Chapter Seven

 

 

 

Dodi’s unearthly screech sliced through the air. Brianna grabbed his shoulders and held him against her. He struggled, making high-pitched grunting noises as he fought her embrace.

The Nixet king smirked—the pearl in one hand, Tulia in the other.

Rage slashed at Brianna. She ignored its unleashed heat, concentrating on her internal heat—white-hot and controlled. Letting it build, she focused her stare on the Nixet king, her stance rigid. Her hand began to tremble. Slowly she lifted her arm, extended out straight in front of her, tight and inflexible all the way to her fingertips. With mechanical precision she bent her wrist up until her palm was at a right angle to her arm. The power throbbed along her arm, forming a pulsing mass in her hand. Breathing deeply, she tried to distill the magic from her mortal anger, consciously trying to direct it, harness it.

She jutted her chin out in a defiant gesture. “Release Tulia, and let us go.” Her voice was a steady monotone.

The Nixet king grinned at her. “Or what, little girl?”

Brianna could feel the power gathering, and was petrified that she would not be able to hold back much longer. “I’m warning you, Nixet king, let her go or you’ll be sorry.”

Amon frowned at her, a sharp fracture of real anxiety in his eyes, but he made no attempt to stop her—whether out of fear or acceptance of what must be done, Brianna didn’t know. In a vague corner of her mind she sensed that this would be a turning point in her relationship with Amon.

The Nixets were now spread out in a menacing circle, almost surrounding them. Still Brianna stood, arm outstretched, stiff and throbbing.

The king frowned now. He looked from the pearl to Tulia then back at Brianna. The frown melted into a sneer. “You don’t scare me, little girl. You’re bluffing.”

The mortal rage twisted around the magic power, tightening her control. Her palm burned. She glared at the Nixet king. She eased her control on the power inside her the minutest fraction. A flash of white light shot from her hand. It hit the Nixet king in the chest. He reeled backward, made a grotesque expression of agony and slumped to the ground.

As he landed with a splat, the light changed to pink, swirled around the pearl and Tulia, then retreated to Brianna with the two precious objects encased in its cloud-like mist. Without conscious thought, Brianna held the pearl and Tulia in her hand—a hand that still smarted from the heat, but was now relaxed.

The Nixets screeched and crowded around their fallen monarch. He lay in the mud, his bearded face gray, eyes closed. Brianna let the held breath whoosh out of her lungs when a quick check by a wizened old Nixet revealed that the king still lived. She was relieved that she hadn’t killed him.

Two of the older Nixets turned to the children and waved their staffs. Brianna frowned, shoved the pearl and Tulia into her pouch and raised her hand, which immediately pulsed with power. She had no idea exactly how powerful these Nixets were or if her newly emerged skills could match theirs.

The Nixets stood frozen. Brianna saw the uncertainty in their expressions. They were as unsure of her potency as she was of theirs.

Amon backed slowly away, dragging a sobbing Dodi with him and gesturing for Conal to follow. He put Dodi on the domnak and took up the bridle, ready for a hasty departure. Amon touched Brianna on the shoulder.

She ignored him, her stare fixed on the Nixets. “I propose a new deal, Nixets. We will leave unmolested—”

The oldest Nixet frowned and waved his staff. “You’re not going anywhere. Those who attack the person of the king die!”

Brianna raised her hand and sent a blast of fiery white light toward the Nixet. It exploded at his feet—rocks, plants and mud splattered everyone. For a brief moment a small crater oozed in the mud. The Nixet appeared worried as he stared at the fast-filling hole. Brianna signaled with her other hand for Amon to move off. She heard him go and felt bereft at his departure, but she stayed put, determined to ward off the Nixets. The Nixets waited in silence and made no protest when Brianna sent out a translucent pink cloud that scooped up the unconscious Nixet king and brought him to her. She dumped him over her shoulder still wrapped in remnants of the pink cloud. The babble that arose from the Nixets hurt her ears. The older Nixet advanced, his staff pointed at her. Brianna lifted her hand again and placed it on the Nixet king.

