Windborn, p.18
Windborn, page 18
An idea flashed through her head, and she paused. The crossbow!
Kneeling, she located the longest corridor of moonlight between tree trunks and fired close to the ground. The arrow crashed through the brush, rustling leaves and branches—just like she would have if she’d run in that direction. To give the guards more reason to think she’d run that way, she grabbed another arrow and fired again.
The footsteps stopped. Then, someone yelled, “That way!”
To confirm their erroneous suspicions, she fumbled for the third—and final—arrow, figuring she might as well use it, since one shot wouldn’t do her much good. She fired one last time and was rewarded with a shout of, “Did you hear that? She’s over there!”
The noises moved away from her, and her muscles melted with relief. Thank Celeste, it worked!
After waiting a few moments for the sounds of their footsteps to fade into the distance, she turned in the opposite direction. Leaving the crossbow behind, since without arrows it would only be a burden, she crept through the woods as silently as possible.
ARRIN WASN’T SURE HOW long she’d been moving, stepping carefully around branches in an effort to keep Lady Bolliore’s guards from hearing her, but she hadn’t detected any noises or footsteps for several minutes. She desperately hoped that meant they were far enough away that they wouldn’t find her, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain upright. A full day of walking with hardly any breaks, followed by the mad chase that had nearly landed her an arrow through the skull, and all on a crust of bread and half a canteen of water—no wonder she was worn out.
She wished she had some inkling as to where she was actually going, but her sole concern when she’d run off the main road had been to get away. As far as she could tell, the forest was uniformly comprised of brush and trees, with no features to set one clump of plants apart from the other.
Her stomach tightened as she realized how hopelessly lost she was. The forest was enormous—for all she knew, she wouldn’t even be able to find her way out, let alone make it to the Sapphire Bastille.
If it weren’t for her physical needs—the aching of her muscles, the lightness of her head, the dryness of her throat—she might have fallen into full-blown panic. But she was too tired for even that. Her vision swam, making the tree trunks appear to sway, and a vaguely visible swirl of steam wafted from her burning face. She was sure she would pass out soon unless she found some respite.
A glimmer caught her attention—a flutter of glowing white on a glassy texture. Immediately recognizing it as water reflecting the bright moonlight, she dashed toward it, too eager to care how much noise she made anymore.
As she drew closer, she found a calm river, the widest she’d ever seen, flowing serenely along a winding path. It was so clear, she glimpsed the smooth stones resting beneath its placid surface even in the dark. Cupping her hands, she shoveled water into her mouth, not caring how its iciness sent shivers down her skin.
After satisfying her thirst, Arrin sat back on the embankment and finally let her tired body rest. But her mind remained alert, listening for any sign of the guards. Assuming they’d continued in the wrong direction, they were probably well away by now. She must have walked for at least twenty or thirty minutes after loosing the arrows, which meant, given her average walking speed of one-and-a-half to two miles an hour plus theirs in the opposite direction...
Skies, I’m too wiped out to even solve that elementary problem.
If she was lucky, then the guards would give up and tell each other that she wasn’t the fugitive they sought, that Arrin Velindale did indeed lie dead somewhere in the ravine, and they’d been chasing a lookalike vagabond. Doing so would be in their best interests if they wanted to avoid their mistress’ wrath. Once news reached her family, though, they’d be devastated.
I’m sorry, Mahtim, Tahtih, Myla, Tam. If I succeed... when all this is over... I’ll go home and apologize. It won’t be enough, but at least you’ll be safe.
The images from her prophecies still burned vividly in her mind, but where they had driven her before, they now filled her with despair.
What did I think would happen—that I’d just race to Eryu and stop the Age of Fire? I don’t even know what part of Terra I’m on anymore.
It seemed like foolishness to believe she could be the one to save the world. That was the role of a true hero—a royal, or a warrior, or a chosen one with great abilities. And who was she? Just a carpenter’s daughter, indentured to do menial work, with impossible dreams of building great things someday.
