Tellus

by Tyffany Hackett

  “Audri and Phelix have done well by them?” I asked.

  Rymäthil nodded, a lock of her red-black hair sparkling as it fell across her eyes. “The town has been in good hands under Kalum’s reign.”

  I tucked that information away, a little more confirmation for what I, maybe, already knew. But for the first time, in a very long time, a tiny bud of hope bloomed in my chest. Hope for the future, and hope that maybe the three kingdoms could actually survive this. Take down the Titans. Save Araenna.

  Camion pushed a book toward me, the pages opened to a full-color illustration of Nahara. I glanced up at my friend across the table. The bright, flowing red locks of hair matched. Her freckles. Even the wisdom in her eyes had been captured.

  This version reminded me of the phoenix though. Of a glowing bird of fire, wreathed in flame and power, her hand outstretched to a figure cast in white. I couldn’t imagine Meryn like that. Like . . . like a goddess.

  “Beautiful, yes?” Rymäthil’s eyes brightened when she noticed which image I was examining. Her attention slid to Meryn, then back to the illustration, her brows pinching together. For a moment, I thought she had made the connection, but then she shrugged and said, “Nahara was incredible.”

  Meryn stiffened. She continued through the motions of flipping pages, but her ear tilted toward the Elf.

  I smiled kindly at Rymäthil, more than willing to help my friend. “Care to elaborate?”

  Her cheeks and nose flushed pink. “Nahara’s powers were unique. I know you humans treat her as a deity, but her abilities existed in this world. Her talents with fire were innumerable. But her real ability was far more interesting.”

  “If you spent more time explaining and less time flourishing, they’d already understand.” Faeryn grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, Nahara was incredible. She gathers souls, much like Valdis.”

  Meryn stopped feigning distraction. Her eyes locked onto the pair of historians. “What do you mean?”

  Faeryn lifted a shoulder. “She traveled the world, visiting the deceased to release their souls to reincarnation. When she found humans, she stayed longer than intended. You die faster than other races, so every day there was a new soul . . .”

  “Wait. No one has been released since Nahara disappeared?” Andimir asked quietly. A haunted look crossed his eyes. His hand slid to his pocket, to the chain that dipped inside, and unconsciously pulled the compass onto his palm.

  “No, or not that we’re aware of. Though, if the soul is tainted, Valdis can claim it for himself,” Rymäthil said.

  “What human soul isn’t tainted in some way?” I murmured.

  “What does Valdis do with these souls?” Camion asked quietly, staring at the book on my lap.

  “He traps them.” Faeryn frowned. “He could possibly convert them to a source of energy but, since his magic isn’t arcane, I’m not sure how.”

  “If a body decayed into the earth, would the uncollected soul return as well?” Camion sat up straighter. “Would the life energy of that body then be returned to the earth?”

  “I hadn’t considered . . . it’s possible,” Rymäthil admitted, eyes wide.

  “With Nahara absent, Valdis could leave these souls to decay instead of collecting them?” Camion didn’t wait for a response before he added, “Is it possible that the human race has been allowed to grow not only so that his son might take revenge, but so that he might build his own powers to destroy Nahara?”

  Air caught in my throat, ice flooding my veins. “He would have to know where the bodies were, yes? To gather the energy?”

  Meryn cheeks paled. Her voice was soft as she said, “Eurybia was terrorizing the southern islands.”

  “She’s trying to create a mass slaughter site,” Andimir murmured. “He holds the Imber Scepter.”

  “We need to go,” I said, jumping to my feet. My stomach plummeted when Meryn caught my eye. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I didn’t—

  I couldn’t—

  Faeryn grabbed my arm. “Do you know what you’re up against? Truly know?”

  My brows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you sought knowledge of the Titans,” he said.

  “Tell us what you know so we can be on our way,” Jyn snapped impatiently.

