Queens of Tristaine

by Cate Culpepper

  Brenna figured it was just as well that she couldn’t see Jess at that moment.

  Kyla was entering the spray of water now, leading her dun mustang with small, efficient steps. Brenna swallowed hard when her turn came to pass through the wide spatter, and she gasped as the chilly drops hit her. Cold, yes, but no worse than Tristaine’s streams in winter. She blew out explosively to spit muddy water from her lips and tugged Hippo safely through after her.

  Even with her heightened blood pressure, Brenna felt a small thrill of pride as she looked up into her horse’s mild brown eyes. Tristaine’s herds were no strangers to rocky peaks, and Hippo was taking this treacherous trail like the mountain-born mustang she was.

  Brenna stepped on a flat slate of wet shale and her heel shot out from under her. She dropped hard and landed on her butt with an impact that snapped her jaws shut. Hippo snorted at the abrupt pull on her reins and pranced uneasily.

  “Brenna!” Jess’s shout whip-cracked against the rock wall.

  I’m not near the edge. Brenna’s left foot indeed dangled over the abrupt drop, but she was in no danger of falling. The first pain was so sharp she thought for an awful moment that she’d broken her coccyx, but then the spasm subsided to an almost bearable ache. “Don’t try to get to me,” she called breathlessly. “I’m fine.”

  She heard Hakan behind her, chanting soothingly to Hippo, who quieted readily. Brenna brushed her dripping hair out of her eyes and put a shaking hand to the wall.

  “Get up slowly, Bren.” Kyla was crouched against the cliff ahead of her, watching her anxiously. “I should have warned you about that patch of shale, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “N-no harm done.” Brenna gathered her feet under her and pushed up gingerly, wincing at the flare of pain in her hip. She couldn’t see Jess, but she could feel her anxiety coming at her in palpable waves. “I’m all right, Jesstin,” she called.

  Jess whistled in response, and they moved on.

  The rocky path was descending more noticeably now. Enough so that Jess risked a controlled slide of a few paces, banking her speed with the soles of her feet. She led Bracken through another brief downpour of reddish water. Dana was following her a little too closely, and she signaled her to lay back.

  Jess half-regretted insisting on taking the lead. Like Tristaine’s horses, Jess had been born to the high hills, and this precarious part of their trek held no great fear for her. But Brenna’s fall had jarred her. She hated having women and horses blocking her way to her wife.

  They were better than halfway across the pass. Jess’s mind began to move on to the next challenge, to making up the time they’d lost creeping along this damned ridge. At first she thought the low buzzing noise must have been coming from some winged insect, until it registered more clearly in her ears as a growl.

  Jess turned slowly, the pores of her skin opening, her senses narrowing to an intense focus. She recognized the source of the sound before she saw the tawny cat.

  She and Dyan had encountered cougars at a distance twice on their night hikes, both small females. This was a large male, better than eighty pounds. It stood on a wide ledge approximately twenty feet above Kyla’s head. The big cat was crouching, its long tail twitching in small arcs. Jess stepped closer to Bracken and unlaced her bow from his side pack.

  “Hey! Easy, boy!” Dana tried to curb her horse, who was back-stepping skittishly. Jess’s sisters hadn’t seen the cougar yet, but their horses were more than aware of its presence. Vicar’s roan unleashed a nervous whinny at the rear of the line.

  Jess sent out a low, reverberating whistle to warn her adanin. For a heartbeat, she held out hope that the cat would retreat. It wasn’t starving—well fed by summer game, its silver-gold cloak was sleek and layered with healthy muscle. But they had obviously passed very close to its holdings. The cougar dropped deftly to a lower ledge, closer to Kyla, and Jess knew they had no time.

  And she had no space. The bulk of Dana’s horse blocked her view of Kyla and Brenna, and she had no clear line to the cat. Jess whispered a prayer to her Mothers, measured the width of the path, and took two long running steps. She vaulted off the rock trail and over Bracken’s head, her feet landing solidly on the mustang’s broad back. Her horse started beneath her but quickly stilled, and Jess was able to stand erect.

  She took in everything in the scant seconds needed to notch the arrow and raise her bow. Dana looking up at her, her mouth agape. Brenna, lying flat on the rock, staring up at the cougar in fearful fascination. Vicar, stringing her own arrow. Hakan, calming her stallion as well as Brenna’s mount. And Kyla, trying to soothe her horse, her back to the cougar that crouched above and behind her.

