Trine Rising
Page 1
TRINE RISING
THE KINDERRA SAGA:
BOOK 1
By C.K. Donnelly
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by C.K. Donnelly
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner
without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a
book review.
First ebook edition 2020
PHOTO CREDIT: Mike Harvey/Peak Image Photo
MAP CREDIT: Emily Rakić /Emily’s World of Design
COVER CREDIT: Jennifer Givner/Acapella Book Cover Design
ISBN 978-1-7350518-0-2 (Hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-7350518-1-9 (Softcover)
ISBN 978-1-7350518-2-6 (ebook)
Published in the United States by Kibbe Creative Media, LLC
www.ckdonnelly.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is said that writing a novel is a solitary profession. For me, nothing could be further from the truth. So many people have helped me for years—and in some cases, decades—create the book you now hold. I want to thank my editors Ann Videan, Elizabeth Evans, and Susan Barnes, for taking a chance on this little book that just wouldn’t die, and helping to make it the best it could be; my Beta Reader Tribe, especially Carrie, Jonah, Tim, Angela, Darlene, Heather, Lisa, and Anat; my incredible designers Jennifer Givner and Emily Rakić, who made Mirana and Teague, and their world of Kinderra come alive; my public relations representative Sherry Butler, for letting the world know this novel exists; my photographer Mike Harvey, for his magical camera and even more magical talent; my lawyers Wendy Anderson and Leia Dingott, for making sure this world I’ve created is truly my world; and a special thanks to my husband Wayne, whose tireless support helped me endure so many times when I wanted to quit. Gratas Oë!
Luke 1:46-48, 49
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior. For he has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness, behold...The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.”
Table of Contents
Contents
THE KINDERRA SAGA
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Luke 1:46-48, 49
Table of Contents
Map of Kinderra
Two Rivers Map
The Trine Prophecy
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
THE KINDERRA SAGA
Kin-Deren—1st Hall. Standard: gold field with red eagle
Trak-Calan—2nd Hall. Standard: gold field with green tiger
Rün-Taran—3rd Hall. Standard: white field with blue capricorn
Tash-Hamar—4th Hall. Standard: purple field with red leopard
Kana-Akün—5th Hall. Standard: green field with gold hart
Varn-Erdal—6th Hall. Standard: white field with red horse
Jad-Anüna—7th Hall. Standard: blue field with gold lion
Sün-Kasal—8th Hall. Standard: red field with white bull
Dar-Azûl—9th Hall. Standard: black field with argent silver griffin
THE KINDERRA SAGA
Glossary of Terms and Words
Map of Kinderra
Two Rivers Map
The Trine Prophecy
“‘And it shall come to pass that Kinderra will cry out in such agony as to deafen even her birth. The chosen shall be like a ship without a keel. Aspect will appear where there was none. Light will be dark; dark will be light. One will come forth, Thrice-cursed, to destroy. One will come forth, Thrice-blessed, to rebuild. End and beginning in one, in both. Only hope shall remain.’”
—The Book of Kinderra
CHAPTER 1
“Great need and greater love can beget miracles.”
—The Codex of Jasal the Great
“If I don’t understand my ciphers, I won’t get to be a seer. They’ll never let me choose an amulet,” Taddie whimpered, his breaths turned to little puffs of steam in the chill air of the stable.
Mirana Pinal bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brows in amused concern at the little boy’s predicament. “You were born a seer. Nothing and no one can take away the gift the Aspects Above gave you.”
She knew that all too well.
She scooted across the stable’s hay-strewn floor to sit closer to him and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a cipher problem.”
“If I can’t understand my numbers,” he sniffed back more tears, “how will I understand my seer’s visions when I’m older?”
Mirana waved her hand, sending a small current of intent to the lamps with the gesture. They flared to life dispelling some shadows and creating others as evening descended outside of the stable.
“Taddie, you’re only six summers old. I think you have some time to learn your numbers. You saw Falantir in shambles just like me. Just like the rest of the seers.”
Taddie wiped his nose with a sleeve. “Ai, but you were the only one who saw it was the Ken’nar.” He was right. Her interpretation of that vision led to the order extending her father’s tour of duty. And may have sent him to his death.
She tensed, her own throat tight with emotion she could not let come. No. She would know if he died.
The boy blinked, his tears momentarily forgotten. “Did I say something wrong?”
Ai. “No, of course not. I just—never mind.”
He lowered his watery sapphire-blue gaze. “I’m stupid.”
“You are not stupid. Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make you stupid. If anyone is failing here, it’s me. I’m not doing a good job explaining things to you.”
Taddie played with a piece of straw. “You never fail at anything.”
He could not be more wrong.