  The historian flinched, then returned to the table, grabbing a ribbon-laced scroll to shove into my hands. “Read this. All the Titans on record are listed there, as well as their abilities. They’re not the original records, don’t worry, but maybe don’t lose them.” He talked quickly, following us to the doors. “The powers of the three will be weak until they get their life gems back. If you stand a chance, you need to move before Thanatos is released. Valdis must have all three and reforge the Stave to free him. Eurybia will be weaker away from water, don’t let Cybele get close to you, and be aware that Boreas can spy from the air. And Thanatos . . . Nahara help us if Thanatos gets free.”

  “How do we kill Titans?” Andimir asked. “We’re human.”

  “Titans store their life gems in their chest, similar to where human hearts lie, but centered,” Rymäthil said. “Retrieve them, let your queen destroy them with her magic. Then they’re little more than strong mortals.”

  Meryn’s throat bobbed. We muttered our thanks, hurrying back to the rooms. Our bags were packed, the Scepter retrieved, when both doors to the chambers opened, Eáryn and Izoryian striding through.

  “Vaalyjyn, you could have at least said goodbye,” Izoryian teased. But his eyes were lined with another emotion. Sadness, maybe.

  “We have more pressing matters,” Jyn said, bowing his head respectfully, moving to push past the pair.

  Eáryn grabbed his arm. “Vaalyjyn. Hear us before you leave.”

  “If you’re quick,” my friend said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  The Lady of the Elves inclined her head, gaze locking onto me. “If you need the Elves, send aid. We might not care to enter this conflict but it’s more our responsibility than yours. We will do what we can. And if you cannot find a way to victory, we will not let you fall alone.”

  “Thank you.” I started to curtsy, but Izoryian lifted a hand.

  “Let your formality rest for a moment. We know what Faeryn told you, and what you suspect of Valdis. Your concerns are valid. But there is one, possibly more immediate, concern.”

  Andimir straightened his casual posture, Camion’s hand falling to his hilt. Jyn raised a brow, but Meryn was the one to say, “What kind of concern?”

  “Eythera is being circled by your enemies,” Eáryn said. “One of the watch spotted them, not long ago—there aren’t many places for them to conceal themselves in the desert. They haven’t found us yet, but your little fox companion has been yipping loudly since they neared.”

  Camion’s brow creased. “Which enemy?”

  “The Shadows.”

  Chapter 35

  I gripped Meryn’s arm. Words formed on my tongue, pressed against my lips, but the moment I opened my mouth they floated away. I knew why she had to leave and the risk she was taking to potentially regain her powers. Her memories. Without us, she could walk past Valdis unsuspected. The Shadows would follow us, the larger group, the more visible target.

  But this was Meryn. We hadn’t been apart, not truly, since we—or since I—was eight years old. I saw my thoughts reflected in her eyes. She didn’t remember the past, but she remembered me. Our days in the field behind the palace, the shared victories and punishments. A shared childhood, even if things were complicated now.

  I didn’t want to say goodbye.

  If I didn’t, though, I would have regrets. The same ones that lingered painfully every time I thought about Annalea and her unknown whereabouts. I wanted to find her, but if we didn’t find the Scepters . . .

  My heart ached. There were no easy choices. Either I saved Annalea and risked Araenna, or I saved the world and hoped that doing so saved my sister. I wanted to be wrong, to know that she didn’t need my help.r />
  But no matter what I did, I seemed to lose someone. I peered over at Meryn again. No, not someone. Another sister. My family. Valdis was tearing apart my family.

  And as much as I might want to rage and throw fire, right now I felt more like crying.

  “Nat—” Meryn’s voice was soft. “We need to go.”

  My fingers tightened, creasing the fabric of her sleeve. She put her hand over mine. Tears lined her eyes as they darted to where the men stood, giving us space. I opened my mouth, then snapped my jaw shut.

  “I know,” she said. “I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll meet up again in Thrais in a fortnight.”

  I wanted to believe her, but deep in the pit of my stomach I didn’t. Nothing worked that way for us. And with the Shadows nearing Eythera, time wasn’t on our side either. Finally, I said, “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I know,” she said. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She tugged me into a tight hug as she murmured, “I’m going to miss you too. All of you.”

