Daughter of Lightning

by Anna Logan

  Seles greeted her with a smile, Yhkon did it verbally. “Good morning, Talea.” He looked different in the full light of day and not in the orange glow of a fire. Maybe younger than she’d thought.

  “‘Morning,” she sat down beside her mother, grimacing at the stab of pain the movement brought to her head.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, stepping forward.

  “Just a headache.” She did her best to ignore him and brushed off her mother’s concern. Instead, she watched her brother, now talking and working with all the other Wardens and the twins. And of course Seles, who seemed quite at ease in Yhkon’s company. At what point had they all relaxed and started trusting these guys? She supposed she’d done the same—it was hard to even remember to be on guard, to look at Yhkon and realize he was still potentially a murderer. Well, let’s just hope they’re worthy of that trust. And where is Wylan?

  Her mother was striking up a conversation. “Do you have a family back in Calcaria, Mr. Tavker?”

  “No ma’am. And you can call me Yhkon.”

  Talea broke in without much forethought. “Are you the leader of the Wardens, or something? I mean,” she caught a chiding glance from Seles, and lowered her voice, “if you don’t mind me asking.” I actually don’t care if you mind me asking…

  He gave her a look, the meaning of which she couldn’t decipher. Whatever it was, it held more intuition than she expected from this particular man. “Yes, I am.”

  She tilted her head inquisitively. “Aren’t you younger than uh, than Grrake and Haeric?” she had a feeling her mother was entirely vexed with her lack of formality and deference, but Yhkon didn’t seem to be.

  “I am,” he said it quietly. Perhaps it was a sore subject.

  “Sure is!” came a mostly cheerful sounding grumble from Tarol as he walked past. “Younger’n me, too. Fresh out of—”

  “Shut up, Tarol.”

  Tarol did so, but he mouthed something else to Talea behind Yhkon’s back. It looked like “Only twenty-four.” Twenty-four? Well barbsit tails, I thought he was thirty.

  Probably was a sore subject, if he was the youngest yet also the leader of the Wardens. Moving on… “So how long have the Wardens…existed? Since we turned eight?”

  “Mostly.” He shrugged. “Grrake and I were the first Wardens, being given the title a few weeks before your eighth birthday. Once we confirmed that the…” a scowl twitched across his features, “that the prophecy was correct and the Eight did exist, we went about choosing the other Wardens.”

  Prophecy. The Eight. Drawing in a long, discreet breath, she got up from the dewy grass. “Cool. I’m gonna go uh,” she noticed Ki laughing at something Tarol had said, Naylen grinning a bit. “Ask Naylen something.” She felt their eyes on her as she walked away; Seles’ probably disapproving, or maybe concerned, Yhkon’s…who could say.

  Naylen was questioning Grrake with conspicuous interest when she walked up. “So the San Quawr have an army, a legitimate army. How many men?”

  “Over ten thousand, not including our elite forces.”

  Since neither of them had acknowledged her beyond a smile and nod, she went toward the nearest celith, approaching its head cautiously while listening to the conversation. Tarol, Haeric, and the twins had moved farther off, so most of what they said she couldn’t hear.

  “Elite forces? Other than you eight Wardens?”

  “That’s right. Mainly, the Elikwai. There’s a few hundred of them, and they’re only a couple steps below us. Otherwise, our scouts, numbering at about a hundred, are highly trained in many areas. Finally, we have some smaller groups that don’t qualify for Elikwai since they don’t have full training, but they have specialities such as archery or aerial.”

  Her ears perked up at the word. Naylen echoed it. “Aerial? As in…”

  “We mostly have lareers, which we use for transportation to and from Calcaria. But we have some dragons lying about, too.” Grrake was smiling at his enthusiasm.

  Talea realized that she, on the other hand, was frowning. Attempting a more neutral demeanor, she stopped a couple feet from the celith and lifted a hand for it to sniff. The creature’s muzzle, whiskered and velvety, tickled her skin and its warm breath exhaled over her fingers.

  “She’ll love you as easily as a dog if you give her one of these,” Grrake said, appearing at her side. He dropped a sugar cube into her hand. “Hold it out, palm up. Don’t worry, she won’t bite you.”

