Spellkeeper

by Courtney Privett

  Hael opened the door to Kendrian and a burst of swirling snow. She smiled and said, “Come in.”

  Kendrian's fur hood ruffled as he shook his head. “No. I need you to come to the keep.” He leaned to look past her shoulder. “You too, Ragan.”

  “The hell with that. It's warm in here. Close the gods damned door.” Ragan's chair croaked as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Kendrian's bright eyes widened. “Captain Sylleth has returned.”

  “Shit.” Ragan stood, knocking his chair to the floor. “Are the other three with him?”

  “No,” he replied, shivering. “But an Uldru is. Not one of your Uldru, Hael. He said he's from Jadeshire and he was with Mordegan Vale. He specifically asked for the two of you.”

  “I guess we're going out into the cold.” Ragan pulled a knit hat over his ears.

  Hael grabbed her cloak off a peg and threw it onto her shoulders. She slipped on her boots and followed Kendrian into the numbing cold. Snow drifted across the road to pile up along houses. She wasn't sure what to think of snow yet. Wetter snow could be balled up and thrown at friends or made into sculptures, but it left her cold and shivering when the fun was over. This was dry and powdery snow, fine particles manifested by a bitter chill. It stung her eyes and made her wish her curiosity about the new Uldru hadn't forced her from the warmth of her hearth.

  The wind whistled through the carved decorations on the keep roof. Ragan had told her about the parts of a roof—gables, eaves, trusses, purlins, spouts—but she couldn't remember which term belonged to which part. Every exposed element was coated in a fine layer of sparkling snow. Mountain Home in the winter was like walking through a crystal hive, and she thought it was beautiful.

  The keep interior wasn't as warm as Hael's little house, so she kept her cloak tightly wrapped around her body.

  “Brrr. Cold as a sarding frost elf's asshole out there.” Ragan shivered as he closed the door behind them. “Where are they? Meeting hall?”

  “Main floor solar,” Kendrian replied, his teeth chattering.

  “Why are you colder than me?” Hael asked. She was confused by the redness of his cheeks and the frost coating the loose ends of his hair.

  “I brought the Goldtrees here first. They know this Uldru man. He's from the group they freed.” His eyes jumped toward the door, then returned to Hael. “I . . . I need to find my mother. She'll be furious with me for informing her last.”

  Wind and snow slapped Hael's face as Kendrian opened the door and dashed back into the frigid night.

  “I worry about that kid,” Ragan said as he led Hael through the keep. “He's afraid of his mom and he translates that into anger.”

  “He's never angry with me,” Hael said.

  “He likes you. I suspect you're the only person he's ever liked enough to drop the angst mask.” Ragan opened a door and ushered Hael into a warm sitting room. Two fireplaces crackled on opposite walls and threw flickering shadows upon the walls. A copper-skinned, black-haired Uldru man regarded Hael with curious carnelian eyes as Captain Sylleth conversed with Rin and Daelis near the far wall.

  “Are you Hael?” the Uldru said. He formed his words differently from Hael's Uldru, but he was easier to understand than many of The Above people. Ragan joined the others and the Uldru man stood to approach Hael. He was slightly taller than her, and appeared significantly stronger. A sword in a dark leather scabbard was strapped to the belt of his black clothing. “My name is Juna. I was a slave in the Sadaral hive, but Daelis and his family freed me and the other dragon forge slaves some time ago. Is it true you found your way to the surface on your own?”

  Hael hung her cloak from a hook, then sat near one of the hearths and waited for Juna to join her. “I destroyed the Vetarex hive. I took my people through the tunnels and we found a way up near here. There is a Varaku here, but do not attack him if you see him. You might not see him because he is shy. He helped us find the way up and he has become a friend.”

  “Elsin told me about Itrek.” He nodded toward Ragan. “That must be Ragan. He looks like his father, but with ears and a tail. His father taught me how to fight so I can teach my own people.”

  “Ragan is going to teach me once my wrist is healed. It broke.” She held up her arm and moved her wrist in small circles. “It's almost better. How did you get here?”

