by Lexy Wolfe
“Avarian,” she whispered, clinging to him. “My beloved.”
The sky warmed with the sunrise though the high walls of the caldera kept the valley cooler than the rest of the desert. Mureln strolled up to join Terrence on the shore of the lake. He remained silent for several long minutes, waiting for the younger man to speak.
“I had always wanted to know what happened to the Trisari. Nearly every mage wonders at some point.” Terrence closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. “Now I understand why some things are better left unknown. I just…I don’t know what to think.” He looked at the eternal braid. “I could dimly comprehend the conflicts between the nations. It is easy for a fight to escalate to something…unreasonable.”
“Got into a few scuffles in your youth, eh?”
Bitterness tinged Terrence’s laugh. “Being a lowborn at the Magus Academy is challenging. I don’t know how Ash found me, but I’m grateful he had. I very nearly left before he had.” He heaved a sigh. “I loved our great mother. I used to imagine that the Trisari had gone to go help others more in need than us. Not…”
“Not that they had committed despicable acts against those they were bound to watch over?” Mureln put a hand on Terrence’s shoulder when he flinched and looked away. “They are not a reflection of you.”
“Aren’t they? We all look at people as collectives. The Desanti embody that in their language. They have no plural forms for anything that represents people or really any living thing.” He threw his hands out to his side. “How am I supposed to be a bridge between the warriors and the mages when I can’t even find any shred of respect for those I once admired? I can’t defend their actions. I can’t excuse them! I certainly can’t condone them.”
Mureln crossed his arms, looking out into the distance in thought. After several long minutes, he said, “I want to see the island. Let’s go.”
The abrupt change in topic jarred Terrence out of his inner turmoil. “What? Why?”
“Why not?” the bard countered with a smile. He swept his arm toward it with a grand gesture. “Doesn’t it make you curious sitting out there?”
“I, well, yes, I suppose a little, but—”
“But nothing!” He began taking his clothing off, deftly folding it to rest on a low rock. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little water, Forentan.”
Pride pricked, Terrence snapped, “Of course I’m not afraid.” The two waded out until the bottom dropped away from their feet, forcing them to begin swimming. A little more than halfway between the island and the shore, Terrence had to focus on each stroke and kick, every motion to breathe. When the first tickle of fear that he wasn’t going to make it made his heart beat faster, he felt a strong current that pushed him toward the island.
As the two found purchase on the bottom, Mureln lent Terrence a shoulder as he staggered to the shore. The ground was not sandy, but enough dirt had built up to allow a thick grass to grow, which is where the young mage lowered himself in a half-collapse. Hands behind him to prop himself up, he struggled to get his breath to speak. “I have…no idea why…I thought I could make it…on my own.”
Mureln sat down by him, barely winded. “Because sometimes, in the heat of the moment, when we aren’t thinking clearly, some things don’t seem like a bad idea until it’s too late.”
The young man squinted at his companion. “Is that why you wanted to come out here? To prove a point?”
The Vodani threw his head back and laughed. “No, Terrence. I really want to look around this island. I also wanted to feel water around me again because this desert makes my skin crawl.” He leaned closer. “But don’t let the Desanti hear how I feel about their home. They’ll get all ruffled and insulted even if they understand.” Terrence managed a wan smile. “And I thought a bit of physical exertion would get you out of your head space, so to speak.”
The younger man sat forward, resting his forearms on his upraised knees, head bowed. “I don’t know why finding out the truth about the Trisari bothered me so much. It isn’t like they have been around.”
“The reality of anything rarely resembles our idealizations. Sometimes, it is better if you were expecting the worst. But most of the time, we will be let down by whatever we put on a pedestal. I suspect your people either had no idea why the Trisari left and made up stories to answer the unanswerable. Or they told themselves lies and slowly forgot they were banished, much less why they had been.”
“Or it is a closely guarded secret among the highborn. That is always possible.” Mureln grunted his agreement. The mage dragged himself to his feet, weaving a moment before steadying himself. He looked at the shore across the lake. “Gods, I have no idea how I’m going to make it back.”
