The Sword of Einiko (Swords of the Bloodline Book 2)

by A. R. Wilson

  Opening the door, she saw Jerricoh standing with his back to her, hands clasped under his cloak. His long, dark hair flowing over the lump of a hood to the middle of his back. He turned his shoulder to look at her. The color of his eyes so dark, they looked almost black. His smile so soft and genuine she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “This way, m’lady.” He gave a bow of the head, then offered her his arm.

  The moment her hand cupped under to hold his forearm, he put his hand over hers. Whatever his game, she had to allow it for now. Each day brought her closer to putting a firm grip on the missing piece in Einiko’s plan. The mare wanted to teach her how to fight against that warlock and win. If there was one risk not worth taking, it was doing anything which might interfere with her excursions past the gardens.

  She played with her awareness of the illusion blanketing the grounds. If she focused, she could choose whether or not to smell individual species of flowers. How she wished she could ask Jerricoh how it all worked. Could he see it? How did knowing Einiko’s name give her the ability to see through it?

  At the last row of hedge, he released her hands to open the gate. On the other side, they waited for several minutes before the unicorns came. Tascana used her new skill to see they came out from behind a stone wall, even though the illusion showed them walking out from behind a hill. The lead stallion came up to Jerricoh first, while a few stood off to the side. Several more minutes passed until the mare came with her foal. Tascana’s first thought was to run to her. But the sight of that vision of purity took her breath away. Watching the mare nod her head in rhythm with her gentle gait brought tears to Tascana’s eyes. This was the one who taught her heart how to love. This was the reason that the life growing inside her had elevated from a pregnancy to a human. And not any mere faceless human: her son.

  Tascana placed her hands on her belly. The joy within almost unbearable. How had she become so lucky as to find beauty among such filthy ashes?

  “This is not luck.”

  She flicked a glance at Jerricoh to make sure he wasn’t watcher her. No such chance. With one hand stroking Veredict’s neck, Jerricoh stood with those dark eyes transfixed on her.

  You are officially creeping me out.

  “He doesn’t mean you any harm. Just the opposite.”

  “You honor me with your presence.” Tascana hoped her choice of words would keep him and Einiko from guessing what they were talking about.

  “I see joy has found you.”

  “I am content with my son.”

  “You are far beyond contentment.”

  “The Master wishes me to have regular visits here now. He is greatly pleased with the help you have given me as his apprentice.”

  “Jerricoh swells with pride toward you. Whatever you have done to earn it must have been great.”

  “Your wisdom is without price. I am The Master’s vessel.” Hopefully, the mare wouldn’t get offended, but Jerricoh wouldn’t stop staring at her!

  As though sensing her thoughts, the mare took a few steps forward until she could put her head over Tascana’s shoulder. That white muzzle pulled her close. The world melted away into another reality. They were standing on the ocean, waves breaking all around them. Nothing but white-capped water as far as she could see.

  “This is your path.” She swiveled her white head at the water.

  Tascana kept her arms on the mare’s neck. Just in case. The sea breeze was so real, she could taste the salty, thick spray as she breathed.

  “When the time comes, you must hurry across the sea. Though you will live as a vagabond, you will find safety and refuge to raise your son. Do your best to train him up as a man of honor.”

  “I will.” The sight of the choppy water churned up the desire for freedom in her heart. How she had longed her whole life to see this. Daddy never allowed them to journey east towards the ocean, towards the land where he came from.

  The mare lifted her head and took a step back. Waves melted into the cold stone of the dungeon-like grounds beyond the castle walls. The foal came up to Tascana’s hip and nuzzled into her. Rubbing the underside of his jaw felt like running her hands on the smoothest silk. The faintest bump of a horn boasted from his crown.

  “They do seem to cherish your presence.” Jerricoh kept his hands behind his back as he walked toward her.

  “It is always an honor to be seen as an object of worth by so noble a creature.” Her mind reeled from the images of the vision. She barely had the awareness to put any emotion into the words.

  “I would have to agree with that statement.” His eyes continued to stay on her.

