Ancient Allies (The Malvers War Book 2)

by Tora Moon

  * * *

  The sand dragged at Blazel’s feet. He trudged forward, concentrating on putting one large, clawed foot in front of the other. Aistrun stumbled. Blazel reached out to steady him but nearly fell himself. This isn’t working. I’m too tired, and the Phengriffs will protect us. He let go of the magic that held him in warrior form and slid into his wolf form. The baethor ichor was still on his fur and away from his body so he wouldn’t get burned, but now he could walk better on four feet.

  Aistrun looked down at him in a stupor, and then a moment later a red-gold wolf stood where Aistrun had been. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his head drooped. He gave a small yip and started following the horses again.

  They made much better time after the two shifted to four feet. The sand gave way to a rocky downgrade, which dropped into a lush valley where spring was in full bloom. Flowers dotted the meadow of bright green grass, and the trees sported blossoms and the buds of new leaves. Blazel kept his head down, following the trail, not seeing the beauty around him. When they reached the meadow, he and Aistrun stopped and rolled in the grass, scraping off some of the dried ichor from their fur.

  Beyond the meadow, huge trees soared into the sky. Their broad crowns linked together, forming a canopy above the forest. The Phengriffs flew to the trees, landed in them, and promptly disappeared—even the behemoth.

  Graak landed near them. *We’ll stay here for the night. Follow me.* He led the group under the trees and into a large clearing.

  The trunks formed a ring of huge pillars, and the branches entwined high overhead formed platforms that creaked in the slight breeze. Across the clearing from where they entered, several Phengriffs were dipping their beaks into a small pool formed by the creek that flowed through the clearing. Steam rose from two pools. The larger one was near where the Phengriffs were drinking, and the smaller one was closer to where the group stood. Blazel looked at it with longing, wanting to get the rest of the baethor ichor off his fur.

  *You can make camp here,* Graak said. *After you’ve cleaned up, you can rest and eat. Tonight, you’ll tell us why the Supreme sent you.* He leaped into the air and flew to the platforms.

  Blazel loped to the hot pool and jumped in. He shifted to warrior form, grabbed a handful of sand from the pool’s bottom, and began to scrub his pelt.

  Aistrun yipped and jumped into the pool. He dunked under the water, came back up—water sluicing from his body— and shifted into his human form. “There’s nothing like getting clean after a monster fight. Well, food is good, and sex is even better.”

  Blazel couldn’t help but laugh. He finished scrubbing his pelt, rinsed, then shifted to his human form. He was getting used to being naked around the others.

  “Be you hogging the hot water all day?” Jaehaas asked, his front hoof pawing the ground. “The rest of us want to wash the stink off of us too.”

  “Sorry,” Blazel murmured and stepped out. The air was cold after the hot water, and he was shivering so hard his teeth chattered.

  “Here,” Wisah said, holding a towel out to him. She had another one in her hand for Aistrun, and a pile sat beside her feet.

  “Thanks,” Blazel said, taking the towel and hurriedly wrapping himself up in it. Someone had taken his packs off Lighzel. He raced to them and quickly pulled on warm clothes.

  After he was dressed, he noticed Chariel struggling to set up a tent. He went over to help her. She and Wisah weren’t covered in baethor gunk; Rizelya’s fire shield had protected them from it. But dark circles bruised Chariel’s eyes and her hands trembled as she worked.

  “Is it always that bad?” she asked, a tremor in her voice.

  Blazel’s forehead crinkled in confusion, then realization hit him. “Oh, it was your first battle, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded, her lips quivering. He gathered her into his arms and she burst into tears. He held her for a long time. Chariel had grown up in an idyllic environment untouched by violence. The biennial Alpha Competitions were the only fighting she had ever seen, and no one was ever seriously injured or killed in them. Chariel had never even seen any livestock slaughtered.

  He glanced over Chariel’s shoulder to see Wisah being held by Jaehaas. She wasn’t in as much shock—she’d spent time in Strunland Keep and had seen fighters return—but she, too, had never been part of a battle before. Today was an initiation for both of them into the life most Posairs lived. If they were going to remain outside the Sanctuary, they would need to get used to it. If all the signs were true, more—and worse—battles were coming.

