Vulture (7 page)

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Authors: Rhiannon Paille

Tags: #juvenile fiction, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Norse

BOOK: Vulture
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Elwen smiled. “Another happy proclamation. Krishani is in love.” He narrowed his eyes at Kaliel. “This is Aulises, from Amaltheia, correct?”

Ice raced through Krishani’s veins. His mouth dropped open as he cast around for something to say. He glanced at Kaliel who looked like the stag before they caught it. She closed her mouth and nodded, not actually speaking. Krishani wondered why Elwen was so eager to conceal the identity of the Flame from the villagers. It was one thing for Krishani to want that, but Elwen agreeing with him about something only made him feel sicker about the nature of humans and their greed. Aulises was a traitorous harlot who couldn’t be trusted. And she was dead. Elwen looked at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“Aye, she’s from Amaltheia,” Krishani said, his voice monotone.

“And she was sent by King Telper himself,” Elwen continued even though Aulises was never part of King Telper’s court. Krishani gripped Kaliel tighter, and she simpered. “You have my blessing too you know,” Elwen finished.

The villagers let another round of cheers echo across the hall. Elwen held up his hand and it came to an abrupt stop. “I still need to know, Krishani Mekallow Mekelle, Son of Marlow Tavesin, if you will take your rightful place as the Ferryman.”

Krishani blinked, feeling like Elwen had dropped a stone on his head. The name Elwen rattled off was one he never heard before. It was full of syllables and consonants that sounded clunky and foreign. It might have been a name he was given at birth, but he would always be Krishani of Amersil, of Avristar and nothing else. “What did you say?” he stuttered.

Elwen raised his eyebrows. “The name is your birthright. It is what your father named you when you were born two hundred years ago,” he said.

Kaliel slipped a little in his grasp. He moved his arm so it was around her waist and fought to hold her up. She didn’t know about the two hundred years, the way time moved differently. His heart felt impossibly heavy in his chest. He didn’t want to hear more but he couldn’t stop himself. “Who was my father?”

“It doesn’t matter. He wasn’t a Ferryman, but he was a Tavesin, like half the people in this hall.” He glanced meaningfully at certain people in the crowd. Krishani hadn’t realized the villagers were related to him by blood. He wasn’t used to that. Children were born of the land, and they all belonged to Avristar. “The question remains, Krishani. Will you be the Ferryman?” Elwen asked like Krishani actually had a choice in the matter, when in truth, if he didn’t do what Elwen wanted, he’d become a Vulture.

Krishani lived so long believing he was a Child of Avristar that a paternal connection was lost on him. Whoever Marlow Tavesin was, he sent Krishani to Avristar without a second thought. He hung his head, knowing the only answer Elwen would accept.

“Yes.”

* * *

7 - Leader of the Flames

Kaliel watched idly as Pux and the others filled the middle of the hall for more dancing, and for once she didn’t feel like it. She felt heavy and exhausted, her hand still pressed to Krishani’s while he leaned against the pillar for support. Sweat congealed across his creased brow and a jaw muscle twitched at the edge of his mouth. She understood why Krishani didn’t tell Elwen anything about him. His ancestor wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t instilled with the kind of honor that existed on Avristar. He manipulated Krishani into agreeing to his birthright and humiliated him in front of the villagers. At least they weren’t paying attention to Krishani anymore. She realized the stories were true. Humans were ignorant, selfish creatures with little respect for anything. Her heart cinched as the longing for home cut into her so strongly that tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. The hall was stifling; she needed to get out of there before she broke down. All of this was wrong. Being alive wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Do you want to go back to the room?” she asked, hoping Krishani would come with her.

“Kaliel?” a voice asked from behind her. Krishani let go and put his hands on her shoulders, looking briefly into her eyes.

“I’m going to get some air,” he said nodding to the person that approached. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the hall. Her chest fell as he left, coldness pressing into her empty stomach. She glanced at the person who spoke her true name, but she had no idea who he was. He had stunning brown eyes and shorn brown hair. He wore gray trousers and a blue dress shirt with gray sweater vest overtop. She glanced at his shoes—black loafers. Nobody dressed like that, not even on Avristar. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and when he smiled his youthful features turned to a bed of wrinkles. He cocked his head to the side.

“I take it you don’t recognize me?” He stepped further into the wings. He paused under the rafters and pressed his back to the stone. They were far enough away from the commotion to have a real conversation.

Kaliel shook her head, perplexed. “Should I know you?” The stranger closed his eyes briefly and opened them again, a blazing azurite blue. Kaliel took a sharp breath. “The Azurite Flame, of course,” she said quietly. She shuffled back and forth, wanting to put distance between them. He closed his eyes again and the Flame’s fire drained away. She felt awkward being so close to her kin; he was the first Flame she had met in person.

“I prefer the name Clamose,” he said his hands turning to fists in his pockets.

