Girl of Myth and Legend (12 page)

‘You said it was more afraid of me than I was of it.’

‘Yes, and it’s the same with kytaen.’

I stare out at the last traces of sun. ‘It’s not the kytaen that’s bothering me so much.’

‘The soul-binding?’

‘It’s too… intimate. It’s like, like, inviting someone you don’t even know into your life, into your history. They’ll know your darkest thoughts, the stuff that no one should know, the stuff that makes you seem like a monster, and I have to share that with a total stranger. It’s like I’m some sort of child bride or something.’

Dad sighs. ‘I wish I could explain to you how unnecessary your worrying is. Let me put it this way: a kytaen isn’t a someone, it’s just a thing. Think of it as bonding with an inanimate object.’

‘Except it’s not. And
ew
, by the way. D’you have to make it sound so gross?’

KORREN

UNTIL THE END OF DAYS

I stand in front of the portal, the orange light humming. Della is using her communication pad to send messages back and forth.

I’ve spent the last couple of days in the holding bay, not thinking of returning back to my shadows—which I would have done before the arena—but of the ones I killed. The kytaen in the arena had been much more powerful than me, and I managed to avoid them until most of them were dead. That meant the strongest were left, though. I only won because of a combination of good luck and size. Compared to most, my beast form is large and can take damage well.

I think of the last moment of Abon’s life, of the look in his eyes as he realised he was going to die. It wasn’t a look of fear or anger. It had been of
happiness
, a profound happiness. More than anything, that makes me livid.

Della’s voice takes me from my thoughts. ‘I have been told to inform you of your future keeper beforehand,’ she says. This surprises me: we’re normally dispatched knowing nothing. It’s not for any reason, just why would a shield need to know who they’re protecting? ‘She is more important than she would have been two hundred years ago. As you have probably gathered by now, the Chosen is a Pulsar, the first since your previous keeper died,
the only left
.’

My last keeper was the final Pulsar, and when she died I was free. Not free in the sense that I could do what I wanted, live how I wanted, go where I wanted—the Imperium will own me until the end of my days—but it meant I could stay in Aris, no matter how bland a life it is there. Now my fate has changed: a Pulsar exists again, reinstating me into the very same world I despise. Somewhere, forces of darkness are hunting her, and as a kytaen, I am the one who has to protect her from them. As a kytaen, I am the one who has to give my life for hers, whether I want to or not.

‘Currently,’ Della begins, ‘only the Imperial Council, the Divinity and Replica know of her existence. The Council thinks it wise to keep her existence a secret until she further develops her abilities. Her duties as a Pulsar will be too demanding for someone so inexperienced. She is to be slowly integrated into our world.’

‘She didn’t know she was Chosen?’ I ask.

‘Indeed, she knows nothing of our world. We have not understood the reasons for this concealment, but we will.’

It’s unusual for a Chosen to be unaware of their nation, but not unheard of. Still, the first Pulsar in two hundred years, completely unfamiliar with her own kind… it
is
an interesting premise, though not enough to make me want to go.

‘I should also mention that although she has awoken as a Chosen, the girl’s magic, her power, is undeveloped as of yet. Therefore, she will be taught the Art of Reflection, and, once her magic develops, to control her abilities and heighten her strength with aid from the Imperium’s most celebrated mentors. Once her power has reached a significant level, her existence will be revealed to the people of Duwyn.’

Della moves to the side so I alone am facing the portal. ‘Be ready to step through,’ she says.

My talons press against the steel of the bridge, and as I walk towards the portal, towards my fate, I remind myself of my resolution, of my promise. I think of Abon, I think of all the ones who fought in the arena. I will avenge them. I will find a way to bring down the Chosen. And the Pulsar—who was the reason the arena was created in the first place—she will suffer the most for what she has done.

LEONIE

MY MONSTER

The next morning, I wake up in bed with a headache. I’d spent all night thinking about the pros and cons of being a Chosen, and it came out even. There are lots of benefits to being Chosen, no, to being a Pulsar, but lots of downsides, too, the soul-binding being one of them. Actually, it’s the only one… besides the junk food thing… and the rebel thing. OK, so not the only one, but the most significant one to me right now. There’s nothing I can do about it, though. If I want this life, the life that will take me far from my memories, from my past, from Abi, then binding my soul to some monster is a price I’m willing to pay.

And today is the day I pay that price.

I get out bed, booting Pegasus, and have a shower. Once I’m washed and dressed I face the mirror, flatten my clothes out with my hand, and turn to the door.

OK, Leonie. Today is the day you’ve been dreading. No, not dreading, anticipating—looking forward to, even. Yeah, that’s better. I’ve been looking forward to binding my soul to a mythical beast I don’t know anything about…
God, I’m not even convincing in my head. I take a deep breath.
It’s not the soul-binding today. O’Sah said last night that I’m just meeting the kytaen. Maybe I can get to know it in the next couple of days. Yeah. I’ll get to know it better so it’s not as scary—no, not scary, anticipative
.

Is that a word?

As I go to open the door, Pegasus begins to whine.

‘Hush now, you’ll be fine,’ I say, patting his head. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. And… not alone.’

After breakfast and a lengthy discussion with Harriad, then another serving of breakfast, O’Sah, Dad and I exit the temple. We go through the tower and down the causeway, coming to the descending stone steps. The waterfall tumbles down the hillside like a wall of blue satin wound with silver, showering onto the rocks and into the misty pool below. Beside the steps stand slabs of stone with writing etched into them. I hadn’t noticed them yesterday; probably more involved with the bigger picture.