  “Kyla, down!” Jess clenched her teeth and let fly. The obsidian-tipped arrow sizzled from her bow, split the air in a sharp arc, and punched solidly into the big cat’s chest. It convulsed on the ledge and emitted a high-pitched snarl. A moment later, Vicar’s arrow pierced its side. The cat staggered and fell from the ledge, narrowly missing Kyla’s head. It struck the edge of their trail and then dropped into empty space.

  It was too much for Kyla’s horse. It neighed shrilly and reared, its hooves flashing dangerously close to Kyla’s raised hands.

  “Kyla, get clear of her!” Hakan was struggling to get past Hippo to reach them.

  Jess saw one hoof clip Kyla’s shoulder. Brenna cried out, and Kyla teetered on the edge of the path, her arms pinwheeling wildly.

  She fell over the side.

  “No!” Dana screamed, giving voice to Jess’s horror.

  Even knowing Kyla was roped, that Brenna was flat on the ground and braced, Jess’s breath iced in her chest until she was able to convince herself that Kyla hadn’t just plummeted to the stone floor far below. The hemp cord arrested her fall, though her weight dragged Brenna a good two feet toward the edge before Hakan reached her and braced her. Jess saw Kyla clutch the rope and knock against the stone wall as her abrupt descent stopped short some fifteen feet below their trail.

  Jess set her foot on Bracken’s rump and jumped off his back, landing close to the cliff wall. Dana was fighting her way past her horse to get to Brenna, so recklessly Jess feared she might go over too. She followed her, moving carefully but fast, minding the rope between them didn’t snag.

  “We’re well set, Jesstin!” Hakan was half-draped over Brenna, her big hands gripping the rope. Brenna’s smaller ones were white-knuckled around the cord, but she looked up at Jess and nodded wordlessly, her eyes enormous.

  “Vicar!” Jess saw her cousin stilling their horses on the narrow stone shelf.

  “They’re steady, Jess,” Vicar called. “I’m on my way.”

  “Kyla, hang on!” Dana was lying on the rock, her head dangling over the edge of the trail. “Don’t move!”

  “Okay.” Kyla’s voice sounded high and faint.

  “Dana, you’re off rope.” Jess untied the knot around Dana’s waist with quick efficiency, her blood pounding in her ears. “Find an anchor and hold on.”

  Vicar reached them, muttering a low litany of curses. She stretched out on the ledge beside Dana. “Kyla, you hear me! Don’t you dare let go!”

  “Gee, thanks, Vic, okay,” Kyla snapped.

  Jess crouched at the edge of the drop and saw her, her red hair a splash of color against the tans and grays of the canyon wall. Kyla’s face was upturned, but her eyes were squeezed shut against the grit and small bits of gravel dislodged by her fall. She had managed to find a protruding stone wide enough to brace one foot. Her other boot dangled over empty air. The rope tethering her to the world had slid up under her armpits. If Jess didn’t get to her soon, Kyla risked hanging herself or dropping through the loop entirely.

  “You have me?” Jess barked.

  “Aye, Jess!” Vicar and Dana both held sections of Jess’s rope, ready to lower her over the ledge.

  Jess wound the cord around her wrist, pivoted, and stepped over the edge of the cliff. She risked one glance at Brenna, who still lay b
eneath Hakan, clenching Kyla’s rope. Brenna’s plea for her safety, and Jess’s answering reassurance, passed silently between them in that quick look.

  “Heads up, Ky.” Jess stepped down the wall carefully, letting Vicar and Dana ration out her line in even intervals. The cord bit into her back, and she heard small pebbles bouncing off the rock in her wake. A light gust of wind rocked her slightly.

  “Careful, Jess!” Kyla was trying for calm, but fear strained her voice. “You’re almost here.”

  Jess checked her line and covered the last few feet, coming down on Kyla’s left side. “Hold,” she called to Dana and Vicar, then squinted at Kyla and smiled. “Hello, little sister.”

  Kyla smiled back tremulously, but she had reached the end of her bravado. Her face was ashen, and she was gripping the rope bloodlessly. Her right leg was trembling, holding all of her weight.

  “We’ll do this.” Jess balanced carefully, and then slid her right arm beneath Kyla’s hips. “I’m going to lift you a bit.”

  “I’m s-scared to take my foot off.”

