Shards of History

by Rebecca Roland

  He pulled them both underwater. The strap dug deeper into his neck. The woman would not give up. Strange how at the end of his life he found a woman who surprised him.

  His lungs burned, and the urge to cough overcame him, but he fought it. A different sort of gray tinged the water’s murkiness. He would die soon. He strove to pull himself and the woman down deeper. She would die too.

  Bright lights like stars exploded in his vision. Through the murky haze images came towards him. They were people he’d known: his imposing father who’d died trying to take position as Most Worthy when Kushtrim was eight years old, the man he had killed when he became Most Worthy, Gerwyn, Okpairo, his grandson. They whispered for him to join them, and he gladly reached for them.

  Some part of his mind knew when the strap loosened from his neck. It was too late, though. There was no coming back from the journey he’d just begun. Death was upon him.

  His body floated lazily through the water. The images faded. Sad to see them go, he sought them out. Instead, the harsh light of day flooded his eyes. He tried to close them but couldn’t. He couldn’t move any part of his body.

  The gray haze clouded his vision again, blocking the light. But just before it did, Kushtrim had the perfect view of dragons and Maddion—his Maddion—filling the sky as they rained flames down on the woods. And the barrier, having begun to rise and repair itself before, was tumbling down again.

  We won.

  Joy filled Kushtrim’s heart as he slipped into nothingness.

  Chapter 26

  When the Maddion’s grip on her loosened, Malia squirmed from his hands, withdrew the leather strap, and bolted for the water’s surface where she took in a long, deep breath.

  Something was very wrong.

  The rotten egg smell of the springs was still there, but so was something else—smoke and burning wood, and beneath it, a hint of burning flesh. And screams. People were screaming in the woods.

  She scrambled onto land, dripping water everywhere. One of her leather shoes had come off. She kicked off the remaining one so it wouldn’t slow her down if she needed to run.

  The Maddion’s body floated to the surface. He stared blindly up, his coiled ropes of hair swirling around him in the water like snakes. He had died with a tiny smile on his face. Malia shuddered. Although glad he couldn’t threaten her or her people any more, a sour taste filled her mouth as she recalled the way he’d fought for life, the way his body had weakened and then stopped moving because of her.

  Dragons filled the hazy sky. They flew so low that they whipped the treetops, and the wind they stirred up brushed against Malia. Those in the near distance set fire to everything as they passed.

  The trees began to slowly spin around Malia, and her stomach did a long, slow flop. Then the trees, sparse in this section of the forest, pressed in on her until she felt as though they’d crush her. She couldn’t draw a deep enough breath as the screams of Taakwa and Jeguduns rose to shrieks filled with pain and fear, ripping through Malia like a blade. The dragons were burning them all where they stood defenseless as they worked to repair the barrier, which had begun falling again. Shards of the barrier whirled through the air like thick snow flakes driven in a blizzard.

  She ran blindly through the woods. Her heart pounded so hard and fast she feared it might stop altogether. Her lungs and legs ached as she drove herself to get away from the fires that dotted the forest. Thick smoke filled the air ahead of her. She breathed in and coughed, her throat burning and raw. She bolted to one side where the woods were clearer. Get out, get out, get out, her mind yelled at her.

  A burning branch fell in her path. Malia yelped and leapt over it. For a moment, heat bathed her. Then she left it behind. She kept moving.

  Hands seized her and shoved her to the ground. A heavy body pinned her.

  She lashed out. Her fingernails came into contact with flesh and dug in. She’d killed one Maddion, she could kill another.

  A man cried out in pain and then grabbed her wrists.

  “Malia,” he cried out. “Malia, it’s Rasmus. Malia.”

  She blinked a few times, clearing the smoky haze from her vision. Rasmus’s familiar shorn head and scarred face came into focus.

  “I thought you were one of them,” she gasped.

  “You’re heading right into the worst of it. We have to go this way, towards the river.”

