Pawns (The Wielders of Arantha Book 1)

by Patrick Hodges

  With just over an hour before sunset, Maeve took the final turn of the day on the excavator as Davin carried two large canisters of water back from the lake. A more in-depth analysis revealed the lake was fed by a large underground spring, and while it contained no harmful microorganisms, it still had to be fed through the purifiers before they could safely drink it. This was essential, as the dry air provided little condensation.

  As soon as he got the purifiers going, he grabbed a handful of organic nutra-pellets from the canister on the work table and poured them into an aperture on the top of the synthesizer.

  Davin was perusing the synthesizer's list of possible dinner choices when the noise of the excavator's motor echoing up through the mouth of the tunnel abruptly ceased. A quick glance at the sun confirmed that twilight was just over an hour away. It had only been twenty minutes since Maeve had started her shift, so there was no way the dust compartments could be filled already.

  He grabbed a wrist-communicator from the work table and switched it on. “Mom, everything okay?”

  He waited a few seconds, but no reply came. “Mom?” he asked again.

  Still no answer. A sense of dread crept over him.

  He walked toward the tunnel, his stride becoming more urgent with each step. “Mom!” he shouted into the communicator, but there was still no answer.

  Breaking into a full sprint, he dashed into the cave, passing by a series of small portable lamps fastened to the cave walls at regular intervals. Taking care not to trip on any of the loose rocks that littered the cave floor, he maintained a quick pace until the tail-lights of the excavator loomed into view. The dust had settled, thankfully, and his heart rate jumped when he saw his mother sitting sideways on the driver's seat, her legs dangling out of the cab. She was holding her head in obvious pain.

  “Mom! Are you all right?” he said as he ran to her side.

  She looked up at him, and under the harsh glare of the excavator's lamps, he could see the stress on her face. “Dav?”

  “Yeah, it's me,” he said, kneeling down to get a closer look at her. “Why didn't you answer me?”

  She looked down at the communicator on her wrist, which was completely dark. She pushed a button on the side and tapped the screen with her finger. Nothing. “Must be malfunctioning. Sorry, Dav.” She moved her hand back to her temple, rubbing it gently.

  “Mom, are you hurt?” Davin asked.

  “It's nothing,” she said, waving him off. “Just a little headache.”

  She reached out her hand, which he took, and she got to her feet. Almost immediately, she doubled over, clutching at her head again, moaning in pain.

  Taking her shoulder, he helped her down until she was able to sit on the ground. “ 'Little headache', my arse. How long have you been in pain?”

  She looked at him wearily. Her crow's feet appeared to have sprouted talons. “It started a couple hours ago. At first it wasn't too bad, but it's been getting steadily worse ever since.” She let out a long, painful breath. “It feels like a Chethran wamzu is howling inside my brain.”

  “Yikes. We are having a shite day, aren't we?”

  “Don't start.”

  Davin looked up the tunnel, which sloped upward at a fifteen-degree angle. He imagined the sun creeping ever closer toward the horizon. “I think it's time we called it a day, Mom.”

  “No argument here.” Maeve reached her hand up to her son. He hauled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “Come on,” he said. “You need a good meal and a good night's sleep.”

  “Dav –”

  “No, Mom. You're not gonna do either of us any good if you drop dead from exhaustion.”

  “Fine,” she muttered, stumbling forward, using her free hand to brush a lock of hair, which had come free from its rather shabby ponytail, away from her eyes. “But I'm still taking night watch.”

  “Bloody hell, you are. You're hitting the sack right after dinner.” He gave a grim smile. “That's an order.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at the side of her mouth. “Um, pretty sure you're not my C.O., and you're damn sure not my father.”

  “No, but it's still my birthday, so I'm officially pulling rank.”

  She chuckled, despite the pain. “Don't think it works that way, but I'm in too much pain to argue. You're waking me at midnight to take over for you, and that is not negotiable. You got it?”

