by Sam Farren
I headed straight for the dragon-bone gate at the at the entrance of Kyrindval, making my way into the fields beyond in search of Kouris. A few young pane were playing nearby, chasing around a goat and then letting it chase them, laughing delightedly every time it rammed its head into their legs. Kouris watched from atop a rock, reminding them to be careful. The goat had far bigger horns than the two of them put together.
I'd little doubt that tales of Queen Kouris were as popular in Kyrindval as they were in Felheim, and though the young pane in all likelihood had been warned against turning out like her time and time again, they had no idea that the woman on the rock had stepped straight out of a story. And why should they: Queen Kouris was dead, and Zentha gained nothing in setting the record straight.
“Morning, yrval,” Kouris called.
Having spent the night staring into the warmth of a tribe she couldn't set foot in hadn't done anything to dampen her spirits.
“Morning,” I said, taking her hand and letting her pull me atop the rock. The young pane lost interest in the goat and stared up at me, and the goat lost interest in the pane and went back to chewing the long grass. “Looks like I have a place to stay and something to do. Zentha says it's alright if I help the pane learn Canthian and Mesomium.”
“That'll be a change of pace for you,” Kouris said, waving off the young pane when they kept staring, “Reckon you won't be half bad at it, either.”
I slumped against her side, not holding onto my smile for long.
“I'm really sorry about Iseul, Kouris,” I said. “I wish I could tell you what happened to him at the end, but it made as much sense to you as it did to me. Maybe Kondo-Kana would know...”
“It's not so much the end that's troubling me. That sort of release... well, it's what he needed. Problem is, I can't stop thinking about how much they put him through. He was there for decades, yrval. Longer than you've been alive. If he'd only stayed in Canth with me,” she murmured. “He was just so eager to get back home. Never did like the sun much.”
“Gods. No wonder they never executed necromancers in Felheim,” I said, astonished that I'd once believed Kastelir treated us worse than my homeland. “If they executed them, people would want to watch, and they'd really have to kill them. They wouldn't be able to use them.”
There had to be more necromancers involved, somehow. I'd met two in as many years and hadn't even been looking; surely the King and Queen could find dozens of them with a whole Kingdom on edge, ready to turn against a necromancer at the slightest provocation.
“What are you going to do now? You can't sit here staring at Kyrindval forever, and you know Kidira's safe,” I said.
“Reckon I ought to be finding some way to do right by the pane,” Kouris said, slowly. I could tell she'd mulled it over, and more than once. “When I say all I've ever tried to do is help the pane, there's nothing but truth in that. I've just not gone about it in the best way, in the past. But maybe I can do something that won't make 'em turn their backs on me.
“What with Kastelir being taken apart, I was thinking... what's to stop me doing what I can to reclaim our land? The humans haven't even been using most of it. They just don't want us down there. Suppose I should be heading back to Orinhal, where I can be of use.”
I looked up at her, a little proud.
“As long as you can find a way to do it without putting a sword through anyone, I think the pane would appreciate that,” I said. “... are you still angry at me? About Oak?”
“Now, yrval,” Kouris began, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me onto her knee. “I was never angry. Not at all. Just being back in Kastelir – or what's left of it – reminded me of all I'd done wrong, and I wasn't thinking clearly. Wasn't being fair about things. I know you did nothing wrong.”
“Because you saw how useful Oak is,” I said flatly.
“Because I know you'd never do anything to hurt anyone,” Kouris replied without missing a beat. “Not if you could help it. I got ahead of myself, that's all. I was stuck in a past that wasn't even mine.”
Sighing, I knelt in her lap, and pressed my lips against her cheek. Kouris wouldn't have been the first pane to pick up a sword if she didn't have such a short temper, from time to time, but I'd been unkind to her in the past, too, and I knew she had no intention of ever repeating her actions.
Not needing to tell her that I didn't want her to leave but wouldn't stop her from doing what she had to, I tucked myself against her side, taking in the view of the mountains all around. Only the tallest were dusted with more than a sprinkling of snow at their very peaks, and as the dragons slumbered deep within the mountains, fledgling birds practised swooping from branch to branch.
