The Eld Queen (The YaraStar Trilogy Book 2)

by Jeanelle Frontin

  Yara passed a few Skotads, a couple of whom she knew. Wisps of her blue hair escaping the hood of her cloak betrayed her identity, but she didn’t feel alarmed. As the Skotads reached toward her with little happy embraces, her heartstar burst with peace from their touch. While she needed to be as discreet as she could, she knew that the Skotads would be loyal to her and keep her presence there to themselves. Toler had, just days after her return from death, offered her their territory as a safe space.

  Smiling, Yara thought warmly of his kindness. She had forgotten with the suddenness of her duties, and the tiring amount of information she had to learn, that the Skotads had been the kindest people to her after her Tribe parents.

  Creatures…

  Her brain seemed to try to correct her view of the Skotads. A mini war waged within her.

  No, they are not creatures! They are people, just like the Eld…

  Yara pondered the fate of the Skotads and Photaks in the distant future. Were the Tribes supposed to re-adapt to a submissive life after four thousand years of freedom? Perhaps this was what Mibery meant by her Eld mother’s views. Yara too felt it unfair that the “creatures” were crafted to suffer from the natural state of Mira, the Photaks from darkness and the Skotads from light. Why had the Eld engineered such restrictions within them? Was it to control them? To keep them apart? To keep them from ever uniting against… the Eld?

  Lost in thought, Yara abruptly became aware of the smell of spice and incense filling the tunnels. Soon, a large wooden door loomed in front of her and she felt a strong sense of nostalgia.

  The last time she had been to Grandam’s tunnel was when the old Skotad sent her off with a map, supposedly to the other side of the mountain, to find answers to her questions about her origins. Grandam had fooled her into journeying to her death to fulfill the prophecy of the Ka-Eld. Yara might have done it willingly, just to find answers to her burning questions, and even more so to finally have markings like everyone else.

  The Ka-Eld…

  Grandam had once told her that the Ka-Eld was the life-force of the Eld. Back then, the Eld were believed to have been completely annihilated in the attack on Mira thousands of years before. As Yara knocked gently at the door, she wondered what it meant to be a Ka-Eld now that the Eld were back, and if it was any different as she had come back to life with markings. She also wondered who had scripted the prophecy of the Ka-Eld, and if it was a widely known divination. The Eld seemed to have many secrets, even from each other. Yara was quickly learning that not all knowledge should be shared.

  As a result, she hadn’t told anyone about Grandam or the real circumstances surrounding her journey into the Skotad mountains. After seeing the Elds’ reactions to the way in which the Photaks treated her, she had known better than to implicate the well-meaning Skotad. If anything, she was grateful for Grandam and her dedication to Eld tradition, despite Yara’s traumatic death and resurrection.

  “Enter,” Grandam called out.

  As Yara pushed the heavy door, she gasped at a remarkably welcome sight. There, peering over Grandam’s shoulders at an old scroll, was Toler. He looked up at her with a sincere smile as Grandam, stirring a cup in her hand, pottered over to the other side of her quaint, mysterious room.

  Grandam poured a potion from what looked like an old, dirty urn, then gave Yara the cup and told her to drink it.

  Yara scrutinized the contents with a frown.

  “What…what is it?”

  “Nothing that will kill you…” Grandam said with a sly smile.

  Toler chuckled heartily at Yara’s unconvinced, though slightly amused, expression.

  “It is a recipe Grandam and I found among the old Eld Queens’ journals.” he said, beaming. “It is supposed to give you strength and clarity in your duties. It seems that the pressure on the Eld Queens of Agarb was so much that they developed their own medicines and health potions to sustain themselves for duty.”

  Yara put the cup to her mouth, closed her eyes, and drank deeply. The liquid was smooth with an odorless, bitter taste, and it slithered down her throat like a thin goo, but as it entered her body Yara could feel the gentle pulsing of her marking in warming response.

  Yara raised a brow at her marking’s reaction. The pulse of the le-feer was again different, even from the rhythm she had felt with Atlase.

  “Would you look at that, young Toler?”