  “It’s all right, lass.” Jess was close beside her now. “I’ve got a good hold on you. Hakan and Brenna have your line, Dana and Vicar have me. We’ll go easy.”

  “Okay,” Kyla whispered.

  Jess winked at her, then tightened her left hand on the rope and slowly raised Kyla a few precious inches. Kyla gasped as her foot left the rock, but she managed not to flail and kept her upper body straight.

  “I’ve carried you on my shoulders a hundred times, adanin.” Jess let Kyla feel the solid brace of her arm beneath her. “You steady?”

  “Yeah. Better.” Kyla’s teeth were chattering.

  “Good. Keep your eyes on the rock in front of us. Take one hand off the rope, and pull the loop down around your waist.”

  Kyla made a whimpering sound, but she complied. The slack in the coil allowed her to arrange it more securely around her body.

  “They’ll pull us up in stages, Ky. Nice and slow.” Jess checked their stance, and then looked up to see Vicar peering grimly over the ledge. She whistled.

  “On three,” Vicar barked.

  Jess heard her count down, and then felt a strong tug on her rope, raising her several inches. She kept her right arm firmly under Kyla’s hips, and they moved smoothly upward together.

  “Let your feet touch the wall,” Jess coached quietly. “Look straight ahead. You’re doing well, lass.”

  “Thanks.” Kyla gasped as they rose another two feet, and she flicked Jess a glance. “Jesstin?”

  “Aye.”

  “You can butch me out any time. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  It wasn’t a long climb, but every inch of it was torturous. Jess whispered assurance to Dyan, promising her she wouldn’t fail, she wouldn’t let her blood-sister die.

  “We’re right here, Ky!” Dana leaned over the ledge and extended her hand, still a good three feet from Kyla’s head.

  “You’re not roped, you bloody fool!” Vicar snarled. “Keep well back! Again now, don’t jerk—one, two, three!”

  Kyla crested the edge first. Vicar reached down and snagged the cloth of her tunic, and she and Dana hauled her bodily over the lip of the ledge. A deep wave of relief swept Jess as Kyla’s weight left her shoulder, and she saw Hakan’s broad hand above her head. She grasped it, and felt herself hoisted as if she were light as a child. She scrambled up onto the trail, panting.

  Kyla lay back against Vicar, ghostly white, her eyes closed. She still gripped the slack hemp rope. Dana knelt next to her.

  “Dana, rope on.” Jess shook out her stiff fingers and tossed the end of her line to Dana, then felt Brenna’s cold touch on her forearm.

  “Well done, hotshot,” Brenna whispered and kissed Jess’s cheek. She was as pale as Kyla, but she stepped nimbly past Jess and knelt on the ledge beside her. She laid her hand gently on Kyla’s head. “Honey? Can you open your eyes?”

  “No,” Kyla muttered, opening them. She released a shaking sigh. “Sheesh.”

  “I know.” Brenna felt the back of Kyla’s head, and then her neck and shoulders. “Are you hurt, Ky?”

  “I don’t think so, I’m just shook.” Kyla shrugged, wincing. “My shoulder smarts a little.”

  Dana snatched her hand from Kyla’s shoulder as if she’d touched a hot iron. Jess noted that both Kyla and Brenna were regaining their color, but Dana’s features were still the shade of old linen.

  Brenna examined Kyla’s shoulder. “I can’t see it well here. Can you move your arm?”

  “Sure.” Kyla demonstrated feebly, then gaped at Dana. “Dana, did you see the size of that cat?”

  “Yeah.” Dana smiled sickly. “So, you’re okay?”

  “That was a fine shot, Jesstin.” Vicar was still seated on the stone, supporting Kyla. “You’re still a bloody second faster than me, damn your eyes.”

  “Your arrow hit true as well, Vic.” Hakan brushed rock dust off her palms, leaning against the cliff wall. “Dyan would smile on us all today.”

  Her old friend’s smile chased the last of the chill from Jess’s blood.

  “Hey, Jess? Come here, please.” Kyla sat up, looking calmer.

  Brenna rose, and Jess took her elbow as they exchanged places on the narrow shelf. Jess knelt beside Kyla, who looked at her silently for a moment.

  “Well, you saved my life again,” Kyla said. “Thank you, Jesstin. I’m going to bake you a big pie.”

  “You’re welcome, little sister. Blackberry apple.”

