Band of Breakers

by Alisha Klapheke

  A movement caught Ryton’s eye. Some creature shifted a leaf near his foot. The thing leapt from its hiding spot and landed on Ryton’s knee.

  Ryton froze.

  The beast was no bigger than a fist. Two lines ran down its back. A measly tail pointed from its end. As the disgusting thing nibbled what looked like a large seed, its tiny, liquid eyes watched him. He shuddered. Would it bite him? Its mouth was far too small to cause great damage. But what if it was venomous like some sea snakes?

  The furred being hopped off his leg without incident before scurrying through the grass.

  Ryton released a breath and chided himself yet again. One wee beast and he froze? Was he not the greatest general in the sea? Thank the Source that Grystark hadn’t been here to witness that scene. Ryton never would have heard the end of the ribbing.

  He watched the creature climb another tree ten feet away. The beast joined two others, and they chittered like old friends. A fourth creature emerged from a tangle of dry seaweed—no, just weeds—its form far smaller. A youngling. The furry things nuzzled one another before running into the nest to hide from an osprey’s shadow.

  The words for above-water life were coming back to him. It’d been many years since his youthful schooling, but the information was there, only needing to be shaken from his streamlined, military mind.

  Selene’s smiling face blinked behind his eyes. His sister had been top of her class in above-water topics, a frowned-upon yet tolerated subject. One had to know their enemy. Selene had been the youngest to pass the dragon test. Ryton’s teeth ground together. Such an irony. Selene had been interested in the very creatures who had burned her to death.

  What would she have thought of this mission of his?

  If he’d been killed that day instead of her—every day he wished for it—would she be here, hunting the one soul who could keep the dragons and all the land creatures alive? Surely, she would. Wouldn’t she?

  Ryton grabbed for the sharpening stone again and went to work on his spear just to have something to do with his hands.

  Selene’s voice echoed through his memory. He could almost hear her in his head.

  “Big brother and his brave plans! I wonder what the queen will do with you if you ever do make it into her inner circle. You are far too handsome to ignore. And much too quick for her to dismiss. Perhaps you will be the next queen’s consort? If you gain all the immense sway I think you will, you must promise to take me near the coast for an expedition.”

  Ryton shook his head, and the sharpening stone slipped from his fingers. Pressure built behind his eyes and in his throat. She had been teasing, but she’d stumbled onto the true future.

  Ryton had become Astraea’s consort and her general. But here was the expedition, and Selene was long dead. Would she have marveled at the furry creatures? Would she have wanted to spy on a dragon?

  A sad smile quirked Ryton’s lips. He coughed again, throat tight with raw air and raw pain. She would’ve loved this quest, despite the pain and the fear. Selene had been remarkably tough considering how small she’d been at birth. She had been as squirmy as a little squid when she was an infant. Her face had filled with wonder when Ryton wiggled an eyebrow to entertain her.

  Ryton leaned his head back on one of the trees’ rough and spindly trunks and let the memories wash over him. She had been taken too soon. Gripping his spear, knuckles straining, he wished he would have acted differently the day she died. He could have come up beside her more quickly. With one change in that day’s events, he might have been able to block the dragonfire for a moment and let her escape. One wrong move and he’d lost her.

  His spear fell to the ground beside him, and he flexed his hands, hands that had once held a sweet girl. He looked toward the sea and was glad a slim cloud cover blanketed the vicious sun so he could actually focus on the jagged waves of pearl white and soothing blue.

  Perhaps Selene watched him now. Perhaps she too wished he’d acted differently that fateful day.

  Shaking his head, he pushed the guilt under the sand drifts of time.

  Only now mattered.

  He couldn’t change the past. It was foolish to moan over mistakes made long ago. Now he had the chance to act, to avenge Selene, to destroy the one person who might protect the vicious dragons.

  Nothing mattered except assassinating the Earth Queen.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Just when Vahly thought this was it, the end, Death raising his scythe, Kyril lifted his head, torqued his wings, and flew in a vertical parallel to the mountain, his paws and belly brushing the cliff.