The landscape was timeless, unobstructed, until Akela came running into view, waving her arms above her head.
CHAPTER XXI
“Northwood! Kouris!” Akela called, voice bouncing between the mountains.
The stomping of her boots was almost enough to wake the dragons. She skidded to a stop in front of us, dropped her axe to the ground and placed her hands on her knees as she leant forward, gasping for breath. I'd only ever seen her cheerfully exhausted before and jumped out of Kouris' lap, not missing the dried blood splattered across the blade of her axe.
“What is it?” I asked, grabbing her shoulders and helping her stand up straight. “Has something happened to Orinhal?”
“Yes. No. It is...” Akela placed her hands on the small of her back, puffing out a heavy breath towards the sky. “I am running alongside a pane, I am not being made for this.”
Kouris slipped off the rock, handing Akela the waterskin hanging at her hip.
She wanted to know what had happened – or hadn't happened, as the case may have been – as much as I did, but remained silent as Akela fumbled to get the cap off the waterskin, tilting it back and ending up with water escaping the corners of her mouth, running down her chin.
“Ah. That's better, yes,” she said, wiping the water from her mouth. “The town I am going to investigate, it is a trap. We are returning to Orinhal and Rylan, he is there. He is claiming the city for himself.”
“How do you take a city like Orinhal?” Kouris asked, growling from the back of her throat.
“You are having a bigger army, and you are also taking a dragon,” Akela said, teeth grinding together. “And are you knowing what the worst thing is? He is saying that he is there to help, that Ightham, she is committing crimes against the crown in Felheim, and this is why she is spreading rumours about his intentions. And people, they are believing this! After all that Ightham is doing for them, they are taking that man's word!”
“What about Claire? Where is she?” I asked, gripping Akela's arm.
Claire had been through too much already. If Prince Rylan had taken her along with Orinhal, I was ready to storm down there with a dragon of my own.
Akela tilted her head towards her axe.
“There are riots, of course. I am having to cut my way through Rylan's soldiers, but I am reaching the tower, and Sen, she is helping Ightham escape. Right now, they are making their way up the mountain. I am running ahead and making sure all is safe here.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, turning on the spot.
“Okay, okay. Claire's coming here? To Kyrindval?” I said, barely having had the chance to start missing her. “We should tell Zentha or whoever's in charge. If Rylan's after her, then nothing's going to stop the Felheimish getting up the mountain.”
There went my plans of settling into Kyrindval in my own time. I hadn't yet secured a place to stay and already trouble had found its way to the tribe, as if it had been hot on my heels all along. I did what I could not to make it all about me. I reminded myself that Kyrindval had long since had ties to Claire, that I couldn't be blamed for what Prince Rylan had chosen to do.
Claire was safe, and that was what mattered. Orinhal might've been taken, but the city remained and its inhabitants didn't have to face fire once again
.
“Go ahead,” Kouris said. “I'll keep an eye out for 'em.”
Akela left her bloodied axe behind, not wanting to alarm the pane. Exhausted though she was, I had to jog to keep up with her wide strides. The streets were busier than they had been when I left, and Akela weaved between the pane, lodge fixed firmly in her sights. I mumbled apologies for the both of us, doing what I could to avoid being stepped on, and made it to the lodge a few paces behind Akela.
The queue had died down, but a few stragglers remained around the doors, debating whether they actually wanted to trouble any of the pane within. Akela made straight for the door but the pane standing there held out a hand, informing her she had to wait her turn like everyone else.
Not understanding a word of it, Akela said, “What? I am needing to speak with Zentha, yes, and it is more important than anything these pane are coming to say.”
The pane similarly didn't understand what Akela was saying. I stepped forward, about to translate for them both, when the pane's ears perked up. Hearing someone approach, she moved to the side to let them pass, and all urgency deserted Akela as Kidira stepped out of the lodge.
