by K K Ness
Elania set down a damp cloth. “That’s why we sent Hafryn to Farin to be captured.”
Danil looked sharply at the wolf.
Hafryn shrugged self-depreciatingly. “We had quite the plan to trap the magi. You had to know it was safe to guide them into the tunnels.” He gave Danil a fond look. “I know you, fala. You would have stayed stubborn to the end. And I was right. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there earlier to ease your torment.”
Danil ducked his head and tried not to think of the refuse pit. It would be in his nightmares for a long time. “Being a deadland scavenger saved my life,” he murmured eventually. He glanced at Hafryn. “My people died the day you stole from me.”
The wolf grimaced. “Well, I’m glad you were there to steal from,” he said. “You always had the ability to find kiandrite, even when there should have been none to find.”
“The leylines recognize their allies,” Elania observed.
Danil raised an eyebrow at that. He sent out a questioning thought and received a gentle affirmation. But there’d been other situations where he’d barely survived being out in the deadlands, like the time he’d miraculously survived a cave-in, or when he’d wandered about sick with fever and had no memory of returning to Farin with a pouch of kiandrite. Surely the leylines had played no hand in them.
The leylines suddenly felt…smug.
Scrubbing his face, Danil decided this was all going to take some getting used to.
Sonnen sighed. “Allowing the magi into the temple was our mistake,” he admitted. “We assumed we would find a lodestone of incredible power, not a sacred grove where the leylines had pooled together and then been left to languish. Regardless, I expected our trap in the temple to work.”
Danil shook his head. “Magus Brianna knew, didn’t she?”
“Though she appears to have had no greater knowledge of Kaul than us, she rightly guessed what was needed to gain control of a lodestone’s power,” Sonnen conceded. “In his arrogance, Kaul keyed the lodestone to work only for him—one had to be both Roldaerian and Amasian to access its power.”
“That’s why she went after Kaul’s remnants to make the staff,” Danil surmised.
Sonnen inclined his head in agreement.
Danil glanced down at his right palm, where the House of Corros glyph shone as if freshly painted. He traced the edge and felt a soft warmth when it brightened.
“Did you know?” he asked Sonnen, not able to look up. “When you gave me this?”
Sonnen reached across and placed a hand over the glyph. It fairly hummed at the reaffirmation. “The welcoming to my House is heartfelt, Danil of Farin. In truth, I thought it irrelevant to the task we faced.” He sat back with a smile.
“But not so irrelevant now, right, dragon?” Hafryn asked, grinning.
The dragon released a huff.
Hafryn winked at Danil. “I believe Sonnen promised you a welcoming feast.”
Danil glanced at the dragon.
Sonnen inclined his head. “I have indeed been remiss in my duty. And you are most welcome among us, Danil of Roldaer and Amas.” He stood, clapping his hands. “Come. It’s time you discovered how Amasians truly live.”
29
It was a whirl of dancing, feasting and the trill of pipes that lasted long into the night. For the first time, Danil tried a tankard of honeymead, a hot sugar-spiced ale laced with ground-up kiandrite. It set his head to spinning, with the clamor of leyline voices ringing in his mind.
Hafryn steadied him with a laugh. “Honeymead’s quick on the tongue but heavy in the blood, fala.”
Danil leaned against Hafryn as he struggled to regain his balance. “I can hear the leylines!” he blurted out.
“Custodian!” someone nearby shouted.
A cheer rang about them.
Hafryn’s green eyes sobered slightly. “Try not to drink too quickly,” he said, before setting Danil off to dance with Elania and Blutark.
The snow leopard and bear weren’t the only shifters to dance with him. Danil found himself deep amongst the throng, the music echoing about the gully. Katril, the commander of Altonas, proved particularly skilled, spinning Danil about for a number of songs until he was dizzy from laughter.
After a time, Danil begged off, in need of a place to cool down and gather his breath. He wandered up to the top of the gully, where the din of the celebration was muted by a breeze sweeping across the deadlands. The air carried the scent of fresh loam and grass underfoot, and Danil breathed deeply. Though the deadlands seemed quiescent, he could sense the stirring far below. Once the leylines reached the surface, the deadlands would be reimagined with ferocity.
Danil looked toward Farin, dark and quiet on the edges. Sorrow tugged at his heart. He’d never go back—not even when the village inevitably became inhabited once more by folk with no knowledge of what had transpired. Eyes stinging, he sent a silent farewell. It was time to look forward.
He watched the moonlight play upon the black rocks for a time before abruptly realizing he’d not Hafryn in quite a while. Turning about to search for him, Danil suddenly noticed a figure perched on a nearby boulder.
Sonnen.
