The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  The clanging of steel and the cries of the wounded filled the air. Bodies lay everywhere, forgotten where they’d fallen in the fury of battle. The stench of blood and death made Eddrick retch, and he gave silent thanks to the trees that he couldn’t eat anymore. None of the faces stood out in the crowd. Eddrick didn’t know these people, but his heart ached for them.

  They fought their invaders with desperate energy, but a heavy sense of resignation hung over the scene. They were losing. They couldn’t overcome these men whose eyes glowed green, who fought harder and stronger when they should have fallen.

  A messenger wearing a stained white shirt and pale green pants splattered with blood ran through the throng. Eddrick strained to hear the words he screamed over and over.

  “The king is dead! We have fallen! The new lord says surrender or die!”

  “No.” Eddrick grabbed Kiri and Glesni, closed his eyes, and transported them to the great marble palace at the center of the city.

  Corpses littered the ground near the wide steps. Blood and excrement ran down the usually majestic entry.

  Helak’s men stood guard at the door. The few remaining city guards knelt before their captors, allowing the mountain men to tie their arms behind their backs.

  “There’s nothing more to see here.” Glesni grasped Eddrick’s arm, but Eddrick couldn’t meet his eyes.

  Instead, he gazed at the faded beige hair atop the spirit’s pale face. “Let’s go.”

  They held each other’s hands and flew back to Eddrick and Kiri’s home. The cheerful decor wrenched Eddrick’s heart as his mind lingered on the last glimpse he’d had of his brother.

  Glesni broke the silence. “We need to tell your son what’s happened.”

  “All right. Let’s go.” Eddrick hung his head but held out his hands. The wind ruffled his hair as the magic took them to Nivaka.

  Aibek stood with a group staring up at the crumbling supports at the south cistern, debating the best way to repair them with the forest’s gentle movement. The trees had arranged their roots to move the earth beneath the cisterns along with the village, but that slight shift had worsened the cracks in the supports.

  Eddrick floated above the crowd, between Aibek and the supports, trying desperately to get his son’s attention. When the young mayor finally looked up, his eyes widened. Eddrick mouthed the words, “We need to talk. Now.”

  He waited impatiently as Aibek excused himself and hurried back into the village. Eddrick and Kiri waited for him in the meditation room — which had once been their bedroom. Glesni and Agommi hovered nearby, invisible to the living.

  Time crept by. Eddrick watched the shadows of the barren branches dance across the window and rehearsed his warning in his mind.

  At last, the door swung open and Aibek stepped in. Faruz followed him, and Eddrick smiled. He couldn’t have chosen a better friend for his son if he’d tried.

  “Father? Are you here?” Aibek lit the lamps and settled into a carved wooden chair before the bare table.

  Eddrick concentrated on making his substance more visible in the afternoon light. “I’m here. And so is your mother.”

  “What’s wrong? You’ve never called me away from a meeting before. You look worried.”

  Eddrick sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this. Xona has fallen.”

  A chair clattered against the floor, forgotten, as Faruz leapt to his feet. Aibek sucked in an audible breath and leaned closer across the table.

  “And my uncle?” Aibek whispered.

  Eddrick shook his head. “I don’t know. We were called away before I could see how he fared.”

  “Who did this?” Faruz paced the floor, grabbing for his absent sword every few steps.

  “It’s Helak, isn’t it? That’s why you saw what happened.” Fear, fury, and grief warred in Aibek’s eyes, and Eddrick wished he could offer words of comfort.

  “Of course it is,” Kiri cried. “It was horrible. The ancients wouldn’t let us help them.” Her face screwed up as if in a sob, but her immortal spirit couldn’t produce tears.

  “We need to gather the council.” Faruz stepped toward the door. “We have to send help to Xona.”

  “Please be careful.” Kiri floated to her son and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know you have to go, but please stay as safe as you can.”

  “I promise,” Aibek said gravely. He followed Faruz into the hall and out of the house, and Eddrick closed his eyes.

