Chapter 7
Ridgecrest Forest, Border of Eldridge and Zamyra
Slogging through the forest, Daya did her best to ignore the rain and mud. It made traveling much more strenuous, and she was ready to go home. At least she could leave knowing they’d narrowed down the area. And it was much closer to home than she’d realized.
Because of the breadth of the problem the mountain had shown her, she’d assumed it would be farther out, covering a wide swath of land. She’d been wrong. They’d found the rock outcropping the mountain had shown them days ago, but nothing since.
You’re in a bad mood, Ereven observed. Do you miss your sky hunter?
He’s not mine. She gritted her teeth. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her that during their journey. I knew I should have brought Ember. Go scout ahead, will you?
She’s less talkative but more opinionated. You’d be in an even worse mood.
I’m still surprised she skipped her turn to travel. Ember had decided she didn’t want to switch with Ereven for the next stretch of hunting, choosing to stay home instead.
I’m not. She likes the sky hunter almost as much as you do.
Ereven. Scout. The hawk was all chatter today and no action.
Stopping, she took a sip of water and adjusted her glove. She really hated hunting in the rain. Gloves, heavy clothing, protective covers for her quiver and bow. It was an enormous hassle.
Apparently, Ereven felt the same. Between the fog and the rain, she didn’t blame him for not wanting to fly, but his lack of interest in hunting was not speeding up their trip.
One week out was far too long for this type of hunt, in this type of weather.
Especially when she could be home, curled up by the fire.
Flying low and fast, Ereven returned, wings beating powerful strokes as he came at her. The direct path gave little doubt to his intention, and she brought her guarded arm up just in time for him to land.
What’s wrong Ereven? What did you see?
Men. Fortress ahead.
The abandoned one? Ridgecrest? She remembered it as a crumbling pile of rocks. Should we spy high or low?
Ereven ruffled his wings in indecision. High. Fog for cover. We’ll fly.
Nerves roared through her stomach with the possibility that they’d found what they’d been searching for.
The towering fortress had once stood guard over the war-torn border between Eldridge and Zamyra.
It had still been an active military post when she’d been a small child and had succumbed to ruin by the time she became a guardian.
Though apparently not enough to keep it from being infiltrated by eroding darkness.
Under Ereven’s direction, Daya made her way carefully up the hillside that backed up to the fortress. The slope was steep, offering few spots that were situated for long-term observation.
She immediately took back her feelings about the rain. Drizzly fog blanketed the air, giving her an added layer of protection. She wedged herself behind a boulder, in much the same position as she’d found Raiden all those weeks ago.
As expected with the dense, stormy sky, she couldn’t see anything with the spy glass. Returning it to her pack, she connected with Ereven. Drawing from the well of the mountain’s magic within her, she let her mind fade away and melded with the hawk.
Let’s fly, my friend.
Looking down on the land from his eyes was always a bewildering experience.
Everything looked completely different as they moved through the air.
Ereven took off from his perch on the rocks above her and flew in wide, lazy arcs around the fortress in what hopefully appeared to be natural patterns to anyone who watched.
Selecting the outer areas first, he flew toward the stables.
The fenced yard was full of horses, most milling about outside the small stable. A little girl wound through the horses under the watchful eye of a large soldier who leaned against the fence. A veer of flight showed movement approaching from the center of the compound.
Land here, let’s observe, she said.
Ereven followed her request, landing quietly on the roof of the stable.
Selecting a bay mare, the girl stopped to pet the horse and work a halter onto the animal, whose head dropped low to accommodate her short stature. A loud whistle split the air as a lean man arrived. The little girl stiffened as the man came into view, stepping back to disappear amongst the horses.
“Lieutenant Devryn?” the newcomer called as he approached. “You’re needed at the keep.”
“What for?” Devryn asked.
“Problem with some of the brats. Hayes wants you in his meeting with the captain.”
“Alright, I’ll head over. You just coming on duty?”
“Yes, sir, perimeter watch.” The man glanced toward the horses.
“Go ahead, then.”
The messenger nodded and jogged off, continuing away from the direction of the main building toward the perimeter wall of the fortress.
