A Realm of Shadows (6 page)

“Don’t you see,
Kyra? You are all they have left.”

He stared into
her eyes, a glimmer of his old intensity shining through, like a candle on its
last flame.

“What will you
do, Kyra? Will you make them proud?”

She nodded back
gravely.

“Yes,” she said,
meaning it. “I will.”

“Even if it
means risking your life?”

“Yes,” she
replied. “With all that I am.”

She felt her words
were true, and as she spoke them, she felt a vibration run through her palms,
as if the spirits lingering in the room had heard her and had approved.

Softis stared at
her for a long time, as if gauging the truth of what she said, and finally he
nodded in approval.

“Good,” he said.

He sighed and
withdrew his hand, yet still he studied her.

“Of all the
great men,” he added, “who had ever fought for Volis, of all the warriors they
thought would be the standard bearer, the greatest of them all was
you
, Kyra.”

Kyra stared
back, shocked.

“Me?” she asked.

He nodded.

“That was what
they could not have seen,” he replied. “All along, for all these generations,
it was
you
they were waiting for.
You
, a simple girl, who is far
more than that.”

Kyra’s hands trembled
as she pondered the weight of his words.

“Do not shy from
danger, Kyra,” he urged. “Seek it out. That is the only way to save your life.”

Kyle opened his
eyes, disoriented, wondering where he was. He reached out and felt cold grass
and dirt between his fingers, felt a heavy weight atop him, nearly suffocating
him. He also felt something curious licking his palm, nudging him awake.

Kyle leaned back
and shoved off the armor. Breathing hard from the effort, free of the weight, Kyle
looked about and was horrified at what he saw. He was surrounded by dead
bodies. He lay in a field of corpses—thousands of them—Pandesian soldiers and
trolls mingled together, all charred, faces frozen in death masks of agony. The
land, too, was scorched around them, burned by the dragons’ breath, and as Kyle
pushed the last of the shields and heavy armor off of him, he realized at once that
the only reason he had survived was because of the metal and corpses shielding
him.

He continued to
feel the tongue on his palm, and Kyle, remembering, looked over and was shocked
at who he saw: Leo. Kyra’s wolf. Somehow it had sought him out, had found him,
had crossed Escalon searching for him, and had nudged him awake. Of course, it
made sense: Leo was fanatically devoted to Kyra, and he must have sensed that
Kyle could lead him to her. That also, though, meant something else: Kyra and
Leo had gotten separated. Kyle’s heart fell, as he wondered what may have
happened to her.

Kyle heard a
snort, a clawing at the grass, and he turned to see Kyra’s horse, Andor,
standing nearby, waiting impatiently, too. Kyle marveled at the loyalty of her
animals.

Kyle rubbed Leo’s
head as he sat up, his head aching, wondering how much time had passed. He was
singed, aching, scratched and wounded on nearly every part of his body. Yet he
was alive. He was the lone man here, in this battlefield of the dead, now a
massive cemetery.

There came a
distant rumble, and Kyle looked up, bracing himself as he examined the sky. On
the horizon he spotted the faint remnants of the flock of dragons, flying away,
presumably south, for Andros. They must have assumed everyone was dead.

Kyle stood,
knowing he was lucky to be alive, shocked the dragons had reached Escalon. He closed
his eyes, as he did when summoning his powers, and tried to use them to show
him where to go, what his purpose was now. Kyra was somewhere, he did not know
where, far away, Escalon was in ruin, and the Tower of Ur was destroyed. What
purpose did life hold for him?

Kyle closed his
eyes and focused, and as he did, a driving sense of purpose came to him. It
commanded him to look up, to search the skies. Kyle did so, and he suddenly saw
something fly overhead, just a flash, racing by, in and out of the clouds. A
dragon. Yet it flew in the opposite direction of the flock. It was unlike the
others. It was a baby. And it flew alone.

And on its back,
Kyle felt a chill to realize, was someone he knew. Someone he loved.

