The Fallen One

by Lexy Wolfe

  "The Dyndrai started making noise about uniting our families when you attained mastery." Bethal snorted. "Unite. They wanted to obliterate the Lirai and make us Dyndrai. They made more overt offers when they realized you were close to the Illaini Magus. But when the Knowing One Herself had chosen you to be the Tredecima's second, giving you you first chair? Let's just say, they have done everything short of arrow-point surprise weddings. Hells, they even try to set up situations that would 'force' someone to marry. Our matchmakers are adept in finding good matches for the girls unable to avoid Dyndrai… attentions."

  Whispers of Ash's voice when they were younger came to Nolyn's mind, how he feared their friendship would endanger Nolyn or his family. Nolyn shook his head sharply, both to silence the voice and to dismiss Bethal's concern when the older brother studied his suddenly silent brother intently. "None have agreed to any unions?"

  The man shook his head. "We Lirai know very well the Dyndrai are a waning power and are seeking any means to restore their position on the hierarchy. They want to have more say in how things are managed in Queosia, but we know to what end that would lead. To their benefit alone and to the rest of the her and Estania's suffering. We serve the Knowing One, no other." He said in a low voice, "Watch your back, Nolyn. Kerburn is not a man to be trusted."

  Chapter 24

  At the gypsy camp outside of Ganessi, Kiya sat near the campfire on an ornate woven rug the Morlaiz clan had gifted to her, meditating on the dancing flames. With a sharp inhalation of breath, she snapped out of her meditative state, looking around owlishly as she struggled to get reoriented. Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she slipped out of the camp without being seen, fleeing to the beach that bordered the camp.

  She kicked off her sandals and pulled her veil back before stepping into the surf. The water lapped her ankles as she held the hem of her travel robes above the moving surface. The soothing rhythms of the rolling surf calmed her. It was not until the sun began to peek over the horizon that she heard a familiar masculine voice chiding her with a mixture of relief and exasperation. A small smile touched her lips.

  "Su'alin, I wish you would not wander away without at least one of us with you. It is too dangerous here. We are not within Desantiva now. We Swordanzen are not as attuned with this land or its people and may not be aware if something happens to you." Seeker's hard expression softened a little. "Our quest be damned. I cannot lose you, little sister."

  Her eyes closed, shoulders sagging a little. "I know. I am sorry, Rengi... I mean, Seeker."

  He frowned in concern. "Was it the darkness in the flames again?"

  "Not just that." She looked back over her shoulder. "I needed to find a quiet place to center myself again. There are so many lost spirits here! So many who long to be heard so they will move on. It takes so long for them to realize those they yearn for are gone because they have held themselves to the mortal realm instead of moving onto the spirit realm. They so fear death here, they cannot accept it even when it has claimed them. And when they finally return, that fear haunts them in their reborn lives. I have seen so much of that in the eyes of so many outlanders." She sighed, closing her eyes. "I wish I could help them all, but..."

  "They are not your responsibility, Kiya. They are outlander souls. Defilers." Seeker took a half step back when Kiya turned, fixing him with a flint-like gaze. "You cannot have sympathy for those who nearly destroyed all of Desantiva!"

  "Those who were the true defilers are long gone from this world and can never be reborn. They paid a terrible price for their heinous crimes." She looked skyward as seagulls sailed lazy circles on the air currents above. "I am Su'alin. My life belongs to the Path of the Spirit. It is my purpose to protect mortal souls, to bring them peace. Desanti. Vodani. Outlander. It does not matter where a soul is from. No one should be left bereft as they have been." She opened eyes that were vivid gold. "But I am only one. Even if all the Su'alin were here, they could not attend to all who need help." She turned to walk out of the water. "I cannot help but pity them."

  Seeker blinked. "Pity them? Outlanders?" He snorted as he held out his hand to her to steady her on the shifting sands as she walked out of the surf. "Why? We have suffered what our ancestors had suffered. They deserve to suffer for what their ancestors had done to us." He waved a hand towards the grassy embankment and the grove of trees beyond. "This would have been a desert compared to the life Desantiva once held."