  My own tears welled up. I bit my lip and tried to force them back to no avail. A soft sniffle slipped free and Meryn’s grip tightened. “We’ll be okay, Natylia. I’ll get my memories back, my powers, and I’ll kill Valdis. And we’ll be done with this.”

  I pulled away, wiping at my cheeks. “What then?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe I’ll marry Sylvr and we’ll gorge ourselves on sweets until we can’t move?”

  “Only if there’s blueberry muffins involved.” Jyn slung his arm around Meryn’s shoulders. The joke didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I’ll make an entire basket just for you,” she said.

  “That’s all the motivation I need.”

  Meryn hugged him, then Camion, and even Andimir. Her gaze danced over the group, taking each of us in. “Take care of her for me,” she said to the men, drying her face with the cuffs of her sleeves. “I mean it. I need my queen back in one piece.”

  ***

  Meryn was gone.

  She had left for Thrais as soon as we had finished our goodbyes. Andáerhyn had offered to escort her himself, to the forest line at the very least. Hoping to win favor with Jyn, perhaps.

  Eáryn and Izoryian had offered to throw the Shadows off our scent with magic, but they warned the false trail wouldn’t fool them long. That the Shadows were so close sent goosebumps across my skin.

  And now Meryn was gone.

  We had taken a room above the tavern in Hexryn, hoping to steal a night’s rest before pressing north, but unwilling to separate longer than necessary. We were moderately safe here. Most of the town was dedicated to their arena, a cesspit of gambling and drink that scented the air with stale ale and sweat. Between visitors here to see the show and the Numyra themselves, you couldn’t look at a street without bumping into someone.

  The tavern was little better, adding only the tang of blood that lingered through the rooms. It was clear the Numyra were more worried about their fights and their smithies than their tavern. Despite their battle-lust, even the forges were in such a state of disheveled chaos that Camion had visibly recoiled.

  Andimir and Jyn had gone to scope out the town, hoping for some kind of news, rumors, or Fetian. Cloaked figures were noticed in Hexryn, as we’d found out from the leering faces that had tried to peer beneath ours as soon as we entered. A well-placed dagger, threatening the right groin, had earned us an unhindered path. Jyn had wiped the blade on his breeches for several minutes after, muttering about proximity contamination.

  For the moment, Camion and I were alone. I couldn’t stay in the tavern by myself and, to be honest, I didn’t want to.

  I sighed and rested my elbows on the table, pressing my cheek against my fists. I knew I needed to be reading, but I couldn’t focus on the words. The scroll in front of me contained all I needed to solve our problems; or so I had thought before unrolling it. An endless list of Titans met me, their abilities, last known allegiances . . . my head spun. My thoughts and eyes kept drifting to other places and other times—happier moments. Anything to distract me from the unending sadness.

  Camion certainly didn’t help my focus, comfortably leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the table beside him. I didn’t mind the distraction. One of his new scars peeked from the edge of his hairline, barely visible beneath the sandy blond lock that fell to his cheeks, a reminder of how desperately he needed his hair trimmed. His eyes skimmed over the pages in front of him, unaware of my scrutiny. The leathers he wore were new—a gift from Eáryn and Izoryian to each of us. Unblemished leathers that were better crafted than any I had ever seen. I mourned the loss of the gift from Audri and Phelix, but they had done their part well.

  A small shift tightened his cotton undershirt over his muscular arms. I fought the urge to reach out and touch him, flushing hot when the thought crossed my mind, embarrassed by how utterly inappropriate the timing felt.

  Immersed in his reading, Camion licked his lips, pausing to flip a page. His soft sigh broke the quiet. He was so peaceful, so lovely. A frozen moment I wished I could bottle and give to him when times were bad. I still couldn’t figure out why such a beautiful man had chosen me. In these calm moments, the scarce junctures of time where we could bask in the comfortable silence, I couldn’t help the flood of overwhelming gratitude I felt toward him. There was something wonderful in the way he did all the tiniest things—sharpening a blade, turning a page, smiling . . .

