Legacy of the Blood (The Threshold Trilogy) (31 page)

L’avan saw Kirin nod in satisfaction and then reach into the pouch
on his belt. Kirin pulled out a short black rod that came to a jagged point,
like a broken bone. He pointed it to the Qetza on the far end of the
semi-circle, and a red bolt of unholy power burst forth from the end. The Qetza
gave a shrieking hiss as the attack charred its skin.

Kirin did not stop with the single attack. He continued to send
blood-red bolts down the line of Qetza.

“What are you doing?” bellowed L’avan. “Are you insane? You are
killing them!”

“You are on the wrong side of this war,” roared Kirin with a mad
expression on his face. “You cannot fight darkness!”

Sesa swooped out of the line of Kirin’s fire and whipped her tail
to knock the traitor from his harness.

Kirin cried out in pain, but he held fast. The Qetza carrying him
did several rapid barrel rolls until the harness gave way, and Kirin fell to
his death with a raging scream.

The remaining Qetza struggled to get the wind and lightning back
under control, but it was too late. The gale was in a frenzy, and the focused
beam had turned into a wave of force. All armies—both light and dark—were being
swept up the path that led to the Threshold.

Sesa realized what was happening, and she twisted her head to
reach back and snap L’avan’s harness with her teeth.

“Sesa,” the soldier cried in alarm.

“Roll when you hit the ground,” ordered the Qetza.

She jolted him into the open air with a vigorous stroke of her
wings, and her
vyala
-enhanced breath blew him towards safety.

L’avan was buffeted mercilessly, and he soon lost all sense of
direction. He knew that he was not falling as fast as he should have been, but
the terror he felt was still overwhelming.

The howling storm rang in his ears, and he could not see what was
happening on the battlefield. He hit the ground hard, and did his best to roll,
but he felt his arm snap from the impact.

For several moments L’avan laid on the ground, dizzy and
bewildered. When he lurched to his feet and looked around, the air was filled
with a heavy silence and the land around him was completely empty.

***

Adesina watched in horror as the
vyala
of the Qetza went
terribly wrong. The wind and lightning swept up everything—dead or alive—in its
path and forced it through the Threshold. Creatures of both light and darkness
struggled to hold on to something, to save themselves from the tempest, but it
was all in vain.

Even the Serraf, the Keepers of the Thresholds, could not prevent
themselves from being carried through the gateway.

When every creature had passed into the other realm, the Threshold
snapped close and the cave was abruptly left in darkness.

Adesina remained in the Dream long enough to see the residue of
the powerful magic that had taken place so long ago. The tapestry of
vyala
was still in place. It had simply been frozen between worlds.

Understanding filled her mind, and she came to the awful
realization that her previous hope had been wrong.

Basha
could
open the Threshold again.

All she needed was the right key.

Adesina jerked awake with her heart pounding and her mind racing.
Ravi was already at her side with his brow contracted in concern.

“Ma’eve?”

She was having a difficult time separating the Dream from the
present. “They were betrayed,” she gasped.

“Yes,” acknowledged Ravi.

“They did not mean to cross over to the other realm.”

“I know, dear one.”

Adesina’s thoughts became clearer, and she sat up with a jerk.
“The Threshold is not closed, Ravi. Basha can open it.”

He inclined his head. “If she completes the ritual, yes.”

The young queen frowned. “The ritual? But, the
vyala
is
still there. The Serraf did not have the time to remove it properly.”

“The
vyala
is there,” explained the Rashad, “but it is
dormant. The ritual must be completed to return power to the Threshold.”

Adesina began to understand. “That is why Basha needs L’iam.”

“Yes…”

She gave him a questioning glance, and he casually looked away.
Adesina could tell that he was deliberately shielding his thoughts from her,
and that made her suspicious.

“What is it?”

His expression was a picture of innocent confusion. “I do not know
what you mean.”

She decided to try a different approach. “You said that this Dream
was a
vyuhava
.”

“It could be,” reasoned Ravi, “if it plays a part in an important
decision.”

“How do I know if it will?”

A smile briefly touched his lips. “You will know.”

Adesina blew out her breath in exasperation. “Is all of the Dream
relevant to my decision, or only part of it? Should I have given more attention
to a specific section?”

“Only time will tell.”

It seemed that so much had happened in the Dream, and it was
difficult for Adesina to keep everything straight. The images were as vivid now
as they had been in her Dream—the masterful weaving of
vyala
, the
distant clamor of battle, the sacrifice of the Serraf, the betrayal of Kirin…

Those pieces of history were engraved on her heart.

