The art of stealth is very logical. It is the same as thinking before speaking, but instead of formulating structured sentences to fit the situation at hand, Cian plots a path that only he can see. He knows Keegan is growing frustrated with him because they have only traveled a few feet into the city.

  At the beginning, Cian could hardly breathe, his breath catching in his lungs, threatening to suffocate him. Although he had been born during the Ethospar War, he was no child of it. The war had not shaped him by ingraining vivid images of death and destruction in his mind. He could not even remember the death of his parents despite being present during their slaying and being old enough to—a possible coping mechanism initiated by his mind that he never dared to explore. Either way, Cian and Keegan had been sheltered and would have remained so if not for Sadiq.

  Cian felt as though Sadiq had been the catalyst for all the darkness entering his life. After his death came Domino’s, then the Adeola Clan’s, and now Fallen Petal has stepped in line behind them like a dutiful soldier. He almost did not know how to handle the sight of charred buildings along with lifeless bodies. The only reason he snapped out of his haze was that he glanced over at Keegan and realized the boy was reacting a lot worse than he. His brother had gone pale, and it had looked as though he was about to become sick. Cian had wordlessly grabbed his brother’s hand, guiding him forward, and just in time, too, because a group of enemy soldiers had come into view.

  Now they were inside a dilapidated house, its body groaning, as its fractured bones struggled to remain standing. It certainly was not the safest of hiding places for them, but they could not afford to be overly picky. The streets were filled with soldiers on patrol. The patrols were divided into groups of five, and these five walked around the city in sections. The sections would overlap, so while one group was at one end, they had another to cover the opposite side. It had taken an hour or so for Cian to understand the patrol’s pattern, and once he had, he determined they would need to stay close to the buildings to avoid detection.

  They jumped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping low, and Cian was grateful that Fallen Petal had been a city with many trees and various plants intermingled with the architecture. Most of the greenery was burned, but there was still enough to provide ample cover whenever they had to cross to another building not as close as Cian would have liked. It was hard enough that they were moving in broad daylight; the hairs on the back of his neck never ceased standing as he expected someone to spot them. The more Cian mulled it over, the more he realized how foolish they were being.

  “Why did you stop?” Keegan whispered, after he noticed Cian was not following him through the second-story window of the house they clambered into from the opposite end. “We should wait until nightfall to continue any further.”

  Keegan scrunched his face in distaste. “We haven’t even reached our city’s center, yet you would have us wait? I say we can do that after we’ve traveled a bit further.”

  “We tempt God the more we continue,” Cian argued. “It’s a miracle no one has caught us thus far. The night will blanket us more efficiently than the shadows we’re using now. It will not hurt to be cautious from here on in.”

  “It doesn’t hurt us, but it hurts them,” Keegan rebuttaled. Cian swallowed his words of irritation because he did not appreciate how his brother spoke to him. It made it seem that Cian was not at all concerned about what horrible things could be happening to his mother and young siblings. He did, but he was also rational enough to realize they could end up in captivity with them if they were not careful. Already, he understands it may have been too brash of them to have infiltrated the city alone. Cian wonders if his uncle has figured out they are gone yet, or if the man thinks Keegan is avoiding him because he is still angry. Either does not matter; what does is that once Bomin discovers they are missing, he will send Kumo to fetch them, and he doubts the man will allow them to continue with their plan. His priority is their safety, and even if it means defying a direct order from his scions, Kumo will disobey to protect them. Cian would not put it past the man to render them unconscious should they adamantly protest. The man is strong enough to carry them both if needed.

  They are deep behind enemy lines, and Fallen Petal is a sizable city. Kumo would not know from which direction they entered the town, and it would take some time for him to sniff them out. There is no reason for them not to rest and allow the sun’s light to fade, except that Keegan is impatient. “If you won’t continue, then I will on my own.”

  The boy went over to the window and prepared to leap from its ledge, but was halted by Cian grabbing his shoulders. “Think for a moment, Keegan. It’s terrible enough that only you and I are here, but for you to traipse off alone is even worse.”

  “Then you’re joining me?” Keegan looked at him expectantly, but Cian could not give him the answer he wanted. “I’m not waiting.” The words were said with such finality, yet the hands grasping his shoulds refused the notion. “Let go of me!”

