The Druids' Legacy
Page 13
Ky'ara smiled to herself. Apparently the rumors were true. She wondered briefly what Joran would think about his sister being in a relationship with Geri, of all people. Then she looked back down at his unconscious form, and her thoughts sobered. If he didn't recover, there would never be a chance to find out.
* * * * *
Calistra found herself clenching Geri's hand tighter as the healer described what had happened and how to treat it. Blood buildup in the brain was the likely cause of the seizure. They could use magic to carefully release some of the pressure, but if they took too much he might not have enough fluid to cushion his brain, and a fall or bump on the head would do permanent damage to it. It was also possible that something else had caused the seizure, and if they drained the fluid and he still had another one, his brain would be rattled around in his head with nothing to protect it.
"Do what you think is best," Calistra whispered, trying to sort through all the emotions that welled up inside her at the sight of Geri's ashen face. The healer nodded, and moved to cradle his head between her hands. She gave Ky'ara instructions and the girl hurried to obey. Calistra tuned them out, feeling more anxious than she had during the siege of Ainon Caseia. She couldn't lose him...She just couldn't. She'd taken his presence for granted for so long...even viewed his flippant attitude with irritation and sometimes wondered what had possessed her to approve making someone so immature a captain. But...he made her laugh when she was on the brink of losing hope, he helped her see clearly when her own biases were clouding her judgement, and he kept her sane when everything was out of her control. She needed him, and suddenly it didn't seem to matter whether the townspeople accepted the organization’s rule or the Shaari got along with everyone else. They could all be left to burn....as long as Geri survived.
A cold hand on top of hers startled her out of her thoughts. Ky'ara was looking at her with pity. "It'll be ok. He wouldn't want you to worry about him."
Calistra felt a touch of hysteria bubble up, and she snorted, "Of course he would! He loves being the center of attention!"
Ky'ara smiled, "I suppose.—"
Just then Geri stirred. Calistra leaned in.
"Geri? Can you hear me? Are you ok?"
He opened his eyes and struggled to focus on her face. "What—-what happened?"
"You had a seizure," the healer said brusquely, "I think we've taken care of the problem, but we need to monitor you more closely for the next few days."
Geri groaned. "Here I was thinking I was going to be a free man sometime soon…” he frowned suddenly, “...ow."
"What's wrong?" Calistra asked, panic tinging her voice.
"My hand...I'm going to want to use that again, do you think you could loosen your grip just a bit?"
Calistra dropped his hand like it was a hot coal. Geri smiled wanly. "Thanks."
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak past the lump in her throat.
A little later she and Ky'ara left the tent together. Geri was sleeping again and Julaine had sent them away so they wouldn't disturb him.
Outside the tent, the rest of the camp carried on like normal, and the realization of how much she would sacrifice for one man's life suddenly made Calistra feel ashamed. They had a purpose here, and it went beyond all the petty problems that sucked her energy and tried to dominate her attention. It was time to start planning. She turned to Ky'ara. "Find Taren and my brother and meet me in the command tent, we need to talk."
Ky'ara looked a little startled, but she nodded and hurried off towards the perimeter.
* * * * *
A little later they all convened in the command tent. Taren and Joran were both sweating from exertion, evidently having been interrupted during a training exercise. Calistra murmured a small spell and sent a cooling breeze through the enclosed space, relieving a little of their discomfort. Joran nodded to her in thanks and sat down on the stool across from her desk.
“What’s on your mind, sis?” he asked with exaggerated interest.
Calistra rolled her eyes at him and he grinned. She turned towards the others and took a breath, centering her thoughts. "We're starting to make headway with the next villages we have to get past," she said, "We're still months away from the capital, but I think we all know this invasion is not going to be the means by which the real war is won."
Ky'ara and the others nodded. Calistra drummed her fingers impatiently. "I want to do more, if I can. Just gaining ground is taking too long and costing us too much." She turned to Ky'ara, "I need to know what your plans are for defeating the Destroyer."
