“I-I must confer with the Council,” Eloni said. “Excuse me.” She exited the cave without another word.
Maeve took Kelia by the arm and guided her toward the entrance. “Look, I know things seem bleak, but there are plenty of ways we can prepare for this. Nothing is hopeless.”
Kelia had recovered her voice. “Agreed.”
“I have some ideas about how to defend the village,” Maeve said. “I would like to speak with the huntresses in the tribe, not to mention the other Wielders, to form some kind of strategy. Davin might be able to help in that regard as well.”
Kelia nodded as they stepped from the cave. Davin, Runa, and Sarja awaited them just outside the entrance.
“Mom, are you all right?” Davin asked, his face lined with concern.
“I'm okay, kiddo. I'll explain everything later.”
Runa stepped forward. “Protectress, is there anything I can do?”
“Assemble the huntresses on the archery range,” Kelia said. “Maeve and I will join you there in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Protectress.” Runa bowed, and then crossed the bridge to the western bank. She soon disappeared from sight.
Maeve looked at Davin. “Dav, I'm going to be rather busy for the rest of the day. Will you be all right?”
Davin indicated the young girl standing next to him. “I'll be fine, Mom. Sarja has offered to show me around the village.”
Sarja smiled, blushing slightly. “If that is all right with you.”
Maeve looked back and forth between them. For the first time in years, her son would be spending time with a girl his own age.
She sighed. On top of everything else she had to deal with now …
“It's fine,” she said, giving them her best fake smile. “Just don't go far. Meet you in the dining area later for lunch?”
“Okay.” Davin glanced at Sarja, who smiled back, before turning back to his mother. “See you later.”
With Sarja leading the way, the two of them walked out the village's southern entrance. Kelia watched them go with a bemused smile.
Moments after they disappeared from sight, she heard cries coming from the other direction. “Protectress! Protectress!”
Sershi, her long brown hair billowing behind her, sprinted down the path and across the bridge, slamming to a halt in front of Maeve, Kelia and Lyala. She doubled over, gasping for air.
“Duma!” Lyala said. “What is the meaning of this? You're not supposed to leave Nyla alone!” She turned to Kelia. “I'm sorry, Protectress, I told her not to leave the Room of Healing under any circumstances.”
“It's all right,” Kelia said, putting a hand on Lyala's shoulder. “Sershi, what is it?”
Sershi, still catching her breath, looked up at Kelia. Maeve saw a faint smile on the young healer's face. “It's Nyla, Protectress. She's awake.”
Chapter Fifteen
The first thing Nyla noticed was the heat. Sweat poured down her face, as if she had been out in the sun all day. Except there was no bright light above her. So where was the heat coming from?
She stared up at the ceiling, and at the small lantern that hung from it, not directly above her but just to her left. There was another off to her right. Candles burned within them, but they certainly couldn't be the cause of all this heat.
She realized she was lying on the ground, on a bed of lyrax pelts, some of which covered her from the chest down. Her arms were held straight out from her body, palms up. A faint whoosh sound filled her ears, and a whiff of smoke assailed her nostrils.
When she turned her head to look at her right hand, a gasp escaped her lips. A ball of fire, about the same size as her head, hovered above her palm. To her left, a similar fireball danced and flickered above her other hand.
Closing her eyes, she withdrew into her mind, finding her focus. The Wielding ability that grew inside her, which often threatened to burst forth at the slightest whim, was hers to control. She wasn't that frightened little girl who almost burned her mother's hair off the first time her powers manifested. She could control it. She would control it.
After several moments of deep concentration, she opened her eyes again, and was relieved to find that the fireballs had dissipated, as had the odor of smoke. She sat up, scanning the room, and said a prayer of thanks that she hadn't set anything ablaze. The fire wouldn't have burned her, but she could so easily have set fire to her own clothes or the pelts that covered her.
She was in the Room of Healing. And she was alone.
What was she doing there?
She gasped as her memories came flooding back.