“One more step and the king dies,” Brianna grated in warning.

The Nixet froze. Brianna backed away. The Nixets didn’t move. With just one quick glance over her shoulder, she kept backing away until she judged she was out of reach of any magic they might cast. Then she turned and sloshed at a clumsy run after the others. The mud squelched into her boots and sucked at every footstep. Every few paces she checked over her shoulder, but there was no sign of the Nixets. The ground was getting soggier, and at times Brianna sank to her knees. The Nixet king was heavy, despite his small size, and Brianna was worried about Tulia still trapped in the bubble, but now was not the time to investigate.

At last she caught up with Amon. He glanced past her.

“They aren’t following?” he asked.

Brianna pointed to the Nixet king slung limply over her shoulder. “They’ll wait.”

Amon frowned, obviously not happy with the way things had turned out. She suspected she would now be the object of his fear and contempt because in most of Okana and Okiyarra a mortal of mixed blood with magic was someone to be feared or at the very least wary of. She felt defensive. It wasn’t her fault, the magic had just happened.

“What happens to him?” Amon asked with a glance at the unconscious king.

“I suggest we leave him and the pearl at the first rocky outcrop we find near the edge of the swamp.”

Conal glowered. “They don’t deserve the pearl.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Brianna said as she heaved the Nixet onto the domnak.

Conal pouted. “You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

Brianna shrugged. “I wasn’t sure I could.”

The sulky boy gave her a disbelieving look as he turned away.

Before they moved on, Brianna carefully lifted Tulia’s bubble out of her pouch. The child sat hunched on the floor of the bubble. She peered up through the translucent covering, her face white and tear-streaked. Brianna tapped the surface of the bubble ever so gently. When Tulia saw it was Brianna, she smiled weakly.

“It won’t be long now, Tulia. Hang in there until we’re out of the swamp.”

Tulia nodded and Brianna carefully placed the bubble and its precious cargo back in the pouch.

Brianna fell into step behind Amon.

“Walk in my footsteps, everybody,” he instructed.

Caked in mud and surrounded by the swamp’s evil stench, they trudged on until at last the ground became solid, with the mud and slime giving way to rocks and dry grasses. The sun was low in the sky, and ahead of them loomed a substantial rocky outcrop—silhouetted by the last rays of sun.

“This will do.” Brianna halted in the shade of the rocks and dumped her pack before she lifted the Nixet king from the domnak.

As she propped him in a sitting position on the ground, he muttered something unintelligible and pulled at his beard.

Amon and Conal stood back, watching the miniature man with wary fascination. Dodi stayed on the domnak, his cherubic face screwed up into a mask of hatred. Brianna felt a shiver of fear run over her skin as the king came to. She didn’t know if she could repeat the white blast, and she didn’t know quite how the Nixet king was going to react when he realized what she had done. In an effort to make his response as civil as possible, she picked up her water bottle, filled the lid and handed it to the still-dazed king. He sipped several times before he spoke, and his eyes darted from one to the other as he assessed his situation. Now he fixed a beady glare on Brianna. There was grudging respect in his eyes.

“So, Hakon’s daughter—you have inherited the gift, and it seems almost as powerful as the Grand Archon’s.”

She nodded, still worried about what this cunning creature might do.

“So I should have been a great deal more careful about being contrary.”

Brianna stood straighter, braver after seeing the effect her magic had on the Nixet king. “Yes, you should have.”

The king climbed to his feet. “And what do you intend to do with me, Hakon’s daughter?”

“I will release you to return to your people unharmed, but only on the condition that you break your spell on Tulia and promise to leave us to continue our journey in peace.”

The king seemed relieved. “Consider it done!” he said as he snapped his fingers. He muttered two short unintelligible words and suddenly Tulia stood beside them.

