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Visioner (The Shifter War Book 2)

Page 18

by K K Ness


  He drove his fist under the water to the hard rock below.

  The House of Kailon awakened with a roar of light on the horizon. Its kiandrite blasted across the land, following a massive new path that matched the glyph radiating from Danil’s palm.

  The molten blackness exploded as iridescent light poured into the grove. The kiandrite pushed on, washing over the cowering magi as it swept over scorched earth.

  Kaul shielded his eyes, howling as though in pain. The kiandrite slammed into him, toppling him head over feet out of the water. Verdant vines rapidly burst out of the ash, wrapping around his legs, chest, and arms where he lay. Kaul’s hands became trapped at his sides, unable to so much as twitch to make an enchantment.

  His glowing eyes raged from under the helm as more vines covered his mouth and jaw in a gag.

  Its work done, the kiandrite seeped back into the ground with a gentle hum. Iridescent veins threaded through the rocks and boulders, showering soft light on the tiny budding ferns and plants now pushing up through the soil. A calm, contented quiet settled over the grove.

  Rising, Danil gazed about in awe.

  The kiandrite was a tinkling bell in the back of his mind. It rang out across the land, growing in potency until it became a thunderous declaration.

  Kailon was finally free.

  31

  Green eyes filled with wonder, Hafryn strode to the edge of the pool and offered Danil his hand. “This was your plan, fala?”

  Danil barked a laugh as he splashed out of the water, the glyph on his palm emitting tranquil warmth. His crystal gave it a cheerful welcome.

  The kiandrite all about them thrummed with contentment, save only for the veins tasked with containing Kaul. The dread lord was a malevolent force, murder in his eyes.

  Danil resisted a shudder.

  Hafryn hugged him close. “Let’s not do this again, eh?” he whispered into Danil’s neck.

  Knowing how close they’d come to losing everything, Danil held on tight. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

  Elania and Blutark joined them, ash-smeared and weary but smiling nonetheless. Sonnen landed moments later, alighting with a powerful whomp of his wings. The air shimmered as he transformed, his face a mix of awe and relief. Kiandrite veins glittered as the last of the smoke dissipated.

  “It is Kailon as it was always meant to be,” Sonnen stated as he gazed about the grove. The dragon prince kneeled beside one vein, his expression reverent. “Forgive me for doubting you,” he murmured, head bowed.

  The kiandrite glowed an absolving blue.

  Sonnen’s gaze hardened as it swept to Kaul. “And you.” He rose, stalking to where the dread lord lay bound. “I would leave you here to rot were it not an insult to have your foul bones remain in Kailon.”

  Kaul sneered. At Sonnen’s request, the vines unwound themselves from Kaul’s mouth but remained snug against his throat.

  “I will not be contained for long, dragon,” the dread lord snarled contemptuously, his eyes scheming.

  Shouts drew their attention east, where the few surviving magi scattered up the ridge under the attack of Viren and his owls. They disappeared into the forest, where the magi’s hollering turned to ardent screams.

  Sonnen smiled thinly. “Your allies have already abandoned you, Kaul. I think you will find much has changed since you last walked in the world.”

  Kaul pushed against the entrapping vines but found no give. “I have lived beyond death. You would be wise to contemplate that before declaring your enmity, dragon.”

  Sonnen smiled again. “We will take our chances.” He rose, dusting his hands on his breeches. He nodded to Danil. “When you are ready, custodian.”

  Stepping forward, Danil raised his hand. The House glyph brightened as if charged by the sun.

  Kaul bared his teeth, thrashing. “There will be a reckoning, videre!”

  Closing his eyes, Danil let the kiandrite guide the shape of the glyph. His fingers danced as the enchantment came into being. Beside him, Sonnen repeated the glyph, the gold of Corros intertwining with iridescent white. Then Elania and Blutark joined in, and the grove brightened to blinding.

  The glyph wrapped around Kaul, weaving tighter and tighter until it was a blur. With a resounding crack, it hardened like stone.

  Opening his eyes, Danil found the dread lord encased within clear quartz. Only Kaul’s eyes moved within the chrysalis, promising death.

  The kiandrite murmured in satisfaction.

  “Stay with him until reinforcements arrive,” Sonnen commanded Elania and Blutark. He smiled humorlessly. “Then I will help him discover a place so dark and deep that no magus may reach.”

  So long as it was far from Kailon, Danil was satisfied. His eyes tracked over the grove once more. A sapling as tall as his hip already sprouted beside the pool, its wide leaves extending toward the sun. More life stirred within the soil.

  Hafryn came up beside him and bumped his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

  Rain fell upon Kailon as Danil, Hafryn, and Sonnen returned to the camp. The magi had fired their way through here, also, and destroyed all but a few of the tents. But veins of kiandrite spidered across the wet rocks bordering the path and boardwalks, and vast troves of the gully remained lush and green. A handful of shifters were already at work putting things to rights, collecting what items could be salvaged from the ash about the camp. To Danil’s relief, many folk had managed to flee the camp unscathed, and as the day dragged on, they made their way back with stories of glittering kiandrite and a powerful glyph that had lit up the sky.

