Sayia’s hand reached up to grip Jayden’s arm, her nails digging deep into the flesh. Groaning through a clenched jaw, she continued to writhe about. But to Jayden’s astonishment and relief, the steam subsided, and it became clear that the bleeding had ceased and the wound was rapidly healing. A few moments later, she went completely limp and unconscious.
Jayden waved over the other elves, who approached warily.
“Who are you?” he asked the creature.
“We are the yetulu. You must come with us, son of Darshan.”
He tensed. “How do you know me?”
“Darshan?” repeated Mavri, who along with the other elves was now within earshot.
“I am sorry I deceived you,” Jayden told him. “Yes, it’s true. My father is Darshan.”
“Then the stories are true,” he muttered. “Darshan took one of our kin as his unorem.”
Jayden could not tell if the elf was angry or simply in shock. He nodded. “That’s why I’m here. To save his unorem’s life.” Gently placing Sayia’s head on the sand, he rose to face the remaining elves. “I am sorry that I lied. But I had no other choice. My mother is dying.”
Mavri fixed his gaze on Jayden. After a long silence, he bowed. “Darshan saved the elves. This much we all know. Had it not been for him, the Reborn King would have seen our entire race slaughtered.”
He moved closer. “Though I understand your need for secrecy, we still would have aided you had we known who you are. Our hatred for humans and loathing of half-breeds may well be wrong-minded, but it would not have prevented us from offering you our help. And knowing that my kin gave their lives to help Darshan’s son eases my mind somewhat. They were honorable deaths.”
Jayden was unsure what to say or how to feel. It hadn’t occurred to him that, although they despised humans and like most other elves did not care for the gods, they would feel differently about Darshan. But it was true. By defeating their greatest foe, his father had saved them all from extinction. Even back home in Sharpstone, most elves had a figurine of Darshan placed somewhere in their house and would often ask for his blessing. Shame and guilt began to run through him.
“Thank you,” was all he could manage to say.
“We must go,” said the yetulu. “Time is short and the journey is long.”
The rumbling voice snapped Jayden back into the moment. “How did you know to come?” he asked, turning to the hulking creature.
“Your father sent us.”
He took a rapid step forward. “You know where he is?”
“In a way, yes.”
“In a way? What are you saying? Do you know, or don’t you?”
The yetulu looked to his companions and let out a series of low grunts and grumbles Jayden assumed was some sort of language. After a moment of this strange discussion, three backed away and set off at a run in the direction the Vrykol had fled.
“I have spoken to him. But it will be difficult for you to understand unless you see for yourself.”
Sayia stirred. “Jayden,” she whispered.
Kneeling, he brushed the hair away from her face. “Don’t move. You’ve lost a lot of blood. But the yetulu saved you. You’re going to be just fine now.”
“Don’t leave me,” she begged. “I must come with you. You can’t…”
The effort was too much. Her voice faded away, and she fell back into unconsciousness.
“We cannot wait for the elf to be well enough to travel,” the yetulu told him. “My brethren go to clear the way, lest there be more foes ahead. We are strong, but not immortal. Should the gods send more than a handful, we may not be able to protect you.”
“What about them?” Jayden asked, nodding to the elves.
“There is a group of their kin already on their way here. They should arrive by nightfall.” The creature looked across to Mavri. “Bury your fallen. You will be safe so long as the son of Darshan is not among you.”
His words amplified Jayden’s guilt. He had been the sole cause of the attack. He alone was the reason why so many of their group had died. I should have never agreed to travel with them, he thought, cursing himself.
“You should go now,” Mavri told him. “We will care for Sayia.”
“I…” Jayden choked on his own words.
“There is no need for regret,” the elf continued, as if hearing his thoughts. “All mortal beings die. My kin are with the Creator now. You have done nothing wrong. It is I who am to blame. My own hatreds forced you into a deception. Even one so flawed as I can see that. Go. Save your mother.”
Jayden glanced over to the yetulu. There was one final question on his mind. “How do I know that my father really sent you?” he asked.
The creature’s dark eyes looked directly into his. “Why else would we come? We have exposed our existence to the outside world. Only Darshan could have asked this of us.”
It was enough. Jayden switched his attention back to Mavri. “Tell Sayia that I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait.”
After gathering his belongings, he cast a final look at the elves. His mother had described elf funeral rites to him; he was well aware that it would be a most sorrowful night. Their fires would be seen for many miles. In a way he regretted not being able to take part. After all, he was the reason their kin had died.
He approached the yetulu. “I’m ready.”
Without a word, they set off due east. The elves were already gathering the bodies and had begun erecting a small tent to shield Sayia from the sun. In spite of their quarrels, Jayden now realized how much he would miss her company.
He wondered if he would ever see her again. Something told him yes. She would make sure of it. In her final words before lapsing back into unconsciousness, he had heard enough to know that she genuinely cared a great deal for him. Though why that should be was impossible to guess.
