by AS Hamilton
'I just need to get in and speak with one,' Brynn explained. 'She knows already that I will not be able to leave with her.'
Sariah flicked a glance at him that was echoed by Kaydyr. In that brief look he detected surprise and doubt. The warrior was wondering what conversation could possibly worth the risk of physically breaking in to see a mage, but Brynn kept that to himself.
Finally, Sariah nodded. 'I will need to connect with some of my contacts to find out where the one you wish to speak to is being kept, but I believe I can achieve what you want.'
'How long will it take for us to get to Sal-Cirus?'
'If we leave at dawn, only a day and a night, and possibly a morning, depending on how long we rest in the between time and whether you can use your talent to help the horses.'
Brynn looked to Sariah and then Kaydyr. 'Despite my reluctance to leave this group here, it would be to my advantage to have your company, and, as you pointed out, with a little preparation we can reduce any risks to them.'
Sariah rose. 'You rest. I will take Hagen and Rose now to refill our water skins. If we each keep one, we can give the group our spares and that should get them by well enough. I saw some veticue trees on my last trip to the creek and there are likely to be mushrooms near them, so we will stop to have a look on our way back. It may not be a feast, but it should be sufficient.'
Her comment made Brynn smile. She really was quite amazing, Brynn thought as he watched her walk over to speak to Hagen and Rose. She kept calling him a child, but there was barely forty turns difference in their ages, which, by elvan standards, was not a great deal. Yet, he had no doubt Sariah could do anything she made up her mind to do. Brynn was feeling drowsy, but that was not surprising considering his recent use of talent. He could hear Sariah and the others conversing quietly, their soft murmurs fading as Brynn's eyes started to drift close.
'Lots of food and lots of rest when you first start out,' Belon had instructed. Brynn could recall many a time when, after healing, she would go straight to the kitchen, finish off three bowls of whatever she could find and go to bed. Often, she recovered within a few hours. When he had first started, it had taken him days to recover after healing only minor injuries. It should not be that bad this time. It was just as Belon said; experience shortened his recovery time.
Day 4 – Sunset
Outside Sal-Cirus
(near Bria-ghel Strait)
Ko-rayen let Fallon-tey graze while he stretched his legs and enjoyed the view from their hilltop position. He was not entirely comfortable up here in the open, but he had to admit the feeling of the sun on his head was quite a pleasure. And he knew his dwarven charger particularly liked the sweeter grass here. Fallon-tey was the third in his generation to partner with Ko-rayen. They did not speak as such, but there was an empathic link that provided rider and horse with a complete understanding of each other.
Nisari was overdue, but not enough to cause him concern. The thought made him wonder what it was she suspected the journey-walker was dreaming about for her to take such a risk. Leyhera held an integral key to The Prophecy, and in this war it was knowledge that would lead to the restoration of Andarea to the elvan. Keldon had understood that better than Malithorn. Indeed, Keldon had done all the hard work, leaving his son in a position of unmistakable power.
Ko-rayen purposefully turned his thoughts away from Malithorn Abbarane. He did not need to belabour the series of events that lead to their current situation, he always ended up frustrated with no means to express it. Not without jeopardising the sacrifices they had all made. Ko-rayen let himself drop into a semi-trance where his mind could rest. He had whiled away countless hours twisting in emotional turmoil. His mother had been right, someone had to stay to protect Toormeena. But Toormeena was not the only reason for his staying. He believed in Ni-sari and Colnba. They were life-long friends and Ko-rayen was not about to shirk his loyalty just because things had become challenging. His mother had recognised that. She had seen the anguish in him that day in Sal-Cirus, when they all realised Keldon was going to win, when they heard… heard? Nay, felt Diannra and Caradon die. Toormeena had confirmed it, shoving her mother through the secret tunnel and begging them to leave her to prevent Keldon coming after them. 'He will not kill me, I saw The Prophecy, he knows that,' she had said. He had shoved his brother in after Tooriana, and then his mother. When she had looked back to check he was following, she had seen it in his expression. She had placed a hand upon his cheek, the gesture both farewell and forgiveness. 'Regardless of the truth of what Toormeena says about Keldon, she will need protection, you need to stay, ena-ra,' she had said, using an elvan term of affection. For all their differences, when it counted, his mother had stood by him, just as he would stand by Colnba and Nisari.
