Odriel's Heirs

by Hayley Reese Chow

  The creatures fell on them from all directions. Three sets of fingers clawed at Kaia’s arms and legs. She hacked at them without slowing her momentum, only to feel another two fall on her from above. She looked over to see Klaus besieged by his own throng of assailants. Kaia locked eyes with Dorinar, not fifteen paces away.

  “There are too many!” she called, felling two more cobalans with a slash of her blade and throwing another off her shoulder with the other hand. “We’re not going to make it.”

  Dorinar rolled his eyes dramatically and pressed his hands together. His brow furrowed in concentration, and a barrier of light formed in front of him. The magus extended his hands with a grunt, and the barrier moved forward. He lunged a leg forward, and the barrier came within five paces of the Heirs. “Get behind the barricade!”

  With a spin and a wide sweep of her blade, Kaia managed to fling the eyeless beasts from her body and take three paces before another group tried to pull her back. She chopped at them with her blade and took a step before another one locked its arms around her neck. With one more stumbling lunge she passed through Dorinar’ defense. Screeching, the cobalan on her back slammed into the light barrier as if it were made of brick. More white-skinned cobalans piled up against the yanaa shield, breaking against it like a rough sea on the rocks.

  Kaia turned, breathing hard, to see Klaus already in front of her.

  Dorinar lifted his chin, his teeth gritted together. “In the tunnel! Quickly!”

  The Heirs disappeared into the stone corridor, and Dorinar followed close behind, his barrier moving with him as the cobalans hammered against it. Dorinar stepped through the passage and clenched his outspread hands into fists, collapsing the tunnel behind them.

  ✽✽✽

  Above ground, the magus and the Heirs stood, scratched and bleeding, at the entrance to the cave. Gus nosed Kaia from her boots to her neck, reveling in the new smells that covered her, and Shad’s bright eyes regarded them curiously from his perch on Stormshade’s saddle.

  Klaus spoke first, “I thought you said a cobalan.”

  Dorinar sniffed. “Well, that was a century ago. I didn’t conduct a census.”

  Kaia put a hand to her chest as if to steady her still thrumming heart. “Why’d you come after us?”

  He turned his ancient eyes to her, “I wanted to know why a Dragon Heir would need a lantern.”

  Kaia turned her face away.

  Shad’s ears flicked as he answered for her. “After the last battle, she seems to have lost the ability to summon fire.”

  “Interesting.” The magus held his chin thoughtfully. “I have never heard of such a thing. I’ll have to make an annotation in the annals….” Mumbling to himself in thought, Dorinar shuffled away in the direction of his cottage.

  Klaus threw up his arms. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit concerned?”

  “Still not my affair,” the magus returned distractedly, still walking. “Besides, I helped you get the Tooth.” Dorinar gestured vaguely at the massive sword hanging from Klaus’ back. “You can stop pestering me now and be on your way.”

  Kaia’s voice pitched as she called after him. “What will we do without the dragon fire?”

  Dorinar paused and glanced at her over his shoulder. Kaia could see a gamut of emotions spinning in his midnight eyes. “Find a way.” He shrugged. “Heirs always do.” With that, the magus strode away into the marsh.

  ✽✽✽

  That night, the Heirs made camp in the forested foothills of the Naerami range, just west of the Tazgar swamp. Klaus couldn’t take his hands off his new weapon. He drilled and exercised endlessly in the glow of their campfire, and when he finally tired of slashes and parries, he admired the shadow sword as he reclined against his pack.

  “It’s impossibly light,” he exclaimed, fingering the whorls along the deadly sharp s. “And the workmanship is flawless.” He ran a hand along the flat of the blade, “To think, this is the very blade Kallar used to defeat a demon god.…”

  Kaia managed a half smile at the Shadow Heir’s wonderment, but her heart felt cold. At last, Klaus put the blade aside and sat back with a contented sigh. Gus stretched out between the Heirs with his own canine huff, his feathered tail sweeping the ground lazily. As Kaia stared into their dying fire, Klaus reached out to brush her bruised elbow.

