It was Sath’s turn to frown. “Bah, I have no need of the dragonkind, nor do they have need of us.” His face darkened as he took a long drink from his glass before continuing to speak. “Our legends teach that we were once beasts, like those that you no doubt have encountered as you have moved farther and farther away from the settlement at Calder’s Port.” Raedea nodded, not daring to speak for fear that if she did, he would stop telling her the story of his kind. She found his voice, in combination with the ale that she had consumed, to be soothing to the point of making her a little sleepy, so she sat up straighter in her chair. “We were merely giant cats, roaming the Grasslands and living our lives as creatures with no real sentience. We were afraid of humans, but not of much else that we found in our world.
“Then one day, there was a great rumble throughout our world. It was as though Orana herself had shouted and broken her very crust. The dragonkind, who had been hibernating in her mountains, burst forth in the fiery lava that erupted from their peaks, and with them came the magic of Orana. That magic touched everything on her surface, from plants and trees to oceans to even the beings that lived in her care.” He paused a moment to take a sip of his ale. “I am assuming that nothing I have told you so far is new, darlin?”
“No, you assume correctly. We learned about the birth of the dragons and the dragonkind,” she said, still entranced by his story.
Sath smiled at her. “Well here is something you don’t know. When that magic flowed out alongside the lava and dragons, it swept over the face of our world and filled Orana’s creations. It created the druids and rangers from the wood elves, those already so in touch with our world that it was not a stretch for them to be able to control the natural world. It filled the high elves of Alynatalos and gave them the powers of healing and protection, as they were best suited to watch over their elven cousins.”
“And it filled my kind with a mix of all of it,” Raedea said, finding herself becoming a bit anxious to hear of the Qatu and uninterested in what she had already learned from school. “We are healers and druids, we are rangers and knights, and we have also some that learn the ways of the darker side of Orana’s magic.”
“Aye, the corrupted ways of those elves that choose to live underground and take from the source directly,” Sath said, spitting and hissing a bit. “I underestimated your education, darlin. Then how is it that you do not know of the creation of the Qatu?”
Raedea shrugged her shoulders. “We truly did not learn anything about you, Sath. I do not know why, but I always assumed you were a sort of…byproduct, if you will, of the dragonkind.” His face twisted into a snarl that told her he did not care for that analogy, but softened as he looked at her.
“We are a byproduct, of sorts,” he said, resigned. “It was the magic of Orana that filled us, the highest order of beast that she had created, which caused some of us to begin to evolve. My ancestors were the beasts that had traveled the farthest away from the others of our kind, and we think that’s why the change occurred only in us.” He took another sip of his ale and, upon discovering that his glass was empty, frowned. “Several generations were required for us to become the modern Qatu. Our language evolved from the vocalizations our ancestors used to communicate very basic information, which is why I have been told that Qatunari sounds like growling and purring.” He chuckled. “Have you ever heard it?”
“No! Would you teach me some?” Raedea asked eagerly.
“Ah, I would be honored,” Sath said, “but not tonight. I think that coming to the end of my story and the ale at the same time are signs too obvious to be ignored.” He stood and stretched, still a bit wobbly from the ale. “Perhaps I shall meet you here again another night and we can trade languages? Surely you know more than the common tongue, yes?”
Raedea smiled. “I know most of the languages, actually,” she said, blushing again. “It was my favorite subject in my training at the Temple.” She glowered a bit. “I will not be here after tonight, I fear. Where are you staying?”
Sath laughed sadly. “Wherever I can find a tree and some soft ground,” he said.
Raedea smiled up at him and then shook her head. “No you aren’t. You may stay in my room tonight; it is already paid for.” Sath raised his eyebrows as his eyes widened in surprise. Raedea looked at him for a moment, puzzled, before his misunderstanding occurred to her. “OH! No, no I am not suggesting… I mean not that we… or that you and I…no, not at all.” Her face flushed as red as her cloak that she quickly gathered up and fussed over until she got herself back together. “I meant…”
Sath put one clawed finger in front of her lips to stop her from talking. “No worries, darlin,” he said gently. “I understand what you meant. I have a bedroll and will happily take the spot in front of the fireplace in your room for the night.” His gaze caught hers and held it, and she could see the depth of his sincerity. “I promise you, nothing will happen tonight except two friends getting a good night sleep. We are friends, aren’t we?”
