The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  Rukh pondered over the memory, but without knowing the details of what had happened before or after, the vision was nothing more than what the people here called a snapshot, a picture that could mean anything or nothing.

  He and Duran continued on down the tunnel and passed a number of mosaics and murals. Rukh occasionally paused to study the artwork. The images had been beautifully rendered. The dwarves were a people of great skill. The artisans of Caste Duriah would have appreciated the handiwork. Rukh briefly wondered what that might mean.

  “Here,” Duran said, coming to a halt.

  Before them rose a floor-to-ceiling fresco of a man encased in blue armor and a helmet decorated with cotton-white wisps. He wielded a sword made of silver light, and strangely, a mandolin hung from his hip. The Lord of the Sword.

  The woman fighting beside him had honey-blonde hair and wore green armor. The Lady of Fire. Blue fire billowed from her sword.

  Neither had visages that could be discerned, but not so the being they battled. Shet. He towered over the Lord and the Lady, six-armed with each hand holding a weapon, and a cruel sneer of malice on his face.

  Rukh stood unmoving before the fresco. He remembered battling another titanic being. Suwraith. The Sorrow Bringer. Jessira had been with him that time as well. Saved him. They’d saved one another as well as their world. Arisa.

  More memories stirred. Skills and knowledge. The remembrances flowed into Rukh like a slow-flowing stream. They didn’t inundate him, and he recalled conversations with his father, his mother. Breakfasts with his sister, Bree, and his brother, Jaresh. The first time he met Jessira.

  The memories continued for a time, but eventually they trickled away, and stopped.

  Rukh sighed when the last image, an army of horned monsters—the Baels—bowed before him.

  “Rukh?” Duran asked, his voice hesitant and sounding worried.

  “I’m here,” Rukh answered.

  “You were quiet for an awfully long time,” Duran said, still sounding worried.

  Rukh frowned. “How long?”

  “Hours,” Duran answered. “You stood like a statue. You missed lunch and supper. Are you sure you’re fine?”

  “Never better,” Rukh said, doing his best to reassure the worried dwarf. He hated seeing Duran in any kind of distress. Rukh’s stomach growled just then, and he smiled at Duran. “Let’s eat.”

  Serena fell into a rhythm as she waxed her surfboard. The motion reminded her of the soothing wash of waves in the quiet lagoon in front of her home. A gentle breeze carried a familiar, briny aroma and played amongst the palm trees, shaking the fronds and her still-damp hair.

  Serena loved her cottage, especially the front porch where she worked. From here, she could watch the sunset, or during times like now, work while protected from the blazing afternoon heat.

  She hummed “Gloria” as she waxed the board and replayed the morning’s surfing in her mind. She remembered the waves she’d ridden and how far she’d progressed. A smile flitted across her face. For her, surfing was a prayer, and the ocean her church, and Serena might have worshipped for hours longer except for Selene.

  She had to pick her sister up from school. That had been a few hours ago, and after finishing her classes, Selene had decided to spend the rest of the day with her friends.

  Serena continued to work on her board and smiled again, this time at the freedom her sister had. On Sinskrill, Selene had worked from sunrise to sunset, and often even later. Here, she got to play and live the blessed life Serena wished all children could experience.

  She straightened when she heard someone coming up the path toward her home.

  William pushed through the last of the foliage. “You busy?” he asked.

  Serena hid her surprise at his presence. Since their visit with Rukh and Jessira and his adventures in Australia, he didn’t act like an ass nearly as often, but he still disliked her. Of that she felt certain, but at least he did a better job hiding it.

  “I’m not busy,” Serena answered. “What do you need?”

  “Your help,” William said, stepping onto the porch.

  Serena bent back to the board and resumed waxing it. She caught William’s eyes widening momentarily before he lifted his gaze to the lagoon. She could tell he was pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel.

  It took her a second to understand the cause of his discomfort. Her one-piece swimsuit covered her breasts, but when she bent over her surfboard they became exposed. She rolled her eyes.

