by Anna Logan
They were also a wealth of information. Whenever everyone displayed a receptive mood, one of the men would take up the task of teacher. Usually Grrake or Haeric would explain something—with jovial inserts from Tarol. Yhkon helped or led when he was in good humor. When he wasn’t, well, they’d all learned he was a touchy individual who required space.
At first, Talea found explanations about the lightning the most interesting. Grrake explained how they called it “electricity”, a term encompassing all the forms the energy took. He said some believed that it coursed through a person’s veins like blood, and that the wards had much more of it, as well as the unique ability to bring it out. There were other, new terms given them: electrocution, or what happened when the energy made contact with someone who didn’t have their ability to absorb it; voltage, or the amount or intensity of the electricity they put forth.
Eventually, however, information about the San Quawr and Calcaria become more interesting. There was more to learn on that topic. And, if what they said was true, then she couldn’t help feeling some loyalty and obligation to what she had only recently realized was her race.
But, that wasn’t the end of the matter. Part of the issue was that each of the Wardens paid special attention to the ward to whom they were assigned. That was fine for Haeric and Tarol, since Ki and Kae were already so trusting and admiring. For Grrake and Wylan, it was visibly awkward, though no one could accuse Grrake of not doing his best to ease the tension and establish some degree of relationship.
For her and Yhkon…well, what was that? Awkward, tense, unpleasant? Sometimes. He put some effort into it, but he lacked the honest kindness and gentleness that made Grrake hard to dislike. In fact, he was quite the opposite of those traits: secretive, sullen, critical. Being only twenty-four made it a little easier to relate to him, at least. Usually any man in his early twenties was a source of caution for her, because who was to know if they had other ideas in mind, but Yhkon, secretive as he was, was conspicuously not entertaining any such ideas.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if she should accept him for what he was and move on. She would still keep her inward wariness of the Wardens as she and Wylan had agreed, but while waiting to have them proved or disproved, there wasn’t much reason to purposely feed conflict. If moodiness was Yhkon’s foremost fault, that was forgivable. Really, I know nothing about him. So he deserves the benefit of the doubt.
“Talea?” Yhkon had appeared at her side. She had noticed him talking to Grrake toward the front earlier, but now he had dropped back to walk beside her. He must have been in one of his pleasanter dispositions, since he wasn’t frowning, and his tone wasn’t dark or clipped. “I was thinking you and Brenly might like to ride Eclipse for a while.”
“Your celith?” her eyes darted to the tall, grand stallion that plodded along behind him. Eclipse was bigger than Ash, sleeker, and as far as Talea could tell, better tempered.
“If you’d like,” he stopped, drawing the celith closer. “He’s well trained. Shouldn’t give you any trouble. Besides, if things work out, you’ll be riding celiths quite a bit in the future. Might as well practice now.”
That was something in his favor, too. He was straight-forward. He didn’t avoid topics to try to gain her approval, he just stated facts and treated such subjects simply. Though, she supposed it probably meant he was an insensitive sort of person, too. “Well, okay. Brenly?”
When the idea had been offered to Brenly, the older girl had shyly expressed her enthusiasm. No wonder, since she loved animals. Before he’d died, her father had been an animal trainer, working with celiths, coliyes, perhaps even bigger creatures, like dragons or lareers. Like father, like daughter.
Yhkon showed them how to mount, explaining that they ought to get on from the left, how to hold the reins, and how to deliver the cues that would inform Eclipse of their wants. He walked beside them as they urged the celith forward. Eclipse carried them at a leisurely pace, behind the rest of the group. Yhkon kept up a sporadic commentary with tips, facts and instructions.
Even a story. “Ash was my celith, before Wylan ended up with him. He was a temperamental, rebellious creature if ever there was one. He—”
“Which is exactly why Yhkon chose him, since he was the same way,” Tarol interrupted from ahead.