  The heart of the fire glowed through the trees as if the sun itself had come down from the sky and strode through the woods. Malia let out a whimper as she recalled the panicked deer in the woods that had leapt right into that other fire. All those men and Jeguduns…

  “What about the men, and the Jeguduns?”

  The grim set to Rasmus’s mouth told her it was too late for them. She bit on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood and focused on the pain, otherwise her sorrow might overwhelm her and hold her to this spot.

  She let Rasmus pull her up and lead her in a run.

  “What about Enuwal?” Her heart lurched in a way that had nothing to do with her running.

  “Tall, lanky? The healer?”

  “Yes.”

  “He tried to help. I grabbed him and convinced him he couldn’t tend so many people while the fire was out of control. So I sent him ahead to the river.”

  Malia couldn’t help the sob of relief. And Vedran apparently was part of another group, not among those in these woods.

  Except, nobody would be safe if the barrier didn’t go back up.

  “What do we do about the barrier?”

  “What can we do? Those who were willing to help are dead or dying. Our only choice is to escape.”

  She yanked her arm free of his grip. “And leave everybody to be slaughtered while the valley is burning down around them?”

  “You’ve done all you can. Save yourself, or you’ll die like all the rest.”

  She shook her head. “There’s got to be something we can do.” She had to try to save her home.

  “We can run.” He grabbed her arm and began pulling her along again.

  Malia’s mind raced along with her body. There had to be something else to bring the shattered pieces of the barrier back together. What could be stronger than the magic the Jeguduns and Taakwa produced?

  If only she could seal the pieces back together as she’d tried to do with the deer effigy bowl. But all she’d been able to do with that had been to crush the pieces fine with the intent of mixing them in with new material. That perfect color, tinged with her blood, had been wasted.

  Her blood. Taakwa blood.

  She pulled up short again. When Rasmus began to speak, she held up a finger to silence him, bowed her head and closed her eyes, and let the idea run.

  The Maddion had used Jegudun and Taakwa blood to break down the barrier. They’d taken only one boy, they couldn’t have needed that much blood to destroy the barrier. What if the same amount of blood could counteract what the Maddion had done?

  Her eyes flew open. “I have an idea. Come on.”

  She sketched it out for Rasmus as they ran to the river.

  * * *

  At the edge of the woods, they paused. Tuvin’s Falls crashed into a wide, deep pool about two hundred paces away, and a fine mist rose from it. When the wind blew just right, a smattering of drops touched Malia’s face, but the wind couldn’t quite clear the stench of fire and death, nor could it carry away the screams of men and Jeguduns dying. The sounds and smells would fill Malia’s nightmares as long as she lived.

  “Where’s Enuwal?” she asked.

  “I left him in a cave.” Rasmus pointed towards a dark opening near the pool. “I figured he’d be safer in there.”

  No Maddion dotted the sky here, and there weren’t any Jeguduns in sight.

  “We need Jeguduns,” Malia said. “And a way to the top of the cliffs.”

  “There’s a trail leading up.” Rasmus pointed again.

  Malia could just make out a jagged line that zigzagged its way up the cliff f
ace. Her stomach flipped as she imagined climbing that narrow path in clear view of any passing Maddion. A dragon could simply pass by and set them ablaze.

  “That’s the only way up?” she asked.

  “It is, unless you sprout wings.”

  “And Jeguduns?”

  “We can draw perhaps two from the fighting, maybe three at most. But there’s no guarantee we can draw any of them away long enough to help us. And the Maddion might get suspicious if some of them suddenly left.”

  She nodded and stood straighter, trying to project a certainty she did not feel. Her idea had sounded good only moments before, but facing that cliff and that climb made it seem flimsy at best. Still, she needed to try it, for her people’s sake.

  She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  They darted through waist-high grass towards the cave’s opening. Malia’s back prickled as she expected a large, dark shadow to overtake her at any moment, followed by a blast of heat as a dragon let loose a stream of fire. She choked back a sob of relief when they made the safety and coolness of the cave.