Ky'ara looked startled. "I don't know."
Calistra raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, you don't know? You've had weeks to figure out what to do next."
"I’ve been busy helping you!" Ky'ara said defensively. Calistra paced across the tent, stabbing her finger toward the map.
"This is where we are Ky'ara. This is where the capital is. All these people?” She indicated the land between the two places. “They're going to fight us every step of the way. We can try to convince them to join us, but that's going to be bloody hard to do if we don't have a plan for defeating the Destroyer!"
"What do you expect me to do?" Ky'ara replied, taken aback by the anger in Calistra's voice.
"I expected you to have answers!" Calistra said, "I devoted all our resources to this campaign based on the fact that you were going to Eléirathös to figure out how to win!"
“Whoa, guys calm—” Joran tried to step in.
"I'm sorry. I don't know! That's not my fault!" Ky'ara said angrily.
"That's not exactly true," Taren murmured under his breath, shooting Ky'ara a knowing look. She turned on him, eyes wide, and shook her head. Joran looked between the two of them. He hadn’t been part of the meeting with Arys, and apparently they hadn’t told him something.
"What?" Calistra asked, catching the exchange and looking at Taren hopefully, "What isn't she telling me?"
Taren gave Ky’ara a tortured look, then turned back to Calistra. "Arys did tell her how to prevent the Destroyer from transitioning so soon."
"And I told her that was never going to happen," Ky'ara said tersely.
Calistra gave her a puzzled look, "What? What's so bad that the fate of the world isn't worth it?"
Ky'ara stubbornly set her jaw and returned Calistra's gaze coolly.
"The queen's unborn child is apparently a suitable host," Taren explained, "That's where the six-month timeframe comes from. The trauma of childbirth can provide a window for the darkness to transition. But if we kill the queen before she can have the baby, or find a way to kill the baby before it's born, we can stop the transition from occurring."
Shocked silence followed his statement. Joran let out a low whistle.
"You see?" Ky'ara whispered, "It’s unacceptable. And it’s only a delaying tactic. Sooner or later another suitable host will appear.”
“But it will buy us time?” Calistra asked, looking to Taren for confirmation. He nodded grimly. She sighed. “I agree that it shouldn’t be our first strategy, Ky’ara, but I think we have to at least—.”
“No.”
“Ky’ara—” Taren started.
“No! I can’t believe you told her that! I don’t see how either of you can even think about doing such a thing!” She jerked the tent flap open and left. Taren glanced at Calistra apologetically and then followed Ky'ara out.
Joran turned to his sister. "And you thought I needed to work on my diplomacy skills?"
She shot him an angry look, not amused in the slightest. “You agree with her then?”
Joran hesitated. “I don’t know. But she feels very strongly about this, Cal. I don’t think any amount of logic is going to change her mind.”
Calistra nodded curtly. “I see.”
Joran stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure whether to stay or go. He couldn’t seem to do anything right lately.
“Unless you have something else to say, please get out. I have work
to do,” Calistra said irritably. Joran nodded and left hurriedly, the tent flap snagging on the post on his way out. Calistra sighed in frustration and walked over to the door, yanking the cloth into place and securing it. She stood there fuming for a moment, frustrated with Ky’ara for rejecting out of hand the only solution they had come across so far, and frustrated with herself for considering it. She struck the tent post and then sank to her knees, shaking with sobs as the weight of it all overwhelmed her.
* * * * *
Taren found Ky’ara standing alone by the edge of the camp. Her face darkened when she saw him approach.
“I didn’t come to argue with you,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
Ky’ara turned away, her defensive stance melting into one of vulnerability. “I can’t do it, Taren,” she whispered.
“Even if it means the lives of countless innocents?” Taren asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. He had promised not to argue, after all.
Ky’ara shook her head, eyes downcast.
They stood awkwardly for a moment. Taren waited, unsure whether she’d forgiven him enough to let him comfort her. Just as the silence began to grow unbearable, Ky’ara spoke.
