The Adani Chronicles: Birthright

The woods south of the Sapphire Lake were deathly silent and black as ebony. The moon was shadowed, and even the stars seemed dim, what he could see of them through the thick forest canopy. He ran, uncertain where he would find what—who—he was looking for, but knowing they were near at hand, likely watching him even now. The thought froze his heart in his chest, the breath in his lungs, and made his knees feel weak with fear. He hated himself for it, but there it was: he was terrified.

His stomach lodged itself in his throat as he stumbled, a tangled tree root holding tight to his foot, and fell. Branches whipped his face as he fell and his hands struck first, skidding painfully along the undergrowth. He found himself sprawled in the dirt and dead leaves.

Tanar sat up and ran a shaking hand down his face. It was wet; whether from blood or tears, he couldn’t tell. His face and hands were both throbbing, and the foot that had gotten tangled in the root was screaming in agony. Still the forest remained stubbornly silent, aside from his own trembling breath, and still the stars remained faraway and dim. It was dark and cold and he was completely alone.

“Where are you?!” Tanar shouted, only half-expecting an answer. The silence seemed to swallow up his desperate call, like a living, insidious thing, and it became impossibly darker.

“I am here.” The response was far closer to his right ear than he expected.

Tanar flinched away, scrambled back on sore hands and rump. He still could not see anything. His chest ached with the cold and his own fear.

The voice—Râza—chuckled darkly. “You are looking quite…out of sorts, my friend.”

The designation made rage bloom hot in Tanar’s chest. “I am no friend of yours,” he growled. In an effort to restore his dignity in front of this, his enemy, he stood as smoothly as he could. It was not as smoothly as he’d have liked; his ribs screamed and his ankle collapsed, forcing him to do a sort of hop to stay upright. He straightened, the effort leaving him dizzy. “I have the information you…requested.” He was careful to keep most of his disgust out of the word.

Râza stepped out from the heart of the shadow, gracefully and in no apparent hurry. He raised a single thin eyebrow, and the merchant was certain he had never seen such a simple expression look so threatening. The Val’gren Chief lifted his chin slightly. “Tell me.”

Tanar took a deep, steadying breath.

Aeos, have mercy upon me.

“The Princes are in the city. I have seen them.” He swallowed the fat lump in his throat that was making it hard to breathe. “I overheard the guards talking. The Eloni won’t give them up.” Râza didn’t look surprised; indeed he barely reacted at all, which made Tanar even more nervous. He shifted his weight slightly, wincing at his still-screaming ankle. “They—they’re going to try to spirit them out of the city, at midnight. With an armed guard of their very best.”

Midnight came dark and cool that night; the summer was well and truly underway and the weather was mild even in the mid-northern mountains. The locusts had ceased their song hours prior, and the city was settled in for the night, so it was quiet when the princes met Jorlan and Nenna at the city’s southern gates. Ryn and Kota arrived a few moments after them, emerging from the late night shadows like wraiths. Ryn was dressed to travel; a brand new cloak over leather and linen, quiver full of new arrows to match the new bow strung across her back opposite her echowood staff. The staff itself boasted a new feature, as well; the palm-sized gray stone he’d noticed her fiddling with lately wedged tightly inside the twisted dark wood at the head. He wondered about it, but figured it was neither the time nor place to ask.

Later, he resolved.

The commander acknowledged them with a nod then gestured for them to follow. He began to lead them along the wall, calling a quiet greeting to a watch guard as they passed. No one else spoke as they walked, not until they entered a nondescript, stone...well, building was a bit of an overstatement, Evin thought. ’Twas more like a hutch, he supposed, located between a cheery inn’s personal garden and the ancient granite parapet, a small structure with one locked stone door. Jorlan pulled an iron key from his pocket and unlocked it, and Nenna helped him swing it open.

The inside was dark and still, but the wood elves lit two torches in stands beside the door and the light provided Evin with a look at the inside of the structure. There was a single room, no doors, no windows. Only a set of winding stairs set into the floor—old stone, but clean and sturdy. The elves didn’t hesitate, leading their charges down and locking the doors behind them.

