by Jordan Baker
"What do you mean?" Borrican asked.
"You are the only remaining heir to the throne of Kandara, and if we take back my kingdom, I will be the queen of Maramyr. What does that mean for us?"
"It means whatever we decide it means," Borrican said. "
"Yes, you are right," Ariana said, and she smiled at him. "I suppose I will have to name you my consort at some point."
"Only if I can name you my consort as well," Borrican quipped.
"I am your queen, Akandar," Ariana teased.
"Only in the dragon lands," Borrican shot back.
"I see," Ariana said. "You are bonded to me, regardless."
"Only when I'm a dragon." Borrican squinted at her, and the bond between them echoed with rebellion and obstinance.
"I wonder if that is true," Ariana said, giving him a mischievous look.
"I don't know," he admitted, then he felt her teasing him through the bond and he glared at her. "You wouldn't."
"I wouldn't," she said with a tired laugh. "No, I am not like my uncle, or this Calexis."
"I should hope not," Borrican said. "Otherwise, what would we be fighting for, except to replace one tyrant with another?"
"I would be a gentle tyrant," Ariana said, with a hint of a smile.
"Right," Borrican said, casting her a suspicious glance. "Perhaps we should save that sort of talk for the royal bedroom."
Ariana felt her cheeks go red, and even the clear crystals that covered part of her face seemed to tint, and she turned away so Borrican would not notice, but it was obvious from the grin that spread across his face that he had.
"You're right," Ariana said. "We should focus on the task before us, or all of this other talk will be for nothing."
"All right," Borrican said with a sigh. "Still, I suppose it is nice to have some things to look forward to."
"Yes, there is that," Ariana agreed, and she looked back at the line of soldiers and horses behind her, and recognized that she was now somewhere near the place where she had nearly been killed, by corrupted men, loyal to her uncle. She remembered the winter that she and Aaron had survived, alone in the forest, unaware of who they were to each other, yet somehow knowing there was something between them, so close yet remaining respectfully apart in other ways.
Aaron had saved her then, more than once, and Ariana felt a pang of guilt when she thought about how the girl goddess, Ehlena had come to her, asking Ariana to help him, and she had refused. She was angry then, and overwhelmed with so many things that had happened to her in the dragon lands, but she knew that she was making excuses for herself, and it still felt like she had abandoned Aaron, when she knew that he would do whatever he could to help her if she were the one who was in trouble. At Elvanar, Ehlena had told her about what Aaron faced, and how he had gone to Calexis to gain some time in the hope of slowing the shadow, that the people of Maramyr might be saved, and though she understood why he would do such a thing, she could not help but be angry at him for so fatefully putting himself in such a dangerous position. Ariana turned and looked forward, down the wide road that cut a path through the trees toward the kingdom that was her duty to protect, including its lands and all of its people and she was more determined than ever, that she would take back the crown that had been stolen from her.
Remembering the betrayal of her uncle and thinking about the horrors that he had unleashed upon the world, Ariana resolved that she would do whatever she could to stop Calexis and the god that held the magic of the shadow, a terrible power that had destroyed so much and the lives of so many. And she hoped that somehow, she would be able to help Aaron and let him know that, even though they were raised apart, she still felt true kinship with him, and the simple time they spent together in the mountain snows, though further distant in the past had been almost like regaining some part of the life that was taken from her so long ago. It was one of the things in her life that she considered a true gift. Somehow, Ariana wanted him to know that, no matter what might happen at Maramyr.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Amid the flowing desert sands, steel clashed against stone as Kasha fought in the circle with the one who spoke for her people, the warrior who held the name of Ansari. He had shifted to one of his preferred forms, which was like a great moving statue with armor made of rock. It was slow and cumbersome, and almost impervious to attack, but Kasha was relentless. With blinding speed, she continued chipping away at him, deftly dodging his powerful attacks and nicking another piece of stone from him with each pass.
