The air charged unnaturally, and the last thing Runa heard was Kell.
“Wait, my staff!”
3
Runa
The wind howled like an otherworldly beast, ripping through Runa’s hair as she stared out at an ocean of dark blue water. She was standing on a large platform of jagged, black stone, that jutted over crashing waves. The sea felt angry, not at her, but at the stone beneath her. The water pounded again and again against the cliff, and vibrations hummed against the soles of her bare feet.
Wait, how did I get here? Runa frowned at the unfamiliar landscape. She’d been at home with Lyric and with … with the songsmith, Kell, that’s right. They’d been talking, and she’d shown him the runes on her chest and then … Mother? Their mother had arrived.
A memory of their conversation drifted back to her, and Runa turned around, looking for Lyric and Kell and Elaina. Where were they?
There was a castle behind her, a massive structure of spikes and night-black stone, rising into a sky that was — Wait, where was the sky? Something else rippled overhead, gray and filmy, like fabric.
She should feel afraid, shouldn’t she? Was it odd that she didn’t? Runa was … comfortable. All the frustration and anger and hopelessness of the past six months was softened, watered down, like her emotions were on the other side of a deep pool of water, and all she felt was their echo.
Runa stepped backward, her heel scraping against a sharp edge of stone. She looked down, surprised by the sensation. She could feel. It hurt.
“You’re a small thing, aren’t you,” a sharp voice said, disapprovingly.
Runa turned around, surprised but not alarmed, and found an old woman standing between her and the edge of the cliff. She was small, like Runa, and had a cross expression on her face, her lips twisted and thin. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and they glared out from beneath graying brows that slashed down over them. She had a presence that made Runa feel like a small rodent frozen in the shadow of a hawk’s sharp claws.
This woman commanded and expected to be obeyed. Her thick white hair hung in three braids over her shoulders, the snowy strands twisted around small, blood-red gems. She was wearing a black dress, long and fitted, with a high collar. Pinned over her throat was a silver dragon, its wings outstretched, giving the impression that she had spikes jutting out from either side of her neck.
Runa felt a combination of unease and awe, but the emotions were distant. She knew she needed to be cautious of this woman, but not fearful.
“Who are you?” Runa asked. She was proud of how clear and strong her voice was. No one would bully her, not even this strange woman with dangerous eyes.
“I am Elenora,” the woman said. She eyed Runa with disdain, sniffing as she noted her simple dress of gray wool and her unbound hair. Her eyes lingered on Runa’s bare toes, then lifted back to her face.
“I don’t know where my shoes went,” Runa said, feeling like she had to explain. “I haven’t thought about my feet much. No reason for it. I haven't felt any sensations in a long time.” She frowned. Why was she confiding in this stranger?
“You’re a shade,” Elenora said, as though excusing Runa’s indecorum. Then she sniffed and folded her hands. “But appearance always matters, especially for a princess of the Scorched Court.”
Runa frowned, eyeing the woman’s arrogant face. Was she making fun of her in some way?
“I’m the daughter of a village wise woman,” Runa said.
Elenora laughed, a harsh and discordant sound. “A what?” she asked. “A soldier, perhaps, or a pirate. That girl was always a handful.”
“That girl?” Runa asked. She eyed Elenora. Clearly, the woman was confused.
Elenora sighed, disappointed. “Your mother, Elaina’delaina. Really, child, she never told you?” She sighed again and sent a look skyward towards the strange, rippling grayness. “I see this will take longer than expected.” Her eyes narrowed, and she refocused on Runa’s face.
“You are not from some backwater village, girl,” Elenora said. “Your blood is the blood of dragons, of Raendashar. You are a Burner, a Raendasharan mage!” The old woman pursed her lips. “At least you will be once I’m done with you.”
“A … what?” Runa asked. What in Hel’s name was she talking about? She’d heard of Raendashar before. It was a harsh, coastal country, as far east as you could get from Kaliz without walking into the Sea of Screams. Raendashar was at war, wasn’t it? With the Sireni? They bordered the Tainted Shore.
