Queens (The Wielders of Arantha Book 2)

by Patrick Hodges

  In response, the Stone flashed a brilliant yellow, a blinding radiance that forced Maeve to avert her gaze. It only lasted a few moments. She lifted her hands in Nyla's direction, hoping her augmentation abilities were working.

  Maeve had half-expected to share Nyla's visions, to take part in them as she had done with Kelia, but it became clear that she and Nyla did not share the same telepathic link.

  She continued to watch as Nyla, her eyes closed and her brow furrowed in deep concentration, had her consultation. She wondered how long it might take, then hoped Nyla's visions would be both informative and quick in coming.

  She got her wish when, barely two minutes after making contact, Nyla retracted her hands. The incandescent light emanating from the Stone faded into a swirling, spiraling display coruscating across its surface, and then blinked out as if turned off by a switch.

  Nyla slumped back into the copilot's chair, tugging at the cloth of her tunic as she attempted to regain her breath. Maeve was delighted to see the vaguest hint of a smile on the girl's face.

  “Are you all right?” Maeve asked.

  Nyla nodded. “It really is amazing how much your Wielding helps mine. Whether it's with earth or fire, or with my visions, having you around just makes it so much easier.”

  “I take it you saw something?”

  Nyla placed her hands on her head, just above her ears, massaging the skin. “Not just something. Three somethings.”

  “I see,” Maeve said, making a move to stand up. “Do you want to tell me now, or shall I convene the Council?”

  A loud beep, accompanied by a flashing red light, issued from both the ship's main console and the portable unit attached to Maeve's arm. Swiveling her chair around, Maeve pressed several controls, activating the central viewscreen.

  “What is it?” asked Nyla, alarmed.

  “Proximity alert,” Maeve said, tension lacing her voice. “We have incoming. Lots of incoming.”

  Nyla poked her head over Maeve's shoulder, her eyes glued to the screen. “How many?”

  “Two hundred, all riding merychs, approaching from the east. At their current rate of speed, they'll be here in about twenty minutes.” Maeve stood up, confirming that her pistol was still tucked in its holster. “Looks like the bad guys have returned.” She made a move to dash from the room, but Nyla grabbed her by the arm.

  “Hold on,” Nyla said. “Can your devices see them from that far away?”

  “Well, the terrain east of the village is all empty plain, so they should. Why?”

  “One of the images I saw was that of a large company of riders crossing the plain. They were not Elzorath.”

  Maeve nodded, resuming her seat. “That's right. Your mother had a similar vision before I left. I completely forgot about it.” She ran her hands over the console, tapping buttons. She set the sensor array to maximum magnification, zooming in on its targets.

  There, still several miles distant, dozens, perhaps hundreds of soldiers approached, riding their merychs at a full gallop. They wore armor over their chests, arms, and torsos; some had swords dangling from their belts while others had bows slung over their backs. They rode with grim determination, heads down and eyes focused on the ground ahead of them.

  “I can't tell if they're Elzorath or not, but I'm not taking chances,” Maeve said. “Come, Nyla. We must alert the rest of the tribe.” She stood again, and again Nyla stopped her.

  “No, Maeve, look!”

  Maeve followed Nyla's pointing finger at the screen, which showed an image of the person leading the charge to the village. It was not a man, but a girl. Clad in the leather garb of an Ixtrayu huntress.

  “What the …?”

  Nyla sprang to her feet, continuing to tug on Maeve's arm. “It's Vaxi! She's back!”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Never in Vaxi's young life had she felt more excited than when the trees comprising the Circle of Union swam into focus on the horizon. After a day and a half of crossing the open, grassy savanna, she had prayed she was leading her new allies in the right direction. The recent rains had softened the earth and obliterated any remaining kova tracks. It was only by sheer instinct gained from years of hunting these plains that she hadn't led them miles off course.

  Pangs of regret knifed through her as she recalled skulking away from the village in the dead of night, Sojourning to Darad with the hopes of becoming pregnant with the Ixtrayu's first child since Nyla's birth. It felt like an entire season had passed since then.

  She gradually eased up on her merych's reins, gesturing at the men behind her to do the same. As the company drew to a halt, Aridor brought his steed up alongside her on her left, Mizar on her right.

