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Authors: Rhiannon Paille

Tags: #juvenile fiction, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Norse

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BOOK: Vulture
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She shuddered and he lay down on her thigh. She rested her hand on his neck. “I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t make me remember it. Can you talk about Avristar?”

Pux took a deep breath. “Do you remember that time at the pond with Lorus?”

She smiled. “You mean that time you two tried to outdo each other by climbing as high as you could and jumping in?”

“Aye, that time.”

Kaliel sighed. Her mind drifted to Krishani and his coldness, Elwen and his dangerous eyes, but she settled against the wall and tried to pretend she was back at home in Evennses watching Pux and Lorus climb trees. She feared nothing would ever be like that again.

* * *

2 - Mortality and Immortality

Pux talked about Avristar for a long time. Even though his chest tightened, he didn’t stop. The night drew on and Krishani didn’t come back. More warriors poured into the hall and the table of food became a table of scraps. Servants came by twice to check on them, but they stayed pressed against the stone wall in their corner of the hall, tucked between the small pillars of thick rock. Pux kept his head on her lap, and she ran her hands through his hair. It was comforting. He had his best friend back and wanted to be giddy, but there was nothing to be excited about. His bones ached, fur concealing dark bruises forming along his mid section. At one point he took off the armor and chainmail and threw it on the floor beside them.

Kaliel talked, and laughed at the funny parts. She didn’t say anything about Krishani and he wondered why, but snuffed those thoughts out. Pux loved her, but it wasn’t like that. He would never see her as the Amethyst Flame. He couldn’t fathom why Elwen looked at her like she was Lady Atara. It didn’t seem right. She didn’t exude greatness. Pux reveled more in the subtleties of her nature. Her infectious laugh, her gentle caresses. Her voice wasn’t the same but it was soothing. She talked about trees, tripping on roots, losing the games. She avoided talking about Fire Festivals or waterfalls, or anything that might lead them to the chaos around them.

Pux never wanted to see a battlefield again. His time of death and killing was behind him. He hadn’t done much in this battle. The way Handele, the leader of the Avristarian army, fought was different. Pux always had another warrior on either side of him. They were taller so he found himself crouching and stabbing for torsos or thighs. The others went for the heads. He stifled a sigh. He was tired and it didn’t look like anything was going to end soon. People were still talking, laughing, and drinking. He wanted to be merry like them but the more he listened to Kaliel’s stories, the more he thought of Avristar. He missed the island.

Pux closed his eyes. At least Krishani had seen her first. He didn’t want to take that away. There were so many things he wanted to tell Kaliel but he didn’t know how she would react. Krishani was so different the last time they spoke. Losing her was the one thing he couldn’t deal with.

Pux glanced at the door for the umpteenth time, looking for the Ferryman. He curled himself into a ball, his knees against his chest. He heard enough of Elwen’s ramblings to know what Krishani was doing out there.

The battle ended for everyone else, but it was just beginning for Krishani.

Pux didn’t want to tell Kaliel what Krishani was like after the mountain exploded. He didn’t want to talk about being the last person to see her, or what Mallorn said about Krishani being exiled.

Pux glanced up again. Mallorn. How would he tell Kaliel Mallorn was dead? He saw it out of the corner of his eye, and wasn’t fast enough to help him. Pux grimaced, Mallorn wasn’t known for being warm. Even when the Horsemen had sliced open his back, Mallorn showed no compassion. The moment he was out of the feverish sleep Mallorn suggested Pux work with the villagers instead of hiding. Pux alternated between the stables and the barn. He didn’t mind it, even though it was laborious and the villagers didn’t like games.

“What are you thinking about Pux?” Kaliel asked. Her voice sounded distant. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head. He sat and leaned against the stone beside her. She glanced at him and the resemblance was striking. She had an oval face and pale white skin. Her hair was a mass of long black curls that trickled to her waist. Her eyes shifted, more of a forest green than bright emerald green. Her lips were pale pink, chapped. She pressed them together and drew her eyebrows taut when his gaze hovered on them. He looked at her hands and tried to ignore her scrutinizing gaze. It was so hard to take in.

The first and last time he met Aulises she was cursing about her family, and fighting with one of the guards for a sword. She didn’t even want armor, she just wanted to go out there and stab things. That girl wasn’t anything like Kaliel, that girl was trying to get herself killed. And now that girl was dead, and Kaliel was in her place.

