by S Kaeth
Contents
Frontispiece
Copyright
A Map of Rinara
Title
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Interlude
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Terminology
Acknoweldgements
About the Author/Other Books By SKaeth
Copyright © 2020 S. Kaeth
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by:
Hakea Media
1425 Seippel Road
Dubuque, IA 52002
[email protected]
www.hakeamedia.com
Print ISBN: 978-1-7333281-3-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7333281-4-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020903061
First Edition
Cover by Dave Brasgalla
https://www.davidbrasgalla.art
Author’s website: www.skaeth.com
Content Warning:
Includes descriptions of combat, drugging, imprisonment, domestic abuse, children in peril, and animals in peril.
A Map of Rinara
Runasarre’afeithen
Between Starfalls
Book One of Children of the Nexus
by S. Kaeth
To my boys. Never let the world dim your light.
AETHA
Chapter One
The Rinaryns believe they were created by the smallest spirit during a contest of creative ability. According to their legends, this event also produced such wildlife as toelfas, tserworas, zeriys, and tailosaes; such sentient races as the fae, elves, and of course the viperous dragons; and the mythical Kamalti beneath the mountains, which the Rinaryns refer to as their brother race.
While their true origins are undoubtedly a great deal more mundane than creation-by-spirit, the Rinaryns themselves are less than extraordinary overall. They are bipeds, a little smaller on average than humans, and a great deal lighter in build (I expect they have hollow bones). They have round faces and brown skin, and their hair tends to be black or brown, although children can have golden-blond hair that often darkens as they age. Their eyes are typically brown but can also be blue or grey. Their one extraordinary detail is that a small percentage of them have wings, resulting in six limbs rather than four. I would love to study them further, but the aeneshenon, as they call the winged Rinaryns, are quite rare and very seldom am I fortunate enough to encounter them. According to their legends, when the Rinaryns were created, all had wings.
—journal excerpt
Rain beaded off Kaemada’s nose and dripped onto the sodden leaves littering the forest floor. Straining her ears, she moved forward, careful to prevent even a single leaf movement from betraying her presence.
“Where is he?” Ra’ael muttered ahead of her.
“Quiet,” hissed Takiyah. “Do you want him to hear us?”
Kaemada grimaced. Yet another argument, and she lacked the patience to deal with it. It didn’t help that they were soaked through. They’d all grown snappish through the morning’s challenge, and the typical verbal battles between Takiyah and Ra’ael had become nearly constant. As she twisted her foot to avoid a fallen branch in her path, her big toe throbbed in protest. She’d jammed it tripping over her son’s wooden wagon toy while leaving in the grey dawn light, still sleepy from being up half the night helping her cousin soothe a colicky baby. Stifling a yawn, she breathed deep, as if she could pull more alertness from the forest around her. It seemed the spirits planned a difficult tune for her today.
At least the rain, which had fallen all morning, had slowed. Kaemada glanced to her right, meeting a pair of yellow eyes. Tannevar shook out his fur and trotted ahead, a grey shadow in the wood.
The three women crept through the underbrush, their steps as silent as the wolf’s. The trees surrounded them, muting sounds while displaying every shade of yellow, orange, and red imaginable. Rowoods, cha’awoods, píewoods, elderwoods, and broadleafs stretched for the autumn sun. The lofty treetops drew her heart, but no matter how hard she worked, her story seemed destined to remain one of the ferns sprawling across the forest floor. She needed to either grow or leave the team to avoid tripping them up. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back before either of the other women could notice.
Birds flitted about their business, and tailosaen hung from branches, scolding the women’s intrusion with shrill chitters as they stepped between the mist-shrouded trunks. Kaemada shot the furry creatures a glare. So easily, their presence could be given away. Every Rinaryn in the Heartwood region learned how to move through the forest without leaving a sound or trace from the time they could take their first steps. Still, few could pass the tailosaen without triggering their sharp alarm cries. Another picked up the call.
“We will be at the edge of the trees soon, near Seven Times Ridge,” Takiyah murmured.
Ra’ael nodded, taking a moment to squeeze water out of her securely confined black hair. “We go there, then, and use it as a lookout. Maybe we can see some sign of him.”
Kaemada nodded. If they could find the hermit before he found them, she’d be happy. Having proven her worth, she’d stay with the team, and no one would need to know she’d thought of leaving them.
“More likely he will find us, out in the open like that.” Boredom oozed from Takiyah’s voice.
Ra’ael bristled. “Fine. We will endure a scolding—”
“Or bruises from those ripples he throws,” Takiyah interjected again, and Ra’ael fixed her with a menacing stare.
“And then, we will have finished training for the day. I have other duties to tend to.”
“In that case, just leave now.” Takiyah’s eyes flickered down at Ra’ael and then back to scanning the landscape.
“I cannot do that!”
