The Reborn King (Book Six) (13 page)

“She did,” Aaliyah affirmed. “But even during the short time I knew her, I learned that the Oracle did nothing without purpose. To her, it was a sacrifice worth making.”

Kaylia closed her eyes and murmured a prayer to the Creator for Basanti. “Then I will do my best to ensure that it was not made in vain,” she promised after completing her offering.

The two women laid down on the soft ground until the sun had set. Both were still exhausted from their use of the
flow,
so it was decided that they would rest where they were until dawn. Aaliyah built a small fire and shared the bit of jerky and bread she had with her.

All the time, Kaylia was yearning to reach out to Gewey for comfort. But she knew that she mustn’t. His road was far too perilous, and he needed no distraction from her.

They had traveled far enough to be unconcerned with enemies. And, as they had arrived at this spot without leaving a trail, it was unlikely that anyone could know where they were, even if they were looking.

For all that, her sleep came slowly and was fraught with disturbing images.

* * * * *

Footfalls in the forest early the next morning had them on their feet in an instant. Aaliyah drew her blade while Kaylia, without a weapon, filled herself with the
flow
ready to roast anyone foolish enough to attack.

“It sounds like just one person,” whispered Kaylia.

A few moments later, to their astonishment, Basanti appeared from behind the brush. She looked to be in a terrible state. Her tattered clothes were stained black and her left arm was hanging uselessly by her side. Cuts and gashes covered her face, while her right eye was swollen almost completely shut.

Aaliyah instantly dropped her sword and rushed to her side. At first Basanti resisted, but then allowed herself to be helped over to the smoldering ashes of the dead fire.

Kaylia began examining her wounds.

“I’ll be fine,” Basanti told her weakly. “My kind heal rather quickly.”

“There’s a stream not far from here,” said Aaliyah. “I’ll fetch some water to clean you.”

Basanti waved her hand. “That is not necessary. I won’t be staying.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kaylia. “You should return with us.” She glanced over to Aaliyah for support, but her friend's head was suddenly cast down with eyes closed.

“I cannot,” said Basanti. “I have become a danger to you…and to Jayden.”

“I don’t understand?”

Basanti reached out to touch Kaylia’s cheek. “Because of what I have done, I am now as Yanti was. By spilling blood, I've released a power inside of me that I have long kept at bay. If I stay with you, the Reborn King will surely come for me. Even now I can hear his call beckoning me to join him.”

“He will not have you.” Kaylia told her. “We can protect you. And when Gewey returns he will be able to heal whatever is wrong with you.”

Basanti shook her head and gave a sad smile. “Oh my dear, how I wish I could simply be healed. But what ails me runs far deeper than you can guess. I think I finally understand why Pósix refused to help Yanti all those years ago. It wasn’t because she wouldn’t. It was because she couldn’t. The very nature of what I am has been changed. Now I am little better than the creatures I just fought.”

“That’s not true,” countered Kaylia. “You are the Oracle of Manisalia. You have guided the world for countless generations. And you are the wisest and most compassionate among us.”

“That is kind of you to say,” said Basanti. “But what you describe is who I was…not who I have become. And now that I have seen you and know that you are safe, I must go.”

Kaylia opened her mouth to protest but Basanti pressed her fingers to her lips. “Please. This is a very hard thing for me. Do not try to change my mind. It will only increase the pain I feel.”

“Where will you go?” asked Aaliyah, her head still lowered.

“Far from the reach of our enemy,” she replied. “Far from the sight of anyone. And there I shall remain.”

Basanti took another long look at Kaylia, then struggled to her feet.

“You should at least rest until you’ve healed a little,” offered Kaylia.

“There is no need,” Basanti said. “I am already feeling my wounds close. And you have a child to care for. There is no time for you to be wasting your efforts on me.”

Kaylia embraced her gently so as not to irritate her wounds. “It is not a waste. How can I ever thank you enough for what you have done? I swear that when this is over I will find a way to make you whole again.”

Basanti sighed. “I would say that you shouldn’t bother. But I must admit…I would like that.”

