Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties

by Kellie Doherty

  I feel like I could sleep for nights. Crescents, even. But in an odd way, that thought kept her going. She shouldn’t be this sleepy. Yes, they had just battled the banished crafters and walked back to the village, and they had been on the offensive for a long time now, but Misti knew her body. She knew her limitations, and what they had done certainly hadn’t reached hers. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as the others, but her energy had always remained high no matter what, just like her vulnix. Resilience and endurance were little-known abilities passed through the vulnix bloodline. Vulnix were messengers, they needed those traits to make it through the long flights. So Misti had them, too. She shouldn’t be this low. Not yet. She forced herself to take an extra gulp of water then stumbled outside, hoping whatever Met’zil Zarious decided to do to the pendant would work, and soon.

  Taking a deep breath of crisp night air, she followed Stee to the animal courtyard. She had expected to see only Met’zil Zarious and Dylori waiting for her, so when she noticed the small crowd gathered, surprise rippled through her. Met’zil Zarious and Dylori were there, but so were two other Moon Knights and a villager. The taller thickset one with long brown hair was an Elu Moon crafter named Ithuia, Zarious’ own personal guard. The shorter Moon Knight, a Divus named Markus, had pale skin and wide, pale eyes—the only Divus and thereby the only Blood crafter under Zarious’ command. Historically, the Divus weren’t readily trusted by most since their crafting ability could be seen as eerie to folk who hadn’t met many of them—life-sucking and all—even though most Divus used their Blood crafting to heal. They also traded much more rarely with the Nemora than the other races, and many of them could be standoffish, but Markus had proven himself.

  They stood under a single daygem, its white light burning away the darkness and casting a glow on the large, nearly empty courtyard. The village had been kind enough to supply pails of water and troughs full of grain for their companion animals, a gesture other villages commonly overlooked, but as Misti suspected, the animals had been moved elsewhere. Zarious’ dragon and Dylori’s neades remained. Tuatu perched on his shoulder and Dis was sitting behind Dylori.

  The third person, a village woman, was a stranger to Misti. She wore sturdy leather pants, a complicated shirt with straps that twisted around her body multiple times, and heavy boots. Built like an afternoon shadow, short, thick, and dark. When she gave a small but polite wave, Misti noticed the pale crafting scars on her palms. That, coupled with her small, pointed ears, her striking pale green eyes, and the way her bushy black hair curled around her face, the woman was an Elu for sure. A gleaming rust-colored bow rested on her back, a quiver of arrows on her belt. A hunter of some kind? And a cute one at that.

  Stee joined the others, the six of them now facing Misti. Dylori stepped forward, clad in her armor. She gestured to the woman. “This is Arias Silverstone, an Elu bowyer who graciously gave up her time to help.”

  “Worry not about the time lost,” the woman replied. “And I do many things besides making bows. I work in the foundry as a molder and metalsmith, wood turn for the finer folk in cities, and gather supplies from the seven Groves. Anything that needs doing, I’m your girl.”

  If she talks like that, she must be from the west and a regular dabbler, Misti thought.

  The Groves were called such because in each area, regardless of what resource was created there, one ancient tree stood in the center. They were a remnant of the old race of nymphs who once lived there, now home to the Nemora. Traveling to each of the Groves for supplies would be hard. Hallr in the center of Inber mined stone and was surrounded by the other six. Laidly cared for water, Dara cultivated trees, Wyrtig cared for low and high berry and flower bushes, Ingo dealt with metals, Ratnaa prospected gemstones, and Myceli grew the fungus and medicinal plants. Even with the various offshoots of the Groves, it was a long journey, and respect blossomed in Misti’s stomach at the thought. This dabbler’s tough.

  The woman’s soft voice had a heavy Eluan accent while speaking Aluriahian, the common tongue, making her words string together like a song. “L’roti,” she said, a standard greeting in the Elu tongue. Misti was proud to know it meant hello.

  “My name’s Misti, and I apologize for harming those villagers,” Misti said in a rush.

  The woman tilted her head. “Worry not, Jariis and Amisi recovered after you left. Your commander tells me you meant no harm and I believe him. Stranger things have happened.”

  Misti arched an eyebrow. Stranger than an orb that can suck life-energy? Still, she welcomed the easy acceptance of her apology.

