She closed her eyes, trying to convey what she felt. Maybe since he could read her mind he would feel it, too, and would understand. Along with her body gliding through the cool waters, she showed him the images she saw on the parchment, the headdress of the Ferryman and the Flame, the chalice she held in her hand. She was desperate to prove to him they were meant to be together, that somewhere in their past they had already been together. Oddly, Mallorn was from the First Era, so why didn’t he know they had been together before?
Mallorn sunk to the grass. Kaliel knelt down in front of him and stopped projecting her thoughts. She pulled her hands away from his and watched as his memories came back to him. She followed along as fuzzy images of the past whipped by her, a kind of large scroll rushing past that only she could see. Mallorn was stunned. Kaliel hung her head as she let the weight of the revelation hit her. The Valtanyana wreaked havoc in the First Era; they almost destroyed everything that was good about the lands. They were relentless and unstoppable. Her confidence began fading. She kept her eyes locked to his, but the nausea increased and she filled with an equal amount of fear.
Mallorn wiped his eyes and broke out of the reverie. “What happened last night?”
Kaliel dropped his hand and stepped away. She felt Krishani’s hand on her shoulder. He was only trying to protect her, but he hadn’t seen what she had seen. He didn’t know what she knew.
Mallorn slowly rose to his feet. “What happened?”
“I awakened,” she whispered. The rest was self-explanatory. She hoped.
Krishani cleared his throat. “She’s everything to me.”
Mallorn glared at him and turned his attention back to Kaliel.
“Don’t you see what you’ve caused? Crestaos won’t stop until every last living creature on Avristar is dead!” He closed his eyes and reached for her hand, but she wouldn’t budge.
The words slowly sank into her bones, forcing every part of her to shake. There was nothing worse than that, if indeed it came to pass. She had seen it in Mallorn’s memories. She knew it from the way the foe had stared at her in her dreams, the way he took the other Flames like he was plucking flowers from a field. It was enough to make her faint. She felt the warmth of Krishani’s arms around her shoulders, but she pushed him away. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to fight the vertigo. She sunk to the ground and hugged her knees to her body as she rocked back and forth. “All he wants is me.”
Krishani knelt beside her. He kissed her ear. “I’ll die before he has that chance.”
“Don’t say that,” Kaliel said.
“Avristar is so unprepared,” Mallorn stated. He sighed and turned to the forest. Even the trees seemed fearful.
“How do we stop this?” Krishani asked. He came towards Mallorn.
Mallorn met his gaze. “Stop Crestaos?” He blinked. “I don’t even know how he was stopped the first time.”
Kaliel coughed. She stopped rocking back and forth. A calm came over her. She reached for Krishani and let him help her up. She was contemplating the same things Mallorn was, hearing his thoughts in the back of her mind. His thought process was incoherent, but clear enough she could pick out details here and there and compare them to stories Desaunius had told her as a child.
There was one story that came readily to mind. It was about Avred, another voice of the land. Her stomach curled in knots as her thoughts were interrupted by the vision of the foe carrying her listless body through the trees, to the boats. She never knew that would—or even could—be the alternative: if Krishani didn’t go, she would be taken. She tried not to let guilt overcome her, but it was already there, nestling itself against her heart. She had been so selfish, allowing herself to feel something for him when it was obvious it would always come to this. She lost the train of thought with Mallorn, but she glanced at him and he gave a slight nod of his head.
“Awaken Avred,” she said. Desaunius told her once about a time when Avristar fought against the Valtanyana, a time when Avristar wasn’t the only voice of the land. When she saw Mallorn’s mangled expression she knew she had it right. His expression was a cross of wonder and anguish, as though Avred was ominous all on his own.
He nodded slowly. “Aye,” he whispered. “Aye, we can ask.”
She closed her eyes and entwined her fingers through Krishani’s. There was only one other way to make it right, and it was the one thing she never wanted to do. “You can’t come with me,” she told Krishani. “You have to go to the Lands of Men.” She shook, her body unable to take the onslaught of grief that tore at every part of her.
