A sharp, explosive sound jerked Telyn around, her anaqueri flashing into her hand as she dropped into a warrior's defensive stance. She blinked, and her heart calmed as she realized the sound was the door closing. Rori was gone.
"Ceteraktou!" With that explosive oath, Telyn surged across the room and slammed the shutters closed on Raiador, throwing the locks tight. There was no way she wanted to remember it was out there. She wasn't about to look at it. With a small shudder of relief, she re-sheathed the anaqueri and turned to the lavish bed.
She couldn't bear the thought of going near that disgusting monstrosity, yet. She didn't even want to be in this room. It didn't matter who her mother was. Telyn spent more than half her life as little more than a street urchin. She wasn't interested in or comfortable with the finer things in life, or displays of wealth and power. Looking around her again, she shuddered.
She had to get out of here.
Once outside the room, however, Telyn was at a loss for where to go. Though she knew her position as a Gildgard granted her instant welcome in the Garda, she wasn't in the mood for more talk of war, which permeated the air around the Camp.
She hesitated to venture outside for fear of succumbing to Raiador's pull, but the thought of a quiet conversation with her oldest and dearest friend held great appeal. Bloodcloud might not be much of a conversationalist, but at least she knew her secrets were safe with him.
The more she thought about it, the more appealing the stables sounded. Her mind made up, she strode purposefully down the halls and out into the settling darkness. The dark was no more frightening to her than daylight -- there were no shadows, for her, with her Bathron eyes. Immediately upon leaving the building, however, she was aware of Raiador's overwhelming pull. With gritted teeth and great effort, she ignored its pull and kept her gaze fixed on her destination.
The stable was dim and warm, its familiar scents and sounds a soothing balm to Telyn's fears. The shuffling and whickering of horses and the scents of straw and warm animal were more like home to her than any lavishly appointed chamber could ever be.
She approached Bloodcloud's stall with a smile, and heard his familiar snuffling, then the muted sound of his hooves moving in the straw, before his head poked over the stall door, and he loosed a soft whicker of greeting.
Her smile widened, even as her eyes burned with grateful tears. She couldn't help it. Bloodcloud was the only friendly sight she encountered since arriving here. And she'd promised him they'd be gone, by now.
"Sorry, old friend," she whispered as she stroked his nose in a motion meant to soothe them both. "Something's not right, here. Looks like we'll be here longer than I thought."
Bloodcloud snorted and tossed his head, as if to reassure her that he understood, and a soft smile tugged at Telyn's lips. She could always trust Bloodcloud to understand what she left unsaid. To this day, she was convinced Lady Raleena insisted on making her a gift of the young horse because she'd known Telyn would need him. Of anyone alive -- except perhaps Dariadus -- Lady Raleena knew how difficult it was for Telyn to confide in people.
"You know, if I was witnessing that for the first time, I'd swear you and the horse were speaking to each other, and that he actually understands what you're telling him. I learned how true it is, a long time ago."
The voice was deep, but quiet, as it drifted from the shadows to her right. Telyn turned in surprise to find the mercenary Lysha called Nacaris leaning against one support pole, watching her. Strange, tingling warmth crawled over her skin as she met his smoky-green eyes, and the strange feeling she knew him from somewhere returned. It was ridiculous. If she'd met him, before, she would remember. He wasn't the kind of man she'd forget.
Annoyed at herself, she jerked out a shrug and turned back to Bloodcloud.
"I think he does. The Endlanders believe horses are spirits sent by the Old Gods to guide and protect travelers in the Wastes. I've seen an aging mare face down a pack of hungry wadhin to save the life of her unconscious rider."
She sensed him move, knew the instant he passed by her with the same awareness that told her she knew him. Her body's reaction to his presence confused and frightened her. Who was this man, and how did he wield this kind of power over her?
She nearly jumped when he spoke again. "You don't act much like a Gildgard."
Her spine stiffened, and she told herself she was supposed to take insult, not agree with him. "You've encountered many Gildgards, before?"
