Trinity (18 page)

When she felt calm, Kiana looked
Skaric in the eyes. “It will be dark soon. You should eat something
and then sleep.”

Skaric grimaced. “I couldn’t eat.
Water would be good.” He tried to sit up fully, but his arm gave
way and he collapsed to the ground, wincing.

Nidan helped him move, propping
him up against one of the broad trees.

Kiana fetched one of the water
flasks and handed it to Skaric. “Nidan has been letting me take
watches. Short watches.” A smile spread across her lips. It felt
good to be able to smile.

Skaric glanced at Nidan and then
took a sip of water.

“
It’s given me a
chance to rest,” Nidan said.

Skaric stared at Nidan. “How long
have I…?”

“
Two full
days.”

Skaric nodded and took another
longer drink.

Kiana fidgeted with the sleeves of
her dress. “Skaric… we need to do something about your
appearance…”

He looked away from her.

“
You looking so
obviously like a Wolf… it’s dangerous. Not just for you, but for us
as well.”

Skaric didn’t answer her. Kiana
could hear the movement of the water in the flask he was holding as
it began to slosh against the hide.

“
You could have
died!”

“
I know.” Skaric
took a deep breath. “I know that. But it isn’t that
simple.”

Kiana pursed her lips. “I don’t
see why not. Carrying on looking like that is going to get you
killed and possibly us with you. We’re not talking much, Skaric. A
haircut and a shave…” She paused as Nidan shook his head. It almost
stopped her from carrying on but her words had to be said and
heard. “Can you go back?”

Skaric stared at her.

“
Home… can you ever
go back
home?”

“
After everything
I’ve done?” Skaric shook his head. A sad expression flitted into
his eyes. “No. I can’t ever go back.”

“
Then really,
what does it matter?” Kiana tried to make her voice sound
sympathetic. “Isn’t it more important to be safe than to cling onto
a past you can never reclaim?”

Skaric continued to stare at
her.

At least he had a past to
remember. She had been taken from hers as a baby. She’d never known
her family; she didn’t even know where home was. It would have been
easier to shave him and cut his hair while he was sleeping, but
that had seemed cruel. “Why is it so important? To your kin, I
mean.”

Skaric drew his knees up to his
chest and stared absently at the campfire. “It’s a sign of
adulthood.” His voice was as distant as his gaze. “When you’re old
enough to grow a beard, you’re old enough to stand in battle and
fight or learn the ways of the nyxii.”

“
Nyxii?”

He briefly glanced at her. “You
call us mages.”

Kiana shuddered. The memory of
seeing her Guardians burn plagued her.

Skaric sighed. “The quicker you’re
able to grow a beard, the faster you gain recognition amongst the
elders. If you’re slow to do so, you’re more likely to face
ridicule.” He rested his chin on the tops of his knees. The
reflected firelight danced in his eyes. “Some of the older men
continue to grow their beards and weave a bead or stone into it
for…” He stopped abruptly.

“
For
what?”

Skaric breathed in deeply before
replying. “For every life they take in battle.”

Kiana’s mouth dropped open. She
shut it again firmly. “It’s obviously important to the Wolves.” It
seemed pointless and barbaric to judge a man’s worth on something
so trivial. Not that she knew how manhood was judged by her people.
Perhaps it was something equally silly.

“
Yes… for the
Wolves.” Skaric looked at them both. “But I gave up the right to be
a Wolf as soon as I helped you two.”

Kiana pressed her lips together,
forcing a threatened smile away. “I’d best get to work then before
the light fails.”

“
And while you’re
at it, we can talk,” Nidan said.

Skaric looked at them both
blankly.

“
About what I saw
in Norlea, in the temple,” Kiana said.

They didn’t speak at first. Kiana
used the dagger to cut Skaric’s midnight dark hair shorter into a
ragged but far more acceptable style. As each clump of hair fell to
the ground, Skaric’s scowl became deeper and deeper. He didn’t look
at her once; he just kept his gaze fixed on the fire.