Raedea nodded and held out her hand to him. He took it, grasping her forearm as she did the same to his. “Aye we are. Raedea Dawnshadow at your service, sir,” she said with a grin.
“Sathlir Clawsharp, at yours my lady,” he replied as they both broke out into a fit of laughter. Raedea led him up the stairs to the tiny room she had rented, feeling happy and safe for the first time in many seasons. She saw him pause out of the corner of her eye as she put her bag down next to the bed, and then smiled as he came on inside and shut the door. “Shall I bolt it?” he asked tentatively.
“Yes, please,” she said. He laid the bolt carefully in place and then crossed the room. Raedea was amazed at how silently he could move, being as big as he was. He rolled out his bedroll in front of the fireplace, taking care to be a safe distance in case there were sparks.
“Good night, my lady,” he said. Raedea had turned around and was climbing into bed herself, but looked over her shoulder as he spoke. His teal eyes were warm as they met her gaze, but still guarded.
“Rae, please. Call me Rae,” she said. “Sleep well, Sath.”
Ten
The months wore on for Gin as she and the rest of her little tribe struck out following dead end after dead end in pursuit of Dorlagar’s sister: it became one year, and then two since she had taken up with them. She watched, concerned, as the light seemed to drain out of his eyes like sand through an hourglass. He became calculated, cold, and heartless in his hunting and killing, and she no longer felt safe with him nearby. To make matters worse, Naevys had said to her on several occasions that she was sure that Dorlagar had some very strong feelings for her and that Gin was to make sure that he did not leave their little family, regardless of how she did it. And the more Gin pulled back from Dorlagar, the more Nelenie seemed to be drawn to him, a fact that worried Gin and often kept her up at night.
They had stopped for a time near Calder’s Port to replenish their stores of food and water, and Dorlagar spent a lot of that time in the local pub. They had looked for any signs of his sister in every pub in their path, and only found one barmaid that may have seen her. Ivy, as she was called, told them stories about a human woman matching her description who was traveling with a Qatu whose name she refused to give up. Dorlagar was convinced that was a dead end as well, because his sister would have no way to know any Qatu as none had been seen near human settlements for hundreds of years. The only Qatu that Gin knew anything about was the Bane of the Forest, but even then she didn’t know his name.
Dorlagar was drunk most of the time that they were in Calder’s Port, and as a result, he did not go out and hunt with them at all. When they returned, he would be waiting out in front of the pub, more often than not because he had been thrown out of it for causing a ruckus. On their last day there, Nelenie and Gin had gone out to hunt just the two of them, and as they headed back to the inn where their rooms were, he was again out front, red in the face and looking for a fight.
“Where have you two b
een, then?” he called out as they tried to walk past in a hurry.
Nelenie stopped and turned to face him. “Dor, babe, you need sleep. Come on, Gin and I will take you to your room so you can grab a nap before we eat.” She reached out for one of his arms and he yanked it away, nearly backhanding Gin in the process. “Okay, you want it the hard way,” she muttered. “Fine. Gin, grab his feet once he’s off them, yeah?”
“NO!” he bellowed. Gin reached for his knees but did not expect Dorlagar to be moving as quickly as he was. He snatched her up, her head in the crook of his elbow and her feet off the ground. She kicked at him but he merely laughed. “I’ll go when I’m ready!” he said, his chuckle turning dark as he spoke.
“Put her down, Dor,” Nelenie said, her eyes narrowing as she glared at him. “You don’t want to hurt Gin, do you?”
As though he had just figured out who she was, Dorlagar turned her around to face him and kissed her roughly on her cheek. “No, you’re right, I don’t,” he said, flinging Gin to one side. “It’s you I want to hurt.” As he squared off against Nelenie, she turned back to Gin quickly.
