by Krista Rose
His face went white, his eyes widening with shock and sympathy. “Gods, Brannyn, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I never thought- Gods.”
I swallowed back the tears, took a shaking breath. I could talk about it now, needed to talk about it with someone. “He- he was in the room with Lanya. He’d changed her clothes, dressed her up like a slave. Chained her to the bed. I was so angry, and I challenged him. Wanted to fight him with a sword, like a damned idiot.”
I took a deep swallow of the whiskey, letting it warm me. “Marla tried to stop him. She thought- she knew- he would kill me in a swordfight. He killed her for it. Ran her through, and then kicked her. Like a dog.” I could barely force the next words out past the lump in my throat. “She died because of me.”
“For you.” Tanner took the bottle from me, and I realized my hand was shaking. “She died for you. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” I stared at him, feeling hopeless and lost. “I called her a coward.”
“She was.” He made a face at me. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not talking ill of the dead. We were all cowards back then. It’s not something I like to admit about myself, but I knew what Hamund was doing. I knew it was wrong, and I didn’t try to stop it. None of us did. Only you.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Farmboy. Braver than us all.”
“He had my sister,” I reminded him.
“You would have done it anyway. You’re like that.” He sighed. “We were so convinced that what we were doing was right. If it was right, then what we were doing couldn’t be bad. Hamund couldn’t be bad. But it was bad, wasn’t it? People got hurt. Innocent people.”
“Hamund twisted it.”
“And we let him.” He sighed, and took another pull from the bottle. “Thank you for stopping him.”
I blinked at him, unsure of what to say.
He handed the bottle back to me. “Rigger’s the new Prince now. I went back for a bit, after. They moved, south of the lumber yards, and it’s smaller now. Rigger’s making some changes, most of which protect the women that get rescued. So that’s something.”
“You ever think about going back? For good?”
“No.” He looked up at the sky. “No, I need to do something else now. Something better. I need to help people.”
“Make a difference,” I murmured.
“Exactly.” He gave me a lop-sided grin. “Besides, there’s Felice.”
“I haven’t met her yet.”
“You will.” He glanced around and shuddered. “Come on, Farmboy. Let’s go back to your place and get drunk. I think the ghosts have had enough.”
I smiled, and we swung our arms around each other’s shoulders, leaving behind the smell of smoke and the ashes of the tavern, darkened with whiskey.
KYLEE
17 Llares 578A.F.
I learned to be afraid of the dark, in that first month that I worked for Vanderys, searching for the moret’ethla. I scrambled down dry wells and through dusty abandoned houses, peeking into attics and haylofts and the shadowy alleys behind stores. Each time my heart thundered in my chest, certain I was about to come face-to-face with a pair of glowing white eyes and the rot of death. My ring crackled constantly with my nerves.
I began to jump at every shadow, and huddled under my blankets at night praying for dawn. I tracked the progress of the moon as it waned, my stomach clenching in dread, knowing that there would be another attack because I still couldn’t find the nest.
Because I had failed.
Vanderys tried to calm me, his strange violet eyes growing worried as I struggled beneath the weight of my fear.
It was two weeks after Baedon’s death when he finally spoke to me of it, his voice more abrupt than I was used to. “Perhaps I misread the stars, lyssen. The strain of this hunt is tormenting you.”
I made a face at him from across the fire. “You know, among humans it’s considered rude to tell a lady she looks like hell.”
He blinked, startled. “I didn’t mean-” He stopped, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re deflecting.”
I jerked a shoulder. I did not want to talk about it again; I had already made my choice. The haunted look that lingered in Brannyn’s eyes left me with no other option. I would find the moret’ethla, with or without his permission. “Tell me about Cedralysone.”
He sighed, but thankfully left it alone. “My home is hard to describe in your common tongue, but I shall try.” He leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the sky. “The Cedrani are the Star’s Eldest Children. When the Vadrani and the Delvani- the humans and the dwarves- forsook Diona our creator for the Younger Gods, we remained Her faithful. She gave gifts to all Her children, but we still treasure ours. She gave us Stars.”