  Men.

  She lifted the towel wrapped around her waist, and brought it up higher to cover her chest. “I’m decent now,” she said. “You can turn around.”

  “I wasn’t staring,” William said.

  You wanted to, Serena wanted to tell him. Instead, she said, “It’s fine.”

  He quirked a wry smile. “Are you saying I’m allowed to stare next time?”

  “No,” Serena replied in a frosty tone, and right then a large part of her wanted to slap him. “What kind of help do you need?”

  “How do you use Fire?”

  “I thought Ward Silver was teaching you.”

  “He is, but I need to know more,” William said. “I want to know how Sinskrill does it.”

  “Mahavans are expected to Master their talents,” Serena said, unsure why this was so important to William.

  “How is that different from what an adept magus does?”

  “Because adepts embrace their abilities. Mahavans control them.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “Then watch.” Serena sourced her Spirit, but instead of slowly immersing herself within the glory of her lorethasra, she pulled it directly into her being.

  William frowned. “Your way is faster, but your braids won’t be as strong.”

  “But when you’re fighting, the first one with a braid can get off the first attack, which might be the last one,” Serena said.

  William appeared to struggle with his thoughts, and he grimaced before moving away to stare out over the lagoon.

  Now what?

  Serena waited on him, wondering what had him so bothered.

  “Can you teach me?” William asked, glancing at her.

  Serena blinked in surprise. She wondered how much it had cost him to ask. Probably a lot. Then again, did she really want to spend a lot of time in his presence? Did he want to spend time in hers?

  “We’ll have to be around each other a lot more,” Serena said. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

  “I need all the help and skills I can get if I want to free Travail and Fiona. I need to learn everything.”

  Serena shrugged. “Then I’ll teach you,” she said. “When do you want to get started?”

  “No time like the present,” he said.

  “Let me put away the board and put on some clothes,” she said. She quickly did both and came outside wearing a pair of shorts and a gray T-shirt. “Let’s start with Fire, since that was your first question.”

  William appeared to watch closely when she sourced her lorethasra. He seemed either puzzled or irritated. She couldn’t tell with him anymore. Not as she once could.

  “Can you do it again? Only your lorethasra this time. No other Elements?” William asked.

  She nodded, and did so.

  William leaned in with a frown. “I’m still not getting it.”

  Serena showed him a third time, and William surprised her by reaching for her Spirit with a thread of his own.

  “Don’t . . .” she tried to warn.

  Their Spirits touched, crackling like an electric shock, and for an instant the connection felt like an anchor line splitting the distance between their thoughts.

  Emotions leaked between them. She sensed his regret and anger about their ruined relationship, and she knew he must have sensed her own remorse, her guilt and sorrow at what she had done to him.

  His eyes lit with wonder and understanding, and for a moment he looked at her like she didn�
�t disgust him. “Does touching Spirit-to-Spirit always share emotions?” he asked.

  “Only for those who share a history, and even then rarely,” Serena said, trying to gain control of her roiling thoughts and feelings.

  “I’m sorry,” William said. “I never thought you cared so much.”

  “Forget it,” Serena said. Her eyes filled with tears, and shame filled her heart. Why was she crying all the time? She dashed away the tears. “Come back tomorrow. Today’s lesson is done.”

  She went inside, not bothering to wait for William to leave.

  Serena stood upon a hill overlooking Janaki Valley and stared at the fields spread below her. Green shoots of wheat blustered like a ship’s sail in the breeze while tassels from plantings of corn shivered like rattles. Farther out, on the distant rolling hills, orchards grew and vineyards marched off in neat rows.

  “What do you think?” asked Sile Troy, a tall, lean farmer who Jean-Paul thought might be willing to take her on as an apprentice. Serena privately held little hope Sile would consider her request in a more favorable light than Deidre Mason had.

