Faelost Read online

  “Tessen, it's not time to stop. You have so much further to go before the song is over.” My mother appeared out of the sleet and fog, clad in a simple white tunic and riding breeches. Her feet were bare and daisies were woven into her dark curls. She knelt next to me and held my hands. A stain spread across her tunic, shifting it from white to crimson.

  “Will we ever be safe again?” I asked as silver thread on an invisible needle stitched together the tattered remnants of my fingers.

  “Honey, we were never safe and never will be. Recognizing that and learning how to adapt is your first step,” Mom said. She kissed my fingers and the silver sutures evaporated, leaving behind smooth, unmarred flesh.

  “First step to what?”

  Mom stood and turned away from me. “To growing up. To accepting yourself. The danger has always been around you, and I'm sorry your eyes were forced open before you were ready to see. Keep them open or your blindness will kill you and everyone around you. Keep going, always keep going, even when it hurts. Don't surrender, my sweet boy. Ever.”

  She fluttered away from me like a slip of parchment caught on an eddy. The snow and sleet transitioned to rain, then all precipitation stopped as the doves became dragons became ducks and flew toward the northern horizon. The gnomes sang an atonal lullaby as they twirled across the freshly tilled field and planted oblong seeds nearly as large as themselves. Winter had become spring, and the harp strings my fingers returned to were once again spun of spider silk instead of thorns.

  I woke on my side with Shan's back flush against my own. I normally couldn't sleep if anyone was touching me, but I supposed my mind made an exception either to ward off the chill or to submit to the fatigue of the previous day. I rolled onto my stomach, untangled myself from the blanket, then rose to my hands and knees to look around. Marita was nestled in the crook of Shan's arm with her palm pressed against his heart. Lumin was comfortably sprawled over Shan's hip.

  Serida hopped over a stone and dipped her face into the narrow stream. The luminous bulb on her tail flashed as she whipped it through the air. I wasn't sure if its purpose was to bring light into dark places or to act as a lure to attract prey. That prey would be need to become larger before long. She was definitely bigger than she was a couple days ago, and I doubted she would fit into my jacket pocket anymore. I wished she could stay pocket-sized forever, but instead I was watching her grow larger and more dangerous by the day. Cute and small Serida was destined to become an apex predator. Would I need to become one along with her?

  For now, I needed to continue forcing myself to enjoy her as the baby she was instead of listening to the frequent and invasive thoughts that worked ever harder at convincing me to resent her existence.

  I reached toward her. “Serida.” She raised her head from the stream and looped her neck back to look at me. Did she know her name, or was she only responding to my voice? “Serida, come here.”

  She hissed and returned her attention to the stream. So much for that.

  “Don't tell me what to do, Mom,” Ragan said in a squeaky voice. He rolled onto his side and fought away the blanket that had twisted itself around his shoulders.

  I sat back on my knees and glared at him. “I was just testing.”

  “She'll figure it out eventually. For now she's a baby, and babies don't listen.” Ragan struggled to sit upright, then stretched his arms over his head. Half of his hair was plastered to his face, and the other half reached for the blue morning sky as if determined to escape his scalp and declare itself a free entity. “Be patient with her. Take the time to teach her, and reward her when she listens. Start with one little trick or command and build up from there.”

  “I'm still not sure if she's more like a fancy lizard or more like a person.” I beckoned again. “Serida, come here.”

  This time, she did. She scurried up my leg and chest to sit on my shoulder. Her long tail wrapped around my neck as she licked dew drops from her front feet. Was feet the right word? Her front feet looked more like clawed hands, with four fingers and an opposable thumb each. Was that common for reptiles? I had no idea. I'd never taken the time to examine lizard feet before. We had plenty of them in Jadeshire, but their anatomy was never of interest to me so I mostly ignored them and tried not to step on them.

  “She's not a lizard, Tessen,” Ragan said. He popped his neck as he looked over our companions. We were the only ones awake. He rubbed at a knot in his shoulder as he returned his attention to me. “Dragons aren't lizards. They're not people, but they're not reptilian. They're warm-blooded, which I hope you've noticed by now from touching her. They're smarter than any dumb lizard, and some say wild dragons have their own language. I suppose if anything, they're more like birds than reptiles. Smart, scaly, dangerous behemoth birds.”