  Blazel heard the snap of canvas and twisted his head to see Aistrun and Rizelya finishing setting up the tents. Sometime while he was holding Chariel, Rizelya had cleaned up; her wet hair was dripping down her back. Instead of red leathers, she wore a dark green quilted tunic, which set off her brown eyes, and wool trousers in a lighter green.

  “We’ve work to do,” Chariel said, pulling away from him and wiping away her tears. “I can’t stay protected in your arms forever.”

  Blazel pulled her tighter, then let her go. Someone, probably Rizelya, had started a fire. Chariel turned away, knelt in front of it, and pulled items from the food pack. Wisah hurried over to help her, and together they started preparing their evening meal. Soon the smell of savory stew and baking pan bread filled the clearing.

  They had just finished eating when Graak glided into their camp.

  *What happened to your head feathers, Blazel?* Graak asked.

  Blazel put a hand up to his hair and picked up a dreadlock. “It seemed easier to keep them than shave my head. I like them now.”

  *It will take some getting used to.* Graak peered at Blazel’s hair, picking up a long dreadlock with his nimble talons. He dropped it and asked, *So what messes have you gotten into since leaving us?*

  “Well, I’ve spent the last three years living in the swamps,” Blazel said.

  *What? Why would you go to those nasty places?*

  Blazel frowned and pointed at Chariel. “She sent me. I get in more trouble because of her. She had sent me to the Deep Mountains when you found me.”

  *I remember. You were in sad shape. I never did see anyone less suited for the mountains than you—or less capable of surviving on their own.* Graak reached out and brushed a knuckle along the scars on Blazel’s cheek. *At least you don’t have more scars.*

  “Ha!” Blazel tugged off his boot, pulled up his pant leg, and pointed to the scar circling his ankle. “This is from a swamp plant that tried to eat me. This—” he pulled up his tunic to show the two puncture marks on his ribs “—was from an angulete, a flying snake.” He heard Rizelya’s indrawn breath.

  “Other than the five years I lived with you, Graak,” Blazel said, putting his clothing to rights. “and the few short visits to the Sanctuary, I’ve lived alone and managed to stay alive. There are twisted beasts in the swamps worse than the baethor, and I fought every one of them. I am quite capable of surviving.” Blazel crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the fire.

  “Graak, we’re here to ask for your help,” Rizelya said. “Down below, there’s a new Malvers monster, one that controls the others. I’ve seen a woman who controls them. The Supreme said she was a Malvers.”

  *Malvers!* Graak reared onto his hindquarters, wings flapping. Sparks from the fire flew up. He threw back his head and warbled a frightening cry.

  Blazel grimaced. The Phengriffs had long memories and they told stories about the foul people they had fought in the Great War. He now believed the hated people in their stories and the Malvers were the same. He’d wanted to gently introduce the subject.

  Graak’s cry was causing a ruckus on the platforms above. Dark shapes leaped and zoomed toward the fire. Within moments, every Phengriff in the camp was sitting around their fire, tails swishing in agitation. The huge eagle-type Phengriff stalked toward Blazel and his friends. The firelight gleamed on the gold feathers of his head and chest. Gold tinged the edges of his wings. His shoulders wer
e level with Blazel’s head. He loomed over them.

  *What is the meaning of this?* he boomed. *Where are the hated Malvers?*

  *Tell him, Rizelya,* Graak said, dipping his head low. *This is Moraak. His father is our king.*

  Rizelya stood up and bowed low to the prince.

  “Moraak,” Rizelya said, “I am deeply honored to meet you. I am saddened we could not have met under better circumstances. We’ve come to renew the ancient alliance between our people and yours.”

  Moraak reared back and spread his wings and fire burst from his throat. *We’ll never be slaves again!*

  He dropped back down and stalked to stand in front of Rizelya. He lifted his front foot and jabbed a huge talon with eight-inch claws at her chest. Blazel was impressed when she didn’t step back. Her hands clenched into tight fists.