Brianna gave her a quick hug and Dodi clung to her hand, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

The king straightened his clothes and looked up at Brianna. “And the pearl?”

“You ask a lot, Nixet king, after the deplorable way you have acted, but when we go, we will leave the pearl with you.”

“But…” Conal protested as he stepped toward the Nixet.

Instantly he was stopped by Amon’s iron grip on his arm. Brianna knew how Conal felt, but she didn’t want to push her luck with her untapped power—or that of the Nixet.

The Nixet king smiled. “So, Bigfoot, our business is concluded.”

“It is,” Amon muttered.

The Nixet’s smile faded as the inner evil seeped out through his skin. “Just this once, warrior, you have been fortunate. If you’re wise, you won’t come this way again. Next time I will not be so unprepared for one as powerful as Hakon’s daughter. Now be gone from my sight.”

Brianna felt her heart sink into the seething mass that contorted her stomach. That horrid little man had used them, and now he was closing the only way home she knew. The desire to step on him was unbearably strong, but she gritted her teeth, heaved her pack onto her shoulders and trudged off in the direction of the mountains.

The answer to their dilemma would be found ahead in those mountains, lying like sleeping whitukas, dark and mysterious. If all went well, they would be in the foothills in a day or two. Brianna sensed the others falling into step behind her, but she didn’t dare to even glance over her shoulder in case the Nixet king was about to cast a spell at their retreating backs. She didn’t want to see it coming.

The light was almost gone, but Amon didn’t want to stop. Brianna heard somebody stumble.

Tulia’s anguished cry rent the air. “Dodi!”

The child was sprawled among the boulders, his chin bleeding profusely as plump tears trickled down his cheeks. He didn’t make a sound as he climbed clumsily to his feet.

Tulia shot Amon a venomous look. “See what you’ve done? We should have stopped ages ago.”

There was a mumble of agreement from Conal.

Brianna came back to stand beside Amon. “Amon isn’t to blame for this. I am. I didn’t want to pitch camp right under the Nixets’ noses.”

“Well, we are not all big tall warriors like you,” Tulia said softly.

“Never mind, Tulia. I think we’re far enough away now to stop.” Brianna dropped her pack and glanced at Amon for confirmation.

He peered around the darkness. “This appears safe enough, I suppose.”

They lit a small fire that provided comfort more than warmth, and quickly ate chunky sandwiches made from bread and cheese, washed down with hot tea Brianna had brewed from some of Hildegarde’s herbs. With the gnawing hunger satisfied, Tulia and Dodi huddled together in one blanket, reluctant to be separated again after their ordeal. Conal rolled into his blanket beside a small overhanging boulder left of the fire. Brianna sensed that he still felt some resentment toward Amon and envied the superior skills and strength the older boy had. But Conal had no understanding of the horror Amon had gone through to be like that. It was not something that came easily or without a price. Amon gave them each a brief look, stoked the fire and prepared to leave the camp.

“Where’re you going, Amon?” Brianna asked. Although he didn’t have his pack she was unexpectedly worried he was leaving them.

He gave her a grim smile. “I’m only going to set some snares. We can’t rely completely on our supplies.”

“Do you need help?”

“No thanks, Brianna. Somebody should stay here and watch over them. I won’t be far away.”

“Are you angry at me for what I did to the Nixet king? Using magic?”

Amon frowned before he gave a vague smile. “No, Brianna, I’m not angry, merely uneasy with powerful displays of magic.”

“I can’t help it. I didn’t ask to be born half Abrasaxon.”

“I know, Brianna. It will take some getting used to, that’s all. Be back soon.”

Brianna hugged her knees tightly as she watched him trudge off into the darkness. She’d only known Amon a few days and was surprised at the feeling of loneliness that washed over her as he disappeared. While she waited for his return she stared into the dancing flames, trying not to flinch at every minute noise, and wondered how much danger there was lurking out there in the darkness. There were no large predators this side of the mountains, and from reports of the war, the alien Yabix had been eradicated completely. Of course there was Zelig and the Gomahras.

