Daughter of Lightning

by Anna Logan

  With anxiety clear in his gaze, he looked her over head to toe. Satisfied, he swallowed audibly and released his nearly painful grip on her. That left her to stare at the two Asyjgon. Motionless, expressions suspended. Dead.

  Tarol had walked over. His face was red with exertion, and anger. “What was that?” he threw his hands up, an accusing glare on Yhkon. “Brilliant leadership, Yhkon, just brilliant. Didn’t almost get Talea killed, or let them see her lightning, or anything like that. Spectacularly handled. Couldn’t have done it better myself!”

  The lead Warden’s features had contorted, his chest rising noticeably with each deep breath. “We would have fought them anyway!”

  Talea felt the pressure in her throat, the tremble in her hands. Faced her companions again, wishing she couldn’t feel the presence of the two dead men behind her so strongly.

  “Oh, sure, and there’s no way we could have worked it a little better, taken the time to position ourselves, or—”

  Yhkon’s arms were rigid at his sides, fists clenched. “Stop.”

  “—tell the kids what to do, or anything like that. Sure glad the council decided to make you our leader! Don’t we all feel safer already. Sure...”

  “Tarol, that’s enough.” Grrake grasped Tarol’s arm, pulling him back, away from Yhkon. He then reached out toward the lead Warden, only to have his hand swatted away.

  “Let’s go.” Yhkon strode stiffly to one of the other corpses littered about them and yanked a knife from the man’s torso. Nausea sent a wave of dizziness from her stomach to her head. “Let’s go!” he yelled, pointing the direction they’d been traveling and glaring at all of them until they started walking that way. Her feet mechanically carried her after them. But she stopped and looked back. Grrake was speaking fervently, though quietly, to Yhkon, who seemed to be somewhere between stubbornly ignoring him and anxiously avoiding the dispute. Eventually Grrake gestured her direction, his tone stern, even if she couldn’t catch the words. Yhkon looked at her, timidly, guiltily. Pained. He shook his head, averted his gaze, and left them both behind as he caught up to the others.

  Talea watched him go, unmoving. Grrake’s hand settled on her arm. Gently, not the way Yhkon’s had. “Are you okay?”

  She glanced up at him, then back at the two Asyjgon. “I didn’t mean to kill them.” It came out as a whisper.

  “I know.” He started walking, and she followed. “You shouldn’t have had to. I’m sorry. We…well, that was handled poorly. One of us should have been closer to protect you.”

  Closing her eyes for a moment, the image of the dead bodies immediately appeared. Muscles tightening, she forced it back, forced herself to ignore it. “What, um,” she cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s…wrong, with Yhkon?”

  Grrake released a long exhale, as if there was a tremendous weight on his shoulders, forcing the air out of his lungs. “It’s hard to explain. He wasn’t always like this.”

  That was all he said. That was all she asked. Eventually they caught up to the others. Seles was at her side immediately, closely followed by Brenly, Naylen, then Kae, wanting to make sure she was okay. She caught Wylan’s gaze on her, and Haeric’s. Meanwhile, ahead of the rest of them, Yhkon walked with head down and jaw clenched, knuckles white where he gripped the reins to Eclipse’s bridle.

  That was largely how he was for the next two days. The tension did seem to abate in small ways, but it never fully left, simmering just beneath the surface of every interaction the group had. It was particularly tangible between Tarol and Yhkon, Tarol harboring some sort of resentment about the other Warden’s leadership, Yhkon resentful of the resentment. Grrake was the soothing factor. The one who did his best to keep the peace, to calm the irritable young men.

  As for her, Yhkon mostly stayed away. When interaction was forced on them, he was stiff, wavering. Once he purposely sought her out. Asked how she was, what she thought of the scenery, was she tired. He didn’t get much farther than that and the whole thing was awkward, but it convinced her he wanted to be friends. That perhaps he didn’t mean to be calloused and difficult.

  There were no more incidents with Asyjgon in those two days, to her relief. Once when she’d heard some leaves rustled by a deer a surge of panic had made her jump, thinking it was another attack, bringing the image of the two men she’d killed back to her mind. Her reaction filled her with frustration and, if she was honest, a bit of panic. She knew the San Quawr wanted her to lead their war, but after accidentally killing two people in self-defense left her so shaken, she wasn’t sure how she could be an asset to anyone in any sort of war. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous the notion was. It seemed more likely to her that they’d misheard this supposed prophecy of theirs.

