The Last Canticle: Summoner's Dirge (16 page)

He headed into the house and nodded to Elina, who sat by the window mending a shirt Balin had torn. She smiled up at her brother and set her needle and thread on an end table she’d dragged over.

“How’s the fence coming along?”

Damir moved to the pitcher and basin and poured some water. He splashed his face and rubbed some along his neck to cool his flushed skin. “Good, but if this heat doesn’t relent soon, we may have to stop. Though I must say, Balin doesn’t seem as fazed.”

“You forget, he’s used to such high temperatures. I’m sure he’s experienced worse,” Elina said.

Damir did forget. There were moments in the day that it slammed into him like a fist that he knew so little about the man who lived with them. The man he cared greatly about. In many ways, Balin was still a stranger to them—to him.

Elina gracefully rose to her feet and met Damir’s gaze. She tipped her head to the side. “Are you in love with him?”

Damir faltered. Water dripped down his neck. He carded his fingers through his hair, dampening the strands.

“Love?” The feeling sat heavily on his chest. He could taste it on his tongue. Words he’d wanted to say but didn’t know how—was scared to say. How could he love a man he didn’t know? A man who seemed to carry with him dangerous secrets. “I barely know him in some ways.” He looked closely at her. “Would it bother you?”

“No. We all have secrets, right?” She shrugged her slim shoulders and collected three glasses. She poured water into them from the pitcher and took one for herself.

“Yes, we do.” He shrugged his shoulders. He’d never been able to keep anything from his sister. “I don’t know. I know I don’t want to live without him.”

Elina smiled from behind her glass.

“That sounds like love to me, big brother,” Elina said as she lowered her drink.

Damir flushed and grabbed the glasses of water she’d poured. Love? Damir shook his head. It didn’t matter. He could never tell Balin. The man was restless. And Balin didn’t readily let his emotions be known. Damir didn’t want to give him any reason to run. Overwhelming him with such daunting feelings would surely drive him away. Damir would keep his emotions in check until he knew, with certainty, that he could set them free.

“Finish your mending,” Damir said as he headed for the door. Elina laughed behind him. Her earlier words chased after him like whispering mosquitoes.

Balin took that moment to step inside the house, nearly crashing into Damir. Damir took a quick step back. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone is coming,” Balin said. His expression was grim. Damir looked at Elina and then out the door, beyond Balin. On the horizon, he could see movement a mile or two off.

Damir pressed a glass of water into Balin’s hand. “Drink this.”

Balin took two great gulps, then set the glass aside with Damir’s. “Stay here,” Damir ordered as he followed Balin out front.

Elina didn’t listen and followed behind them. As if sensing impending danger, Chipo trotted around from the side of the house and stood next to Elina.

The shadows in the distance were like an encroaching plague, black locusts that bobbed and wobbled on unsteady legs. The line slowly formed arms and heads and took the shape of foul creatures that bristled in the sun. The sky was split open, an overturned urn that spilled gold and blood. Damir watched them ride in. Elina pressed herself close to Damir and squinted her eyes against the sun. Next to her, Chipo growled, her hackles raised until her fur stood up like sharp spikes.

Balin stood a good distance away from them. Bare-chested, he stepped forward, his hand poised to grab his dagger. Damir knew ever since their last encounter in town that he’d taken to having his knife always present, even while on the farm.

“Who is it?” Elina asked. She smoothed a hand down Chipo’s neck and tried to soothe the wolf.

“Imperial knights,” Balin said.

Darkness bled into color, and faces took shape. General Gaius took the lead; three men rode behind him. Their horses moved casually down the beaten path at a slow crawl toward the farm.

“What could they want?” Damir murmured.

“You two go inside. I’ll deal with them,” Balin ordered tersely. Damir saw a twitch in Balin’s jaw. A black look passed over his eyes, one that burned Damir to his core and filled him with fear. Balin looked like a man pushed toward a ledge, and Damir wasn’t sure why. But he wouldn’t abandon Balin.

“No,” Damir said.

Balin looked at him, brows knit together. “Then get your shirt.”

Damir looked down at his naked chest.
Shit
. It was too late, though. General Gaius had arrived.

