“And then came your turn,” she said.
He nodded. “I was the last one to go. I was sure I was going to faint, or trip and fall, or do something else to humiliate myself. I remembered that this was the moment I'd longed for my whole life. I was determined, for the first time, to carry myself like a man.”
A beatific smile spread over his face, and Vaxi returned it. “When I felt … it, I wasn't sure whether it was Arantha or my own nerves taking over, until the Cavern started to glow as all the tiny crystals that line the walls suddenly came to life. And then there was another light. A light coming from me. From me.”
“That must have been amazing,” she said.
Sen gently enclosed his other hand around hers. “Do you know what a senkoot is?”
She shook her head.
“It's an insect that burrows deep into the hair of farm animals, like gurns and havsu. They attach themselves to the skin near the beast's stomach, and nourish themselves on what they can suck out.”
Vaxi knitted her brow. “What does that have to do with –”
“It's also my name.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Your father named you after a –” She shook her head in disbelief.
“A parasite, yes. That's what I was to him.” A glistening tear slid down his cheek. “But when Master approached me in the Cavern and asked my name, I told him it was Sen. That was what I would be called from that day forward.
“I had a destiny now. I was to become an apprentice to one of the greatest men on all Elystra. I would be educated, and trained,” his voice became breathy, “and I was never going to be that parasite again.”
Vaxi pressed her lips together, slamming her eyes shut to keep her own tears at bay. She and Sen had so much more in common than she could have imagined. Despite her horrible treatment at the hands of her grandmother, at least she'd had friends, people who showed her respect, including the Protectress. Sen had gone through his torments alone.
He shouldn't have had to, she thought. We shouldn't have made him. As children, Ixtrayu are taught to hate men for their cruelty, their arrogance. But we're no better than they are, are we?
Sen continued, “I'm sorry I've been … you know, like this. It's just … knowing what you are,” he cast his eyes to the table again. “I look at you, and all I see is the woman who denied me the happy childhood I could have had.”
Vaxi nodded, withdrawing her hand from his. She rolled up the sleeve of her tunic and raised her right arm, showing off a deep scar that ran horizontally just below her armpit. “Do you see this?”
He nodded. “I saw it when I healed you. You have many scars.”
“Do you know how I got them?”
“Hunting?”
“Some of them, yes. The rest, including all the ones you didn't see, were given to me by my grandmother.”
His eyes widened.
Vaxi told him how her mother had died when she was only five years old, and how Susarra had asked Kelia, her mother's companion, to give her the right to raise Vaxi herself. Kelia, having just birthed a daughter of her own and having recently taken over as Protectress, agreed. So, on top of losing her mother, she spent the next twelve years having her self-esteem ground into dust.
“May I ask you something?” he said.
“Go ahead.”
“You said your grandmother sent you to Darad to,” his face reddened, “to get pregnant, is that right?”
“It is.”
“Is that … is that still your plan?”
She thought for a few moments, then shook her head. “It was never my plan. I thought it was Arantha's plan. I now know that was only a convenient lie to tell myself. Who knows, maybe Arantha put the idea in my head to get me away from her. Now, I am convinced that my path, for the moment anyway, seems to lie with Mizar.” She smiled warmly at him. “And you.”
His lips curled into the most adorable smile she'd ever seen on a person, complete with dimples. “I will do whatever I can to help you along that path,” he said.
“Thank you, Sen.” She returned her attention to her meal, which she'd nearly finished. She tore a hunk off another bread roll, dunked it in her lukewarm soup and popped it in her mouth.
“There is one other thing I'd like to ask, if I may,” he said.
“Anything.”
“What's her name? My mother?”
Her heart jumped into her throat, and she shuffled her feet in indecision.
Before she could answer, however, a preteen boy rushed into the dining room, grabbed Sen's arm and motioned for him to follow. “Please! Come quick! The High Mage needs you!”
Sen immediately grabbed his satchel and rushed out the inn's door. Vaxi, not wanting to be alone, followed.
The boy led them down the street, where a thin haze obscured her vision and the smell of burnt wood choked the air. As they neared what Vaxi assumed was the tavern, she could see that one entire side of the building had been burned away. Scorch marks and ash littered what was left of the walls and furniture.
Vaxi saw Mizar waving at them from up the street, where a sobbing woman held an unconscious boy of no more than five in her arms, his face blackened with soot and several ugly blisters on his chest. What remained of his shirt lay in tatters on the ground nearby.
Sen sprinted to the boy's side. He reached into his satchel, produced a pair of large green leaves, and squeezed them between his palms. Closing his eyes, he then laid his hands on the boy's chest.
Vaxi, along with the rest of the crowd, watched in awed silence as the healing power of Arantha flowed through Sen and into the unconscious youth. After several tense moments, during which the entire crowd held its breath, the boy coughed, and his eyes fluttered open. The pure joy on the mother's face as she clutched the boy to her chest, staring with adoration at the young man who had saved him, was something Vaxi knew she would never forget.
She began to clap. Others joined in. Before long, Mizar had to pull Sen to his feet to face the cheering mass of onlookers that, on this night, realized just what a special person the High Mage's apprentice was.