Kaliel sighed and pushed herself back against the stone, her black hair falling behind her shoulders. She stuck her hands under her arms to keep them warm and to avoid touching him. She wasn’t sure what would happen when two Flames collided and the idea made her queasy. “You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered, stealing a glance at him. They were side by side now, inches of space between them. He looked at the ground. Nervousness flitted through her. There was this dangerous buzz in the air that made it suffocating to be around him. It made her think of heated rocks in the belly of the volcano and explosions. Kaliel wanted to be far away from explosions for as long as possible.

Clamose scratched his head. “I came to ask what you wanted.” Kaliel frowned; she had no idea what he meant. “I suppose I should apologize first,” he mumbled, glancing at her sheepishly. “I’m not very good with socializing.”

Kaliel tried to let her unease die down. “What are you sorry for?” she asked through clenched teeth. She sent a sweeping gaze over the crowd like she was checking for danger and turned her attention back to Clamose.

“I felt them … too. Instead of trying to help you I cowered. I hid until the witches found me,” he said, his eyes on the floor.

Kaliel let her arms fall to her sides. It pained her to know she wasn’t the only one watching her kind get picked off and trapped one by one. She wanted to ask him what happened to the others. She opened her mouth but closed it again. “It’s okay,” she said after a long pause, her tone flat.

“You were brave. It was something I could never face,” he said.

She sighed. “You did face it didn’t you? You were here for the war.”

Clamose cringed. “I wanted to hide with the villagers. Klavotesi was striking down their kind and playing hero but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t kill anyone.” He seemed lost in the drone of his own words.

Kaliel felt pin-pricks in her chest at the sound of Klavotesi. She recognized the name but she couldn’t place him. She wasn’t used to male Flames. “Klavotesi is here?” She sensed him but it was like he was trying to be infinitesimal. Clamose nodded slightly.

“I need to formally ask you what it is you wish, my lady,” Clamose said and when he dropped his head he put a hand to his stomach and leaned forward like he was bowing to her.

Kaliel faced him, bewildered. “Why are you bowing?” Her voice died in the back of her throat and came out like a whisper. This behavior was more than unseemly. In her opinion, it was downright ridiculous.

Clamose looked at her with blazing blue eyes. “We have always followed you. You’re the best of us.” He stood and brushed his hands down his sweater vest. “I assume you recall nothing of the First Era?”

Kaliel felt like she had been slapped. She wasn’t the best of the Flames; she was the worst of them. She thought about how weak, stupid, and unskilled she was. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed to avoid throwing up the rotten food she had eaten earlier. She felt hollow as she tried to find the words. “I only did what I had to do.”

Clamose looked at her like she was transparent and it hurt. He knew everything about who she was in the First Era and she couldn’t remember any of it. It was like he absorbed information and stored it for later. It unnerved her because it was how Krishani looked at her sometimes, not studying her, but memorizing her.

“You were the only one without full knowledge of yourself, and yet you were the only one who managed to escape Crestaos when he came for you. Even Lotesse didn’t fare that well and she only faced seven of the Daed. Crestaos gave her a seizure before she had a chance to scream.” He yammered on like Kaliel was as important as High King Tor and it made the urge to vomit stronger.

“Please don’t talk to me like you know anything,” Kaliel said, her voice coming out more venomous than she intended.

Clamose clapped his mouth shut. “I do know everything though. I may not be as smart as Kemplan but I know the most. That has always been my job.”

Kaliel snorted. “You sound like Luenelle.”

“I don’t recall reading about her,” Clamose said.

Kaliel sighed. “She was a lorekeeper.”

“I suppose I’m a … lorekeeper too. I tend to prefer librarian.” He smiled wide. “Genius also has a certain ring to it.”

Kaliel looked at the ceiling, trying to hold herself together and then fixed him with a meaningful stare. “What I did doesn’t constitute leadership.”

Clamose only crossed his arms. “I disagree. You may remember nothing but your instincts are sharper, your abilities are more natural. Even your humbleness is benevolent.”

“What do you mean?”

“You watched out for us. You may not have been able to do anything but you were always there when things were at their worst. If you could have done something you would have. There’s more I can say about your character than my own, Kaliel.”

Kaliel wanted to crumble. She glanced at the doors to see if Krishani was there, but he wasn’t. She needed him by her side; she couldn’t explain this without explaining that she was in love. “I refused to belong to Crestaos.” She shifted from foot to foot and crossed her arms. She felt Clamose’s piercing gaze on her. “I would never let him use me to kill everyone I loved,” she said. Foreign tranquility ran down her arms and into her legs and she stood straighter, like a marionette being pulled by an invisible string. “Do you know what I realized when I couldn’t escape him?” Clamose shook his head but she spotted a smile wanting to escape his lips.

“He would never let me go. He would use me and I would always be powerless to stop him. In that moment I either belonged to him or I belonged to nobody.”

Clamose softened. “You did the right thing.”

“I’m not a leader. Whatever you were doing before this began is what you should be doing,” Kaliel said, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

Clamose nodded. “Then I will return to Nimphalls.”

Kaliel frowned. “Nimphalls?”

“Yes, I’ve been there for many years.”

