by Serena Chase
I turned my head. Just beyond us was a fissure in the dusky orange rock of the canyon. Its sides were steep and reached at least as far above us as the vaulted entry of Holiday Palace, but its path was narrower even than the hallway that led to the palace’s Grand Hall. Wide enough for two skilled riders to enter at a time, it would be a tight fit for a skittish horse or horseman. Thankfully, none of our group fit into either of the former categories. But would it lead us out—or to a dead end that would trap us?
I looked down each side of the canyon, but I could note no other exit. The fissure had to be the way out.
The Dwonsil warriors seemed to have an endless supply of arrows. How long would it be before one of them evaded my notice and struck one of my friends?
The gestures and nods being exchanged between my friends seemed to indicate that the knights had formulated a plan. I might not be able to interpret my knights’ nods and gestures, but I could peer into Julien’s thoughts to gauge their intent.
Julien met my eyes, nodded, and tapped a finger at his temple, giving me the permission he knew I sought.
His colors rushed over me the second I sought his mind. I had to push away his tension, his fear for me—even his love—to find that which I sought.
I grasped on to the thread. His thoughts were clear, warm, and true. You are the Ryn. I trust you.
I loosened my hold just a tad and sought Gerrias’s and Kinley’s thoughts in tandem.
They were of one mind and both assumed Julien was, too. And rightly so, as I’d seen the plan in his thought, just awaiting my approval.
Kinley and Julien intended to turn and fight, delaying the warriors as long as possible, while Gerrias took me through the fissure to meet up with our friends at Shiridyn Bridge.
I shook my head. Julien and Kinley were finely skilled knights, but against five Dwonsil warriors, and arrows which may or may not be wrapped in a Cobeld curse, the risk was too great. No. I could not, would not, lose them. Not when this predicament was entirely my fault. But how could we all escape?
I knocked the next arrows from the warriors’ hands before they touched them to their bows and looked over my shoulder at the narrow way out of the canyon and then up its rocky sides. A way out was a door, right? Could I . . . ?
With a wave of my hand I sent another round of arrows to the dirt, and then spoke into the knights’ thoughts.
Follow me through the fissure!
Kinley and Gerrias shook their heads.
A strange strength welled up within me, a feeling of authority I had never experienced before. The sudden swell of Julien’s anger, however, directed at his brother and mine, surprised me, and although he did not voice it aloud, Julien’s authority as our company’s leader clearly backed mine. Whatever his next nod and gesture conveyed, it was clearly not to be argued with.
Kinley and Gerrias exchanged a quick glance, but each nodded their reluctant compliance.
Beside me, Gerrias spoke to Julien. “This is not wise. We need to draw them away from her. She must be protected at all cost!”
“Don’t do this, Rose,” Kinley pleaded. “Let us protect you!”
“You are protecting me. Now I need you to trust me as well. They will not be able to follow us.”
As Kinley ground his teeth, I sent another plea for strength to Rynloeft above that my words would prove correct.
Sudden shade alerted me that we were entering the fissure. I disabled another round of arrows, and even more swiftly than I’d turned to the rear, regained a normal riding posture. Untying the reins from the pommel, I leaned forward to urge Stanza faster. It was a tight squeeze with Gerrias beside me, but soon we exited the rock-walled passageway and entered a slightly wooded glen, followed closely by Julien and Kinley.
My hand pulsed where I held Julien’s kiss. Did he know how much his belief in me, his counsel, the very potency of his presence, strengthened me?
I circled Stanza back around until I faced the fissure.
Gerrias reached for his sword. “What are you going to do?”
“It’s a door,” I said, gesturing to the fissure. “I’m going to close it.”
I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on the overhanging rocks above the fissure. Move, I thought. Close and do not open.
A soft rumble sounded, followed by a sound like sand, raining down. Suddenly, as if they had become molten, the uppermost portions of the rock that framed the fissure broke loose and slid downward, gathering their smaller fellows with them to fill the passage.
