Tor Lir shook his head. “There is no time.” He turned to Elbron. “Do you know where the weapons are? I need a sword.”
Citrine started, and her eyes roved over Tor Lir. It was true; he had lost his fur cloak and his bow and arrows, but why the sudden need for a weapon? A dark thought lodged deep in her mind, and words felt heavy in her mouth. “Why do you need a sword?”
Those emerald eyes were almost hostile, defiant when they met hers. “To get the Clyear back.”
14
Responsibility
Elbron’s head came up, and his eyes flashed as they glared at Tor Lir.
Citrine’s shrill voice echoed through the crypt. “You lost the Clyear?”
Tor Lir held up his hands as if to ward off Citrine’s anger. “You don’t have to shout at me. I’m well aware of how upsetting this news is, and I accept full responsibility. That’s why I have to go get it back.”
“From who? From where?” Citrine’s nostrils flared, and her face flushed. “What will Lord Nodin say when he finds out? It’s the entire reason he wanted us to come back here.”
Elbron shifted, and his head came up. His gaze roamed from Citrine to Tor Lir. “The Clyear of Revelation?”
Citrine stared at him. “Aye, he told you about it, did he?”
Elbron’s thick brows lowered, and his jaw tightened. “I’m beginning to think Lord Nodin hasn’t been truthful with either of you. He was always prone to deception and if I had to wager, he’s found a way to save the clans and put in a bid for himself as ruler of the Therian.”
Tor Lir stared and Citrine’s jaw dropped open at the accusation. She racked her brain. Did Elbron’s accusation fit with what she’d seen of Nodin’s character? She recalled Sanga Sang. Nodding had used Zilpha to do his dirty work instead of handling it himself. He’d tried to extort herself and Tor Lir once he’d found the Clyear of Revelation. And then there was the matter of trust. Should she trust the word of Elbron—regardless of his rugged looks and the scar that made him darkly attractive—or the word of Nodin, who had brought them here? Brow furrowed, she considered their options.
“Speak clearly,” Tor Lir demanded, his tone as frosty as the stale air of the crypt. “What do you know?”
Elbron studied Tor Lir. Then his amber eyes met Citrine’s lemon-yellow ones. He needed to know if he could trust them. And why should he? Nothing had been said or done to encourage him to confide in them, except that they were there to help. According to Lord Nodin. Citrine still cringed when she recalled the battle and her unwillingness to assist with the ongoing feud the Therian had with their neighbors. Was it really her place to interfere? She simply wanted to solve the mystery that shrouded the Therian and return to her own agenda.
“The truth is, there is no one left to be the rightful ruler of the Therian.” Elbron’s deep tones echoed through the silence. “Those who ruled the clans left years ago, during the Great War between the mortals and immortals. They gave their allegiance to the Rulers of the West and dwell in Castle Range in peace. It was said in the early years they used to return to visit, but now they have left us to fend for ourselves, and the grip of darkness comes again. Nodin found the Clyear. And I know not what visions he’s seen through it, but I believe it showed him how to create events to his benefit so he could return as a ruler and hero.”
“What about the creatures that are going mad?” Tor Lir asked.
His posture and tone reminded Citrine of when she’d first met him. He’d seemed cold and arrogant, and there were hints of it again. He was shutting down. Was it because of Hava’s death or losing the Clyear?
Elbron’s scar glinted in the pale light as he looked away. “I don’t know.”
It was too soon to have this conversation. Citrine took a step toward Tor Lir and changed the topic. “How did you lose the Clyear? Who has it?”
It was Elbron who interrupted, gesturing to what was left of Tor Lir’s shirt. “It was the Frost Queen, wasn’t it?”
Citrine dropped her eyes to examine Tor Lir’s arms again. She’d had questions when he first appeared, but the news of Hava’s death had been too pressing to keep to herself. While his skin underneath his clothes was smooth and unblemished, his sleeves were in shreds as though they had been sliced through again and again. His tunic was torn in places, and the dark stain of blood covered his stomach. A cold shudder went down her spine, but the anger in Tor Lir’s face told her he did not need her sympathy.
