Chapter 5 #2
Still, some of what he’d said gave her pause. He may not have a mate waiting for him, but she was almost certain he had a daughter. He often rambled incoherently as he came out of nightmares—to her or Neka, usually.
Much of what he said and worried over indicated he felt strong ties to watch over young ones, particularly the little girl he kept seeing. Was what he said and saw just the jumbled musings of his recovering mind or real? She was at a loss as much as he was on that point.
By the time she buried her emotions and gathered her wits, Raiden had taken Melody all the way back around the corner to her stall and disappeared.
Shaking off the distracting thoughts once more, she swept and tidied the front of the barn.
It was built directly into the mountain with slats of light pouring in from high above, matching the design of her home.
Wood beams mixed with open rock walls to create a cavernous feel to the space. A rolling barricade could be pulled and latched to protect them from harsh weather or wild predators, but the owlcat was a fierce guardian.
The front held roosts for the hawks and a large nest for the owlcat.
Ereven and Ember perched quietly on their beams, no doubt conferring after their morning apart through their private mental pathways.
Sweeping around them, she continued to Neka’s empty nest. Bright strands of sunlit gold glinted in the top layer of the nest—strands of Raiden’s cut hair that Neka had taken back to her home.
Around the corner in a protected alcove were stalls for horses.
More of them than she would ever use. Instead, she’d taken to using some as storage.
Her home at the front of the valley entrance was a visitor post of sorts, still standing from ancient days.
A guard house standing protectively in front of the valley’s entrance.
Raiden had tied Melody’s lead to a metal bracket in the aisleway, his body angled toward the front of the enclosed space. He was grooming her coat to a shine, humming softly as he worked.
Her fingers stilled on the broom as she listened to him hum her mother’s lullaby. Did he realize she’d sung to him while he’d been delirious with fever? It had been the best way to soothe him, barring Neka’s presence in the room as a chaperone. His deep voice grazed over her soul.
“What’s that you’re humming?” she asked as she set the broom aside.
“I don’t know.” He glanced up from behind Melody’s shoulder. “I wake up from the nightmares with it in my mind. It’s soothing.”
“Have you remembered any of your recent dreams?”
Tossing the brush into the grooming box, he shook his head and gave Melody a final pat. “Bits and pieces. Just like the memories.”
“You know what might help? Working with your weapons.”
His eyes darkened with emotion as his throat worked. “What if I hurt you again?”
“It’s part of who you are. You can’t deny it forever, especially now that your body is healing.” Figuring the moment was as good as any, she pushed on. “I need to leave for a few days, so there won’t be any extra danger in practicing a little. It’s time, Raiden.”
“You’re leaving?” His head whipped up to hers in dismay.
“Hello!” a loud, male voice hollered from outside. “Anyone here?”
Raiden moved like lightning, wrapping his arm around her and pinning her to the wall.
The world around them blurred like frosted glass.
Body pinned protectively under his, Daya’s mind reeled.
He was covering her, hiding their presence with magic.
She was sure of it, could feel the telltale energy resonating around them.
“Raiden—”
“Quiet.” His lips brushed her ear in the faintest whisper. “They can hear us but won’t be able to see us.”
Heart pounding wildly at the revelation of Raiden’s power, she barely heard Ereven’s report on the visitor. Ember’s angry screech heralded a shadow looming near the barn’s entrance. A man peered inside the barn, repeating his greeting before stepping back outside.
Shoving her mind back into hunting mode, she unblocked the connection with the hawks. Images flew through her mind of what Ereven was seeing—a tall man with dark hair stood outside with his horse. A young boy with hauntingly familiar blue eyes beside them.
Pressing close to Raiden, she murmured, “It’s just a villager. There’s no danger. I need to go outside.”
Sparking green eyes held hers for a moment before he nodded and let her go. He stumbled a little, shaking his head as he righted himself. The burst of magic must have zapped his energy. Squeezing his hand, she left the barn before she could change her mind and continue hiding with him.
Ember was above her as she exited, perched in her defensive spot above the barn entrance. Ereven had settled back in the trees.
What’s he doing here?
The child brings a hawklet for you, Ereven reported.
It can’t just be that. This particular villager—Fremir—was one of the ones who usually avoided her.
A ruffled shrug was the mental reply.
Daya sighed. Fremir’s animosity was well placed. She was responsible for the death of his ancestor, Draven.
The village had always been neutral, if not friendly with her. Until Draven had mysteriously died on the mountain with only her as witness. It hadn’t helped that his body had been reclaimed by earth. Mortality was the price of entering a trial with the mountain, regardless of the outcome.
She’d always felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to give Draven’s family closure about his death. That she’d allowed him to challenge the mountain in the first place. His young son, Savian, had forgiven her, but the rest of the family hadn’t.
“Can I help you?” she asked out loud.
“I bring a message, huntress.” A touch more venom would qualify the tone as hostile.
She nodded for him to continue.
“There have been strangers in the village, looking for a foreign warrior. You should be careful out here alone.”
“Of course, thank you.” She fought to keep her tone from bristling.
No matter how hostile they were, Draven’s descendants didn’t deserve her wrath, momentary or otherwise.
A woman alone in Eldridge was an anomaly.
Few knew of her presence, even less were understanding of it.
This man’s family believed her to be the granddaughter of the mysterious woman who’d been involved with Draven’s demise.
“Have you seen a strange man in these woods?” he pressed.
