According to Lauryn, she’d never left her little village until their recent journey to Doraicolé—not once in the five-hundred years he’d been sealed. The Myrnai of his past had longed to travel, see the world, and have adventures. It was what had brought them together—her constant badgering for tales of what he had seen while journeying with her sister had opened a way to share his own delight for the new places and sights and people he’d encountered. Her wanderlust had only grown as the years had gone on...and according to Ky’ara, now she would never have that chance at all. Oh Arys, how could you have taken that from her? he mused.
How his druid had known that her sister would be needed five-hundred years in the future, he could not comprehend. That she had asked it of Myrnai rankled him just a little—why then had she not seen fit to ask him before sealing him away? Myrnai had been given a choice—extend her life and perhaps see her sweetheart again, or live a full, normal life and forget about her sister and her lost love. Taren had not been given that luxury. His choice had been taken from him. And though he had come to terms with his lot here in the future, that theft still bothered him. Maybe because some part of him still trusted the thief.
Realizing he had let his thoughts wander, the Keeper straightened and watched the shadows of the trees slowly appear as the darkness slipped away under the sun’s first rays. The others soon woke, and once they struck camp, the little group continued traveling deeper into the forest, struggling now to find paths where the horses could accompany them. The river narrowed and cut through a small canyon. Their only choice was to keep following the land as it climbed above the waterway. Just before nightfall, they crested a ridge above it. The trees thinned enough for them to see the river’s path stretching out in front of them for miles, the winding water gleaming in the light of the setting sun. Just at the edge of their line of sight a tell-tale glimmer reflected from a wide expanse between the trees. They had found the lake.
* * * * *
A cloaked figure waited silently at the edge of the forest bordering the capital. Darkness paved the sky and below it an inky river flowed into the shadows of a hundred ancient trees. Someone else lurked nearby, the figure could sense it. Bloodred lips curled into an ominous smile beneath cold blue eyes untouched by mirth. The figure turned towards the river, unsurprised to see a thin, sallow-faced man standing just yards away.
“It’s about time, Ekzhad.”
“Impatient, my liege?” the necromancer replied casually.
“My patience has little to do with it,” the Destroyer hissed, “our time is growing short. It took far too long to recover your strength, even with Keerason’s sacrifice. The girl is searching, and I’d rather she not discover whatever it is that meddlesome druid means for her to know.”
Ekzhad inclined his head respectfully. “I have already interrupted their search. Even from the other side, I had power enough to direct spirits to them. The places they were looking for clues have all been destroyed—it is unlikely they found anything of worth, and if they search blindly it could take months for her to find the ruins.”
“We will not be so lucky. Bringing you back shifted the balance...the separation between worlds is thin. If she gets to the lake, she will find the city. I want you to stop her…by whatever means necessary.”
“As my liege commands,” the necromancer replied, smiling coldly in anticipation.
He turned on his heel, whistling a single eerie tone, and disappeared into the darkness.
* * * * *
Calistra threw the parchment across the tent in frustration. It flew a very unsatisfying two feet before fluttering to the ground. She picked it up, sighing, and set it back on the small folding desk that helped her keep things organized while they were on the move.
“Bad news?” Geri asked drily from the entrance. “Or is this your new filing technique?”
She gave him an exasperated look. “Aren’t you supposed to be scouting ahead?”
He nodded, clicking his heels together and saluting with mock seriousness. “Yes Ma’am. I was indeed scouting ahead this morning. I have returned with news.”
Calistra motioned him inside, rolling her eyes at his exaggerated professionalism. He grinned impudently and sauntered inside, settling himself on a small stool and stretching his legs out in front of him.
“What’s going on Geri?” she asked impatiently, “I should have you demoted for impertinence to a superior officer. We are at war, you know.”
He smiled easily, waving away her concern with one hand. She couldn’t help returning his smile with one of his own. He knew her too well. While his cheeky behavior might be inappropriate for a soldier addressing his superior, the reminder not to take herself too seriously always helped alleviate some of the stress of leadership. Perhaps that was why she kept him on a short leash. In an organization full of people who either fought her decisions and tried to play politics, or followed her with fervent loyalty and respect, Geri treated her as a friend—someone deserving of his loyalty, but not above his teasing.
“Are you alright?” the young captain interrupted his report and pinned her with a look of genuine concern. She sighed, sitting across from him on another stool, with a little more dignity than he had displayed. “I’m sorry, I was distracted. Please, what was so urgent that you returned to report?”
“We’re going to encounter some resistance from trolls before we even reach Kaltor,” Geri replied. “There’s an encampment of about twenty or so only a few hours’ ride from here and another smaller band off to the west. They should be easy enough to deal with, but I thought you should know. It would probably be prudent to ride out and deal with them now, rather than risk them stumbling across us at nightfall.”
Calistra processed this information. She’d hoped they could reach the border villages before engaging the enemy. Even if they could sneak past this group, though, it would be unwise to leave their backs exposed to such a threat.
