Idriel's Children (Odriel's Heirs Book 2)

by Hayley Reese Chow

  “…too many…” her father said.

  “…too fast for flames…” her mother called back.

  “…we have to run…”

  “…it’s too late…”

  “No.” Aza shook her head. “That’s not real. They just left last week.”

  The keen of the Lost answered her cry, chased by the crackle of fire and the burning scent of charred flesh.

  Aza ground her teeth together, her muscles trembling. “Why is this all happening?”

  A gust of the Shadow Plane’s last command, sharp and final, pierced through Aza. “Find us.”

  Aza released the shadows and fell to her knees in the dark wood. She tried to quiet her heaving chest, but Shad’s strangely luminescent eye skewered her in the dark.

  “Now, why would a Shadow Heir go disappearing into the dark on a quiet night like this?”

  Ignoring him, Aza came to her feet. She rolled out her shoulders one by one and then shook out her legs, her parents’ voices on the Shadow Plane echoing in the cavern of her mind.

  He cocked his small black head. “It wouldn’t be that mysterious Shadow Plane your brother was talking about, would it?”

  Aza sighed and wiped her damp brow. “You’re really nosy for a cat. Did you know that?”

  She walked past him into the camp, her gaze finding her brother. Zephyr sat close together with Hoku, while Luna stretched out at their feet. His head bent next to Hoku’s as she told him something with a smile.

  Aza crouched on his other side, waiting for him to look up. Luna snuffled at her pockets, and Aza absently fed her the bit of dried meat she’d saved for her. Makeo nudged Hoku and nodded at Aza.

  Hoku cut her sentence short with a furrowed brow. “Aza, are you okay?”

  Aza nodded with a tight smile. “I just need to borrow my brother for a moment.”

  “What, Aza?” Zephyr frowned as she pulled him deeper into the trees.

  Aza ran a thumb along the scar on her sweat-slicked cheek, trying to look for the right words so he didn’t explode with anger. “I…”

  But she didn’t get further than that before his eyes widened with furious understanding. “You crossed over to the Shadow Plane, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Now, how long will it be before you can Shadow Step again? What happens if we get attacked—”

  “I heard Mother and Father,” Aza cut in, her voice quiet under his bubbling outrage. “They sounded like they were in trouble.”

  Zephyr crossed his arms. “Oh? And does the Shadow Plane give you the ability to hear leagues away now?”

  “I don’t know, but—”

  “This sounds like you had some kind of waking nightmare.” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How do you know it’s real and not your mind playing tricks on you?”

  Aza gritted her teeth. “Even if it wasn’t real. I think it was a warning.” She gestured around them. “All this can’t be a coincidence, Zephyr. Maybe the Shadow Plane is tied to it somehow.” She paused, her voice low and urgent. “I have to find out.”

  “No.” The muscle in his jaw bulged, and he jerked a hand toward the camp. “We can’t abandon the Maldibor. They’re practically like our second family.”

  “But you don’t need me, Zephyr,” she reasoned, hoping to appeal to his vanity. “You’ve got a dozen Greens you’ve trained yourself and fire at your fingertips.”

  “You’ve heard the Maldibor’s stories, Aza. Not everything can be killed with fire and steel.” His eyes glinted in the dark. “Especially not in Carceroc.”

  Aza held his gaze, hunting for the words he needed to hear. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I can return.”

  He stabbed a finger into her collar. “You’re not going.”

  Aza stared, her thoughts running away with her. Why was he being so stubborn? Was the courageous Dragon Heir scared? For her safety? Or for his own? In the end, it didn’t really matter. She wanted him to understand, but she didn’t need his permission.

  “The Dragon and Shadow butting heads?” Shad padded toward them on silent paws. “Now, why does this look familiar?”

  Zephyr’s gaze branded Aza with one last scorching look before turning to Shad. “Just a heart-to-heart between siblings.” He shrugged and started back to the fire. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Aza stayed where she was, her gaze drifting up to the stars peeking between the evergold branches.

  “The Shadow Plane worries you?” Shad’s one remaining pupil narrowed to a slice of black.

