The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil

by Melissa Collins

  “Other than the barmaids in Carpaen. In comparison, you are the only real woman they have seen in days. It might be too much for them,” Kaemin chortled.

  “Now I think it is my turn to request a change in subject,” Callum frowned. “All personal reasons aside, it doesn’t seem appropriate for us to discuss our Princess flaunting her body around a bunch of soldiers.”

  “Come now, Captain,” Gadiel gave a sympathetic pat on Callum’s back. “It’s all in good fun. And you know if she were to do so, you would enjoy the view with the rest of us.”

  Amused by the thought, Aiva glanced over to Callum, her eyes meeting his in an awkward stare. Through the sun-darkened surface of his skin, she thought she saw his cheeks brighten to a reddened hue before he looked away, avoiding her gaze. “It might be best if I not confirm or deny that assumption,” he mumbled.

  Behind them, a sudden commotion caught their attention, a loud whinny echoing through the area from the horses. Prepared for the worst, the four drew their weapons, alert, scanning the landscape for what might have caused the animals to react in such a way. “I don’t see anything, Captain,” Gadiel stated, his guard lowered, yet still tensed. Ready to attack if anything approached.

  “Keep an eye out,” Callum directed sternly. “Watch the sand as well. Some of the most dangerous creatures in the desert are also the smallest.”

  Cautiously, Aiva stepped around to the other side of the wagon. Grip tightened on her sword, she froze to find herself staring into a pair of glowing yellow eyes a few feet in the distance. “What about medium-sized creatures on all fours with very sharp teeth?” she exhaled, slowly stepping back toward the safety of the wagon. The animal moved with her. Slow. Calculating. It appeared to be a large cat of some kind, though the face was flat, widening at the nose. The jaw was squared, lips curled into a menacing snarl, looking almost like a grin, teeth barred, threatening. A show to intimidate its prey.

  Upon noticing the creature, Kaemin pulled Aiva backward, directing the others to its location. “I think Aiva found the culprit.”

  “What is that thing?” she breathed in disbelief. It was unlike any animal she’d seen within the borders of Tanispa. Hissing loudly, it began to circle the group. Each step brought it closer, sizing them up. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

  “The humans call it a calynx, though I’ve never seen one with my own eyes before,” Gadiel replied, his voice quiet. Not wanting to startle the creature into attacking prematurely.

  Callum took a half-step backward, slowly holding his hand out to one of the men near the wagon. “Maran,” he stated calmly. “Retrieve my bow. I will take it down from range.”

  Doing as instructed, the soldier turned to the horses, grabbing the longbow Callum indicated. No one dared take their eyes off the animal, anxiously awaiting the bow to be in Callum’s possession. Through the stillness of everyone’s held breath, an unexpected twang sounded from beside the wagon. Instantly, the calynx was in motion, its muscular hind legs carrying it forward with incredible speed. Aiva cried out in surprise at the sudden charge, not registering right away what had sparked the attack until she saw the creature leap at one of the men, a bow falling from his hands to the sand below.

  Without hesitation Callum burst into action. The calynx had the man pinned to the ground, snarling wildly. At Callum’s approach it lifted onto its hind legs, lashing outward with its claws, narrowly missing Callum’s hands.

  “Captain, be careful!” Gadiel shouted, rushing to Callum’s side, sword raised defensively. Callum was already striking at the animal, unable to land a blow through its powerful legs, deflecting every thrust of his blade.

  Aiva watched the scene in utter horror. Blood was visible on the creature’s teeth, though she couldn’t tell whose it was. The soldier remained underneath the calynx while Gadiel and Callum valiantly fought to get it away, the massive paws striking at them with incredible strength. Fearfully she backed away. In her mind it was easy to consider herself a skilled fighter, but when faced with the frightening possibility of being struck by a creature like this, she found herself doubting her own ability. There was a substantial difference between fighting the calynx and the simplicity of training with a wooden sword. The calynx was without doubt deadly. And she wasn’t prepared to come so close to death a second time.

