The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  It took both Aibek and Faruz to pull Dalan onto the dragon’s back. Once he was settled, Gworsad stretched his great leathery wings and launched them into the air.

  28

  Return

  From the dragon’s back, Faruz could see everything for miles. He held tight to the mossy, hair-like frill protruding from the dragon’s neck, craning his neck to see the villages, the plains beyond the forest, and the bits of ground that showed between the bare branches. As the familiar landmarks faded into the distance, Faruz turned his thoughts to what lay ahead. He leaned close to Aibek, shouting over the rushing wind.

  “Where are we going?”

  Aibek glanced back and grinned. “We’re going to the Heart of the Forest.”

  “But…Why? They got my pack.” His whispered words blew away with the wind, and he hung his head in shame. The one warning he had heard repeatedly had been to protect that fruit; keep it away from those who would use it for evil. He had failed.

  “Why so glum?”

  Aibek nudged him with a grin, and Faruz shrank away, bumping into Dalan in the process. The white-haired young man didn't take his eyes off the horizon, and Faruz turned his attention back to his best friend. He couldn't find the words, so he just shook his head. What could he say? The forest would die because he had failed to protect that fruit. He frowned, thinking back over the encounter with Helak's men. He hadn't failed. He had defended it with everything he had. Aibek had cut the pack off and tossed it to their enemy.

  Jerking his head up, he met Aibek’s gaze. Fury and confusion grew in his chest, vying for dominance. Confusion won out. Aibek would never have sabotaged his beloved forest.

  They had begun to dive toward the ground, and the wind whipped about his ears in a furious rush. Faruz had to lean so close he was nearly touching Aibek to be heard.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Aibek’s grin widened. “Wait until we’re on the ground,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. “It’s too hard to talk up here.”

  The ground rushed toward them as they picked up speed, and Faruz fought a wave of dizzy nausea. Was the dragon going to stop? Surely it wouldn’t crash-land into the rocky ground below, right?

  As they reached the upper branches of the tall shadow trees, the dragon shifted its wings and slowed their descent. He landed with the slightest jolt and Faruz said a silent prayer of thanks. His knees wobbled when he slid down off the beast.

  Aibek grabbed his arm as soon as he stepped away from the dragon, pulling him toward the ancient tree at the center of the wide clearing where they had landed.

  Seeing the sleeping face, Faruz stopped and turned back toward the cover of the forest, pulling Aibek with him.

  “Let’s go. There’s no time.” Aibek tugged his arm, but Faruz stood his ground.

  “We will. First, tell me what’s going on.”

  Aibek sighed and tried to run a hand through wind-tangled hair. Frowning, he dropped his hand and met Faruz's confused gaze.

  “All right. The Bokinna warned me that Helak’s men were planning something. I wasn’t sure what exactly, so I snuck into your room last night and switched your pack for mine. The fruit is perfectly safe.”

  He grinned and held up the water-stained pack Faruz had carried through the stinking swamp, and Faruz couldn’t help but laugh. How had he not noticed the switch?

  “That’s brilliant! But why didn’t you tell me? I couldn’t believe it when you cut my pack off and tossed it to Helak’s men, but now it makes perfect sense.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the pack in Aibek’s hands.

  “You had to believe you had the fruit, or that trick wouldn’t have worked. They had to think I was giving them what they wanted so we could have a chance.”

  Faruz nodded. “I…That makes sense, I guess. What do we do now?”

  “I’m not sure.” Aibek shrugged. “I only planned to get to the dragons. The rest is up to her.”

  He strode toward the tree, leaving Faruz scrambling to keep up. He had pushed his leg past its limits today, and now it barely held his weight. The dozens of dragons landing around the clearing weren’t helping any, either. Zifa, Ahren, Hekma, Wayra, and Dalan stood between two smaller dragons, staring open-mouthed at the scene before them. Faruz didn’t blame them. He yearned to stop and gawk, too, but Aibek’s pace didn’t allow it. They walked up to the tree, close enough that he could have reached out a hand and stroked the rough bark.

