Joden watched as Kalisa’s eyes flooded with awareness, then narrowed with loathing, focusing on him. “Lord of Light, spare me,” she rasped. “A Seer.” She coughed as she struggled to lift her head from the pillow.

“Auntie,” Mya moved, supporting her and offering a cup of water. “Save your strength,” she urged.

“G-g-guardian,” Joden struggled with the word. “Y-y-you m-m-must—”

“Must?” Kalisa glared at him, ignoring Mya. “Who are you to say ‘must’ to me? A Seer newly come to power,” she scoffed, and then cleared her throat. “Have you come to scold me? Berate me?” Kalisa’s lip curled as she spoke. “I will not aid you, Firelander. Or the stupid child at your side.”

Gasps rose around him, but Joden stayed focused on Kalisa. “Y-y-your oath as G-g-guardian re-re-requires you r-r-release y-y-your charges,” Joden fought to slow his words and get his tongue out of the way. “O-o-or you will w-w-wander the snows, l-l-lost—” he drew a breath, trying to finish his thought. She’d wander lost in her own hate.

“Who are you to tell me what my oath requires?” Kalisa’s eyes raged at him, spit foaming in the corners of her lips. “Who are you to tell me, a Guardian of Xy, anything?”

“Xy-xy-xyson,” Joden could barely force out the word.

“Xy-xy-xyson,” Kalisa mocked him, then her lip curled. “Bastard always was a meddler.” Her face crumpled in pain. “If he’d only left us alone—” she hacked again, as if her pain caught in her throat.

“Drink,” Mya urged, but Kalisa pushed the cup away, water slopping over the sides.

“I have warded my charges for years, watching over the generations, day after day, month after month,” Kalisa’s eyes filled with tears. “Weary decade after decade, waiting for one to bear the sign. Every son, every daughter in my line, but my warrior blood faded through the generations.”

Anser was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Auntie, how long have you lived?”

“Cheesemakers.” Disdain dripped from Kalisa’s words. She snarled at Anser and Mya. “All of them. None bear the gift and never will.”

“Auntie,” Anser said, straightening his spine. “You don’t mean that.”

Kalisa stared at Lara. “But your babes, now. Your children and those that will follow—”

Lara, pale and trembling, drew herself up. Keir was behind her. He stepped forward. “What about our children?” he demanded.

“They were born on the night the power returned,” Kalisa’s eyes grew distant, and her voice dropped to the barest whisper. “Too early to know, too early to tell, but they may bear the gift.”

“She had a fit that night,” Mya whispered. She sat on the bed, her arm wrapped around Kalisa’s hunched back. “On the night of the royal births.”

Amyu shifted next to Joden, stepping forward closer to the bed. “Do you mean the golden light?” she asked. “I can see it.”

Kalisa snarled, “I know. I can see it in you, child. You have the gift.”

Amyu leaned forward. “Please, Elder, show me. I can learn to—”

“I swore an oath,” Kalisa trembled with rage. “Never to use it again, never to touch what was left. I could take up the power, rid myself of this withering, aged—” She coughed again holding up her swollen hands. She curled her lip at Eln and Lara. “Joint cream and teas. Bah.” She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. “I can’t, I can’t—”

“But I can,” Amyu started.

Kalisa screamed. Joden reached out to steady Amyu as she flinched back, his hands on her shoulders, wishing he could shield her from this.

“You?” Kalisa shrieked, dropping her hands, rage in her eyes. “Never. Never will a filthy Firelander touch my charges.” She coughed, clutching at her chest. “They were created for Xy and Xy alone. I will keep them safe and free of your taint. Only the pure blood of Xy will fly these skies. Never, never, never—”

She clutched at her heart and gasped out the last few words.

“Uppor w-w-waits,” Joden said. Keir stiffened but Joden kept his eyes on Kalisa.

She paused, then her face crumpled. A long moan came from her, that seemed to take all her breath. “Uppor, beloved,” she wept. Then she gasped, and threw her head back.

Eln moved then, with Lara, to aid Mya. They eased Kalisa back down on the bed. There was a rattle, a struggle for another breath.

“Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon and Stars, be with her in the hour of her death,” Lara recited the words, as Mya started crying.

“Gracious Goddess, Lady of the Moon and Stars,” Anser took up the chant. “Full of forgiveness, forget her offenses and her flaws.”

Kalisa’s breaths were harsher now, and slowing. All attention was on the bed, but Joden caught a glimpse of Keir easing out of the room as all of the Xyians gathered around and continued the chant.

“Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of mercy, see her true repentance.” Lara glanced back at Joden.

He knew he should leave out of courtesy. Amyu walked toward the door. But he held back. When she died, would he see…?

Joden stepped back, toward the door but kept his eyes on the bed.

“Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of kindness, incline your ear to our plea.”

One last harsh breath and then… silence.

“Gracious Lady of the Moon and Stars, full of glory, guide her to a place in your garden

and let her dwell there in peace.” Master Eln closed Kalisa’s eyes, and gently pulled up the sheet to cover her face.

