by Tamie Dearen
She groaned, and he shifted her arm to make her more comfortable.
Wait… she groaned?
“She’s not dead!” He yelled out.
The room erupted with shouts.
*****
Kaevin labored to take a breath against the heavy weight compressing his lungs. Forcing his eyelids open, he saw a man’s face, blue eyes framed with a mass of dark auburn hair, hanging in curly masses that blended with his beard. A smile bloomed on the face as it jostled in his vision, and he felt the jarring of motion. Though he ought to fight against the Water Clan warrior who held him captive, he barely had the energy to hold his eyes open.
“You’re awake? Well met, Kaevin. I’m Alleraen. I’ve volunteered to carry you and Alora, and I don’t intend to let my brother get his hands on you again.”
“Brother?” he croaked.
“My brother, Drakeon. Or Vindrake as you know him.”
Kaevin tried to understand his words through the muddle in his brain. Recognizing the weight on his chest as Alora, he relished the pressure, despite the effort required to breathe. He had only one compelling thought. “Is someone nearby? Someone called Jireo?” His voice sounded raspy to his ears.
“I’m here, Kaevin.” Jireo’s face appeared, bobbing beside him. Kaevin realized they weren’t simply walking, but running down the passageway. Yet Alleraen didn’t appear winded, though he bore both him and Alora in his arms. Were it not for the bouncing steps and the rapid passing of the cavern walls before his eyes, Kaevin could have imagined he was standing still.
“Jireo… our bond tells me… you’re in grave danger.”
“As are you.” Jireo’s laughter rang out, echoing against the walls of the stone corridor. “I expect we’ll both be in serious danger until we’re long gone from this cavern. Yet I can hardly complain, as I’ve already seen you die and return to life once today.”
“I’m certain Kaevin and Alora were never truly dead.” Alleraen twisted his lips to the side, clearly bemused.
“I’m quite certain they were dead. Kaevin and I are defender-bonded. I knew the moment his life left his body.”
Alora and I were dead?
“Impossible,” Alleraen replied, and Kaevin was inclined to agree.
“Something happened to reverse the shaman’s death curse. Or perhaps it reversed because Charles interrupted before it was completed.”
“It matters not if we don’t escape the caverns with our lives.” Despite his dire words, Alleraen’s expression was unworried. On the contrary, he seemed calm. Perhaps even happy.
As they skidded around a corner into a broader corridor, Jireo yelled out, “Glare it! Sentries ahead… coming this way. How much farther to the exit?”
“We’re close to the alcove, but they’ll engage us before we’re all able to get inside. Arista needs time to seal it behind us.” Alleraen yelled over his shoulder, “Graely! Trouble ahead.”
My father’s here?
Graely appeared, jogging beside Alleraen. “How many?”
“Ten of Vindrake’s men to our eight,” Alleraen answered.
“We’ve only six as we can’t count Alleraen or Charles,” Jireo reasoned.
“Let me fight. I’ve only a few broken toes.” Kaevin cleared his throat and opened his eyes wide, trying to look strong.
His father’s half-grin seemed strangely gruesome on his bruised and bloodied face. “Kaevin! You’re awake! I’m afraid Alora’s too weak for us to separate you, even for a moment.”
Kaevin recognized the truth of his father’s words, sensing only a feeble connection to his soulmate.
Alleraen whipped to his left. “Here! In this alcove. To open it—”
“I’ll open it!”
Kaevin rejoiced to discover Arista was alive.
“Graely! Have you got any more firecrackers?” Charles pulled up beside Graely, Jireo and the other warriors who were preparing to make a stand.
How did all these people get here? Has it been three days already?
“I’ve no more of the noisemakers, Charles. Have you any of your own?”
“No, but I’ve got one last trick I didn’t lose when Alora transported me.” He pulled out a large pouch from the pack on his back and flung the contents, bouncing and clattering, toward the oncoming Water Clansmen. The contents of a second sack followed quickly behind the first. A blanket of small balls rolled down the corridor. The foremost sentry stepped on some of the objects and his feet flew out from beneath him, sending him toppling to the ground. Another and then another tumbled this way and that, arms flailing to land with heavy thuds on the stony cavern floor.
