A Kingdom Scorched

by Linn Tesli

  Ayva rushed to her side and took Everine’s hand in hers, while Gaija hung back. There were a couple of castle maids at the foot end. One was wringing a towel in her hands, spotted with blood, into a metal basin. The other sat on her knees, massaging Everine’s feet. It just would not do.

  Gaija waved the castle maids off to take a peek between Everine’s legs. ”I don’t think this particular baby will be able to fit through such a small opening. It’s half Earthling, after all. If you attempt this, there’s a chance you’ll lose more blood than you can spare,” she said to Everine. Gaija’s sockets turned to dim grey, as they always did when she read the future.

  ”What?” Ayva asked. Bloodshot eyes stared at Gaija behind shiny veils as the shaman’s gaze finally turned back to crimson.

  ”It’s unclear, though this way is almost certain to claim both their lives,” Gaija said.

  Everine propped herself up on her elbows in an awkward motion. ”Just save him.”

  ”How do you know it’s a him,” Gaija asked, lifting her mouth at one corner.

  ”I didn’t, but I do now.” Falling back, Everine released another scream, grabbing onto the bed sheets with both hands.

  ”The contractions are getting closer,” Gaija urged. ”I’m going to have to remove the baby from Everine’s womb through her stomach.”

  There was an audible gasp from the castle maids huddled in the corner.

  Ayva ignored them. ”Will she live through it?”

  ”The baby has a good chance. He’s strong—your mother’s future is more uncertain, however. There are other things at play, but this is not the time for that...”

  ”Do what you must.” Ayva nodded and wiped her brow with her free hand.

  ”Very well. You two,” Gaija said to the castle maids. ”I need clean towels, sutures, one sewing needle, as sharp a knife as you can find, and a jar of herbs from my chamber – the one with the purple and golden crystals in it. Also, we are going to need lots of water.”

  The castle maids scurried off and quickly returned with everything Gaija had demanded. Gaija retrieved a bunch of herbs with purple petals from the jar, soaked them in a glass of water, and handed it to Ayva.

  ”Have her drink this,” Gaija said.

  When the water was gone from the glass, Gaija purified the blade of the knife over the flames of a lantern before she pulled back the covers to reveal Everine’s bulging belly. The outline of a hand pushed against the skin next to her navel.

  Gaija raised an eyebrow. This child was much bigger than a human infant, though not as big as an Earthling pup. ”I need you, Your Majesty. When I make the incision, you have to be ready and follow my instructions. She might need your help when the blood loss becomes severe. Use your powers and lend her spirit some of your energy. The herbs will have her too sedated to remember she has to cling onto her life.”

  Shaking, Ayva rose and went to stand next to Gaija as the knife slid through the skin at the bottom of Everine’s stomach. Torrents of blood seeped over the bed sheets and onto the floor. Gaija worked with great precision as Ayva followed her every word to perfection, wiping away the blood, washing the wound, and repeatedly changing the wet towels from Everine’s forehead. As queen, she could have handed this task over to the maids. Luckily for Aradria, Ayva wasn’t that kind of queen.

  "There he is,” Gaija marveled as a blood-covered hand stretched through the open wound. Sticking her forearms into Everine’s stomach, Gaija twisted the baby inside the womb as Everine’s body responded with severe spasms. Gaija pulled her hands back out. The oversized infant turned his head and squinted his chocolate brown eyes at her. His mouth opened and he cried. His square features and golden curls marked his Earthling heritage.

  Gaija handed the baby over to Ayva, heated the needle over the flame in the lantern, and began stitching Everine’s uterus together before continuing with her deflated stomach.

  ”What now,” Ayva asked as she staggered off to clean the baby.

  ”Now, we wait,” Gaija said, bringing another towel to Everine’s forehead. ”You have been very brave, my friend,” she whispered in Everine’s ear. ”I hope it does not cost you your life. Besides, you don’t want to miss out on all the fun yet to come.”