  “We’ve decided to try a few things before resorting to more…drastic measures,” Dylori said, the pause signaling to Misti her friend’s displeasure at whatever the drastic measures were. Dylori scratched her left horn, a nervous trait, and a shiver tickled Misti’s spine. This thing was around her neck. What do they plan to do with it?

  Met’zil Zarious motioned with his hand, and Markus stepped forward. Closer up, she noticed his pale eyes held a hint of brown in them, so light the color was barely visible, and his thin red hair desperately needed a washing. The Blood crafter eyed the pendant and muttered to himself. The muttering and staring went on for a while, long enough for Misti’s skin to break out in goosebumps from the night’s chill. She threw a questioning glance at Dylori, who shrugged.

  After a moment longer, Markus lifted his gaze to hers. “Try not to move. I’m going to touch it.” Misti started to protest, but Markus held up a hand to stop her, his low voice carrying through the courtyard. “I’ve been warned of the dangers, as have we all. But I need to touch it to see what exactly it is. A Blood crafter put it on you, so maybe a Blood crafter can take it off.”

  Misti nodded and stilled, arms tight to her side, locking her knees so they didn’t fold up under her. She knew the danger this orb possessed and didn’t want Markus to get hurt, but touching it seemed like a surefire way of getting injured. Or maybe even killed, as Blood crafters could kill a person if they chose to suck all life-energy from another in order to heal a third or heal themselves. Oh, moon above, what if this orb can actually kill people? Misti stiffened. Please, please don’t hurt anyone else. Please let Markus’ crafting work.

  Markus reached out with trembling fingers and touched the chain hanging loose around her neck, following it down to the white orb. The moment his fingers brushed the orb’s surface, his eyes glowed white. His mouth pulled into a tight line, and a wrinkle formed on his forehead. For a heartbeat, Misti worried that the orb had done something to him—somehow hurt him. But then Markus pulled away, his eyes dimming to their usual color.

  “It’s nothing I’ve ever felt or seen before, but it is dangerous,” he said, sighing, his breath forming a white cloud around them from the cold. “You were right to think it reacts like a Blood crafter would, but I’m not sure how it works, or what it does with the life-energy it takes. Blood crafters use life-energy for themselves and others, healing wounds of the body and mind. But this…this just seems to take energy.”

  “So you know nothing,” Met’zil Zarious said from behind him, frowning.

  Markus turned to him. “This crafting is far beyond my own, but I’ll still attempt to remove it.”

  Misti bit her lip as Markus swiveled back to her, tucking his hair behind his small pointed ears and eyes brightening once more. Anticipation danced on her skin, making it tingle. She wanted it off her, but she was afraid of what might happen. Markus touched the orb again, but this time the glow from his eyes traveled down his neck and shoulder in bright veins, disappearing under his clothes before reappearing again in his hands. Misti held her breath. A moment later, a blinding white light flashed from the pendant, Markus jerked back, and a searing pain tore at Misti’s neck.

  She yelled from the intense flash of heat. Her world tilted. Markus’ face blurred and brightened around the edges, then faded to white completely. Her head hit the ground with such force that pink and yellow stars danced across the white space, and sleep
called to her like an old friend. But then she felt hands on her head, lifting it. Someone grabbed her hand, squeezing, and that pressure kept her awake. Water splashed over her forehead, dribbled down her cheek, ran in rivers down her neck and chest. The white in her vision slowly faded, and Dylori appeared at her side, grasping Misti’s hand in one of her own and pouring water from her flask onto Misti’s face with the other. Worry was clear in her wide eyes and tight jawline.

  Misti blinked the water out of her eyes and allowed Dylori to help her to a seated position. She was shaking like a newborn thunderfawn, and her body ached miserably. Holding her breath, she looked down. The pendant was still pulsing, firmly attached to her skin, its metal chain hanging loose. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away, hoping no one would notice. Markus had said this orb’s crafting was more powerful than his. It had been foolish to hope he could do anything about it.

  “Is Markus all right?” she said, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. It took more effort to speak than normal.

