Micah watched the seconds as Ella froze, taking a moment to stare at Kerrick with absolute astonishment before life rippled back through her and her neck gave out so that she could curse the High Kings. And then, as though she really didn't have the capacity to deal with it all at that moment, Ella turned on her heels and brushed past him, going back up the stairs without another word. Kerrick's head swivelled, turning with her, his mouth opening and closing without any noise coming out. He watched her until she disappeared and then turned to Micah.

For the first time that day, a smile broke across Micah's face, "I don't think I want to know what that was. But I don't doubt it'll get shouted at me anyway."

"Yeah, you'll hear more than you'll want to," Kerrick breathed, eyes still wide, "Tell me, do I follow her?"

Micah shook his head, "Not right now. She'll find you when she wants to deal with whatever problem she has with you."

Kerrick looked so stunned that Micah was surprised he hadn't dropped the crate he was carrying. Micah shouldered past him and followed Ella up the stairs.

At the top landing Micah found Ella with her arms wrapped tight around the baby that was now out of her robes, with her head against the wall and her whole body looking fatigued.

"Please tell me I didn't just see Kerrick San-Merico in this warehouse," she muttered.

"That would be lying," Micah told her, "Kerrick San-Merico is in this warehouse."

She closed her eyes and cursed quietly, "Bloody Kings're out ta get me."

*****

The streets were dark and quiet as Lexie climbed up onto the roof of the warehouse, her bow slung over her shoulder and her quiver hanging off her back. The moon was at its peak, shining down on her with a silvery light. Lexie knew the moon brought Leyah comfort but it had never had the same affect on her. The moon meant night and the night brought uncertainty to people who weren't in the safety of their own home.

"You're not scared of heights are you?" Imara Dalladune had appeared out of the darkness. She was without her cloak or jacket, dressed in only a loose fitting shirt and pants with her slender bow in her hand and a couple of arrows shoved in her belt.

"Scared?" Lexie scoffed, "I don't think so."

"So what was the cause for such an uneasy look on your face? I hope it wasn't me?"

"The moon," Lexie said, without thinking, "I've always preferred the sun."

She wasn't sure what it was about Imara, but there was something about her that made her speak freely, sometimes without thinking. Lexie didn't think she'd ever even told Leyah that the moon creeped her out a little.

Imara looked intrigued, "There are weirder things to be cautious of."

"So why am I up here?" Lexie asked, changing the subject.

Imara's eyes twinkled in the moonlight, "Apart from being graced by my company? I want to show you something."

Imara turned away and strode over to the middle of the roof, sitting down and drawing an arrow from her belt. Lexie followed her tentatively. She wouldn't deny it to herself that she loved the uncertainty that Imara seemed to breathe like air. It reminded her of her home in Delajenca and the things she used to do when she was younger.

"Sit," Imara said as she placed the arrow in front of her. So Lexie did, she sat down, facing Imara with the long slender arrow sitting idly between them. It had the Dalladune seal printed into the head of it; the interlocking Ds in a perfectly circular sun.

"I presume you were brought up on the local folklore?"

Lexie looked sceptical, "I don't think there is a child of Delajenca who wasn't. Why?"

"And have you ever read the stories of the High Kings?" Imara asked.

Lexie nodded. She had read every story of the High Kings in the Sacred Text. She had loved them when she was young. She could've recited some of them then if Imara had asked. She certainly knew the stories of the High King Magnussan who was the most popular king in Delajenca. But she loved the rest of them just the same; Kirrian, Gwindol, Ottoman, Henris, Tydorian and Bard. Their stories spoke of great trial but also of strength, victory and the old magic of these lands.

"Well," Imara said, "They aren't myth."

Lexie scoffed, "Bits of them are, everyone knows that, Imara. Except maybe the extremist groups. The stories were recorded by people and people lie."

"So you don't believe in the magic?"

The words on Lexie's tongue stopped as Imara raised a hand over the arrow between them. Lexie didn't even get to blink before the arrow had snapped clean in half without Imara even having touched it.

Lexie scrambled to her feet, backing away, "What in the High Kings—?!"

"Sit down or you're going to miss it," Imara said, calmly.

Lexie stayed standing, but she was still able to see the air start to quiver around Imara's hand like heat did off the cobblestones under the hot sun. She couldn't speak as the arrow slowly and gracefully rose into the air, seemingly obeying the commands Imara was giving it, her fingers twitching in the air around it.

"How are you doing that?" Lexie breathed, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"You've read the the story of King Henris and the Season Fire?" Imara asked, a crease forming between her brows as she focused on keeping the two pieces of the arrows hovering.

