by Franc Ingram
“Jump! I got you,” Daycia urged, making sure she was squarely under her.
Paley looked at the climb, then at Daycia’s waiting arms. She shut her eyes tight and let go. Daycia braced herself. She caught Paley, and before she could even straighten up the younger woman was out of her arms and running. Daycia scrambled to follow.
Daycia spotted daylight before the explosion behind them rocked the ground beneath her feet. Without thinking, Daycia grabbed Paley, folding the younger woman under her body as snow and ice came crashing over them. Daycia curled her arms around Paley’s head, protecting her as best she could, and praying they would see daylight again.
100101
Daycia sat bolt upright, forcing her eyes to focus in the dim light. She didn’t remember how she got on her back, or as a matter of fact, how she got free of the rubble that fell down on her head. She did remember the pain in her back and chest, the pressure on her lungs, and the screams of her apprentice.
“Paley!” Daycia called in a panic.
“It's okay, she’s in the other room resting,” replied a low, familiar voice. “This is becoming a pattern with you.”
Daycia turned and found herself looking up at a friendly face. Zyair’s dark brown eyes cracked her open like a rusted can. How she found herself in a hospital room, bandaged and bruised for the second time in four days, she didn’t know, but she had to count herself lucky for surviving again.
“Zyair, I’m sorry. If you laid eyes on what we saw, you would have done the same. We had no choice. I didn’t mean to countermand your order.”
Zyair smiled. “That’s a lot of words really fast. Those rocks may have hit your head harder than I thought. I would be mad about you disobeying me, but that explosion caused the yetis to scatter, which has freed the city. I don’t know why I thought giving you orders was a good idea anyway. No matter what ranger protocol says, you’re the best tactician I know.”
“Thanks.” Daycia rubbed her face. “How’d we get back here anyway?”
“Well that explosion, and the subsequent avalanche, wasn’t exactly subtle. The yetis scattered, and we sent teams out right away to find you. You were near the top so it didn’t take much digging. You’re lucky.”
“And Paley?”
“She doesn't heal as fast as you do, but the doctor said she should be okay. A broken rib and a few minor cuts. A week of rest should set her straight.”
“We don't have time for that. We knocked down one cave, in what has to be a whole network. They’re arming up for a war and the Heirs know nothing about it.” Daycia threw back her covers and tried to get to her feet, only to find herself quite abruptly cradled in Zyair’s arms. He was so warm and strong, Daycia didn’t mind the position at all.
“You won’t do anyone any good if you croak now,” he said putting her back on the bed. “So, for once in my life, can you please just do what I say and rest? There are other people in this city, in this realm, that know how to defend it.” Zyair brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Let them do their part while you recover. Then you can charge to the front like always.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: TYCHO
When Oleana felt the pull toward Central City she couldn’t tell for sure if it was all for the search for her final wayward king, or was she still searching for that true homecoming. She left her farm home reluctantly pulled into the hunt by Lorn’s insistence. Now she was returning to a place she’d left willing more than thirty years ago. Part of her hoped coming back meant it could be the place that she could settled down in.
Oleana stuffed her coat, snow boots, and gloves into a cubbyhole on the train hoping someone in need would find them and give them a deserving home. She was relieved to be rid of them, like she’d shed fifty pounds. She would make do with her gray ankle boots and her favorite quarter-sleeve blue sweater to stave off the Midwest chill.
Lorn clung to his winter clothes, having developed an attachment. She tried to lecture him on carrying dead weight, but it was no use. The boy had a habit of hoarding items, a side effect of his early years on the streets.
Spring time in Central City usually meant an explosion of activity. Shops that spent the winter boarded up started the process of opening, and stocking up, for the rush of customers that came with warmer weather. Trade posts prepared for the first cartloads of fish coming from the coastal cities of Caldonia and Sartis.