  “I take it we're near?” Aridor asked.

  Vaxi pointed at the cluster of trees cresting the low hill two miles ahead of them. “Just over that hill is the Plateau. Your men will make camp near those trees, and then we will go on alone.”

  “Your Highness?” a man's voice said from behind them. Vaxi turned to see Harg, the captain of Aridor's personal guard, addressing him. “I implore you to reconsider going into hostile territory without at least a few guards.” He cast a wary glance at Vaxi, who had clearly not earned his trust despite Aridor's vouching for her.

  “It will be all right, Captain,” Aridor said. “We are here as diplomats, not conquerors.”

  “You have my word, he will come to no harm,” Vaxi added.

  Mizar, who had barely spoken since the party emerged from the forest, added, “I would like to accompany you, if I may.”

  “And me,” said another voice. A clop of hooves, and Sen brought his merych up behind Vaxi's. “With the King's permission, of course.”

  Aridor quirked an eyebrow at Sen, then his gaze fell upon Mizar, who shrugged. “We are both sons of Ixtrayu mothers, Your Highness,” Mizar said. “My apprentice merely shares my insatiable curiosity about what lies over that hill.”

  The King took several long moments to consider the High Mage's request, then nodded. “Lead the way, Vaxi.”

  * * *

  As instructed, Aridor's escorts made camp well short of the hill. Vaxi beseeched them not to breach the Circle of Union, as it was as close to hallowed ground as existed in Ixtrayu territory. She, Aridor, Mizar, and Sen dismounted, handing their merychs' reins to several waiting bodyguards. With an annoyed snort, Aridor also unfastened the clasp of his belt, placing it and his sword in Captain Harg's hands. Then, after taking a moment to make sure the golden crown encircling his head was properly straightened, he said, “May Arantha protect us.”

  With Vaxi leading the way, the four of them ascended the hill. About halfway up, she felt someone slip her hand into his. She turned to see Sen, an uneasy smile on his face.

  “Whatever happens,” he said in a breathy whisper, “I am here for you.”

  “I know.” Vaxi returned the smile, squeezing his hand before releasing it as they continued their climb.

  Focusing on the crest of the hill ahead of them, Vaxi had to blink several times when a figure appeared, as if out of nowhere. It was a woman unfamiliar to her.

  Her clothes were unlike any Vaxi had ever seen before. A sleeveless black top covered her chest and stomach, ending at a slender waist. Below that were pants—pants, like she'd seen men wearing in Darad. Sandy grey in color, they hugged her legs down to her shins, the cuffs spilling over dark brown boots. Her clothes, while unique, were not what captured Vaxi's attention the most, though. The woman's long hair was a vibrant purple, not unlike the wildflowers that grew in the forest by the banks of the River Ix.

  And then there was her skin. Paler than most Ixtrayu, her skin seemed to bear many colorful pictures of winged creatures, none of which Vaxi recognized.

  As she watched, the woman slipped her hands behind her back, drawing forth two short, narrow blades that she held at her sides.

  Weapons.

  Vaxi's mind raced. Whoever this woman was, she'd come into Ixtrayu territory armed. Had they arr
ived too late? Was this strange being one of Elzor's minions?

  Had Vaxi led her new friends into a trap?

  Moving faster than she ever had before, Vaxi unslung the bow from around her body, drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, aiming it at the woman's chest.

  She was about to let the arrow fly when the woman spoke. Her voice had a strange lilt to it, yet Vaxi could still understand the words. “Whoa! I'm not your enemy!”

  Taken aback by the woman's words, she let her grip on the bow and arrow slacken, but only a little. “Who in Arantha's name are you? Identify yourself, or I will kill you where you stand.”

  The woman brought her twin blades up, crossing them at arm's length in front of her in a clear defensive gesture. “You really don't want to do that.”

  Vaxi took another step forward, distancing herself from the three men. “I will ask again: who are you?”

  Just then, a familiar face appeared next to the woman's. A young, friendly face that Vaxi had despaired she would never see again.

  “Vaxi!” Nyla squealed, bounding past the woman and down the hill. Vaxi barely had time to drop her bow to the ground before Nyla threw herself into Vaxi's arms. “You're back! Thank Arantha you're back!”

