by Meagan Hurst
Heading back to Arriandie, however, went well this time and she headed back up to Baryaris’s room without once being questioned. Tapping on his door, she waited for him to answer it, but his answer was unconventional. A map appeared on a door—a map that had glowing lines on it which told her where to go.
“You are being an ass,” she muttered, but she did follow the directions before her. Spending hours staring at his door in order to win a non-physical battle didn’t seem as appealing as usual.
Chapter 24
“You appear to have your touch with the Warlord even in this time,” Baryaris called up to her as she arrived in the room he used for war, the one the Mithane used as his study, though the walls themselves were different in her time.
“I believe my immortality and my weapon surprised him—that and his attempts to kill me didn’t pan out as he had hoped.”
Leaping off the high arch she had used as a perch when she had come in through the tower window, she landed in the center of his table and walked with care through his paperwork. Jumping to the ground, she headed over to lean against the nearest wall. Holding Baryaris’s eyes with her own, she offered him a sarcastic smile before drawing a dagger and playing with it in an idle manner.
“While I am grateful you managed to do that without so much as disturbing my paperwork, I find the weapon display a little pompous. What did the Warlord say?”
“Noon tomorrow, same place I met him today,” she told him. “He seems to have been keeping a watch on Arriandri as he was less than five hours away.” Her mind was still processing the whole meeting with Nivaradros. He was more like the way he’d been when she had first met him, but kinder and less guarded. He’d also been far less formal. He was violent, yes, but he wasn’t as he had been depicted. He must have transformed as time had passed, changing to become what everyone claimed he was. His own people had created him, she suspected, turned him into the monster everyone had assumed he was. Just what had happened in Nivaradros’s past?
“You liked him,” Baryaris breathed in amazement. “How can you like him?”
“When he is not attempting to kill you, he grows on you,” Z replied with a shrug. It wasn’t enough and she decided to try again. “He’s not what everyone always assumes he is. He shields himself by acting like he is perceived to be by the rest of the world. I’ve never fallen for it, and he knows that. Also, I seem to have caught his interest, since I am nothing like he has seen before.”
“You seem to be very attached to him.”
“He’s a friend,” she told the de la Nepioa.
“I see. Well I won’t pry further. I have a feeling I will only grow more concerned.”
“You want to tell me why I am handing you over to the Dragon for assassination? It’s not why I came here, and I don’t understand why our records say you were betrayed again by the very king you were betrayed by originally.”
“Ah, because that is where you come in my dear,” Baryaris replied. “You will be a witness to my demise, and you will carry word. You will tell my Rangers that I was betrayed by the man we just pulled away from, saying nothing about the Dragon.”
“The Dragon plans to use your death to weaken the Rangers.”
“You have power over him, use it to my advantage.”
She was certain her eyes were shifting colors. “You are asking me to play a rather large part in your death. On top of it, you are asking me to play a rather large part in the murder of the de la Nepioa.”
“One day you and Midestol will face off. He will either kill you or you will kill him. I’d like to think this will help to ensure that you are not the one who ends up dead.” When she regarded him with less than instant clarity, Baryaris sighed. “You’ve stated you have started spending time with Midestol outside battles, and you have become tentatively fond of him. While I think it has been beneficial for you, I do not want to have to worry about the world ending because Midestol manages to kill you because you can’t kill him. You seem to be well matched; he deserves no advantages.”
“Believe that I know what Midestol is capable of and what kind of a man he is. I am not going to just lie down and let him kill me when the time comes.”
“But will you be able to kill him? If you can’t, he will seize upon your uncertainty and you will be the one dead. He will not hesitate, Zimliya.”
“So having me play a large part in your execution is your way of preparing me? Is that it?” Her tone was full of anger and scorn, but her great-grandfather didn’t even flinch.
“Something like that, yes. I would like you to win, and if this gives you a bonus in the future, then I am more than willing to go through with it. Why are you so upset? It has nothing to do with you, and it’s not like I am asking you to personally kill me.”
“You have no idea what you are doing to the Dragon,” she growled.
“Or you have grown so attached to him that you no longer see him for what he is. That is a dangerous thing to allow, Zimliya. You cannot let him beguile you.”
She gave up the argument. He knew Nivaradros as the Warlord; she knew him as someone else. Falling silent—and it was as cold and disapproving as she could make it—she turned back to viewing the papers she could catch in her vision. The Rangers were struggling. It would take, she recalled, Baryaris’s death to unite the Rangers into what they would become. Right now, too many of them were clinging to their former lives and Tenia. Unless something changed, they would find nothing to unify them. They had followed her great-grandfather here because they trusted him, but they couldn’t let go of their past.
He knew that. He sought to fix it by becoming their martyr. In order for it to succeed though, he needed aid from someone he could trust and someone who could keep the information from the rest of his people. He needed her. And he had waited in the hope she would come before he had to do this alone. Staring into his blue eyes, she nodded once.
“Tomorrow, we will head out at dawn,” she told him icily.
