by Jenny McKane
She had known him since they were children. They had grown up alongside each other and had been inseparable. They had shared their Initiation and dreamed of fighting with the rebels, together.
She had always loved him, but she knew that he didn’t feel the same way about her, that he thought of her as a sister. She could change that, couldn’t she? He just had to realize that they belonged together. That their destiny was written in the stars.
Minna watched as Skyresh handed the fire flint to the woman, letting her start the fire for the night. The woman bent over and struck the flint against a rock, carefully watching the sparks fly until one caught on the twigs, which lay on the ground. She leaned in closer and blew on it gently, until flames started to flicker. Skyresh watched her, his eyes never once leaving her.
Minna’s chest tightened again. He was making a mistake; she had tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen. She would have to take matters into her own hands. He would be angry with her, of course, but he would get over it. He would realize that she only acted in their best interests. The guardian was leading them into a trap, and Minna had to stop that before it was too late.
Yes. She nodded her head. It was the only way.
***
Avalon stared up at the night sky. It was so dark and so vast. She had never seen a sky like it before. In the city, she had rarely looked at it, but here in the wild wilderness of the Far North, it was impossible to not notice it. A million tiny stars studded the sky, so many that she could not count them all.
The fire flickered, casting wan light into the darkness. She could hear ice breaking away in the distance, travelling down the glacier. This place was lulling her, she could feel it. Some strange power lay within it—in the mountains, the sky, and the land.
Minna was standing a distance away, keeping guard for the night. The man called Sondre had already crawled into his sleeping roll, getting sleep before he had to relieve her of her duties in the night. Brunn was sitting by himself a distance away, singing softly while he sharpened his sword.
She and Skyresh were the only ones around the fire. She glanced at him. He was half lying down, staring into the flames. Did he know what had happened to her back at the ruins? As hard as she tried, she could not dispel the vision. She knew that it was connected to this place, somehow.
She thought of the stories he had told her. About a time before, when magic had ruled this land. She knew with her rational mind that it was all nonsense. Even though she knew now that magic existed, he claimed that the Jarle had not been rulers here since the beginning of time. That everything that she had ever known, and ever been taught, was a lie.
It simply wasn’t possible. Was it?
“Tell me more about the Outlying Zone,” she said.
He turned towards her, fixing her with a level gaze.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, his blue eyes carefully assessing her.
Avalon shrugged. “I want to know your stories about it,” she replied. A part of her mind flickered a warning. She wasn’t supposed to think about the Outlying Zone. But then, it was good strategy to know the mind of your enemy, wasn’t it? What motivated them and what their beliefs were. It could be used against them.
That was why she wanted to know. No other reason.
He sighed. “The Outlying Zone is a prison,” he said slowly. “When the Jarle conquered this realm, they knew that the animals were our friends. But even more than that. The animals were our allies. They spoke to us and were loyal to us.”
“What about the horses?” Avalon stared at him. “Why weren’t they sent into the Outlying Zone, as well?”
“Because they were useful.” Skyresh threw another branch onto the fire, causing sparks to dance in the darkness. “For transport. All the animals are useful, of course, but the horses the most. The Jarle trust that the Silence Spell they cast over them will last, and it is strong. But some of our horse friends can overcome it.”
Avalon thought of her beloved horse back in the city. He had been given to her when she was little, and sometimes, she had felt closer to him than to anyone else. She had wanted to name him, but Father had forbidden it. And sometimes, she had almost felt that her horse was trying to speak to her. She had dismissed the notion, of course. It had simply been too ludicrous to contemplate.
“What do you mean that the animals spoke to us?” Avalon was frowning. “They open their mouths and talk like us?”
Skyresh smiled. “No,” he said. “They make their own sounds. They used to talk to us with their minds, once the bond was made. Mother Asta told me that their words would just fall into your mind, and you would answer them back. But then they were silenced. Even that was not enough. So, the Jarle sent them all to the Outlying Zone.”
Avalon stared into the flames of the fire. It was so farfetched. And yet, she had seen the creatures with her own eyes.
“Do you remember when we were being pursued?” Skyresh was staring hard at her. “In the Outlying Zone? That was your forces, but they had animals called wolves working with them. You must have heard their howls as they pursued us.”
Avalon thought of the high-pitched sound that she had heard, along with the footsteps. She had known that whatever was making that sound wasn’t human. It had sent chills down her spine.
She shook her head. “Why would these creatures…these wolves…work with our forces, if they had been imprisoned by them?”
“Magic again,” said Skyresh. “A spell. The wolves are wild and almost untamable. And the Jarle know it. They worked hard to tame them. It would take too much power to tame all the animals – there are millions of them – so they target just two: the horses and the wolves. Usually, it works.” He paused. “They sometimes bring the wolves over, into Agnoria. To hunt us down or guard the prison camps.”
Avalon stared harder into the flames, as if an answer might lay within them.
“Why did it hurt?” She turned to him, her eyes wide. “Why did it hurt, when I crossed from here into the Outlying Zone, and back again?”
