by Renee Wildes
Loren’s arm tightened around her. “And you know what she has at stake,” he reminded Trystan.
Niadh’s teeth closed around Trystan’s hand. Moira’s brother stared at his furred companion for a moment. His shoulders slumped. “We wait. For now.”
“Rest. Morning comes soon enough,” Roisin decreed.
“Niadh an’ me’ll set up a camp by th’ entrance,” Trystan said. “If’n we can have some wood fer our fire?”
“Certain,” the headwoman replied. “But rest, no’ guard.”
Trystan did not answer, but collected some wood for a small fire at the edge of the tunnel, at which he and Niadh settled.
Loren soon dozed off on his side of the fire, but Dara tossed and turned. Odd how the night was anything but quiet, even in a dark cave. She heard every little sound. She gave up and rose to her feet. She wrapped herself in Loren’s cloak and padded to the cave entrance. Niadh watched her, but Trystan’s back was to her.
Hani`ena stood outside in the dappled moonlight. Frosty air streamed from her nostrils with every breath, but the clan boy had covered her with a woolen blanket and she seemed comfortable. The mare nuzzled her when she approached.
“Are you all right?” Dara asked.
Hani`ena tossed her head and whickered.
Dara spied a couple of shadowy forms farther down the trail. Sentries, she guessed.
“Could ye no’ sleep, either?” Trystan’s rough voice asked behind her.
She turned. “Nay. Mayhaps it’s just an overflow of healing energy, but I’m twitchy.”
He nodded and dropped to the ground. “Th’ forest spirits are out on th’ wind tonight. Mayhaps ’tis them ye sense.”
“Mayhaps.” She stared down into his eyes. In the moonlight they glowed feral green, though she knew they were blue. Must be a trick of the light.
Trystan nodded to Hani`ena, who dropped her head and snorted back. He smiled. “No’ much scares ye, warlady, does it?” he asked the horse, as if half expecting an answer. He turned to Dara. “Nor ye, I ’spect.”
“You’d be wrong.” Dara rubbed her hands up and down her arms, stared up at the moon. “Jalad scares me. Wearing this brand for the rest of my life scares me. Demons subverting children scare me. Never getting my powers back scares me. Being alone in this world scares me.” She turned to Moira’s brother. “See? Everything scares me.”
He shook his head and rose to his feet, but did not approach. “Yer no’ alone, lady. The one ye travel with shall ne’er leave ye. As fer th’ rest, ’twould scare anyone. Most ne’er see such times, but those who do live fore’er in th’ future stories.”
“I don’t want to be a campfire story. Most of those heroes are dead, and I still live.”
“Ye’ve fire in yer belly ’twould hold off th’ dark. Why’d ye fight Jalad? Is it just personal?”
She shook her head. “Nay. He slaughtered my people. My kin. He must answer for that. If not me, then whom?”
“Long ago, guardian spirits walked among folk, wrapped in th’ guise o’ men—an’ women.” There was a faraway look in his eyes as he, too, stared at the moon. “Teachers an’ counselors mostly, but there were true-warrior spirits, as well.”
Hani`ena snorted.
“Where’d they go?” Dara asked. “We need them.”
“I’m no’ so sure they be all that far away. Some nights they be close indeed, lady.”
“I hope so, Trystan, for all our sakes.” She shivered in the cold mountain air. “I’d better go back in. I imagine your sister will be here bright and early.”
He nodded, seemingly impervious to the cold. He looked like he belonged here, in the moonlight, in the night. “I’m goin’ scoutin’, see how close they got t’night. Rybyk makes good time when he has a reason fer movin’.” He slipped off into the shadows and was gone.
Dara went back into the cave. Niadh watched her pass as she returned to the guest fire. Loren’s eyes opened as she settled back down. He held up an arm, raising the blanket in invitation. “You are freezing. Come here. I shall warm you.”
She hesitated, then found herself burrowing under the covers, into blissful, Loren-scented heat.
“Did you go outside?”
She quivered as his breath tickled her ear. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to check on Hani`ena.”