“You stopped talking,” Kaliel said.

“It’s just so hard to believe,” he muttered. “I mean you’re here, it’s really you.”

“And you’re really you.” She laughed, a smile stuck to her lips but there was something melancholy behind it. He glanced at the people milling about the hall and waited. She pressed her hands between her thighs. He pulled his knees up halfway and rested his hands on them. They sat in silence for a long time. There was a lot more to talk about, but it wasn’t time, not yet, not with everything in disarray.

Pux tensed as Grimand, clad in a gray cloak, strode through the hall, his head moving back and forth like an animal looking for a bone. Pux ducked his head to his knees to avoid being seen when Grimand stalked the floor towards him.

“Pux,” Grimand said, nearing the table of food. He glanced at it briefly, reaching for a piece of bread, but dismissed it. “Where have you been?”

“Here, all night,” Pux answered. It was true, he hadn’t moved.

Grimand nodded. “Good then. You didn’t fight did you?”

“Handele said I could.” His voice squeaked on the words. He glanced at Kaliel, but she was nodding off, her eyelids drooping closed, slack hands falling to her sides.

Grimand took a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. His face was hairier than Pux’s. Gray hairs grew amidst the bristles of brown and reddish hazel. “Everyone is leaving by dawn. I’ll be traveling back to Avristar with the wounded and able-bodied warriors.”

“Avristar,” Kaliel said, as though she had been listening the whole time.

Pux glanced at her and Grimand noticed her for the first time. He furrowed his brow like he didn’t know who she was, but when she opened her eyes they were full of traces of amethyst. “How did
she
get here?” Grimand asked, stunned.

Pux knew what he was thinking. They were only children, they didn’t know what they were doing. He fidgeted with the hem of his breeches. “I don’t know how it happened … but it’s Kaliel.”

Grimand flinched. He muttered something incomprehensible and shifted his weight, thumping his heavy wolf feet on the floor. “You need to get back to your lessons, Pux.”

Pux felt small. In the midst of everything happening he forgot about the Great Oak’s words. He wasn’t meant for greatness. He was supposed to be an eternal student. Learning and relearning lessons. For the first time in a long time hot anger streaked through him as he gritted his teeth. “I think I’m learning a lot of things here.”

Grimand scoffed. “If you want I can ask Lady Atara to give you a bore to look after in Evennses. Would that help?” His tone was chiding, but his stern face was full of resolve. “You’ll leave with us in the morning.”

“Is everyone going home then?” Kaliel asked, her voice full of concern.

“Not everyone. Handele is taking the elvens and gargoyles back to Arathia for training.”

“What about me and Krishani? Are we going with you?” Kaliel asked. Pux would recognize that tone anywhere. She sounded the same way she did before sobbing, distraught. She didn’t know what to think. He glanced past Grimand at the door but there was no sign of Krishani. If anyone could comfort her it was him. Grimand turned expressionless. An awkward silence hung between them until Kaliel pushed herself to her feet and crossed her arms, glowering at him.

“Krishani’s rightful place is Terra,” Grimand said.

“Oh.” Kaliel dropped her gaze.

“I’m sure Elwen will allow you to stay,” Grimand continued.

“I thought since you were going to Avristar … I could go back to my lessons,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably foot-to-foot.

Grimand took a deep breath. “You don’t have lessons. At least not on Avristar.”

Pux couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed his arms and gritted his teeth. “I’m not going.”

Grimand turned his attention back to his apprentice. “That’s not really your choice.”

Pux shrugged. “I want to stay with Kaliel. Elwen already told me I don’t have to leave.”

Grimand shook his head, exhausted, and glanced at the table of food. “The humans are greedy. This is your last opportunity to come home. After that I doubt Lord Istar will send me to bring you back. You’ll be here until you live out your mortal life.”

Pux recoiled like he had been slapped. “Mortal life? What do you mean?” He glanced at Kaliel who looked sick to her stomach.

“Feorns live about fifty mortal years, and they die, like everyone else. Be happy, humans only live thirty five years.”

“Elwen,” Pux stuttered, unable to hide the shock in his voice.

“Elwen has immortality.” He glanced at the crowds of people. “A form of it at least. He isn’t what I’m talking about.”

