Combatant: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 3)

by Anderle, Michael

  The three-tiered mass of Rodania appeared on the horizon. Captain Segolan came to stand with them as the ship churned ever forward through the water.

  "We'll use the easternmost port," the captain told them. He looked at Eohne. "Do you need to be registered at the border?" The young man pulled a small ledger from a breast pocket and opened it to make a note.

  Eohne shook her head. "I was registered only a few days ago as I was going the other way to scout Trevilsom. Allan does, though. He's never been to Rodania, as far as we know."

  "He is your father, I understand?" Captain Segolan looked at Jordan. "But he has no wings?" He was obviously confused by this, as anyone would be.

  Jordan only nodded. "He is my father."

  "So you got the Strix gene from your mother's side then." Captain Segolan made a note in the small ledger.

  Jordan's lips parted, but no words came. Was there a point in telling the ship's captain that her mother didn’t have any wings either? Before she could decide what to say, the captain made his note and put the ledger away. Jordan let it go.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" The captain braced his hands on the railing and took a deep lungful of the salty sea air. "I remember the first time I was registered. Poof!" He made a little exploding motion with his fingers. "It appeared out of nowhere, looking like that-–" he gestured at the sky where Middle Rodania slowly rotated like a planet through the solar system. He squinted, a line appearing between his brows. "Sort of like that. I don't remember quite so much pollution."

  Toth, who had been watching the sky behind the ship, perhaps for more errant harpies, snapped his head around. "Pollution? Middle Rodania is as fresh and clean as sliced lemon." The Nycht shaded his eyes with a hand.

  "No, he's right." Eohne's dark eyes were leveled on the north side of Middle Rodania. "Look over there."

  A thick, gray mist blanketed part of Middle Rodania, like someone had smudged a dirty thumb across a painting.

  Toth frowned. "Something's wrong there."

  The party watched as the ship brought them ever nearer, and Rodania came into focus.

  "It’s smoke," ventured Jordan. "There sure is a lot of it."

  "There must have been a fire, no?" Captain Segolan didn't wait for an answer. "Excuse me, I'm needed on deck. We'll be pulling up to border control in an hour and a half, I'd say. "You should ready your man for transport. Have you got someone meeting you? Bringing a stretcher or something?"

  "I'll carry him," said Toth without hesitation. Jordan shot him a look so full of sappy gratitude that Eohne hid a smile behind her hand.

  The captain nodded and the ledger was back, a note made. "What about you, Miss Eohne?"

  "I'll be taking the public transport," said Eohne.

  "No you won't!" Jordan said, affronted. She looked at the captain. "I'll be taking her."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, and you can write that in your little book there." Jordan tapped on the page.

  Eohne and Toth shared an amused look.

  "It's alright, Jordan-–"

  This time the Elf clammed up when the Arpak shot her a look. "I can carry you, Eohne. And if it's hard for me, all the better. I need to get stronger; I need to start training, the sooner the better."

  "Very well." The captain made his note and left them alone.

  "Training?"

  "Toth is going to teach me how to fight." Jordan crossed her arms. "I need to be able defend myself. This is a bloody dangerous place, and the two of you aren't always going to be around to rescue me."

  Toth blinked down at Jordan. "You were serious about that?"

  Jordan had asked Toth to train her when they were facing Ashley on that terrifying rainy night in the port of Maticaw. Apparently he didn’t think she'd meant it.

  Jordan dropped her arms in surprise. "Of course!" She paused. "Oh." She blushed and put her hands to her cheeks. "I'm so dumb. I'm sorry."

  "It's alright." Toth's own pale complexion had gone a little pink.

  Eohne looked from one Strix to the other. "I missed something. What just happened?"

  "I made a big assumption." Jordan blushed furiously. "I asked Toth to train me, but he has to go home, back to The Conca."

  "Don't worry about it, Jordan," Toth murmured, his words barely audible. He looked miserable.

  "I can ask Sol. I'm so sorry. I didn't think." Jordan put a hand over her brow.

  Toth looked even more miserable at these words. Finally, he just turned away. "I'll check on Allan, rig up a way to make him comfortable." The Nycht disappeared below deck.

