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Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels

Page 12

by Tara Maya, Elle Casey, J L Bryan, Anthea Sharp, Jenna Elizabeth Johnson, Alexia Purdy (epub)


  “I won’t be in your debt for long.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The prisoner smiled cockily. “Even as we speak, the War Group of Vio the Skull Stomper, foremost Zavaedi of the Bone Whistler, is encircling your position. You’re trapped. When they close the circle, they will slaughter you like pigs on feast day.”

  Danumoro paled. He ran to warn the others.

  The prisoner had not issued an idle bluff. Not long after that, they all heard the enemy beat their war drums. The trap had closed. The Yellow Bear Tavaedies accompanied Danumoro back to the prisoner.

  “You owe me a lifedebt,” Danumoro said. “You must allow us to leave.”

  “I owe only you,” said the prisoner. “Your friends would have slit all our throats.” Before Danumoro could object, he held up a hand. “But since you showed uncommon compassion, and since--” the handsome prisoner glanced at Vessia, “I am feeling generous, I will allow your whole party to leave unmolested in trade for myself and my men.”

  “Agreed.”

  A short while later, the Yellow Bear war party walked silently through rows of Rainbow Labyrinth warriors, while the prisoners walked in the other direction. The last Vessia saw of the handsome warrior, he paused to call back to Danumoro.

  “We are even now, Healer. Be wary. Next time we meet, the balance will be fresh, and I’ll owe you nothing. Don’t expect unearned mercy from me. I am Vio the Skull Stomper.”

  An angry murmur rose among the Yellow Bear tribesfolk at that name. Danumoro clenched his fists.

  “I wouldn’t expect unearned mercy from any of you scum!” he shouted back.

  “And yet,” said Vessia, just to him. “You showed mercy to them.”

  “I wish I hadn’t,” said Danumoro. “If I had known who he was, I would have rather died at the hands of his warriors afterward, if it meant I could have slit his throat first. The other Tavaedies were right. I was a fool to spare those prisoners!”

  So many contradictions. She didn’t think she would ever fathom it.

  Dindi

  Dindi awakened from the Vision, drowning.

  Blue-skinned rusalki grappled Dindi under the churning surface of the river. She could feel their claws dig into her arms. Their riverweed-like hair entangled her legs when she tried to kick back to the surface. She only managed to gulp a few breaths of air before they pulled her under again.

  She hadn’t appreciated how fast and deep the river was. On her second gasp for air, she saw that the current was already dragging her out of sight of the screaming girls on the bank. Some of them, including Jensi and Gwenika, were running along the edge of the river, trying to keep up with her, but trees and rocks slowed them down, while the fae propelled Dindi forward even faster. Now she could see where they wanted her to go. A whirlpool of froth and fae roiled between two large rocks in the middle of the river. The rusalka and her sisters tugged Dindi toward it. Other water fae joined the rusalki. Long snouted pookas, turtle-like kappas and hairy-armed gwyllions all swam around her, leading her to the whirlpool, where even more fae swirled in the whitewater.

  “Join our circle, Dindi!” the fae voices gurgled under the water. “Dance with us forever!”

  “No!” She kicked and swam and stole another gasp for air before they snagged her again. There were so many of them now, all pulling her down, all singing to the tune of the rushing river. She tried to shout, “Dispel!” but swallowed water instead. Her head hit a rock, disorienting her. She sank, this time sure she wouldn’t be coming up again.

  “Dispel!” It was a man’s voice.

  Strong arms encircled her and lifted her until her arms and head broke the surface. Her rescuer swam with her toward the shore. He overpowered the current, he shrugged aside the hands of the water faeries stroking his hair and arms. When he reached the shallows, he scooped Dindi into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the grassy bank. He set her down gently.

  She coughed out some water while he supported her back.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded. He was young—only a few years older than she. The aura of confidence and competence he radiated made him seem older. Without knowing quite why, she was certain he was a Tavaedi.

  “Good.” He had a gorgeous smile. A wisp of his dark bangs dangled over one eye. He brushed his dripping hair back over his head.

