Chapter 6 #2
Her squawk of indignation followed him out of the barn. Grinning broadly, he hustled into the rain and moved carefully across the open yard to the tree line. Adrenaline pumping, he scanned the forest for the best shadows. It was just a game, but already his mind began to work in a different way.
His vision shifted in and out of focus, illuminating the shadows with depths of gray. Gazing into the field of trees, he could see which shadows were longer and deeper. Better to hide in. Using the new skill, he picked one underneath a particularly large tree and melded himself into it to wait.
After a few minutes, the air stirred above his head. Neka sat poised on the trunk of a downed tree, wings beating the air in silence. Huh. He hadn’t thought about shielding above himself. Was there a difference?
Trying again proved there was. It was awkward, but he was able to use the same method to close the air above him into his shield of shadows.
Laughing, he saluted Neka and went to hide again. This time, when she found him, she blew at the tracks leading to his hiding spot.
“I don’t get it.”
Neka pawed at the ground until the tracks were scuffed back to normal dirt.
“No way. That’s not possible.”
An annoyed growl told him he was wrong.
Figuring he had no reason not to try, he knelt in the muddy earth and pressed his hand next to a footprint. His vision sparked and sputtered like a dying candle, but the sharp pop indicated he could indeed differentiate the print from the plain dirt.
Incredible. Using the same instinct, he hid the track as if it were an extension of himself. It disappeared partially, as if he’d run out of magic for the rest.
“Neka, you are the smartest owlcat ever.”
She preened at the complimentary tone, and he chuckled. He had his work cut out for him relearning magic. Maybe the sword wouldn’t be the hardest skill to rebuild.
Over the course of the afternoon, he improved his shielding skills but couldn’t get more than a few steps worth of tracks to disappear. Neka was careful not to hurt him but seemed to enjoy hunting him and pouncing when she found him.
By the time dusk glittered the air, he was exhausted, drenched in mud, and had tufts of Neka’s fur sticking to him. Smiling, he gave her back a scratch where her wings met as they came out of the woods. Purring, she leaned heavily into him in what he’d decided was an owlcat hug.
“Go hunt, we’ll play again tomorrow.”
Raiden rubbed his chest as he stood in the pouring rain, letting the sky wash the earth from his body. Playing with Neka had been challenging and fun and made his heart ache for something he couldn’t define. Someone he couldn’t remember.
Hearing Daya moving around in the room beside his, Raiden set down his sketches and massaged his hand.
She had come in very late with nearly silent steps in an attempt not to wake him.
It hadn’t worked, but he’d let her retreat to her room in peace for the remainder of the night.
Daylight was now pouring through the window, and he needed a cup of tea.
Setting the pages aside, he got up and sheathed his dagger.
After working with it and carrying it constantly, he was confident he wouldn’t harm Daya with it.
He wasn’t willing to pick up the sword in her presence though.
That weapon still brought horribly vivid and often bloody memories to his mind.
He’d woken from a similarly harsh dream a while earlier and sat down to sketch images from his memories. Symbols and simple designs covered the page. The same ones over and over. He got the feeling his mind was working hard to recreate something, he just didn’t yet know what it was.
Dawn filtered through his window, bringing the faint scent of rain with it.
This close to Zamyra, storms came with a thick humidity even during the cold months.
After a slight hesitation, he decided to continue behaving as if this were his home and decided to leave his shirt where it hung over the back of his chair.
He was still overheated from the nightmare, and Daya wouldn’t hesitate to tell him if it made her uncomfortable.
Heading to the kitchen, he set about his routine of making tea.
He felt Daya enter the room. Energy swirled around her in her signature blend of gentle power.
Aware of magic as he now was, he had no problem picking up the faint hum that radiated from his huntress.
It was unique as she was, and he was somehow certain her power was as unusual as the behavior of her wild hawks.
Raiden turned to face her and leaned back, gripping the kitchen counter with both hands to keep from hauling her into his arms. The instinct was getting harder to fight each time she returned.
Daya’s eyes traced over his body, looking for injuries.
