by Gwynn White
An airman poked his head around the door. “We are two minutes out, my lord.” He, too, was one of Stefan’s recruits.
“Warlord Avanov,” Axel corrected. He leaped to the window to see where Lynx and Tao lived. His heart sank for them. The last of the sun’s rays slanted down on a small plateau on which a tiny homestead huddled. Lost in an ocean of forest, it was amongst the remotest places Axel had ever seen.
“A lonely existence,” Malika said, echoing Axel’s thoughts. “No lingering twilights here.”
“Prepare to tether,” the captain called out as they neared the cottage.
An airman turned a winch, dropping a line weighted with a lead ball to the ground. Once he’d dropped cables from four different winches, he threw open the hatch and flung out a rope ladder.
Heart racing at seeing Lynx again, Axel swung out of the craft and shinned down before the captain had finished stabilizing the airship.
An ugly dog lunged at him, barking wildly. Axel shouted and stomped the ground, arms waving. The mutt took off. Axel waited, expecting the noise to rouse someone from the house.
Nothing stirred.
Darkness gathered as he pushed open the wooden door and stepped into a tiny entrance hall. Another closed door barred his way. He creaked that open, too, and peered into the room.
Tao, looking as wild as any Norin, paced in front of a boiling pot on a wood stove. He seemed unaware that the light had faded.
Guilt stabbed Axel. Tao could have been free if he’d agreed to his father’s plan. Axel crushed those debilitating feelings before they could take hold. The Tao who had stood alone against Lukan and his High Council would never have agreed to terms that included genocide. Perhaps one day Axel would tell his friend how close he’d come to being offered freedom, but today wasn’t that day.
A gargled moan coming from a room to the right had Tao’s whole body quivering.
All the air escaped from Axel’s chest. “Lynx! I’ve made it in time!”
Tao spun, his face brightening. Before Axel knew what was happening, he was pressed up against a leather-clad chest, and Tao’s hands were thumping his shoulders. A moment later, Tao stepped back, grinning. “This is indeed a good day.”
Axel brushed Tao’s dreadlocks and feathers. “No guessing which team you play for.”
“You, too, I believe.”
“To my last breath.”
Lynx cried out again, more anguished this time.
“Go.” Tao said, pushing him. “If Tatiana complains—”
“She won’t.” Axel broke into a trot, headed for the bedroom.
Tao snatched at his shirt. “Wait. Take the knife.” He grabbed a cloth and picked up the boiling pot.
Axel fumbled and then managed to get enough of a grip on the pot to stop the water slopping everywhere. He bolted to Lynx’s room—and stopped at the door.
Tatiana knelt on a tatty bear skin rug with her back to him. She faced Lynx, who also squatted on the skin. Sweat dripping, Lynx’s forehead rested on Tatiana’s chest. Her naked body gleamed with perspiration in the candle light.
She had never looked lovelier.
“Breathe,” Tatiana murmured. “Then we push again.”
Axel put the pot with the knife down on the floor and stepped around them both, coming up behind Lynx.
She didn’t seem to register his presence.
Tatiana smiled, then scowled, and then smiled again, as if she couldn’t decide whether he should be in the birthing room or not.
He didn’t care. Nothing would make him leave Lynx now.
A hard contraction gripped Lynx, and she screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that set Axel’s teeth on edge. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and bent down to kiss her cheek.
“You are amazing,” he whispered. “The most beautiful, special mother in the world.”
Lynx sobbed out a cry and reached back for him. Her arms locked around his head, and she pulled his mouth down to hers. He kissed her through her contraction, and then the next one. Exhausted, she slumped back against him. He supported her weight with his arms.
“How much longer?” he asked Tatiana, feeling every ounce of Lynx’s pain.
“Not long. I think.”
“You think?”
“Only ever seen this done,” Tatiana snapped. “If you can do better, then come to the business end.”
Another contraction rocked Lynx, and Axel guessed that, given their frequency, Tatiana was right. It couldn’t be much longer now. “I’m where I need to be.”
“The head. It’s here.” Tatiana’s eyes glinted, and she patted Lynx with a bloody hand. “Just a couple more pushes, and I think we’re done.”