“Take two units and deal with both groups, separately if possible,” Calistra told him, “Ask clan-leader Asara to accompany you with her unit of Shaari as well—but please be more respectful to her than you are to me. We need them to go along. If anything inadvertent happens they’ll be able to send word to their remaining clansmen here through their dragons. I don’t want clearing out a few hostiles to turn into something more serious just because I underestimated how many people to send.”
Geri nodded. He stood and graciously offered his hand to help her rise as well. She took it gratefully and tried not to step on her robe as she heaved herself off the short folding stool.
“Oh for Light’s sake!” she grumbled as she pitched forward and Geri was forced to tighten his grip on her hand to keep her from falling. He grinned down at her.
“I think whoever designed those stools didn’t realize that making them so short to conserve space also made them a pain-in-the—”
“Geri!” Calistra stopped him, straightening herself and pulling her hand out of his.
He shrugged, still smiling, and saluted again before turning on his heel and ducking back out of the tent. She shook her head exasperatedly and picked up the paper she’d been dealing with when Geri first walked in. It was a report from one of her spies close to the capital—the only report to have made it this far since the King had called for the arrest of anyone tied to the rebels, in fact. It painted a bleak picture. The nobility were still in full support of the King despite his failure to reconvene the Council. Taxes on the peasantry had been raised, travel was restricted, and anyone coming in or out of the city was searched thoroughly and required to pay an enormous fine. People with no connection to the organization were being executed frequently on trumped up charges—the slightest hint of magic could lead to a death sentence, and everyone was eager to point fingers at everyone else, to keep the attention away from themselves.
The report had gotten through only at great risk to her informant and the messengers who delivered it, and she had no way of knowing if he wa
s still alive or not. It would only get worse. Once the rebel army started claiming cities, the King would likely only escalate the witch hunt and increase the work-burden of the peasantry. Calistra knew that she was partially to blame and that frustrated and saddened her. But she also knew that the rebellion couldn’t just stand idly by as the Destroyer choked the life from the land and manipulated the nobility into taking away what little freedom the lower-classes still had. If she didn’t instigate change, who would?
Calistra squared her shoulders and left the command tent. Their mission was too important for her to spend her time moping about the inevitable civilian casualties. She would do all she could to ensure that their invasion was helpful instead of destructive, but how the government responded was not her fault. Extreme reprisals from the King only justified her actions by proving that the existing regime was demonstrably flawed. The lives lost in the King’s attempt to purge the capital of all rebel activity were unfortunate, but out of her control. At least, that’s what she told herself.
* * * * *
Ky’ara found herself on the shores of the lake almost as soon as she closed her eyes that night. It was the same familiar spot she always seemed to go to. Keeping her mind carefully clear, she let the dream take her to the island and through the forest, hoping that maybe, now that they were physically close, more might be revealed.
She was disappointed. Her dream-self stumbled through the forest, searching for the stone building with the scroll above it that she had seen in the images Nisse had shown her. But just as she rounded a tree and found herself face-to-to face with a stone wall, the image dissolved in a wave of mist and Ky’ara found herself once more on the shore of the lake.
Ky’ara sighed and focused on the clearing, pulling herself back to Myrnai’s regular meeting spot. The woman looked up as Ky’ara walked over to her.
“Arys frustrating you again?” she asked.
“I don’t understand why I keep being dragged here just for her to show me the same thing over and over. We’re almost to the lake in Life, why keep showing it to me here but never let me actually see the ruins?” Ky’ara responded tiredly.
Myrnai shrugged, “That was always her way—kept everything to herself until you needed to know more to do what she thought you should. Come, I want to time-slip again, this time with you leading the way. I don’t know what is going to happen once you reach Eléirathös, but I have a feeling you will need to know all you can about the Dreamworld once you get there.”
“Do you have an idea of where I should try to reach?” Ky’ara asked, unsure she wanted to attempt something she’d only done by accident before.
“Focus on a moment when you felt a connection with someone…I’d shy away from anyone you’re around at the moment, your recent memories of them will make it more difficult to focus on them in the past. And don’t go back too far. The Dreamworld may be constantly shifting through random time frames or touching everywhere at once, but the human mind has a distinctly chronological memory system—going further back in time is usually more difficult.”
Ky’ara refrained from mentioning that there was nothing usual about what they were doing. She deliberated for a moment, finally fixing on a memory that kept reoccurring to her, despite its overall insignificance. The morning they’d left Jenie’s house last year she had spent time with Amischel packing their saddlebags. It was a simple memory, with almost nothing to recommend it, but for some reason the feelings of friendship she’d first felt for Ami that day were clearer in her mind than any other memory she could think of at the moment. She closed her hand around Myrnai’s outstretched hand and slowly released the breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Everything blurred for a moment, and then they were in Hal and Jenie’s house. The structure around her was hazy—both there and not there, like most of the buildings she’d seen so far in this realm. Myrnai had said that was because these were just echoes of the real buildings—images of Life imposed upon the Dreamworld by the memories of those who had been there. She had also explained that these echoes were in some ways the souls of physical objects, because they existed in all times and in none of them. That meant everything in Life had already existed in the Dreamworld before ever being built, even though their existence in the Dreamworld depended on people’s memories. Ky’ara tried not to think too hard when Myrnai told her those kinds of things. It just made her head hurt.
