Surrender (29 page)

31-Winter Solstice

They were unnaturally calm as Kaliel’s chest heaved in desperation. Grains of sand stuck to her knees as her fingers curled around bits of damp sand, bringing it to the surface. She ran her hands along the dry grains on top and her sobbing ceased for a moment. All that remained was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

The Shee huddled near the edge of the beach, concealing themselves behind broad leaves. Her vision blurred as she gazed out at the glade. If it were more than three feet deep she would have poured herself into its depths, an attempt to calm her battered soul. The Shee were alarmed. She felt their response to her crushing sense of devastation, and their reluctance to help made her feel hopeless. She let out a deep breath and hung her head.

“Ahdunie,” someone whispered.

Kaliel looked up, her eyes darting around the village. A small woman merely twelve inches tall shrouded in a silver silk cloth and shimmering silver wings moved towards her. It was the Kiirar of the Shee. She let out a breath and her body slumped into the sand.

“Please,” Kaliel whispered. Her thoughts carried the extent of her request. She knew the elder Kiirar understood.

The ancient woman touched her arm and a buzz of energy rushed through her. “Nay child,” she said. Her voice rang out like chimes, the words echoing in the air.

Kaliel shuddered. “Please, I need to awaken Avred.” There was a gasp that moved through the forest like a gust of wind. Her stomach curled in knots.

“We will not honor your request.”

Kaliel gaped at her. “Why not?”

“The volcano is dangerous.” The woman moved to the sand and placed her tiny feet in it. They created miniature footsteps as she walked to the bushes where the others gathered.

“What about the battle?” Kaliel tried to control herself, but the emotions festering within her threatened to overload her body. She needed to change the outcome she had caused. She needed to stop the foe.

“Let the Gatekeeper take care of it,” the woman said as she passed into the forest.

Kaliel felt sick. She couldn’t speak with the Gatekeeper; she knew its answer would hurt her more than she could bear—exile. Since Krishani betrayed Avristar, she couldn’t ask the land for help. Aguish built up, a slow ache that burned from the inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut as the woman walked away, her mind a haze of disorientation.

There were footsteps on the ground far away, a rumbling sensation moving through the land.

The battle had begun.

She clenched her fist, nervous. Krishani was in the middle of it.

Please stay alive,
she thought.

The rolling hills of Orlondir stretched on without end. In her mind she was taking careful steps across the grass, rising and falling with the folds of the land. Her ivory dress fluttered in the wind, her hair whipped around her, covering her face in strands of white. She clasped her hands together and held them at her chest, her heart sputtering unevenly. She trembled as she found the rise of a hill and saw all the terrible things she had caused stretched before her. The clanging of swords against shields, the battle cries, the fallen bodies. She yelped and drew her arms closer to her chest, her eyes frantically searching the shapes of the kinfolk for Krishani.

Spotting him in the distance, she watched as he swung away from one of the black-skinned creatures and glanced briefly into the hills, his eyes wide with terror. She cringed as another one tackled him from behind and he hastily jabbed his sword into the creature’s side.

A gurgle erupted from her throat as she choked on her tears. The vision was like her dreams, vivid and real, as though she was really standing on the hill watching it all. Nothing but grief poured through her. She had to convince the Kiirar to let her awaken Avred. There had to be something she could do to help. All of them were fighting for her. She recognized the kinfolk from Evennses. Even Pux was fighting.

When she opened her eyes she was laying on the sand at the edge of the lagoon. Nothing but quiet, crickets creaking, water lapping up against the shore. She watched a lily pad float across the surface, beautiful, benign. It was the last wisps of life, fleeting, fragile, nonexistent. She furrowed her brow in frustration and squeezed her eyes shut, the battlefield coming into view again, her astral form planted at the top of the hill.

She found Krishani in the midst of the fray, and she watched him fight. Even when her heart felt like it was going to explode, even when screams pierced the air, even when tears made her vision blurry. She watched because she couldn’t help them, because she couldn’t face what they were facing.

