Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(87)

Kendrick looked at both of them as if their wits had been taken by the wind. “Let us talk to the Warden of Xy,” he said firmly, closing the ring box with a snap.




Amyu released her horse into the herd of cows grazing at the foot of the mountain. Kalisa’s family was nowhere to be seen, and the cheese cave was locked up tight. That suited Amyu. She didn’t want to have to answer any more questions.

She’d answered plenty in the last few days, enough that they still rang in her head. She’d been honest in telling Heath and Atira that she’d had an idea about how to summon the airions using the sword. She just hadn’t told them everything.

It had taken time to convince them. Days in fact, but that had been fine. She’d needed time to prepare and gather items for her own ritual.

There’d been arguments against her of course, with everyone pointing out the flaws in her idea. That she didn’t have the Blood of Xy in her veins. That the sword and the rallying cry were for the people of Xy, not some mythical creature. That no sign had been found by Rafe and the others. That this was a foolish idea, and that she’d lose the Ring of Xy in the brush and that was a hell of a way to treat an ancient artifact of the House of Xy.

That last had been from an indignant Kendrick, quivering with worry at the very idea.

In the end, Heath had shrugged. “The skies favor the bold,” he quoted as he gave her permission.

She cached her saddle, and took up her pack. She’d plenty of food, and all the gear she would need. This shouldn’t take as long this time, as she wasn’t searching. She knew exactly where she was going.

Amyu adjusted the straps of her pack, shifted to make sure it sat right. With a deep breath, and a shiver of excitement, she started up the path.





Chapter Thirty


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.