  A laugh pealed out of Vahly. Her legs gripped the gryphon’s body as he canted up and over the rounded peak. The wind of their flight rattled a congregation of holm oaks. Kyril jettisoned into the sky, and Vahly closed her eyes, feeling like nothing could stop them now.

  She inhaled the scent of the earth far below, its metallic tang of rock and mineral. The musk of animal surrounded Kyril, and her nose could even sense that same hint from the creatures hiding in the clusters of olives and in the caves. Rejecting the scent of the not-too-distant sea, she focused on the earth and the land animals.

  Earth magic drummed in her ears, and she felt that same old tug, the sensation that was quickly becoming familiar. The magic brought her gaze up and forced her to look southeast.

  The Lapis territory?

  A negative sensation pressed her head.

  Where did it want her to look? The city of thieves? The cider house? She frowned. It should’ve been clear to her. This journey toward a power that could fight the Sea Queen wasn’t at its end yet. She had more to learn and far greater things to accomplish. If not, the dragons, the elves, and Vahly herself would fall beneath the sea folk’s devouring waves.

  In her mind, the image of the mosaic in the obsidian cathedral materialized. The gryphon in the center. The four corners that showed the Blackwater spring, a group of familiars, a swaddled infant, and a massive oak. She’d washed in the spring and her power had finally opened its eyes. Now, she had her familiar.

  The corners might represent the steps she had to take to come fully into her magic.

  Vahly’s mouth fell open.

  Yes, her magic seemed to whisper. Go.

  And she knew. The antlers next to the swaddled baby meant she had to visit her birthplace with her familiar. She and Kyril had to venture into the Lost Valley, where her mother had given birth, where her mother had offered her up to Amona.

  A rightness suffused Vahly’s bones.

  The sensation lightened the weight on her shoulders and set her heart into perfect rhythm with the earth’s pulsing beat, a sound that never really left her these days. She touched her chest and smiled, the sound and feel of her magic a comfort, strengthening her.

  But before they could risk the trip to the Lost Valley, she and Kyril had some Arc-style experimenting to do.

  And the earth below was calling, calling, calling.

  Summoning every drumming beat of earth magic in her blood, Vahly followed her instincts, didn’t question why, and firmly commanded with a word.

  “Fly!”

  On the ground, in the speeding shadow of both Nix and Kyril, a bank of thick vines tangled into the dirt. An oval boulder boasting quartz that dazzled Vahly’s eyes tumbled to meet five more smaller boulders. The rocks smashed the dirt where the vines had disappeared.

  Sandy ground exploded.

  Vahly couldn’t close her gaping mouth at the creature that emerged from the chaos.

  A gryphon made of earth magic lifted into the air with a screech that buffeted Vahly’s ears. Wings of vine and dirt pushed the air to lift the new gryphon’s head of quartz-laden rock, body of rolled and molded stone, and claws and beak of the blackest roots.

  A shiver ran over Vahly. She gripped Kyril’s scruff.

  The earthen gryphon consumed the air and rose to meet them. The magic had used the rock to reproduce a detailed, hooked beak as well as empty and narrowed eye sock
ets that made Vahly intensely relieved the creation was on her side of things.

  With another screech, the earthen gryphon opened its beak. A pointed tongue of braided vines flicked from its mouth.

  May I throw air magic at your creation, my queen? Arc’s voice was tight with excitement.

  Kyril and his double soared high, then swooped low.

  Go for it, but I’ll be honest, I’m a little scared of my own work here.

  Nix huffed, a snorting gust in the rushing winds. Did you think defeating Queen Astraea would involve simple hoods and a con? You’re a true Earth Queen, and we have waited so, so long for you, my lovely. Own it.

  Vahly’s trembling fingers knotted the thick fur at Kyril’s neck, just under the last of his head’s great feathers. Nix stretched her elegant neck and held her chin at a proud tilt as she flew closer to the earthen gryphon.

  Arc blasted the earthen gryphon with a glittering sphere of light and dark.

  Vahly clenched her teeth. The air magic could injure Kyril. It might turn the earthen beast into something foul.

  The magic splashed the created gryphon. Waves of sparkling light and dancing shadows clung to its wings, then flowed over its body, head, and tail of vines.