She was distracted, busy sorting through the scrolls she'd put into her bag, and near enough walked into Akela as she pulled the straps tight.
Kidira clicked her tongue, about to ensure whoever had blocked her path never made the same mistake again, but when she looked up, all the hardness and spite etched into her bones was filed away until I barely recognised her. She didn't blink, didn't breathe, but it was like watching the wind relinquish its strength.
“... Commander,” she managed after a long moment, and none missed the way she was forced to swallow the lump in her throat first.
Akela let out a heavy breath, hands forming fists, releasing, reaching for Kidira.
She didn't get that far.
Falling to her knees, Akela placed her hands on Kidira's hips, her forehead against her stomach.
“My Queen,” she murmured, clinging on tighter when Kidira's hands found their way to her shoulders, the back of her head. “... I am home.”
Kidira stared down at the top of Akela's head, fingers twisting in her hair, ponytail coming loose.
“I am no Queen,” she said gently, cupping Akela's face and guiding her back to her feet. “Do not kneel before me.”
Akela laughed, and the sound trickled into my chest.
“And I, I am no Commander.”
Bowing her head, Akela kissed Kidira's forehead, eyes closing as though they need never open again.
“Akela,” Kidira said, correcting herself.
“Kidira,” Akela said in turn.
Hands still cupping Akela's face, Kidira brushed her thumbs beneath her eyes and drew her close, bringing their lips together. Akela placed one hand against the back of Kidira's head, and I shoved my hands into my pockets, kicking a loose rock and watching it tumble towards the fire pit. The pane who'd been guarding the door caught my eye and laughed mutely.
“... what are you doing here?” Kidira said, letting me know it was safe to turn back around. She was standing away from Akela, as though the distance between them had never been breached. “I was about to leave for Orinhal.”
Akela moved away from joy, face greying as she shook her head.
“Orinhal, it is standing, but I am having to flee here, I am having to bring Ightham and Sen,” Akela said. “Come, come. Zentha, they are needing to know what news I am bringing, so that Kyrindval is remaining safe.”
“Rylan?” Kidira asked coldly, turning back towards the lodge.
“Rylan,” Akela confirmed, and the pane at the door knew better than to tell Kidira she had to get in line.
“Zentha. We need to talk. Now,” Kidira said, stood in the centre of the lodge. “Everyone else. Out.”
Not a single pane thought twice about questioning Kidira. Chair legs scraped across the floor as the pane rose to their feet, tea left to go cold, biscuits gathered up on the way out. A few of them looked towards Zentha, aware of what discussions with Kidira brought, these days, and Zentha gestured for them to be on their way.
“You don't have to snap out orders like that, Kidira,” Zentha said, pushing the plate of biscuits towards her when she rested her hands on the edge of the table. “They'll listen to you regardless.”
“There isn't any time for niceties,” Kidira stated. There was, apparently, time for biscuits. She bit into one as though it were somebody's throat. “Claire's on her way, along with Sen. Rylan has Orinhal.”
Akela was busy dragging chairs over for what was soon to be the five of us, but Kidira refused to take a seat. Zentha sighed, dragged a hand across their face, unaware of how they'd managed to become so entangled with little friends and their troubling penchant for war.
“Akela, explain what happened,” Kidira said as Akela made herself comfortable.
I put a hand on the arm of my chair, considered pulling myself into it, but ultimately headed over to the doors in order to keep an eye out for Sen and Claire. Akela hadn't encountered any problems on her way up the mountain, but I hadn't been so lucky; the soldiers wouldn't have stopped looking for me just because I'd jumped, and all within the Felheimish army would've recognised Claire from her burns alone, had they not known her in her past life.
“Ightham, she is receiving word that the Felheimish, they are targeting another city. One of the cities that is not being touched by the dragons, not yet. This is happening quite often, yes? Orinhal is being built up and up because Ightham, she is sending troops and they are liberating the cities and the people, and where they are wanting to go, that is up to them.