Lieutenant Devryn waited until the soldier had disappeared into the fog before turning his gaze back to the horses and the hidden child. “Come out now.”
Squeezing between two horses, the girl gathered the lead line and walked quickly over to him.
“Finish getting the horses ready,” Devryn ordered. “And remember the rules.”
The child shivered and nodded obediently.
Stay or follow? Ereven asked.
Let’s follow the lieutenant.
The outer edges of the house were crumbling.
Old, shutterless windows gave them easy access to various areas.
It took a few tries before they found a gap that lined up with the room the lieutenant was in.
Perching in a tight gap near the ceiling let them peer down into the room without being noticed.
The man they’d followed was conversing with two others. One standing, with the look of a battered soldier. And one seated behind a desk with a distinct air of authority.
“So, interrogate them again,” the authoritative man waved his arm like the suggestion should have been a foregone conclusion.
“Captain Darrett, we’ve already punished them twice in as many days. They’re still claiming that the younger girl is sick.”
“You don’t think she’s faking?” Devryn asked.
The solider shook his head. “Kid is out cold. We can’t wake her up.”
Captain Darrett cursed and leaned back in his chair, glaring harshly at the man who had given him the bad news. “We’re already below our quota.”
The soldier looked distinctly uncomfortable at being treated as if it were his individual fault that they were behind.
“Did you gather any other useful information when you interrogated the others?” Devryn asked.
“They claim she needs to be outside, in nature, to recover. That’s why we were convinced it was a prank. But she’s not faking being unconscious. Not for two days straight.”
Captain Darrett made an annoyed face at the solider and nodded toward Devryn. “What do you think?”
Devryn shrugged. “She’s more valuable healthy than in her current state. Worth the risk to try it.”
“Fine, handle it,” the captain said. “But isolate one of the others any time she’s outside. I don’t want them thinking they can get away with anything. They can be accountable for her behavior if they’re so keen on saving her.”
“Let’s take the sick girl out to the courtyard,” Devryn told the soldier. “She’ll be visible enough to keep an eye on without pulling someone off other duties.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier nodded to his superiors and quickly exited the room.
“Devryn,” the captain called as the lieutenant moved to follow him. “I don’t want any disruptions from this nonsense.”
“Understood, sir.”
Daya sent her mental voice to Ereven. Let’s go. I’ve seen enough.
We’ve found the darkness.
Undoubtedly. I just don’t know what we can do about it.
Dizziness slammed into her as she separated from Ereven and sunk back into her own body. She kept her eyes closed, breathing steadily until her mind settled. It was a familiar pain that meant they were performing their guardian functions well.
The rain had stopped while they’d been making their observations. If it held, she’d make good time riding home. Nerves tightened in her stomach. The fortress felt wrong. The fact that it had been inhabited for some time was upsetting.
If the mountain agreed this was the source of the darkness, they’d have to find a way to remove them.
She’d need time to think and prepare. How in the world was she supposed to drive them out of her lands?
And what would she do about the children when she was physically bound to the mountain range, unable to take them to safety?
Daya’s Homestead, Hannelore Mountain, Realm of Eldridge
It was late, dark, and cold by the time Daya had conferred with the mountain and made it all the way home. The mountain’s unsettling words echoed in her head as she untacked Melody. Wait. You will know when.
Her head and heart throbbed in unison as she debated the situation. How could she manage to drive out a large group of mercenaries alone? A few people she could handle, but the fortress had been crawling with soldiers, many more arriving as they had left.
Upward of fifteen men was too many, even with her earth magic assisting her. If she unleashed her power, she could flatten the area, but that would mean sacrificing the children.
Raiden would help her for certain. But with his injuries and the threat of him still being hunted, it would take more than the two of them to remedy the situation and ensure the best outcome for the children.
Ember had warned that the house was sleeping when they’d entered communication distance hours before, so she took care to move silently as she entered her home. The sound of the crackling fire greeted her along with a burst of warm air. A plate of covered food sat on the counter, waiting.
Had she ever come home to a house filled with warmth and care? Continuing into the living room, she found her companions.
