The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  “No!” Kiri reached Eddrick an instant before he vanished into the night. She grabbed the spirit by the head and rammed him again and again into the unyielding wall of light her comrades had created. When he finally dropped his weapon, she snatched it from the sky and rammed it into his chest. Blinding light shone from the wound, expanding to swallow the ghost completely.

  Kiri stifled her sobs, focusing instead on filling the gap in the field where Eddrick had been. Aibek still fought for his life in the city below, and she had to stay strong for him.

  25

  Retreat

  Ahren clung to Chyndri’s back and struggled to keep from yanking on her sensitive leafy frill. The sights and sounds of the battle faded into the forefront, blocking out everything else. Ahren struggled to make sense of the mass of bodies below. Now that blood and mud tarnished the enemies’ brilliant yellow uniforms, she couldn’t tell friend from foe.

  “Lower!” The wind carried her raspy voice away, and she cleared her throat to try again. “Get me closer!”

  Chyndri bobbed her head once and dove toward the grassy field. The flickering light of the burning camp illuminated the bloodlust on the warriors’ faces.

  An emrialk screamed, and Chyndri lurched away from the forest and the shadows within it. Ahren peered hard into the darkened tree line. Several massive shapes moved just inside, hidden by the trees and protected by how close together the Bokinna had placed the shadow trees. Chyndri flew faster, moving away from the forest and the dangers within.

  Ahren nocked an arrow and pulled the bowstring taut. She moved the bow with her head as she scanned the field, searching for villagers who needed her help.

  The fire flared higher, and Ahren froze. A figure she’d recognize anywhere stood silhouetted against the blaze, her back to the fire, facing half a dozen warriors.

  “There!” Ahren pointed to where Tamyr fought for her life, and Chyndri dove. The rapid loss of altitude brought back the lightheaded weakness, but Ahren fought the feeling and managed to stay conscious.

  The dragon brought her low enough to take aim, and she focused in on one of the warriors fighting Tamyr, but the tree on the back of his zontrec armor brought her up short. She was fighting villagers, not enemy soldiers.

  Ahren lowered her bow and waved Chyndri lower. She couldn’t shoot her comrades in the back, but she had to do something to help Tamyr.

  Chyndri couldn’t land in the narrow strip of land between Tamyr and the flames, so she swooped low enough for Ahren to jump down.

  Ahren stumbled a few steps from the drop, regained her feet, and threw herself between Tamyr and the men.

  “Let’s go, Tamyr!” Desperation nearly stole Ahren’s voice, but she ground the words out. “My dragon will be back in a minute or two.”

  “Miss Ahren?” One of the soldiers frowned at her and lowered his sword. “This isn’t one of your friends, Miss Ahren. This girl has been fighting for Helak’s men all night. She killed two of our men.”

  The man pointed, and Ahren followed his gaze to the crumpled bodies of two Nivakan men.

  “I can’t go back to Nivaka,” Tamyr shouted over the din of battle. “Even if that hadn’t happened,” she waved toward the fallen soldiers, “I still couldn’t go back.”

  “You have to. You’re one of us!” Ahren dropped her voice to a whisper. “I thought we had something special.”

  Tears welled in Tamyr’s eyes, but she shook her head. “You’re a good friend, the best I’ve ever had, but I only ever loved Ahni. I can’t go back. I need a fresh start. I was hoping I’d find it here, with them.” She pointed to the blazing camp behind her.

  “What did you tell them?”

  Tamyr shook her head again. “Nothing they don’t already know. You have dragons. I don’t have any more to give them.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  One of the soldiers stepped closer, and Ahren held up a hand to stop him.

  “How should I know? You’re sweet on the interloper now, aren’t you? You could spend more time with him.”

  Ahren stifled a bitter laugh. “You really don’t know what’s been going on, do you? Aibek’s been courting one of the mayors from another village. They’re inseparable.”

  “Well, that makes your life a bit harder, but it doesn’t change mine. I still can’t go back.” The compassion left Tamyr’s face, replaced by a mask of determination.