Oleana grew up running errands for the fishers every year, making enough money to feed herself during the hard winter months. It was hard work that kept her skin taught and tan, and kept her out of trouble. There were some familiar faces among the rows of shops - though they were much older than she remembered, amid plenty of new ones. They wouldn’t recognize her. She’d changed so much from one lifetime to the next.
The city had changed too. Instead of being greeted by warm smiles, they met suspicious looks. The number of rangers patrolling the streets outnumbered the salesmen preparing for the next hustle. There were homeless men and women huddled in whatever secluded sunny spot they could find.
Oleana felt as if the city was coated in a layer of filth and grime that she couldn’t brush off. There was a distinctive smell of decay in the air. Even the mighty Central City was suffering under the systemic turmoil plaguing the five realms.
Oleana found herself walking closer to Lorn as they made their way down the main road. At the heart of the city jutted out massive buildings of glass and metal, gleaming beacons of industry and ingenuity, but the street before them was worn and pockmarked. There were others on the streets coming and going from the train station, all of them had heads down, eyes focused on their destinations.
A man, in his forties, long beard, with a bag strapped to his back, bumped against Lorn. He grabbed the man’s arm. Oleana was startled that her son would act so harshly to an accident, but she freed one of her sais to defend him because it was her job.
“Give it back,” Lorn ordered the man in a harsh voice Oleana rarely heard from him.
“Sorry, young sir. It was my fault. I mean no harm,” the man stuttered. He made no move to pull free, just stared down at his feet.
“Give it back,” Lorn insisted.
“I don’t know…” the man started.
Leith came up behind him, digging in the man’s pocket and retrieving the small leather pouch with Lorn’s initials on it, the one where he kept his snacks. Leith handed it over to Lorn, who let the man go. The bearded man ran off down the street without another word. Oleana watched in amazement as he fled. She didn’t know how to feel - angry he disturbed her son, sad he had to resort to such tactics, amused at his boldness.
“Good catch, boy,” Leith said. “Fast learner.”
“Are you okay?” Oleana asked, scanning her son for any signs of trauma.
He smiled back at her. “That was unexpected. I felt his fingers graze my back, and I knew. He was so fast, though, I almost missed it. I can’t believe he had the nerve with all of us together and clearly armed,” Lorn said, jingling the sword at his hip.”
“Yeah well, things have certainly changed around here,” Oleana said, looking around. “Wait what was that about being a fast learner? What are you teaching my son?” Oleana asked, pointing her sai under Leith’s chin.
Leith opened his mouth to say something. Nothing but a grunt came out. He threw his hands up in surrender.
“Mom, it's harmless. He just showed me a couple pickpocketing techniques, and how to spot one. As you can see, the skills came in handy. Mom, please don’t be like that.”
“When was this?”
“Spent days on train after another,” Leith said.
“Yes, all three of us, cramped in that tiny space. How did I miss these extra-curricular activities?”
Lorn’s face turned serious. “Maybe because you spent the whole time drunk, hungover, then drunk again.”
Oleana’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Lorn I…,” she wanted to deny it, but knew her behavior had been obvious. “I’
m sorry. I’ll do better,” she said repeating a familiar promise to her son.
The boy nodded, but said nothing further.
Oleana narrowed her eyes at Leith, but lowered her weapon. “I’ll forgive it this time, but no more unauthorized training,” she warned.
Oleana restarted her walk down the street. This time she added brazen pickpockets to her list of things to watch out for.
The ranger organization knew no boundaries. There were stations in four of the five realms, excluding the ultra-controlled Gaeth. The rangers stood as the peacekeepers of the realms, settling tribal skirmishes, policing borders, and generally stepping in where the local authorities couldn’t handle matters.
Central City, was at the heart of the realm of Caledon, the birthplace of the rangers, and home to the main training headquarters. A new set of recruits filed off the train just ahead of them, led by an officer Oleana didn’t recognize. She could only hope the man she was looking for was still there. Thirty-five years was a long career in the rangers. Any number of things could have happened to him in the meantime.
