Justice

by Rhiannon Paille

  Ambrose grabbed his right hand and grunted in disgust. “You smell like a Vulture.”

  “I need his help.” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice.

  Ambrose narrowed his eyes. “Where is your honor?”

  Krishani gritted his teeth as Klavotesi pushed Ambrose out of the way. He reached out and grasped Krishani’s left hand. Krishani tried to see a face beyond the abyss inside Klavotesi’s hood, but it was impossible. An uncomfortable warm tingling sensation hit his arm. Closed his eyes, flashes of Kaliel flitted through his mind. It was like every memory was being drawn out of him and spun on a wheel. It made him dizzy and overwhelmed at the same time. After what seemed like forever, Klavotesi dropped his hand.

  “Ambrose,” Klavotesi said. His voice was smooth and deep and it caught Krishani off guard. “I’m needed on Terra.”

  Ambrose’s eyes widened. He narrowed them at Krishani. “You came here to take this Flame.”

  Krishani’s eyes hardened, but he said nothing. It was an admittance of his guilt.

  “Crestaos has risen,” Klavotesi said. He was as still as a stone statue, his stance showing that he was no Flame to mess with.

  “And so you will go with him? He will be a Vulture before long,” Ambrose said, disgust coloring his tone.

  Klavotesi held his ground. “Darkesh of the Valtanyana will be loosed on this realm. One hundred years, if I do not go.”

  Ambrose let a hand fall over his face as he shook his head. “The Vultures will come back.”

  “What?” Krishani asked. He frowned and stared at the body. “Why didn’t they come when you killed him?” He stopped. “Why did you kill him?”

  Ambrose sighed. “I have been around a lot longer than you. Klavotesi saw his darkness and his future. If I let him go he wouldn’t stop. More would suffer. I ended him to end suffering.”

  “And why didn’t the Vultures come?”

  Ambrose looked at Krishani’s hand. “They don’t stay where they cannot be fed.” He turned and mounted his horse. It trotted towards Krishani, where he stood staring at the body. “Again I ask you, where is your honor?”

  “My honor is in revenge.”

  Klavotesi withdrew and mounted the black stallion. “We best be gone if you want me to clean up your mess.”

  Krishani turned from Ambrose and mounted his horse. They trotted towards the winding path back to King Telper’s Court.

  “Wait!” Shimma called.

  Krishani glanced at the clearing. A mass of curly black hair and skinny limbs ran towards them, wearing a long plain black dress. When she was close enough, Krishani noticed she had white skin and light gray eyes. She knelt over the body, an expression of loss on her face.

  Ambrose went to approach her, but Klavotesi was faster. The white-skinned girl fell onto her knees near the body and crystal clear tears fell from her eyes. She glanced up when Klavotesi neared her, fear crossing her expression.

  “What is your name child?” Klavotesi asked.

  “Aulises,” she replied. Her voice was like chimes carrying through the wind, soft and innocent.

  Klavotesi took her hand. “Accept my apologies. You’re my charge now. I have executed your uncle.”

  More tears ran down her face. She came to her feet and Klavotesi helped her mount the horse, then got on behind her. He glanced at Ambrose. “Tell Telper and Havelir where I have gone. I will return when this is over.”

  Ambrose nodded and took off through the paths winding around the dunes.

  Shimma lifted the lantern. “I used this to arrive here,” she said, clicking the last symbol into place. The orb grew until everyone was encompassed by it then quickly pulled into the nothingness of the rift.

  Krishani was so shocked his bones ached with familiar longing and melancholy. He fell silent the moment the girl emerged from the dunes, his eyes pouring over her delicate features. The frame of her body, the shape of her face, her lips, her ears. If it weren’t for the black hair and the dress he would have sworn he knew her.

  She reminded him of Kaliel.

  * * *

  30 - Aulises

  Shimma tumbled down the rocks as they exploded from the lantern onto Terra. All she knew was she was falling fast. The lantern tumbled towards her head. She glanced down; the mountain slope led to a cliff. She rolled and grappled with the rocks, trying to grab onto something to slow her speed. The ledge came closer and she dug her heels into the rocks, begging for something to stop her. The ledge was too close and she winced as she rolled into the blackness.

