“No Kyrean ship will sail more than a few leagues off the coast in the Southern Sea, Rayna. They hug the coastline as closely as they can. Some Corsairs and the like will travel the Bay of Ketos, but the Southern Sea itself? Never.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Mina answered, “any crew who has tried is never heard from again.”
“Monsters,” Kellan whispered in her ear. “In the deep parts, anyway.”
Though Rayna yearned for a more satisfactory answer, no one provided her with one. Channon woke up then, and talk turned to further explanation of how Rayna had saved him and what little they knew of the war between Fenear and Maenor. By the time night fell, Channon had heard most of what there was to hear. Kellan gave Channon and Rayna valerian root and chamomile tea, but even so, Rayna did not pass into sleep until Mina snored on one side of her and Channon twitched with nightmares on the other.
Rayna’s stomach sailed into her throat. She was falling, but before the scream building behind her tongue could escape, a hand grasped hers, towing her onto the icy ridge. She looked up, expecting to see her father, but found Lumae’s eerie yellow-green eyes. The goddess led Rayna away from the edge.
“I don’t understand,” Rayna said. “Why am I still dreaming of the mountain? I did what I was supposed to do. Channon is safe.”
Freezing air gusted over them, and Lumae turned her face to the biting wind. Her quiet voice still resonated over the squall. “This is not the mountain, Rayna.”
Rayna crossed her arms over her chest. “It certainly looks like it.”
“You have been Awakened. You are the first twice-blessed seer in a very long time to have reached the Eye. You can unlock the full might of the divine magic gifted to you by myself and our Father, if you so choose. So this is not the mountain–or rather not just the mountain. It is your mountain, your place of refuge, of seeing. If you would prefer your center to appear differently, then you need only think it.”
Lumae’s words made no more sense than they ever had, but Rayna did not want to be on that wretched mountaintop any longer. She wondered where she would like to be instead, thinking first of her own den. There was no burst of light, no fading vision, and yet the frozen bleakness was gone. Rayna and Lumae instead stood in Rayna’s den. She glanced around, longingly taking in the familiar sights and smells. Her pallet lay in the corner, the furs rumpled as if she had just slept in it. A fire crackled in her hearth, a vest and pair of pants in need of washing waited by the exit. For the first time in almost three months, she was home.
“This is not your den, Rayna.” Lumae wandered to the hearth. Coer's knife rested on the mantel. He had given it to Rayna weeks after she had left home, but it still seemed right that it was there. “We are not at the Southern Densite any more than we were at the Eye of Heaven a moment ago. Do you understand?”
“No, but I’ve come to accept that.” She joined Lumae by the hearth, running her fingers along the hilt of Coer’s knife. “You say I have awakened my potential. Can I use this potential to help Fenear?”
“Perhaps, but you must start by seeing it. Focus on someone you left behind. Someone you love.”
Bayne’s face came to her mind. She remembered the last time they had been together, how the lines had crinkled around his dark eyes, how she had been sure she would never see him again. Rayna brushed away her tears, staggering back as the scene changed. It was night. Bayne sat alone by the fading embers of the Densite’s central fire, his face hidden in his hands. It took Rayna several moments to understand that he was crying. It was the first time she had ever seen him cry.
She glanced at Lumae, whose wolf eyes shone in the glow of the flames. “Is this real?”
“This is real, and this is now.”
Rayna approached Bayne, kneeling beside him. She tried to take his hand, but her palm slid through his like smoke. “Bayne?”
“He cannot hear you.” Lumae knelt on Bayne’s other side.
“Do you know why he’s….” Rayna’s voice melted into silence.
“Fenear is falling. Rhael and his Da’ Gammorn have destroyed every Densite, save one. Soon he will attack the Southern Densite, too, with an army too large, and too gruesome, to be beaten. And,” Lumae waved toward the green bead resting on Bayne’s knee, “he misses you.”
Rayna reached for Bayne’s wrists to tear them from his face. Again her hands passed through as if not there at all. She swallowed a sob and turned to Lumae instead. “You say Fenear will fall, but there has to be a way to save it.” Lumae did not reply. “There has to be,” Rayna repeated.