“Aye. She deceived me. When I tried to leave her presence, she attacked me with a sword.”
Citrine snorted. “I thought you had a better read on people. You read their auras. You’re supposed to be the Nameless One, not someone who succumbs to queens.”
The reaction was so swift, Citrine couldn’t move. Tor Lir’s hand shot out, closing around her forearm so tightly she thought her bone would snap. He yanked her up against his chest and glared down at her, his breath hot and eyes murderous. “Do not laugh at what you know nothing about. Enchantress.” He threw her name at her, unashamed to reveal her secret in front of Elbron.
Citrine stared at him, shock reverberating through her body. For just a moment her vision changed, and she thought she saw horns and red eyes, glaring at her. A scream of terror rose in her throat, and then he tossed her away so violently she almost fell. Elbron’s arm caught her about the waist. His chest was solid, safe as she leaned against him, catching her ragged breath.
Anger faded from Tor Lir’s face. He ran a hand through his dark hair almost sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Elbron. Where is the armory? We cannot delay.”
Citrine clung to Elbron, the fight knocked out of her. One question rang in her mind, a question she had asked before. Was Tor Lir evil? What did the Truth Tellers know? Why wouldn’t he tell her about his shadow?
“It’s too dark to venture near the Frost Queen’s domain. Her creatures see at night and do her bidding. Nay. It would be wise to return in daylight.”
“Darkness does not bother me,” Tor Lir protested. “Besides, I cannot rest until I have my revenge.”
Revenge. An odd word for Tor Lir to use. Citrine regained her footing and lifted her chin, narrowing her eyes at Tor Lir. “I agree with Elbron. We should rest, regain warmth. And you need some new furs. Stay here and keep vigil for the night, I care not. If you are going to get the Clyear back, I will come with you in the morning. You promised I could look into it. I intend to hold you to your promise.” She moved toward the entrance of the crypt, artfully closing the conversation. “And Tor Lir.” She glanced back at his dangerous emerald eyes. “Don’t touch me like that ever again, or I will make what the Frost Queen did to you seem like child’s play.”
Without waiting for his response, she marched away into the darkness with Elbron’s heavy footfalls behind her.
15
Sore
Zilpha opened her eyes. Her lids were heavy and her throat, thick, sore. An ache pulsed in her nose and crept up her hairline. She was cold. Oh, so cold. Even though Lord Nodin had piled fur after fur on the bed, she could not stop shivering. It was the cold, the terror, and death. Again, she recalled the pale face of Hava, shock and terror still etched on her unseeing gaze. Zilpha's fingers shook, and her stomach convulsed. What had she gotten herself into?
At first, she thought it would be easy to leave her home in Sanga Sang and travel to the mountains. After all, Lord Nodin's words had tugged on her heartstrings, and she was desperate for love and protection. Once she heard his side of the story, she’d forgiven Nodin for his mistakes. Despite his cryptic actions, he had a good heart. It was noble of him to desire to save his people and take back his kingdom.
But the kingdom of ice was unfriendly and frightening. She wanted nothing more than to return to the peace of Sanga Sang with the weekly marketplace and the Jaded Sea often in sight. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she thought of her young brother, Bram, and his new wife—her best friend—Mathilda. Why hadn't she stayed with them? The adve
nture was nothing like she'd imagined. Her body was cold and weary. Citrine and Tor Lir seemed nothing more than dark clouds of doom glowering at each other before sneaking off to scheme and plan. And Nodin—Lord Nodin—was the most curious of them all. He was often distracted, distant, and moody. Could she still trust him?
Toying with indecision, she peeked out of the covers and gave a sigh of relief when she realized Nodin must have slipped out earlier. Her gazed flicked across the small room. Aside from the furs that covered the bed and the floor, it was bare and gloomy. A lone candle twinkled in an alcove, giving her no reference of time. But it was the muffled voices that gave her pause.