Tanar bit back a yelp of pain as the chimaera beneath him lurched, jarring his aching head, his sprained ankle, and everything in between. He pulled at the rough ropes that bound him to the animal, wishing desperately they hadn’t dragged him along for the massacre he was surely about to witness. Râza swore his family was nearby, but refused to tell him more until his information was verified and the Princes were dead.

As a citizen of Laendor, Tanar was fully aware of the consequences of his betrayal. He knew the kingdom’s darling Crown Prince Gunnar was dead, knew King Eirik’s nephew Brandt had been crowned soon after, and knew he and his younger brother were the last of their generation within the royal bloodline. The Queen was long-since dead, and neither the King nor his sister had exhibited any interest in remarrying; Tanar was acutely aware that he was not only robbing the Kingdom of its only Heirs, but also a widowed mother of her only sons.

Nevertheless, what choice had he?

Images of his lovely wife and his sweet daughter filled his mind; Brenna and Kesi, his heart and soul. He allowed himself memories of happy times, quiet nights in their village home, songs beside traveling fires, sightseeing in their many exotic destinations on journeys to sell his wares…it was a good life.

He’d had to choose between King and family, and Aeos help him, he chose his family. He would do it again, he decided, though he wondered how he’d feel in just a short while, looking down upon the bodies of the young princes.

The Val’gren mounted in front of him on the chimaera stayed the creature with a single gesture against its flank. It stopped with a huff, and Tanar tried to lean over to see what was happening. Râza had evidently called the halt, and was silently directing his dozen or so companions to strategic positions along both sides of the road just outside Thaliondris’ Southern Gate. All was quiet, for now, and the dark was a thick velveteen blanket over their party.

Tanar squirmed, wincing at the pain and his own anxiety. He could barely even feel his ankle anymore, so cold and afraid was he.

“Still,” the orange-eyed Val’gren against his front hissed. He wondered if this was the same monster who had so gleefully tortured his daughter with that strange pain-spell a few days ago. He swallowed his rage with some difficulty.

It’s almost over, he told himself for the thirtieth time in as many minutes. Almost done.

The sound of thundering hooves came to them first, and then Tanar could see a small party of heavily-armed people riding toward them upon the road. There were five of them, accompanied by a large black shadow that loped along beside the white mare near the back. He squinted, trying to see what it was, and his heart leapt into his throat when he realized it was a lynx…a large wild cat beside a woman dressed in black.

Leyna, his mind supplied helpfully, and suddenly he was reconsidering everything. He hadn’t realized the Guardian of Travelers was with the Princes, and while it was one thing to turn over a monarch you’d never met and who cared nothing for you, it was quite another to betray the folk hero your daughter—and every other young lass in the country—idolized. Especially when she’d saved your life not so long ago.

Brenna. Kesi.

Tanar bit back the warning that rose in his throat.

The stairs wound down for what seemed like ages, narrow and spiraling, the light from Jorlan’s torch casting shadows that danced along the ancient stone walls. Eventually they emerged into another small room, roughly circular like the one far above it, but far more wild. Here, moss grew along the cracked stones, and the floor was uneven and damp around a small pool about ten feet across. Evin raised a single eyebrow, nearly bursting with curiosity as to what the plan of escape was. He’d expected to be led to one of the city gates and spirited away, but this…was not something he had seen coming. He wasn’t sure what they were doing.

“We have a spell that will suspend normal breathing long enough for us to get outside the city,” Jorlan started to explain, and Evin understood all at once what they were doing here in this cold little room.

Their way out was underwater.

“Will the cat understand and follow?” Nenna asked shortly, fixing those odd lilac eyes on Ryn. Their guide nodded once.

“He will.”

Nenna turned back to Jorlan, who grinned. “Very well then,” he gestured to the pool. “I shall lead, Nenna will take up the rear.”

Evin moved quietly behind Kota, instinctively placing Ryn and the lynx between him and Brandt, with the elves at fore and aft. When they’d arranged themselves, Jorlan nodded to Nenna, who moved to Evin first. She placed her two fingers at his temple and murmured a single phrase in their strange, flowery language. Evin jerked slightly as a sensation cool and smooth, like water, seemed to settle just under his skin, spreading over his body and then disappearing. He blinked, noticing Ryn shudder as she received the same treatment. After the initial shock of it, he rolled his shoulders, noting with some trepidation that he felt no different.