  He concentrated hard on his brother, searching for that familiar spark. Only emptiness echoed back.

  * * *

  Aibek paced in Valasa’s upstairs sitting room and waited for the rest of the council members to arrive.

  “Of course, we won’t be able to keep this a secret for long,” Faruz blurted out.

  “I know. But the council needs to discuss it and make some decisions before we let everyone else know.”

  Long minutes passed as they waited. Aibek worried about his aunt and uncle and assumed Faruz was thinking about his own family. Long moments passed, the only sound the crackling of the fire on the hearth and the clicking of boots against the wood floor. Neither man had stopped to change into the normal zontrec slippers when they’d left the forest floor. Some small corner of Aibek’s mind registered the concern that he might scuff the floor, but bigger concerns kept his attention.

  The door banged open and Aibek jerked his head toward the sound. Valasa strode into the room and the rest of the council members followed. Aibek hadn’t told Valasa what they’d learned. He’d just asked the Gadonu to gather the council for an emergency meeting. Now all eyes focused on Aibek, mingled worry and curiosity shining in their expressions.

  Aibek didn’t wait for Valasa to open the meeting. Instead, he began before the others had taken their seats.

  “I’ve gotten some distressing news, and we need to agree on how best to react before the word gets out.” No one spoke, so he continued. “Helak’s army has attacked Xona.”

  A chorus of gasps filled the room, but Aibek didn’t give them a chance to recover. “Xona’s army couldn’t hold, and the king is dead. Helak now holds the most important city in the land.”

  Silence stretched until Zifa stood. “Clearly, we have to do something. We can’t just sit here and wait to be next.”

  “She’s right,” Dalan said from his spot on the worn, green sofa. “We should gather a division to send to help Xona.”

  Faruz shook his head. “Were you paying attention last month when I told you about Xona’s history? It’s impossible to take the city from outside those walls. Helak had to have snuck his men inside before they attacked. An army isn’t the answer.”

  “Then what? Zifa’s right.” Ahren slapped her palms on her purple-clad knees. Her white hair hung loose, strands sticking to her sweaty face. “We can’t just wait for them to show up here next.”

  “I’ve given this some thought, and I asked the forest while I waited.” Aibek took a deep breath. “I think we should send a few of the stronger dragon riders north to see what’s happening. They can get there faster than an army division, anyway. If I go with them, I can communicate with you through the trees and Valasa.”

  Wayra made a face and shook his head. “But we need the dragons here to protect the forest! What if Helak’s trying to pull our army away so he can take the forest unopposed?”

  “You’re right, of course,” Aibek said. “I’m not suggesting we take the entire force. Just a handful of dragon riders who can get there quickly and assess the situation.”

  Faruz nodded. “We can get a ground division together to follow you, so you’ll have backup if fighting breaks out. Maybe about half the army? Or is that too much?”

  A great debate ensued, and the council spent the rest of the afternoon discussing exactly how many fighters they should send north. On the one hand, they had to make sure they had enough people to defend the forest. On the other, Xona was the government seat for Azalin, and the center of the land’s infrastructure
. They couldn’t leave it in Helak’s hands.

  At the end of it all, they agreed to send half the dragons and half the army to Xona, though worries about the weather couldn’t be completely ignored.

  When the meeting ended, Aibek turned to Faruz. “I’ll do my best to find out about your parents and send word as soon as I get there.”

  Faruz nodded but said nothing.

  With the first blush of dawn, Aibek climbed onto Gworsad’s back and flew to the Heart of the Forest to consult with the Bokinna — and to find Serik. The heavy weight of grief nearly crushed him, even as the dragon lifted him into the sky. Serik couldn’t possibly still be alive, not with the injuries he’d sustained. And his aunt and uncle were likely dead as well, since they wouldn’t have hidden in their home when the fighting erupted. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to convince himself the tears on his cheeks were due to the cold wind in his eyes.

  Gworsad set him down gently in the Bokinna’s clearing, and Aibek kept his eyes closed.

