Vengeance Born (The Light Blade #1)

by Kylie Griffin

  “Here, drink this.” She pressed a wet flask into his hand. The cool water tasted sweet. Despite the temptation, he only drank half then offered it to her. “Keep it. I drank at the river.”

  “Thank you.” He drank again then recapped it. “The ground is steadily rising. We’re headed up an incline. How much farther to the caves?”

  “Perhaps a quarter-hour.” She touched his arm. His skin tingled. “I know you’re tired. Would you let me… help you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A part of my Gift is being able to feel energy levels. It’s how I know when to stop healing someone.” She paused again. “I can pass some of my energy on to you, if you would permit it.”

  He could feel the Lady’s power inside her through the touch they shared, the resonance so similar to his own. He knew of no other healer capable of doing what she claimed she could. It wasn’t unheard of, the Lady’s power being passed from one generation of Light Blade warriors to the next. It was rare but possible. Her mother must have been exceptionally talented.

  Annika was Na’Chi, an anomaly. Not that he’d voice that thought aloud. But having already experienced her healing touch, Kalan inclined his head. “All right.”

  His arm grew warm as the power of her Gift increased. It poured into his body, gently at first, like waves lapping against a bank, but then steadily grew in strength, sweeping away his exhaustion. With it he could feel his senses sharpening, becoming more alert. As the power faded, she withdrew her hand. It left him feeling refreshed and warm once again.

  “Thank you.” Although her face was shadowed, he saw her duck her head as if uncomfortable with his gratitude. “Why do you do that?”

  She was silent a moment then her gaze met his, level, steady. The flecks within her eyes glowed a burnt crimson. The skin between his shoulder blades crawled. She was hungry again.

  “Very few want me to touch them once they know what I am. And those who do allow me are often too afraid to remember.”

  Her reply gave him pause. He couldn’t imagine living without belonging, without approval, without a loving family. With all the suffering she’d experienced, why did she continue to help those who rejected her? He didn’t know if he’d be so noble. “Then why do you keep healing?”

  “Because I can’t imagine doing anything else.” She jumped off the log. “We’d better keep moving. Dawn isn’t far away.”

  Kalan grunted and pushed to his feet. She held out her hand and he took it. They followed the edge of the river using an animal trail. Underfoot the ground was smoother, compacted by hooves and paw prints, and the moonlit sections were more frequent, much to his relief. It gave him some independence.

  “How do you know about these caves?” he whispered.

  “I found them by accident while out foraging for herbs. I needed shelter from a summer storm. Most of the caves are too small for anything but animals, but the one I found is large enough to shelter in. I’ve used it for overnight stays before. No one else knows about it.” Annika spared him a glance over her shoulder and he heard her take a deeper breath. “It’s my safe haven. A place where I can find peace and forget about who and what I am.” Her gaze held his a moment longer then dropped away, as if she expected some ridiculing remark.

  The stark loneliness of her life struck Kalan low in his gut. Anyone else would have sought out the company of friends. She’d found solace in a cold, empty cave. Was she expecting him to respond? Should he? In the end, he couldn’t think of anything to say. Her truth was something he just had to accept.

  Passing through another clearing he peered upward. The stars were no longer bright pinpricks of light in a curtain of black. Grey tinged the eastern sky. Ahead he could see the silhouetted shape of a small, rocky hill covered in bushes.

  Annika’s arm suddenly slapped against his midriff. “Stop!” she hissed and glanced to her right.

  He could see nothing but shadows along the opposite bank of the river. “What?”

  He heard her inhale. “Can’t you smell that?”

  The pungent odor of mud from the river and the scent of his own sweat filled his lungs as he took a deep breath. Whatever she sensed eluded him.

  A howl shattered the quiet of the forest.

  “Vorc!”

  The word sent a cold shiver skittering down his spine. The predatory animals were used by the Na’Reish to hunt humans. It was how he’d been captured. They’d been used to sniff out humans who’d run from the raiding party and hidden within the woods. If the beasts hadn’t been muzzled and controlled by their trainers, he and the half-dozen villagers hiding with him would have been torn to shreds.

  Had his absence from the Pit already been discovered? The snapping and cracking of branches sounded in the distance. Something large and heavy was racing toward them. Annika’s hand squeezed his.