  Aibek dropped to a knee, and Faruz followed. His eyes bulged when Aibek pulled the three fruits out of the pack and arranged them at the base of the ancient tree. Her eyes opened, and the difference between this tree and the willow in the swamp took his breath away. Where the Saethem had radiated disapproval, this being was the epitome of gentle compassion. Her expression was sweet but sleepy. Faruz wondered how the sisters had come to be so different.

  “You have returned.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

  Aibek waved to the violet fruits arranged on the ground. “We have brought you the fruit.”

  The tree’s expression shifted from compassion to joy.

  “Ah…That’s wonderful. You have a knife with you?”

  Without hesitation, Aibek pulled his hunting knife out of its sheath on his belt, holding it horizontally across his palms for her perusal.

  The scene unnerved Faruz. It was too similar to a story his mother had told him as a child, of a hero who had been forced to sacrifice his love to save his home.

  * * *

  Aibek held the knife up until his shoulders burned, waiting for instructions. His knees ached from kneeling, so he glanced up at the Bokinna's face. Her patient gaze watched Faruz's face, which contorted into a mask of horror and uncertainty. What was he afraid of?

  A long silence stretched, broken only by the occasional breeze. The birds and small animals had remained hushed since the dragons landed, and the peaceful noises of the forest had stopped entirely. It was as if time had stopped, and now the friends stood in a protected bubble with the ancient tree.

  “Take the fruit and the knife to the river. Cut the flesh from the fruit and mash it on a flat rock. Bring the mash and a full skin of water back to me. Protect the seeds and return quickly.”

  The words came in short bursts as if the ancient being was struggling to speak. Spurred to action, Aibek stood and sheathed his knife, gathered the fruits, and set out for the river.

  When they reached the rocky bank, he spotted a suitable stone. Its top was flat, and its rounded base reached almost to Aibek’s waist. Pulling out his knife, Aibek worked to follow the Bokinna’s instructions. The outer skin was tougher than it appeared, and it took several attempts to cut through it. Faruz and the others gathered around, watching his movements and staring into the churning water.

  The fruit had the texture of overripe squash and mashed easily once he'd removed the rind. He wrapped the skins with the marble-sized seeds in a clean cloth and tucked the package into his knapsack. He filled two water skins, gathered his supplies, and stopped.

  Aibek had made a mistake. How was he supposed to transport the pulverized fruit back to the clearing? The rock’s weight made it impossible for Aibek to move, and he doubted that all seven of them together would be able to shift it, let alone carry it into the forest. Several paces away, a hollow stone lay half in the water. Its small size and bowl shape would make it an ideal vessel to transport the fruit. He rinsed it in the swirling water and ran back to the table rock.

  “What are you doing?” Faruz met him at the rock, staring at the oddly-shaped stone in his hand.

  “Well, we can’t carry that.” He pointed to the boulder he had used to prepare the fruit. “And we need to get the fruit back to the clearing. This should do nicely, don’t you think?”

  Faruz examined the bowl-rock. “It has too many pits and divots. You’ll never get all the fruit out of that.”

  “Do you have any other ideas?” Aibek tamped down the irritation clawing at his insides. They would get ba
ck to the tree in time, but Faruz was right. The rock was pitted throughout, and the mashed fruit would stick in the tiny holes.

  “Spread out.” Faruz pointed to the others. “We need something that can carry this back to the clearing.

  Dalan frowned, not moving from his spot at the mouth of the trail. “I think I have something we can use.”

  He swung his pack to the ground and dug through it, producing an oblong wooden bowl. The hollowed-out portion was perfectly even, and Aibek ran his hand over the burnished surface. One end of the outer edge was smooth, but the rest was raw tree bark.

  “Where did you get this?”

  Dalan squared his shoulders and stood straighter. “I’ve been learning to carve. I can’t do anything like Ahren’s work, but I’ve worked on this during the long midnight watches.”

  “It’s perfect.” Aibek turned back to the fruit, scooping the pulp into the bowl while Faruz gathered the other travelers.