  Dylori pointed to the space behind her. Markus was on the ground, too. Misti’s chest tightened at the sight of Markus’ body, but Dylori was quick to answer, squeezing her hand again in a reassuring way. “He’s fine. Knocked out, but alive. Ithuia’s got it.”

  Kneeling next to Markus’s unconscious form, Ithuia was tending to him much as Dylori had Misti. The gentleness seemed odd from someone as big as Ithuia, but Misti knew it would be best to be easy with Markus. Considering she felt as if a wyvern had stepped on her, Markus probably felt the same. If not worse.

  A shadow fell over them. Met’zil Zarious stared down, a frown set deep on his face, one hand on his hip, the other stroking Tuatu. He opened his mouth to speak. The pendant around her neck beat like a second heart, and Tuatu fell off Zarious’ shoulder. Zarious caught her, his eyes widening, and he backed away. After a moment, Misti realized that his sleet dragon had fallen unconscious. The pendant! Blood crafting had its limits, but somehow deep in her gut, Misti knew no such limitations hindered this orb. Zora. She couldn’t think of anything else. It would affect Zora just like it affected Tuatu.

  The orb throbbed again, this time sending a prickly heat crawling across Misti’s skin. She yelped, but her own pain was forgotten as the others slumped to the ground one by one. Ithuia collapsed next to Markus. Stee, who had been in the process of handing Ithuia an extra flask of water, fell to the dirt.

  Misti turned to shove Dylori away. “Get away from me. Get away! The orb—”

  Dylori’s eyes were already closing, her breathing becoming shallow as she sagged over. Dylori, no! Panic clawed its way back into Misti’s mind, and her breath left her. Torn between wanting to help but afraid of what the orb might do if she got closer, Misti froze like an animal suddenly bathed in torchlight. Snap out of it. Move away! She dug her fingers deep into the dirt and pulled herself away from her friend. Frightened of what the orb was doing, she rose to her feet and darted for the tree line, trying to get as far away as she could. A bright pulse of blue halted her frantic escape, washing over Misti’s back and lightening up the darkness far beyond the daygem’s reach. A Moon crafting glow.

  Misti turned to see Arias with her arms outstretched, glowing cuts slowly winding up her fingers, her face a mask of concentration. A bubble of cobalt light had appeared around the Moon Knights, shielding them. A Moon-crafted shield could protect against a lot of things: elements, arrows, a neades’ earthquake, a wyvern’s flamebreath. Hope fluttered in Misti’s chest, and she sank to her knees in the dirt. Maybe it can protect them against the pendant, too.

  Slowly Dylori stirred awake, cursing and pushing herself upright. A small smile lifted Misti’s lips. The shield worked! After what seemed far too long, the others began to stir as well, groaning as they pushed themselves upright with Dylori’s help. Eventually the little sleet dragon Tuatu woke, yawning in Met’zil Zarious’ arms. Upon seeing the others rise, Arias lowered her hands and the cuts stopped working their way up her fingers, their glow dimming. Misti knew that those slivers would bleed, and even Blood crafting couldn’t help. As powerful and envied as Moon crafting was, the Elu bore a heavy burden. The cuts on their bodies from crafting took a long time to heal, sometimes cycles, and always left scars.

  Arias wiped a sleeve across her eyes and called to Misti, “If you would, please, stay there. This shield won’t last much longer.”

  “It worked, though, right?” Misti yelled back, forcing herself to stand upright in case she needed to get further away, pressing past the exhaustion in her aching body. But Arias was already checking on the others. Dylori had sat down again, arms on her knees, head bowed. Tuatu had curled up on Met’zil Zarious’ shoulder, and Markus, Ithuia, and Stee hadn’t yet risen. It seemed like an eternity before Arias walked closer to the edge of her shield. A few paces away, Misti moved closer to talk more comfortably, but when Arias shook her head, Misti halted. Worry niggled at her. A Moon shield could stop a griffin’s bite and a mizuuchii suncreature’s claws. Surely it could stop this pendant.

  But when the men hadn’t risen and Dylori pressed a hand to her forehead, looking queasy, Misti knew it hadn’t. Arias had a worried crease in her forehead, but it was the slight shake in her fingers that gave her fear away. Fear of Misti or fear of the pendant around her neck, she couldn’t tell. Met’zil Zarious, the only one besides Arias still standing, wore an expression as hard as stone, yet his fingers tapped against his other arm in a rhythmic pattern, a nervous habit of his before the eve of battle. Fear dripped down Misti’s figure, making her shiver.