Abruptly the small woman loomed in front of her, and Runa bit her tongue in surprise. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she nearly reached up and covered it with her hand, marveling at the sensation. She could feel her heart again. What was going on? She was still a ghost, still unmoored from her body, but something was changing here. Runa felt solid, more alive.
“I’m going to help you,” Elenora said. She smiled a fierce, dangerous smile. “I’m going to teach you.”
“Teach me?” Runa asked.
Elenora sighed. “Find your head, girl,” she said. “I’ll quickly tire of you if you’re going to echo everything back at me. I’ll talk to you again, after —”
Everything disappeared.
Runa blinked, her eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. She was cold, and the air stank like something was rotting nearby. “Ugh,” she said, staring into the dark.
The ornery old woman was gone. Had she dreamed it? Their conversation had felt real. As real as … whatever this place was.
Who was Elenora and why did she think their mother was from Raendashar? Had Runa just spoken to one of the old demigods, who’d disappeared from the world? She was clearly not one of the Trinity, but perhaps —
“Runa?”
She spun at the sound of her sister’s voice. Lyric stood behind her, her shape barely visible in the gloom.
“Just a moment.” That was Elaina’s voice, their mother. She said something else that Runa didn’t understand, and then dim light flared overhead.
Looking up, Runa saw an orb of light about the size of an apple. There was another above Lyric’s head, who stared up at it with undisguised wonder, another over Kell, and a fourth above Elaina.
“There,” Elaina said, running her fingers over something on her belt. She lifted her head and looked around expectantly.
Runa, following her gaze, saw nothing but endless darkness in all directions. The inky ground, empty and featureless save for the occasional edge of white rock illuminated by their light, was slick beneath her feet.
Taking a step away from her, Lyric bent down and touched one of the rocks, half-embedded in the ground. “It’s pitted, like old bone,” she said, surprised.
The light above Lyric’s head followed her as she moved, and Runa stared up at the one above her own head again. It was magic, wasn’t it? Their mother had done magic. She shot Elaina a suspicious look, which their mother accepted with a raised brow.
“Where are we?” Lyric asked, before Runa could voice the question herself.
“This place has many names,” Elaina said, “but the most common name is the Veil. This place is what separates the living world from the dead.”
Old stories filled Runa’s head, as her imagination conjured unseen specters in the dark. “Where ghosts go,” Runa said. She wet her lips, her skin growing cold. Was it dangerous for her to be here? Bodiless as she was, what would happen if she accidentally crossed over into the Underworld? “Why bring us here?” she asked, feeling a small needle of panic.
Elaina eyed her, concern and something else filling her eyes. “It’s the perfect place to stash a body and hold it in stasis,” their mother said. “Your body's here, somewhere.
“When I learned they'd kidnapped you, I started looking. I was afraid they’d take Lyric next, so I decided to get her and … and I found both of you.” She looked at Lyric and Runa, and then Kell. Something inscrutable passed between them before Elaina’s eyes returned to Runa. “We’re together
now, so we can focus on reuniting you with your body,” Elaina said.
Runa narrowed her eyes, observing Kell and their mother. She opened her mouth to ask how they knew each other, but Lyric spoke into the silence.
“How did you bring us here, Mama?” Lyric asked. Her face was puzzled, her green eyes filled with questions.
Runa thought back to her strange conversation with Elenora. Why had the woman focused on her? Why not Lyric? Should she tell their mother what had happened? She looked at Elaina’s impassive face and felt resentment rise in her throat.
“She’s a mage,” Runa said, her voice flat. “A Burner.” She watched their mother’s face and caught a faint flicker of surprise.
Lyric blinked rapidly, her brows knotting over her eyes. “A what? No ... I mean ... how do you know?”
Runa shrugged one shoulder, earning an irritated huff as Lyric crossed her arms.
Her sister looked at their mother and tapped a finger against her lips. “The tattoo, the lights ... us coming here ... when did you learn how to do this?” She frowned, perhaps unsure if she should be impressed or annoyed. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Learning magic?” Lyric asked. “Since you left?”
