Odriel's Heirs

by Hayley Reese Chow

  “You control the fire well,” Tekoa said, breaking the silence.

  With another deep breath, Kaia allowed herself a small, victorious grin. She turned to look back at her companions, and her smile faltered.

  In the darkness behind Tekoa, the villagers had gathered with lanterns and torches. Kaia choked on her heart as it suddenly leapt into her throat. Families squeezed together in tight bunches, and wide eyes skewered her to the dark. Her fingers searched for Gus at her side, curling into his thick fur.

  Gus gruffed softly. It's ok, my girl. The air is good again.

  Tekoa’s hand on her shoulder brought her focus back to him. “It’s not you they fear,” he murmured. “It’s the dead that walk again before their eyes.”

  Kaia took a shuddering breath and nodded, but the worry still creased her brow.

  Shad’s words cut through the shocked silence of the night, from where he sat by her feet. “Tekoa, I think it’s time we spoke with Okoni.”

  Tekoa stroked his chin. “Yes, of course. We’ll meet him at the mews.”

  He gestured toward a small, red-headed girl, and with a nod, she ran back toward the village. With a hand still on Kaia’s shoulder, he guided her towards the crowd.

  Kaia stiffened as Maldibor and human parted before her, bracing for their hateful whispers. But none came. With a shock she realized they weren’t just getting out the way, they were bowing their heads.

  “Light the darkness, Dragon,” one called out.

  “We give thanks,” another said.

  A blush that was not shame or rage burned from Kaia’s toes to her cheeks, filling her with a warm pride she had never felt before. If these people wanted her—she would face Nifras alone for them. She would be the Dragon Heir they needed.

  ✽✽✽

  The sky grayed with the dawn as they approached the mews, which turned out to be little more than a dozen roosting pillars and a few benches around a table sheltered by a covering pavilion. A jackhawk twice the size of a normal harehawk peered down at Kaia from its roost in the hollowed pillar. Its four taloned legs gripped the rough wooden perch while its tall ears twitched curiously, its long tail swinging below.

  The messenger girl sat at the table, quill and parchment at the ready, while Klaus, arm bandaged but still looking a bit haggard, sat across from a broad, silver-haired man. Their heads leaned together earnestly, but they looked up when Kaia and the others arrived.

  Tekoa gestured to the older Maldibor. “Kaia, may I introduce my uncle, Okoni, chief of our clan.”

  Okoni rose to his feet, standing even taller than Tekoa. “Guardian Dashul, the news of your father’s passing has been on the wind.” His face darkened. “Your grief is ours.” He bent closer, his words so soft only she could hear. “Your mother wrote, desperate for news of you.”

  Kaia’s eyes swam, letting the words wash over her.

  “Would you like us to send her a message for you?”

  Kaia tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Does she already—”

  Okoni nodded, his eyes gentle. “She knows of your father.”

  Kaia breathed deeply. “Could you just tell her that I’m ok? That I love her?”

  “That’s all?”

  Kaia bobbed her head, battling for control of her emotions. The messenger scratched onto a sheet of paper and then handed it to her. Kaia glanced at the elegant looping script before handing it back. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

  Okoni stepped back, raising his voice again. “Now, for other matters.” He glanced at the jackhawk’s wide eyes peeking from their hollows. “Everard has used the Maldibor jackhawks to rally the warriors to Okarria in times past.” He paused. “But there are not many warriors left—the Dracour of the northern plains, the nomads of the southern deserts, the Odriel faithful left in the three State-cities.” He looked from Kaia to Shad at her feet. “But will they come?”

  Shad scoffed. “The Lost walk the land, Nifras rises, and Odriel’s Heirs call upon them.” His ears flattened. “I should certainly hope so.”

  With a nod from Okoni, the scribe girl dipped her quill in the ink and began to write.

  Kaia crossed her arms and leaned back against a pillar, a chestnut jackhawk peering down at her with large eyes. “The Dracour will come if I ask. I know they will.”

  Tekoa nodded, looking to Kaia with earnest eyes. “And we will be with you.”

  Klaus’ shadowed eyes looked from Tekoa to Kaia and back. “But where do we call them to?