Rangers passed her in the halls. It was enough of a tight-knit group that all of them knew she was an outsider, but none of them were concerned by her presence. Then again, her amulet was out in full display and glowing, so it was rather hard to ignore the fact that she was, in fact, one of them. She didn’t inquire whether or not she had a room though. Instead she headed past the busy halls where Rangers mingled with each other while their small beings played without fear in the halls. They reminded her of Tenians: carefree, happy, and content. It would be much later that desperation would drive them to make such extreme changes to their culture that they became considered not just another branch of Tenia.
Baryaris’s demise would start it, but following that, there would be wars. Additions of new immortal and mortal races. The Rangers would become devoted to protecting the world, as opposed to protecting their own special interests. They would give up their kingdoms—and they had them—one at a time to the keeping of other races, and they would form alliances that at this point could only be dreamed of.
They would form their groups: Scholar, Warrior, Mage, and become feared for their skills. Sealing themselves away from the rest of the world, they would focus on being the best and learning more. They would become equals in magic and warfare to the immortals who would seek to bring everyone else to heel, keeping the power balance in place. Research into medicine and overall health would place them foremost in the ranks of menders—who used no magic to help those they cared for—and then they would bend that line, so healers could use magic to aid them.
The Rangers would become the Keepers of Knowledge and would be responsible for keeping up with treaties between races, borders between lands, and the histories that they were gifted. They would be considered neutral parties in meetings between various rulers and develop a level of trust the worlds around them could not even imagine. Gathering libraries of material from all over this world and others they would expand on the knowledge of “how” and “why” until they had had few equals around them.
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And then betrayal would bring them low. Tenia would turn to slaughter them, and the Rangers would receive no aid from their allies. Millions would die and the decision to hide would be made. Cities would be made underground, inside mountains, and in plain sight but so warded no one could even sense their presence. And there they would stay for more than a thousand years, letting the world around them shift and change without getting involved. Oh, they would still venture out and aid strangers, but they didn’t let it be known they were Rangers; they would encourage the rumor that their people had all been murdered.
But always, they would be Rangers. Training, studying, and teaching where they could, they would lose nothing of their skills and little of their knowledge. Knowing full well the time would come when they had to go back to the world to save it, they didn’t let their wits or steel get dull, but they also didn’t let their anger lessen. Instead it had simmered like fire hidden underneath the forest floor, and by the time Z had joined the Rangers the hatred had been a blight on the race’s outlook. It had taken her years to wear away the rage the Rangers held toward those who had abandoned them.
It had been easier to get the immortals to work with each other. That was the sad thing. Oh, they had been conniving bastards behind her back—though she had known a lot of what had been going on—but at least they had pretended to get along. It had taken getting the entire Alliance back together before the Rangers had decided as a collective whole that they could come out of hiding. And then she’d had to deal with them insulting the immortals out of spite. Thinking back on it, Z could honestly say she had no idea how everyone was still alive; there had been grudges on far too many sides.
“May I say, based on your thoughts, I am not looking forward to dealing with what is coming?”
She blinked and glanced over her shoulder at the Arriandin. It was surprising to see him take a form again, but in the current time period, perhaps she should have expected nothing less. She was in the depths of Arriandie and the waters here held secrets that were guarded with care.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she assured him. “At least not for you.”
He vanished without replying, and she shook her head as she turned back her original mission. Reaching out with her magic, she brushed against Arriandin for a moment before pushing past him. Concentrating on the waters, she sought the power at its core. Finding it, she reached out and placed her power against it, blacking out from the backlash.
She awoke when water hit her face. Opening her eyes and glaring at Baryaris, she got to her feet and wiped off her clothing. “I was trying to test the castle’s defenses.”
“By attacking it?”
“That is the fastest way to find out if it is lacking something,” she pointed out. “And I wanted to see if I could communicate with it.”
“Ah, and how did that go?”
“It didn’t, but I am certain if Arriandin ever did attempt to attack me I would win.” She glanced down at her wet clothes and sighed. Running heat through them until they were dry, she raised a brow at Baryaris and then reached out with her senses. “I was unconscious a while,” she murmured in surprise as she realized the night had passed her by. “Interesting. Shall we go?”
“You even act like an immortal,” her great-grandfather noted. He offered her his arm and, when she placed her hand upon his, he moved it to his elbow. “Try not to alert my people,” he advised.
“Our people,” she corrected. “They are still Rangers even if it is before my time. I am a Ranger, Baryaris, I always will be.” In response her amulet once again made itself known and began to glow.
“Clearly,” he agreed as he glanced at it. “And it gladdens me to know that even though you are considering giving up your seat, your amulet has not abandoned you. It means you have not lost sight of our values and goals.”
He led her to the armory and waited while she rearmed herself. She had lost a couple of daggers while battling the creatures—Nivaradros had eaten them—so she grabbed replacements. She declined his offer of armor, chuckling when he looked uncomfortable over it.
“Rangers in the future? We just don’t do armor; if we’re going to die, we want it to be quick.”