“If there were, it would be of no use. Rhael will attack long before you can reach Fenear.” Lumae grasped Rayna’s hand. “But you must try. Remember, water must run with wolf once more.”
“Ray? Ray? Are you all right?” Channon’s arms wrapped around her. She hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder until all she could smell was his leather and pine scent.
“I had a dream.” She had explained about her dreams and Thera’s sleeping draughts to him two days prior in a whispered conversation in Laera’s sled. The tension in his muscles told her that he understood that she did not mean a regular dream, or even a vivid nightmare like those that had plagued him since the mountain.
“What did you see?” He pulled away just enough to look in her eyes. Tears pricked her eyes at the sight of his face devoid of boyish softness. The medicine and the nutrient-rich antler broth the Sylrians had made helped, but Rayna sensed that no such softness would ever return. He was still handsome, now that the bruising had begun to fade, and she could see his high cheekbones and straight jaw once more, but he looked aged by years.
She had promised herself that she would tell Channon how she felt about him once he was well. Yet each time she tried to form the words something stopped her. She loved Channon. But everything had changed since the mountain. He had changed. It didn't feel right or fair to tell him yet. They both needed time to adjust to their new reality and to become accustomed to each other again.
“Ray?” Channon prompted. “What did you see?”
She glanced at Mina who snored near the fire. Lonian and Laera’s silhouettes huddled several tail-lengths away, keeping watch. Only Kellan seemed to notice that they had woken up. He lay on his back on the other side of the fire, but she could tell by his shallow breaths that he was awake. Rayna pointed to Mina, putting her finger on her lips before sliding from her sleeping sack. Channon followed and they walked a few tail-lengths from the others. The snow cover was slushy here, and even their careful steps squelched in the cold muck. Rayna caught a glimpse of Laera’s reflective gaze, but the dog turned away a moment later.
“I saw Bayne.” Rayna hated the way the words wavered. “He’s still alive, but Fenear is almost gone. The Southern Densite is all that stands between Rhael and our destruction, but I don’t think…Bayne doesn’t think it will be enough.”
“What can we do?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Lumae had said “water must run with wolf once more.” She must have meant Alvorn was their only hope for reinforcements, but what good would reinforcements do if they were too late?
“We can fight.” The certainty in Channon’s voice surprised her. “Even if we’re the only two Fenearens left in all Osterna, we fight for our pack. What other choice do we have?”
Channon was right. Even if Fenear and everyone she loved were destroyed, they had to go home. They had to defend their pack if they could, and avenge them if they could not. For a wolf, there was no other way.
“You can stay with us.” Neither of them had heard Kellan approach. “Please.” He clasped Rayna’s shoulder. “You don’t have to die, either of you.”
“Everyone has to die.” Channon stared at Kellan’s hand on Rayna's shoulder. A muscle trembled in his jaw.
“Aye, someday.” Kellan rolled his eyes. “I just saved both your lives. I wouldn’t have bothered if I had known you were going to throw them away at y
our first chance.”
Rayna pushed Kellan’s hand away. “Fighting for Fenear, for our pack, is not throwing away our lives. Hiding while everything we stand for is destroyed would be worse than death.”
“You don’t understand, Kemar,” said Channon.
“No. I do understand. Red, I thought you were the most stubborn person I had ever met, but I’m beginning to think it might be a Fenearen trait.” He tugged at his tangled black hair. “I am watching my own nation wither to nothing. I know what it is to lose your culture, to lose your family, but I also know what it is to survive. Stay with us; at least you have a chance at a life.”
“I’d rather die for Fenear than live a thousand lifetimes for myself,” Rayna said.
“Then you’re a fool, both of you.” Kellan turned toward the camp, but stopped. “What about Mina?”
“What about Mina?”
“There is no way she's leaving you after all you two have been through. Would you sign her death warrant, too?”
“I would never hurt Mina! How dare you suggest that?” Rayna growled. Channon echoed it with a throaty rumble.
