Raider

by Justine Davis

  He saw their eyes widen, saw moisture glisten there, saw their lips part as if in awe.

  “So how did you do this?” he asked.

  “We didn’t break the rules,” Nyx said.

  “You only said no more climbing—”

  “The walls. And no more—”

  “Skulking around outside—”

  “The Coalition compound.”

  The familiar—beloved—patter gave him a new burst of energy. “So?”

  “We didn’t climb the wall, we—”

  “Dug under. And we didn’t skulk outside—”

  “We went inside.”

  Drake closed his eyes for a moment. Shook his head. But he was smiling, and he made sure they saw it. Once they realized he wasn’t angry, the words came so rapid-fire he gave up trying to remember who said what and just listened to the flow. How their small tunnel had unexpectedly connected with an old, bigger one, which in turn connected with a newer one running the length of the compound, how they found other tunnels leading off from the main one, how they had gone back several times, exploring the underground labyrinth and finding many things. Including Jakel’s private torture chamber.

  He suppressed another shudder at the name.

  “Kye planned out the rest,” Brander said.

  “Better stay on her good side, big brother,” Eirlys said with a smile at Kye. “I think she could do just about anything she had to.”

  “Oh,” he said softly, his gaze fastened on Kye, “I intend to.”

  And it was Kye, then, who suddenly turned to face his mother. And he recognized her stance, the set of her delicate jaw, and knew what was coming before she spoke.

  “While I am beyond grateful to you for saving him, and owe you my allegiance, my life, and anything else you wish for that reason, I would still like an explanation.”

  Drake held his breath, flicked a glance at his sister who appeared to be doing the same. His mother turned, faced Kye straight on. “Interesting,” she said, “that it is you who asks.”

  “They would not,” Kye said. “They would tell themselves they should just be glad to have you back, and not to question it. But that does not mean they do not deserve an explanation.”

  “Kye—” Drake began.

  “Don’t,” she said, never taking her eyes off of his mother. “She left you. She left you with a sister barely nine and twins barely more than babies to raise. She let you all think she was dead, for nearly ten years. Let you believe that she had not loved any of you enough to stay through her own pain. She had plenty of time during the climb to Halfhead to change her mind, but she did not.”

  Iolana Davorin took it all without a flicker of emotion, not the barest change of expression. Kye crossed her arms, and recognizing the stubborn body language too well, Drake tried again to intervene. “Kye—”

  She cut him off, her tone becoming almost militant. “I know she is your mother, and you don’t feel you have a right to be furious. That’s fine, because I’m furious enough for all of you.” She turned back to his mother. “I have watched Eirlys struggle to accept her mother’s loss, have heard her wrestling with the realization that it would have been easier on all of them had you actually died with their father. And I have watched the twins, too clever not to know they were pitied, called those poor, abandoned orphans behind their backs.”

  His mother winced slightly at that, but Kye was on the attack now, and there was no stopping her. “But most of all, I have watched Drake. I watched him scramble to hold what was left of his family together. I watched him subjugate his nature to keep the rest of the Davorins off the Coalition agenda. And then I watched the rise of the Raider, fighting the fight we’d thought impossible, risking his life time and again. And while I was too long blind to it, it was then Drake began to appear ever and always exhausted, because he was carrying two impossible loads, either one of which would have been too much for most men. And you left him to do it alone. If there is a reason worth doing that to your son, I bedamned well would like to hear it.”

  To his surprise, his mother turned to look at him. “You have chosen well,” she said. “She is worthy of you, and of Ziem.”

  Drake’s gaze flicked to Kye. “I know,” he said softly.

  For an instant, that softness she so rarely let show warmed her eyes. But she didn’t let up. “Never mind the flattery. I would prefer a straight answer.”

  Iolana faced her accuser. “What reason would be worth what I did? Ziem. I had seen her future, without him. And her destruction.”

  Kye frowned. “You did this to him because of your vision?”

  His mother shifted her gaze to him, and Drake saw moisture making her vivid eyes even brighter. “You think I did not fight it? Of course I did. I did not want any of this. But the future was unambiguous, unequivocal.”

  “You always said your visions were . . . open to interpretation,” he said.

  “Before, they always were. Arbitrary, coming for this but not for that. Full of symbols that could be taken one way or another. But this one was unmistakable. Without her leader, Ziem died. The Coalition using her up, and then destroying her as they have so many other worlds.” Her eyes were haunted, in that way he remembered from childhood meant she was seeing things no one else could see. “Nothing left but rubble, floating in the void,” she whispered. “Her people, all of them, incinerated in one mighty blast.”

  There was such horror and anguish in her voice, in her face, that Drake felt an unwanted pang for this woman who had abandoned them. He heard the stir in the room; Iolana Davorin’s visions had been as legendary as the Spirit had become. He saw her draw in a deep breath, as if to steady herself, and then she went on, focused on him now. “When I first began to see, I thought that leader was your father. After they murdered him, the vision became clearer, sharper.” An odd, sad sort of smile curved her mouth for a moment. “And I saw it was to be you, as you are now. Grown tall and strong, brilliant and brave. The only one able to do what must be done. I fought what I saw, for I had lost so much already. I did not want you to be the one. But the vision of Ziem without you to lead cared nothing for my heart, and would not change. It never changes.”