Ko-rayen dropped abruptly from his trance.
Fallon-tey's black-horned head snapped up, in sync with his rider.
Someone was using talent. Somewhere nearby...
And it was not Nisari.
Fallon-tey was moving even as his rider broke into a sprint and launched onto his back.
The soft sound of metal sliding against metal started as Ko-rayen activated his armour. The black armour, shot through with dark red and gold, was inspired by the Ko-renti crest; Yllen-kaan, the black fire dragon. The helm was modelled on the fierce creature, with four black horns arcing back from the magnificent head and two more curving down alongside its jaw. Leaning over Fallon-tey's neck, Ko-rayen sped in the direction his senses indicated. The hill they had been waiting upon lead directly into the forest nearest the tunnel exit Nisari would use. The downward direction gave extra momentum to Fallon-tey's thundering gallop.
A mere instant before Fallon-tey charged into Linuk's talented trap, the charger's senses prickled with warning and he tossed his rider even as he plunged into the trap. The horse found himself instantly still, raised on hind legs, horned head swung up, ebony mane fanned out, teeth bared ferociously.
Rolling to his feet, Ko-rayen took in the scene with a glance. Nisari and her horse were motionless. At first he thought they were frozen, but they were not still, they were just moving at a pace almost too slow to detect. A planes-walker? It could not be! Yet, controlling time was only within the reach of one. Helpless, Nisari's amber eyes bespoke both frustration and despair.
To one side, a honey-coloured dwarven charger pranced nervously at Ko-rayen's arrival. Lying prone over the charger's back was a body that Ko-rayen assumed was Leyhera. Next to the charger, about to mount was an elvan female. In a flash of gold and blue-coloured hair, she whipped her head in his direction.
Linuk! Not a planes-walker, but damnably close.
The rebel mage's expression was one of mixed surprise and horror that swiftly transformed into unbending determination. The air sizzled around Ko-rayen and he knew he had to move fast before Linuk sent talented lightning or fire at him. Drawing a short staff that resembled the shape of a black fire dragon, Ko-rayen dove to one side, using the shrubs to conceal himself as he raced around Linuk's horse. He intended to capture her if he could, and a sword would be too deadly a weapon for that purpose. In the back of his mind he remembered sitting on a grassy expanse with his fellow students as Linuk gave a lecture on the advantages of combining talent with combat. Linuk had been his first crush. That she was centuries older than him only increased his awe. He hated this war. Hated everything Abbarane had done to them. Him, a mere child to her. Her, a legend, a figure of respect…
Exploding through the leafy cover, he lunged between Linuk and her charger.
'Go, Ghella, go!' Linuk sent, causing the charger to spring forward.
Ko-rayen cursed the misfortune that caught Fallon-tey in Linuk's trap, it would be immensely easier if he could send his charger after Linuk's. He struck at the rebel mage, but Linuk blocked his staff with her own half-meter staff, which had the figure of a meernur on its end, the bird's wings were made much deadlier by the addition of blades. She drew her staff back and, with an exertion
of will, expanded it to the length of a spear as she swung it, aiming for his head. Ko-rayen tried to lean out of range, but a bladed-wing sliced against the horn that jutted along his helm's jawline. He gained some space by parrying with his staff, but the rebel mage knew how to fight. This time, she thrust the staff towards his face, sending his head snapping back.
Recovering, Ko-rayen ducked underneath her staff and rammed into the smaller, more-delicate mage, forcing her towards her own trap. Linuk retracted her staff and slammed it into his back repeatedly. He may be holding back, but she certainly was not!
Staggering against the brutal strikes, Ko-rayen tossed her to one side, and pinned her beneath a heavy boot. She was like a doll; light and dainty. But he did not underestimate her and was not surprised that even as his boot came down, she extended her staff again. The bird on the end of Linuk's staff dealt him a dizzying, but glancing, blow to his chin. The strike caused one of the winged-blades to ricochet off the lower horn of his helm, so that a wing-tip stabbed through the shield protecting his eye. Only by using his talent was he able to stop it in time to prevent it from causing damage.