Even though Amon had not spoken about his past, Brianna suspected he was still troubled by his experiences. He hadn’t really wanted to help them at first, but very quickly he’d become an important part of the team. She liked him—he was handsome, funny and caring. He was also brave and smart. A warm wave of sensation edged with a tingle of excitement seeped through her as she remembered the strange tension between them at the lake, and she wished things were normal so she could explore these new feelings.

The other thing that played on her mind was the manifestation of her gift. Amon had only made a vague comment about her magic display with the Nixets and she wondered if his uneasiness with her ability would come between them. While Brianna’s initial denunciation of her gift had faded, she worried about the future, after everybody was rescued. Would she find a place in the world or would ostracism be her lot?

At a sharp rattle of stones, she jumped to her feet and peered into the darkness. Moments later Amon emerged from the blackness. He touched her shoulder, squeezing it quickly in reassurance.

“Amon… Can we talk?”

He smiled and brushed his fingers over her shoulder. “Later. Try to rest, Brianna. We have a strenuous walk tomorrow.”

She felt rejected, but didn’t protest, just wrapped herself in the blanket and curled up to sleep. He hadn’t wanted to talk about what had happened, and she interpreted that as a bad sign. The night stretched interminably. The hard rocks stabbed her body, leaving oddly shaped indentations in her back, arms and side while her doubts and fears stabbed at her mind. In the moments she stared at the stars, she heard the others toss and sigh as they struggled with the night. Again she wished desperately to be home, safe.

 

* * * *

 

When the sky began to lighten, Amon went to retrieve the snares. The others had slept at last, and before they woke, Brianna went to fetch some water from the small stream they’d passed prior to setting up camp yesterday.

She met Amon on the way back, two white floppy-eared tahua dangling from his hand.

“Good hunting.”

He nodded. “They’ll do for tonight. There seems to be plenty of game this side of the marsh.”

Brianna nodded. “Everything’s still alive here. It must be Zelig’s influence in the valley that’s killing everything…” A sudden buzz in her head tore the next words out of her mind.

“Help me. Oh, moons’ curse, I don’t want to die. Help.”

Brianna smacked her forehead to dispel the words from a voice she did not recognize, but the fear and desperation they carried remained in her mind like a stain. A loud roar filled her ears and echoed around the clearing. It was followed by a sharp clatter.

Brianna jumped, her nerves jangling with fear. “What’s that?”

Amon flung down the carcasses and drew his sword. He broke into a run as he left the camp.

She checked the children. They were standing stock-still by their blankets, expressions of terror on their faces. Brianna’s heart clenched in sympathy—they’d all faced so much in the last few days. They didn’t need another whituka to battle.

Brianna struggled to catch up to Amon as he bounded up the slope, stunned at his instant battle-ready response. Moments later she halted beside him. He stood frozen, his face an ashen gray. He made strangled choking noises as he tried to find his voice.

Finally he did, and bellowed, “Yabix! Run, Brianna.”

Brianna stared at the huge creature in the meadow below. She gulped. It was awful. The ballads sung by passing musicians had definitely not done justice to the horror of the real thing. The Yabix was like a six-legged wekaza, except that it stood ten feet high, upright on the back four legs as it swept its two front legs, armed with pincers, over the head of a young woman. Loose blue-gray skin flexed and bubbled around heaving muscles and flesh, jagged patches sloughing as the creature moved. The unknown juvenile female was backing away from the creature’s advance, her spear and shield held defensively in front of her. Two serpent-like heads lunged down at her with huge, gaping mouths filled with sharp yellow pointed fangs that dripped slime. Long forked tongues flicked from side to side, tasting the air—seeking the taste of its prey. The woman thrust with her spear but the Yabix agilely stepped aside and the spear passed uselessly by its ribs. The misplaced thrust unbalanced the woman and she stumbled forward, landing on the ground. The Yabix reared over her and roared.