General Gaius pulled Severius to a halt five feet shy of Balin. He wore his armor as if it were a second skin. His helmet had been left behind, his long hair like a curtain down his back. He dismounted in a single fluid motion and stepped in front of Severius. Behind him his men followed suit.

Damir took a hesitant step forward. Chipo’s volume dropped a pitch lower, and Elina crouched to whisper soothing words into her ear. Damir shot her a warning look and then turned to General Gaius with what he hoped was a welcoming smile, though his stomach was heavy with unease.

“General Gaius, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Balin stepped up beside Damir. General Gaius’s gaze hovered over Chipo momentarily, then shifted to Balin before settling on Damir. “I’ve come in the name of King Vasilis and the people of Pheor.”

“King Vasilis?” Damir asked skeptically.

General Gaius nodded. “We need your help. Pheor is on the cusp of war with Kalrune. In just a few days’ time, we will leave for battle. The Imperial Army of Pheor is strong, but it is your power that we need to seal our victory in this war.”

“My power? I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord,” Damir rebuffed. It was a lie. Damir knew what he meant, even if he didn’t fully understand his gift.

General Gaius took a step closer. Chipo’s growl turned feral. General Gaius glanced at the wolf, unfazed. “Restrain your hound.”

Damir turned to Elina and whispered, “Calm her.”

Elina tightened her arms around Chipo’s neck and stared wide-eyed up at General Gaius.

“Whatever power you think Damir has, you’re mistaken,” Balin said.

General Gaius smiled. It reminded Damir of the kind of man who owned the world and all its secrets.

“I’d recognize that luminescent reflection anywhere. There are only a few
Animas Stellas
in existence, and you harness that power. You would be the greatest asset to Pheor and her people. I humbly ask that you join us in this cause.”

“And what cause is that? Why are we at war with Kalrune? I may be a farmer, but even I know that there has been no bad blood between our kingdoms for many years. So why now?”

“Kalrune has caused Pheor a great injustice.”

It was a rehearsed answer, but on General Gaius’s lips, it sounded believable to Damir. Pheor was the martyr that Kalrune had raped. War was the only option, the final answer.

“And that is?” Damir asked. He shook his head. “I am not this…Anima Stella. I don’t know what you speak of. But I will not go. I will not partake in senseless bloodshed. This is your plight, not mine.”

The knights behind General Gaius moved forward to stand a step behind their general. They weren’t asking Damir to come. They were here to take him. Asking was just their attempt at appearing courteous.

“Your country needs you. Will you turn your back on her? Turn your back on your people and your king? To deny a draft is to perform treason, do you understand this?” General Gaius kept his tone level; he didn’t need to raise it to get the threat across.

Damir scoffed. “You presume. I love my country, but I will not kill for it.”

“It is you who presumes,” General Gaius answered. “We do not ask you to kill.”

“Then what is my purpose in war?” Damir shook his head. “No, that is final. Please leave my land.”

General Gaius smiled. It left a cold feeling in the pit of Damir’s stomach. General Gaius nodded to the guards. They took a step toward Balin.

“What are you doing?” Damir asked in panic as the guards grabbed Balin’s arms.

“We did not just come for you. This man is a criminal, and I am here to place him under arrest.”

“Criminal? He is not! What has he done?” Damir demanded.

BALIN GLARED AT General Gaius. He kept his limbs relaxed as the guards wrapped their hands around his biceps. He wasn’t concerned with them. What he was concerned with was General Gaius’s response. Balin’s heart thundered in his throat, where it lodged and threatened to choke him.

“Murder,” General Gaius stated.

Damir froze. “What?”

General Gaius held his hand out, and the knight at his side handed him a scroll. He unrolled it and read: “‘Balin Lionborne the Shadowwalker, you are hereby under arrest for forty-six counts of murder. You shall be processed under the courts of King Vasilis, and upon found guilty, shall be sentenced to the gallows. May the Child-God have mercy on your soul.’”

A crestfallen look swept over Damir’s face, and his knees gave out. Elina rushed to his side and wrapped her slim arms around his waist.

“This can’t be true. Balin would never hurt a fly. How could he— That’s absurd!” Damir argued.

He turned a desperate gaze on Balin, and it felt like someone was ripping Balin open. He wanted to look away. He didn’t want to face Damir, whose crystalline eyes pleaded with him to deny the charges.