  “We flew on Elsin's dragon. It was horrible.” Juna grinned, then leaned over his knees and stomped his feet on the rug as if making sure he was still on solid ground. “No more of that. I hate riding horses, but dragons are worse.”

  “I want one,” Hael whispered, shielding her mouth in case any of the others were looking.

  “A dragon?”

  She nodded. “One of the black ones.”

  “Why?” Juna asked, an ear and eyebrow raised.

  “Because I think it might help us take back the things that were taken from us when our first generation was born underground. There is a child here who was the first to be free. She is dragonbound and stronger than any other Uldru, including you. I want to be like her.” She glanced toward the others. They didn't seem to be paying attention to anyone but each other. “Three free Uldru babies have been born so far from my people, with at least one more to come. I need to make sure they will always be free.”

  Juna nodded. “I need to do the same for my people. Maybe my people and your people should meet and become stronger together.”

  “That may be favorable.” Hael held her hands up to feel the heat of the fire course through her arms. “How many of you are there?”

  “About one hundred and seventy. There were twenty babies when I left, and the number is likely higher now. My own child will be among the new ones. I haven't met it yet. I will soon. I'm rejoining my people after staying here for a few nights.”

  Hael lowered her hands and smiled. “There are thirty-nine of us now. Yes, I think it may be favorable to join the two hives. There aren't enough of us to keep kin from mating with kin for more than two or three generations, and there are etten in some of our lines.”

  “There is only one etten in ours, and she has no living kin. We had some in Sadaral, so more may be born in new generations. We won't kill them when they're identified like the Varaku did.”

  Hael exhaled. She needed to increase the numbers of free Uldru if her people were to thrive, and the only way she could see to do that in the short term was to gain this Uldru's trust. “Good, because I am etten. I will never bear a child of my own, but I now see my people as my children. They have chosen me to guide them as we explore our freedom.”

  Juna's pointed teeth glittered in the firelight as he smiled. “My people were lacking a leader when I left. We were freed, not led to freedom. We have no direction and although I now feel capable of protecting them, I do not think I can lead them. I've spoken about you with Elsin, and with the others from here. Kemi, Iefyr, Tessen . . . they all think highly of you. I've only just met you, but I already feel I can trust you to make the best decisions for your people. I think we need you.”

  “Where are your people?” Hael asked.

  “South of here, in the canyons. Mordegan gave me a map.”

  She nodded. “I want to combine our people. I want to take my people to yours and not bring yours here. I think it will be best for all of us.”

  “Yes, so do I.” He looked toward Elsin and winced. “I'm not eager to travel again right now, so we'll talk more in the nights to come.”

  Lyssandra burst into the solar, followed by cowering Kendrian. She grabbed Elsin by the arm and dragged both him and Kendrian into the adjoining room. The door slammed and hushed voices crept beneath the door.

  Ragan sighed as he walked over to sit on the floor next to a low table. He spread out several unfolded papers and tugged at his hair while looking over them. He huffed an irritated laugh, then shook his head. “Gods damn it. Sarding Kindala. It had to be Kindala.”

  Daelis sat next to him. A sleeping baby was cuddle
d in a sling on his chest. Rin held the baby's twin in her own sling. Daelis kissed his baby's head as he stared down at the papers. “Can you read it?”

  “Yeah, but I'm gonna need to write things down so it'll take some work. I can tell you who it's from, though.”

  “Oh?”

  Ragan glanced at the door, then whispered, “Berra Autumngold.”

  “The Pirate Queen of Auberline?” Daelis asked, a pale eyebrow raised.

  “Yep. She's the mother of my half-sister, Benny.”

  Juna leaned over the table and whispered, “I know your sister, Ragan Vale. She is a Spellkeeper.”

  Ragan startled. “What? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Is that what sarding happened to her?”

  Juna swallowed, then nodded. “Ranalae Nightshadow took her and turned her into a Spellkeeper. Then she put her in a prison and Mordegan and I found her and freed her. She's now in–”

  “Yeah, I see where she is. My dad's with her?”

  Juna nodded again. “I traveled with Benny and Mordegan from the Jade Realm.”

  “All the way across southern Bacra?”

