by Jann Rowland
“Did you not say they followed you here?”
“They might have,” Gusty spoke up, “but we’ve had to stay close to the ground, as we’ve been trying to find you and did not want to miss you.”
“I think this is our best chance,” Skye said.
Surprisingly, Skye found an ally in Jasper, who said, “I think this is the only viable option before us, Your Majesty.”
“I say let’s get to it now,” Skye said, hefting his bow in one hand.
Sequoia snorted. “My people have been fighting yours for generations. Do you think two Skychildren can hope to face a company of men?”
“They have been fighting my people, yes. But they have never fought Skychildren working together with Groundbreathers. You and Jasper will be alongside us, as will any villagers who wish to support you. You can destroy any ground-cages that spring up around us. Half the battle will be won right there.”
“Very well,” Sequoia said. “I suppose we are decided. I hope you Skychildren have enough arrows in your quivers. I have a feeling this fight will not be a quick one.”
“You need not worry about me and Gusty,” Skye said. “Arrows or no arrows, we’ll be an asset in this fight. I can promise you that.”
The armed men had already descended on the town when Skye and his company exited the small home. The men were in Iron Sword garb, with loose tunics and chainmail, yet they differentiated themselves from Iron Swords by wearing a red band on their arm—Wisteria’s attempt to stand out, no doubt. The garms at their sides looked as fierce as ever.
The villagers who had been guarding the outside were facing the newcomers fearlessly in spite of the fact that they had no armor themselves.
“This is your last warning,” one of the villagers told the Iron Swords before him. His face was hard and brooked no opposition. “Leave this place now.”
The Groundbreather that the villagers faced was well-known to Skye, who had gone up against the man with Wisteria goading him on. But the Groundbreather’s appearance was changed due to Skye’s last encounter with him. The man was still bald, his shiny head reflecting the light of the sun overhead, and he still bore an almost fanatical light in his eyes, but there was now a long and puckered scar extending up from the edge of his cheek, clipping the corner of his mouth, and moving up to the corner of one eye. That eye had turned a milky white, proving that Skye’s sword had caught enough of it to extinguish the light in it forever. If his appearance had been forbidding before, now Scythe looked positively macabre.
“We will not leave without Queen Sequoia. You must give her to us. We shall not harm her.”
The villager growled, “I would rather stuff my face full of bird droppings than hand over—”
“Easy, cousin,” Sequoia said, reaching out a hand and placing it on the man’s shoulder. “Let me speak to them. Perhaps they may be reasoned with. Some of the Iron Swords before us were once my men, after all.”
As she stepped forward, Jasper remained right beside her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He seemed aggravated that the queen was putting herself closer to harm’s way, and Skye watched his overprotectiveness with mild amusement.
“You are my daughter’s soldiers,” Sequoia said. She spoke with the flatness of someone stating a point that was both true and disappointing.
“Yes,” Scythe said. If he picked up on her tone, he did not address it. “With the death of King Tillman, she is the rightful ruler. Her soldiers now follow the orders she gives, and she has ordered the return of her mother to her. We are here to do as she has commanded.”
“You would support regicide?” Skye asked with a disgusted look as he moved to stand near Sequoia. “I would’ve expected even you to be more principled than that, Pikestaff.”
The man started, and his one good eye honed in on Skye as he scowled fiercely, the movement pulling at the jagged edges of his scar. The effect on his face was fearsome, as it twisted his scarred skin into a monstrous snarl. “You will be coming with us as well, Skychild. After all, I still owe you for this,” he said, pointing at the long line of angry red up the side of his face. “I will enjoy ripping the pelt off your bird-loving frame.”
Skye snorted, unimpressed, and Scythe continued, “As for the loss of the king, that was an unfortunate occurrence. Everyone associated with the castle has been affected by his death, but there has been no connection proven between the death of King Tillman and the ascension of his heir.”
“That’s because Wisteria probably killed anyone who tried to speak against her,” Skye scoffed.