  Dindi’s hand touched skin—he was not wearing any shirt. Both of them were sopping wet. On him, that meant trickles of water coursed over a bedrock of muscle. As for her, the thin white wrap clung transparently to her body like a wet leaf. She blushed.

  “It might have been easier to swim if you had let go of that,” he teased. He touched her hand, which was closed around something. “What were you holding onto so tightly that it mattered more than drowning?”

  Dindi realized she still clutched the corncob doll in one hand. She stared at her hand as if it were someone else’s.

  “You must think I’m a fool.”

  “Not at all,” he said. “You must be a strong swimmer to have survived in the water that long. I couldn’t tell if the fae were trying to hold you up or pull you down.”

  Both, she thought.

  “Let’s get you dried off,” he said, with another dazzling smile. “My pack is back there.”

  Great Aunt Sullana would have had quite a few words on the topic of accompanying a strange male through the woods, but Dindi followed the young man without question. His travel basket was not far. It sat on a large rock beside the river, next to a beached kayak. He must have taken it off right before he jumped into the river to rescue her.

  “And I thought my rucksack was too big,” Dindi said. His was as tall as Dindi and must have weighed twice as much. “Can you really lift that monster?”

  He grinned. “My friends were a little overenthusiastic when they gave their journey gifts.” He opened the basket flap and began to rummage through the vast piles of neatly folded blankets and wrapped objects. “You’re an Initiate, aren’t you?”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Yes.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t really have any girls’ clothing with me.” Without looking at her, he held out some folded fabric. “Here, try this, at least until we can get you back to your camp. The Tavaedies responsible for you will be worried, I imagine.”

  Dindi scampered behind some bushes. As quickly as she could, she dropped the wet wrap in a heap and rolled the new material around her torso.

  The material felt like swan down against her chilled skin. She had never seen cloth so smoothly woven before, with such tiny, even threads. And the colors! Though they were the same six colors of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe in her old wrap, the dyes in this textile were much more vivid. Nor had she ever seen the maze pattern of her tribe detailed with such intricacy.

  “You’re from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribe too!” she exclaimed, emerging from behind the bushes.

  He was facing away from her. In her excitement at the discovery that he was a fellow tribesman, she hadn’t bothered to check if he’d finished dressing. He had removed his wet legwals, and she had a fine view of his bare backside: powerful thighs, broad back with shoulders so defined they resembled wings, and everything in between.

  “Oh, mercy!” She turned red. “I’m so sorry.” She backed up, tripped over a root, and bumped into a tree. “I’ll, um, go…”

  “It’s all right,” he said easily. Her blunder did not appear to have offended him to the degree it had mortified her. “I’m almost ready.”

  She ran to hide behind the bush. She only returned once he was lacing up his legwals. They were not leather, she noticed, but of the same richly woven fabric that he had given her. He shouldered his huge pack without a sign of strain, including the kayak, which cupped the rucksack like a turtle’s shell. He might as well have been carrying a kitten.

  “Your people are back that way,” he said, pointing upstream.

  Where were her manners?


  “My name is Dindi,” she said. “Of Lost Swan clan of Rainbow Labyrinth tribe.”

  He hesitated before he returned his name. “Kavio.”

  How odd. Why did he not mention his clan and tribe?

  “From the weave you lent me, I thought you were from Rainbow Labyrinth tribe—”

  “I was. Once.”

  “Oh.” Her heart sank. “You’re married, then?”

  “No.”

  It was obvious he didn’t really want to talk about why he had no clan to his name any more than she wanted to talk about the corncob doll, so Dindi fell silent, still confused. A new topic seemed best.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said. “I owe you a lifedebt.”

  “I believe the traditional reward would be a kiss.”

  The idea both terrified and thrilled her.

  Sparks danced in his eyes, like mischief, but more intense, as lightening was more intense than burning oil. “But, I confess, there’s something I want from you even more.” He leaned forward. His voice dropped to a conspiracy, husky against her ear. “Tell me your Chromas.”

  “Wh—what?”

  “There’s no one who can hide from me. I mean no one—it’s been tried by the best. Except you. I honestly can’t tell.”

