Kelia choked back a sob as she removed her hands from the Stone.
Her heart raced, thumping dramatically in her chest. This was not unusual when she consulted Arantha, but it was made worse by the unfathomable horror of her latest vision, the same vision she’d been subjected to repeatedly since returning from the Kaberian Mountains.
Perspiration beading on her brow and acid roiling in her stomach, she lurched across the dusty stone floor and out through the narrow entrance, stumbling as she crossed the threshold. She squinted in the light of the morning sun as her eyes adjusted from the dimness of the cave.
She turned to the right, taking in the view of the Ixtrayu village that had been her people’s home for eight centuries. Built directly into the walls of the plateau on either side of the River Ix, it was a sight she’d seen countless times since she was a little girl walking at the side of her mother, Onara. Back then, the sight was welcome, familiar, but with every unhelpful vision she’d had since donning the mantle of Protectress, it felt less and less so. On this day, the comforting babble of the river did nothing to calm her turbulent thoughts.
Rather than cross the nearest bridge to the other side of the river, where her home lay invitingly close at the top of a large stone staircase, she moved down the narrow footpath along the eastern bank toward the Room of Healing. Upon entering, she scanned the spacious room for either of the tribe’s two healers. She spotted Sershi near the back wall, watching as the young, willowy woman removed a kettle from over a small fire and filled three mugs with its contents. The spicy fragrance of jingal-root tea filled the air, and Kelia instantly felt her mind quiet.
“Protectress,” Sershi said, her mouth morphing into a tired smile that wasn’t reflected in her eyes.
Kelia strode forward, picked up a mug of tea from the table and held it under her nose, closing her eyes as it filled her senses. She took another deep breath before blowing on the tea and taking a cautious sip. She felt the hot liquid slide down her throat, savoring its piquant taste.
“Oh, I needed that.” Kelia took another quenching sip and set the mug back down. “How is your mother doing?”
“Still weak,” Sershi said. “It may be another day before she’s up and around. Extracting the hugar’s venom from our ... guest’s body took more out of her than either of us realized.”
“I understand,” Kelia said, casting a glance at several huddled forms sleeping on beds of lyrax pelts on the other side of the room. Davin lay curled up next to his mother, snoring peacefully, his curly red hair spilling over his face. “How are they doing?”
“The woman has improved,” Sershi said, following Kelia’s gaze. “She seems to have regained some movement in her extremities. I believe we eradicated all of the poison, but now it’s up to her body to rejuvenate itself.”
“There’s nothing more you can do?” Kelia glanced at her half-empty mug, wishing its restorative powers would have a similar effect on her friend.
Sershi shook her head. “As you know, we’ve never had to heal something like this before. We’re monitoring her, and I assure you, we’ll chronicle every detail in our records in case it ever happens again.”
Kelia nodded. “And Nyla?”
The healer took two steps forward, shifting her gaze to Kelia’s thirteen-year-old daughter, lying on a different pallet of furs. “Her heartbeat is strong, and the burns on her palms have healed. Beyond that, she’s in Arantha’s hands. I’m sorry I don’t have more to tell you than that, Protectress.”
Kelia just nodded again.
Sershi’s voice became even more tentative. “What are we going to do about the boy?”
Kelia remained silent. It was a good question, and one she didn’t have an answer for. Davin was the first male to set foot in the village. Ever. And as such, he couldn’t be allowed to roam around unattended. Having spent two days getting to know Davin, she knew him to be an intelligent, personable young man, playful and mischievous at times but a devoted son. Until she could convince her sisters of his good nature, however, he would be considered dangerous, and thus in danger himself. For eight hundred years, her people had looked upon men with suspicion and contempt, only interacting with them when seeking mates on Sojourn.
Additionally, he was from the Above, as was his mother. She only hoped she could get her sisters to understand that their new friends, just like the Ixtrayu, were following a path set forth by Arantha, and it was at this moment in time that those paths were converging. Kelia desperately needed the Council’s help in that regard.
“He will stay by his mother’s side. Should he wake, tell him I will have their food brought to them. But they are not to leave this room until I say otherwise. Can you keep the more curious of our sisters out, or shall I have Runa assign one of the huntresses to stand guard?”
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“That might be wise, Protectress,” Sershi said. “At least until my mother has recovered.”
“I will arrange it right away. No one is to enter but me, Lyala, or the Council. Oh, and Sarja.” Kelia allowed herself a brief smile, remembering Runa’s daughter’s recent declaration of affection for Nyla. The two had created their very own tradition before Nyla laid her hands on the Stone for the first time, pledging their hearts to each other. But Nyla’s first consultation had been too much for her, overwhelming her just as it did to Kelia when she was that age. She silently prayed that her willful daughter would wake soon.
With final glances at Nyla, Maeve, and Davin, she strode from the room.
* * *
From her large chair at the head of the Council Chamber, Kelia sat, spine rigid, as she looked at the three older women facing her.