  And then the entire creation disappeared.

  Vahly held her breath. Arcturus. What did you do?

  He hissed something in elvish. I think it lives still. Please just keep a watch, my queen.

  Vahly wondered if perhaps the magic could be viewed better from the corner of her eye, from indirect focus on the workings, just as it was around Arc’s head and hands. She turned her head and watched the place beside Kyril, where the creature had been a moment ago. But she saw nothing.

  Until she did.

  Tentacles the colors of midnight and noon clasped the earthen gryphon, winding, shimmering, dazzling. But if Vahly tried too hard to examine the magic, it faded from view.

  You camouflaged him! I can see it.

  Nice work, alchemist. Nix blew a blast of dragonfire and started to descend. She was probably tiring.

  Wait, Nix. Please! Arc shouted. Vahly could see his head bending closer to Nix’s ear. Would you blow more fire toward the earthen gryphon? Just in front of him.

  You’ll destroy it, Vahly said. The rogues used their fire to roast the other creatures we made, or did you forget that nightmare? I wish I could.

  She will aim in front of it, he said. And I hypothesize my air magic will protect it from destruction. Are you willing to risk it?

  Vahly gave him a nod. I’ll take the gamble. Nix? Are you willing?

  Nix rushed Kyril and Vahly, and then flew straight up, giving them a wink before pouring dragonfire down, exactly in the place Arc had indicated. It wasn’t an easy feat, as she had to fly in an odd position, nearly flying backwards. Vahly remembered Amona utilizing the move in a battle near the sea folk’s capitol of Tidehame.

  Nix’s dragonfire broke across the earthen gryphon’s beak.

  The weave of air magic buffeted the flames like a wall. But they wouldn’t be going against fire in the coming fights against the sea folk. Dragonfire was on their side. Vahly was about to suggest they all head back down to rest when a strange sound cracked the air.

  The earthen gryphon opened its beak, and emerald fire poured from its mouth to lance the quiet, cerulean sky.

  Vahly blinked, unbelieving. Her earthen gryphon had breathed fire.

  The combined use of fire, air, and earth magic had brought another fire-breathing creature into life, a being that might fight on their side against the sea.

  Tipping its wings in a salute to Vahly, the earthen gryphon roared flames again.

  Kyril startled and listed to the right.

  Nix lifted higher, but not in time. Her talons scored Vahly’s ear, and both pain and blood heated Vahly’s face.

  Stones, Vahly! I am sorry!

  Kyril keened and dropped. Vahly’s stomach lurched at the rapid descent as the ground raced at them. The earthen gryphon mimicked Kyril’s panic and rushed toward a landing place. But it was traveling too quickly. It would be destroyed on impact.

  “It’s all right,” Vahly said to Kyril, trying to calm him. The wind ripped her words from her mouth. Kyril most likely couldn’t even hear her. She tried to speak louder, then repeated the same telepathically. The fire won’t hurt us. It will fight for us. With us.

  Head pounding, palms slick with perspiration, Vahly twisted to see the earthen gryphon plummet and smash into the ground.

  Exactly the ending she and Kyril would experience if he didn’t shake this panic.

  I understand. But I swear on the Source, we’re all right. Feel the wind through your feathers, Kyril. We’re alive. Let’s keep it that way, eh?

  Nix and Arc shouted in a jumble of telepathic nonsense. She knew they were right behind her and Kyril.

  Kyril flashed images at Vahly. The colors and shapes showed a blurred version of what had just happened.

  Vahly took a slow breath and forced herself to smooth a gentle, non-panicked hand over the back of Kyril’s head. Just land us carefully, and I promise you all will be well.

  A shudder rippled beneath Kyril’s pelt. He extended his wings and slowed their descent.

  Exhaling with relief, Vahly braced herself for the impact, but Kyril’s paws greeted the earth without a bump, and Vahly found herself once again safely on land.

  Nix touched down beside them, and Arc leapt to the ground, graceful as always.