I didn’t understand, but I bit my lip rather than interrupting, and waited.
“She sent six Stars to this world, and where they fell the Great Houses built their cities. Cedralysone, our House, built upon the Aurelion, at the heart of the mountains, in what we call the Vale. We have lived there for over two thousand years.”
My curiosity got the better of me, and I blurted, “You live on top of a star?”
“The Aurelion gives us life. It turned our valley into a paradise. We do not suffer from harsh weathers or dry harvests. The Vale is always calm, always peaceful. The animals do not harm each other, even those who would normally be predators. The grass is green, the air is soft. The flowers bloom regardless of the fickle seasons.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“It is. But there is a cost.” His eyes darkened. “We are tied to our Star, you see. While we are in the Vale we do not age like humans or dwarves. We do not grow sick or frail. The Aurelion protects us. But when we venture away from it…” He trailed off.
“You can die,” I finished for him.
He glanced at me. “We are not immortal, lyssen. We can always die. Near the Aurelion, our lives are extended. We grow weaker the longer we are away from it.”
I could see that it made him uncomfortable to speak of it, and so I didn’t press. “Cedralysone sounds wonderful. I would love to see it one day.”
“We do not often welcome Vadrani into the Vale.” His violet eyes were amused. “I do not think the Cedrani would be ready for one such as you.”
I frowned at him. “What does that mean?”
“Only that you are so unlike the other humans that I have met. It is not meant to offend, lyssen. But the Cedrani are very- what is the word I am thinking? Restrained. They would not know what to make of your outbursts. Or your temper.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
His eyes lit with amusement. “Even so.” His head tilted. “Perhaps I will show you, just in case. It is rare that the stars speak to me of humans. There might be a need for you to know.” He reached behind him into one of his packs, and pulled out a folded map.
I scooted closer as he sat up and unfolded it. It was marked with symbols I had never seen, the colors of it faded with age. I did not see any human cities marked on it- or at least none that I recognized.
He pointed to the flat expanse east of what could only be the Siriun Forest. “Here is Fallor.” He traced down to the mountains that separated the green of Valory from the brown deserts of Surak. “The Rhyulian Mountains.” He followed them west, and tapped a symbol tucked between two mountains. “And this is the entrance to the Vale.”
“It looks like a door.”
“That is because it is a door.”
I looked up at him, incredulous. “Are you serious? All that talk about not wanting humans in the Vale, but you have a giant door marking the entrance?”
“We tried digging a hole, but we kept losing it during rockslides.” He smiled, and I realized he was joking. It was so rare I was unprepared for it and simply gaped at him. “The door is bound by magic. Any who try to pass beyond it without the words to break the ward are lost in the Madyrim.”
“The what?”
“The Madyrim. It is the labyrinth that guards the
Vale. It causes those who seek Cedralysone without invitation to lose their minds.”
“You- you created a maze that makes people go insane?” I stared at him, horrified. “What if someone just gets lost? Or wanders in looking for shelter?”
He shook his head. “We are not savages, lyssen. We mastered magic while Vadrani were still living in huts and counting numbers on their toes. The Madyrim only affects those who seek to find Cedralysone, and then only as long as they remain within it. Those who enter unintentionally wander around for an hour before the labyrinth shows them on their way again.” He raised a brow at me. “The intent of our magic is to defend ourselves, not bring harm.”
“Oh.” I flushed, feeling foolish. “So, how do I get past the door?”
“Speak ‘Aurelion dyslan E,’ and stay to the path.”
“What does that mean?”
“Aurelion bless me. Now repeat it.”
I repeated it until I could say it flawlessly, and then Vanderys glanced up at the sky. The sun was finally setting; dark would be descending when I returned to Fallor. “It is getting late. You should go.”