  She couldn’t breathe as she plunged into the depths of a spring. The lantern fell into the water, followed by the horses and Krishani. She twisted in the prickly cold and grabbed the lantern. She pushed herself to the surface and treaded towards the ledge, glancing at the black horse, its rider and stowaway. They were dry. She narrowed her eyes as she pulled her soaking body out.

  • • •

  Krishani’s head bobbed out of the water as he wrestled to grab Tyr by the reins. When he got the horse to stop kicking he found the shores and his eyes locked with timid green ones. Knives stabbed his chest with trepidation. He was certain they were gray on Amaltheia. He pressed his lips together, cringing at the burning pain in his chest. He moved towards the reeds on the other side of the spring and pulled himself out of the water. Tyr followed as did Shimma. She wrung her hair out on the other side of Klavotesi and the girl. She looked exhausted.

  “That was unpleasant,” Klavotesi said as he pulled his horse towards Krishani. A path curled around the slope they fell from. He signaled his desire to continue moving. Krishani mounted Tyr and glanced at Shimma.

  “Come on.” She mounted behind Krishani and they fled through the lands after Klavotesi.

  The Obsidian Flame was too skilled at riding, too swift for Krishani to keep up. The Flame’s precision was unparalleled and he seemed to know where he was going without any directions. The moonlight loomed over them in the middle of the night as they traipsed over rocks, wound through beds of moss and weeds. Krishani hardly recognized this part of Terra. His mind was a mass of memories, pain in his heart threatening to burrow deeper and burn a hole straight through it.

  “Sorry about the fall,” Shimma whispered as they pulled Tyr up a steep incline and tried to keep in step with the brilliant Obsidian Flame.

  “I’m fine,” Krishani said, gruff.

  “I thought it was a cliff.”

  “Well, it wasn’t.” He tried to shake water off his cloak and tunic as they rode, the wind whipping his hair into a tangled mess.

  Klavotesi dallied at the crest of a hill and disappeared over the rocks. Krishani fought to keep up with him. It felt like Klavotesi was steering them in circles away from something important. He refused to let it get to him. Something bad happened in the mountains, but it wasn’t something Krishani was around for. His stomach felt like sludge as he thought about Davlin, his predecessor. Klavotesi neared a river and flowed by the side of it until the mountains broke into jagged patterns again.

  By the time Krishani knew where they were he was exhausted and out of breath. They had traveled so far in so little time. Tyr fought for air as they rounded the shale sheets of rock and emerged at the far side of the shallow lake. The horse made a beeline for the lake’s edge and began lapping up water like he hadn’t drank in days.

  Klavotesi took his horse towards the tiny cabin tucked between the rocks. Krishani flushed with guilt as he recalled Osvanir, the body he left in the sand. As he pulled Tyr away from the water, Shimma dropped into the sand. She stalked towards the cabin.

  The body was gone.

  Krishani closed his eyes and wondered what might have happened to it. He passed the marks in the sand, looked up to see Klavotesi off his horse near the cabin. Krishani left Tyr on the beach and followed him while the girl hung by the stallion.

  Klavotesi turned when Krishani approached him. “This is a safe house,” he said as they entered the small cabin. It was unchanged. The sing
le bed, the rocking chair, the end table and fire place. Klavotesi nodded and turned to exit. He passed Krishani and moved to where Shimma stood by the lake, drawing down the moon. Krishani followed but paused on the porch. Shimma had her hands to the sky, a contorted look on her face. He sat on the porch steps and watched them.

  Klavotesi caught her by the arm and she whined in protest, but didn’t succeed in ripping her arm away from him. He hummed for a moment and the grim tone reappeared. “Draw the energy later. We need to start a fire.”

  She looked at his cloaked face and nodded. She moved towards the grassy patches curling towards the forests in a mess of rocks, weeds and plants. She climbed them, scouring the woods. Krishani crossed his arms and went to stand, but stopped.

  Shimma returned with an armful of twigs. She dumped it on the dry mud. She and Klavotesi faced each other like they were squaring off. Krishani thought it was slightly amusing. The witch and the Flame.

