The Unforeseen One

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The Unforeseen One Page 29

by Lexy Wolfe

“Not quite. I think you missed five over there,” Nolyn offered. He grunted when Star elbowed him in the ribs while the boy jumped up to find the alleged missing rocks and called, “You’re wrong! There are only three we missed here, Uncle Nolyn!” He brought them back, displaying them in his palms triumphantly.

  Ash blocked Storm with an arm when she took a step toward the other mage, her fists balled with full intention to pummel him. “Do not mock me!”

  “He isn’t. He is teasing you,” Ash explained with fixed patience. “This is why you must relax. You are being irrational.” He added when she turned her ire on him, “Irrational for you. You are nearly always irrational to me.”

  “I am not irrational! If anything happens to him, it will be my fault. He is my responsibility. His life was fine before I cemented his bayuli-volsha. I was his Alanis alone before you joined me. There might have been more I could have done.” Her words slowed, growing lethargic as Mureln quietly played his mandolin. Ash put his arms around her as she fell asleep against him.

  “Thank you,” he said softly as he carefully got his lifemate into his arms and carried her over to their sleeping place. With Lyra’s aid, they arranged her into as comfortable position as they could manage.

  “It won’t last long,” Mureln stated, keeping his eyes on the strings as he continued. “She will probably wake up within an hour. You and she are both impossible for my efforts to keep asleep for long.”

  “Anything will help.” Ash’s expression fractured a little, his worry showing as he caressed her hair. “She is becoming more erratic. It isn’t like her. Not like this. If I knew she would react to pregnancy so poorly…”

  “It is not the pregnancy. It is the strain of her imperfect bond to Thandar,” Star said in a low voice. Terrence looked up from reading one of Avarian’s journals, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Citali says if she did not have the tribal bond, she would have gone insane already. It helps stabilize her, but it is only delaying the inevitable.”

  “She is going to get worse?” The delicate woman lowered her eyes, nodding without a word. He exhaled, looking away as he hid his fists inside his sleeves as he stood, back stiff. “We need to find Thandar. Everything will be for naught if we lose Aelia.”

  All at once, everyone sharing the na’Zhekali bayuli-volsha reacted to a change in the bond, the emotions that had reverberated with Jaison’s fear, anger, and frustration abruptly changed quality. Even Storm, in her somnolent state, relaxed perceptibly. They exchanged looks of confusion. “What happened?” Bella demanded. “Is something wrong with Jaison?”

  “No,” Skyfire replied with a relieved smile. “Something is right with him. He has earned his place as an adult within the tribe.”

  The Vodani woman’s eyes brightened. “He has?” She went over to get her crossbow. “We have to go find him!”

  “No. He must still return on his own,” Skyfire stated. “It is as much a part of the trial as gaining the knife.”

  Bella waved her good arm toward the wastes. “But he only took rations for three days. It’s been five! If you know he’s succeeded, why not try finding him to bring him back?”

  “It is for the tribe’s safety. For someone to leave to seek food or water, to scout ahead of the tribe while on the move. It all risks lives.” Skyfire waved a hand. “We do not know where he went. Others could be lost in addition to him. Or he returns alone and the tribe’s numbers dwindle needlessly because those seeking him do not return.”

  Seeker rose, sliding his weapons away. “I will find him.” He grinned toothily. “I have always been good at finding things. I will return with your mate, Dusvet Bella.”

  Bella’s cheeks flushed. “Mate?! He’s not my—! I mean, we are just—” She sighed and shook her head. “Oh, never mind.” The others chuckled as Seeker whistled. In moments, his drizzen skidded to a stop just in front of him. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me when I return,” he stated after securing the beast’s tack and mounting. “After I have found him and returned him to you.”

  She looked up with a small smile. “I am thanking you for going in the first place.”

  He shrugged one shoulder as the drizzen shifted with his tugging the reins. “I do it because it will please Githalin Storm to have her tlisan back, and that will keep her and her children safer. But you are welcome, nevertheless.” With that, he spurred his mount into the desert.