Letting muscle memory carry her to where she needed to be, Oleana took the turns needed to lead her boys to the front door of the Ranger’s headquarters. The five-story brick and glass building towered over the rest of the industrial buildings around it. Banks, manufacturing firms, distribution, and logistics firms made up the rest of the business sector, but the Ranger’s headquarters was clearly the crown jewel. Seeing the seven-foot-tall gray metal door, with the ranger crest embossed in the middle of it, brought Oleana near tears. She wasn’t ashamed of the smile that spread across her face.
Getting in the front door was no problem. They blended in with the crowd of eager-eyed potentials. Getting to the person she wanted would prove more challenging.
Last time she saw Tycho, he was still in his first year of field work, and already talking of plans to become an instructor, then the director of operations. Eying the plaque on the wall behind the reception desk, he was running the place now.
“We need to speak with Director Dawnwalker,” Oleana told the Pitbull at the desk. He was a middle-aged man with a burn running down the right side of his face, ruining his right eye. The injury likely took him out of the field, but he used as much passion and conviction to run the desk, as he would have to run a mission.
“You have no appointment. No pass. You come off the street expecting an audience with the director?” he scoffed at them. “I don’t know how things are done where you’re from, but things don’t work that way here,” he replied none too politely.
Lorn rolled his eyes, “Didn’t we play this game back at the library?” he asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wish Daycia had given some kind of all-access pass, so we could avoid this kind of thing.”
Oleana waved away her son’s petulant remark. The long, tense journey hadn’t done good things to her patience either, but now was not the time to lose it. “Well,” she began patiently, “if you explain to the director that his old friend Mira is back to collect a debt, then I’m sure he would be more than happy to see us.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, but Oleana could tell he recognized the name.
“Remind him he owes me fifty trade coins,” Oleana said with a raised eyebrow, planting her feet. She wasn’t leaving without talking to Tycho. “He’s lucky I don’t charge him interest,” she added for good measure, narrowing her eyes as she stared the desk jockey down.
The sergeant, Oleana saw the stripes on his collar, looked like he wanted to forcibly remove her. Maybe he would suggest the director was too busy for old friends. Oleana shut him down.
“We will wait right over here for him. He’ll be so excited to see me after so long. I can’t wait.” Oleana enthused. She pushed Lorn and Leith to a set of chairs directly in front of, and facing, the main desk.
“Yes ma’am, I’ll let him know,” he choked out. He whispered something to his colleague, then disappeared up the stairs.
“You know the Director of the Rangers…” Lorn said in awe, staring at Oleana.
“When I knew him, he wasn’t the director.
“You know all the best people. First the Director of the Thousand Years Library, and the firstborn of the Fire Ultra Emmaray, Daycia.” Lorn looked at his mother, as if for the first time. “Now the Director of the Rangers! Goodness, who’s next? You were always telling me how dangerous this trip would be, and coming against Tannin certainly qualified, but you didn’t tell me about all the perks,” he grinned with satisfaction.
Oleana shot him a stern look. Lorn forced himself to sit down with an exaggerated sigh, and looked straight ahead. Leith fidgeted on the other side of her, clutching his bag to his chest.
“Not a good stop for a thief,” she whispered to him. She couldn’t help the amusement in her voice.
Leith’s eyes darted back and forth between the remaining rangers, busy doing their jobs. “Don’t tell ‘em my former status,” he pleaded a bit nervously.
“Former?” she laughed, raising her eyebrows at him. “Since when? Weren’t you checking out the luggage at the train station?”
“Force of habit,” he muttered.
“Shame on you Leith,” Lorn said, craning around Oleana to look his fellow in the eye. “That's not conduct befitting…”
“Yes, I know,” Leith barked abruptly, cutting Lorn off. “Was looking, not touching.”
“Mira?” a deep voice yelled, drawing everyone’s attention.
