The Omaja Stone

by Jayla Jasso

  Shush these fantasies, Jiandra, she chided herself when she felt hope rising in her heart. You know it’s almost impossible that you’ll see him again.

  But I need a warm, strong, flesh-and-blood hero to fight for me, protect me, and love me, her heart protested. She chose not to argue with it, because it was only being honest.

  #

  Yajna and his brother crested a ridge overlooking Nandala to descend the path out of the rugged mountain pass, Yavi riding in front. Yavi abruptly halted his horse and held up a hand as a warning signal, and Yajna froze. There in the dusty, barren valley stretching out below them was movement. A large dark mass was moving slowly over the face of the frozen earth.

  Yajna stared. For several seconds, he couldn’t register what he was seeing, because it was unthinkable.

  Emperor Thakur’s Black Armies were marching toward Villeleia.

  Yavi spoke. “He gave up waiting for us to return, I see.”

  Anger surged through Yajna’s veins. “Thakur’s madness has consumed him. He has already devastated Nandala; will he destroy Villeleia as well? Many innocent Villeleians will be crushed if they are taken by surprise, and the inexperienced queen will have trouble defending her country. We must warn Jiandra and Solange.”

  Yavi was already turning his horse around. “Yes, brother. We should be able to reach Kingston at least two days before the Black Armies reach Caladia. Tejeshwar has guided us to be here at this moment to see this.” Yavi extended his hand to make a long-forgotten gesture they used to do when they were boys, whenever they agreed on some new reckless adventure to tackle together.

  Yajna saw it and smiled. He grasped his twin’s wrist as Yavi grasped his. They turned and crested the ridge again, their cloaks sailing out behind them as they galloped down the mountain path to return to Villeleia.

  #

  In Kingston, nobles were arriving from all over Villeleia to meet with the Royal Council of Advisors and Solange on the matter of the Nandals. The news of Sir Cassimere Barkley’s attempted treason had already reached the streets of Kingston, and the citizens were indignant over the threat to their popular young queen. Barkley was being held in the castle dungeon awaiting trial even as the nobles assembled in the Great Hall to discuss the matter of the Nandals.

  Solange rose from her throne. “Royal Council of Advisors, nobles, and other concerned citizens of Villeleia, I bid you welcome. Gentlemen, as you may have heard, I have ordered Villeleian forces to cease new arrests of Nandals. I have concerns about the mistreatment of the Nandals within our borders. Without fear of recrimination from myself or your peers, I would hear each man’s true thoughts on the matter of the Nandals. Specifically, shall we release the Nandal prisoners and allow them to return peaceably to their employment within our borders, or begin transporting them back to Nandala?”

  Her question was met with some grumbling, then the assembly hall erupted into bickering. She frowned, glancing around the room trying to make sense of the noisy confusion.

  “Silence!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. The assembly quieted down. “I cannot hear anyone if you are speaking all at once.”

  “Our apologies, Your Highness,” Sir Throgmorton offered, and they settled down to listen.

  Solange cleared her throat. “Very well. I shall call you by county to come forward and state your view. No decisions are to be made until we have all heard one another out. Are we agreed?”

  Several “ayes” were heard from various parts of the room.

  Solange took her seat. “County Rockrimmon. Lord Chesterfield will be heard.”

  “Your Highness, County Rockrimmon is in favor of sending the Nandals back to Nandala, except for the village of Red Reef, where most of our fishing trade depends upon their labor.”

  “Thank you, Lord Chesterfield. County Southwick. Lord Fairheim will be heard.”

  “County Southwick is divided, Your Majesty. Most of our villages would like the Nandal prisoners to be released and return to their labor; a few favor sending them to Nandala.”

  After discussion and debate, a preliminary vote was taken. It was 27-24 in favor of allowing the Nandals to be released, and to stay in Villeleia for the time being. Encouraged, Solange adjourned the assembly for the evening and retired to the living quarters to keep company with Gracie.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jiandra and Rafe rode south on Caladian Road and reached Frocklin Grove before nightfall. She glanced over her shoulder as they entered the village. “Rafe?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you tired?”

  “Yes, somewhat.”