  “Well, then maybe you should leave. Go north. Make a new life. That’s what Aibek’s uncle did, isn’t it?”

  Tamyr dropped the six-inch knife she’d been wielding, spun on her heel, and stalked off. She stayed near the flames and skirted the fighting until she’d vanished from Ahren’s view.

  “Your dragon’s coming back, Miss Ahren,” the soldier who’d addressed her before said. “You want us to help you on?”

  Ahren forced a smile. “No, just clear a little space for her and we’ll be back in the air in no time.”

  The man spread his arms out and pressed the others back several paces. When they’d made enough room, Chyndri dropped to the ground. Ahren scrambled up onto the dragon and tightened her straps. When she was secure, she called to Chyndri. With a great gust of wind, they took to the sky once more. Ahren stared in the direction Tamyr had run, but she couldn’t pick any specific person out of the fray. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. She’d lost more than just a potential suitor. She’d lost one of her best friends. Her chest ached from grief, but the battle raged on. Ahren wiped a sleeve over her face, nocked an arrow, and turned her attention back to the fight.

  * * *

  Sobs ripped through Kiri’s chest, making it difficult to concentrate. Still, she had to take Eddrick’s place and make sure his death hadn’t been for nothing. Points of heat and light stabbed at the forcefield, though none were close enough to injure her. The link between the spirits maintaining the shield meant she could feel every attack, which made it even harder to maintain her focus. She hadn’t trained for this as intensively as Eddrick had. He was supposed to hold the shield while she kept an eye on Aibek.

  She yearned to know what was happening below but didn’t dare glance down. It was that instant of distraction that had meant the end of her precious husband.

  Another pain shot through her, this one much closer. Her vision blurred from the pain, but she blinked it away and glanced around for the source of the attack. Three enemy spirits had teamed up and focused their attack on Agommi. Horror washed over her as he endured one assault after another. She could do nothing to help him. If she moved to support him, her — Eddrick’s — section of the shield would collapse. She screamed for help, but no sound came out.

  Somehow, Agommi held strong against the repeated attacks, though each stab of pain shot straight to Kiri’s heart. Had this been what Eddrick felt in his last moments? The thought brought on a fresh round of sobs. She wished she could shed tears, but those were impossible without a physical body.

  An eternity passed before Glesni showed up with reinforcements. They drove the enemy spirits back, and Agommi sagged. The spirits on each side held him up until he’d recovered some of his strength. Kiri wanted to lean on those around her, too, but she had to stay strong. The battle wasn’t over yet.

  An eternity later, the enemy spirits froze in their attack, but they hung millimeters from the forcefield, arms outstretched and hands clenched into deadly claws, ready to resume their assault. She had no idea why they’d stopped, but she welcomed the respite. It didn’t last long enough to suit her.

  Before Kiri could catch her breath, the enemy spirits attacked with a fury that shocked her to her core.

  Pain exploded over every inch of her being as the enemy focused their assault. For a moment, she didn’t think she could bear it, but Eddrick’s memory flashed through her mind. She wouldn’t let him die in vain. She would hold his place.

  Her strength renewed, Kiri repelled the attack and waited to see what the enemy would try next. They seemed to realize they couldn�
�t defeat her, and they moved on to the next spirit in line. Glesni repelled them with no visible effort, and they continued on down the line, searching for a weak link in the chain.

  Kiri’s vision fuzzed when they focused in on Agommi. He repelled their initial attack, but they sensed something in him that made them persist. Perhaps, Kiri thought, they sensed his grief at the loss of his son. He didn’t last long under their concentrated assault. His light flickered, and Kiri willed her strength to him. It had no effect. He flickered again, and the light of his spirit shattered into a thousand pieces and faded into the night.

  No! Kiri’s head fell to her chest, weakness flooding her heart at the loss of her last remaining family member. She was alone: well and truly alone. She could have fallen to the ground and wept for days from sheer, crushing grief, but Agommi’s loss left a hole in the shield. All the spirits shifted to cover the empty place, and Kiri adjusted her position and tried to find a new source of strength.

