The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (15 page)

"Thorgis?"

No answer came. Instead, Syrus heard his pursuers. Their voices echoed down the long shaft he had just fallen through. A light seemed to be growing brighter in the shaft, until a torch spun out of it and splashed into the water. The flames hissed out and in the flash of light, Syrus glimpsed Thorgis seated across from him, knees tucked to his chest and staring up at the shaft.

"Fools," called a voice from above. "If you survived the fall, it has earned you nothing. There is no way out."

Laughter echoed down to them. He heard the voices murmuring above, then those echoes faded as well.

Syrus sat in the darkness, cold wet sapping his strength and his will. Not death by drowning, he thought, but by starvation. I have truly failed.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kafara soared above Norddalr as a gray mountain eagle. Wind slid through her feathers like cold fingers, buoying her on the currents flowing just beneath the clouds. Turo flapped his wings to gain on her, then glided in tandem. She gave a scream of joy that cut through the wind roaring past her. Their black-tipped wing feathers were separated only by a tiny margin as they circled the island. The wreckage of the battles fought here only a year ago still littered the surroundings. She saw the bones of sunken ships or shattered piers in the shallow green waters. She had sent most of those vessels to the bottom. It had been a pity, but nothing less would have ended that war. The stone fortress of Norddalr lay tucked into its mountain fastness, now a gray smudge against the dark sky. Even without having ever entered Norddalr, she recognized the similarities of location and architectural style to the fortresses of Vanikka and Raffheim. All were constructed of stone in mountain fastness, their main buildings hid behind layers of walls. Impractically tall towers stretched out of the buildings, like fingers desperate to reach the sun. That was the truest mark of the First People's hands. They had believed they could reach the gods in their high heavens if only they could build high enough. Fools.

Her mind reached out to Turo's. Keep a sharp eye for Lethos. There are no boats moored on the shore.

Maybe he has not arrived yet, Turo answered, his voice a warm vibration in her mind.

Kafara swept lower, doubting Turo was correct. They had first landed in Greenvik, shocked to discover both the raid and Grimwold's fate. Even though Myrakka had claimed Grimwold's death, Kafara had nursed a small hope of a mistake. Such was not the case. She and Turo had pried on the situation in Greenvik, disguised as house wrens, and learned in short order of Lethos's plans and his luck in finding a crew for his stolen raiding ship. He seemed to always take the right steps, even if not consciously aware. When paired with Grimwold, the two would become truly formidable once they understood all of their power.

Sailing over the ruins of old Norddalr, now nothing more than shattered wood in a giant pit, she searched for any sign of Lethos's passing. Even her keen sight revealed nothing, and from Turo's silence as he glided beside her she knew he also had a fruitless search.

Should we head directly to the High King or search the rest of the island? Turo asked.

Let us visit Grimwold's friend, Syrus. I think Lethos would see him before the High King.

They banked toward the outcrop of rock overlooking the sea where a squat new building of wood huddled against the stormy sky. The black clouds worried Kafara. Myrakka and Kelata both could travel by storm with speeds to rival hers and Turo's. Not all Dyads had such means of quick travel, but the Dyad of storms had perfected their art and could outstrip any of the Manifested. If they had truly come to finish Grimwold, Kafara's only hope lay in their not knowing where he might be. Myrakka often overstated what she learned from her so-called storm spirits. Kafara suspected her means of information-gathering were far more mundane.

Alighting on the ground with a flutter of wings, Kafara and Turo both transformed into their original human forms, naked against the biting wind on this outcrop. She drew power from Turo, enough to keep her warm as she approached the closed door. The wooden shrine to Fieyar was not much from the outside. It was a plain wood building built after the Valahurian style. She could not sense any divine presence in it. That was unsurprising, given she had not felt the gods anywhere in centuries.

"The building is empty. The whole island is gone but for the villagers on the northeast coast."