"Where did they go?" Nodin's deep tones came through the other side of the wall.
Zilpha strained her ears, for the response was lower and she almost missed it.
“They armed themselves and set off at sunup. The tracks lead north. You know what is up there.”
“Aye,” Nodin concurred. “Do nothing but watch. See that they return. We cannot mount an attack against her. What about the wild ones?”
“Secured in the dungeons below us, but they will not hold. We cannot keep track of all those who turn wild. What happens when the frenzy grows and they break loose? We should be far from here or else they will swallow us alive.”
“Calm yourself. I have returned to resolve this problem and save us from further death.”
The other voice turned unfriendly and cold. “I am well aware of what you think you will do. Be sure you follow through and don't end up running away in disgrace again.”
There was a snarl. “Run? How dare you bring up the past when someone among us is a traitor.”
There was a pause and then a snort. “Nodin, the accusations you make are dangerous. What makes you think there is a traitor?”
“You were out there yesterday, weren’t you? Patrolling the borders, ready to escape myself and my friends back here, to Stronghold. You saw the archers, didn’t you? Saw who they were? We had an alliance and they turned against us. Why? I only sent word of my coming here, to the Therian. How did they know about us? How did they find out so quickly?”
“Look to your Xctas, but do not bring accusations here! The Therian are nothing but loyal—”
“And wild,” Nodin cut off the other voice. “Wild and ruthless, aren’t we? Someone does not want me here, and I intend to find out who.”
“Then you should know there are those who would follow you, but there are also whispers. Last time you came, the wildness started. Be on guard. . . .”
The voices drifted farther away and Zilpha cowered under the blankets, body trembling, but this time in fear as well as from sickness. Thoughts churned. Was what the other male said true? Did Lord Nodin have enemies among the Therian? Was he disgraced? She thought she knew him, despite the many faces he had shown her. But during their journey to Stronghold, she'd seen the way he stared at Citrine and Tor Lir, as though he wanted to open their skulls and rip thoughts out of their minds. She saw the way he commanded the Xctas and the Therian during the scrimmage with the other mountain folk. Above all, she knew it was not safe to be in Stronghold, where wild creatures—like the one that had been killed in Sanga Sang—threatened to break free.
A sob tore out of her throat, and she clasped the furs over her head as she recognized Lord Nodin’s need. He was attracted to power. He longed to be in charge, control his fate and the fate of others. Wasn’t that why he forced her to find the Clyear? And pulled Citrine and Tor Lir—two powerful unknowns—into the journey with them? Darker thoughts plagued her mind. Did he really need their help? And what about the Clyear of Revelation? He hadn’t looked at it since she’d returned it to him, and he even let Tor Lir carry it. If it was such a precious relic, Nodin should protect it, keep it safe. Instead it was out there in the wild, where Tor Lir had fallen.
Shadows of fear blurred Zilpha’s eyes. She lay down and pressed her lips together to hold back tears. Why had she joined them? She did not want to be part of death and destruction. She just wanted to go home.
16
Therian
Frosty air tingled in Tor Lir's throat. Lifting a hand, he shaded his eyes against the glare of sunlight shining on snow. They'd started off at dawn with swords in hand. Tor Lir had scowled, unimpressed with the armory. He'd been expecting something like what Novor Tur-Woodberry had, forgetting that the Therian were part beasts, and often claws and teeth substituted well for spears, swords, and arrows. He clutched the long blade in one hand and gritted his teeth, thinking again of the Frost Queen and how she’d deceived him. There was much about the lore of the world he did not know. Who was the Frost Queen? Some sort of Therian, that much was clear. But why didn't she live at Stronghold? What was her story, and why did she need the Clyear of Revelation so badly?