  Her brow furrowed. He’d hardly spoken a word the entire journey, and didn’t seem like himself. He’s been through a terrible, traumatic ordeal, Jiandra, she chided herself. Of course he’s quiet and tired.

  “We’re going to stop at an inn.” She scanned ahead for the Pig and Partridge, guiding Tiber in that direction. “Are you hungry, dear boy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rafe, are you feeling all right? I mean, I know you aren’t ‘all right’ after going through such a frightening trial, but…do you feel sick, or are you in pain?”

  He didn’t respond for a moment. She glanced back at him again, worried.

  “I feel angry,” he said.

  Jiandra nodded and patted his arm, urging Tiber down the street, nearing the inn at last. They reserved a room for the night and sat down in the tavern to eat. Over supper, Jiandra watched Rafe with concern; he ate slowly, without saying a word.

  Suddenly he surprised her by asking, “Where’s the Omaja Stone? You aren’t wearing it.”

  “Oh—” Jiandra glanced down at her chest, not that she needed to look to remind herself the stone wasn’t there. She could feel its loss physically, like a great emptiness inside her chest. “I lost it.”

  Rafe held her gaze. “No, you didn’t.”

  “You remember what happened?”

  “You didn’t lose the stone. You gave it away. Who did you give it to?”

  Jiandra swallowed, blinking as tears stung her eyes. “Yes, I gave it away. To a…person who wanted it very badly.”

  He let the subject drop and resumed eating, for which Jiandra was grateful.

  #

  The twins pushed their horses as hard as they could through the night without exhausting them completely. By daybreak they saw Caladia in the distance and headed for their now-familiar campsite in the woods outside Caladia for a few hours’ rest. By noon, they had caught and roasted some fish, packed up the horses, and set off again. They drew their hoods low over their heads and galloped along Caladian Road, resolving not to stop for anyone who might happen to notice that they were fully armed Nandals.

  #

  Jiandra’s courier arrived at the castle in Kingston, and the queen was summoned at once. Accompanied by Cornwall and Nelson, Solange hurried to the foyer to greet the courier.

  He bowed low. “Your Majesty, Jiandra Stovy sends you an urgent message.”

  Solange took the rolled parchment from his hand, searching his face. “Is Jiandra well?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “When and where did you see her?”

  “At the Blue Boar in Caladia, Your Majesty, yesterday morning.”

  Solange unrolled the parchment and scanned it. She turned to Nelson. “Call Captain Hollweg to meet me in the study. I will be there in a few moments; I must speak to Gracie first. Cornwall, stay with me.”

  Nelson bowed and left, and Solange turned back to the courier. “I shall pay you to carry this message out to Stovy Farm for me and deliver it to Elio Stovy.”

  He bowed again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  #

  Jiandra traveled south on Caladian Road as speedily as possible, with only brief rests along the way. She was eager to see Solange, Elio, and Gracie, as well as get Rafe back to a familiar setting so that he might begin to act like his old self again.

  As nightfall approached, she realized there was no way they would
make it all the way to Kingston before midnight. They were still an hour north of Broomfield. She feared traveling at night outside city walls, since Gerynwid’s blackwolves could be lurking, or worse, Gerynwid herself. Without the Omaja, Jiandra would have no protection for herself and Rafe other than her leather armor and dagger, and that wouldn’t be sufficient. From Broomfield on, she would avoid stopping as best she could and push ahead with swift determination, she decided.

  #

  Yavi and Yajna stopped to water and rest the horses by a stream in the woods north of Broomfield.

  “I feel Jiandra close by, brother,” Yajna commented as he filled his cup from the stream.

  Yavi shook his head. “It’s your eagerness to see her again, that’s all.”

  “No, it isn’t. I sense she’s near. I know the difference.”

  Yavi fell silent; he had learned to avoid challenging Yajna when his voice had a certain tone.

  Yajna drained his cup, shook it out, and replaced it in his saddlebag. “Perhaps she is traveling to meet us. Perhaps the stone is leading her back to me.”

  “Brother,” Yavi sighed impatiently. “You know that I am ten times more given to romantic folly than you are, so I have little right to speak, but I must caution you to focus on our immediate purpose—warning Villeleia’s queen of the coming war.”