"You will eventually become weary, Kasha," he said, as she leapt backward, out of his reach. "I am the rock beneath the sand, unyielding and eternal. You would do well to concede, for I have defeated you before we even began this dance."
"I am the wind, the sun and the rain," she told him. "Your stone will turn to sand, and you will fall to me."
"One," he said, holding up a stony finger. "That is all it will take for me to finish you. One blow and the weight of the mountain will fall upon you. It is a truth."
"It is a truth that has not come to pass," Kasha said and she leapt at him again, cutting him in countless places with a blinding attack, each cut random and unplanned, except for one among the many, a place on his chest where the stone was not so hard and gave way to her blade a little more with every slash.
"Are they still at it?" Jax asked as he approached the circle, where Tash and Ashan watched patiently, along with the other Ansari.
"Where did you go?" Tash asked, noticing that his hair was sticking up in an odd way.
"I was tired so I had a little sleep," he said, letting out an enormous yawn.
"You were napping?" Tash was shocked. "Kasha is fighting Ansari."
"Yes, I can see that," Jax replied. "It appears they are still at the same impasse as they were before."
"You do not watch, so you do not see," Ashan said. "As in most things, there is a pattern, even when the pattern changes."
"That makes no sense," Jax said. "If it changes, by definition, it can't be a pattern."
"There are many patterns," Ashan replied.
"You have been watching all this time, Tash," Jax said to the young girl at the old man's side. "What do you see?"
"Kasha hits him a bunch of times with her sword, he swings but he is too slow and she hits him again, but he is made of stone, so her sword barely cuts him," Tash said.
"Have you counted the cuts she had made?" Ashan asked her.
"Counted?" Tash frowned, then she held up her fingers. "I know lots of numbers but I don't know that many yet."
"Then how many places has her sword touched?" Ashan asked, and Tash stared at the stone Ansari, her vision moving closer the way she had learned, as though she were standing right up close to him.
"That's a lot of places," Tash said. "It will take me a while to count all the cuts."
As Tash stared at the Ansari, she saw Kasha's sword dart in and out, slashing and scraping his stone body, and she noticed a faint, jagged line that ran across his chest, and she saw Kasha's blade touch it, making it slightly deeper.
"I see it now," she said.
"What do you see?" Jax asked as he rubbed his face and let out a yawn. "I can't see anything with all the sand in my eyes."
Ashan muttered something to himself and Jax turned toward him, exasperated.
"What?" he asked. "I thought you Ansari were all about truth, and there's something you're too scared to say to me?"
"I am hardly afraid of you, Jax," Ashan told him. "I merely wished to spare you from upset at my words."
"It's all right," Jax said. "Words don't hurt me."
"I said that you are an infant," Ashan said, and Jax chuckled.
"Compared to you, old man, everyone is an infant," Jax said with a smile that was more of a smirk.
"That is true," Ashan replied, looking over at him with a smile of his own.
Jax met his gaze, then he twitched and his eyes turned toward the fight, and Ashan saw something that he already kn
ew, though the thief was possibly the most inscrutable person he had ever encountered. He watched as Jax followed every stroke of Kasha's blade, the almost imperceptible movements of his eyes as she cut stone again and again, and just as quickly as he had taken interest in the fight, he turned away again.
"Well, this fight is almost done, and we must leave soon," he said. "Now Tash, I want you to promise me that you won't follow me and Kasha. It is too dangerous for a little Ansari, so you must stay here with Ashan."
"I won't make promises to someone who says things that aren't true," Tash said. "And how do you know the fight is almost done?"
"It will take three more attacks, maybe four if she is being lazy," he said, not bothering to look as Kasha moved in on the Ansari leader and cut him again, her strikes fast and relentless, her tight, muscled body glistening with sweat in the hot desert air.
Ashan stared at Jax, then he looked more closely at the line that Kasha had drawn with her sword across her opponent's chest. It was clear that she had found a weakness, but there was no sign that she was anywhere near to victory. Jax and Tash continued arguing and Ashan let their voices fade on the wind as he focused more closely on the line in the stone armor as Kasha ducked under the arm of the Ansari and she cut him again. She spun out of the way as he shoved an elbow of solid rock toward her, and stepped backward several paces.