“Go get Naevys,” she hissed at Gin and then raised her broadsword to the level of her eyes. Gin scrambled away, jumping as she heard steel clash with steel behind her. They would be lucky if the local militia did not drag both of them to the stocks for fighting in the street. Soon she was running up the stairs to the suite of rooms they had rented and banging on the door with her tiny fists.
The door swung open and Lyrea’s angry gaze met hers. “What do you want?” she barked. There was no love lost between them since Gin had asked too many questions about Lyrea’s parents, and why she had not chosen to live in Aynamaede with her Elven father.
“It’s Nel and Dor, they’re fighting in the street,” Gin said in a rush, nearly out of breath.
“And?”
“And Nel asked me to get Naevys,” Gin snapped. Lyrea was a good foot or so taller than Gin and she moved very close to her, looking down at Gin with fire blazing in her almond-shaped dark brown eyes.
“And I’m telling you not now,” the half-elf replied brusquely before slamming the door in Gin’s face. Gin stood there a moment, pushing back the angry tears that pricked the backs of her eyelids. She took a breath and again knocked on the door. There was no answer this time. Gin returned to the room she shared with Nelenie and Dorlagar and began packing her things. This had gone too far. There was nothing for her here, and it was time to try to get back home.
She was sitting on the bed when Nelenie burst through the door, dragging an unconscious Dorlagar along behind her by one of his boots. “What happened to you?” she snapped at Gin. “I sent you for help!”
“Lyrea wouldn’t let me get to Naevys,” Gin said quietly. “I tried.”
With one last shove, Dorlagar was through the doorway and thrown into a heap at the end of one of the beds in the room. His armor was halfway unlaced and his helm was tucked in one of his backpacks under his arm. “You didn’t try hard enough and you certainly didn’t come back to tell me any of that or help me with him,” Nelenie said with a grunt as she slammed their door. “Are you going to eat with them tonight?” Gin shook her head. “Fine, stay here and watch him then.” Nelenie crossed the room and pulled off her own helm and then splashed some water on her face and redid her ponytail before storming out the door. Dorlagar stirred, moaned, and then lay down on his back. Gin went over to him and smoothed his hair back before turning him over on his side in case he was sick. She would not be there to help if he was.
Gin quickly replaced her armor, as it was not a good idea to travel through unknown lands unprotected. Once she had all of her armor secured, she slipped out the back door and summoned Beau. She lifted herself up into the saddle and took one long look toward their windows. She was sure that she had heard Dorlagar calling after her as she had scampered down the stairs, and as she rode away, she was certain she heard him calling after her, but she made no answer.
“Never again,” she swore under her breath, and clung to Beau’s neck as he flew out the front gates and across the countryside toward the forest. “I swear it. I am finished with Naevys and the lot of them.” A twinge around her heart gave her pause as she thought of Nelenie, but she had to let that go. This was a new dawn and a new day for her, and thoughts of her old life with them would only hold her back. The minute she was far enough away, she released Beau to the four winds and cast a spell that would take her back home to the forest. Hopefully, the druid’s guild would take her back in; as a nanny or servant, it hardly mattered, she would take whatever they offered. Gin lifted her chin as the spell took hold, striking a proud pose even though she was terrified on the inside. “Home,” she said as she winked out of sight.
Eleven
Gin was accepted back into the community of wood elves, but many of her former friends kept their distance except to offer pleasantries. The druid’s guild took her in and set her to work training young druids, but she was monitored as she led the young ones through their lessons, just as her mentor had led her a few seasons prior. It frustrated her but she knew that Naevys had left no friends in Aynamaede and her association with the older druid had all but ruined Gin’s name among her guild.
She was sitting in her classroom one day preparing the next day’s lessons when she was interrupted by a loud argument just outside the door. She got up, chuckling as she recognized the voices as belonging to her younger sister, Lairceach, and their cousins Iseabel and Kaewenye.
