by Narro, B. T.
Cleve got on Nulya’s back and steered her toward a group of guards that had a quiver for him. As he took it, he asked, “When a young lady comes to the front of the castle looking for us, can you explain where we’re going and let her know we’re sorry?”
“We will,” one guard answered.
Then they were off, galloping through the streets of Kyrro City. People could hear them coming and quickly cleared from their path.
Cleve couldn’t get the image of Reela out of his mind—she probably was just then finding out that they’d left. Next she would hear what he and Rek were doing and how dangerous it was. It would cross her mind that she might never see them again. Then she would become livid. She would figure out why they’d chosen not to tell her, but it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t make her feel any better.
“Will Reela forgive us?” Cleve asked, steering his horse alongside Rek’s.
“She’s not one to hold a grudge, though I’ve never done anything like this.”
“What did she say about your scar?”
The corner of Rek’s mouth scrunched. “She wondered how I got it. I told her all about the Elves I met, about their rules against psyche, how they wanted me to swear an oath never to use it again. She was disgusted. I told her about the war there, and how you might go back when you’re done here.”
Cleve nearly fell off his horse. “How did you even know that? Can your psyche be that strong to pick up specific thoughts?” Cleve felt his old distrust creeping back in.
“I didn’t know that from psyche. I guessed it from the way you’ve spoken about what happened in Greenedge. I know you would like to cure the young man as well, what’s his name?”
“Jek Trayden.”
“But I don’t know how you expect to do that. You told me it’s too much Sartious Energy that’s causing his vicious nightmares, right?”
“There’s a chemist who might know of something…Steffen Duroby.” Cleve figured Rek probably knew the name, given that Steffen and Reela were friends from childhood. “Have you met him?”
“No, but I know much about him,” Rek replied. “He might know of something, indeed.”
I just hope I get the chance to ask him. Cleve began to wonder what his chances were of coming out alive after killing the Slugari that led the Krepps. Rek had told him about Doe and Haemon on the boat ride back from Greenedge. If their magic really was as strong as Rek said, they could use a Sartious Energy wall to block the arrow if they saw it coming.
“So you and Reela are together now?” Rek asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell her about Jessend?”
“There’s nothing to say,” Cleve stated, figuring his long talks in bed with Jessend would only make Reela jealous.
“You don’t think she’ll want to know that a Takary princess wanted to marry you?”
Oh, that. “I’m not sure. If I do go back to Goldram, Reela might worry it would be for Jessend.”
“I don’t think she would, and you know Reela—she’ll find out anyway if you try to keep it from her.”
They spoke for hours as they rode, stopping briefly to eat and let their horses rest when the sun was overhead. Cleve realized then that Rek hadn’t told him if he wanted to stay in Kyrro or go back to Goldram when the war was over. So he asked.
Rek took the question with a slow breath, lifting his arms to stretch. A worried expression crossed his face.
“I’m not sure,” the Elf said. “I still haven’t met my brother, Vithos. I would like to speak to him about it when we have a chance. And of course there’s Reela. I would hate to leave her, though I do want to finish what we started in Greenedge.”
Cleve hoped Reela would come with him, though he wasn’t sure she would want to, especially now after they’d left her at the castle without a word. His stomach churned. The thought of her being angry with him was far worse than his own anger for Welson.
He liked the anger toward his king. It felt natural. What was strange was when he thought of forgiving Welson. During their conversation, the idea had come, but he’d rejected it.
Cleve planned to hold his grudge for the rest of his life. Who was Welson to claim that Dex killed his royal father? Cleve knew that Dex would never have done that. And even if he was willing, my mother never would’ve let him go through with it. Welson must’ve had the wrong man.
Now he wants me to forgive him? It was absurd. Only a king would expect someone to forgive him for murdering his parents, pure delusion. Would Welson forgive the man who killed his father? Not in five lifetimes.
