Child of the Kaites (The Firstborn's Legacy Book 1) Page 20

  The night conceals Drigo’s expression. He pulls both hands from behind his back. “Then I probably shouldn’t return these,” he says, and throws whatever is in his hands.

  They twist through the sky and clang to the ground in front of us.

  “Huh,” Drigo says. “In my head, the Champions caught those.”

  I crouch and reach for the objects. Cool, smooth, sharp—the instant my fingers touch it, familiarity rushes through me.

  “You brought us our swords,” Savi wonders, lifting Elgarnoseth from the ground.

  “Yep. Is that enough to get me into your group?” Drigo asks.

  I start to remind him of what I said about following Aia, but we’ve wasted too much time as it is. We’ll have plenty of time to clarify that on the road. “Make sure you keep up,” I tell him. “Okay, Forziel, lead the way.”

  “Hope you’re up for another run,” Forziel says, hopping forward. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

  Chapter 27

  My nightmare wakes me while the sun still shines. I draw a hand over my face. The vision, unchanged in all my years on Ira, keeps changing since we reached Izyphor. I dreamed that the sultan threatened death to Maraiah, but a gigantic corpse arose and started consuming first Maraiah and then all of Orrock.

  I turn over, seeking Saviayr. The dirt is scuffed where he slept, but he isn’t there. My heart beats faster than it was already beating. My breaths come in short gasps.

  Did I imagine him? Am I back on Ira?

  No, there is an indentation from his body. Yori, Nihae, Forziel, Laen, Hoenna, and Drigo sleep not far away. The past week and a half were real. I close my eyes.

  A noise nearby. I bolt straight up, eyes stretched wide. Is Aivenah coming to devour? Have the Izyphorns found us?

  Oh, Aia, don’t let Aivenah kill Savi!

  The noise comes again—just a pebble drawn off the side of the canyon by the inexorable pull of the ground. I press against my forehead. Calm down, Rai. It was just a nightmare. Aivenah is not here.

  When my breathing slows to almost-normal, I look closer at my surroundings. Sky, blue enough to rival the depth of the ocean on a clear day, stretches overhead. The canyon walls, red ribboned with white, block the horizon with edges like jagged coral. Sage dusts the canyon top and huddles in the shadows down here on the dry riverbed.

  Piles of pebbles encircle my sleeping companions. We had to clear the gravel away this morning to make sleep on the ground possible.

  I adjust my sandal strap and pick my way along the canyon floor, searching for Saviayr. Out of sight of the camp, I find him. He sits hunched forward on the ground, face in his hands.

  Saviayr can hear me approach—the pebbles on the ground make sure of that—but he doesn’t acknowledge me. I stop at his shoulder. “Savi?”

  He sniffs.

  I sit next to him. When my hands rest on his back, he shudders. “I didn’t want⎼” A gasp interrupts him. He heaves for breath.

  I wrap an arm around his back and draw his head to my shoulder. It used to be a familiar gesture. We had our share of comforting each other when we were children, adolescents in an unjust world. Now, it feels awkward.

  Savi doesn’t protest, though. His warm arms wrap around me, shaking. He hides his face against my neck. Just like that, the awkwardness disappears.

  A tear trails down my cheek. Savi clutches the fabric of my vest, pulling me closer. The muscles in his back tense. I run my hands over his shoulders and press my lips to his hair.

  A sob ripples through him.

  That sob crumbles the defenses Savi’s been holding onto since Elesekk died. He weeps. I comb my fingers through his sandy curls and cry with him.

  When his sobs abate, Savi says, in a voice thick with tears, “It’s not right. Death isn’t right.”

  I feel that truth to my very core. Elesekk’s death—and those of my parents—chafes against my soul like sand rubbing on a sore. Death is not right. It’s not natural. “Life was never supposed to end,” I agree.

  But if life was never supposed to end, what do we do now? How do we live in a world that isn’t what it should be?

  Savi is crying again. This time is less violent, not grief pushed down and held at bay for too long. This time is lighter, somehow, but lasts longer.

  I draw his head to my chest and rock back and forth.

  When some of the tension in his shoulders unwinds, Savi relaxes into me. His breathing slows, growing steadier. His arms loosen their firm grip, but he doesn’t let go.

