by JD Monroe
Velati laughed aloud. “Sister, you do not need to tell me of my own history. Your predecessor Ravira Mara saved my hide more than once on a bloody battlefield. I guarantee that your storybooks do not do them justice.”
“Then you should have no objection,” Sohaila said. “The first Lightweavers served by choice. This is my choice.”
“Sister, please,” Kaldir said. The thought of throwing her back into even worse danger was enough to boil his blood.
“I was called to the Marashti late,” Sohaila said, ignoring his interjection. Her eyes drifted to Kaldir, and the faintest flinch pulled at her eyes. “Before that, I was one of Queen Nephiram’s Iron Blade. I am not afraid of battle.”
Velati sighed. “Your fervor is much appreciated, but it does not qualify you as a Lightweaver.”
“Then teach me what I need to know,” she said. “Ask anyone here. I can handle it.”
“Absolutely not,” Kaldir said. “Sister, your place is here.” Here was safe. Beyond these walls, too much could happen to her. Had already happened.
“You have no right to tell me my place, General Dawnblaze,” Sohaila said mildly. “It is for you to deny my offer,” she said to Velati.
Tell her no. He wanted to be near her, but not if it meant she was in danger.
Dread prickled through his veins as Velati nodded. “If we are to fly on to the Shattered Cradle, I will not turn down the aid of the Marashti. If you’re willing, then I accept,” Velati said. “I’ll inform Mother Akshas. We leave tomorrow by noon.”
Irritation boiled in Sohaila’s veins as she stood in front of Mother Akshas. She felt like a novice again, being scolded for some minor breach in protocol and awaiting a sentence to scrub floors to meditate on her temperament.
The older woman’s gray eyes were narrowed as she regarded Sohaila, then Velati in turn. His formal black uniform made him look cold and imposing. His icy blue eyes were solemn, betraying no emotion.
“I have already given Sister Sohaila her orders,” Akshas said firmly. “She has enough work to keep her quite busy here. She cannot accompany you.”
“I mean no disrespect, Mother Akshas,” Velati said. “But she has valuable insight and skills that would be of aid to me. Furthermore, she wishes to go.”
“I forbid it.”
His voice was gentle, but his hard expression never faltered. “You cannot forbid it. Not to me.” The older woman’s nostrils flared with irritation. As the head of the Marashti order, Akshas answered to no one, at least in times of peace. “If it is of any comfort, I can tell you that we would be commandeering some of the Marashti soon anyway.”
“How is that of comfort?” Akshas snapped. Despite her diminutive stature, she was squared to Velati, her posture proud. “Shall I thank you? Shall I sing for joy as I send more of my charges to war?”
“We’re here to help people,” Sohaila said mildly. “I do no one any good cloistered behind these walls. Let me serve the Skymother with my gifts.”
Akshas shot her a withering look. “These walls protect her gifts. Be cautious that you do not interpret your personal desires as her divine will.”
A chill prickled down Sohaila’s spine, and she swallowed her instinctive retort. “Yes, Mother,” she said mildly. “I will continue to pray for guidance.”
The older woman turned her cold gaze back to Velati. “Speak plainly, kordari. Do I have a choice in the matter?” She threw her hand in a gesture toward Sohaila. “She has clearly already made her decision, so I suspect I know the answer.”
Sohaila’s cheeks flushed. She smoothed the dark blue travel cloak and resisted the urge to bow her head.
Velati didn’t flinch from her sharp tone. “Mother Akshas, I speak as the right hand of Viraszel Dawnblaze, the ranking member of the Arik’tazhan and commander of the Broodguard. Under the Queensfall Accord which has held since the fall of Empress Rezharani, the Arik’tazhan may conscript whoever we desire to protect our people. This is a time of war, and I will exercise that right,” Velati said. “To answer your question directly, no. You have no choice in this matter. I merely came to inform you out of courtesy.”
“We have different ideas of courtesy,” Akshas replied, setting her jaw defiantly. Sohaila wasn’t sure if the older woman really wanted her to stay or if she just disliked taking orders.