* * *
Sen treated five other people for minor burns, making sure to leave no one out, before packing up his satchel and walking, rather unsteadily, back to the inn. Several people, older women mostly, detached themselves from the crowd to convey their thanks or give him hugs. Through it all, he just smiled and nodded.
After climbing the stairs to their rooms, Mizar gave Sen a proud, paternal pat on the back before telling him and Vaxi to get some rest, as they would be resuming their journey to Dar early the next morning.
As their rooms were right across from each other, Vaxi decided to escort Sen until she could get him inside. After passing through the doorway, he flung his satchel onto the chair and exhaled.
He turned to see Vaxi's face scrunched up with worry. “I know I must look horrible, but I'll be fine. I'm just tired,” he said.
“It's not that.” She took a tentative step toward him.
“What, then?”
Her lip trembled. “Are we really going to the castle tomorrow?”
He nodded.
“Am I going to meet the King?”
He shrugged. “You might.”
“How frightened should I be?”
He put his hands on her arms. “King Aridor is a great man. His is the voice of justice and reason.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Not everyone's in the castle's is, that's for sure … but his is the only one that matters.”
“This world … it's so big,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “I feel so lost in it …”
“Hey,” Sen said reassuringly. “You have my Master, and you have me. We'll keep you safe. I will do all I can to help you. You have my word.”
Suddenly overcome by anxiety and homesickness, she stepped into him, folding her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his shoulder. Her stomach fluttered as he returned the embrace.
For the first time in her life, she was in
the arms of a man.
A strange warmth pulsed through her body, causing her heart to race. She felt her sensitivity to her surroundings heighten, and her uncertainty and doubt inexplicably lessen. In this moment, she felt a happiness, a contentment previously unknown to her. She did not want to let go. Despite the smell of smoke and sweat suffusing his clothes, she clung to him like her very soul depended on it.
She moved her eyes to meet his, and an eternity passed between them.
When her grandmother described for her the process of impregnation, she winced as she imagined it happening to her. It sounded awful, painful, yet another torture she had to endure in her young life. The idea of a man pawing at her naked body with his clumsy, grubby hands, smiling vacantly as he penetrated her, turned her stomach. Every Ixtrayu in history had had to endure such debasement, Susarra told her; a necessary evil to ensure the tribe's survival. Sacrificing her body for the greater good. A means to an end. Men were not capable of love, or intimacy, or tenderness.
All lies.
In the last few days, she had encountered evil men. But she'd also discovered men of wisdom, artistry, and compassion. She'd met a boy who made her feel … she couldn't even describe the feeling. She had nothing to compare it to. A warm, soft, crawly feeling in the pit of her stomach, like a tiny animal awakening from a long sleep.
There was no pain, only a pleasant numbness spreading through her. And she was enjoying it. Oh, yes, she was enjoying it. Pressed up against him, she found herself trembling. She was startled to realize Sen's body was trembling as well.
Her self-induced trance was broken when Sen released her, cleared his throat, and took a step back. It looked as if all the blood in his body had gone straight to his cheeks. “Um, I guess we'd better …”
“Get some sleep,” she finished, nodding three times before turning toward the door. “Yes. Sleep. We need sleep. Sleep is good.”
The rush of blood to her own cheeks made her wobble as she stepped through the door. She was just about to close it behind her when she faced him again. “Sen?”
“Yes?”
She gave him her warmest smile. “It's Lyala.”
“What is?”
“Your mother's name … it's Lyala. She's kind, like you. And she's a healer, like you. So is your sister.”
His eyes nearly doubled in size. “Sister?”
“Yes. Her name is Sershi.”
His breath hitched, and his hands shot up to cover his face. He closed his eyes briefly and turned away. After a few deep exhales, he dropped his hands and whispered, “Thank you, Vaxi.”
“Sleep soundly, Sen,” she said as she closed the door.
Chapter Eleven
From atop a commanding hill overlooking a broad flat area just north of the village, Kelia beheld the sea of Ixtrayu faces looking curiously up at her. Over two hundred of her sisters, whom she'd yet to inform about all the recent strange goings-on, had gathered to hear her speak.
The Council, draped in their ceremonial white robes, flanked her on one side while Maeve and Davin stood directly behind her. Maeve was clad in the same simple black sleeveless top and brown pants she wore on the day they met. Several of her intricate bird tattoos shone in the morning sun against her pale skin, and her brilliant purple hair looked majestic as it blew in the light breeze. Davin, wearing the white shirt and dark blue pants he had arrived in, looked more nervous than Kelia had ever seen him.
She'd spent the morning carefully preparing the speech she would give her people. She had not addressed them as a group since Susarra was removed from the Council and confined to her home. She'd allayed their fears that Vaxi would not be welcomed back should she return, and that a successful birth would be a sign that Arantha wanted the Sojourns to resume.
And then, mere hours later, Davin materialized out of nowhere, carrying an unconscious Maeve in his arms. Visitors from the Above, there for all the tribe to see.