She embraced Kaylia for a final time, then turned to Aaliyah. “Thank you,” she whispered. “And keep them safe.”

“I will,” she promised, at last raising her eyes.

Without another word Basanti turned away. In a flash, she vanished into the forest.

There was a brief reflective pause while both women stared after her. It was Aaliyah who broke the silence. “Come, we should be on our way.”

The journey to Valshara was not so far, and a quick pace – often a run – had them there in just a few days. Kaylia frequently looked back over her shoulder. Not for foes…but in the faint hope that she would see Basanti catching them up.

The vision Aaliyah had described continued to weigh on her mind. But after a time she resolved to ignore her own fears of inadequacy and concentrate only on the love for her family. She had to trust that this would be enough to ensure that Jayden did not take the wrong road.

As they passed through Valshara’s gates they were greeted by both Linis and Dina. Dina came at a run, throwing her arms around Kaylia and very nearly lifting her off her feet. “Thank the gods you are safe,” she cried. “We were so worried.”

Kaylia smiled through her fatigue. “Thanks to Aaliyah and Basanti, I am fine.” The name Basanti stuck in her throat.

Linis stepped forward and bowed low.

Kaylia laughed with amusement. “Are we so distant that you now bow to me?”

“My wife feels that I am in need of refinement,” he replied, smirking. “A life spent wandering the forests of the world has made me an ill-suited mate for the High Lady of Amon Dähl.” 

“She is not wrong,” said Kaylia. She wrapped her arms around the
seeker
and hugged him fondly. “But you can be forgiven this time for your rough, uncouth ways.”

After embracing each other, Aaliyah led them inside.

“Jayden sleeps,” Dina said, before Kaylia could ask her. “Ertik is with him.”

Kaylia raised an eyebrow.

“He has turned out to be quite the nursemaid,” Dina continued. “As has my dear husband. Between the two of them, Jayden has not seen a single second alone.” She took Linis’ hand. “Who knew that the fiercest
seeker
of all the elf tribes would be such a gentle caregiver?”

Her words forced an embarrassed smile from Linis, which became even more self-conscious when Kaylia bowed low to him in a humorous copy of his own earlier gesture.

Dina walked Kaylia to her room, showing Aaliyah to hers along the way. Kaylia regarded the dozens of soldiers guarding the passageways with curiosity. But the excitement of seeing her son kept any questions unspoken for the present.

Just as she had been told, Ertik was sitting beside the cradle. He was reading a book, but looked as if he was about to doze off. However, his eyes lit up the instant he saw Kaylia.

“Gods be praised,” he whispered, trying not to wake the baby.

Kaylia kissed the man on his cheek, then positioned herself as close as possible alongside her son. She stood there simply gazing down at him for more than a minute.

“There is much you should know,” said Dina. “But nothing that can’t wait until after you have rested and eaten.”

“Thank you,” said Kaylia, without taking her eyes off Jayden for a second.

Unable to resist, she carefully lifted her sleeping child and held him close. Jayden stirred and opened his eyes for a moment. A tiny smile appeared on his lips as soon as he saw his mother’s face. Kaylia smiled back at him, joyful tears running down her cheeks.

After a bath, a meal, and a short rest, Aaliyah, Dina, and Linis came to join her.

“The Oracle will always be remembered,” promised Dina, once Aaliyah had finished telling them of her and Basanti's experience. “And as you said – perhaps we can find a way to heal her.”

Linis then related his encounter with the rogue elves. Alternate waves of shock and relief raced to Kaylia’s heart. She immediately rose from her chair and embraced the
seeker
.

“You have my eternal gratitude,” she said. “And Gewey's as well.”

“That is why you see all the guards,” explained Linis. “Well, certainly some of them. When Jayden and I arrived, their number was immediately doubled. It would need an army of ten thousand to take the halls leading here.”

“And what of your mother?” Kaylia asked Dina.

“She is in the south for now. Gone to visit her village and to help the humans devastated by the war.”

“And what will you do?” asked Linis.