Mirana laughed anyway. Maybe he would think she thought his comment humorous.
“My maithe has us older scholaire’e teaching you younger ones to help us both learn our lessons. So, like it or not, we’re in this together. Let’s try something different.”
She searched the monstrous stable for something that would help the little boy learn the simple sum. The horse paddocks made up one quarter-mile-long arm of the massive, multi-storied square of the learning hall, all guarded by the imposing watchtower, Jasal’s Keep. The three aisles of paddocks housed hundreds of warhorses for Kin-Deren province’s army. Despite the wet snow falling outside, the bodies and breath of the horses made the stable nearly comfortable. And Taddie loved horses.
Horses. Horses running. Fast. Fleeing.
“Scholaira Mir
i?”
Mirana pushed back the particular nudge the Seeing Aspect made when it wished to antagonize her. She rubbed her eyes. Horses charged all the time. It was nothing.
She rose to her feet, brushing at the straw clinging to her heavy cotton leggings. “Come with me.” The boy followed her to the first paddock of one of the long stable aisles. “All right. Let’s try it again, except we’re going to use the horse stalls this time. Four plus six.”
Ten. It was important. The most important number there could be.
The probing sense of an impending vision prodded her brain. Ten? What the heck was ten? And why was it so important?
Taddie cocked his head and scowled. “Are you all right?”
She took a quick breath, pushing back her irritation. She didn’t want to see a vision. They were seldom good ones. “I’m fine.”
He nodded and dragged the heel of a hand over his nose and continued through the riot of pale-yellow curls on his head.
Mirana frowned. “Ugh. And when we’re done, it’s off to the bathhouse with you.” He shrugged.
She strode down the row of stalls, stopping at the fourth one. “I want you to tell me how many horses I need to pass to reach the answer.” She began to walk backward.
“Keep going.” He waved her on.
Horses whuffled and neighed as she passed. A gray palfrey stuck its nose out over the paddock gate and blew out a greeting.
“Not now, Bankin,” Mirana stroked the filly’s velvet snout, “we’re busy.”
Taddie laughed. “Go farther.” She continued past a few more stalls. “Stop. There.”
The paddock was empty. It was Ashtar’s crib, her father’s warhorse. Her paithe hadn’t been home for most of the last Reckoning. Fourthmonth in the new Reckoning was only a sevenday away. He and his strike force had been sent to reconnoiter just what had befallen Falantir so far to the north. Because of the interpretation of her prescience. Her paithe was all right. Of course, he was. He was the most skilled defender in Kinderra. Nothing could take him down.
Right?
“That’s ten,” the little seer boy piped.
Father. Her paithe.
Ten. Ten beasts. All claws and fangs.
She shook her head to dispel the image. Had Taddie called it somehow? “Well done.”
“I wanna do another one.”
“All right.” The stable boy fidgeted up and down on his toes, his face expectant. “If this stall is ‘ten,’ show me the horse in the stall of ten minus seven. Only this time, don’t speak the name or point. I want you to call to my mind an image of the horse.”
Taddie thrust out his lip, this time in a thoughtful expression. The lip pulled back in when his mouth turned in a smile. He held her gaze intently with his own. An image of a magnificent stallion with a mahogany coat so dark it was nearly black popped up before her mind’s eye.
“Excellent! See? You’re ciphering—and calling—just like a real seer.”
The young seer boy squealed with joy and ran over to her, throwing his arms around her waist. She brushed a blond curl from his eyes. “I knew you could do it.”
He grinned, turning his bright little face absolutely cherubic. “Gratas Oë, Mirana.”
She returned his smile. “Don’t thank me. You’re the one who did all the work.”
She walked over to the stallion. The steed tossed its head and sputtered. “Always a testy one, aren’t you, Traga.”
The massive stable door groaned on its hinges, all but drowning out the groan of the one who opened it. They both lifted their heads to greet the visitor. Mirana’s smile grew. So did the sudden warmth that spread through her.
“Ben dia, or should I say ‘ben nöc.’ That sleet out there is making this one miserable evening.” He shook the icy rain from his hair, the moisture making it look a darker shade of brown than it was.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s so bad.” She rushed over to him and took his hands, warming them in hers. “Teague, I’m so glad you’re home.” She pushed the hair out of his eyes, her smile not fading an inch. His grin matched hers, several freckles disappearing into the dimples of his smile. A giggle behind them reminded her they were not alone. People, presences, just about everything tended to fade into the background when she was with Teague. “Taddie, go help Herbsman Beltran with his horses.” She gave the stable boy a gentle push toward the mounts.
“Is that because you two want to go all mushy?” he asked as he took the horses’ reins.
“Yes,” Mirana nodded, “now, scoot.”