He nodded, unfazed by her rebuke. “Perhaps, and I do understand your consternation. In that vein, I’ll advise you to determine which of your sisters are most capable for battle healing. Depending on what we learn in the next few days, the Firestorm may be calling upon your aid.”
Akshas’s nostrils flared. “I understand. I don’t like this, and you can feel free to pass that along to the Firestorm.”
“Duly noted,” Velati replied. The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “I will relay the message with the utmost fidelity.”
Scowling, Akshas turned to Sohaila and opened her arms. She accepted the embrace, feeling the heavy weight of her disapproval in the silence. Her voice trembled as she murmured in Sohaila’s ear. “May you always keep the Mother in your sight.” She cupped Sohaila’s cheek gently. “I wish you would reconsider this. I cannot bear to lose another of my sisters.”
“I need to do this,” Sohaila replied quietly. “And hopefully you won’t have to.”
Akshas was grim as she pulled away, gesturing to Velati. Despite their contentious exchange, he bowed to her, letting her kiss his forehead. “May the Mother guide your steps and always keep you in her sight.”
“And you as well,” he murmured, grasping her wrists lightly. “Thank you, Mother Akshas.”
Sohaila’s heart pounded as she turned to follow him out of the office and into the spacious foyer outside. Several Shrine Wardens strolled through on their rounds, giving her a silent nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you for speaking for me.”
He turned to face her, gesturing subtly toward one of the large windows that overlooked the outdoor chapel. A pleasant, cool breeze wafted around them, carrying the rich scents of the forest into the stone corridor.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Velati stared down at her. There was a cold cast to his eyes, a hard armor that protected his thoughts. Why had he really accepted her offer? “Be very honest with me, sister,” he said. “Do you actually want to do this, or are you seeking justice for your friend? Perhaps vengeance for your own ordeal?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Not much, I suppose,” he said. “If you’re just worried about the other Marashti, we’ll deal with it. No offense to you, but you can’t fly in and save her. There’s no need for you to endanger yourself on principle.”
“She’s with him because of me,” she said. Because I defied him.
“No,” he said sharply. “She’s with him because Sidran has no honor and will use innocent people as leverage to get what he wants. Don’t take responsibility for burdens that don’t belong to you.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple,” he replied. “Answer my question. Do you truly want to leave here and go with us? This will not be a rollicking adventure from a storybook.”
Outside, a dozen novices tended to the sprawling gardens, dirt-streaked aprons covering their simple blue garments. Pruning the bushes and nurturing the flowers had once been her favorite task around the temple. It was simple, menial work, but it had always helped her make sense of the world while making it more beautiful. Watching as one of the novices gently cupped a huge yellow bloom, Sohaila said, “I love this place and the people here. But everything changed when I was taken. And I thought that coming home would be a relief, but it hasn’t been. Not one bit. I don’t fit here, and it feels like everyone knows it.”
“Because of your face?”
She scowled. “Not just that. But…that’s part of it.”
“You know covering it only makes people more curious,” he said.
“I’m not an idiot. I’m just not ready.” Her eyes stung, and she
turned her gaze to the garden while she willed the tears to go away.
He touched her shoulder lightly. A cool, calming aura radiated from him. “I meant no disrespect. Do what you must to feel whole. Believe it or not, I understand your feelings of isolation in a place that should be home. Just know that running away won’t change how you feel. Not about yourself or this place. And I hope you’re not throwing yourself into danger just to escape the discomfort of a transition.”
“I’m not,” she said. But maybe she was. “I need to do something. For Ayla and for myself.”
“What about the Sapphire Circle?”
She chewed at her lip. “I might have overstated things.”
“I know. I asked,” he said wryly.
“Technically, I was on the Sapphire Circle before being captured. They believed I was dead and replaced me, which was hardly my fault.” He chuckled. “But I was named to the Apothecary seat, and at only one hundred and six.”
