Combatant: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 3)

by Anderle, Michael

  Eohne turned away and began to rummage through her satchel as Jordan watched. She retrieved strange looking tools, vials, and mysterious objects. She paused to look over her shoulder at the Arpak. "I need time. My magic is not fast."

  "Give him what you gave me when I was getting sick at The Silver Pony," Jordan suggested.

  Eohne shook her head. "That was different."

  "I can help. If we could get it down his throat––" Jordan paused when she felt Toth's hand on her elbow, and allowed the Nycht to draw her away.

  "Let her work," he said quietly.

  Jordan crossed her arms over her chest. She went to peer out the small porthole near the captain's desk. She stood there for a long time, and Toth watched her watching the waves. Eventually, Jordan let loose a long sigh and sat in the captain's chair.

  The trio was interrupted by a sailor wearing a dirty apron, coming to deliver mugs of ale, a jug of water, salted meat, and slices of dry bread and cheese. He attempted some polite conversation but soon gave up, discouraged by the sullen Strix and the Elf who was focused intently on the man in the captain's bed. The sailor dismissed himself.

  Toth beckoned for Eohne and Jordan to come eat. Neither woman had much appetite but they knew they needed their strength. They ate slowly, forcing themselves, never breaking the silence.

  The ship gently bobbed on the waves. The mist had cleared and blue sky and gray water seemed to stretch endlessly in the view from the portal.

  Jordan finally tired of working over the problem of her father's state in her mind. When Toth finished eating, she pinned him with a look. "You were awfully grim when you landed after your fight." It was a statement, not a question, but her expression was an invitation.

  Toth leaned against the ship's hull and faced Jordan. "It's the harpy."

  "What about him?"

  Toth lowered his voice so as not to interrupt the Elf. "His presence this far out to sea is unprecedented."

  "How do you know that? You live way inland at The Conca."

  "Yes, but I've had occasion to battle them off-shore. I have fought harpies for a decade now; I'd like to think I know something about them. They don't fight over the sea because there is no point. They don't want to lose their meal to the ocean."

  Jordan was nodding. "Blue and I were attacked by two of them just north of Maticaw, just off-shore. They kept trying to herd us over land."

  The Nycht paled upon hearing this. "That cocky young Arpak let you travel to Maticaw from the north by yourself?" Toth let loose a stream of unflattering epithets.

  Jordan put up a hand. "No, he didn't want to let me go. I insisted."

  "He didn't try hard enough," Toth said harshly, raking a hand through his silver hair.

  "I also had Blue."

  Toth gave her a withering look. "Blue is no defense against two harpies."

  "You'd be surprised––" Jordan shook her head sharply. "Anyway, that is not the point. The point is that I noticed behavior that confirmed what you are saying. Harpies don't hunt at sea."

  "They do for fish, but never out of sight of the shore, and never for large, airborne prey. Some prey might float, but harpies don't want to take that chance."

  "So," Jordan's shoulders rose up to meet her ears, "what do you think he was doing this far out to sea?"

  "I have been turning that over in my mind since the first time I heard him scream." Toth moved to sit in the second chair near the captain's desk, looking comical as his broad form perched uncomfortably on the narrow surface. He leaned toward Jordan and animated his words with his hands. "Rodania is shaped like a big crooked pie." He held his hands broadly apart, fingers splayed as his thumbs and forefingers illustrated the width of the pie. "Lower Rodania is eight hundred odd miles wide, and the protective shield arches like this," he moved a hand in a half-circle dome, to meet the other hand. "The shield is a marvel of magical-engineering, the only one of its kind. It was constructed by the Light-Elves." He glanced at Eohne and ratcheted his voice down a notch. "Their magic is widely considered to be superior to any other on Oriceran." He cocked his head, giving a small allowance, ”In terms of white magic, anyway. No one can penetrate the shield who has not first been given permission to do so."

  Jordan was nodding. "You have to give blood."

  "Right, of course, you've been through it already." He waved a hand. "Even though you are Strix, and an acknowledged citizen of Rodania as a result of your species, you still had to give blood before you were allowed in."

  "Yes."