  Jordan turned back to Eohne and put her forehead on the Elf's shoulder with a long agonized groan. "I'm such a numb-nut."

  "A what?"

  "An idiot." Jordan raised her head and looked at her friend. "I'm so vacant sometimes. Not to mention selfish. I don't suppose you have magic for that?"

  Eohne grinned, her small white teeth glinting in the morning sun. " ‘Fraid not. But I'm told time and maturity are usually a cure."

  Jordan blew a lock of hair away from her face. "I hate that he has to leave."

  "For what it's worth," Eohne squeezed her friend’s arm, "I suspect he hates it, too."

  "Do you think so?"

  "Sure. Did you see how defensive he got when Captain Segolan called Middle Rodania polluted? You can take the Nycht out of Rodania––"

  "But you can't take Rodania out of the Nycht," Jordan finished.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Le Monarque slowed as the ship drew nearer to the circular border control. It looked identical to the one Sol and Jordan had registered Jordan through on her first visit to Rodania. There was nothing to moor to, so Captain Segolan had the crew lower the anchor while they registered Allan.

  A border officer came out of the small floating dome to greet them. She was a petite Nycht with tawny brown wings and matching hair pulled up into a huge bun on the top of her head. Her mouth was bracketed by lines of stress, and her face had a waxy pallor which didn't look healthy. Like most of the other Nychts Jordan had seen on Rodania, dark circles ringed her eyes from constantly battling her nocturnal nature.

  Jordan smiled at the girl as the sailors lowered a plank connecting the ship with the border control station, but the Nycht didn't smile back. She only crossed the plank with a stiff stride and a limp. A sailor reached up to help her take the steps down onto the deck.

  "How many for registration?" Her tone was all business.

  Jordan stepped forward. "Just one, but he's ill. He's in the captain's cabin."

  "Ill?" the Nycht snapped. "Ill with what?" Her gaze fell on Toth with this statement, and her brown eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed, like she might recognize him. Her dewclaws curled inward as her eyes raked him, then snapped back to Jordan.

  Jordan hesitated, not sure what to say. Should she even mention that Allan had been on Trevilsom? What if border control didn't allow him through?

  Eohne stepped forward. "He isn't contagious, if that's what you're worried about."

  "We'll see about that." She pulled a syringe attached to a canister out of the bag strapped across her chest. It was the same tool Pabs had used on Jordan and Blue when they'd registered. "Show me this ill person."

  Captain Segolan made his way through the sailors who'd gathered around. "Kheko," he said, with a smile. "How are you?"

  "Captain Segolan." The Nycht's stiff expression seemed to relax a fraction. "How's business? Haven't seen much of you lately."

  "Been busy on the Operyn line. You've lost weight." The captain's kindly gaze swept the short Nycht with concern. "They working you too hard?"

  "It's been a nightmare lately," Kheko admitted. "Big trouble brewing."

  Toth seemed to come alive. "Does it have anything to do with the smoke clouding part of Middle?"

  Kheko's sharp gaze nailed the mercenary, and fire seemed to flare in her eyes. "Damn right it does." She pointed to the ring of pollution shrouding the spires of a Rodanian town.
"That mess is from our second harpy attack in as many days."

  Toth's mouth sat ajar as he gaped at the Nycht in blatant shock. The pink drained out of his cheeks. "That’s…" he shook his head, "not possible." His voice broke on the last word.

  "Yeah, that's what the Light Elves told us, but tell that to the harpies. They found a way." Kheko rubbed a hand over her brow. "It gives me a headache just thinking about it. You can imagine the fix Rodania is in right now—–it's like civil war up there.

  Toth seemed lost for words as he stared at Kheko. Finally, he absorbed what she had said, and his expression hardened. His icy gaze swung to Jordan and Eohne. "That explains where our harpy came from. He didn't have to go around Rodania; he went straight through it."

  Kheko's dark blond brows shot up. "You had a harpy attack?" She paled. "Over water?!"

  The sailors clustered about, nodding and murmuring their own responses to this question.

  "How did you-—" Kheko was completely disarmed by this. "What did you do?"

  One of the sailors took the opportunity to jump in. He gestured toward Toth with an expression akin to worship. "This one faced him solo. I've never seen anything like it in all my livelong days."