Still, the anger might’ve been forced. Did he want to be angrier than he really was? He chose not to think about it.
Rek told Cleve that the Krepp encampment was along the eastern side of Kilmar, about a one hundred fifty-mile ride. On horseback, that wasn’t too far. At their comfortable pace, they probably could make it in four days.
Four days, Cleve reflected. Eight or nine days before I’m back. Could be more if there are complications. It seemed too long a time to leave without even letting Reela know. Then a dreadful thought came. She might not be there when I get back. Welson said he’s sending his army to Tenred, and it’s an eight-day walk just to get there.
There was a good chance Reela wouldn’t go with them, being a first-year student at the Academy. But Welson said she’s one of the strongest psychics. Cleve began to worry if she might be in more danger going to Tenred than if she’d come with him and Rek.
“Did you know Welson is sending troops to Tenred?” Cleve asked.
“I did.”
“Don’t you think that’ll be just as dangerous for Reela?”
“The first-year students won’t go,” Rek said. “Welson can’t leave the cities or the school without any able bodies to defend them.”
“Did he tell you this?”
“He said he’ll leave it up to Terren who stays and who goes. And I know Terren. Only the third-years will be required.”
Cleve had forgotten that Rek and his uncle were friends. He’d never seen them together. It was strange to reminisce back to that evening they’d talked about Rek, when Cleve found out his uncle had signed him up to live with three strangers, one being a psychic. He’d never been more terrified.
He told me that Reela wouldn’t be anything like Rek. But soon she’ll be just as strong. For the first time in months, Cleve felt scared of Reela. Can I really share a bed with her?
He shook his head. He knew the instant he saw her again, the silly fear would be gone.
A voice nagged him. If we do see each other again.
Rek informed him there was a group of scouts not far from the Krepp encampment. “Welson advised me to meet with them for information about the best place to shoot from. They move frequently, but they’re somewhere around here.” He pointed to a spot on the map about ten miles west of the encampment. “We’re leaving the bird with them as well. If the Krepps start to march, they’ll let the King know.”
“We haven’t been in Kyrro one day and we’re already leaving again,” Cleve complained, expecting Rek to share his annoyance.
“Be strong. We’ll return.”
Rek was right. Cleve wasn’t feeling himself. It was the confusion over how he should react to his king—the man whose orders Cleve must follow blindly, no matter what the ruler had done. It was weakening Cleve, slowly breaking down his walls.
“I just wish I could prove to Welson that it wasn’t my father who killed his.”
Rek fell silent, staring ahead as they rode. They’d reached the eastern hills that wrapped around Kyrro, cascading off the Fjallejon Mountains. As Cleve followed Rek through, the evening sun was too low to reach them, putting them in shadow.
Cleve’s mood dampened as he felt a chill. It was going to be a long four days if Rek wouldn’t even share his anger toward Welson.
Chapter 3:
ZETI
Zeti had never known true loneliness. She’d begun to realize this more each m
orning, for it was then that she had time to think. No one would visit her hut that day, or any day in the future. But she could change that if she chose a seshar. The thought of someone being there when she woke was almost worth everything she hated that came with it.
As each day wore on, she busied herself with her assigned task of tending to the needs of the two Dajriks, and she forgot all about wanting a seshar until night came and it was time to return alone to her hut.
The giant creatures that looked to be made of rock ate as much as ten Krepps. But getting the Dajriks’ weapons built proved to be far more difficult than feeding them. Doe wanted both of them to have a sword and shield, but the weapons needed to be proportional to the twenty-foot-tall creatures. Krepps had never crafted anything so difficult.
Zeti already had broken up several fights between the male Krepps in charge of shaping the metal. Each day they failed, their aggression worsened. When she reported this to Doe, he said he should’ve chosen female Krepps to do the job.
“Those Keenu picked to train the birds have already completed their task,” Doe added. “So I’ve sent a message to Tenred about our attack. They can join us when I send the rest of the army to finish the Humans in Kyrro.”