  Kyla kissed her soundly on the lips, and Jess grinned. “Think we’re ready to put the last of this pass behind us?”

  “Yeah, I’m game.” Kyla let Jess pull her carefully to her feet. Kyla craned past Jess to see Brenna. “Aren’t you amazed that neither of us threw up, Bren?”

  “I was just thinking that!” Brenna was taking in her line carefully. “Shann’s going to be so—”

  She was interrupted by the sound of Dana, still on her hands and knees, vomiting copiously into the canyon.

  Chapter Five

  Brenna found the ghostly hooting of a horned owl fitting music to mark the end of this nightmare-inducing day. In their urgency to reach the City, sleep was snatched in judiciously rationed hours, and she intended to wring every drop of peace she could from this brief respite.

  Kyla was already fading, curled on her side not far from Brenna. They hadn’t laid a fire yet, but the full moon cast enough light to reveal Vicar laying out a meal of dried meat and berries. Hakan was setting their horses to graze in a small grassy field this side of the trees.

  Brenna winced as her bruised hip protested, and she stretched out gingerly on the folded blanket Jess had spread on the sparse grass of their campsite. She could still see the moon, embodied as Selene in Amazon lore, kissing the tops of the trees before beginning her long, slow glide across the night sky. Brenna silently petitioned her to take her sweet time.

  Brenna examined the rope burn across her palm, longing for her journal the way she used to long for a drink, with the same fretful nostalgia. Carrying any written account of life in Tristaine would be pure folly if they were captured, but Brenna missed her nightly ritual, the scratch of her quill across the page in the peaceful cabin she shared with Jess.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Jess emerged from the trees, her tall figure silvered in moonlight, carrying an armload of dry kindling. Brenna sat up, deciding she craved her adonai’s touch more than food, sleep, her journal, or air in her lungs.

  “Grub’s about ready, Stumpy.” Vicar sucked two fingers noisily as Jess layered the wood in the firepit dug in the center of their circle. “We’ll have enough left over for a tasty stew.”

  “Your recipe, Bigfoot?” Jess gripped the small of her back and stretched, wincing, then smiled at Brenna. “Hope my lovely lady has packed strong colonics.”

  “Ah, this is just your runt of a horse, he’ll go down fine.” Vicar sprinkled an herb over the dried meat. “I’ll get our f
ire started. At least I’m still faster with a flint than you, cousin.”

  “Spark away, mate.” Jess lowered herself on one knee next to Brenna and kissed her lightly. “I’ll bring us water, Bren, then join you soon.”

  “Dana’s already gone to the spring.” Brenna patted the blanket beside her. “Sit down, Jesstin, rest your bones. This is me butching you out.”

  Jess offered another tired smile and settled stiffly onto the blanket beside her. They sat quietly for a moment, leaning into each other. It was possibly the first time in days neither of them had some urgent task to perform, and Brenna relished their shared stillness.

  Jess nodded at Kyla. “Ky’s shoulder?”

  “It’ll be tender for awhile, but she’s all right.” Brenna breathed in Jess’s familiar scent, marveling at the quiver of arousal that managed to sneak through her weariness. “She’s out like a light. Let’s let her sleep. We’ll feed her a Bracken sandwich before we mount up.”

  “What’s this?” Frowning, Jess took Brenna’s hand and turned her palm toward the light beginning to flicker from the campfire.

  “It took me a second to get the right grip up there.” Brenna shuddered, remembering the ghastly sight of Kyla teetering on the edge of the abyss. “It’s not bad, love.”

  “Bet it hurts, though.” Jess examined the thin burn the rope had left across the base of her palm, then turned and rummaged in Brenna’s pack. She drew out a serrated leaf of aloe and snapped it smartly in half, then squeezed a drop of its thick juice onto her callused finger.

  Brenna watched Jess smooth the cool unguent across the burn, her touch as tender and healing as Shann’s. “Speaking of the pass,” she said, “was it strictly necessary, Jesstin?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Shooting a raging cougar…while standing on top of a horse…on a mountain ledge less than four feet wide?”

  “I thought I looked great.” Jess’s mild brogue twirled the word. She blew softly on Brenna’s palm. “Keep this clean, now.”

  “Well, Kyla better bake me a pie too.” Brenna brushed woodchips off Jess’s lap. “Spiked with enough cannabis to make me forget watching you shimmy over the edge of a cliff.”