Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) (25 page)

“Less so, but she will recover.”

“How bad?” Kole asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I should see her.”

“No. Not now. There are several Faeykin here. Some trained under Ninyeva at the Lake and others under the Faey of the Eastern Valley. They’ll have her back soon enough.”

“Would that Iyana were here.”

“If she were, do you really think you’d make it out of Hearth?”

Kole found himself chucking despite the mood.

“I take it that means you won’t try to stop me?”

Karin paused.

“I doubt very much if I could. But I have to be honest, Kole. I don’t know if the answers are in the north.”

“They’re not here.”

“No, they aren’t. But some are starting to see you as an answer, Kole. And they have more sway than I.”

“This Merchant Council?” Kole nearly spat the words.

“The very same. You’ve been at the center of some bright events in all this darkness, son. People are starting to take notice. The leaders of Hearth have noticed, and they wonder if keeping you here might not serve our people better.”

Karin continued to talk, telling his son of the Merchant Council’s various members— what he knew of them, at least. His father was probably the most well traveled person in the Valley. It stood to reason he knew much and many. He seemed to have a great deal of respect for Captain Caru. It was strange, Kole thought, that he had no memory of meeting the man whose bed he had occupied the previous night. And there was another kernel of guilt, that Kole had slept once again as the Captain had defended his people.

As his father spoke, Kole was split between listening and seeing. Even now, in the midst of a siege out of nightmare, the central market of Hearth bustled with activity, and not all of it was concentrated on the wounded that occupied the great billowing tents. When compared to the open air of the lakes and forests to the south, the Red Bowl was a confused press and jumble, people rushing to and fro. Normally, they would be peddling their wares, but now, merchants were replaced by physicians, some of them sporting the glowing greens of the Faeykin. Instead of baubles, they carted the wounded, groaning and grasping.

On the battlefield, the scents of rot and mess were masked by ash and ozone, which covered the slow horrors beneath the fighting. Here among the sick, the rusted smell of blood covered the sweeter odor of infection. Where the Faeykin were too few to purge it, they used flame to burn it.

In all the years of war with the Dark Kind and in the sorry conflicts before, a sight like this had never been witnessed in the Valley.

Jakub’s expression did not so much as quiver throughout their walk, the sick and wounded seeming apparitions to him. For some reason, it made Kole pity him for the childhood he had lost. In that moment, Kole felt thankful for his own, however fleeting it might have been.

After a time, they came to a looming structure carved of white stone. It was same rock that ringed the northern section of the city. Its gate was adorned with gold reliefs, and a bronze dome capped its central tower, albeit one caked with green decay as if it, too was wounded beyond saving.

As they passed the gates, which sat on the borders of the market, Kole studied the depictions. They marked an obvious attempt to pay homage to the Emberfolk of the desert, but they came off gaudy and strange. The interior was no better.

In Kole’s experience, there was nothing in the Valley that could be considered ornate of a scale to match the stories of old. An antique tea set, perhaps, or maybe a carpet designed in the old way. Ninyeva had some of these things, as did Doh’Rah. Even Karin had an eye for art—silverware and the like. But the truly magnificent was reserved for the desert palaces that had passed into legend, where jewels adorned every handle on every door, the only things shining brighter than the sun above being the structures of its desert children below.

The inside of the Merchant Council’s shared meeting place was not one of these structures, but he recognized an attempt when he saw one. If the myriad artistic styles on display—from the carpets ringing floor and wall to the murals on the flat ceiling—matched the egos he was about to endure, facing one Sage or another would seem nothing by comparison. In its own way, there was a sickness here that ran deeper than that festering in the tents outside.

Kole tried to lose the thoughts as they crossed to the bottom of a spiral stair. Mahogany steps ringed by a black rail curled up into the light of too many lanterns, and he bade Shifa sit at the base. Jakub glared at him, daring him to try the same.

Kole did not, but the boy stayed with Shifa anyway.

At the top, Karin opened a door that seemed older than the rest and ushered Kole into a shockingly modest den. In place of the lanterns ringing the stairwell, the whole affair was cast into a strange light from twin hearths on opposite walls. Faces turned to regard him that may as well have been masks for all he could read from them at a glance.