Mureln waved a dismissive hand as he turned toward the thick greenery. “Don’t worry. We’ll just walk back.”
“Walk?” Terrence hurried to catch up. “We can’t just walk on water!”
The bard turned back with a grin. “Lad. We are Guardians of Time! Of course we can walk on water.” Terrence opened his mouth, then shut it again, feeling his face warm. “Don’t feel bad you didn’t think of it. I didn’t either. I should have suggested it for you coming out here in the first place.”
“No, that’s all right. Except for a moment thinking I was going to drown, the swim was wonderful.” He quirked a wry grin. “And it did get me to stop running circles in my head. Thank you.” Mureln’s broad smile reflected his approval and pleasure.
Garst raised his head when Storm, Ash and Izkynder approached the rust-colored pillar. Storm hesitated several heartbeats before taking Izkynder’s hand. She and Ash looked up to see Quinn seated across from them, mirroring their postures. She exhaled, closing her eyes. “I am sorry I upset you, Quinn.”
I am not upset. After Izkynder here gave me the connection to the na’Zhekali bayuli-volsha, I could tell seeing me woke Zhekali’s memories. He looked at Ash. And Avarian’s. When I asked you if I could call you…His eyes closed, expression filled with shame. I was selfish. I wanted my life back. My family.
“Zhekali…wants that to. All the time she should have had with you stolen away by someone. Something.” She shook her head. “She was horrified to learn you have been imprisoned here all this time. All alone.”
Quinn shrugged one shoulder. It has not been all bad. Most of the time, I am usually asleep. Garst and his ancestors have kept me company when I do wake up. And the bayuli-volsha was with me until…a few decades ago. He looked away. You used to always come here. Almost all your incarnations. The spirits who would speak with me told me you would find all of us. But you could never see us. Or hear us. Or touch us.
“But she protected you.” Ash smiled at Storm. “She nearly broke my arm to keep me from touching one of your siblings when I was still an ignorant defiler.”
That was Uzima. The spirits told me she was sad because she could tell who you were. Amused because it reminded her of some of your other ‘discussions.’
“How could you tell who we were? We didn’t know until our testing for our Guardian colors.” Storm frowned, squinting at Quinn. “You are not dead.”
He laughed. No, we are not dead. His laughter died on a sigh. Nor are we alive. He looked at her. But you always had the same…feel. It was not difficult to tell. And you were the only one who came here. I think almost every time, you were Thandar’s Githalin. He frowned at the pang of pain he sensed from her. Storm?
“Her bond to Thandar was disrupted when I healed her soul.” Ash watched Izkynder press Storm’s hand against his cheek. “She is supposed to return to the Rumblelands, but she is being stubborn.”
The Rumblelands? Why? He isn’t there.
Storm looked up, eyes wide. “He isn’t? Where is he?”
Quinn looked to the side, listening to someone unseen. He frowned, shoulders sagging in resignation. I am sorry. The spirits cannot say specifically, just that he is in the mortal realm, not the divine one. Those who speak with me have been gone too long fro
m the physical world and cannot name or describe the place so you could find it. The world looks different here than when seen from the other side of the dreamscape.
Izkynder pursed his lips briefly. “Why don’t the spirits want to be reborn?” Storm and Ash looked at the boy in confusion. Quinn’s expression was one of surprise. “Brother and Sister said they were waiting and waiting because they wanted special parents but others don’t come back because of other reasons.”
Brother and Sister? Quinn asked, watching Storm look down at herself, her hand over her abdomen. His eyes widened. How didn’t I notice? Jacinth and Liam will be so happy to know they won’t be the only ones anymore.
“Zhekali had twins?” Storm forced her alarm and confusion down. “I did not remember…”
Of course not. You aren’t Zhekali. If you were, you’d remember everything. Mama said she couldn’t remember everything, and she seemed very sad that she would someday.
