Child of the Kaites (The Firstborn's Legacy Book 1)

by Beth Wangler

  “O-okay.” It sounds like a question, but Nhardah-Lev does not notice. “Wait, you said Champions. Who is the other?”

  “Did I? Don’t worry about it.” Nhardah’s eyes glint in the sun. “I must be off on business now. Peace to you.”

  To the Firstborn’s back I reply, “May it also return to you.”

  Alone, I breathe deeply and exhale. The smile stays on my face of its own accord. I do have a great calling on my life, after all. My original interpretation of Taikah’s prophecy was right.

  Where do I start?

  Lev’s instruction returns to me. If I am leaving, first I must prepare. I may not know how to talk to a king and royals, or how to gather Maraiah, or even where exactly our promised homeland is, but I do know how to pack my few belongings. I can begin there.

  Chapter 12

  By the time evening falls, my scrolls and the most serviceable of my clothing are bundled in a sack and Maylani’s bridal shawl is finished. When Nhardah-Lev calls, I will be ready. All that remains is for me to dress for the night’s festivities.

  Tonight is the eve of the wedding. Iranine custom reserves this night for a private dinner at which only the bride’s close family is allowed. Now that everyone knows I’m not technically family, I’m excluded from Mayli’s last dinner as an unmarried woman.

  “If I had my way, you would be with us,” Maylani says. The candlelight from inside the house and the warmth of the evening sky shine in her brown eyes, casting soft light over her cascading curls. Her simple white dress sets off her glowing bronze skin. Even in plain clothing, she is beautiful.

  “There’s nothing I can do, though,” Mayli continues. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be with Saviayr and his family, and Nadina will make sure you have fun. You will be fine, right?”

  “Mayli.” I lay a hand on her arm. “I understand. I’ll be fine. Go, enjoy the night with your family.”

  Maylani nods, hesitates, and leaves me on the porch by the front door. I won’t see her again until she appears for the ceremony tomorrow morning.

  The bride’s family must have a private dinner, but the groom’s family and the rest of Ira will feast and dance in the canvas tents erected on the cliff over my secret beach. No matter how much I want to hide until the wedding’s over and I can focus on inciting a rebellion, I must join the party. I take a deep breath, force my lips into a smile, and step down from the porch.

  Tomorrow’s celebration will reflect the wealth of the bride and bridegroom’s families, but tonight is the whole island’s undertaking. I pause when the towering tents come into view, bold against the sunset sky. The beauty surprises me. “Thank you, Aia,” I whisper in appreciation.

  Inside, tables and benches flank the tents’ walls, leaving the centers open for mingling. Later, when the musical Iranines begin performing, dancing couples will fill the free space.

  Most islanders are here already. They feast on wheat bread, pomegranates, figs, cheeses, lentil soup, and an unusual abundance of roasted pork, beef, and mutton.

  It surprises me that I know the names of everyone I see. Then I feel foolish for being surprised. Ira is small; I would have had to try to avoid meeting everyone on the island in the past few years.

  Across this tent, I glimpse someone I know better than I know the Iranines. For a brief moment, Saviayr and I lock eyes.

  I still love him. It washes over me like a wave at high tide. I’ll never forget him, the boy who found me in the river, who swore to be my partner and free our people. But I have to separate myself from the past. He’s marrying Maylani; I’m fighting for Maraiah.

  I turn my head, and then Savi is gone, caught up in the crush.

  Filling a plate, I eat in silence. Feasting slows and melodies trickle through the tent walls. The music draws those young enough to dance as the moons draw the tides. For a couple of songs, I join in and try to forget about tomorrow’s wedding. Then I glimpse Saviayr, closer than before. The dancers part between us.

  Any enjoyment I could have found in tonight evaporates. I can’t bear talking with him tonight. There is no point in remaining and risking running into him.

  Besides, I’ll be gone in two days. It doesn’t matter what the Iranines think of my absence. I have nothing to prove to these people who have done nothing to protest Izyphor’s wickedness.

  Alone, I push between people.

