Mallorn sighed as he pulled Umber away from the village. He gave her a nod, a silent promise, and took off towards the Elmare Castle.
Kaliel dropped her arms at her sides, the weight of the tasks ahead pressing on her heavily. She dragged her feet across the sand and sunk into it. She felt the Shee peeking at her from their holes, her grief reflected in their eyes. She knew she should stop, but she feared they wouldn’t help until they knew the extent of her burdens, and the dangerous enemy she didn’t have the strength to face. She curled her arms around her chest, trying to hold herself together, and let her sobs echo throughout the village.
• • •
Krishani closed his eyes as the servant girl fitted the armor to his body. It was by no means a perfect fit; the chainmail underneath felt heavy and clammy against his skin. He frowned as she finished, and grabbed his helmet from her hands. He slammed it onto his head, and it didn’t fit properly either, a little too big, but he could see through it regardless. He trudged over to the assortment of ancient weapons in a pile on the floor and picked a sword. It was a dull blade. He threw it down and tried again, hoping to find something better. He curled his fingers around a sword closer to the bottom. It was nothing special, but had a hilt that comfortably fit his hand, and a blade that was long and straight. It had an inscription that was nearly worn off the blade, but he couldn’t read it.
Krishani nodded to the servant, this would do. He fell into the ranks lining up against the wall. They all looked scared. He was unsure what would happen. It was safe to assume the more experienced kinfolk would lead the battle. There were twelve of them that had returned from the Lands of Men, they would make up the cavalry. He had been so lost in Kaliel he barely noticed the castle gradually getting fuller by the day.
He had no idea what he might have to face. The fear that festered in his stomach created a pseudo sense of courage. He would fight with all the bravery he could muster. It was the least he could do for Kaliel. While he wanted to believe the Valtanyana would lose, Mallorn had been less than encouraging.
He closed his eyes as memories of countless nightmares flickered to the surface. This was no longer a dream. He couldn’t simply wake up and shake it off and hope it never came again. They had known the enemy was hunting Kaliel’s kind for moons. It seemed as though this battle was inevitable. If it hadn’t been his defiance, something else would have made Crestaos find her.
She was that impossible to ignore.
His heart sank as he realized that even if Avristar made it through, there would be more battles in the Lands of Men he would have to fight, and the prospect of Kaliel being with him was unclear.
He wasn’t ready to be the Ferryman. His training with Istar covered tournament-style sparring and defensive techniques, like blocking, shielding, protecting, and preventing. Nothing Istar taught him would aid him in battle, and this was the source of the fear that gripped him. Krishani watched while the others fell into ranks, lining up against the left side of the service hall. He closed his eyes as he awaited Istar’s command.
“Where is she?” someone said to him.
Krishani looked up. He hadn’t even bothered to see who was standing in the hallway with him, but his eyes focused on a feorn through the slits in the helmet. He scowled and looked away, not wanting to answer.
Pux rammed his hand into Krishani’s shoulder, apparently trying to shake him up. The feorn looked confused and a little crazy.
“Where is she?” Pux demanded, raising his voice.
“She went to speak with Avred.” Krishani dared a glance at the feorn, whose face had grown ashen. Pux stumbled backwards and stopped before he fell into a pile of swords.
“Why did she go there?” he asked, his voice floating through the air like a ghost. He steadied himself and looked around, but there was too much commotion to be concerned. Everyone was talking all at once.
Krishani didn’t like how Pux reacted to that. The Brotherhood in Amersil never mentioned Avred. It was a story he was unfamiliar with, but it wasn’t something he wanted to fight Mallorn about. He had to trust Kaliel knew what she was doing. “She’s trying to help us,” he spat back at the feorn. He clenched the sword tighter.
Pux neared him and fell against the stone wall. “I can’t believe you let her go to him.”
Krishani straightened. “I didn’t have a choice. Mallorn sent her.”
“Who’s Mallorn?” Pux asked, shaking his head. “Desaunius would never let her …” he trailed off into a coughing fit, and Krishani’s muscles coiled at the mention of Kaliel’s first mentor.