  “We should probably get back to the castle for dinner.”

  “And I will agree with that statement, as well. Shall we?”

  His hand cupped over hers when she took his arm. The mare apparently believed he didn’t mean Tascana any harm. Her exactly words were ‘just the opposite.’ What was the opposite of harm? Notions such as help, mending, healing, and sooth came to mind, but she doubted that was the specific meaning of the mare’s message.

  Why do I even care? My path is on the sea.

  Placing a hand on her belly, she focused on the first hint of her future. One day, she and her beautiful son would journey across the ocean, to a place where she could raise him to be a man of honor. The fluttering in her chest caused her to gasp. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, grinning at the feeling of it coming to a soft point at the top. Would her son’s ears be longer? Or come to a sharper tip?

  The sight of the dead gardens brought her back to the present. How was she supposed to get out of the castle? Her body would only remain at this physical level of fitness for so long. Soon, the swelling in her middle would slow her down, even make certain activities dangerous. She had to find an escape before then.

  “When the time comes, you must hurry across the sea.”

  The mare’s words crashed a possibility across Tascana’s mind.

  A time was coming? The prophetic nature of the phrase slapped her in the face so hard, she stumbled two steps. Jerricoh asked something about her being okay, and she gave him some response. Her entire mind wrapped tight around that single phrase: when the time comes. A time was coming for her when she needed to be ready to leave. But which road led to the sea? She wasn’t even sure what part of the world she was in. Other than knowing the dragon had taken her south at her kidnapping, she had no idea where Einiko kept her. Perhaps the mare would tell her at their next meeting.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jerricoh patted her hand. “You seem almost faint.”

  “Umm, yes.”

  “What’s going on in that mind of yours?” He gave a gentle tug with his arm.

  “For the first time in my life, I am truly content.” Was that close enough to the truth?

  “I’m glad. Truly, I share your joy.”

  He kept up his attempts at small talk through their entire walk back to the castle and the evening meal. By the time he released her to her room, she was glad to finally have a moment of silence. She needed to think. Needed to sort through some things.

  * * *

  The following morning, Jerricoh did not come for her. She waited as long as she dared before going to the library alone. Opening the book from the previous day, she read as quickly as she could. Rothar brought the afternoon meal some time later, with still no sign of Jerricoh. As per her promise, she didn’t ask why. Her job was to study, and his job was to help her do that. He only abandoned her under Einiko’s orders.

  Zander and Triast continued their dutiful stance in the background. Tascana felt grateful she didn’t need to call on them to perform any task. The sight of their vacant expressions still grated on her soul.

  Jerricoh finally entered the library at the time for her visit to the mare. His ice blue eyes raked towards her.

  “Greetings, my lord.” She turned a page to show she had been hard at work.

  “You will not go to see the mare today.”
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  The hint of a ‘why’ pressed against her lips, and she clamped her mouth shut to prevent it. Taking a hard swallow she chose a different response. “If that is The Master’s wish.”

  “It is mine.” His tone bit as curt as the expression on his face.

  “Forgive me.” What was going on? “Whatever you choose. I appreciate your guidance.”

  “Go to your room, and stay there until further instructed.”

  She came to a stand. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Threads of deep blue pulsed at the very edge of his eyes. Something troubled him greatly. Had Einiko hurt him? Or had the warlock suspected the vision given to her by the mare? Whatever brooded behind those stormy oceans, it wasn’t good.

  As she walked past him, he grasped her arm and jerked her close. The hiss of his gritted teeth made his words sound more like a growl than a sentence. “Do exactly as I say.”

  He gave her a shove as he released her arm.

  What did he do to you? We had a deal!

  * * *

  That night, she slept fitfully. Repeatedly waking for no reason, and having to fall back asleep. When Rothar brought her breakfast, she stared at the tray across the room for a few minutes before getting out of bed.