I nodded, and climbed to my feet to mount my horse. Vanderys watched me, his violet eyes mysterious as the shadows grew deeper. I raised a hand in farewell, and walked Nightking out of the clearing, my mind whirling with thoughts of Cedralysone.
It’s just one more reason I need to find the moret’ethla. And soon.
ALYXEN
2 Narens 578A.F.
Our great-great-grandfather was a knight.
I might not have believed it, had it not been for the impressive suit-of-armor standing on display in the front hall of the Rose manor. It gleamed in the lights of the flickering sconces, polished mirror-bright to reflect our amazed faces. A shield, emblazoned with a blackened rose which could only be our family crest, hung beneath a massive greatsword that I had no hope of lifting. A low table was draped with purple velvet, and decorated with the medals of valor and heroism he had earned.
Gavor of the Rose had indeed been a knight of Valory. And when he had finished, he had hung up his sword, and traded a life of bravery and adventure for the dull labor of farming.
I could scarcely comprehend it.
I glanced at Brannyn, wondering if he could make more sense of it than I, and saw that he was looking elsewhere. His face had grown thinner in the two weeks since Baedon’s death, his eyes dark and hollow. He had nightmares nearly every time he slept; even when I was at work, I could feel his panic as he clawed his way out of them.
The only good thing that had come out of the entire fiasco was that Tanner had been named Brannyn’s new partner, signing up the day after the dragon’s attack. Kryssa still watched him, wary of anyone we had met in the Camp, but it was a relief to the rest of us that he had someone reliable to watch his back for once. Night watch was simply too dangerous for our brother to be alone.
Elias emerged from a doorway further down the hall, a trio of young children swirling around his legs. He shooed them away gently, and walked toward us with a wide grin. “Great! You all made it.”
“This-” Kryssa gestured to the front hall, the sweeping staircase that led to the second floor, and the stained glass windows “-is a bit more than we were expecting.”
“It used to belong to that lordling Grandfather Gavor deposed,” he reminded us. “You get used to it.”
“If you say so,” Kylee muttered. She kept her hands firmly in her pockets, as if afraid to touch anything.
“Right. So.” Elias rubbed his hands together. “I have to introduce you to the Dragon, and then we can eat, alright?”
“The Dragon?” Lanya repeated, and Brannyn tensed beside me.
“Great-Aunt Amandine, terror of the Rose clan. She’s ancient, but fierce. Like a dragon.” He grinned, but his eyes were worried. “Once she claims you as family, no one will question it.”
Kryssa raised a brow. “Is someone questioning it now?”
He shifted, awkwardly. “Well, you see, Malachi ran off twenty years ago, and his brother Mychael thinks- Well, there’s just some questions. Malachi didn’t write.”
Kylee began to swear.
“Malachi didn’t do a lot of things,” Brannyn said, his face tightening. I hoped he wasn’t about to set fire to our ancestral home.
Elias sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you, I was just afraid you wouldn’t come. You’re family, and I know it. But when Malachi ran off with Adelie, it was the last anyone ever heard from him.”
“It’s alright, Elias.” Kryssa’s voice was gentle. “We’ll meet the Dragon.”
He bit his lip, and led us into the great room. It was crowded with couches and people, varying in age from infants to the wizened, all talking at once. The conversations trailed off as we entered, and every eye turned to us as we were led toward an elderly woman presiding over the room from an overstuffed chair.
Her pale skin was lined with age and the hair piled atop her head was silver-white, but the bones of her face seemed to be made of steel, sharp and fine and ageless. Her eyes were brilliantly green, and glittered as she studied us.
I realized with shock that she looked like Kryssa.
My hands began to sweat, suddenly nervous.
“So,” the woman began in a deep, resonant voice, “you are Malachi’s supposed children.”
Lanya, being the most diplomatic of us, stepped forward and curtsied. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame Amandine.”