“It is the prison boundary,” he replied. “It has to deter people from crossing over. Most won’t, as soon as they feel it. They think that they will die, but it is possible to do it and survive. Some don’t. I have seen people attempt to cross over, and the agony was too great for them.”
Avalon’s eyes widened. “It kills people?”
Skyresh nodded. “It can,” he said. “You have to be strong—fit and healthy to endure it. I would never let an old person or a child cross over, nor someone who is sick. It would be too much for them.”
Avalon closed her eyes. The information was simply overwhelming. She had a duty to do. She had been trained to be a guardian of the realm. It was all that she had ever wanted to be. She had worked hard to get where she was; her whole family was against her doing it.
And this man was telling her that everything that she had believed in and was fighting for was a lie. That her family was part of that lie and enforced it.
She opened her eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?” she asked, turning to him.
Skyresh stared at her. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “There is something about you that I cannot put my finger on…but do not get smug. I would willingly die for my people’s liberation. I will kill you, without hesitation, if I think it is necessary.” He smiled at her. “You are useful, for now. If we can secure these weapons, it will greatly help us. More of our people can be armed, and less of yours have weapons to fight back.”
Avalon smiled also. “Spoken like a true warrior,” she said. She yawned. “Well, I should probably get some sleep. How much further is it to Farric?”
Skyresh stood up. “We should get there late tomorrow,” he said, dousing the fire. “All being well. Be ready to tell us the next part of the directions.” He turned to her. “That is if you know them, of course.”
“Of course,” she answered, smiling. His gaze held hers for a moment before she turned and crawled into her sleeping
roll. She pulled the cover high over her face and closed her eyes.
She could hear that he hadn’t moved. Was he watching her? But, eventually, she heard him turn and crawl into his own sleeping roll, right next to hers.
She pulled the cover down, just slightly, and stared at him. His eyes were closed. She studied the tattoos on his neck and the contours of his face slowly. He was strong, a fierce leader. She could see why he inspired such devotion in his people. If things had been different, and she had been born in this place to his class, she would probably have followed him, too.
His eyes suddenly flew open, and he stared straight back at her. He slowly smiled. Avalon felt her face flushing. She turned away, to the other side, hastily. Her face burned deeper, as she heard him laughing softly.
Skyresh Sakr. The rebel leader. Gwalen, as he was known to his people.
She could feel his eyes boring into her, almost to her very bones. She must be very, very careful around him. His magnetism was like a force, drawing her in. Her thoughts turned to Everard and guilt started eating away at her. She had barely thought of him all day. He would be searching for her, and here she was, listening to tall stories about magic.
Tomorrow, she would find a way to escape and backtrack. She would find Everard, and they could head back to Vyheim Castle. She had so much to tell the commander. The mission could be salvaged. No, it must be salvaged.
She could kill Skyresh, of course, before she left. But she remembered that the commander had been adamant not to do so, even if presented with the opportunity. That the Jarle wanted to make an example of him, hold a public execution. To show the Stromel what happened if they rebelled.
A cold shiver went through her at the thought. The image of Skyresh, his head on the chopping block, or approaching the hangman’s noose. Sorrow swept over her at the thought. What was wrong with her? He was her enemy. This was what she was fighting for.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. And yet, the sorrow lingered. A single tear fell down her cheek, and she wiped it away fiercely.
***
Everard stared up into the night sky. It had gotten dark quickly. He needed to find somewhere to shelter for the night.
He had been wondering, aimlessly, all day. Twice, he had taken cover, when he had heard noise in the distance. Once, it had been a lone traveler, trudging through the snow. The other time, it had been a family, a man, a woman, and a child. The man had carried the child on his shoulders, and they had talked softly together.
He had searched for the bark that he needed for his arm, but he had not seen any ribwort trees. It had gotten worse. It throbbed so painfully; it was like it took over his whole body. The pain was like a drumming in his head, beating ceaselessly. He would have to change the bandage when he found shelter.
He quickly scanned the landscape. There was a low-lying ledge that he could crawl under, near a stream. It would not be as sheltered as the cave, but it would have to do.
When he was under it, he opened his bag, taking out the berries that he had picked this morning. He knew that they were safe to eat, and he stuffed them into his mouth, barely chewing. He was starving, and his supplies had long since ran out. What he wouldn’t give for a steaming bowl of stew, next to a fireside, and an ale in his hand.
The image held him for a moment. He could see it so clearly, and Avalon was by his side, smiling at him.
He looked down at his arm, carefully peeling the bandage away. It was so swollen he could barely pull it off. He touched the skin around the wound gingerly. It was hot. He knew that if he could see it properly it would be a pulsing red.
The bleeding had slowed down, at least. He tore another strip off his cloak and rebandaged it.
He put his hand to his forehead. Yes. He was hot. An infection was taking hold; he was starting to get a fever. He could feel sweat dripping down his neck. He had to get the wound seen to before it killed him—that much was clear.
But that would mean going into a settlement. How could he risk it? The rebels were on the lookout for him. They had eyes everywhere. He had no doubt that if he walked into a village, seeking help for his arm, that they would know he wasn’t who he claimed to be. They would send word quickly. Or they would kill him on the spot.