  Yajna grinned. “I’ll wager we cross paths with Jiandra before we reach Kingston.”

  Yavi vigorously shook the water out of his cup. “What have you to wager? Her horse? We’ve got no coin.”

  “The loser has to clean the other’s boots.”

  “No good. I keep mine spotless anyway. How about this: the winner gets to kill Thakur.”

  “No good. I can easily kill him with my arrows long before you can reach him with your swords, and I do not want to wait for your sluggish arse.” Yajna thought a moment more. “The loser must name his first son after the winner.”

  “Done.” Yavi grinned. “I was planning to name my first son Yajna anyway. But since you will be the loser, you will have an unruly little Yavi pestering you someday.”

  “How will that be different from now?”

  Yavi punched him in the shoulder, and Yajna yelped.

  They mounted their horses and set off again.

  #

  At nightfall, Gerynwid stood in her tower room, the Omaja stone dangling from a much longer chain she’d attached it to; it now reached down to her waist. The stone had darkened to almost black, its faint purple glow barely visible. With Ujagar’s voice clamoring loudly in her head, she raised her arms, said an incantation, and shapeshifted into the griffon vulture.

  The huge fowl soared out of an open window and flew south. Around midnight, she reached Cobbleton Wood southwest of Kingston, guided by Ujagar’s voice to the hidden waterfall covering the portal that he needed to cross. She lighted on the ground and shapeshifted into her human form, then approached the rushing waterfall to await further instruction.

  Quiet, do not speak. Drop the stone into the pool.

  Gerynwid hesitated, not liking the idea of relinquishing the stone.

  Drop the stone into the pool, now!

  Gerynwid tossed it into the basin of water. The water glowed bright red and began to swirl, then changed direction and swirled the other way. The waterfall stopped, and Ujagar’s gruesome, muscular form appeared there on the stone wall.

  He curled his massive fists and threw his head back to roar, “Zehuraster! Show yourself! Come and face me!”

  Gerynwid waited and watched, but there was only silence. Ujagar growled angrily, his face twisting into a fierce scowl. He pushed at an invisible wall in front of him, then whirled around, looking for his enemy.

  “Zehuraster, show yourself! You will release me to the physical realm or we shall kill the queen and Jiandra Stovy.”

  In the face of the rock, a black-cloaked figure leapt out from behind Ujagar and wrapped powerful forearms around his throat, jerking him backward. Ujagar struggled to maintain his balance. The other god was as tall and powerfully built as Ujagar, and looked as if he could almost overpower him.

  “Touch Jiandra and I won’t just restrain you; I’ll banish you!” the cloaked god snarled.

  Ujagar twisted his body around and shoved an elbow into Zehuraster’s abdomen. He then flexed his right hand, causing large talons to appear, and turned to swipe at Zehuraster with all his strength. Zehuraster leapt out of the way, and Ujagar pounced, knocking him off his feet. He managed to pin Zehuraster to the ground, his hands at his throat. Zehuraster struggled, dealt Ujagar a mighty blow to his jaw, then threw him off to the side and scrambled to his feet.

  Zehuraster’s eyes flashed angrily down at him. “You cannot defeat me, Ujagar. I will not release you to the human realm.”

  Ujagar leapt to his feet with catlike agility. A guttural, furious cry tore from his throat as he lunged for Zehuraster, talons first. Zehuraster leapt toward him at the same time, spun and deflected the talons with a roundhouse kick. As Ujagar tumbled to the side, Zehuraster drew a dagger from under his cloak and pressed the tip of it to Ujagar’s throat.

  “Don’t be a fool; you can’t best me,” Zehuraster grated through clenched teeth. “I will fight you for all of eternity before opening the portal.”

  Ujagar growled in frustration and shifted his gaze to Gerynwid, who stood tensely watching the scene. “Take the stone, handmaid. Kill the queen and the Stovy girl!”

  “No!” Zehuraster lunged for the portal, but it was too late. Gerynwid had already grasped the stone. She pulled it out of the pool, and the waterfall resumed its course.

  #

  Jiandra stopped at a branch of Silverthorne River to rest and water Tiber. She dismounted stiffly, helped Rafe down, and led Tiber to the river’s bank in the moonlight. She stretched her back, then stroked Tiber’s neck for several minutes, lost in her thoughts.