“Three hundred of us are heading straight into a trap. We are not losing many soldiers, of course, but we are losing time. We are back in Orinhal, and already it is almost too late. There is a dragon outside, and Prince Rylan, like a gutless weasel, he is writhing through the streets, spreading his lies, saying that Orinhal, it is safe, if Claire is surrendering.
“And so we are running. We are coming here.”
“Lies?” Zentha asked. “And what of the dragon?”
“Yes, yes, lies. Rylan, he is saying that Ightham, she is wrong. The Felheimish are not controlling the dragons, they are not sending them to fight. Rather, they are taming the dragons, they are stopping them from spreading more fire, more chaos. And that it is Ightham who is opposing this, who is wanting Kastelir to suffer longer, so that Felheim is punished. Because she is a traitor,” Akela said, teeth grinding together. “I am not knowing what is becoming of the dragon. I am thinking it is subdued. Shackled, perhaps.”
I pushed myself up on tiptoes and gripped the side of the door, but there was no sign of Sen and Claire in the crowd. Kouris would've started making her way down the mountain, by now. If there was trouble, she'd dispatch of it in a way Sen never could.
“I'm truly sorry for what's happened and outraged by Felheim's continued mistreatment of the dragons, but I don't know what you expect of me, Kidira,” Zentha said. “Claire is welcome to stay here for as long as she needs to, of course. You all are. But beyond that, I cannot aid you.”
“What I want is to know that the pane are willing to defend themselves, should the Felheimish march on Kyrindval,” Kidira said. “I know you will never fight, and I will not ask you to. But if enough pane gather, a growl alone will be enough to send most soldiers running.”
Zentha shook their head slowly, and I saw time slip back decades; I saw Kouris pleading her case to Zentha, begging them to help stop the slaughter of pane all across Asar.
“We are not inclined to war, to violence,” Zentha reminded her. “I understand that Kouris was your introduction to the pane, but Kouris was our introduction to humanity; none here could bring themselves to act as savage beasts living high up in the mountains, no matter what your people may believe.”
Kidira brought a fist down on the table but made no reply.
At the very end of the street, a shock of red hair flickered into
view. The pane going about their business stepped to the side, letting Claire and Sen pass. I hurried to meet her halfway, but Claire didn't turn towards me. She kept her gaze fixed forward, bringing her cane down as though she intended to split Bosma in two.
“Are you both alright?” I asked. “Akela told me as much as she could.”
“I do not believe we were followed into the mountains,” Claire said, stepping far too heavily on her bad leg. “But that is not to say they will not think to look for me here.”
Sen shared my concern, but there was no telling Claire to slow down. They had only made it up the mountain because Sen had carried her, and we needed to let her walk the rest of her way for her own sake, no matter how she suffered for it.
Sen had brought what she could from Orinhal with her. Three bags were slung over one of her shoulders – the one I'd brought Claire's things in amongst them – and when I put a hand on her arm, it took all her willpower not to lean against me.
Kidira greeted Claire at the entrance of the lodge, and I closed the door behind me, lingering there for a moment.
Claire and Kidira were already deep in conversation, speaking purely of what had happened, not needing to voice concern or sympathy for one another. Sen placed the bags on the floor and pulled out a chair for Claire. As I watched them gather around, I saw the way things had been for a long time; I saw the bonds that had been forged in the two years I'd been away.
I hadn't wanted to leave Claire, hadn't wanted to be away from her again, but I didn't want to see her again at such a cost.
She'd poured all she had left into Orinhal and she'd been driven out in a matter of hours. Her people had even turned against her.
“Claire. I'm sorry to meet you again under such circumstances,” Zentha said, and I quietly stepped forward, taking a seat behind the group. Kidira had resigned herself to sitting along with the others, and she glanced back at me, holding my gaze for a second longer than I could bear without shuffling in my seat. “If you weren't aware that you were always welcome here, you wouldn't have come. I've already explained to Kidira that the pane aren't likely to change their way of life overnight, but nobody wants the dragons freed more than we do.”