  Yara glanced up to see a very pleased Grandam with hands poised on her wide hips, and a proud Toler grinning next to her.

  “What…?” Yara asked with furrowed forehead.

  “The color in your face, Ka-Eld… it is returning quite rapidly,” Grandam said smugly. “It is a good thing young Toler came to see me about your state of being. He was in a mighty fit, trashing through my place to find scrolls to help you.”

  Realization dawned over Yara’s face.

  “You went to her…to help me? You’re the reason she came to see me?”

  Her shaky voice was barely audible.

  “YaraStar…after our conversation I could tell you were scarcely holding on to your strength. You were almost expressionless…you seemed so numb and without will. I had to do something—”

  Yara didn’t let him finish. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him in loving relief and, for the first time in a long time, happiness. Toler had cared for her in a way she couldn’t even care for herself. She had been doing this alone, feeling alone, but he had never stopped being there for her… he had never given up on her.

  “Thank you, TolerStar… thank you…” she whispered softly into his chest, taking several deep breaths before willing herself to let go.

  His face was overcome with emotion, but most of all with returned happiness. It was the first time Yara had used “Star” in his name. It was a tribal pet name among both Skotads and Photaks, commonly used to communicate casual endearment. Said in her tone, however, Toler hoped that it meant something more.

  “There is the YaraStar I know… well, minus the sappy hug of course,” he teased.

  Yara fired a little punch at his shoulder in feigned indignation.

  “Are you two finished? Are we going to do this or is wasting more of my time with this senseless display of greater importance?” Grandam interrupted curtly.

  “Do what…?” Yara replied, confused but now very amused.

  “Well…those scrolls Grandam gave you, and the knowledge of the Eld Queens that she possesses…we have been going through them one by one to interpret them for you. These are the copies we have made into our language so that they will be easy for you to read. And of course, we can teach you the symbols we know so that you can begin your studies in Eldish here. There is much that we are sure the Eld haven’t told you, and perhaps much even they don’t know.

  “It seems like the Eld Queens of Agarb held a very secret, sacred connection with Grandam’s line, and they would store their journals and prophecies from Sunstar with them for safekeeping. We aren’t certain why it was explicitly important for Grandam’s line to keep these secrets, away from the Houses of the Eld, but I think it is an important piece of the Eld puzzle… one of many that we are determined to help you solve. We will get you through this, Yara…Grandam and I are going to ensure you have everything you need to be the great Eld Queen you are!”

  Grandam scoffed in clear annoyance at the upbeat tone of Toler’s voice. He ignored it, holding his hopeful gaze steadily on Yara’s eyes, awaiting her approval.

  Yara glanced toward Grandam. The slight, almost indistinguishable, smile on Grandam’s face told Yara that she was in agreement, though perhaps not with the naiveté of Toler’s enthusiasm.

  Still, Yara felt moved to her very core.

  “This…is the most meaningful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, both of you…thank you…”

  “Don’t thank us yet,” Toler warned gently, “as you may not be completely happy about the things we are discovering. We have found some records within the Eld Queens’ jou
rnals that aren’t very comforting. The last journal we have looked at seems to be your grandmother’s, the late Queen Roma. Sadly, there are no records of your mother’s journals here. But in your grandmother’s last entry, she spoke of a worsening civil war that was building between the Agarbs and the Spreukens, who were also in league with the Bravads.

  “Roma seemed to be in pain and very worried about having passed on the royal marking to your Eld mother with the Houses in such a distressed state. She had felt compelled to, uh, transfer her crown to your mother a couple of decades before she died. She believed it would secure the royal line of the Agarbs. And things were peaceful for a time, at least until your mother fell in love with an Eld Master who Roma didn’t trust. It seemed to plague Roma for the rest of her days, because she journaled to the very end about what it would mean for the fate of the Eld Queen to come after…as in, what it would mean for you. Oh, and Yara… your mother’s name was—”

  “Maia…” Yara whispered softly.

  Confusion clouded Toler’s face and even Grandam turned to face her.

  “Yes… how did you know? Grandam told me when we found out that no one had revealed it to you.”