“Did you say something about the witches?”

Clamose chuckled softly but it wasn’t filled with humor. “Yes, the cursed ones. Do you know them?”

Kaliel glanced over her shoulder. Kazza and Kuruny were staring disdainfully at the crowd. “They were on Avristar.”

Clamose took a deep breath. “I don’t trust them, and neither should you.” His eyes seemed darker when he said it and his hands turned to fists.

“I’ve never trusted them.” Kaliel cast a glare in their direction.

• • •

There wasn’t a place on Terra far enough away from Elwen. Krishani burst through the hall doors and into the quiet evening air. It was so silent outside it caught him off guard, and it was hard to believe the sun was already going down. He turned left on the dirt road and wound around the castle towards the stables. He wanted to see if Tyr was okay after his run-in with the thieves on Amaltheia. That was something else making him angry—Elwen lied to the villagers. Keeping Kaliel a secret was for the best, but it was unnerving how easy it was for him. Adoron would have blanched. It was impossible for a Child of Avristar to lie, not when they’d been asked a direct question. The truth was the truth, whether anyone liked to hear it or not.

Krishani pushed the wide wooden door open with his right hand and recoiled at the reminder of the disease. He drew a sharp breath thankful that Kaliel hadn’t noticed and strode into the stables.

Shimma stood beside one of the stalls, running her hands along the nose of a brown mare. She flinched like she had been scared right out of her skin. Her hands fell from the horse and her gaze dropped, her cheeks turning a bright pink.

Krishani stopped and glanced at the mare.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, taking steps away from him.

Krishani looked at her. It was much easier to be in the stables surrounded by horses and Shimma than it was to be around Elwen and his scrutinizing gaze. He would have taken Kaliel with him to show her around but Clamose looked like he had something important to say. Kaliel didn’t have the chance to meet any of her kin before, and he didn’t want to keep her to himself all the time. “I came to see if Tyr was okay.”

Shimma snorted and crossed her arms. “Not with Kaliel here,” she bolstered. Her blue eyes found his and he gulped, turning away. There was something awkward about Shimma that he couldn’t place.

“She’s fine. Clamose is with her.” He moved towards Tyr. Krishani hadn’t realized how white Tyr was. After a bath his fur was bright with gray spots along his hind.

Shimma glowered. “Does she know you’re out here?”

Krishani raised an eyebrow. “She saw me leave.”

Shimma blushed and tried to hide it by looking at Tyr. “Well the horse is fine. I already checked and the bruises are healing.”

Krishani glanced at Tyr’s underside and then turned back to Shimma. He was actually happy she was there. He wasn’t sure he could talk to anyone else about the issue he was having with the disease. “Could I ask you something?” She gave him a look that could kill and he tugged at the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head. He held it in his left hand and glanced at his arm.

Shimma coughed. “I really don’t think you should be taking your clothes off in front of me,” she forced out while trying to look at anything but him.

Krishani rolled his eyes. “I need you to check the stitches. And make sure the curse is receding.” He grimaced, not wanting to talk about their conversation before the battle or the other things she had seen. It was enough that she knew what he went through and was still willing to help.

Shimma cleared her features of shock and carefully approached him. Closer up she smelled a bit like chicken, hay and horse manure. He tried not to let on that despite their new found friendship he was wary of her loyalty. She put her fingers along the little scar and nodded. “I have some supplies inside. I should take the stitches out.” She sounded like it was all business. “Before I leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I never stay where I’m not welcome.”

“But you
are
welcomed here. Elwen isn’t going to exile you,” Krishani rebutted. He laughed out loud and then shut his mouth when Shimma scowled. The thought of Elwen sending anyone anywhere against their will was funny. He turned his palm face up and inspected it himself. The disease had drained from his shoulder and forearm but was curled around his wrist and laced through his fingers. “There isn’t more of it anywhere is there?” He turned in a slow circle so she could see his back.

She crossed her arms and smirked. “I can’t really tell. It’s not like you took everything off.” There was a sarcastic edge to her voice that caught Krishani off guard. It was his turn to cough. “Because this isn’t scandalous enough,” she finished.

Krishani was speechless. He turned the tunic in his hands and slipped it over his head. He didn’t know what was up with Shimma; she was acting like Kaliel would be jealous. He knew Kaliel well enough, and the idea was ridiculous. He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure you’ve seen shirtless men before.”

“And naked too,” she mumbled. She moved towards the mare. Krishani wanted to find out what was wrong with her but didn’t know how to ask. He stood there in silence for a long time. “At least you don’t want to be a Vulture anymore,” she said, not looking at him.

“No.” But he didn’t want to be a Ferryman either, and he wanted to go home to Avristar but he couldn’t. He hadn’t told Kaliel he had been exiled. “Where are you going?”

“Not here, not Nimphalls. I need to be alone to think some things through,” she said, still avoiding eye contact. She began whispering to the horse in incomprehensible coos and Krishani moved to the stable gates. He turned back when he reached the doorframe.

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