The Quest for the Heart Orb (The Orbs of Rathira)

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “Ten at once?” Karma asked, frowning. “That seems excessive.”

  “Yes, I thought so too,” Zakiel replied.

  “Thank you, Sir Marl, for protecting Hara Ren,” Garundel said. All of the women turned in surprise to see Marl standing behind Ren and the four diplos, in an impressively large ring of impressively dead gargoyles. It looked as though Marl had a bit of a temper when it came to protecting the woman he loved.

  “It was my honor, Sir Garundel,” Marl replied, though he only had eyes for Ren, who dropped the reins she was still holding and hurried toward him. The others turned back around to give the couple some semblance of privacy.

  Jenz came forward and spoke quietly to Garundel. Tomas took Tiari’s sword and wiped it clean for her, while Bredon continued to stare back and forth between Kapia, and the dead gargoyles in front of her, his expression caught somewhere between horror and pride. Kapia noticed that he was still pale, though not as much as he’d been a minute earlier.

  “Casualties?” Zakiel asked when Jenz left.

  “We lost three Hunters and one servant,” Garundel said. “All from poison bites or scratches.”

  “Damn,” Zakiel swore. He glanced at the sky. “This storm is going to hit soon, but we certainly can’t camp here now. Let’s get as far as we can from this place in a quarter hour, then set up camp as quickly as we can. We’ll honor our fallen brothers later.”

  “Yes, Highness,” Garundel said with a quick bow. He stepped away and spoke quickly with Tomas and Bredon, then they split up, each going in a different direction.

  “None of you were scratched or otherwise injured?” Zakiel asked Karma.

  “No, we’re all fine,” Karma said, grimacing at the dead demons that littered the ground. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Yes,” Zakiel said, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. Just as he started to turn away they all heard a harsh gasp of indrawn breath, followed by a shout of horror.

  ***

  “Thank you, Marl, for keeping me safe yet again,” Ren said.

  “It is my honor and privilege to guard you, beloved Ren,” Marl said, reaching up to cup her cheek in the palm of his hand.

  “It’s kind of you to say so, but I’ve no doubt your skills could have been better used elsewhere,” Ren said.

  “You forget how important you are to Rathira,” Marl said, smiling down at her. “There is no better use for my skills than using them to prevent harm to you.”

  “I appreciate that, Marl,” she said. “But I need to learn to defend myself like the other women do, so no one has to guard me.”

  “If it’s your wish to learn the use of a weapon, it would be my honor to teach you. Or to find another to teach you, if you prefer.”

  “If I must learn, I would learn from you.”

  “I will teach you, but only if it’s truly your desire to learn.”

  “It is,” Ren said, placing her hand over the one he still held to her cheek. “This is the Orb Quest, and everyone fights. Everyone but me.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Marl said. “Everyone has duties to perform, and they are all important, but neither the drovers nor the servants fight.”

  “I know, but I still feel like I’m not doing my share.”

  “You are an Orb Maiden,” Marl said. “As such, you have an enormous responsibility, and you will face more than your share of danger soon enough. There’s no need to take on more.”

  “Perhaps,” Ren said uncertainly. Then she smiled up at him. “Thank you, again, for keeping me safe.”

  Marl had just opened his mouth to speak when his entire body suddenly jerked, and burning pain exploded in his leg. He looked down to see a not quite dead gargoyle slump to the ground after expending the last of its strength to swipe at him with its black claws.

  Ren followed his gaze down to the three shallow wounds on the side of his leg, just below the knee. Then she glanced up into Marl’s eyes, remembering what Prince Zakiel had said earlier. The gargoyles’ bite and claws were poison. Marl slumped to his knees, his face already ashy gray.

  Everything inside of her screamed in denial. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands going to his shoulders in a useless effort to support his weight. A thought exploded in her mind. It was crazy. Absurd. Preposterous. It was all she had.

  “Water,” she called out sharply as she struggled to keep Marl from falling over, barely noticing that others were already surrounding them. Someone killed the dying gargoyle and dragged it away while large hands took hold of Marl’s shoulders and lowered him gently to the ground.