  Despite everything, it feels like a respite. We hold each other close. I wish we had more time to be like this, just the two of us.

  But it cannot be, not yet. We have a people to free first.

  The bright blue sky is darker now, signaling the onset of evening. I kiss Savi’s head again. “Do you think you’re up for going back to camp?”

  Savi sits up and blows out a deep breath. He rubs his sleeve over his red face, though one arm stays around me. “We ought to,” he sighs. First, though, he leans close and kisses me.

  When he pulls away, I’m smiling and his eyes look less haunted. I stand and offer him a hand.

  Savi holds it all the way back to camp. It makes it more difficult to navigate the places where the river’s piled pebbles high, but I don’t mind. As we wander back down the dry canyon, I wish we could never let go of each other.

  Everyone is awake now, though Forziel is still sitting where he slept, rubbing his drooping eyes. Just before we reach them, Savi tugs my hand until I meet his eyes. “I love you.” It feels like both a promise and thanks.

  “I love you,” I reply. On impulse, I raise to my toes and brush my lips over his.

  Forziel cheers. “That’s right, remind us you’re actually married.”

  Yori makes gagging sounds. “Stop it, please. Don’t encourage them. No one wants to see their siblings kiss.”

  My cheeks heat as I pull back from the kiss. The upward quirk of Savi’s lips makes it worthwhile.

  Nihae looks over at me, and her eyes widen. She covers her mouth. “Rai? What are you—hae-Aia, you’re alive!” She runs toward me and wraps me in a hug.

  I frown. What?

  Belatedly, I hug Nihae back. “Of course I am. Mama, I was just talking with Savi.”

  Nihae pulls back and cradles my face. “Where have you been? We thought you were dead.”

  “No—no, we didn’t think that,” Forziel assures us. His forehead is creased. “We’re just waking up. Hardly had time to miss you.”

  Nihae’s eyebrows lower. “Of course we missed you! We had a funeral for you when the slavemaster showed us your chanavea.”

  “Mama?” Fear makes Yori’s voice sound young.

  Hoenna clucks—noise of understanding. At least someone knows what’s going on. I feel strangely suspended in air, about to fall. Hoenna steps up beside Nihae and, with a stern look at the rest of us, says, “You’re right. There must have been some misunderstanding. What a blessing that she is alive and leading us to freedom from Izyphor!”

  A smile eats the confusion on Nihae’s face. Her hands drop to my shoulders. “Hae-Aia you are alive,” she repeats softly.

  “Now, let’s get ready to go with her.” Hoenna hands Nihae a crust of bread and nudges her toward the blanket she slept on. When she shuffles away, the Rhilissi steps closer to Saviayr and me. “I’ve had suspicions,” he whispers, “but I’m pretty sure now. Your mother has the Wasting Curse. Did you know?”

  Acid grows in my stomach. Savi’s hand tightens in mine. “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “The Wasting Curse.” Hoenna waves at his head. “My people say the ghouls choose the kindest souls and kill them by drinking their minds. Has she been forgetful?”

  It is too dreadful to admit out loud. I look to Savi. He doesn’t even move.

  Hoenna takes our silence as confirmation. He rests a hand on each of our shoulders. “My deep condolences. The long goodbye of the Wasting Curse is the greatest evil th
e ghouls have devised. In the meantime, it is kindest to Nihae to play along when she forgets. Don’t try to correct her or remind her. She won’t remember.”

  “But she knows Rai’s alive,” Savi protests. “She was there when we found her on Ira. Mama was the first of us to hug her again! She’s been around Rai for almost two weeks.”

  Hoenna nods. “I know it seems that way. But the Wasting Curse, it starts by drawing away recent memories first.”

  I have few tears left after crying with Savi. Even though Hoenna’s announcement makes my throat clench, I can’t cry again yet. I take a slow breath. “That’s horrible.”

  “Is there nothing we can do to stop it?” Yori asks, voice stronger.

  Hoenna shakes his head. This new grief settles over me like a heavy cloak.

  But it’s only a day to the Feast of Wheat, and for all the ground we’ve covered, we still have too far to go. If there’s nothing we can do for Nihae—I press my lips together to steady them— “Then we have to keep moving forward now. How long till we’re ready to leave?”