“My parents couldn’t have children, you know. At least, not for a long time. It was the one thing my mom did ‘right’ in the eyes of society: ‘At least she won’t breed any mongrel children.’ ” Ky’ara’s fists clenched involuntarily, the old insult still painful. “Then I came along, and to them I was a miracle. To everyone else I was a mistake. A flaw. A blight on the Lafeno name.”
Taren saw where she was going with this. “To them, you shouldn’t have been born.”
Ky'ara turned to him, eyes pleading for him to understand.
“What if Arys is wrong? How could I possibly live with myself? Is that selfish, to risk the fate of the world so that I can feel good about my decisions?”
Taren shook his head silently, pulling her to him and wishing he could say something to take the pain out of her voice. He didn’t have the answers she was looking for. His instincts said to put the mission ahead of anything else, but Ky’ara wasn’t a soldier, she didn’t think that way. And to be honest with himself, he didn’t really want her to think that way. So he stayed silent and just held her.
She leaned into him for a moment, then sighed and pulled away.
“...so, what now?” Taren asked, hoping that by focusing on what she could do, Ky’ara would find her way towards the right solution.
Ky’ara shrugged. “I need to learn as much as I can about the Destroyer, and the crystal. I wish I’d had more time in Eléirathös...but then, Arys told me even the druids had no idea how to defeat the Destroyer. They spent hundreds of years studying, and I’m supposed to solve it in six months!”
“Yes, but you have something they never did,” Taren said quietly.
Ky’ara arched an eyebrow.
“You.”
She snorted. “That’s supposed to help me how, exactly?
“Because you are the one the crystal chose. You are the one that I was drawn to after Arys’s spell. You are meant for this, Ky’ara, and I’ve seen you—you find ways through and over and around when no one else thinks it’s possible. You’re amazing! You will find a way, I know you will, it just takes a little faith.”
Ky’ara was quiet and instantly Taren wished he’d chosen a different word. It was easy for him to forget that she’d been raised in a very different society. Here it was all facts and rules and structure. You either knew something or you didn’t. There was no room for belief.
“Thank you.” Ky’ara’s soft answer drew him from his thoughts. His face must have betrayed his surprise, because Ky’ara smiled at him wryly before slipping her hand into his and leaning her head against his arm wearily.
“Everyone expects me to save the world, but somehow from you that expectation feels more like encouragement and less like a burden of responsibility.”
Taren breathed in the scent of her closeness and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Being here with her felt so...right. Despite their differences, he knew that whatever else happened, as long as he was with her, everything would work out in the end. He could only hope his presence did the same for her.
Chapter 9: Frantic Search
Ky’ara jolted awake, the darkness of the tent momentarily disorienting her. The last few days had passed without incident, her previous outburst going unmentioned by the others. Nothing was resolved, but somehow talking it out with Taren had helped her come to terms with not knowing what to do.
She sat up groggily, wondering what had woken her. Distant shouting drew her attention just as the thudding of the alarm drums started. Quickly she pulled on her boots and buckled on her sword before running out into the night.
“Joran?”
“I’m up.” Even through their link he sounded tired.
“Any idea what’s going on?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Ky’ara nodded a greeting as he joined her in person. “You know the signals better than I do—is that a “run for cover” or “help needed at the perimeter?”
“Neither... it's just an alert. An army is approaching. Must be pretty far off though, or I think they'd be calling all troops.”
"So what do we do?" Ky'ara asked, her feelings a mixture between irritation at being woken and worry over what was to come.
Joran shrugged. "I just got off my shift on the perimeter and was about to catch some sleep when they started up. I can go back there and see what they know, or we can head over to the command tent and see if Calistra needs us."
Ky'ara wavered. She'd stayed out of Calistra's way as much as possible since their argument—not an easy feat since Joran's sister had been spending a lot of time in the medical tent with Geri. "Where's Taren?" she asked, delaying her decision for an extra moment.
