Pawns (The Wielders of Arantha Book 1)

by Patrick Hodges

They stood up, and Kelia walked a few yards to an open spot. After a few deep breaths, Kelia closed her eyes and lowered her head, calling upon her abilities.

  The cloth of Kelia's tunic rippled in the brisk breeze that seemed to come from nowhere. The wind encircled her, light at first but with more and more force. She felt her forehead crinkle in concentration, and within seconds, her feet lifted off the ground. Slowly, majestically, she rose into the air.

  Kelia opened her eyes to see Maeve gawking at her. Kelia smiled back, and the slight lapse of concentration caused her to momentarily lose focus. She slipped and fell, bracing herself for impact.

  And then, just like that, she was floating again. The strain Kelia felt a moment ago was gone. She looked up to see Maeve, holding her hands out in front of her.

  Kelia felt a surge of energy pulsate through her body, exactly as it had the previous night when she'd consoled Maeve. They were sharing something. Not thoughts or memories, but energy. Kelia had never considered the possibility of one Wielder sharing their own power with another. Not only did Maeve possess the ability to heal and communicate with animals, but she could augment other Wielders' abilities.

  This was unprecedented. But then, never before had two such powerful Wielders undergone the Sharing.

  “Maeve!” Kelia shouted over the fiercely-blowing wind, unable to keep the joyous smile from her face.

  “Oh my God!” Maeve screamed, as if just realizing her part in this revelation. “Am I doing this?”

  “Yes!” Kelia waved her hands slightly, and she found she could move herself through the air with ease. She went up, down, forwards, backwards, side-to-side. It felt natural. Exhilarating. As easy as breathing.

  Concentrating once again, she watched her sister Wielder's face light up as, with another slight movement of her hands, Maeve lifted off the ground as well.

  Maeve let out a squeal of excitement. “Kelia!”

  “Relax, don't struggle,” Kelia said, smiling mischievously. The two of them floated, at arm's length, in a rotating circle, five feet off the ground.

  Kelia held her hands out, and Maeve did the same. Their fingers interlocked as they continued their aerial dance, their hair whipping wildly in the fierce breeze of their own creation. But the childish grins never left their faces.

  Never in Kelia's entire life had she felt such liberation. To laugh at gravity was one thing, but to do it jointly, with a remarkable woman she'd already come to admire, was something else entirely. She fed off the energy Maeve supplied her. It was intoxicating.

  She gazed into Maeve's deep, violet eyes, which shined with the same exuberance she was feeling with every fiber of her being.

  And then the ground came up and hit them as they crashed to the dirt, finally breaking their contact, and with it, the feeling of euphoric glee.

  Both women quickly sat up. “Are you all right?” Maeve asked.

  Kelia checked her hands and arms, which had taken the brunt of the fall. “I appear to be uninjured.”

  They locked eyes again, and burst into laughter. This went on for many moments.

  Maeve, gasping for breath, panted, “Wow, Kelia. That was … incredible. Just incredible. Thank you.”

  Kelia edged her body forward, placing a gentle hand on Maeve's shoulder. “Thank you, Maeve. I don't know that any Ixtrayu in history has ever experienced what I just did.” She gazed deeply into the Terran woman's eyes, and wondered if Maeve shared the desires that were all but consuming her.

  Could it be true? Kelia thought. Dare I hope …?

  Kelia leaned forward in anticipation.

  Maeve leaned forward as well.

  Their breath held.

  Their eyes closed.

  Their lips met.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  W ith a final pull on the ropes by eight of the burliest men in Elzor's ranks, the enormous metal door fell outward and into the wide corridor. The resulting crash caused all present to cover their ears. They had to turn their backs to avoid the billowing clouds of dust thrown up by the door's fall.

  It had taken the terrified chemist only a few hours to produce a large amount of sargonic acid. Elzor wasted no time having one of his trusted lieutenants apply it to the door's massive hinges. As advertised, the acid quickly ate through both the machinite of the hinges and the rock edging the door frame, creating enough space for grappling hooks attached to strong ropes to be inserted. A few hefty tugs, and the giant door obediently fell to the ground.