But the next day, Zeti heard that Doe had received such a terrible letter from their allies in Tenred that, in a fit of rage, he burned the Krepp who brought it to him. So when the massive Slugari summoned Zeti through a messenger, she decided to take her sword instead of her dagger, hoping Doe wouldn’t be insulted by the sight of it on her belt.
She was relieved when she found Keenu there as well. Zeti stumbled in on the middle of their conversation.
“It must be a lie,” Keenu insisted. “They just want us to protect them because they’re cowards.”
“What’s a lie?” Zeti asked. She’d become comfortable enough around Keenu to pose questions without worry he would scold her, even though the chief of scouts was still her superior.
Keenu looked to Doe.
“Tell her,” he said.
“Tenred sent back one of our pigeons with a message.” Keenu’s face twisted with anger. “They claim that our Krepps lost the battle in Kyrro.”
Strangely, Zeti couldn’t tell what she felt. This meant that her brother Zoke probably was still alive, but she’d wanted her fellow Krepps to win—no, she’d expected them to.
She buried her thoughts. It was pointless to speculate until she knew the truth.
“Why would they lie?” she asked.
“So we’ll send ten thousand Krepps to protect Tenred’s territory,” Keenu said. “The King fears that Kyrro will attack them and his army will be defeated. Cowards and liars, all of them!”
Doe growled. His claws began to glow. “Shut your mouth, Keenu!”
Keenu crouched, his eyes steady on Doe’s claws. Luckily, he cast no fireball, and the light faded.
“If they’re the cowards you say they are, then they would never risk lying to us,” he said.
Keenu and Zeti waited in silence, knowing that asking a question at this time could mean a burning.
“Soon after Haemon returns, we’ll send our entire army to Kyrro.”
So our other leader is still alive, Zeti thought. It means the Krepps he took to attack Kyrro must’ve fled rather than fight to the death. Respect for them will be gone when word reaches the rest of our army. It made Zeti eager to fight, to prove she was stronger than them. She would never retreat like a coward. She knew Keenu felt the same.
“I look forward to cutting off the heads of those that stand in our way,” Keenu said. When he sucked in drool, it became clear he was thinking about the taste of Slugari meat.
“Zeti,” Doe said. “Here’s my reply to Tenred. It tells them they can have one thousand Krepps as long as they agree to fight with us when our full army is ready. Give this to the pigeon handlers. Then get back to the Dajriks.”
As always, Zeti did what Doe told her.
Sleep was calling her by the time the day was over. As she approached her hut, she heard someone within. Expecting her father, she drew her sword.
But when she peeled back the cloth covering the hut’s opening, she let out a breath when she saw it was Suba.
The Krepp who’d been like a mother to her laughed nervously. “What kind of Krepps are you involved with that you enter your own hut with a weapon drawn?”
Zeti sheathed her sword and smiled. “You’re here so late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I have something important to discuss with you. Will you swear you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you?”
“I swear.”
Suba walked past Zeti and poked her head outside.
“No one’s around,” Zeti said. “Everyone’s asleep.”
Suba spoke with a low voice. “Not everyone.”
The seriousness in her tone made Zeti uneasy. “What’s going on?”
“Many of us are leaving the army, or tribe, or whatever this is that Doe and Haemon have created.”
“But that’s treason.”
Suba put her hand gently over Zeti’s mouth. “Keep your voice soft, young Krepp. Those words reaching the wrong ears could get me killed.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Zeti said.
“Come with us. About two thousand will be leaving with me. There are far too few wall guards to stop us.”
“Doe will send his fighters after you. It’s dangerous to try leaving.”
Suba had a sorrowful smile. “It sounds like you don’t want to come.”
Zeti shook her head. “I don’t, and I don’t want you to go.”
“I had a feeling, but I figured it was worth the risk to make sure.”
