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Daughter of Lightning

Page 26

by Anna Logan


  It also seemed to be beckoning the men. They kept wandering by the fire at a languid pace, peering at the frying pan and its contents, while on trips to carry gear to the celiths or to move to the next chore.

  When Talea called, only a little hoarsely, that breakfast was ready, there was a line of eager patrons within seconds. With Alili’s help, she dished out a serving to everyone, before they took their own. Seasoning or no, it was easily the best breakfast she’d had since they’d left the Krims’ home.

  “Tarol,” Yhkon was the first one to break the stillness otherwise only interrupted by chewing and forks scraping, “you have my pardon for being stupid enough to rob a zorc nest.”

  Tarol snickered. “As I ought to have. Go ahead,” he set aside his empty plate and leaned back, hands behind his head, “you can thank me.”

  The lead Warden’s eyebrows rose in another smirk, eyes narrowed. “Pardoning your stupidity and thanking you for it are two very different things. One I will occasionally do. The other, kur.”

  “Cure?” Tarol echoed, giving him a look as if he were crazy.

  “Kur,” Grrake rolled his eyes, clearly humored. “It’s basically Sanonyan for no.”

  Talea was about to ask how long the two of them had lived in Sanonyn before going to Calcaria, but Yhkon was already standing up and addressing the group. “Let’s clean up and move out. We’ll reach the outpost this afternoon.”

  With that promise to spur them on, they got packed up in record time.

  They made it no more than a mile before she saw a streak of orange in her peripheral vision, heard a hideous squawking sound, and ducked, pulling Alili down with her. If the vibrant orange didn’t give it away, the squawking did. Zorcs.

  The high-pitched grind of swords being withdrawn from their scabbards came just before Tarol’s yelp. Then Yhkon’s snarl. “Still think robbing that nest was such a brilliant idea, genius?”

  “Sure was!” Tarol gasped back as he narrowly avoided having an eye gouged by the talons of the feathered assailant. He sputtered as it screeched again, not dissuaded by his swinging blade. With its wingspan being roughly ten feet, he was almost completely blocked from sight as it continued trying to shred him with its claws and beak. “How does it know it was me?!”

  “By your wretched smell, obviously!” Yhkon took a running leap, gaining enough height to hack down on the bird’s back. Haeric struck at its feet from the other side. Grrake remained back, sword ready, standing between the teenagers and the bird.

  Screaming loud enough to make Talea cover her ears with a wince, the creature took to the air, a flurry of feathers left in its wake. More feathers were stuck to Tarol’s clothes and there were scratches on his arms.

  The zorc hovered, flying circles just out of their reach. It was entirely black, except for the vivid orange of its beak and its savage eyes. Just as she was beginning to wonder what it planned to do, flying circles, another zorc came into view, screeching even more shrilly than the first one.

  Yhkon gave a harrumph as he stabbed his sword into the dirt, deep enough that it stuck. “Forget it. Wards!”

  That was all the more command Wylan and Ki needed. Two lightning bolts split the open air above the zorcs. One missed, but a third did the trick. Both birds fell shrieking to the ground. Against the black of their bodies, no burns were visible. By the way both of them writhed about, though, they were severely injured. Yhkon yanked his sword out of the ground and instead, plunged it into the belly of one, then the other. Talea cringed. When they still didn’t die, he struck again. The birds went still.

  Yhkon rotated back to where Tarol was picking feathers off himself with a prudish grimace. “That is why I didn’t congratulate you on robbing the nest!”

  “Alright, alright,” Haeric made a calming gesture, as he harvested a few feathers from the cuts on Tarol’s arm. “No harm done in the end, other than your arms. Nothing deep?”

  “No,” Tarol was glaring sulkily at Yhkon. He perked up, though, as Ki approached. “Did you see the size of that thing? Nearly had me for dinner. But then,” he grinned, flexing his bicep, “it would take a lot more than that to get past these muscles.”

  Ki snorted, giving the displayed arm a whack. “Ya mean it would take a lot more’n that to get past me an’ Wylan. You jes flailed yerself about an’ put up a squallor.”