Raiden lay on the floor, sound asleep with his head braced on one arm.
The flames leapt nearby, casting dancing shadows around him.
Neka was sprawled next to him, head bent close to his as if they’d been sharing secrets before falling asleep.
Ereven had joined Ember, who slept quietly on her indoor perch near the open window, head tucked all the way down into her feathers.
Setting her pack down along with her sodden boots and coat, she moved to sit in the carved wooden chair near the fire.
They looked so peaceful, at home together in the room.
Daya wanted to laugh at the unusual sight but found tears pricking her eyes instead.
Watching them together hurt in the best and worst way.
A warm hand wrapped around her ankle with a squeeze. Jolting, she looked down to find Raiden’s green eyes focused on her with a sleepy warmth. She flattened her features, hoping the dim room hid her untamed emotions.
“Go back to sleep,” she said softly.
“Not a chance. Come here, love.”
The endearment whispered in his sleep-laden voice made her heart ache.
He called her anaiah frequently, when he was both playful and serious.
This seemed to slip out of a less intentional place, making her want to curl up beside him.
That was a terrible, horrible idea, but she slid from the chair anyway.
Raiden opened his arm and waited for her to lay next to him. His chest was heated from the fire, and his warm, bare skin was the best sensation she’d felt in a long time under her cheek. His hand trailed through her hair with gentle movements as his steady heartbeat began to soothe her.
“Let me help, whatever it is,” he insisted.
Her heart swelled at the offer, but she couldn’t accept. Not yet at least.
It was her responsibility, her burden to bear.
Involving him would put him in danger, and he was barely healed.
For all that he was a powerful warrior, he had a sweet, joyful soul.
His current condition would prevent him from getting the children to safety, and that would tear him up.
She didn’t want him to suffer that until absolutely necessary.
“Thank you, but—”
Raiden squeezed her tighter against his chest. “You haven’t even told me the problem, anaiah. How do you know I can’t help?”
Sealing her lips, she debated how to answer him. He was right, but her answer remained the same.
He sighed and tipped her head up, so that they were only a breath apart. It was the most intimate she’d ever been with him, and her heart sped up as his gaze bored into hers.
“I hate the secrets between us.” His voice was heartbreakingly soft even as the deep resonance wound its way into her soul. “Tell me they’re for your protection and not because you don’t trust me.”
“They are.” Her voice caught, breaking the reserve she’d built to keep him at arm’s length. “I do trust you, Raiden. And I’ll let you help when the time comes. I promise.”
“Good.” He smiled at her. “You have to know how much it hurts to see you like this. You’re exhausted and stressed. Near breaking, Daya. I can feel it. That’s not the fierce, strong woman who saved my life.”
His voice was so sweet, his hand on her so gentle, she wanted to shatter and let him pick up the pieces. She’d been alone for so long. The lure of sharing her burdens, her life, with someone—with him—was more than she could take.
“Tell me the truth. Is it me? Is my presence driving you out on these long hunts where you’re stressing and not sleeping? I can leave. I’d never want to do that to you.”
“It’s not you.”
Silent tears tracked down her face, startling her to pull away from him. The few times she’d cried had been long ago, when her parents had died and then again when Draven had been taken from her. Wiping away the emotion, she stared at her wet fingertips in surprise.
Raiden’s fingers stroked her cheek as he brushed the tears away. His eyes were full of worry bound by something much stronger than casual concern. Her heart hammered at the sight of something sure to cause them both untold pain.
“Will you do something for me?” he asked.
She nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to, but unable to deny him.
“Give me one full day. When you wake up tomorrow, until the dawn of the next day. You need a break, and I want you to let me give you that before you leave again. We won’t talk about secrets, or the future, or my memory.
” He smiled in the playful way she couldn’t help but adore and used the phrase she always used when he was in distress from his injuries or nightmares.
“Just breathe with me. Will you do that?”
“Okay.”
A single day couldn’t change all that much, and the mountain could reach out to her if there was a problem. Her hand settled over the long scar on his chest. She didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend a day together without interference from his injuries or her hunt. Just one day.