“If you start showing yourself to have some worth, that is what I offer,” Callum nodded. “My patience wears thin, so if you’re going to comply, I recommend you do so quickly or I will retract the proposition and kill you now. The choice is yours. You have until the count of ten to give your decision.”
“Hold on just a minute –”
“One.”
“I need a moment to think on this.”
“Two.”
“Are you serious in what you say?”
“Three,” Callum’s brow rose in response to the question, saying nothing. It wasn’t necessary for him to give further confirmation. Through the silence Edric could see Naphul thinking hard, his thoughts broken by Callum’s persistent voice. “Four.”
“The information you ask for has been kept secret for generations of Ythes warriors.”
“Five.” Callum carefully drew a dagger from his belt, tilting the blade to play off the umber glow still radiating from his other hand. He took a step forward to close the gap between them once again. A flash of what almost looked to be fear flickered in Naphul’s eyes, his shackled hands rising to try and keep distance between them.
“The Komoan Chief came to the leader of the Ythes and requested a weapon be fashioned. It was believed the Avaern could only be killed in a specific way but it was pure speculation. No one knew whether it would actually work.”
The hard lines of Callum’s face softened to hear Naphul speak, a smile of content crossing his lips, lowering the dagger back down, though refraining from returning it to its sheath. “That’s better,” he nodded. “Tell me about this weapon. Spare no details. If I start to think you are withholding information, I will resume the count – and you don’t have much time left.”
“It is said that around the time the Avaern first appeared, a large meteor had struck in the northwestern lands of Ethrysta. Our people have always been highly religious and they believed this a sign from the gods, though of what, no one knew. When the Avaern showed itself, it was immediately assumed it was somehow linked with the meteor; that the gods had sent the Avaern to Myatheira as a test of our strength and devotion. The sheer size of the beast alone was enough to bring fear into the hearts of the bravest Ovatai warriors. Attempts were made at destroying the creature but everything failed. Eventually the Chief came to the conclusion that if the Avaern was in fact linked with the meteor, the material the remnants of the space stone was comprised of might hold the secret to the creature’s destruction. Having never seen the rock for himself, the Chief approached the Ythes, knowing it was said to be somewhere in the western lands where my ancestors dwelled, their familiarity with the area making them a necessary ally.”
In his hands Edric felt Neomi’s squirming slowly start to ease. Under the cover of the shadows he let his arm slide around her waist, holding her against him, the action seeming natural despite the hostility which had separated them for the past few days. She made no move to push him away, leaning into his arms, their eyes locked intently on Naphul as he continued to speak.
“A powerful shaman was tasked with forging the weapon once the rock was discovered. All other weapons had failed against the beast and they needed something which would be large enough and strong enough to penetrate the Avaern’s thick hide. In order to accomplish this, the shaman infused the spear-like blade with his own spirit, sacrificing his life for the sake of everyone in Ethrysta. It is said that the weapon needed to strike a mortal blow for the magic to work on the beast. The spear was entrusted to the leader of the Ythes who planned a flawless attack, luring the Avaern to the base of the mountains which once made up the lands where the village of Isavo has stood for years. He took his shot but regrettably failed to impale the creature with the power required to finish the beast once and for all. Instead, it is said the Avaern somehow drew power from the magic inside the blade where it was lodged, sucking the shaman’s spirit from the blade and into itself. The strength of the beast grew but the shaman’s magic managed to overpower it. Struggling internally against the spirit, the Avaern thrashed about, wreaking destruction on the area – its powerful body too much against the base of the mountains, bringing the place down around it, destroying the lives of the poor, unfortunate warriors who happened to linger too close to the beast when the spirit finally managed to lull it to a state of deep unconsciousness. The Ythes leader, unsure of what had caused the strange reaction in the beast, approached the fallen form of the Avaern, retrieving the weapon from where it was lodged shallowly into the thick chest. He realized the error of his strike but the shaman had done enough. The leader ordered the rest of the land leveled by his warriors, burying the remains of the Avaern underground in hopes that if it was kept deep enough, it might never awaken. It took months – maybe years – to accomplish the task. Isavo was built over the Avaern’s resting place, becoming home to the tribe’s strongest warriors to watch over its grave.”
“And the weapon,” Callum urged him on. “What was done with the weapon?”
“It was hidden,” Naphul shrugged. “We had our victory. There was no sense in letting the Chief become aware that it hadn’t worked exactly to our plan. The head of the Ythes had it placed in the depths of a cave near the site of the meteor’s impact. By that time the shaman’s energy had been completely drained from the blade so it was more a useless artifact. It could be revived, but there was no reason to do so as long as the Avaern was safely slumbering under the control of the shaman.”
“What of Emakai, then? He operated under the assumption that he could somehow conjure the beast from its sleep?”
“He was a direct descendant of the shaman whose spirit was joined with the Avaern. His link to such a powerful Ythes made him a likely candidate for leadership and none of us doubted his ability to communicate with the dead, knowing the creature still lived with Emakai’s very blood inside it.”