  "Do not those who hurt lash out, even when a hand is offered to them, because the pain clouds their thinking?" Kiya looked at Seeker for a moment, the gold of her eyes fading to the pale tawny brown, before she lowered the veil. "Deserving or not, if they suffer, they could lash out. Besides, the Githalin Swordanzen's words as the elders repeated to us before we left speak to the worth of some of them."

  "Bah. It just makes things complicated when they do not conform to the patterns we learned." Seeker scanned the area as they returned to camp. "Easier if we could just hate them all and be done with it."

  "That would only prove our ignorance in their eyes, Seeker. And to ourselves. If you wish to prove they are ignorant, we have to show we are not." Kiya turned a faint smile on her brother. "If our family took the easy paths, we would not have Su'alin or Swordanzen in our numbers."

  Seeker grunted, his dark scowl bringing a group of scampering gypsy children up short before they shrieked in play terror, falling over themselves with giggles as they fled. "Or Githalin," he allowed, shaking his head at the fleeing children. "Though I still say Skyfire il'Kailee should have followed the Path of the Spirit. If he were Su'alin and not Swordanzen, he could have become Alanis of the na'Citali!"

  "Radisen is Su'alin, Rengi. No matter what path we choose for ourselves, the gift is one that chooses us. The spirits of home yearn for his company as much as I do. But the accident impaired his vision in the spirit world." Kiya sighed softly. "He is as crippled there as you would be if your vision was damaged. At least, that is what Father believed, and denied Radisen any communion with the spirit realm while he remained."

  "I know, I know." Seeker aimlessly gestured in irritation. "But I have no spiritwalker gift and I became Swordanzen."

  "If Father had accepted that, Radisen might have chosen to follow both. Instead, he lost a son. We lost a brother. And impaired or not, Radisen might lose himself if he is left untrained in the discipline of the Path of the Spirit. There is only so much he can do alone without a guide to teach him. We have to find him." Her anxiousness broke through the façade of calm. "We have to find them both. We just have to! The A'tyrna Ulan said the Githalin must heal the land so she can be free. I can't— I don't know what I will do if—"

  Seeker pulled Kiya close in a comforting embrace, hushing her. "We will find Skyfire and Storm both, little sister. We will find them. And we will all return to Desantiva where they will sing your praises for generations to come. Kiya na'Citali, the first Su'alin to walk the outlands and return victorious over the defilers who kept our people from us."

  Kiya said nothing, opening her eyes while he held her to stare at the fire and feeling the tendrils of darkness reaching for her. She closed her eyes tightly and hid her face against his chest and clung to him desperately.

  Chapter 25

  As the sky began to brighten with the rising sun, Nolyn and Marcus approached one of the other centers of Quoesia. The number of people already awake and moving about the market area was significant even compared to Ithesra. "Welcome to Three Point Market," the man stated with some amusement at his apprentice's expression.

  "Wow! It isn't as big as Ithesra's Market Circle, but there are so many people here! And vendors! And so busy before noon! I guess people are only lazy in Ithesra." Marcus turned bright red when Nolyn laughed heartily. "Sorry, Master. I did not mean any insult to Verusia."

  "Don't worry, Marcus. I tend to be up before sunrise out of habit. But I've often felt the same way. I spent most of my life in Ithesra and still think that about people there." He clappe
d the boy's shoulder. "Come on. I remember one vendor who made the most exquisite hair combs. I want to see if she's still there."

  Marcus looked at Nolyn quizzically. "You want hair combs, Master? I don't think… your hair is, um, long enough to need them?"

  The man gave the boy a sidelong look. "Not for myself, silly goose. For Miss Kelafy. As much shit as she puts up with from both Ash and I, she deserves something nice."

  "Oh! I see. That's very nice of you, Master." Marcus frowned a little as he thought. "Miss Kelafy doesn't have any family to give her presents, does she?"

  "None that live in Ithesra," Nolyn confirmed in a quiet voice. "Her husband had died of illness years ago, and their sons had moved away to more rural locales where the hunting is still good. Being the capital region of Forenta, Verusia cannot support too many hunters without harming the land."

  "No girls?" he wondered.