“I will remain here,” Kaylia replied. “Until the end.”

“And when it is over?” asked Aaliyah.

“I will make my dreams a reality and go to Gewey’s home village.”

They talked and told tales until late into the evening. Just as they were about to retire, a message arrived for Dina.

“Aaliyah,” she said, after reading it carefully. “You are needed in Althetas.”

“Unless there is truly urgent business there, I would prefer to stay with Kaylia and Jayden,” she protested firmly.

“Your people have arrived,” Dina explained. “Ships with red sails have been spotted anchored just off the Althetan coast.”

Aaliyah’s eyes brightened for a moment. “Then you are right. I
must
go. Would you please send word ahead that I am coming?”

“Of course,” said Dina.

With that, everyone said goodnight, leaving Kaylia alone with Jayden once again. Only Ertik came by a little later to check if they needed anything.

Kaylia decided not to put Jayden back in his crib. Instead, she pulled him close as she settled into her bed.

“You shall never be without me again,” she whispered. “And I
will
be there to show you the right path. That, I promise with all my heart.”

Gewey stared out over the rolling hilltops of the Eastland. The heat of the noonday sun was almost intolerable, and he was tempted more than once to use the
flow
to cool himself. He was hoping that his use of it in the cavern beneath the Vrykol fortress had gone undetected. Nehrutu had told him that he had not been able to sense anything, so they were reasonably sure that the nature of the place somehow contained it.

They had run across a few bands of elves heading east, but thought it best to avoid them. Many of these were likely unwilling or unable to accept recent changes and were seeking to start anew in the depth of the desert's endless sands. Being confronted with a god, an elf, and the last of the
first born
would only serve to antagonize them needlessly. If they could not bring themselves to live among humans but were prepared to leave peacefully…so be it. Better that than more conflict. And perhaps, in time, the elves of the desert would be able to teach them a measure of their own acceptance and understanding.

“Are you not hungry?” asked Felsafell.

Gewey turned and accepted an apple. “I was just thinking about the elves. Some of them seem so unhappy. Change has taken its toll on them. I wonder if they can ever learn to accept what has happened.”

Nehrutu, who was sitting down in the tall grass munching on a piece of flatbread, looked up. “My people will find their way. Once my kin arrive they will help unite us. Of this, I am sure.”

“And what about those who refuse?” asked Gewey.

“No one can stand alone and separate from the world indefinitely,” noted Felsafell. “Those who do so will soon find themselves a dying breed. You can hide from others for a time, but you cannot hide from the world itself. Try as you might, it eventually finds you.”

“So you think they will simply die out?” asked Nehrutu.

“Ultimately, yes,” he affirmed. “Though I imagine that many will return to the fold in due course. Change goes hard on the proud. But even pride can be tempered by wisdom and the right guidance.”

Nehrutu turned to Gewey. “And what of you? You have often said that you wish to return to your home town once this war is over. Do you feel that is a possibility?”

“I would like to think so,” he replied earnestly. “Once the Dark Knight is defeated, I am hoping that the name of Darshan will fade into history so I can live in peace.”

“The name Darshan will never be forgotten, I’m afraid,” said Nehrutu. “But should you find a quiet life impossible here, there is always a place for you across the Abyss.”

Gewey smiled. “I may take you up on that when the time comes.” He stretched out his arms. “Though there is much to do before that.”

Their journey to the edge of the desert would normally have taken less than a week. But in their wish to avoid encounters, several detours had been forced upon them. So, by the time they reached the first border town, more than two weeks had already passed. Felsafell’s skill in hunting small game had certainly come in handy along the way, keeping them in food throughout. But now things were different. They were preparing to enter the scorching heat of the deep sands and needed to re-supply.

The town was little more than a trading post, which Gewey decided it would be best for him to enter alone. By now, elves were not the uncommon sight they had once been in this region, but an elf traveling with a human would still raise more than a few eyebrows. And Felsafell would certainly draw his fair share of attention as well. They made camp a few miles east of the town, just where the grass began to give way to hard packed sand. Here, they were unlikely to encounter anyone other than perhaps a desert elf or a wayward traveler.