Henris and the Season Fire was the third story of the second chapter of the Sacred Text. Henris had fought against the Season Fires that had torn through his hometown for many years, controlled by the witches of the mountains and their dark magic.

"So what, you're a witch?" Lexie said, sticking to the only conclusion that her mind could get to, "Like the old times?"

Imara laughed, "No stupid. I'm not a witch. Just a Wielder. I don't create it, I control it. At least that's the explanation that Chasin gives it."

Lexie watched in utter awe as the arrow bent and snapped again and again, a movement that looked more graceful and precise until there were a dozen pieces of the arrow floating around in the air above Imara. It had been made of Quel-yanian oak, the wood that had always appeared to Lexie to have threads of silver woven through it and that was why the forests of the north-east always seemed to glow and shimmer in the moonlight. The pieces of the arrow did that now, catching the moonlight as though they were burning with some kind of silver flame.

Lexie was transfixed on them and she barely felt herself move forward and sit herself back down opposite Imara, eyes glued to the floating pieces of reflected light overhead.

"They're quite pretty, aren't they?" Imara said softly, "It's the Quel-yanian wood. My father always said that there was no use trying to be the best bowman if you weren't using arrows made of Quel-yanian wood. They may as well be feathers for how light and swift they are."

"When did you find out that you could do this?" Lexie asked, breathless.

"I was fourteen and I almost strangled my little half-brother," Imara said suddenly grim, "That's how Chasin, Elex and my other cousin Brian know. They stopped it happening."

"He must have really pissed you off you earn an almost strangulation," Lexie muttered, still staring at the pieces of arrow.

"He told me that I wasn't a Dalladune because only boys are Dalladunes."

"I guess he was wrong then."

The pieces of arrow lowered slowly, bringing Lexie's gaze with them and that was when she finally met Imara's eyes. They were a strange and unique mix of colour, darker than Chasin's but with enough spots of green in that they didn't appear that different when one didn't look close enough. And they were filled with something that Lexie thought looked like deep sadness.

"I'm sorry," she felt a blush coming to her cheeks, "I'm not the best person to talk to about things like that."

"You seem to be doing alright," Imara said, "You haven't told me just to get over it or that I'm being stupid yet."

"Your dad remarried, didn't he?" Lexie was cautious with her question, "After you were born?"

Imara nodded, "Divorced my mother as soon as she gave him a daughter. My step-mother is only a couple of years older than Beck, my oldest cousin. And of course she gave my father two sons right away."

Lexie didn't say anything but in that moment she got an insight into the essence of Imara's character. How strong she must have been to continue through a torment like that. In that moment, she forgot about the floating arrow pieces and the questions they brought with them and how she was actually more than a little scared at the magic in them. All she could see was the lone Dalladune daughter sitting opposite her. And all thoughts in her head seemed to vanish as she leant in.

As her lips brushed Imara's, her hand coming up to touch her cheek, there was an explosion of loud pops above them and Lexie jumped back in time to see the pieces of arrow above her explode into splinters that looked nothing short of tiny silver diamonds bursting like tiny fireworks.

"Kings," Lexie breathed, calming her jumping heartbeat but as she looked back at Imara, the girl was laughing.

"Sorry about that," she said, face split into a stunning smile that seemed to rival the beauty her magic, "Gotta pay attention or I lose control of them."

"Sorry for being such a distraction then," Lexie said, grinning.

"You should be." And Imara grabbed her chin and pulled them together again, creating a new kind of fireworks.

*****

Micah was walking the halls of the warehouse. Ella had taken Beau and gone to sleep at Martha's. He had been tempted to go with her but Martha's seemed almost branded now, a reminder that he was supposed to be grieving and even the slightest bit of joy should be countered by guilt for it.

Micah hated that. It was some stupid analogy that his mind had made up to try and deal with Jules being gone. But today he hadn't had the strength to fight it so he'd let Ella go and taken one of the empty rooms downstairs in the rebel's complex. He then hadn't been able to sleep.

"Bloody typical," Micah muttered as he started to pace up the stairs for the third time without feeling any less awake. His ears pricked at the slight sound of another hand against the wall of the staircase but Micah didn't turn around. He'd known someone had been following him for the last ten minutes now, but he had been waiting until he had a chance to find out who it was without looking back. So when he reached the top of the stairs, hitting the main hallway, he turned the corner and slipped into the doorway of the first room on his right, pressing himself against the wood of the door and blending in with the shadow. He could hear the footsteps quicken on the stairs and then Hogath Whenlocke appeared, eyes wide and searching for Micah. Hogath passed right by him without realising.

Micah cleared his throat and the older man startled, whipping around, a hand on his chest to steady his heart.

"Is there something you want, Mister Whenlocke?" Micah asked, grinding his teeth.