  On the third day, as they were stopping for the evening, from somewhere in the woods a foreign call came, “Narone qu ohal jerrin.”

  The Wardens turned toward the sound, but their hands did not go to their swords. “Narone qu ohal jerrin,” Yhkon called back. A celith rider came into view, approaching at a walk. He was dressed similarly to the Wardens with a hood and light armor that appeared to be leather, except he wore a cloak-like garment and his clothing was in muted shades of green, brown, and gray that she guessed would blend in well with the underbrush.

  He dismounted his celith, advanced toward Yhkon, and bowed. Bowed? “Silquije Eun, I found your trail, and thought I’d come to see if you had a report, before I return to Calcaria.” Though she couldn’t see much of his face, his head turned her direction, then Wylan’s and the twins’. He peered at them for a long moment before Yhkon spoke.

  “Yes, this is Eun, Werrin, and Quoye and Orra.”

  Talea didn’t need to see the newcomer’s expression to know he was unsure how to act. After a moment of uncertainty, he bowed to the four of them. “It’s my honor, Arjis.”

  And so the ridiculous notion includes some ridiculous realities. She was speechless. Fortunately Kae wasn’t, even if she looked just as unsure. “Thank you, ours as well.”

  Yhkon reclaimed the man’s attention. “Why haven’t we seen any Elikwai? We were hoping to meet up with some before entering Asyjgon territory, and have their help getting the wards safely through.”

  “You haven’t seen any? Well, I’m afraid I’ve been deployed for almost a month now, so I’m uninformed of any recent developments from Calcaria.”

  Frowning, Yhkon just nodded again. “Alright. Then I’ll give you a report.”

  Talea didn’t bother listening in, no doubt it was simply an account of how the Wardens had joined them, their travels, the Asyjgon. As it was being told, Grrake explained to her that the man was a San Quawr scout, whose job it was to travel about Zentyre gathering information, finding San Quawr that needed help, and relaying messages. After Yhkon finished giving his report, she saw Haeric give the scout a letter that he said was for “Lady Meriss.” He’d said he was married, with two sons. Tarol also handed in two letters, though she didn’t hear who they were for. Somehow it was sad, seeing both Yhkon and Grrake have nothing more to send home than a report. Surely they had to have some family. Yhkon was only twenty-four, what about his parents? Or siblings? Grrake seemed like the type who ought to have been married with children, maybe even grandchildren, even if he didn’t look as old as that. Haeric had called him old as a joke once, and when she’d asked, he’d said that he was over fifty.

  The exchange didn’t last much longer, and soon the scout had bowed again, mounted his celith, and ridden off. Before leaving, he’d promised that if he ran into any Elikwai, he’d send them. Does that mean Yhkon is expecting more and worse trouble with Asyjgon? It wasn’t exactly comforting.

  At Yhkon’s instructions, they all set about their assigned task. Two of the Wardens helped Wylan, Naylen, and Ki set up three shelters. The other two cared for the celiths and unpacked gear. The girls helped where they were needed and put together a meal. Before entering Asyjgon territory, they’d had a fire, making some stew or fres
h game possible. Now, it was dried fruit and meat, unleavened bread, or the mixture of nuts, fruits, and oats that the Wardens called “trail mix.”

  “Yhkon, there’s a little cave here. Might we put the womenfolk in it?” Tarol spoke up, standing beside the mouth of a small cave she hadn’t noticed. His tone was neutral, neither hostile nor friendly, though perhaps with a tinge of his usual good humor.

  Yhkon advanced toward the entrance. “You check the inside already?” he asked, ducking his head inside.

  “Obviously.”

  Though frowning, Yhkon answered cooly, “Then, yes.”

  With the work done, everyone gathered around where Talea and Seles had arranged the “meal,” sitting down in various positions on the ground or rocks, and taking turns serving themselves. Ki threw a nut at Kae, who threw one back. Tarol snickered at them. “Reminds me of when you two were barely four feet tall, and you were some of the most childish, immature little imps I’d ever laid eyes upon.” He laughed. “Oh wait, the only part that’s changed is the height, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, ples,” Ki punched his shoulder. “Evrebody knows yer the immechure one.”

