Edgelanders (Serpent of Time)

by Jennifer Melzer

  “Maybe she wanted you to be surprised.” It was meant as a joke, but judging from the glare she turned over her shoulder at him, she was not amused. “Or maybe she didn’t even know he was still alive.”

  “Seers are supposed to know just about everything, aren’t they?”

  “I haven’t been around many seers in my life,” he confessed.

  “Neither have I.”

  “Then guessing exactly what it is they are really supposed to know is beyond us both, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I just wish…” Turning her gaze forward again, she stared for a long time in the direction of the man she shared parentage with. “I mean, it would have been nice to know beforehand. She could have told me whether or not he could be trusted.”

  “Maybe she couldn’t tell you. She said there were many things that awaited you out here, things only you could discover on your own, or else she risked steering you from the course Llorveth chose for you.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” she huffed. “How can you steer someone from their path by telling them what to expect on the road?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never understood seers,” he confessed. “Like I said, I haven’t known many. Right now I just think it’s better not to question what she has told us, but keep an open mind. She told you you had to come this way. I’m sure there was a reason.”

  “I suppose,” she nodded, but he could tell she didn’t quite accept things as readily as he did. “I just wish she’d told me more.”

  They’d chatted quietly among themselves all the way through the mountain pass, whispering, muttering, and though the looks their quiet conversation wrought from both of their brothers seemed to suggest their proximity was disturbing, Finn wouldn’t have had it any other way. She was finally coming around to the idea of trusting him, maybe even allowing herself to experience the bond they shared, even if she was a long way from embracing it completely. He could wait for her, as long as she needed to acknowledge their bond, he could wait.

  While they’d been sitting together by the fire at camp, she moved close to him, allowed him a small bit of comfort she didn’t even know existed by giving him that closeness. Her mind was still riddled with questions she’d asked half a dozen times on the way up the mountainside, and it seemed she wouldn’t get her fill of asking them out loud until the answers were more certain.

  “Do you really think it’s true?” she asked the night before, still staring at their savior. “Is he really Rognar’s son?”

  “Rognar did have a son, but Viln would know more about him than I would,” he shrugged. “My mother told me when I was a boy that Logren and his mother died when Aelfric’s men set fire to Vrinkarn, but who knows. Maybe he escaped.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There are definite similarities between the two of you,” he added. “Unless someone is trying to create some elaborate ruse, why would he lie?”

  “Why does anyone lie?” she asked almost bitterly. “Because they have an agenda, and I’m getting a little tired of being at the center of everyone’s agenda.”

  “Like your betrothed’s agenda?”

  “Exactly like that.” She looked down at her hands and absently ran her fingernail along the cuticle to clean away the dirt caked there. For a moment Finn just watched her face before the loose strands of her hair fell in to hide it. She could play tough all she liked, but something inside of her weakened at the mention of the night he found her.

  “Tell me what happened the night I found you, Lorelei. Tell me what he did to you.”

  Immediately stiffening, she turned her gaze toward the fire and stared into it for a long time without speaking. “I’m sorry, Finn, but I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you? Are you afraid saying it out loud will make it even more real, because if that’s the case, I hate to break it to you, Princess? All this is very real.”

  “I know,” she swallowed hard against her apprehension. “I just… it’s too painful. I don’t want to talk about Trystay… not now, maybe not ever.”

  “Did he…” he stopped himself from asking the question on his mind. He wouldn’t be able to control his rage if he found out that man had taken her of or against her will before he’d planned to murder her. “Did you love him?”

  “No,” she laughed uneasily. “I had hoped to,” she admitted, and Finn felt every part of him tighten to hear her say that, the jealous beast inside him flaring angrily. The thought of her loving someone else, even if it was just a hope, made his blood boil. “I could see myself learning to love him once we were married, but we barely even knew each other. It seems I didn’t really know him at all.”

  His fists clenched until he felt the knuckles crack. He drew several deep breaths in through his nose, reveling in the mild calming effect they had on him as he stretched open his finger and listened to the joints crack in the process. “I’d like to run him through with a sword.”

  Lorelei glanced down the length of his arm at his hands, a nervous titter caught in her throat. “Well, that’s… that’s very kind of you, Finn.”

  “It won’t be so kind if I ever see this Trystay, trust me. Maybe we should abort this whole exile plan and head northeast.”

  “Now that sounds like a plan,” she mused with a soft chuckle and drew her legs up. Wrapping her arms around them, she thoughtfully rested her chin on her knees, the loose tendrils of her hair fluttering slowly in the wind. “We could save my little sister.”

  “I will help you save your sister if that’s what you want to do.”

  “I believe you really would.” The firelight played on the gold and tawny strands hidden among the auburn of her hair, and a part of him wanted so bad to reach out and run his fingers through that soft, perfect light. “But I wouldn’t even know how to go about doing such a thing, especially considering the things he’s probably told my father about my leaving.”