"Majesty! How—ah how unexpected to run into you at this late hour."

"Unexpected, I'm sure," Micah said, stepping out of the doorway, "Is there a reason you were so wanting to bump into me?"

Hogath took a moment to collect himself, straightening the collar of his nightshirt, "Ah yes, well, I s'pose there is."

Micah knew how he must look. He was well aware of the dark circles under his eyes and how his loose necked night shirt was revealing a couple of the dark bruises on his chest that Leyah and Lexie had given him that day in the square. And he stood with his arms crossed, feeling the muscle he had regained, with hair dripping over his forehead to hood his face even further. It was no wonder Hogath Whenlocke looked on the verge of pissing himself.

"Would you care to indulge me?" Micah asked, pointedly.

Hogath seemed to muster up a bit of his courage, or at least shun his fear away, "I wanted to talk to you about Cataleyah. And how she justifies herself."

"People always seem to have an opinion on these things, Whenlocke, so excuse me if I'm not interested in listening to yours. It won't change anything."

"I wouldn't be so confident on that," Hogath muttered and as Micah moved to leave, the older man slid in front of him to block his way, "Do you know what they used to say about you in Quel-yania? They used to say you were like a head and a heart. And if your places were reversed right now and I was speaking with Cataleyah, she would be listening because she is smart and is never clouded by her emotions!"

Micah stopped then, standing completely still, "Your point?"

"Be smart, Micah," Hogath pleaded, "Hear me out and then make your judgement!"

Micah looked the man up and down with mild disgust, "Fine. You have two minutes."

"Okay, well, before you make any judgements about me, know that my loyalty lies first with King Anton, Cataleyah's father, before it does with her. As you know, I was a close friend of the King Anton of Quel-yania. I suspect this is how Troy was picked amongst many others to compete in the Tournament for your own throne. And so I owed my King for that opportunity," Hogath said, having gathered himself into resembling a man of his status, "And one of the last things my King ever asked of me was that I give you a message if I was ever to meet you. He had just lost his daughter, you see, she was betrothed to yourself but before that, she had lost the Tournament and so her father had disowned her. He was furious because she had only gained title after he had cut ties with her and he was convinced she had done that purposefully."

"You're going to have to shorten this." Micah said, sharply, "I have no respect for the former King of Quel-yania."

"But it is of interest to you, certainly," Hogath urged, "It is the real reason Cataleyah agreed to go to Creatia in the first place."

"I know the reason she came," he snapped, "It was a way to escape her father."

"Well no. That's not it."

Micah gave an insincere smile and pushed past the older man, "I don't care what King Anton wanted to tell me, Mister Whenlocke."

But Hogath grabbed Micah's arm with surprising strength, taking Micah by surprise enough so that he could hiss into his ear, "If Cataleyah had been successful and beaten you in the Tournament, do you think she would have escaped? She came to win the throne and give it up to her father. Anton would have won either way. She lost and he could rid himself of the child that killed his favourite wife and she would be unfit to succeed him. She won and he would have all of Creatia in his power. Her mission was to rip Creatia apart so that her father could take it for himself, she would never have been able to defy him and the only reason she couldn't complete that was because you beat her."

Micah bared his teeth and ripped his arm from Hogath's grip, "I don't believe you. Leyah would never have set out to destroy Creatia."

"Believe what you will, Majesty. But she didn't care for Creatia," then Hogath lifted his head and looked down his nose at Micah, "You mark my words. If the Barderns hadn't beaten them to it, Cataleyah Charamain would have handed Creatia over to her father and either way your country would ruin and your parents would die!"

"Quel-yania isn't Terra Barder!" Micah snapped.

"Did you meet King Anton? He instructed his daughter to kill King Adolphus and Queen Violetta if she won the Tournament! Your Princess would've killed your parents, Micah. The only reason she didn't is because Conrad Allist got there first!"

*****

Hogath Whenlocke had slammed the door on his way out. Leyah had stood with her palms on her desk, the anger seeping out of her and turning to the cold emptiness that she had come to expect of a panic attack. The shaking had started but Leyah had forced it down. It had only been an hour or so past dawn and Hogath had come tramping into her office. He had seemed calm until he had told her he was leaving and she had asked him why.

I have no interest in fighting, Hogath had said, And even less in fighting for you.

Leyah had been taken aback by that, feeling like she had been hit. She had asked him where the hell this was coming from and Hogath had smiled at her cruelly before admitting to knowing why she had first come to Creatia.

You didn't come on some escape that your Heir thinks you did. Leyah's muscles were still strained from tensing as he had said that. He had told her how her father had confided in him and that he knew she had every intention to ruin Creatia just as the Barderns had. That she would be no better than them in Micah's eyes. And then he had bowed low.