  She crawled quickly to his side, right next to the wounded leg, accepting the water bag that was shoved into her shaking hands. Relying on instinct alone, knowing she had very little time, she yanked the glove off of her right hand and dropped it, then opened the water bag and poured the water over the back of her hand and wrist. Pale flesh immediately transformed into blue-green scales, but it was the spines on the back of her wrist that she wanted, so she poured the rest of the water there. It took precious seconds for the spines to develop, but already Marl’s breathing was fast and shallow. She heard someone saying “No no no no,” over and over again and she wanted to tell them to stop, but couldn’t seem to form the words.

  The moment the slender spines that ran along the back of her wrist were completely formed, she unceremoniously stabbed them into Marl’s leg, right where the gargoyle had scratched him. She felt the spines go deep into the heavy muscle of his calf and her stomach lurched, but she gritted her teeth and held them in place, realizing only then that the string of no’s was coming from her. Seconds passed, the only sound now the pounding of her own heart as she waited.

  She looked up at Marl, surprised to find his gaze fixed on her. She wanted to smile at him to reassure him, but she was too scared. She glanced down as some heretofore silent inner voice told her it was time to withdraw the spines. She did it slowly, fighting the urge to yank them out which, somehow, she knew would cause Marl unnecessary pain.

  When the spines were free of Marl’s leg, Kapia knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did it, Ren,” she said, reaching over with a dry cloth to cleanse the blood from the spines. “You saved him. I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “I didn’t know it either,” she whispered, turning to look at Kapia’s tear streaked face. “Did it really work?”

  “Yes, it really worked,” Kapia said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Why don’t you move up there a bit and talk with Marl, and I’ll get this wound cleaned and covered, all right?” Ren nodded and moved so that she could look down at Marl’s face, which was still too pale, but no longer gray.

  “Thank you,” he said weakly. He tried to sit up, but Zakiel knelt at his other side and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

  “Let Kapia clean the wound first, Marl,” he said. Marl nodded, but didn’t take his eyes from Ren.

  “What did you do?” Zakiel asked her.

  “I’m not altogether sure. I just knew, all of a sudden, that I could save him, and what I had to do.”

  “Can you heal other kinds of poison or venom that way?” Zakiel asked.

  Ren started to say no, then hesitated, searching her mind to see if there was another answer there somewhere. When she found one she was surprised. “Yes,” she said. “And not just poisons, but infections too. And some diseases.” She looked at the prince with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I could do any of this before. I should have saved those other men.”

  “No, Hara Ren,” Zakiel said, shaking his head firmly. “Even if you’d known, gargoyle poison acts so quickly that you would not have had time to get to them. If you hadn’t been standing beside Marl, we would have lost him, too.”

  Ren nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to stop more tears from falling. There were too many people standing around watching, and though she knew they accepted her, she still preferred not to display a scaly face to everyone if she
could help it. A thought slipped into her mind and she smiled, forgetting all about tears, scales, and watching eyes.

  “What is it?” Marl asked, wanting to know what had put such a bright and beautiful smile on her face.

  “I’ve always thought of my Mareon blood as a curse,” she said. “But Brai Adaya said that one day I’d realize that it was my greatest blessing. I never believed her, but now that I’ve been able to save you because of it, I cannot help but agree. I will never think of my Mareon blood as a curse again.”

  “I’m glad, Ren,” Marl said. “You are exactly as you are meant to be, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

  Ren blushed and dropped her eyes. Not knowing where else to look while waiting for her face to cool, she watched Kapia apply salve to the scratches on Marl’s leg, then wrap it in a length of cloth.

  “This is just to keep the scratches clean and allow the salve time to be absorbed,” Kapia said, tying a knot to hold the makeshift bandage in place. “Once we make camp you can remove it.”

  “Thank you, Highness,” Marl said. Kapia smiled and stood up while Caral gathered her small collection of healing supplies and returned them to a basket.

  “How are you feeling, Marl?” Zakiel asked him. “Do you think you can ride for a short time?”