  The mare lowered her muzzle back to Talea’s hand, sniffed, and seemed to use her lips to pick up the cube daintily, crunching on it with a happy head bob.

  She felt a smile tugging at her mouth, and saw it mirrored on Grrake’s face.

  “But, wait,” Naylen’s voice snapped her attention his way. “Zentyre must have far more than ten thousand?”

  “It ain’t Zentyre we gotta deal with, it’s Kaydor. I’d be a barbsit if he had any less than twenty thousand, maybe twenty-five,” Tarol replied, swaggering up and giving the celith a pat.

  “Fine, Kaydor. How do you figure that working, for your war?” Naylen’s brow was furrowed. “Twenty versus ten? Not to mention, he must have the better fortifications, since I presume you’ll be attacking him, not the other way around.”

  Grrake nodded, yet he was still smiling. “True. But, we do have the Eight.”

  The frown having taken up residence even more deeply, Talea pretended to be already meandering away. Her mother, Brenly, Yhkon, Haeric, and the twins were at the fire. Both options involved Wardens. Where’s Wylan hiding, anyway? None of the shelters were still up—the Wardens were impressively efficient in the set-up and tear-down process—meaning he had to be somewhere in the woods that fringed their campsite. That was where she went.

  A peaceful refuge awaited her. No Wardens, no talk of war, no chastisement about formality from her mother, just trees and chirping birds and sunlight filtering through the leaves, rustling grass underfoot. Like home. She’d forgotten how sore she was, but now the stiff achiness came back, slowing her pace. A chilly breeze had picked up, making her hug her arms to herself. She drew in a deep, savoring breath of the crisp autumn air, of the smell of grass and soil and moldy leaves.

  “Won’t be much fun traveling through mountains if this cold keeps up,” came Wylan’s voice, startlingly close behind her.

  Talea spun around to face him, a strand of hair getting stuck in her mouth. Picking it out and straightening a sleeve needlessly, she cleared her throat. “Well look at you, sneaking up on me, yet again. You, uh, sore from yesterday? And what do you mean mountains?”

  “The Shadow Region is north. If we’re leaving Zentyre to fly or sail there, they’ll be taking us north, and from here that will be through the Garney Mountains.”

  Nope, that doesn’t sound fun at all. “Couldn’t we go around?”

  “Could,” he looked around as if the surrounding trees had something to do with the matter, “but that would take longer in the end.”

  “And…” she watched her boots slide out and then in, the toes tapping together against the swishing grass. “Are we? Going to this Calcaria, with the guys we thought were assassins or something like, this time yesterday?” she studied his face. He didn’t appear angry, or stressed, or anything. Not even tired, which she’d thought was a requirement of this traveling business.

  “I suppose we are.” After another moment of absorbed examination of a tree trunk, he made eye contact and held it. “But I was thinking you and I ought to…agree to remain cautious, and ready to act if need be.”

  Fighting the urge not to look away awkwardly, she nodded. “Well, yeah, that’s a good idea. How exactly do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m willing to give them the chance to prove the story. The way I see it, there’s evidence for both sides: my parents sheltered San Quawr sometimes, which would give reason for Kaydor to kill them, but it was Yhkon and Grrake that I saw. So the only way to know for sure is to see if my sister really is alive and have her confirm
the story. But,” he paused, giving her the time to think how this was an exceptionally substantial amount of words for him, “since there’s still equal likelihood of them being what we’ve previously suspected, I think we should be ready to fight at the first significant sign of that being the case.” His eyes shifted past her, toward the campsite. “It’s pretty much just you and me that would have a chance against them, especially if the twins fight with them. So, if you at some point discover something that makes you believe they’re dangerous, and you make a move, I’ll do the same even though I don’t know what it is that made you think it. And if I make a move after finding something out, than I’d like to know that you’ll back me up.”

  Oh good glory, this is a mess. She was nodding again, in a sort of nervous, bobbing way. “I mean yeah, that’s…that seems good. But…do you really think we’d have a chance? Against them and the twins? Naylen could help some but…” Actually who knows, Naylen might be more helpful than me.

  He shrugged. Hardly comforting. “We’ll see. We should get back.”

