Illumisia! she thought reflexively, burning away the strands and deflecting them back to wherever they had been going in the first place. Shaking her head briefly, Ky’ara restored her sight to normal and stood up, fear constricting her chest.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said anxiously, finding the others watching her with concern, “There’s hostile magic all over.”
Taren narrowed his eyes and stared intensely at the wreckage, then nodded curtly and walked back to his horse, mounting swiftly and calling for Joran to do the same. Ky’ara was already on Angallia, eager to get away from the place. Only when they were a safe distance away did she relax and start to breathe more easily. Taren was watching her worriedly, but he didn’t approach.
They continued to ride through the rocky terrain till the sun was past its nexus. A steady wind was blowing and the cloud cover moved ahead of them slowly as the shadows lengthened and the temperature steadily dropped. Ky’ara huddled inside her cloak as the wind whipped uncontrollably around them, blowing rain and dust into their eyes and obstructing their vision.
“We ought to be coming up on a town pretty soon,” Taren called back, raising his voice above the howling of the wind, “We’ll have to take refuge there. This storm could get worse and weather in these parts can get vicious.”
Ky’ara nodded her understanding when Joran looked back for her response. She nudged Angallia closer to the other two until she was trailing just behind Taren. The storm was beginning to frighten her, though she couldn’t understand why. She usually loved intense weather, but there was something unsettling about how quickly this storm had come up. It made her feel strangely cold inside, like she would never again see the light of day. A mantle of weariness fell over her and she nudged her horse as close to Taren’s as she dared, pulling her cloak tightly around herself as she struggled to cast the feeling away.
Chapter 5: Shadowed Mist
Sukylar had been on the road for a few weeks when the storm blew in. It started with only a slight drop in temperature, then the winds came in and dark thunderheads blew in from the south. Usually he would just ride through a storm with little care for the wind and rain that pelted his back, but this one was different; something about it put him on edge and he couldn’t explain why. As the mist descended and the heavy drops of water poured down furiously, Sukylar kept watch from a small improvised cave that he had thrown together from tree branches and a partial rock overhang. When the first sense of danger had come to him, he had stopped to build the shelter, alert to every movement and possible threat.
Now he sat by his pitifully small fire, warming his hands near the flames and gazing out into the darkness that seemed to envelop the forest in misery. A sudden chill came over him and his eyes searched the night almost eagerly, looking for the source. But it was impossible to sense unusual movement when the trees were swaying with the force of the wind and the rain was descending in steady sheets, masking everything. He shifted uncomfortably and checked his swords in their sheaths, reassuring himself that he was well-equipped to handle any situation that might arise.
The storm raged through the night without any sign of letting up by morning. Eventually, Sukylar put his fear to rest and allowed himself to sleep lightly for a few hours. When he awoke, the sun was dimly burning through layers of fog. The storm had vanished as mysteriously as it had come. There was no sign left of the night’s fury except a few snapped tree branches and the steady drip of water from the soaked leaves. He quickly disassembled the makeshift shelter and scattered the branches on the forest floor, removing any sign that he had spent the night there.
He quickly hefted his pack and looked up, ready to leave. His horse was eyeing him balefully, obviously unhappy that the shelter hadn’t been large enough for him as well. Sukylar laughed at the reproachful gaze and pacified his mount with a cube of sugar before mounting. His laughter was swallowed up in the repressive silence of the forest and his smile died quickly. A quick glance around revealed nothing out of the ordinary, but as he started off through the trees he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was watching him.
* * * * *
The wind whistled eerily outside the cave’s mouth and Ky’ara shivered inadvertently. Huddling closer to the fire, she warmed her hands and listened to the steady drip of water that seemed to echo through the cavern perpetually. Taren stood looking moodily out into the rain, his brow furrowed in frustration, while Joran talked continuously. He seemed bent on filling up the night hours with his complaints.
