Kilenya Series Books 1, 2, and 3

by Andrea Pearson

  Chapter 2. An Army Coming

  Jacob and Matt burst into a clearing where a huge, magnificent tree stretched skyward—leafless, with twisted branches. Canyon walls rose on either side of the clearing, and stone Makalo dwellings were built in crevices in the walls.

  It only took a few minutes to reach Akeno’s house. Jacob kept an eye on Matt, appreciating his reaction to their surroundings. Matt kept pointing out different things, his eyes lighting up at all the new stuff to see.

  Ebony, a blonde Makalo woman with very dark eyes, opened the door and directed Jacob and Matt to the table, where Akeno sat eating a bowl of soup. Ebony offered the brothers some, which they gladly accepted.

  Akeno clapped Jacob on the back, a large smile on his face. “You got us out of the castle.”

  Jacob nodded. “Only because you kept your finger lit.” He sat down. “Glad you’re okay.” He ate his soup slowly, his excitement giving way to contentment. Akeno was better, and Matt was with him. If Aloren were there, this scene would be perfect.

  “Did they tell you?” he asked Akeno. “Aloren’s still in Maivoryl City.”

  “She is? No, they did not tell me!” Akeno stared at his mom. “What’s she doing there?”

  “Who’s Aloren again?” Matt asked, leaning forward. “Is she hot?”

  Jacob rolled his eyes and turned back to Akeno. “I didn’t have a way to bring her without leaving you somewhere. There just wasn’t time, and you would have died.”

  “Is she still with Eachan?”

  Jacob shook his head. “Don’t know. I hope so.”

  Akeno shut his eyes and didn’t say anything for a moment. “What’s being done to get her out?”

  Ebony cleared her throat. “We’ll talk about that later.” She motioned to his leg. “Why don’t you show them your wound?”

  Akeno lifted his pant leg. “It’s much better. Only hurts a little now.”

  Jacob frowned when he saw Akeno’s leg. The wound was still clearly there, pinker than the skin around it, with yellow toward the center. “It’s not completely healed?” He looked at Ebony. “Didn’t you use a very powerful potion?”

  Ebony sat at the table. “Yes, but Lorkon wounds aren’t normal. We’re lucky the Fat Lady found a potion which will even help. Kaede Sap does next to nothing. It’ll be a while before Akeno is completely ready for normal life.”

  “Just so long as he can help me get Aloren. I hope it won’t take too long.”

  “Now, Jacob, what we said a few days ago still holds true, and Akeno probably won’t be able to go at all.”

  Akeno looked very disappointed, and Jacob frowned. How fair would it be if the Makalo had to stay behind?

  Matt looked up from his soup. “I want to help. When are we going?”

  Akeno cleared his throat. It looked like he’d pushed the disappointment aside. “We can’t leave her there.”

  Ebony shook her head. “And we won’t.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Matt asked, his eyes lighting up. “Sounds like fun! Let’s go now!”

  Ebony put her hands on her hips, a stern expression crossing her features. “Listen to me, boys. You won’t be going until we have time to prepare. We need to completely understand what’s going on there before any of us blindly rush in. It would be terrible if you got stuck there as well.”

  Jacob shook his head. He met eyes with Akeno—the Makalo looked just as concerned as Jacob felt. Leaving Aloren there was cruel. Especially when they already knew what to expect.

  Matt finished his soup, his eyes drifting to the pot on the stove. Ebony chuckled and ladled more in his bowl, and Jacob, remembering his own soup, finished it.

  Suddenly, the sound of clanging alarm bells sounded through the air. Ebony put the bowl and ladle down and ran and opened the door, making the sound much louder. Kenji raced down the path toward the house, waving at the people inside.

  The din from the bells was so loud, Jacob felt as if his head would split, and men and women ran from building to building.

  “There’s an army coming.” Kenji pointed to Matt and Jacob. “We need you to come help seal the entrance.”

  A harried-looking Makalo rushed into the house. “The reports are correct,” he said to Kenji. “The army will be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty minutes?” Kenji asked. “How’s that possible? They’ve barely left Fornchall!”

  “Yes, but they have Sindons.”

  Kenji’s eyes widened. “Oh, great.”

  “What’s a Sindon?” Matt whispered.

  Jacob shrugged, shaking his head. He’d never heard the word before.

  Kenji straightened and motioned to the brothers. “Come quickly. We have much to do. I’ll explain on the way.”

  He ran down the path and lowered himself over the ledge to the meadow. Jacob and Matt raced to catch up, hurrying down the stone steps. Early flitted through the air, talking to Matt, but he tried to shoo her away. A group was assembling near the path that led to the entrance to Taga. Jacob recognized one of them as a Makalo he’d nicknamed “Butch” when he had first come to the village. Kenji passed the group, yelling at them to follow. He spoke to Jacob as they ran.

  “We’ve kept a constant lookout from the tree since you left Taga, searching for any sign that the Lorkon were coming after you. Good thing we did. Not an hour ago, the guard noticed strange activity in Fornchall and alerted Brojan.”

  “Who’s Brojan?” Matt asked.

  “The head guy—patriarch—over the Makalos,” Jacob said.