* * ***
After peeling open her eyes, the chill morning air sent a shiver through Sayia’s body. For a moment all she could think about was the pain in her stomach. At the very least it should have been sharp and nagging. Incredibly, though, it was little more than a dull throb. Then, with a rush, realization struck her. She shot bolt upright, shouting out Jayden’s name.
“He is gone,” a voice told her.
Mavri was sitting a few feet away beside a small fire, a plate of bread and fruits on his lap.
“Gone?”
She tried to stand, but what had been a dull pain now protested sharply at her sudden movements. She doubled over, sucking her teeth. Only when the spasm had subsided did she notice that her wounds had been newly dressed and she was wearing fresh clothing.
“You should not move just yet,” warned Mavri. “The yetulu healed your wounds, but not completely. It will still take time.”
“Morzhash! You let them take him?”
“Jayden went willingly,” he replied. “He is safe. Seeing that they saved our lives, I do not think their intentions were ill.”
“They are animals,” she shot back. “Vicious animals. They are more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”
Mavri gave her a curious look. “They did look remarkably bear-like, I admit. And from the way the Vrykol fled, I would say that they are indeed dangerous. But animals…no. You would be dead if not for the yetulu. They deserve your gratitude.”
Sayia had heard that the Morzhash were long vanished from her land and presumed extinct. It was impossible to imagine how they had suddenly arrived here, as if out of nowhere. What was more, those creatures had been capable of speech; she remembered that clearly. Not that this surprising revelation made any great difference now. Jayden was gone, and had been for some time. There was nothing more she could do to aid him.
Around her, the funeral fires were still smoldering. Slowly she rose to her feet. There was pain, but it was tolerable so long as she made no abrupt movements.
“What will you do?” she asked Mavri.
He shrugged. “Nothing. Those of us still alive will go on
as planned. The yetulu told us that desert elves will be arriving here any time now. I suppose we will continue our journey with them.”
Her pack had been placed on the ground a few feet away. With careful movements, she put it on and then gave the elf a smile. “I wish you good fortune. And thank you for your aid.”
“You will never catch them,” he said.
“I don’t intend to.”
“Then where are you going?”
She stared out over the rolling expanse of desert. Her part in this was done. She had failed, and Jayden would now have to face the trials alone. There was only one thing left for her to do.
“I will go to Sharpstone,” she said.
Her grandfather had once predicted that she would find her joy across the sea, that this was where she would learn what it was like to feel truly alive. He had been wrong. Thus far, she had found nothing but sorrow and disappointment.
Mavri insisted on giving her a few extra supplies for her journey, after which she bade farewell to the others. Most of the elves were still reeling from both the loss of close friends killed by the Vrykol and then the shattering discovery that the youth who’d been traveling with them was actually the son of the mighty Darshan. This meant that her parting words with them were brief.
Turning west, she started out at a steady pace, the image of her grandfather’s smile wandering into her thoughts. That was what she missed the most about him: the way he looked at her whenever she was sad or frustrated. He had only ever been angry with her once – when she had said that humans were untrustworthy beasts. She’d only been in her teens at the time, and the barrier was still separating the two lands.
“Do you know any humans?” he’d asked of her.
“No. But the stories…”
He sniffed, curling his lip. “The stories are false. Humans are no different from us. At least, not at heart. You should not speak ill of people you have never met. You never know, perhaps they think the same way about elves.”
“Why would they?” she countered. “We have no war. No hunger. No one wants for anything. Do you really think that humans can boast the same?”
“Have you ever considered the possibility that the elves across the barrier might be different from those living here?” he asked.
She wanted to reply, but the truth was, it had never once crossed her mind. She had always assumed that elves were the same throughout the entire world. She could not imagine any of their kin, no matter where they were living, as warlike. Still, she was not about to allow a lack of thought on her part force her into giving up on the argument.
“Do you know for sure that they are different?” she demanded. “Do you have proof? I mean, it’s not like you have been there to see for yourself. No one has. It’s impossible.”
He scowled. “Young lady, I know things that you cannot possibly imagine.”
“I know that you haven’t been across the sea. I know you’ve never met a human. I do know that much.”
It had been a childish outburst. And in her heart, she knew that he was right. He did know things. Far more things than she could have imagined possible. It hurt now to recall that she had never apologized for doubting him and for storming off in a huff. She wondered if he even remembered the incident. Yes. Of course he did. He remembered everything.
More than anything, the desire to beg his forgiveness tugged at her heart. For the argument…and for so much more.
Chapter Fourteen
The yetulu traveled at tremendous speed, and despite their thick fur, did not appear to be bothered in the slightest by the heat. Jayden, on the other hand, was faring far less well. The unrelenting sun was threatening to scorch his exposed arms and face, and by midday he had already drunk most of his water supply. The fact that he needed to take two paces for every giant stride that the yetulu took was not helping matters either.