  Inside the cave, torches squatted in sconces in regular intervals along the wall, revealing that it led deeper into the rock. Enuwal paced just inside. A wide grin broke out on his face when he spotted her. He rushed forward and took her in his arms, holding her so tight she had trouble drawing a deep breath.

  Malia sagged against him, welcoming the comfort of his arms. She returned his embrace with a tight squeeze of her own. For a brief moment, she let the fighting fade and allowed Enuwal’s presence to ease her sore heart and body. If they raised the barrier, she had time with Enuwal to look forward to. She vowed to spend an entire day in his embrace, getting up only when she must.

  Then, reluctantly, she pulled back but kept her hands in his.

  “I was so worried about you,” Enuwal said. “I nearly left this cave several times to go looking for you.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad you’re safe.” She paused. “Did any of the others escape?”

  “Some did. When the dragons started setting fire to the woods—clan mother have mercy on us, but then I understood what you and Rasmus had gone through with that fire, and I wish I hadn’t—I couldn’t believe the Taakwa and Jeguduns didn’t seem to realize what was happening. I started running from one pair to another and yanking them apart, then told them to run.”

  Rasmus said, “I was one of them. He could have let me burn, but he didn’t.”

  “I knew that Malia trusted you.”

  “By then,” Rasmus said, “Some of the men and Jeguduns had been caught by the fire. Enuwal tried to save them, but they were beyond help.”

  “Some weren’t,” he said quietly.

  “Staying put would have only gotten you killed along with the rest, and your knowledge is too valuable to risk.”

  Malia had the sense they were rehashing an old argument. She held up a hand to stop them from bickering on. “So some escaped. And now we’re here. I’ve told Rasmus my idea for repairing the barrier.”

  “Oh?” Enuwal asked.

  She outlined her idea about Taakwa and Jegudun blood possibly repairing the barrier since it had been used to destroy it in the first place. Lines creased Enuwal’s forehead as she spoke. When she finished, he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  “What if it does the opposite?” he asked. “What if more blood degrades it further?”

  “At this point, there’s nothing else we can do to help. And if we do nothing, the Maddion will destroy the valley. I don’t see how hastening the barrier’s destruction could make the situation worse.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe Rasmus has a point. Maybe we should escape while we can.”

  Malia threw her hands up. “Why does everybody else want to give up and run? Why am I the only one who cares what happens to our people and the Jeguduns?”

  Enuwal squirmed. “It’s not that I don’t care, but there are so many Maddion, and their weapons are better than ours. We’re unprepared for them.”

  “Did the Jeguduns just give up on us years ago? They could have easily flown to safety and left us at the Maddions’ mercy.”

  Red flushed his cheeks and neck. “There’s a time for fighting and a time to retreat.”

  She let out a huff of air. “I can’t believe you. Either of you. I need to be alone for a moment.”

  She walked deeper into the cave, crossing her arms against the chill that grew as she moved farther in. The walls closed in and the ceiling dropped until she had to duck her head to keep moving. She felt as if she carried the weight of all the rock above her. It wasn’t until she passed the first of what looked like branches off the main section that she recognized the place from Vacir’s memory.

  This was where they kept Jeguduns that had broken their laws. This was where the female that had tried to take that boy ended up.

  She paused. In the silence came the scuffle of talons against stone and the steady breathing of several Jeguduns. Did they have any idea what was happening outside? They must. And where were the guards?

  Fighting, of course, she answered herself. Leaving the prisoners alone in this cave. Where could they go? They couldn’t fly away, and if they tried to escape on foot, they’d become the Maddions’ victims in moments. They were vulnerable.

  And perhaps some of them would be willing to help Malia.

  She needed Jegudun blood. Surely at least one of them would want to help. One of them would be willing to make that treacherous climb to the top of the cliffs with her.

  She yanked a torch free from its sconce and went to the first opening. Thrusting the light into the small space, she found a raven-black Jegudun cowering in the far corner. He squinted in the sudden light and hissed, baring his teeth.