It had been difficult to gauge her sisters' temperaments since that moment, but thus far they had obeyed her commands and let their visitors be. However, she could not keep her people in the dark any longer about the amazing, inexplicable chain of events that Arantha had set in motion, nor the danger that lay ahead.
It took several tense hours' deliberation between her and the Council, but they finally decided the tribe had to be informed about what had happened and, more important, what was going to happen.
Kelia stepped forward, raising her arms and calling for quiet, then she laid out the entire story. She explained the vision that had sent her to the western outcropping where she saw Maeve's spaceship land, and then proceeded with her journey to the Kaberian Mountains, her meeting with Maeve, their subsequent Sharing, and the discovery of a second Stone. This part was met with mute shock. When Kelia announced that the Stone also gave Maeve the power to Wield, the assembled Ixtrayu erupted into chaos.
Kelia held up her hands to calm the crowd, but to no avail. Their voices combined into a terrible clamor, and she wondered if a full-scale riot was imminent.
She locked eyes with Maeve, who nodded. They had anticipated this reaction, and they had the perfect remedy.
With her eyes closed, Kelia held her arms in front of her, pointing them skyward. Her Wielding manifested as flames shot forth from her fingertips, creating a string of fire that rose into the sky with a whoosh and a crackle that rent the air. A moment later, Maeve raised her hands, holding them palms-forward in Kelia's direction.
The plume of fire grew in size, length, and intensity, combining into a gigantic fireball that threatened to set the Above ablaze. All in the crowd had to shield their faces from the searing heat that emanated from the conflagration but, as quickly as it came, the fire was snuffed out.
Struck dumb by this magnified display of Wielding, the crowd's combined voice subsided to a gentle murmur, and then silence reigned once again.
“My sisters! Please! I will not have this gathering disrupted in such a manner again!” Kelia gestured to Maeve to join her front and center. “This woman, though she is not of our world, has the heart of an Ixtrayu. I have seen it. Through our Sharing, we have discovered remarkable things. Not only can she, and her son,” she pointed at Davin, who blushed at the attention, “understand our language, but as you just saw, she can augment the power of any other Wielder. She has not come as an enemy but as an ally. She was sent by Arantha herself, and they shall both be treated as her emissaries.”
Kelia placed a hand on Maeve's shoulder, and they exchanged nods. Maeve took over, her colorful, delightfully incongruous accent ringing out.
“I am Major Maeve Cromack. I come from Earth, a world so distant you cannot see its sun in your night sky. I know I look different from you, and you have no reason to trust me or my son.” She caught Davin out the corner of her eyes endeavoring to look as small as possible under the scrutiny of so many women. Striking a conciliatory tone, she continued, “Many centuries ago, my people lived as you do now. But over the years, our desire to learn and grow brought us technology and a greater understanding of what lay beyond our world. We conquered disease and hunger, and in time, we learned how to travel from one end of the Above to the other.”
A haggard look played over her face. “And then … we were invaded. A more powerful race came and stole our world from under us.”
Kelia looked over the faces of her people, who seemed to have lost their earlier fervor. This day would go down in Ixtrayu history, of that she had no doubt.
“My son and I came here to save our world,” Maeve continued. “But it would appear that Arantha had other plans for us.”
Several Ixtrayu wore wary expressions, but no one responded. Maeve seemed to be winning them over.
“Though I am not of Elystra, I have come to feel its beating heart inside me. When I felt my soul drifting into despair, the energy the Stone gave me, the energy that courses through my veins, anchored me to this world. Were it not for Kelia's wisdom and compassion, I would not have found that cente
r.”
Maeve flashed a gracious smile at Kelia, who returned it. Facing the crowd again, Kelia resumed speaking. “Since the beginning, the path Arantha put us on has remained unchanged—to stay hidden, far away from those who would destroy us.” She cast a sidelong glance at Maeve. “Very recently, I was asked: how long can it last? How long can the Ixtrayu remain, in this one place, before we are discovered? All it would take is one scout, one soldier, one bandit or raider to spread the word of our existence to all of Elystra. What would we do if the armies of men came for us?”
“You would destroy them, Protectress!” came a voice from the crowd. “No mere soldier could stand against you!” A babble of words rose up in agreement.
Kelia raised her hands in a silencing gesture. “If an army came to destroy us, I would bring every ounce of power I had to bear on them. But our enemies could number in the thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. There are but two hundred of us. We have been content to live in secret since the beginning. If that no longer becomes possible, then is war to the death our only option? How many men would I, would we, have to kill before they declare us victorious? Would they respect us as a people, or would they come at us until we were all annihilated? How many Ixtrayu would die to achieve that victory, if it even were possible? Is it worth the loss of so much life just to protect our own?”
Kelia bowed her head. Her next words were at a much lower volume, but they seemed to carry all the way to the horizon. “To invite war is to invite our own extinction. I have seen it.”
Several voices rose up in protest. “What are you saying, Protectress?” said the loudest.
Kelia felt a grim resolve creep through her as she laid her soul bare. “I have had several visions since my return. Arantha has shown me the future of the Ixtrayu.”
Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2) Page 8