Still, the stars had picked her to receive the vision, and they didn’t make mistakes. She’d read as much in countless books written over the millennia by the master thinkers of their times. Whatever Celeste’s reasons, it would do her no good to wallow in self-pity.
A light caught Arrin’s attention—a pale blue glow, the color of the sky at daybreak, shimmering beneath the river’s surface in the distance. Knowing it had to have an enchanted cause, for no human could produce a light underwater, she edged forward, trying to make out its source. Some kind of magical fish? The aquatic equivalent to a fairy, perhaps?
The light drew nearer and brighter as it rose from the depths, rapidly moving upstream until she was able to make out its shape. Her eyes widened. Under the glassy river, a mermaid swam toward her, holding a spherical lantern in one hand. The girl’s elegant tail, whose colors were difficult to make out in the darkness, swayed quickly from side to side, and grand translucent fins rippled like silk. Long straight hair flowed behind her, glistening with ornaments that rivaled the stars.
Arrin stared, mesmerized. Though she’d heard much about the mermaids since their politics often intertwined with Nikhilim’s due to their shared shore, she’d never seen one in person before. What was this one doing so far upriver, anyway? As far as she knew, they kept to the ocean.
As the mermaid drew closer, Arrin was able to make out the details of her appearance. Hair as smooth and black as polished onyx. A long torso, clad in a glimmering silver garment that covered her bust and upper stomach but left her naval exposed. Lithe arms decorated with spiraling silver bracelets. Upswept eyes, black in color, accentuated by sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin. Her moon-pale skin gleamed with a smooth, pearly luster; she was young, probably around twenty.
The mermaid’s eyes darted to the surface. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Arrin glanced away, reminding herself that mermaids were people like herself and not animals to be gawked at. As the other approached, probably to tell her just that, Arrin suddenly realized that she’d been so hypnotized by the mermaid’s appearance, she’d forgotten that she was a fugitive with several unfriendly people after her. For all she knew, the aquatic girl was an ally of Lady Bolliore’s.
Since she couldn’t afford to take any chances, Arrin scrambled to her feet and spun toward the forest.
A splash, followed by, “Wait, don’t go!” The girl’s voice, deep yet vibrant, sounded more desperate than demanding.
Unable to help her curiosity, Arrin turned back around. The other had surfaced and was now treading water near the riverbank, holding the blue lantern by her side as water lapped around her waist. Now that she was just a few feet away, Arrin could see that her tail was a pattern of rich purple and green hues, curving as a human woman’s hips would and then tapering and culminating in two grand emerald fins. A silver diadem, no wider than a finger, encircled her head, and from it, thin chains decorated with small violet gemstones ran down her hair. Everything about her was so graceful and put-together; Arrin was suddenly aware of her own rumpled appearance, with rips all over her clothes from getting snagged on thorns and enough twigs and leaves to build a bird’s nest caught in her unkempt hair.
“Have you seen any guié around these parts?” The mermaid swept her arm to indicate the mountain range.
The question took Arrin by surprise, but she warned herself not to become complacent. She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know Lady Bolliore?”
The other lifted one arched black eyebrow. “I don’t trouble myself with the petty nobility of humankind. Why do you ask?”
I’ll take that as a no. Arrin approached the water’s edge. “Never mind, she’s just someone who doesn’t like me very much. Aren’t you a little far from the ocean?”
“It’s by necessity, I’m afraid.” The mermaid’s eyes darted around. “Tell me, have you seen any guié or not?”
The command in her voice sparked Arrin’s irritation. Who just goes up to a stranger and asks for something without offering an explanation?
“Hello, my name is Arrin,” she said sarcastically. “Last name’s Velindale, if you care. Nice to meet you.”
The mermaid knit her eyebrows, then let out a sigh. “Apologies for my coarse manners. I’m Ilaerii.” As she spoke her name, her eyes searched Arrin with suspicion.
Is she a fugitive too or something? Deciding it was better not to ask, she tried saying the other’s name. It was the strangest one she’d ever heard, probably derived from an ancient marine dialect far the common tongue.