  “They’ve scented us.” In the moonlight, her face was pinched with fear, the flecks in her eyes glowed yellow. “Run!”

  Chapter 4

  DESPERATION and anxiety drove Kymora from her bed and to the Lady’s temple. While the hour was late, well past the new morning watch, she half expected to find a fellow Handmaiden or Manservant keeping vigil at the altar.

  Without sight, she tilted her head to one side, relying on her other senses to tell her what she couldn’t see and listened for the murmur of prayers, the sound of breathing or footsteps, and heard only blessed silence. The empty blankness at the edge of her mind assured her that no Servant occupied the temple. Had her appearance startled them she’d have sensed the flare of surprise in their aura.

  Her shoulders sagged in relief. She needed this time alone to search her heart and organize her thoughts. The previous evening’s meeting with the Blade Council, coupled with the news of Kalan’s disappearance and suspected capture by the Na’Reish, had left her in turmoil and she needed the Lady’s guidance.

  Her temper warmed her with the memory of several scathing comments some of the Councilors had leveled at Kalan’s decision to visit the border village. Rather than embracing his policy of being a warrior who remained accessible to his people, a quality they needed now more than ever, they’d criticized his approach and urged him to remain within the walls of Sacred Lake.

  She shivered, more from the emotions welling within her than the cold night air upon her skin. Clutching her thick woolen temple robe around her, she made her way carefully down the center aisle, counting her strides, her staff sweeping from side to side, its taps echoing back off the high stone ceiling. When she found the stone altar, she knelt and placed her staff within arm’s reach. It took a few moments to find the incense sticks.

  Her hands shook as she struck a flame-tip to light the stick. Kalan’s absence was not yet common knowledge, and until a successor for his position was found it wouldn’t be announced. The Blade Council wanted her to temporarily take his place. Their request implied they thought him dead, which she refused to believe as true.

  She sighed. The sweet scent of the incense usually calmed her but tonight her worries weighed too heavily on her mind for it to help.

  “Lady, forgive me, I know I promised to serve you with all my heart, mind, and soul… but Kalan is the only family I have left,” she whispered, her throat too tight to voice her thoughts any louder.

  She reached for the flat metal amulet hanging between her breasts and drew it out from under her robe. Trying to focus her thoughts, she ran her fingertips over the indented circle etched into it then followed each wavy line radiating out from it. The sun: a reassuring symbol of strength and life.

  A gentle breeze brushed her cheek. The scent of new-fallen rain and fresh flowers overrode the odor of incense. Kymora’s heart leapt as she sensed the familiar buildup of energy around her. It was soothing, all-powerful. A heartbeat later, she felt the warmth of someone standing beside her and the flutter of silky cloth brush her cheek.

  “HANDMAIDEN, I HEAR YOUR PRAYER.”

  “You bless me with your presence, Lady.”


  A hand touched her head. “I FEEL THE ACHE IN YOUR HEART… THE WORRY IN YOUR MIND FOR YOUR BROTHER.”

  “Please forgive my selfish thoughts, Lady.”

  “HE WAS YOUR BROTHER FIRST BEFORE HE CHOSE TO SERVE ME, KYMORA. THERE’S NO SHAME IN THINKING AS YOU DO.”

  Kymora bowed her head and closed her sightless eyes as they burned with tears at the wealth of compassion and love that flowed through her. “Lady, I beg you to keep him safe…”

  “HIS JOURNEY HAS ENDED.”

  Her breath caught. The impulse to issue an immediate denial rose on her lips. Guilt at her selfish reaction kept her silent. Whatever happened to Kalan was a part of Her plan, Her journey path for him to traverse. As hard as it was to accept Her words, to question Her will was akin to paramount disrespect.

  “BE AT EASE, HANDMAIDEN. YOU KNOW THAT WE TRAVEL MANY PATHS WITHIN OUR OWN LIVES. YOUR BROTHER’S FIRST JOURNEY HAS ENDED; ANOTHER BEGINS.”

  “He’s still alive?” Relief forced the question.

  “HE DOES NOT COMPLETE THE FINAL JOURNEY BUT THE PATH HE WALKS NOW WILL NOT BE EASY. MANY WILL OPPOSE HIS CHOICE, ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO HAVE DONE SO IN THE PAST.”