His did the same, completing the silent ritual they’d created when they’d been apart.
Lines of stress and exhaustion marred her features, but they seemed only slightly worse than when she’d left.
The burn of her gaze traveled over his chest and arms, making his skin heat with pleasure.
“Welcome home.” He smiled as her breathing picked up and her shoulders stiffened.
Apparently, she was waging an internal battle about his semi-naked presence in her kitchen. Good. He knew she felt the pull toward him just as strongly as he did her. She wouldn’t be fighting so hard to resist him otherwise.
Giving her time to adjust to his presence, he turned back to the tea he’d been preparing when she walked in. Retrieving the jar of lentha nectar, he stirred some into both mugs and added slices of tangy orlen fruit. The sweet, citrusy aroma floated to him in delightful waves.
Feeling the weight of her gaze, he turned and caught her staring at his abdomen. The wound had finally closed completely. Though his body still ached, he could move freely again as long as he didn’t overdo it.
“It’s healing well, thanks to you and Neka,” he said.
Surprise brightened Daya’s eyes as she accepted the mug of tea from him. “Neka?”
“You didn’t know? She came to me a few times and licked the wound. I would swear her fur brightened with magic when she did, but that was probably the fever.”
“That explains a lot. I’d wondered at the jumps in your recovery. If she hadn’t done that, we would have lost you. There were a few days…” She trailed off and took a stressed breath.
“I’m a fighter, anaiah. I would have made it.” He had his doubts, honestly, but hated to hear the slip of fear in her voice. Leaning forward, he let a slow grin spread over his face and winked at her. “I’m glad you both took a liking to me, or I’d really be lost.”
He meant the words, but his playful tone had the desired effect, and she laughed, tension releasing in a rush of bubbling sound. Her smile edged the darkness out of her eyes and lit a fire in his soul.
There she was. She was gorgeous always, but the sound of her joy, even for a moment, filled him with warmth. She didn’t laugh often enough, living life solemn and alone with her animals. If she’d let him stay, he’d make it his mission to fill her life with the joy and pleasure it lacked.
“Everything okay while I was gone?” Her body language finally settled into a relaxed state.
“Yes. Neka, Ember, and I got along just fine. And you were right, the time alone to practice was necessary. The flashes I continue to have are not as jarring anymore.” He touched one of his blades.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Raiden.”
“It’s probably for the best. The first few times were bad, and I was… jumpy. If you’d been here, I’d probably have ended up camping in the woods to ensure I didn’t hurt you. Not so fun, with all the rain.”
She sputtered a laugh. “That’s true. It was a little rough with the weather. I didn’t get as far as I’d planned.”
“You’re going back out?”
“I have to Raiden. It’s part of my responsibility.”
“Your responsibility as a… huntress.”
Daya shrugged, avoiding his gaze to look around the room.
There was something there she still wasn’t telling him. Sighing, he told himself to give it time and let it go. He wanted her to share her secrets with him, but not because he’d coerced her.
“The hawklet is healing well, by the way,” he said. “Ember was a bit suspicious at first, but she’s come around and decided to be helpful.”
“That’s good.”
“Speaking of…”
Raiden moved across the room to the fireplace and picked up the hawk statue from the mantel. Handing her the tiny amorite figurine, he watched closely as she examined it. Her lashes fluttered as she ran her fingers over the intricate shape of the bird’s wings.
“It was made with a great deal of care. And it resembles the one in your chest,” he said. “The little boy left it with the hawklet. I assume the grandfather they mentioned made it and bid him to deliver it with the bird. Sly old man. Did you know him?”
Daya nodded and cleared her throat. “I did, once. I was involved with… a relative of his, Draven, for a little while. It didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated, Raiden.”
There was something there… a piece of the mystery of Daya’s life he wanted to know. It hadn’t ended well, based on the interaction she’d had with the man from the village.
“Do you regret how it ended?”
“It wasn’t right, much as I wanted it at the time. He was kind and loved me. And he already had a son. I’d been on my own on for a while when we met. I cared for him, and I was struggling with the change of moving to the mountain. I was lonely.”