Tor Lir shook his head to clear his mind of the things he’d seen in the Clyear. As he did so, a single thought warred in his body. He could call for his shadow, for he held more power than he realized and his alter self—his shadow—seemed to know much more about it. Tor Lir chewed his lower lip, and a surge of anger went through him. He gripped the sword hilt tighter and thought of Hava's dead face. Hava had deserved better than a death on the mountains, and if he hadn’t wooed her, hadn’t kissed, she might have stayed in Sanga Sang instead of coming on this dangerous quest with him. She was different from Citrine. Gentle, willing to listen and include him in her decisions. His jaw tightened. Hava had believed in him. She saw his good side, his desire to help others and protect the balance between good and evil. He’d lost sight of the precious gift of her company. He’d taken it for granted and hadn’t done enough to protect her. If only he’d talked to the Truth Tellers, told them he did not accept their offer.
A cold shudder went through him, and he glanced at Citrine, who walked ahead with Elbron. Strands of blue hair peeked out from her fur, and she walked with an easy gait, staying close to Elbron’s hulking form. Regret tasted like ash in his mouth. He’d lost control with her last night, and her anxious aura told him she was still upset, and with good reason. He never should have handled her in such a manner, but the future was shining bright, loud and unknown, and a hidden thought flickered in his mind.
Who was he? Where did he come from? What was his name? Who was his father?
What happened in the past that shaped his future? He knew it was something big, and it had something to do with the Changers who wreaked havoc on the Four Worlds. Was he blood of their blood? A chill ran through him at the thought, and he almost heard the voices of the Truth Tellers. You. Alone. Have the power. But you walk away from it. You resist. Go to Daygone. Read the book of your people. Take up the cloak of knowledge. . .
But what if he didn't want to know? Citrine's words rang again in his mind. What if he was evil? What if he'd misunderstood his task? His shadow was dark, something from the underworld that should not be seen. It was his shadow he needed to protect the world from, for it was dark, seemingly with a mind of its own. Doubts flickered in his thoughts along with a deep-seated hunger for intense power. What did he truly desire?
When he looked down, a green glimmer shone about his fingers. He focused on it, and an undercurrent rippled through him, warm, like the first flame of fire, gentle, soft, but with the potential for so much more. He recalled the wild currents of the Jaded Sea. What if there was something inside of him that would be uncontrollable when released?
“Elbron.” The gentle tones of Citrine’s voice cut through his musing. “Tell me about the Therian. How did they become shifters?”
An unsaid word hung in the air. Shifters. Changers. Tor Lir swallowed his thoughts and focused on stomping through the light dusting of snow, one footfall after the other. His ears pricked to hear Elbron’s response.
The Tider shrugged his burly shoulders; he looked like a hulking giant with his bear-like furs and scarred face. “It is how it has been since Creation. We were born in the mountains, and legend says in order to survive the intense cold and br
utal elements of winter, we changed our shape to take on the likeness of the beasts who dwell up here in the mountains. Bulls. Bears. Wolves are the most popular. There are some of our kind who cannot transform, and we drive them out, for if they cannot shift, they cannot survive up here. It is better they go to warmer lands. During the war, the clans suffered, and there were those who claimed an evil power came to walk in the midst of the Therian and gained them with her blood. Ever since, unsought massacres have sprung up, and entire clans have been slain. The Therian were forced to take the Tribe of Minas as brides to ensure the line of the Therian continued, and even then, there were those who were born without the ability to shift. Some claim it is because of the mixing of blood between the Therian and the Tribe of Minas that this curse had come upon us.”
“Blended Ones and Purebloods,” Citrine mused. “But didn’t the war address those issues? Aren’t people groups free to mix with each other? Do you believe the curse is because of mixed blood?”
Elbron shrugged. “It is doubtful there are pureblooded Therian left. Most have mixed their blood with others, for during the war the old died off or were slain, leaving the young, those with mixed blood, to uphold the traditions of elder days. We have Stronghold, but the respect of our clan is dying out, and our enemies see we are weak. They come to take what is rightfully ours.”
Citrine made a small sound in her throat as though she disagreed. A moment of silence followed, and Tor Lir glanced at her back, curious to hear where the conversation would go next. He wanted to ask questions of his own. Who was the lady with hints of evil power who walked among the Therian?
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