Small hands clutched at Brianna’s clothes as Dodi and Tulia pressed close, whimpering with terror.

“Fiery moons, a Yabix,” Conal muttered.

Her stomach turned at the acidic fumes emanating from the creature. A tight band of fear gripped her chest. Her legs trembled and refused to move forward. She stood frozen, staring, her sword half drawn.

As if suddenly sensing others, the creature stopped mid swipe and lifted its two heads high, the tongues thrust fully out into the air. It roared again as it towered over the helpless stranger and stared in their direction.

“Stay back, all of you. I’m going in to rescue the girl,” Amon yelled as he charged down the slope, his sword held high over his head and a curved silver dagger held stiffly out in front of him.

Sensing imminent attack from a more worthy foe, the Yabix threw up its heads and lumbered forward to close the gap. Four glowing red eyes now squinted with evil intent. Amon steadied himself before he lunged forward, his sword aimed directly at the Yabix’s exposed belly. It reared up with a rumbling hiss. Amon’s sword glanced off the scales, but immediately he brought his sword back for another thrust.

“I’m going to help,” Conal yelled as he drew his sword.

Brianna had no chance to stop him before he hurtled toward the battle.

“Tulia, Dodi, go hide somewhere—do not come out until it’s safe.”

“Brianna,” Tulia wailed.

“Do as I say, Tulia.”

Brianna drew her sword and launched herself down the slope, hoping that Tulia did as she was told. The unknown woman was back on her feet now, tormenting the Yabix with well-placed stabs from the rear. Her flimsy shield was held high to ward off the thumping swipes that rained down on her from the spiny tails.

Amon danced back and forth, trying to find an opening between the two front legs and the two swishing heads.

Conal surged forward. “Ahhh!” His battle cry rang out as he rushed in, sword flashing in the sunlight.

“Conal! No!” Brianna and Amon yelled in unison.

“Take that, Yabix!” Conal howled and stabbed furiously at the scaly back.

The Yabix squealed in pain as the boy ripped his blade through the tough membrane and embedded it deeply into the spongy flesh. Blue-gray liquid gushed from the wound. Conal stared at his blade in horror. The Yabix roared and spun around, slimy arms with razor-sharp claws slashing the air.

Conal backed away, his face ashen. “Warrior, help!” he squeaked as the realization hit him that this creature was not playing. It intended to kill him.

The maddened creature began to stalk Conal, its ugly mouths slavering blood-flecked foam. Conal, now armed only with a small hunting knife, backed away.

“Keep going but watch those tails, they have a reach of fourteen feet,” Amon yelled before he joined the young woman behind the creature, his sword poised, ready to strike.

Obediently Conal backed away, barely fast enough to stay out of reach of the lumbering Yabix’s tails.

He waved his arms provocatively and yelled, “Come on, you ugly brute. Come and get me.” His sword still hung in the creature’s flesh, heaving up and down as it moved.

The huge gray tails twitched then lashed out with sightless accuracy. Conal backed hurriedly out of reach, his gaze darting back and forth between the two writhing lengths. Close enough to strike, Amon brought his sword back then drove it forward, shoving the blade up to the hilt in the pulsating gray mass. A terrible screech rent the air. Amon tugged at his weapon, but it was stuck fast. Desperately he twisted and pulled, but already the tails were swinging around to slap at him. Frantically, he tried once more to free the weapon. Brianna fretted. That was three strikes and still the creature did not die. Amon had told her it often took five or six solid strikes against a Yabix to kill it. Warriors in the war had always tried to fight them in pairs to kill them more easily.

Brianna watched as the dark-haired young woman jumped forward and thrust her spear deep into the flesh beside Amon’s quivering sword.

“Watch out!” Brianna cried.

It was too late for Amon to duck. The viciously armed tails struck him a savage blow to the head. His head jerked back, he swayed on the spot then collapsed to the ground.

“Run, Amon! Amon! Get up, Amon!” Brianna urged.

