Heirs of War (6 page)

"We had to," she answered simply. "We weren’t safe there anymore."

"Because of what your father is?" At the panicked look she gave in response to his question, he elaborated. "Come now, Terra. Did you think I wouldn't notice he was Athucrean? I know the laws forbidding him from having a child like you. It doesn't matter to me," he assured her as tears began to form in her eyes. "I love you just the way you are, part Athucrean or not. I will never let anyone bring any harm to you or your father so long as I am around."

She pressed her lips together, overwhelmed with emotion at the amount of blind devotion he showed them both. "I know you won't. I promise I will repay you for your loyalty one day."

He chuckled at her vow. "I hardly think repayment is necessary, Terra. It's what you do when you love someone."

They both let their heads drift back to the grass so they were looking at the stars with their hands intertwined, content to let the silence surround them for a few moments.

He turned back to her, his face full of question. "Do you think you'll ever go back?"

She
looked to him, intensely, as though she were trying to burn the image of him like this into her mind. She traced the line of his jaw, a thin scruff covering his chin from where he hadn't shaved in almost a day, letting her fingers find the hair hanging around his ears. "I hope not."

Weeks later, as the village began preparations for the Samhain celebrations, Terrena woke up with a bad feeling. It was the kind of feeling that rooted itself in your chest, taking hold and making a nest so it might grow as time goes on. She had first gotten the sensation only a few days after Lugnasad. Terrena had been asked to help them prepare for the Samhain festival since she had proven her hand at making wreaths. In preparation for the fire festival to come, there was talk of the feast they would attempt to prepare with the bakers and butchers, who would be offering their finest products, and discussion about which activities to partake in.

Much to Terrena's surprise, this year they decided the bonfire in the town center would be lit in honor of the Ainnir Zelene and her twin Ainnir Ariana, both were born under the sign of Fire in their elemental calendar year. Eighteen years had passed since their birth on Samhain. The people wished to light the fire in the hopes they would soon be brought back safe to Anscombe, a silent prayer to the Mhathair Mhor, the Great Mother herself, to protect them until their return to the throne. They were a symbol of hope for the people. As they starved and watched their loved ones die in battle or from exposure or illness, they counted the days until the girls would return
as women and bring about an end to the war as they were prophesized to do.

This small gesture from this destitute town of poor miners and traders had moved Terrena greatly. People
had spoken about the Duillaine Ainnir in her presence, but she had never seen them display their hope in the girls in such a way before. In that moment, she realized her time outside the walls of Anscombe was coming to a close. She would have to return soon. As each day after drew to an end, the breath she had been holding tightened in her chest as if she knew the next one would be her last one here.

When she sat down
to breakfast with Kenward, her sense of foreboding was affirmed by a visit from their neighbor. Ingrid visited them often, her interests in Kenward quite obvious to everyone but him. Terrena’s Cyneward looked very much like the warrior he truly was with his firm rectangular build and towering height, but he also happened to be a handsome man. His tawny colored hair usually hung around his chin and obscured his chiseled face, but served only to add an air of mystery to him. She figured his curtain of hair must also block his view of all the women fawning over him since he appeared to be oblivious to their advances.

Under normal circumstances, Ingrid made herself highly presentable around Kenward, not a
strand out of place from her bun and her cheeks perfectly rouged. Today, however, her clothes were disheveled, the edge of her pale blue dress covered in spots as if she had been running through the mud. She leaned over, placing her hands on her knees as her windblown hair fell around her face, and tried to catch her breath.

Kenward shifted to the alert in an instant. "What's wrong, Ingrid?" he asked, his honey eyes full of concern.

"I tried to get over here as soon as I could," Ingrid panted, "to warn you. A group of Cahiran scouts have been spotted not too far from here. The inn keeper expects them to seek shelter here. They seem to be looking for recruits, but I thought I'd better warn you to be safe."

Terrena stopped chewing and stared
wide eyed at the woman. Her heart seemed to be trying to rip itself from her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Kenward raised a hand to stop her, and she slowly chewed her breakfast again though the food now tasted like ash in her mouth.

"Why do you tell us this?" He leaned on his hand, his fingers idly running over the fuzz of his faint beard with an air of nonchalance contradicting everything Terrena felt. "We have no quarrel with the Cahirans."

Ingrid's placed her hands on her hips and huffed her disbelief. "The Ainnir Terrena has no quarrel with those wishing to kill her?"

Kenward threw himself to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor, and grabbed her by the arm. "Who told you this? Do they search for her?" he demanded as he towered over the woman.

Ingrid’s face, smug at the confirmation of her assumption, turned soft. The fear she felt for the two of them shined through her round face. "Not yet, but if I sussed it out, others may have as well. You must leave."

He loosened his grip, relaxing his defensive stance. "Terrena, go get your things."

"We have to warn Garrett," Terrena said as she made for the door, hands shaking at the idea of the Cahirans being so close. "He already left for the caves, but if we hurry we can catch up with him."

Kenward
rounded table, taking her hands into his and forcing her to look him in the eye. "They are too close, Terrena. If we search him out, we risk of running into them."

"We can be careful,
" she argued although she knew her words were futile. Pity shone through his eyes as he looked down at her. His mind was made up. "We can't leave him behind. Please, Kenward."

H
is words were weighted with his own sadness. “Would you risk his life?"

"If we leave him, they will just as surely kill him."

"I will find him, child," Ingrid offered. "I will find him and hide him. Perhaps he will be able to rejoin you later."

