Aerenden: The Zeiihbu Master (Ærenden)

by Kristen Taber

  He hesitated. “Maybe. There's only one way to find out. I'm afraid I'm not as good at this as Sal was, or Nick for that matter.” He collected several handfuls of the leaves, shoving them into the small leather bag tied to his belt as he stood. “I'm still not certain why he isn't on this mission. I understand the Elders' logic, I suppose, but it's not the first time you've been in danger together. You two were left alone in your cabin for several months, weren't you?”

  “Yes,” Meaghan answered and turned, leading the way toward the next set of rabbit traps. If she was following Talea's directions correctly, they should be no more than a quarter mile to the west. “But Cal was watching us and that wasn't as dangerous as this mission.”

  “Right,” Artair responded, humor tingeing his voice. “Because the battle the three of us fought together was no more dangerous than attending a Founder's Festival.”

  Meaghan sighed and quickened her pace. Artair did not seem to catch the hint. He matched her pace and continued the conversation. “So what's the real reason he's staying behind?” he prompted.

  She banked at the white birch tree as Talea had told her, and stepped up the pace. “You already know the reason,” she answered, keeping the emotion out of her voice. “The Elders wanted to ensure one of us survived this mission.”

  “It should have been you,” Artair said. The sound of his feet shuffling over the ground stopped and Meaghan realized he no longer followed her. She checked her impulse to continue without him and turned. He studied her with an intensity that matched the apprehension and suspicion she felt within him.

  “I'd appreciate if you wouldn't accuse me of anything,” she said before he had a chance to voice his emotions. She crossed her arms over her chest. “There's nothing sinister about me not sharing information. The decisions Nick and I make with the Elders don't concern you.”

  “Those decisions concern everyone,” Artair countered. Though his own agitation rose to match hers, he did not match her posture. He remained relaxed and that irritated her more. “At least the ones that affect us do. The five of us who've joined you and Cal on Faillen's mission have done so because you're our Queen. We respect that. But you've asked us to march to our deaths. Doing so blindly is difficult for me.”

  “Death on this mission isn't certain,” Meaghan argued, “and you're not blind to what we're doing. As we've told you, we're heading to Zeiihbu.”

  “Straight into a dranx den, so to speak,” Artair said, narrowing his eyes. “I consider that a guarantee of death, unless you have a solid plan. From what I can tell, you don't.”

  “I do,” she protested.

  “You have a plan,” he agreed, “but it's obviously not solid. Not when you doubt it yourself. Maybe if you shared it with us, we could help you develop it. At the very least, I'd like to know why we're heading toward Gormand's Gorge. You say it's to get help, but no one lives on the mountains, and the few villages below the mountains are inhabited by a few hundred people total, none of them strong enough to help us.”

  “You don't know that,” she responded. Turning from him, she continued walking.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “Where are you going?”

  His anger spiked when she did not respond, and then branches rustled behind her as he followed.

  “I've been there before,” he continued after he caught up to her. “I went with Sal once to a little village that's now destroyed. I spent several weeks with the people there and I learned a lot about the area. There are no Guardians in that part of the country and no, unusual powers. Just a handful of people who can create goods, like clothing. And a guy who can make electricity. It's useful for them, since they're so remote, but it's not going to help us much.”

  “The old Spellmaster came from there,” Meaghan pointed out.

  “Right, but Garon killed him and his entire family so there's no hope of the power resurfacing within his descendants.” Artair shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned at her. “You and I both know that going to those mountains makes no sense, so why are we?”

  She remained silent.

  “Fine,” he snapped. “If you're not going to tell me why we're making the detour, at least tell me why we're rescuing Faillen's son.”

  The comment stopped her in her tracks. She stared at him, appalled that he would consider not rescuing Caide to be an option. “How can you ask that?”