  “I love it,” Serena answered in complete honesty to Sile’s question. She’d always loved Janaki Valley. Her mother would have loved it, too. It contained a beauty, mystery, and mysticism she’d always longed for. If not for the cross, distrustful looks she had to endure from the farmers—expressions she too often saw no matter the person or profession—the valley would have been paradise.

  Sile nodded acceptance in the languid fashion of someone who had all the time in the world. He wore overalls, a wide-brimmed hat, and squinted as he stared at the green fields. His seamed face appeared as hard and leathery as the thick boots he wore, a mark of decades spent in the sun. All he lacked was a drawl and a stem of hay in his mouth to complete the countenance of a hayseed.

  “You’re from Sinskrill,” Sile noted in a voice as slow as his nod. “I always figured your skills would be geared toward battle.”

  “They are, but not many people need a warrior on Arylyn,” Serena said in a wry tone. “Jean-Paul thought I might enjoy farming since I like to garden.”

  “What are your best Elements?”

  “Fire and Earth,” Serena answered. “I’m okay with Water.”

  “Good skills for a farmer,” Sile agreed before slapping his thigh. “So be it. You can learn what you can from me.”

  Serena blinked in surprise. Had she heard right? She replayed the farmer’s words in her mind, and a burgeoning sense of joy filled her.

  Sile continued on, apparently not noticing her delight. “And if you find yourself bored of the work, I won’t hold it against you if you move on. I only ask you tell me face-to-face. Don’t be a coward about it.”

  Serena couldn’t stop grinning. “Yes, sir.”

  Sile grunted. “Let’s check the gardens,” he suggested before leading her up a gravel path ending at a half-acre plot of rhubarb, tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, and okra. “Come on over here.” He directed her to the rows of rhubarb. “What do you think?”

  “They’re healthy,” Serena said after inspecting the plants. “I don’t see any red edges or brown on the leaves.”

  Sile finally cracked a smile. “Maybe you’ll do,” he said. “And if you want, my wife makes a fine rhubarb pie.”

  Serena crinkled her nose. “I’ll pass,” she said. “Too sour for my taste.”

  “You’re missing out,” Sile said.

  “Do your children think so, too?” Serena teased.

  “We don’t have any children,” Sile said. “My wife and I aren’t compatible in that way.”

  “What do you mean?” Serena asked. She wanted to slap herself the instant the question escaped her mouth. What if the issue was a private matter? Ever since coming to Arylyn she seemed to blurt out every thought, no matter how inappropriate.

  Luckily, Sile didn’t seem to take any offense. “Not every couple on Arylyn can have children,” he said. “Our physicians can tell when two people won’t give birth to an asrasin but to a normal.”

  “We never had that problem in Sinskrill.”

  Sile shrugged. “Some of the doctors think it’s related to the density of our lorasra. It’s enough to keep us alive, but it isn’t thick enough to make sure every child is born with a potential for lorethasra.”

  “I guess,” Serena said in uncertainty. “Sinskrill’s lorasra is much deeper than Arylyn’s.”

  “And more polluted from what I hear. Some say it’s because of Shet.”

  “You’ve heard about him?” Serena asked in surprise.

  “After what happened in Australia, everyone has,” Sile said. “Enough gossiping.” He broke off and strode away.

  Serena hustled to catch up with him. As slowly as he spoke, he made up for it with an ambling gait that chewed up the yards.

  “Let me show you something,” Sile said, and they entered a long, narrow greenhouse. “This is something I would expect you to master.”

  In a trough full of soil, he planted several seeds and wove a delicate braid of Earth and Water. It dripped from his fingers into the soil.

  Serena watched in amazement at his level of control. “I can’t do that,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

  “You can if you want to learn,” Sile said. He continued to slowly pour his weave into the seeds. A green shoot lifted from the black soil, and Sile grunted. “Used too much there.” He sounded clinical. “Need to give some Fire to this little one to keep it resistant to disease.” A flare of sulfur, and the shoot brightened for a second.

