Storm Surge (14 page)

The frustration in the witch’s voice drew a sigh out of him. “All that has ever kept Rifters within the Rift was their honor, their oath, and their pride. That is a cage neither I nor the First can free them from. That is something they must choose to do on their own. You could set the First loose, and it would do you no good. Even in ascension, we couldn’t set them free. That’s something they must decide to do for themselves. Maybe they would follow me, should the Rift Ride, but your victory would be short lived. They would choose to return to the Rift, because it is important for them to remain honorable, to live by the Code, and fulfill their oaths. Setting the First loose wouldn’t change that.”

Crysallis balled her hand into fists. “And how would you know?”

Kalen held out his right hand, staring down at his palm. He examined the crisscrossing of thin scars from the years of survival in the Rift. “You’ve made one critical mistake in your plan, Crysallis.”

“And what’s that?”

“Even if the First ascended, I would still live. You can’t get rid of me so easily. I would remain, we would both remain, and you will have gained nothing.”

The First’s approval swept through Kalen, as warm as the desert sun.

~~*~~

Kalen walked east towards Morinvale. Fog clung to the forest, and the acrid fumes of the taint eating away at the ground burned his nose. The sunlight couldn’t quite penetrate through the haze.

“I hate this kingdom,” he muttered through chattering teeth. No matter how fast he walked, the damp chill pierced through his cloak and made him shiver.

“You never did like the cold, not even in your first days in the Rift. The hotter it was, the happier you were—even when
we
smothered. I find it difficult to believe you were bred in such a place. It doesn’t suit you.” Crysallis watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Did you just imply I do something better than a Rifter? Was that a compliment? From you?”

Her smile didn’t last long, but her stance relaxed. “You do many things well, Your Majesty.”

“First, you confess you wish me dead. Then you start complimenting me. Witch, you are a contradiction.”

“I am Crysallis.”

Kalen slowed, turning his head to meet her gaze directly. “I don’t think I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Chrysalis is an old word. I wasn’t always called Crysallis, just as you were not always known as Kalen. It means change. Metamorphosis. Evolution. In some contexts, it means as you say—contradiction.”

“Let’s be direct with each other. How long do I have before you decide to try to rid the world of me?”

Crysallis froze, her eyes widening. “Your Majesty!”

“That time you used my title as a shocked protest,” he said, lifting his throbbing hand to rub at his brow. It didn’t ward away his growing headache. “No more games. You admitted you wanted me gone in Morinvale so the First could take over. Why haven’t you taken advantage of your chance? You’ve had ample opportunity.”

Her sigh was long and low. “Must you always look for your death?”

“Yes. You know why.”

“Does your hand hurt?”

Kalen glared at the woman for the change of subject. “Of course it does.”

“Your left hand.”

“As I said, of course it does.”

“The pull is getting stronger, then?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

“There is your answer. Even I am not so foolish to endanger you now, not when your Guardians hunt for you. They would rip me to pieces, and not even my power as a witch would save me. Pointlessly killing myself would not aid my cause—nothing will now, not with the skreed swarming.”

~Kill,~
the First demanded in frustration.

Kalen ignored it. “You know a lot more than most about the Guardians for someone who
isn’t
one. How?”

Crysallis swallowed, refusing to look him in the eyes. “It’s my fault you’re cursed. I’m the one who gave Gorishitorik his power. I’m the one who imprisoned the First. I’m the reason there is a Rift King.”

The First’s wrath exploded through Kalen’s head, and the pain of it blinded him. His legs refused to hold his weight. Sitting down hard, he stared up at the witch in shock. He felt his heart skip several beats before it started to race.

Crysallis
was responsible for the First?

If the creature’s reaction to the witch’s admission was any indication, she was telling the truth. Shock kept him speechless, and he shook as the implications of her words sank in. One by one, the things he had learned in the Rift, and the hundreds of little hints he’d gathered over the years, all fell into place.

Gorishitorik was his sword, carrying the name of King Slayer for as long as the Archives had existed.

There was no record of a man named Gorishitorik, not that he knew of. The first Rift King’s name had been stricken from the records, the Rift’s shame.

“Gorishitorik was a man who killed kings, wasn’t he?” Kalen’s voice came out as a choked whisper. “It wasn’t the name of the sword at all, was it?”

“The sword wears the name much better than the man. Yes, you’re correct. The true King Slayer was a man. The sword was cursed with its first wielder’s name, the only remnant of his existence. Gorishitorik loved nothing more than conquering those who defied him. When he won, he took the head of the ruler, but… he wasn’t content with that. He took their Queens as his prizes, all to prove his prowess as a stallion born to lead the herd.”

Kalen flinched. “He raped them.”

