Breaking the Suun

by J. A. Culican

  “No!” I heard Savarah shout.

  I twisted and managed to grab the tusker’s thin tail with one hand, swinging to a stop a few yards above the battle on the ground. Other priests had emerged from the temple and joined the fight against the ur’gels, as had a few more trehands. One of them reached a branch up and plucked me from where I hung, wooden fingers wrapping around my waist and lowering me to the ground beside Ravyn, who stood behind it.

  She looked sideways at me, and down at the ax dripping black blood. Her own blade was coated in the same substance, and when she brushed her long, dark hair back from her face, she left a streak of it across her cheek. “We have to stop the tusker.”

  The ur’gels on the tusker’s back were still driving it forward. The temple tree was leaning perilously, its branches trembling under the strain.

  I pressed a hand to my throbbing face. “How?”

  Savarah’s voice was the one that answered. She was leaning over the back of the tusker. “Surrender yourself and I’ll spare your temple.”

  I didn’t believe her. “What else do you have?” I asked Ravyn.

  She motioned me forward and I followed, running alongside the tusker’s legs and toward the tree. We passed Erik, who speared an ur’gel on the end of his sword, and Estrid, protecting his back from an onslaught of smaller, winged ur’gels. When Ravyn beckoned them, they came after us.

  As we neared the front, we ducked to the side to avoid the grooves the tusker had dug in the earth and stood in a half ring, shoulder-to-shoulder at the base of the tree. We were close to the tusker, but it didn’t pay us any attention, as small as we were. Its head pressed against the tree, and its long, armored trunk hung just in front of us. Behind us, the tree trunk began to splinter.

  An ur’gel ran at us, and I sliced through its neck with one swing of the ax. It fell at our feet.

  I wiped the ax on the grass. “What now?”

  “Protect me.” Ravyn sheathed her sword and held her hands out in front of her. “Whatever you do, don’t let them get through to me.”

  “Wait, what?”

  But she was already gone. That was the only way to describe it. Her hands were on the curve of the tusker’s trunk, but her eyes were somewhere else. As if she had become someone—or something—else.

  Just as I thought it, the tusker stopped its assault on the temple. It jerked backward, rearing briefly on two feet and landing with a thud. Several ur’gels toppled from its back not far from us. Before my siblings could run forward to dispatch them, the tusker lifted one of its massive front feet and brought it down on top of the fallen ur’gels, crushing them. The beast reared again and more ur’gels fell, screaming.

  I watched for a flash of golden curls, waited for Savarah to fall, but she never appeared. The ones that did fall were squashed beneath the tusker’s feet or swept away with its trunk. The tusker was noticeably careful not to knock over any trees but had absolutely no consideration for the ur’gels. It scooped up one in its trunk and bashed it against the ground until it hung limp, then flung it aside.

  It was terrifying to watch, and obviously unnatural. Ravyn herself had told me tuskers weren’t inherently dangerous or violent, but this either proved her wrong, or proved the extent of her magic.

  This was all it took for the ur’gels who were left standing to flee. They left the bodies of their comrades broken and bloody on the forest floor and disappeared into the foliage.

  “Where’s Savarah?” I asked no one in particular. “Did anyone see her?”

  Erik pointed up and I watched as the winged ur’gel I had wounded leapt from the tusker’s back, Savarah in his arms. While the tusker was occupied with another group of ur’gels, this one swooped down to hover a few yards above us. I wished for Arun and his bow then, but he was squirreled away somewhere with Eoghan, hopefully recovering.

  “This isn’t the end of this,” Savarah shouted down to me. “I’ll be back. Dag’draath will be very interested to know of your existence.”

  “Dag’draath is locked away in an eternal prison,” I countered.

  “He will be freed. And if you won’t help me free him, then I’ll make sure you can’t help keep him imprisoned either.”

  The tusker turned on her then, but the ur’gel was too fast for its swinging trunk. It followed them from the ground, though, crashing through the undergrowth. When it had disappeared from sight, Ravyn collapsed against me, her work done, her temple safe.

  But as the other priests collected her and we followed her inside, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed Savarah had, once again, gotten away. This wasn’t fun anymore, and it was time to get some answers.

  Chapter 18

  Ravyn slept the rest of the day, and I kept watch by her bedside. I told myself it was because I needed to talk to her, and not because Arun occupied the next bed over. He also slept, both of them still as corpses. Every now and then, I’d put my hand on Arun’s chest to be sure he was still breathing. He was, and the amulet was gone from around his neck. Destroyed, I hoped, along with the darkness inside of him.

  The room had grown dark when Erik entered, carrying a steaming bowl. “Dinner?”

  I shrugged, taking the bowl from him. It contained a thin broth with chunks of vegetables floating in it. I sipped it, watching him go from bed to bed.

  “How are they?”

  “Alive,” I answered.

  He sat on a small, wooden stool and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Can you believe what happened today?”

  “Which part?” I sipped steadily at the soup. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I’d been. Fighting had a way of working up my appetite.

  “All of it, I guess.”

  If there was anything I knew about my brother, it was he did not like the unknown. He did not like not knowing something. So, I could see how this place and everything that had happened since our arrival had been a nightmare for him.