  She ironed her features to neutral and turned toward the laughter still buzzing around the fire. “Worrying brings no answers.”

  That’s why she had to go find them for herself.

  ✽✽✽

  Aza let herself doze against a tree while she waited for the camp to fall asleep. Her eyes flicked open while the waxing moon still hovered high in the constellations. A Green kept watch on the other side of the still-bright fire. Her muscles ached from her time in the Shadow Plane, but she didn’t need to Shadow Step to avoid one person’s eyes. She rose silently and crept through the night.

  Hoku’s Dalteek’s ears flicked toward Aza as she approached it, but didn’t startle as she slipped the letter she’d written into one of the saddle bags, making sure it stuck out enough to be easily noticed. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through its thick black and white fur and bury her face in its shaggy mane. Hopefully, the ink would explain her absence better than her tongue had. Hoku had to understand. But if she didn’t… Aza would just have to ask forgiveness later.

  Sighing, she padded over to where Oakhoof dozed standing up. She was far enough away now that the Green wouldn’t notice her, but she wouldn’t take any chances. Aza ran a gentle hand over Oakhoof’s soft nose, and the mare’s eyes flicked open. Aza hushed her and, pulling gently on her halter, led her to the dirt road.

  As she walked away from the camp, Aza took one last look at the glowing fire, a stab of regret twisting her gut. Sneaking off into the night felt cowardly, but she couldn’t have her brother making another scene either. She didn’t want to alarm or rattle the Greens. So, she would do what she did best. She would disappear, and her brother would explain it away like it had been the plan all along. His pride demanded it so.

  The path curved around the ridge, and the fire faded from sight. A soft gust ruffled her hair. Savoring the quiet of the night, it felt good to be out on her own at last. Free to go where she wished without anyone else’s ridiculous opinions. She could move fast and didn’t have to waste time putting her decisions up for committee. No matter what the others thought, she knew this was the right thing to do. Someone was calling her, and she had to figure out who.

  She was leading Oakhoof down a sinuous mountain path when a faint whinny broke through the silence from below. In a heartbeat, Aza dropped to a crouch with a long dagger in each hand. Who could be on the mountain in the middle of the night? Aza looked down the switchback curving through the rocky mountainside and could just make out a familiar silhouette against the moonlit night.

  Makeo.

  A thousand curses rattled through Aza’s thoughts, but only one option. With a sigh, Aza sheathed her daggers and guided Oakhoof down the last bends in the path. It had been easy enough to avoid one Green’s eyes, but a Maldibor’s nose and ears were a different matter.

  Aza stopped three paces from where Makeo blocked the path, his Dalteek calmly grazing in the trees beside him. The familiar musk of a Maldibor drifted through the air between them. Her gaze flicked to the black cat perched on the Dalteek’s saddle. And Shadmundar too? She rubbed the back of her neck, still sore from the Shadow Plane. Were they here to try to stop her? What would she do if they were?

  Makeo turned his long muzzle to Shad. “I told you her mind was already made up.”

  Shadmundar’s one-eyed stare glided from Aza to Makeo and back. “Well, I’m glad I haven’t been robbed of a night’s sleep for nothing.”

  “What are you doing here?” Aza as
ked softly, fiddling with the hilt of one of her many blades.

  “Coming with you, obviously,” Shad said.

  Aza’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “What about your people in Carceroc, Makeo?”

  “Carceroc has been quiet for centuries,” Makeo rumbled. “If the Shadow Plane is causing the unrest, we need to know how to stop it.”

  Aza flicked a knife in and out of its sheath. “But my brother thinks it’s just in my head, you know.”

  “That’s not what I think.” He took a step closer to her, his forest green gaze taking her back to a different night when those same eyes had stared out of a fourteen-year-old boy, his features still soft with childhood.

  She skipped backward, teasing with a smile. “You’ll have to keep up if you want to help me find the Dolobra.”

  “Just try me, shadow-girl,” he said as he followed her, his cracking, boyish laugh ringing through the dark.

  Of course, they’d found blood instead.

  She shook her head, coming back to the shaggy beast in front of her. He had changed so much; it was hard to believe he was only a year older than her, as if the curse had aged him as well.

