A Shard of Sun (13 page)

“Y
OU HAVEN’T ASKED ME
why I search for Sverin, after all he’s done.”

Caj followed the wolf, Tocho, through a stone tunnel so narrow it threatened to scrape his feathers bare. He pressed to one side, wary of damaging the splint on his broken wing.

Ahead, Tocho paused to snuffle at the cold rock and Caj stopped short of bumping into him. “I understand the wingbrother pledge.”

Do you?
Caj’s tail twitched, but he managed not to say it aloud. The wolf had proven to be literally worth his weight in food. Rather than having to journey back through the tunnels or hunt when he grew hungry, Caj counted on Tocho departing to either hunt on his own for small game, or return with fish from the Vanir. Without him, the chase would’ve been much more difficult, and much longer.

“Why do you help me?” Caj caught a whiff of fresh air and pressed forward, urging Tocho to go faster. Knowing that an entire island of earth and rock pressed over his head shortened his breath, but he pressed forward stubbornly.

Tocho quickened his pace. “Your nest-son saved my life.”

Caj perked his ears. “I didn’t know that.”

Tocho laughed. He laughed often, and Caj wished he had a little of the wolf’s good humor. “And, I help you because we’re in troubled days. At the end of them, I hope to have proven myself well.”

Light and wind rushed down the tunnel when Tocho crawled free, and Caj burst out behind him, grateful even as snow blasted his face. “Trying to impress someone, are you?”

Tocho shook himself and didn’t answer.

Caj perked his ears. “Ha, that’s it. You’re trying to impress your king. Do wolves have ranks and favor as we do?”

Tocho looked over at him, earnest. “I help you from my own heart. I owe your family the kind of debt that can’t be repaid. If I impress someone along the way, then that’s fine.” He looked away again, sniffing at the snow.

“It’s a female, isn’t it.”

Tocho’s ears flattened, and Caj broke into a rough laugh. Laughing felt strange, impossible, after the long winter. “It is. Well, that’s fair enough. I didn’t know that helping gryfons was impressive to she-wolves.”

“I don’t know
what’s
impressive to her,” Tocho muttered, and Caj laughed again.

At least he knew not everything about gryfons and wolves was so different. He wasn’t sure if it was flattering or simple madness that Tocho thought helping him would gain favor with some she-wolf. Of course, there was Shard, the great champion of wolves, and of peace in the isles—Shard, Caj’s son.

Nest-son,
he corrected himself. Funny to think he had favor because of Shard, when it had been the other way around not so very long ago.

They walked forward in quiet through the snow, heading inland. Caj knew that Sverin would keep as far from the ocean as possible, except if he crossed islands. They knew he was no longer on Crow Wing. They’d searched the entire span and after a few days one of the horses deigned to find them and say they’d confirmed he was gone, and the birds murmured of Talon’s Reach.

Caj shook snow from his face, his mood darkening.

The winter hadn’t eased when Sverin fled and Thyra and Ragna took command of the divided pride. Some had muttered that indeed, Tyr was not happy with the arrangement, but deep in the pit of himself, Caj felt that all was not right with the world itself. Kjorn, his own prince, had left, perhaps to perish in the sea before ever reaching the windland. No one knew of Shard, if he lived, had fled, or was dead somewhere far from home.

Without warning, Tocho licked the side of Caj’s head.

“
Ah—”
he jerked away with a hiss, lifting his good wing to shove the wolf back.

Tocho flattened his ears and stretched out on his belly, curling his lip. “I’m sorry. You looked so troubled. If you were a wolf, I’d—”

“I’m not a wolf,” Caj growled.

Tocho pressed himself to the ground and rolled to his side. “I meant no disrespect, Noble Caj.”

Caj huffed and shook himself. Snow pelted his face, stinging away the dank, closed feeling of the cave. “Just don’t…comfort me again. And stand up. Tyr’s wings. This will be a long hunt if you do that every time there’s a misunderstanding.”

Tocho rolled to his feet, sniffing forward into the blizzard. “I don’t know Talon’s Reach. We should ask.”

“Ask?” Caj just looked at him. “Ask who?”

“Anyone,” Tocho said, lifting his head to peer around.

Caj followed his gaze. Dull light filtered through the blizzard, promising that the snow might spend itself soon.

“Birds,” Tocho continued. “A hare, if you call in Tor’s name and they know you aren’t hunting, might answer.”

“I don’t speak with creatures like that. I don’t understand them. They flee.”

