Page 61 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

“They’re wearing the same clothes as the rider at the Last Guard.”

He began to reply but we were caught up in the surge of movement and he mashed me to his side, his arm like solid metal around me. “We follow commands for now, do whatever they say, and wait to plan our move. They’re outnumbered by civilians, but we don’t know what they’ll do when crossed.”

Fear crouched on my chest, pushing all the air out of it. I nodded and jumped when a woman clutching a young girl rushed past me, sensing what I did—that no clergy in those numbers had our best interests at heart. I’d known clergymen all my life, had known the kindest men and the most cunning, but none had ever assembled in these numbers and ushered a whole city's population towards the square. Even in the council, onlyten clergy gathered at once. Whatever this announcement was, I knew it wouldn’t be good news.

Had Kalder breached the Wall of Hydaran? Was this an elite unit of clergy riders summoned to deal with them? But then why wouldn’t Varidian know about it, as a commander of a legion? None of this made sense. Clergy were lawmakers and holy men. They didn’t yell commands; they didn’t need to.

We followed the flow of the crowd, anticipation and confusion like a black cloud in the air until I could no longer smell saffron and cooked meats and raw fish; all I smelled was sweat and fear and the comforting amber and oud scent of my husband.

“What do we do if they’re Kaldic?” I whispered to him when we turned a corner, close enough to the square now that the volume of voices rose.

His eyes were troubled, a darker shade of blue when he looked at me. “If this turns ugly, I want you to run to Mak. He’ll take you to the Red Star where you can warn the legion.”

“I won’t leave without you.” The thought made me sick so soon after accepting he’d died.

Varidian’s expression sharpened as the square finally spread out before us, and the true horror was revealed—thousands of civilians faced a flight of stone steps to a platform where a musical performance had clearly been taking place. Instruments had been abandoned, a lute discarded on the platform beside drums and a hadjuj. So many black-clad figures stood on the platform, yet more among the crowd, keeping people calm. Or afraid.

“How many?” I whispered to Varidian, cold dousing my blood.

“A hundred,” he replied, low and steely. “At least.”

Still more were flowing into the edges of the square with the civilians they’d rounded up, the market almost silent behindus now that everyone had crammed in around us. A hundred unidentified clergy gathering up this many people could never be a good thing.

“You have been gathered,” a loud voice boomed, clearly amplified by magic, “to issue a warning. Darkness has been born among you, and you deserve to know about it.”

I exchanged a glance with Varidian, his expression turning from cold to glacial. His arm tightened around me, fingers curled firmly around my shoulder. The way we’d smiled and teased after getting our marriage marks seemed a hundred years ago. A pit opened in my stomach.

“Twelve hundred years ago our powerful god gave his prophet a warning,” the spokesman of the dark clergy shouted, an instant hush falling over the crowd at his words. “A storm would rage for three days, broken by a single lightning strike, and the one struck would be the downfall of us all.”

I inhaled a sharp breath. I knew what he was talking about, but there hadn’t been someone struck by lightning for centuries.

“You know the darkness inflicted on us by the last lightning soul.” A rush of gasps and horror went through the crowd at those two words. No one spoke of lightning souls. The fear was ingrained too deep to speak the name. Varidian wasn’t breathing beside me. “Thousands were slaughtered by its magic. Others were corrupted by its power, seduced by sin and magic. It was the darkest time in Ithanysian history, and we are here in your square to warn you so it never happens again.”

I jumped at a sudden thump, scanning the crowd, finally finding the source when the woman beside me pointed. A clergyman dressed head to toe in strange black robes nailed a poster to a wooden post, the strikes of hammer to wood violent in the hush that followed the wordslightning soul.They were the things of dark stories, creatures of nightmares. Struck with pure power, so much that a single person could never hope tocontain it, they went mad, corrupted beyond belief, and refused to listen to reason. Lawless and uncontrollable, the last lightning soul had gathered an army, marched on Morysen and shattered most of the city.

It was why the palace was silver and gleaming—the former one had turned to rubble. People had been burned alive from the inside of their bodies, had died screaming. A fate a thousand times worse than wyvernfyre. A wyvern could kill twenty, thirty people at once. A lightning soul could killhundreds.

Most of the stories had been lost; we never found out why they mass-slaughtered people, why they attacked the capital, why the then-king had been killed. All that remained was the fear, and the warnings. They were stark enough that my chest filled with cold at the thought of one being made by the storm.

“The storm and single strike were foretold,” the bearded man called over the crowd. “Which means a lightning soul is loose and must be caught at all costs. The abomination is an enemy to us all; if it manages to amass even a small following, we are all at risk. Be vigilant, trust no newcomers, and send word if you suspect someone you know is harbouring secrets.”

“Shit,” I whispered. They were whipping up a frenzy of fear. I’d been called an abomination enough times for that word—and the clergy’s decrees—to send ice into my blood. I’d known suspicion was coming at some point, had known I’d be blamed for an unexplainable mystery or sudden death, but I’d expected that to come from my father, or our household, or the people of Strava. From ordinary people. Not from a hundred gentry in strange clothing, acting out of character. Had this been sanctioned by the king? By his council?

Varidianshushedme, squeezing my shoulder. “They just want to issue a warning, then we’ll be dismissed. We’re fine.” His lips pressed to my temple, offering the thinnest scrap of comfort.

I was strange and unusual, I looked Ithanysian but not Ithanysian enough, my mother was from another kingdom, her identity unknown, and I was a newcomer to the Red Star. If anyone would be reported, it would be me. The only relief I had was these clergy hadn’t visited Red Manniston. Yet.

You’re the king’s daughter, you’re Varidian’s wife,I told myself. But where it had felt like armour on my wedding day, now it felt like cobwebs and silk. Easily shredded. There were so many of these clergy, all wearing stern expressions, ready to take on any enemy to protect Ithanys. Would they accept that I wasn’t an enemy? Or would they take one look at my eyes, my hands, and deem me guilty?

“Shh,” Varidian repeated, holding me tighter. “No one’s going to hurt you, Ameirah. I won’t let them.”

He knew they’d come for me, too.

But… they would come for him, wouldn’t they? His magic was dark, dangerous. He might be a prince, might be a legion commander and renowned warrior, but his control magic made him a threat.

“A death order,” the woman beside us murmured to an older, taller version of her. “They’ve issued a death order.”

The lightning soul would be found and killed; that didn’t surprise me. We were safer with it gone, with that volatile power removed from Ithanys. But everyone who’d be lost in the act of finding the lightning soul was what worried me. Accusations would be cast. Innocents would be tried and found guilty, even just to appease the fear that had already begun to spread like disease at the wordslightning soul.

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