  Vaxi felt sobs welling up in her friend's throat, as well as her own. She had no words. She'd prayed her sisters had forgiven her, and would welcome her back, and it looked like Arantha had granted her wish.

  As the two girls broke the hug, Vaxi flicked a dumbfounded gaze between the purple-haired woman and her friend. “What …? Who …?” she stammered.

  “A lot has happened since you left,” Nyla said.

  Vaxi stared into Nyla's eyes, which looked haunted, wracked by tragedy. Great Arantha, what had she missed?

  The woman strode forward, sheathing her blades as she addressed the King. “You must be King Aridor.”

  The King drew himself up, jutting his chin out in a truly regal pose. “I am. This is my High Mage, Mizar, and his apprentice, Sen.” Both men bowed their heads but didn't speak. “I have traveled all the way from Darad to seek an alliance with Protectress Kelia, in the hopes that —”

  “You're too late,” the woman said with a disdainful sneer. “Elzor's men have already come and gone.”

  A rock dropped into Vaxi's stomach. “What?”

  “It's true,” Nyla said, her voice thick with grief. “They attacked two nights ago.”

  Vaxi felt bile shoot straight up to her mouth. She clamped a quick hand over it to keep from vomiting. Swallowing it back down, she croaked, “The Protectress?”

  “She has been taken, along with the Stone.”

  The rock doubled in size. “The tribe …?”

  “Safe, for now. Though we lost eleven huntresses in the battle,” Nyla gestured to the woman, “thanks to Maeve, we kept our losses to a minimum.”

  Vaxi gasped again. “Eleven?”

  Nyla met her gaze, her big brown eyes brimming with tears. “Your grandmother's dead, Vaxi. So is … so is Sarja.”

  This was too much. Another ball of vomit invaded her throat, begging for release, and Vaxi couldn't hold it back. She sank to her knees, retching onto the grass, pangs of violent sorrow constricting her chest.

  Why, Arantha?

  It should have been me. I defied Kelia's orders, abandoned my sisters, and yet I live. I live, and twelve of my sisters have died. Including Sarja. Beautiful, sweet Sarja, gone to the Great Veil. But I remain, alive, having failed again.

  In her grief, she saw her grandmother's face scowling down at her, the knife in her hand. Droplets of blood, of Vaxi's blood, decorated the tip.

  You're such a disappointment to me, Susarra said, more times than Vaxi could count. Arantha took my beloved Ilora, and left me you. A failure.

  Vaxi heard the child version of herself wail in agony, pain searing through her body at the deep cut Susarra had made on her back.

  Her stomach expunged again, and she felt Sen lifting her up. With no regard for his own clothes, he held Vaxi to his chest, wrapping wiry arms around her. “It will be all right, Vaxi,” he said in his most soothing voice.

  No. It won't.

  * * *

  It took many long minutes for Vaxi to regain her senses. Once she had her emotions under control, Nyla introduced the purple-haired woman as “Maeve, a friend to the Ixtrayu and interim Protectress.” She did not elaborate further, despite Vaxi's many questions.

  As Maeve led them over the hill, Vaxi got her first look at her homeland, and another empty retch tore at her throat. She expected to see the croplands, fields of golden holm-grain and vines of colorful fruit, but the sight that met her was out of a nightmare.

  It was all gone, reduced to ash. The fields that had sustained the Ixtrayu for centuries were now a lifeless wasteland. Sen held her close as she covered her mouth again, fighting her gagging reflex down.

  And then she saw … it, only a stone's throw from the entrance to the Plateau. She stopped dead, her mouth hanging agape.

  “Great Arantha,” uttered Mizar in a reverent tone. She caught his expression, one of pure disbelief, and blanched. How could the High Mage, a powerful visionary, not have seen … this?

  “What is that?” Aridor asked, equally stunned at the sight of the metal behemoth now resting mere yards away from the Plateau.

  “That is the Talon, Your Highness,” Maeve said with pride. “It's a ship. My son and I came to Elystra in it.”

  “Came to …” Aridor shook his head, as if clearing the astonishment away. “You're from the Above?”

  Maeve nodded.

  Sen looked concernedly at Mizar, who seemed to have lapsed into a catatonic state. “Master? Master, are you all right?”