  The trail wound upward through the thin forest. Kenji’s words came in gasps now. “We feared an attack. The wood planks over the entrance . . . won’t withstand much.”

  He stopped talking, probably to focus on hiking, his breathing heavy. After several feet, it looked like the Makalo wouldn’t make it much farther—Jacob had forgotten Kenji’s age. In fact, everyone struggled to continue, except for Butch, who looked excited. Finally, Kenji stopped and bent forward, hands on knees, taking deep breaths.

  He pointed at Butch. “You, go. Use . . . Minya. Jacob, mold . . . wood.”

  Jacob, Matt, and Butch left the older people behind and raced up the trail in silence. They rounded a large boulder and the forest ended, revealing the entrance.

  “We’ve got about ten minutes,” Butch said, pulling at the beams on the entrance. “We have to get rid of the old stuff first.”

  Matt and Jacob ran to his side to rip the wood off the tunnel, tossing it over their shoulders.

  The Makalo motioned to Jacob. “Do your thing. And hurry.” He then scanned the skies, found Early, and had her report to Brojan.

  Jacob frowned. “Uh, what do I—”

  Butch waved his hand. “Mold it together, mold it together! Make it into a sheet big enough to cover the entrance.”

  Jacob fell to his knees and grabbed the first two pieces of wood. Holding his palm over the crack, he waited for the grain to heat. When that happened, he pushed the edges together. He nearly dropped the board, though, when a bright flash of light burst from the seam, almost blinding him, and the entire board glowed brilliantly in gold and silver.

  Butch dropped the wood he held and stared at Jacob. “What’d you do?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Jacob said, and grimaced. It would be really bad if he’d ruined things. Was that possible? Were his powers destructive? He hoped not.

  “Well, keep going.”

  Sweat trickled down Jacob’s back and on his face under the hot August sun. He wiped it off his forehead, glancing through the tunnel to the withered trees on the other side. He dropped his eyes, focusing instead on putting the panels together, while Matt and Butch gathered other bits for him to fuse to the large, growing sheet.

  Early returned. “The army stopped. Brojan will tell us when they continue. He said to hurry.” She disappeared.

  Kenji and the other Makalos came around the bend, looking exhausted.

  “Any. . . sign . . . of the
army?” Kenji asked.

  “No, sir,” Butch said. “They stopped.”

  “Good.” Kenji faced the Makalos behind him. “We need more wood. You three, gather what’s left on the ground and take it to Jacob.” He turned to Matt. “You any good with an ax?”

  Matt nodded. “Definitely!”

  Kenji pointed to one that was leaning against the canyon wall near the entrance. It looked like it hadn’t been used in years. “Take that, chop up the large pieces—make them as flat and square as you can.” He motioned to a group of Makalos. “You four help him.” Kenji turned, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll keep watch for the Sindons. We can expect them to continue their advance, and they should be here any minute.”

  Jacob grabbed another piece, heating it until the seam disappeared with a flash of light. He was used to that by now, but Kenji jumped, staring at him.

  “Give me that,” he said. He inspected a section, his expression turning thoughtful. Then surprise crossed his face. “That’s . . . unexpected. Not only have you made it into one piece—as if it’d always been this way—but you’ve recharged the Rezend, making it new again, and probably stronger than it was before.” He looked at Jacob. “How’d you do that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jacob said. “It didn’t feel any different from the other times I’ve molded something.”

  The ground trembled, and everyone paused to look toward the entrance.

  Early reappeared. “The army is coming!”

  “Don’t stop—hurry, people, hurry!” Kenji called.

  Jacob raced to put more wood together, but he struggled to keep up with the constant supply of broken boards. He was the only one doing this, and there were many people chopping.

  He did his best not to pay attention to the others who urged him onward. How could he force himself to go faster when it took time for the wood to heat up before he could seal it together? His hands started to blister, and he bit his lip in frustration. Why’d he have to be the only one who could do this sort of thing?

  He breathed a sigh of relief when Kenji told him to stop, but the frustration poured over him again like hot oil when the Makalo had him start another sheet so they could double up the covering for the entrance.

  “We can’t take any risks. Two will be better than one.”

  “I can’t keep up,” Jacob said, jerking his hand back when a large sliver pierced his skin.

  “Do your best—and hurry.”

  The ground shook again. Harder this time.

  A flurry of activity surrounded Jacob as everyone hurried to complete their tasks. He darted around the growing slab, piecing it together, no longer able to feel the wood he molded. His speed at warming up the grain increased—perhaps because he was so focused on the task, or maybe he was imagining it.

  Questions raced through his mind. What would happen if they were too late in covering the tunnel entrance? He didn’t even want to think about that. He jumped up to grab several boards, tossing one away when part of it crumbled in his hands.

  The ground quaked much more forcefully, and Jacob fell to his hands and knees. He glanced at the tunnel—the diseased forest again visible—and found himself enchanted by the motion of the trees. They were bending away from the entrance. Horrible memories jumped to his mind as he remembered the last time that happened. The trees had been trying to reach the female Lorkon. Was she on her way? Was she part of the attack? His hands became cold and clammy, despite the heat, as he thought about encountering her again. He doubted he’d get away this time.

  Another tremble—this one violent and lasting several seconds—knocked everyone to the ground, and they all turned to face what was coming.