  “Yes, I’m sure I can,” Marl said, flexing his leg experimentally. “I feel a bit weary, probably from the poison, but the wound itself is no more than a few scratches.”

  “Good,” Zakiel said. “Let’s get out of here before the snow flies and we’re stuck camping among these demons.”

  Chapter Nine

  They barely managed a mile before Zakiel spotted a likely camp site and called a halt. He’d grown up in the desert, but he’d led war parties into colder and more dangerous regions than this, and knew the dangers they faced if they were caught unprepared in the face of a blizzard. Everyone, servant, drover and Hunter, helped. The tents were pitched in record time, close together amidst a stand of tall, sturdy trees out of the worst of the wind. A rope corral was strung for the diplos in another stand of trees that provided them with the most shelter possible, and the drovers broke out thick woolen blankets to cover them with. They were thankful for the plentiful wood that made it easier to keep fires going in all the tents for both warmth and cooking. Zakiel suggested that Kapia and Ren sleep in the front section of their large tent with Lashi and Caral in order to conserve heat, and although both women agreed it was a good idea, Ren was worried about Marl. It was decided that he would share the fire with Timon in the connecting tent, who would summon Ren immediately if she was needed.

  Everyone made it through the night without freezing, but when morning finally arrived it was clear that the danger had not yet passed. The snow filled wind was still blowing, and the sky remained dark. Zakiel decided not to strike camp, ignoring the urge to hurry that was growing inside of him. No one else objected. The prospect of an entire day with nothing to do but rest and stay warm was not unpleasant or unwelcome to anyone.

  Around mid-morning Bredon left his tent and made his way through the blowing snow toward the royal tent. Timon invited him in without waiting for permission from Zakiel because of the storm, which Bredon was grateful for. A few minutes later, after greeting Zakiel and Karma, declining food and accepting tea, he visibly braced himself.

  “Marene again?” Zakiel asked.

  “Yes,” Bredon said. “I’m afraid so.”

  “From your demeanor it’s not good news,” Zakiel said.

  “No, it’s not,” Bredon said. “She did say that she’s sorry about the gargoyles though, and that we shouldn’t have any more trouble from them.”

  “That’s good to know,” Zakiel said. “So what’s the bad news?”

  “Wait,” Karma said. “I’d like to summon Nikura, and if you don’t mind, Bredon, Kapia as well.”

  “Not at all,” Bredon said, keeping his eyes on the cup sitting on the mat in front of him.

  “Timon, will you ask Kapia to join us please?” Zakiel asked, while Karma sent out a silent call to Nikura. Both came in from the neighboring tent almost immediately, taking places in the circle after Timon hastily added a couple of cushions for them. Karma noted that Kapia’s greeting to Bredon was quieter than usual, reminding her that she still needed to have a talk with her younger sister.

  “Go ahead, Bredon,” Zakiel said when everyone was settled and Timon had served tea to Kapia before going to the next tent.

  “Marene has figured out how to do more than listen in on Skiatos,” he began. “She can now see the Djinn.”

  “How is such a thing possible?” Zakiel asked, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bredon. I know you don’t have answers to my questions.”

  “Actually, since I was alone during this particular conversation, I took the time to ask a few questions, and since Marene loves to talk about herself, she had no problem giving me answers,” Bredon said. “Apparently she does much the same thing that the Djinn do to us. Even though the tear they created is enclosed within the pyramid, preventing them from crossing through physically, its existence allows them to reach through with their magic to a certain degree. That’s how they make cin sahib, control their demons, things like that.”

  “I’ve often wondered about that,” Zakiel said. “It’s nice to have an answer. So, what did she learn?”

  “King ShaiTyan of the Fire Djinn has managed to convince one of the other Djinn kings to create a new scepter. Two more remain.”

  “Damn,” Zakiel breathed. Nikura sat up straight, his large eyes fixed intently on Bredon. “As bad as this news is, Bredon, I have to wonder why they haven’t done it before,” Zakiel said. “It seems logical to me.”

