by K. A. Linde
“What are you doing here?” Avoca demanded.
At her question, the man slowly turned around. He was as equally beautiful as Avoca and the healer. His face was roguishly handsome with impossibly high cheekbones, light hair, and eyes a vivid shade of gold. He wore the same type of green camouflage clothes as Avoca, but his looked brand-new.
“Hello, Ava,” he said with a toothy grin.
Her eyes turned steely. “Ceis’f.”
“I’m here to bear witness, of course.”
Avoca ground her teeth together and tilted her head to the side. She looked like she would rather be dropped back into the woods with those monsters than standing before him.
“Witness to what?” Cyrene whispered.
Avoca sighed. “My unequivocal failure.”
She was getting answers, but they were no more of use to her than Avoca’s silence.
Ceis’f’s eyes passed right over Cyrene, as if she didn’t exist, before he turned back to the door. It opened a second later, and another man beckoned them into the inner chamber. The room was twice as large as the one they had just been in.
A small woman sat on a wooden throne at the front of the room. On her left, two other people sat at a table, speaking in hushed tones.
Their queen was beautiful and ageless with sweeping long blonde hair so fair that it was almost white with the lightest blue eyes. She wore a simple gown with no adornment, but she did not need it. The only embellishment was a crown of flowers atop her head.
When Cyrene met her eyes, she glimpsed nothing but wisdom and sharp intelligence.
“Avoca,” the Queen said.
Avoca stepped forward and touched her hand to her lips. The Queen repeated the action, and Cyrene filed it away as some kind of greeting of their people.
“Queen Shira,” Avoca murmured.
“Report.”
“She’s to report in front of it?” Ceis’f said.
“Are you questioning me, Ceis’f?”
“No. I was just unaware that we would be so freely opening our gates to their kind,” he spat out.
“Now, you are aware,” she said.
Her tone never changed from its neutral state, but Cyrene could feel the tension rolling off of Ceis’f. She was glad the Queen had put him in his place. Even if Cyrene had no idea where she was, at least no one else had called her an it.
“I responded to the Indres presence in the area with my team. We knew immediately that there were too many for a six team. Ceis’f came with backup. We attacked simultaneously. They were surrounding three humans—two girls and a boy. Our teams slaughtered close to forty Indres,” Avoca told her.
Cyrene gasped. Indres! More creatures of myth had stood true before her eyes. Death wolves, they were sometimes called. Too scary, even for younger children, to hear the stories.
The Queen’s eyebrows rose at the number. Her eyes flickered to Ceis’f for confirmation, and he nodded gravely.
“One was getting away, so I followed it to finish the job. I walked into an ambush and nearly died. The human called the Indres off, nearly burning herself out, and then collapsed. Every Indres in the area lay dead.”
Burned myself out? Is that what happened? And how does Avoca know that?
“How many died from the teams?” the Queen asked.
Avoca winced. “Four of mine and two of Ceis’f’s.”
“A whole team.” The Queen seemed to consider that for a minute, and then her eyes turned to Cyrene. “Child.”
Cyrene swallowed and then stepped forward. She had so many questions. But, for once, she held her tongue. She did not want to anger these people who could take on over forty Indres.
“What are you?” the Queen asked.
“My name is Cyrene Strohm.”
The Queen thoughtfully tilted her head. “My healer said you used the word Doma.”
Cyrene’s hands sweat at the statement. The Queen knew. Without a doubt.
Cyrene had used magic in that clearing. In fact, she was sure it had almost killed her. In part, that was why she had needed their healer. But how could they have someone to heal her like that? How could they know about Indres? How could they know about magic?
“Yes,” Cyrene finally responded.
“And you used Doma power to destroy the Indres?” She didn’t wait for Cyrene to confirm. “Where did you learn it?”
“I…I didn’t. I don’t know what I did.”
“Untrained?” the Queen asked with a sigh.
Cyrene nodded slowly.
She was untrained. That was the whole point in leaving Byern. The traveling merchant Basille Selby had told her she needed to go to Eleysia to learn from Matilde and Vera, and that had been confirmed for her in her vision of Serafina. She didn’t understand how they could be alive two thousand years later, but they were her only hope.
“I’ve never seen anyone hold so much power,” Avoca interjected. “Even as she was burning herself out, she was still collecting more.”
“You were half-dead, Ava,” Ceis’f responded. “How do you even know that you actually saw this human use Doma power?”
“I know what I saw, Ceis’f! Believe in those whose honor doth shine. That was the Doma motto after all, and she looked like the sun before she released her powers and wiped out the Indres.”
Cyrene’s head was spinning. Those words, that motto, had gotten her out of a lot of bad situations in the last couple of months. She couldn’t believe the words were related to the Doma. Not to mention, she was having a conversation about her magic with complete strangers, as if it were normal.
“Enough!” the Queen commanded. “You two will remain silent while I speak with the Doma.”
“You truly believe her to be a Doma?” Ceis’f asked with a barely concealed scoff.
Queen Shira narrowed her eyes, and Ceis’f quickly closed his mouth.
