Daughters of Fire & Sea

by Holly Karlsson

  “How do you know?” Runa asked.

  Laenadara raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking what evidence I have?”

  Runa nodded curtly, exchanging a look with Lyric who’d begun to frown.

  “The Mother shared visions with me,” Laenadara said, a faraway look in her eyes. “I have seen what lies beneath the dirt, the death that pools around Her roots.”

  Runa studied her. Whatever the High Priestess had seen scared her.

  “What is the Taint?” Lyric asked.

  Laenadara blinked, her eyes clearing. She no longer looked visibly shaken, resuming her composure. “I cannot say for sure,” Laenadara said. “What we know is that it was released by corrupted magic from a failed ritual that required massive amounts of power.”

  Laerdi made a pained sound and rubbed a hand across his jaw.

  Sashala, standing behind him, touched his shoulder.

  Gravely, Captain Eleden set aside his cup and rested a closed fist on his knee. “We weren’t sure what it was when it happened,” he said. “Our Screamers and Windcallers felt a surge of energy charging the air. Before we could move our ships in to observe, the power exploded outward. It knocked every one of our mages unconscious within a league of the Shore. Their noses bled, and they suffered vertigo for days afterward.

  “All sea life within range was killed, pulverized. It was weeks before we began to see the Taint’s effect showing itself as a green tide upon the Sea. By then, we realized Thenda was gone.”

  “Why didn’t you go to them after you felt the surge of power?” Lyric asked, eyes wide.

  “After what happened to our mages, the Gale decided we should stay away. They believed someone inside Thenda tried to use dark magic, something old and forbidden. The Gale thought it’d corrupt us and forbade anyone from helping or looking for survivors.”

  “You stayed away?” Lyric asked Eleden, her hand tight on Kell’s arm.

  Kell was pale, his face slick with sweat. One hand touched the skin of his throat, pressing against the tattoo. As Runa watched, the blue line writhed, and Kell took a shallow breath.

  “No,” Eleden said. “We went to the Shore. A handful of people survived, and we helped them best we could. Most chose to move on, to seek refuge in Oleporea or Raendashar. They wanted to forget, try to start over. Some believed the Old Ones were displeased and unleashed something against them.”

  “Mother felt their pain and suffering,” Laenadara said.

  “Who performed the ritual?” Runa asked. “Was it someone in the Thendan government or a priest mishandling with old magic?”

  Laenadara lifted an eyebrow. “No, it was King Rakarn of Raendashar.”

  Kell inhaled sharply and leaned forward, his hands surging to his throat.

  “Kell?” Lyric asked, her voice panicked. She put her hand on his back and tried to look into his face.

  Blood dripped from Kell’s nose.

  Laenadara set aside her cup and stood up, crossing to Kell. She kneeled in front of him. “He’s bound,” she said, voice soft with wonder. “I thought you were Nilin, but …” The priestess touched Kell’s hand, shifting aside his fingers to see the tattoo beneath. “You were there. You saw something.”

  “What’s happening?” Lyric asked, torn between staring at Laenadara and Kell’s anguished face.

  Kell’s eyes had lost focus; his hands curled into claws against his neck.

  “His mind is trying very hard to keep his memories locked away,” Laenadara said. “The spell around his throat prevents him from remembering what he saw; who he saw.”

  “Rakarn,” Runa breathed. What had Kell seen? What would make the King tattoo an eight-year-old boy?

  “Can you help him?” Lyric asked.

  “We can’t remove the spell,” the High Priestess said, “but we can calm his mind.” She stood, gesturing to the guards by the door.

  One slipped outside. Several minutes passed and the man returned with two robed men.

  “This is Haetha and Bren,” Laenadara said, gesturing the robed men over. “They’ll take your friend to rest nearby.”

  “Kell,” Lyric said, standing as Haetha and Bren helped Kell to his feet. “His name is Kell. I should go with you,” she said.

  Runa, eyeing her sister and the unfamiliar healers, stood up. She wouldn’t let Lyric leave her sight. Not here where they didn’t yet know the Ayanarans’ intentions.

  “I’ll go,” Sashala said, pushing down on Eleden’s shoulder, who’d started to rise. “You need to stay. Kaia will be here soon. You must make your plans.”

