Authors: Kylie Griffin
“The
Na’Chi
don’t enslave humans.”
Veren snorted. “So, that half-blood whore of Kalan’s didn’t drink his blood?”
Frustration burned through Kymora’s veins at the accusation. Annika’s feeding from Kalan had saved her life after being stabbed by Davyn, his plot to prove she was the animal he assumed her to be thwarted. Despite trying to keep that incident low-key, neither Kalan nor the Blade Council had been able to stop gossip. Bless the
Lady
only a select few knew how the
Na’Chi
suffered the blood-addiction rather than the usual enslavement of human to demon. She inhaled a calming breath.
“The messages you sent out to every town and village… Is it true all Light Blades have demon blood in them?” Faral’s question held such confusion and uncertainty. His emotions were so tangible his aura throbbed.
“The history annals of
Chosen
Zataan revealed that truth. Copies were sent with the messages. Didn’t you read them for yourself?”
“Lies! The messages held lies!” Scorn and derision laced Bennic’s deep voice. “If Light Blades or those with Gifts are supposed to be of demon-get, then where are the body markings on our skin? Why don’t we crave blood?”
Kymora shivered, the stark confirmation of their Light Blade identity established with his words. She turned toward him. “Master Healer Candra believes the traits have weakened over time, or that some never inherited them.”
“Dominant traits and inherited features? Passed on through bloodlines? You make us sound like livestock,” he hissed. “Our Gifts are
Lady
-given and have nothing to do with demon blood!”
“Then how do you account for Annika being able to heal and kill with a touch?” she argued. “Sensing human emotions, connecting with animals, manipulating energies… the
Na’Chi
all possess skills as varied and as similar to our own Gifted.” Their auras swirled and contorted with dark tendrils of hostility and resistance. “How can you ignore the
Lady’s
words? She’s accepted them as
Her
children as much as you or I.”
“Veren? You told us Kalan made up that lie, that the
Lady
would never utter such blasphemous words. You said Davyn declared the
Na’Chi
were as dangerous to us as the
Na’Reish
and had to be killed so our people would no longer be divided… so the Blade Council could focus on the
Na’Reish
threat across the border.” Faral’s bewilderment held a hint of anger. “What’s the truth?”
Kymora’s heart pounded on hearing the lies told to Faral. How many other Light Blades had been led astray by Davyn’s deception?
“What does your heart tell you?” she countered. “Think of your families, your homes. The Council will place sanctions on anyone who supports you because of what’s happened here today, but I can speak on your behalf if someone has misled you.”
“Don’t listen to her.” Bennic’s voice deepened further with his reprimand. “She’s trying to divide us.”
“The truth, Faral, is that the
Na’Chi
will turn on us. No alliance will hide their true nature. They’re just like the
Na’Reish
,” Veren stated. His rasping laughter sent a shiver along her back. “As for the Council placing sanctions on us, you need to bear witness, and that’s not going to happen, priestess.”
Despite the heat of the sun beating down on her, coldness spread throughout Kymora. Dear
Lady
, was he going to kill her? Would the others stand by and watch? Slowly she repositioned her feet to widen her stance and brought her staff across her body in a relaxed but ready position.
“Do you really think you can fight us off?” Ugly laughter mocked her again. “You’re blind,
Temple Elect
.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. Five was the best she’d ever managed to defend herself against, and then only for a short time. Her breathing quickened. Why hadn’t she listened to Lisella and accepted her help?
She kept her voice firm and steady. “If you know I can fight, then you know it means I’m not helpless.”
“It’s nine against one. Even sighted you’d be hard-pressed to prevail against us.”
Kymora swallowed hard and drew on every shred of strength she possessed, determined to face the impossible.
Lady
willing, she would survive. She had to. The Blade Council needed to know of the threat to the
Na’Chi
.
“Veren, no….”
“If you can’t stomach this, Faral, then leave.” Her attacker stepped closer. She sensed others closing in on her. “Let those loyal to the cause deal with this.”
Goose bumps prickled over Kymora. The cause? Davyn’s cause? The ex-Councilor’s influence was a greater threat than the Blade Council had anticipated. Veren’s use of the term
cause
suggested more than the few gathered around her. How many others were there committed to seeing the
Na’Chi
dead and the alliance fail?