“She is fine. You should try to rest.” He drew her more firmly against him, but made no further move. “It is a long ride tomorrow.”
Knowing she could trust him, Dara closed her eyes. Warmth and peace seeped from his body into hers. His arms held safety, an anchor against the dark. But moments later someone shook her. She opened her eyes and focused on Moira’s pale face. “Your Majesty.” Loren was gone. Dara struggled out of the mound of covers.
Moira smiled. “Dinna fash yerself now. We jus’ got here. I brought ye sommat t’ wear. Me cousin’ll show ye where ye can bathe an’ dress.”
The same woman who’d offered water yesterday showed Dara a fountain and pool fed by a hot mineral spring. The bath made her feel more alert and she dressed in the Wolf Clan plaids Moira had brought.
At the central fire, Moira sat with her mother, her aunt and old Agata. They all ate hot oat gruel with berries. Trystan brought her over a steaming bowl and spoon. “Thank you.” She smiled.
He nodded, not looking at all like he’d been up all night prowling the mountain forest. “They’re waitin’ fer ye. Loren’s jus’ checkin’ his warlady an’ he’ll be joinin’ ye.” He retreated to the warriors’ fire for his own breakfast.
Dara approached the clan women’s meeting.
Moira smiled at her and slid over. “Have a seat.”
“How’re ye feelin’ this morn?” Roisin asked.
“Better, thank you.”
Agata eyed her. “Rough night?”
“Aye.” Dara nodded. “Couldn’t sleep. Trystan told me forest spirits walked last night and mayhaps ’twas them I sensed.”
“Indeed.” Agata went silent.
“Well.” Fenia broke the silence. “Wolf an’ Badger Clans can be ready t’ march wi’in th’ week, but Trystan’ll have t’ get a message t’ th’ others. I ’spect ye can count on Bear, but th’ others—”
“This affects e’ery last one o’ them too,” Moira spat. “Where d’they think we’ll go, shoulda we fail?”
“Easy, lass,” Roisin soothed. “Th’ white warlady an’ Her champion shall bring back aid. We needs wait ’til then. All o’ us wi’ all o’ them…”
“Riverhead’s seer Xavier rode south fer Hengist,” Moira said. “What I wouldna give t’ know if he made it or no’.”
“Farseein’ be a talent in tales, no’ in life-true,” Agata said. “We live or die by our own hands.”
“True ’nough.” Fenia nodded. “Ye go wi’ him?” she asked Dara.
“Aye.” Dara polished off the last of her breakfast. “I’m stronger than I’ve been in days. I see no reason to wait.”
“Good,” Loren said behind her. “Hani`ena is ready to go. Ladies, I thank you for your hospitality.”
“Let’s ride,” Dara agreed.
Chapter Eight
Energy tingled over Dara’s skin, waking her from a half-doze. “We’re here?”
Loren’s arms tightened around her. “We just passed through the last barrier.” His body was tense.
“You shouldn’t have brought me. You told me people weren’t welcome here.”
“I did not. Stop crediting your thoughts as my words. We are expected.”
“Expected?” She leaned back against him, puzzled. Hani`ena’s head bobbed in front of them as the mare picked her way among the rocks. “How can we be expected?”
Hani`ena snorted, ears cocked backward. He grimaced.
Dara got an apprehensive lump in her throat, and she stiffened. “What’d she say?”
Hani`ena snapped her tail.
He squirmed. “You needs know the truth afore you meet them. I have been in direct contact with my fath
er all this time. Not constantly, but we can contact each other at will and I have apprised him of what goes on.” He sobered. “Hopefully Granna Lorelei has a metal mage in mind familiar with iron poisoning.”
“How much do they know?” Dara kept her voice calm, but there was a hard edge she couldn’t avoid; pointless to try with an empath.
“The battle, being wounded, Jalad, demons, finding Moira.”
Dara narrowed her eyes. “What about me?”
“Life-debt, burning, iron poisoning…miss anything?”
Bone-melting kisses, baths, sleeping together… She elbowed him. “Well, since he knows all about me, seems only fair I know all about him.”
