by S Kaeth
She turned to Tannevar. “Where is Eian? Why did you not wake me?”
The wolf yawned and opened his eyes, looking around. He shook out his fur and sniffed the ground in a seemingly random pattern. Kaemada shook her head. How had Eian gotten up without Tannevar noticing? It was impossible! This couldn’t be happening.
“You were supposed to wake me!” she shouted.
He shook out his fur, sending her anger, fear, and confusion. Tannevar’s fear for her son only heightened her own terror, though she tried to push it away, tried to remain calm. Panic would not help.
“Eian!” she screamed, turning away.
Her voice echoed across the desolate landscape. Above her, Shareilon wheeled, circling more and more widely, and Tannevar worked his way forward, his sensitive nose working hard, whining in a high pitch all the while. Thorny bushes snagged at her clothes, and her injured side awoke with stabbing pains as she ran along the twisting path. There was no trace of Eian.
What could have attracted her little boy’s attention? Where was he?
Her boots kicked up sandy dirt as she hurried forward, bent awkwardly from the pain, searching for Eian’s footprints. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she gritted her teeth against the weakness of her body.
She pushed it aside. Nothing was more important than Eian. She had to find him. How frightened he must be, alone in the wilderness! Her heart thudded in her throat, panic rising. He might be lost, or hurt, or… No, she wouldn’t think it.
Why couldn’t Shareilon find him? Why couldn’t Tannevar track him? He kept coming back to her, sending her confusion, and then padding toward a wall of rock just off the trail.
“Stop playing, Tannevar!” she shouted, fear flashing into anger.
He sent her irritation in return, and guilt stabbed her. It wasn’t Tannevar’s fault. It was hers. She should have listened. She dragged her fingers down her face, closing her eyes for a moment. Desperately, she wished to turn back the spinning of time, to prevent this, to travel with the kaetal instead of with only Tannevar and Shareilon for support. She longed for it to be only a dream. Tears closed up her throat, and she gasped for breath. She squeezed Eian’s doll, wishing it was him instead.
Time dragged on, and the sun ascended the sky, burning off the mists and warming the air. Kaemada screamed her throat raw calling for him. Still, she could not find Eian. Reluctantly, she returned to their camp and inspected every bit of the stony ground in a wide circle. She could find no prints. Shareilon sent her no sign of him. Tannevar could not smell him. Terror squeezed her heart until the land dipped and spun around her.
Her searching was becoming more and more chaotic, but she needed to do something, even if panic blinded her. Eian was hers to keep safe, and she had failed him.
“Why can you not find him?” she screamed at Shareilon. The pegasus snorted an admonishment, and she turned on Tannevar.
“You’re a better tracker than I! Stop playing! He—” Her voice broke. Gasping for breath, she swallowed hard. The tide of tears rose in her throat. She had to push it away, had to think.
Tannevar and Shareilon both sent her irritation. Slamming past Tannevar, Kaemada tore through a clump of bushes for the fifth time.
With a growl, Tannevar stepped in her path. He lowered his head and stared at her, sending her disgust. She was acting like prey.
Offense roiled from Shareilon and the pegasus bit Tannevar, faster than the wolf could dodge.
Kaemada yelped, clapping a hand to her shoulder as Tannevar’s pain echoed there. “Shareilon!”
Tannevar snarled at Shareilon, then turned toward Kaemada, teeth still bared. Shareilon stepped up beside the wolf, and they confronted her side by side.
Smell what we smell. Stop screaming. Stop panicking.
She nodded, shame heating her cheeks. A sob broke from her lips, and hot tears fell on her cheeks. She shivered, staring out across the rugged landscape. Visions of Eian’s broken body lying alone, food for scavengers, haunted her. She struggled against the terror. They were right. She needed to think.
Kaemada sank to the ground, curling into a ball, clutching Eian’s doll. She rocked, pressing her eyes into her knees to stem the flow of tears. She needed calm. Tannevar leaned against her side, and she reached for him, for his unique insight. Yes, fear for the pup. But no worries of tomorrow, no regrets for yesterday, although he was plotting revenge on Shareilon. A tremulous smile appeared for an instant.
