Graevale (The Medoran Chronicles) Page 6

  Skin prickling, Alex sensed a growing discontentment from those behind her and picked up her pace, eager to find Zain and Kyia.

  She was only a few feet away from entering Roka’s shelter when fingernails latched painfully onto her arm and spun her around.

  Her reflexes kicked in immediately and she yanked herself free of her assailant’s grip, crouching into a defensive stance.

  “You are not welcome here, human,” spat the enraged Meyarin before her—a familiar face, to her despair.

  “Loro Gaiel,” she said, before stretching the truth—considerably. “I’m glad to see you made it out of the city.”

  “No thanks to you, mortal,” he hissed through his teeth.

  As the head of House Varsae, Gaiel had never been pleasant to Alex, except during her time in the past when he’d thought she was Meyarin. But aside from being scornful and derisive to her human self, he’d never been outwardly antagonistic towards her, especially not physically.

  “Have I done something to upset you?” Alex asked hesitantly, wondering why neither Kyia nor Zain had come to her aid yet, since surely they would have heard the commotion outside their tent. But then she realised that the Myrox coating the canvas also offered a soundproofing barrier, so her friends had no way of knowing she was there.

  “Have you done something to upset me?” Gaiel repeated in a whisper, his feline features darkening with every word. He leaned forward and yelled straight into her face, “You’re the reason we’re stranded here, you filthy human kregon!”

  Alex cringed at his harsh words, but otherwise didn’t have time to react to his accusation. And that was because he drew his sword and continued to shout, this time in Meyarin—a language he didn’t know she understood.

  “You helped the Rebel Prince return to our city!” Gaiel roared. “And now our king is dead and his rightful heir lies sleeping forevermore!” His furious eyes pinned her. “There is no escape for you, human. If we send Aven your head, he may offer us leniency. Or indeed, he may not. But either way, I shall feel better when you no longer infect this world with the taint of your mortal blood.”

  Alex felt her resolve strengthening in the face of such clear hatred. She had been through too much to be bullied by the likes of Gaiel, Meyarin council member or not.

  Grateful her bond with Xiraxus allowed her to interpret his words, she was ready when he made his first move, swinging his sword straight at her neck. Part of her couldn’t believe he was actually following through with his threat. She knew he was desperate—just like the rest of the Meyarins, who didn’t step in to stop him—and while she felt compassion, it wasn’t enough to give up her life.

  Summoning A’enara with a single thought, Alex met Gaiel’s blade mid-swing, with blue sparks leaping off her own weapon as the flames trailed harmlessly up the skin of her arm. She knew she presented an unorthodox sight to the surrounding Meyarins; a human who not only had the golden vaeliana bond, but also commanded the Sword of the Stars—a Tia Auran weapon held in great esteem amongst those from Meya. From her peripheral vision she saw wide eyes and heard gasps from the crowd. And not just because of her shining skin or magical blade.

  It was also because of her swift reaction.

  None of them, least of all Gaiel, had expected her to block his attack. She was only human, after all. And a human shouldn’t be able to match the speed or reflexes of a Meyarin.

  His face reddening with anger, Gaiel pulled back before lunging at her again. And again. And again.

  In barely a handful of moves, it became clear to Alex that her opponent had never been a member of the Zeltora—Meya’s elite guard—nor did he have much fighting experience. She swept aside his attacks with little effort, grateful for Niyx’s ruthless training that made holding a defence against Gaiel as easy as breathing.

  Having no desire to prolong their skirmish, when he came at her again, Alex ducked under his sword and spun behind him using a burst of Meyarin speed, kicking out one of his knees as she did so and circling A’enara around his blade until she had the leverage to force his weapon from his grip and onto the snow. In the blink of an eye she had him unarmed and on his knees, with A’enara pressed against his windpipe as she stood above him from behind.

  “Are you done?” she demanded.

  When he remained silent, whether in shock or defiance, she leaned down and hissed into his ear the same words, but in Meyarin. “Noran sae rellis, Loro Gaiel?”