“We’ll try not to keep you long, Protectress,” said Katura, concern etched into her aged but kindly face. “Rumors abound about our mysterious visitors, and our people look to the four of us for explanations.”
“Agreed,” said Eloni, her short, dark hair as elegant as ever. “While I’m thankful the woman’s life was saved, hers and the boy’s arrival couldn’t have been more ill-timed. Thanks to Susarra, emotions have been running high since Vaxi’s departure. We need to speak as one voice if we are to subdue the disquietude she created.”
Kelia felt a knot form in her stomach at the mention of Vaxi. Despite her best efforts to free the young huntress from the clutches of her domineering grandmother Susarra, she’d failed to do so. Only four days earlier, the vision that sent Kelia to the Kaberian Mountains gave Susarra the perfect opportunity to send Vaxi on Sojourn without Kelia’s permission. Now the girl was beyond their reach, and Kelia could only pray she came to no harm.
“Councilors,” Kelia addressed the triumvirate, “I apologize for keeping secrets from you. I did not tell you about my bond with Maeve because it was unnecessary at the time. When I left, I didn’t think I would ever see them again. Believe me, last night’s turn of events was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”
“Let’s put that aside for a moment,” said Liana. Though Kelia’s aunt had only been on the Council for two days—a replacement that became necessary after Susarra’s disobedience came to light—she’d slipped into the role as easily as the white robe she now wore. “Let us instead focus on the circumstances that led you to Share with a woman from the Above.”
“It happened in a moment of weakness,” Kelia confessed, her fingers idly grasping the familiar lump of metal that dangled from the necklace she wore. Featureless and spherical, it had been given to her by her mother right before her death, so Kelia had turned it into a pendant as part of the necklace that Nyla had crafted many years before. “I was fatigued from my journey across the desert. My first meeting with Maeve precipitated a show of force on my part, and using my abilities drained the last drops of my strength. I was at her mercy. She could have killed me if she so desired, but instead she rushed to my aid. Though we did not speak the same language, I knew at that moment that she wasn’t my enemy. Her eyes bore no malevolence, only sorrow.”
Kelia took a deep breath, staring at the floor as she relived the memory. “There is something about her, Councilors, something I’m not even sure I can explain. Before I even made my trek to the mountains, Arantha provided me with visions of her. I felt ... drawn to her, somehow. Like our meeting was destined, preordained by Arantha, and it was the divine goddess guiding my hand.”
Katura raised her bony fingers, briefly covering her mouth. “In the cave, she spoke in our language. Was this also a result of the Sharing?”
“It was.” Kelia nodded. “From what I gather, though she and her son are speaking in their native language—she called it ‘English’—we are able to hear her in Elystran. And likewise, they can understand us equally well.”
“Remarkable,” said Eloni. “Thank Arantha for providing us with such a gift.”
“There is another factor at play here, which I must now inform you of. At the time of our Sharing, I came to discover she’d already developed Wielding abilities.”
The eyes of the entire Council widened. Eloni let out a gasp.
“Great Arantha,” whispered Liana.
Kelia continued, “Her healing ability manifested itself before they even found the Stone. When I first envisioned Maeve, her back bore many large, deep scars. But because of the Stone, the scars are no longer there. With my guidance, she discovered she could also heal others.” She pulled up the sleeve of her tunic, showing off the upper arm where Maeve’s gunshot had grazed her. Only a tiny patch of rough skin remained where the bullet wound had been.
“Soon afterward, we discovered she could communicate with animals. She was able to command my chava with nothing but a word and a gesture.” She recalled the moment when her wide-bodied mount, with whom she’d spent years building a rapport, completely ignored her and ran straight to Maeve. “She also told me she’d used this ability to pacify a pack of lyraxes several nights before.”
She paused, scanning the faces of the Council. “But the biggest surprise came after we found the Stone. I attempted to use my air-Wielding to levitate myself, and just as I felt my strength begin to slip, Maeve ... empowered me. Somehow, she added her strength to my own. We spent the next minute hovering above the ground together.” Kelia smiled at the memory. “It was the most exhilarating moment of my life.”
Of course, this was followed by a brief but passionate kiss between her and Maeve, but she saw no need to inform the Council of this.
“Simply unbelievable,” said Liana, “that Arantha would bestow such power upon a woman not of our world.”
“Agreed,” said Kelia. A sorrowful look crossed her face. “However, we must not fall into the trap of believing we always know the divine goddess’ wishes. And as you heard, Maeve has matters of extreme importance to discuss with us when she’s recovered. In her brief moments of clarity before sleep claimed her, she told me there was more at stake than just the future of Elystra. I do not know what it could possibly mean, or what our future holds for us.”
This was a lie. Kelia knew exactly what was coming. She’d seen it in her last three consultations. The same terrible, horrible images being shoved into her mind.
The nearby forest, ablaze.
The Ixtrayu croplands, aflame.
The charred, smoking bodies of her sisters, scattered on the ground.
If this is the future, Kelia thought, why does Arantha torment me so? Is it so we may find a way to escape such a fate? Or are we doomed no matter which way we turn?