Nodding his head, Callum returned the dagger to its sheath, easing his stance somewhat, granting Naphul reprieve from the fear of death at Callum’s hands. “If the Avaern is to be slain, is it safe to assume we need to locate the weapon your ancestors hid to conceal the truth?”
Naphul laughed quietly, amused by the notion. “Locate it, yes. But you would not like what would be required in order to empower it the way those warriors did back then.”
“Someone would have to sacrifice their life,” Edric cut in quietly, surprised to hear his own voice speaking the words out loud. It was a private musing. One he hadn’t intended to make known. But with the thought already laid out between them, he was anxious to hear if Naphul would confirm the gruesome possibility.
“You Vor’shai are quicker than I thought,” Naphul chortled. “There are stories told by the old Ythes of what the weapon was capable of when imbued with such magic. Tales of the destruction it is capable of at its height of power. But it is useless against the Avaern unless the blade penetrates the beast fully. Anything short of certain death from the wound risks the creature taking in the new energy, strengthening it, making it more powerful than it already is.”
Callum bowed his head, deep in thought. Edric could only imagine what was going through his mind. It was all so much to take in. His own head swam from the details Naphul presented, frightened by the possibility of what they would have to do in order to defeat the beast. Someone would have to die. If what Naphul said was true, there would be no avoiding that fact. The question was who. Would there be an Ovatai willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for their people the way the shaman did so long ago?
A new fear came over him, his fingers sliding further around Neomi’s waist to draw her closer. His heart sank to consider the possibility that Neomi might offer herself for the task. She was one of the most loyal warriors Edric had ever seen. Duty had been her reason for taking chase after the Avaern when she believed it the wish of her father and brother. That journey was practically suicide and yet she accepted it with incredible bravery. There was nothing to say that she wouldn’t do the same now. I won
’t let her. Regardless of how little control he possessed over her, he wouldn’t back down on this matter. Neomi couldn’t be allowed to take the task. She had sacrificed too much as it was. Someone else could carry this burden.
Idly Callum thumbed the handle of his dagger, casting an occasional glance in Naphul’s direction. “Do you know the location of this weapon? Or perhaps the cave where it is said to have been placed?”
“To the far west. North of Ilaka. No one other than the Ythes dare tread the territory. Our warriors are said to have taken up watch over the cave for years, killing anyone who comes near. As a foreigner, you will never escape their notice. However, if you were to grant me the freedom you offered in exchange for my knowledge, I could lead you there. I could see you given safe passage to the weapon you seek.”
“How do I know they wouldn’t kill you?” Callum challenged, narrowing his eyes to peer hard at Naphul. “You have been gone for some time. By now your people likely think you dead.”
“They will do as I order. Next to Emakai, I was the strongest of the Isavo warriors,” he smirked. “It was with my help that Emakai plotted the initial attack which took the Komoa by surprise. My name is known amongst my people. You have made a wise decision in choosing me as an ally instead of your enemy.”
With a flick of his wrist Callum ordered Edric to step back, motioning him toward the door. “Take her back to her cell. We shouldn’t risk her getting it in her head to try and escape when we are so close.”
“Wait!” Naphul’s voice rang through the small room, catching Edric’s attention before he could move away. The devious look had returned to Naphul’s eyes, rekindling the uneasiness Edric had only just started to suppress. “You promised compensation for the debt this woman owes me. I must insist that I be repaid before I proceed further in our business.”
“You are to be named Chief. Is that not enough?” Edric stared at him, gently tugging Neomi further from the man’s grasp. There was something in his eyes which told Edric his intentions were more than what he implied.
“If you seek financial gain, she has no coin. The fortune of the It’aryn family has long been in my control since the Avaern relieved Okivra of life.” Callum gave another wave of his hand, the motion performed with greater insistence than before. “We will discuss your arrangement in more detail after she is returned to her cell and you have been taken to the surface. You are in no condition to lead us anywhere as you are.”
“Oh, this is more than coin,” Naphul took a step forward, extending a slender arm toward Neomi. “She owes me something far more enjoyable than wealth.”
“I will give you nothing,” Neomi spat. “You were nothing but a tool.”
“And that is all you will be for me as well.”
“I would sooner throw myself on my own blade than let you touch me.”
Naphul threw his head back in raucous laughter. “You see, Vor’shai? There is fire in her yet! Allow me to break her. She would be a fine addition to the servants at my disposal.”
“This one should not be trusted outside of her shackles,” Callum nudged Edric closer to the door.
“I am not afraid of her,” Naphul smiled. “It was a gratifying experience to run my sword through her husband. If she gets out of line, I would take great pleasure in seeing she join him in the underworld.”
In a flurry of motion Edric found himself suddenly empty-handed, Neomi’s lithe figure twisting gracefully from his grasp. Frantic, he tried to regain control of her, hindered by the dim light of the room, the glow of Callum’s energy directed on Naphul, leaving the rest of the area in shadow. A scrape from Edric’s side signaled him to what Neomi was doing, his voice crying out, desperate to stop her. His sword. She had it in her hands, the sound of her battle cry ringing in his ears. Everything happened as if in slow motion though he knew time continued as it was. Neomi’s body lunged in a powerful strike, the tip of Edric’s blade piercing through Naphul’s chest with a sickening crunch, his torso jarred from the force, doubled over Neomi’s arms. She held her stance firm, her gentle features contorted in an expression of pure hatred and rage.
