by Cole Pain
The eyes watched Ren sink to his knees and dig into his pack. After a dragon’s breath, Ren withdrew a piece of dried apple and tossed it to the creature. The eyes disappeared as the creature bent to sniff the bounty.
Taking a fallen branch, Ren ignited the tip and swung it out before of him. The clearing was immediately illuminated, revealing what stood only cubits away.
Wide, brown eyes blinked in the sudden light. Ivory scales coating the creature’s sides and front shimmered a pearly radiance. Rust-colored fur grew long around the creature’s feet and neck, short around its muzzle, and shivered in the slight breeze. Its long tail curved upward in curiosity.
It was a kota, one of the most loved magical creatures of all time.
The men stood still as Ren took another step forward, holding out another piece of dried fruit. The kota started to prance. Its ivory hooves glistened in the night, drumming a beautiful rhythm.
As Ren moved closer Quinton came out of his daze and urged him back, but Ren paid him no heed. Markum touched Quinton’s arm, silently telling him all would be well. Kotas were gentle, beautiful animals that only used magic when attacked. Their magic was a stunning ray that emitted from a curved horn on the crown of their head. As of yet the horn of the small creature was only a short stump. It would soon grow to be almost the length of a man’s forearm.
When Ren knelt before the creature, the kota leaned against him and gently lifted another piece of apple out of Ren’s hand.
Chapter 14
The sun had yet to rise but all the men were up. With the group splitting three ways the lighthearted banter was strained. Everyone worried about what would happen after they parted ways, Ren especially. Michel watched as Ren’s eyes darted from Bentzen’s group to Renee and then back again, brooding over the dangers with a furrowed brow.
Michel went back to stuffing his pack. It was going to be a hot day. The morning’s air was muggy and the clouds were heavy with rain. Summer was coming to an end, but it was ending in full force.
Years ago, after leaving Stardom, he had become fearful of goodbyes, even good ones. If he poured a cup of water he never finished it. He always left a sip or two. He knew it was foolish, but it was who he had become. Endings didn’t bode well for him, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach that when he and Renee parted this time he would never see her again.
Stealing a glance at her, his breath caught. The morning’s light outlined the shape of her body against her thin smock, but she was still the queen. Even though Wyrick was dead he had nothing to offer her. She deserved castles and riches, nothing he could possibly provide.
He forced his eyes back on his pack and shoved some dried meat inside. The past few days had been wonderful. He was with Renee, gazing into her soft blue eyes, the scent of her hair filling his lungs. They had talked about each other’s lives, of the landscape, of Ren. They had shared dreams and visions of the future. Never once had they discussed their goodbye, and never once had she insinuated he would become part of her life, but he was with her, and that was all that mattered.
He hadn’t touched her other than to help her off the horse, but when he held the reins her arms rubbed his hands and her hair brushed his chest. He had never loved another, and he never would. Razons were known for their loyalty, and stubbornness.
Ren was a Razon as well, in every way. Ren felt as much or more for Aidan as Michel did for Renee. The men had questioned Ren about Aidan, and he had responded to their questions as best he could without divulging his true feelings, but Michel knew Ren’s heart. He saw the truth in Ren’s eyes.
The girl had given her life to Ren without even knowing him. The bond of the Maritium was sacred and complete. Michel didn’t know if Ren knew the sacrifice Aidan had made. Now the bond was growing without Ren even realizing it. Michel could only pray Aidan could be made whole again or Ren would never be complete. But as much as Michel hoped for Aidan’s restoration, he also feared it. Ren and Aidan could never become more than what they were now. It was forbidden.
Michel glanced at Ren and smiled. The kota hadn’t left Ren’s side all night. The creature leaned against Ren’s leg as if it were a dog and not a creature that would grow to be the size of a large horse. Ren’s hand casually rested on the kota’s head as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Michel shook his head, chuckling.