She could feel the pain, the sorrow, the broken hope—all of it, as
if it were her own.

How had L’avan learned to move on from such a dark past? The tales
of Adesina’s people always portrayed him as a wise and gentle man, full of love
and hope for the future.

Mar’sal approached Adesina and Ravi hesitantly, uncertain if he
should interrupt their conversation. The young queen hitched the corners of her
mouth upward and gestured him forward.

It was easy to tell that her smile was forced, but he accepted her
invitation. “I brought you your breakfast cake, Adesina. Faryl and Than’os have
been practicing altering herbs, and she made some sort of paste to spread on
the top of the cake. It is actually quite delicious.”

Adesina’s smile became genuine. “Thank you, Mar’sal.”

The young man waited for her to bite into the lump of grain and
dried meat before returning to the others. He watched her face, to see if she
liked what she tasted.

The desert cakes were nutritious, but quite bland. The paste added
a lively tang to the mixture, and it was a welcome change from the monotony of
their daily diet.

Mar’sal could see that she was pleasantly surprised, and he
grinned. “I will tell Faryl that you approve.”

The broke up camp with practiced efficiency, and they continued on
their journey eastward. The terrain was still sandy, and the horses only kept
up to speed due to the hoof covers that had been purchased in Jame. The covers
prevented the hooves from sinking too far into the sand, which made walking
easier for the horses.

After the travelers took their midday break, they came upon an
unexpected ridge. They paused to survey the land ahead.

“Amazing,” breathed Mar’sal in wonder.

Adesina couldn’t help but agree.

The desert before them was a mass of elaborate dunes that
stretched out for leagues. The valley had more wind than the higher ground, and
the dunes were ever shifting as a result. Each dune was long and narrow, giving
it a snake-like shape that moved as if it were living.

Kendan scowled at the sight. “Perhaps we should find a way to go
around this valley.”

“Why?” asked Faryl, looking surprised.

“We do not know what is down there. For all we know, there are
monsters underneath the sand and that it what gives it that appearance.”

Ravi slowly shook his head. “I do not sense living creatures—other
than the usual ones, of course. The dunes hold nothing but sand. However, that
does not mean that there is no danger in venturing among them.”

Adesina turned to the Tracker. “Maizah?”

Maizah simply pointed towards the valley.

The young queen gave a shrug. “Basha is travelling with a guide in
that valley. It cannot hold too many perils.”

Kendan turned his scowl on her, and Adesina knew that he
disapproved of her lack of caution.

She pointedly ignored him and gestured to the rest of the group.
“Let us not waste time.”

She nudged Torith forward and the horse gingerly picked his way
down the slope. Ravi was not bothered by the shifting sands underfoot, and he
made it to the valley floor much sooner than the others.

The Rashad was inspecting the surrounding area when the others
made it to the lower level.

“This would be an ideal location for an ambush,” he rumbled in
dissatisfaction.

Both Kendan and Adesina nodded uneasily.

“It seems wisest to avoid this valley,” insisted Kendan.

Part of Adesina agreed, but there was a strange instinct tickling
the back of her mind and urging her forward.

“No,” she responded after a pause. “We will keep going.”

Her former teacher brought his mount close to hers and spoke in a
harsh whisper. “Do not be foolish, Adesina. I know that we do not always agree,
but now is not the time to be headstrong. This area is a trap waiting to happen.”

She was startled by his vehement tone. “I am not making this
choice simply to be contrary, Kendan.”

“Then, why?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. “I…do not know. Please, trust me to
make this decision.”

He stared at her for several long moments before his expression
softened. “Sometimes I forget that you have grown up so much. As my student,
you never would have admitted uncertainty.”

Adesina gave a short laugh. “Yes, well, that was a long time ago.
I have since learned that there is much I do not know.”

The travelers began riding again, into the maze of snake-like
dunes.

“What do you do when you find yourself without an answer?”
inquired Kendan, keeping his horse next to Adesina’s.

She gave a rueful smile. “I trust that there is
someone
who
does.”

His face darkened slightly. “Do you mean some sort of deity? I
know that the L’avan are religious people, but I never thought I would see you
caught up in such nonsense.”

Adesina grinned. It had not been that long ago that she had felt
the same way about the “superstitions” of the L’avan.

“It is true that the L’avan are quite religious, and I admit that
I still have trouble understanding all of their philosophies. But…” She paused
to collect her thoughts.

“But?” he prompted.

“I first had to understand the importance of believing in
something
greater than myself. That, to me, is the true lesson that I have learned from
my people.”

