The Sending
F east of Vendane had finally arrived, a time when Sacoridians gathered together for harvest festivals and feasting.
For Karigan, it meant attending Queen Estora’s ball in the evening.
Before then, however, she and Mara had time to exercise their horses.
While Mara saddled Firefly, Condor impatiently lipped Karigan’s hair and then shook his head, the metal of his bridle jingling. He was eager for a run.
“Stop pouting,” Mara told her as she tightened Firefly’s girth. “We exercise on the west side parade grounds all the time.”
“Exactly,” Karigan replied. “I’m tired of it.
Condor and I want out.” What she’d really wanted was a ride out to the Scangly Mounds, unconfined with the freedom for Condor to really stretch his legs.
To run for the joy of it. However, Zachary’s prohibition that she not leave the city made it impossible.
“I know you do,” Mara said, “but orders. Besides, Tegan is predicting an imminent snowstorm.”
They led the horses out of Rider stables and mounted. Condor danced in place ready to go.
“Settle,” Karigan told him.
“Ready, Rider Pouty?”
Karigan stuck her tongue out at Mara, who chuckled.
They set off on the track that would lead from Rider stables past the front entry of the castle, to where the west side parade grounds were located. Condor continued to dance like a three-year-old at his first Day of Aeryon race.
“It’s the wind,” Mara said, “tickling him.”
In contrast, Firefly looked almost bored, but the farther they got from stables, the more he perked up.
“I wouldn’t mind getting out of the city myself,” Mara said, “but I’ve too much to do.”
The difference, Karigan thought, was that Mara was free to leave if she decided to set those duties aside and go. She wasn’t prohibited from leaving.
“Probably we could both use a pint at the Cock and Hen,” Mara reflected. “And the book shop. Maybe not in that order.”
On this point Karigan could not disagree. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d read a book or indulged in a pint of good bitter ale.
A dense ceiling of clouds hung low over the castle turrets and the city. She didn’t need Tegan’s weather sensing ability to know snow was on the way for she could smell it, the fresh, cold influx of air that preceded precipitation.
As they passed the front entrance of the castle, she spied a couple Weapons in seemingly casual conversation—Erin and Travis. Travis’ gaze seemed to track her as she rode by. Perhaps it was her suspicious mind, but might he be keeping an eye on her to ensure she did not try to escape?
When they reached the parade grounds they found two members of the heavy cavalry exercising their great war steeds, but they soon left.
Condor snorted and pawed, so ready to run that at last she gave him his head.
They tore off across the parade grounds and she laughed, the cold air whipping her cheeks raw.
Flurries began to fall, and she and Mara delighted in racing their steeds through wisping squalls.
After a time they walked the horses to rest them, though the geldings seemed to be having as much fun in the falling snow as their Riders.
“Can barely see the castle,” Mara said.
The walls and towers faded away behind the squall, like a curtain pulled across their vision. The snow melted when it hit the ground, but that wouldn’t last for long.
“Are you ready for the harvest ball tonight?” Mara asked.
Karigan brushed snow off her sleeves. “Maybe it should be called the snow ball.”
Mara laughed at that.
“But yes,” Karigan continued, “I suppose I am ready.” In truth, it was like steeling herself for battle. The Eletians would return in the evening with the longcoat and they would proceed to the ball together. How many and which Eletians, she did not know.
“I am sure you’ll do us proud,” Mara said.
“I don’t know about that. I haven’t danced since...” She frowned.
“Mad Queen Oddacious?”
She nodded. “Yes, the masquerade ball.” It was a good thing she had been masked, for she had worn an outrageous costume borrowed from a theater friend of Tegan’s, and it had been completely out of step with the more refined and elegant costumes of the nobles.
Many of them had thought her part of the entertainment.
Those who attended seemed to remember Queen Oddacious more than the assassination attempt on Zachary.
“Did anyone ever figure out who came as the mad queen?” Mara asked.
“You mean, besides the Riders? I have no idea.” She hoped not. The costume had been a debacle.
“Let’s hope your experience tonight is more pleasant,” Mara said, “and nothing untoward happens.” She smiled and wheeled Firefly away to work him in a large circle.
Karigan thought back to her first ball at the castle.
She’d been made to attend as a Green Rider after a harrowing cross-country ride pursued by brigands that had been involved in a plot to usurp Zachary’s throne.
She hadn’t even been a real Green Rider at the time.
