War's Ending

by A J Park

  Suddenly, Shalyrie heard shouts and the clash of weapons all around them. Kalleck was there, right against her, and she felt Farak’s body jerk convulsively. She would have reached out to Kalleck, but her arms were tied and Farak still held her immobile.

  Farak stumbled backward, still gripping her. She could hear his feet slipping on the uneven ground. She felt them both falling and tried to push away from him, but he was still clutching her. They slid and rolled down the rocks into the churning white water of the river.

  The cold was unbearable, and the racing current took them. She couldn’t see or hear anything but rushing water. Farak’s hands still gripped her for a little longer, but the current pulled him away. The water tumbled her until she didn’t know which way was up.

  Air. She needed air.

  She held her breath, trying to calm her body. Slow. Slow everything down, like when she dove in the ocean back home. Control. When the water calmed a little, she kicked for the surface and took in a lungful of air.

  Another patch of rapids threw her against the rocks and spun her in every direction. She managed to take another big breath before the water dragged her under again. She held her breath. Eventually, the water calmed again and she fought her way to the surface. She could no longer feel anything but the cold. Or maybe she couldn’t feel anything at all. Gradually, the noise of the crashing water began to fade until everything was silent.

  CHAPTER 18

  Kalleck, Son of Gallidack, First Guardian of the Yalkur

  Kalleck ran stumbling through the rocks in the dim light, the sounds of fighting fading in the distance. Night was coming fast, and cold rain began to fall—slow at first, but then more heavily. He followed the riverbank. How had he let Farak pull her into the river?

  Kalleck had desperately reached for her, but even after he had driven the knife into Farak’s body, Farak had refused to let her go. Curse him!

  How had he allowed this to happen at all?

  He had almost jumped in after her, but letting the river take him too would not help her. So he had raced along the river’s edge, now and then catching a glimpse of them, but the water flowed faster than he could run.

  Farther down, the water slowed and the current eddied. There was a good chance that he’d be able to catch up to them there.

  A few moments later, Kalleck found the place and he saw what he was hoping and dreading to see: two bodies floating, barely visible in black clothes. He ran toward them. In the faint light, he saw strands of golden hair. Ignoring Farak, he splashed through the shallow water to reach her.

  “No, no. Don’t be dead, don’t be dead,” he begged, pulling her toward the bank. She gave no signs of life. He still had Farak’s knife, and he used it to cut her hands free, still bound behind her. He pulled her up onto the bank.

  He put his ear to her lips, desperately listening for a breath.

  Nothing.

  “No, no!” he shouted. He pulled her limp body across his knee and struck her back hard. She didn’t respond at all. After a few more blows, some water ran out of her mouth. He laid her on her back and pulled off his mask, then put his lips to hers and breathed air into her lungs. “Breathe!” he yelled. He tried again, and again. “Breathe, breathe! Please!”

  Finally, Shalyrie turned her head to one side, coughed and took in a long breath. She was alive. He lifted her so she could breathe more easily. “Shalyrie! Can you hear me?”

  Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, but she didn’t open them. Still, she kept breathing, in and out, and he could see the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. She was alive.

  Intense relief coursed through him. She was alive! His throat tightened as he considered how close he’d come to losing her. But there wasn’t time to think too long about that. She was still in grave danger. He had to protect her.

  They were alone among the stones on the riverbank, and the rain was coming down harder than ever. It was getting colder fast. Many of the raindrops had already turned to slush. If he didn’t find some way to warm her, she would die. They needed shelter. He picked her up and carried her toward the rocky side of the canyon, looking for an overhanging rock or any sheltered place. He heard a shout behind him.

  “Sinnar, here!” he yelled back.

  Sinnar came running up. He stopped short, staring at Shalyrie’s limp body in his arms. “She’s dead? You took your mask off…”

  Kalleck had forgotten. “She wasn’t breathing. I had to help her. She’s breathing now, but we have to get her warm somehow.”