While purchasing his provisions, Gewey noticed the tense mood of the traders and merchants. Though no one said why directly, fear seemed to linger on every face he saw.

“Trade goes well?” he asked a food merchant.

The merchant shrugged. “As well as can be expected. It would be much better if all the rabble out west would settle their affairs.”

“Well, wars don’t last forever,” Gewey said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I suppose. But I wish they’d keep it to themselves and stop sending their mess to the desert.”

“What mess?”

The man glanced from side to side before answering in a hushed tone. “Evil things. Things like you’ve never heard of.”

“You mean the elves?” asked Gewey.

He huffed loudly. “What do I care about the elves? Sure, it was strange to see so many coming out of the sands. But they keep to their own affairs as far as I can tell. And the ones going in don’t give us no bother either.”

“What then?”

“Some people say that an evil has been awakened. Whatever it is, it roams the desert and slaughters both man and beast. It’s even invaded some of our towns. I've never known nothing like that in these parts before. If you ask me, it’s some foul beast from the west.” He spat a curse. “Bloody westerners and their bloody war.”

Vrykol, thought Gewey. “Have you actually seen this thing?” he asked.

“No,” the merchant admitted. “But I’ve seen the bodies. Torn apart like wet parchment they were.” He shuddered from the memory, then regarded Gewey’s provisions. “From the look of things, you're heading out to the desert yourself.”

“Not too far,” he lied. “I heard that some of the people from my village had come this way. I was hoping to find them.”

“Then you're wasting your time. No one goes there anymore. Not even a short ways. Whatever is out there, it's killing anything that ventures off too far.”

Gewey nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

The man snorted. “Another fool from the west. Go on then. Get your fool self killed. See if I care.”

Gewey spent a few more hours in the town, striking up conversations wherever he could. Nearly everyone he spoke to told him the same thing. Something was definitely lurking in the desert - killing anyone stupid enough to venture forth.

By the time he returned to the others it was just after dusk. There was a half moon, and stars were scattered across a cloudless sky. After splitting up the provisions, he told them what he had heard in town.

“Vrykol, I would guess,” said Nehrutu.

“That’s what I was thinking too,” agreed Gewey.

Felsafell rubbed his chin and stared into the small fire they had built. “It would seem logical. Though we must also take into
account the corrupted half-man we encountered. If such beasts wander the desert, we should be cautious.”

“We can handle them, I think,” said Gewey, grinning.

“Yes,” agreed Felsafell. “But a large number of them would most surely be a problem unless you were to use your power. Pray we do not run into such a force. It could expose our hand prematurely.”

The truth of what the
first born
had said descended on Gewey like a fog. If they were to encounter an overwhelming number of foes, he would be left with little choice but to use the
flow
. And he was not ready to reveal himself just yet. Later, once they were in the mountains, it would no longer matter. By then there would be nothing the Dark Knight could do to stop him.

They slept for only a few hours and were well into the dunes by the time the orange sky heralded the dawn.  Even before the sun had cleared the horizon they could feel the heat rising.

“If needs be, I can use the
flow
to cool us,” offered Nehrutu. “It is unlikely the Reborn King will notice such a weak display. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn’t confuse me with Gewey.”

“Let us hope it will not come to that,” said Felsafell. “I have not been among the sands in some time. But I still remember where to find the Oasis.”

“And what of the blood of the sands?” asked Gewey.

“An entrance which will take us to the base of the mountains is about a week’s travel from here.”

The thought of enduring the heat for a week had Gewey's face twisting into a frown. “Then let’s not delay,” he said.

By midday, he had the distinct impression that they were being watched. And from the look on Felsafell’s face, he was thinking the same.

“What is it?” asked Nehrutu.

Felsafell halted and gestured for silence. After more than two minutes of careful listening, he smiled. “Elves,” he announced.

Nehrutu grunted. He was still unsettled by the way desert elves were invisible to his senses. Their complete rejection of the flow seemed somehow unnatural and wrong.

