YEVA

YEVA JERKED UP, gasping and clawing at her neck, a cold sweat slicking her skin. Her chest ached with each breath as her wide eyes scanned the surrounding room. Several moments passed before reality set in and her breathing returned to normal. Home. She was home.

She swallowed and it felt like broken glass against her raw throat. A nightmare… but no, it was more than that. Something had happened. A burst of energy had woken her.

Yeva sent her power out in a slow wave, stretching across the land, feeling for her Watchers. Her power recoiled as it touched something cold and dark. A Watcher was missing.

Dead, or perhaps destroyed? Neither feeling fit.

An aura so strange and unnerving lingered, as if one had in fact been destroyed, yet the flicker of a ghost remained. Though, that was impossible. Yeva frowned and threw her blankets off.

She couldn’t understand what had happened. A Watcher could not be destroyed and leave behind some remnant of existence.

The moon cast a cold, bluish light across the room. Yeva stood, making her way to the water basin on the short dresser across from her bed. A large circle of polished brass had been fastened to the wall just behind it.

She splashed chilled water over her face then leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands as she examined her reflection.

Several drops dripped from her chin, back into the bowl, rippling. Her grip tightened on the edge of the wood, nails biting into the soft grain. Yeva let out a frustrated breath, wishing her racing heart would calm. She plucked up a cloth and dried her face.

The feeling of loss, however incomplete, haunted her. She reached for her deep green shift hanging on a hook and slipped it over her head.

No sooner had she smoothed the cloth of her skirt down over her hips than the door burst open. Yeva started, a sneer forming on her full lips as she stormed into the other room, ready to deal with whomever dared enter uninvited.

“What is the meaning of this?” she snapped at the man panting in her wide open doorway.

Sweat glistened across Finn’s blood drained face. The pale lavender light of predawn edged above the distant tree line behind him.

Kain followed seconds later, wearing only slacks, his chest bare and his feet equally so. His presence soothed her irritation, his power a salve on her already frayed nerves.

Yeva crossed to the table and picked up the lantern, then snapped her fingers, lighting the wick. The warm glow washed over the small dwelling. She turned toward the men, crossing her arms over her chest, and looked to Finn expectantly.

“She’s gone… Nivian is gone. She went for a walk in the middle of the night, but she never came back,” his voice wavered, cracking on her name.

Yeva snorted. Of course, it would be Nivian tangled up in… only Gaia knew what. And what the girl was involved in was exactly what she needed to figure out.

The lingering, incomplete feeling made it impossible for Yeva to tell who she’d lost. It might very well be Nivian, though she could still sense her presence. It made no sense.

Finn was one of her best trackers and even he’d failed to find Nivian. Either his emotions were getting in the way, or something more sinister was at play. She ground her teeth until her jaw ached. It seemed it would be up to her to track down the girl.

She flicked her eyes toward Kain, and the look of concern and worry on his face only served to grate on her, but Yeva pushed away the sting and dragged her attention back to Finn.

“I would not worry about her. She is most likely at the river by that tree she loves so much.”

“No.” Finn shook his head. “That was the first place I checked. I went to the tree, she wasn’t there. Only…” he trailed off.

Kain closed the door quietly as the other man spoke, listening as though he didn’t want to miss a single detail. When Finn didn’t continue, he leaned in and demanded, “Only what?”

Finn’s hands shook, whether with rage or fear, Yeva couldn’t tell.

“There was a frozen patch of grass near the bridge that had been trampled and matted.” He jerked a hand though his hair as he turned to Kain. “She wasn’t anywhere. There was no trace of her leaving.”

Yeva sent a tendril of power out to the waterside to see if something of her life force lingered. Darkness and cold were the only things she found. In all her existence, Yeva knew that no human had the strength or power to harm a hair on even the weakest of the Watchers.

Yeva clenched her fists as the revolution hit her.

Nivian was alive and she was with the Dark Guardians.

Silas. She cursed his name. He was the only one who could take a Watcher such as her, the only one who would dare.

So Nivian had sided with Silas and had betrayed her—had betrayed them all. All her sneaking about, taking the sacred chalice…

Nivian, that wretched girl, had seemed so sincere that Yeva had grown to believe the lie that she was innocent. In reality, it had all been some devious plot concocted by Silas. How long had the two of them been scheming behind her back? And for what? What had that bastard promised her? Yeva’s blood boiled.

