by Meagan Hurst
She really had spent too much time around the immortals. And now she was one of them. Not liking her thoughts, Z decided she needed to return to the Rangers and spend some time with them. It probably wouldn’t be bad for Nivaradros to experience—if he chose to come. Knowledge that she needed human interaction hit her like a gale wind. If she drifted away from her humanity she would be at best an immortal; at worst she would be Midestol. Despite what everyone kept telling her, she felt it was a possibility.
“Zimliya?” Shalion called rather suddenly.
At least she still had a mortal attention span. Z glanced at him and grimaced. “Sorry.” She noted they had stopped in a clearing she knew well. “I take it this is where you want to talk?”
“I was rather hopeful,” Shalion replied.
Dismounting from Shanii she let him trot off happily to go do…something. She figured she was better off not knowing. Turning to find Shalion was watching her uneasily, she sighed and crossed her arms. “Alright, Islierri, what are you after?”
“I want you to move my people to Virensa.”
Z stiffened, but knew why Shalion had taken her this far from Arriandie to speak of it. Virensa was one of the Rangers largest cities. While it wasn’t the largest of their cities, it was considered their hidden gem; it was the sole city that had survived the slaughter Tenia had set upon them when the Rangers had been living in the open. Virensa hadn’t been known about at the time, and the Rangers had shielded and warded the city from any and all eyes when the massacre had begun.
And it had remained that way until she had rescued Shalion and needed a place for his Ryelention squad to recover. They had been caught by Midestol’s forces and then Dralation forces before she realized what was going on. Had it just been a small Ryelention squad with no immortal heir in its midst she wouldn’t have become involved. She had mostly stayed out of the immortal scrabbles that had been occurring, but Shalion had been present and she had needed him.
It had taken a lot to get the Ryelentions she had rescued to safety. Exhausted and wounded herself, she had been dealing with resentment for her aid and a general hatred of her existence, but only Shalion had been strong enough to truly challenge her. She recalled the color of his eyes—gold—when he had realized she was coming to aid them. That gold had remained while she had removed them from harm’s way and led them to a safer location. It had faded to pearl when she suggested she needed to rest, and without his approval or permission no one else dared to attack her, since it was clear he was interested in her.
Shalion met her eyes and pulled a small silver chain from a pocket. Spinning it, he pulled the shadows around them to shield them as an image began to form. It was a memory of the past, and Z watched as everything began to form as she remembered it. The Ryelentions had looked terrible when she had run across them. With her limited knowledge of immortals at the time she’d known she needed to be careful. Pulling her attention away from the image she glanced at Shalion.
He was lost in the past as well. She could see it in his gaze; it was focused on the memory he had called forth. Turning her own thoughts back to that night, Z nodded absently to herself and likewise watched the past unfold before them.
“There’s a place we can stay up ahead,” she told Shalion as she stumbled over a tree branch. “It’s safe enough. I need the rest,” she added. She had considered telling him his men needed the rest, but one look at the stone cold faces of the other fourteen Ryelentions had changed her mind. They didn’t want her here. She was fairly certain they didn’t want her alive, but she had helped them, and the Islierri refused to give any of them a signal to harm her. She was safe unless he desired her harm.
Shalion glanced her way. There wasn’t even a trace of kindness in his gaze. “There is no place to rest anywhere nearby, Mortal. The nearest village is at least forty miles behind us and as it is a Dralation village, I have no interest in backtracking to reach it. We are fine.”
“You will lose three—at least—before dawn if we don’t stop, Islierri,” was her reply. “And I am well aware of that village; that is not what I was referring to. There is a place two miles ahead if you will follow me to it.”
A brow rose, but he didn’t question her. “Lead the way, Mortal,” Shalion said after a pause. “I believe you will find you have managed to get yourself lost; there is nothing there.”
“Well if you are blind and don’t know what you are looking for, there is nothing,” she agreed. “But I happen to be neither blind nor unaware of what lies there.”
