Keeper of the Dawn

by Dianna Gunn

  Other voices joined the first, creating a chorus of laughter. Their voices grew and grew in her ears until she screamed, unable to bear the pain.

  She bolted upright, hands flying to her weapons, but there was only Maia, sleeping peacefully, and trees surrounding the clearing.

  Lai wiped a layer of cold sweat from her face and pushed her blanket away. She took a deep, steadying breath, set her blades on the ground, and cupped her hands together, focusing her mind on images of flames. Small pinpricks of light emerged, one from each palm. She imagined them growing, their heat warming her hands. After several long moments they obeyed, growing enough to illuminate her camp properly. She sighed with relief, closing her hand around one of the flames and throwing the other into the remnants of last night’s fire.

  She ate a small chunk of bread and packed her things. She didn’t even try going back to sleep. She couldn’t handle another dream like that.

  She woke Maia when the first hints of dawn tinted the sky and walked beside the mare while she grazed. Dozens of birds in the trees above called good morning to each other, their voices so beautiful that she wanted to return the call, but her throat couldn’t make such magnificent sounds. Eventually she knocked one out of a tree with her sling, tearing its feathers away so she could turn it into breakfast. She hated killing the sweet animal, but she had no idea what plants would be safe to eat here.

  Lai traveled for long hours each day with only the songs of the birds and the sounds of Maia’s hooves to keep her company. She rode north, constantly north, hoping the goddesses would give her a sign, a new path to follow. Every night the nightmares came, always in a clearing, surrounded by the cold laughter of the invisible woman.

  The nightmares weighed on her more heavily every day, along with the silence. Eventually she started talking to Maia, afraid she would lose her voice completely if she didn’t use it. She told the horse stories about her childhood, her mother, the temple. All the things she could never get back.

  One week after she reached the forest she came to an area where the trees grew so close together their branches hid all but the tiniest patches of blue sky. Each massive trunk emanated ancient power, as if they contained pieces of Ravina’s magic. Lai rode slowly here, absorbing as much of the energy as she could. She made camp early and whispered prayers. It was the first time in many days that she actually felt like the gods were listening.

  Lai was loath to leave the deep woods the next day, but she couldn’t survive alone in the woods forever, so she walked Maia slowly out of the area.

  At midday they finally found a long, winding road leading east, with a northward bend at the far edge of her vision. Lai rested her hands on her knives as she nudged Maia onto the path. If the legends were true, she’d find trouble long before she found work.

  Soon screams filled the air. She stiffened and brought Maia to a stop. Whoever it was, they needed help.

  She pressed one hand against Maia’s side, focusing her mind on the runic symbol for silence and pushing her magical energy through the mare’s body, down towards her hooves. When she nudged Maia forward again they made no sound.

  Lai grabbed her sling as she approached the bend in the road. It opened onto a large clearing. A massive red caravan sat in the middle, one wheel badly damaged. The horses leading it had been left unharmed, but the driver had an arrow in his neck and blood all the way down his shirt.

  The tallest man Lai had ever seen had pinned a short, round man to the side of the caravan. The short man wore such fine clothes he could only have been a merchant or a nobleman, and his face was red with fear. A corpse lay on their left side, a puddle of blood still growing around it. Two more corpses lay behind the caravan.

  “I hope you have more than clothing in there,” the tall man said in a strangely familiar language. “Otherwise we’ll have to ransom you.”

  The round man’s face grew redder. “Take whatever you want from the caravan, but nobody will pay for me.”

  The bigger man laughed. “We’ll see.”

  Lai kept her gaze on the two men as she fumbled around the pouches in her belt, searching for a stone.

  She loaded the stone into the sling and raised her arm, spinning the sling above her head. The movement was familiar, comforting. With each circle she increased the speed until the stone spun too fast to be seen.

  Lai wasn’t used to hitting targets from this far away, but a man was much bigger than a rabbit or a bird, especially this man. She took a deep breath and let the stone fly.

  It hurtled through the air, hitting the tall man in the head. He made a strangled yelping sound and crashed to the ground. Lai’s smile grew into a grin.

  She reloaded the sling as another man, this one closer to her own size, jumped out of the caravan, one hand clutching a massive ruby and the other holding a short sword. She raised her arm and started spinning the sling again.

  He took a couple steps forward, then stopped and held his arms up as if to surrender. “We can make a deal, you keep half—”

  “I don’t make deals with thieves.” She let the second stone fly. It smashed into his collar bone, knocking him backwards. His head hit the edge of the caravan with a resounding crack. Lai flinched at the sound and shoved her sling back into its pouch, drawing her niro as she approached the caravan. The bigger man might still be alive.

  The rich man didn’t seem to think so, stepping right over the body to approach her, his round face lit up with gratitude.

  “You saved my livelihood,” he said. “I’ll pay you well to escort me home.”

  Suddenly she knew why she recognized the northern language. It was almost identical to the language priestesses used to create spells and pass secret messages. But how? Only the oldest initiates got even introductory lessons.