A big man, breaking six feet, broad as a mountain, and looking like a skilled artisan sculpted him from marble, came barreling down the steps like a mad fool. His gray eyes were stretched as wide as his face would allow. Oleana jumped up, overcome by her excitement.
“Tycho!” she yelled back, trying, and failing to match his volume.
He scooped her up with his tree trunk arms, and lifted her into the air. The gray-tinged scruff on his face tickled her face as she jostled against him, and he twirled around in a tight circle. He kissed her forehead, and both cheeks, before returning her to the ground.
He stepped back, holding her at arm's length, taking in the full sight of her. “Your hair is so black,” he said, running his hands over it, “I love the colored threads you added to it. Wow your eyes are so brown.”
Oleana smoothed her locks down in a sharp burst of self-consciousness. “Well you collected a surprising amount of gray in my absence. You got old without me. I worried you might break a hip running down those stairs.”
“That would have been funny, except three months ago, my oldest announced she was pregnant. I’m thrilled, of course, but man did it make me feel old.”
“Hey, I didn’t come for all that. I came back to get my money, and to make sure you didn’t waste all that training I gave to a curly haired brat, that had delusions of grandeur.”
“Ha, it really is you!” he exclaimed. “When Eker said that name I almost jumped out of my skin, but part of me wondered if it was some trick. But no one but you would know about that, or even talk to me that way. It’s so good to see you again,” he mused. “I’ve missed you so.” For a second Tycho’s eyes glazed over. Oleana could image the images her re-emergence conjured up in him. It was enough to break Oleana’s heart, thinking about all the years that now separated them.
“Me too, my friend, me too,” she agreed. “If it’d been up to me, it would not have been so long,” Oleana said knowingly.
Tycho nodded his head soberly. “We heard about the troubles in Solon. Did you have something to do with that?”
“Forced to flee with Leith and Lorn,” Oleana said pointing out each in turn. “Master of Animals, and Master of Skies, respectively.”
“Tycho Dawnwalker, formerly of Nadir’s Nightstalkers, and current Director of the Rangers, it’s an honor to meet you both,” Tycho said giving a slight bow to Lorn and Leith.
Leith nodded, but the blush in his cheeks told his embarrassment. Lorn stood with his eyes wide, and his mouth open.<
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Oleana shook her head, and tried to explain their reactions. “They aren’t used to such treatment.” Switching subjects, she said, “since you brought him up, how is our mutual friend doing?”
“Shouldn’t you know,” Tycho answered. “News of him spreads throughout all the realms.”
“She avoids the news,” Lorn volunteered. “Says there are too many bad mentions to keep track of.”
“Well,” Tycho began, “Nadir took over when his father died twelve years ago. He managed to carve out a peaceful reign for quite a while there, but Failsea has really been pressing the issue this last year. Drought and a dwindling fish population hasn’t helped things.” Tycho paused for a moment, then continued. “On a personal note, after you left, Lillian moved in and they have been married some- wow can’t believe it's been that long- thirty-something years now,” he marveled.
Oleana swallowed hard. That was why she avoided catching up. It almost always ended up in pain. “I’m happy for him. Truly. Happy for them.” Her tone took on an almost too-bright affectation. “They must have a big family by now, just as his mother wished for him.”
“One son, Lysander,” her friend agreed, “fine young man. Leader of his squad. Tied my record for the youngest to reach that rank.” Tycho put his hands up defensively as he continued. “Trust me when I say, it was not due to any favoritism he was shown. I made sure of that.”
“I’m glad,” Oleana replied, even though she was nothing of the sort. “I will need to speak to Nadir, to request his help, formally.”
Tycho’s gaze dropped. His shoulders slumped enough for Oleana to know that something was wrong. “I’m sure you’ve been through a lot recently.” He clapped his hands together, and gestured to the three of them, seemingly suddenly intent on changing the subject. “You should come back to my house, get some rest, maybe something to eat. I must acquaint the two kings with the fine treatment they should get used to receiving.”