Lynx moaned and then yelled as a wave of contractions juddered through her. Her fingernails clawed into Axel’s neck, making him wince. He frowned at himself, angry for being such a wimp when she was in so much agony.
A sloshing noise, then Lynx shivered and rocked forward, her hands dropping to the floor to hold her weight.
Tatiana squealed with laughter. Triumphantly, she held up a bloody, squished, slither of life with a shock of black hair—the ugliest, yet most beautiful being Axel had ever seen.
Spontaneous laughter bubbled up in his chest. “You did it!” he breathed to Lynx.
Sweaty face enraptured, Lynx looked up at her son. She reached for him, but Tatiana held him close to her breast as her hand scrabbled for something on the floor.
“Dragon’s backside! I asked for a knife. How hard is that?” Tatiana barked.
Axel scrambled on his knees to the pot and hooked the knife out of the water. “Let me do it.”
Tatiana nodded.
Hand shaking, Axel sliced through Nicholas’s cord, lifted him from Tatiana’s arms, and handed the tiny thing to Lynx.
Half-laughing, half-crying, Lynx fell back on her haunches, rocking him in her arms. Axel knelt next to her, and together they crooned to her son.
It was only when Tatiana tugged at the bear skin that Axel realized the placenta had been expelled. He scooped Lynx and Nicholas up in his arms and carried them to her bed. Tatiana vanished out the door with the rolled-up skin.
Lynx smiled at Axel and pulled his head down for a kiss. “My next baby is yours.”
“This one will do fine. For now.” He stroked her face and then brushed Nicholas’s mop of dark hair. “Seeing him arrive . . . well, he feels like mine.” A self-deprecating grin. “And Tao’s, too, I suppose.” He refused to acknowledge Lukan’s claim on something as precious as this slip of life.
Lynx’s eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Tao! He needs to be here.”
Axel grabbed the first piece of clothing his hand touched—a leather tunic, which he helped Lynx dress in for modesty’s sake. “There are two other people here who would like to celebrate with you.”
“Who?”
“You’ll see.”
He hopped up and went to the door.
Tao, Stefan, Malika, and Tatiana stared out the window. A wave of irritation hit that anything could be more enthralling than the miracle happening in the next room. Stefan waved him over.
Axel opened his mouth to protest, but the quiet wonder in their huddle stopped him. Frowning, Axel joined him—and gasped. A blaze of effervescent white streaked across the indigo sky. Sparks of brilliant silver light exploded around it.
Axel had no idea what the comet was, but Jerawin, who worshiped the stars, would know. He would ask him when he got to the mines. He heard a scuffle behind him and turned to find Lynx standing in the doorway. She held Nicholas. He strode over and slung his arm around her. “You shouldn’t be up.”
“Let him see it,” Lynx said, moving toward the window. “When life is hard and his courage fails, I want to tell him he saw a comet at his birth. Perhaps it will make being the Light-Bearer easier for him.”
As one, the group at the window parted for Lynx. Axel stood behind her as she held her sleeping boy up to the light. At last, they both turned
back to face their friends. Tao had produced some mugs and was pouring out mead.
Lynx leaned her head against Tao’s chest and smiled. “So, this is why you've been practicing mead-making?”
Tao bent down to kiss the top of her head and then brushed Nicholas’s cheek with his lips. “Why else? A toast.”
Tao waited until Axel had helped Lynx, and then Stefan, onto the sofas and everyone had a drink. He raised his glass and said, “To the boy who will change the world.”
This was one toast Axel had no problem drinking to.
Chapter 44
Axel slipped through the secret doorway in his old billet that led into the mines. Before sliding the door closed, he turned to Stefan and Malika. “Enjoy your new home. And watch out for Felix’s cameras. He’s bound to have a few stashed in here.”
Stefan’s face darkened. “Trust me, those will be the first things that go. I’ll be damned before I have my father-in-law watching me sleep.”
“And doing . . . other things.” Malika looked at Stefan with a far lustier eye than Axel liked.