  “Right,” she fell into step beside him, with a comfortable gap between them. “But uh, you do, generally, believe most of what they’re saying? The Eight, Calcaria, San Quawr waging war?”

  “I think it’s possible. I already suspected Calcaria existed and that the San Quawr had a fighting force there, like I said, they stayed at our house sometimes when I was growing up. And I don’t see a particular reason why there couldn’t be eight of us.”

  Talea nearly grimaced. “And…about Narone?”

  Wylan paused in his gait just a bit, enough to give her a raised eyebrow and another of his keen, studying gazes. “I’ve held that opinion for years.”

  “Oh,” was all she managed. They went the rest of the way without speaking, emerging from the woods into the campsite moments later.

  “Ah, there ya be.” Tarol, the nearest to them, was waving them toward the fire where everyone had congregated. “Breakfast. Yhkon started the stuff, and it’s never a good bet eating what that man makes, but I think your mother rescued it in time.”

  “Exactly why do you make me do the cooking, if you’re so against it?” Yhkon asked Tarol dryly as the three of them approached, apparently having overheard.

  “Because he knows perfectly well that he’d be no better,” Haeric said with an amused twist to his lips. “And because he wouldn’t want to put in any more work than absolutely necessary.”

  “Well, I reckon Grrake’d be better at it.” Tarol continued indifferently. “It wouldn’t take much to be improvement.”

  “Oh, please.” Yhkon rolled his eyes and thrust a bowl of oatmeal into Tarol’s hands. “Sit and put something other than your ego in your mouth.”

  The conversation died, as each of them took to their meal. It was segregated; the Wardens and twins on one side, Talea and her company on the other. Who will dare cross the barrier…

  Yhkon dared, clearing his throat and setting down an empty bowl. “Thank you, Mrs. Andul. Now if you all agree, we’d like to get going, and hopefully get through the mountains before it becomes much colder.”

  “Will you show me our route on a map?” Naylen asked. It seemed to her that he had softened considerably toward the four warriors. Made sense, really, he was a patriot and zealot if ever there were one, so when presented with a cause and the possibility to do something about it, of course he would be enthusiastic. Not to mention, he probably finds them quite impressive. Which I suppose they would be, if I was sure they were the good guys.

  Grrake obliged him, fetching a map and laying it out on the grass. Without much interest in their route, she made halting steps toward Yhkon, where he was saddling his celith. Should she ask about the fifth ‘ward’? Probably not. If they were still going to find them it would have been mentioned. He had hesitated ever so slightly as he was lifting the saddle onto the celith’s back, telling her he’d heard her approach. Best just speak up then. “When—” she stopped, inwardly scowling. “May I ask you something?”

  He gave her a look, the same one he’d given her earlier when she’d been formal. “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “The formality.” He went back to tacking the celith. “I know it’s how you were raised, but it’s different in Calcaria. Besides, you’re not lower class anymore, nor do I think that just because you were means you’re inferior. And, well,” his eyes flashed to hers briefly, narrow and icy blue, “I hope that we’ll all be friends soon.”

  If you’re playing some game to get me to like you, unfortunately you’re quite good at it. Fine then. If Wylan can give you a chance, I can. “Alright, thanks. I was just going to ask, when will we go get the other four wards? Or, when will you get them, or something?”

  “As you may have guessed, the twins weren’t actually leading you to the fifth. They were leading you toward the mountains, so there’d be less distance to travel when we joined you. The plan is to spend some time in Calcaria, then we’ll come back and retrieve the others.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “I’m not sure. It would depend on circumstances, it’s quite likely we’d bring you wards, or at least one of you, because it would be difficult otherwise to convince the others or get them to trust us. I suspect it will be all of us Wardens and some or all of you.”

  She nodded, even though he wasn’t facing her to see it. Well, we’re on speaking terms, what else should I ask? The answer came like a blow, painfully reminding her of the thing that she’d forgotten in all the uproar of the river and the Wardens. “And um…do you know if my father is alive?”