“There is nothing wrong with being a ranger, Kae,” Iseabel was complaining. She and Gin’s own sister had started with the ranger’s guild at the same time, as they were the same age. Their strikingly similar appearance had caused quite a stir, and they were known for pulling pranks on their guild masters. Kae, as she was called, pushed a stray lock of jet-black hair behind her ear.
“How do you think rangers like you, who don’t have any kind of transportation magic, can get in and out of tight spots? You can’t without one of us to scout the way first!” she fired back. On the other side of the door, Gin smiled at the young girl’s bravado. She had been that sure of herself once.
“I don’t need a scout as long as I have my bow,” Iseabel replied sourly. “I can take out enemies before you even reach them while tracking.”
“Uh, we can use bows too you know,” Lairky (as Gin called her) snapped at Kae. “We may not have the range but we don’t need it. With my tracking ability, I can sneak up behind an orc and bury an arrow to the fletching in its grubby neck before it even knows I am there. Beat that!”
“Girls,” Gin said, seeing that this argument was going nowhere and deciding to intervene before one of them got a demonstration of the other one’s skill with a bow. She stuck her head out of the classroom and the three young wood elves fell silent, each blushing with mortification.
“You won’t tell my guild master, will you Ginny?” Lairky said cautiously. Due to their age difference, Gin had been more mother than sister to the young girl; but in her absence Lairky had come to take care of herself. Their older brother, Cursik, spent more and more time away and hunting with the older rangers, and was barely here at all. Gin scowled at the use of the nickname but decided not to bring that up at the moment.
“No, of course not,” she said. “But you girls must learn that every skill is important, none more than any other,” Gin said. “Every person has gifts, and as long as you are focused only on your own talents, you will not see those that others have to offer.” She smoothed a piece of blonde hair out of Isaebel’s face, causing the younger elf to pull back from her touch. Gin frowned. “I wanted to be a ranger like you when I was younger, Izzy,” she said softly. Isaebel’s eyes widened. “I was going to go against my nature, my family, and my upbringing and be taken into the ranger guild. But it was not to be.” She paused a moment to wipe away a tear. “My mentor was killed by…well, she died, most unexpectedly, and I could not think of anything at the time but how that woul
d affect me and my training. She was one of the most talented rangers ever to come from our tree city and I should have joined with the community to mourn her loss but instead I could only think of my own ambitions. It’s why I didn’t pay attention as I should in my own training, and why now I’m only fit to provide healing magic in battle.”
“Well that’s just stupid,” Lairky said, causing the other two to gasp in surprise. “Seriously. I have seen you, Gin, you’re just as good a druid as any other. You just let that traitorous Naevys tell you that you weren’t.”
“Lairky. That’s enough,” Gin said, her eyes blazing. “The All-Mother provided for me and made me into a druid as was Her will. If we all stop trying to take control and let Her in, she will provide.” She looked from face to face, and then smiled. “What are you girls doing out at this hour anyway?”
“Lairky and I were working on our safe falling skill, Gin,” Iseabel said, “when Kae turned up to brag.” Iseabel poked her sister in the ribs causing Kae to spin around and draw her dagger.
“I’d like to see YOU jump off that platform and not die, my sister!” she exclaimed as she shoved Iseabel toward the edge.
“ENOUGH,” Gin said, and immediately the girls separated. “Lairky, if you would, please take them back to ours and start supper preparations? I will be along soon.” The three nodded and headed off toward the hut that Gin shared with her sister while her parents were away on a hunt with the rest of the elder druids. She watched them go for a moment, and then turned around to head back into her classroom.
Arms closed around her and pulled her backward against rough chain mail armor as a hand closed around her mouth. “Don’t make a sound,” a male voice rasped in her ear. Immediately Gin stilled, not making a peep, and then gasped as she stumbled free. She looked up at her attacker and grinned as she saw her brother Cursik staring down at her, frowning. “What was THAT? No reaction? Where is my feisty little sister?” he said, his hands on his hips.
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