by Krista Rose
“Goddess of Healing, remember?” She waggled her fingers at me. “May I?”
I wasn’t going to let this crazy winged lady anywhere near my friend, goddess or not, but when I opened my mouth, what came out was, “Sure.”
Her smile was so bright that dots appeared in front of my eyes. By the time I managed to blink them away, she was standing next to the bed, her hands on Brannyn’s forehead. Her wings were neatly furled against her back.
Brannyn sighed, and color flooded back into his face.
My jaw dropped. “What did you do?”
She shrugged. “I healed him.” Then she looked at me, and her eyes softened in sympathy. “I know how to heal her, too.”
Felice. The breath slammed out of me, and I dropped my sword. “You- How-”
“It’s not as simple as a concussion,” she murmured, and stroked Brannyn’s cheek. “She sacrificed her soul to the Elder Gods. Bringing it back…” She shook her head. “It will be hard.”
“But- but you could save her.” Desperate hope flooded through me. “You could bring her back.”
“No.” She held my gaze. “But you could.”
I swallowed, hard. “How?”
“You must go to the Temple of the Burned. Her soul will be there, in the Pool of the Damned. You have to find it, trap it, and return it to her, before her emptiness eats away at her flesh.”
“Where is this Temple?”
“I am not permitted to tell you.”
“What?” I scowled at her, and wondered if it was blasphemous to shake a goddess. “Not permitted? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She took a hasty step back, and her wings started to unfurl. “It’s not my rules! This is a test. You alone must find the answer. I cannot help you without changing your fate.”
“That’s a stupid answer.”
“But it’s the only one I can give you.” She began to glow. “Goodbye, Landis. I wish you luck.” She vanished in another brilliant flash of light, and for a moment I was blind. When I could see again, I found a single white feather rested on the bed: proof that I hadn’t imagined the whole incident.
I glared at it, swearing.
Brannyn groaned. “Tanner?” he murmured, his eyes unfocused and confused as they fluttered open. “Why are you cussing?”
I picked up the feather. “Come on, Farmboy, get up. We need to talk.”
TANNER
Kryssa was slumped across the kitchen table, her head pillowed in her arms, her flame-red hair spilling around her face. Her skin was the color of porcelain, flawless despite the dark bruises of fatigue that circled her eyes.
I wondered absently what it was about Brannyn’s sister that always made my thoughts turn poetic.
I peeked into the great room, and saw the others were still sleeping. Kylee was tucked into a tiny, defensive ball; Lanya lay like the dead, her hands crossed on her chest; and Alyxen sprawled across the floor, the blankets tangled around his legs. I started to look around for Reyce, the youngest, before I remembered. I sighed, and turned back to the kitchen.
Garyl Moon sat at the table across from Kryssa, calmly sipping a cup of tea. He had the pale complexion of redheads, though his hair had faded to the color of silver rust. His stern face was relaxed; though he had to be exhausted, his sharp blue eyes held no trace of it as he looked up at us. “You should be in bed.”
“I’m fine,” Brannyn replied, pulling out a chair next to him. “I feel great, in fact. Where’s Reyce?”
“I was talking to him.” Garyl pointed at me. “Though you shouldn’t be up, either.”
“There was an angel in your bedroom.” I shrugged at the incredulous look Garyl shot me, and held up the feather. “I wasn’t really comfortable with her watching me sleep.”
“You’re hallucinating.” He pulled out the remaining chair. “Sit down before you fall down. Brannyn, let me take a look at your head.”
Brannyn jerked back. “Where’s Reyce?” he repeated, more insistent.
“Your brother was taken by the Cedrani to Cedralysone. His injuries can be treated there.”
Brannyn sighed, unsatisfied with this answer, but held still as Garyl unwrapped the bandages. I spun the chair around and straddled it, watching as the healer probed the top of his grandson’s head. Brannyn’s hair was still matted with blood, but the wound was gone, not even a scratch to show where he’d struck it.