Her experience at the ball had not been a comfortable one, thrust as she was among all those nobles and her king.
Her king who had stirred such dangerous feelings in her even back then.
She had danced with Alton, and Shawdell the Eletian who was soon unveiled as the mysterious Gray One.
It was he who had broken the D’Yer Wall and helped to carry out the plan to usurp Zachary’s throne.
He was the son of Eletia’s crown prince, Jametari, which, with her adoption by King Santanara, made Shawdell her nephew. Such a strange thought.
She nudged Condor into a trot and followed the perimeter of the parade ground.
Livestock that had been grazed here over the summer during the war with Second Empire had been moved out to their usual wintering grounds.
Snow was now beginning to cover the hoof-pocked earth.
She could barely make out Mara and Firefly at the opposite end of the parade grounds.
The air was dense with snow and it mounded on Condor’s head and neck.
It was a bit silly of them to be out in this weather, but it was also kind of fun.
The wind charged in from the north and took her breath. It whooshed across the open ground and pushed the snow sideways.
More like Night of Aeryc than Feast of Vendane, she thought.
There was the prickle of snowflakes on her cheeks and she thought she heard a whisper on the wind, but she was probably imagining it. The snow whirled and coiled around her.
Kari-gan . . . came a distant whisper on the north wind.
No, she couldn’t dismiss it a second time.
Whorls of snow and gusts sculpted the figure of a woman before her.
Steady, experienced Condor actually shied away.
In but a moment, the wind settled and the figure fell apart.
Its individual snowflake crystals drifted away and blended into the flurrying snow.
It was enough, however, for Karigan to grasp who and what she was dealing with.
“Nari?” she said.
Greetings from the north, came the whisper.
Karigan smiled. Nari, once an Eletian, had taken on the form of an ice elemental at the defeat of the aureas slee, and became the aureas narivannis.
“It is good to see you.” All of this weather was Nari’s doing, then.
Kari-gan, a sending . . .
“A what?”
Her only answer was the wind and snow pelting into her face.
“Nari—” she gasped.
Kari-gan, a sending . . .
Out of the squall emerged the ghostly form of a large bird, silent wings pummeling through the snow, the wind buffeting its flight to and fro so that it must fight to maintain its course. The winter owl.
A sending . . . came Nari’s fading whisper.
The wind abruptly died and the owl glided overhead with ease. Karigan watched as it flew away, snow pattering on her upturned face. Had Nari meant the owl was a sending? But out of the fog of fat snowflakes drifted a white feather that alighted on her face.
A feather of the winter owl.
Karigan clutched it to her breast. “Thank you,” she murmured, and the squall slackened to a gentle flurry.
Mara trotted up, shaking snow out of her hair and laughing. “That was fun,” she said, “but I’m getting a bit damp and cold. I think a hot bath is in order after we take care of these beasts.”
“Yes,” Karigan replied. She carefully tucked the feather into an inner pocket of her greatcoat.
“What’s that you got?” Mara asked.
When Karigan explained, Mara frowned.
“That seems a little too specific for coincidence,” Mara said.
“It’s not. The aureas narivannis sent the owl.”
“Why am I not surprised? Just when I thought things might be getting back to normal for you.”
“What’s normal?”
“It appears to be ice elementals sending you winter owls and feathers.”
“At least Firefly and Condor haven’t grown new eyeballs.”
Mara laughed. “That’s true. Can you imagine having three-eyed horses?”
As they reined their horses around to head toward stables, they were hit by such a powerful gust the horses staggered sideways. The wind was frigid and carried not just snow, but stinging ice.
Be wary, Nari whispered, for darkness comes.
The wind settled as fast as it had risen.
“What was that?” Mara asked. “I thought I heard a voice.”
“More of my normal life,” Karigan replied with a tight smile. She told Mara of Nari’s warning.
“Huh,” Mara said. “Warnings are all fine and good, but it would be oh so much more helpful it they came with details. You know, like when and what.”
“No kidding,” Karigan muttered.
“I’ll pass the warning on to Connly,” Mara said, “and he can inform the king, but there’s not much we can do when it’s so vague but remain wary.”
They urged their horses in the direction of Rider stables and Karigan pondered Nari’s words: A darkness comes. There was no telling if it was a warning about the rise of Mornhavon and Blackveil, or something more immediate, but since it came from Nari, she knew she must take heed.