Ilythra quickened her pace. “I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie. She was only a bit winded and her leg gave an unpleasant twinge with every step, but she’d been through worse. But from the speculative way the woman was looking at her, she needed to change the subject or she’d have Arien breathing down her neck too. “Please tell me about deeper in the mountain.”
“Near the mountain’s heart, there’s a cavern with a freshwater lake fed by a spring. It’s so large, even lit by a thousand torches, it’s impossible to see the ceiling. Another cave grows a moss which glows year-round. It’s beautiful. My brother and I visit from time to time. There are tunnels sparkling with gems, caverns where our craftsmen have sculpted the rock to resemble trees and bushes. If you like, I’ll take you.” Aimena paused before double wooden doors. “We’re here.”
The door opened, and Aimena stepped aside.
An expanse of wood met Ilythra’s eye. Floors, walls, even the ceiling were constructed of timber. It was warm and vital after the corridors of stone, and Ilythra felt her shoulders relax.
“Welcome.”
The tone of his voice was as soothing as the room itself. Ewen stood before a blazing fire that hissed and popped as it consumed the dry timber. The room smelled faintly of wax and a sweet-smelling herb. Ilythra soon identified it as bergamot by the hint of citrus. A mantel of rich dark wood held several rounded vases arranged in an asymmetrical pattern. Bookcases filled an adjoining wall ceiling to floor, the spines shades of garnet and green.
She’d grown used to the melody of Ealois, but in close proximity, the harmony of the stones sang in her blood. For a brief moment she felt as though she could fly. With the stones in accord, anything was possible. By his slight smile, she thought Ewen must feel it too.
The Siobani leader stepped forward. He wore an unpretentious brown tunic, and for the first time, she noticed a white feather also dangled from his dark hair.
“Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty.”
Green eyes sparkled. “Please, Ewen.” He swept his hand toward a chair.
Ilythra moved to speak to Aimena, surprised to find the Siobani woman gone; the heavy door closed.
“I chose something simple for our midday meal. I hope you’re hungry.”
Her stomach rumbled. “Yes, thank you. I am always hungry.” She was suddenly nervous.
“Arien tells me you heal quickly for a human. I am glad of this. Again, I apologize for not finding you before the Rugians.”
“It’s done.” Ilythra swallowed a little irritation. She was never good at pleasantries, especially when there was something more important to say. “As you said, I’m healing. There’s no further need to apologize.”
“I see. A pragmatist. I like that. Do you have everything you require?” Ewen’s graceful hands moved over a teapot, pouring steaming liquid into delicate cups. The scent of orange bloomed in the air.
Ilythra bit back her impatience. What if the Siobani ruler decided to do nothing? What would she do then? “Yes, thank you. You’ve been most generous.”
“Generous with all but information?” He raised a single eyebrow.
Ilythra gave into the smile tugging at her lips. “Am I so transparent?”
“No. I am merely putting myself in your place. And the truth of the matter is, I’ve quite a few unanswered questions as well.” Ewen rose. “Let’s satisfy our appetites before our curiosity, shall we?”
Ilythra followed him to a table opposite the fire. A light fare of breads, meat, cheeses and several fruits graced delicate plates matching the teacups. She settled opposite the Riege.
Ewen set down his cup and took a bite of bread. “It has been so long since I heard the song of Ilydearta. You wear it well.”
“Thank you. The stone seems different with Ealois close by.”
A shadow crossed over his features. “Yes, Ealois too is reacting to its sister stone. It has always been that way.”
“I...I don’t quite know how to use it.” She struggled to quell the blush she knew bloomed on her face.
“Yet you used it to find your way across the chasm and to us. That is commendable.”
“Zeynel taught me a little. The rest I’ve kind of worked out on my own.”
“Zeynel?”
“My mentor. He died.” She was surprised by the catch in her voice.
Ewen’s eyes softened. “Yes, you wear his ring. I assumed. A Shamyrddin-enki would not give such a thing away lightly.”
Memories clouded her mind. Hot desert sands, blood spreading across Zeynel’s tunic. Her chest burned. The ache of loss had never disappeared. She’d only gotten used to it. “No, he didn’t. You knew him?”
Ewen shook his head. “I knew of him. Although we do not walk the human lands, we are not entirely uniformed.” He sipped his tea. “You spoke of Bredych. You say he holds Crioch. You spent time with this man?”
“Yes.” A shudder rippled down her spine. More than she liked to remember. “Crioch suffers under his keeping. He hungers for power.”
Ewen stared into the distance. When he brought his focus back to her, his gaze held remembered pain. “If he is who I think he is, he always has.” The fire popped. “How well did you know him?”
“Too well.” She stared down at her plate. Her appetite fled.
“Ilythra, you have traveled far and I would love to hear your tale, but you are not at peace. What would you have the Siobani do?”
“Go get the stone. Stop Bredych.”
Ewen’s smile was sad. “If it were that easy, I would have done so long ago. With notable exceptions, he often stays just close enough that I can hear the tortured sounds of Crioch.”
“Why don’t you go get it?”
He stared at the flames. “It is not that simple.”