Garyl looked back at me, frowning. “An angel?”
“Eriny. Goddess of Light. With wings. She healed him.”
“Indeed.” He dropped the bandages into a bucket already filled with bloody rags- another reminder of Reyce. “Did she say why?”
I pulled my eyes away from the bloody water with difficulty, and shrugged. “She said healing was her thing.” I leaned over to poke Kryssa. “Is she even breathing?”
“I hold a mirror to her mouth every half hour to check.” He turned toward the fireplace. “Tea?”
“Please.” My head was aching again, the initial excitement of Eriny’s visit already fading. “She said something else.”
“Oh?”
“She said there’s a way to save Felice.”
Brannyn’s knuckles tightened on the edge of the table, and smoke rose from his hands. I hoped Garyl didn’t mind having his grandson’s fingertips permanently burned into his kitchen table. His eyes were intense on my face. “Tell me.”
I told him, repeating the angel’s words as Garyl sat the tiny, fragile cups of tea in front of us and took his seat. Kryssa didn’t twitch.
“The Temple of the Burned.” Garyl frowned when I finished, and made the sign against evil. “That’s an Elder God temple. Tell me you’re not actually thinking about trying to find it.”
I spun the feather in my fingers, trying to remain relaxed, though his reaction made me feel uneasy. “If it will save Felice, I’ll go to hell itself.”
“You may wish you had,” he muttered. “It may be safer. The Burned One was Phenos, the Elder God of the Sun.”
“Phenos?” Brannyn’s eyes widened. “As in the God who created Vampyres?”
“Vampyres?” Kryssa’s head shot up, her eyes wild as a knife appeared in her hand. “Where?”
“It’s alright, Kryssa.” Garyl’s voice was soothing. “We were just talking. You can put down the knife.”
The wild light faded from her emerald eyes, and she leaned back in her chair and rubbed her face. She did not, I noticed somewhat nervously, put the knife down.
Garyl pushed his tea toward her, watching as she gulped it. “We were discussing Tanner’s visitor.” Quickly, he filled her in.
“The Temple of the Burned,” she repeated when he finished. “Where is that?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Worship of the Elder Gods was forbidden after the War. Their temples were torn down and abandoned, their holy books destroyed. If any still exist… Well, they would have to be pretty well hidden.”
“Who would know?” I didn’t care how well hidden it was; I was going to save Felice.
“The Cedrani, if I had to venture a guess.”
“Who?”
“Elves, Tanner. That’s what they’re called.” Brannyn made a face at me. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”
“I missed that part.”
“The Cedrani consider the destruction of knowledge to be a sin,” Garyl interrupted. His voice was disapproving. “Even if the knowledge is about evil.”
Kryssa raised a brow. “I thought you liked the Cedrani?”
“I admire them. They’ve done many impressive and good things. But I don’t agree with all their decisions.”
“Ah.”
“We’re going to Cedralysone anyway,” Brannyn pointed out. “Tanner can come with us. He’ll find what he needs, go rescue Felice’s soul, and come back here. Everyone wins.”
“You say that like it’s ever been that easy,” Kryssa muttered.
“What about the Guard?” Garyl asked, ignoring her. “The Vampy
res are still here in Fallor.”
“The legions are on their way.” Brannyn's expression was hopeful. “Maybe they’ll get here before we have to leave.”
I shook my head glumly, my heart dropping to my toes. “You know that’s not likely. Chanach only sent for them a few days ago, and the Guard's stretched thin as it is.”
“We can still talk to him.”
“Well, I have to start preparing to leave.” Kryssa finally put down the knife, and stretched. “I want to get started while it’s still light out.”
I stared at her in dismay. “You’re leaving today?”
“Kryssa.” Garyl’s voice was gentle. “You need rest. More importantly, your brothers and sisters need it. Cedralysone is more than a week away.”