  Sinnar let out a breath in relief. “You pulled her out of the river?”

  Kalleck nodded.

  “And Farak?”

  “Back there,” Kalleck jerked his head.

  Sinnar ran in the direction he’d indicated, but he returned in only a moment with Kalleck’s mask. “He’s dead. You got him with the knife. He was probably already dead as he went into the river.”

  “Not dead enough!” Kalleck exclaimed. “He pulled her in with her hands tied. How could she swim like that?”

  Sinnar shrugged. “I’ll look for someplace dry,” he said, running off into the storm.

  Kalleck followed more slowly, carrying Shalyrie.

  Sinnar was soon back. “This way!”

  Kalleck trailed behind him through the rocks to a place where overhanging cliffs jutted out and a couple of fallen tree trunks leaned against them.

  “It’s not much, but it’s dry in there.”

  Sinnar helped Kalleck settle Shalyrie into the dry space under the rocks. “I have blankets in my saddlebag. Stay here, I’ll bring the others.”

  Kalleck knelt beside her, rubbing her arms and hands. They felt completely lifeless and as cold as ice. He sat down with his back to the wind and held her as close as he could. His body would warm her a little. “I’m sorry, Shalyrie, I’m sorry. It’s my fault this happened to you. I should have killed him sooner… before he did this.” He cradled her close. “If you die, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Her skin felt so cold against his.

  Sinnar came back, leading their horses. The rest of his men were with him, moving slowly because of the wounded. He dumped the saddlebags under the rock, out of the rain. “Ren! There’s tinder here. Will you start a fire?”

  “Yes, Guardian,” Ren said, staring dubiously at the rain changing to snow. Sinnar helped another of their men down from his horse and under the shelter. The man was holding his side and blood soaked through his clothes. Another man limped in.

  “How many hurt?” Kalleck asked.

  “Just us, First Guardian,” the limping man said, sitting down gratefully. “We look better than Farak’s men. They’re dead, except for one who got away. And there were a dozen at least, with only six of us.”

  “You did well,” Kalleck said.

  Sinnar came back. “It’s getting colder fast.” He looked at Shalyrie. “You have to get her dry and warm. She won’t live long like that. It will be a while before we can get a fire going. My men have gone to collect wood, but everything is wet. Here…” Sinnar tossed him a couple of blankets. “Those are all I have, except saddle blankets.”

  Kalleck unlaced her waterlogged boots and pulled them off. She didn’t respond at all. She might have already been dead.

  No. Keep living, Shalyrie. Keep breathing.

  Sinnar spread the blankets out on the rocky floor. “They’re not totally dry. Best I can do.” They placed Shalyrie on them, then removed her wet clothes. Kalleck put on his mask and pulled off his rain-soaked jacket and shirt and his wet boots, and he lay down beside her, pulling the edge of the blanket over them. He held her as close as he could.

  Be warm, Shalyrie. Live.

  Sinnar brought back a couple of the rough saddle blankets. They weren’t really big enough to cover them, but added some extra warmth. Sinnar took off his armor and wet shirt, a
nd lay down on the other side of Shalyrie.

  All three of them were tightly wrapped in the blankets to warm her. Yet it was still so cold and the snow was falling harder outside.

  How could they possibly give her enough warmth like this?

  It seemed like a long time before Ren came back with wood. The others were still out in the storm, gathering more. Kalleck watched him as he tried to start a fire. The first several attempts failed.

  “Come on, Ren,” Sinnar said. “Light the fire.”

  “Do you want to do this?” Ren asked through gritted teeth.

  “Just get it done.”

  Ren kept trying and, eventually, he got it started. He fed it carefully, stacking the damp wood so it could dry and burn in due course. It seemed to take forever to get it going, and even longer to make it big enough to feel the warmth.