  Nihae and Elesekk appear out of nowhere. “Rai,” Elesekk exclaims, a smile breaking over his face. “We were wondering if you were here.”

  “Come, sit with us a spell and watch the dancing,” Nihae urges, pointing to empty cushions at the side of the tent.

  I feel like Savi could pop up behind me at any moment, and my chest tightens. I can’t. I have to get out of here.

  “I’m sorry, I have to…” I pull away from Nihae’s hand, gesturing vaguely, and squeeze on through the merrymaking.

  At last, I duck out into the night. The cool sweetness of the air outside reveals how stuffy the tents are. I breathe deeply of the sea breeze and feel the knot in my chest start to unwind.

  When I’m back in Izyphor gathering the Maraians, nights will be almost as hot as the day. There will be no cool stirring of the air as there is here. I relish the refreshment.

  Since it may be my last opportunity, and since I can’t return home yet, I should bid my spot of beach farewell.

  At the bottom of the path, soft sand fades into a bed of sea shells and rocks revealed by the abnormally-low tide. I lay my head against the tree’s trunk and wrap an arm around it. There is no quiver of energy beneath its bark, nor the slightest unnatural movement in its limbs. This tree, though alive, feels dead to me. My kaites aren’t here. I am alone.

  I’m alone, and I’m going to have to free Maraiah alone. I have no idea how to start being the leader of a revolt.

  Approaching feet crunch the gravel behind me. It’s probably Nhardah.

  Maybe I won’t have to do this completely alone.

  “How can I stand up to the Izyphorns in a way that won’t get me promptly arrested and killed?” I ask the Firstborn.

  “Um, what?”

  My heart flies into my throat as I whirl. “Savi,” slips out reflexively.

  Saviayr crunches a couple steps closer, fists shoved into his tunic pockets. “What do you mean about standing up to Izyphor?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing, forget it. I thought you were someone else.”

  Savi’s lips twitch. “Clearly. Who? Are you planning something?”

  I haven’t told anyone except Nhardah. Savi might be the best person to tell next. After all, this was the dream that kept us going through our adolescence. It was what brought us together in the first place.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask instead. “Your wedding is tomorrow.”

  “I know that.” Saviayr moves closer, close enough that I can see his eyes. The indree shine in them. He stares at me with single-minded intensity, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters right now. It’s too much. My throat swells. “Please, tell me. What are you planning? Are you going to do it?”

  Even with our time apart, Savi still won’t let me skirt around him. He still sees into my words and is trying to make me share my burden with someone. That was how I first realized that I loved him, back in the slave camp, and tonight it might be my undoing.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I lie. Anything that will get him to leave.

  “Yes, you do.” Savi steps closer still. He takes my hand. His skin is warm. “Rai, if you’re going to go against Izyphor and free our people, I want to help.”

  “You have to think about Maylani,” I say.

  Saviayr blinks. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  I pull my hand from his and turn away. “I understand. You’ve moved on. Savi, it’s okay. I just want you both to be happy. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” Saviayr steps to the side, to where I can see him in the
corner of my eye.

  I turn my head away. “Please, Savi. If we’re going to be friends, we have to put the past behind us.”

  Saviayr grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. “If you’d just let me—”

  I push his hands away. “I need to be alone. I have to focus on the future now. Go. Be with Maylani.”

  “I don’t want to be with Maylani!” Savi shouts, mindless of the reveling crowd above us.

  His words stab me twice, once with joy, once with despair. I step back, shaking my head. “No.” I step back again, and again, and again. “No, you’re just saying that. You don’t mean it. You’re marrying Maylani tomorrow. Savi, don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to her.”

  When Savi takes a step toward me and starts to speak, I know I can’t hear any more. He’s confused, and he’s forgetting his promise. He’ll regret this in the morning, and I’ll regret it the rest of my life.

  So I turn and run. Savi’s between me and the ramp, so I splash into the ocean.

  “Rai,” Savi calls.

  I can’t. I can’t listen. I suck in a breath and dive under the oncoming wave. The sea may be dangerous, but I’d rather trust myself to it than to him right now. All the water can take is my life.