“
Lady
protect
Your
servant,” she murmured.
If Veren believed her blindness made her an easy target, he’d soon discover just how thorough her training with the Temple guards had been, and how very wrong his assumption was.
They all would.
F
EAR reeked of a pungent bitterness that lingered in the nostrils, but Varian wasn’t able to detect even a whiff of it on the gentle breeze. He did, however, catch the sharp spicy scent of anticipation. His opponent lay somewhere ahead, concealed, waiting, hoping to ambush him. Well, he was one
Na’Chi
who wouldn’t be walking into a trap.
“Where are you hiding?” he murmured.
With eyes narrowed, he scanned the sunlight-dappled clearing ahead. A large fallen tree lay partway across it, years of rot and weathering scarring its gnarled length. An animal trail paralleled the downed tree but the debris along its path was undisturbed, the moss coating its bark intact. He hadn’t expected to see any telltale marks or tracks; the warrior was cunning and unpredictable, more so with the pressure of being hunted by half a dozen
Na’Chi
.
“You’re here somewhere.” In the thicker forest to Varian’s left, a patch of darkness flickered. Adrenaline rushed through his veins.
There, in the deeper shadows, he could make out the semiprone form of a body. He bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Found you.”
Remaining crouched behind the rocky outcrop, Varian glanced to his right. Pressed up against the side of another tree, a young scout with dark hair twisted into multiple braids and dressed in brown was barely visible. Violet eyes, very much like his, locked on him. Varian pointed in the direction of the hidden intruder, then swirled one finger in the air.
The scout nodded sharply, slid to the ground, and crawled away using the dense brush to his advantage. Zaune would circle around the clearing and either force their opponent into moving from his position or flush him out into the clearing.
Capturing the human was preferable, but Varian doubted this one would go down without a fight. With three other warriors already tracked and taken, he was the last one to be run to ground.
It wasn’t often he met someone with a skill similar to his scouts, but this one had learned fast and led them on a merry chase all over the mountainside all afternoon. His grin widened in grudging respect for the warrior’s abilities.
A trilling war cry broke the quiet of the forest. Varian heard a muffled curse, then the impact of a body hitting another. From the shadowed thicket to his left, two tangled forms rolled into the clearing, each grappling with the other, trying to get the upper hand. Fists struck flesh in dull thuds, in rapid succession, accompanied by painful grunts.
Chunks of dirt flew from beneath their flailing limbs as the two scuffled for position. The dark blond warrior ended up on top, pinning the leaner Zaune to the forest floor with his greater weight.
Varian sensed the rapid buildup of energy within the human warrior, the familiar hum of it grazing his senses. The Light Blade possessed the kinetic power to kill through any weapon or even the touch
of a bare hand, the skill a Gift from the
Lady
and a counterbalance to the
Na’Reish’s
immense physical strength.
Moving swiftly, Varian stepped out from behind the rocky outcrop and came up behind the pair. The older man blocked and deflected Zaune’s desperate strike and placed a hand on his chest. Triumph flashed across his face.
“You’re dead!” he hissed, then the warrior flung himself to one side, almost as if he sensed Varian’s presence, and rolled to his feet in a defensive half crouch. “I knew there had to be more than one of you,” he panted, chest heaving, his deep blue-eyed gaze never leaving him as Varian circled left around the clearing.
Sweat shone on the warrior’s begrimed face and soaked his torn shirt, and some of his long blond hair had pulled free of the tie at his neck during the scuffling.
“That’s four of your scouts I’ve bested today,
Na’Chi
,” he taunted. The precise way he mirrored Varian’s every step contradicted his disheveled appearance of exhaustion. There was plenty of fight left in him yet.
“And you think to add me to that tally?” Varian asked. The warrior wasn’t armed, but even without a blade, he could kill with his Gift. “You can try.”
Varian leapt and caught the man around the knees and took him to the ground again. A well-placed elbow impacted his ribcage, startled a grunt out of him, and loosened his hold enough for his opponent to twist. Varian blocked a blow meant for his head. Half a heartbeat later two more scouts joined the fray.
