Son of Winter (Dragon and Storm Book 2) Read online

  “Salqui. It means ward in Calnec-Arayn, which I intend to have you fluent in within a couple of years. Now.” He grew more serious. “My reason is…you’re the leader of the Eight.”

  The what? Leader? You’re kidding. Talea blinked. “Uh…what?”

  Yhkon put his hands in his pockets with his thumbs out, reminding her of Wylan’s trademark pose. “I suppose I should have told you earlier. Didn’t you ever wonder why you were assigned to the lead Warden? It’s because you’re the lead ward.”

  This is just dandy. “Nuh-uh. Come on. Why? I mean, shouldn’t the leader be chosen or elected? How do you know it’s me? Why is it me?”

  Yhkon removed his hands from his pockets, and slid one through his dark blond hair. “That would be a question better suited to Grrake.” When she only looked at him expectantly, he frowned and averted his gaze. “Narone chose you. There. That’s why.”

  Despite the more pressing issue of her being the leader of the Eight, Talea looked at him until he made eye contact again. “Why does that bother you?”

  He was scowling again. “What, and you’re perfectly amicable towards the subject of Narone?”

  “No, but you know why I’m not. I don’t get why you aren’t, considering your position and all.”

  The scowl turned into a glare, that made her want to retreat a step. “And that became your concern, when?”

  Talea flinched, lowering the sword.

  He took the sword from her hands. “Let’s work on a few basic maneuvers,” he said, quietly, though not so angrily. “I’ll show you, then you can try.”

  He did an exceptional job of acting like nothing had happened, simply demonstrating the movements before guiding her through them. She didn’t do quite as good a job. Every time he leaned in or grabbed her arm to move it into the correct position, she wanted to shrink away. The only responses she could make to anything he said was a nod or mumbled answer.

  They practiced until Ahjul returned with a strange creature she’d never seen before slung over his shoulder. To her relief, Yhkon returned his sword to the scabbard, told her to help Ahjul clean and cook the game, and walked away.

  Talea folded her hands behind her back as Ahjul approached, managing to return his smile. “What’s that?”

  “This,” he knelt, depositing the animal on the ground, “is a merkil. Good for eating, not so good for carrying around, because I’m sure I’ll smell like it for days.” She’d been about to wrinkle her nose at the stench, but forced her expression to remain neutral instead. He looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. “I can see you trying not to make a face.”

  A smile, as well as a wrinkled nose, came more easily that time. “Good grief, it does smell.”

  “They always do.” He pulled a knife from his belt. “They’re known for it. They usually live on riverbanks in burrows they dig in the mud, so you would think the water would have a bathing effect and take away the smell…no such luck.” He poked the tip of the blade into the merkil’s throat and moved it down, cutting a slit all the way to its belly.

  Once he was convinced that she wasn’t upset by it—which was only partially true—Ahjul showed her how to properly skin the creature and get the usable meat. After her nose became accustomed to the powerful stench, it wasn’t so bad an occupation. With the mess cleaned up and several slabs of raw, slimy meat, they worked together to start a fire and cook the fresh game. By the time the pieces were sizzling, Larak and Resh had returned, with three barbsits between them. Gustor also came back from his perimeter check, with nothing to report.

  It might as well have been a feast. There was enough meat for everyone to have a satisfactory amount, and Ahjul was right—merkil was good for eating, if not for smelling. Talea noticed after a while that she was the only one sitting anywhere near Ahjul, and realized it must have been because his clothes reeked with the odor, but she had gotten used to it.

  Sure enough, Haeric shook his head with a chuckle. “You’d better change your clothes before you go back to the Vegns, or we’ll never get the chance to convince them of anything.”

  “Amen to that!” Tarol scooted even farther away from the youngest Warden. “You smell worse than a carcass baking under an Irlaish sun.”

  Ahjul smiled sheepishly. “I know, I’m going to change.”

  “Still.” Larak gave him a nod. “Good kill, lad. A merkil isn’t an easy catch.”

  “Hmph,” Resh smirked, “I’m the one who taught him to hunt. Of course he’s catching merkils.”

  Ahjul’s brow puckered. “Um, Grrake taught me to hunt.”