“Wait. Why was it important that he already had a child?” There’d been something in her voice.
“He had a son,” she emphasized, “so there was already a guarantee his bloodline would continue. He didn’t need me to produce an heir.”
“I don’t understand. Why is that significant?”
“I’m…” Daya’s voice thickened with deep emotion. “I can’t have children, Raiden.”
“Anaiah.” He waited until she met his eyes. “Why would that matter to a mate who loved you?”
“The potential end of their bloodline is pretty significant for most people. You’re saying it really wouldn’t matter to you?” Incredulity colored her tone. “Wouldn’t make a difference in your choice of a mate?”
“No. My sister will carry on our bloodline. It’s her right and responsibility, not mine. I’d love to raise another child, but not because I need to continue my line. There are other ways to leave a legacy.”
He frowned at his own words. Why had he said ‘another’?
The girl with red hair and feisty green eyes ran through his mind, giggling with mischievous energy.
He’d caught flashes of her in his memory more than once.
Daughter didn’t feel like the right term, but she was his, somehow.
A younger sister maybe. His head began to throb with the effort, so he reluctantly let the thought go.
“You’re Calderran.” Daya’s whispered words hit him with a forceful punch.
“What?” He whipped his gaze back to her. “Why would you say that?”
“Combined with your skills and your magic, your statement was pretty revealing. Very few realms pass heritage down through the female line.”
Calderre was one of them—the only realm in close physical proximity to Eldridge. His stomach flipped, mixed sensations of relief and dread mingling.
The snowy northern realm was a matriarchal society led by a queen. A sanctuary realm for mages fleeing places like Eldridge and Zamyra. Most of their world persecuted those with magic.
It was a danger he hadn’t considered. Alone on the mountain with only Daya, he hadn’t given much thought or worry to the fact that he was a mage living in a realm that would imprison him for his abilities. Daya was too. Perhaps that was part of what drove her isolation on the mountain.
Being Calderran wasn’t a problem by itself, but it threw another barrier between them. Watching her eyes begin to dim, he already felt it rising.
“Maybe I’m just unusual.” His smile felt forced.
“Well, you’ve always been very accepting and respectful of my lifestyle.
The villager’s attitude is more commonly what I receive.
One of the reasons I avoid people.” She closed her eyes briefly, as if strengthening herself for what was coming.
“It makes sense, Raiden. Especially given the ink on your back.”
“I have a tattoo? Where is it?”
Turning at her hand motion, he gave her his bare back.
“It’s on your shoulder blade.” Her fingers traced over his skin, outlining a pattern. “A sword and a lightning bolt, with dark shadows flowing around them.”
“The shadows are mine.” The words came from deep within, a claim he knew with certainty but couldn’t fully comprehend thanks to the block in his mind. “The emblem—that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s for the Calderran Lightning Teams.”
Rightness seared through him. That was exactly what it was. He wasn’t a monster with a blade, he was a highly trained soldier. Relief made him weak in the knees. Something solidified in his chest. His skills were terrifying for a very good reason if he was a lightning warrior.
“A protector, just like I said.” Daya’s voice had softened, and he found her watching him again.
A sliver of pain shadowed her features. She turned away but wasn’t quick enough to hide it from him.
Why would that upset her? Time and time again, she’d assured him that his skills stemmed from a protective nature.
The fact that he was part of an elite group of warriors shouldn’t be a surprise to her. So why was she hurting?
Reaching out, he turned her face toward his so he could search her eyes. “You knew.”
“I… it was a strong possibility.”
“Anaiah.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she’d stayed silent, but deep down, he knew.
Every bit of knowledge revealed about either of them added to the chasm between them. He wasn’t alone. Not only did he have family to draw him back, he likely had a warrior team missing him too.
“It doesn’t really matter without the rest of my memories,” he murmured.
“It does,” she whispered. “You know it does.”
Daya pulled back, and he let her go. The distance between them widening with every step she took away from him.