  “Do you know what’s going on out there? Do you know about the fighting?” she asked, her voice echoing slightly.

  The Jegudun hissed again. His eyes were white-rimmed and filled with more than a little madness. Malia backed away from him quickly.

  She ducked into the next opening and found the tiny room empty. In the next a torch had nearly burned out but still revealed a female with beige and white feathers. She lay on one side. When Malia shone the light on her and spoke, the female simply stared straight ahead as if she didn’t hear or see her.

  Her hopes began to sink along with her heart. What if they were all like those two?

  She went to the next room, wondering what she’d find waiting for her.

  Despite a strong flame from the room’s torch, the air was cold and stale. And sitting against the far wall was the tan female that had tried to take the boy and then attacked Tuvin. Her head hung down against her chest as if she’d fallen asleep.

  Malia froze in the doorway. This Jegudun wouldn’t want to help. She’d tried taking a Taakwa boy, just as the other Jeguduns had taken one to the Maddion. She’d wanted to help the Maddion, not her own kind or the Taakwa.

  The Jegudun’s head came up. A glimmer of tears lined the bottom of her eyes. She trilled mournfully.

  Did she cry for her recently lost freedom and wings, or for something else? Malia stepped cautiously into the room, ready to jump back just in case this one tried to attack her.

  “Do you know what’s going on outside?”

  The Jegudun nodded.

  “Is it what you wanted? Are you glad the Maddion have broken into the valley?” The anger in her voice echoed in the small space.

  The tears spilled over and wet the down on her cheeks. She hung her head again. She certainly didn’t seem happy that the Maddion had broken through the barrier.

  “I know who you are. You tried to help the Maddion. You attacked another Jegudun and left him for dead when he kept you from taking that little boy. That’s why you’re in here. Why did you do it?”

  She raised her head and held out a hand.

  Malia hesitated. It could be a ploy to get her closer so the Jegudun could attack her. But she seemed truly distraught. Malia co
uld leave and try to find another Jegudun in the caves who might help, or she could try to pull one away from the fighting. But Rasmus had a point. If Jeguduns suddenly left the fighting for no apparent reason, it might draw the Maddions’ suspicion, and they could very well follow them. And how would she grab a Jegudun’s attention anyway if he or she was in the midst of battle? This one might be Malia’s only chance.

  She set her torch in an empty sconce on the far wall, then settled on the cold stone floor near the Jegudun. Her muscles tensed, ready to send her to her feet and racing away.

  But the female simply took her hand. It was leathery and supple and cool. Malia’s gaze swung to the freshly clipped wing nearest her. The bandages had come off, revealing scabs and dried blood tangled in some of the feathers. She turned from the sight, slightly nauseous.

  Something tugged at her mind, and then she was in the Jegudun’s memory. She was in a large tent, the air stifling, ropes binding her wings and extremities and snout. Three other Jeguduns were tied up with her. Standing before them was the Maddion Malia had fought earlier. Her pulse stuttered. It’s just a memory, he’s dead, he can’t hurt you. He regarded the Jeguduns as if he looked upon a heap of animal droppings.

  The tent flaps had been pulled back. Outside, a Jegudun, his wings still bound, hobbled away as quickly as he could. The female Jegudun tried to turn away, but harsh hands grabbed the back of her head and forced her to look as a dragon snatched the other Jegudun in its mouth and began ripping him to shreds. The creature’s screams pierced through Malia.

  The female sat helpless as she watched her friend killed and eaten. Her stomach roiled with grief and rage. She wanted to tear free of her bonds and dig her talons into the Maddion that had ordered this, spilling his intestines as her friend’s had been spilled. She relished the thought of lapping up his blood and making him watch as death slowly drew a curtain over his eyes.

  A sob built in the Jegudun’s throat and caught there. Hot tears built up along the rims of her eyelids. She swallowed down the knot and blinked back the tears. She would not give these heathens the satisfaction of knowing what they did to her.