Leaves of Flame

by Joshua Palmatier

  Siobhaen’s shoulders slumped, but the determination in her face did not fade.

  “Should we follow them?” Eraeth asked tersely. His hand flexed on the handle of his cattan.

  Aeren looked down at Colin.

  “No,” Colin rasped, allowing Aeren to lay him onto his back again. “Let them go.”

  “But the knife—” Eraeth began.

  “I can get it back!” Colin choked on blood at the force behind the words, at the anger that seethed in his chest. In a quieter voice,he added,“Lotaern won’t hold the knife for long. He knows this. I can take it whenever I wish.”

  “Not if you don’t recover,” Aeren said harshly. He motioned toward the guardsman, who resheathed his blade and grabbed the pack again. He drew out clothing, Aeren picking through it, stuffing a shirt to Colin’s side and pressing hard.

  Colin moaned, as Eraeth finally lowered his cattan. The caitan glanced toward Siobhaen. “How long can you hold the fire?”

  She grimaced.“Not long enough.Not if the sukrael don’t leave.”

  “Tighten the circle,” Colin said through clenched teeth. Aeren had begun tying the shirt to his chest with strips of torn cloth. “Bring it closer to the Well. It will be easier to manage.”

  Siobhaen nodded, closed her eyes in concentration. Colin felt a surge of power through the earth, but the sensation was distant. The adrenaline over the loss of the knife was already fading. He could feel his arms beginning to tingle, the weakness pressing in on him from all sides. The lightheadedness had returned.

  “And then what?” Eraeth asked, frustration tainting his voice.

  “And then,” Colin said, darkness closing in fast now, weighing him down, drawing him into its vastness so fast he couldn’t finish.

  But he heard Aeren say from far away, “Then we wait.”

  “WILL HE SURVIVE?”

  Aeren looked up at Siobhaen from where he sat feeding wood into the fire. Eraeth and Hiroun, his only remaining House guard, had gone in search of game outside, through the cavern’s tunnel.They’d left that morning, after waking to discover that the Wraith’s body had vanished. They’d left it where it had fallen so that Shaeveran could look at it when he woke, burning the two Rhyssal House Phalanx who had died the day before instead.

  Now, Aeren wished they had tried to take care of the Wraith as well.

  Because of that, and because of the betrayal of Vaeren and the other Flame members, Eraeth had not wanted to leave Aeren alone with Siobhaen. But Aeren had insisted. They needed food. Boreaus had taken nearly all of it with his pack, along with most of the torches and a few other supplies.They didn’t need torches now,not with the pulsing blue light of the Well illuminating the entire cavern of ice, but they would once they attempted to return through Gaurraenan’s halls.

  He stared at Siobhaen as she stood over Shaeveran, a frown touching her face. A thin layer of anger seeped through his voice as he answered her.

  “I’ve seen him survive much more serious wounds.”

  She turned toward him. “Then why hasn’t he woken?”

  “I never said he would recover quickly. It took days for him to recover at the Escarpment. Most would have died, even with immediate attention from the healers.This one is not as serious, but it should still have been fatal.”

  “But there must be something more we can do. Have him drink from the sarenavriell. Something.”

  “The sarenavriell is what keeps him alive, but it also taints him. It’s what is causing the darkness beneath his skin. Having him drink might help, but it would also hurt him. He has tried to break free of it.” Aeren paused, brow furrowing. “I have seen him grow younger before, and that has helped heal his wounds, but only because the young heal faster, their bodies more resilient. His wounds do not vanish as he grows younger. And changing his age would require effort and energy I don’t think he can spare at the moment.”

  Siobhaen didn’t answer, the lines etched into her forehead—lines that had been a permanent fi xture since the attack by the Wraith and the Shadows—deepening. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her shoulders stiff. The stance of a member of the Phalanx: mostly relaxed, although still mildly defensive.

  Aeren waited, placing another branch onto the flames before him.

  Finally, she asked, “Why does he do it? Why did he risk himself to save us? He must have known we intended to take the knife at some point.”

  “He’s known since you left the Sanctuary in Caercaern.”

  “Then why?”

