The Keeper's Heritage

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The Keeper's Heritage Page 17

by Trenna McMullin


  Could she somehow ask Myrnai for help? She was just about to think herself away and then stopped as the possibility of not being able to get back Here, to the right time, occurred to her. Or I’d find Myrnai in this time, and she would have no idea who I was or what I was talking about, Ky’ara thought. She took a breath and calmed her frustrated thoughts. Berd. Focus on him. Focus on him the day he found Taren. The fog shifted around her, and she found herself just outside Berd’s cottage, the small wooden structure appearing hazily through the mist. No one occupied it. Ky’ara hesitated. Had Myrnai said anything about doing magic while in the Dreamworld? Not that she could remember.

  She reached for her magic—and froze. It wasn’t there, at least, not in the same place. Usually her magic seemed to flow into her from a small part of her own mind. Now it seemed to flow through her whole being from everywhere. Because this version of me is that part of my mind, she thought suddenly, understanding dawning on her. And it flows to me from…Here? The realization somehow made sense, although she wasn’t entirely sure she understood why. But it was true, she could feel it…which meant that magic might respond differently. She’d better be careful.

  Could she feel the real world from here? She closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel her own connection to Life, up above her somewhere, in a different place and time. Ky’ara wrinkled her nose and focused a little harder…there? A vague feeling of life came from…a slight glow within the cottage? Like the glow left behind after Taren faded, she thought. Maybe this glow was Berd, his spirit tenuously connected to world of dreams as he slept…She teased out a small tendril of power and sent it into the glow, mentally speaking the words that would give him an urge to go down to the beach, implanting in his mind the exact spot where she had found Taren.

  An audible concussion immediately followed the spell, and fog swirled agitatedly around her. Ky’ara froze. That was bound to have attracted some attention. She swiftly centered her thoughts on the meadow where she had met Myrnai. For a moment she floated, then her feet touched down on grass and she breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing dark seemed to have noticed. She felt for her connection to her body and willed herself awake.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara sat up with a gasp, then lay back and let her thoughts wander. She needed to get some real rest! Myrnai had cautioned her against spending too much time in the Dreamworld, but she hadn’t offered any tips on how to stay out of it without being awake… Ky’ara filed the thought away as a question to make sure Myrnai answered when next they met. Suddenly curious about how long she’d actually been sleeping, Ky’ara got out of bed and looked out the small window. It was dark out and the moon was still high above the western horizon, which meant, judging by when it had come out the night before, it probably wasn’t even past midnight yet. She turned from the window and opened the door, intending to take a short walk through the hallway and maybe look in on Sukylar.

  She hesitated in the doorway. Now that she thought about it, Ky’ara wasn’t even sure which rooms the others were in—she’d been totally occupied tending Sukylar while Taren had made the arrangements with the innkeeper and she’d been more than half-asleep when he’d carried her to her room. A light glow came from around the corner…maybe someone had their door open over there. Shrugging, she slipped out of her room and began to explore.

  * * * * *

  Lauryn sat on the edge of her bad staring at the opposite wall, one boot half-removed as she prepared for bed. Sukylar was going to be OK—that was good. She probably owed Ky’ara an apology though—she’d been inexcusably rude. True, she’d just been worried about Sukylar and tired from the task of trying to bring him here safely, but she could not blame Ky’ara for not being as adept a healer as Myrnai. The old woman did have five hundred years of experience after all. Ky’ara hadn’t even been studying magic for a year yet.

  She had pulled it off though.

  Lauryn wasn’t entirely sure of the details yet. She’d gone back to the room after calming down, intending to insist again that Ky’ara try something…and had found Sukylar resting peacefully, all signs of darkness gone from his wounds. Joran had been there keeping an eye on him, just to be sure, but said Sukylar should be fine to travel after a day or so of rest. At least, that’s what she had been able to gather from her attempts at conversing with Joran. When she’d asked about the bodyguard’s miraculous recovery Joran had barely done more than grunt or shrug in response to her questions. Yes, Ky’ara had healed Sukylar, no she couldn’t ask her about it, yes Ky’ara was sleeping: all pieces of information she’d practically had to pry from him before he’d irritably told her to stop badgering him and go to bed like everyone else. Lauryn could only assume he was put out with her for something…probably something stupid too. Why did boys have to be so touchy?