  "One. Missing for several years now." Nolyn smiled wanly at Marcus. "So, we should be her family, and show how much we appreciate her."

  Scratching behind his ear, Marcus said, "I think she knows, but I think she would like some pretty hair combs anyway."

  The pair walked along the wide bridges between the three anchor trees that framed the market area of the city. More and more eyes turned towards them, wide in surprise as people leaned close to whisper to one another. Utter silence overtook the crowds when a sharp voice called out, "Hey! Nolyn Lirai! You bastard, look over here!"

  Turning, Nolyn arched an eyebrow as he regarded a tall, bear of a man dressed in the heavy leathers of a hunter. Scowling darkly, the massive man stalked forward, many of the much smaller patrons hurried out of his way. Marcus hid behind Nolyn as the man stopped just short of running into him. Both stared at one another, arms crossed.

  Without warning, the dark scowl that lined the massive man's heavy features lifted and the two clasped hands in a comraderely gesture as they laughed, pulling each other into a rough, back-thumping embrace. "Good gods, look at you, mage! They done made a respectable man out of you!"

  "Ursin, you old mongrel, I would have thought you'd have been eaten by those poor bears you keep tormenting by now." Nolyn waited with patiences while Ursin took his hand, lowering himself to touch the Edai Magus ring with his brow briefly in respect before the two returned to their bantering. The shock wore off into whispers as the people in the market watched the two.

  "Bah. Couple tried. Didn't like the taste of me. Kept spitting me out." Ursin looked behind Nolyn at Marcus. He chuckled. "Don't worry, boy. I don't bite. Often. And only the lasses over in the tree you are too young to be visiting yet anyway." The man winked as Marcus averted his eyes, turning a brilliant shade of red.

  "Don't torment my apprentice, Ursin," Nolyn requested in dry tones. He turned so he could regard both. "Marcus, this is Ursin Farover. He is the man who taught me everything I know about the forests and archery."

  Marcus swallowed nervously, offering a proper bow. "A-a p-pleasure t-to meet you, Master Ursin Farover."

  "Bah. Call me Ursin, lad. Never did have any use for all this formality crap the highborn adore. There ain't a beast alive that will give a rat's ass whether or not you can recite the entire lineage of Master Bleating Donkey. Soon as try to rip your throat out first most times."

  "Such a refined and gentle soul you are, Ursin," Nolyn interrupted, voice droll. He earned a derisive snort from Ursin and giggles from those close enough to hear the conversation, including Marcus. Turning to walk towards the far tree, Nolyn asked, "I think I owe you a drink, don't I?"

  "Five, but who's counting," Ursin replied with a smirk. "I got a place at Raven's Nest. The place ain't as highbrow as you're used to, but it'll be a good place to talk."

  "Farover is a strange family name," Marcus whispered to Nolyn as they reached one of the ladders heading up into the shaded canopy of the tree far above.

  "That's because it ain't a family name," Ursin stated from above them. "Woodsmen like me give up our family names when we master our art so we are beholden to nothing and to no one." The man paused to look over his shoulder. "Your master could have been one of the best of us, but he decided to stay all respectable and get his mage mastery." Ursin spat to the side and grunted in disapproval.

  "You don't like mages?" Marcus asked in surprise.

  "Not most of 'em. They get too stuck on themselves and stupid shit. Forget the rest of the land is part of the great mother's domain that we're responsible for." Reaching a dark crevice near the top of the tree, Ursin squeezed himself inside, his voice floating back. "Thought that mage that hired me to tutor your master and that other apprentice of his was insane, to tell the truth. But looks like he had things right."

  Nolyn grinned at Marcus before following Ursin into the well hidden tavern. "Ursin knows more about surviving the wilds of Forenta than any man alive." Once they were inside, the pair had to pause until their eyes adjusted to the much darker interior. Most of the people, dressed much like Ursin, looked at them with the feral, distrusting gaze of lupine. After they decided the two were neither threat nor interesting,, they turned back to their tankards and card games or other diversions.

  "And we woodsmen survive without magic!" Ursin bellowed, chest puffed out in pride. Dragging out a heavy chair from a corner table and flopping in it, he called out, "Rosaline! Bring me the strongest you got for me and my friend here, and some of that piss you call wine for the boy."

