The Sah'niir Read online

  "That's probably for the best," Kienza sighed. "Nothing would draw attention like bronze skin and snow-white hair."

  "But we can't keep leaving her outside. Could she not be disguised?"

  "She would have to either be fully covered, which would be suspicious in the summer, or her skin darkened, which would mark her out as..." she smiled bitterly, "different. Xenophobia is popular at the moment."

  "Could magic not--"

  The dull thud of a foot stamping indignantly against dirt turned all their attention. Eyila all but glowered. "I said I do not want to enter your cities! I will not taint my culture, and I will not hide my skin! With magic or anything else!" Though she pulled the oversized cloak tighter about her small, cold frame as she said so.

  Garon began to object to her logic, but Kienza silenced him with a sharp gesture. She stepped towards her, dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but the girl didn't shrink away. An all-seeing gaze gripped her, her soul read through her eyes, and the others watched as she straightened in defiance, laying bare her every thought and emotion where the others had fidgeted in discomfort and secrecy.

  After a long, silent moment, Kienza smiled with satisfaction. "Yes. Something to be envied, indeed."

  A flicker of bewilderment passed briefly over Eyila's unpainted features, but a smile shortly slipped into place, and she bowed her head. Kienza returned it, to everyone's surprise, with the wind tribe's own courtesy, sending the briefest waft of breeze from the tips of her fingers as she swept them sharply away from her forehead. "Saya'a lo toa."

  The girl suddenly paled, and her eyes darted away.

  Anthis noticed but said nothing.

  The sorceress stepped back and looked across them all, certainly evaluating some conclusion or another, and when she spoke, Rathen, who was indeed still listening despite himself, couldn't decide if she sounded more curious or determining. "What do you intend to do?"

  "We're heading south," Garon declared formally. "There are a few places in the Korovor Woodlands to check out."

  "You're moving on?" Her gaze slipped onto Rathen at the back, who was still focused upon Aria and outwardly ignoring the conversation. "I see..." She returned to the others. "There are a handful; Korovor and the Eswolds are among the worst affected areas of the country. There are untold numbers of elven ruins hidden in those forests, and the concentration of the magnetism has drawn a great deal of power into them."

  "It's no wonder the wildlife is so upset."

  "Indeed, Mister Karth, indeed. And so I urge you all to be careful."

  And then, all too easily, she moved away to join Rathen and Aria at the back, clearly if abruptly finished with her wisdom and without any intention of providing more detailed advice.

  She knelt beside them, embraced them once more, but just as she was about to speak, they both interrupted in protest.

  "Do you have to leave?" Aria's puffy blue-grey eyes glinted in the finest stream of moonlight, and Kienza felt her heart grow heavy. It all but dropped into her stomach when she found the same glimmer in Rathen's. She hesitated, then smiled fondly.

  "No, sweetheart, I really don't."

  Chapter 10

  Aria was asleep within minutes. Listless, overwhelmed, and in the safest place the girl could imagine, she'd curled up beside her father beneath the shadow of a chestnut tree while the others had set up camp, her doll clutched tightly in her arms, and almost immediately succumbed to exhaustion.

  Kienza set the child's bag down among the roots and smiled at the notched wooden sword Rathen turned over in his hands. But her perfect lips drew into a pout when she saw the sorrow in his eyes. "It's been on her hip the whole time."

  The slightest breath of a chuckle slipped out as he nodded, but his dismal expression remained stubbornly unbroken. Then it seemed to grow even worse. "The whole time. Even...?"

  Kienza nodded sadly and settled gracefully down beside him. "She must've looked so--"

  "I can imagine how she looked clearly enough."

  She bit her lip as he tossed the sword aside and buried his face in his knees, then looked up again a moment later in exasperation. She knew he was aware of her analytical gaze, and that he didn't like it, but rather than tell her to stop, he simply turned his head away to watch Aria sleep. The campfire slowly bloomed into life, revealing the constant knotting of his jaw. But she could have read him even had they been sitting in abyssal darkness. He was aching, distressed, and he was surprised by it, but he was making no effort to even consider the matter let alone face it. He pushed it away without even a glance, throwing his attention onto Aria instead.

