by Callie Kanno
His oval head bobbed on his long neck, making him seem even more snake-like in the dim light. “No, I suppose not. Your cause is just and your intentions are noble, but you are not going about it correctly.”
Adesina couldn’t help but smile. Ruon always seemed to think that they were doing something wrong. At first it had made Adesina frustrated—even angry—to hear him be so critical. However, she had discovered that he often had suggestions to go with his comments—but he never gave them unless asked.
“What do you think I should be doing?”
The Laithur’s small, dark eyes seemed to glitter, even though there was so little light around them. “There is a way for you to draw energy from the world around you and take it into your body.”
Adesina found herself nodding before he was finished talking. “Yes, I have been taught—”
He cut her off, as he often did when he could See what she was about to say. “No, I do not mean such primitive practices. What I suggest is more refined, more advanced.”
She indicated her willingness to listen.
“Take a deep breath,” Ruon instructed, “and instead of bringing air into your body, gather in energy and determination and all else that your body and soul need.”
“Breathe in energy?” Adesina asked dubiously.
Ruon nodded. “Life is everywhere. It fills the air more thickly than particles of dust. Breathe it in and let it restore your mind and body.”
The young woman frowned thoughtfully. “Does that not take energy away from something else?”
“No more than breathing next to another person takes away their air,” responded Ruon. “In a contained space it would be a concern, but the world is vast and Life is abundant. You need not worry that you are harming others. Simply focus on what you are doing, otherwise you will gain nothing.”
Adesina closed her eyes. She imagined that the air around her was filled with golden particles of life force, and she took a deep breath. The particles rushed into her body and immediately spread to dispel her weariness.
She looked at the Laithur in amazement. It had been many days since she had last felt so invigorated. “Why did not Sitara teach me this earlier?”
Ruon snorted in derision. “Because, in spite of the opinions held by both of you, Sitara does not know everything. The Children of the Light bask in vyala like the sun, taking no regard for its abundance. The Children of Night have learned to conserve and to be more wise in how we use it.”
“This is a demon skill?” Adesina asked, feeling rather uneasy.
“The Children of Night are not the same as the Children of Darkness,” snapped Ruon. “The Children of Darkness are those who willfully turn from the Light. The Children of Night are simply the balancing force to the Children of Light.”
“Which are the Laithur?” inquired Adesina.
After a short pause Ruon said, “They are both.”
The young woman almost rolled her eyes. “Why are you so upset, then?”
“Because the distinction matters,” he insisted. “Not all Children of Darkness were once Children of Night, and not all Children of Night became Children of Darkness. In fact, the Shimat were once Children of Light and now they are the most dedicated to the Dark. Evil has corrupted them so much that they are unrecognizable as what they once were.”
This new information came as a shock to Adesina. “The Shimat demons were once Children of Light?”
“Of course,” Ruon said, as if it were obvious. “They were the male counterparts to the Serraf.”
Adesina was dumbfounded by this revelation.
She suddenly saw this conflict in a whole new light. Adesina had assumed that Sitara was fighting against Cha-sak because they were natural enemies, but that was not the case. Once they had been friends and partners.
How would she feel if L’iam suddenly embraced all that was evil and sought to destroy her?
“I did not know,” Adesina said softly.
“Your education is sorely lacking,” said Ruon in disapproval. “You have only given attention to developing your Serraf abilities.”
Adesina could not help but feel a bit defensive. “Does it not make sense to focus on that first? After all, I am now a Serraf.”
“No,” responded the Laithur heatedly, “you are not just a Serraf.”
Adesina stared at him in surprise. She had not expected his answer, nor the passionate way in which he said it.
“You are the Threshold Child. You are not just a Serraf, nor do you belong to them. The Threshold Child is all races, and must have the best interests of all in mind. The Serraf are trying to control how you fulfill the prophecy, but it is not their right to do so.”
Adesina felt that Ruon was being unfair. “Sitara is only trying to help me. She is not controlling me or manipulating me.”
He went on with bitterness in his voice. “The Serraf and the Aurym are always trying to control everything. They think themselves the natural leaders of us all.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, I was chosen to be leader from now on. Even you supported me, Ruon. Perhaps you should stop blaming them for everything that goes wrong.”
“Are you suggesting that I blame you instead?” he asked with a smile.
“If it makes you feel better,” Adesina answered shortly.
A hissing chuckle escaped Ruon’s thin lips. “I think it would not help as much as it would have in the past. In spite of my best efforts, I am starting to like you.”
Adesina laughed in surprise. “How is that possible?”
Ruon’s expression lost its lightheartedness and he grew serious. “Anything is possible with the Threshold Child.”
Then he turned and walked back into the tent, leaving Adesina with her thoughts.
She could remember her frustration with Ruon for his stubborn refusal to acknowledge her as the Threshold Child. Now that he was placing his trust in her, she almost wished to go back to the time of his doubt. The weight of his words wrapped around her heart, filling her with the fear of her own inadequacies.