  Resh rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I took you out once. Close enough. And we all know I’m a far better hunter than Grrake.”

  No one argued that. Even Grrake just shrugged. Tarol, however, laughed. “Yeah, just like we all know Jewels is a better hunter than you, Resh.”

  While Resh scrunched up his face in protest, Ahjul’s cheeks flushed slightly and he ducked his head. “Not really.”

  They kept going from there, but Talea tuned it out. As discreetly as possible, she observed Yhkon and Gustor, the only two Wardens not participating in the jovial conversation. They sat together, as she’d noticed that they often did. Gustor was sharpening one of his knives, the blade scraping against the stone in a drawn-out whine. Somewhere along the way, she’d picked up on the fact that he had actually been an assassin before he was a Warden. When or for whom, she didn’t know. Either way, it wasn’t hard to believe. At the beginning of their journey back into Zentyre a month ago, she’d been undeniably intimidated, even frightened, of the man.

  Not anymore. He was a daunting, intense individual—but he wasn’t someone to fear. If any of the Wardens were to be feared…it was Yhkon.

  He, unlike Gustor, wasn’t doing anything in place of joining the discussion. He just sat there, staring at his hands, a distant look in his eyes.

  Talea looked away, down to her own hands. Whatever had happened to him, whatever made him bitter toward Narone…it was something she should try to help him with, not resent him for. He was willing to be friends, to build trust and appreciation, she was sure of it.

  As seven o’clock drew near, Ahjul left to change his clothes. When he came back, Ki got up and approached him with a suspicious look, inhaling loudly through his nose. “Nope.” He shook his head, recoiling with a grimace. “Ya still smell like it. Or d’ya alwees smell like that?”

  Grrake got up, rolling his eyes and giving Ki’s arm a whack to shoo him away. “Come on.” He nodded Ahjul toward the Warden’s tent. “Let’s find some soap, and you can wash up in the creek. That should get the smell out.”

  “Make it quick, though.” Yhkon finally broke the silence he’d held for almost two hours. His tone was remote, abrasive, even if she guessed his gloom wasn’t directed at Ahjul. “We leave in fifteen minutes.”

  Grrake frowned, before he and Ahjul disappeared into the shelter. When they came back out, Ahjul left jogging toward the nearby creek, while Grrake returned to the group where they sat around the fire.

  “You could take it easy on him, you know.” Tarol was glowering at the lead Warden. “Unlike the rest of us, he’s too naive to realize you’re just an irritable bully and that he shouldn’t be bothered by you—”

  Yhkon was instantly on his feet and towering over Tarol, who was still sitting on the ground. “That’s enough out of you.” He said it so vehemently that Talea was surprised Tarol didn’t cower.

  Even if he didn’t cower, he did close his mouth and keep it that way.

  Yhkon stormed off. Grrake followed him warily. The rest of them sat in stunned silence.

  Tarol crossed his arms and glared at the fire, shoulders hunched moodily. Talea had gotten the feeling that something had happened between him and Yhkon early on in the trip, or even back in Jalkiva. They hadn’t spoken much, and Yhkon had been harsher with him than with the other Wardens. It seemed as though her suspicion had been correct.

  Yhkon came back moments later, lo
oking angrier than before. Ignoring all of their stares, he started saddling Eclipse and Ahjul’s celith with jerking movements. The poor celiths shied away from him with the whites of their eyes showing. Grrake reappeared too, with a countenance similar to that of the celiths.

  Talea caught Kae’s eye, seeing her concern mirrored there. Larak got up and walked away with what sounded like an exasperated sigh. Well. She rubbed the back of her hand with her thumb. Our trip to the Vegns ought to be interesting.

  Ahjul came back trying to wring out his hair that was just too short to grab. He’d been remarkably quick, but Yhkon was still waiting beside the celiths with arms crossed and jaw set. Ahjul hastily returned the soap and towel to the tent and jogged the rest of the way to the celiths. Talea joined them, probably just in time to avoid having Yhkon snap at her to hurry up.

