Even knowing the way, it took time. It was easier, being familiar with the path, but she still took care.

It was also easier not having to worry about Joden… but she wasn’t going to let herself think about that. Or dwell on the pain. She concentrated on her feet and the path. Amyu wasn’t going to risk a broken limb or worse, losing the Ring or the Shards in a fall.

But after a few nights in the open she came to the small cave. The dried sticks were still out front of the opening, and the inside was still clear and clean of debris.

The scorch marks were still on the ceiling.

Amyu put aside any memories of Joden, resolving to lock them away, and to focus on other things. She made camp, setting out her gear and her bedroll, and got a fire started for hot kavage. It was early yet; she’d hunt later, to supplement her dried meat and gurt supplies.

For now, she settled on her bedroll, dragged her pack toward her, and with a deep breath she pulled out the battered lantern.

She had an idea, and now was the time to try it. Away from prying eyes and questions she really didn’t have answers for. It had been something Dunstan had said.

‘No fire, or any other element that I know of, could re-forge the blade.’

She set the small lantern down in front of her, and sat cross-legged, staring at it intently.

No element he knew of.

What if there was another element?

She held her breath, feeling a tingle through her body at the very thought. All her life, she’d been taught by the theas of the four elements that ruled the Plains.

Was it possible the golden light was an element that no one around her could see, or touch, or use?

Was it possible she was special?

Part of her rejected that thought in an instant. But part of her… part of her dared to think it.

Kalisa had said that she’d foresworn the power, and that meant that she’d used it at some point. As hard as it was for Amyu to believe, Kalisa had somehow seen it in her.

Amyu hugged herself as she stared at the lantern. ‘If you want to ride a horse,’ she whispered. ‘You have to get up on the horse.’

She closed her eyes and summoned the memory of being in the dark. Alone. A creature outside, with claws and fangs and…

Light. She needed light. But to set her weapons down, to fumble with flint and striker was unthinkable.

Another stick cracked, as if the creatures were gathering themselves up to rush her.

Light, her mind screamed, but she crouched low, frozen in fear.

Small golden sparkles started to gather at her feet.

Amyu opened her eyes.

Golden sparkles danced before her face, glittering little stars.

She breathed out, and then sucked a breath in astonishment. She reached out, and her hand tingled as if they were not there and yet really there at the same time.

The gold gathered on her fingertips, and traced her movements as she moved her fingers.

“Here,” she whispered. She lowered her hand, and put the sparkles in the lantern. “Stay here.”

The sparkles fell off her fingers and gathered into a ball in the lantern, glowing brightly. More sparkles joined them, until the light, the power all rested within.

A deep sense of satisfaction washed over her, but then her stomach rumbled and brought her back to reality.

She closed the small metal door, and light gleamed out from the metal. “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay for me.” She stood, taking up her bow and arrow.

When she returned, dead rabbits in hand, the cave still glowed with the light of the lantern.

Amyu set about spitting the meat, but she couldn’t help the excitement building inside. She could use it, control it, see it. What else could she do? She bit her lip, thinking, remembering the light, the fire and heat and—

She happened to look up. The scorch marks were above her, glaring down, the black a stark contrast to the stone in the light of the lantern.

Amyu settled back on the bedroll, and watched the flames of a perfectly normal fire sear the meat. With regret, she tamped down her excitement. Fire was an element. It was both friend and foe. A force to be used, a danger to be feared. That was true of the other elements as well.

She’d go slow. Be cautious. Wary.

But the excitement was still with her when she stretched out to sleep. Her stomach was full, the lantern gleamed, and her dreams were filled with flying.

 

 

The sparkles had faded within the lantern during the night, but that didn’t dim Amyu’s excitement. She packed up her gear, wrapped the remaining meat for her nooning and started up the path, light of step and heart.

Until she rounded a bend and memory struck her like a stone.