Stefan grunted. He looked stronger, more himself than he had a week ago when they had left Lynx, Tao, and newborn Nicholas in their lonely forest home. The rest on the airship had been good for Stefan. The gray hair would never go, but at least it made him look distinguished. More like his father. The men on the High Council would find comfort and continuity in that.
Despite Lukan’s orders to the contrary, it reinforced Axel’s confidence in leaving Stefan in charge of affairs in Treven. After the outrage on the High Council at Artyom’s death, and Stefan’s mistreatment, the Fifteen would not be open to having Lukan and Felix mess with Stefan’s current posting.
Mindful of Lynx’s safety, Axel had not outstayed his welcome at her prison, either. He, his sister, and Stefan had left the morning after Nicholas’s birth.
Over a breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes made from acorn flour, cooked by Tao and Malika, they had agreed that on Nicholas’s sixteenth birthday, Axel would return for him.
Nicholas had the best chance of fulfilling his destiny if he was enlisted into Axel’s army. If Lukan moved against him before then, Lynx and Tao would alert Axel, who would come to Nicholas’s rescue.
It had been wrenching leaving Lynx, although they had spoken every day since then on their informas. It set the pattern that would continue until they were finally reunited. A reunion that could only happen once Lukan was defeated. Axel still had a great deal to do before that happened.
“I have a war to run. You have my flag, Mali?”
Malika held out a folded blue cloth she had spent the week in the airship embroidering for Axel. “My heart is invested in this flag, Ax, and I’ll watch its progress with eagerness until the day it flies on the palace roof.”
“I won’t let you down.” Smiling, Axel sighted Stefan down the length of his finger. “Look after my sister, or I won’t be aiming to miss when I attack your headquarters.”
Stefan grinned back at him, hugging Malika tighter to his chest. “And I might decide not to shoot back at you with blanks.”
Both he and Stefan laughed. The first of Lukan’s rifles had been delivered to Maegkin while Axel and Stefan had been in the air. Stefan’s first job would be training himself and then his troops to use them.
Axel didn’t intend letting Stefan get the jump on him. Tonight, his troops would fire the first hostile bullets the planet had witnessed for over four hundred years. While he had no desire to go down in history as the man who shattered the silence with bullets from ancient weaponry, the ice crystals in Lynx and Tao convinced him his course was just. There could be no peace, no security for anyone, high-born or low, while Lukan sought to embed everyone with shockers and trackers.
Malika waved at Axel. “Love you, too, Ax. Don’t forget our picnic.”
“Not likely.” They had agreed to meet once a month at the hot springs below the bed chamber. It was a chance for Axel and Stefan to trade secrets and for Axel be part of their family. But only Axel’s closest confidants would ever know of those meetings. To the rest of the world, he and Stefan would be sworn enemies.
A wave of sadness threatened to swamp Axel at all he would now be missing out on. Not wanting Malika and Stefan to see his pain, he saluted and strode off down the passageway toward the mines.
Four hours of stiff walking through dark tunnels, and Axel arrived in the chamber where he’d first met Chad. It teemed with fifty or more commanders from the alliance army—his army—who awaited his arrival so he would lead them in battle.
Hidden in the shadows at the archway to the cave, Axel stopped and surveyed the scene. Shotguns clasped in their hands, blue-faced Lapisian commanders stood in huddles with their ginger-haired Trevenite counterparts. Chad had used the lessons Axel had taught his sacrificial commanders to train the rest of his people. For the first time, Axel wasn’t leading an army of Trevenite miners, farmers and glass blowers. Now the Trevenites were a force that would cause Stefan many sleepless nights.
The Lapisians and Trevenites were not the only commanders gathered for this briefing. Swarthy-skinned Kartanians and turban-shrouded desert-men from Eraloth, the leaders of the first mercenary bands to gather for this war, also dotted the room. Most of them, Axel decided, were cutthroats lured by the money he offered.
A bull of a man with a jagged scar across his face tried to prize a shotgun from the hands of a young Trevenite commander. The lad rammed him in the stomach, and the bandit dropped to his knees. Three of Jerawin’s men escorted him out of the chamber.