Balin met Damir’s gaze unwaveringly. His chest ached at the sight of Damir’s heartbroken expression, but he wouldn’t lie. He had let too many words pass unspoken already. “It’s true,” he said, his voice gentle, amazed there wasn’t a tremble to his words.

Damir shook his head vigorously. “No. No…I refuse to believe this! How is it possible?

“Why are you doing this?” Damir directed his attention to General Gaius.

Balin wanted to reach out and take Damir into his arms, to assure him that nothing changed. But everything had.

Is this vindication for walking away from Emperor Folken?

General Gaius rolled the scroll back up and handed it to the knight behind him. “He has a bounty on his head in almost every country. The man that attacked you the night of the festival was attempting to stake claim on that bounty. Fate was bound to catch up with Balin.”

“Let him go,” Damir demanded.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. This man has taken innocent lives, and justice must be served. Although”—General Gaius paused for effect—”I can have the charges dropped if you chose to join us. The crimes he has done against Pheor can vanish, and he will be free, at least in this land. All you must do is come with us.”

“Damir, don’t,” Balin said. “I’ll be fine. Take Elina and go inside.”

Damir looked to him and then at General Gaius. Balin could see the decision in Damir’s eyes before he said it, and he refused to watch Damir hand his life over. Balin slammed his elbow into the nose of the guard on his right and in a flash produced his knife. The blade sank into the throat of the second guard before he could even blink.

Elina let out a cry. Damir jerked her away. The guard crumpled to the ground, a hand around his throat. Chipo growled viciously as the third guard lunged for Balin. In a flash the wolf shot across the few feet separating them.

Balin pivoted out of range from the guard. He moved like a panther, comfortable in each step, his body barely visible as he maneuvered around them. The injured guard drew his sword and gurgled out a jumbled threat. Chipo opened her jaws and jumped.

A blade arched through the air and struck Chipo in the side. A bright scarlet streak followed the sword’s path. Damir scrambled to hold on to Elina as she let out a panicked shriek.

It took only seconds but seemed to last a lifetime.

Elina broke away from Damir. The guard raised his sword to strike Chipo again. Elina threw her body in front of Chipo and shoved the wolf out of the way. The sword came down, and her fragile body fell.

Damir watched it all, eyes wide. Blood spilled, vibrant, apple red. A flash of jade twinkled in the sun. A thread of silver. A spider’s web.

Balin pinned the knight to the ground and stared in horror. General Gaius cursed.

“You fool!”

Damir gaped at his sister’s fallen form. In the distance the sky boiled. Clouds bruised over, blistered feverishly. Darkness descended, the sun blacked out as the storm rolled in. The only light that remained trickled around Damir, painfully bright and unwavering.

“E-Elina?” Damir stammered, his voice broken. Balin released the guard and rushed to be at Damir’s side. He barely caught the man as his knees buckled.

“No,” Damir whispered over and over.

General Gaius grabbed the guard and dragged him back. Fury burned in his eyes. “What have you done, you imbecile?”

Balin didn’t know what came first—the thunder or Damir’s bloodcurdling scream. The sounds clashed together, a concussion of turmoil and agony. In a flash, lightning penetrated the earth. It rose up and descended in fractured columns. Damir lit up the world, charged it with life.

“Get away from him!” General Gaius screamed and grabbed Balin by the arm. He wrenched Balin away from Damir just as the lightning struck. Several spears slammed into Damir.

When the lightning cleared, Damir was gone.

Instead, a funnel cloud descended from the sky. It turned counterclockwise and appeared bloated, like a waterlogged dead body. The cloud threatened to burst open and rain down puss and maggots. It tore down the center and from its womb, a dragon breached.

Black scales reflected each flash of lightning in a million starbursts. Large wings unfurled and cut through the stormclouds like knives. From the shadows, claws grew, sprouting horns and breathing fire. It was darkness sheathed in light, rippled like a cosmic sea, and carried on the dragon’s wings was Zoria.

The dragon swooped low and let out a roar that shook the earth and rattled the trees. Balin barely jumped from the dragon’s path as it swept over the farmland. General Gaius grabbed Severius’s reins and tried to hold the horse down as he reared up.

“What in malltod
is
that?” Balin shouted. He scrambled to find Damir, but the singed earth where he’d crouched was bare.