Storm of Arranon Fire and Ice

by Robynn Sheahan

  Erynn stepped back, shaking her head. “Don’t touch me, Tine. Not a good idea to touch me right now.” She spun, glaring at the circling group. “Dhoran is coming. He brings war. What will you gain from a battle with the surface? More important, what will you lose?”

  A Shifter pushed forward. “I understand your words. You speak our language. How is that possible?” Without waiting for a response he went on, his articulations guttural and hissing, but understandable. “Dhoran promises us the surface and all its rewards. He will rule both realms.”

  Erynn stepped up to the Shifter. “You’re right. Dhoran wants to rule both. He’s tried before and failed. Not once, but twice.” She scanned those gathered. “Even if he were to win a war with the surface, how would that change anything for those of you that manage to survive?”

  A Socar Batah yelled, “The outer world would be ours!”

  Erynn turned toward the irritated voice, hers equally harsh. “But you still couldn’t live above.” Her tone softened and she dropped her gaze. “What do you want from the surface?”

  Syrana stepped past Tine, her jaw set. “Spices, herbs, medicinal plants. No one should die because I don’t have the remedies to heal them.”

  Another shouted out. “Grains for baking. Fruits, green vegetables. Fresh esic and braefin from your oceans, lakes, and streams. We live on roots, red meat, and the occasional slire Bane manages to catch.” He laughed with a mocking guffaw. “I prefer the variety you enjoy.”

  “Wood for our fires,” an older female with long gray hair croaked. “I live alone. I must choose between having cooked food and being warm or suffer difficult trips to the surface.”

  “Color,” a young female offered. The three that stood next to her nodded. “Bright fabrics for clothing and to decorate our homes.” She pulled a worn, tattered paper from her pocket, unfolded the crinkled page, and held a picture out for Erynn. Faded red, yellow, purple, and teal aleuns perched against deep-green foliage. An iridescent blue ocean against a sparkling white beach filled the background.

  “Light, and not from fires. My old eyes grow dim.” The speaker chuckled, but not with amusement.

  A disharmony of bellowed wants and needs surged over Erynn. She held up her hands, trying to quiet the crowd. “Wait. Listen.” Her words were lost in a riptide of angry shouts. Wispy filaments wound between her fingers. The group’s complaining intensified, their irritation mounting. This gathering would quickly become dangerous if she didn’t do something.

  Erynn released the pulsing currents in a blue flash.

  The air thickened. Time slowed. Everyone froze in the moment.

  Erynn slid between the Socar Batahs and the Shifters. She moved to the pier and out onto the end over the water. The bright electric wave receded, found her, and pulled inward.

  Socar Batahs and Shifters gazed open mouthed. They glanced with jerky movements among each other, searching for her.

  Time caught up.

  She took in a deep breath. Her hands shook, and her knees threatened to buckle. That had taken more out of her than usual. She was still weak from eight days of unconsciousness. “I’m here,” she called faintly.

  The group swung as one toward her voice. Gasps ensued, and the female Socar Batahs backed up several paces. The males made no rush forward. Shifters hissed and ducked their black oily heads, thin dark arms held protectively before them.

  “Now listen to me, or I’ll transport myself again. And not just to another place in the trialath. I’ll return to the surface.” Erynn knew this wasn’t an option, but with any luck, they didn’t.

  “Calliach!” the old female Socar Batah screamed and reached a bony hand toward the Anim Blath.

  Sorcerer? Hope this doesn’t get me burned at the stake.

  Erynn stomped up the pier and shouted, “I’m no more a calliach than Dhoran.” She hesitated and stopped when they scrambled back. “In fact, Dhoran and I are alike. I have a mixed parentage from Korin and Arranon. This blending has given me…abilities. Like Dhoran’s mixed heritage between the two realms of Arranon has given him special powers.”

  She continued to the end of the decking anchored to the shore. This position gave her height over the Socar Batahs and Shifters. “Everything you want from the surface can be yours without war.” Erynn called over them and smiled. “There’s a simple way to achieve all you desire.”

  Tine took Syrana’s hand and pulled her forward. He stood below, gazing up at Erynn. “What is this simple solution?” His tone relayed doubt. “You dare to deceive us after all we’ve done for you?” His eyes flashed with the presumed insult.