He turned and shot her a wry grin, even as those smoky eyes seemed to peer right through her soul. "Enough to know that as a lot, they're stoic and unflinchingly loyal to their House. No Gildgard I've ever met would be caught dead skulking around the closed doors of a Master's Chamber like a common spy."
Heat flushed her face. So, he had seen her. Embarrassed, she jerked out an uneasy shrug. "It's more of a title of convenience, in my case. The Gild don't like rogue anaqueri out wandering around, so they made me a Gildgard. I don't think it was an ideal choice for either of us."
One of his dark brows lifted in surprise. "Then why were you sent here?"
A small, bitter laugh jerked from her throat as she turned away. "As if you don't already know. I'm sure Brun-Gild gave you an earful about me and my past with Raiador during your little war council, earlier."
It was Nacaris' turn to laugh, but the sound was derisive. "He wouldn't confide anything in me. I'm not here at his whim, and I've already informed him I don't intend to allow him to start anything without proper authorization from the Gild Council. He hates that -- and me for it, I imagine. Could be I'm at least a part of the reason you're here."
Her heart skipped a beat. Telyn was sure Nacaris didn't even know the reaction his words caused. She wasn’t even sure she understood. She had no idea why the idea this meeting was somehow destined occurred to her every time she was near this man, and she wasn't about to contemplate it with him standing right there. Instead, she focused on the admittance he wasn't here because of Brun-Gild.
"Lysha said..."
A wry smile tipped up one side of his mouth, again. "A Garda rumor I've done nothing to quell, I'm afraid. Something about how I'm some mercenary Bathron hunter Brun-Gild brought in to solve his problem. Truth is, I'm here because you aren't the only one who distrusts Brun-Gild, or his motives. Powerful people in your Household wanted someone with no personal or political stake in the matter to snoop into what he was doing here."
She was amazed. In all her cycles in Colandra, she never heard so much as a whisper that anyone was suspicious of Brun-Gild's activities. Not enough to warrant hiring on a mercenary. "So, you're not here to hunt Bathron?"
"If I was, would I be talking to you?" One eyebrow lifted again, and his direct stare held a silent, pointed declaration he saw her eyes for what they were, and knew. She flushed and looked away.
He shifted toward her and his boots entered her downcast line of vision before a warm, callused hand lifted her face back to his. "Don't worry, Telyn. I don't mean you any harm. In fact, I've seen nothing to convince me Brun-Gild's claim holds any merit at all. I rather believe he's using an old animosity and fear to blind everyone to some plot of his own creation. I just haven't been able to uncover his agenda."
His words gave Telyn pause. "How long have you been here?"
"Nearly a fortnight. And all I've seen so far is a lot of ungrounded fear and rumor, and no real evidence that makes any sense."
Telyn frowned as she processed this information. It was surprising, and allowed her a little more confidence in Nacaris. However, if his reasons for being here were so noble, why had he been so evasive with her, before? Why did she get the feeling he was keeping secrets?
"You never even told me your name."
There was a long, pregnant pause, and she studied his face intently, watching the uneasiness and resignation flit across his features. Then, with a heaved breath of surrender, he answered her. "Nacaris. My name is Nacaris."
She studied him with a wary, curious g
aze. What would drive a man to keep his mere name a secret from a perfect stranger? "You dress like a Borderlander, but I know you're not a Borderlander, Bathron, or Gild. Where do you come from, Nacaris?"
He paused, and she saw pained memory and conflict cross his features, before he shook his head. "Nowhere. I don't have a home."
Telyn's throat closed. At last, she understood her instant connection to this man. Like her, he was searching for something. However, looking into his eyes, she knew he, at least, knew what he was looking for. As she watched him walk away, she wished she was so confident.
Weighed down by her own uncertainty, Telyn gave Bloodcloud a final pat, then made her way slowly back toward the chamber she'd been given for the night. She was exhausted to the depths of her soul, but plagued by an endless spiral of questions, daring her to unravel the mystery of why she was so sure she knew Nacaris, and why it even mattered. Confusion's grip was so strong, she barely noticed the mountain, or anything else, until she was back in her chamber, faced with that hideous bed, again.
