by Linn Tesli
The Silverling convulsed and fell dead to the ground beside Everine. Her heart slammed against her chest. The number of those who had died in order for her to protect Ayva were piling up.
“If you had wanted me to hug you, all you had to do was ask.” Birken grinned.
He stood, and Everine dusted herself off. “This really isn’t the time, Birken. There are others out there.”
“Yes. We need to disappear. Get your mare and stay close. There is a back door near where my stallion was. We ride north.”
Nodding her assent, Everine hurried to fetch her mare. She took the unicorn by the reins and led her carefully toward the stall Birken had pointed out.
“What about the other unicorns?” she asked him.
“You’re right, Ev. Yirin would want them to have the chance to run.”
They left their saddled unicorns and ran down the length of the stable, opening the doors to every stall. “When we open the outside door, you run,” Everine whispered to each of them. When the unicorns thumped their hooves lightly in consent, Everine and Birken hurried to leave.
Once outside, they mounted their unicorns. The rest of the unicorns followed, galloping past them and disappearing into the treeline. Everine would have followed their lead, but Birken was not moving.
“Birk, we really ought to—” She followed his line of sight. Yirin hung naked by her arms from the huge linden tree that stood behind her cottage. Broken vines still clung to her hair. Blood streamed down between her legs into a crimson pool on the ground. Her gaze was wide and motionless.
Everine shut her eyes at the bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t want to rush Birken, but there was no time.
“North—right, Birken?”
He remained frozen in his saddle, staring at Yirin’s body. When Everine reached out to touch his shoulder, he said absently, “We have to bury her.”
Everine clung awkwardly to the reins with one hand. Her injured wrist pulsed with her rapid heartbeats. She steered her unicorn in front of Birken and pointed a finger at Ayva. “If we do not go now, Yirin will not be the only one hanging from that tree.”
Birken looked at her then, and his eyes regained their focus.
“We ride. Now!” He kicked his heels, and his black stallion gathered speed.
“Run,” Everine said, and the mare set off after him. As they galloped through the trees, a scream chased after them.
“No! Kiros!” The voice howled. The remaining Silverlings had found their brothers. The forest stirred as the large pack of Silverlings hastened to leave Yirin’s glade. As disconcerting as it was, the racket they created gave Everine an idea of how far behind they were. She could only hope that the Silverlings would not catch their trail.
Everine and Birken did not look back, and continued to drive the unicorns to their limits as they raced on. The other unicorns were nowhere to be seen.
They rode through the night and another sunset was approaching before Birken finally stopped. They had only slowed down on occasion for Everine to feed Ayva, at which point the unicorns would help themselves to the grass while trotting onwards. Birken appraised Everine’s condition, rubbing one hand behind his neck.
“I suppose the two of you could use some rest. Maybe some food would do us all a bit of good too.” His gaze fell downward, and he shook his head.
They led the unicorns off the trail until they found a suitable spot to make camp. When Birken had rubbed down the unicorns, the creatures trotted down to a nearby stream. Birken inspected the perimeter before he picked up Everine’s bow and quiver and left in search of dinner.
Everine took the time to bind her wrist. It was awkward at first, but she finally managed. When she was done, she unwrapped Ayva, cradling her in one arm. The baby was looking a little pinched.
She stroked Ayva’s chin, choking on her words. “I am so sorry.” She gritted her teeth against the throbbing in her wrist. “Truly. Eat now, precious.”
The yellow mare trotted to her side when Ayva had finished feeding and nudged Everine gently on the shoulder. Everine sighed and leaned her head on the mare’s neck. Digging her hooves into the ground, the mare bent her front knees low.
Everine looked at her with confusion. “What is it?” As she gazed into the mare’s gentle eyes, the creature’s horn began to glow. The unicorn touched the tip of it to Everine’s injured wrist.
The damaged area reflected the light from the horn and, in the blink of an eye, the pain dissolved. The mare whinnied with delight and stepped away once more. Astounded, Everine unwrapped her wrist, turning it this way and that. It had completely healed.
Birken returned with three ferrets skewered on an arrow and began preparing them. Everine was too famished to intervene. She briefly thought about putting out the fire so as not to be seen, but they should be far enough ahead of the Silverlings. Besides, they needed to eat.
Her stomach growled as she took the first bite. The lean meat nearly melted on her tongue. “This wasn’t our deal, Birken,” she pointed out. “I am supposed to cook, remember?”
Birken managed a discernible response between mouthfuls. “I figured since I was supposed to protect the two of you, and you saved my life instead, it’s the least I can do.”
Everine did not disagree, though in truth he had saved her first. As they ate, Ayva slept.
Birken stared at Everine with unblinking eyes. Uncomfortable and self-aware of her figure, she pulled her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them. Her round and soft features had to be strange to him, as an Earthling, though she had a feeling he didn’t mind strange all that much.