“Why wouldn’t he help?”
“Avred is dangerous,” Pux stuttered. The feorn doubled over and crouched to the floor.
Krishani followed even though, with the armor covering him, it was awkward and hard to do. Pux tried to curl himself into a ball. Krishani touched his shoulder and shook him.
“Why is Avred dangerous?” he shouted, but Pux trembled too much. He turned his head to the side and Krishani thought he saw the word form on his lips, no sound. Krishani stood abruptly. The word nestled in his mind caused more fear than the enemy that was threatening to destroy them.
Volcano.
He didn’t have time to react or even time to leave as he breathed deeply and fell against the wall. He caught the panicked feorn boy out of the corner of his eye. It appeared to happen slowly: the boy running through the hallway, the screaming, and the way everyone around him reacted to it. He couldn’t believe they had so little time to prepare. Half the kinfolk were barely armed; the other half still securing armor to their bodies.
The feorn was clear. “They’re coming!”
Adrenaline rushed through him. He pushed the word out of his mind. Pux was delirious and invalid; he didn’t need to listen to him. He watched as Istar and a group of men exited through the stables. He stepped out of line and walked towards the opening, peeking around the corner. Istar mounted Paladin, while the others mounted the remaining horses.
Before he had time to react, Istar commanded the others to charge. The crowded hallways organized themselves and emerged in the rolling hills behind the Elmare Castle. Pux had gotten lost in the mess of kinfolk. Krishani didn’t look back to find him.
It was impossible to fight from inside the castle, with no towers, no catapults, no cannons and, worst of all, no archers. They were stuck fighting a sword-and-shield battle against the enemy. Their only hope was that they were better endowed, and not outnumbered. It was possible; the lake forced them to come by boat, which meant they would come in successions.
Krishani followed the last of the kinfolk into the field. Istar and twelve others created a wall of horses while the rest of the kinfolk cowered behind them.
The sun abandoned them as night fell across the sky, stars shining in brilliant pinpricks of light. It was the longest night of the year, Winter Solstice. Cold winds whipped the land, but that was the coldest weather Avristar would allow. Snow had never fallen.
Istar called orders to the two hundred kinfolk gathered. Krishani was surprised by how many had come, but none of them were trained warriors. Maybe the ones perched on the horses were, but even their calm resolve seemed to be weakening. He craned his neck, agitated and restless, he knew the sooner he faced them, the sooner this would be over, and the sooner he could garner some sense of peace. The faint light of the stars glinted off the dark armor that covered the creatures, their skin as black as night. They reminded Krishani of the merfolk, without the fins. They scampered across the land in droves, emerging from the northeast corner of Avristar. “Hold!” Istar bellowed.
Krishani stiffened as he noticed the enemies searching the air for something. He smiled as he saw the wings of one of the gargoyles spread in the air, its claws taking one of the creatures across the field. It lifted the body and climbed into the sky. There was a whoosh as the creature crashed onto the field, dead.
More of them poured forth from the forest.
“Charge!” Istar called.
Fear welled up in Krishani’s chest, but his feet broke into a run as the others rushed towards the battlefield.
The creatures didn’t yield as they hit the wave of horses. They rushed past them and soon the field was interspersed with creatures, gargoyles and kinfolk.
Krishani raised his sword and wildly swung at first, not realizing how skilled they were at combat. He closed his eyes as he felt the sword connect with metal. He dropped his sword, the force startling him. Eyes open, he swerved out of the way as a gargoyle attacked the creature and picked up his sword again. The creatures were coming from every direction, injuring the kinfolk with ease.
He was glad Kaliel was somewhere else, even if Avred was a volcano. She wasn’t strong enough to face the Valtanyana.
Krishani held his ground, gripping the sword in his right hand. He waited until the creature was closer, its lips snarling and his mouth foaming. Nothing like the merfolk and everything like a monster. Krishani thrust forward, the blade sinking through metal. Through the helmet, the midnight-black eyes of the creature widened as it fell. Krishani froze as he waited for the wispy smoke to rise out of the body. There was nothing, and before he could think, he pulled the sword out and continued striking down the creatures around him.