  The teenage girl shook her head in frustration and chucked her boot across the room. It hit her pack, knocking it sideways just enough for the leather tube that had been resting against the wall behind it to come loose and roll halfway across the floor. Lauryn sighed and got up to pick up the canister so she would not trip across it if she had to visit the privy during the night. Strange that she’d bothered to carry it all the way here—after using it to fend off the dead things she probably should have left it in the forest; it was awkward to carry and had long since served its purpose. At the very least she could have tossed it in the rubbish bin when they arrived at the inn. Instead she had taken it off the saddle, carted it up the stairs, and carefully stored it with her pack

  Lauryn shook her head again. “Just preoccupied I guess,” she murmured. She started to prop the cylinder against the wall again, this time in the corner where it would be out of the way, then changed her mind and carried it to the bed. She may as well find out what was in it. The lid was sealed shut with wax, a precaution that she could only assume was meant to protect the contents in case they had to be carried through that blasted swamp. After softening the wax by holding it near the lamp, she was able to break the seal easily by slipping a knife under it. She popped the lid off and removed a thick scroll of parchment. Taking care not to crack the edges, Lauryn unrolled the document. It was in remarkably good condition for something that—judging by the style of writing and the fading of the ink—was old. Really old.

  Graceful black lines traced the contours of the coastline, squiggling inland to delineate rivers and jutting outwards to indicate cliffs. Carefully labelled dots showed the locations of a handful of small fishing villages along the coast, with bigger symbols designating the cities and towns farther inland. There were noticeable differences between the land depicted on the page and the countryside she had just traversed. Many of the towns no longer existed and a few of those labelled with only small dots she knew to now be thriving cities.

  “What is that?” Ky’ara’s voice broke through her musings.

  Lauryn looked up. Ky’ara was standing in the doorway. “A map,” she responded absently, returning to her perusal of the faded parchment.

  “I can see that.” A hint of amusement tinged the older girl’s voice. “Where did you get it?”

  Lauryn looked up again. Ky’ara’s hair was mussed and her clothing was rumpled as though she’d just gotten out of bed. But she didn’t look significantly worn out from her work on Sukylar, or annoyed with Lauryn, as she’d feared.

  “Take a look,” Lauryn invited, holding out the map for her to take. Ky’ara took the stiff parchment and looked it over briefly.

  “I found it at the house where I was researching when Sukylar saved me from the—whatever they were.” Lauryn told her, “I don’t even know when it was drawn or anything…”

  Ky’ara examined the map for a minute. “This is different,” she commented.

  “I know,” Lauryn replied “half the towns on there don’t exist anymore as far as I know, or they’re bigger cities now.”

  “No.” Ky’ara shook her head. “Well, that too,” she conceded, still looking at the parchment. “But look
here—Grey Lake isn’t there. The rivers just widen a bit before continuing on to the ocean…and the forest has grown much farther south since this was made…we need to get this to Taren.”

  Ky’ara started to carefully roll up the map. Lauryn looked mildly confused.

  “Wait, why? It’s probably only two hundred years old; nowhere near the time period we need…I didn’t bring it because I thought it’d be useful. I just picked it up to fend off the creatures that attacked me.”

  Ky’ara smiled ruefully. “Something you just happened to grab from the place you went to look for the information we need—while being attacked by more necromantic raisings than any of the rest of us encountered.”

  “I could’ve grabbed any of about twelve similar items—” Lauryn started to argue, and then paused. “Does that Ysinkai thing ever get old?” she said sourly.

  Ky’ara laughed wryly. “Frequently. But you must admit that it is useful at times.”

  “It’s just annoying,” Lauryn said, “It’s as though it doesn’t matter how much effort we put in—I spent hours in that library skimming dusty old books with no results. Why even try if the things that really matter always come as a result of totally random, seemingly unimportant actions?”

