Grudgebearer (46 page)

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Authors: J.F. Lewis

BOOK: Grudgebearer
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Reaching up with his left hand, Kholster grabbed the shaft and tried to break it off. The bolt, made of some exotic metal he didn't recognize, bent instead of breaking. Kholster swore.

Let me know when you get to the impressive part
, Vander sent again.

You'll know it when you see it
, Kholster sent.

Dragging the warpick and the dead Zaur on the end of it to him, Kholster tried to work the weapon free but couldn't get sufficient leverage with only one hand. He swore again as the last two Zaur regained their composure and began their advance. With no other choice, Kholster drew up his knees, tucked in his chin, and thrust with all his might into a backward summersault. The bolt still gripped firm into the root, but the bent shaft pulled through and out of his shoulder with a disturbing metallic twang. Kholster landed gracelessly on his backside, then threw himself to his feet, reaching for Grudge.

The two Zaur froze in their tracks, turned, and ran.

“Never run from an Aern,” Kholster chortled, charging after them into the forest, the cadence of his steps still declaring over and over again <>

It's actually not a bad move
, Vander thought at him.
It's been a long time since you were truly one with The Parliament of Ages.

Kholster didn't answer, his mind given over to the thrill of the hunt which Uled had forged into him. He didn't like to be grateful for anything his maker had done, but he did enjoy the hunt almost as much as he enjoyed the taste of Zaur.

Are they quicker than they used to be?
Kholster asked as the two Zaur split off in separate directions, crossed paths with one another again, then split up once more, confusing his senses and making it hard to track both Zaur.

You're slower
, Vander shot back,
and that pattern they're running is one you aren't used to without an Overwatch's map.

No
, Kholster thought,
they know this terrain better than they should.
They weren't running blindly; they purposefully led him across terrain which slowed him down.

They're running a scent trail set up to elude pursuit and set up an—

Kholster missed the broken-fanged Zaur until the last moment. Twenty arms shy of catching the two fleeing Zaur, Kholster sensed the incoming attack and managed to block the Skreel blade with Grudge's haft. “Ambush,” he chuckled. “Almost.”

“I have never fought your kind before, scarback,” his opponent hissed. “You are a true warrior. I doubt the others will fare as well.”

Kholster slapped the Skreel aside with his warpick and caught the Zaur by the throat. “The others?” His mind raced. The Zaur had said they were here for the softskins: the weeds and the magic slingers.

“Is your warlord trying to stop the Conjunction, lizard?” Kholster growled.

“When scarback's rage,” the Zaur hissed, “brings him for war / Then Aldo's prophecy will spur / the quick defeat of Aern and weed / serving Kilke's secret need.”

“I respect Aldo, lizard. I do, but those are merely words in the wind to me. The Aern are not slaves to prophecy.”

“To His secret purpose,” the Zaur rasped. “To His secret purpose.”

Kholster swore under his breath, and the Zaur spit blood in his face. With a quick exchange of blows, Kholster ended it, the Zaur falling lifeless at his feet. Kholster wiped the blood from his warpick and smiled as he saw a nearby blood oak.

You got all that?
he asked along his link. With the fight over, the connection with his people tapered off, color seeping back into his vision.

Maker!
Bloodmane shouted in his mind at the same time Vander shouted,
Kholster!

What?

The two spoke over each other so much that, at first, he couldn't make out what they were saying. Something about Malmung and Kazan and . . . Rae'en.

One at a time
, he shouted at the two of them.
Vander, speak!

Malmung sent word via—an image of Malmung's warsuit hit Kholster's mind—Kazan, M'jynn, Joose, and Arbokk were almost within range of Rae'en when she thought: “Oh no! I think I just—” and then she stopped sending.

Kholster abandoned pursuit of the escaping Zaur, stopping as swiftly as a bull struck dead in in mid-charge by a war maul.

Did she send anything else before that?

Kazan says he thought she'd found some sort of tunnel and she thought something about blood being the same color in the dark and Zaur not taking any prisoners.

“Zaur take no prisoners,” Kholster whispered. Blood seemed to congeal in his veins. For a being who was not bothered by the elements, Kholster felt as if he might freeze solid and never move again. Chest tight, he clutched the mail over his heart. “If she is dead, then I will kill every single—”

Zhan!
He sent, cutting off his oath.
How close are your nearest Bone Finders?

I sent them on ahead to Fort Sunder to reunite with their warsuits. Once you reached The Parliament of Ages, I—

Rae'en has encountered the Zaur and stopped transmitting. Are her—

I'm checking
, Zhan sent back.
She's not sending at all?

Not according to her Overwatches—they say they were almost within range for full contact.

I can't touch her mind, Kholster. I can only sense her bones . . . approximate distance and direction. The closer I am, the more information I can glean, the more precise I can be—

I know all that
, Kholster snapped,
but is she—

Her bones are in motion. I can't tell you where exactly; it doesn't work like that, but we can—

FIND. THEM.

If she is still alive, that would be a violation of our purpose, First Bones, but with her status undetermined, I can act under the presumption that she is dead and her bones need to be retrieved. You will have to tell me very explicitly, or I cannot act lest I be Foresworn. What do you want me to do?

I want
, Kholster stared blindly at the blood oak tree which had made him smile only moments before. Hands tightening around Grudge's haft, he swung the implement, Grudge's forespike biting deep into wood. Releasing the haft he stepped away from the warpick and fought back a roar.

I want you to bring back the bones of my daughter, Zhan. The Armored Bone Finders are temporarily relieved of all other duties . . . except Caz. If Rae'en is still alive you will have my thanks and my apologies for what will then, with the benefit of hindsight, be viewed as an extreme overreaction and a misuse of the Ossuary's limited resources.

