“Captain Traeger.” Beren inclined his head. “Report.”
“We have them contained on all sides, my prince, but they have hostages. With Sentinels in such short supply, we have none who speak their language. Do you wish to bargain? Or cut them down?”
“Have they made to cross the border?”
“Not once, but they’ve also made no move to release their hostages. Gnarls are hardy fighters, but if they were here to fight, they’d have started something by now. They want something else.”
Beren stroked his thick gray beard. “Your soldiers are in place?”
“Give the word and these gnarls die, my prince.”
Ona stepped Chesa forward. “Send me. I speak a bit of their language.” Her memories of a life lived with Xander in a cabin in the woods had been returning, in pieces, over the past few days. “I think I can bargain with them.”
Traeger frowned. “Begging your pardon, miss, but just who are you to make that kind of boast?”
Beren narrowed his eyes at his captain. “You address the mother of the royal apprentice.”
Traeger grimaced and bowed his head. “I did not recognize her without the robes.” He looked up, eyes soft and brown. He wasn’t a bad looking man. “Forgive me, my lady.”
Ona raised an eyebrow at him. This “my lady” nonsense was interesting. “Nothing to forgive. Your skill and dedication has found my daughter.”
“So, Ona.” Beren leaned in. “How will you approach them?”
“Why, with palms open and hands unarmed.” When Beren opened his mouth, Ona continued before he could interrupt. “Gnarls have honor of a sort. As long as I don’t try to glyph at them, they won’t attack an unarmed woman.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“Certain enough.”
Ona remembered how she spent months studying with Xander, learning about the life he had led as an exiled Glyphbinder. He had taught her bits of the ancient language as spoken by gnarls. He had taught her their customs and fears.
Her husband had hidden nothing from her, or so she had always believed. He had never told her he scribed a glyph to keep her from getting pregnant. She didn’t know if she could forgive him for that.
Beren snorted. “I’ll not stand between a mother and her daughter.” He nodded to his men. “You have but to shout the order and stay alive. Our spears will make short work of these.”
Ona dropped from the saddle and winced. One of Beren’s Bloodmenders had spent three days restoring her leg, bit by bit, and it still tingled something fierce. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Shouldn’t we at least give them a chance to surrender?”
A nearby legionnaire chuckled. Ona liked them already. Spreading her empty palms wide, she walked to the line of Mynt surrounding the gnarls. Her stomach roiled and her heart pounded as she smiled at the tribe of beastmen.
Beren’s line parted when she reached them, legionnaires stepping aside and inclining their heads. The woman on the left spoke first. “We have your back, my lady.”
There it was again. Ona frowned as the gnarls beyond offered warning snarls. None, however, drew arms. She stepped beyond the legionnaire line, careful not to step into the Unsettled Lands, and struggled to remember the ancient language. They still spoke it.
“Concora.” It meant peace. She struggled until she remembered another word. “Satar?” That meant trade.
One red gnarl stepped from the crowd. These were Firemakers, fur dyed red in worship to Heat. The gnarl spoke to her in a guttural dialect she could barely understand, but she caught bits and pieces. Leader. Quest. Charges. And one last word. Safe.
“You’re worried the legionnaires will slaughter you when you release your captives.” Ona turned to those behind her. “My prince! Have your legionnaires lower their spears and step back from the border! The gnarls will bargain, but they fear for their safety!”
None moved until Beren repeated her orders. Reluctantly, the entire line of legionnaires stepped back, long shields raised and spears bucking as armor clanked. Firebrands unscribed glyphs. Archers lowered bows.
Ona turned back to the gnarls. “Satar?”
The one who had spoken turned to its fellows and shouted a number of strange words. The red forms parted, and Ona could finally make out five distant figures huddled together in their ranks. Human figures. One stood and waved.
“Mom!” Kara’s voice was scarcely audible across the distance. “You found us!”