  Yhkon stopped his work, though it appeared to be finished anyway. He didn’t immediately answer, and she went on, shoulders rigid. “I get it now, why my mother kept saying he wouldn’t be coming back. It’s because he’s San Quawr, right? So this Kaydor will kill him when he finds out? I—” she took a long breath and held it, keeping back the rest of what she wanted to say. I could have stopped it, if not for you.

  “Blast. Sorry, it’s not that,” Yhkon turned toward her, embarrassed. “I completely forgot to tell you…we rescued him. That’s why I stopped you, because I was planning to go get him afterward anyway. Grrake and I got him free, and Calam, Brenly’s uncle. They’re in Calcaria.”

  Staring was rude, but that was what she did. “In Calcaria?” her nose wrinkled. “As your hostages or something?” the words left her mouth before she’d taken the time to think them over.

  “Of course not,” he said it impatiently. “I said rescued, not captured. They know we’re here and why. They’re awaiting your arrival.”

  “Jaskol’s list,” she was grimacing again, “you told my dad about the lightning? How did he...what was his response?”

  Yhkon shook his head noncommittally. “Oh, I’m not sure he fully believed us. But he believed enough to agree to waiting to see for himself.”

  She thought that was the end of the conversation, and was about to walk away, when he went on. “I didn’t believe it at first, either, when Grrake told me. You have quite an incredible ability.”

  Incredible is one word for it. Still, she smiled a little. “Thanks, I guess? So why did you jump on the bandwagon if you didn’t believe it until you saw it?”

  He gave a sharp tug on the cinch of his celith’s saddle to tighten it. “Two reasons. One, I trusted Grrake, I guess, even if I didn’t necessarily believe him. Two…” his already sharp features became even harder. “I was ready for any opportunity to defeat Kaydor.”

  Talea flinched without meaning to. It reminded her of when she and Wylan had discussed that Yhkon, supposedly their stalker assassin, was willing to do anything in his fight against Kaydor. Maybe we weren’t so wrong after all. “Okay...That sounds personal. Do you like, know him?”

  His light blue eyes looked like shards of ice as he glared. She didn’t think it was meant for her, but it was still terrifying. The man that she’d been gradually softening to, that had started looking younger
and kinder the longer she’d known him, was once again the dangerous warrior she had believed him to be for weeks. Without answering, he finished his task and simply walked away.

  She watched him going, wondering again if Wylan’s earlier suspicion had been true. That they were pawns, in a scheme that was perhaps good...but pawns all the same. And she wasn’t sure if Yhkon was someone she trusted to be concerned with the welfare of his pawns.

  ~♦~

  I hate mountains.

  No leaves crunched underfoot; they’d left the treeline behind hours ago. At this height, it was rock, more rock, and a little bit of sparse grass and mossy-looking undergrowth. Yhkon said they’d only have to go this high one more time. They’d marked the route over the years, finding the path of least resistance through a range that included dozens of mountains, and supposedly a variety of other obstacles that made it disagreeable for travelers. Still, it was mountainous terrain overall, and because of it, Yhkon had insisted a yuley wouldn’t make it far. They’d left Rose behind before entering the mountains, three days ago. Talea hoped she would wander her way to civilization and be taken care of, as Naylen had said she would. Rose had been rather like a member of the Andul family.

  As it was, though, she had a feeling Rose had it better than they did in these mountains. It was no wonder the route wasn’t suitable for a yuley. Talea was becoming convinced it wasn’t suitable for humans, either.

  And Rose didn’t have other, bigger problems to deal with such as magic and Wardens and prophecies.

  Three days into traveling with these Wardens, and Talea was unsure how to feel about it. One couldn’t ignore that there were things to be suspicious of. That in Yhkon’s case, maybe, there were things to be downright frightened of. There was something about the intensity that sometimes flashed into his countenance.

  Still, one also couldn’t ignore that the four warriors had their good qualities. On a practical level, they made some things much easier and safer. They had gear more suited to this sort of endeavor and were far more experienced in the whole thing. And despite the fact that she was supposed to be wary of them, especially in light of the possibility of their criminal record, she felt safer with them around. Seles had been worried about zorcs—some sort of giant, aggressive bird Talea had only ever heard tales about—and bears going into the mountains, but with the Wardens and the wards’ lightning, it seemed insignificant.