  *There is no alliance, girl, for us to renew. We had no choice in the things we did for our masters. We fought who they told us to fight. Horrible monsters.* The feathers on his head raised.

  “We’re no strangers to fighting monsters,” Rizelya said. “We’ve been fighting them since the end of the war. They are being controlled by a woman, a horrible woman. She uses the monsters to kill; she eats the victims’ death, and with each death she and her people eat, the stronger they become. This is what we’ve come to ask you to help us stop.”

  *How do you know this? The Malvers were exiled and died in that exile.*

  “They didn’t die. She invades my dreams. Shall I describe her for you?” At Moraak’s nod, Rizelya continued. “She has pale, gray skin, dark charcoal-gray hair, and black eyes; they don’t have any pupils. Instead of fingers, she has long, needle-like claws. She’s been starved for a long time and now is extremely gaunt.”

  *This is how we remember the Malvers.* Moraak’s tail flipped in agitation. He hunkered onto his back paws and resettled his wings. *I will hear your story.*

  Aistrun stood up, bowed to Moraak, and said, “So you shall. It started one day just like any other. Our platoon left Strunland Keep to destroy a nearby monster nest. To our surprise, it was three times the normal size. Janacks and brechas were disgorged to reveal a new janack that was huge and had a strange protrusion on its head. One brave Red—” Aistrun looked significantly at Rizelya “—attacked the new janack. Much to all of our consternation, the only way to kill the monster was to blow it up.”

  Aistrun’s voice fell into the storyteller’s cadence, and everyone around the clearing was focused on him. Blazel listened just as raptly as the rest of the crowd as Aistrun told the story of his and Rizelya’s mad journey across Strunlair Province and their many monster fights. They hissed at Keandran’s cruelty, and clapped at Rizelya’s ingenuity in utilizing all the Talents. The pile of firewood was low when Aistrun came to the end of his story, when they arrived at the Sanctuary.

  Wisah then told them about Chariel’s prophecy. “I’m sure the hawk is you, Graak,” she said. “The horse is obviously Jaehaas, here. We need you. We need your people.”

  “There is something dark coming to our world,” Chariel said. “It brings madness, and if any of us are to survive, we need all of us to fight.” A silvery film covered her eyes and her voice changed, became deeper. “It comes! Beware the skies. Danger flies on metal wings. Stolen souls to never return to the Mother’s Womb. Stop! Stop the madness! Aaahh.” Chariel held her head in her hands, groaning, and then collapsed. Aistrun caught her and gently lowered her to the ground.

  At her words, a chill went through Blazel, and he remembered his strange dreams of flaming meteors bringing blood and death. Shaking it off, he strode around the fire to stand in front of the huge Phengriff.

  “Moraak, you heard her,” Blazel said. “That was a prophecy. You and your people are needed. This isn’t going to be a fight for just the Posairs, but for everyone living on Lairheim.”

  Moraak cocked his head to the side, looking away from Blazel and the other Posairs. Several long milcrons later he turned back to them. *I can’t deny the words of the prophet, Chariel. Danger is coming to our world. But—* he held up a talon *—this is not a decision I can make. It is for my father to decide if we are to join you in this new war. You’ll come with us to Alkaak and tell him what you have seen. Rest now, we leave at dawn.*

  Moraak gave a sharp cry, and the Phengriffs filling the clearing swooped up to the tree platforms until only Moraak and Graak were left.

  *I will do all I can to persuade my father,* Moraak said. *Our mystics have also seen trouble coming.* He pushed with his powerful hind legs and leaped into the air. A swoop of his massive wings stirred the leaves in the clearing and startled the horses.

  *It is a great privilege,* Graak said, *to visit our city and talk to our king. No Posair has ever been permitted to enter Alkaak. During the journey I will teach you the proper protocol.*

  “I’m honored.” Blazel placed his right hand over his heart and dipped his head in a small bow. He turned to his friends and said, “Even I haven’t been to Alkaak. In the five years I lived with the Phengriff flight, I was never taken to the city. They made me stay in the outer camps, like this one.”

  “I be excited to see it,” Jaehaas said. “What a great adventure to tell my people.”