  “This isn’t good enough,” Klavotesi said. He pointed to the cabin. “Behind it, there are logs.”

  Krishani stood, crossed the beach and pulled Tyr towards the cabin. He tied him up and then went to lift the flap to the knapsack.

  “I need some help,” Shimma hissed as she passed by. She didn’t stop, following the line of the cabin towards the dark crevasse in the rocks. Krishani let the knapsack go and followed her.

  Moments later a fire blazed to life and the four of them sat on logs surrounding the heat. Krishani was relieved to see the land wasn’t in an uproar, the battle hadn’t yet begun. Shimma rested her elbows on her thighs, her face cupped in her hands. She stared at the blaze, her eyelids drooping.

  “There are too many problems with this land,” Klavotesi said, breaking the silence.

  Krishani looked at him, but his face was still obscured by shadows. “Why did you choose Amaltheia?”

  Klavotesti shifted his hands, manipulating the fire. Krishani remembered when he used to do that in Amersil. That place was so far away he could hardly remember the shapes of the trees. The fire swirled, shaped and flared in flashes of orange, yellow and green. Krishani barely realized he was the one doing it, the color changing was something he had forgotten about.

  “It chose me,” Klavotesi said.

  “Why did you kill him?” Aulises asked. She sat next to Klavotesi, her eyes on the majestic colors in the fire. Krishani realized it must be surreal for her. Amaltheia was so dismal in its shades of gray. He glanced at her green eyes, which were wildly distracting.

  “I looked into his soul, child. There was no purity left. I put him out of his misery,” Klavotesi answered.

  “He was the only one I had left.” Tears streaked down her face. Krishani dared another glance at her, her agonized face obscured by thick curls of long black hair. He drew his eyes to the ground and stifled the pain in his chest.

  “Your brothers were dangerous men. And your father was a traitor,” Klavotesi said.

  “They said my mom went far away when I was younger. Do you know where she is?”

  “Dead. She has always been dead, since you were born.”

  Aulises made a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a gasp and buried her face in her hands. Klavotesi remained as a statue beside her. Krishani glanced over at Shimma, who had drifted to sleep.

  “You don’t protect these lands well,” Klavotesi began, staring at Krishani.

  Krishani looked up, sharo pain mushrooming across his temples as he stared into the flames. He wanted the night to pass quickly so when dawn came, they could face Elwen and tell him about the terrible things he had done. He looked at his black and white hands. Traces of the curse crept into the back of his left hand. He recoiled, pulling the sleeves of his cloak over them, bunching the fabric in his palms. He sat in silence, letting guilt eat at him. He had nothing to say to Kalvotesi in his defense, the Flame knew everything already.

  “Ambrose takes great honor in his task,” Klavotesi said.

  “I don’t take joy in death,” Krishani said.

  “I realize you wouldn’t.” Klavotesi paused. “But there is life after death.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  Klavotesi moved lightning quick, pulling the blade from somewhere in his robes. He held Krishani at its long slender point. “I speak none other than the truth.” His form towered over him, and even though he was hidden by his robes, his presence alone was intimidating.

  Krishani gulped and leaned away from the point of the sword. He wanted the end of his life to come, but not at the point of the Flame’s sword. “I meant no harm.”

  Klavotesi slid the blade back into the invisible place between the folds of his robes and let his hands show. They were strong and muscular, with thick fingers and white almost-transparent skin.

  “If I am to be more accurate, your care of this realm is worse than poor.” Klavotesi faced the lake. “I steered us away from a striking sight. Did you know the Daed have been here before?”

  “How do you know who they are?” Krishani asked.

  “I know all when I want to know all. The bodies of goblins and humans are scattered across a battlefield near to here. Animals have been picking at them for weeks. Neither you nor Davlin thought to save those souls from the hoards of Vultures.”

  Krishani hung his head. “Davlin was dead.”

  “Ah yes, that would explain it. More souls devoured. You refused to leave her, and look at what you left in the wake of your destruction.”