“Ih-lair-ee?” she said.
“That’s right.” The girl called Ilaerii lowered the lantern until it floated on the river’s surface. “I’m here because rumors are spreading through Marae about Inferno growing more powerful. From what I’ve heard, more guié are infiltrating the Terrestrial Realm than ever before, and people are scared.”
“That’s... a bad sign.” Arrin tried not to let her fear show on her face. “It’s been decades since the last recorded gui attack.” And millennia since the last ayr fell...
“I wanted to see if there was any truth to it, and so I consulted one of our oracles. She said there’d been a great upsurge in dark magic in these mountains, so I came to find out what it was about.”
“And you came alone?”
“I had to. If anyone knew I was taking those rumors seriously, they’d panic, and my kingdom would be overwhelmed by chaos. But something must be going on. I’ve seen Nameed’s prophecy of the Age of Fire. The events leading to it have already begun.”
Perversely enough, Arrin was almost glad to hear someone else speak of the Age of Fire because it meant she wasn’t alone in knowing it was imminent. Perhaps this mermaid, whoever she was, knew something that could help Arrin on her quest.
“What exactly do you mean?” she asked.
“This is what the prophecy states.” Ilaerii shifted her gaze, staring blankly into the river as she recited, “‘Before the Age of Thrones reaches its sixteenth century, a human child will be born with the power of Inferno. ’” She looked back at Arrin. “That means the Starless Prince already walks the Terrestrial Realm. So far, our efforts to locate him have failed, for neither we nor our human allies have found a strong enough convergence of dark magic in any single person. And he could be anyone—a child of five, or an old man of eighty... We have no way of knowing.”
Terror darted through Arrin’s heart. At least someone else was seeking a way to prevent the world’s doom, which brought her a drop of comfort.
“I haven’t heard of any guié in these parts,” she said, to answer the mermaid’s initial question. “But last night, I saw an ayr fall.” She recounted the terrible sight she’d witnessed: the mark of the Fiend burned into the trees, the winged silhouette in ash at its center. As she spoke, the horrifying future she’d seen seemed to draw even closer, and so she told Ilaerii of that as well.
By the time she concluded her account, Ilaerii’s expression was taut with worry. For a moment, the mermaid didn’t speak, as if digesting what she’d heard.
“I heard reports of the ayr’s death, but since the witnesses were so few, I’d hoped they weren’t true,” she said. “Who is the windborn one you speak of?”
“I don’t know,” Arrin confessed. “The vision didn’t tell me, but it did show me that she’s at the Sorci fortress. Say... do you know where that is?”
Ilaerii shifted her gaze upward, searching the sky, then pointed. “Do you see the Prudence Star?”
Arrin looked up. The Prudence Star was one of the Estal Magora, the night’s brightest stars. Each twinkled a different color—blue for patience, pink for kindness, green for charity. And amber for prudence. They remained in the same place no matter what the season, silent sentinels of all that was good. During her many reading adventures, Arrin had encountered plenty of stories about sailors or travelers using the Estal Magora for navigation.
Following Ilaerii’s lead, Arrin found the glinting Prudence Star shining prominently above the riverbank, unmistakable. “Yes, I see it.”
“During the Age of Magic, the Sorci built their fortress under it because prudence is the virtue they value the most.” Ilaerii lowered her arm. “If you follow that star, you’ll find the Sapphire Bastille.”
“Thank you.” A great pressure lifted from Arrin’s heart. That was a direction she could follow no matter how turned around she got. She glanced at the terrain ahead. The river curved out of sight, and a mountain rose above it, its peak pointing directly at the Prudence Star. Perhaps the Bastille was on the other side. “Do you know how far it is?”
“I’m afraid not.” A warning gleaming in Ilaerii’s black eyes. “Be careful. You may think you know who the Sorci are, but they are not what they seem.”
