Child of the Kaites (The Firstborn's Legacy Book 1)

by Beth Wangler

  “We’re here!” Forziel laughs. He pats the weather-worn staircase carved from canyon’s wall. “Up there. We’ll be safe.”

  “Go on.” I nudge him forward and help Nihae start climbing. The clouds overhead spin lower. I scream and brandish my sword at the sky.

  The clouds raise a little.

  The rain falls faster.

  “Go,” I wave the others forward. “I’ll follow.”

  They clamber up the slick steps. Savi comes last and insists I go before him. He holds Elgarnoseth over us and keeps his hand on my back.

  My sandal squelches free of the mud. I climb the first couple steps.

  Then it starts to hail.

  “What?” Laen, the last one up the steps before me, flinches. Her foot slips. My heart lurches with her.

  Hands shoot out of the dark door opening. Drigo and Forziel each catch one of Laen’s arms and haul her inside.

  I start moving again. The steps stretch up and up. Whoever built this city must have known how high the canyon can flood and planned to stay dry forever.

  Those who climbed first churned the rain and dirt on the steps into slippery mud. “Be careful, Rai,” Savi says behind me.

  I climb as fast as I dare and keep my sling-bound shoulder brushing the side of the cliff. The hail pelts my head, my arms, the puddles on the stairs—anything it can reach. It melts as soon as it hits the ground.

  Until it doesn’t. A pebble of ice catches under my heel.

  My foot slips. I shift, but the sling throws my balance off. I lurch sideways.

  Red water splashes under me, far away. I close my eyes against the fall.

  A hand grabs my good shoulder. My eyes fly open. Savi is here, yanking me back, pushing me against the wall.

  But he must have moved too quickly. As he pushes me back, he’s falling away. Savi grabs at the air. Our fingers brush, but the rain, the mud—they’re too slick. I can’t catch him.

  A scream. Is it in my head, or in the air?

  Savi dangles by one hand over the rising water. I drop Luemikaroeth on the next step up and cling to his wrist. “Hold on.”

  Veins stand out on Savi’s face and arms. “I’m trying,” he grunts.

  I try to pull, but I can’t get leverage. There’s no space to move back on the narrow steps. Everything is slippery. I can only use one arm, and Savi has to hold onto Elgarnoseth.

  It’s not enough. At least when he was dangling over the side of a cliff on Ira, we had rope.

  Aia, save him!

  The clouds cackle. The aivenkaites sink lower.

  Forziel snatches up Luemikaroeth and holds it between us and the sky. “Don’t you dare come any closer,” he screams. “Not unless you wanna go straight back to the Void!”

  Hail melts off our skin. It runs between my fingers. Savi slips a hair’s breadth lower.

  My heart is beating out of my chest.

  Nihae calls for Savi to hold on. Then Drigo’s back on the steps, right above me, and Hoenna’s above him in the doorway. “Gimme your hand,” Drigo says. “Just don’t cut mine off.”

  Savi kicks his feet to the side. He swings to reach Drigo, but it strains our hold on each other. I cry out his name.

  The river’s rising so fast that the water brushes Savi’s toes.

  He swings.

  I lose my grip.

  Then Savi’s dangling from Drigo. “That’s it,” the Kedi encourages. Drigo’s neck strains against the cords of bone. “Hoenna, a little help?”

  Hoenna hooks one arm around the open door and one around Drigo’s waist. I grab Drigo’s shoulder and lend my strength.

  Savi’s higher now, but so is the water. Red laps at the stairs only a few steps below me. Lightning arcs between the clouds and the torrent churning down the canyon. Where the lightning hits, the water buckles and convulses into a monstrous crocodile.

  “Pull,” Savi grunts.

  “Hold on,” Drigo says. He shifts his grip around Savi’s fist, which still grips his sword.

  Savi’s face turns deeper red. He swings and catches Drigo’s wrist with his other hand, then Drigo, Hoenna, and I pull.

  The aivenkaite crocodile snaps at the air right under Savi’s heels. Thunder crackles.

  “Forziel!”