  “Aelfric would be a fool to believe his lies. You were his daughter once, even if only in name.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s just the thing. I was a daughter, Finn, not a son. Daughters are an inconvenience to men like him, worth little more than the value of the alliance they can buy him through their hand in marriage, and my running away from Trystay will have no doubt snipped the very thin thread of credibility I had with the man I called my father.”

  “That’s…” He didn’t know what else to say, which was an unusual thing for Finn, so he found himself leaning back and just staring into the fire for a while. “There are still ways to save your little sister.”

  “Maybe,” she shook her head. “I just don’t know how.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “Together, all right?” She didn’t answer right away, but chewed the corner of her mouth as if trying to find the courage to agree. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I would never dream of letting you down, Princess. If finding your sister is what you want to do, then we will find her.”

  “I believe you.” It must have taken everything she had to say those words. “Maybe Logren will help too.”

  At the time Finn glanced toward the man who’d just sat down beside his brother. He wished he could see right through him and get to the root of his intentions for her sake, but he was no seer. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Maybe he will.”

  She tentatively let herself lean against his shoulder. The gesture alone sent an overwhelming burst of emotion through him, and though he was afraid of how she’d react, he lifted his arm and lowered it over her shoulders to draw her against his chest so she could rest there. She was so warm. Her small body emanated heat through the thick fur blanket some kind soul in the camp had offered to her the way a devoted acolyte might make offering to a goddess.

  Long after her body relaxed and she drifted off to sleep, Finn sat alone, watching the bodies move around the camp. He spied the magic-user watching them from the shadows of his hood, at least it felt like he was watching. Finn couldn’t see his eyes, but he cou
ld feel the burn of his stare and it made his stomach feel sick. The Light of Madra. He kept playing those words over and over in his mind, but he had no idea what they meant. Whatever it was, it must have made her pretty special to the people in that camp, in the city they were leading them to.

  With her warm body nestled close to his, Finn finally felt the exhaustion of the last three days catch up with him. He only planned to close his eyes for a minute, but when her movement jostled him awake he could see the grey light of a cold dawn lifting the darkness off the horizon.

  “What do you think happened to the hunters?” she posed that question after more than an hour’s trek, finally noticing the four wolves were not among their party. She hadn’t seen Logren approaching from the front of the line, and startled a little when he spoke up from beside her.

  “I sent ten of my best men ahead with them this morning before the sun came up. They’ll move more quickly without the rest of us slowing them down, especially if a storm hits. The sooner they get to Dunvarak, the sooner they can be interrogated and dealt with.”

  “Dealt with? What does that mean?”

  “It’s hard to say,” Logren admitted. “Hodon is not a cruel man, but their intentions toward you will not be taken lightly. If they choose not to cooperate, they will likely be executed.”

  “Executed?” she drew out to gawp at her brother, her eyes wide with horror. Finn felt her heart skip a beat inside her chest and did his best not to gasp from the unexpected shift of her rhythm.

  “We have very little love for our northern relations,” he said stiffly. “Just as I’m sure they haven’t much for us.”

  “Perhaps we’d have had more love for you if we’d known you even existed down here,” Finn interjected.

  Logren turned his head back to look at him, his cold amber eyes narrowing with distrust and derision. The beast within Finn stirred, feeling provoked by that unspoken gesture, but there was little he could do to free it.

  “Oh, I highly doubt that, Mad Finn.”

  Lorelei’s brow furrowed. “Is everyone in your city like me?” she finally asked.

  “Like you?” Logren laughed a little and shook his head. “There is no one like you, little sister, of that I can assure you.”

  “I mean… half-blooded.”

  “Most of us, yes. There are a scarce few full-blooded U’lfer in Dunvarak, but most of the people are refugees who only escaped the War of Silence by divine intervention.”

  “Divine intervention? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “With help from the gods,” Vilnjar interjected from over Finn’s shoulder.

  “I get that,” she snapped back at him, “but how…”

  “It’s a long story,” Logren said after a silence Finn didn’t think he would ever break. “A story best kept for another time. Is there anything I can get you right now, Lorelei? More food? Warmer gloves?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “Thank you.”

  Logren did not linger long after that, but excused himself and made his way back to the front of the line again. Vilnjar still hung over Finn’s shoulder, and though Finn was too preoccupied with the tangle of Lorelei’s emotions to read his brother clearly, he knew Viln was as disturbed as she was by their situation.

  “Your exile is turning out to be quite the adventure, little brother.”

  “I expected no less. Venturing beyond the Edgelands has always been a dream of mine, and here I am, beyond the edge of the land that was our prison.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. Your disappointment would break my heart.”

  “Someone’s woke up on the wrong side of the mountain.”

  “You might as well get used to it, Finn. We’ll be waking up on the wrong side of the mountain for the rest of our days, however numbered they may be.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Leaning in closer, he looked between them with hard, serious eyes. “I don’t know what awaits us when we arrive wherever they are taking us, but I don’t trust them, and neither should you, Lorelei. No matter what they offer you.”

  Looking down at her hands, she asked again, “Is he really Rognar’s son? You knew him when you were boys.”

  “He looks more like your sire than you do.”