  “I did no such thing! I was—”

  “Enough of your bickering.” Yhkon shook his head, a hint of mirth in his eyes. “I, for one, would like to reach the outpost before nightfall.”

  They continued on. Alili was lagging. As far as Talea knew she had only ever lived in caves and done the bidding of cave-dwelling masters, nothing like this kind of strenuous travel. Besides, she was only six years old. Talea picked her up and set her on her hip. But then she was lagging. Naylen caught up to her and, after getting silent permission from Alili, carried her instead.

  Yhkon and Grrake, without explanation, had dropped back from the head of the group. They were looking down at Grrake’s celith’s legs. “What is it?” she asked as they overtook them, voice cracking a little.

  “Lenjeya is limping.” Grrake crouched, running his hands down the length of Lenjeya’s front leg. “Some heat and swelling. Not too bad.”

  Yhkon felt it next. “No, but it could get worse if worked. We’ll rest for a bit, take her load off, and keep going.” He repeated the decision loud enough for everyone else to hear and stop. After unloading the gear Lenjeya carried and distributing it among the other celiths, there was nothing to do but rest, talk a little and snack on provisions.

  Talea found herself fighting to stay awake before long. By the way Kae’s head was nodding, and Naylen was blinking rapidly, she wasn’t the only one. “Go ahead,” Yhkon’s voice startled her. Last she’d seen, he’d been several yards away with Grrake, not seated beside her. “Get some sleep, if you can. We’ll probably stay a few hours.”

  You don’t have to ask me twice. She relaxed against the tree trunk she was leaned against, putting an arm around Alili. Closed her eyes. Tarol, Ki, and Grrake were conversing quietly. Their voices softened into a hum. The strain in her legs, in her back, loosened. She jerked to alertness as her bent legs started to fall over. After stretching them out flat, she closed her eyes again. Movement to her right let her know Yhkon had sat with his back to the same tree as her. Alili’s hair tickled her arm as the girl curled up on her left. The voices became a hum again. Birds singing. Drifting…

  At some point Yhkon left. At another point, Brenly took his place. Memories and images floated through her half-awake mind, of the Asyjgon, of mountains, of completely imagined and random situations. Movement or noise would occasionally draw her mind towards consciousness, but never fully. Not until she woke suddenly, confused. She was lying on the ground instead of against the tree now, Alili still nestled up against her, Naylen had joined them and his shoulder was Brenly’s pillow. Something was draped over her and Alili. A blanket.

  She didn’t have time for any more observations before Yhkon knelt beside her. “We’re going to get moving again, so go ahead and wake them up. And I guess I’ll take this back,” he smiled slightly, lifting the blanket off her and folding it over his arm as he left.

  Alili woke at a light touch. So did Naylen. Brenly, as usual, was a bit of a challenge. It took four nudges and her name repeated with increasing volume before she groggily sat up, and almost immediately blushed as she realized she’d been asleep on Naylen’s shoulder.

  They got up, just as Haeric was waking up the twins, Kae with her head on his shoulder too. Yhkon was bandaging Lenjeya’s leg, while Grrake stroked the mare’s neck and fondled her ears. When everyone finally got up and ready to go, he took the lead, and they continued.

  Talea squinted up at the sky. It was cloudy, but she could still locate the sun well enough to estimate the time as around four in the afternoon.

  Everyone was quieter than usual as they walked, even Ki. If they were all as tired as she was, it was
no wonder. As their path became a steady incline, the pace slowed even more. It looked as though they weren’t going to reach the outpost before nightfall after all.

  “Yhkon,” Tarol drew out the last syllable in an impatient whine. “Everyone’s tired. Lenjeya is still limping. We should go the shorter way.”

  Yhkon stopped walking. They were all plenty happy to do the same, waiting with dull interest for his answer. Why wouldn’t we take the shorter way, whatever that is? The lead Warden was glaring fiercely at Tarol. “We don’t go that way. You know that.”

  Tarol snorted. “Yeah, but what I don’t know is why. Besides. If we get a move on, we’ll be there in time to watch the sun set. It’s a gorgeous view up there, really.”