  He sat like that for a long while, until a cold wind blew across him. He shivered.

  “Are you well, child?” The Bokinna’s voice drifted to him on the breeze.

  Finally, Aibek opened his eyes and scanned the clearing. It was empty. No leaves littered the ground. No logs stacked beside the great tree. No Serik.

  “Wh— Where is he?”

  “He is where he belongs. Worry no more about him.”

  Aibek took a breath, prepared to argue for more information. He thought better of it and released the breath in a huff. He couldn’t deny a sense of relief at not having to transport Serik’s body back to the village.

  “Madam Bokinna.” His voice quavered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Madam Tree, we need your help. Our enemies have taken the city in the north, where all the land’s infrastructure and armies are centered.”

  “And now you wish to take my protectors north to fight for this foreign city.”

  “Not all of them.” Aibek knelt before the ancient being. “I ask your permission to take half of the dragons who have been training with our fighters. The other half and all the unridden dragons would remain here to keep you and the forest safe from the enemy’s other army.”

  “What will you do to protect my loved ones in the barren north?”

  “I’ve thought about that at length, Madam.” Aibek tugged at a stray blade of grass. “I would keep them hidden by traveling only at night and hide them in the mines and quarries north of the city. There’s ample food there for them, and they’ll be out of sight of any people there.”

  “And how will they communicate with me? My strength does not reach that far.”

  “I had hoped to be able to reach either you or the Saethem from outside the city, but if that’s impossible, I will send my father’s spirit to Valasa to give you messages.” Aibek frowned. “Or can you talk to him directly? I’m not sure how that works.”

  “I can speak with spirits, if they appear to me, though it has been many hundreds of years since any have. The ones who are here are certainly welcome to speak to me.”

  Aibek’s eyes opened wide as his father, his mother, and two other spirits materialized from the morning mist.

  “I beg your pardon, Madam,” Eddrick said. “We meant no disrespect. I am Eddrick, Aibek’s father, and this is my wife, Kiri.”

  “I know who you are, my child. I know all of the mayors of my villages. But who is the other young man?”

  Glesni blinked, clearly astounded to be addressed as a young man. “I am Glesni, representative of the Council of the Ancients. I am honored to be in your presence. My superiors are telling me I should kneel before one as great as yourself.” He shrunk, hovering an inch above the low grass.

  “What say you to Aibek’s plan to travel to the city?”

  No one answered. The spirits looked to each other and back to the great tree.

  “Eddrick, answer please.” The Bokinna’s voice had a sharper edge than Aibek had ever heard from her.

  “I think it is wise, Madam. The supplies available in the city could be used to destroy this forest.”

  “Very well. My protectors will go with you. Time is short. You must leave as soon as darkness falls.”

  Aibek bowed low. “Thank you. May I—” He broke off, unsure, then tried once more. “Is Serik alive, Madam Tree? I— I need to know.”

  “I told you already, he is where he needs to be. Now, be off. I need rest, and you must prepare for a long journey.”

  The spirits evaporated, and Aibek stood. He wished she would at least tell him if Serik was dead or alive but pushing for more information didn’t seem wise. Instead, he climbed onto Gworsad’s back, tied the straps around his legs, and let the dragon carry him home.

  Once inside the village, he had Valasa send messages to the other villages. Half the dragon riders needed to be ready to leave at twilight. That done, he hurried home to pack for the trip and rest before what was sure to be an arduous night.

  Faruz hovered nearby as he tossed his linen and leather travel clothes into his knapsack. “I wish I could go with you, but I think one of us needs to stay to help the others train with the dragons.”

  “Of course, you’re right.” Aibek kept his eyes on the extra blanket he was folding. “And they respect you after all the work you’ve done building and training armies for Nivaka and the other villages. You’ll send a ground division within the week?”

  “They’ll leave within the next two days,” Faruz said, nodding. “A few dragons will give you an edge, but they won’t be enough to take or hold the city.”