“No! I won’t leave your side,” he said. His eyes pleaded with her as he repositioned himself on the grass. He tried to pull her to his chest, but she pushed him away and gave him a cold stare.
“There is only one way,” Mallorn said, firm.
Kaliel glanced at him, imploring him not to say what he was thinking. The Ferryman’s tasks were dreadful; Krishani would probably die. She hated she could hear the Kiirar’s thoughts.
Krishani hung his head and nodded. “If it’s what she wants.”
“It is,” she said. She looked at Mallorn for comfort, but there was no compassion coming from him. Her legs were shaky, and she held onto the reins of the horse for balance.
Krishani wrapped his arms around her and forced her to look into his eyes. “This is madness, Kaliel! Please, let me stay with you.”
“Someone needs to warn the others,” Mallorn said.
Kaliel knew Crestaos would attack full force, and Mallorn was afraid of what to expect.
“Go to Orlondir, warn Istar.”
She was thankful that Mallorn was in agreement with her. “You have to warn them. Crestaos won’t stop until ...” The fear entered her voice again as she disentangled herself from his embrace and wrapped her arms around herself.
“There isn’t much time,” Mallorn said as he looked at the sky. The sun was pushing past noon and nightfall would fall early. It was Winter Solstice in Avristar, and instead of celebrations, they would be met with an attack, the first attack in centuries.
Krishani pulled her into his arms and placed his lips on her neck. “I’ll come back for you, even if I have to kill him myself,” he whispered in her ear.
Tremors of anguish washed through Kaliel as she tried to accept her choices. But there was this nagging sense that no matter what they did, the foe wouldn’t be defeated. She closed her eyes and melted into his embrace, his breath hot against her neck. It wasn’t comforting.
“Be careful,” she said.
Krishani kissed her. “You mean everything to me.”
Kaliel felt numb as she kissed him back, trying to control the flood of emotions that wanted to overwhelm her. “You mean everything to me, too.”
He let his arms drop and hung his head.
Rhina grazed a few feet away. Mallorn followed Krishani as he crossed the forest and pulled on the reins of the horse. “Tell Istar the truth,” Mallorn said.
Krishani looked at him solemnly as he mounted the horse. He shot a forlorn glance at Kaliel. Mallorn took her hand and helped her mount Umber, then climbed on behind her. Her eyes met Krishani’s one last time before Umber trotted through the forests.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
“I love you, too,” he mouthed back as he pulled the horse towards Orlondir, the last place she wanted him to be.
A girl stood in the middle of the meadow in Evennses. She was in a long beige dress, her brown hair flapping behind her like a flag, her blazing brown eyes alive and vibrant. Pux hopped off the last rung of the porch step and stopped in his tracks when he saw her scanning the meadow. He went to take a step closer, but she noticed and stalked towards him.
“Where are the Elders?” she demanded, her voice full of alarm.
Pux didn’t smile at her, but scoffed instead. “On lessons with other apprentices.”
“Can you call them back?” Her eyes were wild, and beads of sweat ran down her neck towards he
r collarbone.
Pux thought for a moment and turned towards the porch. They had a horn, but it was in one of the locked cabinets and he wasn’t even supposed to touch the hearth fire let alone the horn. “I don’t think ...”
“You’re one of the older apprentices,” the girl said suddenly. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and glared at him. “I need you to do it now.”
Pux shrugged. He didn’t like arguing with people and so he went into the common room. Strips of daylight caused a dreary glow in the dusty house. He turned to the cabinets along the wall. They kept the horn at the House of Kin for convenience, and because it was the meeting place if there was an emergency. He looked at the lock on the cabinet. It was a puzzle box lock, which required you to move the series of wooden panels into formation to open it. He hadn’t tried before, but he was good at puzzle boxes. He narrowed his eyes and began sliding pieces into place. She sat as Pux finished with the lock. Inside was a large seashell, twice the size of his fist.