  Was she referring to the Blade Council? Kymora bit her lip, forcing herself to listen, to ignore the myriad of questions hammering through her mind. Discipline and patience would serve her better.

  An aura of approval brushed her mind. “ANOTHER JOURNEYS WITH HIM. HER PRESENCE IS NECESSARY. SHE THREATENS ALL WE KNOW BUT MUST BE WELCOMED. AS DO THOSE WHO COME AFTER HER. MY CHILDREN MUST SURVIVE.”

  “Survive?” She blurted that without thought. “Your pardon, Lady.”

  “YOUR STRENGTH AND LEADERSHIP WILL BE NEEDED IN THE COMING DAYS. DECISIONS MADE IN THE PAST MUST BE REVEALED AS THEY WILL DEFINE US AND SET THE PATH WE MUST TAKE TOWARD THE FUTURE. HEED MY WORDS.”

  Kymora had long ago accepted the mysteries She revealed when She spoke to one of Her Servants. Unraveling the puzzle and understanding what was asked of them would come with time. “I’ll speak your words to the Council and your Servants, Lady.”

  She sensed Her hesitation and resisted the urge to lift her head.

  “HANDMAIDEN, YOUR FOURTH JOURNEY BEGINS SOON. DON’T BE AFRAID TO TAKE THE PATH I’VE CHOSEN FOR YOU.”

  Surprise tingled through her. The Lady rarely allowed the one She spoke with to know her future. What was coming that She felt it necessary to warn her? “I rely on your strength and wisdom to make the right decision, Merciful Mother.”

  “YOUR DEDICATION WILL NOT GO UNREWARDED.”

  The hand on her head lifted. Her warmth and power slowly faded and the scent of incense filled Kymora’s lungs once again. She remained kneeling, thinking, long after Her presence had retreated.

  The patter of footsteps on the flagstones behind her made her stir. She reached for her staff.

  “Your knees have frozen to the prayer stone again, haven’t they, Kymora?”

  The age-worn voice and lighthearted question brought a smile to her lips. “Good morning, Nemtar.” She heard a rusty squeak and listened to the temple’s oldest Manservant set his lantern on a temple bench. “Is the sun shining this morning?”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t guess it. There’s a layer of ice coating the courtyard.” His robes whispered against the stone floor as he headed for the dais where they kept the temple’s supply of candles. “Nor by the temperature in here. You haven’t been here all night, have you?”

  “No.” Kymora used her staff to help her rise. “I’ll light the candles, Nemtar. Would you ring the temple chime, please?”

  The old man’s footsteps halted. “She’s spoken to you?”

  “Yes. I have a message the Blade Council must hear.”

  As Nemtar hurried off to ring the chime, she inhaled a deep breath. She allowed herself a moment to rejoice in the fact that Kalan had survived the Na’Hord attack and hoped he was safe, wherever he was. In her heart she knew he’d do everything in his power to return home.

  Her step was lighter as she tapped her way to the dais and retrieved the morning prayer candles. The fresh odor of lemon-scented wax filled her lungs. Her duties as the Lady’s Handmaiden would take only a few moments, then she could focus on the coming meeting. She had the feeling she would need all her wits, as the Lady’s words were likely to cause a stir.

  ANNIKA threw the strap of her healer’s pouch over Kalan’s shoulder as they reached the base of the rocky outcrop. There was enough moonlight to make out hand- and footholds in the faces of the rocks. She heard the splashing of one, then two heavy bodies in the river not more than a stone’s throw behind them. Adrenaline spurted through her, quickened her breathing.

  “Vorc can’t climb,” she gasped. It was almost their only weakness. “See that bent tree about halfway up? The cave entrance is behind it. Don’t stop, no matter what you hear, do you understand?”

  Kalan turned toward her. “What are you—?”

  “No time!” she hissed and pushed him toward the rocks. “Up!”

  She watched only to make sure he’d begun the climb, then pivoted on her heel. Swallowing hard against a dry throat, she sent a swift prayer to the Lady for help then stepped forward to meet the two Vorc racing up the slope.