  Again he felt a pang; what use was seeing the future if you could do nothing about it? He imagined himself foreseeing Kye’s death and being helpless to change it. It would be a very special kind of hades.

  “I was beaten. I went up Halfhead with full intent,” she said. “I meant to put an end to my agony. My people were shattered, and I felt their suffering. The Coalition had taken the man I loved. And now fate was demanding my beloved son. It was the only way to end my pain.”

  “We saw you fall,” Drake said, his voice hoarse. “Half of Zelos saw you take the plunge. No one has ever survived Halfhead.”

  “And yet I woke up days later, alive but badly injured, and being tended by Grim.”

  Drake still found the silence of the towering, formidable figure that hovered ever close disconcerting. Kye and Eirlys had told him they had at first wondered if there was more to the relationship than loyal servant, but they had seen no sign.

  She held up the arm that did not bend properly. “I nearly lost all use of this. Far too many bones were broken, and it felt as if my lungs had taken in half of the Racelock. The pain made me wish I had died. But Grim, my loyal friend, and the magic he’d found in the mountain and learned to use, kept me going.”

  The big man shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, and his mother was quick to continue. “I began to realize that I had survived for a reason. Some higher purpose. And I spent much of these past years learning what that was.” She smiled, and for a moment he saw the woman he remembered—beautiful, ethereal, and of impossible grace. “It was Grim who began the Spirit legend, not I. But it took hold. And I have ever watched over you, and the children. Never doubt
, Drake, that I love you more than you will ever know. For more reasons than I can explain.”

  “Then why did you stay away?” Kye asked.

  “So the Raider could be born.” She focused on Kye now, and something new had come into her voice. “In order for him to become who he had to be, the man Ziem needed, he had to fight to build the strength he would need. And the vision said he had to do it alone. He had to learn to carry a great load, so that one day he could carry an even heavier one.” She glanced at Drake, and the pride he saw there warmed him despite his ambivalent feelings. “And you have,” she said softly.

  She turned back to Kye. “You know him well, and you knew him then, how reckless he could be. Had he not responsibility to hold him back, he would have died as his father did, in a blaze of Coalition fire. But I knew how much he loved them—” she gestured at the twins and Eirlys “—and needing to be there for them would slow him down until he was ready to be the leader Ziem needed. They would do what I feared I couldn’t—keep him alive.”

  He couldn’t deny his mother’s words; after that day, he had been reckless, crazed with anger and grief, and ready to march into the mouth of hades to avenge his father’s death.

  “I watched,” his mother said, turning now to look at both him and Kye, “and waited. I learned, both how to fight—again thanks to Grim—and how to harness the power of the mountain for my healing. I knew you would rise to fight, and when you did, I would be ready to help.”

  “What if I had not?” he asked.

  “I knew you would,” she repeated. “I had foreseen it. And you are your father’s son. And, although you don’t wish to hear it just yet, mine.”

  She was right about that, Drake thought, but held the words back.

  “And now,” Brander observed, “we really do have a meeting of legends. The Spirit and the Raider. The potential is . . . staggering.”

  Kye’s gaze shot to Brander, then back to his mother, then to him. “Indeed,” she said softly. “We must use this. The Spirit and the Raider, two Davorins, standing together for Ziem. Posters, like the ones of the Raider, stenciled everywhere. Every Ziemite with a scrap of courage will rally.”

  “So I have some worth?” Iolana asked Kye directly.

  Drake watched as she faced his mother once more. “Yes,” Kye said coolly. “I have not forgiven you as they have, not yet, but I will use you.”

  His mother smiled, and it was clearly in approval.

  “You have chosen well. She is worthy of you, and of Ziem.”

  No, he thought. She is worthy of much more.

  Chapter 50

  IT WAS A QUIET—for the moment—assembly in the gathering room. For a place usually the sight of planning for battles, or for fight-weary Sentinels to rest and recharge, the room looked almost festive. Garlands of mistflowers draped the walls, candles cast a golden glow, and the fire on the hearth warmed the room. Even the Sentinels looked different; all had cleaned up as best they could, donned their most presentable clothes, and stood now eagerly awaiting something they had not seen in too long—a genuine, honest day of celebration.

  Kye took Brander’s offered arm, touched despite herself at how much care he’d taken, his jaw clean-shaven, his usually somewhat wild hair neatly combed, and his black coat looked both formal and new, as if he’d had it stored away.

  Her own dress was something she had never expected. She had thought she would become pledged to Drake wearing the plain ceremonial robe that was the best she had, which was not saying much. But last night, his mother had knocked on the door to his quarters, which Drake had turned over to her for this night. While, she suspected, the Sentinels did their best to get him drunk on this, his last night of being unattached.

  Iolana Davorin had brought an offering, and one Kye found hard to refuse, one of her own gleaming white robes.