  Brushing the residual dust from his face and beard, Elzor beckoned to several of his men further down the corridor. “Torches! Now!” Four men with lit torches immediately came forward with Langon's massive frame towering right behind them. Elzor snatched one from a soldier's hand and approached the gaping hole in the wall of the sub-dungeon.

  The musty smell of death assaulted Elzor's nostrils as he neared the entrance, but he ignored it. He'd smelled far more rancorous odors at Mogran, and now that the object of his quest was quite possibly within his grasp, he wasn't going to let any foul stench deter him.

  He entered the dank room, which was much smaller than he imagined it to be. As the torch-light swept into every corner, his exultation turned to frustration, then to seething rage. Apart from a two-inch layer of dust on the floor and the remains of a skeleton in the corner, the room was empty.

  “Well, go on, search the place!” he bellowed, using his head to indicate the floor. “Search every square inch of this room!”

  He stepped back out into the corridor as the soldiers fell to their hands and knees, searching the dusty floor for anything that might resemble the storied Agrusian Stone. His fists and teeth were clenched as he approached his general. “That old braga! Even with the lives of children at stake, he lied to me! If he weren't dead, I would kill him!”

  Langon's face remained impassive. “I don't understand, my liege. If the Stone is not here, why lie about it? Could he have been unaware?”

  “Unaware? Of course he was aware, Langon! He, like every King of Agrus for the last eight centuries, chose to maintain this absurd lie even at the cost of the lives of his citizens! His own granddaughter!”

  “But why, my liege?”

  He gave Langon a withering look. “To plant a seed of doubt in the minds of any who might choose to invade Agrus, of course!” He clenched his fists, and gave an exasperated sigh. “According to legend, it was a stone that channeled untold power. Normally, I would not be swayed by such superstitious nonsense, but the letters I read in the Viceroy's library indicate that not one, but two stones exist on Elystra … besides the one my sister and I found in the mines of Barju.”

  “Yes, my liege.” Langon bowed his head. “I'm no expert, but it seems clear that no one has been on the other side of this door for centuries. The Stone is long gone … if it was ever here at all.”

  Elzor locked his hands behind his back and took a few purposeful paces down the sparsely lit corridor. His breathing had quickened, and he hung his head. “I have spent my entire adult life working for this moment, Langon. I have pored through every musty scroll, in every repository of knowledge I could find, on the subject of the Stones. It exists, and I will find it.”

  Langon followed Elzor's footsteps, placing a meaty hand on his liege's shoulder. “I, and the rest of the Elzorath, will follow you wherever you may lead us, even unto death.”

  Elzor turned to look at Langon, his face an emotionless mask.

  “You should know, my liege,” Langon continued, “that in the past week, several hundred men, believing Elzaria's abilities to be a divine gift from Arantha, have shown up at the castle gates, ready to swear their allegiance to you. We have more than replenished the losses we sustained when we sacked the city.” He paused. “But even with your sister's help, our numbers are not sufficient to withstand the combined might of all our enemies' armies.”

  “I am aware of that,” Elzor said. “I trust you have personally vetted these men? We wouldn't want an Imarian or Daradian spy t
o infiltrate our ranks.”

  “Of course, my liege. You now have a thousand men at your disposal. But even blind loyalty will wane if it is not given direction. The good news is, we have availed ourselves of the land's resources: our men are now outfitted with the best armor and weapons this side of Darad. And not only that, but we have nearly enough merychs for every Elzorath to ride.”

  “That is good,” Elzor said.

  “Has your sister awoken from her sleep, my liege?”

  Elzor shook his head. “Not as of yet, but I have men stationed outside her bedroom door who will inform me the moment she does. I would have probably attributed her collapse to exhaustion if not for the fact that she seems to be having visions.”

  The previous evening, he'd allowed his sister access to the Stone, only to be told that it had shown her images of a great metallic bird somewhere within the vast Kaberian Mountain range. She'd also seen two beings, much like Elystrans in appearance, moving about their tiny camp on some unknown task. Elzor asked Elzaria to provide more details, but the otherworldliness of the images had utterly baffled her. After their meal, he sent her back to her room to consult the Stone again, but she'd lapsed into a comatose state before she could do so. Nothing they did for her succeeded in waking her up, but her heart was strong. All they could do was wait.