  “I guess dragons are just dragons and I shouldn't be trying to compare them to anything more familiar.” I sighed and stroked Serida's flank. “I have no idea what I'm doing.”

  “I think parenting is something we've gotta learn as we go. We've gotta make mistakes with our kids to learn from them. Them being both the mistakes and the kids. Serida's your kid, whether you like it or not. She'll have a lot to teach you once you're willing to listen.”

  “I'm sorry. I forget sometimes that you're a father.”

  Ragan's jaw clenched as his eyes darted toward the creek. “I was. Not anymore.”

  “No, you still are,” I said. I plucked a large, blue-gray ant off the ground and handed it to Serida. “Death doesn't change that. You'll always be Alon's father. And he was lucky to have you, because you were wonderful with him. Everyone could see that, and everyone knows how much you loved him and still love him.”

  “Stop.” Ragan's head dropped toward his knees and he pressed his fingertips against his temples. “Please. I don't wanna start a day like this.”

  “Everyone acts like it's a bad thing to remember him, but I like remembering him. I don't want to forget him, but that's getting harder since no one will talk to me about him. He existed and he was loved, so why can't we talk about all the good things that happened because of him?”

  Ragan wiped the tears from his eyes before he looked up at me. A faint smile touched his lips. “I don't wanna forget him, either. He deserves better than that. I think . . . I think you're right. I think we do need to talk about him, but not today. I need a chance to rearrange my thoughts on the matter first.”

  I leaned forward so I could touch his knee. “Thank you. Truly. Yana's the only person who seems comfortable discussing the people we've lost, but she never knew him. I just want to be able to say his name because I miss him and I want to feel the good memories. Alon Sylleth Dannis shouldn't be a set of taboo syllables, but a real person, who lived, loved, and was lost way, way too early. He is my brother and your son, always. He will be part of us, always.”

  “That he will.” Ragan closed his eyes for a moment to clear away the collecting tears. He nodded toward Shan. “Seems my protégé and your brother got a little cozy overnight.”

  “Yeah. Good for them,” I said.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, why would it? He's been miserable since the Jarrah thing, so if she makes him happy, great.”

  “Not jealous?”

  “Nope.” I gave Serida another ant. I hated ants and knowing I'd slept on a patch of dirt inhabited by them prickled my skin. I hoped there weren't any in my clothing. “I'm not attracted to her, if that's what you thought. I'm not exactly sure who I'm attracted to, if anyone, but this has made it clear that if I have a type it isn't mysterious elven witches.”

  Ragan's nose twitched as he narrowed his eyes. “I see. Anyway, she's not who she seems to be, so I hope she tells him the truth if she wants anything more than a fling from him, especially considering his status.”

  “Who is she?” I asked. I knew that Marita Wingstorm was an alias brought about by a disownment, but she hadn't given me any indication she wasn't trustworthy. “Oh dear gods, she isn't
a Nightshadow, is she?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who she is? Truly know?”

  “Yeah, but it's not my place to tell you. You need to take that up with her yourself once she–”

  Shrieks and howls pierced the air and reverberated through my bones. My companions were off their backs in an instant, reaching for weapons and searching both the sky and the horizons for the source of the cacophony. The horses snorted and stomped at the ground. Whatever was out there, we'd either have to mount the horses and run or stand and fight. There was nowhere to hide in this barren desert.

  The shrieks grew louder. My instinct was to cover my ears, but that wasn't possible while I held my sword ready. Serida scrambled from my shoulder into my hood and I had to adjust my stance to compensate for the slight shift in weight.

  “What is that?” Shan asked. His hands trembled as his grip on his sword hilt tightened.

  “Damned if I know,” Ragan replied. He pointed his axe toward the west. “All I know is it's coming from that way.”

  “Flee or fight, fight or flee? I don't know what I should be doing.”

  “Calm yourself, Shannon. You're not in a sarding cave. Things are easier both to fight and to run from above ground,” Ragan said.

  Shan's uneven breaths settled into a regular, though rapid, pattern. His eyes remained agitated.

  Iefyr's eyes narrowed as he drew back his bow string. “I see them. Two of them. Broad-bodied flying beasts. Not sure yet what they are.”