Kyra.

Kyle was
overcome as he watched the dragon disappear on the horizon. Kyra was flying
north. But where? Why? At least that explained why she and Leo and Andor became
separated.

Kyle closed his
eyes and tuned in, summoning his powers, wondering. None of it seemed to make
any sense.

And then it came
to him.

Marda
.

A chill ran up
his arms as he saw Kyra’s future. He saw her enveloped by blackness, saw the
evil awaiting her, the death surrounding her. He saw, most of all, that she
would never return.

Flooded by a new
sense of purpose, Kyle broke into a sprint, running north through the fields,
faster and faster. Leo and Andor ran by his side, joining him, yet he was even
faster than they. He was as fast as a bird, as fast as a dragon, covering so much
ground so fast, that soon, he would reach the Flames. He would enter the land of Marda, do whatever it took to find and saved the girl he loved.

Wait, Kyra
, he urged.
Wait
for me.

Aidan stood in
the cave amongst all his father’s soldiers, his father in the center, hundreds
of men crowding him in a semicircle, all intently looking at their commander
with love and respect—and Aidan felt a rush of pride. Beside him stood Anvin
and Motley and Cassandra, White at his feet, and Aidan was elated to be here, to
be included amongst all these great men, and most of all, to be reunited with
his father again. No matter what should happen, for now at least, all was right
in the world again.

It was a
jubilant scene, all these warriors clearly happy to be reunited, all embracing
and talking, discussing their predicament as they had for hours, ever since Kyra
had dropped them here in this remote cave. They all knew the situation was dire.
They needed an urgent plan, and they debated a course of action heatedly, all
professional warriors, all with varying opinions. His father stood in the middle
of it all, listening, judging, weighing their opinions.

“We must return
and storm the capital!” Bramthos exclaimed to a group of men. “We must attack while
they are distracted, while the dragons attack them. We can exploit their
weakness.”

“And what of the
dragons?” Kavos called out. “Shall they not kill us, too?”

“We can attack them
fast, and then take shelter,” Bramthos countered.

The others shook
their heads.

“Reckless,” Seavig
replied. “More of us will die by the dragons’ breath than by the Pandesians’
sword.”

“Then what would
you have us do? Remain here, hiding in this cave?” Arthfael countered.

Kavos shook his
head.

“No,” Kavos
replied. “Yet we cannot return to Andros. Nor can we risk confronting them head
on.”

“The Pandesians
must be attacked,” Bramthos insisted. “If we wait for them to pursue us—and
pursue us they shall—then we shall be attacked on their terms. Andros now sits in disarray, yet soon those dragons will retreat. Shall we then confront a
million men in the open field?”

“Who’s to say
the dragons will retreat?” Seavig argued. “Maybe they will burn Andros until there is nothing left.”

“Why have they
come to begin with?” called out another.

The cave broke
into heated debate, men talking over each other, arguing, none agreeing and all
agitated.

Duncan
stood in the midst
of it all, his fist on his chin, deep in thought. Aidan could tell from the
familiar look on his face that he was agitated, mulling it all over. He rubbed
his beard, and Aidan knew that to be a sign he was coming close to a decision.

Suddenly, Anvin
stepped forward.

“Duncan is our commander,” he yelled above the din of the crowd. “He has always led us
brilliantly. I defer to his opinion.”

The rowdy group
of men finally fell silent as all eyes turned to Duncan.

Duncan
sighed. He
slowly stepped forward, stood to his full height, and addressed the group of
warriors.

“First, I cannot
express to you my gratitude,” he said, his deep, authoritative voice echoing
off the walls. “You returned to Andros for me. You saved my life, against every
chance. I owe you my life.”

They all looked
back at him with respect and appreciation.

“I had made a
foolish decision,” Duncan continued, “to trust them, to negotiate, and it is a
mistake I shall not make again.”

“We will follow
you anywhere, Duncan,” Seavig called out, while the others cheered.