  “Good news is we’re traveling light,” Drigo says. He raises one of the three packs of supplies we have. Hoenna had brought two when he joined us, and Drigo one. “So if you’re ready, we can breakfast as we walk.”

  Forziel bounces over the ground, undisturbed by Hoenna’s revelation. “Yes! Let’s go! We’re getting close to the Ruined City of Tivanik. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

  He’s already skipping up the canyon.

  “I’ll get Mama ready,” Savi says. He squeezes my hand before letting go.

  Before the sun sets, we’re back on the way to the capital.

  Yori and I fall in step early in the evening. Forziel’s been pushing us hard, so she and I haven’t had the opportunity to talk yet. Bright and exuberant, Yori now says, “Hi, sister.”

  Her cheerfulness coaxes a smile from me. I echo her greeting, our childhood habit.

  “So,” Yori says, “you’re alive.”

  I hold out my arm to her and poke it. “As you can see.”

  Yori chuckles. “Care to share what you’ve been up to?”

  Three years are a lot to cover, but we do our best. With Savi, knowledge of our years apart brings me wistful discomfort. With Yori, it brings me hopeful excitement. I feel less pressure to immediately know her perfectly. I look forward to getting reacquainted with my little sister.

  “Hae-Aia for reuniting you with Savi—and for breaking through both of your stubbornness,” Yori says with a poke when we’ve caught each other up on the basics.

  I flinch away from her finger and say, “Ow!” on instinct. “Hae-Aia. And how are you doing, now?” I think of her crying the day we spent with the bandits, of Nihae starting to lose her memory, of holding Savi while we cried.

  Yori lifts a peaceful smile to the sky. “I am well. I miss Papa Elesekk, of course, and I will as long as I live. But he will walk again.” Conviction strengthens her last statement. When Yori grins at me, I know she means it.

  I believe, just as she does. I wish the thought brought me the same comfort it seems to bring Yori. Instead, what I told Savi earlier rolls around in my head. Life was never supposed to end. How do I reconcile reality with this truth? How do I let go of the wrongness of Elesekk’s death?

  “We’re almost there!” Forziel exclaims, hopping around to walk backward. “The Ruined City of Tivanik. Before the first sultan united the Izyphorns, there were a hundred years of warring states, and before those hundred years, mighty lords ruled an empire even mightier than Izyphor is today. And their whole capital city was dug into the side of the canyon!”

  “We won’t have time for sightseeing,” I warn Forziel when he pauses for breath. The days are slipping away too quickly, and our legs cover the desert too slowly. “The Feast is tomorrow.”

  Forziel turns back forward and waves dismissively. “Yeah, but it’s carved in the canyon, and they say it looks like a giant scorpion from above. That’s why they named it after the divinity Tivan Firebringer.”

  Yori tilts her head. “How do they know what it looks like from above?”

  Forziel shrugs. “No idea. But the insurgent sultan Sheved hid out there, and they say he smuggled in piles of Izyphorn royal treasures. I wonder if we’ll find any?”

  Drigo’s attention focuses on the Maraian boy. “Treasure? Where’d he hide it?”

  “Who knows?” Forziel laughs. “Isn’t that the fun of it?”

  Hoenna throws a stern look at Drigo. “That’s Altik the Carinite’s territory.”

  “I ain’t scared of Altik,” Drigo grumbles. The dip of his shoulders and disappointed droop of his face suggests otherwise. Hoenna snorts.

  I’m about to repeat that we don’t have time for sightseeing when the back of my neck prickles. The hairs on my arms stand straight up, even though the evening is scarcely cooler than the day. Forziel, continuing to ramble on about the Ruined City, doesn’t notice. Savi’s head lifts, and his shoulders tense, though. “Be quiet,” I tell the group.

  “Thank you,” Drigo groans. “Is he always this annoying?”

  I shush him and glance over my shoulder. Something isn’t right.

  “What,” Drigo says, “do none of us get to talk?”

  “Hush,” Savi rebukes him. He rests his hand on Elgarnoseth. “Rai?”

  No dust cloud, behind or before us. No grating of the ground shifting. And the sky—too little of it is visible to tell, too much hidden by the canyon walls.

  “We need to hurry.” I walk faster, but it’s not fast enough. A fresh wave of apprehension, and I break into a run.