  “Look, it's not like I don't feel bad for him, but you and Faillen are risking your lives and the lives of six Guardians for one person. Six Guardians, I might add, who have valuable powers. If you want to save Ærenden from Garon—”

  “I need Faillen's help to do it,” Meaghan interrupted. Her cheeks flared hot with her anger as she stared Artair down. She took a step toward him, toying with the idea of reviving the dried out creeper vines she saw at his feet. She had pinned another man that way once, and she doubted it would be any less gratifying to do the same to Artair. Artair followed her gaze to the ground and stepped out of reach of the vines. It seemed he had heard about that incident already.

  “I know you trust Faillen,” Artair continued, softening his tone, “but you have to understand that the rest of us are having trouble following your lead on that. The Zeiihbuans may have been your mother's allies once, but they haven't done anything for her people since she was killed. Instead of aiding us in the war against Garon, they ignored our requests for help. Do you honestly think that's going to change because of this mission? Once Faillen's son is free, he'll break whatever promises he's made to you.”

  “Is that so?” she asked. “And who are you referring to when you say 'the rest of us'?”

  “Well,” he hesitated, but answered when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Talea and Talis, though it's possible Eudor and Malaki might feel the same. I don't know. We've never discussed it.”

  “I see.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What I don't see is how you can help when you don't feel the mission is a valid one. Maybe you should return home. What we're doing is dangerous enough without someone planning a mutiny.”

  “Come on, Meaghan. It's hardly mutiny.”

  For a brief second she felt an emotion spark within him that she could not place. Was it fear? She thought so, but he buried it under anger and she lost hold of it.

  “I would think if you trust us enough to protect you, then you ought to be able to trust us with the details of our mission. We aren't the enemy.”

  “Maybe she doesn't trust you, Artie. Did you ever think of that?”

  Cal stepped out of the thickest part of the forest to stand beside Meaghan. She jumped, but Artair only glared at the Elder.

  “Don't call me Artie,” Artair said. “She obviously trusts me or I wouldn't be here.”

  “She barely knows you. Fighting a battle with someone doesn't make you best buddies. Meaghan is wise enough to understand that, even if you aren't.”

  “She still invited me on the mission. She wouldn't have done that if I hadn't proven myself in battle.”

  “I chose the people on this team,” Cal told him.

  “Is that so?” Artair crossed his arms in front of him and frowned. “Why do I have a hard time believing that? You've disliked me from the beginning.”

  “Soon after, yes,” Cal confirmed. “You don't have the appropriate respect for your Queen. You have no right to second guess her.”

  “I'm not second guessing her. I'm just trying to—”

  “Get information from her she doesn't want to share,” Cal interrupted. He took a step closer to Artair, towering over him. Artair refused to give any ground, but his hands trembled when Cal continued to growl at him. “And you question the nature of her mission. That sounds a lot like second guessing her to me.”

  Artair opened his mouth, but then closed it over his protest in deference to Cal's glare. The young man turned his eyes toward Meaghan, seeking help in the argument, but when she chose not to defend him, he nodded. She felt hurt replace his anger before he turned and walked away.<
br />
  Cal waited until Artair disappeared into the forest before he addressed Meaghan. “You didn't sense me approach,” he accused. “I saw you jump when I spoke.”

  “I was focusing too much on my fight with Artair,” she admitted.

  “Something you never would have done before. You did it because you're tired. What if I'd been a Mardróch?”

  “You made your point earlier,” she said and headed in the direction of the last rabbit trap. “I'm tired and careless. I already know that. It's why Artair was looking for the herb.”

  “Why did you go with him?” Cal asked, a step behind her. “You should have stayed by my side.”

  She shrugged. “Artair can protect me well enough.”

  “It doesn't appear that way to me,” Cal responded. “I snuck up on him too.”

  “Perhaps, but if you'd been dangerous, he would have sensed you. You aren't.”

  Cal grunted. “Maybe not to you, but I'm about ready to wring his neck.”

  She laughed. “I felt the same way a moment ago. It was a temporary thing for me, though. I trust him normally. You know that, don't you?”

  “Yeah. I just don't see why. He doesn't make a good soldier. He questions you too much. That's dangerous in a battle situation.”