And do you have any further—

Break.
Kholster tore Grudge free of the tree and struck it again.
No
. And again.
Oaths.
With the fourth blow Grudge screeched like an eagle diving for prey . . . and with a resounding crack, the tree came down.

The Ossuarian
, Zhan thought formally,
sees no reason to deny the kholster of the Aernese army this request.

Kholster stared at the felled tree and shook his head in disgust, not just for killing the tree out of rage and frustration but at what his oaths required of him next. He wanted nothing more than to turn back and look for Rae'en. Alive or dead, he didn't know, but he needed to know. If she was dead . . .

Are you going to join up with the Bone Finders
, Vander thought,
or—

The Conjunction is upon us; I have sworn an oath
, Kholster thought grimly,
and the representative I dispatched to keep it has been delayed.

Kholster turned, breaking into a run.
Show me roughly where I—

A map appeared at the corner of his vision displaying his estimated position and the suggested route to Oot.

If the Zaur are trying to stop the Conjunction
, Vander thought,
the other representatives might need assistance.

I swore to be there. Nothing more.
Kholster thought bitterly.
Let them die.

CHAPTER 41

AGE-OLD ENEMIES

Sneaking down the hallway of the royal palace in Port Ammond, Yavi spotted Gloomy. Gloomy wasn't his real name, but it was what Yavi had come to call Prince Dolvek in her head. She had always known there were physical differences between her people and his, but she hadn't expected them to make such a big difference. Vael tried to focus on the being inside the flesh, not the flesh itself, but the Oathbreakers, Dolvek, in particular, couldn't see past it. As a result, Yavi had taken it upon herself to catalogue the differences in hopes of understanding the Oathbreaker's point of view even if it was, well . . . stupid.

Gloomy, like most Eldrennai, stood a hand and a fist taller than Yavi, and where her ears were long and pointed, his showed a more subdued, rounded point, almost like a human's ears. Smaller ears probably explained why it was so easy for her to sneak up on him. Gloomy had teeth instead of dental ridges. His hair was fine, like silken thread, not thick like hers. Her spring skin—she tried not to think about what it meant for her to have kept both her head petals and soft skin this late into Fall when heading to spend an extended period with an Aern—was very similar to his, still soft, smooth, and supple, not yet coarse and dark as it thickened at winter. Yavi still couldn't understand why it made such a huge difference.

All Eldrennai possessed a certain preoccupation with their own thoughts, which, in Yavi's opinion, made Dolvek's people rather stuffy. Vael had no such problem. Forging a life in the wild, far from the dead cities, her people lived life with an exuberance and freedom she wished she could explain to Dolvek.

Unable to convey this fierce pioneer spirit to him, she settled for sneaking up behind him and making him spill his tea.

“Good morning!” she said sharply as she passed behind his chair in the Great Hall. As was becoming usual, he dropped his teacup entirely and reached for his sword before he realized that he'd been “Vaeled” again. Yavi loved that phrase.

“Fair morning to you as well,” he said gruffly, wiping ineffectually with a silk handkerchief at the green tea on his blue velvet doublet. His long black hair fell partially in his eyes, and she grinned back at him from beneath her
samir.

One of the serving women, Tasha, stifled a giggle and winked at her. That was another difference: Eldrennai dressed much too formally. Even the human serving woman wore a lace-trimmed formal gown. Yavi had tried to wear one of those contraptions to a dinner held for her by the Eldrennai, and the results had been quite scandalous.

Worn backwards, the dresses were much more comfortable, but far too revealing for the prudish Eldrennai.
I mean honestly
, she thought to herself,
they're just nipples. We only have them because the Oathbreakers like them so much. Why are they so afraid to see them? And why were they so scandalized by her pants? Was it that they didn't know she had legs or that they wished she were shaped like a bell, carried around by tiny roots, like the cilia of a caterpillar?

From that point on Yavi had worn her doeskin leathers, and no one had suggested she do otherwise. Yavi wondered briefly how an Eldrennai would react to the sight of a Vael sunning herself, then blinked it away with a cold shiver as she realized she didn't really want to think about it.

Fetching her own plate, a thin ceramic dish bordered with enameled roses chased with silver, she went right into the kitchens and served herself several slices of toast. She hesitated at the eggs and the thickly sliced bacon, then looked to the cook for confirmation that the food was safe.

“Don't you worry, dear,” the large matronly human cook said. “I sent my Jason out this morning to find wild quail eggs, and that bacon is from the same boar our Howard killed yesterday. All properly hunted and pleasing to the Huntsman.”

“My thanks to you, Emma!” Grinning, Yavi helped herself to two soft-boiled quail eggs and three large slices of the savory boar bacon. “And to Jason and Howard.”

“I,” Emma hesitated, “had Felix bring in some of his good potting soil too, if you have a craving . . . ?”

“No, but thank you.” Yavi shook her head. “I might sneak back in for some, but it distresses the prince. I don't know why. There are good minerals in there.”

Emma laughed. “It'll be here, Princess.”

Tasha steered Yavi out of the kitchen with a gentle tap—backs of her fingers only—against Yavi's waist and gestured to a seat across from the prince.

As Yavi sat down, Grivek, king of the Eldrennai, came into the Hall. Far more severe than his son, Dolvek's father scared the yarp (not that Vael yarped or had any need to rid themselves of bodily waste, but Queen Kari had assured her that was the new Aern word for their equivalent of defecation) out of Yavi every time he walked into the room. His eyes had seen the passage of millennia and found fault with most of it.

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