She nodded stiffly, thanked Ingrid, and rushed off to her room to retrieve her things. When she returned, Kenward was questioning Ingrid about how close the Cahirans were and whether or not she had discussed Terrena's true identity with anyone, to which Ingrid claimed she hadn't.

"When you find Garrett," he advised, "do not tell him who Terrena really is. Should he find us, he is safer not knowing. The less he knows, the safer he will be should the Cahirans get their hands on him."

They left within the hour, disappearing without a trace as they were accustomed to doing when the time came to move on. They traveled all day, heading east, and making few stops along the way. Kenward now sat by the small campfire he had built, poking at the burning twigs and listening to Terrena's soft sobs. He had watched her all day as she kept an eye out for any sign of Garrett. There was little chance he would find them, but still she looked. Now, she seemed to have given up hope as her shoulders shook.

"Terrena, you must eat.”

"I'm not hungry."

He laid down his stick and walked over to her, kneeling beside her makeshift bed and placing a kind hand on her back. "You have to keep up your strength in case we have to fight," he repeated.

"They won't find us," she said with a humorless laugh. "They rarely do. I should never have let you talk me into leaving him."

"My Terra," he soothed as he stroked her
back, "we had no choice. We risked much to let him come along in the first place. We're lucky nothing has happened before now."

She kept her back to him, lifting her head so she could see him out the corner of her eye. "What will they do to him if they find him?" she asked, her voice weak with fear.

"I don't believe they will. Ingrid will hide him."

"If they do?"

"I imagine they will question him since he has been traveling with us. If they see he doesn't know anything," he said with a wistful sigh, "perhaps they will let him go."

She closed her eyes, more tears escaping
from beneath her lashes. "Don't soften the truth for me, Father. They’re monsters."

"Yes, they can be, but they are also trying to win more people to their cause. An act of mercy might help them to do that."

"I hope you're right," she said as she lowered herself back onto her makeshift pillow. She watched from the corner of her eye as he rose to go back to his spot by the campfire, until she called out to him softly. "Yes?"

"Where will we go?" She didn’t really want to know the answer. Any path they took would take her further from Garrett. She was tired of running, tired of starting new life after new life. But she feared the time for running had come to an end.

"We're going to Anscombe," he finally answered.

She tried to hide her concern with more questions. "Do you think the others will come?"

"I'm not sure how to reach them, to be honest."

She turned onto her side to face him. "The twins will be eighteen soon. Isn't that why we left? So we might return when we have all come into our power and can better protect ourselves?"

"Part of the reason, yes. With the five of you being so young and unable to defend yourselves, protecting you was much harder. Anscombe had proven to be riddled with spies, and once they were able to get to Solanna's child...." he trailed off, staring at his hands as he reflected back on the memory of the infant being snatched from the safety of their walls. "No measure would be considered too extreme when it came to keeping you safe. Ariana and Zelene should be eighteen soon, which means they are well beyond the age when their gifts would start to develop. Hopefully that means we will be followed soon by them when we return."

"You don't think they're back already?"

He shook his head with certainty. "Word of their return would have spread by now." He moved the embers around with his stick. "Don't trouble yourself with thoughts of your sister and cousins. We will get to Anscombe and go from there. What matters now is that we get you to safety."

"What do you think their lives are like? On Dhara?" She’d longed to know more of the strange, magicless land the other girls had been sent to ever since Kenward had let it slip that they’d been sent there. He’d explained how she was too old at the time to adapt and blend in enough to keep her safe, but he hadn’t said much more than that. He was always worried other ears would be listening.

"I can’t imagine, Terrena. Living in a world separated from the elements? It sounds terrible."

"Why do you think that is? That the world is
so weak, I mean.”

"Honestly, I’m not sure. I've heard the same story as you over the years. Thousands of years ago, all the worlds were connected," he said, repeating the common history amongst their people. "Dhara was still connected as well, though considered to be the weakest among the worlds by far. It was rare for anyone born on Dhara to have the ability to wield the power of the elements and creatures depending on the connection to nature couldn't survive there. The people adapted, as people do. They became more dependent on machines and various gods than the world around them."

"Eventually they became frightened of those of us touched by the elements," Terrena finished for him.

He nodded his agreement. "The Duillaine Banair at the time made the decision to
abandon Dhara to its own fate, and it's a good thing, too. Their fear and fanaticism grew to a murderous level. They began to kill anyone they even suspected to be like us, torturing them and burning them to death. The lucky ones were merely executed."

She sat up, a look of consternation across her soft features. "Why would the Duillaine send them to Dhara knowing that world to be so dangerous?"

"They don't believe it is. At least, not in the part of Dhara where the girls are. Many years have passed since the times of the burnings. Keep in mind that we still have people who travel there to study their ways. The treiors have probably been a great help to the Cynewards protecting the girls."

She leaned down, propping herself up on her elbow. "It's so odd to think about how they get by without being able to call on Fire to warm them or Earth to heal their ailments. I can’t imagine what a difficult life Rhaya has led there."

"As I said, people adapt. Just as the people of Estridia adapt to their surroundings, so do the people of Dhara," he said. "Do not worry for your sister. I doubt she knows anything about the power she can wield, and I doubt any connection to the elements has manifested itself there anyway. I believe they chose Dhara for this reason. They felt their natural connections to the elements would be weakened there, aiding them to blend in, coupled with their ignorance of who they truly are, and I have to believe they are more protected than you have ever been."