“Now,” Myrnai was saying, “You’ve taken us to a time when everyone is awake…see how there are no DreamGlows? It’s more difficult to verify that you’ve taken us to the right time, but…” she trailed off as Ky’ara mentally shifted them back a few hours and glows sprung up around them. “Of course for you this is all just a simple little parlor trick.”
Ky’ara was surprised by the snippiness in Myrnai’s voice, and turned to look at her in confusion.
“I’m not mad at you for being able to control things here so easily,” Myrnai replied wearily. “Just frustrated that it took me five hundred years of practice to accomplish what you’ve done in five minutes…you may as well see if you can verify that we’re in the right timeframe…though I’d be awfully surprised if we’re not, after the control you’ve demonstrated. ”
Ky’ara nodded and walked over to one of the glowing lights, holding her hands out to it the way Myrnai had showed her. She could sense a turmoil of thoughts and feelings—a deep longing that was almost painful overlaying confusion, determination, and sadness…this glow wasn’t Amischel.
It was herself.
Myrnai reached towards her as she leaned in closer, intrigued. Hadn’t she dreamt something strange that night before they left for Ainon Caseia?
“Just be sure you don’t—”
Myrnai started her warning a second too late. The glow flashed brightly as Ky’ara’s hand touched the light, and Ky’ara found herself flung into a place without form, surrounded by the flurry of emotions she had just sensed. She remembered the conflicting emotions that had plagued her back then…why had she always questioned herself? She had been free to choose her own path and yet all she had focused on was the limitations she herself had put up. If she had just thought about why she was joining this fight, she could have let go of a lot of that doubt.
The deep longing she felt made her want to cry. Why did she always have to be afraid? To run from things? If she would have just faced Taren back then…she knew from her more recent experience that pushing her feelings away just drove the pain in deeper over time. She needed to accept things or she wouldn’t be able to go on.
Ky’ara suddenly became aware of a change in the thoughts around her, a questioning…and then she remembered. The strange dream she had had way back then…a figure masked in light, asking her the very things she had just wondered. Her thoughts must’ve spilled over and somehow been translated by her past-self’s sleeping mind…
“Who are you?”
She could feel the question, more than hear it.
“I am you,” Ky’ara thought back, unable to help herself.
She was suddenly yanked back to her senses. Myrnai had somehow pulled her out of the dream, the communication with herself having only taken an instant of thought even though it had felt like a few minutes.
“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD DID YOU JUST DO?!”
Disoriented by the sudden change from abstract floating to standing on solid ground (well, seemingly solid ground anyway), Ky’ara could only shake her head.
Myrnai took a deep breath and regained her composure. “I thought I had impressed upon you the importance of NOT touching the light…PLEASE tell me you at least kept your thoughts to yourself while you were in there?”
Ky’ara’s expression must’ve given her away. Myrnai groaned. “Don’t you realize the kind of trouble something like that could cause? You’re lucky to be here at all! What if you influenced whoever that was? You could change events in the past and—”
“I don’t think so,” Ky’ara
interrupted her, “I mean, I know that I influenced that dream…it was my own.”
Myrnai was momentarily at a loss for words. “You…it was…what?”
“That light, it was me the night before we left Jenie and Hal’s to go to the fortress. As soon as I realized that, I had this vague memory of the dream I’d had that night…I don’t think I changed anything, because it already happened this way.”
“That very well may be, but what did you think the repercussions HERE would be? You’ve just drawn attention to this spot.”
As if to illustrate her point, the faint murmuring in the background suddenly fluctuated, getting louder for a moment before dropping off to almost nothing.
Ky’ara held out her hand to the irate woman, who took it grudgingly, and shifted them back to the meadow. She felt for her connection to Life, relieved to find that it was directly above her again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warnings more closely,” Ky’ara apologized, “but I really do think it will be alright…that dream in the past is what helped me get to Ainon Caseia in time. Nothing bad happened to us or to Jenie and Hal after we left that day…”
Myrnai just shook her head. “For how easily you catch on to things here, you just don’t seem to get it! Time and space are different here—everything is interwoven in ways even I don’t understand. The beacon you just set off could have attracted attention to Jenie and Hal’s house in that time, to your current location but in that time, to either place in this time as well, or even to any time or place you’ve been in between!”
“I’m sorry,” Ky’ara repeated, beginning to feel more troubled, “I didn’t realize…”
“Just—promise me you will try to think more before you do anything here?” Myrnai sighed, “You’d better go. If you end up back here again just stay in one spot and don’t touch anything, okay?”
The Keeper's Heritage Page 23