  Krishani didn’t want to hear more out of the Obsidian Flame. He couldn’t fight him because it was evident he would lose so he stood and moved towards the knapsacks. He needed some form of comfort and Tiki was good at making pain feel numb and nonexistent. He couldn’t listen to Klavotesi ripping into him when all he wanted was to face Crestaos and end himself. He lifted the flap and looked at the dim orange light inside.

  “Leave me here,” Tiki whispered.

  Krishani didn’t listen, his thoughts blinded by his need for solace. He took her out of the knapsack and returned to the fire. He planned to let her work her magic on him, but as he neared the fire Klavotesi pulled the sword out again.

  “Don’t bring her near me,” he said an octave higher than usual. He backed away from the fire, keeping the sword out as a means of protection against Krishani. He seemed alarmed and irrational, the solid calm and reverence replaced with fear. Krishani sat on the log, opening the chamber, ignoring Tiki’s protests as he held her in his hands. He waited for her to make the pain go away.

  “Put that vile Flame away!” Klavotesi roared, his deep voice returned.

  Krishani acted like he hadn’t heard Klavotesi. He didn’t care, he was so distrait, every fiber of his being brimming with sadness. He was on the edge of madness. Any second he could spill over and everything he had once been would be gone.

  “This is dangerous,” Tiki screamed. She dimmed to almost nothing. The dams broke all at once. Shock waves hit his heart, fire crawling up his arms and legs. Krishani gaped at the sensation, his throat constricted, refusing to let air into his lungs. He fell off the log, knocking the lantern into the sand. Muscle spasms rocked his body. It was like lightning coursed through him, turning his body into a jagged bolt of energy. He dropped Tiki, his fingers digging into the sand as he rolled onto his side and fought against the black spots clouding his vision. All he could see was snow, giant flakes of black snow floating in front of his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, the deafening sound of the explosion ringing in his ears. He gasped; it was all the air he could get. There was a cry nearby as Krishani gagged, bile coating his throat. He opened his eyes and craned his neck. Klavotesi was on the black stallion, about to take off. Krishani heard Shimma curse. Her footsteps crunched the sand beside his ears. Krishani dropped his head, letting the onslaught of pain wash over his body in waves.

  Krishani whined as the disease ripped through him. It was like he was burning and freezing to death at the same time. The disease seeped into his bones; frostbite ripped through h
is veins, making his arm numb and heavy. His torso curled into knots as his heart burned. Claws raked over his flesh. He wanted to destroy himself in the worst way and he was getting closer and closer to it. Aches pulsed from every wound he had ever endured in battle, his insides turning into liquid. He sputtered and foamed at the mouth as the curse fought against the very pain in his heart, a pain caused because he was alive.

  No amount of time would make the pain of losing Kaliel hurt any less, and there was only so much time before the reverent numbness of the Vulture’s cold depths took him over. Tears escaped the sides of his eyes as he fought to take shaky, shallow breaths. He tried to lie still, let the pain rake over him until he was nothing, but it continued to cover him in waves, burning, freezing, aching and clawing at him.

  He wanted death; more than anything he wanted it.

  He closed his eyes and thought about Kaliel’s amethyst eyes. There was the boy he used to be, watching her swim with merfolk, wanting her, her and nothing else, losing her. It didn’t help to remember who he was, but the way she looked at him, loved him, relied on him, trusted him to protect her. He sucked in a breath and it was like he was drowning. She did everything she could to make sure he lived, and he wasn’t strong enough to do that without her. Part of him couldn’t believe what he was becoming in the wake of her loss. His hands trembled, his legs shook, and his chest rose and fell as he fought for clarity. Even if he faced Crestaos there wasn’t any hope of winning. Morgana would awaken the rest. He couldn’t fight them all and expect to live. Losing himself dishonorably wouldn’t bring him any closer to her.

  Krishani tasted blood in his mouth. The pain subsided, slowly depleting. When he was able to open eyes an orange light glowed above him. He grabbed it, desperate to stop Tiki from building the dams, but it was too late—tolerance set in. He wanted to fight the pain on his own. Using Tiki only meant the pain was still there, held at bay, building in intensity. He pushed himself onto his side and tried to clear his vision. Shimma knelt beside him, the orange Flame in her hand. She looked concerned.