She hated having to sleep in that monstrosity, but she was too exhausted to go another round with Brun-Gild over this. Tomorrow, she'd move to the Garda bunkroom.
Sinking onto the side of the bed, she removed her sword belt and boots, setting them up beside the bed within easy reach. Then, with an internal shudder, she slipped beneath the frilly duvet. One last thought filtered through her tired mind before sleep claimed her. She'd better not dream about that damned mountain.
*****
He'd watched her slow steps as she returned to the Camp House with concern, and tried to ignore the sharp jab of guilt that pierced his heart to see her so confused and lonely. He'd give so much to change all of that, but it was becoming clear how impossible his dream was.
Alone in the stables, Nacaris came to a stop before the second-to-last stall on the right. Its occupant snuffled a greeting, moving into the dim moonlight to eye his visitor curiously.
Nacaris stretched out one hand, palm up and closed in a loose fist, allowing the horse to catch his scent, though he knew no introductions were necessary. He and this stallion had known each other since they were both young. He'd cared for Bloodcloud -- as little more than a colt -- and showed Telyn how to care for the horse she'd seemed clueless about but so determined to protect with her life she'd threatened him at the point of her anaqueri, the first day they met.
Nacaris absently rubbed the small scar on the side of his neck as he remembered that day, and all those that came after, and his heart ached with the memories. However, the pain of memory was nothing compared to the pain he felt earlier, looking into eyes that held barely a spark of recognition. As little more than a boy, he gave his heart to a young girl with glowing eyes and a quicksilver temper, and through all the Summers since, he'd been unable to forget her.
"You're the only one she ever saw, old boy," he murmured to the horse. "You, and Dariadus. And both of your hearts were quite beyond her grasp."
It stung, at first, but he eventually accepted that Telyn's world revolved around Dariadus. As Marat consoled him at the time, it was only to be expected. Dariadus was a hero, a legend, with a host of rich tales told about him, and gallant charm women swooned over. Too bad none of them knew Dariadus preferred darkly handsome men. Yet, Nacaris was certain Telyn -- Dariadus' closest confidante -- would have known that. And assuming she did, Nacaris didn't understand why she chose Dariadus over his own offer, that one night in the desert when he came as close to paradise as he'd ever been. Only the fear in her eyes, just before she fled his embrace, stayed with him. That memory made him regret their one and only kiss, because it cost him a lifetime without his heart.
*****
Telyn.
The voice whispered, light as a breath and reverent as a prayer, in her ear.
The daughter of Ashes has returned. A second voice, as ardent as the first, joined in.
We have been calling. If she is the One, why does she not come to us? A third voice hissed, dark with skepticism.
There is a new power about her. A new ally. It will take time for her to understand, the first voice explained patiently.
We must teach her to wield that power properly, agreed the second. The Phoenix must fly again.
We don't have time for this, the third muttered impatiently. With every moment we delay, the Book slips further away. Without it, we have no protector. Send the Summoning, and let's be done with it.
The voices continued to swirl through her, joined by more and more, all chanting in a cadence that pulsed like the Dorfaíle, and tears seeped from her closed eyelids as she fought their siren song. Her heart twisted in her chest as if she suffered diabolical torture, rather than comfortably ensconced in a lavish bed. Those voices were full of desperation that ate through the sleep she tried to cling to. Yet there was a joy in their song, reveling in the mountain's fire.
The sense of purpose she searched a lifetime for suddenly blossomed in Telyn's heart as flames licked at her skin from the inside, hot enough to sear flesh from bone. Yet, bizarre calm held even the thought of pain far from her mind. Instead, she tossed in her sleep, attempting to banish the seductive sound that pulled so strongly at her.
Agony grew in the flames around her, until light seared the backs of her eyelids, and pounding heat engulfed her body. With a cry of terror, Telyn sat bolt upright, her eyes flying open.