Sequoia gave him a sharp look—no doubt as a reprimand for Skye involving himself in something she considered to be her province—and then returned her focus to the leader. “I will admit that I am unaware of the full extent of Wisteria’s involvement in this whole mess, but the fact remains that I am the dowager queen and should be afforded some respect. My daughter would not wish you to lay hands on me. I command you to let me go.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Look, Pikestaff,” Skye said, infusing his voice with every hint of contempt he could muster, “you should just leave, as the queen will not be going anywhere with you. I know you seem to possess all the intelligence of the pointy instrument you are named after, but even you should be intelligent enough to understand the situation. Slither back to your mistress and use equally small words to inform her of her mother’s refusal to bow down to her.”
Scythe’s good eye blazed, but he refused to be goaded by Skye’s insulting words.
“We have been instructed to take you by force if necessary,” Scythe ground out. “It will be easiest for us all if you come without protest. We would rather not resort to violence.”
“Well, I am afraid your preference shall not be met,” Sequoia said right before she caused the soil to fly upward at the man’s feet.
Skye and Gusty shot up into the air. Ground cages popped up half a breath later where they had been standing. On the ground, visibility was hazy due to the clouds of dirt that had been stirred up.
A snarl resounded throughout the village as Stone leaped at an Iron Sword who had approached too close to Sequoia. The man cried out as the garm’s jaws connected.
Skye sent a couple gusts at an Iron Sword who was shooting clods of earth toward Sequoia with a manic frequency. The man was buffeted backward and looked up with a glare.
“Sorry,” Skye mumbled insincerely as he cocked an arrow and sent it flying at the man’s shoulder.
The man shouted and fell to the ground. His hand grasped at the arrow in his flesh.
A column of earth sprang up. Skye, distracted by his downing of the Groundbreather, almost failed to dodge in time to avoid being knocked into unconsciousness. His feet were clipped by the pillar, however, and it caused him to wobble a little in the air.
As a result, the rock that flew at his forehead caught him utterly off-guard. He cursed at the impact and gusted away higher into the air, lifting a hand to his head in pain. The hand came back wet, and he grimaced at the bright scarlet glistening on his fingers.
Skye circled around the battlefield, gritting his teeth and trying to conceive of an appropriate plan of attack. His wound was not enough to slow him down while his blood was pumping furiously, but it was going to hurt later.
“You all right, Skye?” Gusty called.
“I’m fine,” Skye said with a grunt. That had been a stupid misstep, and he was going to be more careful. Every half-second in battle was important. “How about a wall of wind to beat these muckswallowers back?”
“Sure thing,” Gusty said, moving through the air to hover near Skye. “You ready?”
Skye looked down at the Groundbreathers and garms facing off against Sequoia and her protectors. He thought they were suitably distracted. “On three,” he said quietly. “One. Two. Three!”
In tandem, Skye and Gusty sent a massive wall of wind flying forward at the enemy Groundbreathers and garms.
Unfortunately, one G
roundbreather cried out in time to warn his fellows, and they pulled up earth over their feet to keep them grounded in place. As a result, though the force of the wind hit them hard, only the garms and a couple of Iron Swords found themselves flung back.
Sequoia glanced up at Skye with a hint of smugness in her demeanor. No doubt “I told you so” was itching to escape her lips.
Skye gestured at Wisteria’s Groundbreathers and shouted, “A little help would be nice. The positioning of their feet needs a little work, if you know what I mean.”
Her attention was caught by a surge of rocks that was hurled toward her, but after she warded off the attack, she spoke a few sharp words to Jasper, who gave a curt nod and moved to speak to some of the queen’s other protectors.
Then Sequoia raised her hand in the air, holding it above her head as she continued to face an onslaught of earth focused on her by a number of foes. The earth at the feet of her enemies began to crack.