Having expected to anger him with her response, she was surprised when Shalion laughed. His rich and full laughter caught his men off guard, but none of them changed their strides. “You have quite the courage,” he murmured as he looked her over. “Still not going to tell me your name?”
“You haven’t earned it, Islierri,” she informed him curtly. “And at the rate you’re going, you won’t be earning it anytime soon.”
Eyes still amused, Shalion inclined his head and moved until he was walking almost beside her. Feeling her control fading, Z sighed. “I’m not into contact. If you want my hard work saving your immortal ass to go to waste keep pushing; if you would like to survive the night, back away from me.”
“You saved my immortal ass?” Shalion inquired curiously as he accepted her warning in full and stepped away.
Inwardly cursing herself for forgetting immortals rarely understood mortal sayings, Z began to explain the comment in detail. Her words softened Shalion’s demeanor further and his attentiveness surprised her. Her anger toward him began to fail in light of his obvious delight in her presence. But as it wasn’t…normal, it put her on edge. Seeming to realize she wasn’t going to be as forthcoming as he sought, Shalion questioned her about the area around them; clearly testing her knowledge.
Half of his questions she answered with silence—not because she didn’t know the answer, but because she didn’t feel like letting him know the full extent of her knowledge. To her surprise, Shalion accepted her rather abrupt refusals to answer and merely pestered her with questions until she once again spoke. Z had kept her senses up and sweeping the area around them, but she also kept a close watch on Shalion’s men; they wanted her dead.
Eventually she paused on the outer edge of what looked like a rather unimpressive meadow that was making its way steadily to a desert. Closing her eyes, she smiled bitterly at the brushes against her mind that came from her amulet; they knew she was nearby, and her fellow Rangers wanted to know if she was coming to visit.
“Why are we stopping? Is the Mortal too weak to continue?”
“The Mortal,” she answered as she opened her eyes, “has found a place to eat—for those that are hungry—and rest—for those who are not so foolish as to refuse what they require.” Turning to Shalion, she offered him a mocking bow. “May I present the Ranger kingdom of Virensa?”
Laughter rang out around her. “Islierri, you have not just managed to find a mortal, but an insane one!”
“There are no more Rangers,” someone else had added; Illserin’s voice had been full of scorn, but Z raised a brow at his words.
“Really? How odd that you believe they do not exist when I stand before you.” Her amusement had grown as Shalion watched her without changing his expression, yet she sensed his curiosity. Pulling out her amulet she let it lie in plain view for them to see. “I have been a Ranger for six years—and counting.”
“And where is this Virensa?” Shalion inquired as he offered her a small smile. His eyes were still pearl, and she could see he believed her to a point. He was a strange immortal.
“Since the Rangers were being hunted down and slaughtered, did you really think we would just leave it out in the open for any being to find?” she demanded to know as she let the shields and wards down around them; watching the Ryelention’s features as the illusions, misdirecting spells, sound shields, scent disbursing spells, wards to keep magic from reacting to everything in place to keep the city h
idden, and wards to keep anyone from sensing anything about the area. There were close to two thousand different spells—and several repeating ones—that kept the city hidden, and at a Ranger’s true command the city would appear, but only for those the Ranger wanted to see what was normally undetectable.
“Welcome to Virensa,” she told them all as she stifled her amusement. Turning, she began to walk calmly towards the twenty foot high steel wall that encircled the city.
Shalion fell in step beside her, but he kept his distance enough she could accept his presence. “You live here?”
“No,” was her icy answer. Shalion recoiled, and she was surprised at how much she felt him flinch at her words. Relenting, feel guilty over her anger, she sighed. “I have a house here, but humans have a saying ‘home is where the heart is’ I have a house, but this place is not my home.”
“May I ask where you do call home?”
“You already asked, but I have no answer for you regardless. I don’t have a home.” She tensed as a single arrow flew at her heart. Catching in mere inches from striking, she let out a whistle and heard it returned. “We might as well get this over with,” she muttered.