  Finally, her gaze slipped after his, and they both listened to the sound of her deep, rhythmic breathing, waiting for the giggle that always accompanied her sleep. It didn't come.

  "Where did you rush off to before?" Rathen looked towards her, his eyes dark and resigned. "Weren't you supposed to be dealing with the source?"

  "I still am, so to speak."

  He bared his teeth in frustration, but shoved it aside. "Did I not destroy Khry's Glory?"

  "No, you did," she smiled defusingly, "and there were things I had to see to regarding that very matter. The magic is still spreading out and magical interference is exacerbating it, and there are even more cracks dividing this already valley-riddled country - but you have cut off the source."

  "And mages?" He surveyed the camp but found only Anthis sat beside the young fire, peering, as always, through scrolls and notebooks. "What about its influence on them?"

  "It is still having an effect," she replied regretfully, following his gaze to find Eyila nowhere in sight, no doubt meditating while the duelist and inquisitor set to their usual if presently needless scouting. "And it may be worse since you've unleashed the magic. A flurry escaped each time the door was opened, but when you destroyed the place, a great torrent was freed as it compressed, until the walls drew together just enough to seal the gaps and take what remained with its own obliteration.

  "Mages tormented by the loose, microscopic spell chains were initially being pulled towards Dolunokh - though they would never have reached it from here before its maddening influence got the better of them. But now that Khryu'vahz has been destroyed, rather than hypnotically following the trail back to the magic's source, they're gathering at affected sites instead, the lakes of magic, the dead ends. Places like Fendale hold traces of the lure, the beauty, even if it seems inappropriate. And the increased concentration is speeding their...breakdowns."

  "But why is it affecting them?" He suddenly snapped. "And why only specific people?"

  She hesitated. "I've not had the chance to look into it. It has something to do with blood, that's all I know so far."

  He grunted and lowered his chin to his knees. The forest fell quiet but for Aria's deep breathing, the crackle of fire and the occasional rustle of parchment.

  "I can't get the Zi'veyn to work."

  She remained silent for a while. Finally, with a heavy nod, she shuffled up against him. "I figured. Otherwise Fendale wouldn't have been left in such a state. I know what you want, my love, but I can't help you. I can't find anything wrong with it, and the spell is so tangled... Oh, please don't look at me like that. Even if I could work it out it would take me just as long as it would you, with the added trouble of having to explain it all. You're the one who has to use it, so you must understand it right from its roots, and the only way to do that is to be the one to unravel it."

  "Weeks I've spent poring over it. It should have worked... I've been looking inside and out of the accursed thing for any cracks or fractures I've missed but..." He shook his head in aggravation and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I'm in over my head, Kienza. I can't do this."

  "You can--"

  "I can't."

  "You must."

  His eyes flared, and she matched his fury with affection.

  "I am sorry, my love, but it's a truth. You are hunted, this is also true, but the fact remains that no one else has
the freedom to pursue it, nor the blood to achieve it." She took his chin in her slender fingers and forced him to face her again. "You know this. And you know why you have to."

  He snatched his chin free. "Don't manipulate me."

  She snatched him back, her eyes suddenly cold. "I could say the same to you. We both know it doesn't matter what you say because you will keep working at it, and you will do it for her. Don't try to make me give you the answers to make your life easier when this is all you have to do!"

  "And just what is it you have to do?!"

  "Anything I must."

  He swatted her hand away with a toothy snarl and stared off into the dark forest. She let him. They said nothing for some time. Rathen brooded; Kienza waited. Then he spoke, flat and irritated but with an effort to rein in his temper. "Do you have any advice at all? Anything?" He looked back around as she moved. He allowed her to take his hands in hers and her intense, heartfelt gaze to penetrate him, and though she said nothing for another long moment, she settled the flux of his tensions. And in place of his anger came a flood of something far worse.