“Don’t touch it,” she said, jumping to her feet.
Pux glowered at her, but stepped away from the cabinet. There was no fun in not being able to touch something if he had picked a lock to get to that thing in the first place. Still, he held his hands up in surrender.
“I know how to use it,” he said as she neared it.
She shook her head. “It isn’t that. It just looks ... breakable.”
Pux shrugged as she carefully lifted it out of the cabinet. Her delicate hands curved around the smooth shell as she turned and headed out the door. Pux followed and found her standing in front of the House of Kin, one end of the seashell poised at her lips. She glanced back at him.
“You can cover your ears if you like,” she said.
Pux reluctantly placed his hands on his ears as she blew into the seashell and sent a loud crashing noise into the air. The sounded reminded him of the merfolk and the stories Kaliel used to tell him about their calls. The noise was met with the familiar shrieks of birds, squirrels and other animals as they ducked for cover. She paused and then let out another loud wail, sending shivers up his spine. She turned back to him and the two marched into the House of Kin. She placed the seashell into the cabinet and sat down on the log.
Pux sat across from her, his arms crossed. “Who are you?”
“Melianna,” the girl said with a chirpy tone. It sounded too happy, and her eyes betrayed her. They sat there staring at each other until Grimand shoved his way into the House of Kin.
“There’s an emergency?” he asked. What’s happened?”
Melianna hung her head. “A war is coming.”
Pux clenched his fist the moment she said it and he was gone. He didn’t know where he was transporting to this time, but all he could think about was Kaliel. It had been so hard not being able to see her every day, having to wonder about what was going on in Orlondir. That, and he was still angry with that elven boy for having anything to do with her. The confrontation at the waterfall was only the start of things he wanted to say to him. He felt scratchy fabric against his back as the twisting and tumbling through space and time stopped. He sat and looked around. He was in a tower room, a green embroidered rug stretching across the floor. There was a bed and a chest and a bureau, but it was otherwise empty. Kaliel’s room? He frowned and got up, looking for something of hers. His eyes darted around the room and, finding nothing, he sighed. Maybe she wasn’t in Orlondir anymore? Maybe they had sent her away? He cautiously opened the door and saw the familiar corridors to the Elmare Castle in front of him. He recognized the burgundy carpeting and grimaced. He was in the west wing, where the kinfolk of Evennses always stayed during the Fire Festivals.
Pux crept across the floor, keeping his eyes low in case anyone noticed him and thwarted his plans to sneak around. He reached the end of the corridor and glanced at the balconies that interrupted the thick, stone walls. They overlooked the Grand Hall. From where Pux stood he saw the shimmering crystals of the chandelier. He was momentarily distracted by it, but forced himself to turn his attention to the wider hallway. It was empty. He let out a breath of relief and then heard voices coming from the service hall. He quickened his pace towards them, hoping he could find another place to hide. When he was in the stairwell he paused and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
“Hernadette, go to the catacombs. I need you to open the armory.” The voice was thick and tense. Pux recognized it immediately as belonging to Istar.
“My lord?” a meek voice replied. It was Hernadette.
“Don’t say anything to anyone, there is a war coming.”
Pux felt like he was falling. One moment he was on the stairs and the next his face was planted into the stone of the service hall. His hair was ruffled and he was sore but he was otherwise unharmed. There was a surprised scream and a grumble that sounded far away, and he was hauled onto his feet.
Istar glared at him, his eyes full of icy blue storms. “Take this one with you. Get him to help you haul the chests up to the service hall.” He didn’t wait for Pux to respond. He abruptly turned on his heel and stormed off down the hallway.
Pux didn’t know what to think. War hadn’t touched Avristar in thousands of years. Suddenly he felt so small and helpless, and worse than that was that he hadn’t found Kaliel. Where was she and was she safe? There was a hand on his arm and he flinched.
“Come on,” Hernadette said.