  Toth spread his hands again, making the original shape. "A harpy would have to first cross from the mainland to the edge of the shield, well out of sight of shore. Then skirt the shield," Toth moved a finger showing the long indirect path the harpy would have to take. "Making a journey of hundreds of miles out to sea to skirt Rodania's borders. Then all the way out to Trevilsom—–another long journey."

  Understanding began to cross Jordan's face as she listened. "And still be strong enough by the time he reached us at the ship, to fight you the way he did."

  Toth nodded. "Either that harpy was supercharged by some dark magic I don't understand, or––" His face grew long as a thought struck him.

  "Or what?" Eohne asked from across the room.

  The Strix glanced at the Elf, unaware that she had been listening. Eohne peered at her friends from her place on the edge of Allan's bed. A cornucopia of items were spread on the itchy wool fabric at Allan's elbow.

  "A harpy fueled by dark magic and behaving the way that harpy did is extremely unlikely," Eohne went on. "I have a radar for dark magic, but I did not sense anything untoward, so ‘or’ what?"

  "A portal?" Toth ventured, but doubt was already crossing his face.

  Eohne looked down at her work. "That is even less likely," she muttered.

  The Strix looked at each other unhappily. Toth leaned back, his shoulders dropping. He looked at Eohne. "You're the brilliant mind, here. Against all odds, the harpy was here. He was strong, not exhausted. You saw him with your own eyes. Can you explain it?"

  Eohne shook her head and put a hand on Allan's chest. "I can't. Seems there is a lot I can't explain at the moment."

  The three weary friends frowned at one another in a miserable commiseration of doubt. No one spoke for a long time after that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Le Monarque made steady progress, even though Allan didn't. Captain Segolan generously slept in a hammock with his crew, allowing the guests to utilize his quarters. Even so, they were cramped and uncomfortable. Allan occupied the bed, which was large enough for two people, but Jordan with her wings could not fit, and so slept on the floor, cocooned in her own feathers. Jordan suggested Eohne curl up beside Allan, but the Elf sat up beside her charge all night instead. Toth lay in front of the door, wrapped in his wings, his head resting against the back of a dew claw, making him look like he had a long black nail protruding from his ear.

  In the morning, all three of them were stiff, but no one looked more miserable than Eohne.

  "Are you seasick?" Jordan asked the Elf as she rose and stretched her limbs and wings as much as she was able to in the small space.

  The Elf gave a wan smile and shook her head, then seemed to hesitate, "Not so much, anyway." Eohne had her hand resting on Allan's chest and was watching it rise and fall. "I tried three different processes of healing magic on him last night." Eohne looked up at her friend, miserable. "Nothing worked."

  "Did you learn anything? See anything in his blood or hair or… anything?" Jordan didn't know how Eohne's magic worked, but she did know it was based on frequency, and often needed some organic matter from the body.

  "Nothing," Eohne sighed. "The coma is deep and resolute."

  Neither of the women heard Toth get up, so both of them jumped when he spoke from very close behind Jordan.

  "What about your ancestor’s memoirs? Can you remember nothing about what he said about this affect the Rakshaaks have on humans?"

  "As far
as I can remember, no human ever left Trevilsom alive—–or if they did, they are not in Firohne's records. There may be other cases, but I am unaware of them." Eohne chewed her lip. She looked drawn, exhausted.

  "You need to eat something," said Jordan, turning away. "It won't do my father any good to have you fainting from hunger."

  Toth raised an eyebrow at Jordan's cold demeanor and opened his mouth to say something, but Eohne shot him a look accompanied by a small headshake. He closed his mouth again and shrugged. This was between them; he was just fine staying out of things.

  The captain visited with food and invited them to come out on deck, as it was looking to be a fine day for sailing. Jordan and Toth followed him out. Eohne would not leave Allan's side. The two Strix stretched their legs and wings, ignoring the furtive glances from the sailors as they walked the deck.

  After a half dozen turns around the ship, Toth and Jordan leaned their elbows on the railing and watched the waves drift by. The wind tugged at Jordan's hair and salt spray peppered their faces.

  "It's not really her fault," Toth said, bumping Jordan's shoulder with his own as they watched the horizon. When she didn't respond, Toth looked at her. "She didn't throw Allan in prison. She had no way of knowing that he might be able to," he opened his palms, "follow those bugs back here."