  “He doesn't question me when it matters,” she told him. “He's still following us despite his doubts, isn't he?”

  “For now,” Cal conceded. “But if he's been colluding with Talea and Talis, he may not be much longer.”

  “I wouldn't call it colluding.”

  “No? You called it mutiny a minute ago.”

  Meaghan sighed and turned at a rock shaped like a cross. She scanned the trees for one with gold leaves, and then dropped her eyes to the lowest branch. Two more rabbits hung in the snares. Cal spotted the tree at the same time and walked ahead of her to cut the rabbits down. He pulled a bag from inside his cloak and placed the rabbits inside, cinching the bag tight with a piece of rope.

  “You have nothing to say for yourself?” Cal asked when he returned to her.

  “Nothing constructive,” she admitted. “Maybe I let my argument with Artair get a little out of hand, but I don't think he means any harm. I honestly can't say I'd act any differently in his position. He doesn't know what's going on and this is not an easy mission.”

  “Easy or not, it's his job to follow orders. He shouldn't be questioning you. None of them should.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “And maybe we should tell them about the whole mission.”

  “Why? They won't be participating in half of it. Telling them will only complicate things.”

  Meaghan shrugged. “It seems to me not telling them complicates things more, but I'll defer to your judgment. In the meantime, I wish you would give Artair a chance. He's not as bad as you think.”

  “We'll see about that,” Cal said. “I question his motives.”

  “How so?”

  “It's nothing I want to discuss right now,” Cal replied and removed the sack she carried from her hands. He hefted it. “Feels like breakfast will be a good one. I'm famished. A regular diet of silten has turned my stomach upside down.” He grinned. “Race you back to camp?”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than she had already sprinted yards ahead of him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AS MEAGHAN had anticipated, the weather turned warmer by mid-day. She allowed her cloak to fall from her shoulders, trailing down her back like a cape. The horse at her side whinnied, then reared, and she tightened her hold on his reins before placing a hand on his muzzle to soothe him. “There, there,” she said, her tone hushed to preserve the quiet the group had maintained since they left camp. She waited a few seconds for the horse to grow antsy again, but when he did not, she relaxed her grip, leading him with a softer hand. A moment later, he yanked his head in the opposite direction, nearly freeing himself of her grasp.

  “Damn it, Illius,” she said, latching on to the reins with both hands and planting her feet to prevent him from dragging her. “Would you cut that out? What's wrong with you?”

  “He doesn't like something in the forest,” Faillen answered as he drew up alongside her. Handing his horse's reins to Talis, he steadied Meaghan's horse with a firm hand. Cal drew up alongside Faillen and turned his horse over to Talea.

  “We'll catch up with you,” he told her.

  She nodded and led the group ahead.

  “I've noticed that your horse seems to be more observant than the others,” Faillen told Meaghan. Illius pawed the earth, but steadied his hooves when Faillen stroked his mane. Faillen spoke to the animal. “What are you trying to tell us, Illius?” he asked. “Do you hear something we don't?”

  The animal's eyes darted to the left. Meaghan scanned the trees for any sign of trouble, but could not see anything out of the ordinary. A slight breeze tickled the tops of several low bushes. A bird hopped from branch to branch in a pine tree. A lizard scurried across a rock. She frowned at Cal.

  “Can you see anything using the wind?” she asked him.

  Cal pinched his lips together, narrowing his eyes as he commanded his power over the elements, then shook his head. “I don't think there's—”

  “Quiet,” Faillen said, his voice barely audible above the horse's next whinny. He pushed the reins back into Meaghan's hand, and then pulled an arrow from his quiver, seating it in his bow and letting it fly before Meaghan could react or see the focus of his aim. A deathly howl escaped from the trees, followed by the heavy rustle of leaves as something bounded away from them. Despite the speed of Faillen's prey, it was no match for the swift purchase of his second arrow. A heavy thud announced that Faillen had found his target.

  “What was that?” Cal asked.

  Faillen slung his bow over his shoulder. “You mean to tell me you didn't see it?”