You are a child playing a game you don’t understand. Do not assume that the Siobani will jump and do tricks like that mongrel dog you mention because you’ve told them to. Arien’s words repeated in her mind. Maybe she did seem like a child to these people. She was starting to feel like one. “Why not?” She took a deep breath. “My task is to reunite the stones. I will do so.”
Ewen stared into her eyes. “I know. You are the Wanderer. It is not often one gets to sit with a legend.”
She examined him to see if he was taunting her. He wasn’t. “I could say the same.”
“We are not spoken of in human lands?”
“No.”
“Good.” He smiled. “It is the way we wanted it. The Siobani will not go into human lands lightly. We would prefer not to remind them of our existence.”
“I do not ask you lightly. He will kill a lot of people to get what he wants. Those he doesn’t kill will live in fear. It is not the way it should be.”
Ewen blinked. “You are correct. It is not. But perhaps it’s the lesser evil.” The Riege stared off into the distance. The silence lengthened. “My people are few. We are long-lived but not eternal. The old die and few young are born. To go to war is to risk the future of my entire race.” He cleared his throat and his gaze returned to her. “But I remember a time when things weren’t as they are now. Once, Siobani and humankind lived together in peace. I do not wish the humans harm. We’ve not forgotten our brethren, though we’ve hoped they forgot us.”
“Why?”
“That’s a tale for another day.” Pain shadowed the Riege’s face.
She wanted to press the issue but decided perhaps a different angle would be better. “You would be defending the humans. Isn’t that your task? You are the Elder Born.”
“Yes. Zeynel told you the old tales. It is true. But they do not wish it.”
“How do you know?” She blew out a breath of pure frustration.
“Because...” He shook his head and sighed. “Experience. I have called a council. I
am waiting for our elders to gather. They would meet you, stone keeper, and hear your tale. Then we will decide if there is anything to do.”
She leaned forward. “You hold Ealois, the stone of wisdom. Is this wisdom speaking?”
Ewen pulled a pendant out of his tunic. A deep green jewel caught light from the fire and held it. “Wisdom does not mean I am all-knowing.” Weariness lined the Riege’s face.
“I dreamed of you,” she said. “When I was in the chasm, you came to me.”
“Yes, and I of you. It is how I knew you were coming.” He hesitated. “May I?”
Ilythra pulled Ilydearta out and let it rest against her chest.
Ewen’s eyes closed. “It has been so long,” he whispered. He opened his eyes. “Thank you. May I ask how she came into your possession?”
Ilythra cleared her throat. It was the first tale she remembered hearing, repeated every birthday and often on demand. Even now, as she told it, she heard her grandfather’s voice.
“My father, Arles, was a peddler. My grandfather lived up north. He was a warrior who had hung up his sword in favor of a plow. One day, my father came home with a tale almost too strange to be believed.
“He had been traveling through an empty land of rolling hills. The sun had begun to set when he came upon two men digging in a field. It didn’t take him long to guess they were grave robbers. He ran them off, but they had already broken into a barrow. He placed everything back in the dark hole on top of the skeleton until he came to a box.”
She paused. She’d often attempted to picture the scene. Imagined what her father had looked like. How he had felt. If he’d known the box and what he found inside would dictate the course of his daughter’s life, would he still have taken it? “He told my grandfather the box was covered with strange markings he didn’t understand, yet he recognized the quality of the workmanship. But that’s not what caught his attention. Although everything else in the grave had suffered the ravages of time, the box looked new.
“My father thought it might have belonged to one of the robbers but knew he’d never see them again, and if it was theirs, it was probably stolen. He took the box back to his cart and placed it on the seat next to him.” Ilythra paused, almost hearing her grandfather’s rich timbre as he had related the story.
“That night, when my father made camp, he opened the box. Inside he found a pendant on a long silver chain. When he took it out, the box crumbled into dust. There wasn’t any sign of aging on the necklace. For reasons even my father didn’t understand, he placed it around his neck, hiding it under his tunic. He said he felt odd but went on his way and shortly after, met my mother. She had been traveling with her family.”
Ilythra stared into the flames. It had been a long time since she’d told the story to anyone. A long time since anyone had cared. Bredych had never asked her how she came by Ilydearta. But then, he wouldn’t. He only wanted what he could get from it. A fresh surge of anger warmed her face. She took a deep breath.
“My father was divided. He still wanted to be a peddler but didn’t want to expose my mother to that lifestyle. She wouldn’t be swayed. When they left, she was pregnant with me. She died in childbirth.”
Even now her throat grew rough at the thought of her mother. Her grandfather had said Ilythra looked like her and sometimes, when she saw her reflection in a pool or piece of glass, she wondered what it would be like to talk to her mother, to see her walking, cooking, doing the daily things women did. How would that have changed her?
Ewen waited quietly.
“The next time my grandfather saw him, I was a baby and my father had been wounded by bandits. Grandfather treated the injury the best he could but it was too late, and my father died.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Everyone she had ever loved had disappeared. For a moment loneliness stole her breath. She glanced at Ewen’s soothing eyes and continued.