  Jordan didn't answer for a long time. Just when he thought she wouldn't, she gave a long, pent up breath. "I know that. I'm just worried."

  "Course you are."

  Jordan wiped the salt spray from her cheeks, and it seemed as though she was wiping away her own tears. "She needs to help him. I don't know who can, if she can't."

  "She will." Toth laid a warm hand on her shoulder.

  Jordan shot him a weak but grateful smile. "Really, it’s my fault. If I hadn't fallen through," she glanced behind them to make sure they were not being overheard, "then he would never have had reason to follow me."

  "If you hadn't, you would never have known what you really are." Toth nodded at the yellow arches of her wings. "You belong here, Jordan. Maybe Allan does, too; we don't know yet."

  Jordan searched the Nycht's face. "Why would he hide that from me all my life?"

  "He's your father, I'm sure there is a good reason." But Toth's expression said he couldn't think of anything off the top of his head. "Have a little faith."

  Jordan gave a humorless laugh. "I had faith in my mother, and she tried to have me killed." She looked out to sea again, and for just a moment, Toth caught a flash of despair so deep and strong a blade pierced his gut. Jordan gave a little shiver. Toth didn't know if it was the cold or the misery—–probably both. He wrapped an arm around her, looping it under her wings. Toth spread the wing of his closest to Jordan to make a tent around her and she leaned in to the Nycht's warmth and bit her lip, fighting back tears.

  As she stood there, feeling her weight bob up and down on the ship's deck, her misery evolved slowly into other emotions: first, anger, then a hardened resolve. It was as though the strength from the Nycht mercenary pressing against her was leeching into her bones. She set her jaw. Allan was alive. He was in a bad way but he had the most capable nursemaid Jordan knew at his side. Jaclyn was still a mystery, and she had staked Jordan with great offense. At the very least, Jordan would use any and every resource at her disposal to learn the truth. When Allan woke—–and he would wake, she would not allow herself to think of any other outcome——he and Jordan would have the conversation they never got a chance to have back on Earth before this whole crazy journey began. She needed to know what her father knew about the locket, about Jaclyn, and about Oriceran.

  Her emotions turned again, this time into a huge, swelling rush of gratitude for Toth, and for Eohne. She stole a glance at the Nycht's scarred face and cursed herself for being so selfish. No one had asked Eohne or Toth to help Allan, but if it weren’t for them, Jordan wouldn't even have known her father was in trouble, let alone on Oriceran. She owed everything to them. The feeling ballooned in her chest, and she thought her heart would burst. A million grateful words rushed to her mind, but really, there was only one thing to say.

  "Thank you." The wind picked the words up and ripped them from her lips.

  Toth had heard her, but bent his ear toward her with a touch of a smile. "What was that?"

  Jordan turned her face toward his, her lips a mere inch from his ear. "I said ‘thank you’." She pressed her lips against his cheek, his stubble scratching her mouth in a pleasant way. She planted the kiss and then laid her palm on his hand where it rested on the railing.

  Toth looked down at her, and their eyes held as though they were welded together. His wing pressed in tightly, cocooning them in warmth and privacy.

  "You're welcome."

  •••

  A soft jostling of Jordan's shoulder woke her in the dim light of early morning. The ship bobbed up and down in gentle swells. She blinked in the light of the candle illuminating Eohne's face as the Elf shook the Arpak awake. Jordan bit off a groan of pain as she lifted her head and her neck creaked. She'd fallen asleep on the captain's desk, and her hip and shoulder felt bruised, even with her wings cradling her body. A glance through the porthole displayed a pink and yellow sky, and soft light dusting the tops of the waves.

  "What is it?" Jordan rubbed her eyes and sat up, blinking owlishly. The possibility that Eohne had found a way to wake her father then had her scrambling to her feet in an awkward flurry of limbs and feathers. "Is he awake?"

  "No. Shhhh." The Elf pointed to the lump near the door where Toth was asleep under his wings. "I made some small way to help him, and I thought you'd want me to wake you."