A cloud of dust rose, as if a giant sack of flour had been pounded by an even larger fist. Even with my eyes closed I knew the fissure was now impassable. We were safe.
For now.
I focused my mind on the warriors whose pursuit had just been thwarted. The heat of anger and the denial of revenge oozed from all but one of the warriors as they fought to regain control of mounts that had been spooked by the avalanche of stone. From the warrior I had first seen, however, a sweet sense of relief echoed up from the depths of his heart. He had no true desire to harm knights of the King, and he seemed especially glad to think that if the Ryn was among them, she was safe.
He’s not our spy, but he knows he’s fighting for the wrong side, I realized. He just doesn’t know if he can change his course.
The warriors fought to regain control of their animals, but his horse, strangely, hadn’t spooked as badly as the others.
The hand of The First is with you. I sent my voice into the warrior’s mind. You can change. Fight for E’veria!
The poor man almost fell from his horse, but at least I had his attention.
You do not need to stay on the path you’ve chosen, I said. But reading his next thought, I added, No, you are not losing your mind. I am Andoven. Follow your heart to a new course. Choose a path of peace!
The message had gotten through to him, but he didn’t believe it. The ache in his heart pained me. Follow your heart. Do not betray your King.
My connection to the warrior’s thoughts broke as my own were assaulted by the force of my brother’s anger.
“Rose de Whittier!”
Kinley’s use of that name could not be good. And although the roar accompanying it was internal, I didn’t have to be Andoven to see it vibrating within him.
Julien growled my brother’s name like a warning, but Kinley paid him no mind.
“You could have been killed!” he said. “What if your little plan hadn’t worked? What then?”
“Well, it did!”
Our eyes locked, shooting the sort of sparks only siblings can fire.
Kinley pressed his lips together. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and a moment later his lips began to relax. One side twitched upward. And again, higher. When he spoke, the passion of an overprotective brother was replaced with affection. “And just where, might I ask, did you learn to ride like that?”
“In Veetri, of course.” I gave my brother a slight bow before sobering to face them all.
“Tarlo de Veir is in Canyn,” I said. “The Dwonsil warriors suspected who we were based on information their gold bought from him.” I swallowed. “And it was he who put ebonswarth into Sir Kile’s wine at the ball.”
Julien’s jaw clenched. “The King should be notified.”
I nodded, closed my eyes, and saw to it.
My father was not happy to learn that my disguise was indeed compromised, as we’d feared. But he was glad that Tarlo had been located.
I opened my eyes. “My father will see to it that Tarlo is taken into custody and tried for treason and murder.” I took a breath. “I owe you all an apology. It was my fault we were seen. I’m sorry I put us in danger and I’m sorry I worried you during the attack. I hope you will forgive me.”
“It is I who should ask forgiveness. From both you and Julien,” Kinley said, keeping his voice low, but just loud enough for us to hear. “Julien, you are in command by rank, by right, and by order of the King. And Rynnaia, ultimately, we are all at y
our command. I’m sorry I questioned you both.”
“You’re forgiven,” I said. “But my actions near Canyn put us in danger in the first place. And for that, I am deeply sorry.”
“You will always be my baby sister, but it would do me well to remember that you are the Ryn, as well. It is our job to protect you, not the other way around,” Kinley said.
I shook my head. “You are citizens of E’veria as well as knights. As such, I am your servant.”
A flash of rightness and purpose heated the thread of my thoughts still connected to Julien’s. I turned my head toward his smile.
I tilted my head. “What brought that about?”
His smile widened. “I think you know.”
And without needing to delve deeper into his thoughts, I did.
After a slow nod that practically said, “I love you, Rynnaia,” Julien led us away from the dust of the former fissure.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
We followed Gerrias along the trail and farther into the wood. When we topped a hill and could see into the distance, I caught my first glimpse of Mount Shireya.