'Linuk, do not do this,' he growled, wrenching her staff free and then twisting it from her grasp and tossing it out of her reach.
'I advise you the same, Ko-rayen. You want me alive, but I assure you, I have no qualms in taking your spirit if that is what I need to do to get Leyhera.'
Ko-rayen grunted as she kicked him hard in the knee. His armour protected him, but it gave her the moment she needed to engulf him in mage-fire, which heated his armour to an unbearable level. Cursing, Ko-rayen retracted his armour and pushed talented barriers into place. At the same time, he constructed barriers around Linuk and drew all the oxygen from the invisible confinement. His intention was to make her pass out, but Linuk was able to tear his barriers down too swiftly.
Again, he found himself surrounded by flames, but his barriers held. Through the fire he saw a blue light emanate from Linuk, growing in brightness until she was a blue flame. It was rare for mages to use shape-change. By unspoken agreement, they did not use the talent in front of any Abbarane loyalist. Malithorn Abbarane already tortured mages for the secret, but to the little king, it was an unconfirmed skill.
As the mage-flames died, Ko-rayen found himself facing the fierce countenance of a meernur. The eagle-like bird, Ko-rayen remembered, was House of Dai-tur's crest. In the wild, they were easily double the size of a horse and lived in the Jagrery Ranges for the most part. Before Keldon invaded, House of Dai-tur had been based there. With their homes built above the snow-enshrouded forest, Dai-tur mages had often travelled by meernur.
Linuk's meernur form attacked and silver talons sliced through his barriers as she bore him to the ground. He could feel the claws breach his clothing. Made of a special light-weight armoured thread, the close-fitting shirt had repelled many a blade, but this mage-creature had a talented advantage over its simple, physical construction.
'When you are met by the bird of prey, you must, Ko-rayen, you must, give way.'
Ko-rayen disregarded Toormeena's words as they echoed in the back of his mind. Drawing in energy he started to shape-change into his own house crest.
Yes, he respected Linuk.
Yes, he wanted her alive, but if the Dai-tur mage thought she could overcome a Ko-renti with ease…
She was wrong.
It was not the first time Linuk had encountered an elvan in service to the Abbaranes. Many of them were held hostage in some manner or other, and that deserved consideration. Yet the Dai-tur mage was just as prepared as her Ko-renti opponent to deliver a fatal strike to achieve her goal. It was not ideal, no, but it was the reality of war. Whatever logic brought Nisari and Colnba into league with Abbarane was never something Linuk could imagine as being worth the cost. Yet the bonded pair and their supporters could not avoid the consequences of their actions.
And she was one of those consequences.
She knew as soon as she felt Ko-rayen draw in the energy that he was shape-changing. Most Ko-rentis would not let their emotions drive them and, thus, would not be goaded into such a move, but Ko-rayen was young, and the twins had not yet completed their training when the war began. Ko-rayen was a formidable fighter. In competition, only his twin, Ko-kelle-rai, could best him. None could wield a sword like Ko-rayen, even sword-masters found themselves impressed. So the trick was to get him to use his talent. And, while she was doing that, why not the most taxing talent? The one that would drain him faster than he would estimate and leave him vulnerable.
She had to give him credit for progressing his training far enough to actually shape-change; most mages never achieved it. To be utterly truthful, Linuk was pushing her own limits using shape-change. A risky tactic, but as the unearthly smoky-black glow emanated from Ko-rayen, she knew it was about to pay off.
Sinking her talons deep into Ko-rayen's shoulders she prepared to revert to her elvan self and call her staff back to her so she could strike him. Then something unexpected happened. Instead of the pain distracting the younger mage, it seemed to bring him to his senses and Linuk found herself reeling as Ko-rayen re-directed the energy for shape-change and, instead of turning into a black fire dragon, sent mage-lightning, full-force, into her. Fortunately, she was in her meernur form else the strike would have mortally wounded her.