  The sound of metal vibrating against metal buzzed near the door. Then she felt the bed quiver beneath her. Dozens of loose items around the room trembled or shook. Was it an earthquake? Then a roar. A deep, howling scream like that of a lion claiming victory over its prey. The room continued to rattle from the unseen force. Instinct clouded her vision to a single pinpoint. She knew the spells to stretch her intuition. To sense the cause behind the tremors. With both hands on either side of her face, she opened her mind to sight beyond sight. Her eyes flashed wide.

  “Daddy?!”

  CHAPTER 25

  Jurren rested his cheek on the cool, stone floor past the exit. For eight days he endured blistering heat, and hundreds of insect stings. Though his throat burned for water, relief at finally being out of that cursed desert soothed him to a halt.

  “Got to. Keep. Moving.” Azredan’s voice cracked as he spoke.

  “Please. One minute.” Kidelar collapsed next to Jurren.

  Their eyes met for a moment. The cool of the stone must have felt as good to the scholar as it had to Jurren. “Two minutes.”

  “Come along gentlemen. Water is very near.” Azredan grunted to a stand.

  Arkose plodded on after the elf. Jurren closed his eyes to focus on getting back up. But only because Azredan promised water. If it turned out to be a lie, he could always kill the elf. Kidelar wouldn’t mind too much.

  The sound of a rippling stream pushed him to walk a little faster. Around the next turn, a fountain rested in a stretch of wall. Arkose sat bent over in the water. Jurren tried to hurry and stumbled. The feeling of tangled limbs on his back told him he took out Kidelar in the process. They managed to regain their footing and make it to their gurgling paradise.

  Equal quantities of burning and relief flowed over Jurren’s cracked lips, and into his withered throat. After the pain in his mouth and throat calmed, he refilled his waterbag. He held the full bag and let it run over his bent head. Rubbing the fluid through the grit caked into his hair, he took a makeshift bath.

  “Hey! I’m still drinking!” Arkose elbowed him in the rib.

  Jurren mumbled an apology. Pivoting to the side, he continued washing his neck, as well.

  “We rest here an hour, and then we head underground.” Azredan lowered his waterbag into the fountain.

  “Why underground?” Kidelar ruffled water through his beard.

  “The safest way into Einiko’s castle is through the catacombs.”

  Into the castle? Did he say into? Jurren scaled the stones to the top of the fountain. Less than a day of walking separating him from the sight of an enormous castle rising in the distance.

  Azredan slapped his leg. “Get down!”

  Coming to his senses, Jurren hunkered below the level of the wall. “Sorry, it’s just that I... I mean...”

  “No words are necessary.” Azredan settled on the ground against the wall. “But from here on out, we have to be extra cautious. This is the belly of the beast. One wrong move could alert the warlock to our presence. We cannot afford for him to have even a moment of preparation before we locate him.”

  The sight of that great structure filled Jurren’s mind. Tascana was behind one of those windows. Held captive behind its walls. He was so close. Close enough to ruin any chance of seeing her again if he did something else stupid like that. He shook his head and pressed a palm into his forehead.

  “Rest up men. As soon as we’ve caught our breath, we head out.” Azredan took another long, slow drink.

  Jurren spent the entire hour pressing into his inner knowing. Wisdom filled his weary joints with strength. This was it. For nearly three months, he had fought the entire world for her. Soon, very soon, he would finally hold her again.

  At the end of their rest, Azredan led them into another section of the labyrinth. They came to a passage much wider than the others. The elf counted off steps from the corner, then jammed his sword at the edge of a stone slab on the ground. Moving to help, Jurren braced his sword in the newly formed gap and helped to lift the stone. A hole, barely large enough for them to slip through with their packs on, waited underneath. Azredan motioned for Jurren to go first. He complied, dropping into a musty, dank corridor, followed soon after by Kidelar and Arkose. When Azredan entered, he dropped the slab back in place. Darkness enveloped them.

  “Now what?” Arkose spoke in a tense whisper.

  Jurren could hear the grin in Azredan’s voice as he responded.

  “Perhaps Kidelar would like to answer this one.”

  Arkose snorted in annoyance. Jurren listened to Kidelar make a few grunts as though deep in thought.

  “I have no idea where we are.” Kidelar sounded embarrassed.