“Mina–”
“Mina,” Mina's voice cut in from the camp, “can make her own decisions. Now everyone go back to sleep before I take out my bow and make the entire life versus death conversation irrelevant.”
“Sorry, Mina.” Rayna returned to her spot by the fire. Channon followed, tucking his arm beneath her as she settled back into her furs. His fingers traced her shoulder, calming her.
“Don’t apologize,” Mina muttered. “Just sleep. We still have a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to get to Fenear in time.”
Rayna swallowed her response. No one else had to know what Lumae had told her. If she did not repeat what she had learned–that they would never make it back in time–perhaps it would stop being true. Guilt, confusion, and anger battled within her, leaving her stomach knotted and her mind tattered. Somewhere along the way, she fell asleep, though mercifully, no more dreams came.
The next day, Channon was well enough to walk along with the others. Like the Kyrean lands close to Osterna Sud, the pine forests south of the Sylrian borders proved mostly uninhabited by humans. There were signs of other residents though: moose, wolverines, lynxes, martens, hares, owls, and foxes. When they crested a hill, Lonian pointed out a small fur-trapping village.
“Dalliford. Decent folk. Keep well enough to themselves and aren’t above a little trading with their savage neighbors. Haven’t been back for a while, though. Garrison caught wind of our relationship with them, and the bastard can be very persuasive and creative in his tactics.” He wrinkled his nose. “Best we keep moving.”
Kellan whispered to Rayna, “Drawn and quartered. The mayor and his whole family. Pieces of them left to freeze for all to see. I don’t think they’re going to be interested in trading again for a long time.”
A sharp pain burned her abdomen as she recalled Garrison torturing her with Coer's knife. The stitches were out, the wound healed, but she would always carry the scar he had given her. As would the people of Dalliford.
“Where can we board a ship, then, Lonian?” Channon asked. He gave no sign that he had heard Kellan, though Rayna was sure he had.
“Vanuuk. Not much to her besides a tiny harbor and a handful of shanties, but traders there don't ask questions where coin is involved.” They reached the bottom of the next hill, and the pines thinned. The sound of rushing water and fatty salmon scent signaled the presence of a nearby river. “We’ll walk the banks of the Vanwar for another three leagues, cross at the bridge, and then we’ll be there. Pull your hoods up before we arrive.”
“Because five mysterious strangers hiding their faces won’t be suspicious?” Kellan nodded to Laera. “Five mysterious hooded strangers and a dog?”
“Vanuuk is full of mysterious strangers, nephew. No one will turn an eye on us, but there’s a good chance Terayan has men looking for Rayna and Mina, maybe even a reward for their capture.”
Rayna tucked every last strand her of distinctive red hair into her hood. The last thing they needed was another delay. They soon reached the banks of the Vanwar. The river was swollen with melted snow, nearly overtaking the narrow bridge. Once they crossed, the taiga turned muddier and rockier as they trekked toward the coast. Mina and Kellan talked about everything from their favorite foods to their most recent romances, and Rayna was glad to listen. Their stories and laughter made her feel almost normal. Beside her, Channon trudged on without a word. She tried to get him to speak, but he never answered any question beyond a yes or a no. Her frustration soon gave way to grief–grief for the smiling boy who always knew what to say, whose laugh she had loved beyond all others. Every now and then she saw a trace of him, but it was only an echo. Given all he had been through, it was possible Channon would never be that person again.
They reached Vanuuk village when the sun hung just above the horizon. Lonian’s description of Vanuuk was a generous one. A dozen weather-beaten shacks lined a central plaza that was more mud than cobblestone. A well marked the center of the square. Four men huddled around it, jangling tin cups at passersby. Skinny chickens and goats eyed Laera from their pens, and a handful of mangy dogs darted away with tucked tails at the sight of them. Like Kanton, the reek of alcohol was thick, but the air in Vanuuk was colder, saltier, and staler.
“Cheerful sort of place,” Mina said as a hollow-eyed woman ghosted into a noisy shanty marked The Osprey’s Landing.