  “I’ll send word as soon as I know anything about our families, good or bad.”

  Faruz nodded again but said nothing. His friend’s uncharacteristic silence worried Aibek, but there wasn’t time to press the matter. When he’d finished packing, he said a final farewell — knowing full well it may be the last time he ever saw his best friend. Battles couldn’t be predicted, and this one didn’t look good for the villagers.

  Queen Idril answered Aibek’s note within an hour. She expressed gratitude for the offer but declined to send any of the groundfolk along on the journey north. Aibek had hoped for exactly that response, and he smiled as he read the missive.

  Grief, loss, and fear weighed on Aibek, and he finally gave in and drank Valasa’s vile sleeping potion. He would need rest if he was to stay on the dragon through the night.

  Just before sunset, the dragons gathered their riders in the clearing by the stream. Several additional dragons had volunteered to carry riders after the first practice, so they now had nearly forty. Twelve dragons drank from the stream while their riders wound the zontrec straps around them. Nervous chatter filled the air.

  Marah sidled up beside Aibek. “I hope you don’t mind, I volunteered to come along.”

  Overwhelmed with the details of traveling with such a large group of dragons, Aibek didn’t answer.

  “I’ve never been outside the forest besides the trip to Kainga for the Grand Council.”

  A tiny quiver in her voice made Aibek look up from his notes. “I’d love to have you along, but you don’t have to come.” He hoped his voice sounded gentle.

  “No, I want to. I’m just…” She trailed off, the rest of the sentence hanging between them.

  Aibek turned to face her. Unbidden, thoughts of her kisses filled his mind, followed by the image of a broken and bleeding Serik. “Look, I—” He bit his tongue. It wasn’t her fault he’d let her distract him during practice. He tried again. “I can’t promise to be able to keep you safe. You’re the best sniper we’ve got, but I don’t want you to feel pressured into coming.”

  “No one’s pressured me, or even asked.” She paused, tugging at the scarf covering her wild blond curls. “I just want to be able to stay close to you. Would that be all right?”

  A tiny smile tugged at the edges of Aibek’s mouth. “Yes,” he said without thinking. “I think I’d like that.”

  Appa
rently satisfied, she turned back to her dragon and worked at securing her pack to the straps. Aibek did the same, shoving aside the stab of guilt. Serik wouldn’t want him to turn away from her, right? He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d keep his mind on his work whether she was nearby or not.

  Dozens of elves and dwarves emerged from the forest when the sun set, but none moved to attack the preparing force. They kept their weapons sheathed and strapped to their backs, but never took their eyes from the villagers and their dragons.

  Aibek waited until it was almost completely dark and Koviom’s pale light hovered at the treetops before he gave the command to mount up. Moments later, twelve dragons took to the skies. They flew northeast, away from the villages that dotted the river and far from the many eyes in Kainga. The dragons chirped and rumbled to each other until they passed the forest’s edge. Their sudden silence sent a chill through Aibek, though he had worried they’d alert anyone below with their conversation.

  Plains, fields, pastures, and rivers passed below them, illuminated by the moons’ watery light. Aibek watched it all, remembering the walk south from Xona and wondering what he’d find when he arrived. Memories of Ira, Noral, and Serik filled his mind, and he wept out the grief of their likely deaths.

  They flew without stopping for several hours, until one of the smaller dragons signaled for a break. They landed in a narrow valley between hills, where a pebbled stream would provide water and perhaps a snack for the dragons.

  Aibek stretched, yawned, and pulled off his heavy gloves. He bent to refill his water skin in the frigid water. The night had grown cold, and the icy stream flowing over his hands took his breath away.

  He avoided talking to anyone, afraid his hoarse voice and tear-reddened eyes would betray the depth of his emotion. Thankfully, no one came near. Each rider stretched, walked, ate, and drank without speaking to the others. Aibek climbed the tallest hill so he could watch the others and see if any bandits approached. He glanced up at the untold numbers of stars in the sky and watched the three moons make their journey toward the horizon.