Although half-starved, thin, and fairly weak the kota was more beautiful than Michel had ever imagined it could be. The head of the animal was flatter than a horse, almost like a deer. Its neck was full, with a thick mane of the rust-colored fur curling in all directions and running down and under its chest. Its muzzle was the same color as the scales, and a lighter fur surrounded its eyes, accentuating its gentle observation.
When Michel turned back to Renee he was surprised to find her looking in his direction. His heart swelled when she blushed and turned away like a young girl, but sunk again as he remembered what the morning would bring. He was leaving her again, and he hadn’t even begun to tell her how he felt.
Michel shoved his apprehensions aside and quickly tied his pack. He may never see her again. He couldn’t let his misgivings and concerns mask the truth. His life, or hers, could be taken at any time. He had to show her how much he loved her.
When his pack was tied he looped it over his shoulder and walked to her. Her back was turned and her soft voice tickled his ear as she whispered to her new mount. With a tentative hand, he brushed her shoulder. Her lips parted in surprise when she turned, but she quickly lowered her eyelids and reached for his hand. He barely heard Bentzen say they were ready to depart.
He opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out.
She knew how he felt. Couldn’t she read it in his eyes?
He squeezed her hand, trying to convey all the love he held inside. He felt empty, knowing his action wasn’t enough. But what else could he do? Renee studied him, eyes questioning. Then, without warning, she kissed him.
It was so quick he questioned if it had happened at all. When he was finally able to take the air into his lungs he drew in her warm breath. Every breath he had ever thought of her, every time he had ever dreamed of kissing her, he hadn’t expected it to be so sweet. Nothing and everything had changed since he left. Now her touch meant more to him than it ever had before. He loved her with all his soul. Every breath he had ever taken was because of her.
Her blue eyes searched his face. Did he love her? May the Maker help him.
He pulled her to him, hands running over her face and down her arms. He didn’t care who saw. He was with the woman he loved and it may be the last time he would ever see her. He pulled her tighter. Her nails dug into his back with reckless need. Their embrace was more sensual than anything he could have ever imagined.
When they finally parted Michel ran his hand down her cheek, too overcome to speak.
“I love you, Michel, with everything I was and am. I love you and only you,” Renee said.
“You don’t know how much I’ve thought of you,” Michel said, “wished you were there beside me. Blessed Fates, how I love you still.”
Renee closed her eyes, ingraining his words to memory. He kissed her forehead, once again feeling the bitter ache of goodbye.
“I want you to be safe. I would never forgive myself if you came to harm.”
Renee nodded, clutching his arm as if he were trying to pull away.
Bentzen rode up beside them. Michel swallowed back his emotions and helped Renee on her horse. When she was settled she looked down at him, lips twisting into a flirtatious grin. “Soon, my lord, you’ll stop sending me away.”
Michel chuckled and stepped closer. He tugged on her hand until she leaned down and met his lips in another kiss. This time it was soft, and lingered between pain and sadness. He held her to him, forcing her eyes to linger on his own. “Soon, my queen, you’ll be begging me to leave.”
“Not on your life,” Renee whispered before she raised a mischievous eyebrow. “I’m not the one who�
�ll be begging.”
Before he could reply, she spurred her horse forward to meet Marva, stopping only to say a few words to Ren. Michel watched with mixed emotions. Part of him was exuberant Renee held thoughts of being with him in the future, but somehow the other part of him knew they may never have the chance.
Tol sat in front of Bentzen, face lit with excitement. He was going on another adventure as a knight of the crown prince. Michel couldn’t help but chuckle as Tol bowed to the men with pride. Ren had given the boy hope, in more ways than one.
Although Ren smiled, Michel saw the worry in his eyes. But Marva, Renee, and Tol would be safer away from the main party, and Bentzen would keep them from harm.
Ren heaved a worried sigh. Michel felt a pang of remorse when he realized he hadn’t been there for Ren the past few days. Although he commented when asked, he had been too focused on Renee to offer much support.
“It’s better they leave, Ren. Bentzen will see they arrive safely, and the band will work. We tested it.”
“Correction, the band works with the experience we have.”