The dragon sat with one boot propped upon the rock, elbow resting on his knee. Golden eyes shone in the moonlight.
Danil had no idea how long he’d been there, though he suspected he was the interloper. He sketched a hasty bow. “Beg pardon, Sonnen,” he said, heading for the path that led back down into the gully.
“Stay, Danil,” the dragon rumbled, voice mild. “You are quite welcome.”
Hesitating, Danil trudged over and leaned against the rock at the dragon’s side. It felt sun-warmed along his back.
“I, too, am in need of respite,” Sonnen said with a half-smile. “And a moment’s reflection on a day that very nearly ended in disaster.”
Danil nodded. Facing death was something he’d never grow accustomed to. “In the cavern, you called me a custodian.”
“I did,” Sonnen said.
“How do you know for sure?”
Sonnen gave him a long study, his face half in shadow. “You saved the Roldaerian soldiers, did you not? And also the magi, undeserving as they were.”
Danil nodded.
“You gave mercy because they are folk from your own kingdom.”
Danil shifted, uncomfortable with the criticism.
Sonnen shook his head, the flames in his eyes gentle like a hearth-fire at the end of winter’s day. “That is temperance. Forbearance.” He straightened, staring out at the horizon. “Imbalance is what created the deadlands, Danil. Kaul strode the line between our two kingdoms, but he chose Roldaer. And so there was cataclysm. In his place, however, you chose both.” He patted the ruined rock beneath him. “This place will flourish once more because of it.”
In the back of Danil’s mind, the leylines made a low murmur of agreement. They were already seeking the surface, stretching up through the crevices in the rock. Between his boots, a fragile shoot burst free of the gravel, a single leaf made silver in the moonlight.
Danil looked out over the jagged landscape. “If Brianna spoke true about King Liam, then we’ve not seen the end of this. I can sense the kiandrite in Roldaer and it’s…waning. If the magi have the king’s ear, he’ll send an army to battle against Amas. They need the kiandrite.”
“But there will be no battles here,” Sonnen rumbled.
Danil glanced at him in curiosity.
“You’ll see it in a few weeks,” the dragon said with a satisfied smile that bared teeth. “The deadlands are renewed. It will not allow itself to be used as anything but a sanctuary.” Sonnen leaned back against the rock. “The Roldaerians will try, of course. And they will learn.”
Danil watched as dawn slowly painted the clouds pink and gold. “I’m not sure allowing Brianna to live was a good idea,” he admitted.
Sonnen released a deep sigh. “Stripped of her power, her death serves no purpose. As a warning to other magi of the downfa
lls of greed, however, she is a potent message.” His mouth tilted humorlessly. “Of course, we will see in time if setting her loose was folly.”
It was hardly comforting, but it had to be enough.
Danil settled back to watch the deadlands brighten into day, listening to the contented burble of the leylines as life began anew beneath their feet.
At dawn, Danil found the wolf in one of the many tents splayed about the gully. The tent was much smaller than the one they’d shared in the borderlands, and sparsely furnished with a pair of sleeping pallets and a small chest with a basin atop for rudimentary washing. A lamp hung from a nail in the center pole, sputtered out as the sun cast a soft orange glow against the canvas wall.
“So here’s where you’ve been hiding,” Danil said, folding his arms.
Hafryn washed his hands and elbows, avoiding his gaze. “Cleaning up after a long night is hardly hiding, fala.”
“There’s feasting still going on outside. I didn’t see you for most of the night,” he pointed out. “I would have liked to share the celebrations with you.”
Hafryn scrubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t my intent to disappoint you. I had much to think about.”
“Such as?”
The wolf frowned at him. Clearly, he didn’t enjoy being pressed. “Very well.” The wolf huffed out a breath. “The deadlands hasn’t had a custodian in centuries, and let’s face it, the last one wasn’t anything to emulate.”
Danil nodded, waiting.
“This place has certain quirks. By becoming the new custodian, you are bound here for all your life.”
Danil stoppered his heart. “Oh. I didn’t know that,” he said softly. “Elania and Blutark have already offered to stay on,” he added, recalling drunken proclamations earlier in the night.
“I’m glad. There are no better folk to have at your back than those two.”
“What about you?” Danil asked. “Will you stay as well?”
“I’d be more than happy to help.”
“Help,” Danil said, tasting the word.
“Yes.”
Danil studied Hafryn, unused to the wolf’s evasiveness. He was normally so upfront.
The leylines clamored in his mind with thoughts and suggestions. With dawning understanding, Danil realized they’d purposefully guided him to this place. Hafryn had been the first Amasian he’d spoken to, the first he’d fought with and the first he’d turned to. He recalled the soft murmurings of the wind between the crevasses when he’d first fled Magus Brianna all those weeks ago. Even so deep underground, the leylines had inexorably led him to this wolf.