The sun illuminated the southern side of the mountain, making it appear like a lump of blue-gray stone. It’s just an overgrown rock, I told myself. Still, I tried not to look at it too often, for each time it caught my eye, it sent a shiver through my soul.
The sound of rushing water told me we must be close to rendezvousing with our teammates. The Vorana River divided the provinces of Dynwatre and Shireya. Soon we would cross it and then our adventure would truly begin.
We rode single file along the steep banks of the swollen river and continued upriver. Now and then I peered around Gerrias, hoping to see Erielle, Sir Risson, Dyfnel, and Edru just ahead where they were expected to await us at Shiridyn Bridge. But it was a long while before they came into view. When I finally caught sight of my friends, I peered about for the bridge.
There was something there, seeming to pass over the river, but it wasn’t anything I would consider a bridge. No, the bridge must be farther downstream. At least I hoped it was. But a niggling settled in my stomach. After all, Dyfnel had said they would await us at Shiridyn Bridge, and there they were. As we neared the natural structure, my fears were confirmed.
In my mind, the very word “bridge” implied a man-made construction that connected two points—a solid sort of structure on which one could traverse from one side of the river to the other. This ineptly named “bridge” was nothing more than white stone that had somehow grown out from the east bank of the river, but had refused to grab hold of the bank on this side. As soon as we reached our friends I dismounted and walked to the edge of the steep bank.
I turned to Julien, who had come up beside me. “Surely you do not expect us to cross by way of that cliff, do you?”
“It’s the only bridge within several days’ travel and the quickest route to Mt. Shireya,” he stated.
I tried to gauge the distance between where I stood and where the “bridge” began. If three knights stood, arms spread out from their sides, that span would not reach the tip of the narrow band of arching stone.
“That is not a bridge,” I said, finally. “That is the type of thing you read about in a book and wonder at its creation. That cannot possibly serve as a conveyance of horse and man!”
“It does, actually.”
When I turned toward Edru’s voice, I did a double take. I still had a hard time getting used to seeing the young Andoven teacher in the clothes of a mainlander. On Tirandov Isle he had worn the robes common to his people. Now he wore a combination of leather, wool, and linen, just like the rest of us.
“Shiridyn Bridge is so named because it connects Shireya and Dynwatre.”
“Edru,” I said, putting my hands on my hips, “I think your definition of the word ‘connect’ could use some work.”
“Aw, Rozen, where’s your sense of adventure?” Erielle grinned and swung up into her saddle. “I suggest you make way, squire, while I show you just how this particular bridge works!”
Julien put a hand to the center of my back and guided me away from the river’s steep bank while Erielle circled her horse farther back into the trees. Surely she wasn’t going to—
Erielle dug her heels into her horse’s sides and leaned into the gallop. My heart froze in my chest as girl and beast vaulted over the empty air. I wanted to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to bear witness to the death of my friend, but I couldn’t look away.
I needn’t have worried. Erielle’s landing was solid and gracefully sure. She let out a whoop as her horse galloped across the rest of the unmoving arch to the other side of the river and into the trees before circling back around to face us.
Gerrias gave his sister a quick salute and asked, “Who wants to go next?”
Julien moved to face me. His eyes narrowed, but a trace of amusement accompanied his words. “I seem to recall that you rode a horse backward just a few hours ago.”
I swallowed. “Not over a bridge. Or half a bridge, rather.”
“Rose—en,” Kinley said, catching himself and drawing out the last syllable of my squire name just a bit. “You’re as pale as cook’s custard.”
Julien put a hand on my shoulder. “I can take you across on Salvador.”
Stanza bumped my shoulder with his nose, almost as if to say, “Don’t be a goose. We can do this.”
I closed my eyes. My horse was right. “I can do this,” I said. “If I can’t, then I’ve no use being here.”
“I know you can.” Julien gave me an encouraging smile. “This little jump is hardly a challenge for someone who can ride a horse like you do.”
