“Move him as gently as possible,” she instructed, ‘his ribs are broken. If he gets jolted about and they puncture his lung or heart we won’t have a prayer of saving him.”
The four soldiers looked at Calistra, as if asking for permission to obey.
“Listen to the girl!” Calistra told them exasperatedly, “It’s not like she told you something you shouldn’t have already been expecting! Bring him this way and set him down in here.”
The soldiers followed her slowly down the hall a short ways, to the first empty room, and set the stretcher down atop a bed. “Go get hot water and rags. And bring one of the healers in here NOW!” Calistra told the soldiers, waving them out of the room.
She turned to Sukylar. “What happened to him? How long has he been like this?”
Sukylar took a shuddering breath and Ky’ara was surprised to see that tears were running down his face. “About two days ago we were attacked by Ungh trolls. There were only the two of us and there were nine or ten of them at least. We managed to get most of them…but then one of them broke his axe. I couldn’t hold off the remaining three on my own, I was too worn out…they’re so strong.” He shook his head. “I thought I was done for after that, but Jeorj just kept on fighting without any weapon at all. He managed to break one’s neck, and then he attacked the other while I was busy with the third. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ky’ara shuddered. Jeorj had wrestled not only one, but two of the largest, most ferocious monsters to walk their land and he had killed them. No one could survive an ordeal like that, but somehow, here he was, still breathing, after two days of being jolted around in a saddle. It was nothing short of a miracle.
“How did you get him here?” she asked, as the thought suddenly occurred to her. Sukylar shrugged. “I’m not sure how I lifted him, but I managed to get him onto his horse, and then I led it here as fast as I could.”
Ky’ara shook her head. It was certainly a miracle that he was still alive, but even more of a miracle that his lungs were still intact.
“We’re going to have to give him some extra energy,” Calistra said suddenly, after listening carefully to the stuttering beat of his heart. “He’s used up all of his fighting the pain and his heartbeat is too weak.”
Ky’ara nodded and gently placed a hand on the wounded man’s chest. Calistra put both her hands on either side of his head and began to mutter an incantation, her eyes closed. The heartbeat under Ky’ara’s hand strengthened and she slowly pushed some of her power into him, specifically targeting his ribs to begin the healing process and prevent his lung from being damaged. Then she focused on his side, closing the open wound to prevent him from losing any more blood.
Calistra opened her eyes and finished off her spell, standing shakily from the effort. Ky’ara stood carefully, a brief wave of nausea passing through her. Just then the door opened and two healers came in, carrying bandages and rags and followed by two soldiers with basins of steaming water.
“We can go now.” Calistra motioned Sukylar and Ky’ara out the door. “They can take care of the rest; we’d only be in the way.”
Sukylar followed them reluctantly out into the hallway and closed the door. “Trolls are wandering all around the plains down there. They haven’t made it up into these mountains yet, but they seem to be looking for something. I think they know we’re here; they’re just not exactly sure where,” he told Calistra worriedly.
She waved this away with a hand. “I’m not worried about them getting in here. This city is well hidden and there is no way anyone can get in unless we let them. They can’t get through our defenses here like they did at Ainon Caseia because they’d have to bring down the whole mountain and that would cause earthquakes all over Tiem. They won’t risk it yet. We have time here. But we should send out a patrol to protect travelers…I’ll have to see if the Shaari will do it; they can cover a lot more ground with their dragons to scout for them…”
Ky’ara listened silently. They might have time, but she didn’t. The book of prophecy was becoming clearer and clearer, and it was nearly time for her to make her move. She just wished she knew what that was supposed be.
* * * * *
The ball was a singular occasion. Tapestries and cloth buttresses of deep blue and silver draped elegantly from the walls. A once ordinary chandelier had been enchanted to shine all night long, shedding sparkles of light over the entire dance floor. Long tables laid out with ordinary foods made to look fancy were pushed to the side, while chairs lined the edges of the room. A band played from an improvised stage and couples whirled elegantly to the music.
The guests were from everywhere the rebellion had a foothold in the realm. Hallahna’s entire clan had been specially invited and their dragons flew playfully overhead, their scales gleaming. A scattering of Elysians were there as well, though they kept mostly to themselves. All of the so-called ‘officers’ in the rebel army were present and anyone else who was important at all had showed up. It only served to make Ky’ara more nervous than she already was.
Calistra had insisted that she wait out in the hallway while the ball got underway, so she could make a grand entrance. So here she was, waiting anxiously outside the ballroom in what was possibly the most beautiful dress she ever could have imagined. It reminded her all too well of the court parties she had attended back in Coledria. She fervently hoped that Calistra had enough sense to realize that most of the guests weren’t used to this kind of thing—boring her new allies to tears with long speeches would be a very bad move.
The music suddenly halted and Ky’ara could hear people whispering quietly until someone (presumably Calistra) cleared her throat.