  “They're cadra,” Rose said quietly.

  “Oh, shit,” Ragan muttered. “Iefyr, I hope you're in good form today. Shoot 'em dead or we're gonna be dead ourselves.”

  “Got 'em,” Iefyr said. His shoulders tensed as he steadied his aim. “Just need them a little closer.”

  The shrieking continued as the cadra flew low over the plains. I could only see them as distant, fuzzy gray blobs, but I had a good idea of what they looked like thanks to a bestiary Shan had recently left on the kitchen table. Cadra were massive and muscular beasts, much larger than horses and rivaling many breeds of adult dragons in size. Silken fur covered their bodies and heavy, feather-tipped wings. They each possessed between two and six cat-like heads, and their tails always numbered the same as their heads. The more heads and tails, the broader and more dangerous the beast. These two looked particularly wide.

  Iefyr whispered something unintelligible and released his arrow. He immediately reached into his quiver and nocked a second, then a third. “Big bastards. Eight heads between them. Nador, light me up.”

  The cadra screamed in pain as the first arrows pierced their hides. Nador grabbed a handful of arrows and dipped their heads into a pouch of shimmering green powder. She ignited the tips as she passed them one by one to Iefyr. He shot them in quick succession, adjusting his aim to the second beast as the first beast fell in a heap of green sparks and dusty flames.

  The second cadra made it just far enough that I could see the pained malice in all ten of its silver-blue eyes. Three of its heads appeared infuriated while the other two revealed feral terror. Iefyr's arrows pierced eyes and shoulders, and finally plunged into the massive double hearts. The cadra's wings failed and it plowed into the ground, sending up a shower of pebbles. It skidded for several yards before coming to rest in the creek. Water pooled behind the dam created by its twitching, burning body.

  “Hate to waste good arrows on greenfire, but sometimes you just have to,” Iefyr said, a mournful note in his voice. He clicked his tongue and grinned at Nador. “Thanks, darling. You've got the best tricks in your arsenal. What's in that one?”

  “Little copper sulfate, little boric acid. Nice, long, hot burn.” Nador kicked at the pebbles and swallowed. “Hey, guys? Can we stop gawking at that ugly son of a bitch and get out of here?”

  “Don't call my mom a bitch,” Iefyr grumbled.

  Nador snorted. “Not you, idiot. The cadra. Don't assume every mention of ugly is about you. You're not that ugly and your mother was a lovely person. For an elf.”

  “More will come.” Rose shivered and pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. “Cadra cannibalize their dead, and the smell of death on the wind will bring them from leagues and leagues away. This isn't so bad, as long as we leave quickly. Iefyr's aim is true and now that we've seen them, we have a better idea of where we are.”

  “Where might that be?” I asked. Shan repeatedly bumped my arm as I returned my sword to its sheath.

  “North of the Harmon Canyons,” Shan replied. “Cadra won't cross south of there. We're in Northern Bacra, and I imagine everything is going to try to kill us from now on.”

  “No different from what's already happened,” I said.

  “Yes, death lurks everywhere, behind every tree and under every pebble,” Rose said with a smirk. She retrieved an apple from her saddlebag and rolled it between her palms before taking a large bite. “I believe we may be able to narrow our location to more than simply Northern Bacra. Silver-eyed cadra, Sibyl of Concord, swayed canopy trees, golden silt...” She bent and plucked a blade of grass. She chewed the end of it and smiled. “Sweetgrass.”

  Ragan groaned through an exhale. “Oh shit. We're in the gods-damned Faelands.”

  Chapter 16

  Our first priority was getting away from the dead cadra. The wind blew westward, and it wasn't long before a new round of shrieks arrived from the same direction as the first two beasts. I hoped any new cadra would be too interested in devouring their fallen family members to come after us.

  After an hour of running the horses over unstable pebbles, we came to a grassy plain. The air smelled of sweet mint and the occasional rabbit or bird peeked above the swaying grass. Iefyr shot and field dressed several, enough to supply us with a small feast if we made it to a place where we could sustain a campfire. There was nothing to burn where we were.

