by A J Park
He held a knife out to her, and she took it in her good hand and walked toward the edge of the water. She saw no one else along the beach. The waves ran forward, as if to greet her. She’d missed the ocean.
The water was cold as she waded in—not nearly as pleasant as the seas around her island home—but she had to do this. They had come all this way to save Kalleck. She went out past where the small waves were breaking.
The sea was calm and clear. The morning was getting brighter. Good. She would need the light. She dunked in up to her neck and the saltwater stung her partially-healed wounds for a moment, but then it began to ease.
Just like a morning swim back home.
She dove beneath the surface of the waves. Fireweed. Long, thin red leaves. She’d seen it every day back home, but she’d never needed it before.
She swam awkwardly with her left arm held close against her body. She came up for air and floated with the gentle motion of the waves. She swam a little farther along. Maybe a different spot. She dove again and again.
Please! There had to be some here. Didn’t it grow everywhere in the ocean?
After several unsuccessful tries, the sun came up and she could see better through the water. And finally she spotted a patch of red, but she would have to dive deeper.
She breathed deeply for a few moments, taking in as much air as she could, then she dove down, moving slowly and steadily through the water. Holding her injured arm close to her body, she tried to cut the plant using only her good hand. She was running out of air, and she turned and kicked upward. Her head broke the surface and she floated, catching her breath.
There was no way around it. There was no one else to help. No one who could do this. She was going to have to use both arms to get to the bottom more quickly and cut the plant. Even if she knew the words needed to ask one of the horsemen for help, it took practice to dive. She’d spent years exploring the reef at home.
No one else.
If Kalleck was to have any chance at life, she had to do it. Breathing in and out, long and slow, she prepared to dive. This time she took the knife in her left hand. After a last deep breath, she swam down. Her eyes were used to the seawater and she could see it: slender red leaves, swaying gently with the current.
She reached the plant and grabbed a big handful with her good hand. It was time to use her arm. It almost made her cry out and lose her air, it hurt so much to stretch her arm out.
Cut the leaves. Cut the leaves. She applied pressure to cut the tough stems, and the pain was sickening. Hold on. She was almost through. The last stems separated. She had it! Concentrate. Swim slowly. Stay in control. Back up.
She rose to the surface gasping. The pain was still intense. She couldn’t move her arm anymore, but the fireweed was still in her hand. She kicked hard toward the beach and stumbled through the waves, staggering onto the sand.
For a moment, all she did was breathe. Her other hand was empty now. Somewhere, she’d dropped the knife. Slowly, the pain eased a little. She looked along the beach for Sinnar. He and the others stood out sharply against the pale sand, but they weren’t alone. A whole group of Almorian soldiers had surrounded them and they were fighting. A few Almorians were already on the ground.
Why did they always have to start a fight?
They were Galenor’s men and she couldn’t trust them. A wave of homesickness came over her. They were her people. She wanted to go back to them. Surely, they would help her? She could get on a ship and go home. She could find Uncle Telthan.
But her mind couldn’t ignore the image of the assassin. His blade had cut her. He was trying to pierce her heart. If it hadn’t been for Kalleck…
Kalleck.
They had to go. If they saw her, they would attack. They wouldn’t see her—they would see her black nightgown and think she was one of the horsemen. But they hadn’t seen her yet. She hurried across the sand and slipped into the rocks, heading for where they had left the horses. Sinnar would have seen her. Maybe some of the Almorians had too.
She came to the horses and found one of Sinnar’s men still with them.
Another of the horsemen came running through the rocks and leapt into his saddle. Sinnar and the last Yalkur were right behind. She could hear the Almorians coming. The man on the horse reached down and Shalyrie held up her arm, her hand still clutching the fireweed. He grabbed her and pulled her up onto the horse. And then they were running.
Shalyrie heard arrows hiss past them. No. No more arrows. Ever. The Almorians pursued and shot at them, but the horses were swift and soon were out of range. They ran on for a while until they were safely away and hidden among the first of the hills. Then they slowed and stopped, and the rider lowered her off the horse.
She sank to the ground, shaking. How had the soldiers found them? They’d only barely gotten away. The pain was still sharp, and she was so cold.
She saw Sinnar get off his horse. He took a piece of cloth from his saddlebag and knelt beside her. Gently, he held the cloth against the back of her shoulder. What was he doing? When he took it away for a moment, she reached her hand back and her fingers came away bloody. It was bleeding again. He was trying to stop it. He spoke to her. She didn’t understand him, but his voice sounded sympathetic.
Shalyrie tried to catch her breath. Rest. Rest. That was what she needed, but they had to go on. Those soldiers were probably still following them, and they had to get the fireweed back before it was too late for Kalleck.
They had to go on.
Sinnar held the cloth against her shoulder for a few more moments, and then he brought an open bag and pointed to the fireweed. It was still clutched in her hand. She opened her fingers one by one and dropped the leaves into the bag. He brought her the dry clothes she had taken off before she entered the water.