Irritation tightened the muscles around her spine at the silent threat to Raiden. “No. I have not.”
The man grunted. “Well, send word if you do. We don’t need foreign trouble on our lands.”
His lands? She scoffed internally. “Is that all?”
“No.” He tensed before continuing. “My grandfather, Savian, has passed on to be with the ancestors. He asked that you be informed. The request caused some disruption among the elders of the village.”
Her breath stilled, an image of the gentle, dark-haired boy coming to her mind, though it had easily been over ninety years since she’d seen Savian. “Was it peaceful?”
“It was. He lived to be over a hundred. Longer than anyone in generations, our elders say.”
“Thank you for letting me know.” Her eyes flicked to the child who was the mirror image of his great grandfather. The boy looks like Savian did at that age.
A strong resemblance, yes, Ereven agreed.
Had four generations truly passed since she’d known them? Had the mountain accepted Draven, the then eight-year-old Savian would have become her son. It touched her that he’d remembered her after all this time.
“We’ll be going, then,” Fremir said.
“Papa, wait!” the boy exclaimed. “The hawklet.”
The man sighed, watching his son instead of meeting her gaze. “He found an injured hawk a week ago. Grandfather Savian told him to bring it to you if it didn’t heal.”
“Will you help him?” The young voice tugged at her memory.
“Will you help me?” Savian held out the chunk of black stone he was trying to carve. His dimpled smile tugged at her heart.
“What are you trying to carve?” she asked quietly, dropping to the floor beside the fire to sit with him.
“Neka.” He grinned up at her before looking across the room.
The young owlcat was curled up on Draven’s lap. The man was passed out in the chair, the lines of his face softened with sleep after a long day of hunting.
She smiled softly. Neka was truly too big for that but took advantage of his willingness to spoil her to win her favor. Shrewd little thing.
Savian looked up at her with beseeching blue eyes that matched his father’s.
“I’m not very good, but I’ll try.” Not with normal tools anyway, but she hadn’t confessed her magic to the pair yet.
Daya covered Savian’s hands with her own and helped him use his father’s carving tool to strike the stone. Maybe it was time to tell them the truth of who she was.
Daya’s chest swelled with emotion. Was she to suffer every challenge? Her future, present, and now her past all seemed determined to test her strength. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat that robbed her of speech.
“You can leave him in the barn. We’ll do what we can.” Raiden’s stern voice came from behind her. It was deep and steady, lacking the amused lilt she’d come to know.
His strong hands came down on her shoulders with a tender touch as he stepped close.
“Who are you?” the villager asked suspiciously.
Like it was any of his business. The threatening tone brought her back to spitting mad, but Raiden’s palms pressed her shoulders in silent communication to stay calm.
“I’m a horse trainer, and a friend of Daya’s.
We’ve been working together, learning each other’s trades for quite some time, but we prefer to keep to ourselves.
Your horse needs new shoes, by the way. Next time a blacksmith stops by the village, you should inquire or take him into one of the larger towns.
I assume you don’t have one, based on their condition. ”
That was an interesting stretch of the truth. More interesting was the perfect accent Raiden used.
His normal cadence had deepened to a more pronounced Eldrin accent instead of the soft one he usually had. Even down to the slightly guttural Zamyran undertone that locals in the deeper inland region had picked up from their neighbors across the border.
The boy—who was a spitting image of Savian—jogged past, having safely deposited the hawklet in the barn. The child smiled tentatively at her as he returned.
“I’ll look into that,” Fremir replied, studying his horse with a frown. “Good day, huntress.”
Swinging the child and then himself up onto the horse, Draven’s descendants turned and rode away.
She’d accepted her past mistakes, but having them race by in flesh and blood gave her pause, long buried emotions rising in waves just as powerful as they’d once been.
She’d loved and lost not just a potential mate in Draven but a son in Savian. It had been a long time since she’d thought about either. Until Raiden had fought his way into her life and woken her heart up from its deep slumber.
But she knew better than to follow those dangerous yearnings. Guardians weren’t meant to have a mate or children.
“Want to explain that?” Raiden asked.
“Not really, no.”
Green eyes flitted over her face, studying her intently before he gave a sharp nod. “Alright.”
“That’s it?” He wasn’t going to push her on the odd conversation?
“I’d like you to trust me, Daya. The way I’ve trusted you by sharing my fears and the pieces of my memory as they come back to me.
But that takes time. I want everything you’re willing to give, but nothing you’re not.
” Turning, he headed back to the barn. “I’ll see to the hawklet, assuming it’s a normal hawk and not like your two. ”
Her heart clenched as she watched him walk away. She did trust him, and that was entirely the problem.
I like the sky hunter better than her last male. Ember ruffled her feathers at her mate.
A fighter, yes, Ereven answered. Stronger than Draven.
If you two could stop debating my love life, we have a hunt to plan. Daya rubbed a hand over her eyes as something occurred to her. You knew Raiden had magic!
Of course, Ember said.
You could have told me. She’d forgotten the hawks could see magic. It had been years since the trio had needed to use those skills.
If you wanted to know, you should have asked. He flickers with it when he fights the night dreams.
Daya sighed as she headed into the house. Only our guardian duties matter. We’re leaving at dawn, whoever is joining me.
You’re mad because I’m right about the sky hunter. Ember’s snippy voice followed her as she went to pack her supplies.
Suddenly, the beckoning solitude of the forest seemed a great gift, even if she was going to hunt the darkness.