  Aeren considered the pale form before him, thought of the darkness that he’d seen swirling beneath his skin when he’d redressed the wound. A shocking amount of darkness. “Because he is a good person.”

  When Siobhaen merely scowled in disbelief, he asked, “Why did you stay?”

  “To hold Aielan’s Light steady.”

  “To protect us. You didn’t need to do that. You could have let the Light go, joined Vaeren and the others as they fled.”

  “And left you to the sukrael?”

  Aeren raised an eyebrow. “Vaeren left us.”

  Siobhaen stiffened, her eyes blazing. “I am not Vaeren.” Under her breath,she said,“He should have left the staff at least.”

  “He only cared about the knife, about returning it to the Chosen.”

  “It was what we were sent to do.”

  “And yet you stayed.”

  “Because we weren’t told to sacrifice Shaeveran . . . or you . . . in the process!”

  Aeren nodded. In a casual voice, he asked, “What does Lotaern intend to do with it?”

  Siobhaen spun toward him. “I stayed, but that does not mean I intend to betray the Order. The Chosen is trying to protect the Alvritshai. He’s trying to save us.”

  “From what?”

  “From the Wraiths! From the sukrael!”

  “But we are already protected from them. We have the Winter Tree. Lotaern doesn’t need the knife for protection. He wants it for some other purpose.”

  Siobhaen’s eyes grew troubled. She bit her lower lip, gaze drifting to one side, thinking.

  Aeren would have pressed her further, but Shaeveran moaned.

  Both of them turned instantly, Aeren rising from his place at the fire and stepping to Colin’s side. Colin opened his eyes, blinked at the strange light, then caught Aeren’s gaze.

  “What happened?” Colin’s attention flicked to Siobhaen as she knelt on his other side, then back. “I don’t sense Aielan’s Light. Where are the Shadows? Where’s the Wraith? Where are the others?”

  “Vaeren, Petraen, and Boreaus left with the knife, your staff,and most of the packs two days ago.The sukrael stayed a little longer, but fled when Aielan’s Light did not fail. We think they went after Vaeren. Siobhaen released the Light a short time after that and collapsed.”

  Colin rose onto his elbows. “Where is Eraeth and the other guardsman?”

  “Hiroun and Eraeth burned the others yesterday and are now hunting on the tundra.”

  Colin reached for Aeren, gripped his shoulder, his eyes wide. “You burned the Wraith?”

  “No. We left the Wraith alone. No one wanted to touch him.” He hesitated, then added reluctantly. “Apparently he wasn’t dead. The body vanished while we rested. None of those on watch saw anything, it was simply gone.”

  Colin slumped, his hand falling from Aeren’s shoulder. Conflicting emotions raced across his face—hatred, shock, grief—finally settling on resigned anger. “He should have died. The wound was fatal. The knife doesn’t work.”

  Siobhaen jerked in surprise. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

  Colin laughed bitterly.“It didn’t kill theWraith.It should have, but it didn’t. Vaeren betrayed us for nothing.”

  “But it did work against the sukrael,” Aeren said. “The pieces of the one you sliced apart are still there, although none of us could touch them. We could feel a coldness tingling in our fingers when we drew close.”

  Colin sighed. “I’ll t
ake care of them.” He reached for Aeren again, motioning with his hand. “Help me up.”

  “Your wound—” Siobhaen began, but Aeren grabbed Colin’s hand and pulled him into a seated position. Colin gasped, hunching forward, his hand going to the bandages at his side matted with dried blood.

  With his other hand,he gestured again toAeren.“All the way.”

  Aeren frowned in disapproval.“Do you want something to eat?” he asked as he pulled Colin into a standing position, then supported him as he gained his balance. “We saved you some of the rabbit.”

  Colin’s breathing came in rasping heaves, but the human swallowed and shook his head. “No,” he gasped, then coughed. “No, the Shadow first.”

  He staggered toward where the Shadow had fallen, arm still pulled tight to his side. His footsteps faltered, but gained strength as he moved, his back straightening. Aeren watched with trepidation, waiting for him to collapse, but when he reached the place where the Shadow had fallen, the lord drew in a deep sigh and released it slowly.

  “Is he always this stubborn?” Siobhaen asked curtly.