Kaemada tuned them out as they bickered yet again, reaching out to Tannevar through the bond she shared with him. A flood of scents engulfed her, and she stumbled into an elderwood tree. Shaking her head, she placed a hand on the trunk to steady herself before continuing, once again firmly in her own body with her limited sense of smell. “Galod isn’t up ahead.”
“How do you know?” Ra’ael asked.
“Tannevar does not smell him. The breeze is blowing this way, so if he were ahead, Tannevar would know.”
“You use your psionics too much,” Ra’ael growled.
Takiyah shook her head, her red hair lashing. “We must draw on all our skills to succeed, even those frowned upon. Taunos would already have found him.”
Kaemada’s brother would certainly be waiting
for them with Galod, ready to laugh at their tardiness. Would be, that is, if he were around. Kaemada crept out onto the rocky outcropping. This time, they’d win the challenge, proving she was right to continue training. Otherwise… The dread of their disappointment only flared her own.
Seven Times Ridge afforded a view of a great expanse of Heartwood, though they would have to stay low or risk Galod spotting them. Kaemada swept her gaze carefully across the land while Takiyah and Ra’ael slithered up next to her.
“Who’s that?” Takiyah peered intently at someone in the distance.
Kaemada leaned toward her, sighting along her finger. Locking her gaze on the lone figure, she leaned toward Ra’ael on her other side, pointing. Only the barest gesture was needed before Ra’ael bumped her shoulder in acknowledgement. Kaemada squinted as the figure strode through a meadow.
“They’re heading toward Torkae,” Takiyah whispered. “I cannot make out who it is, though.”
“It cannot be Neven or Farel. They’re already back from their yah,” Ra’ael said.
Kaemada nodded. The celebration for the boys’ completion of the ritual would be tonight.
Ra’ael leaned forward. “They do not move like Galod, although that does not necessarily mean anything.”
“At this pace, it will take, what, till midday for whoever this is to reach Torkae?” Kaemada guessed. Her son was in Torkae.
Takiyah nodded.
Was this a Dark scout, left over from the attack a couple of days ago on a neighboring kaetal? Or perhaps a fae? People travelling alone were uncommon in Rinara—hunters typically travelled in groups or at least pairs. Kaemada frowned. If he meant harm to her son, no old battle wound would keep her back.
Kaemada reached out to the birds. A telepathic link with animals was not so hard, once she adjusted to the vast differences in ways of thinking. Still, telepathy worked best at very short ranges. Birds, however, were everywhere, always alert, and they passed messages between themselves with marvelous speed, unlike tailosaen, who kept their knowledge strictly within family groups. Between the bird network and Tannevar’s nose, she often had a pretty accurate idea of what dangers lurked nearby.
She shook her head after a moment. “I cannot get a clear sense. Although there is danger to the northwest, the birds say. Watch for it while I go farther.”
“Be careful.” Worry filled Ra’ael’s voice.
Kaemada smiled at her, then closed her eyes and laid her head on her folded hands. She dreamwalked, leaving her body in between her friends while Tannevar crept forward to cover her, to keep her body warm. A thin link extended from her to him, preventing her from drifting aimlessly as she swam out like a fish in a creek. She headed for the spirit-songs of a flock of migratory birds flying north above the figure.
Riding the waves of that song, she touched one of the birds’ minds and looked out of its eyes, trying unsuccessfully to convince it to fly lower. Even at such a height, its vision was sufficient for her to see that the man was, indeed, a stranger. His clothes were Rinaryn and appeared to be in decent shape; he looked clean and well-groomed, at least from the distance. Not a Dark nor fae, then.
With a dissonant chord, the bird ejected her, thrusting her into the dreamscape where she drifted, disoriented. Her bond with Tannevar was her lifeline. The warmth and wildness of his spirit’s song twined inseparably with her own, drawing her back to her body.
Smashed between Ra’ael and Takiyah, with Tannevar smothering her, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She had to get out, had to gain room. A strangled cry escaped her as she burst upward. Ra’ael and Takiyah reached for her, but she shook them off.
An orb-shaped ripple shot toward her from the northwest. The orbs Galod threw bent the light as if there was a pool of water in midair, defying the senses. She stared at it, overwhelmed and disoriented, but Takiyah yanked her sideways. The orb flashed past, into the forest. Kaemada landed hard on her knee, and Tannevar yelped with the pain that flashed up her leg.
“What happened?” Takiyah demanded.
“The bird got tired of sharing,” Kaemada gasped. “It’s a stranger, possibly a messenger.”
“The bird is a stranger?”
“The person!” Kaemada scowled, rubbing her knee.
“You must be careful. You could easily end up as No-mind,” Ra’ael said. Kaemada suppressed a shudder.
Ra’ael drew in a deep breath and sighed it out, staring toward the northwest. “We failed… again. Better not lose the sparring. Let’s go.”