  I pushed myself to my feet and deposited the empty bowl on a table beside Arun’s bed. “I’ve gotten pretty good at believing the unbelievable lately.”

  Not long after Erik left, leaving me a torchlight to hang by the door, Arun stirred. He looked pale and gaunt in the light of the fire, but when he opened his eyes, they were no longer black orbs. It was a relief to look into his green eyes again, to see the spark of life behind them.

  His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “What happened?”

  I passed him a glass of water. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  He thought about it as he sipped at the drink. “Sitting down to dinner. We were … inside a tree.”

  “Still are.” I gestured to the room around us, and then sat on the edge of his bed. “You attacked me at dinner. The priest threw you into the Lake of Light to cure you. While you slept it off, we beat back an ur’gel attack. And now, here we are.”

  “Never a dull moment with you around, is there?” He shook his head. Then his hand went to his throat.

  “It’s gone,” I told him. “The amulet.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “I don’t know. But you seem to be doing okay without it.”

  His hand fumbled for something in the bed and then closed around my fingers. The relief at feeling his warm skin again was enough to make me not pull away.

  “Do you feel different?” I asked, wondering how the Lake of Light might have changed him. If it had burned out any part of what made him who he was.

  He closed his eyes and his voice was quieter when he said, “I feel lighter.”

  He drifted back to sleep, his hand still wrapped around mine.

  I must have dozed off also, my head on the edge of Arun’s bed, because I jerked awake some time later to the light of the white moon shining through the window. It lit Ravyn’s pale face and showed me her eyes were open.

  I moved away from Arun and went to stand beside her. “How do you feel?”

  “Fine.” She flexed her fingers and studied them in the moonlight. “Som
etimes I worry that I won’t come back.”

  “So, it was you, then, inside the tusker?” I’d thought as much, but it was a strange concept to grasp.

  “Yes, it was.” She pushed herself to sitting and flung the blanket off her legs.

  I sat down on the edge of her bed before she could stand. “We need to talk.”

  She paused, looking at me warily. Her eyes flicked to Arun on the other bed. “How is he?”

  “Not about him,” I countered. “But he seems to be fine, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to the light,” she corrected me.

  I shifted on the bed and then caught her eyes with mine. “Ravyn, I need to know what’s going on. I need to know what you know about me, and about this.” I touched the star on the side of my face.

  Ravyn sighed, clearly having expected this line of questioning. “I’ll tell you what I can. First thing’s first: I know for a certainty that you are not the Suun heir.”

  It took every ounce of my self-control not to jump for joy there in the middle of the infirmary. I’d known it, of course, but finally having someone confirm it? Well, maybe now things could get back to normal.

  There was still more, though. “Why do I have his mark, then?”

  “When Onen Suun made the great sacrifice that ended the Dark War and imprisoned Dag’draath, a priest received a prophecy that has been passed down through the order of the Sisters of Light over the generations.”

  “So, you are the Sisters of Light, then? As Lunla told us?”

  Ravyn nodded, and then continued. “It was foretold that the Suun line would continue, and that there would be born an heir with the mark of Suun. This heir would bring an end to Dag’draath’s imprisonment and would usher forth the next era of the fight between the light and the dark.”

  “That wasn't what Beru said.” On the contrary, he seemed to think the Suun heir would be the one to stop the war.

  She held up a finger before I could go too far down that path, though. “But the heir would also have the power to keep Dag’draath in his prison.”

  “So, she has a choice.”

  Ravyn smiled secretly. “There’s always a choice, isn’t there?”

  “Who is the heir, then? Why aren't they here, fighting this fight? Why has it fallen to me?”

  “She was born two decades ago, just after I’d been inducted into the Sisters of Light. The mother brought the babe to us in a panic. I cannot describe to you what it was like to look down on that child and know I was looking into the eyes of the Suun heir. Of the one who would either bring us into the light or doom us to eternal darkness.” Ravyn touched the mark beside my eye, her fingers cold as ice. “That was how I knew, from the moment I first saw you, that you were not that same babe.”

  “What became of her?” I needed to find her if I wanted to prove to everyone I was not the heir.

  Ravyn put both of her feet on the floor and stared straight ahead at where Arun lay, but I did not think she was seeing him. “She lived with us for a time, but we quickly learned that it would be too dangerous for her to carry both the mark and the burden of being the heir. She would always be a target for those wishing to thwart the prophecy. So my sisters devised a plan.

  “There was another child born on the same day in a faraway corner of the world. A child of warriors, who would grow up to become one herself. We would transfer the mark onto this child and leave her to make her own way in the world. Every day would be a fight for survival, but who was more equipped for that life than a D’ahvol?”

  I stood and grabbed my stomach, suddenly afraid that I would be sick.

  Ravyn put a hand on my arm so I couldn't run away. “You wanted the truth. I will give it to you. But sometimes the truth is worse than the lie.”

  “What happened to my mother?”

  “It should have been an easy task, to sneak in and perform the transfer and leave without anyone ever knowing. But you made a sound, barely louder than a bird’s chirp. Your mother woke.”