A chill went up Michel’s spine. Ren was right. Although Neki couldn’t sense the needles in Tol’s mind when the band was on that didn’t mean Ista couldn’t. What if Ista could still sense Tol without Tol knowing?
No, they couldn’t second-guess every decision they made. The needles were probably made of partial silver, and because silver absorbed magic they acted like a conductor inside the brain. The silver part of them absorbed the magic and transmitted the power down the needle’s shaft, stimulating the brain to feel a certain way. The band, because it was solid silver, blocked the magic Ista sent, absorbing it before it reached the needles inside Tol’s mind.
Tol would be fine. So would Renee. So why did he have a sense of foreboding?
A passing cloud suddenly dampened the light of the rising sun. A distant rumble of thunder rolled past.
Renee turned. When she found his eyes her face lit in a beautiful smile, but there was something else scrawled in her features. It was the same look he had seen that day so long ago. With sudden revelation he saw in her eyes what he too felt inside.
He would never see her again.
His legs tensed to run after her, but before he could do so she turned and spurred her horse into a canter.
His heart melted inside him.
- - -
“My lord, a messenger from Zier just arrived. He wishes to gain an audience.”
Raymond studied Bostic. The king’s eyes were sullen. Sass’s death had driven him almost to the point of insanity. Her body still rested in an adjoining room. The burial would be the next day.
Raymond was slightly nervous about the burial. It had shaken him when Sass had come to them an old woman, but what was happening to her now shook him even more so.
She was getting younger.
He had just seen her body. She was far younger than when she had first appeared. If he stood with her long enough he could almost see her skin smoothing, her curves accentuating, her hair lightening. It scared him more than the ten winds.
Sass was dead. Her body was cold. How could she be changing back into what she was before?
It had something to do with whatever had happened to her, but he had no idea what that was. Part of him thought they should burn her body, just in case something was in her that could cause harm, but he didn’t want to mention his thoughts to Bostic. Although the release of a body by fire was common, he knew the king wouldn’t want Sass taken by flames. Bostic needed a tangible place to visit her. She had been taken too early as it was. How could Raymond suggest an incineration?
“Please, by all means, send the man in. We always like to hear from Wyrick and Ren.”
Raymond caught the sarcasm in Bostic’s voice. The sentry did as well.
“My lord,” the sentry replied, visibly nervous, “the man comes with a message from Valor.”
Bostic’s eyebrows rose as he cleared his throat. “Valor? Well this should prove interesting.”
The sentry departed and soon a tall, thin man dressed in Crape’s colors of green and gray stepped through the door. His hair was slicked back and he wore a sly grin Raymond didn’t trust. He bowed with pompous confidence before coming to stand at attention. Bostic observed the man for several long breaths before nodding.
“My lord,” the man began. “I’m here to deliver grave news. Wyrick, the king of Zier and supreme ruler of Newlan, is dead. Sadly, his only son, the crown prince, Ren Razon, has been accused of his murder.
“The crown prince has long plotted to overtake the Lands. A sorceress from the old Alcazar detected Ren’s deception and emerged from hiding to help defeat him. I’m sure you, or some of your people, felt an acute pain days ago. This pain was the Quy being reborn. The sorceress had to rebirth the power in order to fight the crown prince.
“Although the guards of many kingdoms tried to subdue Ren, he escaped. Valor Kahn, the new supreme ruler of Newlan, has declared the crown prince a traitor and requests you send word if you see or hear from the prince.”
The messenger paused, but when Bostic made no comment, he continued. “Valor now petitions your assistance in stomping out the tyranny Ren will try to bring to fruition. Ren is sure to regroup and attack the throne. Ren needs to be found and stopped before he can gain in both strength and number. The sorceress, Ista, has offered to train the Lands in magic. The sorceress is now seeking an army of people with the Quy to defeat the prince. Valor strongly extends Ista’s invitation to your people in Ketes. She will begin training immediately.