  She put her good hand on her hip, blowing at a tendril of hair from the corner of her mouth, grinning. “One thing a Desanti can’t be faulted for is not saying exactly what they mean.”

  IT WAS NOT until hours later, the sky painted in numerous colors as the sun set, when the drizar called out. Those inside the shelter emerged with cautiously hopeful expressions. Seeker turned to the rider behind him while they were still several measures away, nodded, and thumped the drizzen’s shoulder to lower herself to the ground.

  Jaison dismounted and stood to face his tribe. He favored one leg as he limped toward them. Ash and Tyrsan rushed to meet him, lending him their shoulders for support.

  “You look like hell,” Tyrsan pointed out in conversational tones, his relief to see the younger Dusvet again obvious in tone, touch, and tribal bond.

  Jaison laughed tiredly. “Oh, good. I look better than I feel. I was worried.”

  Ash chuckled, shaking his head. “We have a celebration meal waiting for you. Do you think you’re up for it?”

  “And deprive the tribe of a reason to celebrate? Psh.” He winked. “I would never do such a thing.” His smile faded. “Is Storm…?”

  The mage looked forward, lips thinning to a line. “The babies are fine, according to Taylin. She is…” His expression reflected his desperation in finding a suitable word. He exhaled. “She needs to find Thandar. Soon.”

  Jaison closed his eyes. “Forgive me for taking so long to figure things out.”

  “You figured it out.” Ash’s voice was firm as he glanced at the other man. “And you returned to us. That is what is important.”

  The tribe waited for him to be closer to the shelter before they surrounded him. They made a space for Bella as the Vodani woman stepped up to him. She looked into his eyes for several long moments before she put her arm around him, kissing him soundly. Tyrsan stepped aside for her to take his place. “Come on. Storm is waiting for you.”

  Several rocks had been brought in and covered with a hide to serve as a makeshift table. Small balls of magelight hovered on sticks that had been propped up to resemble candles. Shallow plates held meat and some other food things that had been gathered from the oasis. They led Jaison to the place by Storm before taking their seats, Bella beside Jaison, Ash across from him.

  “Alanis.” Jaison lowered his eyes. “Forgive me for taking so long to return.” He could not conceal all of his alarm seeing how worn she looked, the circles under her eyes and sickly color to her complexion.

  “Let me see your knife,” she requested with an air of formality. He placed it, sheath and all, in her outstretched hand. Silence fell on the group as they watched her examine it.

  Green-gold eyes studied the firebrand image for several moments, rubbing her thumb over it. A pang of homesickness flickered across the tribal bond. “Senigu. Fitting.” He put his hand out to take the blade back. She did not release it immediately, clasping his hand with both of hers. “Do not apologize. Earning your Naming Blade takes as long as it takes. You succeeded. Take pride in that.”

  Bella sat a cup of water by his plate as Storm released him. “Here. Drink. You must be dying of thirst.”

  He chuckled. “I was for a while. But I learned I can still be my mother’s son as much as my father’s.” Those around the table laughed, more out of relief for his return than understanding what he meant. Eventually, focus left Jaison and went to Mureln as he entertained the others with song and story.

  Jaison bit his lip and leaned close to Storm. “Please do not think me rude, but may I ask…what gender is Senigu?”


  “Was Senigu red and gray or blue and green?”

  Jaison blinked in confusion. Neither he nor Storm noticed the mages looking over out of curiosity. “It matters?”

  Storm nodded, sipping her water. “Red and gray means she was female. Blue and green means he was male. Father said firebrands are a more chaotic creature, changing gender when it suits them.”

  “Does it depend if there are more of one gender available?” Ash asked.

  Storm blinked at him, taking a moment to understand his question. She shook her head. “No. Firebrands pair for life. They sometimes both switch from season to season to take turns between siring and nesting. Sometimes, they are both male, or both female, caring for the chicks of pairs lost or broken.” She shrugged. “Senigu never told me if there was a reason for which genders they took or preferred. They just accept one another for who the other is, not what.”