“I still don’t see why those stupid villagers wouldn’t open the gates for us, it’s not like they weren’t already soaking wet anyways,” he grumbled for what had to be at least the tenth time.
Ky’ara sighed and shrugged, tired of trying to ignore him.
“I mean, it’s like it’s the end of the world out there and they were rude enough to refuse us shelter! What kind of person does that?” He shook his head and poked a stick into the fire, irritably pushing the logs around until one fell with a shower of golden sparks and Ky’ara eyed him warningly.
“They should have let us in and offered us shelter; they would have if it had been any other time,” Taren murmured softly without taking his eyes off the dark water that seethed outside.
“What do you mean?” Joran asked, dropping the stick into the fire and looking up at the brooding Keeper.
“The villagers are all frightened, haven’t you noticed it?” Ky’ara replied, glancing quickly at Taren as he nodded, then dropping her gaze and attempting to act like a normal person for once.
“The people are afraid of something. Their town wall looked like it had been built, or at least fortified, recently. This storm has only heightened their fear. They’re suspicious of outsiders, especially outsiders who travel after dark,” Taren explained. “That’s why they wouldn’t let us in, and I don’t really blame them. There’s a dark presence over this whole area; it is probably wise for them to be wary of strangers.”
“Oh.” Joran frowned slightly and furrowed his brow, “Well, they still could have let us in and given us a place to wait out the storm. They could have watched us carefully or…” he trailed off and shrugged. The silence that followed was pervaded only by the sound of water, wind, and the crackling of the fire.
Ky’ara stood. “Well, we might as well get some sleep. It doesn’t look like this storm is going to let up anytime soon,” she suggested, rolling out her blankets and curling up inside them to keep warm. A whispered spell shielded her from the frightening harmony the wind was playing outside and she closed her eyes against the light of the fire, turning away to face the dark interior of the cave.
Her gloomy feeling persisted. She fidgeted, unable to dispel the inexplicable fear that held her in its grip. Reaching up with a hand, she rubbed the crystal between her fingers, thinking about it for the first time in weeks. Somehow she tended to forget that it was what had caused all of this, even though its presence around her neck should have been a constant reminder of that. After all, she was here to find out what to use it for and how to use it. It could probably do something about this storm, she thought wryly, or it could get rid of this irrational fear…Sometime during these thoughts, a blanket of calm spread over her and reached out to envelope the others in soothing warmth, banishing all worries and sending Ky’ara into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
* * * * *
Lauryn emerged from the inn where she had stayed the night and surveyed the village warily. After last night’s intense storm, deep puddles spread across wide sections of the street, reflecting the muted shadows of buildings in the morning sunlight like the ghosts of a time long past. She eyed the water in distaste and picked her way around to the stables to retrieve her horse. As she led her newly saddled horse from the rundown stables, a notice posted on the side of the inn caught her eye, and she read it with barely contained apprehension. The oil-soaked parchment had been rendered near unreadable by the storm, its waterproofed coating worn down by t
he incessant, wind-driven rain, but she could still make out its general message.
“The following individuals are wanted for willful defiance of the law, seditious actions, and various petty crimes against the Kingdom…” Lauryn read silently.
She scanned the list that followed and bit her lip when she found that Joran, Calistra, and Geri’s names were on it, along with a lengthy description of each and, in Joran’s case, even a small sketch. The King is finally beginning to acknowledge the rebellion. This can’t be good. She scanned the list once more, looking for Ky’ara’s name. It was mysteriously absent, an issue that was quickly resolved when Lauryn noticed the second poster plastered face down in the mud where the storm had deposited it.
“Ky’ara Reinea Eleserpri Si Lafeno, Great-Granddaughter of Past-King Pandaras Si Lafeno, Noble of the third rank, former Junior Councilor and only surviving heir to the Si Lafeno family holdings is hereby summoned to…”
The girl angrily tore down the first poster and crumpled it together with the other in her hands, ready to toss them both in the refuse bin. After a moment, she thought better of it and stored them both in her pack instead. I have to show Joran; I have to warn them.