Joran frowned. "I think he had a shift right after mine. I don't know for certain though. He doesn't tell me where he's going all the time."
Ky'ara felt a little ball of worry form in her chest. "Let's head to the perimeter then," she said, making up her mind.
Joran gave her an ironic look. "You realize you're going to have to face her again, right? She's kinda the one in charge here."
Ky'ara pushed him in the right direction to start him walking. "I'm not avoiding her, I'd just rather find Taren first."
"You know you can't lie to me, right?" Joran said, quirking the corner of his mouth up in a half-smile.
She ignored him and hurried through the space between tents. More people were awake now, most of them seeming to better understand how to respond to the drum signal. Everywhere she looked, people were either gearing up for battle or helping others to do so. No one made any efforts to move away from where they'd slept, however. Right now they were simply preparing.
By the time Ky'ara and Joran made it to the perimeter of camp, the drum signal had changed, increasing in tempo and repeating in a loop every thirty seconds or so. She didn't have to see the grim look on Joran's face to know that that was a bad thing. They ran up to the nearest scout and Joran grasped the soldier’s forearm in greeting. "What's going on out there, Ben?"
"Word is, an army attacked the town just out yonder," he jerked his head to indicate the direction, "Everyone but the homeguard are mobilizing and heading out."
Joran frowned. "They attacked the town? Why on earth would the King attack his own people when we're sitting right here? It sounds like they're trying to draw us out so the camp is unprotected."
Ben nodded. "That's why the homeguard is staying here...I don't know what else your sister has cooked up, but she was talking to the captains not long ago. I'd venture she came to the same conclusion."
Joran thanked him and he and Ky'ara headed down the line towards the scout's command tent. Along the way they inquired about Taren, finally finding someone who remembered seeing him head out with the advance unit.
Ky'ara's anxiety grew a little more.
Taren would be in the middle of a battle without her to watch his back. What if no one else knew he wasn't the same untouchable warrior they remembered? She buried her concern and focused on what she was going to do to help. He would be fine. It's not as though they were fighting trolls...even without his Keeping abilities, Taren was easily a match for a well-trained soldier or two.
They got to the command tent and found Calistra had already moved to another location to prepare the camp to receive refugees from the village. Mathan, the captain on duty, listened soberly to Joran's evaluation, and nodded.
"I expect that's why your sister ordered the foreigners to stay put. If the King has something tricky up his sleeve, he's not going to have an easy time taking the camp with a couple hundred Shaari around it...they've got their beasts in the air too I expect, so we'll have plenty of warning if anything else is headed our way."
Joran breathed a sigh of relief, while Ky'ara kept looking in the direction of the town, worry gnawing at her stomach. Joran looked over at her and rolled his eyes. "You're not going to be happy unless we go out there too, are you?"
"I just—" she started to protest.
"It's fine," Joran said with an edge on his voice, "I'd like crack at some of those soldiers anyways."
They left a note for Calistra with the captain, in case she needed them for anything later, and headed out with the third unit deploying to the village. It didn't take long before they could see the glow of fire off in the distance. Ky'ara felt a surge of fear and anger come over the Link. She looked at Joran, remembering his story about what had happened to his home as a child, after his sister's refusal to enter the service of the princess. This type of destruction likely raised some ugly memories for him.
"Keep a level head," she cautioned him, "The last thing Calistra needs is for her brother to get killed in a petty skirmish"
"You're one to talk," he scoffed, "I can feel you getting all panicky about Taren you know...what do you think he's going to do to me if anything happens to you out here?"
Ky'ara didn't answer. The sky to the east had finally lightened enough to reveal the village they were headed for, and she was struck by the sight of it. An ugly black cloud rose above the cluster of houses, the smoke mixing with the dim light to create a scene that reminded Ky'ara strongly of her foray into Death. People were fleeing into the countryside, most of them headed vaguely toward the rebel camp. The two units ahead of them must've spread the word that the organization would offer refuge to anyone fleeing the King's soldiers.