So many people were depending on her. How could she possibly live up to so many expectations?
Adesina turned her purple and gold eyes to the sky as if she could find answers written there.
Far in the distance she could see two hawks streaking across the sky, approaching from the south and heading in the direction of the camp. Something tugged at the back of her mind, and she half-turned to call into the tent.
“L’iam, I think you should come here.”
The low murmur of voices inside the tent ceased, and her husband appeared at her side.
“What is it?”
She pointed to the hawks, which were speedily growing nearer. They both were descending, flying lower and lower to the ground. Adesina could see them clearly now. One hawk was grey and the other was a beautiful, glossy black.
The black one landed first. It shimmered like a mirage and then transformed into human form. It was a man with liquid black eyes and cinnamon-colored skin. He had finely chiseled features and wavy black hair, and he wore the simple brown clothing of a Zonnese desert dweller.
The grey hawk landed on his shoulder, and the man walked forward to kneel before L’iam and Adesina. When he looked up at them, his dark eyes were warm with exertion and delight. “Adesina, you are alive! I am so pleased to see you.”
Adesina gripped his arm and brought him to his feet. She smiled broadly in return. “I am pleased to see you as well, Savir. You have travelled far from you home to aid us in our fight. You did not have to do so, and it means so much to me that you did.”
Savir dropped his gaze to the ground in natural modesty. “It is nothing,” he insisted. “You saved my life once, and then your husband saved my life again after you had passed through the Gateway. What could I do but pledge myself to your service?”
Adesina looked at L’iam in curiosity. “You did not mention that you had saved his life. When did this happen?”
L’iam brushed it aside. “He is exaggerating…a bit.” He turned back to the Henka warrior. “I have told you before, Savir, you are not a slave or a servant. You are our friend, and you are welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”
Savir gave a small smile. “Friends can serve one another as well.”
Adesina grinned at the expression of discomfort on her husband’s face, but her smile faded as she remembered the task Savir had been given. “Savir, you have been following the movements of the main Shimat army.”
The Henka nodded solemnly. “Yes, Adesina.”
“Why have you returned?”
He pointed toward the south. “Before the sun sets, you will see the army with your own eyes.”
Adesina instinctively turned in the direction he pointed. Fear clutched her heart, and she struggled to control the powerful emotion.
She did not worry about herself, but her friends and allies were not ready to meet the main force of the Shimat. They had been fighting without relief for almost two weeks, and they were exhausted. How could they be expected to fight mercenaries that were fresh and rested?
L’iam could see the worry on her face, and he guessed what she was thinking. “They are here days sooner than we expected,” he pointed out. “That means they have been forced to march faster than normal, and for a long period of time. They will be tired from the pace they have maintained.”
Adesina nodded. She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help but worry all the same. Her eyes fixed on the horizon, searching for signs of the approaching enemy.
The Shimat were finally here.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: War
The Shimat army reunited with quiet efficiency, melding into one large group—more than ten thousand strong. The sun was beginning to set when they arrived, and so the Shimat leaders seemed content to wait until morning to begin fighting.
Adesina knew that a force of ten thousand soldiers was small compared to the armies of other nations, but it was daunting to face such an army with barely half that number on her side.
She would have had even less—due to the number of those that had been seriously injured or killed—but Than’os had arrived that very day with the last group of soldiers that he had been training at the refugee camp. That was the last of the reinforcements they were likely to receive, unless E’nes was successful in bringing help from Charan.
In the pre-dawn light, Adesina stood on top of the rise that faced the battlefield. Unlike the L’avan, the Shimat did not seem concerned with having some distance between the battlefield and their camp. Perhaps they did not think it likely that their enemies could break through their forces and reach the lines of tents.
It did seem odd, due to the secretive nature of the Shimat order, that they did not choose to camp someplace more secure and secluded. Adesina was able to freely study their camp through her spyglass from where she was standing.
She had spotted Breyen early on, riding through the camp as if he were some sort of demi-god. Seeing her former teacher had brought up ghosts of emotions that she hadn’t felt in a long time. His disdain for the mercenaries was clear on his face, and Adesina wondered how the hired soldiers felt about serving under a man who clearly thought little of them.
The only time Breyen’s superior expression seemed shaken was when she saw him exiting a black tent with blood red banners. He looked decidedly pale and unnerved when he walked away.
“That must be where Cha-sak is hiding,” commented Adesina to Ravi, who stood at her side.
Their Joining made it possible for him to see what she saw, so he knew exactly what she meant.
“It seems likely,” he agreed. “I do wonder why we have not seen Basha. Is she not Cha-sak’s chosen servant? Yet, it appears that Breyen is the leader of the army.”
Adesina nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that is strange. The Basha I knew would not pass up the opportunity to flaunt her power.”
The Shimat soldiers were organizing themselves, and the various Shimat leaders could be seen barking orders.
Adesina lowered her spyglass and took a deep breath.
It wouldn’t be long now.