  “I guess a few of the Eld are finally opening up to me…”

  Toler smiled, but with slight concern.

  “Well…I guess I am glad to hear that. But I do feel a bit uneasy after seeing these scrolls. Maia inherited the responsibility of an impending civil war, an elaborate plot against the Agarbs. And the Eld Master that Maia loved, Jaren, who I believe was your father, was a Spreuken! Roma suspected that he was at the very center of the plot, he and his best friend, Lucerne.”

  “I just met him!” Yara interrupted. “Both him and his…uh, his son. And yes… they are Spreukens…”

  Yara cleared her throat awkwardly as Grandam’s eyes narrowed at the way she squawked out the word “son”. She shifted uncomfortably as the emotions she had felt when she first saw Atlase steadily crept over her again. Her le-feer began to pulse in the same strange way it had in his presence.

  “You seem flushed, Ka-Eld,” Grandam said tersely as Toler looked at Yara, bewildered. “Do you need to refresh yourself? The Sapstreams are just outside. Perhaps when you come back in, you can tell us about this Lucerne, and his…son.”

  “Yes, of course. I am actually a bit parched. It has been a long day. I’ll just be a few moments.”

  Yara hurriedly, and clumsily, pulled the door open, apologetically closing it behind her.

  Leaning against the tunnel’s cool walls, she covered her forehead with her palm and huffed. Shaking her head, she slid down next to the talkative Sapstream.

  What would you say to me, if you could speak my language, little stream? You’d probably say I’m going crazy.

  She sighed, then reached into the stream to alleviate her thirst.

  She couldn’t imagine what Toler might think, or how he might feel, if he knew of her…

  What is it? It isn’t attraction…well, it isn’t just attraction. It’s…it’s in my body, my le-feer, my mind. I couldn’t resist it even if I tried. I had no control. Not even a little. It just overcame me. I don’t want this. I don’t want any part of this but…he’s…he’s irresistible…

  Her heartstar’s beating drummed faster as she relived the moments before their eyes parted ways. She remembered the blue, green, and purple hues of his irises. She thought of his deep purple hair that caressed the sides of his face until it reached those broad, strong shoulders. She could still hear his husky voice in her head. From the one word Atlase had uttered, her mind crafted sentences that he might one day tell her, truths they might one day share.

  Yara hated herself for what she was feeling. She knew nothing about this Eld, this Spreuken, and now his father seemed to have been associated with hers in an elaborate plot against the Agarbs. There was no explanation for her feelings, or at least no logical one. Her mind fluttered through the possibilities, and paused upon one.

  What did her father being a Spreuken mean to the Eld, and why hadn’t Master Nox told her? If she was born of both Houses, and she wasn’t purely an Agarb, what was she? Did she still have Spreuken qualities? Was it, perhaps, her Spreuken side reaching out to Atlase?

  She burned with questions. She knew this wasn’t something she could talk to Toler or Grandam about, as she suspected it might be something only an Eld could explain. Or at least, so she told herself. She needed to justify keeping this part of herself from them, at least until she could explain it.

  Closing her iridescent eyes, and breathing deeply, she felt her pulse begin to relax again. She couldn’t think about this. Not now, not when so much was at stake. She wanted only to understand her role as the Eld Queen. It was her priority. No, it was her duty.

  Pushing herself up, she allowed her determined will to consume her thoughts as she pushed Grandam’s door open once again.

  Focus, Yara... Focus.

  ***

  “Guidestar… are you there?”

  Yara lay on her swaddling in her quarters after spending the rest of her day with Grandam and Toler. The revelations of their research worried her even more. She had thought her greatest challenge would be understanding how to lead as the Eld Queen. She now realized that she couldn’t begin to do that when she did not know all that she did not know. How could anyone make a plan with so many unseen variables? With no context, knowledge, culture or history?

  “Guidestar…I need you!”

  She listened for a few moments to the groans of the mountain and the new sounds of Mira. She could hear the Sapstreams singing their splashing songs. She even heard footsteps passing by through the tunnels. She heard everything, except Guidestar.