  Erynn jumped off the pier to the stone and glared up at Tine. “You mean like holding me prisoner?” she whispered. “Establish trade with the surface,” Erynn said in a loud, confident tone, gazing around to those watching her.

  “What do we have that surface dwellers want?” someone shouted.

  “Oh, you have worthy trade items. Tine, you told me I wasn’t the first to visit.”

  He nodded. “Not so much recently, but there have been instances. They would find us by mistake, stay a short time, and leave.”

  “Did they ever return?”

  Tine shrugged. “These visits were before my time, but I suppose it’s possible.”

  “I’m sure they did.” Erynn walked through the parting crowd to Tine’s cabin. She ran her hand over the rough surface. Veins of a sparkling, clear mineral ran through the dark stone. “What is this substance?” She indicated a thick, shiny vein as wide as her wrist.

  Tine had followed and now stood next to her. “Gryanlock. Why?” He picked at the clear mineral with a sharp claw. He dropped his hand and shrugged. “It’s a dense stone, too hard to be of any purpose. Separating gryanlock from the surrounding rock is difficult, and shaping it is time consuming. No one bothers.”

  “Well, make an effort to at least collect and clean small pieces. This gryanlock is a rare and precious gem on the surface. If you don’t flood the market, you’ll be able to trade for whatever you need or want for many lifetimes.”

  Socar Batahs moved in, running their clawed fingers over the glittering vein.

  Tine stared at her. “This is the truth?”

  A Shifter held a handful of small rough stones forward. “These will provide us with goods from the surface?”

  Erynn took one of the small stones from the Shifter’s palm and glanced around at the group. “Yes. Gryanlock is called diamont on the surface and is used in industry, but mostly for expensive jewelry for the rich, even on Korin. You could be the wealthiest races on Arranon, and very possibly Korin. You can have all you’ve ever wanted.”

  Tine smiled at Syrana and hugged her close. “You will have your remedies, my love.”

  Erynn sat at the kitchen table, eating more stew and listening to Tine and Syrana make plans for trading their gryanlock. The room smelled of enticing spices. Syrana decided to use some of their meager supply of ground grains and sweetener to bake treats. A celebration.

  “Will you help all of us, Erynn?”

  “I’ll get people who can and won’t take advantage of your lack of knowledge of the surface ways.” Erynn pushed away from the table. “But I need to leave, Tine. Dhoran can’t be allowed to find me.”

  Tine frowned. “What do you mean? Once Dhoran knows about our wealth, he won’t want war.”

  Erynn stood up, shaking her head. She picked up a small glittering stone of gryanlock and tossed it back on the table. The gem bounced on the hard surface with a solid rattle and teetered to a stop. “Dhoran already knows about this, Tine. He doesn’t care about wealth. His objective is power. He wants to rule no matter what the cost.”

  Tine stared into the fire. “If Dhoran comes and you’re gone, all the wealth in the world won’t matter. He wants you here. We can’t defy him.” He glanced up at Erynn. “You have to stay. I’m sorry.”

  Erynn walked to stand before Tine. “Are you going to let Dhoran ruin your future— everyone’s future?
Because that’s what he’ll do. My being here will only make things worse and hurry the war along. I’m not staying. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I can’t—I won’t—stay.”

  “If you aren’t here when Dhoran comes, he’ll take it out on the entire trialath. We won’t be alive to enjoy our new-found riches.”

  Erynn shook her head. “Why do you put up with his tyranny?”

  Tine chuckled. The sound held no humor. “Dhoran is powerful. He has a vast and eager army. Many from the surface follow him. Our attempt to overthrow Dhoran and his soldiers would be fuel to their fire.” He followed Erynn’s path with his gaze as she paced around the kitchen.

  Erynn spun on Tine and quit pacing. “No. He had an army. That was hundreds of years ago. The story my father told me said his armies were depleted, conquered, driven deep underground. He hasn’t had time to recruit and restore his troops. I’m sure Dhoran has some followers now, but no way there’s this vast force he claims.”