  She had only one hope left.

  Aibek.

  She had to stay strong. Her son still fought the enemy somewhere beneath her. Tears filled her soul, but she kept Eddrick’s face in her mind and focused on the shield. She would do everything in her power to make sure her son won the battle on the ground. Everything. Anything.

  The night stretched into an endless moment of pain and grief. Nothing existed except for Aibek’s struggle below. Nothing else mattered. She would live for him.

  * * *

  From his perch atop Gamne, Faruz struggled to make out the dynamics of the battle below. It wasn’t a structured battle like he was taught to oversee. There were no clear lines, no flanks to defend or shore up. It was a jumbled mass of bodies, small pockets of men and women fighting desperately against their foes. Without the signs he’d been taught to watch for, Faruz had no idea if the villagers were winning or losing. The emrialk continued their haunting cries but had only snuck out of the forest far enough to steal the bodies of the dead soldiers beside the tree line.

  Much of the training he’d done with the dragons had proved just as useless as his officer training. He couldn’t swoop and swing in the dark, when he couldn’t tell friend from foe. The archers had been more effective. Their dragons could bring them low enough to shoot an arrow or two, aiding the villagers in their battle against the invading army.

  “I give up! Put me down. I need to fight with my friends.”

  Gamne swung his head around and peered at Faruz but made no argument before he dove for the ground and landed in the center of the melee.

  Enemies and friends alike scrambled away from the dragon’s descent. Faruz climbed off the dragon and drew his father’s longsword.

  He waited for Gamne to take flight, but the dragon settled low to the ground and rumbled.

  “I help you, if I can.”

  Faruz smiled and nodded. He put his back to the dragon and waited to see who would challenge him.

  For a long moment, none did. The enemy soldiers gaped at the scene and many left in search of easier battles.

  Finally, three men faced him. Each held a dripping sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. They danced back and forth, keeping just outside Faruz’s reach.

  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, adding to the tincture’s power, and Faruz fought a grin. They were trying to goad him into stepping away from the dragon, if he was reading their movements right. And he was pretty sure he was.

  Faruz closed his eyes and breathed in the cold night air, calming his nerves and focusing on the sounds of footsteps and heavy breathing his enemy made. The gentle sound of the dragon’s strong heartbeat eased his nerves.

  A booted foot squelched in the muck in front of him, and Faruz opened his eyes and swung his blade in a calculated counterattack. He bent to the left, easily avoiding the enemy’s blade, and his sword cut deep into the soldier’s flank. The man screamed and dropped his sword, clutching at his side. A river of dark blood flowed through his fingers. Before the man could either fall or stagger away, the other two stepped in, closing off Faruz’s view of the injured soldier.

  “You’ll regret that,” the taller of the two warned. Blood dripped from his sword and covered his once-yellow uniform. A brass button gleamed in the flickering firelight, somehow untainted by the filth coating the rest of his coat.

  An officer. And a high-ranking one, based on the amount of brass gleaming at his collar and sleeves. Faruz adjusted his stance, facing the officer more directly, but never letting the other soldier out of his sight.

  The short man moved first, jabbing his dagger toward Faruz’s side. Between his years of training and the extra speed the tincture gave him, he had no difficulty side-stepping the attack. Before he’d stopped moving, the officer stepped closer in a vicious barrage that pressed Faruz back toward the dragon.

  Gamne chirruped in alarm, but Faruz ignored him. His attention focused purely on the two men in front of him.

  Again, the shorter man moved to attack, but this time, Faruz anticipated the move and slid his sword under the man’s swing and jabbed hard, the tip sinking deep into the soldier’s thigh. The man screamed in pain but didn’t drop his weapons. The officer pressed his attack again, but this time, Faruz was ready.