  He pointed her to Eclipse’s saddle. Yay. Can’t wait. Nothing I’d like more than to be in close quarters with you when you’re practicing your murder-glares…

  “Yhkon? Could she ride with me, actually?” Ahjul spoke up tentatively. “If not I understand, I just was going to tell her more about Terindi, and it would be easier if—”

  “Fine.” Yhkon brushed past her to mount Eclipse, not even waiting for them to mount Ahjul’s celith before trotting away, in the direction of Terindi’s home.

  Ahjul let her climb into the saddle, before getting in behind her. At his gesture, she took the reins and cued the celith into a trot after Eclipse, keeping far enough back that Yhkon would be unlikely to hear them talking. “I can’t believe that worked. Thanks.”

  A backwards glance showed that Ahjul was smiling, but sadly. “You’re welcome…though I did it for him, too. Sometimes when he’s in one of these moods, he just needs a little time to himself.”

  “So hopefully by the time we get to the Vegns’, he’ll be better?”

  “Hopefully.” A pause. “You know he doesn’t mean to hurt you, whenever he snaps or seems annoyed?”

  She craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know he had…?”

  “I didn’t.” Ahjul shrugged. “I just guessed.”

  Facing forward again, Talea watched Yhkon’s back as he posted, up and down, in rhythm with Eclipse’ gait. “So in the future, when he’s in a mood like this, I should just leave him be for awhile?”

  “No.” Ahjul shook his head. “Usually he actually does better with company, I think, so long as it’s just one or two people he feels comfortable with, which you qualify as.”

  He was beginning to remind her of Grrake. It seemed that they had a respect and even affection for Yhkon that the other Wardens did not. Though, in different ways. Ahjul admired him, Grrake…well, he seemed to feel protective of him. “How long have you known him?”

  “Three years, since they started training me to replace the original Silquije Hyrru. But I’ve known of him for more like six years.” He was smiling. “The Wardens are pretty much famous in Calcaria, especially Yhkon and Grrake.”

  I’m sure Yhkon loves being famous. Can’t you just see him, smirking and waving to the cheering crowd and adoring young ladies? Shaking her head at herself, she gave the celith another light kick when it started to slow down. “What happened to the first Silquije Hyrru?”

  “I don’t know the details…I think he was caught doing something illegal, or at least immoral. Not sure why they decided to have me replace him, but they did.”

  Talea gave him a smile over her shoulder. “Well, I’m glad they did.”

  Yhkon had stopped and dismounted ahead of them, so the only response Ahjul made was to reflect her smile. They caught up and got down, Ahjul tying his celith next to Eclipse.

  Talea eyed Yhkon as he finished tying Eclipse. In the dark, it was hard to tell much about his demeanor. Still, his shoulders didn’t look as rigid, his head was up instead of down. It was confirmed when he turned to them upon finishing. “Ready?”

  Nicely done, Ahjul. “Yep.” She gave Yhkon the same smile she’d given Ahjul. “Ought to be fun, right?”

  They went the rest of the distance on foot, until they were standing at the door of the Vegns’ haliop. It was larger than most haliops. No wonder, since Ahjul had mentioned that Terindi had several younger siblings.

  It was a stern-looking man with none of Terindi’s Canadise features that opened the door when Yhkon knocked. Where Terindi’s face was soft and smooth, his was hard, with hooded eyes and a firm mouth.

  “Jasib Vegn.” Yhkon extended his hand. “I’m Yhkon Tavker, lead Warden.”

  Jasib shook his hand, though not particularly happily. “And you’re Terindi’s Warden?” he asked Ahjul, with a skeptical frown, as if he didn’t like the notion of his daughter having a “warden”. Which he probably doesn’t, and I can’t really blame him.

  “Yes.” Despite the unfriendly address, Ahjul smiled kindly. “I’m Ahjul Rye’Shan.”

  Finally, those critical eyes landed on her. “And you’re one of the others with the ability.”

  “Yes sir.” Talea dipped her head to him. “I’m Talea Andul.” Leader of the Eight, apparently. She waited to make sure he wouldn’t try to shake her hand. He didn’t. Most adults didn’t, when introduced to a lower class teenage girl. Yet she could have sworn that irritation flashed across Yhkon’s features. What did he expect? A red carpet rolled out before my feet?

  Jasib let them into the haliop. They entered into a cramped living room.