  “I don’t need—"

  “Stop.” Shad sighed. “Spare us your lone warrior’s speech. You don’t know what you’re walking into, so how can you know if you’ll need our help?”

  Aza’s mouth shut with a click. She twirled her dagger and studied her companions for a moment. Makeo’s strength was undeniable. He towered over her with shoulders twice as broad as a barrel-chested man. But with a Maldibor at her side, it would be practically impossible to pass unnoticed—definitely not her style. His green eyes crinkled with a smile that didn’t reach his gaping jaws.

  Her gaze slid to Shad. While she didn’t much care for another voice telling her what to do, Shadmundar had traveled with Everard for almost a century, and his eyes glittered with a lifetime of knowledge.

  Aza lifted her chin to where the trail branched to the east. “Come if you must. But we’ll have to move fast, I—”

  Scrabbling rocks ricocheted through the night somewhere on the incline. Makeo’s wolf-like ears stood at attention, and he turned back the way they’d come. Aza could almost make out the twitching of his wet canine nose in the darkness.

  Someone was rushing haphazardly down the path, pulling a horse behind them. Odriel’s teeth. Another one? The figure caught sight of them and waved. He left the path and half-slid down the slope while his horse continued its more sensible descent without him. Finally at the bottom, he leaned over with his hands on his knees, panting heavily before continuing on.

  Makeo’s face cracked into a sharp-toothed smile, and Aza squinted to try to make out who was leaping through the long grass.

  “Aza!” the figure called in a voice she was sure the whole mountain could hear.

  Aza narrowed her eyes at Makeo. “You invited Witt Corser?”

  Makeo chuckled deep in his throat. “Not me.” He held his huge bear paws up in surrender.

  “Aza!” Witt called again as he drew near. “Zeph sent me.”

  Aza squeezed her temples with a hand and gritted her teeth. “Why?”

  Still panting, Witt shrugged. “He wanted you to be safe, of course.”

  Odriel take him. Was this her brother’s punishment for running off? She gestured to Shad and Makeo. “Well, as you can see, I already have plenty of—”

  “Supplies,” Makeo finished for her. “Glad you’ll be coming along.”

  Aza glared at him.

  Witt practically glowed. “To be honest, I’m flattered that Zeph asked.” He turned to Aza with a mischievous smirk. “But you know, Aza, the Greens will probably assume we ran off together.”

  Aza didn’t try to rein in the horror she was sure ran rampant on her face, and Makeo barked with laughter.

  Witt’s horse snuffled his neck, and Witt winked at Aza. “Zephyr’s always trying to play matchmaker.”

  Aza’s horror dripped into disgust. She crossed her arms to stop herself from stabbing Witt and making a run for it. But she couldn’t give him the satisfaction when he was just trying to goad her. Maybe she could lose him on the way, when she was far enough not to have to worry about Zephyr chasing after them.

  “Fine.” Aza turned on her heel and stalked down the trail. “But you have to keep up. I’m not waiting for your sorry hide.”

  Witt whooped as he followed her. “This is so much better than a dance.”

  “Quiet, sheep-brain! You’ll wake up the mountain!”

  “Right, right,” Witt said, unphased by Aza’s acid words. “But Aza—"

  “Stop talking, Witt.”

  For a brief moment, they walked in silence, following the mountain foothills to the east. As they crested a rise, Aza looked out into the heartland of Okarria. The full moon bathed the fields and forests in a silver glow. Tucked higher up in the peaks, a distant lantern twinkled in a window from her mother’s childhood town of Arimoke.

  “Aza?” Witt whispered again.

  Aza sighed. “What?”

  “Where are we actually going?”

  Aza’s eyes rolled so hard it almost hurt. Makeo rumbled with barely suppressed laughter, his green eyes twinkling in the moonlight. Only Shad seemed to share her distaste.

  She could just barely make out his grumble. “I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”

  Well, no one asked you to. Aza swallowed the caustic thought.

  The freedom that had lightened her steps only an hour before flittered off into the night. It was one thing to run off on a possible fool’s errand on her own, it was a different thing to drag the others into who knew what. The three liabilities weighed on her like a heavy steel yoke chafing at her shoulders.