  “Yes. It took months. It was . . . unpleasant.” Juna tilted his head and smiled at Daelis. “Do you remember me?”

  “Yes, I do,” Daelis said. He adjusted the baby's weight and nuzzled her pale hair. Hael wanted to hold her, but she didn't know if her father would allow it.

  “You helped us learn to live in your world, and now you're helping her people do the same.” Juna tilted her head toward Hael. “My people are under the protection of the Foxfire clan of Sungate.”

  “They're a good choice. They helped free you.”

  “I know.”

  “Goddamnit, Tessen,” Rin muttered. She shook her head in dismay and sat in the chair behind Daelis. “My Dwarvish is terrible. I can read maybe five words of this.”

  Without looking, Ragan reached toward her. “Let me see.”

  Hael couldn't help but stare as Rin slipped her baby off her breast and held her to her shoulder to be burped. The Uldru children born at Mountain Home were healthier than any babies born underground had ever been, but these half-elven twins were chubby and robust in a way she'd never thought possible.

  Rin kissed the baby's brow, then smiled fondly at Hael. “You can't take your eyes off them, can you? Do you want to hold her?”

  Hesitantly, Hael nodded.

  Rin walked around the table and set the baby in Hael's arms. Hael closed her eyes and inhaled the infant's milky scent. The little girl grabbed at her hand and made a soft mewling sound. She inhaled again, then opened her eyes to find a pair of sleepy blue eyes staring at her. Her heart fluttered at the touch of soft, warm skin. She wished this was her own child in her arms, but there was no magic in any world that would allow that to be possible.

  “What is this one's name?” Hael asked, her voice cracking.

  “Katina,” Rin said. She sat next to Hael and offered her hand for the baby to investigate. “Dear girl, you look so content, but there is sorrow in your eyes.”

  The second baby hiccuped, then squealed. Daelis looked up at Rin and said, “She needs you. She's trying to eat her hand.”

  Rin took the baby and returned to her seat next to Hael to nurse her. “At least they've decided to follow a similar schedule tonight.” A relaxed smile spread across her face as she brushed her hand against the nursing baby's fine hair. “This is Zoria. You haven't met their eldest brother, but they look just like he did as a baby.”

  “They have your eyes, though,” Daelis said. He leaned to the side so he could see what Ragan was reading. “Can you read that?”

  Ragan startled. “Hmm, yes. I read Dwarvish fluently, but just because I can read it doesn't mean I know what he's trying to say.” He pursed his lips and looked toward the door. The muffled voices were growing louder, but Hael still couldn't hear the words.

  “Do you need to write it out?” Rin asked.

  “Maybe. There's just something in the text I'm not quite catching. The letter he wrote me was nearly the same, cryptic and odd.” Ragan set the letter on the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This section, particularly. I've learned that solitude is not the solution to my ills. What I needed was to find someone who understood me, and focus on that person. This had unintended consequences, but I hope you can take solace in knowing I've chosen companionship over loneliness and family over despair. This is the onset of a new phase of my life, and I want you to be a part of it. We need to find each other before the equinox, because autumn arrives with something new.”

  “Goddamnit, Tessen.” Rin's whispered curse startled Katina. The baby's quivering lip was likely a prelude to a wail, so Hael pulled her braid over her shoulder and gave her the end to play with. The quivering lip stilled as Katina's interest shifted to Hael's hair. “Ragan, you need to come over to our house after this, or we need to go to yours. We need all of these letters translated and laid out next to each other. We can't do it here where someone can overhear. Not with what I think is going on.”

  Juna yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I know some things.” He flicked his wrist toward the door and shrugged. “He doesn't. I was told it needs to stay that way. He does know about Benny and Iefyr, though.”

  The confusion on Ragan's face was replaced by amusement. “What about Benny and Iefyr?”

  “She took him as her mate.” Juna shrugged, then bared his teeth. “Don't know why she needs two of them, but they all seem quite happy together.”