  Faruz parried the first jab and pressed closer, leaving his own broadsword useless, but also moving inside the officer’s reach. The enemy’s eyes widened in surprise, but Faruz wouldn’t give him time to recover. He sank his dagger deep into the man’s chest and immediately yanked it free.

  He resumed his fighting stance, planting his feet in the ankle-deep muck and waiting for the officer’s next attack.

  The man with the gleaming buttons dropped his sword. He grabbed at his chest and coughed. A line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. He stepped back, but his boot slid in the mud and he fell forward to his knees.

  A horrifying scream of terror and rage filled the night, startling Faruz’s gaze away from the dying man. The other soldier, the shorter one, ran to the officer’s side and wiped the blood from his face with a dingy sleeve.

  Faruz stood still, unable to tear his gaze from the two men. After a long moment, the officer gave a final gasp and fell still. The other man stood but didn’t face Faruz. Instead, he produced a white rag from a pocket and tied it to an abandoned spear he found on the ground nearby.

  The white rag fluttered in the night’s wind, echoing the soldier’s cry. “Retreat! Lord Kyron has fallen! Retreat!”

  At the man’s announcement, enemy soldiers within earshot dropped their weapons and turned to flee.

  “What do we do?” A villager asked, not even trying to hide the bewilderment on his face and in his voice.

  “Let them go.”

  Another man stepped up beside them. “What if they come back and attack again tomorrow?”

  Faruz shrugged. “Then we’ll fight them tomorrow. We’re not the kind of men to stab a fleeing man in the back, are we?”

  No one answered, but several men shifted as if to follow the escaping army.

  An endless silence stretched, filled only with the groans of the dying and moans of pain from the injured.

  Gamne finally said what Faruz had been thinking. “What now? We cannot risk the forest with the emrialk so close. But we cannot stay here.”

  “Gather everyone to the north of the battlefield who can walk.” He waved to the dragons circling overhead, and Gamne rumbled as if to echo his meaning.

  One by one, the dragons swooped down and landed in the muddy field. The dying fires lent an eerie cast to the scene. Faruz dragged an unsteady breath through his teeth and waved the riders over.

  He handed one vial of the tincture to the first five to reach him, which included Ahren and Zifa. “One drop of this should be enough to heal the wounded.” He ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the dozens of bodies littering the ground near him. “Don’t waste it on the dead. Make sure they have a heartbeat.”

  In the distance, and emrialk screeched.
/>   “Gamne, can you and the other dragons move the dead and the wounded away from the forest?”

  Without a word, Gamne spread his wings and took to the air. He and the other dragons went about the grisly business of moving the villagers and the enemies to safety with only an occasional chirp between them.

  * * *

  The fighting ended as abruptly as it had begun. The spirits fighting against the forcefield stopped and drifted away. The battle had ended, but Kiri didn’t know — or care— who had won. Her Eddrick was gone. And this time, he was gone forever. How could she face an eternity without him? He’d been with her for at least a dozen lifetimes. How would she ever live again without his face to comfort and guide her?

  She hunched in on herself, unable to stop herself from falling toward the black ground below. Every part of her being screamed out for her husband, but he couldn’t answer back. He never would. Never seemed like such a long time.

  The sun rose, but Kiri didn’t notice. Why would she care? Her love was dead.

  “Kiri?”

  “Go away,” she sobbed.

  “Your son needs you,” the voice said gently. “He’s calling for you.”

  Kiri stifled another wracking sob and pulled herself upright. “My son? He’s alive?”

  “That’s right. Aibek. He won, but he needs you. He needs his mother right now.”

  This time, Kiri raised her head and met Glesni’s gentle brown eyes.

  She drew a deep breath, even though she couldn’t feel the air in her lungs anymore and squared her shoulders.

  “Well, then I’d better go to him.” She closed her eyes, focused on the point of light her son created, and let herself fly through space until she stood near him.

  26

  Meditation

  Aibek wiped his blade on the fallen enemy’s sleeve and hurried down the tower stairs. He swept along the lanes, toward the palace at the center of the city.