“I think she’s always been one,” Runa said. “You’re from Raendashar.”
Again, there was no denial in their mother’s eyes.
“Ru, how do you —” Lyric said.
“Can we talk about this later?” Elaina asked. “They can follow us here.”
“They,” Runa said flatly. “Again with the mysterious ‘they.’ No, Mother. I think it’s time you tell us what’s going on, and who you are. Can we even trust you anymore? I’m not sure.”
Kell, an uncertain smile on his face, stepped forward. “I think your mother is just trying to protect you,” he said.
“We’re not children, Kell,” Runa said.
“No, no, of course.” Kell awkwardly stepped back. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking chastised.
Runa resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Lyric laid a hand on Kell’s arm and smiled reassuringly. He’s not one either, Runa wanted to say.
“My father is King of Raendashar,” Elaina said. There was a challenge in her eyes, one that Runa met with a firm-eyed stare of her own. Thanks to Elenora, whoever she was, this was not as shocking as it would have been.
Kell’s eyes snapped back to Elaina’s face. Was that something he hadn’t known?
“King?” Lyric breathed, dropping her hand from Kell’s arm. “You’re a …” She stopped speaking, head tilting. “Hasn’t Raendashar been at war for hundreds of years? With the Sireni?”
Why was Lyric asking about the Sireni? Runa thought, looking at her sister. About sailors?
“Yes,” Elaina said, her lips thinning.
“Why?” Lyric asked. “Over what? I’ve heard stories…”
“About Serith and the Three?” Elaina asked. “Yes, that is likely why the war began. Raendashar claimed Serith and her Sireni acted with cowardice in the Demon War, and the Sireni contended that it was the dragons and their human armies who abandoned Serith.
“Today, the war continues because of my father’s aggression and the desire of some of the Sireni to reclaim land they believe is sacred.”
“Land?” Runa asked incredulously. “What do they care for land?”
“There’s a story that the ground beneath Rathgar’s Hold, Raendashar’s capital, was once a tideland where Serith held court. Those who want the land returned, believe Delbaeken the Black built the city there to spite them and Serith. Over the years, peace has been brokered and broken many times.”
“Broken?” Lyric asked.
Runa studied Elaina’s face. There was something in their mother’s eyes. Disgust? Horror? Guilt?
“My father, under the guise of peace, invited the Sireni council, their Gales, to meet south of Rathgar’s Hold. Understandably suspicious, they sent a Gale’s daughter to represent them. My father killed her. Just because he could.” Her eyes flashed, anger boiling inside them.
Runa stared at her. So their mother had lied about their family. They had a grandfather, and he was a murderer?
“She was young, like I was,” Elaina continued. “After it happened, I left and tried to get as far from Raendashar as I could. I ended up in Elae’s Hollow and met Mistress Ireina, and fell into the role of the village wise woman when she passed. Several years after that your father …” Her voice cut off, and she licked her lips, looking down at her hands. “Then I had you,” she said. Their mother looked back up and offered a small, pained smile. “My girls.”
Runa looked away, unsure of what to feel.
“Did your father, our … grandfather, know where you went?” Lyric asked.
“No,” Elaina said. “I didn’t realize that my leaving would intensify the war.”
“He used your disappearance to claim the Sireni retaliated,” Runa said, clenching her fists. If he wanted the war to continue … “He thought they killed you or said so.”
"I was made aware of this, and was … convinced to return home," Elaina said. She looked angry and sad. Her eyes glinted, and Runa thought she might cry. Instead, Elaina straightened. "I would never have left you if it'd been possible to protect you in Kaliz. There wasn't time to leave a note, and honestly … I'm not sure what I'd have said. No child deserves that, to feel abandoned, and I know you must hate me, but…but I truly thought I did the right thing. I still don't see a better path I could have taken."
Anger and pain warred inside Runa’s chest. Her lungs were tight, and it hurt to breathe. Did their mother, Elaina, have any idea how they’d felt when she’d disappeared? How Runa waited, night after night on the porch, watching for her, wondering if she was injured or lost? Had she considered how long Lyric cried, or their terror when days stretched into weeks, into months, into years? Had she thought about how they’d try to find her?