Danil made a frustrated sound. He felt raw and uncertain, although the path was laid out before him if he dared take it.
“Fala?”
“Are custodians celibate?” he asked, then felt immediately foolish for speaking.
Hafryn started. “I—no. Not to my knowledge.”
Danil forced his spine to straighten. He looked the wolf dead in the eye. “Well, then.”
The wolf tilted his head. Realization slowly dawned in his green eyes. “I think I may have had too much honeymead…”
Danil bit back a smile. “You’re an idiot, wolf.”
Hafryn looked mildly affronted, but amusement showed in his eyes. “Be kind, fala. My soul has been resigned to hounding you across the deadlands for all time.”
Danil rolled his eyes, unable to stop his grin. “You needn’t chase me anymore, wolf,” he said.
Hafryn took a step closer. “Are you certain? Who else will I steal from?” he murmured, green eyes bright.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Danil said dryly.
“Unlikely.”
With a quelling breath, Danil took hold of the wolf’s hand. He smiled. “I’d give you everything, anyway.”
Hafryn’s eyes widened in wonder.
A warm peace settled over him as he met Hafryn’s gaze. “Here, let me show you.”
With a gentle tug, Danil led him to their pallet.
30
A few weeks later, Danil squatted beside a stream and sank his hands into the cool, crisp water. Sunshine beat down on his back and bare arms as he straightened. At the shadowed base of a boulder, the first tree fern stretched out its fronds. The stream itself ran thick with salmon.
Danil raised a hand to cut down the glare as he looked across the deadlands. Deep lines of verdant green cut across the black. In the distance, Farin no longer sat empty. Vines and trees sprouted from the land in wild abandon.
“You’re not going to catch dinner like that,” Hafryn said as he tossed his line back into the stream. He gnashed his teeth at the school of fish that idled past.
“You’re doing a fine job without me,” Danil said, bumping shoulders as he came to sit beside the wolf.
A shadow in the form of a great dragon passed over them, fresh from Corros and the shifter army amassing there. The dragon wheeled above them, shining golden, before heading for the camp set up just a mile south.
“Great. Now we definitely won’t catch anything,” Hafryn muttered as fish scattered.
Danil lay back and idly listened as the leylines sang of voles and hares and birdfolk making homes amidst the new underbrush. A short span from Farin, a cacophony of wildflowers enveloped where the refuse pit once sat.
He avoided the place.
“You’ll have to go someday, fala,” Hafryn told him one evening as they lay together in the quiet of the camp.
Someday, he thought. But not yet. Perhaps when there was peace, when the threat of Roldaer’s king and his magi had passed.
In the meantime, he would guard this place. With the help of Elania and Blutark and even Sonnen, he’d learn to strengthen and protect the leylines already dancing along the surface. With Hafryn at his side and an army at his back, he’d meet every threat with a resounding war cry.
Closing his eyes, he released his mind and wandered along the leylines as they spread out far into the land. He sought out the flecks and veins of kiandrite, the nuggets stored in jars within magi workrooms and boltholes. He found the enclave below the Magi Council, and sensed the kiandrite ingested by mages throughout Roldaer.
Without hesitation, he released a promise. It belled within every speck of kiandrite, resonating like a clarion all the way to the halls of the Roldaerian king.
Amas will never be taken.
A mage looked about her workroom, eyes wide.
The slaughter of your own people will not go unanswered.
Perched upon a decorative throne, a grey-haired man clenched his fist.
If you plan to attack, you will lose.
In a training salle, a military commander stumbled mid-strike.
Danil felt the leylines coalesce around him, charging him with power. He released a final message, feeling the weight of an entire shifter kingdom behind it.
We are ready.
About the Author
K K NESS fled a marketing job in Melbourne, Australia, to write about a cast of characters whose antics and mayhem make her happy. She’s also studying her second degree and spends her free time admiring a dog with an unparalleled ability to find and roll in dead things. She currently resides in sunny Queensland with various family and animal friends.
Visit her website for the latest releases and updates.
www.kkness.com
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Hafryn never expected to make a life for himself on the deadlands. As a lone wolf, he’s always been on the move. But with treasured companions and a perplexing human who offers him an opportunity for more, Hafryn may just have a reason to stay…
Enchanter: The Shifter War Book Two
COMING JULY 2017
Elania is determined to face the Roldaerian army intent on destroying her homeland. But with a strange new magic stirring within, she soon discovers that the greatest danger
to Amas may be herself…