Aik moved the open case closer to her, and she leaned down to pick up the small stack of papers lying inside. Written in Cosmean, the first document didn’t list much besides the vital statistics of the baby. At the top was her name- Restlyn Grulich. Ashlyn wrinkled her nose. What a terrible surname. Restlyn had probably been relieved to be adopted as a Li, with a name like that.
At the bottom were Restlyn’s parents’ names. Under mother was written Abinitio Redhorse. Under father it said Nanka Grulich.
“Abinitio? No wonder my dad couldn’t pronounce it. What does it mean?” Ashlyn spoke Angelic, but not fluently, and didn’t recognize the word.
“It’s a variation of an Angelic phrase that means from the beginning,” Aik replied. “I did notice, however, that there is no ‘G’ anywhere in the name.”
The wolf had a point, but Ashlyn wasn’t too curious about Restlyn’s mother’s choice of nickname. Lord Li, like most Toryns of his generation, had experienced difficulty with some sounds that weren’t in the Toryn language. Even though her dad had spoken four languages, Ashlyn recalled there were some inflections and specific sounds that he’d never been able to master. It was entirely possible that G had taken pity on Ashlyn’s dad, and made up a simple nickname that he could pronounce easily.
“Nanka does not sound like a man’s name at all,” she said, changing the subject. “But- hey, Restlyn’s mom was a Redhorse. That’s proof that Restlyn is the chief’s daughter and a descendant of the Chief Redhorse we read about in my dad’s journals. Except for her dad’s name. Who the heck is Nanka Grulich? That name sounds familiar.”
“He was the author of a book you…looked through…briefly when we were here a few weeks ago. It was a book about Toryn customs,” Aik said, graciously choosing not to mention that Ashlyn hadn’t gotten beyond the table of contents before slamming the book shut and hightailing it outside.
“Oh yeah. See, I would have sworn that was a girl’s name, even then.” Ashlyn frowned, feeling deflated. “But it’s still not my dad’s name. Which means we’re back to square one.” Damn. She’d been so sure that Restlyn was her sister. “Why would my dad adopt an unrelated Cosmean as his own daughter? It makes no sense. It’s never made sense.”
“What reasoning did he give when he first brought Restlyn to Toryn?”
“He said that her father had been a close friend of his.”
“Maybe that was the truth, Ashlyn, or at least a half truth. He couldn’t very well tell you that he’d married Restlyn’s mother. And there aren’t many Toryns who haven’t met the Elder Lord- perhaps Lord Li did know Restlyn’s father. If the man wrote a book about Toryn customs, he must have spent some time there. Even if Nanka Grulich and Lord Li weren’t close friends, if your father had once had a romantic relationship with Restlyn’s mother, he might have felt compelled to care for her child following her death.”
Ashlyn chewed her lower lip, pondering. “Restlyn’s parents were killed by Lord Angelo. She never mentioned a sister, though. And the timeline for another child would be all wrong. And Grulich is not a Toryn name.”
Aik was silent for a moment. “That is true,” he admitted. “I think the only way to know for sure is to discuss this with Restlyn. If you want to pursue it, that is.”
“Gosh, of everyone in FLD, you were the last one I ever thought would tell me to lie about my heritage, Aik,” Ashlyn groused. “You make this sound so easy.”
Aik used a hind paw to scratch behind his ear. “I hope you don’t think less of me for this, Ashlyn, as I am usually strongly opposed to dishonesty of any kind. But the Toryn people have been through enough already. They need an Elder Lord. They don’t need politicians or another Devlyn.”
“I guess I’ll have to think about it,” Ashlyn said, and blew out a breath. “I really do appreciate all your help, Aik. Let’s just…well, okay, why don’t you go find my dad’s record of marriage to this Abinitio girl. It’d be helpful to have that if and when I do talk to Restlyn. I’ll get dressed and go find the Spartans, see what they found in the Caverns.”
“Of course. What’s your father’s first name?”