  At least I understand him. She sheathed her blades. “I’ll protect you if you teach me to speak Alanum.”

  “Of course. I’m Calvin.” He held out a hands.

  She stared blankly at his outstretched hand. “Lai.”

  “You’re supposed to shake it,” Calvin said, nodding towards his hand.

  Lai blinked. “Why?” Back home it was rude to touch anyone but the closest friends and family.

  He shrugged. “It’s how we introduce ourselves here. Come on, we have to replace this wheel if we want to find a better camping spot tonight.” He took his hand back and waddled into the caravan without even looking to see if she was behind him.

  She glanced at her own hands, filthy from days on the road without a proper scrub—why anyone would want to touch them was beyond her—then tied Maia to the nearest tree and followed Calvin into the caravan.

  Chests full of rubies, silks and furs lay open, more even than Pa took with him on his longest journeys. Calvin pulled a large wooden wheel out of the back corner.

  “I am never hiring guards from that town again,” he grumbled, rolling the wheel in front of her.

  Lai took the wheel without responding and carried it outside. She didn’t want to know about the dead men, especially not the ones she had killed.

  Chapter Six

  They were on the road again within an hour, Lai riding a few feet ahead of the caravan, straining her ears for any hint of trouble.

  Evening came and Calvin led the wagon to a clearing off the road so they could rest. He built a fire while Lai groomed their horses. Once the flames were crackling merrily he came to watch her work, his face fascinated like a small child.

  “Your mare is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Calvin said. “Where did you find her?”

  Lai set down the body brush and ran her fingers through Maia’s mane, reaching deep into her memories for the right words. “Back home she is like any other horse.”

  Calvin’s eyes widened. “Where is home?”

  She frowned. He sounded excited, like he wanted to go there now and get one
of their horses, but her people would never sell someone like him their precious horses. They cut ties with the northerners when Valasharn fell for a reason.

  “South of the desert.” She cleared her throat. “I cannot take you there.”

  “Why? Did you steal the horse?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. Maia belonged to her, but her clothes, her weapons, those belonged to the temple.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Calvin smiled. “You are escorting me home, not the other way around.”

  He disappeared into the wagon and returned with two large tankards, shoving one into her hand.

  “Some ale will help you forget your worries.” He tapped the side of his tankard against hers and took a large swig of his drink. “That was a toast, you’re supposed to drink too.”

  Lai sniffed at the ale and grimaced. “I know what a toast is, but what is this?”

  “It’s better than it smells, trust me.” He drank another large gulp. “Besides, we don’t have anything else to drink.”

  Lai gaped at him openly. What kind of fool traveled without water? Being drunk on the road was dangerous.

  “What? I only drink this much on the road.” Calvin belched. “Can’t drink while I’m working, you know.”

  She sighed but drank the ale anyway. What little water she had left was best left for morning, and really, the ale wasn’t as bad as it smelled, although it was awfully thick. She had no idea how anyone could drink as much of it as Calvin, who was on his way back to the wagon for more.

  Dinner consisted of dried meat and lentils, although Calvin hardly touched his, too busy filling his stomach with ale.

  “The ale in my home city is much sweeter,” Calvin said, glaring into his tankard. “I’m tired of this bitter stuff from the capitol.”

  “Does everyone in Alanum drink this stuff?” Lai asked.

  “Ale keeps life interesting.” Calvin’s brow furrowed. “What do your people drink?”

  “Water and wine.” Lai busied herself with her food, hoping he wouldn’t ask more questions. Every answer felt like a tiny stab in the heart.

  “What is wine?”

  “It makes you happy like ale, but it tastes fruity and bitter.”

  Calvin grinned. “Your home sounds like a wonderful place.”

  “It is.” She abandoned any pretense of finishing her food and gulped down the last of her ale, eager to end the conversation. “I’ll be in my tent if you need me.”

  “You could sleep with me,” he said, winking.

  Lai suppressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think about this man touching her. “I prefer sleeping alone.”

  Heavy drops of rain pelted down from the sky, soaking Lai through her clothes. She held one arm over her head to keep the hood of her cloak away from her eyes. The material had grown impossibly heavy after several hours of this deluge. The wet and cold had bitten all the way through to her bones long ago, making her teeth chatter.

  She glanced at the darkening sky and nudged Maia away from the road, towards one of the campsites Calvin had shown her on his map. The ground here had become dangerously muddy, but Lai pressed on. Camping too close to the road was even more dangerous.

  The rain came to an abrupt halt moments before they reached the campsite, a clearing surrounded by a ring of ancient trees. In the center of the clearing someone had already dug a fire pit and ringed it with stones, although rain had made it a pool of muddy ash.

  She tied the horses up and hurried into the caravan for dry clothes.

  “You know you’re always welcome to ride in here,” Calvin said, winking.

  “I prefer horseback.”

  Calvin threw his hands up in the air. “You are a strange woman.”