  “Me?” Tarol put a hand to his chest and recoiled, as if befuddled by the idea. “Me, who has slain dragons and battled—”

  “Slain dragons, ay?” Haeric smirked. “That’s not how I remember the story going.”

  “Well you—”

  “What story?” Talea asked over the red-haired Warden’s protest, smiling.

  Grrake nudged Yhkon, who looked up with a blank expression. “What?”

  “The time Tarol supposedly slew a dragon,” Grrake prompted. “I thought you might have a comment to make on its factuality.”

  At first he still looked confused, before glancing around at their curious smiles, and relaxing. “You mean its lack thereof. He never killed a dragon, though he almost was killed by one.”

  “Was not! I—”

  Kae cut him off. “Aren’t you going to tell us the story?”

  “With pleasure.” Grrake grinned at Tarol’s glum scowl and began. “Tarol here had been flying a lareer by himself back from an outpost to Calcaria. The lareer was injured, however, and gave out before he got there. He was grounded about forty miles from the city. Now, as the legends say, the woods of the Shadow Region really are quite infested with dragons and other fearsome creatures. So, while he’s walking back, a passing dragon decides he would make a nice meal.”

  “Yes,” Tarol leaned forward, jumping on the opportunity to take up the story again. “And that’s when I pulled out my sword. I had a broken leg from the earlier crash, you see, yet I still attacked that beast with all the—”

  “Nooo,” Yhkon, in contrast, had leaned back with arms crossed and a smugly amused expression. “What really happened was that myself, Grrake, and two of the other Wardens, set out to find him when he didn’t show up. We arrived in time to see Tarol here fleeing a lazily pursuing dragon. He tripped and broke his leg, screaming quite loudly. While Grrake dragged him out of there, I and the other two Wardens attacked the dragon, and we killed it.”

  While they all laughed, Tarol took on a pouting demeanor. “Yes, yes, but really. My version is so much better. What is storytelling if not…” he waved his hand demonstratively, “...embellishing reality to make it more interesting?”

  “Oh, well, if that’s storytelling, then you’re quite good at it.” Kae said with a giggle.

  Tarol gave her a satisfied nod of agreement.

  Storytime and general chatting went on until the sky was dark and beyond. Talea guessed it was eight o’clock by the time Yhkon brought it to a close, assigning watches, giving himself the first, and bidding them all a good night.

  Talea walked with Brenly to the cave that had been designated as their shelter for the night, Kae and Seles trailing. Most of them still wore contented smiles from the pleasant evening. Shivering from the chill in the air, she skipped undressing down to the smock that was under her dress and crawled into the blankets she shared with Seles fully clothed. As usual, the soreness from the day’s hiking eased out of her worn body as she relaxed. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t ideal, but she’d grown accustomed to it and hardly cared. As far as she was concerned, it was cozy and comfortable. The cave was dark enough that she could barely see anything. It wasn’t damp or oppressive, though. She kept smiling.

  After whispering “goodnight” to her mother, Brenly, and Kae, she burrowed deeper into the blankets and closed her eyes.

  Talea woke with a start, a wave of alarm traveling through her muscles, readying them for action.

  “Grrake! Asy—” A groan. “Asyjg-sy—” the hoarse voice was cut off.

  It was Yhkon’s voice. Yhkon was on watch. In the place of his disrupted shout, the sound of a tussle, thuds, groans.

  She scrambled to get to her feet, at the same time as Seles murmured a groggy question and Kae sat up abruptly. “Asyjgon. We have to—”

  Seles cried out. Just before a gloved hand gripped Talea’s jaw and an arm encircled her waist, lifting her. Panic made her senses heighten, heart racing, a scream trying to escape her mouth. It was muted by the hand. An unpleasant musk from the glove filled her nostrils as she gasped for breath and struggled to escape. Vaguely, she saw large figures filling the cave, subduing and tying Seles, Kae, and Brenly. Though muffled by the blood pounding in her ears, she heard their stifled cries, the shuffle of boots, the continued conflict outside. The deep voice of a man asking, “That her?” and another replying that it was.