“You seem decidedly unhappy to be here,” Shalion noted.
“If you pay attention, I am sure you will notice I don’t really get along all that well with anyone—even my own race. There are even a few debates about whether or not I even have a heart.”
“Here?”
“No. Not here. Not in any Ranger community. Those discussions exist in other kingdoms.”
“How many Rangers are there?”
She ignored him—in part because there was a group of about two hundred of her people approaching them. “Steady,” she snapped at the Ryelentions as they began to shift into a battle stance. “They are not here to fight. Yet,” she amended softly.
“Z?” someone called out.
She stepped away from the immortals even more, but answered only by drawing her sword. For a minute nothing happened, but several Rangers drew theirs in response when she didn’t speak.
“You brought them here?”
“It was entirely my decision,” she snarled at the Ranger. She didn’t bother to recall his name. “We require rest, food, and possible aid by someone knowledgeable in the care of wounds.”
“For you?”
“I will cut off their hands if they attempt to touch me,” she declared. Straightening, she glared at the speaker before taking a gamble. “I vouch for them—all of them. If you wish to contest me over this you are welcome to meet me in battle.”
Shalion’s sharp inhalation caught her attention, but she didn’t glance away from the Rangers. “It is my right to bring visitors to any of our cities.”
“It is our right to contest any guests. They appear to be Ryelentions; we have no desire to aid them.”
“You are welcome to fight me for their right to stay. I vouch for them. I take full responsibility for their actions; any harm they cause I will pay for, even if it is in blood.”
Silence from the Rangers who had come out to meet them was met with equal silence from her. In the end, the Rangers relented. “Welcome, then, to Virensa. I certainly hope Z’s trust in you is not misplaced. If you harm anyone, she is not the only one who will pay.”
The Rangers turned and left. Z watched their departure before slowly sheathing her sword. “Come on,” she told the immortals she had just protected. “You’ve been granted passage.”
“Is that what that was?” Shalion’s tone was distrustful.
“No blades were crossed. Despite the sharp words exchanged, I was uncontested. We have permission to be here although, as you undoubtedly have discerned, they are not pleased I brought guests. Rangers are mortal, yes, but we remember the failure of your race to come to our aid—the one time we asked for aid. The Rangers hold a grudge—as do I. However, unlike the rest of them, I am unwilling to remain behind spells because we were betrayed. I foresee a time when Rangers again venture openly, and I would like to have already established contact with the races of the world.”
Pearl eyes shifted slightly, but she couldn’t quite figure out just what the color was changing to. “You were right; you don’t get along with your own race.” He hesitated before gesturing. “Lead on.”
She walked off far more confidently than she felt. She had houses in many different Ranger communities but, as she had told Shalion, not a single one of them had the feeling of home. Her residence here had been lived in scant weeks before she had left and continued her wandering—and learning. She could only hope the presence of the Ryelentions wouldn’t make things worse.
As they cleared the gates, Rangers stood waiting to welcome her. The hostility Z and her guests had been greeted with was all but gone—at least the hostility directed at her—and she found herself ambushed with questions instead. The Ryelentions were pretty well ignored until Z finally pulled back from her people.
“This is the Islierri, Shalion,” she told the Rangers softly. Hundreds of cold eyes went to the immortal heir. “I’d appreciate it if we could manage to offer him and his people a semblance of hospitality.”
“They can stay in your dwelling,” a familiar, icy voice answered.
Z turned to face Kitra and held the gaze of her mentor without wavering. “I have plenty of room,” she agreed. “But I do not have the means to offer them food and aid. Islierri, may I introduce you to Kitra le Tribarn?”
Kitra crossed her arms, but let her gaze move to Shalion’s despite the fact she didn’t formally acknowledge him. Then again, he didn’t acknowledge her, so perhaps things weren’t as bad as they could have been.
“And why should we help you?” Kitra asked.