She flushed with heat as the Daed swept across the battlefield, their long flowing cloaks flapping in the wind. She recognized them. Flashes of the flames rolling across one of them crossed her mind. She pushed it away along with the rosy pink eyes of the Flame that was trapped in a little orb, a prisoner to the Valtanyana. As she watched, six of them surround the battlefield, intense apprehension filled her. One of them pulled out a thin blade and stalked towards Krishani.

“Krishani!” she yelped. Her eyes flew open. The wind rippled across the lagoon and rustled her hair. She braced herself, palms against the sand, heaving in and out, the revelation hitting her with full force.

“He’ll die,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

She glanced at the bushes, hoping the Shee knew what they were putting her through, hoping they heard what she said.

“He will die!” she screamed at them, her tone sharp, cutting.

The bushes rustled and the Kiirar emerged, the little woman keeping her distance as she hung at the edge of the beach. Her silver eyes bore into Kaliel’s. “One death does not mean all will perish.”

Kaliel growled. She had never heard anything more primitive erupt from her lips, but it escaped from her mouth in a giant roar. She wanted to tackle the Kiirar and force her to give up the secret to awakening Avred. She wanted to rip the trees from their roots and destroy the homes of the Shee. She had never been so angry in all her life. The Flame flooded to the surface, her aura erupting in a shower of amethyst flames that flared off her body like the sun. She felt a pseudo sense of strength and saw her reflection in the lagoon, her eyes a piercing violet.

“Wretched Kiirar!” she spat.

The Shee withdrew to their homes, cowering from the grandeur of her presence.

Kaliel pushed herself up and rested on her knees. She gazed at the water, trying to pull together the pieces of her heart. If she didn’t awaken Avred, the enemy that craved to possess her would find her and take her, and everything would be lost. She felt sick at the thought of being his pawn.

“Ro tulten lye,” she said quietly into the night. Unsure if the Kiirar heard it, she wanted them to understand her pain. Nothing happened. The night remained quiet. She sat there staring at the lagoon, waiting for Krishani to die. Her stomach dropped. Her body slumped as she hung her head and let the blackness engulf her.

• • •

Krishani was no expert with the enemy. He simply moved when he felt the need to move and thrust his sword when he had a good opportunity. The defensive training finally began to make sense. He could feel the creatures near him and knew when to dodge, duck, lunge and block. It was like a dance, and the more creatures that fell, the better he began to feel.

He closed his eyes and twisted around, his sword piercing the body of another one behind him. He pulled it out and then raised it straight above his head and thrust it into the back of one that was smothering a fallen comrade. Krishani kicked it in the side. His heart lunged as he looked at the face of the kinfolk. It was one of the brothers from Amersil. As hard as they were fighting, the creatures were stronger.

Vertigo set in as he gazed across the battlefield. More were coming from the northeast. The ground was already covered with bodies. He glanced down. Not only were the bodies of the enemy strewn around him, but the bodies of the kinfolk lay beside them. Wispy smoke rose from the kinfolks’ bodies and twisted into the sky. Their numbers were dwindling; it would be dumb luck if they won. His eyes found the cavalry and his heart sunk. Only six of them were left.

Another creature rushed him and he listlessly raised his sword. He desperately wanted it to be over. The creature growled and his mind switched back to focusing on the battle. He clutched his sword and when the creature tried to land a blow, he ducked out of the way and stabbed it in the neck. Dark liquid poured out of the wound as the creature fell on the grass.

A horn sounded at the far edge of the field and everything stopped. The creatures scampered away, regrouping, forming a cluster near the opposite end of the field. There was a moan nearby and Krishani glanced around. He saw someone he didn’t recognize laying in the grass, his arm covered in blood. He was panting and clutching his chest plate. Krishani offered him his hand and pulled the kinfolk to his feet.

“Thank you,” the kinfolk mumbled as he stood and tried to regain himself. Krishani went to say something when a cold wind pulled his attention away.