  When I surface, I’m too far away to hear Savi over the break of waves against the nearby cliffs. I stay there, though my skirts grow heavy, until Savi finally climbs back up the hill.

  Only then do I struggle back to the beach, where I collapse on the sand. I wring the water out of my clothes as best as I can, but it’s warm enough not to matter much. They’ll dry in a couple hours.

  I stare at the moonslit sea, blinking to stop the water from blurring with the sky. Deep breaths—that will keep the tears at bay.

  Why did this happen tonight, of all times? Why not when he first appeared at Tatanda’s door? It’s too late to change anything, and I need to focus on taking a stand against the greatest empire in the world.

  It’s not fair. The injustice overcomes my last restraint. I crouch at the edge of the sea and let the tears slide down my face.

  I know, just as I know that the sun will shine in the morning and that the Izyphorns will never release the Maraians easily, that I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love Savi.

  Tomorrow, he marries Maylani.

  The next day, I announce revolution against Izyphor.

  Within the week, I’ll probably be dead.

  Chapter 13

  The world sinks into the half-sleep, half-waking realm where dream and reality mingle. Cold fingers slip up my ankle, but I know it’s a dream. I’m alone on the beach.

  I dream the sea rolls up the shore to cover me like a blanket, though the tide is out.

  The dream-water creeps up my shoulders. It squeezes my throat and I jolt fully awake. I push against the sand, trying to sit up, but find I’m encased by water. It presses my arms to my sides. It squeezes my throat. It cuts off my breath.

  I gasp for air. Sea rushes into my mouth, salty and bitter.

  Aia, save me! I lash my arms and legs around. It’s like moving through a pool of stone. With all of my strength, I try to claw my way up the sand, but the water paralyzes me with relentless force.

  Down the beach, the tide is still low.

  My lungs burn. I want to scream. My body strains for air, but something keeps my nose and throat closed.

  I’m drowning.

  Time rushes and slows down. It’s hard to think, to do anything except fight for air. Spots fill my vision. Everything goes black.

  I’m dead.

  Then I’m not. Fire burns up my throat, water pouring from my lungs. The water’s not over my face, but I can’t get enough air. I gag. Screams fill the air.

  The water gripping my throat squeezes again, harder, then it’s gone and Nhardah is here, dragging me toward the cliffs.

  A wave lifts from the ocean, spirals sideways, loops around the water that’s reaching back toward me. My feet scramble over the loose sand. Another scream rends the air, soul-chilling, inhuman.

  Arms form a vice around my chest. Nhardah drags me to my feet. I stumble after him, but my vision’s still spotty and the tree picks up its roots and flies at me.

  Aia-hae!

  A shout—Nhardah’s voice—mixes the tongues of Maraiah and the kaites.

  Wind shreds the tree.

  Splinters shower my head. My feet slip into the sand. The beach turns to soup and slurps at my ankles.

  Nhardah yanks, and I leap. An invisible force picks me up, and I’m standing at the base of the path up the cliff, Nhardah ahead of me, gripping my hand. He’s already running when our feet touch the sloped soil.

  Part way up, wind rakes my hair into my face. The path smooths like pottery. Pebbles roll by. My sandals grip the polished ground a moment longer, but their friction gives out and we’re falling, falling, back to the liquid sand, Nhardah smashing into me. The breath rushes out of me. I think that, even if Nhardah can’t die, he could still crush me.

  I lunge for the cliffside and claw for handholds. The air pulls me back and down, but Nhardah pushes me up, and invisible hands drag me toward the top. My dress is tattered, my knees and elbows are bleeding, but I push myself up onto the hilltop and roll away from the edge.

  A surge of sea lunges up, floats midair, and splats down, and we scramble closer to the nearby greasewood shrubs.

  Nhardah’s on his feet, dragging me onto the hill. I stumble after him.

  We race on the path over the island while winds rage and plants lunge and the ground billows.