  Grrake had moved up from his position at the back of the group with Lenjeya, standing between Yhkon and Tarol. He looked anxious. “Tarol, there’s a reason we don’t go that way. It’s complicated. Let’s just—”

  “Oh, there’s a reason?” Tarol crossed his arms and threw his shoulders back with a sneer. “Good, then let’s hear it. Yhkon?”

  Any good humor, any geniality that had been in Yhkon’s countenance earlier, was gone. Left without a trace. In its place, an even deeper intensity and bitterness than usual. Without a word, he spun on his heel and started marching to the left of their previous direction. His gait was agitated, stiff with anger. Grrake followed with pain in his expression, Tarol with a smirk of triumph. The rest of them, uncertainly. Wondering what reason Yhkon had for avoiding a shortcut.

  The new route took them downward instead of up, a welcome change. The abundance of the trees began thinning out shortly before the forest disappeared altogether, leaving them at the base of a grassy knoll. Or at least that’s what she thought it was. “Come on,” Tarol motioned for them to hurry up. “We’re just in time.” He broke into a jog, traveling up the gentle rise. Though her body was reluctant to go any faster, her curiosity was stronger. She ran after him, along with the other teenagers.

  What she’d thought was the highest point of a small hill was, in fact, the edge of a cliff. A cliff that dropped down to sandy white beaches below and an unending expanse of water. She caught her breath in awe, a smile pulling at her lips. The ocean. It was a rich, shimmering turquoise rippling with white-tipped waves. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, painting a wedge of gold over the water and streaking the overhead clouds in amber and pink.

  “What did I tell you?” Tarol’s triumphant grin was even more so as he saw their reactions.

  Mirroring his grin, Talea spun to where Yhkon had last been. Surely he’d be appeased by the brilliance of the scene, he’d be impressed. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even looking at the view. He was walking away with his fists clenched and head down, back to the treeline.

  Concern dampened her wonder. What was wrong?

  Grrake broke away as well, going after the younger Warden. She bit her lip. Whatever it was…Grrake probably knew the story, and how to help, if there was a way. Maybe she’d ask Yhkon about it later. But for now, probably best to leave it.

  So she turned back to the breathtaking view before her, and gave wide-eyed Alili’s hand a squeeze.

  ~♦~

  Yhkon didn’t bother looking up as footsteps approached, or as his name was called quietly. He remained with his arms folded tightly over his chest, jaw set, glaring at the ground.

  “Yhkon,” Grrake said again as he caught up, this time imploring. Pitying.

  I don’t want your pity. “What.”

  “You know what,” came the quiet reply.

  He rotated slightly, so that his back was mostly to the older man. “I’m simply taking a moment to myself. What’s the problem with that?”

  Grrake undid his action by moving forward, so that they were facing one another again. “I don’t think you should seclude yourself. Keep it hidden. Shutting out everyone around you won’t help.”

  His fingernails dug into his palms as his arms and hands stiffened. “I don’t need help.”

  “Yhkon.” Grrake’s tone was so gentle, so caring. So infuriatingly caring. “Yes, you do. It’s okay to need help.”

  Yhkon jerked his chin up to glower at him. “No, it’s not. Because there isn’t such a thing as help for me. Whatever my problems are, I’m stuck with them. So, say your reassurances and well-wishes if it makes you feel better, but at some point can we acknowledge that it’s not going to make a difference? That it is what it is, and you might as well give up on fixing me?”

  His friend grimaced. It seemed that at least half of the things Yhkon said made him grimace. He felt sorry for Grrake, really. Someone as compassionate and kindhearted as Grrake wasn’t suited for a partnership with someone as resentful, as cruel…as hopeless and wretched as himself. Maybe it would be better for everyone—especially Grrake—if Yhkon could push him away. It would hurt him at first, but he’d be better off in the end. Problem is…I tried that, and he’s still here. The anger boiled up inside him again, taking the form of words that spilled out of his mouth before he even knew what they would be. “And don’t you dare say something about Narone. Or that ‘it’s not about fixing, it’s about healing.’ I don’t need a god who either was unable to stop what happened or let it happen, and I don’t need sage old words of comfort that aren’t true.”

  Grrake had averted his gaze, clearly having lost some of the meager confidence he possessed. “I understand,” he said finally.