“You are most unlike your father,” remarked one of the yetulu named Morda. Though to Jayden male and female yetulu looked identical, Morda, it turned out, was female. “You are weak,” she added. “Not like Darshan at all.”
“My father is a god,” he snapped back between deep gulps of air. “I am mortal.”
“That’s not what I mean. You do not draw strength from the mother.”
It took a moment for Jayden to understand what she meant. “Oh, you mean the flow? I’ve only just begun to learn.”
She cast him a sideways glance. “Your father did not teach you? That is strange.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”
“We can carry you, if you would like,” she offered.
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He would not allow himself to be carried like a weary child on a long outing. That would be too humiliating to bear.
He tried to reach out for the flow, but as was often the case when there was no danger or high surge of emotion within him, it was elusive.
“There’s an oasis not far ahead,” Morda revealed. “You can rest there.”
“How far are we going?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Many days,” she replied. “But you will arrive much sooner than we. The blood will speed your journey.”
“The blood?”
She gave him what he thought to be a smile. “You will see.”
Not far turned out to be several miles, and by the time they reached the small oasis, Jayden was on the verge of collapse. It might have been little more than a patch of turf, a few palms, and a small puddle of water, but just then it was the most welcome sight imaginable. Without a moment’s hesitation he dropped to his knees beside the pool and began slurping down handful after handful of water.
“You cannot continue without strength,” remarked a large male named Hrundun.
Jayden did not reply until he had gulped down several more mouthfuls. “I’ll manage,” he insisted, splashing water over his face and neck.
“Morda has offered to carry you.”
He jumped sharply to his feet. “I will not be carried.”
After letting out a deep grumble that could have meant anything, the yetulu strode over to the edge of the oasis where the others were gathered. By now it was late in the afternoon, and Jayden started to wonder when or where they planned to stop. This seemed like a good place to him, but it didn’t look as if his escorts intended on halting any time soon.
After filling his water skin, he took out some jerky and flat bread from his pack. While eating, a thought occurred. Perhaps if he delayed his meal long enough, they would agree to wait until the next day before moving on. He was still trying to draw things out some twenty minutes later when the three yetulu who had gone after the Vrykol turned up. He could hear them making their report in a series of guttural growls and hisses.
After a few minutes, Morda approached and stood over him.
“The enemy has fled far,” she told him. “Even so, we should be going now. They could return.”
“From what I saw, you can handle them easily enough,” he remarked, through a final mouthful of bread.
She shook her head. “The enemy is strong. They chose not to fight this time, possibly because they did not expect to encounter us. Should they come again, in greater numbers, who can tell the outcome? We might kill them, or perhaps they might kill us. Your father saved us and returned us to our people, and for that we owe him our lives. But we will not throw them away when escape is possible.”
Having finished what she wanted to say, in the blink of an eye, Morda reached down to wrapped her thick arms around Jayden. With one effortless movement, she hefted him over her shoulder.
She had him in position almost before he realized what was happening. “Put me down!” he demanded, kicking his legs and pounding furiously at her back.
She paid him not the slightest heed. After only a few seconds, Jayden’s struggles ceased. He could feel the immense power holding him in place and knew there was nothing he could do to resist it. Another yetulu picked up his pack, and within moments t
hey were speeding across the desert at a pace that made their previous tempo seem like a slow crawl.
It wasn’t long before his mood mellowed. Though he was loath to admit it, this was the best way. By nightfall they had covered more distance than he could have managed in an entire day.
The yetulu were tireless, not halting until it was nearly dawn. When Morda at last placed him on the sands between two dunes, she let out a rumbling laugh, her fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
“What’s funny?” Jayden asked, a heavy frown on his face.
“You,” she replied. “How angry you are that you cannot keep up.”
“I don’t like being carried.”
“Why? I don’t mind. You weigh very little.” She sat down beside him, her massive girth stirring the sand. “You should accept what you cannot change, son of Darshan. Pride gains you nothing.”
The yetulu carrying his pack tossed it over beside him. Jayden rummaged around inside for more jerky. His eyes then shifted to Morda.
“You said that my father saved you,” he probed.
She seemed quite willing to talk about it. “Yes. We were trapped. Hunted by elves. Darshan brought us home and reunited us with our people.”
He was shocked. “The elves hunted you?”
“Yes. They thought us mindless animals. But it was they who were the invaders. They drove us from our homes, pushing us ever back. We fought them, but they were powerful and many. We could never hope to win.”
Jayden recalled the fear on Sayia’s face when she had first seen the yetulu. Realization dawned. “You lived across the Western Abyss at one time, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Though it was not our true home. We had been forgotten, cut off from all we knew and forced to survive however we could. Then Darshan came to help us. He brought us back to our rightful place in the mountains.” She pointed off to the north. “That is why we were willing to help you.”
“How did he get your people all the way there?”
“Darshan is mighty,” she explained. “He made a doorway and helped us through. And now, we are whole again. You will understand once you speak with him. He is waiting for you.”
The Godling Chronicles Page 24
