Embers at Galdrilene (13 page)

Vaddoc held against his opponent both with his blades and his mind. As he tired, the quick heavy blows became harder to deflect. He held onto the hum in his mind by a hair, too afraid of letting his opponent’s sword through to fully focus on it. Dimly, he heard screaming. He couldn’t spare a glance to find the reason. He sent a brief prayer to the Fates for his companions.

Fatigue made his arms heavy. Why didn’t the brute take advantage of the openings he couldn’t help leaving? His strength wavered. He gave up and surrendered every thought to the low humming. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the hum turned into a growling roar that thundered into his head.

The essence of the spirit wrapped around his mind like a shield, flooding his limbs with energy. He pushed the Kojen back with a strength he had never known before. His swords danced with blurring speed as he burned with a fury that was not his. His blades dipped through a break in his enemy’s defenses, one nearly cutting the beast in half, while the other severed its head.

Vaddoc’s legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. His muscles quivered and his arms hung at his sides. The presence slowly withdrew from his body and mind, returning to nothing more than a murmur. Silence lay like a heavy blanket over the hilltop.

Looking around, he saw Emallya standing with her sword sheathed, watching him. He glanced at Loki. The boy looked frightened, but otherwise unharmed. His eyes rested briefly on Kellinar and Serena. They sat shaking with wide, blank eyes. Then he saw a young woman with rich green eyes and flame red hair hanging in a long braid down her back. She leaned casually on a strange looking weapon. It looked like quarterstaff with a foot of steel on each end.

Stepping around the large, dead forms on the ground, Emallya crouched down in front of him. Her eyes searched his. “You have done well, Guardian.”

He looked away toward Kellinar and Serena. “Will they be alright?”

Emallya twisted to follow his gaze. “They will be fine. It will take a bit for the effects to wear off. They will be back to themselves by morning. This one,” she indicated the newcomer, “dispatched the Kojen that attacked their minds, although Loki was doing his best to kill it. She also killed another one.” She stood. “We will move down off this hill and make camp for the night.”

Vaddoc climbed to his feet. His muscles were watery and his eyelids felt heavy. “I will help as best I can.”

Emallya nodded. “You are also experiencing aftereffects, of a different variety. The connection is not easy for the unbonded.”

She turned to the flame-haired woman. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“How are you called, Foundling?”

“Kirynn Izenar. I’m assuming since whatever is humming in my head has stopped pestering me, then I have found what, or rather who, it wanted me to.”

Emallya looked at the dead Kojen. “I am surprised you were able to kill two of them.”

“I can’t take complete credit for the one. Its hamstrings were already cut and this little wild thing,” she pointed at Loki, “was working on sawing through its throat.”

“What you accomplished is still quite a feat.”

Kirynn knelt down, inspecting the Kojen. “I grew up in Boromar and learned the use of weapons at a very young age. I spent two years on the main battlefront against Kanther. I started hearing a hum in my head the last few months on the battlefield. I found focusing on it gave me a great advantage over my opponents. It made me faster and stronger. At first allowing myself to focus on it–allowing it to flow through me–left me exhausted. After a while, I guess I got used to it because it no longer fazes me.”

“You weren’t afraid of it?”

Kirynn shrugged and stood. “I don’t find fear very useful. It’s not an emotion I’ve spent much time developing. In the beginning, the hum was a distraction. It was accidental the first time I gave in to it. After I realized how much better I could fight when fully focused on it, I welcomed it.”

Emallya raised one eyebrow slightly. “Fear has its place at times. Tell me, besides being pestered by the presence in your mind, what drove you to leave?”

“A man tried to kill me in my sleep one night. I set his head on fire. I didn‘t mean to. Killing him with my zahri,” she lifted the weapon, “would have been enough for me, but whatever’s in my mind had different ideas. I realized then that I could use magic and if I intended to keep my own head for any length of time, it was time to leave. As soon as I left, the dragon-blasted humming got worse and became unbearable if I went in any direction but east.”

Emallya nodded. “Some of that was my doing.”

“And who are you?”

“I am Emallya Lorant.”

Kirynn inclined her head in greeting and asked, “So what am I doing here? And what are these...things?” She kicked the prone figure of a Kojen.

“That is a Kojen, a remnant of the War of Fire.” Emallya waved her hand toward Vaddoc and his companions. “These young Foundlings are traveling with me to a place where magic is not a death sentence. Why don’t you help us set up camp, then I will be happy to explain everything.”

They moved slowly and carefully down the hill. Kellinar and Serena were asleep as soon as they were allowed to lay down. Vaddoc and Loki stayed awake while Emallya talked with the newcomer.

“So, Foundling, I have answered your questions, now I have one for you. Do you wish to travel with us?”

Kirynn looked across the fire at the older woman. “I see no reason not to. Blasted humming would probably just start driving me crazy again anyway if I didn’t.”