  The buxom woman who came to the table blinked when her eye caught the glimpse of the pendant Nolyn wore, Verusia's symbol combined with the symbol of his rank. "Edai Magus of Verusia? Well, it is about time the mage council got off their asses to send some help out here." Oblivious to Nolyn's arched eyebrow or Marcus's dropped jaw, Rosaline smirked as Ursin put an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. "Never do anything half measure, do you, Ursin, eh? And you bring him here? I'm surprised he hasn't fainted from all of the lowborn stench in here." She swatted his chest soundly. "You don't let me go, you don't get any drink, old man."

  "Then get one of your pretty lasses to fetch. Especially if she's got the jugs to make it entertaining." He guffawed when she swatted him harder. "You are a heartless woman, Rosaline."

  "Having a heart is useless with men like you, Ursin. Just make sure you pay up this time." She stood up as he uncurled his arm. "The bounty on your death tab wouldn't be worth it."

  "What's… a death tab?" Marcus asked in a small voice.

  "Bah." Sitting forward again, Ursin leaned on the table, looking at the two. "I'm one of the few woodsmen who could get away with running a tab at the taverns. But she knows why I'm in Quoesia. Any bounty to find my dead body out in the forest to collect anything left on my corpse to pay off the tab would be more than the tab was worth."

  "I remember your superstition about how you've stayed alive by keeping enough obligations that Death wouldn't let you die to get out of them. How big is your tab?" Nolyn wondered.

  "Five thousand gold, give or take," Ursin replied with a shrug.

  Nolyn whistled in appreciation. "Sizeable. Even for you." Ursin just grunted, taking the large cup Rosaline handed to him and downing half. The mage tossed two gold coins to Rosaline who caught them with the speed of a striking snake and making them disappear just as fast. She nodded to Nolyn's oblique gesture to leave, tucking her tray by her hip as she headed to other tables. "I heard there was trouble out here."

  "Yeah? Surprised. The Dyndrai clamped down on travel by the locals something fierce the past few months. Rumor is to make sure the Edai Tredecima don't hear about the shit up north of here. Don't stop me, but little would as you well know."

  "Edai Magus Eptina mentioned—" Marcus began before he bit his tongue and looked down in shame when both men looked at him.

  "So, she kept her word," Ursin rumbled in a low voice. "Big risk on her part. The Dyndrai have no tolerance for any sort of betrayal. Seen the old man put one of his own boys down when he mouthed off once. Then said the boy'd gotten ripped apart b
y a pack of lupine, had a fancy memorial service and then some festival to celebrate the Dyndrai's contributions to Quoesia." He snorted in derision. "Didn't even give the poor kid a decent burial, just left him for the scavengers. I took care of that. Gave the girl Edai Magus his family pendant."

  Nolyn sipped his drink, pausing to shudder at the bitter strength as it hit a half moment later. "That was kind of you," he said noncommittally.

  "Feh. We ain't nothing but animals if we forget our basic humanity towards each other. And that Kerburn is damned close to being less than an animal, if you ask me." Ursin grunted as he shifted, his eyes sparkling as he thought on the past. "Found her on the Andar-Quoesia Road. One near dead guard, few dead horses. Blood everywhere. It was a mess. Helped her get back to her family home, but I told her I didn't want money. I wanted her to do her damned job and fix the problem she couldn't. Boy, I'll tell you, thought Kerburn was going to have me run through. But he just smiled, threw some gold at me, and took her inside."

  "You know what's been going on then?" Nolyn asked, holding up his hand to Marcus to quiet him. Marcus just lowered his eyes, both hands on his cup of watered down wine.

  "Only heard the stories," Ursin replied in a low voice. "Hunters been going up north across the borders to the Gallilae province. Lot of them ain't been coming back. And those ones that do? The Dyndrai snatch them up fast and keep them locked away. They say to care for them, but I'd bet my sweet ass Bessie it's just to keep people from finding out there's something out there."

  Nolyn blinked and asked slowly, "You named your ass…?" Marcus choked on his wine, coughing at his master's question.