The Keeper's Heritage

by Trenna McMullin

  She held her map out next to the one on the boulder. Taren compared the two, and then traced the outline of Grey Lake thoughtfully. “This lake didn’t exist in my day…it doesn’t show a lake on the old map either, and we know there is one today…but even so…I do believe you’re right,” he said in surprise. “Something or somebody has been trying very hard to hide something in this region here…” he indicated the area northeast of the lake, “…and I’d be willing to bet that something has a lot to do with Eléirathös. We can check your theory pretty easily over the new few days. I’ll take some measurements. I can’t believe I didn’t catch it before. The map says the land has changed, but when I don’t think about all the new roads and cities…it really hasn’t changed that much from what I remember of travelling around five-hundred years ago. At least, not as much as this map leads you to believe.”

  Ky’ara sighed and rolled up her map. “Well I guess we know which one we’ll be using from now on,” she said, shaking her head in frustration. “I just don’t understand how I missed so much—all those small changes in policy—the ‘updating’ of traditional songs and stories and the ban on using unapproved versions, requiring horses and riverboats to be registered, not to mention the laws instituted before I was born…testing all children for magic, licensing healers, requiring all upper-class children to attend a council-approved school…and now apparently even the decision to re-survey the kingdom and update the maps…Individually they all seemed like good ideas. But apparently they were all just a way to control information.”

  Lauryn laid a hand on her shoulder. “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it anyways,” she said consolingly.

  Ky’ara raised an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked. “I was supposed to be able to do something about it! The whole point of being in the government was so that I could influence things…now I find out even if I had gotten the opportunity to do anything it probably would’ve been the wrong things anyways.”

  Lauryn shrugged, “Take it how you want to—I’m just sayin’ there’s no use in beating yourself up over something you can’t change. We need to focus on what our next step is going to be.”

  “She’s right,” Taren said, carefully rolling up the map and returning it to its canister. “But I think we need to get to work gathering some supplies while the sun is still up—we’ll have a couple weeks of travel most likely, since we don’t know exactly where we’re going we’ll probably end up wandering for a bit. Let’s get as much as we can tonight so we don’t have to stop till nightfall for the next few days…”

  Ky’ara and Lauryn went to search in the forest along the riverbank for edible plants while Taren grabbed his bow and silently wandered into the deeper forest to look for game.

  It didn’t take long for Lauryn to come across a large patch of darkberry brambles, and the two girls quickly set to filling bags with the small, plump fruit. They worked silently for the most part, pointing out any berries they could see the other had missed and sharing an occasional amused smile when they heard a whoop of victory from where Joran and Sukylar were fishing. When the bushes were picked clean, they moved further into the trees and scavenged for yellow-flower greens and wild tubers.

  Ky’ara bent to pull up a plant and then paused, looking up. There was nothing there. She frowned. She could swear she’d just seen something flit between the trees. Probably just a squirrel. Lauryn called her over and she hurried to go help the younger girl pull a large bunch of roots she’d found. There it was again. Something dark-greenish and vaguely glowing seemed to hover in the branches of the tree next to her. She blinked, and it was gone. Lauryn stopped digging and gave her a strange look. “You alright?”

  Ky’ara nodded slowly and then crouched to continue working. She focused inward for a moment—she felt none of the dread or coldness she associated with the presence of something dark. Whatever it was she saw just felt...old. When she really concentrated she caught flashes of an elusive sense of deep, focused serenity—as though she could feel the deep green of a pine tree or the slow sinking of roots into rich, cool soil. This time she turned her head and looked straight into the serious eyes of a slender, middle-aged woman covered from neck to toe in what looked like a dress made of twigs and leaves—though Ky’ara wasn’t entirely certain it was an article of clothing or rather what she was actually made of. Her long hair was wildly curled and full of berries. She was only a forearm in height.

  Be watchful, a voice whispered in her head—really nothing more than the rustling of leaves, but Ky’ara understood it.

  Be wary, a deeper voice said, and Ky’ara turned to look as a second apparition faded into existence behind her.

  Keep them close, another tree-spirit added her voice to the chorus of rustling foliage.

  “Are we in danger?” Ky’ara asked, standing and reaching for her sword. She instantly tensed in preparation for a fight, but the presence of the wild-women seemed to stifle any transient feelings and her momentary alarm quickly dulled to a general sense of caution.

  “Ky’ara who are you…” Laryn jumped up in confusion and looked around, “Dryads,” she whispered in awe.

  “You see them too?” Ky’ara asked, turning to her in surprise.

  Lauryn shook her head. “Not exactly, but I can feel them…Myrnai always said my spiritual sense was abnormally good…probably comes from running and hiding so much as a child.”

  Ky’ara just nodded and returned her attention to the tree-nymphs.

  We have felt the Great Darkness.

  “Do you mean the necromancer?” Ky’ara asked. The smallest dryad moved her head almost imperceptibly to one side, then the other. Was she saying no? Or was it just a response to the tree behind her being swayed by the breeze?