The room was dark, though shadowy flickers of light crept in around the edges of the roanwood door. A cool breeze shifted the curtains and flowered through the room. Telyn shivered as it hit her sweat-soaked, overheated skin. Her brow furrowed. Camp Houses weren't known to be drafty -- least of all this one. So where was the draft coming from?
A terrifying thought struck her. It couldn't be!
To prove to herself that she was paranoid, Telyn turned toward the west wall. Her eyes widened, and her stomach wrenched. "I don't believe it!"
The shutters she so painstakingly made certain to bolt tight now bumped softly against the wall, wide open once again. The face of Raiador peered through the inky blackness outside, lit by over a hundred thousand flickering lights. She was in so much trouble.
Chapter Two
Telyn's well-trained senses came to life, forcing her terror to the back of her mind, as she studied the not-so-distant lights, and the memory of her dream haunted her.
Right away, her mind leapt to real world possibilities. Was the Minanx Camp under attack? If it was, why had she received no warning? Why could she hear no sounds of a Camp rallying against the attackers?
Her night-attuned eyes focused warily on the lights up on the mountain. Telyn jumped from the bed and yanked on her boots. She paused only when she strapped on her sword belt and the soothing weight of the anaqueri settled warmly against her thigh. Finally, she knew they weren't under attack. If battle was imminent, the anaqueri would know even before she did. It would be thrumming with tension, eager for the action to come.
The serenity of the anaqueri strapped to her side raised chilling gooseflesh along her skin as her dreams filtered back, again. The lights along the mountain were moving, but not toward the Minanx Camp. Instead, they flickered back and forth, as if beckoning her to follow.
One thing she knew for sure -- those weren't Dorfaíle. The firestones pulsed steadily and darkly, like smoldering embers left over from a fire. Those dots in the distance were fiery dancers, undulating brightly across the inky night as their warmth reached out to envelope her. As she focused on them, a spinning sensation overcame her, and dizziness assaulted her as the lights whirled before her eyes.
Fear seized her chest as a new feeling overcame her -- the sensation of movement. Blessed Kishfa! She was moving. She was riding flaming waves out through the large window, and into the heart of Raiador.
The Phoenix, Telyn. The Phoenix must fly again. Voices whispered through her mind and soul. She wanted to be afraid -- carypdor, she should be downright terrified. But she wasn't. Instead, serenity engulfed her.
This was what it felt like to be cherished.
Daughter of Gwneth, the daughter of Ashes has arrived.
Her mother's name held her attention. She had no idea who these voices belonged to, or how they knew her mother's name. Before she could question that, she was suddenly falling, darkness wrapped around her like an iridescent cloak. She tried to scream, but the sound pressed itself inward, compressing inside her chest. She tensed for the impact, and then forced herself to relax. This was a dream. It had to be. Dreams couldn't harm her. She would wake before she hit the ground.
The dull ache of impact convinced her otherwise, though the ache was more surprise than pain. New fear brushed across her mind. If she experienced landing, and pain, then this was... real.
Light flared softly against her eyelids, and the whisper of warm air touched her cheek like a caress. Groaning, she forced her eyes open, and a gasp of astonishment left her. There was no place in the world that looked like this, was there? She must be in the next world, which didn't make any sense. She wasn't dead. Was she?
Her gaze cast around, searching for anything familiar. The walls of the cavern -- if she could call something that stretched beyond where her eyes could see a cavern -- were black and shiny, like a dark mirror which reflected the light in flickers and sparks. She reached out to touch, curious. She'd never seen stone like this, before. Her hand brushed over the warm, smooth surface, piquing her curiosity more. What was this stuff?
She looked around, and relaxed as she finally saw something familiar. Dorfaíle. Pillars of the smoldering red rock rose high around her, joining floor and ceiling at a span of some thirty meters. The ceiling was made of a smooth-looking red stone Telyn was sure she'd never seen before. It was opaque, and yet appeared strangely transparent at the same time. Rainbow light, deep in its core, dazzled her with winking glances.
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