Amon staggered up, reached blindly for his weapon, but found only air. The writhing mass of heads, arms and tails reached for him again. One of the Yabix’s heads snapped forward and sharp, venom-filled fangs sank into Amon’s shoulder.

Brianna charged in, her sword swinging wildly. “Let him go, you beast!” she yelled.

The Yabix flung Amon like a rag doll thirty feet up the slope and turned to face Brianna. The razor-sharp claws flashed through the air. Evil-smelling fluid gushed from the three puncture wounds already inflicted.

Brianna saw cunning intelligence flicker in its four bloodshot eyes as the Yabix assessed her strength and anticipated her next move. She raised her hand and willed her magic to materialize. It began to build, but too slowly, so she abandoned her efforts. Brianna sensed the woman move in beside her, but she didn’t have time to acknowledge her presence. Together they made strike after strike, but only managed to inflict superficial wounds.

In desperation, Brianna lifted her hand again. This time she felt the power surge down her arm and centralize in her palm. Mentally she willed it forward, and the blast came. White-hot light ripped through a thick muscular neck, immediately behind one of the Yabix’s heads. The creature didn’t even have time to move before the severed head hit the ground in a shower of bloodied flesh, writhing tongue and red, glinting eyes. The stump of its decapitated neck waved around blindly as the remaining head swiveled to face its new foe. It roared. Brianna raised her hand again and conjured up another deadly blast.

This time she caught the Yabix in the rump. It staggered but still did not fall. “Moon lights—die, you bastard.”

She blasted again, but this time the blast was so weak it did nothing more than sear the scaly skin. Knowing she was weakening and unable to summon up more magic power, she gripped her sword tightly and slowly moved closer, only vaguely aware of the stranger beside her. When a tail lashed out, she ignored it, waiting until her circle was three-quarters complete. Then she lifted her sword and rushed madly forward. The Yabix tried to swing around, to cover its blind side, but Brianna moved too quickly. She raised her sword and drove it deeply into the undulating flesh, feeling it jerk as it slid through the tough skin. She twisted it sharply and dragged it out again before sprinting out of reach. The Yabix roared and swiped savagely at empty space. Gasping for air, Brianna waited. That was six strikes. It seemed like an eternity before the creature shuddered. Its tails went limp, its huge clawed hands hung at its sides. It screeched again, raised its remaining head to the sky, then—tongue hanging out and eyes glazing over—it toppled slowly to the ground.

Brianna’s knees buckled and she sat heavily on the ground, her sword slipping from nerveless fingers. With trembling hands she wiped the stinging sweat out of her eyes and inspected the young woman standing in front of her. Her greeting died in her throat as her mind groped to make sense of her vision. Except that the stranger had the most intense gray eyes and the darkest of hair, Brianna might have been looking in a mirror.

“Hello, sister. I am Issah, second daughter of Hakon. I’ve been trying to find you.”

Brianna’s mouth sagged open. She tried to speak, but although her mouth moved and her throat convulsed, no sound came out. Issah waited in silence for her response.

“You all right, Brianna?” Tulia asked as she limped up.

Brianna nodded and with shaky hands handed over the medicine bag. Tulia gave one appraising glance at Brianna’s dark-haired look-alike, then gathered up her skirts and lurched up the slope as fast as her crippled leg would allow.

Brianna fought to hide the tremors and confusion rattling through her. “I didn’t know… Nobody told me I had a sister. I didn’t even know who my father was until a few days ago… I don’t know…”

“You probably don’t know what to think or how to feel, Brianna. Maybe you’re even angry about the secrets. You probably even resent me,” Issah informed her calmly.

Brianna had not been able to keep the pique out of her voice and yes, she was angry. She was jealous, and hurt that she’d been lied to, and she couldn’t discuss it right now with this girl in front of her because unshed tears and constricted sobs strangled her throat. There was nothing she could say right now that would not be cruel and dismissive.