  Yhkon glanced at him. It wasn’t an appeal to religion, or some wise words of comfort. The least he could do was show some gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “But I still want to help,” Grrake added. “In whatever ways I can.”

  I wish you wouldn’t. Because you can’t. He crossed his arms. Annoyance straightened his shoulders, while the appreciation that he couldn’t quite overcome made it impossible for him to snap something back. All he could get out was, “Fine.” Swallowed the constriction in his throat. “Let’s go.”

  18

  Inns and Maids

  T alea woke with a wooden ceiling above her.

  As simple as that, she smiled. Not since they’d stayed at the Krims’ home had she been in, let alone slept in, a legitimate wooden building. It had been stars, or tarps, or stone for a roof. And it had been one of the few nights she hadn’t had a nightmare about the Asyjgon.

  At first, she was tempted to remain in bed, to sleep in, something she could only remember doing on the occasional holiday as a child. Excitement, however, was greater than her desire to relax. She sat up and carefully got out of her bed on the floor—which was wooden, like the ceiling, not dirt or rock—so as not to disturb Alili. Brenly was still asleep, as could be expected. Kae, however, was not in the little room that had been assigned to the girls, so she must have already gotten up.

  With warmth not being nearly as big an issue, they had undressed for bed down to their light smocks that went under their dresses, rather than sleeping fully clothed. She put her gown back on, thinking how nice it would have been to have all clean clothes for once. Just a couple more days. After stepping into her boots and brushing out her hair, as well as taking advantage of the basin of water—which seemed like such a luxury after months without—to wash her face, she was ready to go.

  She walked outside the closed door, down the hallway, into the main room. The Wardens were all there, along with Kae, Naylen, Wylan, and Skoti, the outpost manager. She had liked him almost the moment they had arrived at the outpost the night before. He was a lanky man, with a mess of curly golden hair, a beard to match, and dancing eyes. He was currently talking with Haeric and Tarol, and all three were laughing. Grrake, Naylen, and Wylan were sitting together, and seemed to be discussing something, though casually. Kae was admiring a painting on the wall. Yhkon was sitting alone in the corner. He was leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, icy gaze fixed on nothing.

  He wasn’t exactly in an inviting posture, but she sat down next to him anyway. “Good morning. What’s that de
licious smell?”

  He looked at her, blankly. As if she’d interrupted some deep contemplation that he had to rouse himself from. “Oh,” he said after a moment. “It’s uh, it’s one of Skoti’s men making breakfast, I suppose.”

  She nodded. Searched for something to say next. “How early are we leaving?”

  “Um, an hour or two.”

  “And how long does it take to get to Calcaria, by lareer?”

  He flexed one of his hands. “Four days, but we stop at an island called Jalkiva halfway there and spend a night or two. Your parents and Nakelsie will have been transported there so they’ll be there to greet us.”

  She smiled, thinking of seeing her parents again. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d thought she’d never see her father again.

  Skoti disappeared into the kitchen and came back out to declare that breakfast was ready. Once Brenly, Alili, and Ki were woken up, everyone sat down at the table in the main room as the food was put before them. It was a bit cramped with all of them fitted around a table that was meant for eight or so. That seemed to make them all the merrier. Well, Yhkon was hardly merry, but everyone else was. Skoti added a healthy dose of cheer to the group. The two men that managed the outpost with him were plenty amiable too.

  And, the food was delicious. Talea ate as much as she could without bursting and without being entirely gluttonous.

  Afterwards, they helped clean up as much as their hosts would permit. Then it was time to pack. The celiths would be staying at the outpost to be moved to Calcaria on the next ship. So, everything was repacked to be carried by the lareers.

  Finally, it was time to go.

  Curiosity about the lareers had made her look hopefully at the massive stable behind the bunkhouse the night before. Since it had been so late when they’d arrived, they’d gone straight into the outpost to settle in. Now, she followed Yhkon excitedly as they went as a group to the enormous building.

  Skoti opened the doors—which were at least twelve feet tall and wide—and scurried inside in front of them. There was something mischievous about the way he did it. While they were still hesitating in the doorway, eyes adjusting to the dimness of the interior, he was unlatching something inside. Without warning, a giant white form was hurtling toward them.

 

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