  For a moment, the group was silent as they considered the question. The first morning birds began to chirrup to encourage the coming dawn, and Kaia stifled a yawn, her mind starting to cloud with exhaustion.

  Okoni cracked his knuckles against his jaw. “Our latest information says Ariston has already reached the northwest Faverly battlegrounds to swell his army with fallen warriors.” He snarled. “The foul bastard.”

  Shad leapt up onto the table. “That means he will almost certainly take Gyatan pass, if he aims to meet Nifras’ army in the Deadlands.” He looked east as if he could see through the miles. “Between Blackerd’s canyon and the Naerami range, it’s the only path for an army of that size.”

  Kaia nodded. “But when?”

  The bench scraped against the stone floor as Klaus stood. “As soon as possible. We can’t afford to be late.”

  A slight panic rippled through Kaia at the thought of she and Klaus leading an army alone. “What about Jago?” she whispered.

  “And we will want Everard’s wisdom,” Okoni added. “He is a famed commander of men.”

  Tekoa gave Kaia’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “An army of the dead does not move quickly. You will have time to wait for them.”

  His gentle smile reminded Kaia so much of Jago, she had to look away.

  Shad nodded. “We will meet Jago and Everard at his Summerbanks refuge before continuing to Gyatan.” His whiskers quivered. “If you should need us sooner, send a jackhawk.”

  Okoni slapped a palm on the grey elmcore table. “It is decided.”

  The girl handed him the tiny scroll she had written on before beginning a second copy. Okoni passed it to Klaus. “Ari has captured your message.”

  Klaus spread the page on the table and scanned the message. With a nod, he pulled a small knife from his belt and pricked his thumb. Grabbing the pen, he flicked a drop of ink on the page before smearing his bloody thumbprint over it. “Dark blood, the Shadow’s mark.” He passed it to Kaia.

  Once again, Kaia squinted for a moment at the scrawl of letters on the page, pretending to read the words that seemed to shift before her eyes. Despite her mother’s best efforts, reading had always been a struggle for her. Still, she had watched her father scrawl many a letter to the other Heirs.

  Taking a deep breath, she allowed the smallest of flames to heat her thumb and forefinger, then, very carefully, she pinched the bottom of the page. With a wisp of smoke, the parchment crumbled beneath her fingers, leaving a black-ringed hole the size of her thumb. She nodded and handed it back to Okoni. “Singed with dragon fire.”

  She looked at the empty space at the bottom of the page—the space for the healer’s mark. Kaia’s brows knitted, why couldn’t she remember what it looked like? She locked eyes with Klaus. Surely, Everard would find Jago in time for the battle. Without the Time Heir, they weren’t whole.

  Gus snorted beside her. I am here. You are here. We are whole.

  Okoni rolled the tiny scroll and whistled. A golden jackhawk hopped from its pillar to the Chief’s soldier with a soft chirp. The Maldibor tied the scroll to is foreleg, and then stroked its long ears as he moved out from the mews. “Dracour plains. Find Cressida.”

  With that, he flung his arm up, letting the jackhawk spring from his arm on its powerful hind legs before tucking them under its stomach and unfurling its long wings to climb up to the treetops. “Odriel guide your wings.” He turned to the Heirs. “Four more.”

  ✽✽✽

  An hour
later, the five fastest messengers in Okarria had set out to carry their message across the land, with a sixth sent to Summerbanks to herald their arrival. Drained from their flight from the Terraverms, and her encounter with the Lost, Kaia would have liked to stay. But, with their task complete, they couldn’t afford to waste any time. The Maldibor repacked their saddlebags with dried meat and supplies, and Tekoa led them to the western edge of the forest on a sleek black Dalteek.

  He pointed up through the grassy mountain pass. “Summerbanks is through the pass and three days south from here.” He smiled, his eyes gleaming. “The legends say that Odriel flies with dragons on these mountain peaks, so keep an eye out.”

  Klaus edged his Dalteek closer to Tekoa’s and reached out a hand to grasp his forearm. “Thank you, Tekoa. We hope to see you at Gyatan.”

  Tekoa gripped Klaus’ arm with his slender fingers. “We will be there.” He looked at Shad. “Give my regards to the magus.”