“Never mind that traitor,” she seethed through teeth clenched so tight her jaw ached. “Silas has taken her.”

The two men stopped talking and faced her, their expressions matching in their slackened muscles, wide eyes, and gaping mouths.

It was Kain who collected himself first. He drew back as if she’d struck him. He tried to speak and failed several times before he could form words. “What are you talking about?”

Yeva tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist and heaved a long sigh. “Silas has turned Nivian away from us, away from her duties, and convinced her to join them.”

“She would never do that!” Kain stepped close.

Yeva felt pity for her Second. His affection for Nivian blinded him to what she was capable of, and what she had done. Though, who could blame him? Even she, with her occasional suspicions, had given her more leeway than she’d deserved, more chances, and had put up with her strangeness.

“Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment,” Yeva said coolly. Her quiet warning had him retreating a step. “She stole the sacred chalice and handed it over to Silas.”

The rise and fall of Finn’s chest quickened with his labored breath, true worry on his face. He was not smart enough to fake that. No. His surprise and emotions were real. And despite knowing what Nivian did, he remained worried for her. There was no flicker of the anger she, herself, felt for Nivian.

“You’re wrong,” Kain said quietly.

Her eyes narrowed as she advanced on Kain, her head cocking predatorily to the side. The knot of his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “No, my love, you are wrong. I caught her right after she handed it over to him. Of course she denied it—lied to my face—and I was fool enough to believe her.” Her voice grew dark. Dangerous.

The thrum of her pulse kicked up at remembering the feel of Silas’s cold power, then finding Nivian only seconds later near the spot where he had been. She should have destroyed the little wretch when she had the chance. But those large, brown doe-eyes had blinked up at her, making her turn away rather than deliver the punishment deserved. She was too good at pretending to be innocent.

Yeva watched her words sink into Kain’s mind, saw the thoughts flit across his face, the range of emotion he went through as he struggled to accept the truth. Finn, on the other hand, had horror and shock and sorrow distorting his face as a single tear slid from his eye unnoticed.

Yeva held in her frustration. They were two of her best, but they were far more emotional than Jack and Taliha. Though their powers were not as strong as Kain’s, they were more adept when it came to controlling their feelings, keeping them in check, and letting logic rule. Obedient, born with the desire to do what was needed as their strongest trait. It made up for what they lacked in power.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Kain said after a long while. “Nivian has always been devoted to our duty.”

Finn spun on his heel and, not speaking a word, stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. The echo reverberated through the small dwelling.

When silence fell upon them again, Yeva closed her eyes and centered herself before turning to Kain. Such wide-eyed trust, so desperate to see only the good, even when Nivian’s actions were so painfully against everything they stood for.

“I know it is difficult to understand. It took me days to accept what had happened was possible, and more time still to come to grips with it.” She closed the distance and placed a hand on his muscular shoulder. His skin was cold beneath her palm. “It is something we must all accept, sooner rather than later.”

“You knew about it that long?” His expression darkened. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I could have…” he trailed off and held his hands out, palms up. When he focused on her again, he let his arms fall limply to his sides. “It has to be a misunderstanding. I know her. If she’s guilty of anything, then it is being too trusting. The only way she could do what you say she did is if Silas tricked her.”

Ever the protector, Yeva thought. “I know you care for her,” she started. And, in the dark, she could see his cheeks redden as he grasped her full meaning. “Do not worry, I will find out the truth of what happened before I make my judgment.”

Kain studied her, then nodded once.

“Come, you must put it out of your mind.” Yeva ushered him toward the door, and he followed without resistance. “Go and rest. I will need you on patrol tonight.”

He left without another word, and, when Yeva was alone again, she leaned back against the door and massaged her temples.

She would find the truth of the matter. Though, it was doubtful the truth would be what Kain had hoped for. There was too much pointing toward the betrayal. None of what transpired could have happened by chance.

Despite Nivian’s strangeness, most Watchers had a soft spot for her, not just Finn and Kain.