The alternative was wandering the terrain though—with the wound’s poison slowly eating away at him—until he dropped where he stood and died in the wilderness. He would be of no use then. Avalon would stay lost or captured. He couldn’t let that happen.
He thought of her again. He had failed her. He hadn’t protected her. If he could only go back in time and change it. But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t die out here. If he couldn’t find the bark that he needed tomorrow, he would head towards a settlement. It was so remote in the High Area that perhaps they hadn’t heard of him and would assist him. Perhaps.
The chances were slim, but he had to risk it. He lay down, closing his eyes. He was so very weary, and sleep overtook him in an instant.
***
Avalon turned over in her sleeping roll, restless. She had fallen asleep, almost immediately, but now she woke. She stared at the night sky. All was silent around her.
A fragment of the dream lingered on. She had experienced it again. In the past, when the dream had come, the times between had been spaced out. Sometimes, years would pass before she had it again. Since she had come here, to the Far North, it seemed that every time she slept, the dream came to her, like it was waiting at the back of her mind, lurking and sensing when sleep overtook her, so it could pounce into her mind.
The creature, with the wings. The old woman, who she had seen in the ruins. Why was it tormenting her?
She turned to her side, staring at Skyresh. He was deeply asleep. It didn’t appear that any dream troubled his mind. His face was serene; his breathing deep and even.
She knew that someone stood guard, either Minna, or Sondre, but she could easily overpower either if she had a weapon. Her eyes lingered on Skyresh’s sword, which lay beside him. Even in sleep, his hand rested on it. Ready to leap into action, if need be.
She could pry his fingers away from it though, if she were careful, and then tiptoe into the night, overpowering the guard. She could do it so quickly and so quietly that no one would even wake. By the time they all woke up in the morning, she would be far away, heading back to find Everard, and then to Vyheim Castle.
Could she? She put an arm out of her sleeping roll tentatively. The night was chilly. She started to sit up when a hand closed over her mouth. She could feel a knife pressing into her side.
“Get up,” a woman’s voice whispered into her ear. “Slowly. If you make one sound, I will kill you right here.” The knife pressed sharper into her side.
She stood up. Minna grabbed her, forcing her to walk away from the camp. Where was she taking her? Avalon stumbled slightly. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness.
“You don’t fool me,” Minna hissed into her ear, as they walked. “Skyresh may be blinded by your charms, but I know the truth, Guardian. You think that you can fool us, lead us into a trap. Your kind are all the same.”
Avalon said nothing. Could she overpower her and grab the knife from her? Yes, it was possible and urgent. This woman was going to kill her, she had no doubt of it. Then, she would dispose of her body and claim that she had run away in the night. No one would be any the wiser.
Avalon could hear the clunk of ice, slowly moving down the glacier.
She kicked behind, suddenly, feeling her leg connect with Minna’s. The woman lost her footing, careering to the ground. The knife fell from her hand.
Avalon lunged for it, scrabbling desperately in the dark, but Minna was up and elbowed her so sharply in the ribs that Avalon fell over, onto her back. The other woman’s hand closed over the knife, and she pressed it into Avalon’s neck.
“Nice try, Guardian,” she hissed. “Say good bye to your beloved Agnor.” She raised the knife, ready to plunge.
&nbs
p; Avalon grabbed her arm, fending her off. The tip of the blade hovered dangerously. They pushed against each other, vying for supremacy.
Suddenly, Minna was thrown off her. Skyresh stood there, leaning over her. His blue eyes seemed to pulse in the darkness.
He was panting, as he reached out an arm towards her, pulling her up. Minna was on the ground beside them, panting heavily. Her eyes were full of hatred, as she turned toward them and spat on the ground.
“Can either of you tell me what’s going on?” Skyresh said, turning from one to the other, his eyes glittering dangerously.
Chapter Eight
Minna got up, slowly, still panting.
“She tried to escape,” she said, staring at Skyresh. “I caught her wandering off, toward the glacier.”
Skyresh gazed at Minna. “She wandered off? And then, you overtook her, and there was a struggle?”
Minna nodded. “I told you that she would do this,” she said. “She is a guardian of the realm, Skyresh! She puts us all in danger.” She stared hard at Avalon. “You should have killed her, when we first found her, in the Outlying Zone.”
Skyresh nodded slowly. “So you keep saying,” he said. He turned to Avalon. “And what have you to say?”
Avalon stared back at him. “What is there to say?” she replied. “Nothing I say will make a difference.”
“Humor me,” he said, smiling suddenly.
Avalon sighed. “I wasn’t trying to escape,” she said. “She held a knife to me and got me to walk here. She was intending to kill me. I fought back, for my life.”
“Lies!” spat Minna, turning to Skyresh. “Of course, she would say that. It was lucky that I saw her before she got away.” She stared hard at Skyresh. “Let’s finish her off—now. Head back to the camp and forget this useless quest. She is not leading us to a weapon base. She is stringing us along, intending to deliver us into our enemy’s hands.”
Skyresh nodded again. “That is a possibility,” he said. He frowned, turning once again to Avalon.
“Well?” he said. “Why shouldn’t I kill you?”