  “Obviously not,” Cal said, and then rolled his eyes when Faillen grinned. “But I guess by your reaction we weren't in any danger.”

  “Not right away, no,” Faillen responded. “But we could have been tonight if this fellow hadn't warned us. Good boy,” he said, patting Meaghan's horse on the head. “I'll be right back.”

  Faillen disappeared into the forest, returning a few minutes later with the body of a large cat under each arm. He set them down on the ground in front of Meaghan and she gasped when she saw the animals.

  The boar-sized felines had the construction of a pit bull, with stocky front legs and broad shoulders that commanded attention away from the rest of their bodies. They did not seem built for speed, but Meaghan doubted they needed it for hunting. The animals had been silent as they followed the rescue party. That trait would allow them to get close enough to their prey to attack. Once within combat range, tail spikes resembling porcupine quills and two long, saber teeth ensured an easy fight. Cal flipped up one of the creature's lips and Meaghan shuddered. Two rows of jagged teeth filled the animal's gaping half-smile. Dried brown blood from a recent kill coated each massive tooth. Their fur matched the color of the tree trunks perfectly and Meaghan did not have to wonder how she and Cal had not noticed them. She was surprised that Faillen had.

  Meaghan knelt down beside one of the animals and traced a hand down its body, fascinated by the contrast between its bristly top hair and cashmere-like undercoat.

  “I've never seen anything like this before,” she said.

  “Neither have I,” Cal said. He lifted one of the cat's eyelids and frowned at its red pupil. “Can it freeze its prey?”

  “Yes,” Faillen said. “Mostly small animals, but they've been known to freeze smaller children on occasion.”

  Meaghan felt sick. “They eat children?”

  “Freeze them,” Faillen corrected her. “I've never heard of one killing a child, though I'm not entirely certain it's from lack of trying. In every case I know, someone was around to scare the cats off before they could cause any damage. I can't say the same for a pack of these animals though.”

  “What do you mean
?”

  “One or two cats aren't much of a threat. They scare easily, especially during the day. But a pack is another story. They hunt together at night and an adult human represents a feast for them.”

  “So these two were scouts,” Cal guessed. “It's a good thing Illius noticed them or we would have been caught by surprise tonight. That never should have happened, though.”

  “Why?” Faillen asked. “They aren't exactly easy to spot. I barely caught their eyes in the trees, and I'm used to looking for them.”

  “Because they're magical,” Cal told him and frowned down at the cat. “Guardians can sense magic. When they first approached, all six of us should have noticed.”

  “Could they have a blocking power like Nick's?” Meaghan asked.

  “It's possible, but,” Cal shook his head, “unlikely. Nick's power only shows up in conjunction with your empath power, and it's never been seen in animals before.”

  “Either way, we should catch up to the others,” Faillen said. “Illius was most likely reacting to the cats' gathering call. By nightfall there could be half a dozen more of these and I'd rather not make it easier for them to attack.”

  “Gathering call?” Meaghan asked, standing up. “I didn't hear anything.”

  “It's a high pitched whistle that only certain animals can hear.”

  “Like a dog whistle,” Meaghan said and then sighed when both Cal and Faillen shot her a puzzled look. “Never mind. It's something from my old life.”

  “I think we can figure that one out on our own anyway,” Cal told her, nudging the body of one of the cats with his foot. “They're solid. What do they weigh? Thirty-five, maybe forty pounds apiece?”

  “About that,” Faillen responded. He handed Meaghan's reins back to her. Reaching down to pick one of the animals up, he threw it over the back of her horse. He secured it with a length of rope. The second animal soon joined the first.

  “What are they called?” Meaghan asked.

  “Razor beasts,” Faillen said, “because of their claws.” He lifted one of the animal's paws and pressed on its soft padding. Razor sharp claws extended an inch from the animal's toes. “The ground in Zeiihbu tends to be hard at times. Their claws help them dig dens deep into the earth so they can hibernate in the winter. They usually emerge around this time of year.”