Yorien's Hand (The Minstrel's Song Book 3)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  “He told me that, too.”

  “Do you think they lead anywhere?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never paid much attention to them before,” Oraeyn’s voice held a grim note that Kamarie wondered at, but did not comment on. Instead she shrugged and followed his lead.

  They approached the great rock formations and paused, admiring the twists and turns of the rocks that had been created by the sweeping waves of the ocean. The entrances to the caves were massive, yawning caverns that led to a myriad of tunnels and chambers. Some were no more than shallow imprints, but others extended far beyond the line of sight.

  “They’re bigger than I remembered,” Kamarie breathed, a little awed.

  “I wonder how many were created by the tides,” Oraeyn spoke thoughtfully. “They could be the answer to a siege.”

  “A siege?” Kamarie asked, feeling as if she had missed something important.

  “If we could tunnel into the caves from the palace, they could become a very useful secret passage,” Oraeyn continued, heedless of her concern.

  “Why would we need to prepare for a siege?” Kamarie asked. She enjoyed secret passageways as much as anyone, but she was not sure she understood the purpose of this new idea. The tunnels would be a great hiding place, but they just ended a person up on the shore with nowhere to go but the ocean.

  “Just in case,” Oraeyn said nonchalantly.

  Kamarie turned to look at Oraeyn. “What are you not telling me?”

  Oraeyn shrugged and turned away, hiding his expression from her.

  “Oraeyn,” Kamarie’s tone was filled with warning. Her fingers tightened reflexively around his hand. “What is it? You’ve been quieter than usual and you’re contemplating something you’re not sharing with me. What is going on?”

  “I don’t want you to worry, it could be nothing.”

  “We said we wouldn’t keep secrets, remember? We promised to trust one another. We both agree that it can help to look at a problem from a different perspective. You can’t protect me from every difficulty that arises,” Kamarie kept her words calm, though her stomach was beginning to turn nervous flips.

  Oraeyn sighed and dropped his shoulders. “I have a premonition that our time of peace is coming to an end.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I’ve received messages from other nations.”

  “Llycaelon?”

  “No, although Brant’s reports about the seheowk attacks on Llycaelon’s borders might be linked to everything else. Yesterday evening there were a handful of urgent messages on my desk from many nations. Yochathain and Kallayohm mostly… they were warnings.”

  “Warnings about what, exactly?” Kamarie’s stomach continued to dance about.

  “It seems they have all come under attack. All the messages are the same: an army of vicious beasts came up out of the sea and overwhelmed them. Creatures of unfathomable ferocity and relentless malice surged across these nations, leaving death and destruction behind them.”

  Kamarie pursed her lips. “What does Dylanna have to say about all of this?”

  Oraeyn opened his mouth to speak and then hesitated. Kamarie’s stomach stopped doing flips and clenched into a cold little ball of tightness.

  “Oraeyn?” Kamarie asked, trying to read the expression that fell over his face. She forced herself to remain calm, but a prickling sensation crept across the back of her neck.

  “Something strange has happened,” his voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear. “I sent them a message this morning, before dawn, but it returned before I came to get you. It was unopened.”

  “Did the bird get lost?” Kamarie let go of Oraeyn’s hand and began to pace.

  “I don’t think so. It’s possible, but it’s never happened before. The birds are incredibly reliable.”

  Kamarie whirled to stare at him. “When were you going to tell me this?” she demanded. Two spots of color appeared in her cheeks. “They are my aunts. I ought to be informed if they go missing!” Fury made her speak in cold, choked sentences.

  “We don’t know they’re missing. And I was going to tell you if your mother couldn’t find them,” Oraeyn reassured her quickly. “She didn’t act overly concerned, so I thought she might already have some idea as to what is going on. They were supposed to be in the middle of an experiment after all.”

  Kamarie calmed down a bit at hearing this. She breathed a deep sigh and tightened her lips, clamping them together to prevent any more angry words from spilling out.