“Ride,” he said. But the word was no longer a command. Now he sounded apologetic. She pulled the pants on underneath the wet night dress and yanked the jacket over her head. She didn’t even try to get her left arm through the sleeve—it hurt too badly to move it. She pulled the wet night dress up through the neck of her jacket. Now she was more or less dry.
Sinnar helped her onto the horse and wrapped the warm cloak around her. “Thank you,” she said. He looked at her and his eyes didn’t look angry anymore. He got on the horse behind her and they rode away.
Utter exhaustion pulled her toward sleep, but pain pulled her back. Her shoulder hurt with every jolting stride, and she was so saddle sore that she could hardly stand it. But they had to go on.
CHAPTER 11
Hannal, Second Guardian of the Yalkur
Hannal found himself in the council room. His anxious pacing had him wandering the building. He didn’t want to be far from Kalleck’s room, in case there was news.
What would happen to Kalleck? He needed to know that the First Guardian would recover. But where was Sinnar and how much longer would it be before he returned?
Breaking through his worried thoughts, he saw Kern coming slowly down the stairs. The old man came and put a hand on Hannal’s shoulder.
“Tell me,” Hannal said.
“It’s spreading,” Kern said heavily. “First, he couldn’t move his legs, then his arms and his body. He can’t breathe. Gather the Council. I’m afraid he won’t make it through the night.”
Sick dread settled into Hannal’s stomach. “Thank you, Kern. Please keep me informed. I will come up later, after I have met with the Council.”
Hannal went to the guard at the door. “Please summon the Clan Chiefs. The Council will meet at once.”
It didn’t take long for the Council to gather, at least those who could. There were four of the five Clan Chiefs, and only one of the three Guardians. High Priestess Allemi refused to leave Kalleck’s side. She sent a message. “If the worst should happen, I will support you, Hannal.”
Ammur, Chief of the
Iron Clan, arrived first. He was a big man, heavily muscled from his work at the forges. He was just ahead of the Chiefs of the Stone, Farmer and Tanner Clans. Everyone took their places at the table and looked at Hannal, their faces grave.
“First Guardian Kalleck is seriously ill,” Hannal said. “Healer Kern fears that he won’t last through the night. We can’t afford to have confusion and dissent when our people are already in such danger. Sinnar has gone in search of a cure, but we have no way of knowing if he will succeed. Kalleck is almost out of time. Do the clans have anyone they would support as First Guardian if he dies?”
“We choose you,” Ammur said in his deep voice. “There is no one else with enough support, except perhaps Sinnar. But we cannot recommend him. There is no one more skilled in battle, but sometimes he acts rashly. We must have someone with a cool head to make the decisions for all the people. It has to be you, Hannal.”
Hannal bowed his head. “I can’t be First Guardian. No one would follow me. I never meant to lead anyone—”
“But you do lead,” Ammur said. “The clans have all seen what you’ve done these last years. You’ve gained the respect of the clans and the Council. You make decisions based on the needs of all our people, not on your own emotions. We need you.” He looked around at the others. “What does the rest of the Council say?”
After some discussion, they all agreed.
Hannal felt as if he were drowning. He didn’t want this. He wouldn’t choose it. How could they ask him to do this? But they had. And there was no one else. If Kalleck died, Hannal would be appointed First Guardian.
Just then a group of men burst into the council room, led by the priest Farak. He was still dressed in his ceremonial robe and headdress. They all wore their masks. “We have come before the Council to offer our support in this crisis,” Farak said.
“We thank you for your support,” Hannal said. “You may remove your masks. It is not customary to enter the Council with your faces covered.”
“But there are sea-folk in the city now. We had to be sure there would not be any here.”
“This is the Council,” Hannal said.
“And where is the First Guardian? All through the city, the people are saying that he is dying. And here is the whole Council met without him. So it is true.”
“We don’t know what will happen,” Hannal said, “but it’s true he is ill.”
“These are very difficult times for the Yalkur,” Farak said. “We have pledged ourselves to guard the Sacred Waters. Everything we believe in and care for is in danger. But instead of defending us, our First Guardian is making friends with the sea-folk. He will give away our secrets to his own advantage. We cannot allow this! Perhaps this illness is a sign that he is not meant to lead us.”
When he had finished, everyone abruptly began arguing, and nothing could be heard but a confusion of voices. Finally, Hannal raised his hand and everyone quieted. “Farak, our First Guardian’s illness is the result of a wound in battle. He put himself in danger to protect our people. He has done everything for the Yalkur. Do not suggest that this is a sign that he should not be leading us.”
“But it’s outrageous! He kept one of them here, unbound, as if she were an honored guest instead of an enemy. It is disgusting that our leader should speak with them, touch them, and befriend them. He cannot remain First Guardian when he is friends with the sea-folk!”
“Your concern has been heard,” Hannal said, coldly. “But the Council agrees with Guardian Kalleck. Everything he has done is for the benefit of our people.”
Farak looked around the table at the council members. “You can’t be serious! He is the worst leader our people have ever had. He will destroy us! Council members, I offer you another option. Support me as First Guardian. We will eliminate the sea-folk in our city, as should already have been done. We will keep our people pure from their influence.”