  Kalleck watched gratefully as the men kept bringing back wood even though it was still snowing. They didn’t stop until there was a large pile. Sinnar got up and helped Kalleck move Shalyrie as close as possible to the fire. He took their wet clothes and held them near the fire to dry, then set their wet boots nearby.

  Shalyrie still felt like ice in Kalleck’s arms. He could detect no trace of warmth. Surely, the fire would help. He held her as close as he could. The fire grew gradually hotter—he could feel the warmth of it on his arms and hands.

  Sinnar helped the man with a wound on his side take off his armor and shirt. In the firelight, Sinnar examined the cut. “Why did you let them hit you?” he grumbled.

  The man looked exasperated. “There were three of them.”

  Sinnar washed the wound with sacred water from a flask and then wrapped it. “Try to rest. We’ll take you to Kern when we get back. I’m sure he’ll want to stitch this.”

  He repeated the process on the man with the wounded leg.

  When he was finished, Sinnar turned back to Kalleck. “And why did you let his men surprise you? If Ren hadn’t summoned us, I would never have gotten to you in time.”

  “But you did find us in time—barely. Thank you! I should have killed Farak the last time.”

  “I told you! I wanted to kill him before. Now one of his men got away.”

  “Then he’s somewhere out in the snow tonight too.”

  “Well, I hope he freezes,” Sinnar said. “Otherwise he’ll make more trouble.” He tossed a shirt back to Kalleck. “This is mostly dry. The rest you’ll have to wait for.” He spread the remaining wet clothes out on the rocks. Everything Shalyrie had been wearing was still soaked. Kalleck took the dry shirt and put it on her.

  He lay back down beside her and put his arms around her, holding her as close as he dared to the fire. She still felt lifeless—the skin of her cheek was still very cold against his chest and her hands were icy. He wrapped the blankets back around her. There was nothing more he could do but wait. He stared at the fire and at the snow falling thickly out beyond the edge of the rock overhang. The horses stood patiently with their heads down.

  The men had settled down around the fire as comfortably as possible. From time to time, they threw another piece of wood on. Sinnar took a seat near the edge. “I’ll watch now, Ren, if you want to sleep. I’ll wake you for a turn later.”

  Kalleck stayed still, watching the snowflakes fall. Would Shalyrie make it through the night? He should never have let this happen. He should have known that Farak wouldn’t give up. If Kalleck had been more careful, he could have prevented this disaster.

  Suddenly, Shalyrie drew in a deep breath and struggled in his arms. “Farak! Let me go!” she cried. “Where is Kalleck? Kalleck?”

  “I’m here,” he said. “I’m here. Farak is dead.”

  She didn’t seem to hear him. She appeared to be unconscious again. But at least if she had moved and spoken, she was alive. He could feel her body shivering, and that was a good sign. It was trying to warm itself. Maybe she would recover.

  “Please, Shalyrie, be all right,” he whispered.

  In her sleep, she huddled close to his warmth. For a moment, he let himself pretend that she had chosen to be there in his arms, that she pulled him close because she wanted him, not because she was dying of cold. She felt so soft in his arms, and it felt so right to hold her. He would protect her.

  No. He could pretend now, but when she woke up, she would know that he had failed to keep her safe. He had promised that Farak would never touch her again, and he’d broken his promise.

  I’m sorry, Shalyrie.

  CHAPTER 19

  Lady Shalyrie Almorin

  Shalyrie had never been so cold. Her body shook, desperately trying to warm itself. Warmth and comfort were only distant memories. It was cold and dark. So cold…

  She felt a touch of warmth against her cheek and pulled herself closer to it. Very gradually, the cold retreated. She held still, afraid that if she moved, the terrible cold would come back. Everything had been dark for a long time.

  Shalyrie opened her eyes. Nothing made sense. Even the dim light looked strange—orange firelight reflecting off rocks and tree branches. Her body ached all over. What had happened? The air she breathed was icy cold, but she was almost warm. She was lying against something warm.