“I actually don’t know,” Ashlyn said, smiling ruefully. “Toryn Lords give up their first names at coronation, and after that the Toryn people are forbidden from calling the Lord of Toryn by name. In fact, I think if we’d followed tradition when I was growing up, no one would have been allowed to call me by name except family. That’ll be the first thing that goes when I become Lady of Toryn. What a silly law.” She paused awkwardly, embarrassed both at rambling and at speaking as though there were some guarantee that she would still someday be Lady of Toryn. “Sorry. Um, you should be able to look it up under the bride’s name, right?”
“I believe so.” Aik bid her goodbye and departed, leaving Ashlyn alone in Vargo’s room again.
A few minutes later, as she was stuffing the ragged ends of her wet hair into a ponytail, Ashlyn made a valiant attempt to quell her inner turmoil. Aik was right in saying that the Toryn people didn’t need to know about the less-than-desirable circumstances of her birth, but at the very least, she was going to talk to Restlyn about the situation and try to get some more information.
She was rounding the corner of the hallway when she smacked into a brick wall.
Or at least it felt like a brick wall.
“Agh!” she yelped, stumbling backwards and clenching her hand over her bruised nose. “What the heck?”
Her eyes were watering from the impact, but through the tears she could make out black hair and a black shirt. Ashlyn blinked furiously, and for one heart-stopping second she thought it might be Drake.
Then her brick wall came into focus, and she lowered her hand, wrinkling her nose to make sure it wasn’t broken. “Jackson? What are you doing here?”
He looked as if he’d nearly swallowed his tongue, and reached out unsteadily, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Geez, Ash. You scared the hell out of me. You should…navigate corners more carefully.” He grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming against the darkness of his closely-trimmed beard. Although he wasn’t a conventionally handsome man, his easy smile was genuine and infectious, and Ashlyn found herself grinning back.
Jackson was the same age as Skye, but along with his calm, reassuring demeanor, the jagged scar that slashed from above his right brow to just below his left cheekbone made him seem much older. Although Ashlyn had joined FLD after Jackson had already come on board, she knew that Jackson had been the brains behind the operation. Skye and Restlyn had started sabotaging Lord Angelo’s power plants on their own, and with Aaron’s help had also managed to destroy several DEMON camps, but Jackson had come up with a plan to end Lord Angelo’s reign of terror. It made sense, then, that he’d gone on to become president of FLD once the dust had settled. He spent most of his time in Civitas, a small city near the Silverbell Theme Park and the unofficial capitol of the Free Lands.
“Did you…come to see me?” Ashlyn asked hesitantly.
“Sadly, no. Although I’m glad to see you- and I’m glad you’re okay. You look fit for coronation,” he said, squeezing her shoulder lightly before dropping his hand. “I’m actually looking for Vargo.”
Ugh. She so didn’t want to have to tell Jackson the real reason why the red-haired assassin had suddenly picked up and left. “I’m so sorry. He’s gone,” she answered. “Some kind of…family emergency. Did his messenger reach Civitas yesterday?”
Jackson nodded. “That’s why I’m here. He told you there was a family emergency?”
“It’s such a long story,” Ashlyn said, completely at a loss as to how to explain it. “Maybe I can help you, though. I was just about to go talk to the Spartans. Would you mind walking with me? We can talk on the way.”
He stepped aside, offering her his arm. Ashlyn fought a smile as she linked her arm through his. She’d forgotten about his impeccable manners.
“I wasn’t aware that Vargo was in touch with his father again,” Jackson said as they star
ted down the stairs.
“His father?” she repeated, and had the distinct feeling she’d started digging either herself or Vargo into a hole with this particular lie. “He didn’t say the emergency involved his dad. I just kind of assumed. Maybe it was someone else in his family?”
“He doesn’t have anyone else,” Jackson said, and apparently deciding that he was done talking about his employees’ personal lives, smoothly changed the subject. “His messenger was inquiring about the stane of Novem Milia. Do you know what this is?”
“Yes. The stane of nine thousand. It freezes time within a limited area of effect.”
Jackson stepped off the stairs and helped Ashlyn down. The way he treated her was ridiculous, considering she was an ass-kicking ninja wearing shorts and sneakers, but Jackson had always been meticulously respectful towards women. During the first few weeks of their adventures pursuing Lord Angelo, Jenn and Restlyn had whispered furiously to each other about how polite and courteous Jackson was, but Ashlyn had dismissed him as a mama’s boy, too gentlemanly for his own good.