‘They’re reminders’, says O’Sah, following my gaze, ‘of finding our balance. That one says,
“Seluo astree en ariya”.
’

‘I’m not fluent in mythical,’ I say.

‘The closest translation would be, “Be all, not self”.’

‘Because that makes sense.’

‘You’ll understand it better when you begin your lessons.’

We come onto the pathway that I recall from last night, and as we pass the place where we were attacked, my fingers brush against my neck. I look around me: there are plenty of soldiers around this morning, and security will be prepared this time. ‘What happened to the people who attacked us?’ I ask.

‘Don’t worry, they’ll never see light again,’ O’Sah replies.

‘What? That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? Sure they attacked us, but—’

‘Make no mistake, my Lady,’ his gaze hardens on me, ‘they were trying to kill you, and if you had been alone, they would have succeeded.’

I feel cold, and probably not because of the snow.

‘Murder is punishable by death, even attempted murder,’ he continues. ‘They’re fortunate we need them for information.’

‘Information?’

‘About where the rest of their group are.’

‘Oh.’ Right. There are more of them that are looking to put my head on a spike.

‘The kytaen is scheduled to arrive in twelve minutes,’ O’Sah says. ‘The portal isn’t far from here.’

‘I just want to get this over with,’ I mumble.

He leads us down a pathway and into a forest. My eyes scan the trees. I’m not an arborist, but I’m pretty sure we don’t have trees like this in the human realm. They don’t look so different, just little things about the colour of the bark, the shape of it, the texture. The wind picks up and I wrap my arms around myself again, shivering.

‘You’ll do fine today,’ Dad says to me.

‘Thanks.’ I don’t know how that’s supposed to make me feel better, but I’ll take it.

‘Don’t be nervous.’

‘I’m not.’ If ‘not’ means ‘I am.’

Eventually, we meet with three Thrones with golden pins attached to their crimson cloaks. I don’t remember any of them besides the old man, so I’m guessing they were the ones I met on Agerath Island. They bow their heads to me and begin to talk.

‘We brought your kytaen for you, O’Sah…’

Their voices fade away as I see what stands beside them. My eyes widen and jaw drops. There are four of them, one for each Throne, and if I sensibly describe them, it would be that they each stand on four legs, their bodies made from vines and roots entwined, and there are curled antlers on their heads made from a similar material, though they look as hard as rock. But in my eyes, they look like a crazy German scientist’s failed attempt to make a badger-deer with a stump of gnarled tree thrown in for the hell of it.

‘Ah,’ says Dad, biting his lip. He’s obviously noticed where I’m looking.

O’Sah comes beside me. ‘I’m so sorry, my Lady. I-I forgot they would bring—’

The old man sighs. ‘Honestly, O’Sah, I thought you’d have shown her a kytaen by now. I apologise, my Lady. We wouldn’t have brought them if we’d have known you weren’t—’

‘Kytaen,’ I blurt out. ‘Th-they’re kytaen?’

‘Yes,’ says O’Sah. ‘Are… are you all right, my Lady?’

Finally, I snap out of my trance. It’s pretty hard to get used to tree monsters standing in front of you, all humble and unassuming, or standing in front of you at all, but I try my best.

‘I’m good. Great. So great. Um. Right. So.
So
. Are there going to be any more of you coming to meet and greet my k-kytaen?’ I say. God, why do I have to sound so wimpy? And why is my voice so high? I clear my throat. ‘I thought it would be just you and my dad.’ OK, now I just sound like an old man.

‘Ah, well,’ says O’Sah, ‘the others are here to witness your kytaen’s arrival.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s not commonplace, but you are irreplaceable to the Imperium. Because of your importance, and because of the kytaen’s confinement for the past two hundred years—’

‘Confinement?’

‘The kytaen is powerful for its kind, and over the centuries it has served many Pulsar. However, its last keeper… it didn’t end well.’

‘“Didn’t end well?”’ I repeat. ‘That’s cause for comfort. Loving the pregnant pauses, too, by the way.’

‘I assure you, my Lady, that the kytaen is efficient. Our records throughout the centuries indicate that it had more keepers die of natural causes than it failed to protect.’

‘Yay?’

‘It is the ideal kytaen for you, and we’re just here to make sure it all goes smoothly,’ reassures the old man. If reassuring is the right word.

We walk further into the forest until I see something in the distance: an orange light surrounded by standing stones.

‘What’s that?’ I ask.

‘The portal, my Lady,’ says O’Sah. ‘It leads straight to a place called The Core. That’s why they built The Core where it is.’

The closer we get to it, the more detail I notice. The portal is kept in a circular stone as if held in place, and the small standing stones around it bear inscriptions.

‘If you would just stand here, my Lady.’ O’Sah gestures for me to stand ahead with my back to them, facing the portal. I walk ahead, snow crunching beneath my shoes. It’s strange to think that this portal, just a thin veil, can take you to a whole other place.

A few minutes pass. I feel like an idiot, standing here waiting while everyone watches me. Why can’t they just bring the kytaen to my room or something? Why does our meeting have to be so traditional? I feel like it’s unnecessary.

The wind stirs, lifting my hair with a gentle touch. There is nothing in front of me… until there is.

It’s as if the scenery in front of me bends and coils, and when it returns to how it was, a monster is staring back at me.

_________________

Pegasus is the first pet I’ve ever had, and annoying doesn’t even begin to adequately describe the height of his annoyingness. I’d wanted him, though. Dad thought my intention to take in a stray mutt was impractical, which just made me want to keep him even more. I had trouble training him—he was somewhat stupid—and I can’t really proclaim him as a trained dog. Even so, I’m grateful for him. Though I often call him names and make rude remarks about his intelligence, he’s kind of a great pet to have around.