  Langon's dark, beady eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond.

  Elzor faced him full on. “What is it?”

  “None on Elystra have experienced visions outside the High Mages of Darad,” he said. “At least, not that I'm aware of. I am bothered by the timing of this development. The appearance of this 'metal bird,' as she described it, at nearly the exact moment that we discover the Agrusian Stone missing, cannot be a coincidence.”

  “I'm inclined to agree with you. Let us hope that when Elzaria wakes, she provides us with our next destination. It will take many weeks for our enemies' armies to combine forces and make the journey to Agrus. We must be well on our way long before they near the border.”

  “Yes, my liege.” Langon bowed again.

  The soldiers assigned to search the small room emerged with torches in hand, approached Elzor, and knelt at his feet.

  Elzor addressed the one in front. “Speak, Nilrem.”

  “We searched every inch, my liege.” He raised his head to meet Elzor's gaze. “There was no Stone. However, we also studied the skeleton. Most of his bones and clothing crumbled to dust when we entered, but from what we could salvage, we don't believe they belonged to an Agrusian.”

  “Explain,” Elzor said, straightening his spine and holding his arms akimbo.

  Nilrem held out a handful of ancient coins and a small, sheathed dagger, which Elzor took. “If I had to guess, I'd say he was a thief or a raider.”

  Elzor turned the objects over in his hands. The coins were definitely ancient, and not made of metal at all. It felt like polished stone. The dagger was equally devoid of metal, as it must have come from a time that predated metalworking on Elystra. The hilt of the dagger was wooden, and the blade itself was sharpened stone.

  “Very good, Nilrem. You and your men, get some breakfast and rejoin your regiment. Spread the word to remain alert and at the ready, for we may be moving our army out soon.”

  “Yes, my liege.” As one, the men rose to their feet, saluted by placing a closed fist against their left breast, and moved up the corridor, past Elzor and Langon, heading for the stairs leading up to ground level.

  After their footsteps faded away, Elzor held the objects out to Langon. “What do you make of these?”

  Langon grabbed an additional torch from where it had been anchored to the wall, bringing the light as close as he dared to the objects in Elzor's hands. “I am unfamiliar with ancient currency, my liege.” He cautiously took the dagger and unsheathed it, holding the stone blade close to the light. After a few moments' studying, he said, “If I didn't know better, I'd swear this stone was echorite.”

  “Echorite?” Elzor said. “That's volcanic, isn't it?”

  “Yes, my liege. And the only volcano I know of is Mount Vaska, on the eastern coast. It marks the beginning of the southern wastelands, and is only a day's ride from the border of –”

  “Vanda,” Elzor interrupted. “The man was a Vandan raider.”

  “It would appear so.”

  Elzor, in a sudden rage, reared his arm back and flung the coins into the darkened vault. “The Vandans stole the Stone! Those blagging barbarians!”

  Langon took several steps backward, not daring to utter a sound.

  Elzor took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself but not succeeding. “No wonder the royals lied all this time! It wouldn't do for the people of Agrus to know that Vandan raiders had absconded with their precious Stone, now, would it?”

  “Will we be leaving for Vanda, then, my liege?” Langon piped up, his voice trembling with more than a little trepidation. “If we wish to avoid the borders of Barju, Imar and Darad, not to mention the Kaberian mountains, we will have to cross the Praskian Desert and the Plains of Iyan. It will take many weeks to make the journey, even by merych.”

  Elzor nodded. “Have the men begin preparations, Langon. We will move out within the next few days, assuming Elzaria is able to rouse herself in that time. We will want to maintain a steady pace, so have the men pack no more than we need. We may need to hunt for our food in addition to our provisions. I will plan the most direct route for us.”

  Langon bowed once more. “I will relay those orders, my liege.” Then he turned on his heels and followed the soldiers to the stairs leading upward.