Kendan considered her words for a while before nodding
thoughtfully. “I can see the merit in that.”

An urgent motion from Maizah brought them up short.

She pointed first to the sky, where a hawk was circling above
them, and then to the dunes to their left.

Adesina summoned a trickle of
vyala
to sense what was
hidden among the sands. She held up a single finger and gestured to Ravi. He
crept silently out of sight, and an expectant pause followed his disappearance.

He reappeared suddenly at their side. “There is a wounded man
hiding there. He has an arrow in his shoulder.”

Adesina immediately dismounted and started forward, but Kendan
caught her arm.

“Wait, he could be dangerous.”

She gave him a pointed look and shot off a few sparks of energy
from the tips of her fingers to make a point. He let go of her arm, a mixture
of amusement and admiration in his eyes.

Adesina slipped over the surface of the desert sand, followed
closely by Ravi. As she came around the bend, she saw the figure of a man
dressed in rough clothing the exact color of the sand around him. Crimson
blossomed on his shoulder where the arrow protruded, and blood also stained his
gloves.

A turban and scarf were wrapped around his head, hiding all of his
features except for his dark eyes. They were like black, bottomless pools with
pain and apprehension rippling across the surface. When he saw Ravi by
Adesina’s side, those emotions were joined by wonder.

Adesina moved slowly to avoid alarming him. She held out her hands
to show she was not armed. “I will not harm you,” she said softly, and knelt by
his side.

His body tensed as she drew near, but he made no other movement.
Adesina began to hum quietly as she used her
vyala
to probe his injured
shoulder. Ravi’s rich voice joined hers, harmonizing and creating a tune both
soothing and mesmerizing.

Adesina knew that she would need more of her
vyala
to heal
his wound, and she felt the familiar wave of fear at the thought.

I will help you, Ma’eve.

Ravi’s mind was like an anchor as she called forth the torrent of
her power.

Adesina pulled out the arrow and sealed the wound with a flash of
vyala
.
The stranger cried out in pain and raised a hand to press against his shoulder.
When he realized the pain had vanished, he pulled off a glove to feel the
healed skin.

“How did you do that?” he asked, bewildered.

He spoke with a thick accent, and the words rolled off his tongue
like molten lava. The heated motion of his voice was strangely contrasted by
the cool stillness of his eyes. Adesina was puzzled by all of the contradictions
she saw in him.

“I am gifted,” she replied simply.

He unwrapped the scarf from around his face, revealing cinnamon
brown skin and finely chiseled features. He was remarkably handsome and younger
than she anticipated, perhaps thirty years old or so.

“You are not a Desert Dweller,” he stated, examining her strange
coloring and glancing at her feline companion.

Adesina shook her head. “No, I am L’avan.”

He seemed to comprehend immediately. “Magic-users. I have never
before seen one of your kind.”

Her brow furrowed. “How is it you have heard of us so far from out
homeland?”

A small smile played at the corner of his shapely lips. “Down here
the L’avan are no more than myths from exotic lands. However, this,” he pointed
to his shoulder, “leaves no room for doubt.”

Ravi sat back on his haunches. “What is your name?”

The man’s eyes widened in shock. “You speak! How...?” His glance
turned questioningly to Adesina.

She quickly corrected his assumption. “It is none of my doing. The
Rashad are a race much older than the L’avan.”

Ravi ignored the young man’s astonishment and tried his question
again. “This is Adesina and I am Ravi, her guardian. What is your name?”

“Savir,” he stammered, “Savir an Kavi nan Darshan ol Henka.”

“And how did you come to be wounded, Savir an Kavi nan Darshan ol
Henka?”

He held up a hand. “Please, I am simply Savir to my friends. You
have saved my life, and for that you have my eternal friendship.”

Ravi inclined his head. “Savir, then.”

The young man nodded, as if sealing a pact. Then he straightened
his back and crossed his legs beneath him. “I was attacked by a group of Hanta
on my way back from hunting. They stole my kill, and left me for dead.”

“Harsh actions,” murmured Ravi.

Savir gave a half shrug. “This is a harsh land. Food is scarce
before the storms—all creatures go into hiding. Desert Dwellers take what they
must, and the Hanta have no love for my people.”

A sharp cry from the hawk circling above them brought his eyes
upward in alarm. “The storms are approaching. There is only just enough time to
reach my village. Do you have shelter?”

Adesina and Ravi exchanged glances.

“No, we do not.”

Savir was amazed at their lack of planning. “How can you enter the
desert when you know you cannot survive?”