Axel was under no illusions that his shotguns and Lukan’s rifles would leak out into the world, changing the face of crime forever. Those were the consequences of war. Axel stepped aside as Jerawin’s men swooped past him with the bandit.
He snorted. Molding these men into a professional fighting force was going to tax him and his high command to the limit. Not all of the mercenaries who arrived at his door would be enlisted into his army.
As much as Axel would have loved for a company of highly disciplined, well-trained raiders to swell his ranks, he grunted with relief at the lack of feathers and braids amongst the throng. Thorn had wanted to send troops, but Axel had resisted. The Norin were vassals of the Dragon who could be punished too easily for revolt.
Axel would stand by his threat to attack the palace if Felix and his cousin moved against Thorn, but any retribution would come too late to save wasted Norin lives. Axel had enough blood on his conscience, with more to come. He didn’t need to risk Lynx’s people as well. He was about to step into the chamber when someone grabbed his arm.
“You’re back. Yummy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Magridal! Even with this delightful pick of pirates, bandits, and axe-murderers I’ve brought you, you can’t find someone more appetizing than me?” He turned to face her.
She had definitely won her place on his high command, and amongst his friends.
Magridal tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder and smirked at him. “Chenayan, I thank you. It is quite the smorgasbord you have delivered.” She gestured behind her. “But I rather fancy this tasty morsel.”
Axel felt eyes boring into him. As he squinted into the deepest shadows, a man peeled away from the wall. He was clad in familiar leathers with a crossbow slung across his back, no doubt loaded with poison-tipped quarrels. In his hands, he held a shotgun.
Axel swore. “Heron! What are you doing here? I told Thorn not to send raiders.”
“Seems the Norin king doesn’t take orders well,” Magridal said dryly. “About four hundred raiders arrived this afternoon.”
Axel sighed, throwing his hands up in the air.
Magridal grinned at his obvious dismay. “Apart from this one”—she prodded Heron’s chest with a proprietary hand—“our terrifying raiders all look like gutted fish, glassy-eyed and pale. Seems like Norin don’t like dark, confined spaces. I’m not sure what good they’ll be in a mine.”
Heron
grabbed her hand and tossed it aside. “Give my people a day, and they’ll be as lethal here as they are on the plains.” He stopped just inches from Axel’s face, his sky-blue eyes hard. “I believe I report to you?”
Axel resisted another eye roll. This was going to be fun. “You’re Thorn’s commander?”
“I am.”
Axel was about to launch a tirade against Thorn for being so reckless as to send his raiders when he needed them to defend his own people, but he heard a new voice—one he recognized and wished to never hear in the Trevenite ice crystal mines.
“My father gave us a choice.” Young Clay stepped out of the shadows.
Magridal was right; his face was pale and sweaty and his breathing shallow, clear signs of claustrophobia. But his voice was strong.
“General Avanov.” A hesitant salute. “The king said we could either be released from our oaths of fealty to come and fight as mercenaries or stay in Norin to protect the tribe.”
Axel looked from Clay to Heron. “And, of course, you both chose—”
“To fight for Lynx,” Heron interrupted. “Even if it means serving under a Chenayan warlord.”
Magridal tsked at Heron. “The sensitive kind. Lovely.” She turned to Axel. “Put him in my platoon.” Hungry green eyes trailed up and down Heron’s lithe body. “I’ll get him bedded down in no time.”
Heron’s forehead knotted, and he looked at Axel inquisitively.
Axel felt a sudden kinship with him. He smiled. “Beware of Magridal. She’s ferocious. And I don’t mean on the battlefield.” He tucked his flag under his arm and took Heron’s and Clay’s biceps. “Come meet the team. As much as it annoys me to have you here, I must confess that seeing you has made my day. We have our work cut out for us, making a viable army of this lot.”
Heron hesitated, his eyes darting from Axel to Magridal.
Axel guessed at what he was thinking. He leaned in so only Heron would hear him. “Lynx is all I’ll ever want. Forever and always. Now, do I have to send you back to Thorn? Or are we going to work together to destroy Lukan and free her?”