“I’m impressed,” he said. His blue eyes bored through her, searching for something. Her heart thumped, but she didn’t look away. Finally, his gaze softened. “I’ll trust you at your word. If you walk out those doors with us, you accept the consequences and the dangers that come with it.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I accept.”
“Are your things ready?”
“I packed everything before dawn,” she said. “My bodyguards are waiting outside.”
He continued down the hall, headed for the main approach to the temple. Her cloak billowed behind her as she raced to keep up with his long strides. “We’ll discuss it more later, but you’ll learn there are protocols for the Lightweavers. You may have read my history, but I lived it.”
“Such as?”
“For one, you follow my orders,” he said. “As a sister of the Marashti order, you are likely accustomed to being shown deference wherever you go. I still have the utmost respect for your position and your talent, but you answer to me now. If I say you stay behind, you stay where I tell you. If I order you to leave and fly as fast as you can anywhere but here, you do it without hesitation.”
“But—”
“That is non-negotiable,” he said, glacial blue eyes narrowing. “If you don’t like it, stay here. I humored your bold demand to sit in my meeting, but only because of your connection to Sidran. You do not get to make such demands moving forward.”
Her cheeks heated. “I understand.”
He flashed a grin at her. “Excellent.” Still striding casually toward the main gates, he glanced down at her. “And should I worry about you and Dawnblaze?”
Her stomach lurched. “Why?”
“He was quite adamant that you stay here. I’d like to know why before I take both of you into battle,” he said. “He’s a good man, but I’m certain it’s not just out of some abstract devotion to the Marashti.”
“We have a history from long ago,” she said. “I think he just wants to protect me. Whether that’s because I’m Marashti or because of our past, I can’t really say. But there’s nothing else between us.”
Less than an hour as a Lightweaver, and she was already lying to a superior. Though she couldn’t name it, there was certainly something between her and Kaldir. Longing, desire, nostalgia, and lust, all mixed with a large dose of resentment.
“I see,” Velati said. “Is this history going to cloud your judgment?”
“No. I’ll do my job,” she said.
“Good.”
The front courtyard of the temple was bustling as Kaldir’s team prepared to leave. Still pretending to sweep the cobblestones, several novices watched as the Scalebreakers carefully laid out large leather harnesses rigged with canvas satchels. Kaldir spoke quietly to one of his subordinates, while Azeria opened a satchel to inspect its contents. He glanced up at her, but instead of a smile, he clenched his jaw and looked away.
Velati’s question about her objectivity hung in her mind as she watched Kaldir giving orders to his men. Just as she had always expected, he had grown to be a strong leader.
They’d often stolen away to the Skymother’s Crown, a natural cave filled with glittering crystals in the cliffs north of Ironhold. One summer afternoon, they’d lain in each other’s arms for hours after making love by the flickering light. She was content to listen to him breathe, wondering how such a force of nature was so enchanted with her. Though she’d been fiery and confident then, she’d secretly feared Kaldir Dawnblaze was far beyond her reach and just hadn’t realized it yet. Each moment with him was precious, and somehow dangerous, like he was always at risk of slipping away.
“I’m going to lead the Iron Blade one day,” he’d said, suddenly breaking the quiet.
“Queen Nephiram has a captain already,” she’d said, tracing his flat stomach and relishing the way the muscle twitched at her touch. Iridescent crystal reflected in colorful veils over his bronze skin. Their innate energy entwined, sending a pleasant current through her body. That was the feeling of us, of being inseparable.
“She will replace him,” he’d replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And she believed him. If there was any sense in the queen’s head, she would know that Kaldir was the best man for the job.
“What if I want to be the captain instead?”
“You could if you wished. If you could ever beat me with the sword.”
She pinched him lightly, prompting a chuckle as he grabbed her wrist. His laughter was so rare, she relished each time she heard it, lamenting when its echoes died in the cavern. “Perhaps I’ll become the queen instead, and you will serve me.”
“You are already my queen, and I am pleased to serve. My beautiful comet, blazing so bright the stars dare not show themselves in its wake.”