They had been given a shaving
knife and a bar of soap by Alish. Kiana hestiated; it seemed wrong.
Skaric sat absolutely still, his expression completely blank and
his stare almost vacant as she lathered the soap and rubbed it into
his beard. She raised the blade to start work.

He flinched away from her. “No
offence, but have you ever done this before?”

Kiana could feel Nidan staring at
her. “My Guardians taught me how to play dice. I lost a game and
had to shave three of them for a week.” She moved the blade so that
it was resting against Skaric’s cheek. “So yes, I know what I’m
doing.” Kiana saw his cheek muscles flex, heard his sharp intake of
breath as she began to shave the hair from his face.

On the other side of the fire,
Nidan settled down with his sword and a cloth, cleaning the already
shining steel. “The fresco…” he said.

Kiana wiped the frothy soap and
shaved hair from the blade with a cloth and began another stroke.
She glanced at Nidan before speaking. “It showed the events before
and after Miale’s immortal death.”

“
I know that,”
Nidan said impatiently.

She glared at him. “But you didn’t
study it.”

Nidan paused and glanced up at her
apologetically. “I know that something in that fresco convinced you
we have to go to Orholt, even though it’s been abandoned for a
thousand years.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’d hoped that going to
Norlea would have had the opposite effect on you.”

Kiana paused mid stroke,
acknowleging how hard Nidan’s confession must have been. She half
closed her eyes, remembering the images on the fresco. “The first
incarnation was born there.” Kiana opened her eyes and went back to
concentrating on her task. Slowly, she was unveiling soft, untanned
skin.

“
So? Wasn’t that
to be expected?” Nidan asked.

“
She was born
there. She grew up there. Everyone else moved away and she stayed
there. She died there.”

“
I still don’t
get what’s so important about that.”

“
Orholt was the
centre of the battle,” Skaric said. “Hardly a safe place for the
mortal incarnation of Miale.”

Kiana looked at his eyes. He still
wasn’t looking at her. There was a hard edge to his gaze, turning
the blue intensity of his eyes to blocks of ice. She shivered.
There hadn’t been so much coldness in his eyes since he had agreed
to help her.

Looking away, Kiana carried on.
“She stayed even though it wasn’t safe, even when everyone
abandoned the city. There had to be a reason for that. A link… a
connection. Something!”

She glanced at Nidan. His hand was
resting on the blade of his sword, and he was staring at the flames
as though in a trance. “But that was a thousand years ago, Kiana.
There’s probably nothing left.”

Kiana felt her lip tremble.
Gently, she used her fingertips to turn Skaric’s face towards her,
so that she could shave the other side. He still managed to avoid
her gaze.

“
It’s the only
lead we have, Nidan. Orholt is where this mess began. Besides…” she
puffed out her cheeks, unsure if she should say any
more.

“
What?”

“
The castle in
the fresco: Orholt castle… I’ve dreamt about that place since I was
a little girl.” Kiana glanced to the sky and then busied herself
with cleaning the blade again. “Look up.”

Skaric hesitated.

“
I won’t cut you,
I promise.”

Skaric pressed his lips tightly
together but complied, allowing Kiana to begin to shave his neck.
She felt him tremble as she touched the sharp blade to his
skin.

“
I can’t explain
it. But I know, in here…” Kiana used her free hand to gesture to
her heart. “I know we’ll find what we’re looking for in Orholt.
It’s like I’m being drawn there.” Her words had to sound
crazy.

Kiana heard the pop and crackle of
the fire filling the silence.

Finally, she heard Nidan sigh.
“All right. I believe you.”

A lump formed in Kiana’s throat as
she smiled.

“
But it’s a long
way,” Nidan said. “We have to assume the Wolves are still hunting
you, and even if they’re not, the Guardians will be. Besides, no
one has entered the Fallen Lands in almost a millennium. You know
going there is madness, right?”

Kiana cradled both her hands in
her lap. She was still holding the shaving knife even though she
had just finished her task. “I know. But so is wanting to restore a
broken trinity!”