  He tosses me Luemikaroeth. This time, I do catch it. I stab at the solid water, and the beastly form dissolves with a shriek. The clouds are lower, so I thrust Luemikaroeth up without pausing. “I will use this!” I scream, loud enough it burns my throat.

  The bandits haul Savi back onto the steps, then we’re all through the door and I throw myself at Savi.

  The aivenkaites in the clouds roar.

  “Watch out!” Forziel yells.

  Savi tugs me away from the open doorway. The ground shakes in a peal of thunder. Lightning flashes so close its heat smacks my face. It strikes the canyon above the door.

  “Back up,” someone yells, drowned out by the world shaking.

  We flee back, just a few steps before the door caves in. The crash deafens me.

  Darkness.

  Silence.

  My ears ring. I clutch tight at Saviayr. He squeezes back, both arms tight, cheek pressed to the top of my head. We pant for breath.

  The ringing starts to fade, and the first sound I hear is Savi’s heart racing under my ear.

  “Are you okay?” My hands start to move, feeling his chest, arms, and back for injury in the dark.

  Savi rubs my back gently. “Bruised, but okay. Are you hurt?”

  I shake my head, though he can’t possibly see. “No worse than before.”

  Now I hear breaths, loud in the dark. The storm outside sounds like it has stopped more suddenly than it began. Everything is too quiet, just like the dungeon tunnel before the aivenkaites attacked, just like the lull after Elesekk died.

  “Is everyone okay?” My voice is too high. I don’t let go of Savi.

  My head swims and the floor seems to tilt. Wait—it is tilting. I shriek. Savi clutches my wrist. There’s a grating of rock against rock.

  “They’re in the ground,” I say, just before something hits my stomach.

  “Who?” Drigo asks. “People live here?”

  “Aivenkaites,” Savi grunts.

  The ground under my foot turns to sludge. It sucks me down. Savi’s hand slips, and the ebony darkness separates us. I yell and take a blind stab.

  An aivenkaite moans, and my foot is free.

  The air hums by my ear—Savi swinging Elgarnoseth. I flinch away.

  “Something’s got me!” Forziel exclaims.

  He’s close. I stumble toward his voice. “Keep talking,” I order.

  A rock bangs my shoulder. I fall forward, into someone.

  “I’m trying,” Forziel gasps, right in front of me.

  “Where’s it got you?” I ask.

  “My throat.”

  I’m clumsy moving blind, but it can’t be helped. With as much care as possible, I nick the stone curling around Forziel’s neck with my blade.

  The stone crumbles.

  But Nihae calls for help, and Hoenna, and Laen, and Savi’s trying to find Drigo, and a new rock rams into my knee. We can’t do this.

  “Aia, save us,” I choke through the dust in the air. The golden-dust light of dawn on Ira flickers through my mind, and memory of Nhardah’s voice echoes in my ears. I find myself repeating what he had said. “I name you wicked rebels of Aia-Thaies, and by the power of Aia-Thaies, the creator of all, I command you to leave us alone!”

  At the same time, Saviayr shouts, “You will not take another life today! Hae-Aia!”

  The rumble of shifting rock pauses for a heartbeat. Then it starts again—but this time, rock smacks against rock, not human flesh. A stone whistles past my ear but does not touch me. The aivenkaites grumble. Usually their evil tongue sends cold shivers down my spine, but this time, triumph warms my chest.

  The room shudders. Someone’s arm wraps around me. Saviayr shouts—it’s his arm I feel—and I imagi
ne him holding Elgarnoseth over all our heads.

  Then the world settles. I cough on the dust and sneeze. The sneezes echoing around the room reassure me that some of my friends survive still.

  I sneeze one more time, then repeat my question from earlier. “Is everyone okay?” It takes a moment, but everyone reports: Scrapes, bruises, a stubbed toe, but no one missing, no serious injuries.

  “I hate this,” Drigo says. “Storm’s quiet. Let’s get out of here.” His footsteps rustle debris, but I’ve lost all sense of which way is which.

  “Wait!” Forziel says.

  Drigo hisses and says a word I don’t recognize, probably a Kedi curse. “In case you were wondering, these rocks are hot.”

  “Lightning struck them,” Forziel says. “What did you expect?”