“Karin Reyna,” a middle-aged man standing at the head of an oval table said. He carried himself with the bearing of a man at arms, and though he wore no formal mark of rank, Kole remembered him as the Captain of Hearth’s white walls. “And his son, Kole Reyna.”

Talmir Caru did not wait for a response from the assembled merchants and approached Kole with his hand extended.

“Welcome again,” Talmir said in a low voice, sharing a conspiratorial smirk. “I know our first meeting may have been lost on you.”

“There was a lot going on,” Kole said, trying to sound more sure than he felt, which was distinctly uncomfortable. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Someone at the table scoffed, and Kole craned his head around to see a woman in white shaking her head, bemused, her raven-black hair swaying. She met Kole’s stare and winked.

“If you think those chambers hospitable, my boy, you’d think mine were fit for the gods,” she said, all silk.

“And how would you know the difference?” a peevish-looking man asked from her left. He wore a crooked lavender hat and no small degree of irritation.

The woman offered him a smile, though Kole noted a subtle shift in her eyes, a steeliness that seemed to make the older man squirm ever so slightly. Just as quickly as it appeared, however, the look was gone, replaced by a burst of girlish laughter.

“Oh, come now, Yush,” she said. “We are all progressive here, are we not?” She looked back at Kole—looked him up and down. His martial mind attributed the roving of her eyes to an attempt at sizing him up, and his masculine side came to the same conclusion. “Though I am more progressive than most.”

If the Captain was at all embarrassed by his sometimes-lover’s display, he covered it well, leading Kole and his father over to the table, where Karin took the woman’s proffered hand and offered a kiss.

“Rain,” she said, reaching for Kole. He took it and gave it a squeeze, injecting a bit more heat than usual. She withdrew with a sharp yelp that turned into a chuckle.

“Rain Ku’Ral,” she finished, shaking out her hand. She watched Kole with intense interest as Talmir made the rest of the introductions.

There was Yush Tri’Az, he of the purple hat. He was flanked by two female council members. Kole noted the way the three of them watched he and his father with keen interest, if not outright suspicion. He also noted their standoffish attitude toward the Captain.

Kenta Griyen was a thin man who looked as though he bore the collective weariness of all those gathered. He was the head physician and his eyes kept darting toward the door. Kole knew he would rather be helping his people than basking in the formality of a council meeting.

Aside from them, the final member of the council—or perhaps just an observer—was a man whose skin was darker than any Kole had seen, painting a stark contrast to irises that bore the burnt amber hue of overripe honey. Kole wondered if he was the exotic result of Emberfolk mixing with the Faey. Even from a distance, Kole could feel the heat radiating from the alcove in which he sat. He was an Ember, and a strong one.

“Allow me to introduce one of Hearth’s staunchest defenders,” Talmir said, indicating the quiet fellow. “Second Keeper Creyath Mit’Ahn. Without him, it is quite possible—probable, even—that the wall would have fallen a week ago.”

One of the council members beside Yush scoffed, but it sounded not far off from a choke when Creyath flashed his too-white teeth in her direction. The low fire in the grate nearest him flared for a moment, and in the light, Kole could see that the Ember was wrapped around the chest in bandages. That explained his absence from the battlements, then.

“Yes, yes,” Yush said, waving his hand, fingers waggling. “We’re all very grateful we have brave men such as you to defend us, Mit’Ahn. Now let us get on to more pressing concerns.”

“What concerns press more than the safety of our people?” Talmir asked, an edge in his tone, and Yush sputtered, his cheeks going red. “Besides, I only meant to introduce one Night Lord slayer to another.”

Kole and Creyath considered one another once more, and Kole thought he saw the other man offer a slight nod. He returned it.

“Night Lord?” Yush whined. “Night Lords?” He held up his hands, looking from one face to the next as if he were at a loss. “The last of their ilk was slain by the White Crest in the passes a generation ago.”

“Are you telling two Embers what they fought?” Talmir asked. “When you weren’t there?”

“I needn’t have been there!” Yush shouted. “Those were abominations. We are thankful you felled the beasts, but they were just that: beasts. They were not Night Lords. Not true ones, in any case.”