He didn’t approve, but he didn’t vocalize his displeasure. They headed out soon after but were stopped no less than eighteen times by Rangers who wished to speak with their leader. It was a reminder of why she was helping him. Most of the Rangers they spoke to wanted to contact the Tenian Idiot. Baryaris was making a wise move to build a gulf between his people and their former kingdom, but Z hated the path it was taking, and she hated being involved. She did not want to watch this man die.
Once they were outside and an hour or so from Arriandie her grandfather released her arm. “You lead,” he advised. “I have no idea where we are going.”
He could have figured it out, but Z took the lead and began to retrace her steps from the day before. Two hours later, Z began to reach out further with her senses. She did not want Nivaradros catching her off guard a second time. Finding he was still about an hour ahead, she relaxed, but widened the area where she would be alerted to movement. She was hoping to avoid having to fight the creatures that she and the Dragon had fought the previous day.
An hour later, Z whirled on the spot, shielding Baryaris as the Dragon closed. To her surprise, Nivaradros’s stilled and snorted smoke at Kyi’rinn. “I approve of your punctuality,” the Dragon growled. “Put your sword down!”
“Worried about it?” she inquired.
Nivaradros didn’t reply, but his head swiveled toward Baryaris. “This is your leader?” he asked in an unimpressed tone in Dragon as he returned his attention to her.
“Baryaris, meet Nivaradros. Nivaradros, meet Baryaris de la Nepioa.”
“Warlord,” Baryaris said glacially as he nodded to Nivaradros.
The Dragon ignored him, but he was busy watching her again. His interest was almost to the point of creepy, but he was so intrigued by her, she found it closer to flattering. He was young in this time. Young and right at the start of his Warlord stage; he should not have been this fascinated by her. But he was, and she could tell Baryaris was well aware of Nivaradros’s attention.
“Are you going to lose all semblance of manners?” she demanded of him.
“He’s speaking the thin language of humans; I don’t speak weakness.”
She sighed but resigned herself to the realization that this was to be expected. “He speaks Dragon.”
“Then let him speak it.” Nivaradros’s eyes were calmer than she expected, but he was still agitated overall, and still dangerous.
Baryaris crossed his arms and regarded the Warlord with something just short of rage. “I see your manners leave much to be desired, Warlord.”
“Yours aren’t much better, Human.” Nivaradros’s eyes blazed, and he turned his attention from her to the man he planned to kill. “Shall we?” he wanted to know.
“Not just yet, Dragon,” Baryaris told him in a cool tone, though it was formal as well. “There are a couple of terms I would like you to agree to first.”
“No.”
“You haven’t heard them yet,” Baryaris growled.
“Then speak.”
“I would like you to—”
“No.”
“Nivaradros,” Z inserted in a very calm tone.
The Dragon’s attention returned to her at once and she heard Baryaris’s sharp inhalation. Green eyes held hers before Nivaradros snorted smoke again. “Your proposal?” he growled as he returned his gaze to Baryaris.
The de la Nepioa was in shock. She could feel it, and he didn’t even make the attempt to keep it off his face. “You don’t get to claim this kill,” he told the Dragon. Nivaradros reared back with surprise. “You can kill me, but I need this for another manner. I need, Warlord, to separate the Rangers from the Tenia. It would benefit you as well.”
“I do not see how that would work to my advantage,” Nivaradros snapped, breathin
g fire on the last word. He wasn’t interested, Z knew it at once, but his gaze moved to her again as he waited for Baryaris to speak. The Dragon’s trust in her was almost painful.
“You still get to kill me,” Baryaris began.
“And the Tenians get the credit, yes, that is definitely worth killing you for.”
She cringed and hesitated. She did not want to get involved in this. Convincing him to kill Baryaris had already forced her to play a part in her great-grandfather’s demise, and she was struggling with that. Yet Baryaris wanted this, needed this, to occur. Swallowing her emotions—cutting them away—she approached the Dragon.
“This is a good deal, Nivaradros,” she began in a low voice. “Yes, you don’t get credit, but you don’t need credit here. With the Rangers and Tenia separated, you can attack things that would have been otherwise protected.”
“Tenian villages,” Nivaradros murmured. He glanced at Baryaris. “Do you agree to that?”
“What are you asking?”
“He’s not,” Z inserted before the Dragon could answer. “He is telling you. If you will prevent him from claiming credit for your demise, then you need to offer him something in return. What he wants is the right to attack the outer villages of Tenia. You will agree—the Rangers will not get involved—or you have nothing to offer him and the agreement is nullified.”
“I cannot promise that.”
“No, you will be dead, but I can.” Holding his eyes with hers she kept her face impassive. “Do we have a deal, gentlemen?”
“I’m not sure I know that term,” Nivaradros remarked as his eyes shifted to a calmer shade. “But if it works for the human, I will agree to proceed with this insulting request.”
Her great-grandfather took longer to agree. He gestured for her to follow him a short distance away and she felt a shield go up around them. “What are you doing?!” Baryaris hissed. “You are trading the lives of innocent people—”