  She smiled sadly and brushed away the tear that rolled down his cheek. "Let yourself grieve."

  The roll of the sluggish river made barely a gurgle in the thick, warm air. And yet the steady footfalls were still almost lost in the silence. Soft and quiet, expertly light even across the stark surface of the rock shelf - so light, in fact, that it could have earned a swift and paranoid knife across the throat. Fortunately, Garon patrolled so relentlessly that she'd come to recognise his gait.

  Without even a glance towards her blades, though thankful she hadn't undressed for the shallow water after all, Petra continued ringing the water out from her hair before looking up at last from the river's edge. "We're safe," she said wearily, watching him walk by at a slow, observant pace. "Kienza wouldn't have brought us here otherwise."

  "I know."

  Her eyebrow twitched. She turned away to splash the tepid water across her face. "Of course you do. You're just so used to being on the job that you've forgotten how to stand still."

  "In the same way you've forgotten how to be pleasant?"

  She spun back around in surprise, her knee almost slipping into the river from the edge of the rocks, and stared at him as he came to a stop several paces away to stare off into the trees on the opposite bank. "...Was that a joke? Or an insult?" She scoffed when he didn't respond. "It's an improvement either way. Some attempt at colour and creativity. I am surprised."

  He watched her from the corner of his eye as she rose to her feet, and saw, not for the first time, the brutal burns that wrapped around most of her right arm. She pulled her sleeves down over them, her asymmetrical blouse long since traded for something nondescript, and gathered her things.

  "Water's all yours."

  "I'm not here for it."

  She frowned in suspicion as she pulled herself effortlessly up onto the shelf beside him and readjusted the bola at the back of her cinch. "Then what are you here for?"

  He said nothing.

  She rolled her eyes and walked away.

  "Petra."

  She paused and glanced expectantly over her shoulder, but turned fully when she noticed how slowly he turned towards her. His usual mantle of rigid formality had dropped - she wasn't sure it had even been there when he'd arrived. Instead, there was a discomfort about him. It held her attention, and a touch more patience slipped in with curiosity and a flash of foolish hope as she waited to discover whatever it was he appeared so hesitant to say.

  "I need your help," he said at last, at which she deflated. "With Rathen. I have no experience with personal loss..."

  "Then it was his father he left Aria with?"

  He nodded. "They didn't have a good relationship--"

  "It doesn't matter, he's hurt. It's clear enough to anyone..."

  He watched her slender hand reach absently for her locket, then noted the disturbance in her eyes as she stared into space. He rolled his shoulder. "Make sure he doesn't get distracted. Don't look at me like that, I'm not being callous."

  "It certainly sounds like it, but I understand. It's easy to..." She smiled meekly as she fiddled with the silver oval. "Easy to get lost in it..."

  "Not without good reason." He forced his eyes back over the river. "How's Eyila?"

  "She's coping."

  "You're protective over her. Rarely away from her side."

  "She's young. And she's been through more than any of us can imagine." She looked at him sideways, her eyes slight, but her tongue was provoked more by curiosity than a poor temper. "Why? Concerned for another tag-along?"

  "She's been through a lot."

  Petra stared for another moment. She didn't miss the fact that he made no effort to correct her. And neither did he. But pride prevented him from amending it. Then he thought better of it.

  "Rathen will be fine," Petra assured him with a slight edge to her voice before he was able. "He doesn't need me or any of the rest of us looking after him. He has Aria for that. And Kienza's here, too." She looked to his shoulder, which he rolled again a moment later. The injury was still plaguing him. "How is it? Your arm, I mean."

  He stilled and straightened, staring into the darkness. "It's still there."

  "Another joke."

  "It isn't slowing me down."

  "No, to be honest I've noticed that much. But is it...getting any better?"

  He looked down without thought and watched his fingers flex. He appeared to try to hide it around his side, but Petra could see it clearly enough to know there was no change. Still only his ring and smallest finger moved. But she had been aware of that for some time. He tested his fingers often, absently and when he thought no one was looking, but she rarely missed it, nor the lack of improvement. But she'd hoped that perhaps, despite her diligence, a detail had slipped by. If nerve damage could be overcome at all.