“Because she would lose her family.” Quinn’s brow furrowed in confusion, watching as she struggled getting to her feet. “I will make sure everyone is ready to leave when you both return. It is better to traverse the Seven Spires when there is only enough light to see their tops.” She paused, speaking over her shoulder. “If it helps you, Quinn, you may call me Mama.”
“Aunt Storm is feeling a lot of things,” Izkynder whispered, hugging Ash’s arm. “I don’t know how to help her.”
“It’s okay, Izkynder. You don’t have to fix everything. Sometimes, we can’t.” He looked at Quinn, holding his palm out to him. The ghostly young man placed his against Ash’s, his expression sad. “Can you tell me how you and the others did this? Hold life to the land?”
I cannot tell you the specifics. It happened so fast. Etienne was the one who figured out what was happening and what would happen if we didn’t stop the out-of-control spell. Uzima’s suggestion sparked an idea and we just followed along. He was the oldest and had mastered both northern and southern magics. The rest of us…weren’t as practiced. Quinn looked away. I am sorry I am not more help.
“Your help has been more than adequate, Quinn. It is more information than we had before we found you.” He shifted his hand, closing it as though holding the other’s hand. “Thank you. Rest now. We will do everything we can to free you and your siblings.”
Thank you, Ash.
“No,” the mage stated, getting to his feet, holding Izkynder’s hand firmly. “Call me Papa. I may not be Avarian, but it fills a hole that I have had ever since I can remember.”
Thank you. Papa. The ghostly form faded back into the pillar.
Ash leaned down to pick the boy up, settling him on his hip. “Come on, Izkynder. Let’s get back to the others before Aunt Storm decides to leave without us.” The man had not taken more than two steps when something struck him in the back. He looked skywards for patience when Chitta flapped and shrilled in challenge from Izkynder’s shoulder and a scolding chittering came from his other side as something crawled up his back to his shoulder.
“So.” He spoke Desanti in droll tones as he looked at the iridescent green being scowling at him. “Nim, right?” The pixie nodded. “You are coming with us, hm?” It nodded again. “You better behave. Storm will have the drizar eat you if you get to be a bother.” Izkynder giggled as Nim crawled inside Ash’s shirt and the man suddenly tried to get him out. “Ow! Hey, now. Pockets! Not against my skin. You’ve got sharp little nails.”
After several more weeks of travel, the group made camp by a small oasis near the border of the Blighted Lands. Skyfire offered his hand to Storm after the drizar lowered himself to the ground so she could dismount with less effort. The beast nuzzled her, making worried sounds. “I am fine,” she reassured, stroking his muzzle. “You are such a worrier.”
“He has reason to worry.” He touched the lines on her face that bespoke her exhaustion. “You are tired, th’yala,” he argued. He put his arm around her shoulders, hand covering her swollen abdomen. “Come. I know lying flat is not comfortable. I will hold you while you sleep. Ash can tend to the tribe.” He traded a brief, worried look with Lyra when the woman did not even offer a token argument at the suggestion. The archer perched on the rock Skyfire sat against, her bow resting in her lap with an arrow nocked and ready to be drawn. Storm nestled against Skyfire’s side, closing her eyes.
Ash watched the three, the concern he hid from his expression seeping from his control over the bayuli-volsha. He turned when Taylin put a hand on his arm. “We need to talk,” she said in a low voice, flicking a glance at Storm. The mage nodded without a word, following her to a small forest of cacti just beyond the lusher oasis.
“Is something wrong with the children?” he asked before she said anything.
The woman shook her head. “No. As Izkynder likes to remind her frequently to keep her from worrying, they are very strong. In spirit and body.” She turned to study Storm a few moments while searching for the words. “Perhaps…too strong. They are increasingly drawing on her and she never had much to spare. I know she tries to eat more, but it is just…not enough now.