  The time of resolution draws near, the other two chorused.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Ky’ara tried again, “please explain—”

  Follow the water, they said, once more seeming to ignore her. Then they seemed to dim, and a repetition of the earlier warnings whispered through her mind.

  Be watchful.

  Be wary.

  The smallest once more fixed her with a pointed look, even as the others turned away.

  He comes.

  The rustling faded from her mind even as the dryads faded from sight—or more, seemed to sink back into the trees behind them. Ky’ara blinked and bent to finish gathering the roots she had abandoned when the tree-nymphs had caught her attention.

  “I take it they’re gone now?” Lauryn commented, shaking as much dirt as she could off the tubers and placing them carefully in her pack. Ky’ara just nodded, lost in thought as she finished her work.

  “Well, what did they say?” Lauryn pressed, “It had to have been something awful important for dryads to take the initiative to appear. Myrnai always said they were the most reticent of nymphs—Old as the most ancient trees they are, and not to be rushed. They know that all things pass, in time, and are usually content to watch and wait rather than enter a conflict…That’s what she said anyways.”

  Ky’ara looked at the girl with a half-smile. “Do you always talk this much when you’re nervous?”

  Lauryn shrugged her shoulders and then absently rubbed one arm. “Not usually. I think it’s just the weirdness of knowing something is there and not being able to hear or see it—it leaves me feeling all spooked. You can’t say I don’t have good reason for that.”

  Ky’ara nodded understandingly. Earlier in the day Lauryn had told them all in more detail about what had happened when Sukylar came to rescue her. Eerie feelings were not to be taken lightly—it could very well be the only indication of danger before an attack.

  “They gave me a warning,” Ky’ara informed her, “Only I’m not sure how close the threat is…they were very unspecific.”

  Lauryn shrugged. “I imagine that is their way. Nymphs don’t like to get involved in our disputes. That they have come forward now means that this co
nflict must be affecting the Dreamworld in one way or another. Likely the danger is more general than immediate. Still…we’d best keep a sharp eye out for anything untoward.”

  The two girls finished their gathering and returned to the clearing in time to help Joran and Sukylar start a fire to smoke their catch. They’d managed to snare over a dozen decent sized fish. If they could keep the fire at the right temperature all night, by morning they’d have a nice store of meat for the coming days. Taren strode back into the clearing just as Ky’ara was beginning to worry about him. The shadows had long-since lengthened and stretched across the whole clearing, leaving their camp in a sort of half-light as the sun sank below the trees. He unwrapped the carcass of a large rabbit (which he had skinned and cleaned in the woods, thank the Light) and threaded it onto a stick to join the fish over the fire. When he joined Ky’ara on the small log she was using as a seat, she sighed and wearily leaned her head on his shoulder. He smiled tentatively and tilted his head to rest against hers. It had been a long day for them all.

  A little later Taren carried a deeply sleeping Ky’ara to her bedroll while Joran banked the fire. Lauryn took the first watch, so while the others prepared to sleep, Taren wrapped himself in a blanket and stared up at the stars. They were the one thing that hadn’t changed in the last five hundred years. Staring into the depths of the night sky filled him with a momentary longing for home—for the training yards where he had perfected his skills as a Keeper, or the simple stone chambers in Eléirathös where he and Arys had returned after each assignment abroad. He glanced across the fire at Ky’ara’s perfectly still figure and felt his tension ease. Looking up again, this time the familiar constellations steadied him and his yearning for the past gave way to a feeling of contentment. These stars were the same ones he and Arys had gazed upon so often when they approached the city on their way home. They were getting close.

  * * * * *

  She rushed through the streets of an abandoned town, desperate to reach safety, but unsure what she was running from. Everything was grey, muted. If she glanced to the side, she could see shadows lurking in the alleyways, watching silently as she darted past. As she rounded the next corner, she was suddenly flung to the ground as though grabbed from behind…but when she picked herself up and turned to look, there was no one there. The street darkened, and a shadow she could barely discern materialized in front of her. She tried to turn and run, but it picked her up by the throat and held her at arm’s length, crushing her windpipe as she dangled helplessly. Something seared across her back and hot blood dripped from her limply hanging left arm. She stopped struggling, darkness closed around her and she was falling…falling…

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara woke with a start, opening her eyes and staring up past the silhouetted tips of the pine trees to the benignly twinkling stars. It was just a dream. She must not have screamed this time, because Lauryn sat silently facing the trees and everyone else still slept. Should she wake Taren? She glanced across the clearing. Tiny gold and red flames licked across the blackened remnants of logs in their now dying fire and the hellish glow sparked her memory. With a touch of relief she realized her dream was just an ordinary nightmare.

  During the invasion of Ainon Caseia the Necromancer had confronted her as she was running from the Djakyls and he had choked her, just like the shadow in her dream. In the actual event she had been riding initially, not on foot, but the streets in her dream were similar to the streets of the rebel fortress, and during that encounter her back and left arm had been wounded. The similarities were enough to satisfy her worries. It was just a nightmare.