  “Huh.” Ragan folded up the letters and stuck them in his pocket. Within the folds, tiny Cadriel hissed, then clambered out of the pocket to sit on Ragan's knee. “Iefyr . . . hmm. I guess I still think of my sister as a kid, but she's not anymore, is she? Yeah, I can see those two together. Light knows she crushed on him something fierce as a teenager. Good for them.”

  Hael reclined against the back of the chair and cuddled the baby to her chest. The tiny girl slowly kneaded her hands against Hael's collarbone as her eyes closed and her body relaxed.

  Daelis looked up at Hael and smiled. “She's usually the harder one to get to sleep. Maybe we should have you hold her more often.”

  “I'd like that,” Hael whispered. Sitting on this padded chair with this baby was the most physically comfortable she had ever been. If it wasn't so early in the night she might have drifted off to sleep herself.

  “No!” A loud gasp was followed by something slamming into wall next to the door.

  Hael clutched the baby and eased herself fully upright. The others stared at the door, wide-eyed. Another shout, and then a sob as a repeated thump shook the wall.

  Juna shuddered and embraced himself. “He must have told her.”

  “Told her what?” Daelis asked.

  “About Liantor.”

  “Mom! No!” Kendrian shrieked. He threw open the door and tried to leave, but she grabbed his arm and yanked him out of sight.

  “You stay,” Lyssandra growled. She paced behind the open door, the only person out of the three in the room who Hael could see. “Three. I've now lost three of my children, and my only living daughter has betrayed me. What am I left with? You, Kendrian? You, my greatest disappointment, the son who used to beg me to accept him as a daughter? You are not worthy of your noble blood, or of your name.”

  “Mom, please. I had nothing to do with this,” Kendrian cried.

  “Of course you didn't. You're just . . . just a reminder that Liantor was a much greater man than you will ever be. And I've lost him, but I still have you. I don't want you. It should be you who is cold ash at the foot of a pyre, not my firstborn, not my granddaughters.”

  Daelis crept around the table to hover over Katina. Hael was prepared to pass her to her father, but they both knew that if the baby cried, Lyssandra's rage would cross the threshold into the solar.

  “Lyssandra...” Elsin was visible now, slowly approaching the Guardian. “Lyssandra, you're not thinking clearly. Don't do this to your child.”

 
“My thoughts are as clear as glass, Captain. Know your place.” Lyssandra swept her arm along a table, throwing an empty vase into a wall. She pulled at her hair and growled at Kendrian. “You are by far the most worthless of my sons. I felt so sorry for you when your brothers teased you, and I brought you with me because I was certain you'd outgrow your little fantasies and become what you needed to be. Instead you're standing here now, this morose git who is not fit to serve my Regiment in any capacity. You descend from Kings and Queens and Guardians, but you are nothing.”

  “Mom, please,” Kendrian whimpered. “I've tried to please you, but I'll never be good enough. I'll never be what you want me to be. I'll never be Liantor.”

  “How dare you speak his name!” Lyssandra drew back her arm and struck Kendrian's face with an open hand.

  Before she could slap him again, Elsin grabbed her wrist. “Guardian, you will not abuse your child in my presence. This anger is a result of your grief. Don't destroy one of your children because you lost another.”

  Lyssandra cried out, then leaned over the table and sobbed. “You look like your father, but you are not him. I need to focus my anger on Nylian, not you. You are not worth my anger. Get out of my sight. I no longer acknowledge you as my son. I'm giving you one week to leave this place. You and the Uldru.” She stood upright and rubbed her palms on the surface of the table. “Captain Sylleth, begin preparing the Regiment to return to Anthora. My Liantor's murder will not be forgotten, nor will it be forgiven.”

  Her teeth clenched and her skin blanched white, Lyssandra rushed across the solar and disappeared into the keep.

  Hael slipped Katina into her father's sling, then went into the adjoining room. Broken glass and pottery littered the floor and Kendrian stood in the middle of it, arms crossed and shaking. A purple, hand-shaped welt rose on his pale face. Glass crunching under her boots, Hael reached for him. He stepped into her arms and cried onto her shoulder.

  “Kendrian...” Elsin was next to him, his voice as gentle as his posture. He set a hand on Kendrian's back and shook his head. “She's in shock. She didn't mean any of that.”