“What was that?” asked Graely.
“Marbles,” Charles answered.
Kaevin saw another Water Clan guard slip and fall before his vision narrowed and darkened. Aware of Alora’s strength ebbing away, he struggled to shift her limp body on top of him until her head fell back on his shoulder. He craned his neck up to press his lips to her cheek and whisper in her ear. “We’re together now, Alora. With you, I’m not afraid to die.”
Alleraen watched with admiration as Arista used her gift on the hidden alcove door without needing to know which stones would cause the lock to pop open. She hopped from the bench, intent on joining the others in the fight, but Charles, Graely and Jireo were already running back.
“Go! Go!” Charles called out. “The marbles knocked most of them down.”
Alleraen tensed as four sentries had made it past the rolling balls, but were quickly cut down by Morvaen, Naegle and Worster. The other Water Clan warriors were struggling to their feet, only to slip and fall again. Then Alleraen’s eyes locked with those of a tall man with straight black hair, standing in the rear behind the bobbling guards.
“Drakeon.” He spat the word under his breath, like a curse.
As if he’d heard his name, Drakeon pulled his lips back in a haughty smile, lifting his sword and pointing it in invitation.
Yes, I’ll fight you, Drakeon. This time I’ll kill you with the first swing of my blade.
“Alleraen? Are you not coming?” Arista stood on the bench, poised to enter the hidden passageway, staring with accusing eyes.
Alleraen glanced at the burdens in his arms. Alora appeared so fragile, with her pale face and bluish lips. Kaevin lay beneath her, once again unconscious. Yet Alleraen already knew what his decision would be. There’s more than one way to defeat you, Brother… and more than one way for you to defeat me. I almost lost everything earlier today, and I won’t throw away my opportunity for redemption.
He stepped onto the stone bench with one last look at Drakeon. Another time, Brother. As he moved inside, Arista closed the door behind them with a clank that resounded up the long stairwell to the surface.
*****
“We mustn’t stop.” The compulsion struck Jireo once again, frantic and building. Dread pounded inside his head like a deep drum. He could hardly hear his own words as they left his lips. Surely this time, I’ll die with Kaevin. I can’t possibly bear to watch it happen again.
“I’m only following Graely’s orders, Jireo.” Alleraen stood, waiting patiently for someone to help him lay his burdens on the ground. “We’ve traveled far, and everyone is exhausted. Even I must admit my arms are fatigued and cramping.”
“No, you don’t understand. Kaevin’s dying; they’re both dying. My defender bond is compelling me to do something.”
“You’re certain there’s no mistake this time?”
“There was no mistake the last time. I promise you, Kaevin and Alora were truly dead.”
“He speaks truth, though you don’t believe it, Alleraen. I knew when my son’s lifeblood no longer flowed.” Graely moved to help relieve Alleraen of his human burdens. Alleraen dropped to one knee as Graely lifted Alora’s limp form and eased her to the ground, placing a rucksack under her head. As Alleraen laid Kaevin beside her, Arista slipped in, like a shadow, to put their hands together.
“You’ve put them th
e wrong way; this is Alora’s burnt hand,” Arista fussed.
“It doesn’t matter. Neither of them can feel pain at the moment.” Jireo spoke in a gruff tenor. Yet when Arista surged against him, crying, he blinked back tears of his own. “Graely. I’m sorry to say this, but I feel the press of the defender bond again.”
“We’re still two day’s travel from Laegenshire. Do you believe they can survive that long?”
“I don’t believe they can survive this day.”
“Then, we must wake Alora. She must transport them to a healer.”
“Let me try to wake her.” Charles knelt beside Alora, speaking into her ear in gentle urgent tones. Ten breaths later, with no response forthcoming, he looked up with forlorn eyes.