“I would like to thank all of you for coming and I especially extend a warm welcome to all our guests who traveled long and far to reach us tonight. As most of you know, we are gathered here to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of a very special person.” Calistra’s voice was slightly muffled through the door, but Ky’ara still blushed as the rebel leader explained her role in saving Ainon Caseia and extolled her many virtues. Finally the speech began to draw to a close. “Lords and ladies, captains, commoners, and honored guests, I present to you my dear friend…Ky’ara Reinea Eleserpri Si Lafeno!”
The double doors opened wide and the band struck up a song as Ky’ara descended the wide stairway into the room.
* * * * *
Taren looked up as Ky’ara entered, a satisfied smile on his face. She was radiant tonight in a ball gown of layered indigo taffeta. The skirt was full and swished quietly as Ky’ara walked across the cold stone floor. Silver embroidery decorated the left side of the bodice and ended with a rose where the outer layers of fabric were parted to reveal the smooth silver satin underneath. Her hair was held back elegantly with two silver combs, and the auburn curls cascaded down her back nearly to her waist.
The music changed as Ky’ara came near the center of the dance floor and people receded back to the edges of the room rather than crowding around to see her. When she reached him, Ky’ara dipped in a graceful curtsy and Taren bowed slightly, holding out his hand to her.
“May I have this dance?”
Ky’ara nodded shortly and he could see her mouth tighten slightly. She had insisted that she would not, could not, dance, but Calistra had overruled her. Taren and Ky’ara were to start one dance just after her entrance, then she was free to talk to the other guests and socialize—but she would dance that first dance. She’d found excuses to miss every dancing lesson Calistra had tried to set up, but Joran’s sister had insisted that the plan would go forward. Hopefully she wouldn’t embarrass herself too much.
Taking her satin-gloved hands in his own, Taren led Ky’ara farther out onto the floor—and they began to dance. Ky’ara’s slightly fearful look faded to one of puzzlement as they glided smoothly across the dance floor, perfectly in time to the music, and without even the slightest stumble. Taren grinned at her confusion.
“See—you can too dance,”
he teased in a low voice.
“But I can’t…I’ve never been able to without stepping on my partner’s feet or tripping or…” she protested.
Taren shook his head and gently made her twirl and then spin back into his arms without missing a beat. “You just never had the right partner,” he told her, enjoying the look of surprise she gave him. “Men nowadays probably just don’t know how to lead.”
Other couples joined them on the dance floor and soon the first song ended. Taren led her from the center of the room and she was quickly surrounded by guests (most of whom she didn’t even know) who had come to wish her a happy birthday.
* * * * *
Calistra stood observing her handiwork. Yes, the ball was quite a success, in her eyes at least. Everyone loved Ky’ara—the Shaari warriors held her in very high regard because they identified her as an Ysinkai, the soldiers nearly worshiped her after the rumors that had spread about her part in the defense of Ainon Caseia, and the commoners (the ones who had met her anyways) had all commented on how very sensible she was—for a noble. The Elders here in Doraicole had expressed their concerns about her relationship to the now-deceased Overseer of the King’s Council, but they seemed to be coming around. Even the Elysians seemed to have taken to her, though it was hard to be sure.
That was a huge relief. Inviting the few Elysians nearby had been a gamble. Elysians were a strange race of people who lived high in the mountains. They spent all their time training and meditating, and rarely left their sanctuaries for the rest of the world. She wasn’t afraid that anyone would provoke them into anything—unlike the Shaari they hardly ever lost their tempers or openly took offense. No, she was just afraid that if she pushed too hard for their help or asked at the wrong time, they would refuse to have anything to do with the rebellion. They’d already involved themselves occasionally, on an individual basis, but getting them as a group would be difficult. They liked to keep to themselves…but her gamble had paid off it seemed. Ky’ara had danced with at least one of them and she and Sukylar had been talking to a group of some others not too long ago.
Now Ky’ara was on the dance floor once more (despite her dire predictions that she would hate it, she had spent at least half the night dancing with Taren, and she looked like she was enjoying it). Thankfully, Hallahna seemed to be having fun as well, which was good. Her fellow tribesmen and women had shown up only a day ago and there had been some sort of ruckus over why her father had chosen not to accompany them. She had entered earlier that night with a scowl darker than shale, dressed in an exotic scarlet gown so bright it made your eyes water to look at it for too long. Her shoulder length hair (for once) was down. At the moment she was smiling and standing near one of the food tables, right next to Amischel and Jeorj.
A smile crossed Calistra’s face at the thought of those two. It was too soon to say for sure, but she thought there just might be something there. Jeorj had spent the last few weeks confined to his bed, bandaged and forced to drink foul tasting medicine every few hours. Unexpectedly, Amischel had spent much of the time there with him, mopping his forehead with a wet cloth, helping the healers to change his bandages, and bringing him food when he was hungry. Tonight he had insisted on coming (if only as an excuse to be allowed out of bed) and Amischel had just as firmly decided to keep an eye on him so she could order him back to his room if sitting up became too much for him to handle.
A lone figure standing by the side of the dance floor caught her eye. Calistra walked over to where Geri was looking forlornly at Ky’ara and Taren as they danced.
“Aren’t you going to ask her?” she said neutrally.