“Kalleck is trying to make peace with them!” Ammur exclaimed. “What would be your plan? To throw us into a war we are not likely to win?”
The others added their assent. With so many people voicing their opinions, it was impossible to hear anyone.
“Quiet!” Hannal yelled. He rarely raised his voice. More than rarely. This could have been the first time. They all closed their mouths and looked at him. He turned to Farak. “You are within our laws to offer yourself as a candidate for First Guardian, but you cannot proceed without the support of at least one Clan Chief.”
Farak looked around the table. His eyes fell on Dalron the Chief of the Farmers, “Surely you must object to Kalleck’s diplomacy after the brutal attack on your village.”
The farmer looked back at him. “We object to what happened, of course, but we don’t want war with them. We just want them to leave us alone. I know that if they invade our lands we will have to defend ourselves, but we support Guardian Kalleck. He has done all he could, and we approve of his leadership. I’m sorry, Farak, but if we are forced to choose a new leader, we will choose Hannal as First Guardian.”
Farak looked around the table at each clan chief in turn. None of them gave him any sign of support. He turned back to Hannal. “What did you do to force them all to support you?”
“I didn’t force them,” Hannal said firmly. “No one here has that power. You tried, Farak, but you know the law. You cannot proceed without the support of at least one clan chief. The only one who hasn’t refused you is Sinnar. Do you plan to seek his support as Chief of the Hunter Clan?”
Farak suddenly looked a little sick.
“I’m sorry,” Hannal said. “You know the law. The Council supports Kalleck. If you plan to remain Yalkur, you will obey the Council. You may depart now.”
Farak looked furious. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again and turned on his heel and departed. His men followed him.
A silence fell over the room. Hannal took a deep breath.
“He won’t give up so easily,” Ammur said.
“No,” Hannal said, “but we can all agree that it would be disastrous if he gained that kind of power.”
Everyone around the table nodded and made murmurs of agreement.
He looked slowly around at each of them. “I do not want to be First Guardian,” he said. “I want to be very clear about that. But I will do it. We are the Council. We are sworn to do what’s best for our people. They trust us to do this, and we have to do the best we can. I will send word when anything… happens with Kalleck.”
They nodded slowly.
Hannal left them and went back to his own rooms. Everything seemed a blur. He’d had such a bad feeling about Kalleck going out to return the girl, and he’d tried to stop him. If he’d gone in Kalleck’s place, would it instead be him lying there, struggling to breathe? He’d only agreed to come to the city in the first place to help Kalleck. That was the only reason he was Second Guardian. Now what?
Maybe Sinnar would find something, some miracle that would get them out of this. But there had been no word, and maybe there never really had been any hope of finding a cure.
Hannal went quietly through the door. It was late, and his family would all be in bed. He closed the door silently behind him. Kallia sat in a chair by the fire. She had dozed off, sitting there waiting for him. The firelight lit her beautiful face. What would she say when he told her? She wouldn’t like it. She’d never wanted to come here.
Wild thoughts raced through his mind. He wouldn’t do it. He would take his family and run. They would be safe. It was insane to think all the people would follow him. He took a deep breath and shook his head. But, no. It wasn’t just about his family. It was about all their people. What kind of life would they have out there, knowing that he had abandoned his responsibility? He would hate himself if he ran.
He knelt beside Kallia and kissed her. She answered his kiss without opening her eyes. She ran her fingers through his ha
ir and pulled him closer. “You should have gone to bed,” he whispered.
“I know,” she murmured. “I wanted to know what happened. How is Kalleck?”
“Not good,” he admitted. “Kern is afraid he won’t make it until morning.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered, putting her arms around his neck. “And did you meet with the Council? Who do they…?” She drew back and looked hard at him.
He stared back at her. He didn’t want to say it. He watched her face as realization slowly grew.
“No. No! They can’t ask you to do this. We never agreed to it. We only did it to help Kalleck. There must be someone else… One of the clan leaders.”
“There’s no one else, Kallia. You know they can’t choose Sinnar.”
She held him, and he felt her tears on his face. He wiped her tears away with his fingers and kissed her.
“I’m going back there to stay until… we know more,” he said.
“Don’t go yet,” she whispered in his ear, pulling him closer. “Not yet.”
CHAPTER 12
Lady Shalyrie Almorin
Exhausted from the long ordeal, Shalyrie only vaguely noticed that they had stopped moving. She felt the ground beneath her. They were back at the place where they had switched horses before. Sinnar helped her sit up and gave her water. This night seemed colder than the last, and she was shivering constantly. The pain in her shoulder was bad, but the pain in her legs from sitting on the horse too long was starting to rival it. Anything would be better than getting back on the horse.
“Ride,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. No! I can’t do it. We have to stop. I can’t do it anymore. But Kalleck… Kalleck…”
She didn’t object as Sinnar took his cloak, wrapped it around her, and picked her up in his arms. There was more pain, more riding and more cold night air. She couldn’t rest or really sleep, but she couldn’t stay conscious either. She had lost all track of time. She had no idea where they were—she only knew that it hurt, and that they couldn’t stop.