“Perhaps I can rouse Kaevin, and he can wake her.” Jireo crouched next to Kaevin, calling out in a louder voice, while attempting to duplicate the desperate emotion that seemed to have called them to him during the Laegenshire battle. “Kaevin! Wake up, Kaevin!”
After a moment Kaevin’s eyes blinked open, and he gave a weak smile at the circle of anxious faces. “Thank you all for your valiant efforts. Alora and I are happy to die together, surrounded by those we love.”
“No! Why will you not try to live?” Jireo wanted to slap Kaevin for his benign acceptance.
“Alora’s body is fighting a losing battle; I feel her pain and her weakness. She’s drawn on our bond until I am equally weak; my head is pounding. Though our time is short, I’m eternally grateful to be free from Vindrake’s hand.”
“Jireo!”
“Darielle?”
“I’ve seen Alora and Kaevin through Graely’s eyes; he wears my sightstone. Laethan wishes to ask if Alora and Kaevin can transport to Laegenshire.”
“We can’t awaken her, and Kaevin says she’s drawn all his strength away through the soulmate bond.”
“Laethan says Graely could give Kaevin his strength, father to son. It will leave him weak, and he must break the contact before he gives too much. It won’t be enough to heal Alora, but perhaps she would have enough strength to wake up and transport them to Laegenshire.”
“Yes. We’ll do it.” Jireo knew the plan would work before he even passed on Laethan’s idea to Graely. The pressure of his defender bond diminished, and he took his first easy breath since Kaevin left the portal.
*****
Alleraen had his doubts about the suggestion, despite the fact it’d come from Laegenshire’s healer. He’d never heard that a parent could donate strength to a child. Kaevin had already fallen unconscious again, and Graely was listening to arguments about how it should be done.
“You should cut your hand, for certain. Blood is always the best way.” Morvaen raised his voice to be heard.
“But Laethan said you only need to spit on your hand,” Jireo insisted.
One voice clamored for attention, “Listen to me! Listen to me!” Arista let out a shrill whistle, and the arguing men fell silent. “Finally… I’ve been trying to tell you… I know how to do it; I’ve known for a long time.”
A few chuckles and low murmurs rippled through the group.
“I’m not lying. Mothers do it all the time. All that’s required is sacrificial love and mother’s milk. Or a drop of blood on the baby during birth. Even a single tear falling on the skin can allow strength to flow from mother to child. It’s why many women die giving birth.”
“But this is not the same thing, of course.” Graely gave a patronizing pat to Arista’s head.
“It is the same.” Arista batted his hand away. “Wait until you speak to Laethan again, and I’ll prove it. Meanwhile, I’m telling you any form of moisture will do, including spit.”
“Why not try the spit like Laethan suggested?” Charles gave Graely a little shove toward Kaevin. “If you bleed on him, he’ll probably become Borg and assimilate you or something.”
While Alleraen pondered the strange comment, Graely fell to one knee, depositing a fat drop of spittle in his palm and clasping Kaevin’s hand. Nothing happened. At least, nothing appeared to happen. He simply froze in that position, unmoving, like a statue. Ten breaths. Twenty breaths. Too long.
“Graely?” Alleraen tapped his shoulder.
Graely fell to the side, eyes glazed open, unspeaking, his hand still clinging to Kaevin’s.
“Pull him away!” Arista grasped his arm, tugging ineffectually. Morvaen lifted Graely under his armpits, dragging him away from Kaevin and Alora.
Graely gasped for air, mumbling, “Did it work?”
“Kaevin! Kaevin!” Jireo called out, shaking his arm.
Opening his eyes, Kaevin drew in a shuddering breath. He lifted his hand in a weak gesture toward Charles. “I’m sorry, Charles. Sorry I didn’t protect her.” His eyes fluttered closed again.
“Why didn’t it work? I don’t understand.” Jireo’s vision blurred as water welled in his eyes. “My bond relaxed the moment Laethan relayed the plan.”
“Let me try it with Alora.” Charles dropped beside her, swiping at the dampness on his face. “I’m her true father. Vindrake may have given her his genes, but I’m the one who loved her.”
