The Sah'niir

by Kim Wedlock

  For the fifth time in as many minutes under the hot afternoon sun, Anthis's jittery eye was snatched by the abrupt spinning of the duelist. "Petra," he said as calmly as he could, "you're making me nervous."

  Her attentive gaze didn't stray from the horizon. "We're too close to Kulokhar."

  "I'm sure we're not."

  "We are, and we're out in the open. We should have headed further north where there's cover and food."

  "Cover would be nice right about now..."

  A tight sigh came from the lead, short and abrupt enough to finally draw Petra's eye. "We are far enough from Kulokhar," Garon informed them for what must have been at least the tenth time, "pursuers will be seen long before they attack, there are no surveillance spells out here, and no one would expect us to be out in the open. We. Are. Safe."

  "Oh, that's just as well," she replied tartly, "since we have no horses to flee upon..."

  "It was necessary. Our hunter would follow the hoof prints over the bridge."

  "And we lost a day doubling back on ourselves from that detour."

  "Would you rather we kept our tail?"

  "Are we so sure we even lost it?"

  "There's been no sign of him."

  "There's never any sign."

  Garon spared her a brief, sharp and notably bitter sneer. "If you're dissatisfied, by all means, take the lead if you think you can do better."

  "What, and deny you your precious command?"

  "And yourself the chance to complain."

  "Oh I'm so sorry, I forgot. Your judgement is so perfect that you have no need of a second opinion."

  "I can value a second opinion, but all you seem to dispense are unconstructive criticisms and whining, huffing and groaning. It doesn't do much to inspire attention."

  "I don't whine, huff or groan."

  "Then you should pay more attention when you speak instead of acting upon the first impulse to grab you."

  Rathen sighed wearily while Petra returned the remark. He looked down with some relief as a small, muffled voice whispered from beside him.

  "Daddy, did something happen while I was away?"

  "Like what, little one?"

  "Well," she took another thoughtful bite from her apple, "Garon and Petra seem...well on the outside it looks like they hate each other. But they're always throwing little glances the other's way when they think no one's looking, so I don't really believe that."

  "No," he replied quietly, "neither do I. Nor, I think, does anyone else. Least of all themselves."

  "I see..." Slowly, she turned him quite a critical look, cheeks stuffed full with fruit. "You told me that I should tell someone when I like them. Why can't they do that? They're both so brave, they can't possibly be frightened..."

  "Matters of the heart...take a different kind of courage. It's a kind of courage everyone possesses, but...lies hidden. Deeper in some than in others."

  "Why?"

  "I really don't know."

  "...Were you brave with Kienza?"

  "Kienza never gave me the chance."

  "And Elle?"

  Rathen looked away with a sad smile while she wiped the dribble of juice from her chin. "I wasn't given a choice. The courage rose on its own."

  "Does that mean you love Elle more than Kienza?"

  His tongue froze, and he felt her judgemental eyes burning rapidly through to his soul. He stared straight ahead. "Eat your apple, little one."

  Another hour passed before there was a break in the monotony of the landscape, but the sight of the village didn't encourage any relief. The mood dropped even further when Garon announced that they were heading in.

  "What?"

  "The Wildlands are just a few days away. We need supplies."

  "So close to--"

  "We're too close to Kulokhar for Salus to waste time raising surveillance spells here. He'll spread out first."

  "I thought you said we weren't too close to Kulokhar."

  "Perspective, Petra."

  "What about the posters?" Anthis asked as she turned away hotly.

  "They won't be so close to home yet, either, and copies take time."

  "Even for the Arana?"

  "Even for the Arana. I suspect the posters are a deterrent more than anything else. He's relying on his spells and subordinates to find us. I know the general public - there are always a few in every town and city who will make up a report for some fraction of the reward, and Salus is no fool, he surely knows the same. I doubt the reports will even reach the Arana. Besides, I have a contact here."

  "And what do you intend to glean that Elle hasn't already told us?"

  "Anything. But you will all wait outside. It'll be safer if only one of us is seen at any one time."

  Rathen grunted. "You'll get no argument from me."

  "Are you sure we need to go back into the Wildlands?"

  Petra wasn't the only one to cast the historian a surprised look. "I'd have thought you of all people would be jumping up and down to get back in there with all those unexplored ruins."

  "And indeed I would be, if not for the bodiless shrieking and the feeling that eight thousand pairs of eyes were watching you as you sleep, working out whether it would be better to eat you toe- or head-first."

  "Head-first would be smoother. Less friction."

  "Thank you for that."

  "Yes, we need to go through the Wildlands," Garon confirmed while Anthis shivered in revulsion. "Salus is targeting the sites along the borders and if we want to reach them and try to stop him in his tracks, we need to cut through the Wildlands or waste two to three weeks bowing around it, in which time he could do much more. It's our only option."

  "And we have a duty to see to the magic there, too. Isolated or not, if it splinters it will be just as destructive as any other."

  "Yes, I understand that," Anthis grumbled reluctantly, pausing to shake a tangled matt of grass from his boot, "but what about the other side of the Wildlands? The ruins in the mountains are inaccessible, to say the least, if not lost altogether."