  He jerked in surprise, enough for A’enara to nick his skin and blue flames to touch his flesh. Alex wasn’t sure which hurt him more, but she presumed it was the fire since she knew the heat was blisteringly painful to anyone not bonded with the weapon. But given that Gaiel had just tried to decapitate her, she couldn’t bring herself to feel much guilt.

  “What I would give to throw you off the side of this island right now!” Gaiel seethed in his native language. “No one would stop me—no one!”

  “You’re hardly in a position to make such a threat,” Alex responded coolly, reverting to the common tongue. “Are you ready to get up? Or are you going to attack me again?”

  Gaiel spat—actually spat—onto the snow in front of him.

  “Sae teron mot devarsa!”

  “Now, that’s just not very nice,” Alex said. But before she could decide whether or not to let him up despite him saying, ‘You deserve to die!’ another voice interrupted.

  “In the name of the light, what is going on out here?”

  Alex looked towards the hut and found both Zain and Kyia frozen outside the entrance and staring at the gathered assemblage with incredulity. She opened her mouth to respond, but a searing pain in her leg had her crying out and whipping back around to discover that Gaiel had thrust a concealed dagger deep into the flesh of her thigh.

  Shoving the weaselly Meyarin away from her, she banished A’enara and wrapped both hands around the hilt of the dagger to yank it out, remembering afterwards that leaving it in would have helped stem the flow of blood.

  “You slimy son of a—”

  She didn’t get to finish her curse before Zain had the council member pinned by his neck up against the side of Roka’s tent.

  “What is the meaning of this, Gaiel?” Zain roared in Meyarin, as Kyia crouched beside Alex to inspect her wound.

  “The human has deceived us!” Gaiel shouted. “And in doing so, she has ruined us all!”

  “What are you talking about?” Zain demanded. “Alex is a friend to Meya. You know this.”

  “That girl,” Gaiel spat, his eyes glaring daggers at Alex, “is no friend of mine. She might know our language and have fighting skills beyond those of a mortal, but as far as I’m concerned, she has doomed us to a fate worse than death. She returned Aven to our city—everything that has happened since then is her fault. She might as well have killed the king herself!”

  It was Kyia who spoke up next, also in Meyarin, still kneeling beside Alex. “Stars, Gaiel! What’s the matter with you?”

  “Me?” Gaiel spluttered. “She’s the one who—”

  “Enough!” Kyia snapped, standing again and brushing snow from her leathery pants. She gestured to a pair of armed Meyarins who had exited Roka’s tent along with her and Zain and said, “Take him away. We’ll deal with him later.”

  Somewhat hazy from the pain in her leg, Alex realised that with Roka out of commission, as his betrothed—and therefore Meya’s future queen—Kyia must be the highest-ranking Meyarin amongst those safe from Aven’s control. Either that, or perhaps Zain, as the leader of the Zeltora. Both options boded well for Alex, especially if Gaiel wasn’t the only one to believe they’d be better off with her dead.

  “Let’s get you inside and have a look at the damage,” Kyia said in the common tongue, taking Alex’s arm and helping her limp towards the hut as Gaiel was dragged away.

  Zain didn’t follow straight after them, and Alex had a feeling he was interrogating the crowd for details of what had happened. She would have been more apprehensi
ve about her own upcoming answers, but it took all her concentration to keep from using some of Drock’s more colourful expletives as the blood flowed freely down her jeans with every throbbing step.

  Finally Kyia had her in the tent and pushed her down onto a wooden chair. Unlike when Alex had last been there, the area in which Roka lay was now curtained off, but she could still see his vague outline through the wispy material. There was no Lady Mystique by his side this time, nor anyone else.

  “Is he…?”

  “No change,” Kyia said. She wandered around the room, grabbing items as she moved, and continued offering up information. “His condition hasn’t worsened, which was our main concern. The supernatural effects of his stasis appear to be keeping his body in pristine health despite the lack of hydration, nourishment and muscle movement. He’s simply frozen in time.” Kyia swallowed. “If he were to wake up in five minutes or five years, his body and mind would be as perfect as the moment before Grimm Helkin struck him with his gift.”