Pux didn’t say anything as she ushered him towards the catacombs.
Krishani sped across the rolling hills of Orlondir, his heart beating fast. His mind was clouded with a thousand thoughts, all of them fighting for space in his muddled mind. His strength faltered, threatening to throw him off the horse. Stabs of pain hit his gut with blinding force, causing him to wince. His eyes watered and tears flew into the wind. He snapped the reins and yelled at Rhina, encouraging her to go faster.
Krishani didn’t relish the idea of facing Istar. He knew the depth of his elder’s disappointment in him would be impossible to accept. He had betrayed Avristar and denied who he was. He should have known Istar would never understand love. He stifled the urge to vomit as he neared the stables.
He needed to believe there was a chance Avristar would survive. It was shielded by magic, protected by gargoyles at night, crawling with elders, and housed by the land itself. In Avristar the land was alive, its voice sending guidance to those who lived in her forests. From a purely strategic standpoint, it seemed like a stronghold.
But it would take more than strength to defeat the Valtanyana.
Krishani raked a hand through his hair as he tugged on Rhina’s reins and led her into the stables. An eerie quiet that made him stop in his tracks. The foe would bring an army. He would hit Avristar with everything he had. His body fell limp as he realized he couldn’t imagine the foe’s arsenal. Would Avristar be strong enough to fight against him?
Krishani pulled Rhina into an empty stall and noticed a young feorn crouching in the corner, fiddling with a piece of metal. At first the shapes made no sense, but as he stared at them, realization hit. It was armor for the horses.
Istar knew about the attack.
The young feorn glanced at Krishani and fearfully dropped the metal at his feet before scuttling away. Krishani crossed the archway and stood in the bustling service hall. More piles of armor and weapons were strewn across the cobblestone floor. Chests drawn up from the catacombs of the Elmare Castle pressed against the walls. They had been cracked open.
Krishani’s mouth hung open as kinfolk and servants fled past him, frantically fitting themselves and gathering weapons. It was something he never thought he would ever see in Avristar.
How did they know? he wondered. He knew what came next—anger.
He waited for a familiar face to find him and scold him for his treachery. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his boots. No matter what, he had to tell them what happened, who they were fighting against.
It was probably better to leave
out what they were fighting for. Mallorn’s words circled to the fore of his mind: Tell Istar the truth. The truth was this was his fault. He was to blame for the attack that was coming. He wouldn’t remind Istar they were fighting for the Flame. Anything about his love for Kaliel was bound to make him livid. As far as the rest of the inhabitants in Avristar were concerned, they were fighting for their home.
He closed his eyes, hoping Kaliel was okay. He had never heard of Avred, but the way Kaliel and Mallorn made it sound, it would make all the difference. He had confidence she would be safe, wherever she was going, whatever she was planning to do.
There was a familiar set of eyes on him. Krishani glanced up and saw Istar at the end of the hall, his eyes blazing with anger. Adorned in impressive armor and a velvet, embroidered cloak with the emblem of Avristar sewn into the fabric. Krishani felt his knees weaken as Istar strode towards him and grabbed his elbow.
“Why did you return?” Istar hissed. His blue eyes were like ice as they bore into him.
Krishani slunk away and looked at the ground. He wanted to tell Istar it was unfair to send him away without saying goodbye, that if he was meant to be the Ferryman, he deserved a chance to make things right with Kaliel first. Everything between them had been left so incomplete. He never could have guessed that seeing her one last time would force the foe to the shores of Avristar.
“You got what you wanted,” Istar said. He gripped Krishani’s elbow harder and pulled him up so he had no choice but to look at him.
“The Valtanyana are on their way,” Krishani said, unable to quell the restless storms in his stomach.
Istar threw the elbow away from him and Krishani fell to his knees from the force. The elder paced in a small circle and faced him again. “You think we did not know? Show your elders more respect. We saw the beacon.”
SURRENDER (The Ferryman + The Flame) Page 27