The Stone. She'd touched the Stone, after her mother had forbidden her to do so.
Kelia's ability to interpret Arantha's visions had always been somewhat lacking, a shortcoming Arantha made up for by giving Kelia exceptional control over her elemental powers. She'd told Nyla that she could be even more powerful with the proper training, and Nyla assumed her divinatory ability could be just as great. With the Ixtrayu fractured by Susarra's sedition and Vaxi going on Sojourn, her mother became distraught. Her visions had told her nothing that would help her resolve the conflict within the tribe, so Nyla decided to take it upon herself to help.
She remembered touching the Stone, and images flashing through her mind like a stampede of chavas. As hard as she tried to recall them, many had dissolved into a foggy blur. Several images, however, she did remember clearly.
Very clearly.
“Mom?” she tried to call before realizing her throat was as dry as parchment. Her words came out as a raspy croak. She looked around to find that a half-full cup of water had been placed near where her head had rested. She snatched it up and poured the contents into her mouth, ignoring the warmness no doubt caused by her pyrotechnic display.
Wiping a few stray drops from her chin with her sleeve, she called out again. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Moments later, Sershi's oval face, framed by her long, straight, light brown hair, appeared in the doorway. “Nyla!” she shouted, rushing to Nyla's side. “You're awake! Thank Arantha!” She knelt down, placing her palms on Nyla's cheeks and staring deep into her eyes. “Are you all right? How are you feeling? We were so worried.”
Nyla quirked an eyebrow at her. She had always known Sershi to be very staid, rarely giving anything but superficial emotional reactions. She'd never seen the young healer this animated before.
“How … how long was I asleep?” Nyla asked, concerned.
Sershi, having completed her cursory examination, removed her hands, but her fretful stare remained. “Two and a half days.”
Nyla's jaw dropped, and she felt her guts rumble. She instinctively rubbed her aching stomach as she echoed, “Two and a half days?”
“Yes. The Protectress has been by your side almost every minute since.” Sershi smiled. “So has Sarja.”
A tear formed at the corner of Nyla's eye. What had she done? She'd been foolish to touch the Stone. She was totally unprepared for the experience. She could have died, and she'd scared her mother, her Promised, and everyone else half to death in the process. “Where's my mother?” Nyla asked as the tear rolled town her cheek.
Sershi used her sleeve to wipe away the tear and moved several strands of hair away from Nyla's face. She lovingly cupped Nyla's cheek and smiled again. “Wait right here. I'll go get her. Don't try to stand yet, all right?”
“I won't,” she replied, and Sershi ran from the room.
Alone once again, she attempted to sit up straighter. She had on the same sleep-robe she was wearing when she stole out of Sarja's room three nights before.
Two and a half days. She tried to wrap her head around that. Her mother once told her that when she was Nyla's age, her first contact with the Stone had put her to sleep for almost the same period of time.
Nyla said a short prayer of thanks to Arantha for not punishing her foolhardiness more. Her life had been spared, and she hoped the information she had gleaned from her vision would be
useful to her mother, the Council, and the entire tribe.
A few minutes later, Sershi returned. Right behind her was Kelia, who practically threw herself into Nyla's arms, clutching her to her chest as they embraced. And that's when the tears began to flow in earnest.
“I'm sorry, mama,” Nyla cried into her mother's shoulder. “I'm so sorry. I was just trying to –”
“Shhh, duma, shhh,” Kelia whispered in her ear, sobbing as well. “You're all right. Thank Arantha you're all right.”
Safe in her mother's arms, she whispered back, “I've already done that.”
She heard Kelia chuckle, followed by a kiss on her cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry,” Nyla replied. “Very hungry.”
Kelia stroked her daughter's face. “That's not surprising. You've had nothing but water and mashed riverfruit for the last two days. Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
She took hold of her mother's arm, and with Kelia's help was able to stagger to her feet. Her legs felt numb, but that receded with each passing second. She shot a glance at the door when she noticed two others had entered the Room of Healing. One was Lyala, who looked upon her with relief, and the other was …
She gasped.