  “Got it, Mom,” he said, thankful when the last of the day's natural sunlight came into view.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I nside the small cave at the southern edge of the Ixtrayan Plateau which had housed the Stone for more than eight centuries, Kelia fought to maintain her patience as she relived the same, unhelpful vision she'd experienced every day since seeing the mysterious object in the night sky.

  In her mind, she was flying. No, not flying: gliding. Gliding across the desert floor, the distant Kaberian Mountains looming ever closer. As she neared the closest peaks, which stretched as far as the eye could see in both northerly and southerly directions, she heard something strange. She concentrated on this sound: a sound unlike any she'd ever heard before. It was like a thousand metal swords striking hard stone simultaneously, but with no interruptions or pauses in between strikes. Whatever secret the mountains held was something foreign to Elystra, which only solidified Kelia's belief that the mysterious visitors had come from the Above.

  With each consultation, her mental journey to the mountains seemed to bring her a little closer to revealing the source of the noise, to the nature of the visitors. Each time, though, the vision ended before she could get the answers she sought, and it frustrated her to no end. She briefly considered that Arantha was teasing her, goading her, but dismissed this notion.

  Today, she hoped, was the day she would finally know.

  The pounding, grinding noise increased in volume as, in her mind, Kelia reached the base of the mountains and soared upward, skimming the tops of the smaller peaks as she glided between the larger ones. Looking down, she beheld a lake just on the edge of her sight. Arantha seemed to be directing her there. She suddenly dove downward, heading straight for the lake, and she knew this was her final destination.

  One more peak to clear, and all would be revealed. The grinding noise was now at a fever pitch, and it sounded to Kelia like someone—-something—-was tearing the heart out of one of the mountains. She was concentrating so hard on the sound, she didn't realize her vision was breaking up until moments before it happened. The last image she saw was that of the lake, surrounded on three sides by walls of rock. A short distance from the water's edge on the southern side were several objects that at first glance appeared strange to her, but before she could focus on them, the image dissipated.

  As Kelia's mind rejoined her body, she became aware that she was holding the Stone so tightly, her knuckles were white. Short of breath and mildly disorientated, she released her grip, shaking her hands to rid herself of the pins-and-needles sensation.

  She groaned in frustration. So close. So … blagging … close.

  She stared at the Stone, embedded on top of a flat altar-shaped slab of rock that stood at waist-level along the far wall of the small cave. Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, she momentarily gave into her frustration. Several layers of dust coating the cave floor jumped and swirled around her, flying to and fro in a pattern of pure chaos that reflected her mindset.

  Why do you do this, Arantha? Why do you bring me so close to understanding your wishes, only to pull me back?

  The Ixtrayu are restless. They want answers only I can give them, and yet you tell me nothing. For thirteen years, you've tested our faith. With every breath I have taken as Protectress, I have tried to reinforce that faith. And in return, what have you given us? More tests, more questions, no answers.

  Is this our reward for centuries of devotion?

  Opening her eyes, Kelia realized she was in the middle of a dust-storm, somehow enc
apsulated within the cave in which she now sat. She retreated inside her mind again, calming her maelstrom of doubts. She made her breathing more regular, and her heart rate slowed to normal. When she opened her eyes again, she exhaled in relief. Most of the dust had settled, and only a thin haze remained.

  She climbed to her feet and dusted off her robes, taking a few extra moments to comport herself before leaving the cave. It would do no good for the tribe to see her in such a frantic state, assuming none of them had witnessed the miniature storm she just created. Her face blank, she strode out of the cave and into the midday sun.

  * * *

  Her throat dry, Kelia made her way to the cistern, where two vats of drinking water were available for the Ixtrayu to fill their water-skins.

  Kelia always made it part of her daily routine to lower the temperature of the drinking water for all. Whether the women she protected toiled in the fields or the orchards, whether they wove cloth or crafted objects from wood, whether they cooked or laundered or hunted or gathered, if providing them with cool water helped them quench their thirst, then it was a service she happily provided.

  Today felt like the hottest day of the dry season thus far, and a crowd of about twenty women eagerly filled their mugs and skins, bowing and smiling to Kelia before returning to their duties. She smiled back, momentarily forgetting her earlier frustration.