  Shadmundar nodded solemnly from his saddle bag.

  As Moonstreak walked on, Tekoa turned to Kaia next. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Guardian Dashul,” he said, his words soft on the late morning gusts.

  A bittersweet smile crossed Kaia’s face. “Guardian Dashul.” She shook her head, looking away to the snow-dusted peaks before them. “When you say that, it still makes me think you’re speaking to my father.”

  Uncertainty creased Tekoa’s forehead. “I worry for you, Kaia. I’m afraid you have a hard path to tread.” He reached out and took her hand in his. He turned it over, tracing the lines on her palm, almost like he could feel the flames coursing beneath. His green eyes lit with intensity as they met hers. “If ever you need a light, just remember the one that burns within you never goes out.”

  For the second time that day, a bubbling warmth filled her. His compassion flowed from her fingertips to the roots of her tangled hair, wrapping her heart in a tight embrace. Her eyes dampened with gratitude and emotion.

  Klaus’ voice cut the moment short. “C’mon Firefly, we haven’t got all day.”

  Ignoring the Shadow Heir, she squeezed Tekoa’s smooth hands. “Thank you, Tekoa.”

  He squeezed back once before releasing her. “Until next we meet.”

  Kaia reluctantly nudged Sunflash forward, Gus already trotting ahead. “I look forward to the day.”

  He smiled once more, a bright, contagious grin. “Until then, remember to spoil my doe.”

  Looking over her shoulder, she reflected his smile back at him. “Every chance I get.”

  Sunflash climbed the slope as nimbly as a mountain goat, catching up to her roan companion. Klaus studied her with a strangely unreadable expression but said nothing. Kaia turned one last time to wave at her Maldibor friend, but he had already disappeared back into the forest of monsters.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Fiola’s

  The ride to Summerbanks passed uneventfully, but on the evening of the first day, the skies opened up and dumped buckets of cold mountain rain on the travelers. Kaia and Klaus nagged at each other half-heartedly, but the fatigue of their journey sapped the sting from their barbs. The deluge continued until the skies finally relented on the afternoon of the third day. Gus shook the muddy water from his thick coat, and Kaia could feel the relief ease her tense muscles as the sun warmed her soaked bones. Almost like a dose of Jago’s healing yanaa.

  Jago. She thought of the white space at the bottom of their call to arms. With thoughts of her father and Nifras looming large, she had let Jago’s absence hide under her other problems. She glanced at Klaus riding beside her with Shad hidden somewhere in his usual satchel. The Shadow Heir had thrown his hood back, but water still dripped onto his straight nose.

  She pulled a handful of violet elcorns from a tall peakbush and threw one at him. “Hey, ink blot.”

  He didn’t flinch as it bounced off his shoulder. “What.”

  Her tone softened. “Do you think Everard will really be able to find Jago?”

  Klaus sighed. “No one knows the land better than that crusty magus. If anyone can find Jago, he can.”

  Kaia dug her thumbnail into the delicate leather reins. “And if he can’t?”

  He shifted in the saddle, still not looking at her. “Then we’ll make do.”

  Far from the reassurance she was looking for, Kaia pursed her lips. If Jago were here, he would’ve tussled her hair with a warm laugh, teasing her fear away. Instead, she had to “make do” with the cynical Shadow Heir. “I miss him,” she whispered, loud enough only for her own ears.

  Klaus wiped the water from his face with an open hand. “So, while we’re having this moment of civility, I never thanked you for saving my life.”

  Kaia raised her eyebrows, not quite trusting his sincerity. “Which time?”

  He waved a scarred hand at her. “The terraverms don’t actually count since you got us into that mess in the first place.”

  Kaia rolled her eyes.

  He rubbed his stubbled chin. “And I did rescue you from the depths of self-pity. So, I think we’re actually pretty even.”

  Kaia threw another elcorn at him, this one smoking a bit in the damp air. “You’re so full of yourself.”

  Shad popped his head from his bag. “The rain finally stops, and then I have to listen to you two bickering again.” Flicking the water droplets from his whiskers, the cat glanced around the mountain path cut into the side of the mountain. “Ah, at last, a familiar trail. The cottage should be visible at the top of the rise.”