  Kheko's gaze pinned Toth with a solid stare. "I knew it," she breathed. Her entire countenance melted. The Nycht transformed before their very eyes from a border control guard to a starstruck teen. "You're a rebel."

  Toth looked as though someone had dropped ants down his vest. He took a step back, uncomfortable with all eyes on him.

  "Are you him?" Kheko's eyes were shining with adoration.

  " ‘Him’?" Toth crossed his arms over his chest. "I should say not. I'm not anyone you would have heard of, certainly not any him." He echoed the way she'd said the last word, with awe.

  Kheko shook her head. "You are. You're him. You're the rebel king."

  Toth almost laughed, but still seemed too uncomfortable for levity to fully emerge. "You've got me mixed up with someone else."

  "Toth." Kheko breathed his name like she was whispering a prayer. "All the Nychts know about you."

  "What?" Toth replied with something akin to horror. "How?"

  "I have a cousin who gets to hear what the letters say firsthand."

  "What letters?"

  The sailors, Jordan, and Eohne, as well as Captain Segolan, were all watching this with interest, their heads passing back and forth between the two Nychts like it was a tennis match.

  "There's a rebel who writes letters to her mother. Some of the contents are published in a small memo that gets passed from hand to hand." Kheko seemed bemused at Toth's agonized amazement. "You think a bunch of Nychts can just leave Rodania to start their own colony? You think they can fight harpies in The Conca, and the rest of us wouldn't want to know about it?" She made a shrug that said 'this should be obvious'. "It's my favorite day of the month."

  "There are monthly updates?" Toth looked like he was feeling seasick again; a sheen of sweat had formed on his brow.

  Kheko nodded. "You're a hero." She softly added, "To the Nychts, anyway."

  "But we failed." These words came out on a thunderstruck breath.

  Surprise at these words blossomed in Jordan's chest, and she made a mental note to ask Toth about this when there weren't so many people around.

  "You didn't." Kheko stepped up to Toth and put a hand on his forearm bracer. "You've given Nychts options. I have thought about joining you so many times." Kheko hesitated.

  Toth looked down at the tiny Nycht. His words were so quiet, like he was afraid he might offend her with the subtext of what he said next. "It is a hard life, Kheko. It's not a decision that should be made lightly."

  Kheko nodded. "I know. I never really took it seriously, but now that this has happened…" She gestured to the smoke-wreathed section of Middle Rodania. "I don't know what's going to happen here." Her chin quivered. "Everything is uncertain. Life in The Conca might look better than life here for the first time since you left. The Council is fighting with the Light Elves, saying they are to blame. The Light Elves deny that their magic has failed, and so far, King Konig is a no-show." She shook herself, and her professional face was back. "But we are wasting time. Let's take a look at this fellow in your cabin, and see if we can't get you on your way." She gave Toth a brilliant smile, and it transformed her into a heart-stopping beauty. Toth looked momentarily stunned, and watched her follow Captain Segolan.

  Jordan wanted nothing more than to pull Toth aside and ask if he was okay, but Kheko had already disappeared into the captain's quarters, and she rushed to join her. A question had been brewing in her mind at the sight of the syringe. She made her way to Allan's bedside, where Kheko was already withdrawing blood from Allan's arm. The little vacuum sucked up its sample, and Kheko rolled down Allan's shirtsleeve.

  "I was wondering," Jordan began, but Kheko turned away abruptly, ignoring her. Jordan followed the border guard back out onto the deck and through the crowd of sailors. The men were still standing around like they had nothing better to do—–maybe they didn't until the ship got underway again.

  "Excuse me. Kheko?" Jordan thought perhaps the Nycht hadn't heard her the first time.

  "Mmmm?" Kheko made a distracted noise and didn't spare a glance for Jordan.

  "The machine you put the blood into, will it give you a diagnosis?"

  Kheko turned and bared her teeth at Jordan abruptly. Jordan took a surprised step back at the anger in Kheko's face. The Nycht snapped, "This is border control, not an infirmary."

  Jordan blinked, brought up short by the venom in Kheko's tone. The Nycht pushed her way to the gangplank and crossed over the water to the dome, disappearing inside.