Shalion glanced at Z of all people. “Because for some reason your…Z, is it? Seems to be willing to offer us help we didn’t ask for. Yet,” he said as his voice softened and he glanced at Kitra, “it was aid we needed. She is strange for a mortal.”
“She is very strange for a human,” Kitra agreed. She kept her arms crossed, but her stance relaxed. “She doesn’t actually like crowds of any shape and the fact she brought you here is…surprising. I happened to be in the area as well and given all the…chaos your visit brought, I thought I should stop in.” Kitra tapped a foot. “Alright, Z, we’ll feed them at my house. Follow.”
Z let the Ryelentions take the lead this time—hanging back. Shalion stayed with her. “You need to eat,” he advised—despite the fact they were still walking close enough to his people to be heard.
“I’m not hungry.”
Ryelention eyes shifted to orange. “You are that badly wounded?”
“No…I don’t have much of an appetite. Ask Kitra.”
Shalion glanced towards the woman leading them, but didn’t leave her side. “It appears I am indebted to a human,” he observed. “What may I offer you in exchange?”
“Nothing. You’ve put up with my mortal presence for hours without killing me; we’re even.”
“We are not. We wouldn’t have survived—I wouldn’t have survived—without your aid.”
Z glared at him, but didn’t argue the point. “I go by Z,” she muttered after a few minutes, “but it is the shortened form of my name; Zimliya.”
Shalion’s eyes shaded back to pearl. “There is nothing wrong with that name…?” He didn’t sound certain of his words, but he did manage to say them. “Why don’t you use it?”
“It doesn’t suit me.”
“Oh?”
“Zimliya means fire…well there is actually quite a bit more to it than that, but I refuse to go into detail.” She stared straight ahead at the backs of the Ryelentions and sighed. “It’s not the name I was given at birth—and no, before you ask, I don’t know what that one is—and I don’t feel like I do justice to the name that was provided to me when I came to the Rangers.”
Shalion chuckled. It wasn’t, however, unkind. “You are strange,” he murmured. “But even as simply translated as you offered me
, I have a feeling you more than fit your name. I know very, very few humans who would have come to our aid, fewer who would have survived it.”
“We’re fragile.”
“And none who would be as…harsh on their own race. It’s nice to meet you, Zimliya—Z,” he corrected as she grimaced. “I’d like the chance to learn more about the Rangers. As I feel that will only occur with your presence, if I have to force feed you I will.”
“If you attempt to force feed me, Islierri, I will remove your hands.”
Shalion stopped the recollection and raised a brow at her. “Always violent,” he teased. His expression sobered. “Zimliya…please,” he pleaded in a tone she had never heard him use—and never wanted to hear from him again.
She thought back on everything that had happened in Virensa. Shalion’s determination to make a solid impression on the Rangers. The uneasy comradeship that had started. Virensa would be hard to reach, but it could keep the Ryelentions safe, and if Shalion could get them to go there…
“I will speak with the Rangers,” she agreed.
Chapter 24
Shalion nodded, but he spun the chain again, and though Z was in conversation with the Rangers, she nevertheless got caught up in the past again. Shalion maneuvered the chain to skip the argument she’d had with Kitra and the awkward dinner scene that had started, but when the image solidified Z recognized where it was.
She picked at her food while the Ryelentions ate in silence. Kitra had vanished once the Ryelentions had been served, but she continued to check in with Z through the amulet. Z was struggling to remain in a room with the immortals—feeling her mortal blood all too strongly. She was, however, host to the Ryelentions. She couldn’t leave until they were done. Shalion’s eye constantly fell upon her, and Z made the effort to avoid meeting his gaze.
Eventually, the meal did come to an end. And if Kitra’s house was typical, Z’s house was not. Leading them from the house built on flat ground, she took the Ryelentions to one of the largest trees in the city, although a hundred others also bore houses in their branches. A ladder appeared as they approached, but Z took the more difficult way up of climbing branches. She still managed to beat the Ryelentions. “Welcome to my residence. Pick a room—there should be plenty.”