Yhkon glared at him. “Shut up, Tarol. Anyway,” he lowered his voice to continue the conversation only with Talea and Brenly, though she supposed the others could still overhear if they tried. “I never did get him to a point of complete obedience. I doubt anyone ever could. He used to wait until I’d relaxed and become distracted by something, then suddenly buck and try to throw me. I swear, he was perfectly smug when he managed it, and quite disappointed when he didn’t.”
Talea laughed a little. “So why’d you keep him? Not get another celith or something? I mean, I’m assuming you could have.”
“Oh, I could have.” He smiled, faintly, the only way he ever did. “I suppose it was a challenge to me, an obstacle to overcome. I could hardly let him have the final victory.”
“Is that why he freaked out in the river, because you were nearby?” Brenly asked, stroking Eclipse’s crest.
“Yes. He’s done that ever since Wylan took him, every time I got close he became agitated.” He shrugged thoughtfully. “I reckon Wylan was grateful for that.” The crooked smile came back. “I’ve never decided if perhaps it was because he actually was loyal to me and felt conflicted about having a different master, or if it was because he was annoyed that I’d turned up again. Probably the latter.”
Talea shook her head with a smile of her own, amused by the story, but more interested in interpreting the lead Warden. Hadn’t it literally been half an hour ago that he’d been so grouchy it practically emanated from him, and no one had dared speak to him all morning?
Tarol spoke up again. “Yhkon. Birds ahead.”
“Zorcs?” Yhkon picked up his pace, scanning the rocks around them. “We’re not in the trees. Where? They don’t usually—”
“I didn’t say zorcs.” Tarol went on, entirely casual. “I said birds.”
Yhkon’s expression hardened to another scowl. “Oh, well thank you for the warning. You probably just saved all our lives.”
Snickering now, Tarol bowed and continued with a swagger. For a few seconds anyway, before switching to a slouched, dragging gait. “Soul of a deadman, how tall is this mountain?”
“10,372 feet,” Grrake stated.
“What?”
The older Warden laughed at him. “No. I have no idea how tall it is. But I’m sure it’s the same height as all the other times we’ve climbed it.”
“In eny case,” Ki waved a hand in dramatic gesture, “I think da point Tarol were tryin’ ta make is: can we take a break, please?”
Yhkon didn’t answer verbally, but he stopped walking, which seemed to have the same effect. Ki and Tarol flopped onto the ground nearly in unison. The rest of them weren’t long in following, Talea and Brenly sliding off of Eclipse’s back to sit down with Seles. Yhkon was the only one to remain standing. He paced for a while, arms crossed. Checked on each of the celiths, running his hands down their legs, tested the gear on their backs for security. At length, he sat down in the gap between Talea and Grrake.
No one spoke. They fiddled with blades of grass or shoestrings, drank from canteens, or stared at nothing. “So um,” she cleared her throat, turning to Yhkon. “Aren’t zorcs some sort of huge bird?”
He nodded. “They’re very territorial, so running into a nest of them can be a problem.”
“We likely to run into some?” Naylen asked.
Another nod. “Especially as we get deeper into the mountains.”
Wylan spoke without looking up. “What about the Asyjgon?”
“Unfortunately, those too,” Grrake said. At Talea’s inquisitive look, he explained. “They’re a minority race, originated from the Islands of Mulor. Some now live in the Garney Mountains, and they’ve built th
emselves quite the reputation as criminals.”
Seles put a hand to her forehead and murmured something under her breath.
“So, what should we expect?” Naylen had leaned forward from his lounging posture.
“They’re thieves, mostly.” Haeric flicked an insect off his sleeve. “A band of them will probably try to rob us of any valuables, we’ll fight them off, they’ll try again, until we’re out of their territory.”
Fun.
“Let’s keep going,” Yhkon was on his feet, Eclipse’s reins in hand, moving forward again.
Talea jumped up ahead of the others, allowing her to follow close on his heels. Why not try to preserve his improved mood? “What’s my dad doing in Calcaria? Do you have miners there, or something?”