Joden standing there, bruised and battered, his eyes crinkled in the corners by his smile. He pulled leaves from the tangles in her hair, standing close enough that she could smell the scent on his skin. He smelled of crushed pine needles, moist earth and spice. As he pulled at the tangles he let the leaves and sticks fall to the ground. They both started to laugh as they stood there, worn, weary, and alive.

He took care around the feather she had tied into her hair, carefully arranging it in front of her ear. His eyes warm and strong and—

It was like a physical blow to her heart. Amyu stopped in the path, pressed her hands to her chest, and let the pain wash over her.

Tears threatened. It had been the right decision to set him free, but her heart could barely beat in her chest. She made the choice; they both made the choice. Joden of the Hawk must become what he was destined to become and she—

She tipped her head back, and looked up at the mountain. At the trees swaying green in the breeze; at the blue sky above.

How in the name of the skies above and the earth below had that man become so important to her in such a short time?

Amyu stood for a while, letting herself feel all the anguish and heartbreak the memory brought. Then she dropped her hands to her side.

She had her own path.

She wasn’t going to sit and weep and waste away for lack of him. She was going to keep moving. Keep breathing. Find her own way. The pain of losing him would fade. Amyu took a step along the trail and then another, dashing away any tears.

The pain would fade.

But the regret? The regret would settle deep, forever in her bones.

 

 

She didn’t make camp inside the tunnel-like cave where she’d found Joden. Instead, she went off toward the side, where she’d hunted game previously. Her thought was two-fold. If something went wrong, her gear and supplies would be safely out of the way.

If the ceremony she performed killed her, there would be evidence of her presence for searchers.

While that wasn’t the most positive of thoughts, it was practical.

She spent the rest of the day cleaning out the large cave of debris, and the remains of their campsite. She wasn’t sure of the reasons, but it felt right, and important somehow. She focused on that.

She didn’t think on Joden.

A ceremony invoking the elements was usually conducted under the open sky. But as she swept the cave clear, it felt more important to face the wall at the back. She compromised by placing herself at the halfway point between the back of the cave and the open ledge.

That night, she hunted and ate, and then bathed in the chill waters of the small stream. On the Plains, she might do a ceremony like this naked but it was not a requirement. While she wished to honor the elements she invoked, she felt more comfortable armed and armored. So that was decided.

She lay down on her pallet, under the blankets, blinking at the night sky and thinking she would never get to sleep. She started to rehearse again all that she planned to do and say… only to wake at the first light of dawn.

She dressed, ate a quick meal, and then took up her backpack. She made the climb back up to the cave, and then stood on the ledge looking out. The moment was here, and she was quivering with what she hoped was excitement.

But it could well be fear.

The stone floor remained clear. She’d worried to death about the positioning of the bowls, finally deciding on a circular pattern for the five bowls, each an equal distance from the other, the sword in the center.

She set out everything she would need off to the side, and then pulled the leather bag from the pack. The shards clinked together as she pulled the hilt from the bag. She oriented everything to the looming wall at the end of the tunnel, treating that as north. The hilt she set down so that the handle pointed west, and then spilled the shards out.

It took her longer than she expected to piece the blade together as Ismari had done. The stone floor was cold and hard under her knees. It was almost the nooning before she finished. Sunlight was starting to creep in to the mouth of the cave, dispelling the darkness.

Amyu settled back on her heels, and studied the arrangement. It was as good as she could make it.

She thought about returning to camp, to rest and eat, but her nerves wouldn’t let her. She’d done all she could, planned all she could, and she’d wait not a moment longer.

She raised her hands in supplication. “Elements,” she cried out. “Hear my plea.”

The sound echoed against the walls. Amyu swallowed hard, and reached for the first bowl. “Earth, element of the Plains,” she called out, holding up the bowl and crumbling clean soil into it. “I beg your presence, as witness to my plea.” She trembled inside but kept her voice steady. “Find me worthy of aid.”

She replaced the bowl and reached for the next.

“Water, element of the Plains,” she intoned as she drizzled water into the bowl. “I beg your presence, as witness to my plea. Find me worthy of aid.”