“I believe she is Doma, yes. Not because I have seen her use her abilities, though I have no reason to doubt Avoca’s story, but because of this.”
Then, she slowly retrieved something from her side and held out Cyrene’s book for all to see.
Cyrene gasped. “That is mine!”
“I’m quite aware. It was found when we searched your things.”
“How dare you!” Cyrene snapped. “That is personal and classified.”
The Queen gave her a wry smile. “And you can read its text?”
Cyrene opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. “Can you?”
“Only magical users have the ability to see the written text,” the Queen said with a nod. “Anyone who attempted to read the book who had not passed a magical test would lose time—hours, days, years—due to the spell written into the text. A precaution to keep those who should not have access to the text from accessing it.”
Cyrene tried not to show her surprise. That exact thing had happened to her when she first tried to read it.
“Are you actually saying, that book is the lost Book of the Doma?” Avoca asked in awe.
“Yes,” she stately simply. “And you can read it, can’t you?”
Cyrene nodded slowly. “But what exactly is the lost Book of the Doma?”
“A precious historical artifact of the Doma reign. Very few books chronicled their magical prowess, and this is one of them.”
“The Circadian Prophecy stated that it would reappear with the Doma,” Avoca said.
“Yes. If we have read it as intended, the lost Book of the Doma would be given to a new Doma, and so would begin the Rise of the Children of the Dawn.”
“Rise?” Ceis’f snorted. “Even if this girl is a Doma, there is still only one. That isn’t a rise.”
The Queen smiled. “We will see.”
Cyrene’s head was spinning. The lost Book of the Doma. Circadian Prophecy. The Rise of the Children of the Dawn. She had thought, when she found out what the book meant, it would lead to answers…not more questions.
“Are Doma called the Children of the Dawn?” Cyrene aske
d.
That was the name that Basille Selby had used with her all those months ago. She had known even then that the man knew more than he let on.
“Yes, child. You know so little of your own people,” the Queen said with a sad sigh. “I believe, at this time, it is best if the Doma remains in Eldora. We have to determine what our part is in the Rise of the Children of the Dawn. And, until she can protect herself, she is a danger to everyone she encounters.”
“What?” Cyrene cried at the same time as Ceis’f said, “Never!”
“We cannot allow any individual to leave who could level a city without a way to control the current.”
“What about my friends?” Cyrene asked. “I don’t even know where I am or who you are or what you want with me, but they were out there with me last night. I cannot stay here while they are still alive.”
“Friends?” the Queen asked Avoca.
“Captured by human soldiers and taken to Strat.”
Cyrene’s world tilted. “No.”
“Are they Doma?” Queen Shira asked.
“No,” she breathed. “They were to go with me on my mission. I must save them.”
“Let her go,” Ceis’f said. “We shouldn’t have scum in our sacred halls.”
“She saved my life!” Avoca protested.
“To your greatest shame, Ava.”
“Enough!” Queen Shira cried, raising her voice for the first time. “You two are acting no better than children. Would you like me to strip you of your teams and return you to child status?”
Avoca and Ceis’f stood stiffly. Their shoulders were set back, and they shifted uncomfortably, back and forth, from one foot to the other. Cyrene wondered if they knew how similarly they acted in that moment.
“What is your mission, child?” Queen Shira asked her.
Cyrene ground her teeth together. “It’s classified but of the utmost importance. I will stop at nothing to achieve it.”
“I see. Does it have something to do with this?” She raised the book again.
Cyrene straightened herself up and nodded once. “Yes.”
The Queen tapped her lips as she considered Cyrene. “I’m sorry. I can only grant you visitation rights. Avoca, you are to remain as her guide until I can decide on how to proceed.”
“But I must find my friends!” Cyrene interjected.
“You are a danger to yourself as much as the rest of the world. We wouldn’t let a newborn walk out of the nest. You may not leave the city until I say otherwise. Be gracious,” she said lowly, “that I am permitting you this much.”
“This way.” Avoca grabbed Cyrene by her arm and hauled her out of the Queen’s chamber. Ceis’f followed behind them, and Avoca threw him a derisive look over her shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Cyrene’s mind was whirring with all the new information, but she still had so much more that she didn’t understand. “Will you answer my questions now?”
“Go ahead,” Ceis’f said as he passed. “Ava wants to tell her new pet about our people and bring destruction down on us all. Makes perfect sense.”
Avoca faced him. “I’m sorry about the teams. I would never have gone in there with two six teams if I’d realized how many Indres there were. But every death isn’t your parents.”
“That’s enough!” Ceis’f’s eyes narrowed, and a wall seemed to shift in between them as he shut down. “Enjoy your pet.” He stalked off, all broody and melancholy.
“He’s pleasant,” Cyrene said dryly.
“Come on.” Avoca pushed forward.
When Cyrene exited the chamber, she noticed that the music had increased in volume, and voices were mixed with the instruments. People were dancing and twirling, unlike anything she had ever seen.
She had been to many dances in the Byern court that King Edric had thrown and even more during her childhood. Dancing was structured with specific steps that she’d had to perfect to get the fluidity of the movement. She had a natural knack for it.