  Maran circled the beast, keeping his distance to stand opposite Callum and Gadiel. He continued to hold Callum’s bow in his hands, arrow placed, drawn, waiting for an opening. At Callum’s direction, he and Gadiel retreated, allowing Maran to fire the shot, a shrill yelp coming from the calynx upon impact. Distracted by the pain, its attacks became clumsier. Ill-timed. Taking advantage of its injured state, Callum grabbed for it, yanking it from atop the soldier with a loud grunt of effort from the weight of the creature. Gadiel was at Callum’s side, dropping to his knees, driving his sword savagely into the calynx’s chest with a sharp twist of the blade. It gave one last whimpering cry before falling silent, a pool of blood soaking into the pale sand underneath.

  The men scrambled about while Callum was already on his feet to check on the fallen soldier, shouting angrily from the man’s side. “I did not tell you to shoot! What were you thinking?”

  Aiva couldn’t hear a response. Nervously she took a step forward, afraid to see the man Callum confronted. There was so much blood. Grotesque images flashed before her eyes, reminding her of Phelan’s body, the arrow lodged deep in his neck. She shuddered at the memory. But a single arrow was different from being mauled by a wild animal.

  “You might not want to see this, Aiva,” Kaemin whispered quietly, his hands gently resting on her shoulders to guide her away from the group. Being told she shouldn’t look only made her want to see it more. Despite the churning of her stomach, she was curious.

  She met with little resistance as she pulled away from Kaemin. He kept close, not wanting to let her wander too far. The rest of the men had taken to standing around, staring at the body of the fallen soldier. Forcing her way through the circle, she felt her throat contract, nausea filling her mouth at the sight of the man lying there. His face was unrecognizable under the deep scratches which covered it. He gazed emptily upward, one of his eyes sliced through from the claws. Callum’s hand slid away from the man’s neck, jaw clenched, rising to his feet in a rigid motion. “Let this be a lesson for everyone,” he stated, his tone harsh, cool. “We are not in training here. If you do not follow my directions, you will end up dead. Does everyone understand?”

  The men shifted uncomfortably, nodding their heads, afraid to speak out. Maran moved toward the mangled body, pausing to look at Callum for direction. “What should we do with him, Sir?”

  Callum’s eyes dimmed at the question. “Leave him,” he stated quietly. “We simply cannot take him with us.”

  Aiva’s heart went out to Callum. She could tell he wanted to do what was right, but they were limited. Too far from home. The landscape was unpredictable and they couldn’t risk the time they would lose if they stopped to burn and bury every soldier that fell. In a perfect world there would be no more death, though the only guarantee was that they would lose more men to Sytlea’s clutches along the way.

  “We need to keep moving,” Callum announced, taking his position at the front of the group once again, sheathing his blade to accept the bow from Maran’s hand. “I suggest you all keep your weapons at the ready. We cannot afford to lose any more men.”

  Chapter Ten

  Three days passed without a sign of civilization. The men were exhausted. Dehydrated. Even stopping at night to avoid notice from the Feh Noq, the heat strained their bodies, adding to their fatigue and discomfort. Aiva experienced the effects of the climate at a heightened severity from the others, though she refused to admit it. With every step, she could feel the muscles in her legs trembling, crying out for her to stop and rest. The exertion of travel was beyond anything she’d ever endured before. Her slender figure noticeably thinner from the lack of a proper
diet. She longed for one good solid meal. To feel full for the first time in over a week.

  When Callum gave the order for the men to begin search for a camp, she could already feel the evening chill in the air. It was almost dusk. They had traveled longer than usual. Aiva was uneasy at the thought of still being in motion while the sky already grew so dark. Very little was known of the Feh Noq beyond their nocturnal nature. There was no way to know when they would awaken for the night.

  The use of tents was no longer permitted for sake of time, allowing them to resume their journey more efficiently when morning came without need of packing an entire camp. Knowing argument was futile, Aiva resigned herself to sleeping outdoors, finding an open patch of sand behind a small rock formation to call her bed. Provisions were scarce, granting her nothing more than a single blanket from one of the travel packs to provide warmth. Curled into a fetal position, she tried to maintain what little body heat she could, hugging the thin fabric tightly against her. The others found sleep so easy. To Aiva, it was torture. She wanted a bed. A soft, feathery pillow. She longed to have the comforts of her palace quarters back again. It was disheartening to realize how far from home she was.