  I shook Ravyn’s hand off my arm and pressed my back was against the rough wood of a wall. I sank down on my haunches, refusing to look at the priest as she kept talking.

  In my mind’s eye, I was back at our home in Bor’sur. My mother would have fallen asleep beside the hearth, with me bundled in furs at her side, lulled by the crackling flames. Father would have been in his room, while Erik and Estrid slept in the loft overhead. I could hear the tinkle of snow on the roof, the whistle of wind through the eaves. And there, the crunch of snow beneath a foot. The creak of an opening door. Hands lifting me from the cradle, spiriting me outside. My mother waking, finding me outside with the priest.

  “Your mother fought bravely, but she was no match for the light.”

  “For a sword, you mean.” I wrapped my arms around myself, my mind reeling. “Not only did you mark me as a target for all the evil in the world, but you left me without a mother to guide me through it.”

  “We could not be discovered. It was to protect the heir.”

  “And what about me? I’m just the bait?”

  “More like the distraction.”

  I scoffed. “You don’t see anything wrong with this?”

  She pressed her lips together and for the first time, I thought maybe I saw doubt on her features. “It was a choice we had to make, and every choice has consequences. None of them are easy.”

  I pushed myself to standing, grief giving way to anger. “You won’t tell me where she is, will you?”

  Ravyn stood too, smoothing down her smock dress. “I can’t, because I don’t know. After the transfer, she was taken away and put under the protection of four of my sisters. Only they know where she is.” She started toward the door.

  I took a few steps forward, stopping beside Arun’s bed and watching her leave. “For now,” I said.

  She stopped and glanced back at me. “What?”

  “Only they know where she is for now. But you can be sure that I will find her. Your sisters made a big mistake, putting my whole family at risk. I will find her, and I will expose her.”

  The priest smiled. Even without her sword, it was a frightening look. “If I thought there was any chance you could actually do that, I would kill you now.”

  But I wasn’t afraid. I smiled back at her. “You could try.”

  They’d picked me because I was a warrior, but they hadn’t counted on what that meant when I learned the truth. They hadn’t counted on the lengths I would go to, to protect the loved ones I had left.

  Ravyn left without another word, the only sounds in the room my heavy breathing as I fought back angry tears. Fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed, drawing me out of my panic.

  Surprised, I looked down to see Arun watching me. “Heard that, did you?”

  “A bit.”

  I took my place beside him again. “What do I do now?”

  “The way I see it,” he said, “they saved the heir so that when the time came, she could save us all. We just have to convince Ravyn that this is that time. That we need her, not because we want to throw her to Dag’draath, but because we want to fulfill the prophecy.”

  “I might have ruined any chance we have at that already.”

  Arun laughed, and it was a delightful sound I hadn’t realized I was missing until now. “I heard. Maybe let me do the talking next time.”

  “I don’t know if I can agree to that.”

  He smirked, and then tugged on my hand. “Come here.”

  When he drew me down beside him on the bed, I surprised myself by not fighting it. Instead, I lay on my side facing away from him and he wrapped an arm over me, pulling me close and curling around me. It felt … nice. More vulnerable than I would have liked, but still nice.

  His voice was a low whisper in my ear. “I’m sorry about your mother, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

  It was easier to talk without looking at him, so I kept my face turned away and willed the tears not to fall. “I always thought she was out
there somewhere. That I would see her again. But now I can’t decide if it was better not to know. If it’s relief or sadness I feel at knowing I can stop looking for her in every crowd we encounter.”

  “I still look for Ashryn.”

  His sister, I remembered, the one who’d died. “Do you ever see her?”

  He was quiet for a moment before answering. “Everywhere. Bits and pieces of her in everyone.”

  We fell silent then, and I focused on the feel of his chest rising and falling against my back, on his breath tickling my ear. Eventually, the torchlight flickered out, but neither of us moved until finally, we both fell asleep. For the first time in a long time, I slept through the night.

  Chapter 19

  When I woke the next morning, I was alone in the infirmary bed. Arun’s side of the bed was cold, and I had a brief moment of panic wondering if any of it had been real. Then the door open and Arun strode in, looking good as new.

  “Good morning,” he said, kicking the door closed behind him. He had a bundle of clothes in his arms. “The priests thought you might like a change of clothes.”

  I looked down at myself, still speckled with black ur’gel blood. A bath would have been nice, but a change of clothes would do for now. I held up one of the items he dropped on the foot of the bed. “This is a skirt.”

  He looked over at it. “A dress, actually.”

  “I don’t wear skirts. Or dresses.” They were not suitable for fighting. Or running. Or doing much of anything.

  “It might look nice.”

  Even more reason not to wear it. I didn’t need him thinking I looked nice, not after last night. Actually, I didn’t know why I cared what he thought at all. I shouldn’t. I definitely shouldn’t.

  But I did.

  No, I didn’t.

  In the light of morning, everything seemed a lot more complicated. I could scarcely believe I had let him hold me and comfort me last night. That he had seen me like that.

  Onen save me.

  “Get out,” I ordered, not wanting to think about it—him—anymore. “So I can change.”