  “It’s ok, Firefly. I’m sure you’ll be back to normal by the time we reach the Deadlands in a week.” He withdrew his hand, and his eyelids drooped. “Get some rest. We’ve still got miles to go.” He closed his eyes and slept soundly within seconds.

  Kaia waited a few moments to be sure Klaus was asleep before pulling the folded parchment from her pocket. Shadmundar stalked silently out of the darkness to sit at her side.

  Kaia traced the inked image of the hawk above the Dragon Heir’s serene countenance. “Shad, we would have died in that cave if Dorinar hadn’t been there to save us.” Kaia looked back to the fire. “If I don’t reclaim the dragon fire, we'll all die.” She shook her head. “I have to find answers.”

  He flicked his tail. “But where will you find them?”

  Kaia showed him the page. “Do you know the story of Shava?”

  “Ah,” Shad inclined his head. “Little more than we heard at Fiola’s hearth I’m afraid.” His eyes poured over the page. “A desperate girl who entreated Odriel for help—alone, barefoot, and heart bared.”

  “She found Odriel in these peaks.” Kaia nodded to the mountains rising in the dark in front of them. “I’m going to find him.”

  “Do you believe you can?”

  “I have to.” Kaia folded the parchment carefully and slid it back into her pocket. “I’ll follow in Shava’s footsteps.” She pulled off her boots and stockings. “Alone, barefoot, and heart bared.” She got to her feet, feeling the chill, damp grass between her toes. “You and Klaus need to ride south in case I don’t make it in time.”

  Shad nodded. “You must move quickly. Your army awaits you in the Deadlands.”

  An unexpected surge of hope coursed through Kaia. “I will not fail them.” In silence, she gathered her things, roused Gus with a nudge, and collected Sunflash. The night sky had cleared, and a bright half-moon smiled down on them to light their way.

  Kaia turned as she walked her doe towards the towering mountains. “My thanks, Shadmundar.”

  He bowed his head, “Good luck, Guardian Dashul.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Search for Odriel

  Feeling a bit unsettled, Kaia reached the steep slopes of the snow-speckled Naerami Mountains the next morning. Based on a desperate feeling deep in her gut, she had left Klaus in the middle of the night to ride into the mountains alone without her boots. Now, she questioned the wisdom of that choice.

  I’m just going to walk up into these mountains and scare up Odriel himself? By the light of the day, the notion sounded preposterous. But she had come too far to turn back now. She looked up at the peak rising above her. Short wisps of grass grew here and there, but boulders of orange, salmon, and grey hues dominated the steep incline—much too steep for even a nimble Dalteek to bear her weight.

  Sighing, she dismounted and gingerly set her bare feet on the cold, jagged slope.

  Gus nudged her leg with his wet nose and looked up at her with his wet brown eyes. Wherever you lead, I will follow, my girl.

  Kaia ran her fingers through his coat. “We’re going up, Gus.”

  Sunflash whickered her encouragement, and with tentative feet, Kaia climbed.

  She gritted her teeth as the sharp rocks cut into her soles, bending down on all fours to let her hands share her weight. As she scaled the bleak landscape, she inspected every scurrying stone squirrel and shadow for a sign of the legendary being. She looked up to the grey sky. Odriel, please hear my call. I might be the first Dragon Heir to lose the fire, but don’t punish the people of Okarria for my failings. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to propel her prayers out into the surrounding mountains throu
gh sheer force of will. Odriel, we need your help.

  As she ascended, the air turned chilly in the high altitude, and patches of snow hid in the shade. Kaia hugged her cloak tightly around her and pressed on, hunger and thirst beginning to claw at her. Gus and Sunflash trailed along gamely, the thick-coated beasts unaffected by the harsh mountain clime.

  Hand over hand, she climbed, with the events of her journey spinning through her head in a never-ending loop of faces—Layf hugging her goodbye, her father’s swollen face, Mogen’s grotesque grin, the rotting dead, Conrad pleading for mercy, Mackie’s still face among fallen heroes, and the eyeless Xar. As the images swirled and eddied, another memory washed up from the last triennial: “Next time, I’ll be strong enough,” she had told Klaus.