  "Don't take it personally." Toth was at Jordan's elbow. "She doesn't know you're not like the others."

  "What if her machine reports some clue about what's wrong with him?" Jordan brightened with an idea. "Could you ask her? You're like a rockstar to her. She'd do anything for you."

  Toth choked out a half-laugh. "I doubt that."

  Jordan shot him a cynical look.

  "I'll try," he amended.

  Several moments later, Kheko emerged and crossed halfway over the water, stopping in the middle of the gangplank. "You can pass in a few minutes."

  "Did you learn anything about his condition?" Toth asked, leaning his elbows on the railing.

  Kheko hesitated. "I'm not really supposed to say." She pressed her lips together then added, "I can tell you that he's not contagious. Whatever he has is no threat to Rodanian citizens. But…" she paused again.

  "What is it?"

  Kheko crossed the rest of the way and leaned toward Toth. Jordan strained to hear what she was saying, but she didn't want to set the Nycht off by reminding her of the presence of an Arpak. Kheko whispered into Toth's ear, and Toth stared at her in response.

  Kheko slapped the railing and gave Captain Segolan a nod. "You're free to pass. Good luck with your Operyn posting."

  The captain waved, and the sailors withdrew the planking once Kheko had passed back to the dome safely. The anchor was drawn up, and the ship's sails were loosed to catch the breeze and carry them to the nearest port at Lower Rodania.

  Jordan was at Toth's side in a flash. "What did she say?"

  Toth turned a concerned gaze on her.

  "Tell me." Jordan's heart felt cold at his expression. "Even if it's bad news."

  "She said he's in a state the machine registered as 'pre-death'."

  "No." Jordan shook her head fiercely. "She's wrong."

  Eohne, who had been observing all of this quietly, put a hand on Jordan's shoulder. "I'm not going to let him die. I can help him; I'm almost sure of it. All I need is time. Now that we know how to keep him from dehydrating and starving to death-—"

  "How much time, though?" Jordan turned to the Elf. "What do you need? Is there anything back in your lab that could help?"

  "I don't know yet," Eohne's expression turned thoughtful. Her hair lifted in the wind
as the ship picked up speed. "I just need time."

  Jordan crossed her arms and turned her face to the sun, closing her eyes. She let out a long breath and gathered herself. She'd never felt so helpless, so on the edge of a precipice without any clear course forward.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Eohne. "Sol's uncle Juer is the king's doctor. Perhaps we can ask if he's seen this before? He has a huge library, tons of references, and he's as old as the hills. It's worth a try, right?"

  Eohne nodded, squeezing her friend’s arm. "It's worth a try."

  •••

  Sol's apartment was empty when they arrived. Toth deposited Allan on the bed, and Eohne went about watering him, checking his vitals, setting out her strange tools, and scribbling formulas on paper.

  "Blue is not here," said Toth, emerging from the bedroom.

  "He's probably out hunting," Jordan replied. "He hunts all his own food."

  The sound of wings fluttering just beyond the apartment drew Toth and Jordan to the terrace. Jordan rushed ahead of the Nycht, expecting and hoping for Sol. She drew up short when it was someone she didn't recognize.

  A male Arpak with short black hair, glossy black feathers, and skin the color of cinnamon was holding steady just beyond the terrace. He wore two satchels criss-crossing his body, the same way Sol did. He had several knives strapped to his hips and one thigh. He surveyed them with dark eyes, homing in on Toth.

  "Are you Toth? Of the Charra-Rae Nycht rebels?" The Arpak's upper lip curled with a touch of sneer.

  A look of surprise crossed Toth's face. "I am. Who are you?"

  The Arpak retrieved a letter from inside a satchel. He swooped closer to the balcony but did not land. "I'm Modi, a courier for the Council. I have a delivery for you."

  Toth stepped to the edge of the stone terrace and took the letter. "Who would be sending me letters here?"

  "I'm just a courier." With a flat-mouthed nod, Modi flew away.

  "News travels fast." Jordan came to stand beside the Nycht. "Who is it from?"

  "I don't know." Toth tore the letter open and read, his gray eyes darting back and forth. His brows raised and he looked at Jordan, bemused. "It is from a Council member. A man named Balroc."