Emallya smiled. “Vaddoc here uses light, Kellinar uses air, Serena can heal and it seems you can use fire.”

The younger woman nodded. “It would appear so. I will admit it definitely has its uses, if a bit unpredictable. Sometimes nothing happens and other times I make a fireball the size of my horse.”

“That will pass with time.”

“What of this little wild one?” Kirynn asked, looking at the boy.

He crossed his arms and scowled. “My name’s Loki, not wild one.”

“You’ve got quite a bit of spunk, don’t you?”

Loki opened his mouth to reply until Emallya cut him off. “He is too young to tell if he can use magic. Still, the Fates send him with us. It is late; all of you get some sleep now. I will keep watch.”

Vaddoc settled into his sleeping roll, his mind on the tall newcomer. She’d killed two Kojen. An impressive feat even with one already injured. Emallya killed more than two, but she at least knew what Kojen were. How many people would be willing to wade into battle with unknown creatures that stood three hands taller with horns curling out of their heads and could attack mentally? He found both her skill with her chosen weapon and her bravery very attractive.

M
aleena sat by the window staring out into the rain. In the glass, the translucent reflection of her violet eyes stared back. Her grandmother said she was beautiful. It didn’t matter. No amount beauty would make her acceptable to the villagers.

A short distance away, smoke coiled up from the chimneys of Lowden. It hung over the village in the moisture-laden air like another cloud. The village was a quiet place now, on the threshold of spring. Soon the mountain snows would melt. From the tiny mountain hamlets, tucked away in the high valleys, people would descend into the southern regions to trade the bounty from their mines for much needed supplies. Lowden was a pass through for them, as it was for most people. The small inn provided a soft bed and a good meal for those on their way to bigger places.

The sound of her grandmother’s labored breathing filled the room. Her whispered voice calling her drew Maleena from the window. She moved to sit the chair next to the bed and took one of the woman’s frail hands into her own.

“Must tell you something before I go, child,” she said.

Maleena gently brushed away the stray strands of gray hair that had fallen over the wrinkled face. “Shh, don’t try to talk, Nana, just rest so you can get your strength back and get better.”

The old woman’s voice grew a bit stronger, “Hush, child. My time has come and I will be leaving before too long. What I have to tell you is important. You have to know. It’s something passed from mother to daughter since the War of Fire. Your mother is no longer in this world, so I will tell you in her stead.

“At the end of the War of Fire, only days before the last battle that killed both sides, a farmer found a young woman lying almost dead in a field not far from here. She had nothing with her but a bag. The farmer and his wife tended the physical wounds. She must have had some internal injuries because for she suffered horrible attacks of pain.”

Her grandmother paused to take several shaky breaths before continuing. “The young woman took news of the last battle particularly hard, although she would not tell why. She was very withdrawn and barely coherent most of the time. She could not tell where she came from or what happened to her. In those days there were a good many people wandering in search of someplace safe. Entire cities were nothing but ash. Many saw so much devastation they lost their minds.

“This is what the farmer and his wife assumed happened to the young woman. A few weeks after her arrival it became apparent the young woman was pregnant. She lived just long enough to give birth to a baby girl. With her dying breaths she asked that the contents of her pack be given to her daughter and the story of the baby’s birth be passed onto each generation of women. She said the contents, a pendant and a scroll, must never be sold or given away, or allowed into another’s hands. And that for all of the pendant’s jewels, the scroll was what was important and it was worth dying for. The farmer’s wife vowed to do as the dying mother asked. ”

A sad sigh escaped Maleena’s lips. Her troubles hardly seemed important compared to the pain the War of Fire had wrought.

Her grandmother drew another long breath. “The farmer and his wife never had any children of their own and they raised the baby as if she was born to them. The women of this family have honored the vow these many generations and now it’s your turn.” Lifting a frail hand, the old woman pointed at the large chest at the foot of her bed. “Open it and see the objects we protect.”

Maleena opened the chest and her breath caught. A large scroll–rolled tightly closed–lay next to a silver chain necklace with a gold, five-pointed star pendant. Each point on the pendant held a different colored stone: rich blue sapphire, green emerald, fire ruby, yellow amian and a gold diamond. The center of it contained a dragon gem and it was all woven together with fine threads of silver.

She picked up the scroll. “What does it say, Nana?

“I don’t know, child. The trick of opening it died with the young woman.”

Maleena tried everything to open it, but her grandmother was right. She could find no means to unroll the scroll, though it didn’t appear sealed or bound in any way. She set it aside.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the necklace. It was so beautiful. The star filled her palm. Traces of power flowed into her hand and filled her veins with sweet warmth. The deep red fire in the facets of its purple and green center stone seemed to gleam. In her mind, the hum that was always with her, crooned with happiness.

A faint smile graced the old woman’s face. “You feel it as well, don’t you? Your mother felt it when she held it. It’s a powerful object from ancient times. Keep it with you always, even when you leave here.”