  He dropped his hand and looked back up towards the trees. His expression was void. "It's fine."

  "You could ask--"

  "It's fine."

  Her lips pursed at his sharp and insistent look. "It's actually difficult to comprehend just how stubborn and difficult you are."

  He sighed wearily. "It isn't getting in my way," he assured her again, his stiff posture slackening, "and Kienza has more important things to do than play nurse."

  "That sounds familiar."

  "It's the truth, and you know it. It isn't getting in my way. I'm fine."

  "Ooh, I almost believed you that time. Go on, try again, once more..."

  He gave her a flat, unamused stare, but she only smiled and shook her head. It didn't appear to be sarcastic.

  "If you're sure," she sighed, still plainly unconvinced, and rung the remaining water from her dulling red hair which was dampening her shoulders. "I'm going to..."

  He nodded as she gestured away towards camp. "Yes. I'll--"

  "Patrol," she smiled. "I know. Thank you."

  He frowned as she turned away. "For what?"

  "Always being vigilant."

  "That sounds familiar."

  "Which makes it no less relevant." She flashed him a smile and started on her way.

  Garon watched her walk off into the forest, slipping gracefully between the trees, her blades flashing in the moonlight before she was swallowed by the night.

  He rolled his shoulder, clenched his fist, and wondered just exactly what he was trying to do to himself.

  "Bah!"

  Anthis forced his racing heart into submission, then looked urgently down to the parchments in search of rips and tears from his suddenly tightened grip. There were only crumpled creases, which he regarded with defeat, and looked up to glare at whomever had startled him. But when he found himself staring into shockingly pale blue eyes set within a skin that appeared to shimmer gold in the firelight, he had to subdue his heart again.

  "Sorry," Eyila smiled timidly as his gaze darted away. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

  "No, no
, no it's fine, it's fine. Really."

  "I'm glad. I haven't had the chance to speak with you since you returned."

  "Oh, y-you wanted to speak to me?" He was unaware of the childish grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

  "Of course. I'm glad you're well."

  "Oh, thank you...and the same to you."

  She smiled peculiarly - pleased, but with a hint of unreadable thought. It was an expression unique to her, and while it had unsettled the others at first, he'd found it intriguing. Her eyes travelled down to the scrolls in his hands, and she shuffled closer to peer at the writings. He stiffened.

  "Can you get the Zi'veyn to work?"

  "M-me? No, I can't, I'm not--"

  "I meant with your knowledge of the elves." She looked back up, stopping his heart, hope brimming in her eyes. "Your books - your research. Rathen believes you can help him."

  "Oh, you...you spoke to him already?"

  "Of course. Petra isn't quite so...hateful towards him. She seems to want to keep me away from you. But, clearly, she can't be with me all the time." Her grin turned impish. His smile renewed at the sight of it, and enthusiasm quickly returned to brighten her incredible eyes. Which, he noticed, appeared a little red. It was probably the firelight. "So can you? Help him?"

  "Uh, well I mean, I'll do the best I can, of course, but how much help I'll actually be is another...matter..."

  "You will be of much more help than you think. I have no doubt that Rathen will succeed. There's...something about him..."

  The butterflies in his stomach choked and died. "Oh?"

  "Potential. Or something more... Promise, perhaps. Or destiny."

  He nodded. His smile was tight, teeth hidden behind his lips.

  "He is our world's only hope."

  "Yes. He does seem to be, doesn't he?"

  The two fell quiet. Anthis continued staring at the parchments, reading the same few words his attention would permit him over and over again while she pondered the script she couldn't possibly decipher. Then her eyes travelled back up to him, and she considered him in silence for a while. "I liked the beard," she said finally, raising her finger to touch his shaven cheek. He flinched immediately and his skin turned rose. Fortunately, the firelight masked it. "I'm sorry," she chuckled, "I didn't mean to startle you - again. You're very jumpy, you know."