"If you concede, I will let you live," Kasha said. "I do not wish to harm you."
The Ansari began to laugh.
"I can see your strength failing," he said. "You cannot harm me."
"Concede," Kasha said. "There is no shame in it."
"You think me a fool?" he asked, incredulous that she would think she had any chance of defeating him.
"Yes, I do," she replied. "You have lost sight of your truth, and you may know Ansari, but you are Ansari no longer."
"You have lost your way, and you dare to question Ansari?" He clenched his stone fists. "I rescind my offer that you may concede to me. This fight will be to the end, and your death was unnecessary but it is entirely of your choosing."
"What?" Tash gasped. "He is going to kill Kasha?"
"No, it's the other way," Jax said. "Kasha doesn't want to kill him, but he really is leaving her no choice."
"How do you know this?" Ashan asked.
"The same way I know she is about to stab him with her sword," Jax said as Kasha dove overtop the Ansari's next swing and drove the point of her sword into the line on his chest.
The sound of it echoed sharply around the circle, as a fissure appeared in the Ansari's chest. His stone eyes went wide, and he swiped at Kasha with his massive arms as she rolled away, out of his reach. The Ansari fell to his knees as the crack widened and new cracks began to form, running down his body and across his face.
"Now, if you don't promise to stay here, I will make Ashan promise to make you," Jax said to Tash as the Ansari crumbled to a thousand pieces and fell to dust upon the ground inside the fighting circle.
Ashan was confounded for the third time in his long life, that he had not seen the truth of things and he now understood that there was much about the petulant thief that he could not see, and he wondered how such a man could have come to be, with sight as true as Ansari yet a walking contradiction, for the things he said and did.
"Kasha won," Tash said, almost surprised. "She beat Ansari."
"She is Ansari," Ashan said. "The name she had is no longer, for she is become the voice of our people."
"What?" Jax squinted at the old man, then he turned when he heard Kasha's voice.
"I am Ansari," she said to the assembled warriors. "We are truth."
"She isn't Kasha anymore?" Tash asked.
"She is Ansari now," Ashan said. "That is our way."
"It's your way," Jax said. "I'll call her whatever I want."
Kasha looked out among the warriors and she pointed to a number of them with her sword.
"We have been called to fight," she said as her eyes sought out warriors from the crowd. "We will answer the call."
"Why can't I call her Kasha?" Tash asked.
"That is not her truth," Ashan said. "She is Ansari."
"Well you can call her great leader, or Ansari, or the queen of the desert, if you wish, but I'll decide what I want to call her," Jax said, then he looked over at Kasha, who was now walking to where he, Tash and Ashan stood. "If you are finished waving your sword around, we really must leave."
"We leave at once, upon the wind," she said, and every warrior she had selected stepped forward and shifted into a winged creature of varying sort, then leapt into the air and began to fly westward. Kasha walked over to where Ashan, Tash and Jax stood.
"If you don't mind," Jax said. "Would fly me to Maramyr? I have something I must do. It's really important. I brought Tash back to you, didn't I?"
Kasha sighed.
"Jax," she said, as she shifted into a great lion with wings. "You are truly insufferable, but I will fly you to the battle."
"I may be difficult, but I am not insufferable," he said as he climbed up onto her back. "Now please tell Tash she has to stay here."
"Tash, stay," Kasha said, then she took several bounding leaps across the fighting circle, and spread her wings and flew off after the others.
"Why must I stay?" Tash pouted.
"Where they travel it is very dangerous," Ashan said. "I would not send you to fight the shadow, Tash."
"They're going to help Aaron," Tash said. "I know that's what they are doing, and I am going to help too."
