Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) by Steven Kelliher Page B
Authors: Steven Kelliher
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strengthened their resolve in an attempt to weaken my own.”
“Sun’s losing today,” Kaya said, indicating the gray skies.
“What sorts of dreams?” Jenk asked, sounding genuinely curious. He displayed a keen and unwavering interest in each of them. Linn had yet to decide if it was the politician in him or the heroic leader. Perhaps he was just a curious sort and she had never taken the time to notice before.
“No matter,” Baas answered after a time. He scanned the trees suspiciously. “Some spell of the Faey, I think.”
Larren scoffed at that as he worked over a piece of dried venison. It was no secret that Baas was Rockbled. The Landkist of the Fork were not as overt in their power as the Embers, but they were impressive in their own right. Incredibly strong, tireless and blessed with natural resiliencies to weapons of the earth—most weapons—they might not be as offensively potent as the Landkist of the Emberfolk, but they were exceedingly difficult to kill.
Of course, Linn had never seen those powers in action. Her mother had, but there had rarely been cause for Ember to fight against or alongside Rockbled in the decades since the early conflicts, no matter how many demons the World Apart sent into the Valley.
Their makeshift camp fell into a silence that each of them worked to cover with the checking of gear, the washing of teeth and the pulling of strap and buckle. There was a grim mood about. In place of the shining sun that should have been greeting their backs through the filtering branches, they had woken to a pall hanging about the sky, which was punctuated by the echo of distant thunder.
Linn was thankful that the twins had decided not to accompany them. Taei was fine enough, and certainly useful in a pinch, but she could do without Fihn, whose mood as often as not resembled the gray skies above. It was all about small victories in the Valley, and Linn would take them where she could find them.
While Linn had assumed the Second Keeper would be the de facto leader of the group, it was Jenk Ganmeer taking the center of the clearing to address them now.
“We’ve had our discussions, and now we’ve had the night to sleep on them,” he said. “Hearth is barely a league to the east. We’d be able to see the walls from here if it weren’t for the trees. We could re-stock our supplies, get some more fitful rest and maybe even recruit some woodsmen who know the lay of the land up north. On the other hand, if Doh’Rah’s contacts make us, we’ll be quartered and sent back south before we can have a cup of milled wine in the first tavern.”
Linn cleared her throat.
“It’s no real question to me,” she said. “We continue on, or we can be bundled up like children caught stealing from the baker and sent back to the Faey Mother.” She shouldered her pack, and the others did likewise, Jenk last.
If the forests to the south were dense cloisters, those further north were sparse by comparison, the trees growing taller as the canopy thinned to pine. Nettles littered the forest floor and cushioned their footfalls. Sap leaked from the rough bark in patient rivers, giving the woods a sour and pleasant odor. It was amazing how varied the lands of the Valley were, like a world unto itself. For Linn and the other members of her party, it always had been.
Linn did not fear an attack by the Dark Kind, even in the gloom the gray skies cast. With each passing day, the World Apart drifted further, making their intrusions less likely by the hour. Still, the Deep Lands were bathed in constant shadow and magic still seeped up from the ground there. If they could find a way around those chasms, it would be well worth it.
Lost in thought, Linn nearly smashed her nose into a sheer wall of blue—Baas’s shirt; the hulk had stopped dead in his tracks.
“What—
He hushed her with an upraised hand, neck rigid as he stared intently ahead.
Linn craned her neck in an attempt to see beyond the Riverman—a
“Sun’s losing today,” Kaya said, indicating the gray skies.
“What sorts of dreams?” Jenk asked, sounding genuinely curious. He displayed a keen and unwavering interest in each of them. Linn had yet to decide if it was the politician in him or the heroic leader. Perhaps he was just a curious sort and she had never taken the time to notice before.
“No matter,” Baas answered after a time. He scanned the trees suspiciously. “Some spell of the Faey, I think.”
Larren scoffed at that as he worked over a piece of dried venison. It was no secret that Baas was Rockbled. The Landkist of the Fork were not as overt in their power as the Embers, but they were impressive in their own right. Incredibly strong, tireless and blessed with natural resiliencies to weapons of the earth—most weapons—they might not be as offensively potent as the Landkist of the Emberfolk, but they were exceedingly difficult to kill.
Of course, Linn had never seen those powers in action. Her mother had, but there had rarely been cause for Ember to fight against or alongside Rockbled in the decades since the early conflicts, no matter how many demons the World Apart sent into the Valley.
Their makeshift camp fell into a silence that each of them worked to cover with the checking of gear, the washing of teeth and the pulling of strap and buckle. There was a grim mood about. In place of the shining sun that should have been greeting their backs through the filtering branches, they had woken to a pall hanging about the sky, which was punctuated by the echo of distant thunder.
Linn was thankful that the twins had decided not to accompany them. Taei was fine enough, and certainly useful in a pinch, but she could do without Fihn, whose mood as often as not resembled the gray skies above. It was all about small victories in the Valley, and Linn would take them where she could find them.
While Linn had assumed the Second Keeper would be the de facto leader of the group, it was Jenk Ganmeer taking the center of the clearing to address them now.
“We’ve had our discussions, and now we’ve had the night to sleep on them,” he said. “Hearth is barely a league to the east. We’d be able to see the walls from here if it weren’t for the trees. We could re-stock our supplies, get some more fitful rest and maybe even recruit some woodsmen who know the lay of the land up north. On the other hand, if Doh’Rah’s contacts make us, we’ll be quartered and sent back south before we can have a cup of milled wine in the first tavern.”
Linn cleared her throat.
“It’s no real question to me,” she said. “We continue on, or we can be bundled up like children caught stealing from the baker and sent back to the Faey Mother.” She shouldered her pack, and the others did likewise, Jenk last.
If the forests to the south were dense cloisters, those further north were sparse by comparison, the trees growing taller as the canopy thinned to pine. Nettles littered the forest floor and cushioned their footfalls. Sap leaked from the rough bark in patient rivers, giving the woods a sour and pleasant odor. It was amazing how varied the lands of the Valley were, like a world unto itself. For Linn and the other members of her party, it always had been.
Linn did not fear an attack by the Dark Kind, even in the gloom the gray skies cast. With each passing day, the World Apart drifted further, making their intrusions less likely by the hour. Still, the Deep Lands were bathed in constant shadow and magic still seeped up from the ground there. If they could find a way around those chasms, it would be well worth it.
Lost in thought, Linn nearly smashed her nose into a sheer wall of blue—Baas’s shirt; the hulk had stopped dead in his tracks.
“What—
He hushed her with an upraised hand, neck rigid as he stared intently ahead.
Linn craned her neck in an attempt to see beyond the Riverman—a
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