Lauryn mounted her horse and spurred it to the north, riding at a reckless pace through the village. Joran and the others had to be told, but first she had a task to perform. The sooner she could get to the mansion and find the information she needed, the sooner she could rejoin Ky’ara and Joran and relay the news to them. She was so bent on her task that she failed to notice the shadow as it detached from the city wall and followed her out into the mist.
* * * * *
The small company of travelers woke to an ethereal world of glimmering fog and subdued sunlight outside the cave where they had spent the long night. Ky’ara stared out into the hazy expanse that spread out before them and was suddenly struck by a sense of familiarity—it looked just like her dreams. Traveling through the low hanging clouds was difficult and dangerous. More than once they had to rely on Taren’s sharpened senses to warn of a tree or steep incline just ahead. The horses stepped hesitantly over the rocky terrain, carefully guided by riders who were as unsure of their way as their mounts, and the company wound its way slowly towards the coast.
By midday most of the fog had burned off and the land through which they rode was no longer rocky and treacherous, but rather a region of gently rolling hills and grassy slopes that gently inclined for miles on end. And suddenly, as they topped the next rise, there it was—a shimmering expanse of silvery blue light stretching before them as far as the eye could see. Ky’ara caught her breath in wonder at the sight and watched as the sunlight danced playfully over the undulating waves and glistening white foam washed over the shining sands on the beach.
“This is your first time seeing the ocean?” Taren asked carefully.
Ky’ara nodded, relieved by the regularity with which he spoke. “I’d heard it was beautiful, but…” She shrugged, trailing off and gazing out at the captivating play of light on water.
“Well, we can’t sit here and let you stare at it forever,” Joran teased, nudging his mount forward, “We’d better get going and find out what we can in that village.”
Ky’ara looked where he was pointing and was startled to note that a small village was nestled among the hills just off the beach. The little huts were made of weather-worn wood and their roofs were tidily thatched in muted green reeds. Smoke floated from a few chimneys, as the weather was still cold enough to merit building a fire in the daytime, and Ky’ara could see the people in miniature as they bustled about their lives. Just below the quaint village a small fleet of boats were anchored just offshore, makeshift and unexceptional, but neatly kept and seemingly in good repair.
“So this is where you woke up?” Ky’ara asked quietly.
Taren nodded and Ky’ara was happy to note that their exchange had been perfectly ordinary—maybe the weeks of traveling with only the three of them had done some good after all.
They descended the hill and then dismounted before entering the small cluster of buildings, at Taren’s suggestion. The villagers eyed them warily as the small group walked down the main thoroughfare leading their horses. Before long a few people were chattering nervously and pointing to Taren, then whispering to each other. A few ran off down one of the side streets and disappeared around the corner.
A moment later a gravelly voice called out from behind them as a weather-beaten old man hobbled down the street after them. Taren turned around and a repressed smile crossed his features. “Berd! What are you doing out of your hut?”
“Well, I heard say that the young scalawag who appeared and then disappeared again over a year and a half ago had strolled into town just now, and I thought I might come give him an earful for the stress he caused me!” The old man chuckled and waved his cane around eccentrically.
Ky’ara watched wryly as Taren and the old man bantered back and forth as though they had known each other for years, rather than the few short months it had really been. A few of the other villagers came forward to greet Taren casually, and then they all dispersed, going back to their work or homes. The old man finally looked past Taren and took in his companions with a curious glance.
“And who is this pretty girl?” he asked good-naturedly, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Shame on you Taren! You can’t be forgetting something like that!”
Taren glanced at Ky’ara. She held his gaze for just a moment, testing herself, willing herself to keep all trace of emotion from her eyes. She smiled emptily and nodded as if to give him permission. Taren turned away first and Ky’ara dropped her gaze with relief. She hadn’t cracked; she would be okay—her armor was finally good enough.
