The Druids' Legacy

by Trenna McMullin

  Last time she had done this spell, it had taken almost half a day to travel a distance only a tenth of the one she was now trying to span. She didn't think it would take days to get where she was going this time, but a little part of her hesitated to try to do anything different with a spell she'd already tested and knew worked. She pushed that part of her aside and focused on holding everyone with her, like she had with Myrnai in the Dreamworld, then she focused on the final destination of their trip. Nothing seemed to move faster, but suddenly the swirling white light came to an end, and Ky'ara rode out onto a grassy plain similar to the one they had just left, only this time hundreds of canvas tents stretched across the horizon.

  She felt a surge of relief. She'd done it. Taren was the last to exit the portal, and Ky'ara quickly closed it, feeling the energy drain of keeping it open even for the short time she had. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Taren came and took the reins of her horse, giving her a sympathetic nod and letting his hand rest on hers for a moment as he slipped the leather reins away from her.

  She let him take them—grateful for the help—and slumped forward in the saddle, holding onto the pommel and letting herself sway with the motion of Angallia's stride.

  They reached the outer perimeter and were required to dismount and leave their horses with the stablehand on duty. Sukylar and Joran headed off to take care of the prisoner. She would be given reasonable accommodations with a round the clock guard to ensure she didn't escape. She had been unusually quiet ever since Ky’ara had pulled the darkness from her mind, and Ky’ara was beginning to wonder if that was because she's been damaged somehow by the procedure, or if it was just a reaction to the confusion of suddenly not feeling as motivated for revenge.

  By the time the sentries escorted them past the first row of tents, Ky’ara felt ready to drop. She’d been tired before doing the transportation spell, now she felt utterly exhausted. Taren inched closer to her side and wrapped an arm around her back. Though he smiled faintly and acted as though it was merely a companionable gesture, Ky’ara recognized that he intended to catch her if she passed out, without making a big scene. Any other day she would have been irritated by his protectiveness, but right now she didn’t have the energy to protest. She rested her head against his arm and closed her eyes for just a moment.

  The temptation to keep them that way nearly won out, but even with Taren’s arm supporting her, she couldn’t walk without seeing the terrain. She opened her eyes reluctantly, and noted that Lauryn had slipped off somewhere. Hopefully to arrange for someplace to sleep as soon as possible.

  Trying to distract herself from her exhaustion, Ky’ara focused on her surroundings. The rebel campsite was neat and orderly, for the most part, though not as crisp and formal as the military installations she’d visited in the capital. Here, people bustled about in a friendly, happy manner, while somehow still maintaining a sort of seriousness about the current situation. Perhaps that was because, while most of the soldiers were men, the rebel forces still boasted a fair number of women. There were even a few children underfoot, though Ky’ara imagined they would only accompany the main part of the army for a little longer. Once the rebels passed the outer villages they were likely to encounter much more active resistance. It wouldn’t be safe anywhere near the army at that point.

  Up ahead, a slim brunette was giving instructions to a kitchen worker, her voice somehow both kind and stern. Something about her seemed familiar...

  Ky’ara stopped short, not quite believing her eyes.

  “Jenie?!”

  The woman turned around.

  “Yes?—oh! Ky’ara, you’re—” She cut off midsentence, startled as Ky’ara nearly tackled her with a hug.

  “How are you still alive? I saw your house, and Ekzhad said…”

  Jenie hugged her back, then gave her a serious look. “Let’s go inside and sit down. It’s a long story, and I want to do it justice.”

  Ky’ara nodded, relieved by the excuse to rest. Her outburst had taken the last dregs of her energy, and suddenly her knees felt wobbly. She felt a strong hand take her by the elbow and steady her as she stumbled into the tent after Jenie.

  “Thanks.” Ky’ara looked up into Taren’s concerned eyes, and nearly stumbled again as she was drawn into the intensity of his gaze. A smile twitched his lips.