Tash shifted to her kestrel form and took off after the rest of the Ansari, leaving Ashan behind, shaking his head. It was ever the way with the young, he thought, as he walked into the fighting circle and sat down at its center and closed his eyes, remembering that he was young once, very long ago. Ashan let his senses open and he felt the ever moving sands of the world, like eternal waves upon the sea, as he listened and watched events unfold as forces moved toward each other, determined to decide what destinies would be.
*****
The ships continued up the river, moving almost as fast as they would have where they under sail in a brisk wind upon the open sea, and it was all the sailors could do to keep an even keel in the strange currents that swirled around them as the river itself flowed upstream. The Aghlar and the pirates were relieved that the powerful winds that had blown for days finally seemed to be subsiding, for they had caused the ships to drift dangerously and bump against one another in the tight channel. Now they only had to maintain their course, pushed by water, with only a light breeze in the air, though the skies ahead to the north did not look promising, and with night beginning to fall, many were concerned about running aground upon the banks of the river. Atop the mast of her ship, Carly felt the winds shift and become calm and favorable, and it was not long before she sensed a familiar power in the air. Keeping an eye trained on the river ahead, she leapt over to the mast of the lead Aghlar ship, then she dropped down to the deck, where Toren stood with his big arms folded and a frown on his face.
"You seem out of sorts, Toren," she said.
"It is this strange way of sailing without the wind," he said. "I find it disturbing."
"Do you not know of the currents of the sea?" Carly asked him. "They can move a ship, even in a dead calm when there is no breeze to be found, and they can shorten a voyage, if you know how to use them."
"We have always placed our faith in the winds, in the Lady goddess, that her favor would bring good fortune upon the waves," Toren told her.
"Not always," Carly said. "Perhaps it has been so long that your people have forgotten your knowledge of the waters themselves."
"The sea has long been treacherous," Toren said. "There are stories from long ago, of calmer waves and more peaceful times, when the goddess Mara used her power to protect those who traveled upon her realm."
"They were different times," Cary told him. "And the waters are often as they are, with or without such influence, even th
at of the Lady, who has long been away from the world."
"Aye," Toren said with a nod. "The winds have also been unpredictable, but 'tis the sea that has claimed many an Aghlar, and no doubt those pirates would say the same."
Carly sighed.
"We left the world to the people and creatures that live within it," she said. "The sea has no will of its own, nor does the wind, no more than the dirt chooses to lay upon the ground."
"But why did you leave?" Toren asked. "Why did the gods leave? Though the Lady no longer walked among us, we could always feel her power in her temple, but the goddess who was once closest to the people of this world, once the patron of the people of the sea, she was lost to us completely."
"I need not explain my choices," Carly said. "But I will say that it was better that I let go of my power and let the world be."
"And the lives that were lost upon the waters? The whirling maelstroms that appeared without warning and would destroy entire ships, dragging them down to the bottom? The giant waves, powerful enough to destroy an entire harbor of ships, and even the land beyond? These things were better?"
"As terrible as such things were, they are lesser compared with what might have been, had I not let go of the sea," Carly told him. "If you do not doubt my power, then you will accept the truth of this."
Toren looked over at her, curious about what could have driven a goddess to be more dangerous than the seeming madness of the ocean itself, but he realized that it was not his place to demand answers to such questions. For whatever reason, in whatever form, and by whatever name she had chosen, the goddess of the sea had now returned, and her purpose was to help Ehlena, the Lady goddess, who was dear to him and his people, for many reasons. The wind swirled around the deck of the ship, almost a whirlwind, and Toren blinked when the air began to take on form and Ehlena appeared in the air before them.
The Aghlar king leapt forward as she fell and he caught her in his arms before she hit the deck of the ship, and when he looked down upon her face, for a brief moment he saw the sickness that Carly had told him about. It was as though Ehlena was somehow aged, and he could see that her pale skin was stained dark beneath its surface. The vision lasted for only a moment, then he felt the sensation of power flowing through her, and her features returned to that of the vibrant and youthful young girl he had seen when last she had visited Aghlar.