Bright, hungry wolf eyes focused on him. “You spoke to the horses. You only have to listen.” He padded forward.

“I don’t need help to find my own wingbrother,” Caj called after him, then broke into a lope to catch up. Wolves were swift on the ground. Caj was not, though his strength grew. If he could fly, the whole hunt would’ve been done by now.

His own father used to say that “if” was the most useless word under the sky.

“They won’t help me.” Caj caught up to Tocho, caught his bushy tail in his talons. Tocho paused to look at him. “They won’t help a gryfon, not me, of the Aesir. Not after everything.”

Tocho tilted his head. “Of course they will. You seek your brother, out of love. All creatures understand that. You seek redemption for the Aesir. You love a Vanir. Two actually.” He chuckled. “Give the islands a chance, and they will give you one.”

Caj huffed, lashing his tail. He caught a scent—red deer? He whirled, ears perking, and saw her, frozen as if her ruddy winter pelt might blend in with the snow. He tried to remember the feeling of speaking to the horses, feeling his feet firmly on the earth, unable to fly, as this creature was unable to fly.

“You there!”

Her ears perked, face blank and shocked, then she wheeled and bounded away into the snow. Caj swore and leaped after her, but Tocho’s laughter stopped him.

He whirled and bore down on the wolf. “This is funny to you?”

“Yes!” Tocho dodged away when Caj swiped at him. “I mean it was a good try. But maybe try someone closer to yourself, first. And maybe not so loudly.”

“Closer to…”

Tocho tilted his head back. Through the pelting snow Caj thought he made out the form of a bird, flapping fast to seek shelter.

“You there!”

“Would you answer if someone shouted at you like that?” Tocho’s quiet question burned under Caj’s skin. He splayed his good wing, digging his talons against the frozen ground under the snow just to feel them breaking into something.

“Hail! Little sky brother!”

The bird disappeared into the blizzard.

Caj loosed a breath, and had just turned a glare on Tocho, when the bird swooped back with stunning speed and landed before Caj, looking as surprised as Caj himself did. The sleek, small, sparrow hawk peered up at him and he realized he’d make a mistake calling
her
a brother.

“You called to me, lord?”

Well that’s more like it.
Caj blinked in surprise at the little falcon, and she stared at him. “Yes, I did. You live on Talon’s Reach?”

“My whole life.” She looked back and forth between Tocho and Caj. “So it’s true! You seek the Red King.”

Relieved that she hadn’t called him the Red Scourge, and feeling more hopeful, Caj lowered himself to her level, sinking to his belly in the snow. “I do.” He didn’t even ask how she knew. News of his quest was traveling faster than he was. He glanced at Tocho, smothered his pride, and continued. “And I need help. I mean to redeem Sverin.” Caj met the falcon’s small, shining eyes. He recalled how Tocho had won over the horses. “In the name of…the Summer King, in the name of Shard, prince of the Vanir…will you help me?”

“It would be my honor.”

The quick answer surprised Caj, and he didn’t try to hide his gratitude. “What is your name?”

She loosed a little chirruping laugh. “We of the winds have no names.”

Caj’s ear twitched, and he tried not to be irritated. “Then what will I call you?”

“Call me friend. Come, come, then, slow ones.” She hopped into the air and hovered. “We have a large island to search.”

S
UNSET EDGED THE
V
ANHEIM
Shore in gold and red.

Kjorn stood on the edge of a cliff within the stronghold of the Vanhar, ringed by their council of twelve elders, half of them male, half of them female, and in their center a thirteenth. She was the oldest, tough and wiry as a falcon, with sharp, orange eyes.

“Kjorn, Son-of-Sverin. I am high priestess of the Vanhar. My council and I share wisdom, seek guidance from Tyr and Tor, and look for signs from the Four Winds, but it is I who have the final say in matters of our law. Do you understand this?”

“I understand.” Kjorn bowed low, looking around the half circle of faces. No wonder Nilsine had laughed when Kjorn mentioned a king, but they’d been anything but hostile. His wings were unbound, at his back lay the sea. They trusted that he would not fly. Anything he didn’t understand could surely be clarified at a later time. “It’s my honor to meet you. I wish only that I could have come upon this shore first, and met you in a better way.”

One ear slanted incredulously, but she appeared amused. The dozen elders remained quiet, only exchanging skeptical looks. “You understand that you are here to face judgment for keeping company with the criminal Rok, for trespassing, and to answer for your claim of being Kajar’s heir.”