Kota and Brandt were much calmer in their reception of the spell, though Kota sneezed, and when Nenna finished casting it on herself and Jorlan, she moved to the back of their makeshift line. The commander saluted then, and dived into the small pool; he disappeared beneath the surface and did not rise.

Brandt turned to look at him, and Evin flashed him a wholly insincere smile that communicated his thoughts without words.

Looks fun.

Brandt cocked an eyebrow—you’re a liar, little brother—and splashed in after the lieutenant. He too, went under and stayed down.

Evin figured this was a bad time to mention how much he hated being submerged in water. As Kota’s head slipped beneath the surface, right on Ryn’s heels, he felt his stomach tighten and his palms begin to sweat. Shaking his head to clear it, Evin forced himself to step to the very edge of the water. He looked down.

It was mostly dark in the stone room—the only light came from the torches, which Jorlan and Nenna had placed in small brass braces near the door when they entered—but the water seemed to glow with a dim radiance coming from somewhere deeper. Perhaps there was a light below, or perhaps it was an effect of the spell, making it possible to see underwater, Evin wasn’t sure.

Either way, he needed to move. Nenna was staring. He took two more steps before the hard stone suddenly disappeared and the water closed over his head.

Tanar couldn’t prevent the tear that slipped down his cheek as the first black arrow sailed through the air with a quiet hiss. It struck one of the princes—a golden-headed figure in the midst of the group who carried a pair of war axes slung over his back—and he fell without a sound. The rest of the group paused for a split second, then a howl of rage echoed across the wood at the same time the lead Elon shouted an order, and the entire group, save the dead prince’s white stallion, tore off down the dirt road.

Right toward their ambush.

This time the merchant couldn’t stop the cry of dismay that clawed its way free of his throat. Intent upon his prey, the Val’gren before him didn’t even shush him, directing his mount into a collision course with the mare Tanar was certain carried the Guardian. The lynx kept pace with the mare, though it likely could have easily outstripped it, and as they drew closer, Tanar could see the white of its teeth bared in a snarl.

The chimaera pounced at the same time the Val’gren let loose a fearsome war cry, and Tanar squeezed his eyes shut entirely, unable to watch.

Chimaera met big cat with a crash of bone and teeth. It jarred him so badly he was thrown forward, smacking his forehead on his captor’s hard leather armor. His bound hands afforded him no balance, but kept him astride the creature, and his entire leg seized in agony. Tanar screeched, equal parts pain and anguish, at the sound of steel meeting steel, but he refused to open his eyes. He heard a lynx’s snarl, then a yelp, and then they were running full-out, the Val’gren hunter hissing rage-filled spells. Tanar dared a look.

They were chasing the group, the famed Eloni mounts showing the speed for which they were so renowned. The lynx was not beside the Guardian; dead or injured, he presumed, but left behind either way. The woman was turned in her saddle, firing arrows steadily that bounced harmlessly to either side. Tanar found himself urging her on silently, hoping beyond hope one of those long arrows would strike the orange-eyed monstrosity mounted in front of him.

The horses pulled further ahead, and Tanar could see there were three left now—a dark-haired man with a bow, an Eloni with a bear-paw standing out white against her face, and the Guardian—but Râza called an order, and the chimaeras somehow gathered yet more speed, slowly closing the distance between Val’gren and their targets.

As they ran, Tanar prayed like he’d never prayed before.

The water was neither dark nor cold, which helped keep Evin’s fear at a much more manageable level. I can do this, he decided, and dived to meet the figures he could see moving below him. As he drew closer, he could make out the forms of Jorlan, Ryn, Kota, and his brother; the latter gave him a thumb up to confirm his welfare. Evin nodded to Brandt, startling when Nenna appeared behind him; he hadn’t heard her enter the pool. She gestured to Jorlan, who turned and began to swim. Everyone followed.

They moved through the water at a good clip—the elves were obviously more acclimated to such exercise, because they showed no signs of slowing even when his muscles were screaming in protest—but the journey took long enough for Evin to get a look around. All around, spindly plants swayed to and fro in the currents, black against the dim glow of the water. It didn’t take long for Evin to realize the light wasn’t coming from the water itself, but from the figures inside it; that is to say, they themselves were glowing, from the spell Nenna had cast. It was a brilliant use of magic, Evin thought; it kept the swimmer warm, calm, and able to see, while allowing the caster to only bewitch one person, rather than the entire body of water.