He slowed his long strides, bringing them abreast, making conversation easier. Hey, that’s a good sign. “Our system is different there, since we don’t have the classes, but there is mining of course. He wanted something to do, so yes, last I knew he was working.”
“Where does he live?”
“In the palace.”
She cocked her head, eyebrows raised. “You have a palace?”
One of his meager smiles made an appearance. “Indeed we do. That’s where you’ll be living, when we get there. Wardens live there, too.”
A palace? Well, that wasn’t such a bad thought. To live in a palace rather than be one of the invisible maids that cleaned it? No doubt one never ran out of food when living in a palace. No dirt floors, probably a much bigger bedroom that she wouldn’t have to share. Maybe even a real, luxurious bed, the kind the Vissler ladies had. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It certainly has its perks.”
Deep in thought, she didn’t say anything more after that. Mostly she was considering how the Warden’s shoulders weren’t as rigid as they often were, how his features weren’t so steely and aloof. Perhaps she’d best keep talking. “What else should I know about my supposed future home?”
He gave her a look, almost a smirk, as if entertained by her willingness to treat the touchy subject with nonchalance and humor, rather than avoid it. After all, if he didn’t put much effort into avoiding it, why should she? “Mostly, that your ‘supposed future home’ is abominably cold.” At her grimace, he grinned—actually grinned—and continued. “Winter is about eight months long in Calcaria, with about a month each of transition for fall and spring, and then only two months of summer. It’s exceptionally windy there, and there’s more precipitation, whether it be snow, hail or rain.”
“That sounds lovely.” She said dryly. “Now I’m dying to get there.”
“Good, I’m glad I could spark your enthusiasm.”
“Sure did. Let me guess, we’ll be sharing the palace with a few dragons and a plague of gnats too?”
“If Tarol counts as a gnat, then yes.”
She coughed on a laugh. He laughed too, sort of. It was the closest he’d come to laughing in the time she’d known him. It made her smile.
Haeric caught up to them after a while to ask Yhkon something about their route. Talea dropped back to leave them to their discussion, which held little interest for her, satisfied with the progress she’d made in, well, in befriending the lead Warden. Friendship with him had hardly been on her mind three days ago, but why not? If he turned out to be trustworthy, if he seemed a bit revived by some company, why shouldn’t she try?
A cold breeze picked up. Shivering, she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Up here, above the highest trees in the rocky terrain of mountain peaks, the air wasn’t only colder, it was less helpful to the process of breathing. More often than not, it seemed that no matter how deep of breaths she took or how quickly she took them, her lungs were still desperate for more. Breathtaking scenery? Sure, in more way than one. She stopped to turn and look back the way they’d come. Grrake had shown her that morning where the point was where they’d entered the mountains. Now the spot was barely even visible, and it seemed like a lot more than three day’s travel away. There were a couple lakes to be seen between peaks, reflecting the gray-blue sky above.
And there was Wylan, at the back of the group, looking at her with an expression that didn’t bode well for the amity of his thoughts. Oh great, what is it this time? Smile erased, she waited, letting everyone else pass her, until it was just him and her. He halted too, the gap between them and their companions growing to allow for more privacy. She eyed the downward curve to his mouth. “What?”
His hands were in his pockets, thumbs out. “You seem awfully friendly with Yhkon.”
Her muscles tightened. “What? We were just—”
“Becoming friends.” His navy eyes flashed to hers whenever he spoke and held, only to fall away any time he wasn’t speaking. “You agreed to be cautious, to not trust them yet.”
“And I don’t.” Talea crossed her arms, fighting to keep her voice calm. “But since there’s an equal possibility that they are trustworthy, I’m simply trying to establish some,” she waved her hand in front of her face as she searched for the right word, “some amicability.”