  In hindsight, it should have occurred to Cian how utterly foolish it was to wrestle with his brother on the a window ledge. It is worse that the ledge is brittle from fire and creaks under the stress, but the two boys paid the sound no mind. The creaking grew in intensity as Keegan flailed to get out of Cian’s grasp. Then came the most severe of bumps—Cian’s back hitting the side ledge. The wall began to shake, which in turn made the floor underneath them quiver. “Jump!” Cian ordered. Together they leaped from the window they moments before had been tussling over, and no sooner had they landed with a roll that the building behind them began to collapse into itself. To get clear of the wreckage, they stumbled forward onto the street, dust engulfing them and making them cough, but otherwise they were unscathed.

  Through his coughing fit, Cian had the sense to realize the fallen building had to have drawn attention with its loud crash. “Get off the street!” he managed to yell as he blinked his eyes against the dust obscuring his vision. “Cian!”

  Cian turned his head, following the sounds of scuffling and Keegan crying out in defiance. He understood what was occurring because from his side came the image of a man with his sword raised—an enemy soldier coming to apprehend the ones brazen enough to infiltrate their newly acquired land. The soldier was not alone, and it was by instinct that Cian dropped down out of the way of the attack from the soldier who had come up behind him. From his own position, he brought up his heel, cracking it hard against the soldier’s knee. The man yelped and pitched sideways, but another burst out of the swirling dust before he could rise. A boot slammed into his ribs, driving the breath he did not have from his lungs, nearly choking him as coughing once again threatened to take hold of him. He tried to twist away, but fingers snatched his robes. He tore free only to stumble straight into another soldier he had not seen. Rough hands seized his arms. Cian lashed out blindly, reaching for the knife at his belt. The soldier saw what he was attempting to do and wrestled his hand away, but Cian did not let that deter him. He called the knife to his hands, his inner fire roaring bright once his fingers wrapped around the handle. The weapon shivered and guided Cian to plunge the cool metal into the soldier’s shoulder, the pain enough for the soldier to let him go. Cian flung himself away, getting to his feet as he twisted his body in preparation for any further assaults. He was still not fast enough to evade the fist that hammered the back of his neck.

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  His vision began to dim, his knees buckling, and from just beyond the soldier he stabbed, he could see Keegan prone on the ground as other soldiers tied his arms and legs together. They made a mistake. Guilt pooled in the pit of his stomach as his conscience left him.

  —————

  The people of Davar found their autumn and winter months very cold, and some days were filled with snow-covered mornings. Cian never minded the cold at The Cornucopia. He enjoyed the opportunity to build a campfire and have its heat be comforting, rather than stifling, as during the warmer seasons. Such experiences were not really had in Fallen Petal. The children of Heartsease had settled where the climate kept steady in its heat, and the air would be chilled for a few days before suddenly giving way to heat again. That is not to say the mornings are temperate enough to forgo bundling up.

  When he and Keegan had left their camp, the morning was cool enough to warrant extra layers of robing, but when Cian opened his eyes, a bead of sweat fell from his eyelash and stung him with its salt. The sun was glaring overhead, and he felt somewhat hot, the cool surface of the stone he lay on providing some relief. He squeezed his eyes shut against the burning from the sweat of his brow and got an arm underneath him to push himself up. If the sun was high above, then it must be midday or a little past, and the stones beneath him were those belonging to steps, so he had been taken away from the streets. He used the sleeve of his robe to wipe his eyes, blinking a few times to clear them.

  Cian raised his head.

  The mansion, his home, was before him, but he was unable to bask in its comfort because his Auntie knelt at the top of the steps, her back rigid as she stared down at him in concern. She held a squirming Dove in her arms, red-faced and sniffling. Next to her, Bedisa and Destin also knelt, their faces mirroring the same concern as their mother’s. They looked thin, worn, and so very tired, but Cian was grateful they were all still breathing.

  His attention was temporarily diverted to the sound of struggling grunts beside him. Unlike himself, Keegan had been bound by a rope around his wrists and ankles, but he had managed to free his legs while he bit at the ones that were ensnaring his hands. The enemy must have allowed him to be free since he was unable to put up more of a fight after losing consciousness, although he is not sure if his freedom is of any help. Not when he sees coming up behind his family, Madam Calypso with her large black serpent coiled around her. This time, Cian held no doubts that the serpent was peering at him, even with its eye sockets being empty.

  “Son Cian, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Madam Calypso said. She walked around Mila, making her way down the steps in a languid manner. “You’re family, and I have been having a lot of fun, but I think it would be better if your father were here to join us. I had the joy of entertaining you before, and it would be a great honor to do so for your family as a whole. Tell me, child, where is your father? Your brother has been of little help, so I do hope you can be more civil than he.” The part was followed by the serpent’s tail whipping across Keegan’s face; punishment for him trying to escape his bonds. Keegan curled into himself as he held his face.