“He told my grandfather to keep me and the stone safe. Grandfather took me to a small island off the west coast of Anatar to prepare me to carry the stone.” She met Ewen’s gaze. “He taught me Shi’ia and herb craft. He died on the way to the mainland.”
“And then you were alone?”
“Yes.”
“There’s much you don’t say in that. Thank you for your story. You are alone no more. You are gwagier gan char mehn, wearer of a stone of power, and welcome here.”
Ilythra swallowed, surprised by the tears that burned her eyes. Had he seen her pain?
“Now, as it is only fair, ask your questions of me.”
She slowly shook her head. Questions? Her life was one question after another and the search for answers. “Every answer I have discovered since receiving Ilydearta has opened the door to a dozen questions. I don’t know where to begin.”
“As always, at the beginning.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I want to know how to use Ilydearta. I want to know how the stones were separated.”
The fire sizzled as Ewen watched it. The silence continued for so long, his voice surprised her. “The three pendants were created long ago to move in harmony with Teann. Their history is not entirely pleasant and you will see that not all Siobani hold honor in high esteem. But I will tell you their histories. Perhaps that will answer some of your many questions. Be assured, I’ll teach you what your grandfather couldn’t. Finish what Zeynel began.”
He took a deep breath. “A man named Malchor was the last known bearer of Crioch. The stone’s harmonies have not changed. I believe this Bredych and Malchor are one and the same. Malchor was defeated in battle but disappeared. He sought to control all three pendants and hold sway over this world. He had quite a following. For a time, he was almost worshipped like a god.”
“But you can’t possess more than one pendant.” She brought her eyebrows together in confusion.
“No, you can’t. But Malchor turned his notable intelligence toward determining a way to circumvent that rule. You see, if you control the keepers, then you do not need to possess the other pendants.”
Ilythra nodded. He’d been close to controlling her. How much longer, had Mohan not intervened, would she have had any will at all? She shuddered. What if he still had power over her? The fear edged at her consciousness and she couldn’t quite push it away as she had in the past. The image of Tarak, Mohan’s brother, slumped against a fence post, dead by his own hand, was burned into her memory. “He tried to control me. He drugged me. I was...not in my right mind.”
“How did you escape?”
“A friend of mine, a Benai, rescued me.”
Ewen smiled. “Where is the Benai now?”
“Hopefully protecting his troupe.” A wistfulness blanketed her emotions. She missed the Benai, but he was where he needed to be.
“The Benai are an ancient and honorable people.”
Ilythra surprised herself by laughing.
“What is amusing?” Ewen’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Forgive me. They are known as thieves and vagabonds.”
Ewen stared into the fire, his expression tense. “Humans change quickly but I think the soul of a people does not.”
“I’d concur. They are an ancient and, in their own way, honorable people.” She leaned forward. “Why didn’t Bredych just take my pendant?”
“Because he knows to take a stone by force would be to destroy it. They can’t be obtained by murder or thievery. They must be freely given or won in fair battle. He would’ve tried to persuade you to give it to someone under his sway. With Crioch, his powers of persuasion are strong and he can easily bend others to his will.
“You saw how you gained access into my lands, not a simple thing to accomplish. In times past, many sought a way and couldn’t find it. Indeed, it is nearly impossible without Ilydearta. With Ilydearta and Crioch in Malchor’s control, he would seek Eal
ois. There would be none to stop him.”
Ilythra gazed at Ewen’s deep green eyes. Many things made sense that had confused her. Cassia. A vague memory surfaced. Cassia had tried to convince her to take off the pendant. He must have planned for the servant to keep the stone for him. She knew now Cassia was under Bredych’s sway but she wasn’t sure why. Would ambition be enough to assure complete loyalty? “But my father found Ilydearta. It wasn’t given to him.”
“Yes. An occurrence I hadn’t foreseen, but perhaps the makers had.” Ewen took a deep breath. “The pendants are governed by Teann. I don’t have an explanation for you. Perhaps it found your father a worthy vessel. Perhaps it was waiting for you. The chances of finding one of the three are very small.”
“Mohan, my Benai friend, took the pendant when I was unconscious and put it in Melior’s saddlebag to throw Bredych off the track. When I came to myself, I thought I lost it. Is that what happened to Ilydearta before it came to me? Did someone lose it?”
“He put it in a horse’s saddlebag?” Ewen at first looked horrified then laughed. “Oh, my. I can’t image such a thing. Do me a favor and withhold that bit of information from the council.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It has been a long time since we dealt with human behavior. I can think of only one other who might find the humor in that.” He sobered. “We do not know the story of what happened to Ilydearta once it left the Siobani strongholds. But I am glad an honorable man such as your father found it.”
Ilythra nodded. “When will the council be here?”
“As soon as they can.” He placed his cup down. “What are you afraid of, Ilythra?”
She swallowed. How had he known? She gazed at the pendant lying against his tunic.
“Forgive me if I’ve overstepped,” Ewen said. “It is like that with stone keepers. You feel like you’ve known each other quite some time when that isn’t always the case. There is a connection. An attraction of a type. The stones harmonize and bind the keepers to one another.”
Journey of Wisdom Page 20