“Just tell us
where to go next,” Arthfael called. “Shall we return to the capital?”

Aidan felt his
heart pounding as the silence thickened and he wondered what his father might
say.

“No,” Duncan finally said.

His single word
was filled with such confidence, it left no room for another choice.

“We would catch them
off guard, true,” he said. “Yet we would lose too many of us. And we would be
fighting in
their
territory, against their defenses, and on their terms.
The chaos would serve us, but it could also work against us.”

He rubbed his
beard.

“No,” he added. “We
shall lead them to us.”

They all stared
back, looking surprised.

“Bring them
here?” Bramthos asked.

Duncan
shook his head.

“No,” he
replied. “We shall lure them to a place where we will have the advantage, where
they will be sure to lose. A place that takes advantage of our knowledge of our
homeland. A place where we own the land.”

“And where is
that, my commander?” Arthfael asked.

Duncan
drew his sword,
the sound echoing off the walls. He stepped forward, reached out, and slowly etched
a long line in the sand. At its end, he drew a circle, and he pointed the sword’s
tip right in the center.

They all crowded
around, close.

Duncan
looked up and
met their eyes with deadly seriousness.

“Baris,” he finally
said.

Silence fell
over the room as the men closed in and craned their necks.

“Baris?” Bramthos
asked, surprised. “Lure them to a canyon? That would give us the low ground.”

“It is also
hostile ground,” Seavig added. “Teeming with Baris’s men.”

Duncan
grinned for the
first time.

“Exactly,” he replied.

The group fell
silent, clearly baffled. Anvin, though, nodded.

“I see what you
see,” Anvin said. “Vengeance against Baris—and at the same time, a chance to kill
the Pandesians.”

Duncan
nodded back.

“Bant will not anticipate
our attack,” Duncan replied.

“But why kill
our countrymen first when we must face the Pandesian army?” Bramthos called
out.

“We must first
and foremost kill those men who betrayed us, who betrayed their homeland,”
Duncan replied. “Who lay at our flank. Otherwise, we will never be safe. Then, with
Bant’s men dead, we can lure the Pandesians to us.”

“Yet they will
have the high ground,” Seavig said.

“Which is why we
will lure them down, inside the canyon,” Duncan replied.

They all seemed
baffled.

“And then what?”
Bramthos asked.

Duncan
looked back,
cold and hard.

“Flood it,” Duncan replied.

They all stared
back in shock.

“Flood it?” Seavig
finally asked. “How?”

Duncan
raised his
sword and continued drawing his line in the sand, until finally he drew three
short marks.

“Everfall,” he
stated. “We will redirect the falls. Its waters will flow north, and flood the canyon.”

He stared at the
men, who looked down, shocked.

“A few hundred of
us cannot kill Pandesia’s thousands,” he replied. “Yet nature can.”

A long silence
fell over the men as they looked at Duncan, all rubbing their beards, all deep
in thought.

“Risky,” Kavos
finally said. “It is a long stretch between here and Baris. Anything could happen.”

“And the canyon
has never been flooded before,” Seavig added. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“And if we lose
against Baris?” Bramthos asked. “That itself could be a deadly battle.”

“Not to mention,
Leptus controls the falls,” Anvin added. “We’d need to enlist their help if we
stand any chance.”

Duncan
nodded to him.

“Precisely, my
friend,” he replied. “And that is why I am dispatching you at once.”

Anvin’s eyes
widened as he looked back with surprise and pride.

“Leave at once
for Leptus,” Duncan added, “and enlist them in our plan.”

A long silence
filled the air, the men on the fence, until finally Kavos stepped forward. All
the others looked at him with respect, and Aidan knew that whatever he said
would mean their agreement or not.

“A daring plan,”
Kavos said. “A risky plan, a bold plan. A plan that will most likely fail. Yet
one which is valorous. And foolhardy. I like it. I am with Duncan.”