  Kaia flinched, scuffing her toes on a rock. How wrong she had been. At every turn, with every face and memory, she had let her loved ones down. She had proved herself to be nothing but a naïve, tender-footed young girl. Now, her whole world hung on this one last desperate hope, and it was no brighter than a match burning down to her fingers.

  ✽✽✽

  At last, Kaia reached the peak, just as the crimson half-sun sank into the soft gauzy clouds blanketing the land below her, taking its meager offering of warmth with it. She set her back against a boulder and Sunflash settled carefully beside her with a soft nicker, eager to offer her body heat. Kaia ran her scratched fingers through Sunflash’s velvety fur and hugged Gus close to her.

  Feet sore, belly empty, and mouth dry, she thought of Klaus with a pang, wondering how he had taken her sudden disappearance. He probably thought she had stormed off in a childish fit, but he would never have understood if she had tried to explain. She frowned. It had felt so right in that moment, but now, alone among the silent mountain peaks, doubt needled her.

  As darkness deepened, she wondered wearily how much longer she could afford to spend on the mountain before looking for help elsewhere. She dreaded returning to the army empty-handed and explaining, shamefaced, that she could no longer conjure fire—that, for all practical purposes, she was no longer the Dragon Heir, but merely a gloomy harbinger of certain death and despair. Without her gift, the people of Okarria, from the greatest warrior to the smallest babe, would be slaughtered—or worse.

  She straightened. No.

  Remembering the calm image of Shava, she folded her dirty, scraped feet under her and sat tall. She rested her hands on her knees and took a deep breath in, closing her eyes to look within for her essence at her core. She may not be able to draw out the heat, but the yanaa still writhed beneath her skin. She called to it, bending it to her will, and then, with a conscious effort, projected it out around her—an invisible beacon. With it, she sent out her most fervent prayer: Odriel, guide me.

  ✽✽✽

  The gray morning found Kaia exhausted, stiff, and half-mad with thirst. As the first fingers of light stretched from the horizon, the Dragon Heir let herself sag against her golden Dalteek. No hawk circled the sky, no words of wisdom had reached her ears. She was no legendary Dragon Heir of old. She was just a girl, cold and alone, and she had failed.

  Kaia imagined the accusing eyes and acid tongues of Bram, Everard, and the people of Okarria—all thinking the same thing: if only she had been born six minutes later.

  Bleak thoughts tearing through her mind, she stared blankly at the clear sky and saw what looked like a ruby thread weaving through it, like a strand of the sun that had been cut and now drifted to the earth. She blinked, trying to clear the hallucination from her vision. But as the sun ray dove towards her, she could make out its serpentine body, rivaling the girth of a Carceroc tree, ending in a massive head framed in a curly orange mane. Flight seemed impossible from its wingless body, but there it was, curling and drifting in the clear air as if swimming sedately through a mountain stream—a dragon.

  The drake spat a small gush of fire harmlessly into the air, as if mocking her. Drawing closer at incredible speed, Kaia could see its yellow eyes and the ridge of spikes along its sinuous spine. Sweat prickled on her brow as the creature aimed straight for her.

  She grabbed Gus and shifted her body in a futile effort to shield him from the glistening white teeth, but just as she thought it would swallow them in its cavernous jaws, it banked sharply to one side. As the giant body looped around the peak, the whoosh of air from its flight hit her like a gale, whipping her brown locks wildly behind her. Kaia felt as if time stopped as she watched ruby red scales flash past her eyes, inches from her nose. Entranced, she reached out to touch the dragon, her fingers just skimming the smooth, supple armor as it rippled by.

  The tip of its feathered tail flicked by her as the great creature weaved joyously back up into the air. Kaia watched it, breathless as the dragon spiraled upward and shrank once again to a mysterious red line in the sky. When the thread had faded into a dot, Kaia realized her jaw hung open and snapped it shut with a click.

  As a child, her mother had told her stories of the mischievous caelidrakes. Mysterious as the magi, they slumbered for hundreds of years at a time, waking for only a few hours every century to taste the air and dance across the sky. Her mother had said catching a glimpse of one was rumored to grace you with good health and fortune.

  Kaia looked at Gus with wide eyes. “Did I dream that?”