The next bowl held crushed green leaves she dropped onto a live coal. A small tendril of smoke arose as she invoked the element of air. Then the bowl where she placed fresh tinder on the coals, and a tiny flame sprang up, dancing in the bowl. Each time she invoked the element. Each time, she asked to be found worthy.

And last, the very last, she dared to break all tradition.

She held up the bowl and breathed the words. “Magic,” she announced, and her words seemed to echo off the stone walls. “Element of the Plains. I beg your presence, as witness to my plea. Find me worthy of aid.”

She gathered sparkles of power at her finger tips, and shook them into the bowl. The sparkles fell lightly, rolling around below the rim. This bowl, she placed at the top of the pattern, at the point farthest from herself.

The sword lay in the center, still shattered.

Amyu put on the Ring of Xy, and held her hands out, facing the sword. She took a deep breath, and then started the familiar chant. “Fire, water, earth, air,” she paused, then again broke every tradition she knew. “Magic. Hear my plea.”

The air around her crackled, and the hairs on her arms rose.

“Water, earth, air, magic, fire,” she said. “Hear my plea.” She continued, moving each element through the chant, honoring each in turn, weaving magic into her words. She’d honestly thought she’d be struck down by now for her daring, but it hadn’t happened.

Yet.

The air around her seemed charged with excitement that might have just been her imagination. Only one way to find out.

“Death of earth, birth of water,” she started then paused. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The bowl of magic was brighter, and the bowl of water held a vibration that had not been there.

Amyu continued, struggling to keep her voice steady. “Death of water, birth of air.”

The golden sparkles swelled, and the column of smoke trembled. Something was happening.

Her voice rose, and her words spilled out faster and faster. “Death of air, birth of fire,” she gulped.

It wasn’t her imagination. The magic was growing within the bowl, and the other elements were responding. Her heart started to beat a wild rhythm.

“Death of fire, birth of earth.” She cried out in her excitement.

The ritual words were completed, but everything seemed to hang in the air, suspended, waiting. Waiting for her to invoke—

Amyu cried out what was in her heart, without thought. “Magic,” she cried, putting everything she dreamed in the words. “Weave a new pattern!”

The magic responded. A shaft of golden light shot out from its bowl to the bowl of fire. The flame within shot higher and brighter.

The magic shot out again, striking the bowl of water with a ringing sound. The water swirled, and rose, a pillar to match the flame.

The magic hit the bowl of earth with a deep ringing sound. It shook her bones.

A roaring sound filled Amyu’s ears. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, her arms outstretched in her plea.

Air now, and the bowl rocked as the smoke swirled like a twisting wind storm, surrounding the sword. The light crackled with energy.

“Elements, all, hear my plea,” Amyu cried out. “Restore that which has been shattered.”

The magic shot out, a glorious stream of golden light, and struck her full in the chest. The power flowed into her. Amyu breathed deep, trying to hold it in, trying to bear the pressure in and under her skin. She feared she wouldn’t be able to hold it, but then her eyes dropped to the shattered sword at her feet, and she knew…

She brought her hands together, and threw the magic at the sword.

A burst of heat and gold and light filled the cave, overwhelming and blinding.

 

 

Hanstau jerked in his saddle, catching himself before he fell. His horse snorted tossed its head.

Reness was instantly on alert, scanning the herd around them for a threat. “What?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Hanstau said, staring off in the direction of the sound. “Didn’t you hear it?”

“No,” Reness said. “The herd is not reacting,” she pointed out.

“It was—” Hanstau shook his head. “Remember how I said that using the power seemed noisy? I think someone just—” he stared off in the direction the sound had come from. “Someone just used power. A lot of power.”

“That way?” Reness asked.

Hanstau nodded. “What lies there?” he asked.

Reness snorted in amusement. “City-dweller,” she teased. “That way is north.”