  He held a hand up to help Vahly down. Normally, she would’ve waved him off with a smile, but Kyril’s little death wish adventure had shaken her. She accepted Arc’s warm hand, curling her fingers around his. His other hand went to the small of her back. He pulled her close as he helped her down, his body caressing hers. Vahly’s breath hitched, stuck in her throat, as she met his dark gaze.

  “My queen.” His lips quirked into a pleased grin. “That was quite a show.”

  Green fire! Nix shouted into their heads. I have never heard of such a thing. Very impressive. She shook her great head and bared her teeth in a dragon’s version of a smile. I can’t wait to plot out how we can use this against the sea monsters. They’ll be so surprised! Arcturus, thank you for pushing us to combine our magic up there. Nicely played, elf.

  “We’ll need to test the earth fire on sea water as well as flesh and scale.”

  Nix shuddered, her tail whipping the blooms off a salt cedar.

  “Way to ruin the mood.” Vahly pinched his side. She reached over his arm to pat Kyril before the gryphon loped to a bunch of grass, where he crouched to hunt some small simplebeast.

  “Nothing can ruin this.” Arc smiled, his gaze pulling Vahly’s attention to him.

  She had the urge to kiss him right then and there, to press her mouth on his and celebrate this new magic in the best way.

  Fire blazed where Nix had stood, and suddenly, she was in her human-like form.

  Vahly started to pull away from Arc, but his hold on her body tightened as if in request. Vahly swallowed as Arc’s chest moved against her in a heavy breath.

  Nix waved her fingers over her shoulder as she walked away. “I’m going to grab my backup dress while you two take a moment. We created some grand power between us.” She disappeared into their cave.

  Towering above Vahly and Arc, Kyril tugged a strand of Vahly’s hair, his wide eyes pleading. She pressed her palm against his beak, and he cooed. He narrowed his eagle eyes at Arc as if in warning, then turned and followed Nix.

  The ocean crashed in the distance, and the chirp of distura birds filled the air.

  Arc’s tree sap scent tantalized Vahly’s nose. The sweep of his hand down her spine heated her better than any fire.

  “If you keep that up, elf, I might burst into flames right here. Then where would you be?”

  He raised an eyebrow and whispered against her forehead, his breath hot. “So you wish for me to stop?”

  Goosebumps ravaged Vahly’s arms and sides. “I supp
ose I could tolerate it for a few minutes. Though you know we have work to do.”

  His fingers slid into her hair and mussed the already falling braid. The touch of his fingers turned her joints to pudding, and she fought to retain an ounce of dignity, not certain if he felt as strongly as she did. Perhaps this was just a nice bit of fun for him. It was not so for Vahly. Arcturus, royal elf and alchemist, had become her dear friend. Her confidante. The face she longed to see first each sunrise.

  “What is it?” Arc smiled and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone.

  “I just realized I’m rather fond of you.”

  “Just now? I puzzled that out weeks ago.”

  Vahly nipped Arc’s neck. “Don’t forget who is alpha over here.”

  He laughed. “Never, my queen.”

  His eyes grew serious, the flirtatious gleam fleeing as he pressed one hand against his own heart. It was as if a chill raked him, and for a moment, he paled.

  Vahly gripped his surcoat, the cloth bunching. What was happening? “Arcturus?”

  He took one of her hands, opened her palm, and traced a symbol there. Magic billowed in smoky plumes of amethyst, lapis lazuli, citrine, and gold.

  “Take this spell, Vahly of the Earth. If you use it, it will die, but you will live.”

  The magic hovered over her palm like a whirlwind. “What is this?” Golden flecks dazzled her eyes with their intensity. Although the spell floated, it weighed down her hand like a sack of coin.

  Arc pressed her hands together between his own. The magical whirlwind disappeared between her palms. “If you’re in dire need, if your death shows its face, do the following, and know you will live.” He stepped back, put his palms together, then breathed into them. “You must focus on this moment and what the magic looked like to you before it faded. Then the spell will give you your life back.”

  “This is too much. Is this hurting you in some way? You went white as a moon moth when you gathered the energy to cast this. I’m not going to use a spell that can hurt you.”

  With a hand, he slapped his chest once. “You can see that I’m hale and healthy. No harm to me, my queen. It is a difficult spell. That is all.”