  Syrana laid her hand on Tine’s shoulder. “This could be verified?” She glanced at Erynn and stroked Tine’s neck, moving down his arm. “I believe Erynn. Dhoran will start a war with the upper realm, and soon. We will be required to fight. Our losses will be immense and inconsequential to Dhoran.”

  Tine took Syrana’s hand. He didn’t say anything for a long, torturous moment. “I believe an accounting of Dhoran’s soldiers can be confirmed.”

  Erynn’s muscles relaxed, and breath rushed from her lungs. “How soon?”

  Tine stood up, still holding Syrana’s hand. “Erynn, this could take some time.”

  “Then we have a problem to solve. I have to find a way to leave the trialath and return to the surface without endangering your people.” Erynn glanced around the cozy kitchen and bit at her lower lip.

  “No matter what Drom tells Dhoran regarding your absence, his anger will destroy us.” Tine’s shoulders slumped under the weight of this certainty. “I have considered many ways to help you escape. Each one ends, well…not good.”

  “Transition station.”

  Erynn brushed at the buzzing in her ear and searched for the annoying centinent. “You have? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Transition station.”

  The buzzing came closer, growing louder.

  “If I couldn’t come up with a plan, it seemed cruel to raise your hopes.”

  Syrana smiled at Tine. “He has worked tirelessly at this dilemma.”

  “Transition station.”

  Erynn’s gaze darted around the room. “Wait. There are no centinents here.” She turned toward the hall, hurried through the sitting area, and went outside.

  “Transition station.” The deep male voices of the Anim Blath sounded in her mind.

  Erynn stared up at the glowing white ceiling. “I hear you. Yes, the transition station is a way to escape, but how does that keep the trialath safe?” She frowned. “Why can’t I hear you in the cabin?”

  “Erynn, what’s wrong? Who are you talking to?” Tine reached for her arm but stopped before he touched her.

  Syrana stood next to Erynn. She pulled in a ragged breath, her eyes wide. “The Anim Blath speaks to her. There are rumors, old writings about this. Talking with the Anim Blath was common for our ancestors. We have lost the ability to hear them.”

  Erynn spun, gazing at the rock walls of the cabin, and laughed. “Did your ancestors build their homes with gryanlock? The gryanlock acts as an electricity conductor, generating its own electromagnetic field.” Erynn waved a hand and shook her head at Tine and Syrana’s blank stares. “Never mind. Inside your cabin, all the cabins, the walls are filled with the gryanlock. The energy created scrambles the signals from the Anim Blath.”

  Tine stood there, his mouth hanging open. “No.” His lips snapped closed and he shook his head. “Homes were made of baked mud and clay. Modern tools about ten generations ago made the rock more accessible. With the stone, it was no longer necessary to continually rebuild our cabins.”

  The Anim Blath resumed their instruction. “Have the trialath’s cabrawth, Drom, take you to meet Dhoran at the transition station. Many from the trialath can accompany you—a greeting ceremony.”

  “Okay. Then what?” Erynn glanced at Syrana, her face screwed in intense concentration. Erynn reached out and took Syrana’s hand. “The trialath’s healer should hear the Anim Blath.” She held her hand out to Tine. “So should their teacher.”

  Tine tipped his head. A grin shaped his lips, and he placed his hand in Erynn’s.

  A faint tingle passed from Erynn to Syrana and Tine.

  “When the transition station begins to glow and hum with Dhoran’s arrival, jump into the circle of blue. You will pass each other during the process of crossing.”

  Syrana gasped, and her hold on Erynn’s hand tightened.

  Tine stared up at the white glowing mass, his breath catching in a shudder.

  “Think of the portal of fire. The station will deliver you there. Be quick. Dhoran will follow you. Climb the ladder. Close the portal. Hurry. Dhoran cannot pass through the doorway once it has been sealed. Don’t let him catch you below this point.”

  The tingle built into an itch, coursing from Erynn to Tine and Syrana.

  “He will not blame the Socar Batahs or the Shifters if you escape in his presence.” The Anim Blath chuckled. “Right under his nose.”

  The static ended.

  Erynn dropped Tine’s and Syrana’s hands and turned to face them. “Do you think the plan can work?”