“Xy?” Hanstau asked. They’d been wandering within the safety of the herd for so long, he’d lost all sense of direction. He flushed a bit. All sense of direction, of time, of propriety,

“Xy,” Reness confirmed. “I’ve enjoyed our wandering, Hanstau. But now I think we must move with a purpose.”

Hanstau nodded. “To Xy.”

“To Xy,” she confirmed, and put her horse’s head in that direction. “But don’t think this means there is anything less between us.” She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “I claim you, my city-dweller.”

Hanstau tried to stammer something intelligible out, but no real words came. He settled for blushing.

Reness laughed, and urged her horse to a gallop, leading his by the reins.

 

 

Simus was just settling down to his nooning when Snowfall gasped, dropped her kavage and turned north. He was on his feet in an instant, and the warriors around them took defensive stances.

No sounds, no outcry arose around them. Snowfall was focused on a distant point, off to the north.

Simus took a step closer to his bonded, and waited.

“A flare of power,” Snowfall said. “Far to the north. Would that be Xy?”

“Xy.” Simus sheathed his sword, and the other warriors relaxed around them.

“Lightning Strike?” Simus asked as he bent to get her mug.

Snowfall shook her head. “Too far north for it to be them,” she said absently, squinting off into the distance as if she could see if she just looked hard enough. “But who else could use power like that?”

“You told me that all Plains warriors are tested at the Rite of Ascension,” Simus filled her mug and pressed it into Snowfall’s hands.

“Yes,” Now those grey eyes were focused on him, intent and lovely. Simus took a moment to enjoy their beauty even as he answered the unasked question.

“Have I told you of Amyu?”

 

 

Cadr first knew of it when Lightning Strike jerked in his saddle. He pulled his horse to a stop as the others slid from their saddles, taking out their bowls and shields.

Gilla rode up, whistling for the warcats, who bounded out of the grass to sprawl at the horses’ feet.

“Got it,” Night Clouds cried.

Cadr pressed in, everyone trying to look in the bowl at the same time. He caught a glimpse of a woman’s back. She was kneeling in a cave, before ritual bowls. She cast a quick look behind her, but it was enough.

“Amyu,” Cadr said, grabbing Lightning Strike’s shoulder. “That’s Amyu. That’s Xy.”

They watched as Amyu stood, taking up a strange sword that sparkled blue.

“But where is she?” Sidian asked. “Can you see more?”

Night Clouds nodded, frowning, staring at the bowl.

“Give us room,” Lightning Strike said, and others moved back. Cadr stayed glued to his side. Sidian and Rhys both leaned in closer.

The scene in the bowl shifted to reveal the cave and the mountain side.

“What is—?” Lightning Strike exclaimed.

Sidian started to explain mountains, and caves. Cadr ignored them, kneeling at Night Clouds’ side. “See that,” he pointed, careful not to touch the bowl. “It’s a path.”

Night Clouds nodded, and the scene blurred as it rushed down the mountainside. The trees finally opened up, to show a wide grassy area, filled with large animals.

“What are those?” Lightning Strike asked.

“Cows,” Rhys said. “They’re like large gurtles. I can portal there.” he added.

Cadr looked up at Lightening Strike. “Do we go?”

“We go.”

 

 

Amyu held her position, blinking against the fading glare, waiting for her breath to return. An odd tickle burned between her shoulder blades. She glanced behind herself, but there was no one there.

She turned back, and looked down.

The sword was whole.

“Heyla,” She cried, her voice ringing on the stone walls. But even as the sound faded, she stared at her hands. There was no change, no glow, all seemed as it was, all but the sword.

Giddy with joy, she reached for the sword hilt, almost afraid it would shatter again as she lifted it.

The blade was heavier than she expected, but it was straight and true and so blue within its depths it seemed to glow. She rose to her feet, forgetting everything else in her excitement. With a deep breath, she faced the back wall of the tunnel.

She held the sword up and stretched out her other hand with the Ring of Xy displayed. “Let the protectors of Xy arise to my call!” she proclaimed, and waited, breathless.

Nothing happened.