It wasn’t much longer before Jorlan turned them upward, and their heads broke the surface with a splash. Evin sucked air into his lungs, the spell broken as soon as his face met cool night air. He shook the water from his eyes and moved toward the edge of the pool, examining his surroundings as he did so.

They’d emerged from a natural pool inside a large cavern. Unlike the stone building back in Thaliondris, this one was left completely alone by the Eloni, dark and damp and full of natural mineral formations. Jorlan led them through a dizzying maze of tunnels before they finally reached the entrance, a tiny opening mostly obscured by vines from the outside. Evin had to marvel at its success as a secret passageway: even if one managed to find the entrance to the cavern, the tunnels would prevent them finding the pool—and even if they found the pool, which might be only one of several, there was no indication of any underground tunnel or entrance into the city.

It was brilliant in its simplicity. He smiled as he wrung out his shirt. They were lucky it was summer. Brandt was saying goodbye to Jorlan and Nenna, and Ryn was checking her gear one more time—he saw her compulsively examine the gray stone at the head of her staff. Her long fingers lingered there, thoughtfully, and Evin found himself wondering what she was thinking about.

He would ask her tomorrow, he thought, as the wind shifted and he shivered. Brandt gestured, and with a heartfelt gesture of respect and thanks to the elves, Evin followed his brother into the long night.

Tanar had no idea how either the horses or the chimaeras were managing such speed with no rest. They had been running for what had to be hours by now; the sky to the east was just beginning to lighten, the smallest amount, when they finally caught the lagging Eloni warrioress. A chimaera near the front of their group pounced with a final burst of speed, and Tanar shouted hoarsely, a useless, helpless “no!” but it was lost in the victorious war-cries of the dozen Val’gren hunters watching.

Cries that went silent in half a heartbeat.

Just as the first rays of dawn sprang over the horizon, and the chimaera’s outstretched claw struck the snow-white horse, all three of their targets winked out of existence with a burst of bright light and the unmistakable chime of magic. Tanar’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as the Val’gren pulled their mounts up short and simply stared at the spot their quarry had been. The only sound that could be heard was that of the morning birds beginning to sing around them, and the chimaeras breathing heavily below them, tired out from their run.

Tanar couldn’t pinpoint the emotions that coursed through his chest; confusion melted into joy as he realized his information had been wrong, thank all the Astra he’d been wrong…and then joy cooled and hardened into terror as he realized:

His information had been wrong.

Brenna. Kesi.

By the Light.

Suddenly more afraid than he’d ever been in his life, Tanar chanced a look at Râza. The Val’gren Warmaster was looking straight at him, rage obvious in the way darkness gathered round him like a living thing. It swirled about his form until he was invisible, save for that pair of menacing scarlet eyes, still fixed on Tanar’s now-bloodless face. Pressure built in the air around them, Tanar could feel it, like the buzz in the air before a lightning storm; he squirmed on the back of the chimaera as all the hair on his body rose to stand on end.

“Please—“ he managed.

The power exploded, black cloud dissipating around Râza, and there were a multitude of small plunks! around him as everything went deathly silent. Confused, Tanar looked about, stomach dropping as he realized the sound was that of every bird in the vicinity falling dead from blackened trees. His eyes widened and moved back to Râza, who had dismounted and was walking toward him slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He suddenly knew what was about to happen, like he knew the sun would rise fully within the hour. There was no question, it was simply inexorable fact.

“It appears our friend’s information was…faulty,” Râza spoke, and his voice turned the blood in Tanar’s veins to ice. He shivered, pulling at his bonds instinctively, though some part of him knew it was useless. “Nevertheless, I am, above all, a man of my word. It’s time to reunite him with his family.”

Tanar froze. His chest hurt. He wasn’t breathing, he couldn’t remember how.

It didn’t matter anyway.

Râza stepped up close, white lips curling into a smile.

“Aufero.”

It was the last word Tanar ever heard.