  “So he is my brother?”

  “As much as I would like to believe he’s not, all of the evidence suggests otherwise. I would still keep my guard up, were I you. There is no telling what they want from you.”

  “It can’t be any worse than what your council wanted to do to me,” she said calmly, the look in her eye suggesting she took a little comfort in Vilnjar’s guilt when he looked away from her. “I have no intention of letting my guard down,” she assured him.

  “Good,” he nodded. “Finn and I won’t be able to protect you, as we’re in chains, not that our weapons would be much use against their mage. I know it isn’t much, but in the event that something unexpected does crop up, try to remember everything Finn taught you. After everything we’ve been through, I’d hate to see anything happen to you because we couldn’t protect you.”

  She couldn’t hide the thoughtful smile drawing at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t know, I think I held my own pretty well yesterday. I’m still alive.”

  “That you are,” Vilnjar agreed with a curt nod, his hand lifting out to lower onto her shoulder. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  Vilnjar’s distrust set Finn’s teeth on edge, but then his brother didn’t trust anyone. It was just his nature. It made Finn uncomfortable nonetheless, and he didn’t like being reminded that he wouldn’t be able to protect her if the need arose.

  The need didn’t arise, however, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or somewhat disappointed. Viln said not to trust them, and he didn’t, but they seemed to be doing exactly as they’d promised, leading them through mile after mile of deep snow to their village. The trek down the other side of the mountain proved relatively uneventful except for a few minor slips on the treacherous ice and the distant bellow of some angry beast hidden away in one of the mountains many caverns.

  Lorelei stayed beside him, her clumsy steps on the ice occasionally bumping her body into his, but he started to live for those brief moments of unexpected contact and wondered after a while if she was doing it on purpose. That was a stupid thought, though it was definitely the kind of thing he would have done if he’d thought of it first. She’d never know it, but those fleeting incidents when their bodies collided brought him comfort, took his mind off the searing burn of silver on his bare skin and made the journey almost tolerable.

  They didn’t speak much as they traveled, and what they did say was of little consequence. She could have talked about spider webs and twigs for all he cared; just the sound of her voice and the fact that it was focused on him made Finn forget that he was freezing and in pain. She was talking about winters in Rivenn when the mage who’d stopped the battle with the hunters approached and offered to lay a heavy, fur-lined cloak atop her shoulders to keep her warm.

  “I thought you might be cold, my lady.”

  Finn scowled jealously when she actually accepted and snuggled graciously into its warmth before turning her attention to the newcomer for a while.

  “I heard Logren call you Bren, is that right?”

  “Yes, lady.” Finn swore he saw the man’s unnatural lavender eyes shimmer with untold excitement over the fact that she knew his name. “Brendolowyn Raven-Storm. It’s a mouthful, I know, so most people just call me Bren.”

  A heavy gust of wind was all it took to reveal he wasn’t a very big man beneath his robes, even if he was taller than Finn. The long, flowing black robes clung to his lithe body, showing off the length of his legs and the thinness of his arms. There was, however, a fierceness in his eyes that spoke volumes about the kind of battles he’d seen. The bare wrists peeking out from between his black leather gloves and the rune-embroidered cuffs of his robes were inked with faded elven and runic tattoos, the desi
gns of which were impossible to tell as they disappeared back into the fabric that hid them.

  Finn tilted his head over to inspect him more deeply. There was something off about the man, something more than just the fact that he was a magic-user.

  “Raven-Storm,” she repeated. “That’s an unusual name. I thought the U’lfer were named by their deeds. I already know why they call him Mad Finn the Reckless,” she laughed, a sound that should have made him happy, but instead stoked the fire of jealousy burning in his heart, “but how did you come by the name Raven-Storm?”

  “My mother named me so when I was just a boy. A sand troll attacked our village while I was playing on the outskirts. When I heard the sounds, I ran in a panic to save my mother. While I was running I called upon a storm of ravens, and I didn’t even know how.”

  “A storm of ravens?” she leaned out to look over at him. “That sounds terrifying.”

  Bren laughed and nodded his head. “It was quite terrifying, actually. I was so scared, I didn’t even realize I had done it, and once they arrived they swarmed the entire village like a nightmare, but they drove out the troll.”

  “How did you get rid of them?”

  “Fortunately my mother’s was able to overpower a frightened child’s spell and she sent them away, all but one.” As if on cue a broad-winged black bird flew in and landed in a flurry of feathers on his shoulder, its sharp beak nuzzling affectionately against the mage’s cheek before cocking its blue-black head to inspect Lorelei with curiosity. “This is Hrafn. When my mother sent his brethren back to the skies, he chose to stay with me. She said he was an ancestor spirit who’d chosen to bond himself to me, and he’s been with me ever since.”

  “That’s… he is beautiful.” The bird bowed his head as if practicing some gesture of humility and then leaned forward to coo at her when she reached her finger out to stroke through the soft down atop its head.

  “I think he likes you.” Lorelei laughed, but Finn didn’t think it was the least bit funny or cute.