“I need to see Amon,” she muttered as she turned away from the girl called Issah and watched the Yabix twitch.

It at last lay still. Only then, certain it was dead, did Brianna feel the tension ease out of her body. Slowly she pushed herself upright onto weak and shaky knees. Cold tremors rushed over her body in debilitating waves. She held onto the rocks to steady herself. Sweat dampened her skin and as she licked dry lips, she tasted salt. She swallowed, making her dry throat rasp. After a long moment, she felt strong enough to move, and on legs still unsteady, she staggered up the slope. Without invitation, Issah followed her.

Tulia was kneeling by Amon when Brianna got there. He writhed, his face covered in gray slime, the triangular puncture wounds on his shoulder weeping venom and blood, the flesh already swollen and discolored.

“Lie still, warrior. You’re hurt.”

Tulia’s gentle voice must have penetrated his pain. For a moment he relaxed then, with stubbornness born of war, he forced his eyes open. “Conal? Where’s Conal?”

“Conal’s fine. Lie still, so I can get this muck off.” Tulia held him down with all her tiny weight.

But Amon continued to fight her. “The Yabix…”

“It’s dead.” Brianna forced her tone into a matter-of-fact flatness as she fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her stomach.

With unsteady arms, he pushed himself into a sitting position and peered down the slope. “I can’t see, Tulia! I can’t see!” He clutched wildly at her arm.

The Yabix had tumbled into a gory heap at the bottom of the slope, but there was no sign of Conal. Together Tulia and Brianna pushed Amon down.

“Lie still, Amon. Rest now,” Tulia urged the struggling man.

“No! Where’s Brianna?”

“I’m here, Amon.” She touched his arm. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She sniffed inelegantly and wiped them away with her sleeve.

“And the girl?”

“She’s fine, Amon.” Brianna touched his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.

He clutched at her hand. “Go on without me, Brianna. I’m doomed. A single scratch can kill, never mind about a full-toothed bite.” He struggled to speak, his throat swelling closed from the poison. “First the blindness, then the slow, rotting death, the poison eating away at your insides. They all went that way…” The words choked in his throat.

“No!” Brianna cried, startled by the depth of her feelings for him.

Tulia shook her head, her wide, thinnish lips drawn into a wry smile. “Don’t worry, warrior, you’re not getting out of your responsibilities that easily. You took us on for better or worse and now you have to stick with it until the end. Now lie still so I can apply this salve, then you will drink my potion.”

“All your salves and potions are useless,” Amon mumbled.

“Be quiet, warrior!” Tulia snapped. “My potions are strong.”

He turned his face in her direction and reached up to stop her. “Don’t waste it on me…”

Tulia slapped his hand away. “Don’t argue with me.”

“Where’s Conal?” Brianna asked.

Tulia smiled and pointed to the bushes halfway down the slope. “He’s being sick.”

Brianna gave Tulia a grim smile. She was all too familiar with how Conal’s stomach was feeling. Behind the bushes, she found him hunched over a rock, his face a sickly green.

“You shouldn’t have tried to tackle a Yabix.”

“It was horrible,” he muttered.

“The Yabix?”

A choking noise came from his throat. “Yes, and the killing.”

“Amon warned you that killing is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s awful, dangerous and more often than not leads to your own death, not heroism and glory,” Brianna said.

“So why? Why do they go to war? Why did Kenton want to go so badly he defied Father and snuck away in the middle of the night?” Conal wailed.

Brianna shrugged. “Sometimes the generals paint a picture of glory—sometimes the recruits believe so strongly in the need to protect loved ones, or they have no choice. Somebody had to rid the land of our enemy.”

“Why can’t we all live in peace?”

“I don’t know the answer to that. Maybe when we can all be more tolerant of our differences, accept one another’s failings, try harder, maybe then…” She squeezed his shoulder. “It’s no different to us fighting Zelig or the Gomahras. Sometimes you simply have to. Here…” She handed him the water bottle.