  Aibek kept his steps measured and his eyes on the trail. He wouldn’t risk spilling a single drop of the precious pulp. The walk took twice as long as the jaunt to the river.

  When he made it to the clearing, Aibek knelt before the Bokinna, holding the bowl of mashed fruit aloft.

  “Faruz, to your left, there is a heavy stick. Use it to dig a trench at least as deep as your fingers and as long as your arm.”

  Aibek strained to hear the whispered words, but Faruz scrambled to comply.

  When Faruz completed the trench, he stood and waited.

  “Pour the water into the trench.”

  Dalan stepped forward and filled the hole with the river water they had collected.

  “Now, pour the fruit in with the water.”

  Aibek rushed to obey. Using the flat edge of his knife, he scraped every drop of pulp into the trench, spreading it along the length of the hole.

  “Fill it back in, as if you’re planting a seed.”

  Dalan, Faruz, and Aibek worked together to fill in the trench, tamping it down like they would a garden seed.

  “Now, leave me be. I need time to absorb the fruit and recover from the poison.”

  Turning to leave, Aibek paused. He glanced back, noting the peaceful expression on the tree’s face.

  “Excuse me?” He kept his eyes down, ready to flee if she refused to answer.

  “Yes, child?” Her voice was patient, like a mother’s.

  “What do we do with the seeds and skin?”

  “Give the skin to Valasa to make a healing tincture. Keep the seeds. They will give you power if you’re in trouble, but be careful not to rely on them too heavily–they cannot be replaced.”

  Aibek nodded and turned to leave. The dragons had waited at the edge of the clearing, and he swung himself up onto Gworsad’s back before helping Faruz and Dalan up.

  * * *

  A strange, hollow numbness settled in Faruz's chest as he climbed onto the dragon. He should have felt overjoyed at the completion of his mission, and joy was undoubtedly one of the emotions swirling in him, but more than that he was exhausted. The past weeks had drained him of every iota of energy he possessed, and he still had to return to Nivaka and tell Amiran's wife that she was a widow.

  Aibek turned and glanced over his shoulder at Faruz. “How’d you do that, anyway? I haven’t seen you run that much since before the battle.”

  “Hmm? Oh. I guess the time I spent climbing and slogging through the mud must have helped strengthen my leg.” Faruz cocked his head, remembering the mad dash from the river to the dragons. Could that be the reason he was so tired? “You’re right though. I haven’t run a step in over a year before today. It felt good.”

  “Well, you did a good job.” Aibek clapped a hand on Faruz’s shoulder. “Congratulations. Now, we can only hope we weren’t too late. I wonder how long it will be before we know if it worked.”

  Faruz shook his head, thinking of Amiran. “I don’t know. Hopefully not long.”

  His eyes landed on Zifa, gracefully swinging herself onto the smaller dragon beside Gworsad. He couldn’t believe she’d married him. He grinned at the thrill as the dragon lifted off the ground, carrying the travelers toward Nivaka.

  Faruz leaned forward and shouted over the roar of the wind. “How did you know where to meet the dragons?”

  Pointing to his ears, Aibek shook his head and mouthed the word, “later.”

  Instead of pressing the issue, he stared at the turbulent water of the river below and out at the winter-bared forest. The bleakness of the landscape weighed heavily on his mind, and he hoped the forest would recover enough to turn green again in spring.

  He relaxed into the gentle undulations of dragon flight and dozed into a light sleep. He snored when Gworsad tilted his wings and descended toward the village. The rapid elevation change woke Faruz. With his head spinning and stomach churning, it was all he could do to keep his seat as the dragon dropped gracefully to the Square.

  Villagers rushed to meet them, and Faruz couldn’t help but wonder at their apparent comfort with the dragon landing on the boardwalk. Some stared, but others strolled around Gworsad as if he were a normal part of life here in the forest village.

  Faruz stepped toward the side of the Square where Kai, Zyanna, and their friends watched the commotion. Happiness and sorrow warred within his chest, threatening to overwhelm him until his thoughts–and his breath–were cut off by a crippling hug from the side.