He wasn’t glaring quite as coldly, though he hardly looked appeased yet. “And what if I were to suddenly attack them, having realized they weren’t? Would you be able to help me without question, as you promised to do?”
The muscles around her ears tightened as she shifted her weight to the other foot. Would she?
Wylan must have felt her lack of an answer was answer enough. Simply frowning, he looked away and started walking. “Just be careful.”
Oh, great. Now he’d piled the guilt on. She caught up; head lowered. “I know. And I’m still on your side, really, I am.”
He gave her a final glance, nodded slightly without saying anything, and sped up to walk with Naylen.
12
Asyjgon Territory
E veryone be quiet.”
It was the first time Yhkon had spoken in hours, and it wasn’t a pleasant way to break his silence. Talea froze mid step along with the rest of them. Even Ki went from jabbering with Tarol to still and mute. Her eyes widened, noticing the Wardens all having drawn their swords. The rustle of underbrush made her jerk in that direction. Just before the sound surrounded them, men filled the trees.
It didn’t take long to surmise that these were the Asyjgon. Unusually pale skin, black hair in dreadlocks, all stockily built and thus the more intimidating. Most of them wore some form of armor, though far less polished than that of the Wardens, more like roughly hewn slabs of metal strapped onto their bodies. They carried an assortment of weaponry: some swords, lots of axes, clubs, and something she imagined was similar to a spear. Yhkon had announced yesterday that they’d entered Asyjgon territory and could be expecting a confrontation any time.
And here they were, at least twenty of them, surrounding her and her friends with eager expressions and weapons glinting.
“Give us your money, celiths, and weaponry, and we’ll let you go unharmed.” The speaker was an especially large man, with a scruffy beard and dreadlocks that went halfway down his back. He spoke with an unusual accent, making most of his vowels sound like a long ‘e’.
Yhkon’s withdrawn doldrums of before had transformed into some sort of arrogant, savage intensity. The first concerned her, the latter frightened her. With his eyes gleaming and muscles poised, spinning his sword in a vain manner, it was much easier to believe him the murderer she’d been told he was. “I’ll give you my weaponry, but not in the way you would like.” As simple as that, he attacked.
Talea’s body seized with fear as the skirmish unleashed. The four Wardens engaged, seemingly unphased by how outnumbered they were. Naylen was knocking arrows and letting them fly. Wylan was grabbing the reins of the distressed celiths and putting them into the hands of equally distressed Brenly and Seles, keeping them behind their sparse circle of protectors. He seemed to be ordering the twins into a protective position around them. All the while, Talea hadn’t moved. Not until she s
aw three gigantic Asyjgon barreling toward her.
Terrified instinct took over, leaving her to spectate what her body did, yet not control it. She scrambled out of their path, with the advantage of being quicker than three large men wearing armor. She bumped into something, turning to see that it was another Asyjgon, axe ready to crash down on her head. In that second she could see the flash of sunlight on the iron, the chipped, uneven surface of the blade, the dark stain on the wooden handle, and the wild eyes of the man that wielded it. A scream found its way past her lips. She dove, escaping the strike, just as Yhkon and Seles both shouted her name. The ground caught her with a jolt, seeming to restrain her, to draw her like a magnet lest she get up and away. Slowing her movements, bringing the weapons of the Asyjgon bearing down on her again.
Instinct pulled its final card. Heat surged to her hands followed by blue light that flashed before her in a shimmering burst. What started as brilliant light darkened to black when it made contact with her attackers, burning metal, clothes, flesh. She heard their cries of pain as they fell or staggered away.
What transpired in the following seconds was a blur. All she knew was that two of the assailants fled after the other few survivors among their group, while the other two didn’t move again.
Firm hands grabbed her arms and lifted her to her feet, rotating her to face their owner. Yhkon. “Talea! Gsorvi, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
She wondered what gsorvi meant. She wondered if the two Asyjgon behind her were dead. She wondered if she’d killed them. All she could do was stare at him.