Tannevar opened further to the bond. Eian tugging a stick with him. Eian tumbling backward into a tree when the stick broke, laughing. Eian running with him in the forest, scaring up rabbits. Tasty rabbits.
Her shaking subsided, though tension remained in her shoulders. Kaemada buried one hand in Tannevar’s thick fur and reached along their bond. Wolf senses flooded her mind, smells thousands of times sharper than before, sounds clearer, but colors becoming wrong, less vivid. Eian’s scent trail ran straight into the stone of the mountain. Right to the wall she had scolded Tannevar about. It didn’t make sense. There was no way Eian could be there. But that’s what the scent revealed.
Confused and defeated, she retreated to her own mind. How could she trust such an impossibility? The stone was smooth and solid. What could be behind the wall of rock? Anything? She had to see. She had to dreamwalk.
Kaemada flung her arms around Tannevar’s shoulders, and Tannevar threw one large paw around her back, his comforting presence anchoring her. Closing her eyes and focusing on her task, her mind drifted out of her body and away. Immediately, her worries dampened as the calm detachment of the dreamscape crowded in. There was no sense of touch here, no smell. Only songs, strange and distorted, for distance meant nothing in the dreamscape.
The features of the land around her dimmed, blurring together. The songs of people rose around her, several of the melodies coming from behind her, but none before her. A gleaming thread, her lifeline back to reality, stretched behind her, linking her to Tannevar, humming with the unique sound of her song mingled with his. Fear whispered at her even in the detached state of the dream, but now it was easily ignored, rather than drowning her. She floated toward the wall of rock. If Eian was there, she should be able to find him. She refused to acknowledge the most likely explanation for not hearing his song. He had to be alright. He had to be alive.
Physical barriers did not matter in the dreamscape, so she tried to drift through the stone. As she approached, she slid away to the side. She tried again and slid away again. She paused. While she wasn’t particularly practiced at dreamwalking, she had never encountered any barrier in the dreamscape. She tried again and then again, bringing all her will and power to bear on the task.
Abruptly, the wall gave way, overwhelming her with a moment of disorientation. Darkness spread before her, with a multitude of songs rising from below. But she barely noticed them, instead staring in awe at a pale, almost translucent form, hairless with large eyes and hardly any nose. The figure had a knobby, bare skull, adorned with a thin, gold filament that held a single jewel shaped like a teardrop, and wore a long, shimmering gown. Fury and astonishment stood out on the strange features.
Everything went black. Kaemada was shoved away from the strange place inside the mountain, back out into the open wilderness.
What had she seen? How could people be living in rock? But she’d seen a face. What was going on, and most importantly, where was Eian? Perhaps among the other people, those other songs she’d heard. She had to get to him.
Slowly, she pulled her way back to her body. Too long out of her body and her body would die, and if her body died so would her mind, and if she died, who would save Eian? Finally, she opened her eyes and then closed them again. She struggled to catch her breath, drenched in the cold sweat of overexertion. She shivered helplessly, her wounds aching as if they were freshly reopened. Tannevar whined, jabbing her in the cheek with his wet nose.
How was she to find Eian? The trail led to the rock wall, and something was beyond that wa
ll. She focused on breathing. She couldn’t panic. She had to think. How had Eian gotten through? There must be a way, and she needed to find it.
Painfully, she made her way to the wall of stone. She laid her hands on the rocks, pressing against them with her telekinesis. She gritted her teeth, grunting with the effort, straining so hard she felt she might break something in her mind—if that was even possible. Only a pitifully few small rocks fell, clattering down around her. She tried again, and nothing happened. Frustrated tears slid down her face. She wasn’t strong enough.
Every moment increased the chances that Eian wouldn’t survive. Takiyah, Maeren, Ra’ael—they had been right. She shouldn’t have come alone. Separated from her kaetal, there was no one to fall back on for help. Why hadn’t she listened? Now she was all alone and Eian was lost. She would give anything to do it over, to do it right this time. To have Eian back. Desperation, grief, rage, and terror clamored within her for release.