I felt it my duty to inform the Heir

Leyah had gone cold with that. Her heart had jumped in her chest and hadn't quietened yet. Hogath had told her that he was leaving to return to Quel-yania to his wife. He had told her that Troy wished to stay and help her but that he thought his son's courage would go to waste since the Heir now knew the truth about Leyah and the rebellion would fall apart because of it.

But Leyah hadn't heard all that. She hadn't needed to, nor would she have been able to if she had wanted for the pounding of blood in her ears. She knew exactly what might happen from now on. And with the thought of it, she didn't even have the strength to stop Hogath from slamming the door to her office as he left.

Leyah hadn't known what to do.

And that had been two days ago now. She had spent them avoiding Micah at all costs, not wanting to face the conflict she knew was coming. She had sent him and Felix to take a shift on the rooves overlooking the southern entrance. That had sufficiently kept him out of her path. Her heart raced every time she considered facing it.

"I think you need to," Gupta said, "Confront him, that is."

She had told Gupta what had happened and Lexie knew too. But Lexie had never been as good a council as Gupta was. So it was him that sat on the front steps of the warehouse complex with her now, looking out over Old Montague.

"I know," Leyah said quietly.

"You're right to be hesitant though," Gupta said, "I saw him yesterday and he's incredibly hard to read."

"He wasn't always," Leyah said, vaguely, "He was an open book when I first met him. It's Jules's death that's done this to him."

"Either way, we don't know how he's going to react. And that's what scares you, Hehpe." Gupta said.

Leyah put her head in her hands, "Kings! Nothing is ever easy around here!"

She heard Gupta rise beside her, "I'll send word to the Heir to meet you in your office. Lexie and I will be just outside the door if you need us."

And Gupta left. After a couple of minutes, Leyah raised her head and pushed herself up off the steps, retreating into the warehouse. She pushed open the door to her office and went over and sat on top of her desk, her back to the door so that she could look at her maps on the boards behind the desk.

She didn't have to wait long.

Leyah heard the doors open and Micah's boots on the floor. Her heart was racing but she shunned the panic away.

Not now, she told herself.

"Leyah?" she swivelled around to see him standing in the middle of the room, his mask of grief having parted for a moment so that she could see the confusion on his face, "What's this about? Lexie and Gupta are outside; they wouldn't tell me anything."

"Did you talk to Hogath Whenlocke before he left?" she asked, blurting it out.

Micah went suddenly still as if realising exactly what was now happening, "Yes."

"What did he say?" Leyah's heart was pounding under her thick cloak.

Micah folded his arms across his chest, "I think you know what he said. Otherwise I wouldn't be in here."

Leyah took a deep breath, "And do you believe him and what he said?"

"Yeah, I do."

Leyah just sat there feeling her heart rate spike further and the tips of her fingers start to shake. It was over. He was going to leave.

"It was true, wasn't it? Because he said it like he had something over you. He said it like it changed everything." Micah took a couple of careful steps forward, "I listened to Hogath's speech and when he was finished, I told him where he could stick it."

Leyah's head snapped up, "What?"

"Leyah if you think for one second that I wouldn't see it all as just another way that your father was controlling you and just another thing that you had the strength to defy then you are completely mental. As if I would abandon you over some intention that you didn't even follow through with, all before you even met me? Hogath said that the only reason you didn't do what you were supposed to do was because you lost the Tournament to me. But you let me win, you walked away from all that and let me win. Hogath doesn't know that."

Leyah could have cried. She couldn't take her eyes off him. So he just stood there, much closer than he had been before and his arms had dropped. And he was wearing the same expression he had worn that night on the roof three and a half years ago. The look that told her he was trying to figure out how she was feeling; that he not a single thought was focused on himself and she was filling up his entire vision. Undistracted.

She felt the words on her tongue, what did I do to deserve you?

But she couldn't say them. It would be stepping over that line that she had drawn after he had left her to die. She had been toying with that line for a while now, but now was not the time to pass it.

"Thank you," she uttered, "For trusting me."

"It's not trust, Leyah," Micah said softly, "It's—,"

"I need you to check on Nell," she said abruptly, stopping him from saying what she knew he was going to say, "She's downstairs. Ridley has business on the wall and she still needs someone to help her practice."

Micah lowered his eyes and nodded, "Of course."

And he left, taking another missed opportunity with him.

A/N

Hey Everyone! Hope you've all had a lovely day and enjoyed this chapter! It's my birthday today (20/08) and so I've had a good day too. Remember to vote and comment with any questions about the plot or improvements I could make, or even things that you just like about it.

Thanks for continuing to read my stories!

Much love,

Ruby,

XXX