  The incline barely slowed their powerful, barrel-like bodies. Their claws churned up the soft dirt underfoot, and pointed snouts with long, sharp fangs were low to the ground as they raced along the animal trail, tracking Kalan’s human scent. Prodigious hunters, they could track for days and through most weather.

  Moonlight glinted off metal chain amongst the fur at the ruff of their necks. Annika inhaled a relieved breath. While their Masters’ saddles were absent, they wore the collars of trained Vorc. That meant they were out hunting alone rather than on patrol with any of the Na’Hord. It gave her and Kalan a chance of remaining undetected—if she could deal with them. The musky odor of the oil in their shaggy coats sharpened as they drew closer.

  When they saw her, they split up and approached from two sides, their small slitted, luminescent green eyes glowing with feral intelligence. The larger one, the alpha male standing eye to eye with her in height was the one she watched.

  “Shavesh ka ris!” It took all of her courage to issue that command, clear and loud.

  From the corner of her gaze she saw the ears of the smaller, female Vorc lift from its skull. Her stalking stopped as she followed the order, transforming from predatory to command alert. The male kept coming.

  She swallowed dryly. “Shavesh ka ris!”

  The alpha’s nostrils flared and his upper lip curled back as he caught her scent. He hesitated, narrow head tilting to one side. Sharp, dagger-length fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Blood stained his whiskery jaw. They’d already hunted and fed. She shivered. Once sated Vorc often wounded new prey and chose to play with it until it died from exhaustion or shock.

  “Shavesh ka vaag!” Heart pounding, she enforced the command with a descending hand signal. The female Vorc lowered herself to the ground.

  The male snorted and huffed as he caught her scent again. He glanced to the female then back at her. His saliva-covered lip dropped and his nose twitched again. Slowly, he lowered himself as well, still poised, his muscled body tensed. For once her blood was a blessing. She smelled Na’Reish enough for the Vorc to believe she was one of them. The male had acknowledged her command but her hold on him was tenuous.

  Annika moved closer and to one side of the male, very aware that she was now within striking range of his unsheathed claws. His lip trembled as a rumble came from deep within his chest.

  “Kula veh, be calm, kula veh…” She kept her actions slow, her words soft and soothing, keeping her gaze on the spurs on the back of his claws. They glinted wetly, coated in a deadly poison the males used to paralyze their prey. During training, and while on patrol, they were usually capped to avoid accidental poisoning of Master or human prey.

  Placing her hand on the alpha male’s hide, she gently stroked the coarse pel
t. The pungent, musky odor coming from his fur was almost overwhelming. She kept her breathing shallow as she smoothed her hand along his side. The bristles on his neck lowered the longer she petted and murmured reassurance. She focused her thoughts on that rather than the pounding of her heart.

  She’d never imagined having to use the commands employed by the Na’Hord Masters in charge of training the Vorc. The many hours spent in the pens treating the warriors for injuries sustained during obedience lessons now seemed fortuitous.

  Hoping the Lady would forgive her, she honed in on the beast’s life energy beneath her hand. Like all wild animals, the energy was pulsing and raw, hard to link with.

  “I’m sorry,” Annika murmured and aimed one, focused burst of energy straight into his heart, just as she had done with the guards, and stopped it. Her power surged through her, burning like the flames of a fire, but necessary to end the Vorc’s life instantly. She bore the pain as the huge body jerked, then dropped to the ground.

  An earsplitting howl shattered the night air. She barely turned to face the female when she was knocked from her feet. The massive weight on top of her drove the breath from her lungs.

  “Annika?” Kalan’s shout broke through the Vorc’s incensed snarls. Annika twisted her fingers in the fur at the animal’s neck as her claws ripped through her dress. Hot pain scored her side. She twisted, trying to avoid being shredded completely. Needle-sharp teeth sank deep into her forearm; agonizing tendrils of fire lanced every nerve and muscle. She screamed.

  “Annika!” Boots scrambled on rock. Glancing up, Annika saw Kalan descending the cliff.

  “No!” Her warning came out as a hoarse whisper.

  The Vorc released her arm and went for Annika’s face. Annika locked her hands around the straining neck and jerked her head aside. The female’s jaw snapped so close to her ear, she felt the hot, moist breath on the skin of her neck. The Vorc lunged again. Agony tore through her shoulder as her teeth pierced skin and muscle then grated on bone.