  Camion shifted again and cast a glance in my direction. When I flushed, dropping my eyes to the table, he sat upright and folded the book over his fingers. “See something you like, Tyli?”

  The half-smile got me. Heat flooded through my stomach. He hadn’t teased me, not really, in a long while. The flush painting my cheeks crept down my neck and, instead of trying to squeak out a reply, I smiled and shook my head, pretending to go back to my scroll. In reality, I could feel his warmth even this far apart. I wanted to run to him and nestle down into it. Enjoy the few moments we had left like these before we had to start running again. Before the terrors lurking around us pressed down on my chest, cut off my air.

  Happy had become a hard place to find.

  Camion tucked a sleeve of parchment between the pages, plopping the book onto his abandoned chair, before moving to lean on the table beside me. He cleared his throat pointedly, which I promptly ignored. In response he spun my chair toward him, then leaned over me. Gently, he tilted my chin up with two fingers. “Are you sure?”

  He brushed his mouth across my lips, my jaw, my neck. I shivered. His quiet chuckle was warm against my hair, and he kissed the spot before he moved back to my lips. His kisses were soft, gentle, the perfect expression of the man who articulated them. I stood so I could meet him better, so he didn’t have to fold over me awkwardly. His hands circled lazily to my lower back, tugging me closer. I laid my hands on his chest and felt the steady thuds of his heart against my palm.

  Camion shifted slightly, tracing his hands up my arms. Pushing a lock of hair from my face he murmured, “We haven’t had much time lately, have we?”

  “No,” I agreed, quickly losing myself in those green and blue eyes. “But I’ll take what I can get. Without complaint.”

  His lips curved into a soft half smile. “When this is over, I’ll give you all the time in the world.”

  “I’ll give you the world, and all of me besides,” I murmured.

  He kissed me softly, cupping my face in his hands, mouth barely touching mine before he pulled a hair’s breadth away. “For the world, for your kingdom, I’m willing to risk my life. But for you, my love, I’m willing to risk everything. Even my heart.” His eyes fell for a moment, shooting up to meet mine before he said, “Because I do, Tyli. I love you.”

  My heart stumbled, fell, stopped.

  He loved me?

  That word I had been afraid of, that feeling . . . my heart jumped back to life.

  Ignited.

  I wrapped his hands in mine, the ones still cradli
ng my cheeks, and said, “And I love you. Through this life and all the rest.”

  His answering kiss shattered the sun into a million particles of starlight.

  Anything, everything, all the little touches and moments to this point, they were nothing. His body vibrated with joy. The intensity of his lips on mine left me breathless.

  Camion was always the one to give, to make sure I was happy. For the first time I could feel him devouring every subtle caress. I let him have them, pressed myself more firmly into the curve of him, gave so he could take. He never asked, but I wanted to give.

  Love, I was learning, was a funny thing.

  For this man, I would do anything.

  For love, for a future, I would save the world.

  ***

  Insects chittered around us. Trees loomed on all sides, birds chirping softly in the fading light. Pine and earth filled my nose. Silverglass Forest should have been a welcome return to the familiar, a predictable, safe place. Bandits didn’t travel this far north. They were too afraid of Hexryn and the Numyra, or so we had gathered from a bit of eavesdropping.

  Fear followed us, though. Before dawn, dark shapes flitted around the city. Jyn woke us. We had been on the move since.

  Our group felt strangely small and empty with Meryn gone. Quiet too. Jyn’s shoulders had fallen into a stiff line as we left Eythera, and now the tension sat clenched around the dagger in his hand as well. His nerves made my fingers twitch, itching to pull my bow free at all the small sounds that sent Andimir’s eyes nervously zipping between branches. Even Camion kept a hand on his hilt, all three watching me like I was going to vanish between them. Meryn would have known how to lighten the mood. I didn’t.