  Kelia strode along the path leading east from the village to a wide, flat area set up as an archery range. This was where huntresses and gatherers would practice their skills with a bow and arrow. She heard the sound of several arrows piercing their targets, bags of thick cloth stuffed with grass, as she approached.

  Only one Ixtrayu was training at this time: Vaxi. Kelia marveled as the girl fired three more huxa-wood arrows in rapid succession, striking the distant target in nearly the same spot every time. After the final shot, Vaxi realized she was being watched, and bowed her head. “Protectress,” she said.

  Kelia beamed as she closed the distance between them. “Runa's right; your prowess with a bow is phenomenal. It's like Arantha herself guides your aim.”

  “Thank you, Protectress.” Vaxi's eyes were still cast to the ground.

  Kelia had asked Nyla several days earlier if she knew what might be troubling the young huntress beyond her inability to go on Sojourn. Nyla said she suspected Vaxi might simply be lonely. At nearly eighteen years of age, Vaxi had fully blossomed into womanhood, and she was now at an age where choosing a possible companion might be foremost in her thoughts. Kelia could only wonder if Vaxi's troubles ran deeper than that, and she suspected the undue pressure being put upon her by Susarra was the cause of her fragile temperament.

  Kelia put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Vaxi, look at me.”

  Vaxi lifted her head, and for the first time, Kelia saw that one side of the girl's face was abnormally red. Kelia moved to touch Vaxi's cheek, but she just shied away, embarrassed.

  “Vaxi, what happened?”

  “It's nothing,” she said, turning away from her. She moved a few paces away, staring absently at her archery target and the collection of arrows sticking out of it.

  Kelia felt her anger rising. “Did your grandmother do this to you?”

  Vaxi didn't respond. Despite the heat, Kelia could swear she saw the girl tremble.

  “Vaxi, tell me what happened. And please be truthful.”

  She turned to face Kelia, a tear forming at the corner of her eye. “I failed her.”

  “How could you possibly have done that?”

  “I–I put myself right in the path of a charging kova. I killed the beast, but Runa was so angry with me. And Grandmother …” She sniffed, and the tear rolled down her cheek.

  Kelia recalled the day Ilora gave birth to Vaxi. It was such a beautiful time in their lives, and Susarra was as happy as Kelia that Ilora's first Sojourn produced such a perfect, healthy daughter. How things had changed since then.

  Overcome by memories, Kelia enfolded the young huntress in her arms. Vaxi returned the hug as her tears continued to flow.

  After Vaxi calmed herself and her breathing returned to normal, Kelia faced her, placing both palms on the girl's shoulders. “You are so much like your mother. I look at you, and it's like I'm looking at her.”

  A tiny smile appeared on Vaxi's face. “She loved you. So much.”

  “And I loved her. And I know …” Kelia caressed Vaxi's uninjured cheek, “… I know she would be so proud of you.”

  Vaxi tried to lower her head again, but Kelia put her fingers under the girl's chin, forcing her to keep eye contact. “I'm not so sure,” Vaxi said.

  “She would, Vaxi. There's no doubt in my mind. But you can't endanger yourself like that. It would not do anyone any good if you were hurt or killed. Not the tribe, not Arantha, and not me.”

  Vaxi just stared, continuing to blink away tears.

  “You're a skilled huntress, Vaxi,” Kelia continued. “I know it, Runa knows it, your sister huntresses know it. You don't need to prove yourself to anyone.”

  Her breath became shallow again. “But Grandmother –”

  As if on cue, the telltale thunk of Susarra's walking stick entered Kelia's ears. Kelia turned her head to see the portly Councilor approaching. As usual, she was not smiling.

  Before she could come within earshot, Kelia whispered to Vaxi, “Go get yourself some water. Midday meal will begin shortly, so once you've sated your thirst, head for the dining area. I'm sure Nyla and Sarja will be there waiting. They'll be serving a fresh batch of honey-bread, their favorite.”