  Jordan nodded. "Yes, thanks." She followed the Elf to Allan's bedside and perched on a hip, her feathers folded back and away, splaying up against the inner walls of the ship.

  "When I wasn't able to find a way to wake him right away, I became very concerned about dehydration and starvation."

  Jordan nodded vigorously. This had already occurred to her, but she hadn't thought to mention it to the Elf. She'd assumed Eohne would have found a way to wake him by now. She would have brought up Allan's need for sustenance very soon, though.

  "Watch." Eohne pulled the wool coverlet back from Allan's torso and lifted his shirt to reveal his bare skin. Allan's ribs were visible, his stomach a concave pocket between his ribs and his hip bones. Eohne held up a bowl containing a clear jelly. She took a spoon and dropped a dollop of the jelly onto Allan's stomach, then smoothed it into a thin layer with the back of the spoon. The jelly glittered momentarily like bioluminescent algae. Eohne set the bowl and spoon aside and picked up a cup of water. The blue glow faded slowly, and the jelly was gone, as though it had evaporated. Eohne poured the cup of water onto Allan's belly. Jordan expected the water to drip over the sides of Allan's body and soak the bed, but it disappeared the moment it touched Allan's skin.

  "He's absorbed it!" Jordan looked up at the Elf, encouraged. "That's something then, isn't it?"

  Eohne set the cup aside. "We can keep him hydrated while I figure out what's wrong with him. We can do the same with food, as long as it’s been liquefied. When we get to Rodania, we'll have access to fresh fruits and vegetables. The only food they have on this ship is meat, cheese, and bread." The Elf looked down at Allan's still form and frowned. "Any one of which might just as soon kill him as help him, in his present state."

  Jordan felt buoyed by the progress. "I'll start doing some exercises with him. I dated a guy once who was a physio. They do it for people in a coma, to keep some mobility."

  Eohne took Jordan's hand and nodded. "Good idea. If we can just keep him healthy…"

  "My sister has an incredible garden." Toth's voice made the women turn. His head was poking up from the arches of his wings, where they criss-crossed over his body. "She lives on Lower Rodania. I can ask her to make juices for him."

  "That would be so kind." Jordan sent the Nycht a smile. "I remembered you said most of your family lives on Rodania. Will
you visit them before going back to The Conca?" The idea of Toth going back to The Conca was not a friendly one. Jordan had been trying not to think about it.

  Toth nodded. "They'll be surprised to see me." Toth's wings folded behind him as he stood and stretched. "Speaking of Rodania, would you like me to arrange for a place to stay? I'm sure one of my sisters would love to have you."

  Jordan hesitated. "Sol will be expecting me back at his place. But his apartment isn't very big, and now there will be me, my dad, and Eohne, at least until my dad wakes up…" she trailed off, uncertain. "Not to mention Blue."

  The Elf and the Nycht watched Jordan ponder.

  "Sounds like a houseful," Toth began. "If you want, we can take Allan to my sister's first-" But his own brow creased with uncertainty and Jordan didn't miss it. It would be a lot to ask of someone who didn't even know Jordan.

  "Let's take him to Sol's first, if you don't mind. I already said I would bring my father to meet him once we'd rescued him." She looked at Allan, putting a hand over his brow. Eohne pulled Allan's shirt down and replaced the coverlet. "He doesn't know that my dad is like this."

  "There are also Rodanian hospitals." Toth approached and leaned against one of the ship's posts. "There is one on Upper Rodania, two on Middle, and about five on Lower. He's not a Rodanian citizen," Toth added with some doubt, "but you are." He shrugged. "I don't know what they would do for him, but we could always ask."

  "I don't think any Strix hospital will be able to help him." Eohne's voice was full of cynicism. "No offence, but Strix suck at magical ailments."

  Toth nodded. "I know. You're right."

  "Whatever is wrong with Allan, it was caused by the toxic magic that leaches from the Rakshaaks." Eohne placed a protective hand over Allan's limp one. "I am the best one to help him."

  "Or perhaps the Light Elves-" Jordan bit off the suggestion at the look Eohne shot her.

  A shout from above brought the conversation to an end. A peek from the window showed land on the horizon. Eohne, Toth and Jordan left the captain’s quarters and stepped out on deck.