“It is because he sought to mount the world that we became as we are. It was our only way to survive, to become more than his brood mares.” Crysallis bit her lip, staring down at him. “Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t.” The admission pained him. How could he ever understand something like
that
?

A stricken expression marred Crysallis’s face. All he could see in her eyes and hear in her silence was anguish.

When she refused to speak, Kalen considered the circumstances. If Crysallis was to blame for everything—including the imprisonment of his people within the Rift—there was one conclusion he could believe. “You were behind the Covenant and the Rift’s Code.”

“I was. So long as there is a Rift King, so long as the thing within you remains within the Rift’s control, we will never be free. For that, you must die. The past can’t repeat itself. It must never repeat itself. The Rift King can’t Ride. Never again.” While the woman didn’t cry, Kalen heard the tears in her voice. “You’ll destroy us all.”

“Crysallis, have I ever broken the Code?”

The witch flinched at his soft-spoken question. “No.”

“I’m not Arik. I’m not Gorishitorik. I’m Kalen. I don’t want to mount
any
woman, let alone all of them.” He shook his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’d all be better off without a Rift King. Hellfires, woman, I want to give my Guardians their lives back. I’d like to live without always wondering who was trying to kill me. You’ve had a thousand years to destroy the Rift King. Why haven’t you? Why wait until now?”

“If killing the Rift King were so easy, I would have. You’re the strongest within the Rift.” Instead of anguish, Crysallis’s voice echoed her frustration.

“May the Lady of Light serve as my witness, we’re here. I’m unarmed. You could finish this now, and no one would be the wiser. Why hesitate? You could have killed me many times since you found me, and easily too. You’d win, and we both know it. Why not take advantage of it? You
know
I couldn’t fight you, not now. Not like this.” Kalen ran his hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught on a matted tangle.

Crysallis sank down on the ground beside him and sighed. “You’re still having trouble with your vision, and you’re struggling with your balance. I’m aware that you hit your head when you fell.” For a long moment, she remained silent, her expression troubled. “If only you were like Arik and the others.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry that I’m not Arik,” Kalen grumbled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You make me think there’s a chance you could change us, that you could restore the honor our people lost when Gorishitorik ruled,” she whispered.

“And people were telling me I’m blind. There are no men or women in any kingdom with more honor than a Rifter. You already saved yourselves. The only one here who needs to be saved is me, and we both know that the only escape from my situation is death. Unfortunately, I seem to be too stupid and stubborn to die. Now please, get a hold of yourself. You’re making my headache worse.”

When morning finally came, Breton waited sitting astride Perin while the rest of the camp roused, packed up, and prepared to march.

The process took a little more than an hour.

Breton shifted in the saddle, and the weight of wearing Gorishitorik both comforted and worried him. It didn’t offer him any promises, but it reassured him that the familiar tug of Kalen’s presence in the back of his head wasn’t some dreamed-up hallucination.

The sensation was strong enough to convince Breton that he could close the distance between them within a single day without effort. Wherever the Rift King was, he was close—close enough for Breton to feel. It took all of his will to keep facing south and east when all he wanted to do was head north.

As always, his duty kept him from going to where he wanted to be the most.

“Relax,” Maiten called out, and moments later, his friend reined in his horse alongside Perin.

Breton wrinkled his nose, shook his head, and shifted in the saddle. One of Perin’s delicate ears twisted back. “I wonder how long it will take him to get here.”

“With his cursed luck? We’ll be out to go rescue him within a week.” Maiten’s chuckle rumbled.

Breton glared at the other Guardian. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Relax, old friend. Varest is out looking for him. Between His Majesty, Varest, and Crysallis, they’ll be fine. Stop fretting. We’ll have enough to deal with once he returns. Really, I’d rather he take a few extra days to join us.” His friend’s mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “The longer he takes, the longer we live. He’s going to be unhappy with us.” After a moment’s hesitation, Maiten shrugged and rode his gelding in a circle before settling down. “He’s thirty, Breton. He’s plenty old enough to take care of himself.”

“Not when he’s blind he’s not!” Breton cursed as Perin shied and kicked out with his hind legs. Muscle by muscle, Breton forced himself to relax, easing his tight grip on the reins. His horse snorted, his ears twisted back in disapproval.

“Breton, you’re annoying Perin
and
you’re frightening the mercenaries. We do need to work with them for a while longer. While I’m a little worried, your foal will be fine. He’s too stubborn to die. Please calm yourself. At this rate, Perin’s going to dump you to prove a point. I don’t want to be the one who has to explain to His Majesty about how you cracked open your head because your horse bucked you from the saddle.”

