“Your kind is always clever. You want our help, but you have never given anything in return but empty words.” At an onrush of noise from the assembled ko’aye, Drusa continued: “Others say that your hearts may be full, but that your heads are empty, to promise things beyond your power. Seneksa says that the Naor are too many and will beat you in the end, no matter what we do.”
“What do you think?” Kyrkenall asked.
“Ah, old friend. The truth can hurt. I think that you will fail. But then I think that we will fail. The Naor and the many-legged lizards that shine and the storms of the Shifting Lands shall triumph in the end. Our eyries will be empty and your cities will be strewn with the bleached bones of your people.”
Elenai was astonished at the sentiment.
A bleak poet of the ko’aye, N’lahr observed.
“You’re not exactly an optimist, are you, Drusa?” Kyrkenall asked. “What can I do to convince them to join with me once more?”
I want you to tell them something, N’lahr said.
She nodded. “Drusa,” she said, “I’d like to tell them something. I am linked to N’lahr. He is miles away, facing our enemies, but he speaks through me.”
Drusa cocked her head.
Kyrkenall turned a palm over as if to say do what you will.
Drusa had to call the others to settle down and listen. When they had at last, Elenai indicated her willingness to N’lahr.
But he wasn’t speaking. She could feel his presence, but he said nothing.
N’lahr? she prompted.
But his mind was unresponsive.
Gods, she realized in near panic, he’s having one of the episodes.
Drusa stared at her.
N’lahr?
But the commander didn’t answer. She felt him, but the flow of his thoughts had vanished. Of course. The prolonged contact with the stone had brought on another spell. She prayed that it was only a momentary lapse. The safest thing to do was to shut down the stone, and this she did, then closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts.
What might N’lahr have wished to say? Something wise. Something clever. So much for the utility of linking with the commander through the stone. Maybe if she hadn’t been relying upon him she would have come up with a line of attack herself. Then she wouldn’t have to invent one on the spot. She remembered the vast empty places they’d passed only weeks ago, and came to her decision. Elenai raised her chin and addressed them all, pausing every few sentences so that Drusa could translate.
“We owe you better lands. Until we can help you recover yours, you can share ours. Game in the southern Fragments is plentiful, and there are many high places to roost. You can fly there and claim them any time you like. You need not hunt Naor with us.” She paused to let this sink in, and saw Kyrkenall eying her in surprised approval. She studied the ko’aye, hoping the stirrings she saw in their ranks were a positive sign. There might be other suitable lands to offer as well, although she wasn’t sure where precisely in the Five Realms, and she reasoned if the ko’aye got to The Fragments and found the Naor, they might not be able to resist fighting them.
She wondered what N’lahr would think of such a promise. Had she gone too far? Even if N’lahr might, as she suspected, find the offer just, honorable, and possibly shrewd, what would the governors say? How would the villages in The Fragments feel about inviting large and fierce predators into nearby lands? She’d just have to trust her instincts and deal with the consequences. She was Altenerai, it was her duty not just to uphold the laws—which certainly included honoring oaths and agreements—but to protect her people and their lands. And the Fragments were apt to be much safer if they included ko’aye as a buffer against the Naor. Alantrans would be foolish to object to the arrival of potential allies, although she thought she’d best clarify an important point. “All we ask is that you keep from people and our herd animals.”
The ko’aye began to talk among themselves, then hushed as she raised a hand, understanding she had more. “Right now, the Naor are in The Fragments. But we will drive them away. If you want to help us, we shall drive them faster, but we will succeed, and the skies are yours regardless.There is plenty to eat and enjoy whether you engage or avoid our shared enemy.”
The moment Drusa completed speaking upon her behalf, she lowered her hand, and then the ko’aye talked even more vociferously.
“Nicely said,” Kyrkenall told her softly.
“N’lahr froze up,” she said. “I think the damned stone is hurting him.”
“What?” Kyrkenall hissed quietly. His eyes widened. “You mean just now? Or before you spoke?”
“Right before I spoke. I sure hope he likes my offer, because I have no idea what he was going to say.”
“I like it,” Kyrkenall emphasized, and then to Drusa, watching them, he said, “and we will honor it.” To Elenai: “Is he going to be all right?”
“I hope so.”
“What is this you talk about?” Drusa asked, her head beside theirs.
“Great sorcery caused troubles for us while Elenai was speaking for N’lahr,” Kyrkenall answered.
Drusa’s head bobbed. Elenai thought that she might be more concerned about the interchange, but the ko’aye had apparently been listening to the chatter above. “You have convinced some of them that you value us, and you regret the past, and you bring news of help to us,” Drusa said, then halted. “Seneksa speaks.” The animal lifted her head, turning it as the ko’aye settled and their leader, golden Seneksa, spoke alone.
“He says,” Drusa told them, “that they have decided. You can stay and rest after your long journey, in honor of the bond we once shared. We were comrades, once.”
Kyrkenall spoke quickly. “We are comrades now, if you would have us.”
Drusa translated this and then the leader’s response. “We do not think so.” Behind Seneksa the others squabbled.