She could hear the approach of her own forces coming up behind her. The L’avan and Seharan soldiers moved into position on the rise, preparing to rush down the hill into battle when the time came.
Me’shan dismounted his horse and walked over to stand at Adesina’s side. Adesina knew he placed importance on the appearance of a leader, and he would not want her to seem in need of strength or comfort. So instead of reaching out to take his daughter’s hand, he stood close enough that their arms touched.
She smiled up at him. “Good morning, father.”
He chuckled at her casual tone, as if they were meeting on the street in Yavar rather than standing on the edge of battle. “Good morning, Ma’eve.”
Me’shan and Ravi—and E’rian, in the world of Dreams—were the only people that Adesina allowed to call her by that name. Ravi had always called her Ma’eve, and it seemed to bring comfort to Me’shan to do the same. After all, it was the name that his beloved wife had chosen for their daughter.
To Adesina, the name was deeply personal—too personal for regular use. L’iam had suggested that she adopt the name, but it did not seem right to her. She had always been called Adesina, and it was a part of her. Ma’eve was the name of what might have been, and it seemed right that it only be used by her parents and her guardian.
“How is L’iam?” she asked her father.
Me’shan gave her a knowing glance, and she knew the answer before he said it. “He is angry.”
She had slipped out of their tent while L’iam was sleeping and had left word that she had gone on to the battlefield. There had been an argument the previous night about which of them would lead this first battle against the full Shimat force, and they had decided to discuss it again in the morning.
Adesina had taken the decision into her own hands, and her departure forced L’iam to stay in the camp to oversee the deployment of the soldiers.
She had known he would be furious, but it was better than watching him ride into danger while she stayed behind.
But how do you think he feels to be the one in that position? asked Ravi through their Joining.
I know it is selfish, she admitted, but I am willing to be selfish in order to protect the man I love.
A hint of a growl stirred in Ravi’s feline throat, and Adesina could feel waves of his disapproval directed from his mind to hers. Even so, Adesina was unrepentant. She would give her life a thousand times over in order to save L’iam’s life.
“Marriage is always difficult,” ventured Me’shan carefully, “but it is even more difficult if there is no communication. Important decisions should always be made together, even if there is disagreement.”
Adesina knew her father was right, and she also knew that he did not give unsolicited advice unless it was vital. She felt guilty knowing that she had been unfair to L’iam.
“It is too late to go back now,” she muttered, discontent.
“Focus on the task ahead,” said Ravi, “then give a proper apology when you return to camp.”
“Maybe grovel a bit,” added Me’shan with a grin.
Adesina laughed and nodded. “I may do just that.”
“The sun is rising,” came a slightly sibilant voice from behind the trio.
The L’avan queen turned to see Ruon, Sitara, and Riel approaching. Adesina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“I was not expecting to see you here,” she said to them.
Sitara gestured to Ruon, indicating that he was the one responsible. The Laithur seemed unusually serene as he surveyed the battlefield.
“You are going to need us today.”
Adesina felt her skin prickle in apprehension. “Why? What is going to happen?”
He fixed his black eyes on her. “Death.”
Adesina’s uneasiness blossomed into dread. “Whose death?”
> “I See thousands of human faces, frozen by death. No one shall remain untouched by this day.”
“What makes today so different from the others?” asked Me’shan. “Is it because of their superior numbers?”
Ruon shook his head and pointed to the sky. “They are not alone.”
As if on cue, a patch of black appeared overhead. Tendrils of the impossible darkness spread outward like a disease until it blocked out any hint of light.
“Cha-sak,” Sitara said in a low voice.
Many of the soldiers cried out in fear, and Adesina suspected that not all of the crying voices were part of the Seharan or L’avan armies.
She frowned, and her voice was strong with determination. “We are not alone either.”
She called forth her vyala, letting it fill every corner of her being. She anchored her mind to Ravi and let the power swirl around her like a tempest. She raised her hand toward the sky and a ball of light shot out of it. It was a much larger version of what she used when she needed to light her way, and it hovered in the sky like an artificial sun.
The soldiers took heart and raised a cheer.
“Adesina! Adesina!”
Ruon pointed to a spot in the air. “There,” he said to Sitara.
The Serraf sent out a beam of her vyala, and just as Adesina was about to ask the purpose behind her actions, the vyala collided with something invisible and caused a powerful explosion.
“What was that?” Adesina gasped.
“The blackened sky covers Cha-sak’s attacks,” explained Ruon. “Your light source will enable the soldiers to fight, but it will not reveal demonic attacks.”
“Ruon is able to See the explosions, and then he shows me where to stop them from happening,” Sitara added.
“There,” Ruon pointed again.
Sitara sent another beam of vyala where he pointed and the Light and Dark powers clashed with blinding force.
Breyen seemed to realize that Cha-sak could not destroy their enemies as easily as predicted, and he ordered the army of mercenaries and Shimat forward.
As soon as the enemy army began to move, Me’shan began shouting orders.
“L’avan, ready! Red One forward!”