  Kelia's heart warmed as Vaxi's smile widened. “Yes, Protectress. Thank you.” Snatching up her bow, she shot a glance at the target. “My arrows –”

  “I'll get them,” Kelia said. “You run along.”

  Vaxi nodded, and bounded down the path to the village. She gave her grandmother a wide berth, noticeably avoiding eye contact with Susarra as she ran past.

  Susarra moved to follow Vaxi, but Kelia stayed her with a commanding, “Stay, Susarra. I would like to speak with you.”

  Susarra didn't move, no doubt hoping Kelia would be the one to close the distance between them. When she did not, Susarra snorted and began walking.

  As she drew near, Kelia straightened her spine, giving Susarra a look of thinly veiled contempt.

  “How may I serve you, Protectress?” Susarra said.

  Kelia jabbed her finger at the archery target. “Take a look at that.”

  Susarra followed the direction of Kelia's finger, noting the tight cluster of arrows protruding from the cloth bag. “She is quite proficient, isn't she?”

  “Yes she is. I've rarely seen such accuracy.”

  “You are most kind, Protectress.”

  Kelia met Susarra's gaze. “So why is it Vaxi feels compelled to endanger herself for your benefit? And more importantly, why is it that she feels she's a failure?”

  Susarra didn't even blink. “Children should always be motivated to improve themselves.”

  “Yes, but at what cost?” Kelia's eyebrows knitted together.

  “Protectress?”

  “That girl has achieved more in her short life than most Ixtrayu. She's one of our best huntresses, she's loved and respected by the tribe, and yet, instead of rewarding her accomplishments, you diminish, belittle, and abuse her. And I will not stand for it.”

  Susarra's face reddened. “I am responsible for Vaxi's upbringing. This includes her education and her discipline. You ceded that responsibility to me after Ilora's death, did you not?”

  “I did,” Kelia replied through clenched teeth. “Had I known this would be the result, I would have spared you the burden.”

  Several beads of sweat appeared on Susarra's plump face. “But you did not. That child is my responsibility, and yours is –”

  Finally, Kelia's anger broke loose. “Do not speak to me of my responsibilities, Susarra! I am Protectress! It is my duty to protect those within the Ixtrayu, my family, our family, from
harm!”

  Susarra's glare was pure ice. “Like Ilora?”

  Had Kelia not trained her mind to maintain control over her abilities, she might have set Susarra on fire at that moment. Quelling a sudden buildup of power within her, she spat, “Don't you dare blame me for her death! What happened to her was a tragic accident! I loved her more than you could possibly know, and I would have given my life for her in a heartbeat!”

  Susarra shuffled her feet, leaning heavily on her walking stick.

  “I am sympathetic for your loss, Susarra. You have lost more than most. But you have made Vaxi the scapegoat for your grief and your bitterness, and that cannot continue. You call her a child, and yet you push her to produce one of her own.”

  “What are you going to do?” Susarra spluttered.

  “I am going to make it clear to Vaxi that her path, and her happiness, are hers to determine, not yours. She is of age, and not beholden to you anymore.”

  Susarra opened her mouth to protest, but Kelia held her hand up. “And before you challenge my wishes further, let me make it equally clear that your position as Councilor is as much mine to determine as it was my mother's. Don't force me to take that away from you as well.”

  Susarra averted her gaze and lumbered away. Her lungs heaving and her back turned, she finally muttered, “Yes, Protectress.” Then she picked up her pace, striding away as quickly as her crippled body would allow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  M izar entered his personal library to find Sen sitting at the long work table piled high with many unrolled scrolls, all pressed flat with expertly-placed weights. His head lay atop his crossed arms, his short, dark hair askew, and he was snoring and murmuring in his sleep. A thin, unbroken chain of drool connected his bottom lip to the sleeve of his beige tunic.

  After placing his burden of three bound tomes on the end of the table, Mizar crept over to the basin in the corner, filled a wooden mug with fresh water, and promptly poured it over his apprentice's head.