  Valasa’s deafening voice rang through the forest. “Faruz! You did it then, didn’t you? I’m so happy to see you; we were so worried.”

  The towering Gadonu let go, took a step to the side, and swept Dalan up in a crushing embrace. Wayra rushed into his wife’s waiting arms, dodging the religious leader’s attempt to hug him too.

  Faruz searched the crowd for Amiran’s wife. She stood off to the right, watching the commotion with a worried expression. Faruz ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and walked over to her.

  “Where’s my husband?” She asked, searching the crowd and refusing to meet his gaze.

  “I’m sorry. Amiran was a hero. He died protecting the rest of us.” Faruz took her hand in his and pressed Amiran’s cloak clasp into her open palm.

  "No," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "No, this can't be." She backed away, shaking her head and sobbing until her family and friends surrounded her.

  Faruz watched her go through the tears blurring his vision. Amiran had been a good man, and his widow deserved more than a tarnished clasp. Swallowing around the painful lump in his throat, Faruz turned to Zifa, relishing the warmth of her in his arms.

  When the dragons had taken off again, and the friends had greeted their families, the council retreated to the sitting room in Valasa's home. Aibek stood at the front of the room and addressed the council, while Faruz sat beside Zifa on the sofa. He held her hand, distracted by the smooth skin of her arm. He had been gone far too long.

  “Isn’t that right, Faruz?” Aibek, along with the rest of the council, stared at Faruz, waiting for the answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

  “I’m sorry.” He flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t hear the question.”

  Laughter erupted, and Faruz grinned back. He had never been one to shy away from a joke, and he suspected he'd been the butt of this one.

  Once he had gained control of his laughter, Aibek met Faruz's gaze. "I was just saying we should keep this short since you're likely in a hurry to get home."

  Faruz couldn’t resist a glance at Zifa’s face and laughed at her crimson blush. He had never seen her quite that shade of red. Squeezing her hand, he grinned. “Yes, you’re right. I would like to get home as soon as possible.” He adopted a forced air of military professionalism. “What is the first item on the agenda?”

  His friends laughed again, and Faruz laughed along, though he couldn’t shake the melancholy image of Amiran’s widow from his mind. He squeezed Zifa’s hand once more and told the story of his journey to the swamp. The room grew quiet
when he spoke of Amiran’s efforts to save them from the serpents and his death, and Faruz rushed through the rest of the story. He recounted everything until the night they left the swamp.

  Aibek took over from there, telling of the attack on the plain and their flight into the forest, and explained how he had used his newfound ability to communicate with the Bokinna to summon the dragons to the stream. That’s why he had kept his eyes closed while he twirled his weapon overhead: he was concentrating on the ancient tree’s words.

  The meeting was brief, and soon Faruz found himself strolling down the boardwalk toward home with his bride. He really shouldn't have left her so quickly after their wedding, but the journey had been good for him.

  29

  Revival

  Eddrick kept his eyes glued to Glesni's transparent back, lest he lose sight of him in the crowds at the gate. A jolt of shock shot through him when the masses moved aside, and the demon-guards waved them through without a pause. Inside the city, they raced along the bustling streets until they reached Ghindamia Hall. Glesni yanked open the door and led them down a narrow hallway to an empty chamber. There, in the center of the room, the other ancients floated a foot off the floor. Glesni approached without slowing. He stopped in front of the tall spirit.

  Keeping an arm around Kiri, Eddrick stayed near the door. Agommi followed Glesni but stopped before he reached the other ancients. They stood waiting until Eddrick’s wild breathing returned to normal. Questions raced through his mind. What–or rather who–had been in that box? Helak had spoken to it tenderly, as if it were someone he loved. His words echoed through Eddrick’s thoughts.

  "The forest is dying." He had said that as if it were a good thing. Clearly, Helak believed that the forest could somehow bring his loved one back to life. Could it? Eddrick couldn't ignore the implications in his own case. But no, he had been dead for two decades, and his body had been incinerated in a pyre. Surely there had to be a body to resurrect for something like that to work, right?