Runa wanted to hate her, wanted to yell at her to leave them alone, tell her that they were better off without her, but she couldn’t. After everything that happened, she still couldn’t hate her. Before their abandonment, Runa had never doubted their mother loved them. Elaina had never been cruel, not once.
“You don’t see a better path that you could have taken,” Runa repeated back, her voice cold and flat. “Maybe if you’d stayed, we would have been prepared when they came for us. Someone tried to kidnap me, kidnap us, because you’re the daughter of a barbaric, warmongering king. They’re trying to flush you out. Why do they want you so badly? And if you were so careful protecting us, how did they find out about us?”
Guilt flashed across their mother’s face, clear as day, and then anger rushed in to replace it. Did she know who’d betrayed her? Runa felt a heartless flicker of satisfaction.
“Are you the heir?” Lyric asked. “To the Raendasharan throne?”
Their mother’s jaw tightened. “I am now,” she said. “There were five of us … two older and two younger. They’re all dead now — casualties of war. The Sireni know I’m the only one left. They know I’m not with my father, so they’re hunting me. I’ve evaded them —”
“Which is why they decided to grab us,” Runa said.
Elaina dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Even without me, if the Sireni have you or Lyric then they have a legitimate claim to the Raendasharan throne and a seat in the Scorched Court. They could marry you to a Sireni captain. Or …” She paused. “Or they could use you to persuade King Rakarn to cede the city in exchange for your lives.”
Runa glanced at her sister. She couldn’t feel Lyric’s emotions here, not like at home, but as usual her thoughts were plastered all over her face. Lyric wanted to help their mother and get involved in the war. She never could stand the thought of someone dying, not if she could prevent it. Dangle a sad, bloody story in her face, an estranged grandfather, and Lyric wanted to rush off and fix everything.
Perhaps Elaina could still read her brown-haired daughter too, for she stepped forward and g
rabbed Lyric’s shoulders. “I don’t want to bring you into this,” she said earnestly. She looked at Runa, including her. “I don’t want this war, my father, to dictate your lives, your future. We’ll recover your body, Runa, restore your soul and then we’ll —”
“What?” Runa interrupted. “Skulk away to another little village? Hide in the forest? We can’t go back to Elae’s Hollow. The Sireni know we exist now.”
“We can’t walk away from this,” Lyric said, putting a hand on their mother’s arm. “We won’t let you do this alone.”
“Do what, Ly. Hide?” Runa asked. She smiled, a tight twist of her mouth, as fury flashed across their mother’s face.
“Perhaps we should start moving again?” Kell asked, drawing everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat as Runa stared at him. “I realize there’s a lot here, a lot to go through, but if we are being pursued …” He gestured at the darkness around them.
“Yes, you’re right,” Lyric agreed. Lyric looked at Kell for longer than was necessary and then stepped back from Elaina, hiding a slight blush by shoving her hair behind one ear.
Kell and Lyric were both right; it didn’t make sense to escape whoever was after them, only to stand idly in one spot. It was a stupid move, and Runa was irritated at herself. There were still many unanswered questions, but they did not have to stand still for her to ask them.
“Yes,” Elaina said, sounding relieved. She rummaged in a pouch at her belt and withdrew a round object. Lifting her hand, she held it flat in the center of her palm. It looked like a compass, with a thin, black shard fixed to the top.
“What is that?” Runa asked, curious despite herself. She moved closer, watching as the shard spun wildly, wobbling on a pocket of air beneath it, and then pointed fixedly over Kell’s shoulder.
“That’s a shard of demon bone,” Kell said, his gaze tight to Elaina’s hand. He looked up at her. “Where did you get this?”
“It’s a compass,” Elaina said. “To find the waystation.”
“There are waystations here?” Lyric asked, her eyes widening. “You mean people come here regularly?”
Daughters of Fire & Sea Page 4