  Her attempt at screaming, her thrashing and writhing, none of it worked. Fear drove her to struggle with everything she had, desperate, frenzied. It was useless. She was bound and thrown over the shoulder of her captor, who bore her deeper into the cave, into the obscurity of pure darkness.

  ~♦~

  He was on the ground. Everything hurt. It had all happened in mere seconds, the attack, the retreat. There had been several of them. One had stabbed a small knife into his back and left it there as a parting gift. It had been more of a beating than a fight…but he knew he hadn’t seen them go anywhere else in the camp…so why? His head hurt too much to figure it out.

  Oncoming footsteps. With a moan, he tried to get up.

  “Yhkon! Don’t move. Lie still.”

  A hand settled on his shoulder. Grrake. Thank Narone. He let his aching body slump back to the forest floor.

  Other footsteps came running up. “They outran us. Should we pursue?” It was Haeric.

  “Yhkon?” Grrake passed the question to him.

  He moved his tongue a little before replying. His entire face felt enlarged, and he wasn’t sure anything he said would be articulate. “N-no…they didn’t take anything...”

  “Alright.” Grrake’s voice was tight. “Can you sit up?”

  Instead of replying, Yhkon dragged himself into more of a sitting position. His whole torso seemed immobilized by the knife embedded there. Grrake hovered with an anxious look. Haeric stood nearby, brow drawn quizzically. “Why would they sneak up and beat you, then run off, without taking anything?”

  Tarol threw his hands up. “I dunno. Better than the alternative, though.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “But it’s good.”

  “I know. But—”

  “Haeric, Tarol!” Grrake jerked his hand toward the tent the four of them shared. “Go get medical supplies.”

  They left. Yhkon had gotten himself sitting with his back against a tree trunk, grimacing. “I can’t believe…I let them...” he coughed a little and spat out blood. “Jump me like that.”

  Grrake began taking off Yhkon’s pauldron, gauntlets, and weaponry. “You use the word ‘let’ so sparingly. There were at least ten of them. From what I could tell they were all trying to kill you and couldn’t and had to run off when they saw us coming.”

  He winced as Grrake accidentally bumped the knife handle. “Haeric’s right. Why would they just...” he spat out more blood
. “Want to kill me? Not take anything? Maybe I missed something. Asyjgon are thieves, not assassins. They wouldn’t have come here just to attack and leave. Did you notice anything strange elsewhere in the camp?”

  Grrake furrowed his brow, muttering as he worked, “I didn’t see anything. It was only a few seconds—they couldn’t have accomplished much in that time.” Unexpectedly, Grrake pulled out the blade, and Yhkon clenched his teeth against a cry of pain.

  As soon as the pain faded enough to think, the question was back. Surely there had to be a reason for the attack. “But…Asyjgon are outlaws and criminals…not foolish, though. They steal and kill for profit. Why attack like this without doing anything?”

  Haeric and Tarol came back as he said it, setting down bandages and ointments next to Grrake. “Something’s not right,” Haeric agreed.

  He licked his swollen lips, tasting sweat and blood. Something wasn’t right. Other than stealing, what reason would a band of Asyjgon have to attack them? Well, Talea’s lightning show of the other day. But he knew he hadn’t seen them carrying her off, nor entering the cave the women slept in. So…? “Tarol. Go check the cave, make sure all the girls are in there. Then the boys’ tent.” Just in case.

  Tarol jogged toward the cave. He stood at the entrance and ducked his head in, paused, then vanished inside. He burst out a few seconds later. “Talea is gone!”

  13

  Captive

  Y hkon lunged to his feet. Even if he was able to ignore the injuries, his unprepared body faltered and he fell, catching himself on his hands and getting up again. Grrake tried to stop him as he sprinted to the cave. He got there anyway, shoving past Tarol to get inside. His stomach clenched with pain that wasn’t from the beating. In the gloom, he could just make out three forms, gagged, tied at the hands and ankles on the ground. Blankets askew.

  He took a knife from his belt and yanked it against the ropes binding Kae, immediately pulling her to her feet. “Light. Give me some light!”