Pux felt lost. Nobody ever talked about dying on Avristar, it was something so rare it was unthinkable. The only time he ever saw death on Avristar was when the creatures came, and when he followed Krishani to Terra. He shuddered at the thought of the desecrated village. All he dreamed about since returning to Elwen’s compound was Avristar. He thought he could stifle the pain of losing Kaliel and eventually be numb. He’d live forever and make her proud. Instead, the girl he thought was gone forever stood beside him looking frail, confused and distrait. He couldn’t leave, not if she wasn’t coming with him.

Kaliel’s forest green eyes bore into his brown ones and he flinched. “Maybe you should go home.”

Pux shook his head furiously. “I think I need to stay.” Death, greedy humans, magic he couldn’t do anymore—it throbbed in the back of his mind, but he’d do anything for Kaliel.

Grimand let out an exhausted sigh. “Fine. Stay. I won’t ask again.” He turned and thumped across the floor, disappearing into the crowd.

The moment he was gone Pux slid on the floor. Kaliel caught him by the arm but she went down with him, pressing her head into his shoulder. “You have until morning to decide,” she whispered in his ear.

He put his fingers on her hand and shook his head. “You need me here.”

Kaliel wheezed, her chest rattling as she inhaled and pulled away. “I have Krishani.”

Pux didn’t say anything. He watched people talking and laughing, moving in and out of the hall. Kaliel had no idea how far Krishani had gone. After everything that had happened, Pux wasn’t sure if anything could be fixed.

* * *

3 - That Thief Girl

Shimma waited, listening to her heavy breaths, in and out. Hours passed and the rain slowed to a drizzle. She didn’t understand how she was alive. The Daed she fought against was blind, a pulsing emerald amulet around his neck. She recalled the silver locks and loose white shirt around his feeble chest, a short sword clutched in his left hand. He swiped at her and she jumped back, reaching for the amulet. Her fingers curled around something cold and she heard a snap as the clasp broke. A bright light exploded from the orb as she fell backwards, light as intense as lightning.

She woke up.

He didn’t.

Opening her eyes, she pushed his heavy body off her and glanced at his face. Chalk white, lips chapped, eyes fused open, glazed over white. She felt his cheek, ice cold. The Flame killed him, the little orb resting in the palm of her hand. She stared at it dumbfounded, wondering how—what was so powerful it could kill with a single blow. It suddenly felt heavy in her palm and she stood, stalking towards the castle. There weren’t many people on the battlefield. Centaurs huddled in a circle at the far right, cheering. Elvens and peasants tarried along the road, bringing in injured. They’d create a pyre for the dead later.

She kept her eyes on her shoes, her long blue dress splattered with dirt and grass stains. Tears escaped her eyes and she wiped her cheeks. She was used to fighting like this. They encountered so many battles on Nimphalls she was an expert but it didn’t stop her muscles from screaming in pain.

She crossed the grass and flowed in step with the others, cramming close to a feorn. The smell made her stomach roil, and she pushed further to the right. She hadn’t seen Kuruny or Kazza. While she was sure they could hold their own, she had a sick feeling over it. She neared the gates and someone grabbed her by the arm. She gasped and wrenched herself away from whomever it was, shooting a glare into the darkness.

Klavotesi moved out of the shadows, his face concealed by his cloak. Shimma felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t like him, withdrawn but all knowing. He refused to show his face and that made her unlikely to trust him. She took a step back as he moved closer, a jeweled puzzle box in his hands. “You have one of the Flames,” he said, his voice monotone.

Shimma glanced at her right hand, the orb clutched in her palm. The box opened and showed three others, Ruby, Quartz and Iolite. She drew her arm up and untangled the Emerald orb from the necklace, placing it gingerly beside the others. She didn’t want to possess the Flames, it was magic she couldn’t begin to comprehend. He snapped the box shut and she stormed off into the compound, away from his creepiness.

She glanced frantically between the torch lights, dodging people stopped on the street. She touched one of the peasants on the shoulder and they moved out of the way. Agitation swathed her, the longer it took to find them the worse she felt. Nausea pooled from her stomach outwards, making her limbs shake. She needed real sleep, and a bath.