• • •
Empty boats floated along the shores of the waters. They were deserted the moment the battle began. Slow waves rocked them back and forth, water sloshing against wooden hulls. Another boat gracefully glided through the still waters. It hit the grass and slid into the earth.
Crestaos stood at the bow, his hooded cloak hiding his face in shadow. His arms were crossed across his chest as he floated from the boat onto solid land. As he stepped on the ground, the grass turned to ash. He grinned as he breathed in the sweet air of Avristar. The saccharine taste of it was like victory to him. He noted the weathered path to Orlondir, marred by the battle between the creatures and the gargoyles. His senses told him she wasn’t there. He turned to the west, feeling her energy along a thin forest path leading into Nandaro. Crestaos smirked as he slithered through the forest, the trees rotting from the inside out as he passed.
* * *
31-Winter Solstice
They were unnaturally calm as Kaliel’s chest heaved in desperation. Grains of sand stuck to her knees as her fingers curled around bits of damp sand, bringing it to the surface. She ran her hands along the dry grains on top and her sobbing ceased for a moment. All that remained was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
The Shee huddled near the edge of the beach, concealing themselves behind broad leaves. Her vision blurred as she gazed out at the glade. If it were more than three feet deep she would have poured herself into its depths, an attempt to calm her battered soul. The Shee were alarmed. She felt their response to her crushing sense of devastation, and their reluctance to help made her feel hopeless. She let out a deep breath and hung her head.
“Ahdunie,” someone whispered.
Kaliel looked up, her eyes darting around the village. A small woman merely twelve inches tall shrouded in a silver silk cloth and shimmering silver wings moved towards her. It was the Kiirar of the Shee. She let out a breath and her body slumped into the sand.
“Please,” Kaliel whispered. Her thoughts carried the extent of her request. She knew the elder Kiirar understood.
The ancient woman touched her arm and a buzz of energy rushed through her. “Nay child,” she said. Her voice rang out like chimes, the words echoing in the air.
Kaliel shuddered. “Please, I need to awaken Avred.” There was a gasp that moved through the forest like a gust of wind. Her stomach curled in knots.
“We will not honor your request.”
Kaliel gaped at her. “Why not?”
“The volcano is dangerous.” The woman moved to the sand and placed her tiny feet in it. They created miniature footsteps as she walked to the bushes where the others gathered.
“What about the battle?” Kaliel tried to control herself, but the emotions festering within her threatened to overload her body. She needed to change the outcome she had caused. She needed to stop the foe.
“Let the Gatekeeper take care of it,” the woman said as she passed into the forest.
Kaliel felt sick. She couldn’t speak with the Gatekeeper; she knew its answer would hurt her more than she could bear—exile. Since Krishani betrayed Avristar, she couldn’t ask the land for help. Aguish built up, a slow ache that burned from the inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut as the woman walked away, her mind a haze of disorientation.
There were footsteps on the ground far away, a rumbling sensation moving through the land.
The battle had begun.
She clenched her fist, nervous. Krishani was in the middle of it.
Please stay alive, she thought.
The rolling hills of Orlondir stretched on without end. In her mind she was taking careful steps across the grass, rising and falling with the folds of the land. Her ivory dress fluttered in the wind, her hair whipped around her, covering her face in strands of white. She clasped her hands together and held them at her chest, her heart sputtering unevenly. She trembled as she found the rise of a hill and saw all the terrible things she had caused stretched before her. The clanging of swords against shields, the battle cries, the fallen bodies. She yelped and drew her arms closer to her chest, her eyes frantically searching the shapes of the kinfolk for Krishani.
Spotting him in the distance, she watched as he swung away from one of the black-skinned creatures and glanced briefly into the hills, his eyes wide with terror. She cringed as another one tackled him from behind and he hastily jabbed his sword into the creature’s side.