  “You’re talking about Tavaedi colors? I thought you understood. I’m still an Initiate. I haven’t been tested yet.”

  His bewilderment, almost anger, befit a man expecting water but given sand.

  “Have I forfeited my lifedebt?” she asked, suddenly queasy.

  “No.” He shook himself from his daze. “Of course not, I’ll accept something else, whatever you wish. I just thought…I’m not often mistaken.”

  People rushed toward them along the river’s edge. Jensi was one, Gwenika another, the other girls were right behind—including Kemla, who was crying—and the Tavaedies from both tribes, led by Abiono.

  “Dindi! Thank the Six Faeries, you’re still alive!” he exclaimed. “Kemla said you were fooling around on the log and fell in the river, and she was so upset…”

  Kemla was upset? But, yes, there was Kemla, wailing like a baby.

  “It was all my fault!” she screeched. “I was demonstrating a few flips—not dancing, mind you, just demonstrating—and Dindi insisted on copying me, even though she hadn’t the skill, and she just…” She trailed away into loud blubbering.

  “That’s not quite what happened,” said Gwena. At least she looked guilty. “We were—“

  “I dropped my doll from the log and fell in when I tried to catch it,” Dindi said. Gwena looked at her gratefully. Hurrying on, she gestured to Kavio. “This man saved me.”

  “Er, I see.” Abiono looked flustered at the presence of the stranger. “Is this true?”

  Kavio inclined his head.

  “Then we are most grateful,” Abiono said. “As you can see, we are on our way to the Yellow Bear tribehold for the Initiation. Are you by any chance headed in that direction?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” said Kavio.

  Abiono beamed. “Marvelous. If you wish to travel with us, we would be happy of your company. You have saved one of our clan daughters and we cannot thank you enough. In the absence of Dindi’s parents, I am her guardian, and will pay you the lifedebt.” He added, under his breath, “You cannot imagine what her great aunt would have done to me if the girl had drowned.”

  That set Kemla into another fit of weeping.

  “It was horrible, horrible to watch,” Kemla cried. “I still don’t think I’ve recovered.”

  Several of the other girls comforted her all the way back to camp.

  Dindi

  The next morning, Dindi kept glancing sidelong to try to catch a peek at Kavio as everyone washed and prepared to travel. He was on the boys’ side of the river, of course, around the bend and out of sight as the girls bathed and painted on the kohl blindfolds of Initiates. Sadly, Dindi had to wear her old wrap again—she would have much preferred to wear the wonderful weave that Kavio had lent her. She still hadn’t had a chance to return it to him.

  Instead of Kavio, however, Zavaedi Brena called her aside to speak with her.

  “Dindi,” the older woman said. “I’m sorry. Your friend has just told us he has no name.”

  “He has a name, it’s—”

  “He has no clan and no tribe. Dindi, child—he’s an exile.”

  She felt cold. “So?”

  “So we cannot permit an exile to travel with us.”

  “But he saved me…”

  “Which is why you must be there when I tell him that he may not travel with us.”

  Her stomach turned. “Must we do this?”

  “He’s a criminal, an outcaste. He has no place with us. He must agree that the lifedebt is settled, he must agree to demand nothing else from you, or from us. He helped you, we repay him, and that’s all he can expect from us. Come with me, and bring one of the guest gifts your family gave you for barter.”

  Having seen the quality of the textiles that Kavio possessed, Dindi wondered what she could possibly give him that he would consider worthy. A chert scrapper? No. A flint arrowhead? No, he probably had arrowheads made from obsidian. A set of tear-shaped stone loom weights? Fa, he didn’t build those muscles sitting on a balcony weaving.

  “I have no worthy gifts,” she said.

  Zavaedi Brena clucked her tongue. “He’s just a clanless beggar, child, I’m sure a simple thing will suffice. Here.” She pulled out a small pottery bowl embossed with the swan design of Dindi’s clan. “This will do. Now, come.”

  Dindi took the bowl and also the cloth he had lent her. Miserably, she followed Zavaedi Brena. They crossed the log to the boys’ side of the river to find Kavio.