  “I think maybe you should sit down...not that I mind catching you, but we don’t want to worry anyone.”

  Ky’ara smiled faintly and let him guide her to the bench placed along one wall of the large dining tent. Jenie sat on another bench across from them and looked questioningly at Taren. “Is she okay?”

  Taren nodded. “She’s just tired, I think. Last time she did this spell it exhausted her for a few days. A good night’s sleep or two and she’ll be right as rain.”

  Jenie nodded, looking at the tired girl with a mother’s concern.

  “Really, I’m fine.” Ky’ara smiled weakly. “So...your house, it's gone?”

  “Completely shattered. We went back and salvaged what we could, after the organization showed up and took control of the town. But it wasn't much.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Ky’ara said, thinking about all the family had lost.

  “We're just grateful that we all survived. We've always known that we may have to leave it all behind suddenly...but I guess part of me always thought, if that day did come, that we'd get a chance to say goodbye.”

  “Jenie... I wish I could make it up to you somehow. I know what it's like to lose your home. I feel terrible.”

  “Why? It's not your fault.” Jenie gave her a concerned look. “Honey, I think you need to get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  Taren put his hand on Ky'ara’s shoulder. She wanted to ignore his obvious attempt to stop her from telling Jenie that she was, in fact, the one responsible for the destruction of the family's home. If it wasn't for her drawing attention to that location during her forays into the Dreamworld, the necromancer would never have targeted them. Somehow, she just couldn't summon the requisite energy to admit all that to this motherly woman who seemed to take care of everyone she encountered.

  “I think I'd better get her to a bed.” Ky'ara heard Taren's voice as though through thick fog. A bed sounded nice...even if it was only a cot. Or a sleeping pad. Anything was better than the cold hard ground. Come to think of it, the ground was even preferable to this bench. Just something to rest her head on...Taren picked her up and followed Jenie out of the tent to find a place for Ky'ara to sleep. She hardly even noticed where they were going. As soon as he lifted her into his arms, she curled her head against his warm, solid chest and within seconds she was asleep.

  * * * * *

  Calistra looked at Joran with an unreadable expression. He shifted uncomfortably. He knew what was coming.

  "Do you have an explanation?"

  "I can already tell you're going to make too big of a deal out of this," Joran said hurriedly.

  "Too big a deal! You just marched an Elysian woman through the camp with her hands visibly tied behind her back and you don't think it's a big deal?"

  "Sukylar is the one who—"

  "Sukylar is a soldier, I don't expect him to consider diplomacy. YOU should know better."

  "I told you we had a prisoner."

  "You didn't say she was Elysian! We're trying to form an alliance with them. You can't go about flaunting a prisoner without considering the repercussions that has on our reputation!"

  "I hardly think—"

  "That's precisely the problem. You don't think! I know you've been off gallivanting around with Ky'ara for the last few months, but I had thought you would remember a smidgen of protocol. You are supposed to ask about these things, you know this!"

  Joran stood sullenly. No matter what he did, it seemed like she always treated him like a child. Even Taren had started to trust him with making decisions. There were definite disadvantages to having his older sister in charge. />
  Calistra sighed and shook her head. "Well there's no help for it now. I just hope gossip dies down before any of the Elysian representatives get wind of it. So tell me, why is she here? Then I want a full report of what's happened since you left Doraicolé."

  "I think I'd better start with the report."

  Calistra waved for him to go ahead, exasperation written all over her face. Joran briefly described their journey to the small fishing village where Taren had first awoken, their failure to find anything of significance, and then Ky'ara's encounter with the water nymph. Calistra listened attentively, though she looked concerned when he mentioned the necromantic Shadows and Remnants they'd encountered and how difficult they were to fight.

  When he had finished describing how Ky'ara had healed Sukylar's wounds, he explained what he understood about why Norika had followed Sukylar from Brume and that she'd tracked them and caught up with them after they'd found Eléirathös. He then briefly mentioned his capture and subsequent rescue in Veré, glossing over the details and skipping to their encounter with the necromancer in the forest.