The gnarls parted, clearing a path between Ona and their captives, and they moved forward at a rapid pace. Ona felt tears welling up as she stared at her daughter. So strong. Still alive.
Kara’s friends had saved her. Xander had saved her, and she almost couldn’t wait to see her husband again. They had so much history to recover, years stolen away by Melyssa.
What few memories had returned in the past few days assured Ona she had loved Xander very much, and that was enough to make her heart ache with his absence. They deserved to be together. Kara deserved a real family.
When the Gnarl’s captives were close enough, Ona counted and identified them all. Trell walked right beside Kara, still protecting her, and Sera and Byn were behind them. Yet Aryn led the procession, his blistered skin plainly visible to all.
Where was Melyssa? Where was Xander?
Aryn walked like a noble, not a charred corpse. The gnarls bowed low as he passed, heads down. Were they worshipping him? One of the legionnaires behind her muttered.
“It’s a thrice-damned demon.”
Ona frowned and turned on him. “That’s no demon. That’s a good man, and he’s a friend. They all are.”
The legionnaire shrugged in his armor. “As you say, my lady.”
She had no sooner turned back before Kara reached her and dragged her into a tight hug. Ona cried out as agony split her calves, but it was welcome agony. She laughed. “Careful!”
“Mom,” Kara whispered. “I know how to fix you.”
Ona hugged her close, savoring the feeling of having her child back. “That’s wonderful, honey. But you might not want to sob like that in front of all Prince Beren’s legionnaires.”
“Mrs. Tanner.” Byn inclined his head when he reached them. “Busy week?” His legs trembled.
“I found help,” Ona said. “And now I have to ask. Why gnarls?”
“They like me,” Aryn said. “Something about my charming black grin.” He faced the gnarls and spoke in the ancient language.
Ona listened close. She recognized the word “Homes”. Guide. Heat. And one last word. God. The gnarls must believe Aryn was an avatar of Heat. That was not something for anyone to be playing at.
The gnarls bowed their heads and chanted as they retreated. “Concora, Fari val Luma.” Then they dispersed. Ona heard legionnaires grumbling, but no one went after them. No one wanted to step into the Unsettled Lands and explode.
“Come on.” Ona squeezed her daughter once before pushing her away. “It’s time to meet Prince Beren.”
“Not yet.” Kara looked to Byn and Sera. “I’m not waiting any longer. We’re doing this now.”
Sera nodded. “Ready when you are.”
Ona watched as Byn, Sera, and Kara all scribed strange new blood glyphs on the air. She didn’t understand them. Xander had never been able to teach her, as much as he tried.
Those blood glyphs flashed white, and Ona’s vision flashed white with them. The pain of a thousand needles cut through her body. She gasped. She did not scream.
When her vision cleared, her body felt as well as if she had just emerged from a warm bath. Every last bit of her agonizing pain had vanished. She could not remember the last day she’d lived without pain. She took a deep breath and choked back a sob.
“Mom?” Kara shouted. “Mom!”
Ona blinked her eyes and realized she was on her back. She sat up. She clutched her daughter’s arms and smiled, sniffled.
“You did it, honey.”
Ona had never been more proud.
KARA NEVER WANTED to stop hugging her mother, not now that she was going to live again, but legionnaires still surrounded them and Prince Beren might be the impatient sort. Plenty of time for hugs later. In fact ... now they had all the time in the world.
“Here, Mom.” Kara helped her mother stand. “I suppose you’d best introduce me.” She looked to her friends. “Just give me a moment to wrap things up.”
She walked to Sera and leaned close. “Stay here. Don’t say anything about the curse. No one can know, understand?”
“I do,” Sera whispered back. “Be careful.”
Kara squeezed her arm. “Love you.”
Sera managed a smile, and Kara knew a smile was rare on her these days. “Love you too.”
Kara turned to Trell next and took his hands. She saw his cheeks color and decided not to worry about that. This man would walk into the Underside to save her, but he had just lost his wife. She gave him a peck on the cheek and left it at that.