“What do you mean?” Arrin had only heard good things about the last remnants of the Age of Magic. In fact, just a few months ago, the heralds had sung the magicians’ praises because they’d saved the king’s nephew. The value they placed on knowledge matched her own, and she’d often fancied that, if she’d been inclined toward the magical rather than the mechanical, she might have sought an apprenticeship with them.
Ilaerii flicked back one strand of black hair. “I’m unfamiliar with the details, but I know there’s corruption within their ranks. Perhaps they were once a force for good, but now...” Her expression darkened. “I suspect they may be the reason behind the infernal stirrings in this region.”
Skies above! Arrin shuddered. She’d hoped the magicians would help her with her quest—maybe they knew the windborn one and would protect her—but now, she wondered if they were the reason the girl was in danger. Though she reminded herself not to trust Ilaerii’s word too quickly, she detected no lie in the other’s voice. And it couldn’t hurt to be careful.
“I appreciate the warning,” she said nervously.
Ilaerii gave a polite nod. “I must return to my investigations. If I don’t return to Marae by sunrise, people will know something is wrong, and I don’t want any more rumors to get started. Farewell, Arrin Velindale.”
She dove back into the water before Arrin could respond, sending up a small splash. Taken aback by the mermaid’s abrupt departure, Arrin watched her swim away and found her gaze drawn to a gleaming jewel in the girl’s hair. It glittered so brightly, the only explanation for why she hadn’t noticed it earlier was that the mermaid’s long locks had covered it. Black like onyx but flashing with every color of the rainbow, glowing with its own luminescence—a stargem, rarer than rubies or diamonds or any other earthly jewel... This was a piece of the Celestial Realm. Legend had it that stargems had been created during the final battle against the Fiend, when the powers of the ayri had struck the earth and solidified starlight into a few precious stones.
Arrin’s mind flashed back to the moment Ilaerii had given her name—the odd, suspicious look that had crossed her face. Only someone extraordinarily powerful would wear a stargem, and the mermaid must have wondered if Arrin would recognize her.
Skies, she’s royalty! Arrin gaped, staring after the mermaid’s retreating form as it disappeared around the river bend. No wonder why Ilaerii had been so knowledgeable, and why she’d kept referring to her people. Ilaerii of Marae... Wouldn’t be hard to find out exactly who she is. Probably a princess.
Arrin couldn’t believe she’d actually spoken to a royal from any kingdom; she’d always imagined that Lady Bolliore would be the most powerful person she’d come into contact with.
Adjusting the strap of her bag, she found the Prudence Star in the sky. The one disadvantage about traveling by it was that she could only do so at night, and time was limited. She’d have to get as far as she could by daybreak. Up to the mountain, at least. Perhaps even over it.
With that in mind, she marched down the riverbank, trying not to think about the dangers that would await once she reached the fortress of magic.
ELSEWHERE...
“See how the mortal fools pursue without rest, little realizing how pointless their actions are! Well, let them run. Let them believe that killing him is the answer. The direr his circumstances, the more desperate he’ll grow, and that will pave the way for Inferno to enter. But though they’ve lost sight of their goal, I have not, and I shall carry on with the process so that this delay will not set the plans back. Kristakai will be ours, sooner than they think.”
CHAPTER 8: We have to get out
Tomorrow...
Kiri wanted to believe he was possessed. She wanted to believe this wasn’t him, that this was an illusion, a trick, a nightmare she would awaken from. Yet she knew it couldn’t be, and the Fiend’s corporeal form stood behind Darien, a beastly shadow against the blaze.
Though it hurt to look at him, she held Darien’s gaze, searching and searching for some sign that she was mistaken—that the entire universe was mistaken—and that at least one ray of starlight still glowed within his soul. And she couldn’t help but wonder: Was this her fault?
TODAY...
KIRI RACED DOWN THE WIDE hallway, so fast the flaming lanterns on the walls streaked into blurred yellow lines. Cold air nipped at her skin even beneath the thick cloth of Darien’s cloak, and she wondered how all that running had failed to warm her.
“Find them!” Worak’s voice, distant yet loud enough to pierce through stone walls, crackled with rage. “I want them alive!”