“But Reyce-”
“Is safe enough with Vanderys. You don’t have enough time to make more than a few miles in any case, not since you still need to buy horses. Stay one more night, and set out first thing in the morning.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but Brannyn caught her gaze. There was an awkward moment of that peculiar silence they had, and I could almost hear the conversation playing between them. Kryssa looked away first, obviously unhappy, and sighed. “Fine. One more night.”
“Great.” I stood and pocketed the feather. “Come on, Farmboy. Let’s go talk to Chanach.”
TANNER
The white-washed buildings of Fallor gleamed in the midmorning sunlight, their red-tiled roofs almost blinding beneath it. The air was soft and calm, filled with the sounds of laughter and the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting from the central market place. The people we passed smiled and waved, unaware of the monsters that had stalked the cobbled streets the night before.
I forced myself to smile back as we passed them, my stomach tightening as we approached the long, grey building on the far edge of town that served as headquarters for the Guard.
The inside was neat and orderly, rows of bunks and shelves of well-tended weapons occupying most of the space. It smelled of leather, sweat, and steel, and was mostly deserted. A few guards were sleeping in the bunks, but the rest were on shift, patrolling other parts of town.
The captain’s desk occupied one corner of the room. It was littered with scraps of papers and stacks of reports. Chanach himself stood behind the desk, a grizzled, gray-haired man in his late fifties. His stern brown eyes were focused on a map that half-covered his desk as he spoke to a man I had never seen before.
Chanach glanced up as we approached. His eyes lit with relief before he scowled. “There you are! Where have you been? I’ve had people out looking for you. I thought you’d been killed like Ronnis and Vincit!”
“Ronnis and Vincit are dead?” My stomach dropped at the mention of the other men on night shift. I glanced at Brannyn, who looked as horrified as I felt. Had that been why they hadn’t relieved us the night before?
“Yes.” Chanach’s expression was bleak. “Kedrin and Allon found them this morning.” He shook his head. “Still doesn’t explain where you were.”
“We were ambushed last night, sir.” I forced the words out despite the churning in my stomach. “Felice- she-”
“She bit Reyce,” Brannyn finished for me, his face unreadable.
“Reyce… Your youngest brother, right?” Chanach’s eyes softened for a moment in sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“He’s not dead, sir.” The unspoken not yet hung heavily in the air. “An Elf- a Cedrani- took him to Cedralysone. He said he could heal him.”
Chanach’s brows rose. “An Elf? What was an Elf doing in Fallor?”
“Hunting the nest, sir. My sister has been helping him.”
“Which- No, never mind. And none of this explains why you didn’t check in last night.”
“Brannyn was injured during the ambush, sir.” I reached into my pocket to touch the feather. “He hit his head, got a nasty concussion. We’ve been at Garyl Moon’s since.” I glanced at the stranger standing next to Chanach, wondering if I really had seen him flinch. I hadn’t paid much attention to him before, but now I saw that he was young, perhaps early twenties. His shoulders were broad, like someone used to heavy labor, and his hair was long enough to curl over the collar of his tunic, where a gleam revealed he wore chainmail beneath his travel-stained clothes. A heavy sword was belted to his side.
He returned my gaze, and I flinched away from the despair in them.
“Tanner.”
I glanced back at Chanach, and flushed when he simply stared at me. “Sir?”
“Brannyn said an angel healed him, and you saw it.”
“Ye-yes, sir.” I pulled the feather from my pocket, and offered it to him. “Eriny. Goddess of Healing.”
Chanach took the feather from me, though his eyes remained on my face. “Tell me everything.”
I did. I explained about Felice’s ambush, Reyce’s attack, and the angel’s appearance, careful to keep from looking at the stranger again.
When I finished, Chanach let out a deep breath. “Well, that’s- Damn.” He shook his head. “Where is this Temple of the Burned?”
“I don’t know, sir. But I think the Elves will know.”
He glanced between me and Brannyn. “You both want to go.”
I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t spare you.”