Breton flexed his hand, twisting around to stare off into the distance. The line of mercenaries winded away from where he wanted to go the most, and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. The frustration of it all boiled his blood. “I know.”

“Then act like you know it, old friend. Look, if you’re that worried, let me help. Why don’t I take the new girl and His Majesty’s cousin and head out for him?
You
swore to care for the Delrose herd. I didn’t. I can talk Captain Silvereye into it—he wants His Majesty back with us almost as badly as you do. Derac’s ready to crawl out of his skin from the strength of the call. Convincing him to go will be easy, and I can fill them both in on their duties.”

Breton stilled. The idea wouldn’t bring Kalen back any faster, but with Maiten, Derac, and Moritta on the hunt, he could focus on other things, like keeping the rest of the Delrose herd under some semblance of control. That left him with one final problem: Verishi.

The young Danarite girl wouldn’t be easy to contain when she found out that someone was going for Kalen.

“You better take Verishi with you and our spare Rift horses. The Mithrian and Kelshite beasts aren’t fast enough,” he said after thinking the idea through a second time. “Just try not to teach her too many foul words. Your Danarite needs practice anyway. Between Moritta, Derac, and Ferethian, it’ll be shameful if you can’t find him. You may as well ask Dorit if he’ll carry Verishi.” Breton unbuckled Gorishitorik and held out the sheathed weapon. “See if you can get him to at least try to learn how to use it.”

“I might be able to do something so he isn’t a menace to himself at least.” Maiten didn’t sound too confident, but Breton ignored his friend’s tone. “I think it’d be harder keeping Dorit and Verishi apart. For a Danarite handmaiden and a Kelshite Yadesh, those two are quite close.”

“Things like that happen in the Rift,” Breton replied.

“Except we aren’t in the Rift.”

Grinning despite himself, Breton turned Perin in a circle before reining his gelding in. “Didn’t you know, Maiten?”

“Know what?” His friend’s tone was quiet and suspicious.

“Where the Rift King roams
is
the Rift.”

“And people wonder why outsiders are convinced we’re out to conquer them all. This is why,” Maiten grumbled.

“I’m fairly certain we haven’t attempted to conquer anything in over a thousand years.” That was before the Covenant, and a part of the Rift’s history that no one liked to talk about.

It only lived on through the festivals, during the war games when the Rift King led the Rifters to make-believe battle, clad entirely in red.

“Trust a tiny Kelshite to try to change a perfectly good and peaceful tradition.” Maiten’s laughter sounded forced. “What is Kalen thinking? For him to come so far out of the Rift… Do you think he’s after the Kelsh king’s head?”

“We still don’t know why he left the Rift. We still don’t know what happened in that cave,” Breton reminded Maiten in a low tone. “And he isn’t so bloodthirsty. I can’t imagine him coming out just to make heads roll.”

“He wasn’t always so bloodthirsty, but we changed him. I think that, perhaps, was the worst crime of all.” Maiten hesitated and sighed. “I’ll bring your foal back to you. Try not to whip him too hard when we return. He’s had a harder time than you have lately.”

“Ride fast.”

“Not safe?” Maiten scowled at him.

“I know better than to ask the impossible.”

~~*~~

Not ten minutes after Maiten had gotten approval to leave the camp and go in search of the Rift King, Breton was cornered by a red-faced Lord Delrose sitting astride a gray horse. The dark-haired man trembled, and his icy blue eyes matched Kalen’s at his angriest.

Breton braced himself for the Kelshite’s wrath.

“Where is my son?”

There were many ways Breton could’ve answered, but he settled with the truth. “His Majesty was caught on the other side of the swarm. Several Guardians are heading to him now. He’s fine.”

“He’s blind and alone. How does that, exactly, constitute as
fine
?”

After contemplating whether or not it would violate the Code if he strangled the Rift King’s sire, Breton sighed. Before he could answer, Ceres joined them.

Kalen’s foal took one look between him and Lord Delrose, and stiffened in the saddle. “What’s going on?”

“Lord Delrose was curious about the whereabouts of the foal he sired,” Breton said, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

“Father’s fine,” Ceres said with so much confidence that Breton smiled.

Lord Delrose’s frown deepened. “First of all, he is not your Fath—”

Ceres’s gelding rammed the Kelshite horse in the shoulder. In a movement too fast for Breton to follow, the young Guardian pressed a dagger to Lord Delroses’s throat. “Father is safe. Mind your own folk, Kelshite. He’s
ours
now. You had your chance with him, and you chose to try to kill him. You may have sired him, but Breton’s his father, as he is
my
father, and if you insult our family again, I’ll cut your tongue out.”