“Contain him, don’t kill him!” he ordered.
A curse ripped from the human. He fought hard, twisting and bucking. It took all three of them to flip him onto his stomach and pin him to the ground.
“Concede?” Varian gripped the warrior’s wrists against the small of his back, straddling his full weight across the man’s legs to stop him kicking.
Another heated expletive singed the air. “
Lady’s Breath
, I should’ve known you’d have more than one partner hidden around the clearing.” Beneath them, the warrior finally stilled. “A mistake I won’t make again. I concede, this time.” Self-disgust laced his tone.
Varian met his scouts’ gazes and gave a nod. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Arek.” They released the man and moved back from him. “Your skills have improved in the few months you’ve been training with us.”
The Light Blade warrior rolled onto his back, his lips curving in a twisted half smile. “A compliment? From you?”
“He’s been known to give them.” Zaune scrambled to his feet, no longer “dead,” and dusted off his breeches. “He’s a hard taskmaster but fair. So consider yourself one of the privileged few.”
Varian shot Zaune a dry look as he held out his hand to Arek. The man took it, accepting his help to rise. “So, how many others wait out there, eh?”
Varian whistled. The remaining scouts revealed themselves.
“Two more? You had ten scouts searching for me? Just like a full
Na’Reish
patrol?”
“You were ready for this test.” Varian clapped him on the shoulder. “But we’re going to have to work on you concealing your scent. The
Na’Reish
will detect it as easily as we did.”
“
Mother of Mercy
, you
Na’Chi
and your enhanced senses.” Arek shook his head. “They give you the advantage.”
“And your Gift of using energy to kill with a touch? I think that balances the odds, Light Blade.”
“So, will you teach me how to mask my scent now?”
“Not today. We’ve trained hard, and knowing Lisella, she’ll have organized a farewell meal for those returning to Sacred Lake tomorrow—”
“
Lady
help us if we’re late for that,” Zaune commented, his eyes sparkling despite his somber tone.
Arek snorted. “Indeed. I don’t know whose tongue is sharper when displeased, hers or Kymora’s.”
An unbidden smile curved the corners of Varian’s mouth at Arek’s description of the two women. Growing up together, many of the scouts around him had been on the wrong side of Lisella countless times, and the human priestess might be blind, but she rarely missed a thing, her hearing as keen as a
Na’Chi’s
. Both possessed warm hearts, but when their tempers sparked they were a sight to see.
“Varian!”
The distressed cry had him pivoting on his boot heel. Pounding footsteps running through the forest grew closer. A young
Na’Chi
boy, his cheeks ruddy with exertion, burst into the clearing. Varian caught him as he stumbled to a halt.
“Giron, what’s wrong?”
The boy’s wide-eyed gaze met his, their violet color flecked with bright yellow. “The village—” he gasped, his fingers biting into Varian’s forearms. “Intruders… fire!”
“An assault?” Uneasiness skittered along the length of his back.
“Evie said someone killed the bleaters… and there’s smoke….”
Fury, colder than a knife blade, ripped through Varian at the thought of his people under attack. The imprisonment of Councilor Davyn, Corvas, and Yance after their betrayal of the High Council had sparked as much unrest as the
Na’Chi’s
appearance in human territory. Despite the new Blade Council’s support, he’d wondered how long it’d take the dissenters to gather the courage to go from verbal protests to attacking them.
Varian gently pushed the boy toward the scout. “Zaune, stay with Giron until he recovers, then head for the caverns. The others will seek shelter there.”
The
Na’Chi
had the skills to evade detection, but the humans living with them weren’t as savvy. Lisella would organize and guide
them there, but the children and Kymora would slow them down. His skin prickled at the thought. Whether they escaped detection depended on how much of a head start they received.
As much as he respected and admired Kymora’s self-taught independence, her disability would impede her. Fleeing into the foothills, while attempting to elude pursuers, would be next to impossible. She’d never make it to the safety of the caverns.
A hard knot formed in his stomach. No amount of confidence in her skills could unravel it. He met Arek’s gaze, and the furious concern swirling within their blue depths told him the Light Blade was thinking the same thoughts. Varian blew out a sharp breath.