  “I don’t know where he is,” Cian responded, his eyes leaving his brother to look up at Madam Calypso with what he hoped conveyed sincerity. She stared back, unimpressed. “Child, I’ve mothered an armful of sons and a daughter. You cannot lie that easily.”

  “I spoke the truth! My brother and I came here alone, so there’s no telling where my uncle could be.”

  “If you cannot provide me with his current whereabouts, then you can at least tell me where you last saw him.”

  Cian went still for a moment. He lowered his head, casting his eyes down in a subdued manner. “I can show you where we last made camp, but it will have to come at a price.”

  “Cian!” Keegan hissed, but he paid his brother no mind. He needed to concentrate on every word he spoke, on every expression Madam Calypso gave, because if he wanted to make the best of their situation, he needed to be careful.

  “And what is it that you desire?”

  Cian raised his head; his eyes remained downcast, but he allowed a crumb of resolve into his voice. “Let my Aunt and my siblings go. You can keep me as your card against my uncle. As the heir to the patriarchy, I should suffice.”

  “You can’t trust her to honor a deal made!” Keegan protested, his voice filled with astonishment at what his brother was proposing. He did not understand that Cian already distrusted the woman, nor did he know that she felt the same toward him. What both of them were weighing was risk and reward. Would taking a chance benefit them? Cian knew it would for him because otherwise, how else could they hope to defeat the woman exuding such raw power?

  He had not noticed it before, perhaps because she was keeping tame her strength, but as they continued to talk, it began to seep out of her little by little. It felt like someone was stacking bricks on his chest, placing them one at a time. A single brick is bearable and so is one more, but past that, his breathing grew labored and his body began to quake. His instincts were coming to life, his need to flee or fight making him jittery, and it did not help that the serpent never once looked away from him, its tongue flicking out every so often, tasting him in the air.

  There was a sickening anticipation. Cian remembered the oppression he had felt in the cavern, how utterly terrified he had been. Madam Calypso had the capability of bringing forth that same dread, but what was more horrifying was that she could wield it at her discretion. Sadiq had been in want of that power, and there is the difference between him and Madam Calypso. She will not be as easily…killed as Sadiq had been, so Cian needed to give them time. Let himself be the pawn in captivity while his family escaped. Should he die, then his uncle will still have Keegan, and perhaps Keegan will be able to prove that he would not make for a troubled leader.

  What it boiled down to was whether Madam Calypso would give in. She still had yet to respond, and Cian took in slow breaths to calm his shivering nerves.

  THWIP! CLACK-TCK!

  Cian stared dumbfounded at the arrow lodged in the stone behind Madam Calypso, and just to the side of where her head would have been had she not moved it out of the way. None were given a moment to comprehend what happened before a figure jumped from the roof, sword at the ready to complete what the arrow had not. Madam Calypso was not to be underestimated as she jumped back, and her serpent came to take the blow meant for her. Its body was neatly sliced in half, the two pieces rolling down the steps.

  “Free your brother!” Kumo shouted in command. He did not once cast a look down at his scions to see if they were safe because he was much more attentive to the woman at the bottom of the stairs, who seemed unperturbed that her serpent had been sliced through. Kumo left them to challenge the woman, and Cian did not delay in going over to Keegan to help loosen the ropes binding his wrists. “It’s father!” Keegan exclaimed, and Cian took a moment to peer behind him and felt his breath catch at the sight of his father charging forward with the last of Heartsease’s remaining soldiers.

  The archers in the party let loose their arrows and took down the enemy soldiers surrounding the mansion’s entrance. Amidst them was Bomin, both his shuang dao flashing as he drove straight into the mass, choking the path toward the mansion. The first blade carved a clean arc across the face of one enemy, the second punching low in the next man’s ribs before he had even finished the turn. His movement was sharp, relentless, one blade catching, the other cutting, forcing his way through bodies. Cian had heard tales of his uncle battling alongside his father, the two brothers working in tandem to defend Fallen Petal from the forces of Neos, yet he had not realized how capable his uncle truly was. The man he saw was not only a father coming to the aid of his family, but also a patriarch skilled in combat, meant to be the leader in war, a guiding light for those following him.

  Yet that light paled in the shadow of the darkness that began to brew the moment Kumo was struck down.