  Arias met Misti’s gaze first, but when she spoke her voice shook a little. “Have you noticed the pendant affecting others far away from you?” Misti shook her head.

  “How close did they have to be, then?” Arias said in a softer tone.

  Misti tried to piece her scattered thoughts together. Her gaze drifted to Dylori, sitting in the dirt. “Dylori was right next to me, and so were you.” She looked at Met’zil Zarious, trying to judge his expression, but he kept his features smooth save for the frown ever pulling his lips down. “And Tuatu, too. But the others were a few paces away, and when we were walking back from the fight I kept to the back of the group, so the ones in front had to be at least ten paces away, if not more.”

  The shield flickered and dimmed for a moment, and Misti’s rambling stopped. She started to back away, but her attention caught on the sudden movement behind Arias’ shoulder. Dylori’s neades had thundered over to Dylori and settled himself against her back, letting her rest against him. Eyes glowing orange, Dylori patted the large beast, and Misti knew she must be pulling strength from her neades, who had more than enough to spare. Dis huffed and fidgeted while he allowed Dylori’s Animal crafting to take hold.

  “Twenty paces away. That might be the minimum.” Misti pointed at the neades. “Or maybe Dis is immune because he’s so huge? But Tuatu is more powerful than Dis, and she was affected.” She bit her lip, fretting. Zora will be affected.

  “Twenty paces,” Arias muttered.

  Unbelievably, she moved closer to Misti. Misti backed away. Why would she move closer? Is she sunsick? But Arias came closer still. Or testing the pendant’s power? Her shield flashed. It wouldn’t last much longer. Its power was disintegrating before their eyes. Closer now, Misti realized that Arias was young, younger than her by a few seasons. It shocked her that this was the Elu Met’zil Zarious had chosen for this task when she was certain there were other, older Elu in the village.

  “Perhaps that will be useful later on,” Arias said, “but we need to take care of this now. Ithuia, could you help?”

  Nodding, Ithuia rose to his feet and came to stand beside Arias, arching an eyebrow and wincing. “We’re doing a full-body cage?”

  A cage? Fear crashed through Misti, making her breath quicken. She didn’t do well in tight spaces, and a full-body cage sounded terrifying. “I know it’s dangerous, but I could just leave, maybe head to Amiin to see if their crafters could d
o any—”

  “It won’t hurt,” Arias said, her melodic voice smooth even through this chaos. “A cage is a protection we’re going to craft around you. It’s similar to a barrier or a shield. Though usually it helps protect the wearer, I’m hoping it’ll keep whatever this pendant is doing inside.”

  “But I feel this hot pulsing on my skin whenever the orb activates,” Misti said in a rush. I can’t be in a cage. I can’t. “And it wears me out, too. Will the cage protect me against that?”

  A look of sorrow passed through Arias’ pale green eyes. “I’m…not certain. The cage is supposed to protect the wearer from external harm, so there’s a chance that the pendant’s power will be directed fully at you instead.”

  It took a few moments for Arias’ words to sink in, but once they did, Misti’s body broke into a cold sweat. Moon above, will I go into a death sleep while traveling back to Amiin? Or even die tonight? Lacing her finger around the chain, she pulled a little, feeling its tug at her neck and chest. The pulsing was the real danger. It seemed to suck life-energy faster than when the pendant was cold. If only there was a way to tell when that pulsing would happen.

  She shifted uncomfortably under Arias’ sad gaze. The cage sounded terrible. But then Zora’s cheerful yip filled her memory, her bundle of bright fur and feathers, and Misti shook her concerns away. I have to do this, for Zora at the very least. And I can’t keep hurting people, either. I have to try. If putting some cage around her was the only way to protect other people she’d do it. She was just about to say so when Ithuia raised a finger.

  His voice was slow and rambling, though not from the orb’s power. Ithuia had always spoken this way. “Instead of a full-body cage, why don’t we do a localized one centered only around the orb itself? The cage should last for a little while. The metal is fused to her skin, probably by some form of crafting, but if you look closely, the orb isn’t.”