I practically fell out of my hammock in my haste to get out of it, landing on one knee and wincing, even as I laughed. They were here. Here! Who? Who had made it?
Ronan landed neatly on his feet and laughed under his breath, helping me up. I was too excited to take offense, rushing to the door and down the bridge. We saw them as we crossed, over by the mouth of the cave. Vidar and Bellona. Tressa and Killian.
But no Niero.
They raised their fists in greeting, and I could see Vidar’s white smile, even from where I stood. Hurriedly, we rushed around the tree and onto the second bridge, then waited on the platform as men and women hauled up the drawbridge that would allow us to reunite. It seemed to take forever. But as soon as Chaza’el gave us the nod of permission, we were running across it — even I didn’t hold the ropes — concentrating only on reaching the other end. To our brothers. Our sisters.
I leaped into Bellona’s arms, and Ronan hugged Tressa. The knights clasped arms, grinning in the glory of our glad reunion. “What of Niero?” I asked each one. All of them just shook their head, fear and concern wafting off of them like a foul odor. But I was so glad to be with them again, so happy that most of us were together, that my smile quickly returned.
We introduced them all to Chaza’el, and together entered the cavern to have some breakfast and share what we knew. Bellona had a bandaged wrist, having taken a fierce hit from a monk’s staff, and I could see that Vidar had a long cut at his temple. “He almost had me, the little spider,” he said, referring to the enemy monk. Spider was an apt description for the Wadi Qelt soldiers, who had spread and surrounded us so quickly, like a nest of babies burst forth all at once. I shivered at the memory.
“How’d you find us?” Ronan asked.
“The Maker guided us,” Bellona said. “Our armbands grew warmer with every step we took to this place. And when we were off-track, they grew colder.”
“So what now?” Bellona asked, tossing her heavy brown braid over her shoulder. “Onward to the coast? To try and reach Kapriel? Or behind us? To try and free Niero?”
Chaza’el stilled. “You intend to free Kapriel? From the Isle of Catal?”
“At the first opportunity,” Vidar said with a wide grin. He lifted his hands. “I don’t suppose you tree people have a boat …”
But Chaza’el didn’t return his smile. His brown eyes were wide and distant, his pupils dilated, as if seeing something else entirely in the dark. I bit my tongue when I wanted to say his name, not wishing to break whatever was happening. My cuff seemed to hum … warmed as we watched our new brother.
He blinked and straightened, then seemed to see us all again, but still, we waited. Around us, his fellow villagers had stilled, as if they knew well this cycle of vision and sharing. Collectively, we all took a deep breath, like we’d all been holding it.
Chaza’el gave us an embarrassed grin, and impulsively, I took his hand. “Tell us, brother. Of your vision.”
“It was of Catal. Kapriel’s prison. I … I’ve never had a vision of such clarity.”
“Welcome to the company of the Ailith,” Vidar said. “Just wait until we get you your armband.”
Bellona shook her head at him. “But, Chaza’el … Did you see the way in? How we might approach Catal?”
“No, but I saw our prince deep within her tunnels. He is unwell. Suffering.”
I frowned. Kapriel was ill? And if he was suffering … might Keallach pounce upon his weakness?
“That’s not so great, Chaz,” Vidar chided. “Can you redo your vision-thing again and see if you can figure out our route to him instead?”
Chaza’el smiled, recognizing Vidar’s humor. “If only I could.”
“Yeah, well. Let’s work on that. Somebody get this guy an armband!” he yelled, as if summoning a tavern maid. And with that, some of the tension melted as we laughed.
We packed supplies and hiked all day, slept in a valley — taking turns keeping watch — then hiked all day the next. When we reached the saddle of the next ridge of mountains, Ronan and Bellona stood waiting, eyes alight, glee emanating from them.
The rest of us, weary but curious, joined them and looked out. There, in the distance, was something impossibly huge. A blue band, curving with the horizon.
“The ocean,” Bellona said, as if she thought we didn’t understand what we saw. And to be honest, it wasn’t until that moment that I did comprehend what the word could mean.
“It’s so big,” I said, shaking my head. “So vast.”
Our mountain friends shared another look. “You’ve never seen it before?” said the huntress.
“Never,” I breathed, still staring. It was simply so much bigger than I had imagined. And in comparison, I suddenly felt frightfully small. Tiny, on the edge of it.
Never had our charter seemed farther off, less possible, than now. To save the world. When it was turning out to be so big. It was one thing to think we could battle the evil that menaced her when we were in the Valley — when the world felt more contained, more known. Standing here, now, looking upon the vast waters, thinking of others beyond it, I realized just how much I didn’t know about my world, and laughed aloud.
Ronan took my hand. “The goal, Andriana. Just the next goal, not everything in between,” he reminded me softly.
I looked up at him and gave him a rueful smile. “It’s so immense, Ronan. Our task. This world. And what the Maker has sent us out to do.”
“But the Maker holds it all,” he said.
“That he does,” Vidar said in satisfaction, staring outward.
“To the end and back,” Chaza’el said, putting his fist in the center of our ring. His new arm cuff glinted in the sun. “I’m with you, Ailith kin. As I’ve always been with you, from the start. From birth, strengthened by the hour of our Call, and wherever the Maker takes us next.”
Slowly, we each placed a hand on his, one atop another.
“To the end and back,” I repeated, looking every one of them in the eye — Vidar, Bellona, Killian, Tressa, Ronan, and Chaza’el.
“To the end and back,” they said together.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
So often I get email from readers, wondering about correct pronunciation about names. My character names are carefully chosen, since a name evokes a persona in my mind. Many of these are warrior names, with unique nuances that tie to who the characters are. Some I just liked, even if their meanings made no sense. But I do hope they are names you can pronounce in your head! Here’s how they sounded in MY mind …
~LTB
PRONUNCIATION GUIDE:
Ailith: A-lith (“noble war”; “ascending, rising”)
Andriana: An-dree-ana, or Dree, for “Dri” (“warrior”)
Asher: Ash-er (“happy one”)
Azarel: Ah-zah-rell (“helper”)
Bellona: Bell-oh-na (“warlike”)
Chaza’el: Chazah-ell (“one who sees”)
Kapriel: Kah-pree-ell (variant of “warrior”)
Keallach: Key-lock (“battle”)
Killian: Kill-ee-un (“little warrior” — though he’s not so little in my novel!)
Raniero: Rah-near-oh (“wise warrior”)
Ronan: Row-nun (“little seal”; I know. Not as cool, right? But he was named Duncan at first draft and I had to change it due to publisher request, and “Ronan” sounded like a medieval, cool warrior name to me. I overlooked the real translation in favor of the man he became in my story. And that guy, to my mind, is more like a warrior, with the spray of the sea upon his face as he takes on the storm — which is a little like a seal!)
Tressa: Tre-sah (“late summer”)
Vidar: Vee-dar (“forest warrior”)
grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Remnants Page 36