  Unperturbed by the passing of the inconceivable dragon, Gus sniffed curiously at a small turtle hiding among the rocks. This does not smell like a turtle.

  Kaia sighed and lay back into Sunflash in a daze, replaying the image again and again in her mind as she tried to commit every detail to memory. She looked up at the ominous half circle of the sun and wondered how the world could at once be filled with so much wonder and so much terror at the same time.

  It is a thought I often dwell upon myself.

  Kaia sat up with a start. The thought had not been her own.

  She glanced around wildly for her mind’s intruder. “H-hello?”

  Down here, my Heir. Kaia turned her eyes to the rocks. The only other living creature besides Sunflash and Gus was the small turtle.

  She blinked, wondering if the altitude and deprivation had sent her over the edge of her sanity. “Um… you’re the turtle?”

  Would you prefer me to take another form?

  “N-no that’s fine.” She looked down on the brown, craggy shell of the turtle. His tiny head only protruded slightly, but he looked up at her with dark, intelligent eyes. Kaia sat in shock for a moment, trying to convince herself that this turtle might indeed be the magnificent Odriel of the old legend.

  You have called me. The deep voice resonating through her mind startled her out of her silence.

  “Y-yes, Odriel, we need your help. Nifras is attacking, and the Time Heir is missing, and I’ve lost the dragon fire.…” The words tumbled over each other in their haste to rush out. The turtle blinked languidly at her outburst.

  I’ve gone mad. Kaia thought. And now I’m ranting to a turtle.

  Allow me to reassure you. The thought had scarcely alighted on her mind before the turtle transformed in front of her eyes. He glowed blue as he grew in all directions.

  Gus stepped away from the former turtle and fell back into a bow with a yip. Not-turtle is big now!

  The glowing mass unfolded itself into a hulking brown bear. Kaia drew her knees to her chest, leaning back apprehensively from the towering beast.

  To answer your question, you have not lost your gift.

  Kaia’s teeth chattered as she tried to calm the stormy ocean of feelings that threatened to capsize her. “Then why can’t I call it forth anymore?” she said hesitantly, not wanting to sound impertinent.

  Your fear stops you.

  “But I'm not afraid!” she contradicted him before she could stop herself. The bear lay down on a great slab of speckled rock and calmly regarded her with his great brown eyes. She opened her mouth to say something else when her mind filled with vivid images like a sudden dream.

  She saw the sun
go dark and the forbidding shadow of the necromancer loom over an endless Lost army. She watched as the bony claws of the dead ripped apart Fiola, Everard, Shad, and Tekoa, one by one. She stood helplessly, unable to call out or run to them—unable to protect them. Finally, she watched Klaus step in front of her protectively before the dark demon god grabbed him at the throat. She beat desperately at Nifras’ black boned legs as she watched the life drain out of the struggling Shadow Heir. Finally, his limbs went still, and his open eyes stared blindly at nothing. With a deafening laugh, Nifras threw the Heir’s limp body to the hungry army of the Lost. The dead tore at his flesh with rotting teeth and yellowed nails while Kaia could do nothing but look on in horror.

  As Kaia’s eyes refocused on the great bear and the reality before her, screams echoed across the mountain range. It took her a moment before she recognized the screams as her own. She clapped a hand on her mouth and looked up into the soft eyes of the bear.

  Kaia. The deep voice vibrated through here, clearing the nightmare. You must let go of your fear.

  “How?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

  You must find the strength within you.

  “But I can’t save them!” she insisted.

  Yes, you can. Odriel pressed the image of Kaia releasing the Dragon’s Rage on Gyatan plain into her mind.

  She hid her forehead with her palms. “That only happens when I lose control.”

  You are wrong, and that is why you cannot find your gift. You are looking for rage, but the greater power comes from love. He pressed the images of the limp bodies of her father and Klaus into her mind. Try.

  Kaia attempted to focus, but thoughts of Nifras and massacre crowded her mind—fear and anger. The bear stood up onto his back paws, looming four feet above her head. Ever so gently, he reached out a massive paw and placed it on her shoulder. Tekoa’s words echoed through her mind, “If ever you need a light Kaia, just remember the one that burns within you never goes out.”