  Tine pulled his gaze from the Anim Blath. His voice quavered when he spoke. “What? Was that…? The voices…they belonged to the Anim Blath? I could hear them.”

  Syrana’s focus was still on the glowing mass of the Anim Blath. “It’s true,” she whispered. “The Anim Blath can speak to us.”

  Tine waved a shaking hand, gesturing them into the cabin. “I need to sit down. But to answer your question, Erynn, the timing would have to be exact. If you entered too soon, Dhoran would find you in the station before you could transport to the portal. Too late, and—”

  “Yeah. I get the idea.” Erynn stopped inside as Tine closed the door. “Wait. What will happen when I enter the transition station? What if I pass out like before?”

  “That’s not what I would worry about, Erynn.” Tine moved through the hall to the kitchen, following Syrana, who couldn’t stop smiling and seemed to float instead of walk. Tine glanced back over his shoulder. He dropped into a chair. “Just because you make it to the chamber below the portal doesn’t mean your problems are over. The Anim Blath are correct. Dhoran will come after you.”

  Chapter 23

  WORD OF THE ANIM BLATH’S plan to free Erynn raced through the Socar Batahs and the Shifters. Erynn in turn gave several demonstrations of her ability to communicate with the radiant white colony. While the Anim Blath spoke, she connected them to the people of the trialath by a touch of her hand. This awoke a dormant aptitude, an insight inside them, like flipping on a switch.

  Syrana’s desire to regain this lost skill drove her to succeed. She was quickly able to communicate without Erynn’s assistance. By mid-phase of the leantas, Syrana was helping others in the trialath to learn.

  Drom returned with his sons from their hunting trip to find the entire trialath either standing with Erynn, gazing up at the Anim Blath, or busy gathering gryanlock. He was humbled by the Anim Blath’s recognition and their appreciation of his benevolent and expert leadership. They deemed him a great cabrawth.

  Drom took Erynn aside. “You can understand me?”

  Erynn smiled and nodded. “Yes, Cabrawth. I can.”

  He stared at his bare feet. His weight shifted from one foot to the other. “You have brought life and hope to our trialath. I have dispatched messengers, advising all the trialaths of the truth.” Drom glanced at Erynn and straightened. “The truths Dhoran has kept from us…We are in your debt. Allow me to deal with Dhoran when he comes to get you.”

  Erynn held up h
er hands and shook her head. “You couldn’t kill Dhoran. Not really. He would just come back in another form and punish the trialaths. This has to be done in a manner that makes certain Dhoran never returns.” Erynn gazed up at the Anim Blath. She continued in a low voice, relaying what she believed to be the Anim Blath’s solution to defeating Dhoran to herself and Drom. “Close the portals, all but the gateway of water. I must somehow lure him to the spot.” Her gaze traveled over the still lake. She tapped the familiar, calming heaviness of the dagger inside the pocket of her lightweight pants, pulled in a deep breath, and glanced at Drom. “Without the dagger, he can’t get out of the chamber’s access to the river or back to the surface through the pond. This will imprison Dhoran’s soul between the realms. He’ll be trapped, forever. I hope,” she mumbled.

  Drom stood tall, his chin thrusting forward. “I will fight with you when the time comes, Erynn. To the end.” He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a quick shake. “A warrior’s death with honor.”

  Erynn’s heart constricted. She bit at her lower lip. “Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.”

  Time alternated, speeding toward the final, inescapable conclusion of this ploy, and dragging with an agonizing pace to her freedom.

  Erynn lay on her bed in the dark, staring at the shadows that formed on the lashed pole ceiling. Syrana and Tine’s three children cuddled in next to her, their breathing soft and regular. During the rest phase, one by one, each padded into her room sleepy eyed and climbed into bed with her. She would miss the residents here. Mostly she would miss Tine, Syrana, and their little ones. They were a part of her now. In losing her mother, her father, and her adopted father, Erynn welcomed them as her extended family.

  But Jaer’s heart was still home for her. Erynn hoped she would get the opportunity to talk with him again and tell him she loved him. Somehow, together they could make everything right.

  She dozed, lulled by the soft breathing of the three cubs tucked in around her, and drifted into sleep.