  “I would offer it merely because you are pledging to my son,” she had said. “But please know it is out of respect as well. I have learned of the woman you have become. You are not only that artist of no small talent I remember, but a brave, bold woman and fighter, and a perfect match for him. You hold his heart, and I know you will see to it well. And I will wait as long as it takes for you to, not forgive me, but accept me as one who loves him, too.”

  Kye had bitten back the comment that rose to her lips, that abandoning him and her other children was hardly an act of love, because she was beginning to see it had been just that. But an act of love for this place, this mist-shrouded planet they all cherished. She had seen with clarity that her son was the only one who could save it, and so she had offered him up, and done what was necessary for him to learn what he had to learn. Kye understood, but she still couldn’t quite give it her blessing.

  But she could accept this offering. As a first step.

  And then Eirlys had joined them to fuss with the robe, and, to her surprise, said Mara Clawson and Tuari and others were all bustling about in the gathering room, preparing. When Eirlys was done, Kye found herself looking in the polished metal that served as a mirror at a woman in a gleaming white dress, tucked in at the waist and flowing out gracefully behind, and with a garland of white mistflowers around a loose knot of long, dark hair that looked as if one good tug would send it cascading down.

  She would not shame him, she thought as they stepped into the gathering room.

  Eirlys left to stand with her brother while Iolana had made her way to the front of the room to stand before the mantel of the hearth, the most imposing structure in the room. She would, as the wife of an elder of Ziem, perform the pledging.

  “Of all the things I regretted as I slipped so close to death, the biggest was that we had not pledged. I would have you own my name and my soul formally, before everyone, as you already do between us.”

  She had not hesitated for an instant at Drake’s heartfelt proposal. She had realized, with a pang, that he was also assuring she would not be alone should he truly die, that she would have his family as her own. But she remembered her own wish, as he lay dying, that they had not let the war stop them, and she understood.

  To her surprise, she heard music, a quiet, gentle tune from past days, played with some skill on a lap harp. When she saw it was gruff old Pryl at the strings, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. She smiled at the man, and saw his own eyes look suspiciously moist as he smiled back. The music changed, his fingers picked up the pace, and a joyous fanfare blossomed from the strings.

  And then she saw Drake and her breath left her in a rush. He was dressed in full black—his father’s pledging clothes, Iolana had said, her eyes moistening when she’d recognized them and realized he’d kept them all this time—but for a slash of white mistflower on his shoulder. Tall, strong, his eyes bright and clear, his dark hair brushed back from that face so beloved with or without scars.

  A face no longer masked. It bore scars in actuality now, but thanks to the skill of his mother, they were already fading. But it was the first time he had ever appeared before them all without the Raider’s disguise, confirming what Brander had told them. She also knew that this meant his life in Zelos as he’d known it was over. As did he. But he had told her he did not mourn this, not with her beside him.

  “Where I will ever be,” she had whispered back, vowing to treasure him even more after nearly losing him forever.

  Brander bowed as they reached him, handing her off to his brother in all but blood. And Kye’s sister also in all but blood, but soon also by law, did the same for Drake by lifting his hand and placing it over Kye’s in the traditional way.

  Iolana began, reciting the pledging ceremony that had been banned on Ziem since the arrival of the Coalition. This simple act, once so common, so affirming, was now an act of defiance, and everyone there knew it. It added another layer to the already joyous occasion, and when the final words were spoken, when she and Drake were bound tog
ether for eternity, she felt nothing short of triumph. And in his eyes she read the same emotion; they had not just pledged to each other today, they had pledged to their world.

  “You have sealed what was a given, you were made for each other,” Iolana whispered to them. “Ziem has their first family once more.”

  And that night, there was no sneaking back to the alcove, no hiding, no worrying who might overhear. For instead, they had another gift from his mother, one glorious night alone, with no one to interrupt, in a surprising cave warmed by the mountain itself, and planned for their every comfort.

  “Revel,” she had said with a wink. “Time enough to worry about what’s coming. For tonight, just be with each other.” And then, after a moment, she looked at her son pointedly and added, “And work on that wish of mine.”

  It was much later, when they had sated the first driving need, made even more powerful by how close they had come to losing it, when she finally asked. “What wish of hers?”

  Drake, to her amazement, flushed. Lowered his eyes. “Something she wants, when Ziem is free and safe to explore once again.”

  Kye didn’t dwell on what that was going to take, she wanting nothing to mar this night. “What is it she wants?”

  His mouth quirked as he at last met her gaze. “A grandchild to explore it with.”

  A sudden burst of emotions flooded Kye, things she had never felt, had never dared let run. A child. Her child. Drake’s child. It was insane to even think of and yet . . . when Ziem is free and safe to explore once again.

  “We should work on that,” she said, knowing he would see her acceptance of his mother’s wish for what it was, acceptance of everything. They would be a family, that first family of free Ziem.

  “With pleasure, my mate,” he whispered. And set about the task.

  Chapter 51

  A HUSH FELL over the room as Brander finished fastening the map to the wall. Up high, so it was visible to all. Drake had asked her to keep this quiet so that he could unveil the entire plan at once. She had, though excitement was fairly humming through her.