  To her paranoid senses, the sounds of the night were magnified. Strange howls filled the air. Distant. Not near enough to cause alarm, though Aiva’s heart raced regardless, afraid to close her eyes in fear that the creatures would come closer while she slept. She’d seen the snakes and scorpions that scurried across the ground during the day. She didn’t want to think what critters might run amok in the dark.

  Her skin crawled. She tried to force her eyes closed. Inevitably they would open again, making sleep impossible. Defeated, she sat up, leaning against the cool surface of the rocks behind her. If she allowed herself to overlook the area for a while, it was possible she might relax enough to eventually find some solace from the sore, aching muscles of her body.

  In the light of the moon she watched a shadow come into view overtop of her, sending her heart into a frenetic rhythm. Fearful of who approached, she pressed her back against the rock in attempts to conceal her presence. To her relief, she recognized the familiar glow of Callum’s eyes in the darkness, his hands stretched toward her, offering a bundle of what looked to be some type of fabric. “We have an extra blanket if you are cold.”

  “Do not worry about me,” she waved dismissively, praying Callum wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in her voice. The beat of her heart remained quick, pulsing the blood throughout her body with an uncomfortable clarity, her temples throbbing. Combined with the discomfort of the temperature, it was difficult not to snatch the material from Callum’s hands. She was freezing, but pride wouldn’t allow her to accept it.

  “There is no shame in admitting that you are cold,” Callum frowned. “We all are. No one will think less of you. Honestly, I feel as if you are trying to prove something on this journey. I merely have not been able to figure out what. And while I could inquire, I suspect you would choose not to answer.”

  “You are probably right in your suspicions.”

  “I figured as much. Suit yourself, then. I will use the blanket myself.”

  Aiva stiffened, surprised to hear Callum’s footsteps start to move away. He was leaving her? She didn’t want him to go. While his company wasn’t her preference, she couldn’t bear the thought of sitting there alone. Not with all the wild creatures prowling about the dunes in the dark. “Callum, wait,” she hissed into the shadows, afraid of talking too loudly, not wanting to wake the others. The sound of his footsteps paused, no words being spoken in response. He was listening. Waiting for her to say something more. Swallowing her pride, she motioned for Callum to return. “Will you sit with me for a few moments?” she asked, feeling pathetic for being reduced to her current state, desperate for any sense of normalcy in conversation. “I am not quite ready to sleep and I don’t want to be alone out here.”

  “My mind is in no condition to tolerate what our discussions tend to evolve into.” His tone was hollow. It hit her like a punch in the stomach to sense the emptiness there. Over the past few days he had been so willing to be at her side. It was odd for him to suddenly discard an opportunity to spend time with her.

  “We do not have to talk about current events,” she argued, beckoning him with more insistence. “If we are going to be friends, do you not think it is important for us to attempt civility? To see if we are capable of such?”

  “It has come to my notice that our capacity for civility tends to expire after only a few minutes in one another’s company.”

  “That works to our advantage then, as I only requested a few moments. By the time our tolerance has lapsed, we will already be parting ways.”

  Begrudgingly, Callum turned around, peering at her through the dim light from above. He held her gaze, as if expecting her to change her mind. Finding Aiva’s expression unchanging, Callum took a hesitant step closer. “I suppose I could spare a minute, then,” he mumbled, almost under his breath. Standing in front of Aiva, he looked uncertain. Confused.

  With a nervous smile, she lifted her blanket, patting the sand beside her. “Bring your extra blanket. Maybe between the two of us, we will be able to keep warm.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Nodding slightly, Aiva strained to widen her smile, hoping to appear more inviting. It was uncomfortable to consider being so close to him, but she felt safer with him there. He’d saved her life once before, and after seeing the way he handled the calynx, she was certain he would fight off any wild animal that might creep from the shadows.