Kain’s love for the girl filled Yeva with regret. When she’d first assigned him to watch over Nivian, she had no idea how fond he would become of her. The strongest of her Watchers had become soft in Nivian’s hands.

But it was too late to go back and change the past. Not unless she used the Sands of Time. And as tempting as it was, that was forbidden by the Moirai.

Yeva pushed away from the door and crossed the room to extinguish the light. Rounding the table, she reached for the window and flung the shutters wide. Pale purples and reds mixed with the deep sapphire of the predawn sky. The frigid air brushed along her arms, promising a colder than usual winter.

What had happened that morning was not destruction. When a Watcher was destroyed, that was it. All trace of them disappeared forever.

One thing was for sure, something was amiss, and, for all she knew, Silas had the traitor hidden away somewhere, with her powers shielded, preventing Yeva from locating her own Watcher.

An unsettling thought struck her. If Nivian was in on Silas’s scheming, then there was a chance she was not the only one he’d approached and attempted to turn.

News of Nivian’s family unit returning reached her late in the afternoon. Yeva tried to pull herself away from her duties long enough to talk to them. But there was always one thing or another that needed her attention.

The long, arduous meeting held monthly had kept her inside most of the afternoon. It had slipped her mind, the distractions from the last several days taking over her thoughts. It was unlike her to be so forgetful.

After such a tedious day, Yeva needed the cool earth beneath her feet, needed to feel the life energy of the world thrum under her as she walked, even if her day was not yet over.

Hestia, Cora, and Eloise had proven themselves to be nothing short of loyal. Then again, until a few nights prior, so had Nivian. And, in the end, she had proven to be a traitor. Now it was time to see how far Silas’s scheming had gone.

They would tell her what they knew, or, so help her, there would be a price to pay.

She crossed through the edge of her meadow toward the far side of the village. She needed her chalice back. Perhaps she could practice on more Reapers, turn them to her side as Silas had turned her Watchers to his. One might be capable of fetching the sacred cup and returning it to her.

She would destroy as many as she needed to turn just one who might serve her. She’d been biding her time thus far, but no more. She couldn’t afford further inaction.

As she neared the dwelling where Nivian lived, the two younger girls came into view. They sat among the wild flowers just beyond the home. Eloise’s long, dark, curly hair flowed wildly down her back, swaying in the light breeze. Her fingers wove the stems of flowers together, making a wreath identical to the one that sat upon her head. With it finished, she plopped it atop the other girl’s pale head. Cora didn’t look up from her book as she adjusted the crown of flowers.

They looked happy. Not a shred of worry weighed on their shoulders.

It was Eloise who lifted her head toward Yeva first. She stood immediately to bow, Cora following a few beats later, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. The book in her hand tumbled to the ground, forgotten. Neither straightened until Yeva stopped before them.

Loyal. Respectful. It bode well that they had not forgotten their place as their sister had.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Cora said.

“I must speak with your family on an important matter,” Yeva said.

The two young Watchers glanced quickly at each other, but it was Cora who ushered Yeva toward the house, with Eloise trailing silently behind.

Hestia’s back was turned as she stood along the far wall, leaning over the counter. Small, white feathers floated on the soft waves of air created by her movements as she plucked a chicken.

“Mother,” Cora said, her voice wavering slightly, enough that Hestia stopped her hurried moments and turned. “We have company.”

“Your Grace.” Hestia dropped into a bow, wiping her hands upon her apron. When she straightened, her long delicate fingers pushed back stray hairs fallen loose from her bun. “We are honored to welcome you. Please, come in and sit.”

Cora hurried inside and pulled out a chair at their table. Yeva glided across the room and sat, motioning for the others to join her.

Hestia took up the seat on the opposite end, a daughter to each side. “How may we be of service to you?”

The three of them leaned forward, hanging on to Yeva’s every movement. “I have come to speak with you about Nivian,” Yeva said solemnly. None of them moved, not so much as the blink of an eye to indicate they knew what she was about to say. Yeva continued, “I heard she left early this morning.”

“Nivian hasn’t been here all day. She was gone when we got home,” Hestia said. “It’s not uncommon for her.”

Yeva folded her hands atop the table. “She did not leave a note or some clue as to where she had gone?”