  Oraeyn put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, your mother did not act worried and I just…”

  “Didn’t want me to worry, either,” Kamarie finished for him.

  Oraeyn kicked the toe of his boot into the sand. He squinted warily up at Kamarie and nodded slightly.

  “What is so wrong with me worrying?” Kamarie asked, her tone much gentler than before. “You worry about things all the time. Everyone I know worries, even Brant, and it hasn’t killed them yet. What’s so wrong about me hearing bad news and worrying a little over it?”

  “I just feel that you just shouldn’t have to, I guess,” Oraeyn mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

  Kamarie looked down, a little ashamed of her reaction. “I’m sorry, too. I just don’t like not knowing about important things.”

  Oraeyn nodded, somewhat abashed. “I wouldn’t like it either.”

  Kamarie’s frustration began to dissolve. “Where is my mother now? Is she still looking for Aunt Dylanna and Leila?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re positive she didn’t seem too anxious about their silence?”

  “Fairly certain,” Oraeyn replied.

  “Well, she’ll let us know when she’s done, I’m assuming you told her where we were going?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s explore these caves and see if that secret tunnel idea would work.”

  “All right,” Oraeyn said.

  He followed Kamarie into the caves, pondering her words. Even he did not fully understand his overwhelming need to protect her. It was her quick thinking and skills that had gotten them out of many potentially perilous situations in that first journey. The dread brought on by the nightmares that plagued him rose up in his mind, but he banished their memories. They were just dreams, he assured himself. Despite his best efforts, a sensation that something terrible was coming gnawed at Oraeyn’s mind, but he hid his worry from Kamarie, letting her words and presence ease his mind, and her spirit of adventure draw him out of his gloomy thoughts.

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  Zara wrinkled her brow in perplexed frustration. Shoulders sagging, she descended from the summit of Fortress Hill. Defeat tasted bitter, but there was nothing more she could do on her own. The better part of the day had been spent attempting to contact her sisters without any results to show for her efforts. Although she had not been particularly perturbed about their silence when Oraeyn first asked for her help, a sliver of apprehension now niggled at the back of her mind.

  She reached the palace and sat down in the Cottage Room to wait for Oraeyn and Kamarie to return, settling into her favorite couch: a soft, comfy, overstuffed thing covered in a beautiful, but threadbare, flowered print. The Cottage Room had been a parting gift from Scelwhyn. There was a delicate, beautiful magic woven throughout the chamber to make it feel like a little cottage in the woods, separate from the palace of which it was a part. Upon entering, one always caught a subtle whiff of pine needles and woodsmoke. The air was tinged with orange light. Nearly imperceptible sounds filled the room, and one could just pick them out if one sat very still and listened: the burbling as of a nearby stream, the muted swoosh and murmur of a summer breeze tickling the leaves on tall, old trees, the buzz of insects, and the chirping of birds.

  Zara let her mind drift into memory. Scelwhyn had never been a man of grand gestures, but he wanted to bestow something special
to show his approval of Arnaud as both a king and soon-to-be son-in-law. He had asked Arnaud to name something he thought he might need to help him rule Aom-igh. Arnaud’s expression had grown distant and filled with longing, and he had asked, timidly, for a piece of home inside the palace.

  Scelwhyn may not have thought it the most practical thing, but he had agreed, and Arnaud had been asked many times for his input as Scelwhyn worked the enchantment. When it was finished, Arnaud furnished it with simple, comfortable furniture. The tables were plain wood. A woven rug of earthy colors and simple fabric graced the floor. Zara could still remember the first time Arnaud showed the room to her.

  “My residence may indeed be a castle,” he told her, “but this room, at least, will be our cottage.”

  Over the years, this room had been their haven, the place where they spent the most time as a family. The walls were sealed to prevent the intrusion of outside sounds upon the peaceful chamber, and Arnaud had made it clear that nothing in the world was important enough to interrupt his family time when they were here. Thankfully, decades of peace had made it easy for the palace staff to obey this mandate.