The Daed emerged from the northeast with elegance, their cloaks sweeping across the land as their muscular forms towered above the creatures. Krishani panicked as he counted six of them. They spread to either side of the battlefield and removed their hoods, revealing elven features and haunting hate-filled eyes. There was no doubt by the way that they carried themselves that they were extremely skilled warriors. He watched as one with tattoos on his face and long dark hair approached Istar.

“I’runya,”
the Flame,
one of the Daed hissed.

Istar roared in contempt and kicked him. The Daed was too quick. He slid away from Istar, laughing and turning from the battlefield.

The kinfolk had gathered on one side of the field and were tending to their wounds. Krishani stood with the lot of them and noticed Pux in the crowd, still alive. There was an eerie chill in the air as the Daed withdrew to the edges of the field. Istar rode towards the kinfolk, his mouth working like he was speaking but no sound came out. A shrill cry pierced the sky as the gargoyles overhead became restless. The creatures, seemingly under the hypnosis of the Daed, snapped back to life and the battle continued. Krishani noticed that both groups were quickly losing numbers, even the gargoyles were strewn across the land, licking their wounds.

Krishani raised his sword as the creatures bounded towards him and the kinfolk, the battlefield becoming a mess. This time his eyes followed the Daed with the tattoos on his face. Krishani felt like he was being watched, and as he kicked another of the black-skinned creatures away, the Daed with the tattooed face singled him out. Krishani twisted his sword into another of the creatures and froze. His eyes met with those of the tattooed warrior. Anger washed over him. Tonight, this Daed would die. He just didn’t know who or what would kill him.

The Daed pulled out a thin sword and cocked his head to the side, a silent challenge. Krishani gulped and backed away, thinking of Wraynas. He was no match for this enemy. Even if he could focus on anything but Kaliel and her safety, there was no way he would live. His foot slipped on a body and he went careening to the ground. He landed on armor-covered carcasses and lost weapons. He yelped as his hand tread over something hard.

Krishani scrambled to his feet and turned away from the battlefield. There was no way he was strong enough to face a formidable enemy like The Daed. Again, he tripped and tumbled onto his hands and knees, his helmet falling on the ground. He glanced at the stables and relief washed over him. Atara and the other ladies approached the battlefield. He took a deep breath as the elders glided past him and began striking down enemies with their force.

Krishani went to stab another of the creatures when he saw someone riding from the northwest of Avristar. His eyes widened as Mallorn came into view. He ran towards him. Mallorn would know if Kaliel was safe.

“Mallorn!” Krishani shouted as he tried to bring his hand up to wave. His shoulder ached with stitches of pain that shot into the back of his head and made him dizzy. He swayed on his heels and tried to find his balance as the horse neared the battle. Mallorn had a grave expression on his face.

“How is Kaliel?” Krishani asked, forgetting all about the battle behind him, and the enemies that were winning.

Mallorn pressed his lips together. “She’s fine, the Shee will help,” he answered. “Are you wounded?”

Krishani shook his head. He closed his eyes and tried to force out the crippling feelings of uncertainty and fear weighing him down. It wasn’t the blood on the battlefield, but what the Ferryman had said to him.
You will find similar sorry sites I’m sure.
This wasn’t a dream. He felt the souls rising out of the bodies, their pain curling around him, forcing him to feel delirious and sick. He wanted to touch their foreheads, allow them safe passage to the Great Hall, but he knew he couldn’t go back without endangering himself.

“Are you certain she’s safe?” Krishani asked.

Mallorn nodded. “She’s going to see Avred. Crestaos won’t find her.”

Krishani wanted to throw himself into the battle, but the word on Pux’s lips stopped him. “Avred isn’t a volcano, is he?”

A shadow crossed Mallorn’s face, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. “Avred won’t let Crestaos take her.”

Krishani nodded, strength flowing into him. He gripped his sword with all the force he could muster and held it aloft. “Then we will end them,” he said. It was a promise.

He got his second wind as Mallorn grimaced and followed him into battle.

* * *