  It reminded her of home…painfully so. A year ago, would she have entered the haliop and thought it felt cramped? No, she would have noticed how it was more spacious than her own. This had been her life for fifteen years. A laborer’s life.

  Terindi was standing beside a thin woman with nervously flitting eyes, and the Canadise features, except even more distinct.

  The introductions were repeated with Terindi’s mother, whose name was Adashi. Talea saw a couple of young faces peek out from a doorway down the hall, but they must have been instructed not to interrupt, because they disappeared back into the bedroom.

  From there, Adashi and Jasib, mostly Jasib, peppered the Wardens with questions. They wanted Talea to demonstrate her lightning for confirmation, and asked her a little bit about her connection with the Wardens. Jasib seemed leery, even resentful. Adashi, mostly scared. Terindi, meanwhile, appeared to be gaining enthusiasm…in her calm, withdrawn sort of way.

  “How are we supposed to trust you?” Jasib’s frown hadn’t softened at all. It had hardened, if anything.

  “You already asked that.” Yhkon was hardly soft either. Whatever patience he’d entered the haliop with had been sucked dry by Jasib’s distrust and skepticism. “So all I can tell you is the same thing I did last time—what reason do you have not to? We are the only ones with an explanation for Terindi’s ability. We know more about it than anyone. We’re San Quawr, that in and of itself counts for something.”

  “I’ve heard better reasons to trust someone,” Jasib retorted. “And what reasons don’t I have? How about that you’re complete strangers. That you supposedly came from the Shadow Region. That you’re—”

  Ahjul stepped forward. Unlike Yhkon he didn’t look impatient, just anxious. “You have to understand how important this is. Terindi, Talea, and the other wards were given this ability, by Narone Himself, for a very important task: stopping the Eradication.” He looked at Jasib, then Adashi, searchingly. “Don’t you want that?”

  “You’re asking to drag her off and into a war!” Jasib’s fists were clenched. “You think I’m going to agree to this? This is all ridiculous. You can’t just—”

  “Enough!” Yhkon said the word forcefully enough that Jasib fell silent. “This is getting us nowhere. The fact is, unless you manage to change Narone’s mind, she’s going to end up doing what He made her to do. It doesn’t matter whether or not you like it.” He took a deep breath. If it had been meant to calm him, it didn’t work. “So I’m done arguing with you about it. We’ll be back tomorrow. Hopefully by then you’ll see some
sense.” With that, he was marching out the door.

  2

  Kill or Enslave

  T alea was beginning to understand.

  Watching Tarol glare daggers into Yhkon’s back as soon as he turned away, or Larak’s occasional exasperated sigh that was otherwise inexplicable, Haeric’s shadowed frown that often followed one of the lead Warden’s irritable outbursts or silences…it all made sense now. She understood how they felt, and why they felt that way.

  Excluding perhaps Ahjul and Tarol based on lack of experience, and Resh based on questionable character, any of the other Wardens could have taken Yhkon’s place and filled the role with more wisdom and patience. She doubted any of them—well, except maybe Gustor—would have so quickly lost patience with Jasib the night before. And the fact that Yhkon had lost patience and spoken so harshly would probably make their job of convincing the Vegns to let them take Terindi all the harder.

  It was no surprise that there was a sense of resentment between the Wardens. No doubt they looked at Yhkon, at his shortcomings, and wondered why he had been made leader over them.

  She wondered the same thing. And she wondered what sort of a leader she would make.

  “Yhkon?” Talea looked up from the dress she was mending, to where he sat a few feet away, polishing his sword. “How old were you when you were made lead Warden?”

  He held the sword up, squinting at a smudge. “Almost nineteen.” His eyes flitted briefly to hers, before returning to the smudge as he began working at it with a damp cloth. “I know you probably don’t feel ready to be a leader. I didn’t either.” Under his breath, he added, “I still don’t.”

  Technically, those words weren’t exactly comforting. Yet somehow they were. “And you’re sure it’s me? Why not…” She observed the twins, laughing as they practiced their lightning with Terindi. Though their visit to the Vegns that morning hadn’t accomplished much, they had convinced them to let Terindi come to camp with them and meet everyone. Wylan was watching them practice too, from where he stood by himself. “Why not Wylan? He seems a better candidate.”