Geri looked over at her, startled, and then he frowned slightly. “No. I know when I’ve been beaten.” He sighed, and then grinned suddenly, a twinkle in his eye.
“So are you going to tell her, or am I?”
“Tell her—?” Calistra wasn’t sure what he was referring to.
“That you used a spell to help her dance, of course.” Geri raised his eyebrows, “Joran told me he could see a vague glimmer when she stepped onto the dance floor…and well, I know she’s not doing it on her own. Light! You should have seen her when we were in school together. Dancing was the only thing she repeatedly failed at…I always thought it had something to do with her inability to let the man lead...” This last part was said thoughtfully, but Calistra caught the mischievous glimmer in his eye.
“It wasn’t me,” she said.
Murmuring a word, she looked closely at the dancing couple. There was definitely a spell there. Nothing harmful or the crystal would block it, just something to create a sort of synergy between Ky’ara and her dance partner. Calistra was impressed. Magic of that kind was so vague it was difficult to properly cast. “I’d be willing to bet Taren did something. He’s the only one who might know magic of that kind.”
Geri shrugged. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.
“I’d forgotten how well you knew each other…” Calistra murmured. She hesitated, and then for a moment she let her walls down, dropping the façade that showed her as a capable, confident leader. For just a moment, she let her doubts show through.
“Is she truly the hero we all want her to be?” Calistra asked him quietly, “Can we really trust her with the fate of the world?”
Geri nodded after only a moment’s thought, for once his expression serious. “You don’t have to worry about her turning against us…she’s honest about her loyalties. If she sets her sights on something, she goes after it with everything she has, openly, with no pretenses. That’s how she managed to rise to the top of our class, and how she got that council position. But even with all that determination, she never resorted to anything underhanded. She was never deceitful or cruel like so many nobles I met…I don’t know if we have a glimmer of possibly winning this thing, but if anyone can do it, she can.”
Calistra nodded crisply, accepting his statement. It was confirmation of her own assessment of the girl’s character. He had gone a little overboard with the flattery though.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ask her to dance?” she asked, glancing sideways at him teasingly.
“Very funny. Yes, I’m sure.” Geri dismissed her comment with a flap of his hand. Suddenly he grinned, that twinkle back in his eye. “But you, my dear lady, would you honor me with a dance?”
Calistra’s eyes widened and she stared at him in surprise. Then a traitorous blush crept into her cheeks and she curtsied, taking his outstretched hand.
“I rather think I will.”
* * * * *
The remainder of the month went by in a blur. Ky’ara was now spending time equally in both the library and the practice areas outside. Occasionally she would take a ride, accompanied by Taren, to clear her head out in the fresh air. The full meaning of the prophecy was still proving elusive and she found that the short periods of time spent away from it were necessary to keep her from tearing her hair out in frustration.
Autumn passed quickly, the leaves turning scarlet as the season deepened and winter approached. A sudden snowstorm closed the passes to and from the hidden mountain city, and Doraicolé was cut off from the outer world. The inability to go outside drove Ky’ara to spend more and more of her time in the library—not only did she read and reread the prophecy, but she poured over old history books and scrolls about magic—anything she could lay her hands on that might contain a clue.
Taren, Joran, and Amischel took it in turns to keep her company, giving her advice or ideas, or simply encouraging her when she was overcome with frustration. Calistra dropped by occasionally, when she had time to spare. Even Hallahna visited once or twice, though she was often out on patrol with the other Shaari. Despite her frustration, Ky’ara in many ways enjoyed being able to spend all of her time learning. The library had more books than she ever would have imagined in one place. Many of them seemed random – one listed historical dates and the recorded weather of that day, another held descriptions and drawings of every
kind of poisonous plant. For the most part, Ky’ara tried to stick to studying the things that would help her find an answer to the prophecies riddles, but every so often she would pull out something completely random, just to amuse herself with the mystery of why it had been written.
She also spent a little time with A’kiina’s brothers. Jeorj’s wounds healed slowly: years and years of being continually wounded and healed had built up his resistance to magic, and so there was little that could be done but wait for his ribs to heal naturally. Since he was mostly confined to his bed, Ky’ara would sit and talk with him to keep him from going stir-crazy.
It also helped her to reconnect with the reasons she had started on this quest in the first place. Jeorj—and Sukylar, when he wasn’t on patrol—told her stories about A’kiina’s life before she had gone to the capital. It was difficult to reconcile the strong, confident woman she had known with the little sister that had once hidden for hours during a thunderstorm, only to be found out with the horses, asleep under a blanket. Getting to know A’kiina’s family helped Ky’ara feel close to her former mentor. It helped her keep her from giving up on figuring out the prophecy. She would complete the task A’kiina had entrusted her with the day she had died.
Jeorj and Sukylar also explained more about the crystal and why A’kiina had carried it. The Gighu family had been with the organization for as long as anyone could remember. Apparently, the crystal had been placed in their care and passed down from generation to generation since the days of the Uprising. No one knew how they had gotten it originally or how it could be used, only that it was to be protected and kept hidden until the day that it would be used to defeat the Destroyer.
The Keeper's Heritage Page 3