Everine was not used to men looking at her like that. Aurora had always been the more endearing sister. Men passed Everine by in favor of Aurora. Even their parents had often put Aurora’s needs first. They had all assumed she would be the first to marry. She was as beautiful as she was kind and caring. Of course, Everine had seen in her sister what everyone else had, and she had been especially proud of her for her selfless nature.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Birken asked, “You said you had a sister? I’m sorry you have had to endure so much. What about your parents, though? Do they still live?”
Everine bit down on her lip at the memories. She had spent a lot of years trying to bury the pain of losing them into the depths of her heart. The thought of them, however, still hurt.
“Our parents died in a terrible accident when we were quite young—the ground opened up and swallowed them whole, along with a number of other traders on their way from Blanchess Bay to the city of Beregend.” She paused, dragging her fingers through the dirt. “It must have been my eleventh year. The cleft afterwards left in the earth now serves as a defensive trench near the village of Avionnè.”
The smoke from the campfire clouded Birken’s eyes. “Now I’m truly sorry. I know the incident you speak about.”
Everine stared at the ground. Never one for crying, she had not shed a single tear for the loss of her parents, but Aurora had been inconsolable. Left to care for Aurora, Everine had decided that her sister should never want for anything.
When times had been hardest, Everine attempted to conceal their misfortune from her sister. She was not particularly proud of some of what she had done to accomplish this, but she never doubted the necessity. Stealing for their survival had been better than starving.
“How did you manage to get by on your own?” Birken asked, blowing rings of smoke into the flames.
“The kindness of a friend. She was a Siren and a real blessing to us. We would have never made it without her help.” Everine smiled wearily, though her heart was laden with grief. If she had known she was going to run, she wouldn’t have told Sereana to leave. But there had been no time to seek her out once the decision was made.
Sereana had come to Beregend to work as a songstress for a rich lord who had fallen in love with her voice. Her mother had sold her for a bucketful of jewels and the promise that Sereana would be given whatever
she needed, as long as she stayed loyal to her master. He had been true to his word, and sometimes Sereana had shared her master’s generosity with Everine. She would always be thankful for that. No matter their misfortunes, Everine had always been particular about making it seem publicly as though their situation was better than it was. No man would have wanted to marry either of them otherwise. Not that anyone ever had.
“What do you know of the unicorns and their healing powers?” Everine asked, hoping to change the subject.
Birken’s gaze fell on her uninjured wrist. “I know their power comes from their horns, but it is closely linked to their hearts. If removed, the unicorns are simply large horses. One can reforge their horns into powerful talismans. Mind you, the unicorn must have shed the horn and its powers of its own free will, or else the talisman will simply be a worthless trinket. Anything performed with the horn is an act of love, and so it has no power if taken from them by force. Also, the unicorn’s magic can be spent.”
Everine glanced at her mare and whispered, “What happens if they spend it all?”
“They die.”
Birken sucked on his pipe and leaned back on one elbow. Changing the topic again, Everine asked something she had been wondering for some time. “I know we met on a merchant ship, but what exactly is it that you do for a living, Birk?”
He chewed on his meat and replied with his mouth full. “I am a bounty hunter.”
Everine returned to her food. Bounty hunters would do anything to catch their prize. Given the low price for which he had agreed to travel with her, he didn’t strike her as someone who valued wealth. Perhaps he was in it for the action? It fit, though, given his references to his extensive travels and the explanation he had given Yirin about who Everine was. From what she knew, Earthlings rarely left the Chasm or travelled by themselves—not unless they had good reason.
The image of Yirin’s dead body flashed before Everine’s eyes. She had managed to shut the memory out of her mind during the ride, but now it flooded back, along with everything that had happened inside the stable. A tear trickled down her cheeks.
“I am sorry about Yirin,” she said.
Shadows crossed Birken’s face. “Yirin was a close friend. She was one of the last wild elves to attempt to save the few free unicorns left in Aradria. The ones she cared for had escaped capture. More often than not, they were badly wounded. She would tend to them for as long as they needed, and they were allowed to stay if they wanted and leave when they wished. Those we saw in the stables would have faced a terrible fate if they were captured. I don’t know how far they will get, but at least we gave them a chance.”
The knowledge of Yirin’s sacrifice made Everine even more remorseful about her death. She worried about the future of the unicorns Yirin had died to protect.
Clenching his jaw, Birken stared through the smoke. “The Silverlings have long executed vile deeds in the name of the Heartless King of Êvina—the self-proclaimed King of Aradria, Archenon.” He spat the words in disgust. “Now it seems the Zila’r-nath have begun propagating this evil of their own accord. Sickness spreads from the plains of Caradrea.”
Everine continued eating her meal in silence. Birken fell into his own thoughts for a while before sitting up abruptly.
“I don’t think the two of you should settle down in Caradrea after all, Ev.”
She stared at him with surprise. “What else would I do?”
A puff of smoke escaped the mouth of Birken’s pipe. He seemed to ponder her question carefully.
“I think you should come with me. Now, hear me out before you refuse. I don’t think Caradrea is safe, but I know a place where the king’s eyes do not venture. I am heading home, and I believe the Chasm of Bermunnos will be the safest place in Aradria for you to raise your child. I vowed to protect you, and this is the best way I know how.”