“All right.” She turned to her mother. “Let’s go.”
Ona took the lead, taking each step gingerly, as if afraid her pain would return. Kara kept a firm grip on her arms.
“How did you fix me?” Ona whispered.
“Dad helped,” Kara said as they walked. “I learned what I needed at Terras, but I didn’t know how to work it into a glyph. We worked on it together. It took two days, but we figured it out.”
“I suppose that was a long walk.”
“It wasn’t so bad. We got to know each other.”
“And how’d that go?”
“Better than you’d expect.” Kara smiled. She had a father now, a real one, and it was anything but awkward. “Honestly, Mom ... he turned out to be a lot like me.”
Ona squeezed her hand. “I’m so very surprised.”
“He remembers everything about the two of you. He misses you terribly. I think losing us is why he’s so bristly all the time. He keeps his distance because he got hurt.”
“That’s a good way to think about it.”
“I’m serious. He even came to Solyr to watch me graduate. He chose not to reveal himself because he wanted me to be happy.”
“Did he tell you why he never came back to me?” There was an edge to Ona’s voice.
Kara grimaced. Now for the hard part. “He never came back because he’s a wanted man in Mynt.”
“What?” Ona’s eyes went wide.
“He didn’t want to drag you into that life. He was afraid he would get you hurt, that those who hunt him would find you and use you against him.” Kara shuddered as she remembered Cantrall.
Ona looked forward. She was frowning now. Kara knew her mother didn’t like to be worried about by anyone.
“Anyway,” Kara continued, “he knows things about glyph magic that never occurred to me. Once I learned what was wrong with you, we worked on it together. We figured out how to fix it.”
“Well. I’m glad you talked.”
“There’s one other thing.” Kara reached into the pocket of her ruined shirt. “Dad gave me two letters. This one’s for you.”
Ona tucked the letter into the pocket of her woolen dress. She didn’t open it. “Just so you’re aware, I’ve told the prince quite a bit about what happened in Highridge Pass.”
“I see.” Kara’s steps faltered. “Have you told him about my great-grandfather?” Melyssa had assured her that was a very bad idea.
“I may have left out a few choice bits. Your true heritage, and something or other about the Five Who Made the World.”
Kara squeezed her mother’s arm. The less people who knew about what had happened at Terras, the less likely anyone would try it again.
Prince Beren dropped off his horse when they approached, a gesture of respect that both surprised and relieved Kara. He waited as they walked, hands clasped behind his back.
“Kara Tanner. Your mother has told me much about you. It’s a right fine tale.”
“It’s all true.” Ona wrapped an arm around Kara’s shoulders. “You have my word as well as hers.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt you, or Solyr. But I wonder why one of your talents waited twelve years to journey to Tarna.” Beren fixed her with a rough grin. “We’d have taken you on at age six.”
Kara bowed as she had practiced. “I’m honored.” She prayed her knees weren’t shaking, but she was too nervous to be sure. After facing down the king of the Underside, this should have been easier.
“We’ll see soon enough who’s honoring whom. Now, tell me what happened at Terras.”
Kara told him everything — at least, everything she could without revealing the involvement of the Five Who Had Made the World. She related how Melyssa Honuron had led her and her friends to Terras on the trail of a renegade Soulmage, caught him as he tried to reopen the gates, and killed him before he could do so. Melyssa had allowed them to travel through the Unsettled Lands without being killed. Some key details were missing.
“And Melyssa Honuron,” Beren said. “She did not return?”
“There were matters at Terras she had to resolve. I don’t know if she will return, my prince, but I hope to see her again. Some day.”
“We encountered the army Ona warned us about on the road. We’ve killed many of them, and I have soldiers sweeping the Martial Steppes for more. Rest assured they will slaughter no more villages.”
“What about the Tellvan? Are we still at war?”