“My lord, that isn’t all the news I have.” Raymond noticed a thin line of sweat had broken out on the messenger’s brow. The man licked his lips. “A battle ensued after Ren’s escape. Some men fought for Ren, others for the crown, but many died. Your son, Paul, was among the tragedies. It isn’t known for whom he fought, but he died with honor, fighting for what he believed.”
Raymond’s breath caught. Both of Bostic’s children were gone. It wasn’t right. How could the Maker allow such a thing?
Bostic didn’t move. He just sat staring at the messenger without any sign of emotion. If Raymond didn’t know the king he would have sworn the man in the chair was a statue. The messenger cleared his throat. The tenseness in the room deepened. Raymond placed a hand on Bostic’s shoulder, trying to send the king some small comfort. After a long pause, Bostic rose and walked to the messenger.
“Let me see if I understand,” Bostic said, looking past the messenger at some distant scene. His tone was apathetic but the muscles in his back quivered with his words. Bostic wasn’t a small man. The king could pin the messenger in a heartbeat if he was so inclined. The messenger looked at Raymond with uncertainty. Raymond stepped closer, suddenly uneasy, but before Raymond could speak Bostic’s voice sliced through the air like a saber.
“Newlan wasn’t enough for the crown prince, so years ago Ren began plotting to kill his father.” Bostic paused and casually rubbed his beard. “So Ren kills Wyrick to gain control of Newlan, something he already had by the way. After the king’s death, Valor, the thorn in Wyrick’s side, seizes control of Zier along with this woman who has magic.” Bostic looked over at the sentry and smiled. “And now Valor has strongly extended an invitation for me to send my men to him and leave my own lands unprotected?”
“My lord, um, I only come with the message.”
Bostic tensed. “Do you believe your message, soldier?”
The messenger turned to Raymond with questioning eyes.
“I asked you a question! Do you believe your message?”
“Yes, I believe –”
The messenger didn’t have a chance to reply, and Raymond didn’t have a chance to reach Bostic. As soon as the answer had been given Bostic plunged his knife into the man’s chest. The messenger barely had a chance to register shock before his face went slack in death.
Raymond stopped by the king, watching helplessly as the messenger’s blood bega
n to stain the marble floor.
“That’s for Ren,” Bostic said, voice breaking. “May he come back safely.”
The helplessness in Bostic’s voice was suddenly gone. He turned to Raymond, eyes lit with revenge. “Seal the walls. No one leaves Ketes. No one enters. Now.”
- - -
They had ridden hard since they had left Ren, each wanting to reach Ista’s camp as quickly as possible. In the beginning rain had poured down, heightening Michel’s sense of foreboding. In his mind he knew the group’s separation was the best choice, but his heart kept insisting something was amiss.
Bentzen was a skilled swordsman and fiercely determined. If something were to happen, Renee would be as safe with him as she would in Ren’s larger group. And Ren was with Neki and Quinton, two loyal and exceptional men. Still, Michel’s feeling of dread persisted.
As they approached the Cliffs, cover was scant, and it was hard for them to remain hidden. The Cliffs were hauntingly beautiful, with skeletal trees and red-tipped ferns covering their peaks. A plethora of caves were said to reside among them, but none were used, for when magic was prevalent the Cliffs had been the home of the wolven. Those daring to venture inside the caves after magic’s destruction said they were haunted by the screams of the souls the wolven had killed.
As they rode closer an eerie whistle spun in the muggy breeze, and Michel knew it would only increase the closer they rode to the Cliffs. The Cliffs were famous for their high-pitched trilling. The scholar inside him knew the Cliff’s caverns fed air through holes and around angles that forced the current faster, causing the trill, but a shiver shot up Michel’s spine just the same. Although he had never believed the bewitching tales of the Cliffs, he now knew the effects the trilling could have.
Tol had grown up with that sound. He wondered how the boy had retained his sanity.
A light mist began to fall, adding to the eeriness of the area. The red-tipped ferns looked like blood against the green vegetation and the skeletal trees seemed to droop in death.