  Mizar's next words were barely above a whisper. “The Bird of Heaven.”

  Sen's eyes widened. “Merdeen's prophecy.”

  Aridor took a step forward, gazing down at the enormous bird-shaped craft. “Yes. It must be.”

  Maeve cleared her throat, commanding their attention. “What are you going on about?”

  Aridor cast his eyes to Mizar. “You might as well tell her.”

  Mizar nodded. “ 'A bird of heaven shall descend from the Above, and it shall bring with it Arantha's greatest warrior.' Merdeen the Sage foresaw it, foresaw this,” he waggled a shaky finger at the Talon, then at Maeve, “foresaw you in a vision almost a century ago. I had no idea what it meant … until now.” He took a deep breath, freeing himself from his light daze. His eyes locked on Nyla, and a warm smile creased his face. “You are Kelia's daughter, yes?”

  Nyla cocked her head to one side, puzzled. “Yes. And you are the High Mage of Darad. I've heard of you.”

  “What have you heard?”

  “Not very much. I know you're a powerful Elemental Wielder who has served the King for many years.” She looked to Aridor for confirmation, which he gave with a nod.

  “You are correct,” Mizar said, moving to stand right before Nyla. “I am an Elemental Wielder. I also have divinatory abilities.” His smile widened. “Just like your mother. Just like you.”

  Nyla's mouth fell open a crack. “What are you trying to—”

  “Your great-grandmother, Areca,” he said, measuring each word, “was my mother. You, and your mother—we are blood.”

  A tear fell down Mizar's cheek. He grasped a trembling Nyla by the shoulders, before pulling the girl into an embrace. Nyla, too stunned to move, did not fight back. “It is an honor to meet you … grand-niece,” Mizar said. Nyla just nodded into Mizar's chest.

  “I hate to break up this family reunion,” Maeve interjected, “but we have a mountain of shite to discuss. If you will all follow me?” And with that, she brazenly made her way down the hill towards the gleaming metal craft.

  Many Ixtrayu ran up to Vaxi as she neared the village, giving her welcome hugs and offering half-hearted condolences about the loss of her grandmother. It was only in that moment that it truly struck her. She was free. Free from Susarra's domineering, hat
eful presence. Free from living in constant fear of retribution or punishment.

  “She's really dead,” Vaxi whispered to herself.

  Sen, the only one near enough to hear her, shot her a hopeful look. “I'm glad,” he said, then caught himself. His face reddened. “I mean … that was a terrible thing to say. What I meant was …” He gulped, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

  “It's all right,” she said, looping her arm around his. “She's in Arantha's hands now. She can no longer hurt me.”

  The closer she got to the Talon, the more imposing it was. As a child, she'd heard of Agrusian ship-builders crafting enormous fishing boats that required a crew of twenty to operate. These ships would trawl the deep waters miles off the Agrusian coast, or transport cargo from one port to another. She'd never seen such a boat, but she would picture it in her mind as a little girl. The Talon, by comparison, was far, far superior. With its sleek, bird-like design, its black-and-grey hull, it almost crackled with energy.

  They reached the shadow of the ship just as two elderly women appeared at the northern entrance, making their way down the ramp. Their eyes lit up as they saw Vaxi, quickening their pace until they were close enough to throw their arms around her.

  “Welcome back, child,” said Liana, who now wore the white robe of a Councilor.

  “Yes, welcome back,” echoed Eloni. “I regret that the Ixtrayu are not in the same state that you left them.”

  “So I've been told,” Vaxi said, noticing Maeve beckoning at them from the shady spot next to the ship.

  Maeve performed the introductions between the Councilors and Vaxi's Daradian allies, keeping them brief in the interest of time, after which they all sat down in a circle of chairs made from a shiny white material Vaxi couldn't identify.

  It took many hours for each person to recount their individual stories to everyone else. Maeve went first, enthralling them with the circumstances that brought her to Elystra: the Eth, the Jegg, her husband Richard, her meeting with Kelia, the Stone they found, her Sharing with Kelia, her near-death experience with the hugar, and her fateful trip back to the mountains. Nyla then spoke of the attack by Elzaria and her brother's army, and of the Ixtrayu's defeat.