Dropping the walls of her mind like so many jars smashed on the ground, she screamed with every fiber in her being for help. “Eian is missing!”
The message, the urgency, flashed out of her. It drained her, and she fell back on the rocky ground, lost to time’s passing.
EHREI
Chapter Five
The Rinaryns call the Kamalti their “brother race” and it seems to me that they fear them as much as they respect them. The Kamalti are said to live under the Holy Mountains, and at first, I thought they were probably dwarves. However, the mountain range is also infested with dragons, making the existence of a dwarven kingdom unlikely. The Rinaryns say the Kamalti protect the mountains and keep safe ways for them to travel to and from their Feasts of Starfall, along with traps and natural disasters for those who stray from the path. I find it most likely that the Kamalti grew as an idea from the fact that the journey is treacherous and rife with dangers, as a sort of childhood monster to keep their young in line. Few Rinaryns truly believe in them, and I have found no evidence to support the existence of such a race.
—journal excerpt
Taunos strained, his fingers missing the boy’s by less than a hand’s width. The boy gritted his teeth and stretched, dark eyes pleading. Tears made tracks down his dirty face. Zafril was several years older than his sister Kaemada’s son. He was still too young to die alone, trapped underneath the rubble of a house.
“Just a little farther, Zafril!” Taunos shouted.
The wall had fallen across the boy’s legs and pinned him down. The fighting had stopped, soldiers of both sides fleeing the arrival of the Sea Peoples. It meant there were no Dahuti around to see their apparent ally trying to rescue a citizen of the other side, but it also meant he had precious few moments before death found them. Taunos shoved at the debris, even though it was packed too tightly to move, then dove back into the hole where he could see Zafril. His phobic mind screamed at him that the sun-baked clay would collapse, that he would be trapped, that there was no air to breathe, no room to move. He’d reach him this time. He had to.
“Hayri!”
Desperation choked Taunos as Zafril shouted a final plea.
The shout distorted, became a scream of anguish and terror. His sister’s voice.
Taunos jerked awake. A bird perching on the grasses above his head shrieked again and took flight.
He hated that nightmare. It refused to be left behind, even now, back in his homeland. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples as the pounding of his head chased away the last vestiges of the dream. He hadn’t bedded down for the night—why had he been sleeping? His tongue felt swollen in his dry mouth, and he was soaked through with sweat, dew, and more. With a grimace, he stood, staggering as dizziness overwhelmed him. Moving carefully, he peeled off his soiled clothing for fresh clothes from his pack and gulped water from his pouch.
How long had he laid unprotected, and what had driven him to unconsciousness? He was badly dehydrated, and his stomach churned pains through his abdomen. His muscles were stiff, his limbs unsteady as he moved. He’d slept far too long to be natural. And his sister’s scream at the end of the dream—that was new.
Kaemada was in trouble.
His sister was supposed to be safe. That was why he travelled the realms, so his people could live in relative peace. And now she’d gone and gotten herself in trouble.
Grabbing a hard roll and a handful of jerky, he threw his supplies back into his pack, except the water pouch. Impatience lashed him as he walked on weak, clumsy legs, following the trampled grasses left by the alanshorn-drawn wagons of his kaetal. Last he’d been aware, they were camped over the next big hill. So long as they hadn’t moved, he should catch up with them by midmorning—especially once he could run.
He pushed himself into a jog as soon as his legs felt steady enough. Hopefully, he could sort out whatever had happened before the Feast. The Heartwood Elders would want to speak to him, chastise him for his failure. The most likely source of the information he needed was closed to him, had been closed to him the entire time, despite all he’d done to gain access.
Taunos shook his head and pushed himself for more speed, up the slope of the hill, his pack bouncing against his back. First, he’d get his sister out of whatever trouble she’d found herself in, then endure the inevitable meeting with the Elders. After that, there’d hopefully be time to join the contests. Eagerness filled him for some good, fierce sparring sessions, just what he needed to relieve the stress from this last mission. The competitions were the best part of the Feasts, closely followed by the music and food.