  We’ve reached the top of the grazing hill. Nhardah halts. I smack into him. Is there a worse enemy ahead? I grab his arm and heave. Nothing looks different, just seething kaites and aivenkaites convulsing the world around us.

  This is worse than my worst nightmare. This was my deepest fear as a child. No battle I witnessed from a distance came close to terrifying me this much.

  Panic chokes me. My breath races.

  Still Nhardah doesn’t move.

  Then metal glints through the sky: two swords. They slash at dirt and plants and wind that hurl themselves at me. Wherever they hit, the attack explodes and a wail bursts out.

  I see no hands wielding the swords, but they move with greater speed than any human.

  “The Swords of Champions,” Nhardah explains without my asking. “Forged by the kaites and blessed by Aia Himself. They are the only two weapons on Orrock that can harm aivenkaites.”

  Clouds pour into the sky, blotting out the two moons and the indree. Even the Swords of Champions mostly disappear. Whispers, shrieks, slurps, and thumps whirl around.

  I fall into a ball and claw my fingers through my loose hair, locking my elbows together in front of my face.

  Aia, save. Aia, save. It’s an endless chant rolling through my head. My lips move, but I can’t tell if I’m speaking out loud. I try to make the prayer fill my whole mind, blocking out the sounds of battle.

  It would just take one aivenkaite getting past the kaites.

  Aia, save.

  It could slit my throat in half a heartbeat.

  Aia, save.

  It could shred me like the kaites shredded that tree.

  Aia, save.

  I’m powerless.

  Aia, save.

  Through the terror, I feel arms wrap around me. A scream forces itself through my mouth, longer than I knew was possible. I twist, and the arms give. Human, then, not aivenkaite.

  A deep, human voice fills my ear. “Raiballeon, it’s me.” Nhardah. “They can’t kill me, remember. I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

  That’s what my kaites always vowed: We’ll protect you. The promise sinks just a little past my fear.

  Think, Rai. Breathe.

  The kaites are here. They’ll protect me.

  The Firstborn can’t be killed, even by aivenkaites. He’ll protect me.

  Nhardah tugs me closer. I reach for him blindly, scrambling for protection. He wraps around me
like a father sheltering a child woken by a nightmare. Like a father, he starts to sing.

  Nhardah’s voice rises over the clamor, singing in Maraian. It’s a song I’ve never heard. The melody tugs at me, calming my racing pulse, and I strain to catch the words:

  “Aia save us from the foe:

  Aivenkaites that whisper no.

  They say you're no longer near.

  They would have us filled with fear.

  Aia make your power known.

  You alone are on the throne.”

  Peace slides through me as he sings. The words stand as a reminder of the real power tonight and always. A tear slides down my cheek. Aia cares for His people. He’ll protect me.

  As Nhardah sings again, I risk looking back at the swords. The clouds shift again, letting Jshai Pot, the large moon, shine on the weapons. As I calm more, I see that each sword is different. The trail of shimmering dust down the center of one’s blade and the swirl of wire around its grip reflect the moon’s light, almost glowing in the night. The black spike down the center of the other sword’s blade seems to drink the darkness, and the triangles sprouting from the pointed guard make it doubly deadly.

  The swords keep fighting. Nhardah keeps singing. I look away from the battle and concentrate on the way the kaites taught me to sleep when I was scared. Piece by piece, I relax my body: First my toes, then my ankles, then knees, working the way up. I lean into Nhardah, like I once leaned against my father when I first learned to fear the slavemaster.

  By the time I relax my shoulders and Nhardah enters the fourth rendition of his song, my fears have loosened. Fighting for my life has exhausted me. As I calm, the last of my energy evaporates. “You won’t leave me?” The words slur.

  “Not tonight,” Nhardah promises.

  With his reassurance, the last fight drains out of me. I let my mind relax. Despite the battle that rages on, I fall asleep.

  Chapter 14

  The morning dawns with strong light on a ravaged hilltop. No plants within three arms’ lengths remain in the ground. Their roots lay atop the dirt, churned so that roots lie on the surface and the stems poke facedown into the soil.