“Perhaps not,” Kenta said, his tone even as he considered Kole. “But formidable nonetheless.”

He could not be sure, but Kole thought he had the room mapped out well enough. Yush and his lackeys made up one triangle, while Captain Caru seemed to have the respect, if not the open support, of the remaining pair. He was not sure if Creyath held sway here, since he did not appear to be a member of the Merchant Council. Now it only remained to be seen how Kole fit into the groups’ respective plans, and how he could keep from fitting.

“We are gathered to make decisions,” Talmir said, moving on from his spat with Yush. “The Valley is currently in the midst of the darkest storm it has ever witnessed. Take it literally or take it any way you like it. There it is. We’ve had no word from the Fork since the siege began, and we’ve seen strange faces amidst the Corrupted once the ink has drained away. Some are undoubtedly victims from the Scattered Villages, but many are foreigners.”

“I fail to see the relevance—

“The relevance,” Talmir cut in, “is that we have no way of knowing when this tide will end. Or if it will.”

Kole could use that to his advantage.

“As for our brothers to the south,” he glanced at Kole and his father, “Karin’s report is the last we’ve received, but their position is decidedly more positive than the view from our balconies would suggest.”

“Get to it, Talmir,” Rain said, her tone more solid and resolute than it had been before. She stared at the Captain hard enough to make him flinch and swallow.

“I was standing on the gate when Kole Reyna, the young Ember you see before you, cut his way through the swarm to reach it,” he said.

“I was not alone,” Kole said meekly.

“No,” Talmir allowed, looking at him before turning back to the table. “But he may well have been, for all the good it did the Dark Kind. I’ve never seen anything like it. That power. He was more an Ember King than a Keeper.”

Kole blushed despite the mood.

“Forgive me,” Yush started, raising his brows at Kole before switching his challenging stare on the Captain, “but how is he any different, any more potent, than First Keeper Balsheer, or even Mit’Ahn over there? What about Misha Ve’Gah? No doubt she’d have something to say about it.”

“She wasn’t there,” Talmir said. “If you want the most accurate account, ask the earth before the gate, which is broken and scorched beyond anything I’ve seen. Truly, we are lucky he didn’t bring the timbers down around him. He surely could have.”

And now it was Kole’s turn to swallow. This was the sort of talk he had been dreading. He began to steel himself for the inevitable argument. He would make it a short one. Direct.

“No,” Talmir said, disgust evident. “Seeing that would bring you too close to the fighting.”

“If Talmir Caru says it,” Creyath spoke from his corner, “then it is so.”

“Take my word or leave it,” the Captain said. “But the truth remains. I have not seen a force so powerful in all my life.”

“I saw,” Kenta said. “I saw the white rocks spilling up from the broken earth like bones. I saw some of those besides. It was … a sight.”

“He is cut from the same stuff as his mother,” Karin said, and all eyes turned to regard him. “Sarise A’zu.”

A hush descended. Many had died in the Valley. Many had fallen to the Dark Kind. But none quite in the way Sarise had. It was a reminder both of the void she had left and of the fact that most in the chamber had not connected Kole with her. It made him angry. His heat rose.

“Well?” Yush broke the silence. “What have you to add, Kole Reyna? What of your power?”

Kole cleared his throat.

“I don’t know what I can add that hasn’t already been said. I don’t remember much from the fields, save for the fact that I called to the flames and they answered. It was the second time I’ve felt power like that in near as many weeks.”

“Does it frighten you?” Kenta asked, his voice calm, considering.

“Fear has no place in it,” Kole said, voice projecting confidence he did not feel. His mother’s name still echoed in his mind, her face blurry but for in dreaming. “There is a time and a place for power.”

“And where and when will that be?” Rain asked.

It surprised Kole how much her demeanor had shifted in the space of minutes. This new woman was authoritative and direct. Apparently he was not alone. She earned a few glances for the question.

“I thought we were speaking plain, here,” she said, ignoring them. “My boy, we all know you did not come here to rescue your brothers and sisters in Hearth, noble as that may have been. We know of Larren Holspahr’s quest. We know what he would seek to do.”