  The silence aggravated her. Her Guidestar never seemed to respond when she wanted answers. Instead, she was bombarded by the strange, indescribable voice only when an unidentified factor seemed to deem a contribution necessary.

  But right in this moment, Yara desperately needed that contribution. She felt confused and out of sorts. She had learned that while the other Eld Queens had a strong relationship with their le-feer, none had ever spoken of a voice connected to it. Instead, they spoke of interpreting the pulses and their markings’ various glowing intensities. It was the only language they shared with Sunstar.

  “Your Guidestar seems to be the first of its kind, only mentioned in the prophecy of the Ka-Eld,” Grandam had told her as Toler stared at Yara in wonder. He had not known of her inner voice. He also hadn’t known that she had died in the tunnels. He had reacted angrily toward Grandam when he learned the truth, until Yara explained that Grandam knew she had to die...and that her Eld markings had appeared because of it.

  “I don’t know who wrote the Ka-Eld prophecy as it was not signed by any Eld Queen,” Grandam had continued, “but it did bear the marking of Sunstar, and it was sealed with secrecy. I was the first of my line to break the seal. The inscription on the seal instructed that it should only be broken if the unmarked Ka-Eld appeared. I never knew what that meant until you first came to the Skotad territory. We can only assume it was left by someone who trusted that it would be opened at the right time. For that reason, I do not think it wise for you to tell anyone else of your Guidestar. They may deem it as a threat or, even worse, as an abomination. Perhaps you should ask it what, or who, it is…and what it wants from you.”

  Yara had shuddered at Grandam’s warning. While Toler seemed to be in awe of her vocal connection to what he assumed was a manifestation of Sunstar’s voice, it had the opposite effect on Yara.

  She had just begun to find her place among her kind. She felt like she finally had the answers she longed for all of her life…answers she never thought she would get. But now they were unraveling before her, serving only to reinforce the nightmares of her old Photak life.

  As her eyes welled up, Yara squeezed them shut with exasperation, turning her face into the feathered pillows of her swaddling. There was no denying it. This revelation meant the worst possible
thing. While she knew she was definitely of Eld lineage…

  I still don’t belong… not to any Tribe, not to the Eld, not to anyone. I’m the only one of me, with a voice from an unknown source stuck in my head. And I’m… I’m all alone… I’m really the freak of Mira, a complete abomination!

  Chapter Five

  Maia

  Four Thousand Years Ago

  Maia gently stroked her belly as her unborn baby moved strongly within her. She was not showing yet – Eld babies developed first in strength and spirit before they did in size. It would be six months into her pregnancy before her le-feer would give off the lifegiver’s glow, and another three months before her womb would rapidly begin to expand. In the tenth month, her daughter would be born. She and her mate had decided it would not be wise to announce that the heir to the Eld throne was on her way until then. Not with all they were finally beginning to uncover.

  “Jaren…she’s moving again,” Maia whispered, her face flooded with happiness.

  Jaren jumped up from his wooden desk and hurried toward her, excited to feel his baby and desperate to not miss it as he had the last two times.

  He rested his large Spreuken-marked hand upon Maia’s womb, his face overcome with emotion.

  Maia laughed heartily at her mate’s expression as he struggled, quite comically, to maintain a degree of stately manliness.

  “Oh Jaren, don’t pretend that you’re handling this. Even at just two months within me, our strong Yasmin knows, as do I, that you’re the real baby here!”

  Her baby fired off a mini kicking frenzy directly into Jaren’s hand, whose fingers were now interlocked with Maia’s, in response.

  All his attempts at strength failed as his eyes flooded with tears above his wide, loving smile.

  “She loves her name, and your laugh, Maia…”

  “No, she loves when I tease you, my love. She’s all the trouble and mischief I hoped she would be.”

  Reaching over to embrace her, Jaren lowered his forehead onto Maia’s. With their markings now physically together, a flurry of shared thoughts was evoked. It was the most honest, naked expression that Elds could share—their clearest form of telepathy was through the physical connection of their markings. The Eld called it a temple bond, and through this connection even their daughter Yasmin would feel the soothing spirits of her parents reaching out to her with love.