Hestia shook her head. “None. I am sorry. We’d assumed you had sent her on a mission, or she was off by the river.” She looked to Cora and Eloise, who still only looked curious. Though, upon closer inspection, they each held a slight tension in their shoulders. “Has something happened?”

Yeva reached forward and placed her hand over Hestia’s. “I am unsure. Finn came to me early this morning and said he was worried. I only wanted to check in with you to see if she had returned without our notice.”

The three women shook their heads in unison.

Curious.

Yeva hummed a little. “That is strange. It is unlike her to disappear like that.”

“I know she likes her alone time, but we have never had any trouble finding her when need be. Are you sure she’s not simply down by the Mezzanine?”

The smile plastered to Yeva’s face did not waver for even a second. The question bordered on insulting. To think she wouldn’t check the most obvious place first was absurd. But Yeva held her tongue. “No. We have had scouts looking for her since sunrise.” She listed her head casually. “Have you noticed anything about Nivian’s behavior lately?”

It was the question she had wanted to ask from the start, but they would have been defensive had she approached them in such a way. She had to ease them into it.

“What do you mean?” Cora asked, chewing on the corner of her lip.

“Have you noticed anything strange, different in her usual comings and goings? Her behavior? Has she been moody, or jumpy?”

Hestia frowned, wrinkles forming across her forehead. “No, my lady. Nothing like that at all.”

Yeva could all but see their defensive walls going up in unison. She cursed inwardly. There was a strange quietness to them as they sat. They knew something, though she couldn’t tell what.

“Is there something we can do for you in her stead? Something you need?” Hestia asked.

Why? Why did they close themselves off to her and claim ignorance? They should have been eager to tell her of anything. Any strange look or air about Nivian. Instead, they became emotionless and cold toward her.

Their silence could only mean one thing—that Silas had got to them as well. Though, the extent remained yet to be seen. He could have them working for him, and she wouldn’t put it past him to threaten their lives if they did not keep silent.

Yeva allowed herself a slow breath, insuring she kept her rising anger well hidden, showing only the calm and collected exterior her children were used to. Her smile increased. “No, I am just worried for her. She is quite special, as you know.”

The three women nodded. Again, it was too practiced for her tastes.

“In that case, I will take my leave and let you get on with your evening.” With that, Yeva stood, smoothing down her long forest green skirt.

Hestia rose with her, followed quickly by Cora, then Eloise. Yeva turned and walked to the door, each step she took seemed to thunder through her whole body. Her blood pounded in her veins. They’d betrayed her with their silence for whatever reason. Coercion or of free will, she could not allow such disobedience.

Yeva paused outside the door, her hand lingering on the frame. She looked over her shoulder at the three women only a few steps behind her. She had never expected the Watchers, her Watchers that she had created, to betray her with smiles on their faces. They had taken Nivian’s side, and by extension—Silas’s.

She scoffed inwardly. They were all going mad, betraying her trust and lying to her face. And for what? To protect one who was broken… one who was too different, who never should have been created. They had turned their backs on life and embraced death.

“Come.” Yeva motioned them to follow. “The sunset is beautiful today.”

Without hesitation, they followed. As they passed her, they gazed toward the horizon. Yeva brushed her fingers across their shoulders in a single sweep of her hand.

Hestia spun on her heal, looking to Yeva with a horrified expression. Cora and Eloise faced her a second later. Hestia opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came.

All three stilled at once, their skin turning ashen, the color leaching from them. The gray spread across every inch of flesh, of hair, over their clothes until they were life-like statues of ash.

Cracks formed and ran along their hair, crumbling and drifting away on the gentle breeze. Faster and faster the wind carried more of them away, not stopping until all trace of them had vanished.

A just punishment for their betrayal.

She had revoked their gift of life. It was something else, akin to death, but not the same. Their consciousnesses intact, their essences were to float forever on the wind. Each particle of dust not technically dead, and instead condemned to a half-life. Of being nothing more than an infinite stream of awareness, yet, unable to think, unable to feel, as most living creatures.

Their very souls ripped apart and divided among each speck, until the end of time… or until she saw fit to spend her energy calling every part of them back to restore the gift of life.

Perhaps one day she would, but, for now, their punishment would stand.