  Grimm Helkin. Alex had never met the gifted human under Aven’s control—the person responsible for Roka’s current state—but she was determined to hunt him down and Release him, and in doing so, awaken Roka.

  Or… that was her hope, at least.

  “If we were anywhere but here, I would be able to give you something that would heal you in an instant,” Kyia said, sitting beside Alex and prodding her wound.

  “Ouch!” Alex hissed, jerking her leg away. “Easy, Kyia. I’ve just been stabbed by six inches of Myrox.”

  The only reason Alex was able to string a sentence together and wasn’t just sitting there wailing or even passing out was because she’d been injured similarly during her training with Niyx—many, many times. Stab wounds were, unfortunately, a common experience for her.

  “As it is,” Kyia continued, pushing the torn edges of denim aside and dabbing a clean bandage against the entry wound, “our supplies are alarmingly low, especially the amount of laendra we have on hand since we used much to heal those injured in our escape.”

  After mopping up as much blood as she could, Kyia unstoppered a glass bottle and, without warning, poured its contents over Alex’s leg.

  The pain was instant, and so much worse than when the dagger had pierced her flesh. Alex would take a repeat of that a thousand times over rather than the torture of the excruciating liquid.

  “Deep breaths,” Kyia said, reading Alex’s agonised expression. “I know it stings a little—”

  “A little?” Alex gasped, trying not to scream.

  “—but Gaiel is notorious for coating his weapons with poison,” Kyia continued, ignoring Alex. “For Meyarins, the dose is just strong enough to make us a little sick; to incapacitate us in a fight so our opponent can get the upper hand. It doesn’t last long in our systems since our blood is quick to rid us of the toxins. But since you’re human, I’m not willing to take any risks.”

  “So the liquid?” Alex wheezed, still affected by the burning pain.

  “An antidote,” Kyia said. “Just in case.”

  Given the agony she was in, Alex might have been willing to take that chance rather than endure the cure.

  “I’m afraid this is all I can offer you,” Kyia said, handing a single silver petal to Alex. “You’re fortunate Gaiel didn’t sever an artery, since that’s the last of our laendra.”

  Grateful—and a little guilty that she was using the last of their supplies—Alex put the glowing portion of the flower in her mouth, finding almost instant relief thanks to the sweet-tasting medicine.

  “It’s not enough to heal you completely, but it should take the edge off and speed up your tissue regeneration,” Kyia said as Alex chewed. “Once you’re back at the academy, I suggest you visit your Doctor Fletcher and he’ll give you something to complete the healing process.”

  “I don’t understand,” Alex said, swallowing her mouthful. “Why can’t you or Zain just zip down on the Valispath and pick up a handful of laendra and whatever other supplies you need?” Remembering then that neither of her friends were willing to leave Roka in case Aven decided to attack, she amended, “Or why not send one of the others?”

  “It’s not as simple as that,” Kyia said, looking more exhausted than Alex had ever seen her. “We’ve tried and failed three times to retrieve supplies. The first and second Meyarins we sent out never returned. And the third made it back here with grievous injuries. It’s only because of her that we were able to learn Aven has teams scouring the forests surrounding Meya. Gifted humans—mind readers, mostly—are paired with Claimed Zeltora in search of anyone not yet bound to him. With the range of their gifts, we’re cut off from the Silverwood, since the moment we set foot down there, they know. And while Aven can’t access the Valispath, those Claimed by him can use it just as we can.”

  Alex couldn’t believe how bad things were, or how quickly they were escalating. She felt so helpless. And yet…

  “You can take the Valispath elsewhere to restock food and other supplies, right? Just not close to Meya?” Alex asked. At Kyia’s nod, she said, “Keep doing that, and next time I visit, I’ll make sure to bring some laendra with me.”

  “Absolutely not,” came Kyia’s immediate and firm answer.

  “My gift won’t let them read me,” Alex reminded her.

  “That doesn’t matter—there’s sure to be a constant guard at Raelia by now.”