Drusa leaned her head toward Kyrkenall and spoke softly. “You should not have interrupted.” She then lifted her head once more, and conveyed the leader’s final words: “Make no mistake. Some believe you speak the truth. But no one can trust that you have the power to deliver what you promise. You wish us to fight at your side again, and that cannot be. Go now, and rest, and you may leave after a sleeping cycle. Our audience is done.”
Seneksa unfurled his wings, beat them once, and then soared skyward. After a moment, the other ko’aye rose with him. Others chirped, and the air was full with not just their feathered bodies, but their calls, so it seemed they were in the world’s largest aviary.
Drusa remained grounded beside them. “Come with me. There are low caves you might find comfortable.”
A trio of ko’aye flapped overhead, only ten feet above, and the one in the lead let out a piercing cry, slashing the air with one taloned leg in what was clearly a threat.
“I don’t recommend staying very long,” Drusa said as she turned her shoulder to them.
14
Words from Afar
Drusa led them to a large half-moon opening lower down the cliff face. Elenai eyed it skeptically. They’d still have to scale almost seven feet of sheer gray rock to reach it.
“This should do,” Kyrkenall said to Drusa. “Thank you.”
The ko’aye bobbed her head. “I think you are troubled. But I think it went better than it might have.”
“Drusa,” Kyrkenall said frankly, “I need your help with this. The Naor thought N’lahr was dead, and it made them bold. They found huge ko’aye that they ride and use to attack our walls.”
“The Naor have captured ko’aye?” Drusa rustled her wings and her eyes burned with inner fire. “How can this be?”
“We don’t know,” Kyrkenall answered.
“This is a terrible thing,” Drusa said, and let out a shrill call. “You should earlier have said this! Are these some of our flock that we thought dead?”
Elenai spoke quickly. “Drusa, I don’t think that these are ko’aye like you. And I’m sure that t
hey’re not your friends. They’re described as far larger, and can destroy walls with their roars.”
Drusa’s head lowered and she peered at Elenai. “These are strange tidings,” she said. “I will bring these words to my friends. There is already much to talk about.”
Elenai nodded once in appreciation.
“Tell me, Elenai. Are you mated?”
“No.” Why had the ko’aye asked that of her? “It’s not really on my priority list right now.”
“You must be young. Although you look of an age to be thinking it. Kyrkenall could be your mate, since he has lost his, and you are both warriors of the ring. Also you have clear sight, which he sometimes lacks.”
Elenai smirked.
Kyrkenall’s response was dry. “We’ll take that under advisement.”
Drusa returned her attention to him. “I’ll talk to some that were more interested in your words. A number were excited by thoughts of better places today. Especially younger ones. You will leave in the morning?”
“Yes. N’lahr needs our help. The battle with Naor in The Fragements must start soon.”
“If I have news for you, I will bring it. It was good to be with you once more, Kyrkenall.”
“I’m glad of that myself.”
They concluded their meeting with a ritual head bob, and then Drusa lowered her neck and turned. Elenai watched her walk farther out and spread her wings, then head to the left and out of sight as she prepared to seek the air.
Kyrkenall turned to her. “Is N’lahr all right now?”
“I don’t know. I closed the stone, hoping that might snap him out of it. He’d told me earlier he wasn’t having as many of the slowing moments and wondered if it was because he was so far away from the stone.”
Kyrkenall cursed. “The only way to find out if he’s all right is to use the thing that might be turning him into a statue.”
“Do you think I should risk it?”
Kyrkenall hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Not until we have something to tell him.”
She nodded at that.
“I’m going to get our bedding and tell Ortok what’s going on.”
“You’re not bringing him in here?”
“First, I’m pretty sure the invite didn’t extend to him. Second, someone’s got to watch the horses. And third, there’s no way that the horses would be comfortable here. Not when the whole place smells like giant horse-eating predators.”
It seemed rude to leave their kobalin ally alone with the animals, as though they didn’t think him worthy of their company. “Maybe we should stay with Ortok, then.”
Kyrkenall’s brows rose and he quickly shook his head. “I’ll explain later. Why don’t you look over our accomodations?” He gestured farewell.
She suspected that he feared insulting the ko’aye by refusing their hospitality.
She willed her ring into life and extended her senses. There seemed nothing but tiny insects living within the cave above, which didn’t especially surprise her. She’d hardly expected the ko’aye to keep a pet monster handy for devouring invited guests. There was nothing wrong, though, with being cautious.
She studied the cave entrance, walked beneath its six-foot opening until she found a spot where there was an overhanging lip no longer than her thumb, but wide as her arm. Reaching it would be simple with magic, but she wanted to conserve her own power and resist the temptation to employ her hearthstone. And so she crouched and sprang and caught the ledge with both hands. Elenai knew she didn’t have exceptional upper body strength, but she was fit enough to pull herself up, after which she knelt along the rim peering into the darkness both with her sight and the enhanced senses of the ring.