  Elzor stared at the stone dagger in his palm. “Vandans,” he spat. “I will rid Elystra of those ignorant savages once and for all.” Then, eager to breathe fresh air again, he made his way back to the surface.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  W hat the bloody FARK, Maeve?

  The excitement, the adrenaline rush from being the first Earth-born human to actually fly without artificial means, added to the unexpected, sudden attraction she had to Kelia, had led to this.

  It hadn't even been two weeks since her beloved husband, the father of her son, sacrificed himself so they could escape. The man she vowed to honor and cherish as he slipped the ring onto her finger. His body, if there was anything left of it, had barely had time to grow cold, and here she was, in the arms of another. A woman, no less. Holding her. Embracing her. Thinking wanton thoughts of her.

  How could I do this?

  What does this say about me?

  I am so going to Hell.

  After only a few moments, Maeve broke the kiss, scrambled to her feet, and backed away like she'd been stung. She felt her whole body tremble as she realized the line she'd just crossed.

  Maeve turned her head, unable to look at the woman who had tempted her so. “I–I–I'm sorry. I–I–shouldn't have done that.” Maeve cast a frantic look at the Talon, uttering a silent prayer of gratitude when she confirmed Davin hadn't seen her massive indiscretion.

  After several deep breaths, Maeve sat down at the table again, her eyes locking on the Stone. In the light of day, the yellow glow it gave off was much more subdued, but still noticeable. She heard Kelia's footsteps as the Elystran woman moved away from her.

  Maeve glanced up. Kelia was leaning on Fex, her hands grasping the beast's saddle for support. Guilt washed over Maeve as she observed Kelia's posture; her shoulders sagged, as if an invisible weight were pressing down upon them.

  Maeve quickly made her way over. “Kelia?”

  “I have acted shamefully,” Kelia said. Maeve noticed she was trembling. “I let my feelings of exhilaration sweep away my inhibitions like a child. I should know better than that.” She sighed heavily, her body still shaking. “In all my time as Protectress, I have never let my base desires dictate my actions.” She looked askance at Maeve. “I have no excuse. I beg your forgiveness, even though I do not deserve it.”

  “Kelia.” Maeve grasped her shoulder and turned her until
they faced each other. “I am as much to blame as you. Don't beat yourself up about it.”

  “Last night you called me 'enlightened,' ” Kelia said, her face pinched into a haunted frown. “That is how I wanted to present myself to you, who have traveled from one end of the Above to the other, who have endured so much and whom I have come to venerate in our brief time together.” She exhaled again. “I'm not feeling particularly 'enlightened' at the moment.”

  Maeve took another cautious step forward, keeping her voice low. “We have a saying back on Earth: you're only human.”

  “I am not human.”

  Maeve felt her eyes moisten. “Yes, you are. In every way that matters, you are. You have strength, so much strength. And you have weakness, just like us.” She cast another glance at the ship. “But that … cannot happen again,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.

  “Agreed.” Kelia knelt down and patted Fex's neck. The chava's leg twitched, but she did not raise her head.

  Maeve returned to the dining table, taking her seat again. Within a few moments, Kelia rejoined her. Still in a state of agitation, Maeve drained the last few drops of grapefruit juice from her cup. “You know, we've spent most of the last day talking, but we've conveniently avoided asking the biggest question of them all.”

  “Which is?”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “You came to Elystra looking for this.” Kelia indicated the Stone in between them, “And now you've found it.”

  “Yes, we have.” An alarming thought struck her. “If I tried to take this away from Elystra, would you … stop me?” Before she could answer, Maeve quickly added, “I mean, this is your world, and I don't want to plunder something that rightfully belongs to you –”

  Kelia held her hand up, cutting Maeve off. “This is a Stone of Arantha. It belongs to her, not me. It's been here for centuries and we never knew. If she had meant for my people to have it, she could have led me or any one of my ancestors to it. But she didn't. She led you. I've never been adept at interpreting her wishes, but in this case, it couldn't be more clear: she wants you to have it. Should you wish to depart with it, I will not stop you.”