  “Yes,” Aeren said with a thin smile, thinking back to the battle at the Escarpment. “Especially when he’s hurt.”

  They watched in silence as Colin knelt and inspected the remains of the Shadow closely. He frowned, then searched the surrounding area until he found a small stick. He tried to lift the strange folds with the end of the stick, but it merely passed through the clothlike material as if it weren’t there, as the sukrael passed through blades when they attacked. Colin cursed, the meaning clear even though Aeren was too distant to catch the words, then dropped the stick and carefully picked up the skin of the Shadow with his bare hands, his face twisted in distaste.

  He rose and headed straight for the Well, tossing the pieces of the Shadow into the clear waters where they floated for a moment, then began to sink and dissolve. Aeren and Siobhaen joined him as the last vestiges of the Shadow drifted into nothing in the depths.

  “I thought it would pass right through you, as it did with the stick,” Siobhaen said softly.

  Colin grimaced. “One of the advantages of being shaeveran.”

  Siobhaen swallowed, her shoulders tense. “Did it hurt?”

  Colin turned to meet her gaze, stepping back from the Well. “It burned,” he said, then glanced toward Aeren. “Now, where’s that rabbit?”

  Colin ate, and then returned to rest, his face pale and drawn. At one point, Aeren thought he had a fever, his forehead shiny with sweat, although it was hard to tell with the perpetual drip of water from the cavern’s ceiling. When Siobhaen brought a cloth chilled with a chunk of ice, Colin frowned in his sleep, muttered something about a Well before slipping away again. Siobhaen shot Aeren a questioning look, but he merely shrugged.

  Eraeth and Hiroun returned a day later, carrying a brace of snowy white hare, Hiroun holding his arm awkwardly at his side.

  “What happened?”Aeren said as he took the meat,passing half to Siobhaen, whose nose wrinkled in distaste even though she complied.

  Eraeth answered as they began preparing them for the fire.“Wolf.Larger than any wolf I’ve ever seen,and colored gray to fade into the snow.We think it could smell the blood of the hare and tracked us as we made our way back to the tunnel. It attacked last night, managed to get a hold on Hiroun before we wounded it enough so it retreated.”

  At Aeren’s concerned look, Hiroun said, “It will heal.”

  Eraeth nodded toward Colin. “Has he woken?”

  “Briefly. Long enough to take care of the remains of the Shadow and eat. But he’s still recovering.”

  “We can’t wait much longer,” Eraeth said. “Not if we want to have any hope of catching up to Vaeren and the others and retrieving the knife.”

  “We don’t need to retrieve the knife.”

  Hiroun started at the hoarse voice, and then everyone turned as Shaeveran raised himself to a seated position, leaning on one arm.

  “What do you mean?” Eraeth barked. “Of course we need to retrieve the knife. They stole it!”

  Colin shook his head, then grimaced as he pushed himself to his feet and joined them at the fire. None of the Alvritshai offered to help. “The knife is unimportant now.”

  “You learned something from the Well,” Aeren stated.

  Colin settled in near the fire. “Walter and the Wraiths have been busy.”

  “What do you mean?” Siobhaen asked this time. “We haven’t heard or seen anything from them for nearly thirty years. Since the Winter Tree, our only reports of altercations with them have been from those who dare to venture outside the Seasonal Trees’ influence.”

  “We haven’t heard from them because they’ve been working far to the east, out past the dwarren’s borders, where none of the three Seasonal Trees’ power can touch them.”

  “What have they done?” Aeren asked.

  Colin remained silent for a long moment, staring into the fire while Eraeth spitted one of the gutted and skinned rabbits and set it to roast over the flames. Hiroun had already done the same for one of Siobhaen’s.

  “I think he’s awakened another Well,” he fi nally said. “And by the force of the currents in the Lifeblood, by the way it’s altering the channels, it’s large. Bigger than any of the Wells I’ve located within the lands of the three races here in New Andover. That’s why the storms over the dwarren plains and Alvritshai lands have returned, and why they seem so much more powerful so quickly. And that’s why there are lights on the tundra here when there are no reports of such lights in the Alvritshai Scripts.Whatever Walter has awakened, it’s completely upset the balance of the Lifeblood. We need to find out what he’s done and repair it if possible. The theft of the knife is nothing in comparison.”