“I can’t tell if it’s Desanti physiology or because of the environment, but none of her people really have physical reserves. Perhaps whatever changes they endured to survive here took that from them. Either being part Forentan or very strong spirits to start with might be adding to the stress on Storm.”
“I see.” Ash shifted his posture, clasping his hands at the small of his back, displaying his most Forentan formal demeanor. “This journey has taken considerably longer than we intended. With our original provisions exhausted a week ago, the need to stop and resupply whenever we encountered an oasis with enough to stretch them. It has only added to the length of time.” His jaw muscle jumped. “If she would have told us earlier she was with child…”
Taylin did not comment on Ash’s stating the obvious, knowing it was a defensive behavior to hide his fear and worry. “You know why she didn’t.”
He turned his back toward the tribe, spine stiff. “Yes. She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t miscarry early on. She still fears she might. But duty always come first for her, and duty demanded we return to this barren land.” He closed his eyes. “No one should suffer as much burden alone as she does.”
The healer put her hand on his shoulder. “Given all that she has endured, she probably feels the same. Especially about losing friends and family.”
“So why does she risk her life? She is friend and family to all of us. She is everything to me! Doesn’t she think it would hurt us if we lost her?” Azure eyes flashed with emotion. “Why won’t she agree to stop at least until the twins are born? We could manage that long. Especially with three Swordanzen and two Githalin Swordanzen with us.”
“Because the A’tyrna Ulan had been your children, too,” Mureln said as he joined them. “And they have been waiting to be freed from their effort to hold the life to Desantiva for a very long time.” He made a vague gesture toward the camp. “Just knowing what you and she suffered for the past two millenia, do you think she could choose to do anything else but try to free them as quickly as possible? Especially given her fears she might not—” Ash grimaced and stalked away.
“I’ll stay with him,” Mureln told Taylin, kissing her cheek. The woman nodded, hugging herself as she watched the two disappear before returning to the pavilion.
STAR WATCHED AS Izkynder held Laurel’s hands, the baby trying to walk. She smiled when he caught her every time her knees gave out, praising her for her efforts and encouraging her when she would stand up to try again. Tawny brown eyes turned concerned when she glanced at Nolyn seated beside her. He watched Taylin, Mureln and Ash from the corner of his eye. “Beloved, you are discontent.” She touched his shoulder. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing.” He could feel her penetrating gaze and sighed. “There are times I forget it is impossible to lie to you.”
“You know it is possible. When you think and feel too much all at once. But right
now, I can tell what you are feeling quite clearly.” He turned his face toward her when she touched the tip of his chin. “You are angry with your brother?” Her touch conveyed her confusion. “Has he done something to anger you I am unaware of?”
“No, of course not. He’s been far too busy with taking care of his new family to do anything.”
His words focused the emotions behind them. “You’re jealous of his relationship with the other na’Zhekali?” He winced at her accurate words. “Why? Do you not want him to have a family, too? Without them, he would be alone.”
He scowled, drawing one knee up to fuss unnecessarily with his boot laces. “Of course I would not wish him to be alone. How cruel do you think I am?”
“I do not have to think.” She hugged his arm, putting her delicate hand over his heart. “I know you are not cruel. You love him. As dearly as I love my own brothers.” She studied him for several moments, tilting her head to the side. “You are most jealous of Dusvet Mureln?” His grimace answered her question. “But Dusvet Ash is no less your brother now than he was before.”
“But he doesn’t need me like he did before,” he muttered before he could stop himself. When she said nothing, only hugging his arm more, he continued venting his frustration, keeping his voice low. “Whenever he was troubled, he used to come to me. I was as much his confidant as he was mine.
“Then Almek strolls into Forenta, whisks him away with a bunch of foreigners. I knew Ash was special and I was glad he would get the training he needed to harness all the power he had. But I thought once he finished, he would return home and everything would go back to normal, just better than it had been. But the next thing I know…” He exhaled, closing his eyes. “Never mind. It’s petty of me to get emotionally worked up over this. Our lives diverging was bound to happen one day.”