“This is Ky’ara,” Taren told Berd, “She is…studying history…and currently researching an ancient city that used to be in this general area. I wanted to come back here to investigate the circumstances surrounding my appearance here, so we decided to travel together, and help each other,” he lied blithely, “The boy is her cousin, Joran.”
Ky’ara looked at Berd and smiled warmly. For some reason, she couldn’t help liking the man even though he seemed slightly skeptical of Taren’s story. The old man smiled back at her and then glanced at Taren shrewdly.
“Well, y’all better come to my place and get settled then. Research of any kind can take a bit of time, so I expect you’ll be here for at least a few weeks,” he said, turning to walk back down the road. They followed him to a small shack near the outskirts of the village, closest to the sea, and he served them a small lunch of biscuits and smoked fish.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair after they had all finished eating. “You’ll be lookin’ for people that know the terrain and local history well, I suppose.”
Ky’ara nodded, hoping she could keep up the fiction Taren had established for them.
“Hmm…” Berd looked thoughtful, “well, I suppose you could go talk to old Evlyn, she knows quite a bit of the local lore, bein’ as her late husband used to be a wanderin’ minstrel. She knows quite a bit of history and ancient songs from all over, not just right around here, but out in the regions around yonder lake and towards the capital too.” He nodded towards a window that opened towards the east, where the hilly ground gradually smoothed out to flat marshland and acres of bog grass. “Or you could consult the village records, though those won’t tell you much. Most of ‘em have been eaten up by mold after spendin’ years in those damp vaults under the mayor’s house.”
“Where do you think we should start?” Ky’ara asked Taren indifferently, trying to quell the sudden feeling of excitement. They were actually searching. Maybe they were finally getting somewhere.
“I think we should start here with Berd,” Taren said, giving the old man an exasperated look, “He knows more than anyone about events that have happened around here, and that way we don’t have to go back into town today.”
Ky’ara turned to Berd, who looked sli
ghtly surprised by Taren’s reply. “I don’t suppose you’re gonna tell me the real reason you’re lookin’ for the ruins of Eléirathös, are you?” He said casually, “Or why you’re together…No, no, don’t bother to make excuses, I can see you’re goin’ to keep the truth to yourselves. I just didn’t want you to think I’m dull, that’s all.” He held up a hand to cut off their surprised exclamations and protestations. “Now, what is it that you want me to tell you first?”
Taren and Ky’ara looked at each other in surprise. Joran watched them carefully, hoping the increased interaction between the two was a sign that they were close to making up. His hopes were dashed when he saw how empty Ky’ara’s gaze was. The girl had somehow managed to lock away the faintest memories of her feelings and replaced them with total apathy towards Taren—while interacting almost normally with everyone else. Joran shook his head in frustration and turned to talk to Berd, but the old man was observing Ky’ara and Taren suspiciously. He turned and caught Joran’s eyes on him. The old man raised an eyebrow towards the couple. Joran replied with a small shake of his head.
Taren turned back to Berd as Ky’ara looked over at Joran to ask his opinion. Joran gave her a disapproving stare and then turned to look at Berd. Ky’ara’s brow wrinkled in confusion, but she shrugged it off and concentrated on the old man’s answers.
“You never asked me anything about my past when I stayed with you before,” Taren said quietly, “and I know it’s not really fair to ask for your continued disinterest, but…”
“Don’t worry about it. I told you already that I didn’t want to know. Just get to the point and ask about what you need to know. I’m assuming, since I don’t know much about historical sites,” he nodded almost teasingly towards Ky’ara and she gave him an exasperated look, “that you want to know about yourself.”
Taren nodded slowly. “I want to know how and where exactly you found me, if you saw anything else out of the ordinary, how long it was before I woke up—anything you can tell me.”
The Keeper's Heritage Page 7