  When they moved out of the palace, Arnaud had brought Oraeyn here and explained its purpose. He gave Oraeyn permission to change the furnishings as he saw fit, but Oraeyn refused to alter a single thing. Understanding the importance of this place to his betrothed and her family, he told the three of them that they had a standing invitation to enter the palace, and specifically this room, whenever they wished.

  Zara did not have to wait long. Oraeyn and her daughter burst into the room just a few minutes after she arrived. Kamarie was giggling. A bunch of tiny, light-blue flowers were woven into her hair like a crown above her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. Oraeyn was doing a poor imitation of someone who had yelled at them for being too boisterous, not realizing, of course, that it was the king he was reprimanding. When they noticed Zara though, their laughter died.

  “How long have you been waiting?” Kamarie asked in concern.

  “Only a moment,” Zara said reassuringly, then she looked out the window and started in surprise. “Is it night already?”

  Kamarie nodded. “Toreth-rise came about an hour ago.”

  Zara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I suppose I have been waiting longer than a moment then,” she made a sound that was halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. “I must have drifted off; I had forgotten how much energy that kind of work takes. And I had forgotten how much I love this room.”

  “This was the first place Arnaud showed me after he gave me the crown,” Oraeyn commented. “It’s my favorite part of the palace.”

  “It was ours, too,” Zara said fondly.

  “What did you find?” Oraeyn asked.

  Zara leaned her head back and rubbed her temples with her fingers. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Oraeyn sounded startled.

  “What do you mean?” Kamarie asked, her voice faltering a little in dismay.

  “I don’t quite understand it myself, but I’ll try to explain what I was doing so that you can better understand the implications. When Oraeyn came to me and told me he was worried about Dylanna and Leila because he had not heard from them, I was not too concerned. You see, I already knew that Dylanna and Leila were planning on attempting a new experiment. It did not surprise or alarm me that a message returned unopened. I thought perhaps they had created a barrier around Leila’s house in order to prevent unwanted distractions.

  “I went to the top of Fortress Hill. I believed its ancient power might help me focus my search. As sisters, Dylanna, Leila, and I are all linked; if I concentrate, I can sense them when they are nearby. I can even find them when they are farther away. No barrier should prevent that. Even when Calyssia was in Pearl Cove I could still sense her as a distant presence. But when I sent out strands of magic to find Leila and Dylanna today those strands never ended.”

  Kamarie looked confused. Zara sighed and pressed her palms together in front of her lips. “How to explain? It’s like a ball of yarn,” she said, struggling to put the concept into more familiar terms. “If you hold onto the loose end of the yarn and roll it against a wall, the ball should bounce off the wall and roll back to you. Well, what if there is no wall? Then the yarn just keeps rolling until it hits something. That’s what happened. I threw out my magic, and it never bounced back. It’s as if my sisters suddenly ceased to exist.”

  “How far did you look?” Oraeyn asked. “What if they were picked up by unfriendly dragons and flown to another island? Would you have been able to find them across a distance like that?”

  “I thought about that,” Zara said. “So I refined my attempt, changing its purpose and strengthening it. Then I sent it out again, this time I sent a strand in every direction and allowed the strands to travel far beyond our borders: same results. I spent the entire day searching, and found nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Zara’s tone hinted at her frustration and concern and Kamarie picked up on it.

  “Maybe their experiment shields them even better than Calyssia’s barrier did,” she said in a reassuring tone. “Oraeyn said they’ve only been missing for a day or two at the most. For all we know they’re still at Leila’s home.”

  Zara nodded, but her expression was filled with doubt. “Perhaps. If we do not hear from them soon, though, I will try again. I have a few other ideas for finding them. I simply used the easiest method first.”

  “I’m sure that the dragons would be willing to help,” Kamarie said, forcing a cheerful tone.