  But at least she was moving in the right direction.

  Chapter Six

  More than Lost

  The sun had come and gone again before Aza finally allowed them to stop for the night. Though there was a town only a few miles ahead, she preferred to shelter in the quiet of the wood, away from prying eyes and nosy questions. Witt collected some herbs and roots to add to a brace of hedge hens Aza had managed to bring down, and the aroma of meat and spice bubbled in the air. Stirring the pot of bubbling soup hanging over the glowing coals, Witt filled every threat of silence with his constant prattle of the various seasons for prime ingredients.

  “I’m beginning to think I preferred traveling with Conrad’s soldiers,” Shad grumbled. “At least they were quiet.”

  Makeo rose and walked back to the road. His ears and nose twitched as his gaze swiveled up and down the forest lane. Aza stood and walked to his side.

  Aza crossed her heavy arms and sagged against the rough trunk of a nearby crimson oak. “Don’t tell me we have yet another annoying tail?”

  “Perhaps. There’s a strange smell in the air.”

  Aza straightened, her gaze sweeping the empty dirt road cutting between the trees. “I guess you still have that same strange way of knowing things then?”

  “My uncle says it’s a side-effect of the yanaa that taints our veins—it gives us a heightened sense of foreboding.” He shrugged his huge, shaggy shoulders. “Or perhaps it is just an unusually powerful nose.” Makeo nodded his head toward the fire and held out a clawed hand.

  “Stew is served!” Witt called, as if on cue.

  Aza raised her eyebrows and turned toward the camp. “Almost like one of Odriel’s Blessed.”

  Makeo made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a growl. “More like Ivanora’s silver lining.”

  “Who’s Ivanora?” Witt asked, looking up from the stew.

  Makeo settled by the fire and accepted a bowl. “The lady magus my ancestor spurned. So, she cursed him and his offspring with the smell, voice, and form of the beast.” He gestured to himself.

  “Except for the night of the dark moon,” Aza added, remembering the short smiling boy Makeo had been. She took a bowl from Witt and settled next to the warmth of the flames
. What did Makeo look like on his human nights now?

  “Yes. A man for one day in twenty-one.” Makeo’s eyes crinkled at her with something akin to wistfulness. “Always a day to look forward to.”

  No sooner was his bowl empty, than Witt snored loudly at the fire’s edge next to the tightly curled ball of Shad. Aza sagged against her pack, her leaden eyelids drooping toward her cheeks. She had barely slept in two days, and her restoring yanaa still sapped her strength. Makeo sat on a log across the fire from her, but his eyes were still trained toward the road.

  “Go ahead and sleep, Aze,” he rumbled. “I’ll take first watch.”

  Aza opened her mouth to object, but her words slipped from her mind like water through a sieve. Her eyelids dipped again, and this time, she let them fall closed.

  ✽✽✽

  The headless child faced her once again, pointing at her, with the screams of the Shadow Plane swirling around them in a vortex of darkness. She strained against the spinning shadows that pushed her back, but it was useless. Falling to her hands and knees, she reached into the expanse. She edged forward just enough to catch a glimpse of her parents, surrounded by bloodied warriors with black-filled eyes.

  Aza lost her footing and the shadows ripped her backward like a leaf in the rapids. She slammed onto her back, the air knocked from her lungs. As she gasped for breath, the bulbous eye in the chest of the headless child peered over her.

  When it opened its neck wound of a mouth, it was the whispers of the Shadow Plane that echoed out. “Azzzzzzaaaaa.” The creature grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her inches away from its night-black eye. “Find us.” Aza leaned away from the grotesque creature.

  “Azzzzzzzzzzzzzaaa. Aza. Aza!”

  The voice morphed from the eerie keen of the Shadow Plane to a low growl. It took Aza a moment to bob up from the depths of sleep and realize someone was actually calling her name. Aza’s heavy eyelids fluttered open to see the bright green eyes of a beast looking down on her in the darkness. She tensed, her hand flying to the dagger at her hip. Shaking herself free from the clutches of the dream, she tried to remember where she was through the surreal fog still clouding her mind.