Even expecting it, Kafara still startled at the smooth, confident voice addressing her. The woman who spoke emerged from the opposite side of the shrine. Myrakka held her cloak of silver wolf fur tight at her neck with a delicate, white hand. Her cruel mouth was bent in a wry smile that did not reach her ice blue eyes. Following her, Kelata kept one strong hand on the hilt of his sword as his leather armor creaked with his movement. His thick black eyebrows were bent in a V of anger. Kafara felt Turo's anger as a hot flare in her stomach.

"The work of the Tsal," Kafara said.

"You are fools to think the pact carries meaning any longer," Turo added. Kelata's hand gripped the hilt of his sword, but Myrakka covered it with her own hand.

"The white ark is here." Myrakka's blue eyes shifted coolly past Kafara to a point in the distance. "The First People have come to reclaim their lands."

Following Myrakka's gaze, she looked toward the fortress of Norddalr. She had not noticed before, but the gates of the curtain wall were demolished and a path lay open to the main fortress. She touched her chest in surprise, her hands going cold despite the power she burned to warm herself.

"How was it done?" she asked. "Did you stand idly by while the Tsal tore down the gates and killed those within?"

"I did not witness it, but the winds know everything," Myrakka said with a sigh that hinted at weariness. "These Tsal bring their own wild stone upon that ark. A rock so large we Manifested would burn up if they unshielded it. They powered storm magic to tear away those walls. How ironic that they should have to break down what they had built to withstand the ages."

"Is that more poetic insight from the wind?" Turo asked. "Or have you already visited their ark and determined it yourself?"

Myrakka's smile was as cold as her eyes, and Kelata's angry brow furrowed deeper. He narrowed his eyes at Turo as he spoke.

"Who revived you? They will share in your punishment."

"Ask the wind about it." Turo stepped closer to Kelata. "As for punishments, well, we shall see about that."

Kafara put her hand on Turo's shoulder, his flesh growing hotter as he prepared a transformation. Kelata's frown melted into a smirk but let his hand fall from his sword. An uninitiated eye would think Kelata backed down, but he killed with the power of storms and not iron.

"We will ask the wind," Myrakka said. A strong gust lifted her black hair as if to emphasize her point. "And we will ensure the balance is maintained and the pact preserved. You and your lover act from emotions you should have long forgotten. What is love worth to the people of this age? Why defend them? Why care for their fate? We are Manifested, chosen to receive all the gifts of magic the gods have deemed to provide. We endure forever. We were here before this age and will remain long after it is yet another forgotten epoch. You should sleep through this time, and awaken to a new world where the cares of this one are long done. Why court the censure of the gods for a time that will be as fleeting as bubbles in a stream?"

"You speak of immortality," Kafara said. Her eyes shifted to the stone knife at her waist peeking from beneath the silver wolf fur cloak. "Yet you are ever prepared to send any one of us into death. It is not only your age that brings you the obedience of the other Dyads. It is that knife of birth stone and your willingness to use it."

Myrakka's smile finally reached her eyes. She inclined her head slightly. "I would never use it lightly, sister."

"The days of fearing you are long past," Turo said. "Your flesh might not have sagged with age, but your wits certainly have. A white ark with enough wild stone to fry our kind to dust is anchored on the other side of these mountains. Why obey you when the Tsal would just as soon as destroy us? They hate us as much as anything else, maybe more. The Tsal must be stopped."

"The gods have given that task to the Order of Phyros," Kelata said. "That is no concern of yours. Now enough babble. You two return to Vanikka and await us. You have merely to trust our judgment and step aside. Tell those who believe as you do that they must trust to our ancient pact or we all will face the scourge of the gods."

"Gods that have turned their faces from us." Turo's words echoed off the rock outcropping. Kelata winced as if he had smelled rotted fish.

For an instant Kafara believed their encounter would not turn to violence. Myrakka's expression softened, and Kelata, though disgusted, seemed to fade back from them. While they had not always seen eye to eye over the centuries, they had never resorted to open conflict to settle differences. Yet the salty taste of the pitea berry antidote was still fresh in her mouth.

"I am sorry you cannot see reason," Myrakka said. "Our kin cannot be put at risk for your unfounded beliefs."