  He was stiff in his movements, his own discomfort evident as he settled in against the rock, draping the blanket over them to pull it up around their shoulders. Whenever their arms brushed, Aiva could feel him recoil somewhat, attempting to keep their bodies from touching. There was something humorous about it. Aiva tried to contain her laughter, the lost expression in Callum’s eyes making it harder to repress, unable to hold back a quiet giggle.

  “What is it?” he peered at her, his unease quickly becoming more noticeable. Shaking her head, Aiva reached for Callum’s arm, forcing it to rest against hers under the blanket.

  “Despite what you might believe, I do not bite.”

  “I would not be so sure about that.”

  “And you were concerned about the abrasiveness of my words,” Aiva scoffed, gently pushing Callum away once again. She hoped he would sense the lightness of her tone. Although offended by his retort, she didn’t want him to leave. “If I am going to attempt politeness, you should put forth a similar effort. It only seems fair.”

  “You are right,” he nodded, casting Aiva an apologetic glance as he reset himself beside her. This time he showed no hesitation in being so close beyond a slight tenseness of his muscles.

  Staring straight ahead, Aiva fidgeted nervously, fingers clasping and unclasping in her lap. They remained silent, neither one saying a word. It was awkward, being in each other’s company, so close while yet seemingly so distant. Drawing her knees to her chest, she tightened her hold on the blanket, grateful for the additional warmth the extra fabric provided in addition to the heat which radiated from Callum’s body.

  “So…” she trailed off. Everything she could think to say felt silly. To avoid conversation of recent events required her to search for unrelated topics, finding her options limited to things that had long since become part of the distant past between them. “Your mother has been well, I hope?”

  Callum chuckled quietly. “As well as my mother can be. I worry about her, at times.”

  “I don’t think she will ever be comfortable at court, despite your father’s efforts to ease her,” Aiva stated, trying to keep her words light. “It was impressive that he managed to convince her to join us at the festivities when your father jousted against mine. I hear he had a bit of a time getting her to the ball, however.”

  “My mother dislikes crowds,” he nodded. “She has been that way ever since I can remember and I do
ubt that will ever change. I fear she’ll be quite depressed once Calie is married. With her children gone from home and her husband equally married to his work, she will spend most of her days alone. I would visit more frequently, but my path in life has made that difficult.” Idly he picked up a handful of sand, letting the tiny particles sift through his fingers. Thoughtful. “My father shares a similar concern in regards to her frame of mind. He said when Islene married and left Sivaeria with her husband, my mother was distraught for months.”

  Aiva was intrigued at the mention of Islene. At times she tended to forget that Callum had another sister, though significantly older. Married and gone from the care of her parents before Leyna and Thade drew arms against the Ven’shal. Having never seen her in person, the name was like that of a ghost. One rarely spoken by anyone, including her family. “Does Islene not come to visit? Surely she will be in attendance at Calie’s wedding.”

  “She was not in attendance at mine – ” Callum cleared his throat. “Islene moved a long ways from home. On occasion we receive correspondence from her, but to the dismay of my mother and father, she rarely finds her way back to court.”

  Nibbling her lip thoughtfully, Aiva frowned to think of the sadness the General’s wife endured. Detesting the public life of a courtier. Cut off from friends due to her reserved nature while the only family she had was that of her immediate bloodline. “Maybe your mother could have another child,” she shrugged, aware of the sensitive nature of the suggestion. Cadell and Valeska were older than her own parents. Children remained possible for them, though at their age it tended to be more common for a Vor’shai to prepare for grandchildren rather than extend their own line.

  She could see a slight smirk tug at the corner of Callum’s lips. “I am not sure how that would come to be,” he chuckled. “It’s no secret that my birth was unexpected. My father had already accepted the idea of having no more children. And while my father was ecstatic about having a son, my mother desired another daughter. When the King and Queen announced your birth, my mother insisted upon having another child herself. My father would do anything for her, so needless to say, he very willingly complied.”