  “What did I expect? This whole day’s been one big batch of weird. Did you see that storm, did you feel this room attack us, or was it just me?”

  “Well,” Yori pipes in, “a couple days ago we saw the desert come to life and hurl itself at us, so murderous storms and homicidal rooms aren’t that out of the ordinary.”

  Drigo snorts. “Right. So it’s perfectly reasonable to expect whatever magic made the storm to not make the rocks hot, right?”

  “Drigo—” Hoenna sounds tired— “they’re aivenkaites, not magic.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  I feel Saviayr sigh. “Okay, if we can all calm down for a moment, let’s try to focus on our new problem. Did anyone see a passageway out of this room before the door caved in?”

  Silence greets us again, full only of our breaths.

  “Does that mean no?” I ask.

  “I was too focused on what was happening outside,” Forziel says.

  “Same.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Then let’s check now,” Savi says. “But be careful. Everyone stay within earshot.”

  “Stop pushing.”

  “Get your hands off me!”

  “Ouch! That’s my foot.”

  “Yikes! Something moved.”

  “That was my hand.”

  Everyone climbs over each other, feeling every part of the room. Savi and I stand out of the way and listen to the search.

  It stops abruptly when Forziel says, “Woah, there’s a hole.”

  “Where?” Yori asks.

  Some shuffling, and Forziel says, “I think it stretches across the whole room.”

  “Be careful.” The words slip out before I think, but I have the strong feeling that Forziel might do something rash and get himself hurt.

  “Forziel,” Savi asks, “are you absolutely certain?”

  Some more shuffling, and Forziel answers, “Yep. In this dark, I have no idea how far across the gap is, but we’re stuck.”

  “Awesome,” Drigo says. “We’re doing great at getting to the capital. I’m sure dying trapped in here was part of your plan?”

  “Shut up, Drigo.”

  Chapter 29

  “It’s hopeless,” Laen exclaims. “We’re trapped in here. We’ll run out of air, and we’ll die of thirst, and I hate the dark, and what if the aivenkaites come back and kill us!” Her voice rises as she speaks. The last bit is more of a wail than words, accompanied by her breath, too loud, too fast.

  I think of the hilltop on Ira, of debarking in Izyphor without a seal of freedom, of the way out of Yrin’s dungeon, and every other impossible thing that has happened since Saviayr showed up at Tatanda’s house. “Laen, we’ll be okay,” I promise. The strange thing is, I actually believe it, even with Elesekk’s death resting like a stone in my chest. Aia has gotten us this far. I don’t understand why He let Elesekk die, but He won’t leave us trapped in this hole.

  “Ow—Drigo, watch your elbow,” Hoenna says.

  “I wouldn’t have to if you’d get out of my way.”

  Laen’s breathing speeds up.

  Saviayr’s voice rings out and makes me jump. “Whoever’s closest to Laen needs to help her.”

  “That’s me,” Forziel groans. Pebbles skitter as he goes to her.

  “Be careful of the hole,” Hoenna says.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Sandals shuffle over crumbled rock. “Okay, I’m here, Laen.”

  “Hold her shoulders,” Hoenna prompts. “Laen, focus on Forziel. Feel his breaths. Try to match him.”

  “Yeah,” Forziel says. “Here, see? Copy me. Breathe in and out. In, and out. Slow like that.”

  It takes a while, but Laen’s breaths start to slow.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Laen’s calming down, but isn’t she kind of right?” Drigo asks. “We’re trapped. We’re gonna die. Some god your Aia is—he can’t even keep his Champions safe.”

  That makes me angry. I’m holding Savi with one hand—I’ve shrugged off the sling—and Luemikaroeth with the other. I squeeze the sword hilt and feel something...strange. When I first held the sword, it felt like knowledge of swordplay was flowing into me. Now, my anger seems to call to the sword, and it answers by magnifying my anger and clearing my head.

  Never before has anger made my head feel more clear.

  I see it plainly. “That’s not true,” I tell Drigo. “Aia is Thaies—He is God, and He is perfectly capable of saving His Champions.”

  Drigo’s eyes widen in surprise.

  Wait—I can see his eyes?

  “Rai,” Savi breathes, “your sword.”