A brilliant flash of light and a crack of thunder exploded all around Kafara. Had she not sensed the ripple in power from Myrakka, she would have still been standing where the lightning bolt had struck. With an equally swift burst of power, she had become a mere gnat. Such dramatic transitions of mass consumed a lot of power, but Turo knew how to conserve it well. He shifted into his great cat form and lunged at Kelata.

Kelata fell back with Turo draped over him, his back claws reaching up to rake Kelata's stomach. The Manifested feared little in the world. Normal weapons or natural dangers could not kill them. Their largest threats were always the magic they employed against each other. Turo's claws would rip up Kelata in short order. His leather armor would avail him nothing.

As a gnat, Kafara floated around Myrakka's head. The small form was hard to control, and its alien senses were less familiar to Kafara than her preferred forms. However, she had achieved near invisibility from Myrakka, whose pretty smile had turned to a wicked frown.

"You think to play games outside?" she said. "You forget what I can command."

Kafara had not forgotten. Myrakka threw her arms wide to the skies and the clouds thickened and blackened as if they were gathering into her arms. The wind began to strengthen, buffeting Kafara toward the ground. Each gust was like a hammer on her tiny form. She landed on Myrakka's head.

Lightning flashed in the clouds. Kafara had an instant to settle this fight. Kelata had thrown Turo aside, though his power flowed to fuel Myrakka more than to fight Turo. As for himself, Turo's transformation stole more power from Kafara than she would have liked. But her plan was simpler.

Winds rushed along the ground, lifting all of them into the air. Turo stumbled on his four paws as he left the ground, but both Myrakka and Kelata rose with the wind as easily as if they stood on solid ground.

"You must return to Vanikka one way or the other," Myrakka said over the roar of the wind.

Kafara, clinging to Myrakka's black hair, pulled strength from Turo and transformed.

A flash of heat and a pop of bone announced her transformation into a giant eagle. With a screech, her talons closed around Myrakka's head. She could have crushed her head in those talons, but not easily, and she was not ready to commit to what Myrakka's death would mean. Screaming with fury, Myrakka grabbed her talons and pulled. Her incredible strength was evenly matched. Kafara shot into the air with Myrakka struggling to free herself from the talons.

Shooting off the cliff, she plunged toward the ocean. Power rippled everywhere around her. Normal magical radiance felt like a warm pulse or a gentle breeze, but now it was as turbulent as the waters below. Myrakka shrieked her anger and lightning struck again.

But Kafara had dropped Myrakka and again transformed into a gnat. The blinding flash and raw scent of the lightning strike dazzled her a moment, but Kafara did not wait to recover. She had no time.

In midair, she transformed into a blue shark. She immediately felt the sting of air on her gills and her vision became blurred as she plummeted the final distance to the water. Yet she could smell Myrakka's anger just below her. She opened her jaws and caught Myrakka as she plunged into the cold water. Now beneath the waves, Myrakka's powers were nullified. Her command of storms and the winds did not extend to the sea.

The rapid transformations had tired her, and no doubt Turo was weary as well. She sensed him nearby, and knew that he too was now beneath the waves with her. With Myrakka pinned between her massive teeth, she could hold her underwater until she passed out from lack of air. She would not drown, but be forced into a sleeplike state until revived again. Kelata might pursue them, but underwater he was as useless as Myrakka.

Myrakka pummeled Kafara's snout as she sped through the water, speeding deeper into the ocean. Despite Myrakka's great strength, the water still slowed her blows to nothing of significance. Kafara's shark senses revealed an ethereal world teeming with life of every kind. Other sharks lurked in the green haze, but avoided the unnatural predator in their midst.

Turo, are you hurt? She reached out with her mind.

I am behind you. Kelata did not follow me into the water. He is nothing without his storms.

Myrakka's shrieks were muffled, bubbling noises in the deep. Kafara felt a hand probing around her eye, patting as if trying to find it. She was surprised Myrakka had not yet passed out, and thrashed her head to speed the process. Myrakka swished wildly, and the sweet scent of blood bloomed in the water. Kafara had not intended to cut her flesh, but even the toughness of the eldest Manifested could not resist her shark's teeth.