Hani`ena stopped. “Tell her or I shalt.”
Dara nearly fell off. The voice in her mind was strident, with militant overtones. “I can hear her?”
“Her choice, not mine. Dara, my father is a political figure. The position is not elected. Deane shall inherit when Father retires.”
Dara went very still. “You’re talking nobility.”
“Higher,” Hani`ena said with a darkly gleeful undertone.
Dara’s body went ice-cold. “Royalty?” she squawked aloud.
“Aye, and nay. My father is king. Deane is heir.” Loren spoke quickly. “That has naught to do with me or Brannan. The title ‘Lady’s champion’ holds more power and prestige than ‘second son of Cedric’.”
“High King Cedric ta Pari ta Lir,” Hani`ena clarified in a most oh-so-helpful tone.
“Why does that name sound familiar?” Dara’s eyes widened. “Your grandfather wasn’t named for that king Grandmother Lena met. He is that bloody king.”
“Father has been king longer than you have been alive. Five hundred years.”
Blood roared in Dara’s ears. “How old are you, Loren?”
“Three—”
“Centuries?” The edges of her mind blurred.
“Do not faint. You ask, you had best be prepared to handle the answer. We do not lie.”
Dara glanced down at Moira’s second set of dress-plaids. “You lied to me.”
“Not precisely.”
“Omission is still a type of lie,” she snapped, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “What will they think of me?” Lord and Lady, royalty and immortality. Her stomach roiled.
“They shall be happy to meet you and my father shall thank you for saving my life.”
“We should get going. Camping is fine. For squirrels.” Hani`ena broke into a canter and emerged from the tunnel into a land such as Dara had never seen. A golden cast settled over everything. There were trees bigger than she had ever imagined, both leafed and evergreens, ferns as big as Hani`ena, butterflies in vivid colors that made her squint. Birds sang, insects flitted about, and in the distance was a grassy hill full of flowers she smelled even this far away.
Dara fought nausea. What was she doing in this place? A nameless, homeless orphan so far removed from royalty and immortality—
“Okay, stop the self pity right there. You are a warrior by your own declaration. For Goddess’ sake start acting like one.”
Dara glanced at Loren. He stared straight ahead.
“He cannot hear me this time. Just you.”
“Can you hear me?”
“With a lot less effort than you are using now. Just think at me like you were thinking aloud.” Hani`ena paused. “You are easier to speak to than I expected. You at least can focus.”
“We shall be able to see Poshnari-Unai, the capitol city, within the hour,” Loren stated.
“Wonderful. What’s it like?”
“I didn’t know I could mind-speak.”
Hani`ena snorted. “Do not flatter yourself, youngling. I am doing all the work.”
“Cymry Hall stands atop a hill in the center. You shall love my cousin Sirona’s gardens. Granna Lorelei has ponds and fountains and little waterfalls. It is a beautiful place for escape. The baths and spas are famous throughout the land.”
Dara slumped, then regrouped. “Sounds like paradise.”
He shook his head. “Nay, not paradise. Just home.”
Her spine stiffened. “Why speak to me now, horse?”
“Better. Because you shalt need an ally. Not all shalt welcome your presence here. Lorelei and Pari, however, shalt adore you. They are surprisingly emotional. Most are very understated and composed.”
Understated and composed. Dara grimaced. “Sounds like I’ll fit right in.”
“Cedric is very dignified but wise and fair. Losing Ayala and Markale has taken much from his spirit, and he is a worrier by nature, but he has everyone’s best interests in mind at all times.”
“How did they die?”
“Markale was the youngest and Ayala’s favorite son. A warrior like Loren, but more eager and less skilled than his older brother. He and his war mare Ainakea were killed by trolls in a skirmish at Enoka Pass. Ayala was a gentle soul. No spine. She just gave up on the rest of the family and faded away.” Hani`ena paused. “Elves can grieve themselves into mortality and will themselves out of existence.”
Trolls? Dara paused to consider. “Immortality must become a heavy burden after a time.”
“Indeed. Astute of you to get past the obvious.”