  “Ky’ara died?” Calistra said skeptically.

  Joran shook his head. “No, she entered Death. Apparently there is a difference. If you don’t believe me, ask her about it. She can explain better than I can.”

  "Believe me, I intend to," Calistra replied. Her tone seemed to indicate that his narrative was lacking, and it grated on his nerves. He might not understand everything that had happened, especially where Ky'ara's forays into the Dreamworld were concerned, but she didn't have to treat him like he was dim-witted.

  "So she defeated the necromancer and then what, just popped back into Life?" Calistra asked.

  "I'll just let her tell you that part of the story tomorrow," Joran said, recognizing that trying to explain to Calistra how Ky'ara had somehow used Myrnai's sacrifice to get back would only result in frustration on both ends. "She got back, the sun finally came out and sent the Remnants scurrying, and we were eventually able to get to the lake and cross over to the island where we found Eléirathös."

  Calistra held out a hand, palm facing outward. "I'll stop you there. I want to hear all about Eléirathös in great detail, but it's getting late and I'm sure you're tired and hungry. Ky'ara is probably better suited to tell me what she discovered there anyways. Explain to me what happened when the Elysian girl attacked you, and then you can go get dinner with everyone else."

  A few minutes later Joran exited the tent with relief. He wasn't terribly tired or hungry, but anything was better than being under Calistra's scrutiny. The tent flap behind him opened suddenly, and he found himself the victim of a swift, tight hug.

  "I forgot to do that first," His sister said apologetically, "I'm glad you're back. I've missed you."

  With that she ducked back into the tent and Joran was left gaping after her. After a moment he shook his head and started towards the dining tent. He'd never understand women.

  Chapter 5: Familiar Faces

  Ky'ara awoke to the smell of sunshine on canvas and the sound of a thousand people preparing breakfast over a campfire. Or at least it seemed to be a thousand. She sat up, groaning, and massaged her temples. She felt rested, but her head still pounded. Every noise was multiplied a hundred times over. Could magic heal a headache? She realized she’d never tried...though since overuse of magic had caused the headache to begin with, it probably wasn’t wise to attempt anything on this one.

  Sighing, she stood and pulled on her boots. Sitting here all day likely wouldn’t help her head feel any better. May as well go out and see what there was to eat. She emerged from the tent only to realize she had no idea where she was. Two rows of canvas tents faced each other across a wide center strip, with cooking fires spaced at even intervals between them. People gathered around the fires to receive bowls of hot steaming mush. It didn’t look very appetizing, but the hollow feeling in her stomach led Ky’ara to join the nearest group and accept a bowl from the cranky old man who stirred the pot.

  She walked back to her tent and sat in the shade to eat, eager to be as far away from the fire as possible. The day was already uncomfortably hot, and she realized wistfully how much cooler they had stayed in the forest. Summer was fast approaching, and the long hot days would do little to help the rebels’ trek across the kingdom.

  “How’s the food?”

  Ky’ara jumped, dropping her spoon and nearly spilling her porridge all over the grass. She turned to glare at Taren.

  “You couldn’t give me more warning before getting so close?”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “That would spoil all the fun.”

  She couldn’t help returning the smile, though the momentary fright had magnified her headache. “Now you’re starting to sound like Joran.”

  “I’m going to ignore that insult,” Taren murmured, kissing her on the forehead and then scooping up her spoon from the grass and cleaning it with a cloth from a nearby laundry line.

  “Now, you never answered my question. How’s the food?” he repeated, handing her the utensil and stepping back so she could eat.

  Ky’ara shrugged. “It’s food, and I didn’t have to gather or prepare it myself, so I won’t complain.”

  Taren raised his eyebrows. “You really hate porridge.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Is it that obvious?” Ky’ara asked, swallowing another lump of the grey goo.

  “You should see your expression.”