“
Did the fresco
show how Ysia died?” Skaric said.

Kiana looked back at him. His face
was still obscured by the white soap froth, but at least he was
finally looking at her.

She shook her head. “No. There was
only one image of Ysia, alongside Pios and Miale. Before Miale’s
death.”

Skaric nodded, his eyes sparkling
unmistakably in the gathering darkness.

Kiana used a clean corner of the
cloth to wipe his face, almost gasping at the change. She had never
realised how much difference a beard would make to a man’s face.
“How old are you?”

Skaric’s brow furrowed. “Eighteen
summers. Why?”

Kiana’s eyes widened. This man,
who had faced the Darkness twice and risked everything to save the
life of a girl—a stranger—was barely older than her. Would she ever
have that much courage? That much strength of heart? She doubted
it.

“
I… I thought you
were older than that. The beard made you… you look younger now.”
Kiana looked abruptly away from Skaric, willing the heat in her
cheeks to subside quickly.

He was handsome. She’d never
realised that before. His face was lean but not harsh. His features
were strong without being imposing. Somehow, the loss of the beard
made the intensity of his eyes more prominent. Kiana felt them
watching her and in response, her heartbeat quickened.

“
Much better.”
She wrapped the knife in the cloth and then unwrapped it again.
“Sleep. You need sleep. We have a long journey ahead if we’re going
to get to Orholt.”

Kiana tried to stand but Skaric
took hold of her wrist. His touch was gentle but there was
surprising force behind it, despite his weakened state.

“
If I’m not a
Wolf anymore, what am I?”

Kiana stared at him, her eyes wide. She couldn’t think of an
answer to give him. His stare was wide and earnest. She had to
say
something
. She
wanted
to comfort
him.

“
Our companion.”
Kiana worked her wrist free and took hold of his hand. She felt
tension flood into it and felt a brief tug as he almost pulled away
from her. Ignoring the movement, she looked him in the eyes,
smiling. “Our friend.”

Chapter Eleven

Skaric stared down at the
patchwork valley as Kiana and Nidan dismounted. To spare the
horses, they had been taking turns to walk, despite Nidan’s
protests that Skaric was not well enough to do so. The plateau came
to a sudden end as the ground dropped away in a steep, rocky slope
that was easily as tall as Blackoak Tower. A path had been carved
out of the hillside, cutting back and forth in a series of sharp
twists. A few leagues away, Skaric could see the town of Linden:
the last major settlement between them and the border to the Fallen
Lands.

A grey wall surrounded the
wall, encasing a sprawl of buildings of all manner of shapes and
sizes. Despite the distance, he could see that two large buildings
stood out from all the rest: a tall, pale building with a spire
that rose up into the blue sky and a large grey, squat building.
They sat next to each other in the centre of the town. Skaric
shuddered. He didn’t need Nidan to tell him that he was staring at
the temples of Miale and Pios.

“
Do we really
have to go down there?” Kiana said as she joined him. “I don’t
think the horses will like it.”

The path, steep and uneven, was
only just wide enough for the horses to walk single file. The
stones and rocks that lay half buried in the dirt, combined with
the sharp corners, made the path treacherous to navigate.

“
We could go
further south,” Nidan said. “But that would bring us very close to
Fairlake and Ironhold.”

Skaric shook his head
decisively. “We can lead the horses.” He didn’t want to go anywhere
near Iornhold, the main stronghold of the Guardians, or Fairlake,
home to the high temple of Miale.

“
Are you fit
enough to walk? It’s a long way down,” Nidan said.

Skaric’s mouth twitched in a
failed complaint. Nidan’s concern was probably justified. Skaric
knew his skin was still on the pale side of normal; he got tired
far too easily and had suffered several headaches and visual
hallucinations. At that moment, it looked like Kiana was surrounded
by a white corona—a trick of his weak mind and the fierce sunlight.
It was hard to ignore the side effects of the blood loss.

“
I’ll be
fine,” Skaric said. He didn’t care how well trained the horses
were; if one of them spooked, it would be safer if they were all
walking.