  “Yole would, at the very least,” Oraeyn added.

  Kamarie nodded in agreement. Yole had grown quite a bit since their first meeting. Then, he was just a bedraggled orphan wandering through the Mountains of Dusk. He was the one who had helped them discover the Fang Blade, but neither Kamarie nor Oraeyn had suspected that the boy was actually a child of the Lost: dragons who had chosen to remain above-realm in human form when most of their kin had fled to the underground tunnels and caverns of Krayghentaliss. Brant had known, of course. Very little surprised Brant.

  When the conflict between Aom-igh and Llycaelon ended, King Rhendak had offered Yole a place with his true people, and Yole accepted. He still visited the palace often, but he loved his true form and the family he had found among the dragons. Kamarie missed her adopted little brother sometimes, but she was happy he had found a place that he could call “home.” She believed it was better that Yole had chosen to live with his people; among humans he would always have felt like a stranger.

  “That’s true. I hadn’t yet considered asking the dragons to help,” Zara said thoughtfully, “they are indeed more powerful than I, and their aid would be welcome. Perhaps tomorrow…”

  “But it is late now,” Kamarie interjected, “and father will soon be concerned.”

  An icy fist clenched around Kamarie’s heart. Distress over the disappearance of her aunts consumed her thoughts though she clung to a semblance of composure. Though she tried to hide her worry, she fooled neither her mother nor Oraeyn.

  Zara nodded reluctantly. “True, we should be getting home.” She rose and glided out of the room with queenly grace and Kamarie moved to follow.

  Oraeyn tapped Kamarie on the shoulder lightly as he walked her out of the room. “We will find them,” he promised.

  She turned and threw her arms about his neck, taking comfort in his strength, and nodded silently against his shoulder, struggling against the tears that wanted to fall. Oraeyn hugged her tightly and then let go as Kamarie stepped back. She nodded again, her heart too full for words.

  “Good night,” Oraeyn said.

  “Good night,” Kamarie’s voice was barely a whisper, and then she was gone.

  Much later that night King Oraeyn again stood atop the great wall of his castle. He liked the feel of the cool night air, the soft breeze filled with a salty scent wafting in from the ocean, and the silence that was not present in the long, echo
ing halls of the palace. Even late at night, those halls were always full of servants who scurried about on various errands. He was weary, but he did not seek sleep. Vague memories of nightmares made him loath to retire to bed. They were troubling and difficult to shake. Even upon waking, he was never sure whether the visions were real or imagined. They came every night now, rendering useless any sleep he did manage to find.

  Oraeyn took a long, deep breath. Above him the stars shone clear and bright, coldly removed from the pain and concerns of the world. Oraeyn’s fascination with the night sky had prompted Brant to teach Oraeyn their names and the stories behind the constellations. It amazed Oraeyn that despite all their differences, the stories about the constellations were the same in Llycaelon as they were in Aom-igh. Now, Oraeyn easily found the outline of Yorien.

  “You understood only too well the weight of the crown,” Oraeyn whispered to the outcast king. “You made the decision I wish I could have made and look at where you ended up. Was your sleep troubled by nightmares? Could you feel the threat coming before it ever reached you?”

  There was no answer, but Oraeyn did not expect one. He leaned against the stone railing. The night was breezy, and the wind carried the fine ocean mist on its back. Oraeyn welcomed the tiny droplets of water on his face. He could hear the crash of the waves below him and his thoughts wandered to the caves he and Kamarie had explored earlier that day.

  They had ventured inside, marking the turns they took so they would not get lost. The tunnels went much further back than Oraeyn had expected, and he believed there was at least one secret passage leading from the castle to the beach.

  His thoughts wandered again, this time to the messages he had perused much earlier that morning, and his concern over the missing wizardesses. He would show the messages to Brant and Arnaud tomorrow, he dared not put it off any longer. He feared that taking even a single day to ponder them might have been a foolish and fatal mistake.