  Helping Sonnen set up makeshift awnings, Danil realized with slow wonder that so many Amasians had defied the High Council and chosen to remain in Kailon. He turned to Sonnen. “You knew, didn’t you? That the High Council was never going to give aid.”

  The dragon prince paused in his work to study him, golden eyes dimmed. “I had hoped to be wrong,” he admitted.

  “So why take me to Corros at all?” Danil pressed, frowning.

  Sonnen lowered the rope he used to secure the awning. “Our people needed to see what Kailon had become.” He smiled slightly. “And what you were capable of transforming it into. But it also gave Roldaer time to put their plan into motion, and for that I am sorry. Kaul’s return was very much unexpected.”

  Danil swallowed, gaze turning east where the dread lord lay entombed and under guard. “Kaul knew about the House glyph,” he murmured.

  Sonnen nodded. “I suspect now that it had come into being the moment he brought the stolen kiandrite into Kailon. Kaul however, in his rage and hate for Amas, broke the magic so that the balance between life and death present in all House glyphs was destroyed.”

  Danil thought of the venomous red glyph that had burned through both his flesh and dreams. It had been the House glyph, stripped of all good intent so that all that remained was foul and twisted.

  “It was never Kaul’s objective to be a custodian,” Sonnen said, his thoughts clearly on the same trail. “But to heal a broken glyph, it must first be fully awakened.”

  “Which is how Kaul was able to come through,” Danil surmised. He watched Hafryn work to clear the cooking area with a handful of other Amasians.

  “Aye, but it would not have been possible without that cursed crystal,” Sonnen rumbled, his expression troubled. “There are writings which speak of Kaul bearing a red first crystal.”

  Danil eyed the dragon prince’s brooding face. “His relics keep finding their way into magi hands.” He feared what may happen now that Kailon was luminous with kiandrite. The magi’s hunger would only cause them to take even darker paths.

  “That is something for me to rectify, custodian,” Sonnen promised, flames in his eyes.

  They returned to their task as light rain drizzled over the gully.

  Sodden and dripping, Elania and Blutark arrived soon after with news that the few surviving magi had fled to Farin.

  Hafryn trotted over, green eyes dark. “What of Arlyn
and Brianna?”

  Danil couldn’t recall seeing them after Kaul had attempted to poison the land.

  Elania hesitated. “There’s been no sign of the emissary, but Magus Brianna is in Farin. The Eyrie have her. Viren has sworn to, as he put it, ‘remedy things’.” She visibly swallowed.

  Eyes narrowing, Hafryn folded his arms. “While he’s always been meticulous, Viren’s not the type to overextend himself.”

  Danil wasn’t fooled either. Clearing Farin of its magi went beyond Viren’s oath to Hafryn’s safety. Still, Danil couldn’t ignore his relief that Brianna would haunt him no more.

  Blutark growled, “We can’t assume that Arlyn died with the other magi in the grove, either. I’ll organize a search party.”

  Sonnen nodded. “She saw Amas at its most fractured. We cannot let her use that against us.” His gaze settled on Danil. “Kailon trusted that you would find a way to make the glyph whole again. The birth of your House has always been your path ever since you first lowered your hand into the temple well. You are under my protection as you continue to learn your way—Kailon will never stand alone.”

  The leylines released a low, contented hum in acknowledgment of the dragon prince’s vow.

  Dazed, Danil said, “I’m honored, Sonnen, and so very grateful. But how long can you defy the High Council?”

  There had to be repercussions. While Kailon might stand outside of Amas, Corros certainly did not.

  Sonnen smiled, baring sharpened eyeteeth. “Leave the High Council to me. Word of what has happened will spread across Amas, and I know my people. You have achieved everything the leylines have asked of you and more, Danil of Kailon. You are custodian and videre. Creator of balance in a land once known only for death. Protector of Kailon and Amas.”

  Hafryn huffed a soft laugh. “Geez, fala. Let us bear some of the weight.”

  Sonnen’s smile widened. “And so we will,” he promised.

  32

  The Eyrie returned as evening darkened the campsite. Viren disappeared with Sonnen into a makeshift tent to speak briefly but emerged soon after. The councilor strode with a purpose to the edge of the camp where Merlias and the other owls waited.

  It took Danil a moment to realize Viren and the Eyrie were departing. He hurried after Viren and grabbed his arm. “You don’t get to leave without explaining yourself,” he hissed angrily.

  Viren appeared startled but quickly became amused. He stepped away from the owls. “Whatever do you mean, Custodian Danil?”

  Danil’s eyes narrowed. “You knew what I was even before Freyna did.” Even now, the councilor’s wolf watched him with piercing intensity, as if trying to discern his secrets.

  “Ah,” Viren smiled. “It’s true you’re not the first videre to walk in Eyrie.”

  Danil studied the man’s green eyes, so like Hafryn’s in color. “You’re referring to Kaul’s videre.”