  Jaison held the knife in his hands, rubbing his thumb across the avian image on the hilt. “Acceptance. I like that.” As he affixed the knife to his belt, he noticed Storm put a hand to her swollen belly from the corner of his eye. He reached out to her enough to gain her attention, but not alert the others. She glanced up at him. “Are you all right, Storm? Really all right?”

  She did not answer right away, expression pensive. “We will be leaving the day after tomorrow. Get all the rest you need to recover from your trial while the others gather as much as we dare take for our supplies.” She grimaced, managing to get to her feet without aid. Lyra jumped up to walk with her back to the sleeping area. The jovial mood dampened a fraction as the others watched Storm leave their company.

  A day and a half into the Blighted Lands, and the only sounds to be heard were the mournful wail of the winds on the craggy hills and the sounds of the drizzen’s feet on the ground. The silvery moonlight only added to the death-like pallor of lifelessness.

  “This place makes my skin crawl,” Bella muttered as she hunched in her saddle, tugging her travel robe closer around her shoulders.

  “There are some plants.” Nolyn frowned, shaking his head at the foreboding, twisted brush that might have been trees. “But I don’t know that I’d trust using them for kindling much less testing their edibility.”

  Terrence frowned, leaning forward to pat his drizzen’s neck. “The drizzen aren’t even eating the rocks.”

  Storm rode sidesaddle, the drizar picking his steps with care for his very pregnant rider. She kept her eyes forward as she spoke, her voice carrying without need to shout. “Before the Great War, each tribe was connected to a territory.” She glanced toward Tyrsan. “Not as your people ‘own’ land by marking boundaries and writing words to make the ‘deeds’ you told me of. We shared a kind of bayuli-volsha with the land and the living things within its border. Most tribes now are mere splinters of the old tribes, several sharing the old territories.”

  “The massacre poisoned the Blighted Lands when so many were killed so violently.” Ash’s statement was without inflection, but the simmering anger and grief for the tragedy reverberated over the tribal bond. “How can we purify it, Aelia? Even if it did not belong to our tribe, I could never leave anything in this state.”

  “I don’t know,” she confessed. “Father might know, but I do not dare attempt to pray to him right now.” She put her hand over her abdomen. “Not until the children are born.” They could almost hear her unspoken words.

  Ash most of all. He frowned, spurring his drizzen forward to stop in front of the drizar, forcing him to halt. “You will survive this, Storm. I will not lose you. Not now.” She looked away. He caught her chin, gently forcing her face back. “I will love and adore our children, no matter if they take after you, or me, or both of us. But they will never be you, Aelia. No one can take your place.”

  “I am afraid,” she whispered, clasping his hand and pressing it against her cheek.

  “I know. So am I.” Their eyes met. “Trust in our tlisan to make sure all will go well.” She nodded, closing her eyes.

  “Hunter told me the na’Zhekali was the last of the tribes from before the Great War.” Jaison’s words sounded mechanical as he stared at a land he remembered dimly from his childhood, his expression stricken. “The only one to still have a true, solitary tie to their territory.”

  “Is this why you got so sick?” Bella asked, no teasing in her voice. “Not just because of so many dying at once, but because the land became sick and poisoned?” He tried to answer, but no sound came from his lips. With a nod, he clenched his fists, hitting his thighs. His drizzen startled, making a sound of protest.

  “Where is the A’tyrna Ulan within this territory?” Mureln asked. He glanced at his wife and son, both hugging each other with eyes closed, trusting their mount to stay with the others. “The sooner we accomplish the task we are here for, the sooner we can leave.”

  “The na’Zhekali was a large tribe, and our territory was vast,” Storm stated, turning to glare at the bard. “Etienne stands watch at the highest point in the heart of this it. No matter how quickly you wish to abandon our land, we will need to spend several nights within it.” She looked forward. “Or you can take Taylin and Izkynder and ride on ahead to Nyla.”

  Taylin looked up at those words. “We are not abandoning you, Storm. Stop talking like that!”

  “Abandon me. Abandon the land. It is the same in the end.”

  “Storm,” Mureln chided, drawing back when she turned a fierce glare on him.