  Ky’ara nodded her head in agreement and then fixed Lauryn with eyes deep in thought. “I think the trying is important too, somehow. As long as we’re doing everything we can do, the rest will fall into place—at least as far as I have been able to tell. I drove myself crazy for a little while trying to figure out this whole ‘outside the control of destiny’ thing. What does that really even mean? I know Hallahna couldn’t give me any answers—to the Shaari it is apparently a simple concept. But I’ve found that when I’m doing all I can and trying to follow what I feel is right, that’s when all those little apparently random things happen to help me.”

  Lauryn shook her head, not in disagreement, just in wonder at how crazy life could seem sometimes. “Ok, so the map is important—why does Taren need to see it?”

  Ky’ara smiled excitedly. “Don’t you see? He hasn’t been much help with where Eléirathös used to be because he said the land has changed too much. This map is the missing link…If he can recognize what was similar to it in his day, we can maybe locate where Eléirathös was and then transfer that to the map of today. It’ll help us be more certain of where we’re going than trying to follow the directions that Naiad gave me…”

  She stopped when she realized Lauryn was looking at her in confusion. “Sorry, no one has told you what happened to us, have they?”

  Lauryn shook her head, “No, but apparently if you got directions from a Naiad then things haven’t seemed quite so futile on your end as they were for Sukylar and me…I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to him before he got feverish, but from what I gathered he hadn’t found anything either.”

  Ky’ara smiled slightly, “yeah, well, believe me they weren’t exactly the most specific directions and we got interrupted before she could finish.”

  “I’m surprised she told you anything at all!” Lauryn exclaimed, “Nymphs are always cryptic…at least the ones Myrnai occasionally talked to were, but then those were usually sylphs and I imagine air-nymphs are a bit more prone to being flighty than sea-nymphs…”

  She trailed off, realizing Ky’ara was mirroring her confused look from earlier. “Oh, ah…I guess most people don’t know about creatures from the Dreamworld, do they? I learned a lot of stuff living with Myrnai as long as I did…sometimes I forget not even the rebellion really knows most of the things I take for granted…”

  Ky’ara shook her head, “I should’ve thought to ask you a lot more when we first set out, it may have saved some time...I was just too wrapped up in myself to properly think things through…” a sudden thought occurred to her, and she began to feel incredibly foolish, “Myrnai probably could’ve told us where Eléirathös used to be on a map from today…”

  But Lauryn was already shaking her head. “No, during the time since the druids fell she never travelled farther than an hour from the village when I lived with her, and she always seemed opposed to going any farther. I don’t think she kept up much on the changes in geography...and besides, she would’ve made sure to tell you that before we all left instead of sending me to that shade-cursed swamp.”

  “Well that’s a relief.” Ky’ara felt a little less frustrated, “I should’ve thought to ask though…I just didn’t want to acknowledge her existence I suppose…I should probably apologize to her for that.”

  Lauryn looked at her sidelong, “I’m assuming you two finally got everything cleared up then? Because seriously, I understand liking a boy and all, but you were completely in shambles over the vaguest possibility of being replaced…er, I’m sorry. I can be kind of blunt sometimes.”

  “No, you’re right.” Ky’ara said softly, “I don’t even know if I understand it myself…I shouldn’t have let it completely destroy me like that. From this side of things—when I’m with him—I’m so happy I have a hard time remembering why I couldn’t even function when I thought…well, I don’t have to explain, you were there. But I know it just seemed impossible to do anything. And solving the issue would’ve involved thinking about it, which I just couldn’t do without feeling like my insides were ripping themselves apart…I know it seems silly, but knowing I was being irrational was one thing and being able to not feel irrational was another… Sorry, apparently I needed to get that off my chest.”

  Ky’ara glanced sheepishly at the girl sitting next to her. Lauryn looked thoughtful. “I think you lock a lot up inside and then you are afraid to let any of it out because you’re afraid once you open up it’ll all come out.”