Conal rinsed his mouth out and washed away the remains of the tears he had pretended weren’t there, then he drank several large gulps.

Brianna stood up. “Will you help me get Amon’s sword, please?”

 

* * * *

 

With both swords cleaned, they returned to the others gathered at the top of the slope. The girl, Issah, stood a small distance from the injured Amon. With her arms folded across her chest, she stared down at him, stiff and silent, apparently oblivious to the tears that trickled down her cheeks. While Dodi stared unashamedly up at the stranger and Tulia peeped at her from under her lashes as she tended Amon, Conal abruptly marched right up to her and demanded identification.

“So who’re you?”

When Issah flinched at Conal’s bluntness, Brianna felt guilty about ignoring her, and obliged to introduce her.

“Everyone, this is Issah.”

She immediately felt bad about not introducing Issah as her sister, but she needed time to come to terms with this unexpected development herself before sharing the information with her friends. Issah frowned at her and Brianna felt a tickle brush over her mind. She glared at Issah, touched her forehead and then flung her hand outsharply. “Get out of my head,” she messaged.

Issah’s glared but, when Brianna did not elaborate on her first statement, Issah remained silent.

Tulia barely spared Issah another glance as she tended Amon. Conal scowled but acknowledged her with a nod of his head, and Dodi continued to stare up at her with wide eyes.

Other than the blunt introduction, Brianna ignored Issah, which was rude and unkind, but she definitely couldn’t cope right now with her revelation and the connotations that came with it. Would her Archon father even want to know her? After all, she was only half Abrasaxon. He had a full-blood daughter to follow in his footsteps. He would have no need for her. Did he even remember her? Her thoughts hammered relentlessly in her brain as she helped make Amon comfortable.

After they had forced Amon to swallow a small amount of Tulia’s nasty-smelling potion, they carried him back to camp on a makeshift stretcher of belts and branches. He struggled to breathe and could not see but agreed with Brianna that they should move on as quickly as possible, as Yabix rarely lived a solitary life, preferring to live in groups to breed, hunt and raise several pairs of twins each moon cycle.

Issah followed them in wraith-like silence after she had retrieved her sword and small pack from near the dead Yabix. At the first rest stop, she reached out to Brianna—in comfort or question Brianna didn’t know and refused to face. She abruptly shrugged Issah’s hand off her arm and turned to pick up the stretcher poles. Without a word, Conal picked up the other ends, and together they carried the heavy burden of the now unconscious Amon back to camp. As they approached, the domnak brayed loudly in welcome and Brianna flinched, knowing everything for miles would hear that raucous noise.

With barely a movement of air and shadow, Issah ran lightly past them. Moments later, the domnak fell silent. As they drew closer, Brianna could see Issah leaning close to the domnak’s face, and it was nodding up and down, exactly as if it was listening to the stranger.

As they began to pack, Issah came to stand beside Brianna. “Sister, I know you are angry and confused, and your friend is hurt, but I have come to find you. We need to talk. Father always said if I needed help and he wasn’t available, I was to find you.”

Brianna hefted her pack on her back before she faced Issah. “Why?”

“It’s a complicated story. We need to talk, Brianna, but not here. When we camp for the night will be soon enough. I see you are already heading in the direction of the Crystal Castle.”

“Yes. I was going to find my Abrasaxon father—to get his help.”

“And that is why I have come to find you, because he needs your help. The whole Abrogative Direktorate needs your help—our help.”

“What help would I be to the Abrogative Direktorate? I’m only his abandoned half-breed daughter…”

Issah grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip. “No, Brianna. Do not talk of yourself in this way. It’s not true,” her sister scolded, her eyes filling with tears. “Father would be horrified if he found out this is what you think of yourself.”

Brianna pulled away, but bit down on the scathing retort that had come to mind. Instead, she said bluntly, “We have to go, Issah. Are you coming with us?”

Issah nodded and fell into step behind them.