Krishani felt slapped, but it was a better feeling than the guilt that threatened to swallow him in self-pity. He took a deep breath and stood, fresh resolve entering his bones. Since he caused the fray, he would do everything he could to change it, to bring peace back to Avristar. He clenched his fist and met Istar’s gaze. “How can I help?”
Istar assessed him, grunted, then said, “Arm yourself and fall into the ranks with the others.” The elder stormed away.
Kaliel pushed herself against Umber’s mane as Mallorn coaxed the horse to speed through the trees with as much force as it could muster. Her heart beat in irregular spurts, her grief and sadness mixing into a muddle of thoughts. She knew there was only one thing that would make the foe retreat. She had to get there in time and ask for his help, Avred’s help.
The forests thickened and moisture hung in the air. Kaliel took in a hot, humid breath; sputtered and wheezed at the awkward sensation of water in her lungs. She rubbed her torso, hoping to smooth out the pounding nerves racing through her limbs. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled loudly as she nestled into the horse’s mane. She closed her eyes and let herself drift, sleep calling to her as nightfall neared them. Even though her stomach was in knots she had a willful determination festering in her bones. She would stop the foe. She was unlike the other Flames; they were too aloof to heed the warnings, they were his pawns now. Kaliel refused to belong to him. She ran her hand along the horse’s mane. There was only one person in the land she wanted to belong to, and he was fighting this battle as hard as she was.
“We’re almost there,” Mallorn said as Umber pulled through the vines and palm trees that lined the path. This was a part of Avristar Kaliel knew little about. All of the elders seemed averse to talking about what existed in the northwest corner of the island, as though the existence of Avred was a threat.
Umber followed the narrow path until it came to a dead end. The horse ambled forward and paused at a wall of vines and giant green leaves that stood in the way.
“Kaliel,” Mallorn said.
She pushed up from the mane, disoriented from the thoughts that clouded her mind. Part of her was thinking about Evennses, Desaunius and Pux, what they would be doing during the battle, but another part was focused on Krishani. Istar had never been lenient; she doubted he would start now. She opened her mouth to say something, but found herself awestruck by the heat that cascaded through the trees. It made her dizzy and sick. She slid off the horse and pushed the vines out of the way to reveal a small sandy beach that wound to the left. The forests dropped away and the stars hung above her. She glanced up and noticed the phoenix constellation in the sky above the village. It always was her favourite star pattern. She glanced at the lagoon that stretched to the far reaches of the tropical forest. It was shallow and smooth, the stars reflected on its surface.
She looked back at Mallorn. “What is Avred?” Desaunius never told her, but she was clear that in their darkest hour, he had been the only thing that pushed the Valtanyana back.
Mallorn creased his brow and hung his head. “He is the male spirit of the land.”
Kaliel let her eyes whisper with hints of anger as she met his blue ones. “What is he?” she asked more earnestly, knowing the answer was something that scared all of the elders in Avristar.
Mallorn ran his hand along Umber’s neck. “A volcano.”
Kaliel gasped. Spasms raked over her flesh. She could face the foe or face the volcano. She could hide and let Crestaos rip Avristar apart. She could let Krishani face him and die. She felt dizzy with grief. “Will he help?”
“The Shee will tell you that. I don’t know.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Mallorn dropped his hand and met her gaze. He tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his forehead. “The Shee speak for Avred, the way the Gatekeeper speaks for Avristar.”
Kaliel rubbed her arms at the mention of the Gatekeeper. There was nothing she feared more than the voice of Avristar. Even the Valtanyana ran a close second. “I can’t ask Avristar for help.”
Mallorn didn’t say anything.
“Will you speak to them?”
He shook his head and took her hands in his. “They need to hear it from you.”
Revelation came over her as he moved away and mounted the horse. She was all alone. This was something she would have to do, no one else. No help. No support. No anything.
“Then go to Orlondir!” she shouted, surprised by the tone and volume of her voice. It rose above the monotonous sounds that ran through the forests. Hot tears stung her cheeks and she wiped them away with her palms. She crossed her arms and glanced at the glade. “Make sure Krishani lives.”
Mallorn sighed as he pulled Umber away from the village. He gave her a nod, a silent promise, and then 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 could feel 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 foe 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; 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 rummaged through the pile, and 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, he couldn’t read it.
Krishani nodded to the servant that this would do. He turned around and 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 was gradually getting fuller by the day. Everyone seemed so engrossed in their own lives that it was irrelevant at the time.
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 flooded his mind. 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 foe 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 he 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 muscled 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 foe 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 raced towards 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 the foe to come by boat, which meant they would come in succession.
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, the 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 touched her land before, and it never would.
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 to see into the distance. Agitated and restless, he knew the sooner he faced the foe, 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 battlefield 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 on the ground, the force startled 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. It was 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.
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 forest brush. 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 could feel 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 bod
y 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.
SURRENDER (The Ferryman + The Flame) Page 28