  She lay still, gazing up at the stars and trying to focus on something else. It was just a dream. An amalgamation of memories and feelings distorted by the Dreamworld and played in her mind as a result of her subconscious dwelling on what had happened last summer. Ky’ara smiled wryly—she was using Myrnai’s technical explanations of things to console herself. She pulled her mind away from these thoughts and contemplated instead how the nearly-full moon just peeked above the trees and the warm expanse of darkness above it seemed to stretch on endlessly the longer she looked. Sometime a little later, her eyes drooped wearily and she slipped back into the realm of sleep.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara looked around with a sigh. The moon’s light reflected off of the water of the lake. She pushed her way through the trees surrounding the shoreline and stared across the water at the bank of fog that obscured the island for what had to be the hundredth time. When nothing new presented itself, she cleared her thoughts and then focused on the clearing where she usually met Myrnai. They weren’t supposed to meet for another couple days, but Ky’ara didn’t know what else to do—she’d done nothing but fumble around last time and she didn’t like the idea of going back in time again accidentally.

  When Myrnai did not appear, Ky’ara closed her metaphysical eyes and lay down in the grass. She tried to tune out the whispers that seemed to permeate the air, focusing instead on her breathing and relaxing each part of her incorporeal body one at a time. The exercise distracted her mind, but seemed to do little to help her return to normal sleep permanently. So she drifted, sometimes in the Dreamworld, sometimes in the numb darkness of ordinary sleep. Floating.

  * * * * *

  The next day they broke camp early and followed the brook downstream. Follow the water, she had been told and she intended to do that even if it did seem a bit counterintuitive to be moving in that particular direction. It was slow going, because they could not stay too close to the riverbank due to the overgrown brush and patches of loose gravel. Ky’ara didn’t mind. The uneven ground helped her to stay awake. While her body was mostly fine, her mind was foggy from the lack of ordinary sleep. She found her mind wandering almost uncontrollably at times. Occasionally she glimpsed more dryads—their green eyes deep and solemn—though sometimes she wondered if they were just figments of her overtired mind.

  They continued on in search of the main river, foraging when they could and living off whatever small game Taren shot with his bow. For Ky’ara, the next few days were a blur. Nights passed restlessly; she couldn’t seem to stay in regular slumber for more than a few hours. Nothing would make her happier than to close her eyes and not hear the gentle whispers of restless spirits. To never lay eyes on the swirling fog again, nor feel the aimless floating that seemed to be her fate whether she slept or woke.

  When she collapsed into her bedroll a few days after their escape and finally found Myrnai waiting in the clearing, she was almost too tired to care.

  * * * * *

  “Are you alright?” Mynai asked. She had been absently picking flowers when Ky’ara appeared next to her. The girl had nodded to her in greeting, then just sat a little ways away, pulled her legs in, and rested her chin on her knees.

  Ky’ara shrugged. “I’ve had a hard time sleeping…ever since I accidentally woke Taren I’ve had a hard time staying out of the Dreamworld…well, actually, I guess it’s been ever since I intentionally came here to find you.”

  “What do you mean, about waking Taren?” Myrnai asked.

  Ky’ara stood up and scuffed her foot against the grass distractedly. “Oh, it’s just…after I last met you, I returned to the Dreamworld and when I tried to backtrack from the island, I found Taren asleep on the beach…I think I went back in time, because then I kissed him and he disappeared…”

  “You what?!” Myrnai exclaimed, setting aside the flowers she’d been toying with and standing to face Ky’ara.

  “I think I’m the one who sent Taren back into the real world when he woke two years ago. I found his body here…” Ky’ara started to explain again.

  “You don’t need to repeat yourself, girl. I heard you the first time,” Myrnai cut her off, “I was merely expressing my surprise. I thought I warned you to stay away from the Dreamworld unless it was something urgent?”

  “I tried!” Ky’ara felt vaguely annoyed. Funny how Myrnai looking young made her b
luntness seem more like bossiness. A bossy old lady was easy to put up with—she clearly had the advantage of experience and wisdom. But a bossy girl was somehow much more irritating, even though Ky’ara knew they were the same person. “You never gave me any way to keep myself out of it! I didn’t want to spend the whole night waking myself up and then trying to go back to sleep again only to find myself back here a thousand times! Shades! I’ve spent the last few days practically sleepwalking because I either do that and my body gets no sleep, or I resign myself to being here all night and my mind gets no rest.”

  Myrnai frowned. “Something must be drawing you here. Light! I wish Arys had explained more…if you were the reason Taren woke then I’m sure part of this is her fault…blasted woman always had to control everything. Thought she knew what was best for everyone…of course she usually did…” Myrnai sighed, suddenly looking immensely tired—her young features more closely resembling the old woman Ky’ara knew.

  “There is no help for it. If you find yourself here again after trying to resume regular sleep, you had best come back to the meadow and think my name. With some luck perchance I can find a way to prevent you from suffering any major consequences from being here too long.”

  “But, wouldn’t staying here be just as dangerous for you?” Ky’ara asked, “You said last time the danger was becoming stuck here…wouldn’t you also run that risk?”

  Myrnai shook her head. “The Dreamworld poses no danger to me,” she said. Her tone almost sounded self-mocking.