  Eraeth scowled and twisted the end of the spit viciously. Fat sizzled in the fire beneath.

  “Are you certain it’s Walter?” Siobhaen asked.

  “It must be. I know of no one else who would even attempt such a thing.”

  The small group considered his words in silence, while the rest of the rabbit was cleaned and readied for the spit.

  Finally, Aeren said, “Then we must go east, to see what Walter and the Wraiths are trying to accomplish. And to stop them.”

  Colin was already shaking his head. “No. I can’t allow it. Moiran will not allow it.”

  Aeren stiffened where he sat. “Moiran does not decide the fate of the Rhyssal House, or its lord.”

  Colin smiled. “I’m certain she’d disagree. But it doesn’t matter. I need you in Caercaern, watching Lotaern. The knife may be unimportant, but whatever Lotaern intends to do with it isn’t. You need to remain behind to contend with him.”

  “So you intend to travel east on your own?” Eraeth asked.

  “If necessary.”As Eraeth drew breath to argue,he added, “But no. What Walter has done has happened on the edges of dwarren lands, and whatever he intends to do, it will affect the dwarren first. I intend to seek the dwarren’s help.”

  Aeren frowned. “You would trust the dwarren over the Alvritshai, over me?”

  “Not over you or Eraeth or Moiran. But over Lotaern and most of the Lords of the Evant . . . yes. The dwarren have accepted me since the Escarpment, and in many respects they are better equipped to deal with the Shadows and the Wraiths. Their shamans are powerful.”

  “So is the Order, so are the acolytes,” Siobhaen added defensively.

  Colin frowned at her, long enough that her stiffness faltered. “Perhaps. But the dwarren have made a ritual of hunting the Shadows and the Wraiths, of killing them. They form war parties called trettarus to hunt them down. If I am going to search the Wraiths out, I’d rather have the shaman-blessed dwarren warriors at my side.”

  Siobhaen appeared stung by the mild rebuke, her eyes narrowing in anger.

  “You can’t travel to them alone,” Aeren said. “Not in your condition. What about the humans? They have lands close to the east as well. You should contact th
em, see if they are willing to help.”

  Colin snorted in disdain. “Those in the Provinces would not help me. I am nothing but a legend to them. No one who remembers me from the Escarpment is still alive, and those in power now are too caught up in the politics between the old continent and the new. The Feud may have ended, and the Provinces freed from the Court and the Families back home, but there are still ties binding them together. I doubt King Justinian would recognize me if I showed up in his Court, let alone trust me enough to give me aid.”

  “I will accompany you to the dwarren lands, and beyond.”

  Siobhaen’s announcement shocked them all, Aeren rocking back where he sat as if he’d been pushed, Eraeth merely going still with a suspicious frown.

  “I thought you’d want to return to the Sanctuary,” Colin said carefully.

  “After defying Vaeren? I’m not certain what kind of welcome I would get.”

  “You don’t answer to Vaeren,” Eraeth said tightly. “You answer to the Chosen.”

  “But Lotaern listens to Vaeren, more so than most.” Siobhaen met Eraeth’s glare and didn’t flinch.

  Aeren didn’t trust her either, not after what had happened with Vaeren, and not after what he’d seen Siobhaen do in the temples as they made their way northward, but he said nothing when Colin said, “Very well.”

  But he intended to have words with Colin when neither Siobhaen nor Eraeth would overhear. He didn’t like how she’d inserted herself into the group, didn’t like how intrusive it felt, no matter that she’d stayed to protect them from the sukrael. He had the entire trip back to his House lands to convince Colin to leave her behind, and to accept a contingent of Rhyssal House guards as well.

  “It may be moot,” Eraeth muttered, his voice nearly a growl. “We may catch up to Vaeren and the others before we reach Gaurraenan’s halls.”

  Siobhaen glanced away abruptly, but it was Colin who answered, taking one of the spits from the fire, the rabbit glistening in the light, the meat charred. The smell had permeated the area and Aeren’s stomach rumbled. Meals had been lean the last few days as they awaited Eraeth’s return.