Now, three years later, she was suddenly beginning to understand what Restlyn and Jenn had found appealing.
“I’m glad you know what it does,” he said as they exited the inn, “because I had no idea what Vargo was talking about.”
“Does that mean you don’t have one?” Ashlyn asked, dreading his answer.
Jackson shook his head. “I’ve never even heard of it.”
Well, crap. “Did Vargo at least explain why we need it?”
“He said the Cosmeans need it to restrain an ancient evil that threatens the Free Lands. Strong words, from a Spartan.”
“Yeah, I guess they’re usually not scared of much.” Ashlyn bit her lip, contemplating how to best trim the story for Jackson. “So apparently that ancient evil has been held captive in the Cosmean Caverns for centuries. The Angels began using the stane- the one Vargo wanted from you- to trap the Spirit in time, because they didn’t know how to kill it. Apparently it’s impossible to activate the magic without being trapped inside, which is pretty much a death sentence for mortals because it makes your heart stop beating permanently.”
She took a deep breath before continuing, “The stane gets its name from its power- it freezes time for nine thousand days, or about twenty-five years, before it’s completely drained of its power. The last time the Spirit was trapped was twenty-five years ago, when the Angels were still alive.”
Jackson, for his part, seemed to be taking the news in stride. “When will the Spirit be released?” he asked evenly.
They were at the entrance to the dwelling that served as lodging for the Spartans, and Ashlyn came to a halt, looking up at Jackson and shrugging her shoulders as she mentally calculated the exact dates in her dad’s journals. “Soon,” she said. “But probably not within the next three months.”
Jackson blew out a breath of relief. “At least we have some time,” he said.
Ashlyn reached out and knocked on the door. There was the sound of footsteps inside, and then one of the female Spartans, Klotild, answered the door. There was a bandage on her forehead, nearly obscuring one finely arched raven brow.
“Are you all right?” Jackson asked immediately, concern showing in his expression.
Klotild nodded. “There were a few fiends beyond the doors in the Caverns,” she said. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, fortunately.” She stepped back. “Won’t you come in?”
“Ashlyn!” someone called out from behind her, and both Jackson and Ashlyn turned to see Skye at the entrance to the city.
“Is anybody else planning to show up unexpectedly today?” Ashlyn said in exasperation. “Seriously! Vargo just had to leave!”
Jackson chuckled. “Why don’t you go see what Skye wants,” he suggested. “I’ll get an update from the Spartans. I know you’ve got other, more pressing matters to deal with.”
“Thanks. I hate to leave you like this, but…well…I guess I have to.” Ashlyn edged sideways, then hesitated, unsure of what decorum required in terms of bidding the president farewell. “It was good seeing you,” she said lamely.
Jackson’s smile made his dark eyes sparkle. “You too, Ash. We’ll catch up later.” Sparing her any further awkwardness, he stepped through the doorway, having to duck to fit through the doorway. Like Aaron, Jackson was exceptionally tall, but his unassuming manner made his size easy to forget.
Skye met Ashlyn halfway to the entrance. “What is Jackson doing here?” he said by way of greeting.
“It’s nice to see you too,” she replied, “considering last time we met I was near death.”
“Is that why he came here? To make sure you were okay?”
Gosh, Skye was awfully single-minded sometimes. “No,” Ashlyn said grumpily. “He came here because of something else entirely- something that you’ll probably be involved in soon enough, don’t worry. And on that note, what are you doing here?”
“I told Vargo we’d be back today,” Skye answered. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“No.” Vargo sure was disappointing a lot of people this morning.
“Your coronation is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’m here to take you back to Toryn.”
Her coronation? “Tomorrow?” Ashlyn squeaked. “Isn’t that a little soon?”
Skye ignored her question. “I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”
“Oh, joy,” she said weakly as he put his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the entrance.