But this dancing was nothing like that.
It was a fast-paced, joyous affair. People stomped and clapped and cheered along with the movements. Men and women danced with their bodies pressed together as they quick-stepped across the hard-packed ground. It was sensational and made her breathless just from watching it.
“Are you coming?” Avoca asked.
“What’s going on?”
“The Harvest Moon Festival.”
Cyrene looked up through the thick tree canopy and saw nothing but sunlight. “It lasts all day?”
“And all night, as the harvest moon presents itself as a blessing. Are these really the questions you want answered?” Avoca asked. She stood with her feet spaced apart and her arms crossed. She was clearly not happy to be working as an escort.
“No,” Cyrene said. She took one last glance at the dancing and followed Avoca.
A few minutes later, they stopped in front of a door.
“What’s this?”
The room she’d been in before only had a cloth to cover the entranceway.
“The visitor’s living quarters, of course. You didn’t think that you would be kept in the infirmary, did you?”
Cyrene hadn’t even known that she had been in the infirmary. It certainly hadn’t looked like the ones at home, which were blank sterile rooms full of medicinal tools, herbs, and treatments.
When Avoca realized Cyrene wasn’t going to respond, she opened the door.
For visitor’s quarters, the room was immaculate with the same curved wooden walls and hanging jars of light. A plush rug covered the floor, and the most impressively carved furniture took up the space. A giant bed with climbing vines cut into the frame was set against one wall, and a writing table sat across from it with fresh parchment and ink. The common area had a small dining table with flowers bursting from a vase.
“We weren’t sure you would be staying, and we didn’t have much time to arrange things for you, so we did what we could. A bath is being drawn in the adjacent room,” Avoca told her. “We don’t have many visitors.”
“It’s…it’s wonderful,” she admitted.
And it truly was. They had delicacies a plenty at home, but this place seemed special…magical. Not to mention, she had been on the road for weeks, and a proper bath had been nearly impossible.
“All right then,” Avoca said as she turned to leave.
“You’re not leaving me here, are you?” Cyrene asked frantically.
“I have things to do,” she grumbled.
“I’m sorry about your team.” Cyrene’s voice was soft. She was in a different world without a way to escape and with people who knew about her magic. She needed a friend.
“Me, too,” Avoca whispered. She paused and then sighed, as if resigned. “Thank you for saving me.”
Cyrene cleared her throat. “You’re welcome. Though I’m not sure what I did.”
“I was bitten, and you called the Indres off me.”
“But…how?”
“I’m not certain I understand your question.”
“I just found out that I could…do this. Magic doesn’t exist back home!”
Avoca laughed, actually laughed at her. Cyrene narrowed her eyes and waited for her to stop.
“You really do know nothing,” she said when she seemed to realize Cyrene was serious. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You must have just manifested.”
“I…what?” Cyrene asked.
“Manifested. Produced your abilities. If they don’t come in by seventeen, then you’ll never have them. Were you ever good at anything when you were growing up, particularly related to the elements? Anything with earth, water, wind, or fire?”
Cyrene considered the question and tried to think of where she performed well. “Like gardening?”
“Sure. Plant life listens to the call of your energies. Earth magic in particular.”
The night of her Presenting ceremony came to her mind. What
had I said to King Edric that day?
“My sister says I can predict the weather.”
“Can…can people predict or alter the weather?” Cyrene asked.
Avoca stared at her. “Not in two millennia.”
“Oh.”
“Some minor changes can be made, usually with powerful water or air wielders, but weather is complicated, and much of our…your population was decimated in the War of the Light.”
“The War of the…what?”
“The War of the Light,” Avoca repeated, not giving Cyrene any further guidance. Avoca nodded to herself. “As it is the Harvest Moon Festival today, I have many things to prepare for, and now, I must take care of my fallen men. Stay here and get dressed. I will return to escort you to the festival as a guest, and we can discuss all of these questions at a later time.”
Cyrene sighed in relief. “Thank you, Avoca. But who are your people, and why have I never heard of you?”
A true smile broke out on Avoca’s face. “You have heard of us. Your world knows us only as Leifs.”
She shook her head and laughed. “You’re joking. Leifs don’t exist. They’re a fairy tale you sing to little children to warn them of the danger of the woods.”
Avoca arched one eyebrow and then strode to the door. “And where do you think you are, Doma?”
The door closed behind her with a jarring bang, and fear crept through Cyrene’s body.
Is every story true? Am I standing in the middle of a nightmare?
Leif, Leif, Leif Thief.
Don’t get caught by a Leif Thief.
You must go in.
You can’t come out.
Da-da, da, da-da, da, da.
The nursery rhyme played over and over in Cyrene’s head as she stripped out of the Leif outfit, dipped fully into the heated bath, and waited for Avoca to return.
Leifs were real. She couldn’t believe it. When she thought about Leifs she envisioned spritely creatures with glittery faces and pointed ears, who snatched children out of their beds at night. Instead, she was met with forest dwelling warriors. It seemed utterly impossible. But then again, she had thought Braj and Indres were made up, and she had encountered them, too.