“Enough, Ceres,” Breton ordered. The young man’s angry glare settled on him. “Let Lord Delrose keep his tongue for now. If you want to teach him a real lesson on consequence, you’d take his arm instead. That way, we’d learn if he’s a match for your father.”

Lord Delrose’s face turned a deeper shade of crimson.

Grumbling curses, Ceres lowered his dagger. “You’re too easy on him, Breton.”

“I know better than to cross your father in this matter. Put the dagger away and be civil.”

After a long moment of hesitation, Kalen’s foal sighed and sheathed his blade. “Fine.”

“Lord Delrose, His Majesty is safe. If that has to be good enough for me, it is good enough for you.”

The Kelshite frowned. “How could you let him go off on his own like that?”

“None of us knew that the swarm was coming. If we had, I assure you that things would be different. Maiten’s choice to take His Majesty out to see his horses was the correct one. Honey is a smart horse. She will keep him safe. He does not need his sight when he has her. Our horses are, like yours, terrified of the swarm. He’s probably safer than we are by now.”

~Honey isn’t with him,~
Satrin announced, and a moment later, the Yadesh appeared from amongst the line of mercenaries.
~She’s here.~

Breton froze, and the concerns Lord Delrose had voiced melded with his own, and all of his worries stampeded through his head. A chill swept over him. “Satrin, what are you talking about?”

~He sent her with Relas, to try to save a village from a swarm. I have been told he felt he would slow them down.~

“Who is Relas?”

Lord Delrose’s face paled to greenish gray. “Relas is a Yadesh. But what is she doing
here
, Satrin? She shouldn’t be here.”

~I was not told why, Lord Delrose.~

“That is like him. He’s practical,” Breton acknowledged, although speaking the words sickened him. “We know he wasn’t caught in the swarm. Varest, Maiten, and Moritta will take care of him,” he said, pausing to consider whether or not to mention Lord Delrose’s nephew among those hunting for the Rift King. He decided against it. “He’s many things, but he isn’t stupid. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

~Relas told me as much.~
Satrin snorted.
~I thought you would want to know. If you’d like, I will go after the Guardians. Even astride Rift horses, it won’t take me too long to catch up with them.~

“Go,” Breton ordered.

The Yadesh bobbed his head, whirled around, and cantered off, his tail bannering.

“You can’t just order a Yadesh around,” Lord Delrose spluttered.

Breton ran his hand through his hair, drawing several deep breaths until the urge to crack his fist into the Kelshite’s jaw faded. “I just did. If you don’t like it, by all means, chase after him and order him around yourself.”

“You’re an easy man to hate, Guardian.”

“However will I sleep tonight?” Breton considered his options. Chasing after Satrin was his favorite, but he’d given his word to protect the Delrose herd—including Lord Delrose. As always, he was forced to watch, wait, and wonder. “Ceres, please keep Lord Delrose company. I need to go see Captain Silvereye.”

~~*~~

Breton found Captain Silvereye at the front of the line, speaking to several of his mercenaries. While he waited, he slid off Perin’s back, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared off into the distance. Dark smoke marked the swarm’s path. The haze stretched as far as he could see.

When the Mithrian joined him, the man shook his head. “First, you lose the Rift King. Then, as though that weren’t bad enough, the Kelshite Princess comes directly to us—with his horse. You Rifters are going to be the death of me.”

Breton answered Captain Silvereye’s comment with a shrug. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the Mithrian had already learned of the woman’s presence in the camp.

“I think it’s one Rifter in particular, sir,” he replied when the silence dragged on for too long. How many times had he exclaimed Kalen would be the death of him? The Rift King had laughed. The Guardians, unlike during Arik’s reign, survived—to a certain extent, they even thrived. During Arik’s reign, no one had dared to say such things, lest it become a reality.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’ll be Rifters in general.” Captain Silvereye shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m rather surprised that she is here,” Breton said, unable to suppress his frown. What
was
the Kelshite princess doing so close to Morinvale? He wanted to pace, but caught himself with one foot lifted. He settled, reaching out to pat Perin’s neck.

There was one good thing about the situation. While Kalen and Honey had been separated, his foal had survived the swarm. Maiten, Varest, Derac, and Moritta could take care of the rest. Even if Crysallis found the Rift King first, the witch always kept her word. She would bring Kalen back.

He relaxed, letting out his breath in a relieved sigh. Once Kalen reunited with the Mithrian company, it was only a matter of time before they could return to the Rift where they belonged.

Captain Silvereye scratched at his scalp, his brow furrowing. “I find myself baffled by this development, as well as worried. It could prove very, very beneficial for us. However, I am concerned as to what the young lady is doing in this area, and why she was alone.”

“And why she had His Majesty’s horse?” Breton asked.