  “What!” Ky’ara exclaimed, accidentally splattering him with food. She clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified. From behind her she heard a peal of laughter. Joran and Lauryn walked up, neither able to keep from sniggering as Taren wiped off his face with the same cloth he’d used for Ky’ara’s spoon.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” he said, taking the bowl from Ky’ara and handing it to a rather startled passerby who was on his way to return his own bowl to the barrel of dirty dishes near the fire.

  “Calistra said if you were feeling better she wanted to get a full account of what happened in Eléirathös. Joran told her some last night, but she wants to hear it from you.”

  Ky’ara nodded, then followed him and a still-chuckling Joran past two more rows of tents and campfires until they reached the central section of the camp, where the command tent, infirmary, and officer’s briefing hall had been set up.

  Calistra looked up as they entered her tent and smiled briefly, setting aside the report she was reading and gesturing for them to have a seat on one of the benches facing her desk. Though her face was smooth, Ky’ara could read the stress in her eyes. Or at least Joran could, and Ky’ara could sense his reaction to it through their link. She was getting better at interpreting his emotions, maybe because she’d finally opened herself up.

  ‘Hello? Ky’ara are you going to answer her or not?’ Joran’s voice in her head startled her out of her thoughts, and she focused back on the conversation.

  “I’m sorry Calistra, I’m still waking up, apparently. What did you want to know?”

  Joran’s sister smiled wearily, the slightest bit of irritation showing through. “I’d like you to start with what happened after you were attacked by the necromancer in the forest. Joran gave me a basic sketch of everything you encountered during your search, but he didn’t know much about how you managed to defeat the necromancer and what he did tell me I’m not sure I believe...You went into Death, but you didn’t actually die?”

  Ky’ara closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to relive those events but knowing she owed it to Calistra to explain what had happened, especially since her doing so had led to Myrnai’s death and robbed the rebellion of a valuable resource. She sighed and started her story, describing how she’d first tried to enter the Dreamworld to heal Sukylar from the wounds he’d received while fighting the Remnants in Brume and rescuing Lauryn. She glossed over the details of what Myrnai had taught her about that realm, though she could tell Calistra was struggling not t
o stop her and ask for more information. When she reached how the sylph had warned her of the attack, Calistra finally interrupted.

  “Joran mentioned something about these creatures you’ve been seeing. I don’t understand, what are they? Why doesn’t anyone else seem to know about them?”

  “They’re nature spirits, sort of,” Lauryn jumped in, “They live in the Dreamworld most of the time, sort of halfway between Life and Death. They don’t often interfere, and they can only be sensed or seen by a few people. Myrnai could tell you more.”

  Calistra considered the girl with interest. Lauryn held her gaze and crossed her arms, looking just the slightest bit defensive.

  Joran’s sister finally sighed. “You and I will need to have a talk someday about all the things Myrnai taught you about magic. I’m very interested to know what she did to live so long.”

  Lauryn shrugged, “I don’t know much. If she thinks you need to know, she’ll tell you herself.”

  Ky’ara realized with a start that Lauryn didn’t know. In their last few weeks of travelling together how had all of them failed to tell the girl about Myrnai’s death?

  ‘Joran, you should take Lauryn outside and gently let her know about Myrnai. I don’t want her to find out this way—not as just an observer while I’m explaining how I defeated Ekzhad to Calistra.’

  She could feel his hesitance over the Link. ‘Please Joran? She’s going to find out one way or another. I’m sure it’d be better from you.’

  Joran sent her the equivalent of a mental sigh and walked over to Lauryn, murmuring something to her and pulling to towards the door of the tent.

  Ky’ara turned back to Calistra, ignoring the woman’s questioning look, and continued her story.

  * * * * *

  Joran walked next to Lauryn, trying to think of the best way to break the news to her.

  “So, what was so important that you had to drag me out of there?” Lauryn asked, “I wanted to listen to that.”