One at a time
all the men looked up and shouted in agreement, raising their swords.

“I AM WITH
DUNCAN!” they all cried out.

And Aidan’s
heart soared with pride.

*

Aidan walked beside
Duncan, his father’s strong hand on his shoulder, their boots crunching gravel
as they crossed the cave, past all the warriors donning armor, sharpening
swords, preparing for their next battle. Aidan had never felt more proud than at
this moment. His father, owning the respect of all the men in this cave after
his stirring speech, had come not to join his commanders, but to Aidan, all
eyes on them. He had pulled Aidan aside and walked with him, alone. As all the
men watched them, Aidan took it as a great sign of respect; he hadn’t even
realized his father was aware of him amongst all these men, let alone at this
critical time.

They walked in
silence, Aidan waiting, eager to hear what his father had to say.

“I never forget,”
his father said, as they finally crossed out of earshot of the other men. He
stopped and looked at Aidan meaningfully, and Aidan stared back, his heart
pounding. “I know what you did back there. You came for me, all the way from
Volis. You trekked alone, all the way to the capital, a dangerous journey even
for a hard warrior. You survived, and you even managed to find men to help you.”

His father grinned,
and Aidan, welling with pride, smiled back.

“You managed to
make your way into the dungeons,” his father continued, “in a city occupied,
and to help free me in my bleakest hour. If it weren’t for you, I would still
be chained there—if not already at the executioner’s hand. I owe you my life,
son,” he said, and Aidan felt his eyes well. “You have proved on this day that
you are not only a valued son, but a fine, budding warrior. One day you will
take over my command.”

Aidan’s eyes lit
up at his father’s words. It was the first time his father had ever talked to
him this way, with this tone, looked at him with such respect. They were words
he’d always longed to hear from his father, words that made everything in the
world right, that made everything he had suffered worth it.

“There was
nothing else I could even think of doing,” Aidan replied. “I love you, Father. There
has never been anything else I’ve wanted to do but help your cause.”

Duncan
nodded back,
and this time his eyes welled with tears.

“I know that,
son.”

Aidan felt his
heart pounding as he summoned the courage to make a request.

“I wish to accompany
Aidan on his trip to Leptus.”

Duncan
stared back, eyes
widening in surprise.

“I wish to be of
service,
real
service,” Aidan continued in a rush, “and I long to take
the journey. I will be of little service here, with all your warriors,
attacking the canyon. But I can be of great service in helping Anvin make his
way across the countryside, reach Leptus, and persuade them to join our cause. Please,
Father. It would be a noble mission.”

Duncan
stroked his
beard, seemingly lost in thought. But then, to Aidan’s disappointment, he finally
shook his head.

“The journey to
Leptus is a long and treacherous one,” he said, his voice heavy. “One even
Anvin may not survive. Aside from the hostile landscape, dragons still circle
and packs of Pandesian soldiers roam. You may even face a hostile reception in
Leptus—they are separatists, don’t forget.”

Aidan did not
hesitate.

“I know all this,
Father. And none of that deters me.”

His father
slowly shook his head, as he fell silent, a stubborn look that Aidan knew meant
No. Aidan summoned more resolve.

“Did you not
just say I have proven myself?” Aidan pressed. “I have crossed Escalon alone
for you. Let me cross the wasteland. Let me show you your faith in me is not
misplaced. I
need
this, Father. I need my own mission. I need to feel
like I, too, am a man. And I shall never be a man hiding here under your wings.”

Duncan
stared back for
a long time, and Aidan could see the thoughts turning in his head, as his heart
pounded, awaiting the response.

Finally, his
father sighed, reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“You are an even
braver warrior than I thought,” he said, “and a more loyal son. You are right—I
have underestimated you. And it is not for a father to hold back a son hoping
to become a man.”

He grinned and
nodded.

“Go with Anvin. Serve
our cause and serve it well.”

Aidan beamed as
his heart filled with pride and gratitude.