“Tell me about your brothers. What are they like?”
“Brannan likes to use words no one understands just to show off but he is a good sort. Deane is the future king and stands very much on ceremony and protocol.”
“Who’s your best friend after Hani`ena? Who’d you get into trouble with growing up?”
Loren grinned. “Cianan ta Daneal. We stole snow-apples from the temple orchard and slid down the palace railings. We hung Sirona’s pantaloons from the bell tower. He went to the academy with me and is now archery instructor. I do not know if I should introduce you. He is quite the ladies’ man.”
“Cianan is a harmless flirt. Deane you must watch. He ever wants what Loren has. Beware.”
“What about you, Dara? Who was your best friend?”
Dara rode in silence, unable to answer. How to describe growing up with secrets and forbidden knowledge, abilities and training? Her disaffinity for animals prevented having a pet. Her parents were her instructors and the villagers thought of her as but useful. “I was too busy for friends.”
Loren looked at her for a long moment. “Sirona would love a friend with whom to share new ideas and adventures. She is not circumspect either and is often at odds with those around her.”
Sounded like any family. Loren’s vow returned to her, but Dara wondered whether she was ally or captive.
They crested the hill, and Hani`ena stopped to let her take it in. Poshnari-Unai, the capitol city of the eastdawn elves. Once, her grandmother stood here, Dara shivered. What family secrets would she discover from Pari ta Lir? The city gleamed white and gold in the sunlight, rising tiers of walls and buildings and colored banners fluttering in the breeze. Its sheer size and beauty took her breath away. She stared at the biggest, highest building. Cymry Hall. Loren’s home. A royal palace.
The very thought made her ill all over again. She glanced back at Loren. Not a common warrior. A prince.
A liar.
Loren closed his eyes. He took in a long slow breath and held it, then exhaled. “We are home.”
“We are welcomed.”
Dara stared at the approaching cloud of dust. A white war mare and her rider galloped toward them.
Loren laughed and waved. “Cianan and Kikeona.”
Dara straightened and tried smoothing her rumpled wool skirts as the other warrior approached. Kikeona slid to a showy stop afore them and with a whoop Cianan clasped Loren’s forearm in greeting. “About time you arrived. The entire place has been in an uproar since we were told you would arrive today.” He stared at Loren’s appearance. “Are you well?”
Loren stiffened. “Well enough.”
“Lady’s champion.” Cianan shook his head. “Lord and Lady, I sense a tale there.”
Cianan stared right back while Hani`ena and Kikeona touched noses. “You never told me the women outside our realm were so fair of form. Mayhaps I should venture out more often.”
Dara glared at him. “The women outside your realm are fairer of mind than form and can speak for themselves.”
“She speaks.” He clutched his heart.
“And knows which end of a blade to hold, so I would have your respect, sir.” Dara planted her fists against her hips.
Loren grinned. “She saved my life. The Boars would have had me for their fires.”
Cianan sobered. “My thanks, vertenya. He is my best friend. I would have mourned him and avenged his murder.”
“Vertenya is a very old word meaning Goddess-warrioress. What does that tell you of women warriors?”
“That you are overdue for the next generation.”
“Since he rescued me from those same fires I’d call us even.”
Cianan stared at them. “Life-debt?”
“Indeed.” Loren pulled her closer.
She fought the urge to relax against him. Lying prince. No wonder he acted so high-handed all the time—he was used to ordering people about. Well, he’d not order her.
“Ah, well. Good.” Cianan beamed approval at them.
What was she missing? Dara wondered.
“I want to get home.” Loren rubbed his hand up and down Dara’s arm. She wondered if he was even aware he was doing it, but was grateful for the comforting gesture all the same.
She frowned. She didn’t want to be comforted, or grateful. He’d lied to her and dragged her here against her will. All she wanted was to go home to her simple life. Fighting, healing—those things she understood. Royalty and immortality and magic? She wanted no part of that.
“Demons?” Hani`ena added.
Dara wanted to kick something. Demons were out of her league. She knew she needed help, and Loren was right to bring in more aid, but she didn’t have to like it.