“We’ve sent peace envoys to the Seven Sheiks. They’ll carry news of what happened at Taven’s Hamlet. It won’t convince the sheiks entirely, not without proof, but it may halt their assaults. You and your friends, Kara, may have to testify regarding what you’ve seen.”
“We’ll do all we can. Sera ... the Bloodmender who traveled with me from Solyr ... has clear memories of our enemies admitting they planned to start a war. If nothing else, that’s something.”
“It certainly is.” Beren placed a hand on her shoulder and Kara froze. What was he thinking? He was a prince!
“Your bravery is quite uncommon, and I know your journey hasn’t been without loss. You have my sympathies.
Kara had never imagined a prince of Mynt could feel sympathy for her, but then again, it really wasn’t just her. It was everyone else. Even those who hadn’t died on this journey had their lives upended forever. She didn’t deserve their sacrifice, but she refused to waste it.
She remembered Elder Halde, screaming as he burned. She remembered Jair, choking on the ground of Terras. Aryn, Byn, and Sera would never be the same. Those she loved had sacrificed far too much. She would make her life worth it.
Kara lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Thank me when we’re in court. They like that sort of thing.” He released her shoulder and turned to his subordinate. “Captain Traeger!”
“Yes, my prince?”
“Act as witness to my next decree.” He turned to Kara once more. “Kneel, apprentice of Solyr.”
Kara blinked at him. She knelt.
“You and those under your command have risked your lives to save our province from its enemies. You have proven your worth and loyalty repeatedly. On behalf of the crown of Tarna and of King Haven, I accept Solyr’s nomination to the post of royal apprentice.”
Kara felt like she was dreaming. She wondered if she was.
“Rise, Apprentice Kara of Tarna.”
Kara did so. As one, the legionnaires gathered around them drew their swords and fell to one knee. They placed their sword tips on the ground and bowed their heads.
“Welcome to the royal court.” Beren grinned at her.
Kara took her mother’s hand and squeezed. With friends at her side and a path before her, she saw no challenge in Tarna she could not overcome. She would stop the coming war, lift Sera’s curse, and become the best mage in all of Tarna’s history.
She couldn’t be satisfied with anything less.
THE END
Acknowledgements
While writing is
a solitary pursuit, authors receive support from many people. I’d like to thank a few of those people here.
To my amazing wife, Vanessa — you complement me in every way possible. We couldn’t be a better fit and we make a great team.
To my parents, Dave and Carla — thank you for supporting me through everything, even when your own lives weren’t necessarily smooth. I grew up safe, trusted, and loved thanks to you both.
To my grandmother, Betty — thank you for reading and editing so many first drafts over the years. Your guidance and encouragement is one of the reasons I kept writing.
To my aunt, Suzanne — you introduced me to practically every author I still love today, and those authors and their books have influenced my own work in a hundred ways. Every Christmas I would get a new book from you, from an author I hadn’t read before, and every one of those books was a treat. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, so it feels fitting to thank you here.
To everyone at McBryde Publishing, but especially to Bill Benners — thank you for sharing your experience, advice, and invaluable critiques. You made this book uniformly better.
To Eryn Kawecki, my editor on this book’s first edition — thank you for filing the edges off my prose, calling out all the confusing stuff I missed, and never, ever letting me get lazy.
To all my advance readers, but especially to Jeremy Sera and Janet Priblo — thank you for your detailed feedback. You are the reason I added several great scenes in this book.
To the amazing staff and volunteers of Balticon, including the people that run the Compton Crook Awards — thank you for your encouragement and for putting together such a great convention.
To the talented writers at the Baltimore Science Fiction Society Critique Circle, and all the new friends and authors I’ve met at various cons — thank you for your support, your advice, and your constant push to improve.
Finally, I want to thank every last person who read a fanfic called Forgotten Messiah over fifteen years ago, then sent me an e-mail to tell me how much you enjoyed it. You convinced me I wanted to share my stories with the world and now I do that every day.
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