She reached the stone steps, people strewn across them. Some were drunk. She took the stairs, moving into the hall and scouring. They weren’t there. She disappeared through the wings, her slippers padding softly down the corridor. Finding the room at the end of the hall, she pushed the door open carefully, hearing a hiss from inside.

“Take it out,” Kazza gasped, clutching her shoulder blade. Her white dress was covered in splotches of blood. She sat on the bed below the window, her long brown hair around her shoulders, falling across her waist. Her hazel eyes flared with anger. She had a hand on the arrow piercing her shoulder. The bladed tip stuck out of her back. Kuruny stood over her. She snapped off the feathered part of the arrow and glared at Shimma.

Shimma’s eyes widened, she never thought any of them would get hurt. “What happened?”

Kuruny rolled her eyes. “The feorns don’t know how to aim, their last string of arrows hit the sky when we were already out there.” She glanced at Kazza who had her head down, her other hand cinched around a bloodied cloth in her lap. Shimma moved to the bed and put her hands around the tip of the bloody arrow. She glanced at Kuruny. Her black eyes had that determined look in them.

“Ready?” Shimma asked. Kazza whimpered, and Shimma cringed. Their older sister had a high pain tolerance. It was unlike her to flinch. Shimma didn’t waste another second as Kuruny cleaned splinters off the broken edge. She grasped Kazza’s other shoulder to brace her for the blow. Kazza curled her hand into Kuruny’s and kept her head bowed.

Shimma was the healer among them. She had patched both of her sisters up too many times to count. Either after gruesome rituals requiring self mutilation or from enemies they attracted simply by being themselves. She wasn’t proud of the way it had been on Nimphalls once they realized the dragon riders and weapons builders wouldn’t compromise. They fell into the ranks of the dragon riders and learned their form of magic. It was thick and dark involving blood rituals, bindings and sacrifices. Shimma closed her eyes and gripped the tip of the arrow tighter and pulled as hard as she could. The arrow slid through skin, muscle and bone seamlessly. Kazza gave a cry and hunched forward, grabbing her shoulder. Shimma picked up the cloth in her lap and quickly pressed fabric to either side of the wound. She glanced at Kuruny. “You know what I need?” Kuruny didn’t argue, gracefully twisting towards the door. She disappeared down the hall.

“You’ll be okay,” Shimma whispered in her sister’s ear. Kazza held her body taut, refusing to move a muscle.

“I hate this place.” Kazza managed through laborious breaths.

“We can talk about where we’re going later,” Shimma soothed, pushing the cloth harder to the wound. Blood stained the cloth. It had already seeped through once and grown dark, now brighter spots of blood leaked into it and Shimma set her jaw.

“Can I lie down?” Kazza asked.

“No, you can’t fall asleep.”

They waited. Shimma noticed how quiet it was. A faint breeze blew through the window, ruffling candles on the end tables next to the bed. They were the only light in the darkness. “What happened to you?” Kazza asked, straining her neck to look at Shimma. Kazza had her beauty despite her age. Turnip shaped face, smooth cheekbones, dainty nose, and hazel brown eyes framed by long lashes. Her eyebrows were thick and right now they were pulled tight, her forehead wrinkled with worry.

“I killed one of the Daed, and rescued one of the Flames.”

Kazza smiled, her teeth tinged yellow. “Was it worth it?” She gritted and looked away, stifling another gasp.

Shimma frowned. “We won.”

“But you didn’t win him.” Kazza chortled softly.

Shimma gulped and let the pressure off the shoulder slightly. “That’s not why I fought.”

“You were hoping it would, and it didn’t.”

Shimma let the cloth go, stepping away from her sister. “Why are you doing this to me?” Her voice shrill. She felt so weak. Whatever it was with Krishani, it didn’t need to be called into question. She knew he would never love her.

“I thought you should know he was kissing that thief girl on the battlefield.”

Shimma sunk to the floor. She caught the side of the bed and banged her arm hard on the way down. She cradled it to her side and waited for the shocks to wear down. “He was kissing Aulises?”

Kazza chuckled. “See? You were hoping.”

“Shut up!” Shimma snapped. “Is that really what happened?”

Kazza’s eyes went dark. “That’s what I saw.”