  Everine’s face was as white as the marble surrounding them, yet the hint of a smile touched her lips. Gaija squeezed her hand. Everine had been through so much. There was a fierce strength inside this human body, and Gaija hoped it would be enough to survive yet another close encounter with the otherworld. Gaija sighed, and her thoughts drifted. The image of a fire-breathing dragon circling Vulkan Mountain repeated itself vividly in the back of her mind.

  3

  PRINCE OF FIRE

  - Niila -

  A single leaf sailed through the open window, and the crescent moon looked in on them as if smiling. Niila wiggled into Kenith’s embrace. Heat rolled off him in incessant waves, so she shed the blanket. He breathed into her hair, and his heart beat along with hers.

  “Still awake?” Kenith whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s hard to sleep when a baby is screaming next door.”

  Niila grabbed a pillow, playfully hitting Kenith over the head with it.

  He pushed the pillow to the floor. “What was that for?”

  She planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Silly! I don’t mind the baby crying. It’s kind of nice after everything we’ve been through.”

  His muscles tightened as he held her closer.

  After everything they had endured, Niila knew there was more to come. What she had with Kenith could never come before their duties. Êvina was a good place for the time being, but they were not done with their claims on the Elemental thrones. “I wish we could always stay like this.”

  Kenith loosened his grip and rolled onto his back. “We are here now.”

  The words left unspoken gave the room an energy of sorrow. Tears threatened to spill out, but Niila bit back her thoughts on the future of their relationship. Again. They belonged to entirely different parts of Aradria; even their elements were counterparts. They were different in every possible way, apart from in their hearts.

  “I’m sure the Vaexennas will bow to you as soon as they see who you truly are.” She lay a hand on his chest and snuggled closer. He had to go back eventually.

  “Sure. All I need to do is snap my fingers, right?”

  Niila grimaced but didn’t comment. It was certainly not going to be easy. Not at all.

  Kenith angled his head back and brushed away a stray lock of hair from her cheek. ”I only wish Hadeth was the biggest threat. With Zarcos still at large, the Silverlings will not be far behind. Also, I don’t exactly have any friends in Lycobris left.”

  “I know.” Niila sighed. “I’m not saying it isn’t going to be difficult, but together we’ll find a way.”

  Kenith stroked his hand over her head; the warm sensation sent a surge of bliss through her veins. All her doubts were washed to shore, if only for a moment. They would find a way even when the hour was darkest. They had overcome the worst obstacles imaginable to get to where they were. She had to believe their love would be enough.

  An ear-splitting screech pierced the night as an orange haze clouded the sky outside.

  “What in Aradria...” Niila sat, rubbing her eyes. She put on her nightgown, fastening it around her waist.

  “Dragon!” Kenith bounced from the bed and rushed to the window. “I can feel him in my bones.” Kenith’s sun-kissed skin began glowing as if the heat inside him had latched onto his body in an embrace. His hands gripped the windowsill, and his dark hair shifted around his head with the increasing gusts of wind.

  Niila jumped as Kenith’s back arched forward in a sudden rush. He snapped his head back, and a breath of blazing fire escaped his mouth.

  “Kenith?” She got up and started toward him, the marble floor sending shivers up her feet. Did he say dragon? Dragons were supposed to be long gone from Aradria. It had to be some tric
k. Every step suddenly felt like walking on a beach at the hottest point of summer. She could almost touch the building energy in the room. The heat was insufferable, pushing her back. Beads of perspiration trickled down her spine.

  “Kenith,” she cried, to no response. Could he not hear her? The man she loved was standing engulfed in flames. It wouldn’t hurt him, but her skin sent searing jolts of pain through her body. She considered calling for her element but found her power weak in the face of this magic. The walls sizzled and, as Niila could no longer bear the heat, she took to her heels and fled the room.

  She ran down the hall, the cold marble soothing the soles of her feet. She stopped to catch her breath, then knocked on the doors in front of her. The Êblazons guarding Ayva’s chamber only glanced briefly at Niila. She wasn’t deemed a threat.

  “Come,” Ayva answered from the other side.

  One of the guards opened the doors for Niila, and she rushed inside.