  Rafe whispered her name. “Jiandra!”

  Heart pounding, she dashed to where he stood, on the other side of Tiber. “What is it, Rafe?”

  “Someone is approaching.”

  “What? I don’t hear anything.”

  “They are coming very quickly on horseback.”

  Jiandra listened, but heard nothing. They were in hidden from the road, and it would be odd for someone to be coming off the road toward them at this hour, unless they were being followed. She glanced back at Rafe in confusion.

  A second later she heard it too. Hoofbeats approached quickly.

  How did he hear that? She drew her dagger and pulled Rafe behind her, bracing herself for a fight. “Zehu help us.”

  Two riders on horseback appeared. The front rider threw back his hood, a wide grin spread across his handsome face.

  “Yajna?” She sheathed her dagger as he jumped down from his saddle, and rushed toward him.

  He swept her up into his arms and buried his face against her neck. “My beautiful Jiandra…oh, it’s good to see you!”

  She planted kisses all over his face, hugging his neck as tightly as she could.

  He set her down as Yavi came closer. “Greetings, Mahitha.”

  “Hello, my friend. It is so good to see you both alive and well, but—why didn’t you go back to Nandala?”

  Yajna took her hand and held it. “We did reach Nandala’s border, and started our trek through the mountains. When we crested the last mountain range into Nandala, we saw our emperor’s best-equipped army marching south. They are marching on Villeleia.”

  “To…attack? For war?”

  “Yes.”

  Jiandra’s heart sank. “How long before they arrive?”

  Yavi answered. “They could reach Caladia in two days.”

  “Zehu help us!”

  Yajna placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Take courage, Jiandra. Yavi and I will help Villeleia fight against Thakur, and with the help of your magical stone—” He paused, his gaze dropping to Jiandra’s chest. “Where’s the Omaja?”

  Tears clogged her throat.
“I—I had to give it to Gerynwid.”

  Yavi stepped closer to see her bare neck. “What?”

  “She abducted Rafe and…I had to give her the stone to save his life.” Jiandra’s voice broke as she glanced over her shoulder at her brother, who stood listening quietly. “What’s done is done; I can’t change it now. But I must get back to Solange quickly. Gerynwid means to kill her herself!”

  “We’re coming with you,” Yajna said. “Let’s be off.”

  #

  Gerynwid’s griffon vulture form alighted on the northeastern turret of Castle Villeleia and peered down at the placid lake reflecting the moonlight. The Omaja stone glowed a blackish purple around her neck. She shook out her massive wings, her head twitching a moment before she transformed herself into a thin stream of black smoke. The murky mist trailed down over the side of the castle wall, flowing into an open window, carrying the stone along with it. A guard stood inside, watching through a window overlooking the grounds on the northern side of the castle.

  Gerynwid rose from the mist behind him, the stone pendant hanging down to her waist. Her face changed into that of a wicked-looking demon with razor-sharp fangs. He sensed movement behind him and turned just in time to see her gruesome mouth gape open, and the fangs sank deeply into his face before he could scream. Blood spattered over the stone wall, and Ujagar’s voice ordered her to eat of his flesh. Gerynwid crouched over the man’s twitching body to feast for a moment, blood streaking down her chin and chest. She hurried down the spiral staircase two flights to the door into the living quarters at the back of the castle.

  Two more guards were there, standing on either side of a wooden door blocking the hallway that led to the queen’s private quarters. Gerynwid raised her hand and shot a lightning bolt at the chest of the one on the right before he could draw his sword. The other guard lunged toward her with his blade outstretched, but she shapeshifted into a column of smoke that he sliced through uselessly, stumbling forward. He knocked over a wooden stand holding a bust of some ancient queen of Villeleia, and it shattered on the floor.

  Gerynwid changed into her human form and aimed her lightning bolt at the guard’s head, driving him back. She held it steadily on him until the man’s head was a smoldering, charred chunk of flesh atop his convulsing body on the stone floor. She grasped the handle of the wooden door they had been guarding, but it was locked. She shapeshifted into smoke and slithered under it.