“And you are my little spark.”
“Little? Are you certain?”
“Yes. My tiny little spark,” she murmured. Then she squealed with delight as he wrestled her onto her back and showed her the error of her word choice. There was nothing little about Kaldir Dawnblaze.
How many times had she recalled those words? At least one of them had made good on their ambitions. She’d never truly dreamed of power, but was content to trail after Kaldir. His beautiful comet, chasing the sun across the sky. In his presence, she burned bright. She was happy.
She wasn’t unhappy now, or at least she hadn’t been before her captivity. But she hadn’t felt the sheer abandon and visceral pleasure of basking in his warmth in over fifty years. And with him standing so close, it was impossible to ignore the contrast, like she had emerged blinking from a cave that she hadn’t realized was so dark and constricted.
He was talking quietly to Azeria, who nodded emphatically. A pang of jealousy stitched through Sohaila. She was an attractive woman, though she had the beauty of a sharp, polished blade rather than a glittering bauble. A perfect fit for Kaldir.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. He was no longer hers to claim. She supposed she should be happy for them.
Marlena approached and smiled. “Glad to hear you’re coming with us,” she said. “You’re going to ride with me. Do you have all your things?” The woman’s approach was a welcome distraction.
“Over there,” Sohaila said, pointing. At the edge of the courtyard, Virnan and Enalah were rigging up her equipment. Much like the Chosen cargo, she had several large crates that had been wrapped with sturdy nets and secured with a large metal ring for a dragon to grasp in its claws.
“You pack heavy,” Marlena said, surveying the large stack of cargo.
“I packed the supplies to put half-dead dragons back on their feet,” Sohaila replied. The other woman’s eyes widened. “When do we leave?”
With the sun high overhead and the bells chiming the call to noon prayers, Sohaila rose in the sky over the Iveron Forest, headed northwest. Cold wind bit at her cheeks, compounded by the glacial aura surrounding Velati in his massive, pale-blue dragon form. She was nestled against his neck, while Marlena sat just behind her, bla
zing warm against her back. A thick leather strap was secured around his neck, though she kept the lightest grip on it. He’d growled a little as Marlena put it around his neck. As Marlena helped her climb onto his back, she’d whispered in Sohaila’s ear, “He won’t complain, but he hates it. Only for emergencies.”
In his scarlet-scaled form, Kaldir flew at the head of the diamond-shaped formation, with Azeria on his back. Six other dyads of dragons with hybrid riders flew around them, with Virnan and Enalah at the rear. Two Edra scouts rode their backs.
For a moment, she wondered if she had chosen differently all those years ago, if she might have been right there at Kaldir’s side, still fighting the same war. With a bit of embarrassment, she knew she would have never made it that far. Her mouth would have gotten her in trouble long before she became one of the elite.
As the sun crept past the horizon, painting the sky in fiery orange, the edge of the Iveron came into sight, a dark contrast to the pale, parched lands of Ifrahl beyond. Her skin crawled at the sight of the gray splotch marring her view. A familiar stone structure came into sight as the sky darkened.
At the front of the formation, Azeria put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Sohaila turned to watch as one of the Edra scouts on Virnan’s back carefully balanced, then shifted into a small brown bird. He soared downward, wings flapping rapidly against the darkening sky. “He’ll make sure they haven’t come back,” Marlena said into her ear.
Sohaila’s heart thumped. Surely the Chosen wouldn’t have returned. Her fingers tightened against the hard ridges of Velati’s neck as she watched the bird disappear into a tiny dot. The dragon contingent made a wide arc, circling miles away from the temple. They had just finished a second circuit when the brown bird fluttered back to land on Azeria’s shoulder. She raised her arm and made a circling gesture, then imitated a dive with her hand, pointing to the ground. The formation followed, descending toward the temple in a neat formation.
Sohaila braced herself as Velati landed beyond the courtyard. Deep grooves marred the dark stone. The faint smell of decay lingered in the still air.