  “How far is it to Alkaak?” Blazel asked.

  *For us, only two days. For you on your horses, four or five. Sleep now. Morning comes quickly.* Graak leaped up, and with a few wing strokes, disappeared into the night.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Rizelya said with a yawn. “It sounds like we have more long days in the saddle ahead of us.” She turned on her heel, strode to the women’s tent, and crawled inside.

  Blazel and the others followed her lead and went to bed.

  Chapter 13

  Huddled under her blankets and shivering, Rizelya wished she could convince Blazel to share her bed with her. During the night, Aistrun had crept into the women’s tent and snuggled with Chariel. He’d been spending most of his time with the beautiful Gray. Rizelya tried to block out the quiet sounds of their lovemaking. She turned over and her eyes caught the longing look in her niece’s eyes.

  “I can’t ever have that with Jaehaas,” Wisah whispered. “Riz, I’m a White. I’m not supposed to fall in love.”

  Rizelya snorted and crawled out of her covers and scurried into Wisah’s. “Who said you couldn’t fall in love?” Rizelya quietly asked, nose-to-nose. “You’re still a woman, and the Goddess doesn’t expect celibacy from Her priestesses.”

  “Yes, I’m allowed to have casual sex, but not to fall in love. I’ve dedicated my life and given my love to the Goddess. How am I supposed to split it with Jaehaas? I’m falling in love with him, but we can’t be together. After all of this is done, I’ll go back to the Sanctuary and he’ll go back to the plains.” Tears trickled down Wisah’s face. She picked up a lock of creamy white hair and held it out. “I can’t change who I am. I was born a White and will always be one.”

  “And Jaehaas will always be a centaur. Don’t give up before you’ve even given love a chance. There are temples in Haaslair Province. You could serve in one of them and be near Jaehaas. You’re not the first, nor will you be the last, White Priestess to fall in love. Things will work out. Take this time to get to know him and then decide later what you want to do with your life. With everything Chariel’s been saying, we may not even survive to have a later. So love now while you have the chance.”

  Wisah sniffled. “The same to you. I’ve seen how you look at Blazel.”

  “I would, if I could just get him to look back.”

  “Oh, he looks.”

  “That’s the problem, he just looks. If he doesn’t do more soon, I’ll go crazy and jump him.”

  Wisah laughed. “Give him some time. He and Chariel have had a different childhood than we did. They grew up in the cloisters.”

  “Hasn’t stopped her.” Rizelya threw her head back, indicating the couple behind them.

  A strange warbling sounded through the clearing.r />
  “What’s that?” Rizelya asked.

  Outside the tent, wings rustled as Graak landed. *Rise and shine,* he called out, his mind-voice startling Rizelya. She was still getting used to the Phengriffs being able to mind-speak to anyone and in the Posarian language. Their spoken language consisted of clicks, screeches, and hisses. *Time to leave.*

  Aistrun’s head poked out of Chariel’s blankets. He saw Rizelya and Wisah and grinned at them. “I’m already up and shining.”

  Rizelya rolled her eyes and groaned. She gave Wisah a quick hug before crawling out. She pulled on her thick woolen navy-blue tunic that fell to her knees and woolen trousers over her red riding leathers. If it warmed up, she could take off the extra layers. After dressing, she rolled up her bedroll and gathered all her things into her bag.

  Throwing on her warm crimson-red cloak, given to her by Keshanal, she stepped outside the tent and was greeted by a gray day. Fog rolled on the ground and dripped from the trees overhead. It spun in eddies around her feet as she walked. Blazel was already up and feeding wood to the coals of their fire. He looked up and smiled at her. He hadn’t shaved for a few days and the beginnings of a beard dusted his face. She smiled back and sauntered across the clearing to find a tree for her morning toilet.

  When Rizelya returned to the fire, everyone in her group was up and huddled around it, including Graak. Wisah was wrapped in a thick white cloak that seemed to radiate light in the fog. She sat next to Jaehaas, who was kneeling, his arm around her. As she leaned her head against his chest, Jaehaas looked down at her fondly. Rizelya smiled to see her niece taking her advice.