Taking that as his cue, Skye looked to Gusty, who was shooting off a few whirlwinds to distract the men aiming to harm Sequoia. “Let’s try this again, Gusty.”
“Ready when you are, Skye!” Gusty said.
“One! Two! Three!” Skye said, reaching down deep for any reserves of energy.
This time, the effect was much more gratifying, as the soil around the Groundbreathers’ feet crumbled to dust, and they were hurled back. Skye gestured with one hand, and a whirlwind sprang up from the dust. An Iron Sword became caught up in it. The man shrieked as the wind drew him higher and higher into the air until he was finally flung from its midst, to crash down against a tree heavily. The man did not move again.
The swirling wind buffeted the other Iron Swords where they lay in heaps. They quickly reorganized themselves, and a few flung stones up toward Skye and Gusty. The stones were easily deflected. Then Sequoia’s guards descended on the enemy Groundbreathers, and they had no time to react.
Knowing that any further displays of Skychild powers would affect Sequoia’s men, Skye waved at Gusty. “Bows out!”
Sighting along his newly nocked arrow, Skye released it, guiding it with his powers until it bloomed in the chest of a man fighting beside the leader. The man screamed and went down.
Following Skye’s lead, Gusty drew his own bow, and the two Skychildren rained death down upon the attackers. The Groundbreathers cursed and tried to respond as the garms ran around in a frenzy, but the few Groundbreather archers they had were not as skilled as their Skychildren tormentors. Furthermore, any responding fire they directed at Skye and Gusty was immediately deflected.
The scream of a griffin caught Skye’s attention, and he looked up, noting Nimbus astride one of the creatures, with Griffin and Vesper following. A flash of color in the sky showed Strix to be nearby.
The newly arrived Skychildren dove at the Iron Swords from behind. The griffins screeched as they swooped down with their riders.
With that, the Iron Swords’ fight left them, and it became a rout. A few managed to flee the town with some garms, but they left many of their dead behind. A few were actually captured. The scarred Scythe was one of them.
“Who are you?” Sequoia demanded of the man.
Skye and Gusty alighted on the ground and approached the small group. A number of Sequoia’s men were checking the wounded for weapons and taking them from anyone who still appeared able to fight. Fortunately, the few uninjured garms appeared to understand the need to stand down. The bodies of a few dead villagers could be seen among those of the Iron Swords, but in all, Sequoia’s side in the fight had suffered few casualties. From a nearby hut, a woman emerged, and as she approached the nearest of the injured, Skye realized she must have been the village healer.
“I do not remember you,” Sequoia continued. “I know by sight all of the Iron Swords stationed at the castle. Furthermore, this name that the Skychild called you—Pikestaff—is one I do not recognize.”
The man scowled. “The Skychild has a glib tongue which I shall one day cut from his head. My name is Scythe.”
“I recognize that name no more than I do the other.”
“I am a man, nothing more,” the scarred man growled. “Where I am from is no business of yours.”
“I am your queen,” Sequoia declared coldly. “You will obey me.”
“You are not my queen. You will get nothing from me.”
“Your Majesty,” Skye said in an urgent tone, “this man attacked me at the castle on Wisteria’s orders. That he is some thug recruited by Wisteria is all you need to know. We don’t have time for a full interrogation. His men could be back at any time with reinforcements. We should leave.”
“Yes, leave, Skychild craven,” the scarred man growled. He spat at Skye’s feet. “We will catch up with you eventually. And you will not like it when we do.”
“Hah!” Skye snorted. “I do not fear you or Wisteria. If you ever see that useless muckswallower again, you may tell her she can try to wreak her vengeance on me anytime she likes.”
Skye turned to Sequoia, noting the way she regarded him as though she were not certain of him—Wisteria was her daughter, after all, regardless of what had happened—but he did not address her look and instead told her, “It’s time to leave.”
Sequoia watched him for several moments before turning to one of the nearby men. “Take this man and his cohorts away with you and make for our agreed-upon meeting place. We will join you as soon as we can. See if you can try to get anything more out of him.”