  She stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve never met a woman so uninterested in my wealth,” he said.

  “I used to have wealth of my own,” she said. “It didn’t make me happy.”

  The wealth had been Pa’s, but the second part was true. She would have given up everything they owned for a second chance at priestesshood.

  “Lai?”

  Calvin waved one stubby hand in front of her face and Lai caught his wrist, digging into the pressure points on either side with her thumb and forefinger. He squealed and she let him go.

  “I was going to say you could change in here,” he said, rubbing his wrist. “I’ll brush the horses tonight.”

  He scowled at her and grabbed the bucket that served as his grooming kit. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he shook his head and left, slamming the door behind him.

  Lai changed as quickly as she could, picked up two logs from Calvin’s pile of firewood, and went back outside. She knelt by the fire pit and held one hand out over it, palm flat and fingers stretched as far as they would go. She focused on heat, a burst of flame strong enough to dry the mud. A yellow stream of hot light flowed from her palm, into the earth.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” Calvin asked, his voice filled with awe.

  Lai closed her palm to end the stream and turned to face the merchant. “Is magic not common here?”

  Calvin’s eyebrows shot into his forehead. “Definitely not. The few mages we do have are bound to the noble council,” he said. “Most are brought into service as children.”

  Lai’s stomach churned. Perhaps she should not have come here after all. But it’s too late now. She could not go home.

  “We should keep your gifts secret,” Calvin went on. “I don’t want someone thinking I stole you.”

  “You make it sound like the nobles own these mages.”

  “They might as well be. Do your people have blood oaths?”

  Lai scowled. Blood oaths bound mages to their masters permanently; any betrayal would instantly kill them, and they almost always died when their masters did. “They were forbidden decades ago.”

  “They’re rather popular here,” Calvin said. “Especially for mages.”

  Lai stared at her little fire, remembering all the terrible stories her people told about blood oaths. What have I gotten myself into?

  Each month she traveled with Calvin, Lai’s nightmares grew worse, and every month she liked both him and Alanum less. But she saw no other path forward, no place worth stopping, no way to serve her goddesses better. So she kept traveling with him through this miserable land, trying to drink the nightmares away and almost always failing.

  They arrived in Calvin’s home city as the last autumn leaves fell from the trees. The buildings were boring rectangles of gray stone, but the steady stream of people heading towards the city center wore an astonishing variety of bright, colorful clothes.

  At the center of the city stood a magnificent temple, its arched roof standing far above the other buildings, massive glass windows glittering in the sunlight. Oaken doors had dozens of runes carefully carved into them, covering every inch of their surface.

  Northerners had a strange kind of faith: they said they believed very strongly in a god, but they only had one and they didn’t really act like they believed in him. They built many monuments in his honor, but consistently ignored his teachings. She had never even caught Calvin or his new guards praying.

  Calvin’s manor was not far past the temple. A massive garden surrounded it, filled with fruit trees she had never seen before. The house itself had clearly been white once but was now gray. It stood three storeys tall and three yards wide.

  “My family has owned it for centuries,” Calvin said as they approached the house, his voice thick with pride. He had abandoned his other guards in the last town and taken over guiding the caravan. “The boys are in charge of business here now.”

  “The boys?” She had never heard him mention a family.

  “My sons, of course.”

  As if he had been waiting for that exact moment, a yo
ung man dressed entirely in black appeared in the entrance of the stables. He stood easily twice Calvin’s height, but he had the same black hair, rounded chin and beady brown eyes as his father.

  He bowed to Calvin, then straightened up and stared at Lai, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Where’s Alex?” he asked, stepping out of the temple. “Tobias?”

  Calvin shook his head. “Killed by bandits. This woman saved me from them—and many more.”

  “So you brought her to protect the house?”

  Calvin’s expression changed from exasperation to fear faster than Lai would have imagined possible. “Did something happen while I was away?”

  “Not this time,” the young man said. He still hadn’t taken his gaze off Lai. “I just wanted to know why she’s here.”

  His tone was so venomous Lai had to look away from him. Clearly he knew about his father’s penchant for tavern wenches.

  “I owe her my life, Talyn,” Calvin said. “And she has nowhere else to go.” He cleared his throat. “Where is Branden?”

  “Making a marriage proposal. He’ll return soon enough.”

  The boy stepped out of their way, watching them as if they might do something wrong at any moment. Lai tightened her grip on Maia’s reins. This is going to be a miserable winter.

  Lai wanted nothing more than to hide in the room Calvin gave her, but he insisted that she attend dinner with his family. She spent the afternoon scrubbing stains out of her best clothes and braiding her hair. The clothes were still wet when she headed to the dining hall.

  It took all of her willpower not to gape openly at the feast laid out on Calvin’s ebony table. There were over half a dozen dishes, all heaped with massive stacks of food. One platter held several small and round orange vegetables Lai didn’t recognize stuffed with meat. An ancient woman with a hunched back was still setting out silver platters of meat drenched in different sauces.