A gurgle erupted from her throat as she choked on her tears. The vision was like her dreams, vivid and real, as though she was really standing on the hill watching it all. Nothing but grief poured through her. She had to convince the Kiirar to let her awaken Avred. There had to be something she could do to help. All of them were fighting for her. She recognized the kinfolk from Evennses. Even Pux was fighting.
When she opened her eyes she was laying on the sand at the edge of the lagoon. Nothing but quiet, crickets creaking, water lapping up against the shore. She watched a lily pad float across the surface, beautiful, benign. It was the last wisps of life, fleeting, fragile, nonexistent. She furrowed her brow in frustration and squeezed her eyes shut, the battlefield coming into view again, her astral form planted at the top of the hill.
She found Krishani in the midst of the fray, and she watched him fight. Even when her heart felt like it was going to explode, even when screams pierced the air, even when tears made her vision blurry. She watched because she couldn’t help them, because she couldn’t face what they were facing.
She flushed with heat as the Daed swept across the battlefield, their long flowing cloaks flapping in the wind. She recognized them. Flashes of the flames rolling across one of them crossed her mind. She pushed it away along with the rosy pink eyes of the Flame that was trapped in a little orb, a prisoner to the Valtanyana. As she watched, six of them surround the battlefield, intense apprehension filled her. One of them pulled out a thin blade and stalked towards Krishani.
“Krishani!” she yelped. Her eyes flew open. The wind rippled across the lagoon and rustled her hair. She braced herself, palms against the sand, heaving in and out, the revelation hitting her with full force.
“He’ll die,” she whispered, her voice hollow.
She glanced at the bushes, hoping the Shee knew what they were putting her through, hoping they heard what she said.
“He will die!” she screamed at them, her tone sharp, cutting.
The bushes rustled and the Kiirar emerged, the little woman keeping her distance as she hung at the edge of the beach. Her silver eyes bore into Kaliel’s. “One death does not mean all will perish.”
Kaliel growled. She had never heard anything more primitive erupt from her lips, but it escaped from her mouth in a giant roar. She
wanted to tackle the Kiirar and force her to give up the secret to awakening Avred. She wanted to rip the trees from their roots and destroy the homes of the Shee. She had never been so angry in all her life. The Flame flooded to the surface, her aura erupting in a shower of amethyst flames that flared off her body like the sun. She felt a pseudo sense of strength and saw her reflection in the lagoon, her eyes a piercing violet.
“Wretched Kiirar!” she spat.
The Shee withdrew to their homes, cowering from the grandeur of her presence.
Kaliel pushed herself up and rested on her knees. She gazed at the water, trying to pull together the pieces of her heart. If she didn’t awaken Avred, the enemy that craved to possess her would find her and take her, and everything would be lost. She felt sick at the thought of being his pawn.
“Ro tulten lye,” she said quietly into the night. Unsure if the Kiirar heard it, she wanted them to understand her pain. Nothing happened. The night remained quiet. She sat there staring at the lagoon, waiting for Krishani to die. Her stomach dropped. Her body slumped as she hung her head and let the blackness engulf her.
• • •
Krishani was no expert with the enemy. He simply moved when he felt the need to move and thrust his sword when he had a good opportunity. The defensive training finally began to make sense. He could feel the creatures near him and knew when to dodge, duck, lunge and block. It was like a dance, and the more creatures that fell, the better he began to feel.
He closed his eyes and twisted around, his sword piercing the body of another one behind him. He pulled it out and then raised it straight above his head and thrust it into the back of one that was smothering a fallen comrade. Krishani kicked it in the side. His heart lunged as he looked at the face of the kinfolk. It was one of the brothers from Amersil. As hard as they were fighting, the creatures were stronger.
Vertigo set in as he gazed across the battlefield. More were coming from the northeast. The ground was already covered with bodies. He glanced down. Not only were the bodies of the enemy strewn around him, but the bodies of the kinfolk lay beside them. Wispy smoke rose from the kinfolks’ bodies and twisted into the sky. Their numbers were dwindling; it would be dumb luck if they won. His eyes found the cavalry and his heart sunk. Only six of them were left.
Surrender Page 27