  Kyia had a point. If Aven was smart—and, unfortunately, he was—he would definitely have people watching the only place where Alex could infiltrate his defences.

  But… she never said she would be the one to retrieve the laendra from the Silverwood.

  “Promise me you won’t set foot in Raelia, Alex,” Kyia ordered in an unyielding tone. “Not without backup. Preferably an entire army.”

  Alex hid a smile at the image of so many people pouring through the Library and out into the mushroom-circled clearing. “I promise, Kyia. I won’t go on my own.”

  Kyia pursed her lips. “Your friends, as courageous as they are, don’t count as acceptable backup. Am I clear?”

  Alex actually laughed. “Don’t worry, I hear you. I’d never put Jordan, Dix or Bear in that kind of danger anyway.”

  “Jordan?” Kyia’s golden brow furrowed. “Isn’t he…?”

  With everything that had happened, Alex had forgotten she hadn’t yet shared that Jordan was free. But just as she was about to explain, Zain stalked into the tent, his face like thunder.

  “You,” he said, jabbing a finger towards Alex, “had better start talking. Right now.”

  Alex had seen Zain angry before, both in the past and in the present, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being on the receiving end of his wrath.

  Fortunately, she was prepared. In the few days since she’d last seen her Meyarin friends, she had decided that, while Niyx had advised against it, she couldn’t keep the truth from Zain and Kyia. She certainly wouldn’t be telling everyone, but they needed to know, since they were close enough to notice she was different now. It was better to confess and enlist their help, rather than deceive them and risk losing their trust.

  “You’d better sit down,” Alex said, stretching out her leg and grimacing at the pain. The laendra had helped considerably, but she was far from healed.

  Kyia noticed her wince and began wrapping a bandage around the wound, strapping it tightly.

  “Seriously, sit,” Alex repeated when Zain didn’t move. “Because I’m going to tell you something that you’re going to have trouble believing. And I want your promise that you’ll hear me out before you decide I’m crazy.”

  Six

  Unsurprisingly, both Zain and Kyia did think Alex was crazy. The only thing in her favour was the fact that their memories of the past weren’t wiped entirely—they just remembered a blurred, forgotten face. That was how Lady Mystique’s memory modification had worked—keeping Alex there but also… not. To Kyia and Zain, she was an unidentifiable Meyarin of no importance, with not even t
he golden shimmer of her vaeliana bond present in their minds.

  What finally convinced them was her knowledge of them personally. The memories Alex shared—there was no way she could have known such things without experiencing them for herself. And that was ultimately what persuaded Zain and Kyia that she was telling the truth.

  “This is unbelievable,” Kyia whispered, rubbing her temples. “I mean, I remember there was someone with us—I remember standing on that waterfall with Aven, Niyx, Roka and someone else… but no matter how much I try to visualise the memory, I can’t picture who it was.”

  Alex offered an apologetic shrug. “Lady Mystique—Aes Daega—made it so you wouldn’t remember me. If you had, I might never have found my way back to the past, and our current timeline would have been all stuffed up.” She scrunched up her face. “It’s one of those weird time paradoxes. Cause and effect, and all that.”

  Zain was just staring at her in shocked bewilderment. “That’s how you knew my name.”

  Alex blinked at him. “Sorry?”

  “I haven’t forgotten that storm and what happened at Narsae de Trigon with that foul beast, Skraegon,” he said, his tone sour at the name of the Meyarin brute. “I’ve never been able to remember your face, but it always bothered me that someone knew who I was when, at the time, I was careful with whom I shared my identity.”

  Alex laughed as she recalled the promise she’d made him that night. “You made me swear by the stars that one day I’d tell you how I knew your name.”

  Zain grinned wolfishly at her, humour replacing his shock. “That I remember, too. I just had no idea you would make me wait thousands of years.”

  Alex returned his grin. “I didn’t specify the timeframe.”

  “I’ll have to make note of that for next time, you devious little human.” His amusement faded and his face turned pensive. “But I guess we’ll call it even, since I have a feeling you’re the reason Roka never stopped badgering me to join the Zeltora.”