  Viren’s smile widened in approval. “It was pure assumption, of course, that another of her kind could undo the entrapment she’d wrought upon our glyphs. You understand I had to test it for myself.”

  Danil set his jaw, unable to shake his dislike of the man no matter how Viren had helped during the battle. “Were you really going to do it—kill Hafryn if I couldn’t release your glyphs?”

  The councilor seemed delighted by the question. “What do you believe, custodian?”

  Danil glanced again at the massive wolf Trueform. It had stayed close to Hafryn in battle, fighting and protecting in turn. He gave Viren a narrow-eyed look. “I saw your wolf during the fight.”

  Viren’s expression cooled. “Did you really, custodian?” he asked, voice deceptively mild.

  Remembering the Eyrie’s almost murderous obsession with keeping their Trueforms hidden, Danil’s gaze slid past the councilor’s shoulder to the waiting owls. Merlias’ blue-tipped owl watched with steady intent. Noticing his stare, she clacked her beak in warning.

  “Not everything you see is as it seems, Danil of Kailon,” Viren said. “Every tide must turn.”

  A flash of irritation shot through Danil. “You’re hardly the kind to speak in riddles, Viren.”

  The councilor’s smile returned. “Then I shall speak plainly, custodian. The treaty is already broken, and when enchanters and other folk discover that the High Council put their own safety ahead of protecting our beloved kiandrite, there will be a reckoning.”

  Danil frowned. “And what—you’ll be there to see it come to pass?”

  His green eyes gleamed. “We are certainly not done with Roldaer. I know you see it, too.”

  Yes, Danil thought, knowing they were hardly ready. He glanced at his palm, where the new glyph shone bright and true. But we will be.

  “When all is done, I may send aid your way,” Viren said. “We share common interests, after all.”

  Viren surely meant Hafryn. In spite of all the man had done and the pain he’d inflicted, he still claimed a level of kinship with Hafryn that had seen him fight off a dread lord.

  Danil searched Viren’s face, wondering if he’d ever truly understand the depths of him.

  The councilor of Eyrie gave an enigmatic smile and walked away.

  Guided by a lit torch, Danil found Hafryn at the opposite end of the gully. He sat despondently upon a boulder overlooking the stream as it disappeared into the yawning dark of the mine shaft.

  “Your cousin’s gone,” Danil murmured, climbing up beside him. Seams of kiandrite in the boulder combined with the torchlight to cast long shadows on Hafryn’s face.

  “Fair news at last,” Hafryn muttered. He tossed a pebble into the stream.

  As the silence stretched, Danil tried another tack. “Elania’s sent word to Freyna. We should see more Amasians in Kailon in the next week or so—those who want to join the fight, that is.”

  In truth, he couldn’t blame anyone for hesitating. The return of Kaul showed there were no depths the magi wouldn’t sink to in their hunger for kiandrite.

  Hafryn’s gaze swept out over the stream but didn’t comment.

  “You have me worried,” Danil said after some time, watching him. “I understand if you want to return to Corros. There’s no safety or peace here. Not for long.”

  Hafryn finally turned to him gave him a wry smile. “After all we’ve been through, fala, a whole Roldaerian army isn’t going to sway me.”

  It eased the heaviness in Danil’s heart. “Then what’s wrong?” he pressed.

  Hafryn sighed and rolled up the loose sleeve of his tunic. The Eyrie House glyph on the inside of his elbow was faded to white, the magic within it spent.

  Danil stared. “But—”

  “I’m not Eyrie, fala. Haven’t been for a long time, I guess.” He smiled, bittersweet. “I suppose I didn’t want to accept it before now.” Sighing, he put his arm about Danil’s shoulders.

  Heart aching, Danil leaned in. “You’re leaving your House.”

  Hafryn’s mouth softened. “My path leads to another.”

  Another House, Hafryn meant. Danil knew because he bore its fledgling glyph on his skin. “Kailon might be the shortest-lived House in the history of Amas,” he warned.

  “Or the most glorious,” Hafryn countered. He gave a rakish smile and planted a warm kiss on Danil’s brow. “How can it not, with us at the helm?”

  Danil managed a smile. “I know which ending I’ll fight for.”

  Hafryn drew him close as Danil gazed out over the stream. An iridescent glow emanated from the pebbled bank, its changing whorls of color matched by the first crystal as it hummed contentedly in the back of his mind. A surge of responsibility gripped him. In this small pocket of Kailon was more kiandrite than he’d ever imagined possible when he was a deadland scavenger. And they’d come so close to losing it all.

  But he would fight to protect this place, and all of Kailon. Even if it meant facing down powerful magi and dread lords whose malevolence stretched through the ages. Danil swore Kailon would never be subjugated again.

&
nbsp; The glyph on his palm brightened with promise.

  About the Author

  K K NESS is the pen name of identical twins living in Australia. They both share a love of characters whose antics make them happy, and enjoy competing against each other to see how much mayhem can happen in a story. They currently reside in sunny Queensland with various family and animal friends.

  Visit their website for the latest releases and updates.

  www.kkness.com

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