  "If they're lost then Salus can't get to them either, can he?"

  "Unfortunately, Aria, if anyone can find them, an elf can, and it seems he has them queueing up to help him." He shook his head while a grimace touched his lips. "And then he'll destroy them before anyone can learn anything. It'll all be lost for good."

  "Then we just need to get to them first - if an elf can find them, then--"

  "Aria, hush."

  She looked sadly up at her father.

  Anthis cast back a sympathetic smile. "Would that it could be so simple. But it's not blood knowledge. Your father doesn't know where they are any more than we do."

  Her shoulders dropped and heart-shaped lips pursed, but a sudden idea sparkled in her eyes before her disappointed pout could take root. "The Arkhamas!" She cried. "Maybe they could help us find them!"

  "I don't think there are any in the mountains."

  "Well, what about harpies?"

  "We have no way of contacting them. And anyway, they're not...they don't share one mind like the ditchlings do. They won't be very receptive so soon. Assuming there are even any out that far..."

  "The ditchlings could find some local harpies and have them pass on a message."

  Rathen frowned at the back of the inquisitor's head. "You're putting an awful lot of stock into their truce..."

  For nearly half an hour they waited uneasily behind a hill while Garon ventured into the village, and when he finally returned, two full bags slung over his shoulder, the harder-than-usual edge to his jaw flattened the mood into the dirt. They scrambled to their feet. He'd learned something.

  "What is it?" Rathen asked despite himself as the inquisitor slipped smoothly down the bank to join them, but his misgivings grew when he saw the urgency in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. "What is it? Were you recognised?"

  He shook his head, but their relief was fleeting. "Salus," he said gravely. "He's moved again. Fendale and somewhere east of F
erna, I suspect along the Olusan Mountains."

  The air turned to lead. "When?"

  "Two days ago."

  "And?"

  "Two days ago. The elf must be teleporting him around. The quakes happened close together."

  "So much for that distraction. There's no way we're going to get to the mountains in time."

  "No, I believe Doana's holding his attention. If it wasn't, he'd have done more."

  "I doubt that. We might not know what he's capable of but something like that has to take its toll. Right, Rathen?"

  He turned Anthis a blank look. "You would think."

  "Doana is still an issue," Garon assured them. "There's been an attack on White Heath."

  Another bout of dread struck them still. Petra was the first to shift in discomfort. "Doana's actually made a move?"

  "No. Salus has."

  She blinked.

  "Framing, provoking, encouraging fear and decisive action." Rathen groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. For a long moment they were lost in their concerns, and one by one came to look patiently between the inquisitor and the mage for a solution. They were the last to return, and both with the same look of resignation. "Was there anything else?" Rathen asked rather than acknowledge the others' expectation, and Garon seemed to be of a similar mind, though probably not for the same choking pressure that Rathen felt clawing in around him.

  "Ivaea and Kasire's conflict. They're saying Ivaea's buckling, that Kasire is pushing back."

  Eyila looked at him carefully. "But you don't believe it?"

  "No. Salus would be redirecting his efforts towards them if that was the case."

  "How do you know he isn't?" She pressed. "If he's being teleported around to meddle here and there then he probably doesn't need to free up much time in his day..."

  "I know because he's fierce. Given everything going on right now, he's on high alert and under great pressure. If Ivaea really was losing and Kasire pushing this far south, we wouldn't be hearing about it at all. He would be doing all he could to tip the balance and turn it away."

  "And yet Doana--"

  "Doana was underestimated and snuck in; as for Skilan, the animosity is so great that even deer expected their attack. And I suspect the Arana's efforts against Skilan were intentionally lax to begin with. Some people won't learn until things are beaten into them, King Jalund among them. And perhaps King Thunan..." He looked back up the hill. The others followed his gaze. He retrieved his belongings and slung them over his shoulder with the rest of his burden. "We shouldn't stay."

  "Were there posters?" Anthis asked as Petra all but wrestled one of the bags from the laden inquisitor, who of course displayed no thanks.

  "No, but we shouldn't take any more chances than we need to. And, it seems, we can't afford to linger." He turned away, rolling his shoulder beneath his load, and led the way back out into the fields with the village pinned directly behind them.

  Aside from a brief and blustery stop-over in Stonton, the landscape remained unchanged for two days. But, as evening crept in on that second day, a daunting black mass of leaves finally began to form in the distance, sprawling ahead further than any eye could see. Within an hour they found themselves walking within the confines of the trees at the edge of the Wildlands, and while they relished the concealment, anxiety stifled their lungs. They were finally hidden - but so was everything else.

  While the others finished eating, Aria stood upon a rock and peered off into the darkness from their meagre camp within the trees, her gaze sharp and vigilant - not so much for intruders, though, as for wildlife. And while the eventual arrival wasn't one she'd been watching for, it was no less pleasing.

  "Did you find the horses?!" She yelled suddenly, startling everyone else before Kienza had even reached the edge of the light. But the forest-clad woman was already beaming, and pounced forwards to seize her as though catching a wild rabbit. Aria giggled ecstatically, easing the alarm.