The strike was well-aimed, performed with masterful precision. Callum’s arm reached for Neomi, coming to rest on her shoulder seconds too late, the blow already executed, unable to be taken back. A strained groan escaped Naphul with his final breath. Edric watched in horror as the body slumped to the ground at Neomi’s feet, her hand withdrawing the sword to let him fall to the floor with a dull thud.
“Neomi,” he gasped, stepping forward to snatch his sword from her hand. She released her hold on it. There was no reason to fight him when the deed was already done. “It wasn’t decided upon for him to die. What if we needed him? What if your father intended a different fate?”
“Then I will take it up with my father when the subject arises,” she replied quietly. Her actions had given the impression of a woman overtaken by emotion though everything about her now showed an otherworldly calm, her eyes scanning the area, the tips of her wolf-like ears twitching, searching for a sound which might alert her to the presence of anyone outside the cell. “We have taken too much time. Moinie will be returning soon with my brother and if we are found here, it will undo everything you have worked to achieve since your arrival. Help me free my legs so I can guide you elsewhere. I will think of a story to tell my father which will rid you of any blame that might fall upon your heads.”
“Naphul is dead. It will be hard to convince him that we had nothing to do with it,” Callum argued. All traces of the cruel mercenary disappeared, the soft calm returning to his voice as he spoke. “Let’s get out of here and then try to think of a story which will be the least incriminating. If Moinie has gone in search of your brother, lies may not be possible.”
“They will be less possible if you do not free my feet so we can move,” she hissed. Impatiently she crouched forward, tugging on the shackles in an attempt to slide her ankle free. Her attempts were futile. Through the haze of Edric’s thoughts he knew she wouldn’t be able to get loose without his help. There had been a key with the shackles when they found them on the ground. Fumbling over his pockets he searched for where he put it, waving for Callum to bring the light of his hand forward, exhaling in relief to feel the tiny piece of metal against his fingertips.
Callum’s light was darkened by their shadows, causing Edric to struggle while searching for the lock on the chains. When it finally slid into place he thought his heart would burst from his chest from anticipation, his hands trembling as he helped remove the cuffs from Neomi’s ankles.
She didn’t give Edric a chance to rid her of the shackles around her wrists. Pushing past him, she moved into the corridor, eyes locked straight ahead, paying no attention to whether the men were behind her. Instinctively Edric fell into step at her heels, not wanting to be left behind in this place they knew nothing about. He had been too distracted on their way to the prison. Memorizing the path back had been the furthest thing from his mind.
Their progress was slowed by the darkness, the light from Callum’s hand winking out of existence in their hurry to reach the stairs. Edric was certain he would have fallen on his face without the wall to guide him, listening for Neomi’s steps up ahead, guiding them swiftly through the narrow hall. When they reached the stairs he found himself breathless, reminded of the claustrophobic feeling which had plagued him before. In his haste, the pressure became worse, gasping for air, knowing he was taking in the breath he needed but his mind seemed convinced it wasn’t enough.
His panic heightened to recognize the sound of voices coming from somewhere in the distance. The twists and turns of the hall made it impossible to judge the distance between them and the others. They were trapped. Moinie would find a way to block them in, preventing them from having a chance to calm themselves and prepare for whatever punishment Onuric would bestow upon them for going against orders. Through the chaos of his mind, however, he realized the one detail which would work to their benefit. O
kivra’s orders had been for Neomi to stay away from the prisoner. He said nothing about Callum and Edric. It was the only card they had to play if it came down to a draw.
Out of the darkness a hand suddenly grabbed onto the sleeve of Edric’s doublet, jerking him harshly into another corridor, his hand reflexively reaching to pull Callum along with him. The new passage was a tighter fit than the main hall. It was all Edric could do to keep from running back out, swallowing hard to force himself onward. The gentle pressure of Neomi’s hand in his was the only indication of which way to go, weaving through the narrow corridor until they came to a break, a slight chill coursing over Edric’s skin upon stepping into a wider hallway, the soft glow from Neomi’s body illuminating the area around them. Snow was once again visible, mixed with the dark soil of the walls. They had bypassed the main hall, no longer hearing the voices which had signaled their almost certain failure.
Slowing their pace Neomi guided them back to the main corridors of the home, pausing in front of a curtained doorway with a hesitant glance ahead. Her hand lifted to motion them onward, staring down at the chains as they rattled from the movement of her arms, reminding her of their weight against her wrists. “The key,” she stated quietly, clearly cautious of not being overheard.
Obediently Edric retrieved the key, working to remove the cuffs. The mere brush of his fingers against her skin sent his heart racing. He was confused, now more than ever, in regards to what their relationship was. It was an ever-changing thing, shifting to drastic extremes, although now he felt they were somewhere in the middle. He longed to have the days in Isavo back. Where their only concern was concealing the truth from Moinie. Since Ewei’s arrival to the village everything had been out of control, spiraling faster and faster until they seemed to reach the plateau which left them both awkward and silent in each other’s company.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 76