  “Can you do it again? The weave to induce growth?” Serena asked. She wanted to see exactly how he’d formed his braid.

  Sile formed the weave again, and Serena concentrated on it the entire time. The skill remained beyond her abilities, too light and elegant for her Sinskrill training, but in time, maybe.

  “And the Fire?” she asked.

  Again, Sile demonstrated what he meant.

  This time Serena realized this was a braid she might be able to create.

  “There’s a lot more to show you, if you like,” Sile said. He left the greenhouse, and Serena jogged to keep up with him.

  They reached a field of wheat.

  “We till our land the old way,” he said, “with a horse or a ox hitched to a plow, but we make it easier on the animals by softening the ground first with a bit of Earth and Water.”

  “On Sinskrill, it’s all done by hand,” Serena said.

  “Seems mighty hard,” Sile noted, “but then again, farming is hard no matter where or when it’s done. You sure you want this life?”

  “Yes,” Serena said. Something welled inside her, a longing to create rather than destroy, a joy she sometimes felt when humming “Gloria.” She touched a drooping, little plant next to her and added the thread of Fire that Sile had shown her. The plant perked up, and Serena smiled, glad to have helped something live. A sense of peace filled her.

  “That’s a tree,” Sile said in a dry tone. “Trees in a farmer's field aren’t usually good things.”

  William stretched his legs as he leaned back in his Adirondack chair and watched the sun set over Lilith Bay. Somehow, the blue water had become a mirror, and reflected the sky’s lustrous pinks and purples. Twilight always settled upon Arylyn’s heavens like an overturned painter’s palette. He sighed in appreciation as a cool trade wind blew. It shook nearby palm fronds, rattling them like maracas, the perfect musical accompaniment to watching Serena surf as she balanced on her board—long, lean, and beautiful.

  He shut off those thoughts and changed his attention to where Jake, Daniel, and Lien were attempting to build a bonfire without lorethasra for a cookout on the beach.

  William considered taking a nap and waking up when the food was ready.

  He closed his eyes, but before he could fall asleep, Jason nudged him and handed him a glass of lemonade.

  William levered himself upright in his chair and accepted the drink. “Th
anks.”

  “You look whooped,” Jason said, slumping next to him in a matching chair.

  William gestured to the wooden skeleton of a boat several hundred yards away. So far, not much more than a few ribs clung to the keel. “That dhow’s what’s got me whooped.”

  “You’re not planning on sailing it all the way to Sinskrill, are you?”

  “Don’t know,” William answered. “As long as it has enough room for Rukh and Jessira, we’ll be all right.”

  “What’s this ‘we’?” Jason asked. “I never agreed to go.”

  William rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be all right if they’re with me. Happy now?”

  Jason shrugged. “You know, instead of building your own boat, you could borrow someone else’s.”

  “Maybe,” William said, “except I want my own.”

  “With Serena to teach you how to sail it.” Jason’s statement had shades of unspoken meaning.

  “You trying to imply something?” William asked.

  “No. Just commenting. Forget I mentioned it,” Jason said with a shake of his head.

  But William couldn’t forget. He suspected what Jason was thinking. William was falling for Serena again.

  “It’s not like that,” William said. “I’m not dumb enough to go down that road again.”

  “Yes, you are,” Lien said, approaching them. She’d obviously overheard the last part of their conversation. “Both of you. Add in Daniel and Jake, and you’re the four horseman of the moronic-apocalypse.”

  “Shouldn’t you be making my dinner?” Jason asked.

  Lien picked up a large basket near the Adirondack chairs. It held steaks, ears of corn, asparagus, and potatoes. “For that, you get all the burned pieces.” She returned to the bonfire and handed the basket off to Jake.

  “He still wants to go home,” William said, pointing his chin at Jake.

  “I know.”

  William hesitated, wanting to know why Jason never talked about his family, or why he never went home. He held his tongue, though. It was obviously a sensitive topic.