“I understand.”

The elders conferred among themselves, and Kjorn took a deep breath, casting a brief look to the landscape beyond the half circle of gryfons.

The stronghold of the Vanhar was quarter mark’s flight along the coast from where the sentries had come upon Rok and his band. The land changed from barren rock with sparse plant growth into lusher grass slopes that nudged into dunes and slipped into the sea. The Vanhar nested not in rock dens but in those dunes and tall grasses, and now and again Kjorn glimpsed a curious gryfon face peering their way from a distance, or a fledge popping up to practice flight. Wind waved the grasses and sea wheat, seabirds cried, and sunlight sparkled gold over the water.

In all, the effect soothed Kjorn’s mood and gave him a hopeful outlook.

He’d been treated—if not like a prince—at least like a guest, fed and respected and trusted not to fly away, while Rok, Fraenir and Frida were guarded more closely. The Vanhar had taken time to reasonably explain their law to Kjorn, taking his word for the moment that he was indeed the grandson of Per and had little knowledge of how things fared in the Winderost.

“What proof do you have that you are Per’s grandson, Kajar’s heir?”

Kjorn looked to the gnarled, dusty gray male who’d spoken. “My coat and feathers are like my mother’s, who was the sister of a gryfess who remained at the Dawn Spire. She would vouch for me.”

The high priestess gave him a keen look. “You speak of Queen Esla. Mate to Orn, now.”

“Then she fares well,” Kjorn said, controlling his surprise. “I didn’t know she was queen.”

A female hacked a cough. “Didn’t know? That’s likely. She clawed up to the top to avoid being associated with her sister who fled with a coward—”

“I’ll ask you not speak of my kin that way.” Kjorn’s tail flicked and he rolled his shoulders, re-settling his feathers and pressing his talons to the grass. “Respectfully. I will answer for any cowardice.”

“Alone,” said the high priestess. “Why do you come alone?”

“I came alone to seek my wingbrother, Shard. A gray Vanir also from the Silver Isles.” He searched their faces, but as with Nilsine, saw no sign of recognition. Disappointment twisted in his chest, and he shifted his talons against the ground. So Shard hadn’t landed on this shore.

A couple of the elders nodded, accepting his reason. Two gryfesses bent their heads together, whispering furiously. One broke away from the other to say, “What brought your wingbrother to this land?”

“Tell us your tale,” said the priestess.

“It starts much earlier,” Kjorn said, glancing around the circle again. The priestess merely dipped her head.

So Kjorn told them all he knew, including what he’d been told that was a lie—that Per led others away to conquer new lands, to expand their pride. He told them of his own mother’s death, and with a halting tongue, his father’s descent toward madness which even Kjorn couldn’t explain, except that he surely harbored secrets, guilt and shame about the way they’d left the Winderost. He told them about Shard, how he’d befriended the wolves and other creatures of the Isles, learned he was the son of the dead Vanir king, exiled himself from the pride. He told them everything.

“What other proof?” demanded a male at the end of the half ring of gryfons. “Anyone could have been groomed up with this story and claimed to be Kajar’s heir. We owe him nothing. Just another big outcast from the Dawn Spire, if you ask me.”

“With those feathers, Mirsk? Those eyes?”

“Trickery! I wouldn’t trust him on our lands. I’ll not—”

“Rok wears a chain,” Kjorn said. “A golden chain of dragon craft. It was my father’s. It’s the only proof I can offer other than my word and my family’s story.”

The priestess considered that. “We shall return it to you, then—”

“No.” Kjorn surprised her and himself. “Let him keep it, when or if you release him. It gives him some dignity and I think he has none left.”

For a moment they asked no questions, and Kjorn closed his eyes to listen to the cool wind in the grass. The elders conferred in quiet voices.

After long moments, the priestess opened her wings to silence the others. “Son of Sverin.”

He inclined his head.

“My elders have given me their opinions, and the Starwind whispers of new tidings.” She studied him closely. Kjorn almost felt as if the gods looked at him, at length, through her old eyes. “It is my opinion that you were raised well, courageous and true. It is my opinion that you’re telling the truth, that you were fed lies about Per’s history and, the very moment you learned the truth, you wished to make things right. Whether coming here is honorable or foolhardy, I’m not certain, but certainly you are brave. Our trusted sentry told us the very first moment she saw you, Tyr shone on your face. This is not a sign we take lightly. You say your only intention here is to seek your wingbrother to make amends?”