He sounded so sure of himself, but Everine was not as certain as he was. Besides, she did not wish to continue burdening him with their safety.
As she slept that night, Everine did not rest easily. Bleeding corpses inhabited her dreams. Crimson pools clouded her vision, and the sound of twisted voices made her insides revolt.
The taste of bile coated her tongue and the nightmares still pestered Everine’s mind as she woke to find Birken strapping a basket onto the neck of her mare.
He smiled and said gingerly, “I thought it might be better for the both of you if Ayva had a cradle of sorts. I’ve made it fit in front of the saddle.”
Nodding, Everine hid her distress. Birken must have spent most of the night making the cradle. Thankful for the relief of not having to carry Ayva, she began preparing breakfast. She mixed wheat, rye, water and spices to make bread. She also made horse bread from beans and peas to feed the unicorns. They were quite content eating the tall grass in the forest, but it did not hurt to provide them with something else as well. She placed the doughs on a grill above the fire and fed Ayva.
Birken and Everine ate without much conversation. They both knew they could not stay in one spot for much longer.
“Your mare needs a name,” Birken said when they had nearly finished. “I have come to agreements with my stallion that he should be named Blaze.” The black unicorn neighed proudly and stomped the ground. Both Birken and the creature looked equally content with their decision.
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Standing, she patted the stallion on its chest. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Blaze.” Everine curtsied, and inclined her head. “Of course you need names.”
Turning, she went to stroke her mare’s muzzle. “What do you think?” The muscles in the mare tightened as she looked deep into Everine’s eyes. The mare was not as big or as sturdy as Blaze, but Everine felt she had willpower to compensate for her physical shortcomings.
She had protected Everine and Ayva in the stable with no concern for her own wellbeing. It was as though Everine could see inside her soul. She was a fighter, this one.
It came to Everine like a whisper in the back of her mind, as if she had known it all along. “How do you feel about Dandelion?”
A rumble of amusement sounded from behind her, and Everine turned to see Birken in fits of laughter on the ground.
“You want to name her after a weed? That’s a way to say ‘Thank you for riding me to safety.’” He pretended to hold onto tiny reins while galloping his fingers through the grass.
“First off, I wasn’t talking to you,” Everine said sourly, as Birken kept rolling on the ground. “Now, hold your horses, Earthling. Yes, it’s a weed. It is a strong weed—resilient and forceful. It finds a way to grow and spread in the cracks of a mountain just as well as in the soil of the forest. Where nothing else will grow, the dandelion finds its way. I believe it is a fitting name for a formidable survivor. Besides, it compliments her color.”
Dandelion whinnied in agreement and threw her head back, shaking her mane with pride.
Birken got to his feet, wiped his eyes, and collected himself. “It certainly fits her spirit. Fair enough. Now, we need to make haste.”
Everine could not agree more. She placed Ayva in the basket. Birken had not only lined its insides with soft moss, he had also made straps to hold the baby in place using thongs he had taken from the saddlebags. Ayva would be safe and shielded. Tucking her securely in a blanket, Everine strapped her in before mounting Dandelion. Birken had made sure Ayva’s basket was positioned carefully so that Everine could see her while riding.
Everine offered Birken a warm smile to let him know how thankful she was for his thoughtfulness. Grinning, he ran toward Blaze and mounted the unicorn by vaulting into the saddle from behind.
Once they rejoined the trail, the unicorns galloped toward the Caradrean border. Everine focused on the rhythm of the ride to block out all the horrible images that inhabited her mind. She allowed herself to think of nothing but the sound of the unicorn’s hooves racing through the forest.
Who knew what would lie beyond the borders
of the Land of Air?
4
The Tale of Creation
- Pyralis -
Pyralis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He leaned over the scroll of parchment while dipping his quill in the ink, recording his thoughts with careful precision.
* * *
Dear Gaija
* * *
I am concerned. Centuries have passed, and the second coming is almost upon us. With the Elemental regents gone, Aradria has been thrown into chaos once more. Over the past two centuries, nature has become unbalanced, and what dwells in the dark has begun to surface. It troubles me that the spirits have lingered for so long. I fear it might not be enough.
Pyralis lifted his head at the sound of footsteps from the hall. But he had bolted the doors to prevent anyone from entering, and the sound of footsteps soon faded away. More at ease, Pyralis returned to his letter.
* * *
Three-headed beasts and creatures of old have emerged from the abyss and other dark corners across Aradria. The lands have been plagued by nature’s untamed fury in the form of such catastrophes as typhoons, tidal waves, and wildfires. I hope you are safe in Catyan Forest. Nature cannot tolerate the unbalance much longer.
I fear for Aradria, though we both knew of the consequences. The king has gained many allies, and he has been able to see almost everything through his sorcery. I am glad to report that he has not yet seen the child.
Pyralis paused, smiling at a painting on the wall, which portrayed a white trunk twisted around itself and the roots of a tree as old as time. It was a vivid image. With a sense of renewed hope, he finished his letter.
I believe the new age is on the brink of unfolding. Perhaps we might have peace at last.