  Abruptly, she realized it was another person, and she felt her heart race in panic. Only her fear of the cold kept her from jumping away. She could see a man’s side and shoulder. She was lying close against him, her cheek resting on the smooth skin of his chest—much too close to be appropriate. And he was much too undressed. He seemed to be asleep.

  What was she doing here? The last several hours were a blur. She didn’t remember anything, especially not deciding to go to bed with someone. She was Lady Shalyrie Almorin, and a strict standard of behavior had always been expected of her. She was niece to the King of Almoria, and she must always be appropriate. She wouldn’t just hop into bed with…

  She couldn’t see his face from there, but she could see the edge of a black mask. She had no idea who it belonged to. She felt the urge to get up and run again. So many times she had woken up with no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there. She still had a choice whose bed she shared, didn’t she?

  The air was so cold. Far colder than she’d ever imagined. It threatened to suck the life from her body. The raindrops had frozen into crisp bits of ice. Snow. It was snowing. She took in a long slow breath to calm herself. She needed to remember.

  The river… She’d fallen into the river. The memory came back in a rush. The cold had hurt until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. She’d held her breath for a long time as the current had tossed her in all directions. Then, darkness. Silence. She had thought she was dying.

  Before the river, she’d been with Kalleck. Farak’s men had taken them into the mountains. Farak had demanded that Kalleck kill her. How could they have gotten away? She hadn’t seen any way to escape. Farak was going to kill Kalleck if he didn’t obey. Kalleck had stood over her with a knife. She had never believed that Kalleck would kill her, even though Farak’s men had their weapons on him. One at his side and one on his throat. There was no way he could have escaped.

  She looked up at the man holding her and saw a cut on his neck—exactly where the spearpoint had been. She looked down at his hand and saw the familiar scar on the back of his index finger. Kalleck! It was Kalleck. Farak hadn’t killed him. He was alive and he was safe and he was keeping her warm in the only way he could. She suddenly felt weak with relief.

  He moved a little in his sleep and pulled her closer.

  If only everything had been different. If they belonged to the same people and there was no war. Maybe then, he would have been free to look at her, to see her as the person she was. Not an enemy, not a stranger.

  Our people could never accept her. Kalleck had said it to Farak. Maybe only because it was what Farak wanted to hear, but the words had cut at her heart. Farak had
already proved they were true. As much as she wanted to belong to his people, there was no way they would accept her.

  A few of her tears fell onto his skin. The ache of her heart and the ache of her body slowly dulled into sleep. If only he loved her. With his arms wrapped around her, she could pretend.

  It was brighter when she woke again. Snowflakes still fell thick and fast. The air was even colder, but she was nearly warm now. Kalleck’s arms were still around her.

  “Shalyrie,” he whispered. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “I… I don’t know.” Her voice sounded rough and her throat felt raw. Suddenly, she was coughing. When the spasm passed, she tried to catch her breath.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “I feel sore everywhere,” she said. “I’m afraid to try and move.”

  His voice sounded agonized. “You must hate me for the pain I have caused you. I promised to keep you safe and I failed.”

  She supposed it was true. Farak had attacked, and Kalleck had not been expecting it. But it wasn’t his fault. How had they escaped at all? Somehow, Farak’s men with their weapons ready had not managed to kill him.

  “How did you get away? They had their spears on you. I saw them.”

  “I was waiting,” he explained, “until Sinnar was ready to attack them from behind. You know I didn’t mean what I said? I was stalling for time. I would never have hurt you. I only agreed to kill you because I knew it was what Farak wanted. I don’t know how he believed me. I said I didn’t make the decision to kill lightly, but I meant to kill him.”

  “You stabbed him?”

  “Yes. That was my plan, if I could convince him to give me the knife. Please tell me you didn’t believe what I said. I’m sorry if the words hurt you. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  None of it? “I knew you wouldn’t kill me,” she said, “but I didn’t think there was any other way for you to escape. How did you?”