  “Do you think I do not know how terrible this land feels because I have no healer’s magic or bardic empathy? That I do not know the torments of those who have crossed the blade but have not returned to our ancestors because I do not have Citali’s blessed vision?”

  She waved her hands in a wide gesture. “Even with my bond to Thandar impaired, I have always been bound to this land of my birth. As I shared in my Father’s suffering, I have always shared in my family’s.”

  “How do you bear it?” Lyra asked in a small voice, hugging herself. “So many terrible things.”

  “Because if I do not, who will remember the na’Zhekali? How can I understand another’s suffering if I do not suffer as they do?”

  “Isn’t there another way?” the blond archer asked.

  “I don’t know of one,” Storm admitted. The drizar stopped abruptly when the woman grimaced, putting her hands on her swollen belly. He looked back at her, his sounds reflecting his worry.

  Taylin rode up to her before anyone else could get near the warrior, leaning over to put a hand on the woman’s abdomen, then on her brow. “We need to find shelter. Now.” She met the startled eyes of the rest of the tribe. “It’s time.”

  “Now? Here?” Ash asked, the color draining out of his face. “But it has only been five months! It is too early! Can’t you just stop the contractions again?”

  “I know it is too early!” The healer scowled. “This is more than false pain. If I try to stop it now, then we may lose them all.” With strained patience, she explained, “I warned you I expected her to go into early labor. Storm is too small to carry them to full term. We’ll just have to pray they are strong enough to survive on their own once they have emerged.”

  Star hugged Laurel. She then blinked as she stared at a place ahead of the group. “Yes, I see it, Citali!” She turned to Nolyn, handing him their daughter. “Take her. Quickly!” He had barely gotten a secure grip on the infant before his lifemate raced away. She pulled her mount to such an abrupt stop it shrilled, raking the air with her claws. She drew her strange-looking, dual-pointed knife and cut her palm, then held her hand before her.

  A yawning portal opened in front of her. “Go! The great father offers us shelter.”

  Storm startled when Ash moved from his mount to the drizar and settled behind her. “What are you doing?” she asked as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her knees over his leg, his other arm hold them securely.

  “I am helping the drizar by making sure you don’t fall when he ru
ns.” He met the beast’s eyes. “Go! I have her.” The animal chuffed before he sprang into a dead run, the rest of the herd, and with them the tribe, following.

  THE MOMENT THE portal closed, Totani swarmed Storm and Ash. However, the drizar was having none of it, raking claws, slashing horns, and gnashing teeth until they all backed off. Even Ash was startled when his normal bestial shrieks were understood as all languages were within the Rumblelands. “We guard her! You will not take her from us!”

  Kailee narrowed her eyes, changing from feline to humanoid form. “Mosir? Is that you?”

  The drizar bared his teeth. “The Su’alin said shelter was offered. Take us there.” The Totani traded uncertain looks, flinching when Mosir shrieked at them. “Now! Our sister is in distress!” Cowed, they turned and led the group into the valley where the Totani’s cavern dwellings were.

  Between contractions, Storm’s head rested on Ash’s shoulder. She laughed weakly. “Mosir. I wondered why drizar always refused to tell me his name or follow me here when I would visit after he matured. He is Totani’nasi. A Totani reborn.”

  “We made a promise to stay by each other’s side before I awakened,” the drizar rumbled. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I will not break that promise to you.” His gaze shifted to Ash. “Even if I must share you with him.” Both males looked at her in worry when she failed to silence a cry of pain, a contraction rippling across her swollen belly.

  Mosir walked into the wide cavern they were led to, lowering himself to allow Ash to dismount with Storm in his arms. The man carried her to a makeshift bed of hides other Totani only just finished assembling. He sat behind her, putting his arms around her as she leaned back against him.

  She looked upward, a sheen of sweat covering her. “You do not need to stay. I know your people…do not like…to see—”

  “No, I don’t have to stay,” he murmured into her hair, kissing her tenderly. “I want to.” They looked up when Skyfire and Seeker knelt on either side of them, each offering their arms. She started to smile as she put her hands on their wrists before another contraction hit and she grabbed them. Both grimaced, but did not make a sound of pain or complaint.

 

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