  Lyric looked to Runa, eyes large with worry.

  Reaching for her sister, Runa felt a flicker of terror pass between them, a thread of Lyric’s emotions reaching out as she grabbed Runa’s hand.

  “Please get me if he grows any worse,” Lyric said.

  Sashala nodded.

  “We’ll care for him,” one of the healers said. Then, supporting Kell between them, they walked him from the room, Sashala trailing behind.

  Runa tugged Lyric back down to the cushions. “Have you received word from our mother?” Runa asked, looking at Laenadara. “A message that she’s on her way?”

  Laenadara, sitting back, shook her head. “We’ve received no communication from her.”

  “Hurlen will send word,” Eleden said.

  Laerdi nodded. “I’d guess by tomorrow. They’re likely on their way here.”

  Runa squeezed her sister’s hand, feeling worry rise inside her throat for their mother, and Kell. Would Kell be taken from them too? Curiously, she found that the idea of losing him saddened her. He’d helped save their mother, carrying her for hours without complaint up the Shore to Ivernn.

  She dragged her mind back to Laenadara’s words before Kell’s nose started bleeding.

  “You said King Rakarn is responsible for destroying Thenda,” Runa said, “and for creating the Taint. Why would he do that?” And why there? she thought. Why not in Raendashar? Had their grandfather known how destructive and lethal his attempt could be? Why had Thenda allowed him to perform such a dangerous ritual there? Had they known the risks? Had anyone?

  “The war,” Eleden said, his voice rough and brittle. His fierce eyes glittered dangerously.

  Laerdi, a hulking shape beside him, crushed his cup in one hand, shards of pottery falling between his feet. He blinked at his hands, seeming surprised as green liquid dripped on the floor.

  “Yes,” Laenadara said. “King Rakarn sought a weapon in his battle with the Sireni. He chose Thenda because the Mother’s roots run beneath the Cliffs of Salta.”

  “A weapon?” Runa asked. She thought about Elenora’s insistence that she could turn Runa into a weapon. Did the ancestor know what Rakarn had done?

  “He sought to wake the dragons,” Laenadara said.

  “The Old Ones?” Lyric asked, her head turning away from the door.

  The High Priestess gave Lyric a measured look. “Yes. Rakarn wanted to control them to destroy the Sireni and extend his rule over all of Erith.”

  “How do you know that?” Runa asked, narrowing her eyes. “Were you there in Thenda? Have you spoken to Rakarn?”

  “The Mother told us,” Laenadara said.

  Runa’s frown deepened. If Rakarn had unleashed dangerous magic atop the Tree’s roots, it seemed plausible it’d feel what happened, but how could it comprehend the King’s desires? How could the Mother Tree know the thoughts inside Rakarn’s head? Had he sought the Ayanarans’ help in the past? Did they have a connection to Raendashar?

  “But the dragons are gone,” Lyric said.

  “Yes,” Laenadara said, “but they’re not far away. They’re sleeping within the Veil, just as Serith sleeps beneath the Sea wrapped around the Mother’s roots.”

  “But how would Rakarn know how to summon them?” Lyric asked. “I can’t begin to imagine the power required —”

  “I don’t know where he learned the spell,” Laenadara said, “but there is old magic, lost to time,
that’s capable of bringing the Old Ones back to the living world. If Rakarn knew the words and had a god-child’s blood, it’s possible to call the dragons home.”

  Runa tightened her hand on Lyric’s. “A god-child? Like —”

  “Egan,” Eleden said, face bleaching of color.

  Runa’s heart thundered in her ears. Their mother had not mentioned their father when she’d accused Rakarn of destroying Thenda. Did she know? Did she care?

  Laenadara clasped her hands in her lap and gave Eleden a somber look. “It was Egan,” she said. “Rakarn used him in the ritual, but Egan fought against it. It was his resistance that resulted in the ritual’s failure.”

  Pride for the man she didn’t know welled in Runa’s chest. He was a fighter like her.

  “How could you know Egan was involved?” Eleden asked. “Did the Mother Tree tell you or did Egan come to you?” Hope kindled in his eyes. “You’ve seen him? He was here?”