  The center of Luemikaroeth’s blade, which looked like diamond dust in the sun, now shines white. The rest of the sword, except the black leather grip, glows a faint silver-blue.

  I almost drop it.

  Has Luemikaroeth always done this? The night on the hill with Nhardah blurs. There was too much fear then, too much happening. I can’t remember if the sword’s glow was real or imagined.

  What is going on?

  The sword’s light dims.

  Maybe it will only last a short time? Then I need to make good use of the light. I push the questions aside and meet Drigo’s eyes. “Aia has not abandoned us.”

  Luemikaroeth’s light grows. The farthest edges of the room come into sight: gray, dusty. Ruined floor strewn with rocks and dust surrounds us and falls off in a remarkably straight chasm a few yards from where I stand. My heart sinks. It is too far to jump.

  Not far beyond the chasm’s far edge, the curved roof of a hall fades into darkness beyond an archway. There is a way out of this room, if only we can get across.

  “We really are trapped,” Forziel says, uncharacteristically quiet.

  I search the walls and ceiling for some way out. Sword light glints off blue and red paint. Unfinished stone hangs overhead, except for remnants of repeated cloudlike swirls of tile at the edges of the room.

  Did the aivenkaites drop the whole ceiling on us?

  How did we survive that?

  And why is my sword glowing?

  The mysteries keep growing, but I haven’t the time to ponder them.

  Everyone is silent, staring at the gaping floor.

  I take a deep breath. Because praying is easiest in the language of my parents, I switch from the Common Tongue to Maraian and look to the ceiling.

  “Aia, we are trapped in this room. We can’t find any way out. But You saved me from the river and raised me by Your kaites, You gave me a new name and sent Nhardah to remind me—You said that at last You are going to rescue Your people from slavery, and that You will do that through Saviayr and me. Please, be true to Your word. Please show us a way out.”

  The sword shines brighter still.

  “Hey.” Drigo dives into his pack. “I just remembered, I packed this.” He pulls a coil of rope out of the bag.

  Forziel perks up. His eyes dart eagerly around the room. Then he grins. “Guys, I’ve got a plan.”

  “What are you thinking?” Savi asks him.

  The boy points at the wall. “See that?”

  Up high, almost at the ceiling, is what looks like the remains of molding
that would have linked pillars together.

  “What if we hook Drigo’s rope around it and swing across the gap?” Forziel bounces on his toes. “The Wanderers Three did something just like that in ‘The Ballad of the Southern Forest’—only it wasn’t in a cave, it was in a forest, and it wasn’t a pit, it was a river.”

  “That sounds…” I trail off.

  “Terrifying?” Laen supplies.

  “It could work,” Savi says, doubt clouding his voice.

  “I can tie it,” Forziel offers. “I worked on the cargo ships, transporting marble for new buildings. I’m great with knots.”

  Drigo snorts. “Calm down, kid. I’ve got this.” His hands twist the rope faster than I can follow, but I recognize a lariat loop as well as any slave would. Ropes are among the few tools the Izyphorns allow us to use in our work.

  When he finishes, Drigo tries to loop the rope onto the molding remnant. After he falls short a dozen times, Laen snatches the rope from him. “Let me,” she says, and weighs the rope in her palms. After a couple heartbeats, she swings it.

  The loop catches the molding. Laen flicks the rope to scoot it further over the stone, then tugs it tight.

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Who’s going first?”

  Forziel jumps at the opportunity and immediately swings out over the chasm. He doesn’t reach the other side, though. His sandals don’t even brush the edge.

  Hoenna and Savi haul Forziel back onto our side by his tunic when he swings back. “Problem,” Forziel says. “That thing’s closer to this side, which means we’re going to need to run to swing all the way to the other side.”

  While Forziel holds the rope, the rest of us scoot around rubble to clear a running path.

  “Is Elesekk over there?” Nihae asks me with utmost calmness. She dumps a boulder on a rubble pile.

  I stumble. “What?”

  “Elesekk,” Nihae repeats. “We’re going to meet him, right?”

  “Um.”

  I meet Hoenna’s eyes. He mouths, “Play along.”

  “Maybe,” I answer, trying to keep my voice from shaking.