Weak daylight flowed from over the cliff wall and into the cave, illuminating little past the first four feet, enough to show her a curiously smooth floor. To her left and right the ceiling sloped, but there were easily eight feet in the center that permitted her to stand fully upright.
Still willing her ring of office to light, she advanced into the space, discovering that the cave stretched back only twenty feet before sloping sharply down to the floor.
She walked all along the wall, judging quickly that the place was secure, then returned to the entrance and waited for Kyrkenall. He was nowhere in sight.
He was a while coming, and during his absence she reached into her satchel to touch N’lahr’s broken hearthstone fragment. What if he was sitting frozen and still in The Fragments right now? The urge to contact him and check on him was almost overwhelming.
But suppose he was fine now, and contacting him would progress the freezing episodes?
She decided to wait, and hope for the best. Just as she might have to do with the ko’aye. She couldn’t for the life of her think of anything more she might have said, and wondered if N’lahr had been planning something more clever. Having seen him in action, the answer was probably yes.
She found herself staring at her ring and wondering whether she’d actually thought life would be more rewarding once she wore it. The acclaim and respect she’d so wanted didn’t mean as much as she had expected. Instead of joy, she was weighted with responsibility, and worry.
When Kyrkenall returned, he brought a small supply of firewood, as well as both sets of saddlebags. He refused her offer of assistance and, after tossing up the supplies, scrambled to her level with ease.
“How’s the cave?” he asked.
“Secure.”
“I bet the winds are cold when night comes.” He set to erecting a little timber pyramid near the cave opening, occasionally glancing out toward the stone columns and the cliff faces. From where they sat it was impossible to see any of the ko’aye or their ledges, but they heard them calling to one another.
“It always impressed me how quickly they picked up our language,” Kyrkenall said as he worked. “I didn’t want to insult Ortok any more than you did, but we might have insulted the ko’aye if we hadn’t accepted the offer of hospitality.”
“I thought it was something like that.”
He poured water out of two spare waterskins and into the eelskin bowl he sometimes used to water the horses. “I filled these up at the water hole,” he explained. “Thought it might be nice to freshen up a bit.”
“It surely would.”
Silence settled between them as they washed, until he cleared his throat. “You’re a funny mix still.”
“What do you mean?”
He gestured to her. “You’re all unsure and full of questions, but then you turn up something clever in a flash.” He snapped his fingers. “You shouldn’t let me treat you like a squire. You earned that ring. Don’t act like one, either.”
“I still have a lot to learn.”
“Don’t we all? I think I need to pay more attention to your counsel. There have been enough clues about that all along. Maybe if we’d talked sooner I could’ve started with that grand gesture you gave them, then apologized.”
And this, she supposed, was the closest she was going to get to an apology from him. It was the least of her worries. “Do you think Drusa can get through to them?”
Kyrkenall reached back into his saddlebags and pulled out flint and steel before crouching by the tinder he’d spread under the firewood. “All we can do now is hope. We only need a few of them, and if they’re swayed by your offer of the skies in The Fragments, enough of them might fly there that the most vengeful will take up the fight. But I can’t predict what they’ll do. I’m not N’lahr. I don’t win every battle.”
“You’ve won every battle I’ve seen.”
He paused in striking, then half looked back at her. “Have I?” He sounded surprised. “Sometimes I think I just stumble along, trying to shake out the answers rather than actually knowing what’s there to find.” Three quick, precise strikes set a spark into the tinder. He cupped his hands and blew on it and the flame took hold and blossomed along one of the dry bits of firewood.
She shook her head a little at the eas
e with which he’d accomplished his task.
He reached behind him and brought forth a wine bottle and brandished it. “I brought this in case we had something to celebrate. Like a victory. But I’m declaring it a victory that they didn’t just kill us outright. I think some of them wanted to.”
Elenai thought some of them still did. “Is that your favorite wine?”
“Don’t worry. I brought one for me, too. This is one your father said you liked.”
She advanced and knelt beside him, saw to her surprise that it was a long, slim bottle with violet liquid. And despite herself, she was touched that he’d thought ahead on her behalf. “That was decent of you. I don’t think we should get drunk, though.”
“Who can get drunk on a single bottle of wine?” He saw her look and then laughed. “Are you that much of a lightweight?” He handed her the bottle. “Just take a few sips then. I’m going to start work on our food.”
While he cooked, she washed her hands and face and her waist, where the grit bothered her most. Her companion fixed up his favorite road meal of griddle cakes with honey, then quickly roasted two handfuls of nuts before warming up the jerky.
They ate together as dusk crept outside the cave, shadowed by night, and she was glad for the fire, for the temperature was already dropping. And the wine, well, that was a bittersweet reminder of home and her youth and of impossibly long golden evenings that had once stretched on forever.
Kyrkenall moved over to do his own washing, then returned to finish the handful of nuts, staring out past the fire.
It was impossible not to notice how very lovely he was in profile. She wondered whether he was brooding about the ko’aye, or N’lahr, or Kalandra. Or even something else. There was an awful lot he might be troubled about.
“You’re staring at me.”
Upon the Flight of the Queen Page 27