  “Yes,” Laenadara said. “He’s here now.”

  Runa dropped her empty cup and felt it hit her skirt. Their father was here?

  “What?” Eleden exploded to his feet, fury contorting his face.

  Looking up, Runa saw Laerdi drop the remaining shards of his cup on the ground and shift his eyes towards the guards by the door.

  “He’s here with you, and you never told me?” Eleden raged.

  Laenadara held up a calming hand, remaining seated on the ground. “He’s been here with us for the last few months. He sought our help. He’s not well.”

  Runa stared at the High Priestess, fury burning in her chest. Why would Laenadara wait to tell them about their father? What game was she playing?

  “What do you mean?” Lyric asked. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “When Rakarn’s failed spell poisoned the land on which it was cast, it also corrupted your father,” Laenadara said. “Because of his god-blood, Egan didn’t die or turn into one of the mindless creatures that roam the Shore at night, but it changed him. He hungers for power, for magic, and he’s tried valiantly not to harm anyone, but his efforts have starved him and broken his mind. I’m afraid Egan is more creature than man now. We’ve done our best to protect him from others and himself, but we cannot reverse the damage.”

  Runa was returned to the Shore, her mind replaying the moment the creature ripped open their mother’s neck. She could still see the shock in Elaina’s eyes, and hear the sound her torch made when she’d knocked the monster free.

  “I’ll kill him!” Eleden growled, clenching his fists.

  “Our father?” Lyric asked, eyes wide.

  “Rakarn,” Runa said, looking at Eleden’s angry face. “Did Rakarn kidnap him? And why pick our father?” She didn’t understand. She’d thought Rakarn hadn’t known who their father was or that he was Sireni.

  “I don’t know,” Laenadara said.

  It didn’t make sense. Their mother claimed she’d hid Runa and Lyric to protect them from their grandfather. She’d refused to tell them their father’s name. Why? To protect him? If she’d been so careful, why was Rakarn so entangled in their lives? Why did he seem to know everything?

  And Kell ...

  “Why not kill Kell?” Runa asked. “If he witnessed Rakarn’s ritual and Rakarn was afraid he’d tell someone, why bother with a spell?”

  “Ru!” Lyric gasped, wrenching her hand away.

  Runa gave her sister an annoyed look. “I don’t think he should have, but it seems excessive to use a complicated spell to silence someone. And a child, no less. Why go through all that effort? Our grandfather hardly seems merciful.”

  “Maybe he was unable to kill him,” Laenadara said.

  Runa narrowed her eyes. “Unable?”

  The High Priestess shrugged.

  Lyric straightened beside her and Runa eyed her sister’s profile. She seemed uncomfortable. Did she know something about Kell? Something Runa didn’t?

  Runa looked back at Laenadara. “So in Rakarn’s quest for power, he’s doomed us all.”

  “Does he know?” Lyric asked. “Our grandfather? Does he know what he’s done?”

  “He knows,” Laenadara said, “which is why none of the kingdoms are aware of his involvement. No one who witnessed the ritual is still alive, besides your father and friend. I can’t say, however, if Rakarn is aware the Taint has spread or its danger.”

  Runa frowned. Eleden said there’d been people who’d tried to figure out what happened. How had no one found the connection to Rakarn?

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows,” Eleden said darkly.

  “Has anyone else tried to summon the Old Ones before?” Lyric asked.

  Runa looked at her sister, raising both eyebrows. “What are you suggesting, Ly?”

  Lyric looked at her. “No one living knows how to cleanse the Taint, right? If someone did, then they would have done it already.”

  “Sure,” Runa said, narrowing her eyes.

  “But what if the dragons can?” Lyric asked. “They know magic beyond our understanding. They themselves are magic and created the runes we use for spells. If anyone can stop the Taint from spreading across Erith, it would be them, wouldn’t it?”

  “All right, but they’re gone, Ly,” Runa said. Realization slid coldly down her back. “Are you suggesting we try Rakarn’s ritual? Think of the risk. Even if we knew a god-child willing to attempt the summoning, remember what supposedly happened to our father.” She studied Lyric’s face, curious despite her concern. It was odd being the voice of caution. Runa was usually the one taking significant risks and leaping into the unknown.