  Azredan suppressed a laugh. “Quite all right. Let’s form a line and get moving. We’ll be in the dark for a while and need to hold onto each other so we don’t get lost.”

  For the sake of Arkose’s continuing sour mood, Jurren helped to move him to the rear of the line. With Arkose holding the hem of Jurren’s cloak, and Jurren holding onto Kidelar ,they plunged through the dark with Azredan in the lead. They walked down a steady incline for dozens of steps before leveling out. Time lost all meaning. Between the complete lack of light, and the intense odor of damp earth, it felt like Jurren had walked into his own grave. On and on they marched without so much as a hint of where they were going. Twice he worried about the possibilities of Einiko’s creatures wandering these depths, and twice his inner knowing calmed that fear. He could sense the safety of this tunnel. Something powerful and good waited for them at the end. And it would be something that would help him defeat Einiko.

  After what felt like many hours of walking, the ground dipped again. A dim light came up ahead. Several dozen yards later, they stood before a great cavern leading straight down. Stairs had been built into the side. It resembled a giant well made of stone with steps circling down the walls. At the bottom, the light shone even brighter.

  “This is it.” Kidelar’s breath came out louder than the words he tried to speak. “This is the source.”

  “One of the places, yes.” Azredan put a hand on the scholar’s shoulder.

  “Source of what?” Arkose rubbed the back of his head.

  “The Ever One.”

  Arkose dropped his hand. “We took a detour so you could have some prayer time?”

  Jurren marveled at Azredan’s impish grin. How was it that when Jurren insulted the Ever One the elf lost his temper, but if Arkose did it, the whole thing was amusing?

  “Not prayer. Power.” Kidelar struggled to calm his breathing.

  “What kind of power?” Arkose glanced into the well.

  “Power to reclaim the sword.” The words were out of Jurren’s mouth before he even knew he spoke
.

  “Am I the only one not up to speed in these conversations?” Arkose settled a hand on the back of his neck.

  “Everything will make sense when we reach the bottom.” Jurren walked around the other three to start his descent.

  The shallow, broad stairs made for an easy walk. Roughly two hundred feet separated the bottom from the top. He walked as fast he dared, hungry to reach the source of the light. A hunger of the same intensity as when he heard water after escaping the desert. At the bottom, a tall arch carved into the wall stood across from them. Something brighter than daylight shone through and obscured their view of what lay beyond.

  “Go ahead.” Azredan put gentle pressure on Jurren’s arm.

  The way the other three men stared at him, Jurren assumed he must have paused more than a moment to take in the sight. He gave a nod and started walking. That bright glow felt both serene and terrifying all at once. Power emanated from the light. The kind that demanded respect by the sheer awe and magnitude of its presence. With each footstep, Jurren felt an increasing need to kneel and simply bask in the moment of being here.

  But my daughter...

  Willing himself to stay upright, he passed through the arch. Seven pillars of light stood in a half-circle at the far end of a great cavern. Each pillar blazed wide enough for the four men to stand shoulder to shoulder under their beam. At the base rested a shallow bowl with thin wisps of smoke rising up. White flames intensified within the center pillar of light. They gathered and morphed as something took shape. The form stepped out from the light and Jurren saw it had taken on the likeness of a griffin. But no ordinary head-of-an-eagle and body-of-a-lion creature. This one burned as though its fur and feathers were made of golden fire. Unlike the griffin creatures Azredan described, this entity resembled the head and front legs of a lion with the body and rear legs of an eagle.

  The fiery griffin padded forward, shifting to white as it broke away from the pillar. A great mane waved from the top of its head and flowed to below its chest. Dazzling white eyes, without any iris or pupil, appeared as though light escaped through the gaps in its lids. The fur along the front half flowed and pulsed like flames. As the creature advanced Jurren, noticed something unusual about the shape of the feathers along the wings. Tiny eyes, like those of a man, glowed at the end portion of each one. As though actual orbs of sight littered all along the sides of its body. Was it a pattern design, or did each orifice provide some kind of view in all directions?