  Ayva was sitting by the window, cradling her newborn sibling. The night sky was ablaze, and dark clouds swept past like chunks of charcoal dancing in a hearth. Everine was asleep in her bed, and Gaija snored in a chair next to her.

  “Did you see it?” Ayva asked.

  “What?” Niila wiped her brow with the back of her hand, her nightgown glued to her skin.

  Ayva’s eyes shimmered with expectation. “The dragon.”

  Niila went to Ayva’s side and stared out the window. “No. I think Kenith did, though. Or, at least, he felt it. I’m not sure. Something happened to him. Is there really a dragon out there?”

  The sky was dark, yet a hue of orange shone somewhere far off to the east. Ayva reached out a hand, folding it with Niila’s. “I sensed it. Kenith’s spirit changed in an instant. He and the dragon are connected somehow, though I don’t know anything about dragons besides what you once told me.”

  “I do,” Gaija croaked. She stirred in her chair, stretching her arms. A massive yawn formed on her face. “I believe it’s time I told you, all of you, about the second coming.”

  Ayva frowned, her starlight hair lifting off her shoulders like waves building around her face. “Sounds like we should convene the council soon.”

  “I shall see to it, Your Majesty. We’ll need to help your mother if she lasts the night, however. Then Everine will need our help to take care of the boy for a few days while she recovers. When she can manage on her own, I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Gaija winked and went back to sleep.

  Niila shuddered, her eyes focused on the sky outside. Kenith’s spirit had changed? But how? And what would that do to their future, not to mention the future of Aradria? Moreover, if a dragon had, in fact, emerged from history, what did that have to do with Kenith?

  4

  HALF BREED

  - Sol -

  The scent of growing crops blended with the stench of death that still lingered in the hollow of Bermunnos Mountain. Shafts of sunlight intensified the constant crimson hue the chasm had acquired after the Battle of Ancient Creatures. The noise would never end. Clanks and bangs from the hammers, nails piercing wood, constant chatter and crackling fires were ever present. The stonemasons and builders had been working for months, yet the reconstruction of Sol’s beloved chasm was far from done. Most of the gryphons had returned and helped gather what supplies the Earthlings needed but, even through the noise, the Chasm carried an air of silence—the unspoken silence between kin—of how the one they called savior might very well have been their doom. There was a void in Sol’s people, and herself.

  Sol leaned back in her council seat, lifting her eyes to the blue sky ripping through the chasm’s mouth. She stretched out her hand, stroking the armrest on the seat next to her. The cold stone sent slivers of ice up her arm as if reminding her of how her heart had cooled. Ragnar had been her constant, her reason for putting aside her practice of witchcraft. Sol had no reasons left to stay her powers. Bermunnos buzzed with life, yet she had never felt more alone in the chasm. Ragnar was gone and, even though Êvina had been overthrown, the sacrifices her people had made were beyond what she had bargained for. What had Bermunnos gained from their sacrifice? From sheltering a mother and child on the run from the Heartless King? He might have been heartless, but he had been the high monarch of Aradria. Perhaps she had been wrong to let Everine into their fold. Sol had once thought she had to pay penance for her transgressions during the Fall. It wasn’t right, however, that her people had to pay as well, and she regretted the day she had allowed Everine to find haven in Bermunnos.

  Someone cleared his throat. “My Lady.”

  Sol turned to the Earthling guard in front of her. Harald’s sun-colored curls were braided back over his head, down to the base of his neck. The golden armor on his body was newly forged and polished. He was a fresh recruit for the Ahddamssons. She had been forced to take on a lot of new and very young recruits since what had quickly been named the Battle of Ancient Creatures—a battle that had caused her the loss of everyone she loved.

  “The gryphon, Ondox, is asking for an audience.”

  Sol’s eyes widened. Ondox had not set his paws in Bermunnos since he flew off to fight for the Elementals at the battle of Êvina. She had not been sure he would return as he was the gryphon who brought Everine to Bermunnos in the first place. She didn’t blame him, however. The gryphon was wise and able, and he had proven useful in battle. It was a comfort to know that he was still an ally of Bermunnos.