  Klaus threw a wolfish grin to Kaia, and she flashed one back. With a whoop and a flick of the reins, the two Heirs rushed up the hill. They paused at the top, looking down at the orange, two-story farmhouse and matching barn nestled in an open lea of wildflowers just above the treeline. Farther below, near the base of the mountain, smoke rose from many colorful chimneys—shades of salmon, rose, and cyan—lounging in the bend of a rolling mountain stream—Summerbanks.

  Shad pointed with a paw. “That orange house—”

  “Last one there cleans my boots!” Klaus cut in, leaning low over Moonstreak as he bounded down the slope, nearly dislodging the yowling Shad.

  Sunflash didn’t wait to leap down after them. “You’re cheating again!” Kaia shouted while Gus sprinted behind, barking gleefully.

  A wide grin split Kaia’s face as they rode towards a hot meal, a warm bath, a roof over their heads, and maybe even a little hope.

  ✽✽✽

  Before they could knock on the sky-blue door of the house, an old woman flew out of it like a mother hen and shooed them inside with a musical accent Kaia couldn’t place. “Come in darlings, come in, come in! I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Wait here, Gus,” Kaia murmured to her bedraggled hound.

  She and Klaus kicked out of their muddy boots and stepped over the threshold in sopping feet. Kaia took in the polished buttercedar floors, the intoxicating smell of bacon and sugar, and the crackling of a cheery hearth. To their right lay a sitting room with cushioned furniture and a neat shelf of books. To their left sprawled an enormous kitchen with a huge hearth, worn counters, a long pinkfir table, and an ornate rocking chair in the corner. A short hall split the floor with a steep staircase leading up to the bedrooms above.

  Although it was not at all familiar, the house glowed with an inviting charm that felt safe and nostalgic all at once. Kaia couldn’t imagine the elusive Everard ever staying in one place for more than a fortnight, but if he did choose to rest his ancient bones, she imagined this would make a perfect sanctuary.

  Shad shook himself off. “Fiola—”

  “Not now cat, can’t you see the poor souls are exhausted.” She thrust dry clothes into both of their arms and clapped her hands.

  “We—” Klaus started.

  She held a knobby finger up. “Not a word until you’re clean, dressed, and eating at my table.” She pointed towards the stairs. “Go on, go on, before the bath gets cold.”

  Needing no more encourage
ment, Klaus and Kaia tromped up the stairs as directed.

  An hour later, feeling more alive than she had in weeks, Kaia pulled a chair up next to the clean-shaven Klaus at a table full of eggs, bacon, honeyed porridge, and mugs of hazel cocoa. Remembering Gus suddenly, she started to stand, when she spied him already clean and settled into a corner with a meaty bone.

  Fiola handed her a plate.

  “Thank—” Kaia started.

  The woman held up a hand with a smile. “Not yet. Eat first. Then talk.”

  The Heirs shared a glance before piling their plates high with as much food as they could stack. As Kaia attacked the food, she studied the woman sitting across from them with a satisfied smile. She had long black ropes of hair with intricate patterns of silver ink lacing her dark arms and kind face. The tattoos held Kaia’s eyes as she tried to decipher the words hidden among the swirls. Pryor Brigg had once told the young Heirs of soldiers from the old wars inking themselves with the names of the fallen, but she had never seen it for herself.

  As their plates emptied and the Heirs let out sighs of satisfaction, Fiola leaned back, crossing her arms with a broad smile. “Now,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

  ✽✽✽

  They took turns telling their tale, haltingly at times, but then rushing through others. Fiola listened intently, reaching out with a patterned hand to grasp Kaia’s firmly as Klaus spoke of her father’s death in a soft, steady voice. Kaia glanced up from the table to look at the old woman through swimming eyes. Fiola’s amber irises reflected her sorrow, but she squeezed with strong fingers, and smiled with full, wistful lips. The understanding in her expression soothed Kaia like a balm, and she squeezed her fingers right back.

  “And now, we await Jago and Everard to join our army,” Shad finished.

  Fiola took in a long deep breath and released it. “Evie was due back a week ago.”

  No one spoke. The fire cracked through the silence.