one much more familiar.
Placing his weapon aside, he stepped into plain view. “Zaune?”
“Varian?” The hushed voice came from his left. The
Na’Chi
scout emerged from a thicket of bushes. The dark colors of his shirt and breeches were hard to distinguish from the shadows. He glanced over his shoulder. “Seralla, over here.”
A shorter, slender form emerged from the forest and picked her way around boulders and shrubs, covering the distance on silent feet. Zaune waited for the female Light Blade to draw level with him before they both made their way toward him.
“Are you all right, Varian?” Zaune asked. “We found where you and the
Temple Elect
went off the escarpment.”
“We’re both fine.” He raised his voice. “Kymora, it’s Zaune and Seralla.”
The two scouts scrambled up the small ridge as Kymora joined him at the entrance. Knowing she’d feel the absence of her staff, he caught her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
“Thank the
Lady
you’re both safe.” Seralla smiled as she seated herself on a rock. “We’ve been searching for you all night.”
“What of the village? The renegades?” Varian asked.
“The village is secure. We captured ten rebels. Arek is guarding them. He sent us to track the two pursuing you.” Zaune’s grimace told him all he needed to know. “We lost their trail.”
“Arek will probably have sent a messenger to the city, to Kalan,” Kymora murmured. “He’ll send help.”
Varian placed a hand on top of Kymora’s and squeezed in acknowledgment.
“How did you both cross the river?” Kymora asked.
Seralla pointed back through the forest. “There’s a submerged bank downriver. We waded over.”
Varian nodded; that was one problem taken care of. Putting Kymora through another stressful swim was the last thing he wanted to do. Her soft sigh was barely audible.
“Then let’s get moving.” His thoughts turned to the attack on the village. The anger from a minute ago seethed to the surface, and he knew it edged his voice as he spoke. “I want to get back to the village as soon as possible.”
Chapter 8
“T HERE’S nothing salvageable in here.” Arek shook his head as he scanned the interior from the charred doorway of the third fire-damaged house.
Sunlight filtered through the uneven holes in the thatched roof, spotlighting blackened furniture and shattered pottery. Some objects were burned beyond recognition. Something in the debris hit his boot. Bending over, he plucked a child’s straw doll from the ash. Three limbs were missing; the fourth had been partially eaten away by flames. Rubbing a gloved finger over the blackened face, he watched the brittle surface crumble to dust.
The heavy odor of smoke and smoldering embers filled his nostrils, the acrid scent tinged by loss, heartache, and grief. Shaking his head, he dropped the doll back into the ash. No one was going to forget the smell of this tragedy in a hurry.
“Second Barial!”
The urgent shout was accompanied by the pounding of boots along the pathway. He turned to see a young girl in a healers’ greentunic and pants running toward him, her dark curly hair bouncing against her shoulders.
“Check out the next dwelling,” Arek told the
Na’Chi
woman beside him. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He stepped away from the damaged house as the healers’ apprentice skidded to a stop. Her freckled face was flushed with exertion, her expression pinched by tension. “Rissa, what’s wrong?”
“Lisella said to come quickly!” The gasped reply was accompanied by a tug to his sleeve. Wide, brown eyes peered up at him. “Rystin and some of the others are outside the house where you imprisoned the rebel Light Blades. They’re demanding your warriors hand them over….”
Arek cursed and took off for the center of the village. He’d sent more scouts out at dawn to help Zaune locate Varian and Kymora. The sun was barely three hours into the sky. Why wasn’t Rystin
Placing his weapon aside, he stepped into plain view. “Zaune?”
“Varian?” The hushed voice came from his left. The
Na’Chi
scout emerged from a thicket of bushes. The dark colors of his shirt and breeches were hard to distinguish from the shadows. He glanced over his shoulder. “Seralla, over here.”
A shorter, slender form emerged from the forest and picked her way around boulders and shrubs, covering the distance on silent feet. Zaune waited for the female Light Blade to draw level with him before they both made their way toward him.
“Are you all right, Varian?” Zaune asked. “We found where you and the
Temple Elect
went off the escarpment.”
“We’re both fine.” He raised his voice. “Kymora, it’s Zaune and Seralla.”
The two scouts scrambled up the small ridge as Kymora joined him at the entrance. Knowing she’d feel the absence of her staff, he caught her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.
“Thank the
Lady
you’re both safe.” Seralla smiled as she seated herself on a rock. “We’ve been searching for you all night.”
“What of the village? The renegades?” Varian asked.
“The village is secure. We captured ten rebels. Arek is guarding them. He sent us to track the two pursuing you.” Zaune’s grimace told him all he needed to know. “We lost their trail.”
“Arek will probably have sent a messenger to the city, to Kalan,” Kymora murmured. “He’ll send help.”
Varian placed a hand on top of Kymora’s and squeezed in acknowledgment.
“How did you both cross the river?” Kymora asked.
Seralla pointed back through the forest. “There’s a submerged bank downriver. We waded over.”
Varian nodded; that was one problem taken care of. Putting Kymora through another stressful swim was the last thing he wanted to do. Her soft sigh was barely audible.
“Then let’s get moving.” His thoughts turned to the attack on the village. The anger from a minute ago seethed to the surface, and he knew it edged his voice as he spoke. “I want to get back to the village as soon as possible.”
Chapter 8
“T HERE’S nothing salvageable in here.” Arek shook his head as he scanned the interior from the charred doorway of the third fire-damaged house.
Sunlight filtered through the uneven holes in the thatched roof, spotlighting blackened furniture and shattered pottery. Some objects were burned beyond recognition. Something in the debris hit his boot. Bending over, he plucked a child’s straw doll from the ash. Three limbs were missing; the fourth had been partially eaten away by flames. Rubbing a gloved finger over the blackened face, he watched the brittle surface crumble to dust.
The heavy odor of smoke and smoldering embers filled his nostrils, the acrid scent tinged by loss, heartache, and grief. Shaking his head, he dropped the doll back into the ash. No one was going to forget the smell of this tragedy in a hurry.
“Second Barial!”
The urgent shout was accompanied by the pounding of boots along the pathway. He turned to see a young girl in a healers’ greentunic and pants running toward him, her dark curly hair bouncing against her shoulders.
“Check out the next dwelling,” Arek told the
Na’Chi
woman beside him. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He stepped away from the damaged house as the healers’ apprentice skidded to a stop. Her freckled face was flushed with exertion, her expression pinched by tension. “Rissa, what’s wrong?”
“Lisella said to come quickly!” The gasped reply was accompanied by a tug to his sleeve. Wide, brown eyes peered up at him. “Rystin and some of the others are outside the house where you imprisoned the rebel Light Blades. They’re demanding your warriors hand them over….”
Arek cursed and took off for the center of the village. He’d sent more scouts out at dawn to help Zaune locate Varian and Kymora. The sun was barely three hours into the sky. Why wasn’t Rystin
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