Her lips pursed. “We do not know yet if this is a pleasure, child. We do not even know for certain that you are family.” Her eyes flicked to a man standing against the wall, his fierce scowl nearly hidden by a thick beard. He looked enough like our father for me to guess that he must be Mychael, our uncle, and I flinched inwardly, wondering if he possessed the same cruelty.
I began to long for our apartment.
“We are the children of Malachi Rose and Adelie Moonsdaughter,” Lanya said carefully. “We only wanted to meet our family-”
The man- Mychael, I was sure of it- barked a laugh. “You mean you came to steal from us. It’s been twenty years since Malachi left. That land should belong to my son Greagor. I won’t see it given to a bunch of thieving liars.”
Lanya gaped. “What-”
“That’s enough, Mychael.” Amandine shot him a look. “You know better than to interrupt. The land belongs to the family, as it always has. Would you really deny your brother his inheritance, or his heirs?”
“They’re not family.” He glared, but slumped back against the wall, chastened.
“Um, excuse me, Madame Amandine.” Lanya kept her voice polite, though our curiosity was burning. “What do you mean by ‘inheritance’?”
“I knew it,” Mychael muttered.
Amandine ignored him. “Malachi was left a sizeable portion of land by his father, Tallus.” Her green eyes were searching us, looking for- what? “It’s been held in trust for him and his heirs.”
What the hell are we supposed to do with land? Kylee sounded irritated. We can’t take it with us.
Kryssa? Lanya glanced at our sister, uncertain. What do I say? Do any of us even want to live on a farm again?
She looked overwhelmed. I- I don’t know, dear heart.
Well, I’m not living there. Kylee’s chin jutted forward, stubborn. It’s just one more thing holding us to our father. I say you tell them to take their land and-
Just tell her we don’t want it, Brannyn interrupted wearily.
“Forgive us, Madame, but we don’t want the inheritance.” Lanya said after our pause, struggling to keep her shoulders straight under the weight of Amandine’s gaze. “We have no use for land.”
“See, I knew they weren’t truly Roses.” Mychael leaned forward, his eyes bright and keen. “Malachi’s children would never-”
“Silence.” Her eyes were hard as emeralds as she stared at Lanya. “Why would you turn down your birthright, if you are who you say you are? The land runs in our blood.”<
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“We have no need of it.” She shrugged, helpless. “If Mychael is already tending to it, then it should belong to him.”
The room filled with surprised murmurs. Amandine frowned. “It is a nice thought, child, but you cannot surrender Malachi’s land without his permission.”
Kylee started to laugh; I elbowed her sharply as everyone looked at her.
Lanya took a deep breath. “Our father- Malachi- is dead, Madame. Over a year ago.”
The light faded from Mychael’s eyes and his face greyed as he sagged against the wall. “No.”
I glanced at Elias. He had known this for months. Why hadn’t he bothered to tell them?
Amandine’s eyes softened for a moment. “I am sorry for your loss.”
That makes one of us.
Shut up, Kylee. I glared at her. Whether you like it or not, this is our family. We’re supposed to have family.
This isn’t family. This is a bunch of strangers we’ve never met. And they made Father. You really want to find out where he got all of his crazy from?
We should have left you at home.
Enough. Kryssa leveled both of us with a stare that nearly matched the one Amandine had given Mychael.
We both gulped, guiltily. Sorry, Kryssa.
“It has been twenty years since we heard from Malachi,” Amandine said softly. She looked at Brannyn. “You look like him.”
His jaw tightened. “Yes, Madame.”
She sighed. “Unfortunately, without Malachi’s presence, it is impossible to verify if you are actually his children or not. We cannot claim you as family without some kind of proof.”
“Proof?” Kylee stalked forward, and I jerked her back. “Why would we want proof that we’re related to him?”
Mychael’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “My brother was a good man, and you will not-”
She laughed, bitterly, ignoring the rest of us as we tried to silence her. “Your brother was a monster.”
“How dare you?” He stepped away from the wall, his face furious as his hands fisted at his sides. “You come here, into this home, and spout lies about being family, then try to slander my brother?”