Shimma slumped. She only had a moment to process before Kuruny burst through the door carrying a box of supplies. She tossed them on the bed and glanced at the two of them. Shimma got up slowly and wiped her cheeks with her apron.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she moved towards Kazza and resisted the urge to slap her. She gingerly unbuttoned the white dress and shrugged it down from the shoulder. Kuruny wordlessly sat on the other cot drumming her fingers on the ledge. Shimma picked through the box and found iodine, needle and thread.

“Sit still,” she commanded as she poured iodine onto a clean cloth and pressed it into the wound. Kazza let out a groan as the iodine burned her skin. She lapped up the blood on the outskirts, making sure she could see the gaping hole clearly. She paused and glanced at Kuruny who was fidgeting neurotically.

“What’s wrong?”

Kuruny looked up. “Huh?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I heard something interesting when I was out there.”

“And?”

“Kaliel has returned.”

Shimma didn’t know how to feel. Part of her was overjoyed, knowing it was the one thing Krishani wanted, but another part of her was worried. How would she handle him? She turned her attention back to the needle and pricked the skin, pulling the thread through. “That’s impossible.”

Kuruny sighed. “I don’t know what you know about Flames, but it is possible, technically. How it happened seems impossible.”

Shimma shot her a tempered look. “That’s what I meant.” But she recalled the golden box with the rest of the Flames and she did a double take. Maybe Kaliel had been in the box.

“Ow, you’re digging too deep,” Kazza complained, shrugging away from her grip.

Shimma shook away her stupor and pulled more gently with the needle. “Sorry.” She needed to get her mind off Krishani. The last time she saw him he had dark circles under his eyes and a cold pallor that would turn anyone to ice. Melting that kind of pain wasn’t easy, and it wouldn’t happen automatically. She glanced at Kuruny. “You recovered from the curse.” She said it to change the subject, but she didn’t expect the glare.

“I’m fine now.”

“Does that mean you’re going back?”

Kazza coughed and shot Shimma a reproachful look. Shimma paused and inspected the wound, a fresh line of stitching through it. She sliced the thin thread with a dagger and wiped the needle on the cloth. “You want to stay behind don’t you?” Kazza sneered.

Shimma ignored her comment and moved to the other side, crouching in front of her sister. She threaded the first loop and sighed. “I don’t think all the danger is going to evaporate. One enemy is gone, there are others you know.”

“You really want us to stay behind and help him? Help them? After what happened on Avristar?” Kuruny countered. Shimma would have glanced at her but she was too busy with the wound. Her fingernails were caked with blood and she desperately wanted to change out of her clothes. She stifled the urge to recoil from her own smell and narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not going back to Avristar,” she said.

“And the reason for that is Krishani. Honestly, what do you see in that boy?” Kuruny continued.

“He isn’t what you think,” Shimma said.

Kazza scoffed. “Murderous and vengeful? You forget … we saw the same thing on the beach. He killed Rand, and he did it in cold blood.”

“And he ruined Avristar which used to be a refuge,” Kuruny added.

“He had his reasons,” Shimma defended. She knew very well what Krishani was capable of. She was the only one there when he almost killed Aulises for touching him. He had honor and loyalty. He found the Flames, he killed Crestaos. She thought about saying all of that but her sisters no longer saw things the way she did.

“We’ll go back to Nimphalls, reason with the dragon riders. If they can see our honest intentions they’ll allow us to stay. We won’t look to reunite the sides any longer, and we won’t be traitors,” Kazza interjected.

Shimma’s heart dropped. Kazza was the oldest and technically had authority on where they went, but this was different. She couldn’t leave and let more bad things happen. With all her skills, she could be helpful to both the people and to Krishani. She knew she’d never pry him away from Kaliel but that wasn’t the point. She was determined to be a good friend, no matter what she felt for him.

“I agree,” Kuruny said.

Shimma finished with the last stitch and wound the thread in a small knot. She sliced through the thread and began wiping the blade down. She needed more time and arguing with them wasn’t going to help. “You can’t leave until that heals.”

Kazza glanced at her shoulder. “Fine, now can you ask the servants to bring me something to wear so I can get out of these bloody clothes?”

Shimma smirked as she left. It was a small victory, but anything that allowed her to stay was a good thing. “Sure,” she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She glanced back at her sister. “You can lie down now.” She let the door shut behind her as she fled down the corridor.

* * *

BOOK: Vulture
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