  “You can’t be serious, Lyric,” Eleden said, shaking his head.

  “It is possible,” Laenadara said, drawing everyone’s eyes. “You may be able to summon the dragons.”

  25

  Lyric

  Lyric blinked, her heart skipping. She hadn’t expected her wild suggestion to be met with acceptance.

  “Possible?” Runa asked sharply. “You’re not proposing we put our father through the ritual again.”

  “No,” Laenadara said. “There’s no need. You and your sister are Egan’s children. His blood, Serith’s blood, is in your veins, and if that wasn’t enough, you’re also descended from the Three. You are closer to their power, to all their power than anyone else alive.”

  “Would it kill us?” Lyric asked. “Corrupt us like our father?”

  The High Priestess shook her head. “No, as you will be willing participants, it is unlikely another destructive result will occur.”

  “Unlikely but possible,” Runa said.

  “We cannot know the exact effect of a ritual thousands of years old,” Laenadara said, “but I’m confident there’s no danger in the summoning itself.”

  “This is madness,” Eleden said, voice ragged with disbelief. He leaned forward, fixing Runa and Lyric with his eyes. “The last time the ritual was attempted Thenda was destroyed, and the Sea poisoned. Your father, my brother, was poisoned!”

  Lyric shifted beneath her uncle’s gaze. Was she being foolish?

  “It’s not without risk,” Laenadara said.

  “How do you know the ritual, anyway?” Runa asked.

  Lyric frowned. How did the High Priestess know the ritual? If it was forgotten magic, how had both Laenadara and Lyric’s grandfather learned the spell and its requirements?

  “Mother shared it with us,” Laenadara said.

  “So, you already believe the ritual is necessary?” Lyric asked. “Has the Mother Tree told you it will work?”

  “If the Three are awakened, their fire can burn away the Taint as it was created by corrupted magic.”

  “Would you have asked us to do the ritual if Lyric hadn’t suggested it first?” Runa asked.

  Laenadara inclined her head. “I would have asked, as we are running out of time. I know Eleden brought you to us because he thought it’d be safer here, away from both Raendashar and the Sireni. We do wish to be your allies. We cherish life, and thei
r war only brings pain and death. We’d help you for that reason alone, to save the lives of our brothers and sisters, but there’s a greater threat now, a threat to all of us. Not just to you and me, but to all people; all life on Erith. The Mother Herself is at risk if the Taint spreads unabated.”

  Fear loosed in Lyric’s mind as she thought about everyone dying. She imagined the plants wilting and the trees back home twisting and melting as unnatural green lines ravished their trunks. She thought about birds dropping from the sky, and animals decaying on the ground, their melted corpses spreading the Tainted magic.

  “What does the spell do if it works?” she asked. “What happens if we call the Old Ones and they answer?” Lyric laughed, a breathless, terrified sound. It seemed so ridiculous to be discussing this like it was something that could actually happen. Dragons lived in stories.

  “We’ll ask for their assistance,” Laenadara said. “We’ll call on their wisdom and love for Erith to save Her. The Old Ones are tied to this world. If they didn’t care what happened to Her, then they would have followed the Trinity and the Seven to the Beyond. The Three would not have stayed in the Veil.”

  Lyric thought back to the song Kell sang all those days ago on the beach near Thenda. Eyes turned away; the Lords wait in shadow, dreaming until called forth again. Though distant and sleeping, They’ll return to preserve us.

  “I wonder what Rakarn would have told them if his ritual worked and he’d summoned the dragons,” Runa said. “Oh, excuse me Great Ones, would you mind destroying my enemies, please?” She snorted, an incredulous look on her sharp face.

  “He must have thought he could control them,” Eleden said. He exchanged a glance with Laerdi, both men looking ill at ease.

  Lyric thought about Laenadara’s face when she’d recalled the visions she claimed the Mother Tree had shared. She’d looked scared as if she’d stared into Valen’s face, seen her death and the death of everyone she loved.

  She thought about a man who’d died in her village from a poison inside his body. By the time they knew what was wrong, saw its effects on his skin, the blood in his eyes, it was too late.