The man nodded and began to issue orders. Sequoia called Stone to her and followed Skye and Gusty to where the Cloud Sentinels were waiting with Strix and their griffin mounts. Jasper also appeared and walked over to them.
“Your Majesty,” Griffin said to Skye as he approached. In the meantime, Vesper was trying to calm the battle-addled griffins, and Nimbus was watching Skye’s Groundbreather companions, his mouth a thin and disapproving line.
“We should leave here as quickly as possible,” Skye said to the party.
“What is that bird doing in your midst?” Sequoia asked, eyeing the brightly colored Strix. The bird was perched on Stardust’s saddle and gazing back at her.
Though amused that the queen did not recognize the Groundbreathers’ former living heirloom in its current form, Skye said only, “There will be time enough for explanations concerning him later. For now, Your Majesty, your griffin awaits you.”
“What of Stone?” Sequoia asked, breaking her gaze away from the bird to look down at her own animal companion. “We cannot leave him behind.”
Skye frowned and considered the garm, who was too large to hold. The beast’s tongue lolled out of its mouth, and he padded up to the Skychild, rubbing his head against Skye’s leg.
Skye chuckled and reached down to scratch the creature’s ears.
“We can carry him on the winds, I suppose,” Skye said. “It will take a bit of energy to do that, but if we pass the garm around between us, it should be doable.”
Sequoia looked skeptical. “Are you sure you can do it safely? I would prefer to arrive at our destination with a living garm.”
Grinning, Skye only said, “Trust me.”
It was readily evident that trust was not a quality the queen possessed in abundance, but she assented, though she did so with worry in her eyes. Skye nodded at her and mounted Stardust. Within moments, they were off.
The travels of Terrain were long and encompassed many years by the reckoning of man, and when he had seen all, he was content that everything had been done as he had designed. A large forest, one through which Terrain had passed some time before, appeared before him, and he sat under a tree to rest with the ever-faithful Stone at his side, the garm’s massive head lying on Terrain’s lap.
When Terrain had rested for some time, the forest parted, and Arboran the forest god walked through, greeting Terrain with reverence.
“That garm at your side is mighty and lively,” said Arboran the forest god. “My trees are lonely with no
one to spread their seeds and take cover under their branches. Might you fill this place with life?”
Terrain saw the wisdom of the forest god’s words, and he called the other gods to him. When he explained his purpose, the gods he had created rejoiced. Together, they gathered soil from the ground, mixed it with the clearest blue waters of the mountains and the air of the swiftest winds, and imbued it with the purest fire of the great mountains. They brought forth all manner of ground-dwelling creatures of different sizes, and Terrain guided the other gods in their final formations. And seeing that they would need to be spread across all the land, he created the god Faun to guide the animals to their new homes and tend to them. Then Terrain breathed life into them, granting them their own sense of purpose.
And the gods fell to their knees and praised Terrain.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Fauna
“Just who is Jasper?”
Sequoia gave Skye her typical hard look, but she did not respond, making Skye annoyed with her all over again. Of course, annoyance with Sequoia was a state he knew well. It was perhaps the most innocuous feeling he had ever possessed for her.
The woman continued to be at her irascible best. The journey from the village to the Groundbreather town had taken most of a day, and it was a long and tiring day for the Skychildren, forced as they were to hold Stone in the air for extended periods of time. If Skye had been the sole Skychild on the journey, it would not have been possible, as only a half-hour into the journey had brought sweat to his brow and sapped his strength. It was only because the five Skychildren had taken turns supporting the animal that they had been able to accomplish it. Skye found that he was able to hold up Stone the longest. Vesper, unfortunately, had only managed it for a few minutes before tiring, though Skye suspected her lack of endurance was in large part due to some of her recent late nights trying to calm the griffins. The others were somewhere in between; surprisingly, Gusty had come the closest to Skye in strength.