As he jogged into the circle of tents at the bottom of the hill, the back of his neck prickled. The camp was in disarray. The tents, in their bold colors, were pitched haphazardly with no regard for the normal circular pattern. Several large, shaggy alanshorn lowed uneasily as they milled at the ends of their tethers. His people clustered in small groups with nervous, darting eyes as they worked with stone tools. Far fewer were out than he expected, and no scouts shouted his approach. Something was wrong. Faces pinched with anxiety relaxed into relieved smiles when they saw him. His gaze darted around the camp, searching for danger, looking for his sister.
Talaera, black-haired and black-eyed, rushed toward him. Her brightly dyed alanshorn wool clothing was travel-stained at the hem, and her many bracelets of bone and wood clattered as she raised her arms to embrace him. “Taunos! Thank the spirits high and low!”
“Where’s my sister?”
She stepped back to look up at him. He stood a head higher than her, and she was not a short woman. “Your sister has been soft in the head again. You must find her, and quickly! With this sudden sleep and her foolishness, the Elders will meet at the first opportunity.”
Find her? His gaze darted over the rest of the camp. No Kaemada, no Eian, no Ra’ael, no Takiyah. Cold dread coiled in his gut. “What happened?”
“She went off on her own with Eian. On pegasus-back, if you can believe it! Taunos, listen. Look at me!”
Taunos forced himself to meet the smaller woman’s gaze. She was in a mood and wouldn’t let him go until she’d had her say—he knew that from experience. His stomach twisted, seeing the fear in her sharp black eyes.
“Troubles are coming, Taunos, for Galod’s students. Accusations have been made. Now, more than ever, your sister cannot stand apart. Yet she will not hear me. You must!”
He didn’t have time for such foolishness. His sister and Eian were somewhere ahead, alone and in trouble. They wouldn’t have left the path—his sister believed all the stories, if not the danger. He shifted, but Talaera grabbed his arm.
“You must step lightly. Make no ripples as you go. Times are not as forgiving to those who separate themselves from the kaetal as they have been in the past. For you who are set apart doubly, as Galod’s students and as psions, it’s even more dangerous.”
Gently, he extricated himself from her grasp. “I hear you, my mother’s cousin,” he said, stressing their kinship to calm her. He needed
to find Maeren and let her know where he was going so the kaetal wouldn’t give up hope. Hopefully.
She held his gaze a moment longer before granting him a smile, pulling his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “Now, make your sister hear me!”
He smiled. “Maeren?”
Talaera pointed toward the center of the camp. “I left her not long ago, arguing with Ra’ael and Takiyah.” She sighed and shook her head. “Our Saimahkae must walk a thin line. I’m unsure there is a correct decision for her to make. I only know which way I wish her to decide, but then, my family is at stake.”
Taunos nodded again. Talaera smiled, though her chin trembled, and she reached up to pat his cheek, sending him away. He hurried, thoughts spinning through his head like a whirlwind. What had possessed his sister to leave the safety of the camp and go ahead with Eian? Accusations against Galod’s students? What had happened while he had been away? And Talaera’s mention of a “sudden sleep”—whatever had affected him must have affected his people as well. No wonder they looked so uneasy.
He glimpsed Shana and Taela and dove behind a tent, gritting his teeth. He did not have time to deal with their foolishness today, but sneaking around the back side of the tent only put him face to face with three of the young men of the kaetal.
“Taunos!” one of them exclaimed, clapping him on the arm. “Be aware, Ra’ael is still mad at you for throwing her over that waterfall last time you were home. Watch your back.”
The men crowded around him, preventing his forward movement, jostling for position, each trying to wring promises out of him for the Feast.
“After I fix this! I will beat you after. I promise.” Taunos raised his hands for patience, forcing a grin, despite his worries. The challenges of the Feast always made him feel… more alive.
“If, you mean,” another said, receiving glares from the others.