“Ew. I’m never having a girlfriend. Ever.” The little boy clicked his tongue and led the horses further into the stable’s interior.
“I’m not an herbsman just yet,” Teague said, watching Taddie disappear among the seemingly endless rows of paddocks, “but we did manage to collect a good supply of willow bark and even some callas leaves that had sprung up early.”
She stepped closer to her beloved herbsman’s apprentice. “I can’t believe you and your father stayed out an entire sevenday. What healing plants could you possibly find in this weather?”
“We would have stayed out longer.” He pulled his forest-green gaze away from her to stare at his boots. “My father’s Healing Aspect warned him we’ll be seeing a rise of grippe cases after this storm.”
Why was Teague sad? He did a good thing. Callas leaves were tiny and difficult to find. “But I’m certain it was your brilliant intellect that remembered callas plants grow at the base of willow trees.”
He laughed, however, he was anything but happy. “Brilliant intellect? I saved us with my brilliance from an epidemic of toothaches. Thank the Aspects Above.”
She lowered her head to meet his even lower gaze. “Have you ever suffered a toothache? I think finding the callas leaves is worthy of an herbsman.” When he lifted his head, she put a hand on his arm. “At least to me.”
She and Teague Beltran had been born within months of each other. And she cherished every single day of those nearly sixteen summers spent together.
He took her hand from his arm and held it. “How can I hate that pale color of snow on the ground so much when your silver eyes chase away any chill.”
Mirana raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be romantic?”
He smiled. “Ai.”
“Try again.”
“It’s better than ‘your black hair even makes coal beautiful.’”
She squeezed her eyes shut in a wince. “Not only is that perfectly dreadful, it doesn’t even make sense.”
He leaned closer. “If you don’t like the words from my lips, maybe you’ll prefer them this way.” He pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his.
“That’s much better,” she said through his kiss.
She reached up to cup his face. He said her eyes chased away his chill. Chill? What chill? She never felt cold in his arms.
Without lifting his lips from hers, he rushed her backward and into Ashtar’s empty stall—and tripped over the feed pail. They tumbled into the straw together, laughing.
“Somehow, I always imagined we’d be someplace more dung-free when you ravished me for the first time.” She hitched a thumb to the corner. Taddie had missed a spot.
His hazel eyes twinkled. “Ravish you? I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”
She giggled. “Ai.” She kissed the faded freckles on his nose. “That’s been your problem all along.” She brushed his lips with hers.
“If this is the greeting I get from being gone just one sevenday, what would you do if I was gone ten?” He pulled her over to a cleaner corner of straw.
Ten.
The Seeing Aspect. Ten beasts. Grynwen. Twice the size of wolves. Black as midnight. Eyes as red as fresh blood. Long, pointed muzzles with uncounted long, pointed fangs. Carnivores charge out of the forest and leap upon a band of riders.
She stiffened. This time, there was no ignoring the vision as it forced itself before her mind’s eye.
“Mirana?”<
br />
Fangs shred flesh. Agony shreds nerves. The Healing Aspect. Bleeding, bleeding, away, away. Snow-white uniforms stained red with blood. Shrieks of pain, man, woman, beast.
“Miri, are you all right?”
Chill sleet falls, the same sleet, the same storm that’s outside now. The thick droplets sizzle on the smoldering carcasses. The Defending Aspect. A burning in her chest, burning, burning. She must release it through an amulet. Amulets fire. Defenders. A man with silver-frosted black hair and silver eyes turns. Screams. Falls. The forest stills. Ice and wet snowflakes fall. Like here.
Like now.
“Father!”
Mirana sat up out of Teague’s arms, shaking and sucking in rapid gasps.
“Mirana! What happened? Did I do—? I would never make you—Miri?”
“What? No—he’s dying!” she said, breathless.
Teague shook his head confusion. “Who?”
“My father. I have to reach him.” She sprang to her feet.
He sat back on his heels, looking up at her. “Isn’t he still in Kana-Akün? That’s more than a hundred leagues from here. I know your mind-calling ability is better than most, but that’s too far to reach anyone.”
“I know, but I’ve got to try.”
Teague stood. “We need to go to your mother with this.”
She shook her head. “There’s no time.” She curled her hands into fists and closed her eyes.
“Mirana,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “Your mother is prime of this province. You have to tell her.”
“Later. Right now, I have to warn my father or he’s going to die.”
She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. Too many horses too close. She growled in frustration. Mirana tore from the stable and into wet snow falling in the gray twilight of the learning hall’s courtyard, Teague rushing behind her.
The learning hall complex housed hundreds of steeds and people, but in the courtyard at least, they weren’t right on top of her. And there simply wasn’t time to run out of Deren and leave the city behind for better isolation.