I gave him a cockeyed smile and he patted my shoulder. “I’ll go ahead of you, all right?”
I nodded. In another moment he was across. I leaned my head against Stanza, but he stamped his hooves, clearly anxious to keep up with Salvador.
“All right, you overgrown shooting star,” I said and pulled myself up into the saddle, “let’s get to it, then.” I circled back into the woods until I faced the bridge. “Rynloeft be merciful,” I whispered and then took a breath and dug my heels into Stanza’s sides, but he was already on the move.
Bits of dirt tossed up as Stanza raced toward the river’s edge. I closed my eyes as he lunged. After a brief, disconcerting moment of silence as his feet left the earth, we landed on the narrow ledge. I opened my eyes and relief surged dizzily through my brain. Stanza reached the grass and slowed. As we circled back around to join Julien and Erielle, I couldn’t contain my smile.
“Welcome to Shireya,” Erielle said with a grin. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Although I’m sure the exhilaration of the jump was written across my face as I moved out of the way so the other riders could cross, my stomach threatened to expel its meager contents. I took several slow, deep breaths to dispel the urge to vomit.
In short order Risson, Edru, Kinley, Dyfnel, and Gerrias joined us. All made it safely, though Edru, who had much less experience with horses than the rest of us, remained pale for quite a while after.
There was no path on this side of the river, so we rode single file, trusting Risson’s sense of direction when the trees blocked our vision of the mountain and the sun. Shireya was densely wooded, sparsely populated, and the farther we traveled, the higher our elevation. It wasn’t a constant uphill trail, but there was an awareness of sorts of thinner, purer air and of feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time.
By the time we were four days into Shireya’s foothills I was exhausted. Still, I was surprised when the knights made no move toward their horses after our midday meal. Finally, I stood.
“We should go.”
Sir Risson shook his head. “We’re too high. We need to stop.”
“Did we veer off course?”
“No,” he said. “It’s the altitude. From here on out we’ll rest at least an hour each afternoon. The higher we climb the more rest we’ll need.”
&nbs
p; “And water,” Julien added and took a long drink from his flacon.
“Indeed.” Risson nodded. “Drink up, young squire,” he said with a wink. “And nap if you’re able. You’ll be glad you did.”
And indeed I was.
Each day passed in the same manner. During nap breaks and while we camped overnight, the knights alternated guard duties. At first I found the break in our progress a frustrating delay to our quest, but as the thinner air took its toll on my energy reserves, I was glad for the wisdom of those who’d traveled here before.
Risson turned out to be incredibly adept at setting snares to catch small game, and since Edru proved to be especially gifted at preparing the meat Risson provided, we enjoyed many more satisfying meals than I would have imagined when we first set out.
We had just gotten a fire going one night when a sound broke through the darkness. Somewhere between a scream and a growl, it sounded entirely animal. And all too close. Everyone froze.
“What was that?” I whispered to Julien.
“Cat.” He whispered back and put his finger to his lips.
A cat? Surely I’d misunderstood.
While Julien exchanged a series of quick, silent gestures with Kinley, Gerrias, and Risson, I went through the alphabet in my head trying to figure out what rhymed with “cat” that could make such a terrible sound. Bat and rat were the only other animals I could come up with, and neither seemed a plausible explanation.
Just when I was about to break Julien’s pantomimed order of silence, the knights rose with slow, silent movements and moved toward the horses. The next thing I knew, Salvador was directly behind me, but turned sideways, as if providing a barricade between me and the cat-bat-rat creature. Edru and Dyfnel slid into the spaces beside me and Erielle positioned herself directly between me and the sputtering fire. She held a bow, with an arrow nocked and ready.
A bow and arrow? Where did she get that? We had been traveling for many days and I hadn’t noticed anything like that on her horse! Now all of a sudden it was in her hands?
I choked down a giggle that came out as a little gasp when the cat-bat-rat let forth another screaming howl.