Thornton
Thornton had the distinct feeling of familiarity as he woke to Yasha looking over him. She pulled her lips into a tight smile when he opened his eyes.
“I hope you got that out of your system,” Yasha said softly, “because we have some traveling to do. There will be plenty of time for you to work it all out.”
Thornton rubbed his temples as he sat up in the plush, expansive bed. He looked around the room—warmer and more vibrant than Sh’thanna’s throne room, with rich wooden dressers and thick throw rugs accenting the floors—and some thoughts made their way into his head.
Dailus.
His father.
He grabbed handfuls of the silken bedsheets and squeezed as he felt the rage start bubbling up.
“Don’t,” Yasha said as she swatted his hand.
“Ow!” Thornton sucked air through his teeth as he pulled his hand back and shook it out. “What was that for?”
“You lost control down there,” she answered quietly, taking a seat on the bed beside him. “Look . . . I know you’ve had a lot to digest over the last few days, but we really need to talk about what you are.”
She paused, adding, “And what you’re capable of.”
Thornton looked at her blankly. Her red hair was loose around her shoulders, and the muted gray of her face made her green eyes stand out. They looked sharp and wild—just like her.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Lost control?” He suddenly realized there was a blank spot in his memory, like someone had reached in and scooped it out; he didn’t enjoy the feeling at all.
Yasha took a breath, apparently thinking. Before she could answer, though, Kethras spoke up. As usual, Thornton hadn’t heard the Kienari come in.
“You nearly brought the prison down around us,” Kethras answered through predatory teeth, “and Dailus.”
The name was a whip crack to his skin, and Thornton winced at its mention.
“Don’t say his name,” he said through his teeth. “He doesn’t deserve to live for what he’s done. For what he’s caused.”
Kethras and Yasha traded uncomfortable glances as Thornton’s words hung in the air.
Thornton narrowed his eyes as he looked at both of them. “What?” he asked flatly.
“You’re not going to like this next part.” Yasha grimaced.
“It doesn’t matter if he likes it,” came a voice from outside the room. Alysana, the G’henni woman who had accompanied Dailus thus far, stepped into the room. “It is necessary.”
Her raven-black hair was pulled back in braids. Coupled with the soft leather armor she wore over a form-fitting dress, which had clearly seen a few battles, it made her look very much the part of a soldier. Her black leather boots came up just below her knees, with a dagger sheath in each. A long slit down the side of her dress allowed for ease of movement, and she slid across the floor with the grace of a dancer despite her battle regalia.
She was a far cry from the young barmaid he had met in Annoch, that much was certain. And just like that day back in Wern’s tavern, Thornton found himself staring. A sharp nudge from Yasha pulled him back into the moment. He looked at her and then back to Alysana.
“For once,” he said with agitation, “I’d like to stop waking up to surprises. Could someone tell me what’s going on?”
“We’re traveling to Do’baradai,” Kethras answered. “With Alysana and Dailus, to awaken the Three. We may have found a way to bring back Miera . . . and your father.”
***
Thornton was standing beside the bed now, and his hands were trembling. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times, and his brown eyes flashed with contempt.
“No,” he scowled. “Not a chance. Out of the question.”
“It wasn’t a request,” Alysana said as she crossed her arms. She shifted her hips slightly, and the short sword hanging from her belt caught Thornton’s eye. “You have as much say in it as the half-eye does.”
Thornton clenched his jaw as he started to see the G’henni woman for what she was: no longer a serving girl living in the shadow of her sister, Mordha, but a servant of the Shaper instead—and, by proxy, a servant of Sh’thanna. It was becoming clear to Thornton that the High Keeper had orchestrated this whole thing, from having Dailus sent over with Alysana to having them run into each other right before his “sentencing.”
He had started to wonder how much more she was hiding behind the curtain, when Kethras stepped forward.
“I have spoken at length with Alysana and the High Keeper, and I agree,” the Kienari said. “Dailus must accompany us to Do’baradai. He seems to know more than he is letting on, which means he must be watched closely, but also means that whatever he knows will most likely be the key to our success.”
Kethras dwarfed the tall G’henni who stood next to him, and his fine, dark fur made even her pitch-black braids seem more bluish. “And besides,” he went on, “I will be there to ensure he does not try anything that will get him killed . . . early.”
Kethras’s empty black eyes, like discarded coals, sent a chill down Thornton’s spine. He was constantly grateful that the Kienari was on his side.
“He knows something we don’t,” Yasha said, “and refuses to tell us what. This is the only way to get it out of him.”
Thornton started to pace around the well-furnished room. In keeping with the motif of the temple, the walls were a rich blue that almost seemed to glow and reminded him of how his hammer had reacted when it came in contact with the Anvil of the Worldforge in Annoch. A tinge of panic leapt through him as he realized his hammer wasn’t right by his side, though the feeling immediately subsided when he saw it by the foot of his bed. Even at that distance, it seemed to instill a calming effect on him that he knew was deeper than any simple boyhood connection to a family heirloom. He walked over to it and gripped its age-worn handle, picking it up and examining it as he would the edge of a fire-forged sword. He looked deep into the intricate figures carved upon it, knowing now that they had been set there during creation itself by the Shaper, and he steeled himself.
“Fine,” he relented. “Since it’s clear I have no choice here, we might as well see what else we can get out of him.” He placed the hammer back on the floor, resting the head on the ground and leaving it standing upright. “When do we leave?”
The others in the room seemed surprised by his reaction, as if they’d been sure he would’ve put up more of a fight. He thought he saw Kethras hiding some rope behind his back and peered at him suspiciously.
Alysana cleared her throat and looked at the others. “Whenever you are ready,” she replied.
“As soon as possible,” Thornton said firmly.
“Very well,” Alysana said. “I will inform the High Keeper.”
And with those words, the other three turned to leave.
“Just one question,” Thornton said.
They all turned to look back at him.
“Where exactly is Do’baradai?”