  “Careful, Dindi!” cried out the first boy to see her, Tamio. “Don’t fall in again!”

  Tamio and the other boys laughed. Another ‘stupid Dindi trick’ I’ll never live down. She did her best to ignore the jibe.

  “Where is Kavio?” Zavaedi Brena asked severely. Tamio sobered at once.

  “You mean the stranger?” Tamio jerked a thumb. “Further down the river.”

  They followed the river. In the dawn light, the fae gamboling in the water were completely different in nature than those who had been churning the water the evening before. Now smiling Blue naiads and undines splashed there. They waved innocently at Dindi.

  Kavio knelt over a still pool at the river’s edge, carefully applying a thick paste of ash and mud to his face and upper body. When he stood up, he no longer looked like the same warrior who had rescued her. His face looked lumpen and strange. His bright eyes sparkled eerily from the mask of mud. They seemed to pierce right through her. Then he inclined his head to acknowledge Zavaedi Brena.

  He knew why they’d come.

  Zavaedi Brena paused, tense and worried. In a low voice, she said to Dindi, “There is a chance he might not accept the gift. By tradition, he is entitled to demand whatever he wishes. If he demands anything…inappropriate…let me deal with it.”

  Dindi nodded. She wondered what the older woman meant by “inappropriate”.

  “Stranger,” Zavaedi Brena called out. “This child brings you payment for the life you saved. Will you agree that the debt is settled and move on?”

  Zavaedi Brena waited tensely.

  “Yes,” Kavio said, without any inflection. “I understand. I’ll move on alone.”

  “Go ahead, give it to him,” Zavaedi Brena nudged Dindi. “I’ll be right here.”

  Dindi walked forward. How she hated this.

  “Kavio,” she said. She bit her lip. He had saved her life. How could she tell him he wasn’t worthy of accompanying their party? To buy time, she held out the fabric he’d given her, neatly folded again. “Um, here’s your cloth. Thank you for lending it to me.”

  He took it silently.

  “You’re an exile.” Stupid. He knows that.

  “Yes,” he said. Just one word. He waited for her to go on.r />
  “Here…this is all I have to give you,” she said, lowering her lashes because she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes when she handed him the bowl. She added in a whisper, “I’m sorry. I guess my life isn’t worth much.”

  Her whole body trembled.

  “I accept it,” he said. “Don’t worry. I won’t be bothering you again.”

  He shouldered his traveling basket without further discussion. But the look he gave her before he walked away wounded her like a spear.

  Chapter Six

  Stone Hedge

  Dindi

  Another week’s travel brought them at last to Yellow Bear tribehold. Looking out over the valley, Dindi rocked back on her heels. She had seen this place before, through Vessia’s eyes. Perhaps the leaves crinkling beneath her feet hid the skulls stomped upon by the army of the Bone Whistler.

  Abiono pointed to five tall hills that dotted a river valley.

  “The Tors of Yellow Bear. Hertio the Mound Builder, War Chief of Yellow Bear tribe, has promised the matriarchs and patriarchs of the tribe he will build seven Tors in all. He’s been building up the tribehold for many years now. His ambition is make Yellow Bear tribehold rival the Rainbow Labyrinth.”

  “Is that possible?” asked Tamio, his pride prickled.

  Abiono shrugged. “He has added two Tors in twenty-two years, but he is old now, and was supposed to step down as War Chief already a year past. It depends if the War Chief after him wishes to complete his project.”

  Dindi shivered. Hertio the Mound Builder. She recognized the name. In Vessia’s time, there had only been three Tors: the Tor of the Sun, the Tor of the Moon, and the Tor of the Stone Hedge. The fourth and fifth hills were barely older than the Initiates.

  Atop the Tor of the Stone Hedge, there were no houses, only three circles of giant megaliths, one inside the other. At this distance it looked foreboding. And old. Even in the Vision, the Tor of the Stone Hedge had already looked dark and ancient.

  Until now, Dindi had imagined Vessia had lived long ago and far away, in the time of legends before humans and Aelfae had fought. To find herself following just twenty years behind the footsteps of the Corn Maiden unnerved Dindi.

 

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