  The bandits call out questions. Savi, Nihae, Yori, and Forziel just follow. Nihae seems to have regained her memory, hae-Aia—at least for now. I don’t know how we’d face what’s coming otherwise.

  Ahead, west, a tendril of cloud unfurls over the edge of the canyon. It moves fast, the harbinger of a fleet of clouds. Only they aren’t normal clouds.

  The bandits pull up short. “What on...” Hoenna trails off, mouth open. Drigo and Laen stare wide-mouthed at the sky.

  Why did I send Nhardah away with the baby? He can’t fight aivenkaites, but at least they can’t kill him. I need him as an extra barrier for these six people who are completely unarmed against the aivenkaites.

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Drigo points at the clouds, which are now an ever-deepening gray. “Those clouds look like—like lions and snakes and scorpions and—and other things, right? But clouds don’t do that.”

  “I thought Onili said you all knew about the kaites and aivenkaites,” Savi says. He draws his sword.

  I do the same.

  Drigo sputters. “Yeah, but...but they can do that?”

  Hoenna shifts on his feet. “Which ones are those?”

  “Aivenkaites,” I say.

  “They don’t like us,” Forziel adds.

  Drigo swears.

  “Can we outrun them?” Laen glances back.

  Of course we can’t outrun aivenkaites, but we might be able to avoid their scheme this time.

  The aivenkaites are being smart. They know we have the Swords of the Champions and won’t easily be defeated, so they’re attacking from a distance. They’ve drawn up water and made themselves into clouds, and they’ll release it over the canyon.

  “Forziel, is there a way we can get to high ground?”

  The boy rubs his shoulder. His chanavea flashes. “Yeah, but not by going back, not for a ways. The closest is forward, in the Ruined City.”

  “Unless we get to high ground,” I say, “we’re about to be swept away in a flash flood.”

  Chapter 28

  We scatter gravel as we run. Forziel is first, just in front of me, and Savi brings up the rear. The sun has set, and the only light comes from the moons and stars.

  The clouds switch directions, wheeling down the canyon. Lightning fractures the sky. Thunder rattles loose dust that dribbles down the towering canyon walls.

  Aia, don�
��t let any of us die.

  Flash!—boom!—right after each other, almost on top of us.

  “Remind me why we’re running toward the crazy demon storm?” Drigo shouts.

  “We’re trapped in a canyon,” Forziel yells. “Gotta get higher before it floods.”

  Will we reach the ruins in time? Will the aivenkaites leave if we do?

  Will they try to drag us into the water as they tried to drown me at my beach?

  Can Savi and I protect everyone?

  Lightning splinters inside the clouds. It silhouettes undulating shapes, humanoid and animalesque mixing together.

  Black dots float in my eyes.

  Aia, don’t let anyone die.

  Hot wetness flicks onto my forehead. Another warm drop pricks my arm.

  “It’s starting to rain,” Drigo says.

  “Really?” Laen snaps.

  “We’re all anxious right now,” Yori says lightly, somehow diffusing the tension between them.

  “Faster,” Forziel calls. He speeds up.

  The pebbles darken, slickened by the drops falling faster from the black clouds. My weak ankle twists, and I almost go down. I stumble forward.

  The rain falls faster. The gravel on the canyon floor fades into red sand, turning ever darker as it soaks up more water.

  Splash through a puddle. Water in my sandal. Old leather slick under my calloused heels.

  The rain falls faster. My clothes are as wet as when we swam through the river. I gasp for air through the deluge.

  Lightning glares again, and a clap stops my heart before sending it racing.

  The aivenkaites stay in the cloud. They shout in their foul language and hurl water at us.

  Yori urges Nihae on. Savi shouts, “How much further?”

  “Just keep running,” Forziel yells.

  The rain falls harder. It streams over my head, down my face, into my eyes. Every step sprays muddy water. Nihae behind me splatters my back with ruddy mud, and I do the same for Forziel.

  “There!” Forziel points. Through a curtain of rain, a hole stands high in the canyon wall. Steps lead up to it from what is quickly turning back into a riverbed.

  The rain falls harder. We have to wade now, careful with the river rushing above our ankles. One wrong step, and we’ll lose our footing. I shield my eyes with my sword hand and peer up. The clouds are lower, the aivenkaites louder. They flash white light, blinding.