The strange woman from her vision.
There was no doubt about it. There she stood, with her pale skin, her hair and eyes a vibrant purple, and with those strange bird designs emblazoned on her arms and chest. Her clothes were unlike any she'd ever seen, as they were not robes or a tunic. Rather, she wore pants, the kind she'd heard men wore, and a black sleeveless shirt that exposed well-muscled arms. She, too, looked upon Nyla with a maternal smile.
“You,” Nyla whispered, staring straight at her.
Kelia glanced back at Maeve, whose eyes widened at Nyla's recognition, then back at her. “You … saw her?”
“Yes.” Nyla couldn't stop staring at the woman. She resembled an Elystran woman in so many ways: she had the correct number of arms, legs, eyes, ears and—Nyla assumed—breasts. But there was something else, the way she stood, the way she dressed, that made her different. “I saw her in a vision.”
Kelia waved the woman forward. “Duma, this is Maeve. She's a friend. She's from … very far away.”
“From the Above.”
Kelia's face crinkled in surprise at Nyla's deduction. “Yes, that's right.”
“Hello, Nyla,” Maeve said in a huskier voice than she expected. She also had a lilt to it that was pleasing to Nyla's ears. “It's nice to see you up and around. Until yesterday, I was your roommate.” Nyla followed her finger to a bed on the other side of the room.
“I saw you,” Nyla repeated. “You were lying on the ground. Your eyes were closed, and you were shivering like you'd been out in the cold all night. Except it was daytime. And there was another one with you. A boy, with red hair.”
Maeve nodded. “I was dying. I got bitten by a snake.”
“A what?” Nyla's eyebrows went up.
“A hugar,” Kelia corrected. “Her son, Davin, brought her here, and we were able to heal her in time.”
Nyla disengaged herself from her mother's grasp, approaching Maeve. She reached out a hand, making a move to touch the pale woman's arm. “May I?”
Maeve smiled. “Go ahead.”
She laid her hand upon Maeve's arm, feeling the softness of her flesh and the taut muscle underneath the skin. She ran her hands up to the woman's shoulder, tracing the outline of the strange bird that peered out at her.
All her life, she'd looked up at the night sky, wondering if beings from the Above actually existed. Seeing one standing before her was incredible, but that Maeve resembled her people so closely took her breath away. She couldn't keep the childish smile from her face. “I love your skin pictures. They almost look … alive.”
“Thank you,” Maeve said, pointing at the design that had captivated Nyla's attention. “This is a bird from my world. It's called a peregrine falcon.” Her finger moved toward the designs that decorated her sternum. “This one here,” she pointed to a bird with a head of pure white and wings of grey and black above her left breast, “is a white-tailed kite. This one,” her attention moved to the other side of her chest and a grey-and-brown bird with large wings and sharp talons, “is a harrier hawk. I have several others, which I'd be happy to show you later.”
“I'd like that,” Nyla said. “How do you draw pictures on your skin? Do they wash off when you bathe?”
Maeve laughed. “They're called tattoos, and no, they don't wash off. The process of getting them is rather painful, but I love having them. Each one represents a special event in my life.”
At that moment, two more figures rushed into the ward. One was the tall, red-haired boy she'd seen with Maeve in her vision, and the other was her best friend, her Promised.
“Ny!” Sarja squealed, rushing at her and enveloping her in a crushing hug. “Oh, thank Arantha!”
Nyla returned the hug, gently placing her hands on Sarja's back. “I'm all right, Sar.”
When Sarja faced her again, she saw a huge smile on her friend's face. And then, without warning, Sarja leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. Nyla shrank back, her face reddening. “Sar!” she cried, casting a glance at a grinning Kelia. “My mother is standing right there!”
Sarja blushed a deep red. “Sorry, Ny. I'm just so happy to see you awake.” She shot a look over her shoulder. “Um, this is Davin. He's –”
“I know, from the Above,” Nyla said. “Hello.”