  “I’ll speak with him.”

  Harald inclined his head and whistled before running off.

  A rush of wind tussled Sol’s curly locks, no doubt sending strands of hair out of the neat hoops she had so meticulously arranged. Ondox glided down the chasm to land with a thump in front of Sol. The giant gryphon rustled his feathers as he turned to her.

  “Ondox.” Sol clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m glad to see you. I hope you come with good tidings?”

  Ondox bent his front legs and bowed his head. “I’m happy to have returned. I’m afraid the news isn’t all we had hoped.” His deep voice was unsettling, but Sol had to know.

  “Get it over with, would you?”

  “I regret to inform you that only three Earthlings survived the journey through the tunnels. Actually, make that four and a half.”

  That was an odd number. “Maud’s baby?”

  “Maud and her baby are fine. A Siren wet nurse helped with the delivery. The boy’s name is Thorkil. They have moved into the white castle for now, before they intend to return home. The Ahddamssons Henrik and Abel survived, too.”

  Sol’s palms were moist. This news meant neither Frida nor Thror nor Thorleif had made the journey. However, Sol had cried enough. “And Everine?”

  “Everine is... recovering.”

  “Was she terribly wounded in the battle?” Sol’s voice was even. She tried to sound concerned, though something inside of her almost wanted the gryphon to say yes. She didn’t wish ill on her old friend, and yet she blamed Everine for everything. Most of all, she realized, she blamed her for Ragnar’s death.

  The gryphon nipped at his feathers and issued a gentle squawk. “She’s given birth.”

  The surprise nearly had Sol topple forward, but she squared her shoulders and bit her tongue. Ondox was polite enough to ignore the shock that must have been all over her face.

  “She gave birth to Birken’s son about a week ago,” he said.

  “A half-breed!” No Earthling was known to have mated with a human before Birken, and if they had there had certainly not been any offspring to confirm such an encounter. The thought of a half-breed Earthling unsettled Sol, as well as offering her a sense of purpose. An Earthling half-breed would need careful supervision. Who knew how he would evolve? Especially considering his heritage. Everine was hardly equipped for the challenge. There was no doubt in Sol’s mind that Birken’s pup belonged to Bermunnos. He would bring back hope to her people.

  “What is Everine’s intention with the pup?”


  “You mean her son?”

  Sol glared at the gryphon.

  Ondox nipped at his wing again, then stretched his neck. “They have been given haven in Êvina. I suspect she intends to raise him there, where she can also be close to her daughter.”

  Sol would not have it. Ayva was preoccupied with her new duties, and none of them knew enough about raising an Earthling child. Especially not one like this. There could be no discussion on the matter.

  “Tell Everine to come back home. The child belongs to Bermunnos, and I’ll not have him raised in human conditions. Tell her that this is the best place for her son, and I promise we’ll take good care of them both.”

  Ondox’s blue-white eyes shifted around the chasm. “I owe you as much. I’ll fly back and deliver your message, though I give you no guarantees she’ll listen. You know Everine as much as I do. She rarely changes her mind.”

  Sol had no illusions about what the gryphon thought on the matter, but his allegiance was with the Earthlings first and he would honor that, even if he didn’t agree with her. The Earthlings had given the gryphons a home when theirs had been taken. Bermunnos had been their nest for the past seventeen years. They had a debt to pay.

  “Thank you, my friend. Please, return to your kin for the night. I’ll not keep you any longer.”

  Ondox inclined his head before taking flight.

  Sol closed her eyes, allowing the memories of a time long past to skim to the surface of her mind.

  “What do you think?” Georganna smiled and opened her folded hands.

  Sol gasped. A small bed of dirt erupted from the lines in Georganna’s palms before a thin emerald stalk began wiggling its way free. The stem stretched upwards towards the spear of light piercing through the roof of green. It grew taller and thicker until the tip of it blew out and then folded open, revealing large sapphire petals with a core like the sun.