“But sir-”
“I said I’m sorry, but we’re undermanned and under attack by a horde of monsters. Ronnis and Vincit are dead, and I have no one to replace you. I don’t know how long it will take the legions to arrive. I can’t afford to let you leave.”
“Reyce is my brother, sir.” Brannyn’s voice was controlled, but I noticed he had carefully tucked his hands into his pockets. I wondered if he knew he was smoking.
“And I regret that I have to make this decision.” Chanach looked at us wearily, and I saw for the first time the weight of responsibility that had been thrust on his shoulders. The demands of protecting Fallor had aged him years in the past four months. “Under normal circumstances, I would ask why you’re not already on a horse headed south. But there are other brothers in Fallor, and sons and daughters and fathers who will die if I leave the town completely undefended. I cannot afford to lose any more people.”
“Sir.” The stranger spoke for the first time, and I looked back at him reluctantly. “What if I relieved them?”
“You?” Chanach’s brows almost disappeared into his hairline. “You would volunteer?”
The stranger shrugged. “It doesn’t interfere with my orders. I see no way that protecting your town would hinder my hunt for the Vampyres. It may even help.”
Chanach glanced back at us. “Alright. But I can still spare only one.”
I looked at Brannyn, my heart in my throat. It was unfair of me to ask- Reyce was his brother, and he didn’t even know if he was alive. I wanted to leave to save the girl that had almost killed him- but she could be saved, I was sure of that now. I just needed a chance to try.
“You go,” Brannyn said at last, his face reflecting the agony he felt. “Save Felice.”
Pure gratitude flooded me, making my knees feel weak. “Thank you.”
“Since Tanner will be gone for awhile, you will need a new partner.” Chanach gestured to the stranger. “This is Desper, a Second. Desper, this is Brannyn and Tanner.”
“Second?” Brannyn repeated, frowning. “Second what?”
“A Second to a Great Mage.”
I stared at the young man in awe. Seconds were the stuff of legends, heroes who served the most powerful of mages as their body guards and friends. I had never met anyone who had ever even seen one, and now to be standing in the same room… It was almost enough to make me wish I was staying in Fallor.
Almost.
“My Lady is not here,” Desper said, in the tone of someone used to the question we hadn’t asked yet. “She remained on the Isle of Enevai. She sent me here to deal with the threat in her place.”
“Oh.” Brannyn looked disappointed, and I couldn’t help but feel the same. Having a super-powerful mage on our side would have been very useful. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you anyway.” He peered at the bow slung across Desper’s shoulders. “You any good with that thing?”
Desper shrugged. “Perhaps.”
I glanced at Chanach. “Do you need me for anything else, sir?” I was already itching to pack.
“No, you’re dismissed.” He waved a hand at me. “Brannyn and Desper, you, too. Report here at dusk for watch rotation.”
“Thank you, sir.” Brannyn and I saluted; Desper tilted his head. Then the three of us trudged back outside into the morning sunlight.
“Well, I’m off to pack,” I announced. “See you at Garyl’s tonight?”
“Right.” Brannyn shrugged, but I could see it still hurt him to think of being left behind.
I hesitated, despite my urgency. “You sure you’re alright with this?”
He jerked a shoulder. “No, but it’s alright. The others will be there.” He sighed. “Come on, Desper. Let’s go get drunk at the tavern and get to know each other.”
I watched as they walked away. This is a test, Eriny had said. I sent a brief prayer to any gods that might be listening that I was doing the right thing. Then I turned away and hurried back down the street.
LANYA
I woke around noon, disoriented and groggy. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, staring around in confusion until I remembered I was in my grandfather’s house. Kylee and Alyxen were still asleep on the floor beside me, and I rose quietly from my pallet to avoid waking them.
Grandfather was sitting alone at the kitchen table, staring at something in his hand. A cup of cold tea sat at his elbow, forgotten. He glanced up as I sat across from him, his hand closing over whatever it held. His eyes were tired; had I not felt so fragile, I would have taken some of the exhaustion from him. “You’re awake.”