Dissolving into her elvan self, Linuk called her staff to her and brought it about in time to deflect Ko-rayen's charge. His cursed short staff broke several of her ribs, his momentum bringing them nose-to-nose on the ground. Red irises shot through with gold flecks met her gaze, his pupils had shrunk to narrow slits. She felt his breath against her lips, saw his sharp canines snap together as the air was forced out between them. She had forgotten the memory until now, Ko-rayen and Ko-kelle-rai dogging her heels that whole season. She had agreed to do the talks as a part of a knowledge exchange program and the presence of a Dai-tur mage at the Debanikay academy had attracted a lot of attention. The Ko-renti brothers had reminded her of may-en-ghi cubs; not quite confident enough to get too close, but curious enough to trail her at a safe distance.
Linuk did not let the emotion of the memory distract her. Hooking her staff under the collar piece that generated Ko-rayen's armour she thrust violently to one side, bending it out of shape and rendering it dysfunctional. Tightening her muscles, she shoved him to the side and rolled to her feet. It gave her time to bring her staff about so she could drive it down towards his now exposed throat.
The jolt of the sudden stop was painful.
As she looked down the staff, she, again, met that disconcerting red gaze. The red in his eyes had darkened, monopolising his irises. For the first time she realised that he had at least a dozen raikiwa, dotted with crystal beads. The smoky-fire colour of his hair acted almost as a halo. This was no longer an awkward, curious child, the Ko-renti heir was a warrior now.
She expected to see the life fade from his eyes. What she neglected to anticipate was the added strength ko-hagen gave Ko-rentis, which contributed to their formidable reputation. Ko-hagen was known as the blood-fire, a berserker trait found only in the Ko-renti bloodline. Once the red colour dominated those irises, she should have recalculated the force she needed. Ko-rayen's gloved hands were wrapped tight around her staff keeping it firmly in place.
'I am not the child you believe you see, Linuk,' Ko-rayen growled.
'Certainly, more experienced,' Linuk observed arching her brows.
'Mayhap. You are Dai-tur; a mage through and through, despite your accomplishments in combat.'
Linuk leaned harder on the staff. 'Ko-renti training may make you the more adept warrior, but you will not thwart me.'
'Precisely why I will act as the warrior I was trained to be. The kind that acknowledges defeat with dignity. We will meet on another battlefield, be assured of that, Linuk. And at that time, Fate may deliver me her favour. Until then, flee — you have won your prize.'
Chapter 6
Day 6
– Morning
Outside Sal-Cirus
(just past Anuruna Lake)
The small creek bubbled merrily as it wound its way through the enclosed grove. Brynn considered the shallow stream of water. It would do.
'Are you sure we need to stop?' Sariah asked. 'The city lies just beyond a series of hills on the other side of this grove, we could be there before mid-day.'
'After all that time in the river Sershja needs dye reapplied to his legs and polish to his hooves. I should have thought of it earlier, but I was too intent on listening to your descriptions of the city. This would also be an appropriate place to stow our gear while we are in Sal-Cirus.'
They agreed earlier that they should travel as lightly as possible, especially if they needed to make a hasty escape. Sariah would take some long knives and Brynn would wear his bracers beneath the long sleeves of his tunic, providing him with a crossbow.
Kaydyr scanned the area, taking in the dozens of trees crowding the creek; well, there were plenty of places to hide their gear. The hawk returned his attention to Brynn and Sershja, the horse's colour was quite patchy and Brynn's hair was starting to look more grey than brown.
'Your hair needs a touch up, too,' she told him.
As Brynn dismounted, he caught up a some of his hair and netted it between his fingers to examine the strands. He made a face Sariah could not interpret, and then patted Sershja's neck.
Sershja snuffed in objection. 'Is it really all that necessary?' he asked sulkily. 'Maybe no one will notice in the city.'
'I do not want to take that chance, Sershja. Worry not,' he added, 'for your patience in this, you will be rewarded with the golden jewels of your desire.'
'I thought you said there weren't any left!'
'Well... I saved a few, knowing—' Sershja started to protest indignantly '—knowing,' Brynn persisted, as he dug into one of the saddle packs, 'that you would appreciate them more now, while you endure my ministrations.'