“Hi,” he said. “You're looking better than the last time I saw you.”
“Thank you. Were you two together?”
Sarja still looked embarrassed. “I was just showing him around the village, that's all,” she said, somewhat defensively.
“Duma,” Kelia interrupted, “As gratified as I am that you're better, I am also very disappointed in you. I expressly forbade you from touching the Stone, as I feared this is exactly what would happen.”
“I know, mama,” Nyla said, shamefaced. “I'm so sorry I put you, well, everybody, through that. I only wanted to help.” She met her mother's stern gaze. “But at least something good came of it.”
Kelia's eyes bore into hers. “You saw something else?”
Nyla's mouth flattened into a straight line. “Oh, yes.”
* * *
“It was the most horrible thing I'd ever seen in my life,” Nyla said to the Councilors, who eyed her with intense curiosity. “This woman just … smiled as she slaughtered innocent people, while this other man looked on and did nothing. So much death …” She closed her eyes, trying to dispel the image from her mind.
“Interesting,” Kelia said from behind her, sitting upon her chair in the Council Chamber. Off to the side, Maeve and Davin also sat, listening to her recount the vision she'd risked her life for. “I had a similar vision only minutes before you woke up. With Maeve's help, I was able to see, at least partly, the danger that the Ixtrayu face. The greatest threat would appear to be this woman you saw.”
“Do you know who she is?” Nyla asked.
From the other side of the room, Eloni's voice came. “We believe she is a Wielder. From her age and description, she must be the daughter of Proda.”
“Who's Proda?”
“An Ixtrayu,” Kelia answered. “The last in a long line of lightning Wielders.”
“Not the last, apparently,” Katura said. “We assumed she was killed on her Sojourn, but it would appear she gave birth to a daughter before that happened.” She shook her head. “Poor child. She should have been raised here, by a people who loved her. Instead, she was likely raised by her father.”
Liana had a frightening scowl on her face. “If this girl's father is the one who killed Proda, no wonder she has such a callous disregard for life.”
“I don't understand,” Nyla said, facing her mother. “If Proda was so powerful, why didn't she use her abilities to escape?”
“For two reasons, duma,” Kelia s
aid. “First, we are forbidden from Wielding while on Sojourn. To have men see us Wield would make our existence known. Proda knew that. However, as a Wielder of lightning, she could not use her abilities while she was pregnant. To do so would have had grave consequences for her unborn child.”
Nyla drew in a sharp breath. “We're not allowed to Wield while we're pregnant?”
“For some Wielders, using our abilities does not have any detrimental effect on our unborn children. However, the more powerful a Wielder is, the more careful she must be. I had to refrain from using my elemental Wielding during all three of my pregnancies. Proda's power was such that she couldn't risk using hers, not even to save her own life.”
“I see,” Nyla said. “Who do you think the man is? From my vision?”
“I have no idea,” Kelia said. “I did not see such a man in my vision of the attack on the village. What did he look like?”
Nyla thought for a moment. “He had hair on his face,” she began, and then the resemblance between him and the other woman struck her. “They looked a lot alike, actually … the same eyes, the same face. They looked about the same age, too.”
Kelia leaned forward. “Did he have abilities as well?”
“Not that I saw. But he had the same terrible smile. The killing the woman was doing? He was enjoying it as much as she was.”
Her mother stood, walking past her and facing the Council. Each of them looked to be thinking the same thing.
“What is it?” Nyla asked.
A haunted look crossed her mother's face. “Twins. Proda birthed twins. The man is her brother.”
Katura also stood up. “This makes no sense, Protectress! How did this girl develop her abilities? Barju is too far distant! You yourself have stated that your abilities wane the further away from the Stone you are. So how could she even realize she could Wield in the first place? Unless …” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth as realization seemed to dawn on her.
“Unless what?” Nyla asked, fear coursing through her veins.
From the side of the room, Maeve spoke. “She has a Stone.”
Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2) Page 11