“It’s actually Aaron’s surprise, but he sent me to get you.” Skye pushed her gently towards the stairs, and she grudgingly began to descend, noting the difference between Skye’s careless treatment and Jackson’s precise manners. She almost mentioned it to Skye, but decided against it. Jackson was the exception, not the rule. Even Drake didn’t hold doors for her and help her down stairs.
“Did you find Kou?” she asked instead, and when Skye didn’t answer immediately, she knew he hadn’t.
“We’re still looking,” he said. “We’ll find him, Ash. I promise.”
She hadn’t really expected him to find Kou. Somehow, in her heart, she knew that Kou would find her when he was ready. And she would welcome the chance to avenge her father.
A flash of white caught her eye as she stepped off the last stair, and she shaded her eyes with one hand, looking towards where the airship had landed. At the base of the ramp, Aaron stood, holding the leap rope of a sorrel horse. The sun was glinting off the mare’s flaxen mane.
“Suki!” Ashlyn shrieked, and took off at a sprint.
The horse nickered and bobbed her head as her spastic owner drew closer, and when Ashlyn threw her arms around Suki’s neck, the mare lowered her chin to rest on Ashlyn’s shoulder, in the closest thing to a hug that a horse could manage.
“Oh, I missed you so much,” Ashlyn murmured, inhaling the mare’s familiar horsey scent. For years, Suki had been her only companion. After being forced to leave the horse on a dock outside the village of Industry, Ashlyn hadn’t been sure if she’d ever see Suki again. She had trained the mare to travel to Rode in the event that they were ever separated, but she’d never dreamed that Aaron would actually find Suki for her.
“Thank you,” she said to Aaron, who was grinning goofily. “Thank you so, so much.”
“You’re welcome, kid,” Aaron said affectionately, reaching out and handing Ashlyn the lead rope. “Figured you could use a pick-me-up, after the month you’ve had.”
Wasn’t that the understatement of the year?
“She was in Rode, just like you said she’d be,” Aaron continued. “Spent most of yesterday teachin’ her how to load into an airship, so you shouldn’t have any more problems with her.”
“Hear that, sweetie?” Ashlyn cooed, stroking Suki’s muzzle affectionately. “I told you there was nothing to be scared of.”
“When can you be ready to leave?” Skye said, appearing beside her.
Buzzkill.
Ashlyn leaned her
forehead against Suki’s, fighting the urge to sulk. “Whenever you’re ready, I guess,” she said. “I just have to check in with Aik before I leave.”
Skye took the lead rope from her and handed it back to Aaron. “Go ahead and find him, then,” he said. “It’s time for us to go.”
Chapter Six
The Places Others Have Gone
Restlyn enveloped Ashlyn in an embrace the moment the younger girl stepped off the airship’s ramp. Ashlyn, who was mentally and physically exhausted after having spent the better part of the day on the airship discussing the Spirit of the Caverns and mapping out potential locations for the Stane of Novem Milia with Skye, hugged her adopted sister back reflexively. When she felt a tremor run through Restlyn’s body though, Ashlyn hugged her tighter, realizing abruptly that Restlyn must have been an emotional wreck after learning that Kou had tracked Lord Li to North Camp.
As if to confirm Ashlyn’s revelation, Restlyn sniffled and said, “I was so worried about you. I’m so sorry about your dad.”
“Me too,” Ashlyn murmured. She was still numb inside over her father’s death, and still highly suspicious of his almost-nightly appearances in her dreams. She wasn’t sure if she believed in an afterlife, but if there was one, it seemed unlikely that her dad would spend his time invading his illegitimate daughter’s dreams, offering cryptic and ultimately useless advice.
Restlyn pulled away, hastily wiping the tears from her own cheeks and offering a watery smile. “I’m so glad you’re finally here- and look at you! Why on earth are you wearing shorts? It’s the middle of winter. But you look great anyway. I can’t even tell that anything happened.”
“I guess I heal pretty fast.” Ashlyn had a fresh batch of scars on the inside of her left arm, but scarring was a small price to pay for surviving an encounter with a hostile wolf. “How are things going around here?” she asked, immediately noticing that all the tourist signs, with directions and advertisements written upon them in Merchant Tongue, had been removed.
The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Page 45