  “Yes, I was curious about that too,” Bredon said. “So long as Zatroa was hidden and of no use to anyone, they were content to wait until the pyramid was recalled and focus on other plans. Time has little meaning to them, and it was more agreeable than the risk of creating a new scepter.”

  “Risk?” Zakiel asked.

  “As I told you before, the four different types of Djinn despise each other, and the creation of a new scepter requires more than just cooperation from all of them. Each of the four kings will have to donate a part of their living bodies, which they’ve imbued with their power. All of their power. This leaves them weak and vulnerable for decades, except for whichever one of them they elect to wield it, and be high king over them all. He ends up with their power as well as his own in the form of the scepter. With that much power at his disposal, he could easily destroy all of the other kings, or even all of the Djinn save his own if he chose to.

  “A lot of trust is required, or a lot of desperation. There’s none of the first, but, unfortunately, there’s a lot of the second. Zatroa contains the combined power of four Djinn kings, and ShaiTyan is doing his best to convince them that Marene plans to turn that power against Skiatos. He’s succeeded with one, and Marene believes that the other two will soon follow.”

  “Of course they will,” Zakiel said. “What will they do with this new scepter?”

  “If he’s successful and a new scepter is created, they can use it to make a new tear using the existing tear as a guide. That means they won’t need the Ti-Ank, and they won’t need control of the pyramid or the tear. All they need to do is wait for us to recall the pyramid.”

  “How long will it take them to make a new scepter?” Zakiel asked.

  “Uncertain,” Bredon said. “Apparently the entire process is buried in ritual, but whether it’s all necessary or not is anyone’s guess. Marene says it could be as long as a month, or as quickly as just a few days.”

  “But they can’t actually do anything with it until the pyramid returns to Rathira, is that right?” Zakiel asked.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Bredon said. “Unless they get really lucky and randomly find us a second time.”

  “I’ve no idea what the odds would be of that happening, but since we can’t do anything about
it, we can’t spend time worrying about it,” Zakiel said.

  “Agreed,” Bredon said.

  “I wonder if Marene can use Zatroa to close the tear in the pyramid,” Zakiel said.

  “Yes, she can,” Bredon replied. “I asked her this morning and she said that since Zatroa made the tear, Zatroa can unmake it, but it requires a level of control she doesn’t yet have. She’s working on it.”

  “Is she stalling for some reason, Bredon?”

  “I almost wish she was, but no, she’s not,” Bredon said. “Each day she has to work with Zatroa, the stronger she becomes.”

  “I wonder how much time we’ll have before the other two kings give in and agree to the creation of a new scepter,” Karma said.

  “Marene estimates a week, maybe two,” Bredon said. “Whoever holds out longest gains the most respect. At the same time, there’s the risk of holding out for too long.”

  “It seems that all we can do right now is get to Ka-Teru as quickly as we can,” Zakiel said.

  “Marene promised to make an extra effort to keep our path clear of demons,” Bredon said.

  “Once we’re finished with the Djinn, we’ll need to find a way to prevent Marene from using her newfound powers to make slaves of us all,” Kapia said, speaking for the first time.

  Everyone looked at her, but no one said anything. She was right.

  Chapter Ten

  It took another day and night for the storm to move on. By that time everyone was fully rested and more than ready to strike camp and continue their journey. Karma found herself alone with Kapia just a few minutes after they set off, but Kapia politely declined the invitation to talk. She was either not ready to share, or didn’t feel like talking. Karma didn’t take it personally, and she didn’t press. She didn’t stop worrying, either.

  With the cloud cover gone the temperatures plummeted even more, which worried Zakiel. They were nearing the high point of yet another mountain by mid-afternoon, so Zakiel picked up the pace, determined to get as far down the other side as possible before dark. The lower their elevation, the higher the temperature would be. Just a few degrees could make the difference between life and death for some, or all, of them. By the end of the day everyone was tired, but the moisture falling from the clouds was in the form of rain and sleet instead of snow. Zakiel called a halt just before sunset, and allowed himself to relax just a little.