“It’s hard times up north.” Lonian sighed. “These days the only time the citizens here see the Council Guard is when they’re being interrogated or taxed–and they wonder why our people want to maintain our independence.” He led them past the well and into a filthy alley between two of the larger shacks.
“Wait here. There’s a captain who owes me a favor. I’m going to find him and get ship's passage for the two–”
“Three,” Mina corrected.
“No.” Rayna took her friend’s hands. “You want to help us, and I love you for that, but this isn’t your fight. You’ve risked your life enough for me. Please, just–”
“Just what?” Mina interrupted. “Go home? You want to tell me where that is? And in case you’ve forgotten, Garrison and his men captured me, too. I’m as much of a fugitive as you are in the Kyrean Republic.”
“Come back to the Provinces with us,” said Kellan.
Mina half-smiled. “As much as I’ve enjoyed the company, Kemar and Kemar senior, you ever notice how damn cold it is up here?” She shivered for effect. “I was never meant for this kind of climate. Now Fenear is about as south as you can go on this continent. Sounds lovely.”
“Lovely and war-torn,” Channon spoke for the first time since reaching the village.
“That’s another thing.” She dropped Rayna’s hand and took Channon’s instead. He flinched, but did not pull away. “I’ve barely had any time to figure you out, Channon, the man this whole adventure’s been about. It was a lot of work keeping Wolfie alive long enough to save you. The least I deserve is a bit more time to know you.”
“If you come with us, you might die. You will almost certainly die,” Rayna said.
“I know.” Mina’s voice lost its laughter suddenly, like someone blowing out a candle. “I know, Rayna, and I’m scared. But you’re wrong. This is my fight. What’s happening to your home isn’t right, and if it isn't stopped, who knows what other terrible things could follow? Besides, don’t forget you'll be facing death yourself, and I have quite the talent for keeping you alive. You need me, and I need to know that I'll do what's right, even when it isn't easy.”
Mina had perfectly echoed Bayne’s advice to Rayna. Rayna closed her eyes, forcing back tears. “All right. Thank you, Mina. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you.”
“Don’t you remember?” The teasing smile returned to Mina's lips. “You almost got yourself eaten by a bear.”
“Three, then.” Lonian clicked his to
ngue at Laera, and they slid out of the alley. “Stay here.” He speared his nephew with a stern look. “And stay out of trouble.”
“Always, Uncle.” Kellan flashed his white smile. Lonian grumbled, but he and Laera turned the corner, leaving the other four alone.
Mina hopped onto an overturned barrel and settled into a cross-legged position. “Think there will be time for a quick dip in the river before we board this ship? A bath seems like a good idea before we spend the next week at sea.”
“The Vanwar’s cold and brackish, but I’d be happy to escort you.” Kellan smirked. “I’ll keep a close eye on you; wouldn’t want any undesirables sneaking a peek.”
“No, certainly not, at least not without being paid.”
“I’d pay.”
“Kellan, darling, there aren’t enough coins in the world.”
“Can you two be quiet?” Channon’s angry voice shocked them all into silence. He stood against the wall, back rigid and fists clenched.
“Are you…” Rayna did not finish her question as she took Channon’s white-knuckled hands. Of course, he was not all right.
“I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You should be wearing your gloves. Your hands are freezing.” Despite the cold, warmth lanced through her body when his fingers relaxed and twined into hers.
“Red.” Kellan touched her shoulder, reminding her of the other two people in the alley. “Can we talk? Alone?”
“Lonian said to stay here.” Rayna reluctantly released Channon’s hand. He did not seem to notice. His shadowed blue gaze switched to Kellan.
“It will only take a moment. Please, Rayna. This might be the last time we ever see one another. Don’t make me beg.”
“Only a moment.”
“Thank you.” He walked farther into the alley where it opened onto scrubby, debris-strewn ground. Kellan led them several tail-lengths up a rocky hill. When they reached the top, the ocean greeted them from below. Frothy winter waves crashed against the cliff, and a harsh wind blew back their hoods. Rayna pulled hers back, but Kellan let his black hair whirl in the breeze.
Hex Breaker (The Fenearen Chronicles Book 1) Page 35