  Hours and hours of flat green expanse eventually gave way to small, gently rolling hills as heavy gray clouds gathered overhead. Another hour and wind-bowed trees came into view. A wave of rain was visible to the west, and it appeared to be traveling in our direction.

  Ragan slowed Sprite and circled to gather us together. He pointed toward a sparse cluster of trees on a nearby knoll. “There. Let's get over to that copse and set up some tarps before the rain sets in.”

  “Do you think the cadra will come after us?” I asked.

  “Nah.” Rose swatted a fly away from her twitching ear, then crossed her arms over her chest. “They're lazy brutes under all that ferocity. They would have eaten their dead and gone off to sleep. Don't lose your guard, though. There are more dangerous things than cadra in this corner of the world.”

  “Yeah, there's Iefyr,” Shan said with a laugh.

  “Hey!” Iefyr said as he paced his horse with Shan's. “I heard that. You're lucky I'm dangerous or your pretty little hands would've had to take on those things close up.”

  “Didn't say it was a bad thing that you're dangerous. You're just dangerous. And useful. Thanks for shooting down the beasties for us.”

  “And thank you for making me gag earlier when you chowed down a grasshopper like it was a piece of toffee.”

  “Get over it, asshole. Spend a couple months trapped underground and you'll learn that insects make a fine meal. You'll also learn I'm even more dangerous than you.” Shan urged his horse to a canter and rode ahead toward the copse.

  Iefyr rode closer to me. He nodded toward Shan. “I think I offended him. I suppose I'm used to it. Me being alive is enough to offend just about anyone.”

  A light, cool mist touched my face. We'd have to hurry or we'd have trouble finding dry fuel for the fire. I shrugged and said, “You didn't offend him. That was his attempt at humor. He's terrible at it. Almost as terrible as you are at accepting compliments.”

  “I'm not... Oh. I am, aren't I?” Iefyr hopped off his horse, a black orc-bred beast named Rakas, and grabbed the reigns to lead him over the last bit of hill.

  I copi
ed his dismount so I could walk next to him. My hips were sore and stiff, so my gait was slow. “You are. You get defensive about them.”

  Iefyr sighed and shuffled through the long grass. “It's hard to consider a compliment sincere when I've spent thirty years listening to insults. Not from my parents, of course. Their words for me were purely out of love, and I guess that made them see me differently from everyone else. I was this awkward thing stuck in the middle—too small and weak to be a proper orc and too big and ugly to be an elf. My parents were already dead by the time I found something I was truly skilled at, and all I heard from strangers and acquaintances alike was mocking. Compliments make me uncomfortable, probably because they make me feel as if I'm being lied to, and they contradict how the world has taught me to see myself. What about you, what's your story? I see nothing but uncertainty whenever anyone has anything good to say about you.”

  “Oh, that's easy,” I said. We were nearly at the copse and the rain wall was only two hills away. Shan, Ragan, and Marita were already busy setting up shelter while Nador and Rose dashed about the trees, gathering fallen debris for kindling. “I have my own history of insults. Bastard child, fat little nothing, and they mistook my silence for having a simple mind. I'm the second bastard child out of three for my mother, each with a different father of a different race. Long story, and she's not ashamed of it. Was when she was young, not anymore. Shan and I are only a year apart. His paternity wasn't made public until Daelis legitimized him.

  “My father was human with a touch of elf in his ancestry, an orphaned lowborn thief who was trying to make things right because he loved my mother. He died when I was a couple weeks old, but no one knew that. They thought he stole everything she had and ran, though in reality he was the one who was stolen from us. I grew up being called the bastard son of a thief and a whore, usually behind my back, but sometimes overtly. They said it was obvious that I was nothing, an unwanted mistake that Mom got stuck with because she was a stupid little harlot. That was their only explanation for an eighteen year old girl having two illegitimate children in the span of a year. No one expected much from me and they assumed I'd follow my father into a criminal life, but that wasn't me. Never even had the urge to do anything illegal. I remember Mom saying, 'Don't let them get to you. You're the only one who knows who you are, and you're the only one who gets to choose who you will be. Don't become an insult or a low expectation, become Tessen.' I'm still working on that. Sometimes it's enough to know that she loves me and doesn't regret my birth anymore, but sometimes all of those other voices threaten to drown her out.”