  "Yes," the sorceress chuckled, "I did. And it was very clever to speed them away and wade down through the river." She looked up towards the others as Aria giggled in her tickling grasp, begging her half-heartedly to stop. "It worked, of course. You lost your tail." Finally, she released the child and embraced Rathen for a long moment before greeting the others similarly, albeit without quite the same affection. "I must say, I am very impressed," she said, turning back towards her lover. "Your efforts with the harpies and the ditchlings - very democratic indeed. I admit, I'm surprised."

  "I'm not useless," he said defensively, though he smiled all the same.

  "No, but you're not a diplomat."

  "That much is true," Anthis said, much to Rathen's irritation. "He lost his temper a few times. Eyila was the one to secure the truce."

  "And she did the best job any could have done. It's uneasy, but the fact that it's holding at all is remarkable. Whatever you said to them seems to have hit them deep." She smiled warmly at the bronze-skinned girl, who blushed beneath the direct and approving gaze. "Well done. Both of you." Then she looked back to Rathen and Anthis. "But I suppose the greater congratulations comes for the Zi'veyn. It actually works."

  "Technically, but it's--"

  "Yes, we'll get to that." She waved his words away. "First, however, I have a few things to tell you - but before all of that," she looked pointedly down at Aria, "you've not shown anyone yet, have you?"

  They frowned in confusion, but while they missed the details of the matter, the eight year-old hung her head and her voice reduced to a mumble. "No, but he doesn't need it, so it doesn't matter."

  "I think it matters very much. And I'm sure everyone would like to see it either way."

  But she didn't reply. The ground held her attention. Rathen watched her stare at the dirt, wondering what he was missing, but when the pieces tumbled into place, a guilt powerful enough to knock his breath crashed down upon his shoulders. He knelt down beside her and took her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Aria. I was so happy you were back that I forgot all about it. But it is important. Please show us."

  Petra caught on as Aria's eyes travelled past them towards the bags piled on the far side of the camp. She stepped away to collect the child's while the others continued to frown, and smiled just as regretfully as she handed it over. "I'd certainly like to see it."

  "As would I," Eyila said, though she couldn't have known what they were talking about. But that detail didn't seem to trouble Aria who, with an excited smile, opened the bag and dug her hand inside. But she hesitated before pulling it back out. Her big eyes dulled beneath a shy furrow.

  Rathen placed his hand upon her shoulder. She looked up into his dark eyes, meeting him with shame, but at the sight of his encouraging smile, she took a breath and at last withdrew her work. A small sphere of light bloomed above them by the sorceress's hand, outshining the weak fire, and revealed the child's carving in its entirety.

  Cut from rich, dark elm wood and a hand's length in height, was a vague, almost spectral shape of a woman. She was beautiful, a notion certain despite the lack of detail, with a narrow waist, small ankles, delicate shoulders and long, flowing hair. The figure's hands were pressed together at her chest, and her unseen but surely dainty feet stood within a cup formed of sepal leaves from which five smooth tendrils rose, spiralling tidily to encase her and meet at the top in a point, like a young rose bud in filigree. The finish of the wood was smooth and precise, free of any accidental cuts or natural knots; the piece was, in essence, flawless.

  "Aria," Petra breathed, reaching out to gingerly touch the wood, which was even smoother than it looked, and trace her fingers behind the impossibly whittled spiral, "how in the world did you do this?"

  "With unimaginable difficulty." Rathen shook his head in awe, but beneath his admiration an even greater guilt was swelling for the simple fact that she had been correct. The piece was beautiful, unique, skilfully crafted, even from such hard wood - truly, it was her masterpiece...but he didn't need it
. After all the work, all the time she had poured into it, having made it on his order, to complete the task he had set her as he sent her away, working to the very best of her ability to prove, no doubt, that she was useful...and he didn't need it.

  His eyes dragged back to her, noticing at last that hers had not once strayed from him, but despite his shame, he found himself smiling proudly. And he knew why. No, he didn't need it - not for what it had been intended for. But in that moment it had become something else - a symbol of her confidence. He had never questioned her belief in him, she had always been the first to declare with whole-hearted conviction that he could do something, no matter how ridiculous it was, but here she had put that trust into form, and by doing so illustrated her own dedication to the crisis. Every one of them were turning their expertise towards doing whatever they could to bring the situation to a close, and in that moment, he understood how deep that truly went. Magic, academia, protection and cunning - and heart. Where he and the others worried about the outcome, Aria had absolute faith that they would succeed. And that counted at least as much as everything else.

  He pulled her into a tight hug. "Well done, Aria. Well done."

  She beamed and hugged him back. "It's not that good," she giggled modestly. "But I did my best."

  "Who is the lady?" Eyila asked, kneeling down and looking more closely at the carving, her eyes curiously sharp with one single, mysterious thought behind them.

  "She's...no one in particular, I think," she shrugged as her father let her go and had a closer look himself. "Just..."

  "The embodiment of nature."

  Aria nodded at her father's conclusion.

  "Feira?" Anthis asked.

  "Vastal?" Petra suggested.

  "Aya'u?" Eyila breathed.

  Kienza smiled to herself while Aria grinned bashfully. "I don't know. Maybe all of them."