Joden stood silent, but there was nothing to see. No wisp of a ghost, no change in the room.

“I don’t understand,” Mya said, looking lost and bewildered. “Where did that anger come from? She never once spoke of it, never expressed it to us. How could she be so hateful?”

“Some of the herbs I gave her for pain,” Master Eln said quietly. “I didn’t expect they would affect her. I only meant to make her more comfortable.”

Joden caught the glance that Eln exchanged with Lara, and knew Eln’s words were not the truth. But they had the desired effect.

“Oh,” Mya’s face cleared of confusion, and Anser relaxed. “She had a long and fruitful life, but a hard one, seeing to all of our family.”

“Let me get you some tea,” Master Eln gestured to the door. “And then we will see to her.”

“We will lay her in the family burial grounds,” Anser helped Mya rise.

Joden slipped out as Lara stepped forward to make her farewells, with soft words and hugs. Amyu was waiting down the hall. They went out together into the morning air.

The cooler air felt good, but Joden was far more concerned with Amyu. Her face was pained, her eyes anxious. “She hated me,” she said. “How can someone hate like that?”

Joden wrapped an arm around her, offering as much comfort as he could. Amyu leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder.

Keir was a step away, leaning against the outer wall of the building, his arms folded over his chest. “Uppor,” he said. “She knew Uppor? Uppor the Trickster of the Plains?”

Joden nodded.

Amyu looked up, wide eyed. “So old,” she said. “Did her hate build over all those years? Such that she took her secrets to the snows? Did her hate blind her so to our need?”

“And you can see the power?” Keir’s voice was flat and abrupt. “Like a warrior-priest?”

Amyu stiffened in Joden’s arms, then stepped away to face Keir. “I do see the power,” she lifted her chin. “I do not know how to use it, or what it means, but yes. I see it. That does not make me a warrior-priest.”

Keir’s eyes were dark and brooding. He glanced at Joden, then looked down at his boots.

Joden tilted his head slightly. Amyu nodded, and stepped back. “I’ll see to the horses,” she said, and walked off.

Joden waited, looking at Keir, who hadn’t moved, his arms crossed over his chest.

Joden shifted then to take the same position next to his friend.

Keir looked up.

Joden raised his eyebrows.

Keir shook his head. “Her hate was so real,” he said quietly. “She was striking to kill, Joden.”

Joden nodded.

“Keekai once told me that blind hatred of the warrior-priests is a dangerous thing,” Keir added with a rueful shrug. “Well, more than once.”

Joden snorted, remembering the Elder in question.

“And now our children may be touched by—” Keir paused and seemed to swallow hard. “They may be warrior-priests, Joden. I do not know what to think. What to do.”

“I do.” There was a rustle at the door as Lara emerged. She walked to Keir’s side. “We figure this out,” she held up her hand. “Together.”

Keir straightened away from the wall, and put his hand to hers. They laced their fingers together, tight. “Together.” He nodded, his voice strong.

Lara leaned into him for a hug. “I feel so tired. As if drained of all life and hope.”

Keir wrapped his arms around her, and Lara put her head on his chest as she continued, “I knew her all my life, and yet I didn’t really know her at all.”

“Come,” Keir said as Amyu walked up leading the horses. “Let’s return to the castle.”

 

 

Amyu thought the Warprize looked exhausted when they reached the main doors of the castle.

The Warlord looked haunted.

The Warprize lifted her eyes up the spiral staircase with a sigh, and put a foot on the first step. “Let me,” the Warlord said, and swept her up into her arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder.

They were silent as they climbed the stairs to the floor of the royal chambers. The Warlord turned as they reached the doors to their rooms chambers, the Warprize already asleep in his arms. Marcus had opened the doors, and stood waiting.

“I want to think on this,” Keir said quietly to Joden. “Let us talk in the morning. There is much to consider.”

Joden nodded.

Amyu hesitated, but Marcus let the Warlord enter and then caught her eye. “See to him,” Marcus said jerking his head toward Joden. “Return to your duties at the nooning.”

She bowed her head in obedience as Marcus closed the door.

Joden gave her a soft smile, and then yawned. She shook her head, took his arm, and they walked together toward his small chamber.

It was as they had left it. Rumpled bed, blankets tossed on the floor. The fire had burned down and the air was chilled.

Amyu knelt, stirred the coals, and added tinder, waiting for the flames to catch. She could hear Joden moving behind her, removing armor, climbing into bed.

The fire crackled and she added a few logs, careful not to extinguish the flame, knowing full well she was stalling. She wasn’t sure if he’d want her to stay; she wasn’t sure she should if he did. The events of the night had whipped her hard. She ached from the cold, the fear, and emotions that had been poured over her head.

Finally, she rose, and turned. He was naked, seated on the side of the bed, the blankets half over his legs. He looked up at her with tired, brown eyes.

She took a few steps forward, close enough to catch the scent of his skin. “Do you need anything?” she asked, expecting kavage or gurt as his request.

“Y-y-you,” Joden said, taking her hand.