She grabbed Suba’s wrist. “Why are you leaving?”
“There are some Krepps old enough to have lived before Doe and Haemon came and all the tribes merged. They’ve convinced me and many others that life was better when we weren’t an army, when we were separate tribes of lower numbers. I’m sick of living here. Even if it means I never taste Slugari, I’d rather follow a Krepp than Doe and Haemon.”
Zeti couldn’t comprehend the feeling. She’d begun to respect Doe in ways she never thought possible. He was the hardest working and strongest creature she’d ever come across. He was her leader—everyone’s leader—and he deserved to be. He’s going to bring us to the Slugari we crave. Zeti was confident. How can Suba not care about that?
Suba unfolded a map of Ovira. “We’re going to be here, deep in Merejic.” She pointed to the northwestern edge of the continent. “They say there’s an abandoned Elven village there with buildings that are structurally superior to our huts, and there are plenty of animals to hunt.”
“I shouldn’t know where you’re going. Why are you telling me this?”
“In case you ever change your mind. Just don’t tell anyone we spoke. It’s best you pretend I never came to your hut.” Suba kissed Zeti on the forehead. “Goodbye. I must be going.”
“All of you are leaving tonight?”
“Yes, imminently.” Suba turned and parted the cloth shielding of the hut. She glanced back over her shoulder, waiting for Zeti, a pleading look in her yellow eyes.
“I can’t,” Zeti said.
Suba nodded. Then she was gone.
Zeti rested on her bed, distraught as she realized she wouldn’t be sleeping much that night.
Keenu was the only Krepp left that mattered to her. For the first time, she seriously considered asking him to be her seshar. She’d come to believe he was trying to help her when he’d offered to kill Paramar. She trusted him now. He was ten years her elder, but that wasn’t uncommon.
Her biggest issue was that his pointed face was shaped somewhat like Zoke’s. It was an uncomfortable thought, though she didn’t know why.
Perhaps because Zoke and I are more likely to fight against each other than be part of the same tribe again, and Keenu’s likeliness to brother to me only reminds me of this.
She felt the tears
coming when she thought of Grayol next. The image haunted her daily, her dead friend’s spiraling body slapping against the stone of the crumbling Tenred castle after the explosion.
At least she didn’t miss her father, Ruskir. Never had an argument felt so healthy, so relieving. She regretted nothing she’d said or done to him. She only wished it had happened sooner.
The next morning, everyone was talking about the “traitors” who’d abandoned the army during the night. Zeti had never seen so much spit in one day, though she wondered how many of the spiteful comments were exaggerated or even completely feigned. She had no idea Suba was so unhappy in the encampment. There had to be others.
In the afternoon, while Zeti was carrying two sacks of oats over to feed the Dajriks, Keenu approached her. He hollered at a nearby Krepp to help her.
“I don’t need it,” Zeti said.
Keenu smiled. “I can tell you don’t, but Doe wants to see us right now. I’m sure it’s about what happened last night.”
Hot fear filled Zeti’s chest. Would Doe ask her what she knew about those who’d left? If he found out she was lying…Zeti had a startling realization. I’m a traitor for not revealing their location, for not letting Doe know they planned to abandon us. I could die for this.
Keenu noticed her worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Did someone close to you leave?”
“I haven’t had a chance to check.” Luckily, Zeti had practiced lying to her father for many years. She knew she was good at it.
Then Zeti realized she wasn’t following Keenu toward Doe’s quarters. “Where are we going?”
“He wants us to meet him at the western wall.”
This, Zeti liked even less. The Slugari was so large, it was rare to find him moving about the encampment. He must have a strong reason to be at the wall.
At least Vithos isn’t here to tell if I’m lying. Still, her heart was racing.
There was an audience of Krepps huddled near the wall. Doe spoke in a hushed tone to a few who were ranked high in the army.
“What’s going on?” Zeti asked someone standing nearby.