  “You’re probably right,” Ky’ara confessed, “When I was young a lot of the other people my age would avoid getting too close to me…those ranked below me were intimidated by my Uncle’s position and anyone blue-blooded enough to not be bothered by that was usually put off by the fact that my mother was common. I guess I never really had anyone to talk to, other than Mier…and then I was in politics, so I was never supposed to show how I really felt anyways.”

  Lauryn shrugged, “Well, the townspeople didn’t really like their kids to get too close to me either…I guess I just learned to brush things off or say how I feel right away… of course sometimes that doesn’t work so well either…I could probably avoid a lot of problems with other people if I kept my thoughts to myself a little more.”

  Ky’ara held back a grin. Lauryn could occasionally be a little too blunt. But that probably came from having lived with Myrnai most of her life—the old healer definitely had a very ‘no-nonsense’ approach to life. Ky’ara wondered briefly how much of that came from having had to put up with people for five-hundred years, or whether she had always been that way…probably best not to ask Taren that.

  “You should probably get back to bed,” Lauryn said, bringing Ky’ara back from her wandering thoughts, “You’re obviously still pretty tired from healing Sukylar.”

  Ky’ara nodded absently and handed the map back to Lauryn, who put it back into the leather case and replaced the lid. “Keep that somewhere safe. We’ll have to show Taren tomorrow—we’ll be waiting around here anyways while Sukylar recovers his strength.”

  Lauryn nodded and laid the tube against the headboard of the bed, above her pillow. Ky’ara returned to her own room and climbed back under her covers. I don’t expect I’ll fall asleep very quickly this time, she thought, I have far too much to think about…

  * * * * *

  Keerason lay on a thin pad in an empty stone chamber far beneath the palace, contemplating Death. It was close, he could feel it. Each day of starvation brought him closer to the end. Each day of his pain brought them closer to setting Ekzhad free again. A faint squeak woke him from his daze and Keerason weakly turned his head towards the doorway. A torch from the hallway burned his eyes. They were unused to light after months of near total darkness. He lifted a shaking hand to shield his
face. A cloaked figure entered his room and closed the door. He let his hand drop and his eyelids fluttered shut, the effort was too much.

  “It will be soon.” The Destroyer’s soft voice seemed almost unbearably loud after weeks of silence. He alternately craved the sound and hated it. Long months of effort. Endless incantations and blood magic. Shades had appeared to them, Ekzhad’s puppets, acting as intermediaries. The necromancer had survived, barely, and was sequestered deep within Death. He was leeching spirits of the living in order to stay alive, but nothing less than willing sacrifice would bring him back...and no one was more eager to please the master than Keerason.

  His mind wandered.

  “Are you still willing?” his master asked, looking at his pathetically thin frame. He struggled to decipher the words and then nodded faintly, finding it much too difficult to verbalize a response. Willing. Ready. Please just let it end soon…He took a shaky breath and calmed his thoughts. Dehydration would have been a faster way to go, but the success of this attempt depended on his complete willingness. Making the decision to die, making it over again every day for more than a month, would enhance the spell to ensure its effectiveness. His master was talking again.

  “Ekzhad may be my most powerful servant. But I want you to know, before the end…you have proven yourself the most useful. Your courage and loyalty is not unnoticed.”

  He felt a stirring of pride. Ordinarily such praise would have made his heart burst with happiness, but in his weakened state it merely brought mild contentment. Peace. He didn’t know how long his master sat with him before leaving silently. His mind wandered. Death was near.

  Chapter 11: Interference

  Ky’ara awoke to the sun streaming through her window. She blinked and sat up. Was it really morning already? She could hardly remember getting into bed. Apparently the second half of the night had been Dreamworld free. Thank the light for that. While she still felt like her brain itself was tired, it was not nearly as bad as it had been after waking the first time…Shades, had she really been so open with Lauryn last night? Apparently being brain-tired also made her talkative. Still, it probably wasn’t a bad thing. Lauryn was blunt on occasion, but she had also proven that she kept her mouth closed about things that really mattered—living with Myrnai’s secret for years proved that.

 

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