“They’ve been following us for at least an hour,” Felsafell added.

“Why don’t they approach?” Gewey asked.

“They are probably trying to figure out what to make of me,” Felsafell replied.

Gewey laughed. “I can’t blame them. I’ve been around you for a while now, and I still find myself staring sometimes.”

They halted and allowed the elves to watch for a time. Gewey noted that they were even more cautious than he'd known them to be in the past – far beyond their typical wariness regarding strangers. He hoped it was simply the sight of the
first born
that was causing their trepidation.  

Finally, four elves crested a nearby dune and made their way down to the base. They allowed Gewey, Nehrutu, and Felsafell to approach the rest of the way.

“Greetings,” called out a stocky elf.

Gewey guessed him to be a sand master. His bearing and manner at once reminded him of Weila. “Hello,” he responded with a welcoming smile, relieved that their first encounter in the desert was not going to be with Vrykol.

“What brings you so far from the protection of the cities?” the elf asked.

Gewey cocked his head. “The last time I was in the desert, the elves were far more courteous. I was at least afforded an introduction before I was questioned.”

There was a long uncomfortable silence as the elf’s eyes darted from Gewey to Felsafell. “I know who you are, Darshan. And your presence
is
welcome. However, it is also unexpected. My people followed you west to do battle with your enemies. And yet now I find you here. I would know why you are not with them.”

“It is for reasons I can’t explain, I’m afraid. But I can tell you that your people fight on, and have achieved a great victory in the city of Baltria.”

This seemed to ease the tension somewhat.

The elf bowed. “For this news I am grateful. I am sand master Maljahar.” He looked pointedly at Gewey's companions.

“I am Felsafell,” He spoke without further prompting.  “Last of the
first born
. Forgive me if my odd appearance has startled you.”

Maljahar raised an eyebrow. “The
first born
? I’m sorry. Your race is unfamiliar to me. Though I do recall stories of the name Felsafell from my youth. If you are indeed he…” He shook his head, as if the thought was almost too much to comprehend.

Nehrutu bowed. “And I am Nehrutu. My mate Aaliyah has spent time among your people.”

“Ah yes, I did meet her briefly when she and Darshan first came here.” The sand master gave his companions a quick nod. In an instant, they turned and set off back up the dune. “There is a small oasis not far away,” he continued. “I would be pleased if you would join us there.”

“And what of your friends?” asked Gewey.

“They will be keeping a watchful eye.” The hint of fear in his voice did not go unnoticed.

The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the oasis. It was much smaller than the one Gewey had seen the last time – just a tiny spring bubbling up beside a meager cluster of moss covered rocks and bushes. The scattering of thin grass was large enough to allow only about ten people to escape the sands. Gewey wondered how such a fragile place could endure the blazing heat. He’d seen the power of the sun and what it could do to crops and flowers, even when growing close to a river.
There must be a massive underground reservoir here
, he guessed.

Maljahar built a small fire and offered the group a flask of sweet smelling liquid, which they accepted gratefully.  “Tell me more of what is happening in the west,” he requested.

Gewey related details of the siege of Baltria, and of the impending march on Angrääl. This seemed to satisfy the elf.  He relaxed a little more, though his eyes remained ever watchful.

“The humans in the border towns say that there is an evil roaming the sands,” said Gewey. “I assumed they were speaking about the Vrykol. Have you seen anything?”

Maljahar nodded slowly. “There is…something. But it’s not Vrykol, though we have also seen those vermin wandering about here and there. They usually do their best to avoid us and stay mostly to the areas with little or no water. Places where even we have difficulty traveling. My people have killed a few of them, but they’re not easy to catch.”

“If it’s not Vrykol, then what is it?” asked Gewey.

“We don’t know,” he replied. He glanced nervously into the distance of the fading daylight. “But it travels in shadow, as if the darkness is a cloak it can wrap itself within. Only a few of us have seen it and lived. It looks human, but its flesh is as pale as a spirit. It can move faster than any elf, and kills without hesitation. Even the bravest among us no longer venture out alone.”