“You don’t share her blood,” Arista told Charles. She turned to Alleraen, raising an eyebrow.
Understanding dawned in Alleraen’s mind. “It’s me. I can give her my strength.” On Arista’s face he spied the smallest hint of a smile, which she hid behind her hand with a cough.
*****
Alora heard the insistent voices, but tried to ignore them. Is that Uncle Charles? I must have overslept for school.
As her muddled head cleared, she was only aware of one thing… pain. Her arms burned as if the skin had been peeled away. Excruciating reality intruded on her peaceful unconsciousness. She endeavored to crawl back inside her black hole.
“Alora! Wake up, Alora.” Uncle Charles’ face appeared in her squinting vision. “That’s it, stay awake.”
“No… it hurts too much.” She didn’t even try to understand where she was. Or why Uncle Charles was with her. She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to.
“Are you strong enough to transport?”
“No… please… let me die.”
“Alora, you have to stay alive… to save Kaevin.”
Kaevin. I can’t let Kaevin die. No matter how much it hurts. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Can you make it to the hospital? Just you and Kaevin?” asked Uncle Charles.
“No!” Jireo protested. “The healers in Montana will separate them; they don’t understand soulmates. And I can’t let Kaevin go without me.”
“I don’t think she’s strong enough to take anyone else with her. She’s barely even conscious.”
Alora would’ve protested, but blackness closed in on her, enveloping her in a soft pain-free blanket.
“Alora! Stay awake! Can you transport to Montana?”
She forced her eyes open, breathing fast against the rush of agony.
“Let me try again,” said a deep voice. “I can give her more strength.”
Alora frowned at the strange man who knelt beside her. He seems familiar.
“Be careful, Alleraen. You can go too far.” Graely’s voice came from somewhere, but Alora was too tired to look for him.
The strange man spit in his palm and reached for her hand.
“Gross. Don’t touch me with your spit.” Alora’s words came out slurred like a drunk person.
“Sorry, Alora. It’s necessary.” His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled.
Deep blue. Like my father’s. Too weak to resist, she cringed as he gently clasped her hand.
A rush of adrenaline pulsed through her body. Her heart raced. Pain. Clarity. She gasped for air. Turning her head, she saw Kaevin on her left. She tightened her hand around his, despite the agony of her seared palm. Cleared of the fog, her mind flew.
I need to transport. I can’t go to the hospital. Too many questions.
~ 21 ~
“Alora transported somewhere w
ith Kaevin and Jireo. Alleraen must not have let go in time. I pray they all survive.” Graely couldn’t rid himself of a gnawing fear he would never see his son again.
“It’s a pity Arista doesn’t have her brother’s gift of farsight. Jireo can communicate with Darielle, but we’ll have to wait until we reach Laegenshire before we learn whether the healers were able to save them.” Morvaen’s comment was innocuous enough, but Arista’s face turned as red as a glowing ember.
“Why does everyone always speak as if my brother is more gifted than I am?” Arista stomped her foot for emphasis. “I’m the one who closed the portal in Vindrake’s cavern. Jireo could never have accomplished that feat.”
Morvaen took a step back, holding up his hand. “I meant no offense, Arista. Of course your gift was invaluable.”
“Actually, Jireo re-opened the portal when his blood-brother-thing made him jump through the door.” Charles twisted his head, as if he were looking for someone in the shadows nearby.
“I hadn’t considered that the portal was unsealed.” Arista rubbed her forehead. “So all our work and sacrifice was fruitless?”
An iron weight settled in Graely’s gut. I sacrificed my son and Alora for no purpose.
“No, the portal has been resealed,” said Charles.
“By whom?” Graely asked. “Who else has the gift of gresses? Is it you, Charles? Have you discovered a gift of your own?”
“Ha! Not me, that’s for sure. I’ve got no gifts, and I don’t want them, either. Although I wouldn’t have minded it so much when I was trying to defend myself inside the caverns.”