Now that he’d found them, Galod would be coming, just like a Dark scout would. They backed toward the shelter of the misty brambles, pain piercing through Kaemada’s bad knee with every step. She’d caused them to fail, just as she’d feared. Her injury still held her back, and in one moment of weakness, she’d betrayed their location. Pain soured her song—not the ache of her knee, but that of being unable to help protect the people she loved.
Once among the brush, Ra’ael led them around in an arc toward Galod’s hiding place. Ra’ael drew her short sword and dagger. Takiyah held her metal staff close to her side as she crouched low, scanning the forest. Together, they moved through the trees, swift and sure.
If she had to leave them, would she grow jealous watching them gather all the glory they deserved? The very thought caused her chest to tighten. She didn’t want to be jealous—she just wanted to be equal to them once more. She couldn’t let them see the turmoil inside her. If they knew she considered leaving them, she’d never hear the end of it, and already the very thought dragged her low.
Kaemada struggled to avoid snapping twigs and rustling leaves with her limping. She reached into the oiled pouch in her belt for her bowstring, but rainwater had managed to get in at the corners. Her string was soaked, her bow useless. Nothing today was going as she’d hoped it would.
Her scouting skills hadn’t been enough, and now she couldn’t use her bow. Psionics was all she had left. A splash of water tumbled from the leaves above to coat her. She closed her eyes and focused hard on the sounds of the forest, trying to force her song to a tune of hope, or at least resilience. Rain, limp, and useless bow or not, she couldn’t give up.
Ra’ael glanced back and gestured westward. Kaemada nodded and turned, creeping along a low barrier of prickleberry bushes, against the protests of her knee, until Ra’ael signalled again. They waited, Kaemada’s every sense alert for danger on any side, checking in often with Tannevar and the bird network.
A tailosae chittered and threw fruit at Takiyah’s ambush site. Kaemada reached out to try to soothe its territorial wrath, but then the whole forest erupted in alarm cries.
A cloud of dust and wind swirled in their direction, and the hairs on the back of Kaemada’s neck prickled. Tannevar slunk away. He’d been interested in finding the hermit, but now that he was found, the wolf preferred to keep his distance.
Kaemada watched Ra’ael for the signal, and when Ra’ael nodded, she pushed at a nearby log both telekinetically and physically, sending it tumbling downhill. Another log rolled toward hers, pushed by Ra’ael. Takiyah leapt up, in line with where the logs would collide, and released her flames. A mighty, swirling windstorm obscured their teacher, yet four orbs, one right after another, came shimmering toward Kaemada. She dropped to the ground.
You use your psionics too much.
That was all she had left. Kaemada advanced, throwing large sticks at the back of the whirlwind with telekinetic boosts of power. Takiyah and Ra’ael would be able to box him in if she could drive the old hermit close enough. Maybe, just maybe, if she could help them best Galod, she could stay with them, stay part of the team they’d grown into the last twenty summers. After all, the goal was to protect her people from attack.
Takiyah stood before the storm, her long hair whipping behind her as she struck and parried. Fire flowed from her hands down the length of her long grey staff. Around her, Ra’ael ducked and flitted, slashing at Galod with her sword and striking precise hits whe
never Takiyah created an opening.
Between one heartbeat and the next, the familiar rhythm of combat training faltered. Ra’ael turned on Takiyah and lashed out with her dagger. Takiyah dove away just before Ra’ael’s sword slashed through the air where she’d stood.
The whirlwind disappeared to become their old teacher, his stormy eyes the hard grey of the Holy Mountains to the south. “Stop.”
Ra’ael threw herself toward Galod, and Kaemada’s breath caught in her throat. Her friend had slipped into the blood rage, that state when she struck at anyone and everyone in front of her. In battle, they always stayed well behind those with the blood rage. Ra’ael loathed losing control.
Three orbs in quick succession blasted Ra’ael into the ground. Kaemada shuddered, racing over as Galod crouched beside the fallen woman. Panting for breath, Takiyah leaned on her staff, pressing one hand to her upper arm. Kaemada took strips of cloth from Takiyah’s belt pouch, grateful she was always prepared, and helped her bandage the cut.
“I will be fine,” Takiyah said, shaking her off.
Kaemada wrinkled her nose at her, double-checking the knot of the bandage.
They both stilled, staring at Galod’s vigil over Ra’ael. He wielded his ripples of power with uncanny control, but accidents were possible. It seemed the whole forest sighed with relief when Ra’ael regained her feet, rubbing her chest and head with a pained look. Kaemada embraced her, ignoring her embarrassment and the way she avoided looking at Takiyah.
“Takiyah, forgive me.”
“I’m fine.” Takiyah gripped Ra’ael’s arm.
Galod cleared his throat, wearing a familiar frown. His black hair was streaked with grey, and his clothes draped him in a foreign style, all blue and grey. Kaemada clustered close to Ra’ael and Takiyah as they turned to face him.
