Page 52 of Darkness Births the Stars #1
“No!” He broke free with a brash gesture.
“I won’t be silenced. Just this morning Yarmin was nearly killed by the Cave Troll in the eastern forest. A Troll that was always harmless.
Chaos is rising once more and your gods are doing nothing to stop it.
You think your flower garlands will protect you?
” He ripped off a string of bright azaleas, throwing it on the ground, the red petals looking ominously like splotches of blood.
“The Rakash will only laugh when they cut you all to pieces.”
“You also know the Cave Troll is no longer a problem,” I said calmly, making Calder whirl around in surprise.
“Rada!”
“You can find that Troll close to the fork in the road leading to the Haythorne farm.” I kept my tone deliberately light, as if dealing with the threat had been no big deal.
Drawing attention to myself like this was bad enough, and if I had seen any other way, I would have avoided it.
“It would be wise to send someone to take care of the remains, or they might lure in some predators,” I added, seeing that Commander Adesh had arrived with Ursa, the blonde Northerner half a head taller and a lot broader than the lean half-Djein.
“You killed it?” Ursa exclaimed, her blue eyes filling with awe.
“It had attacked Calder and Yarmin, leaving me no choice, but yes, I killed it.” I gave them a saucy smile and winked.
“I still know how to use my spear.” When I had first come to Dalath, I had cultivated a reputation as a competent but wary soldier who had fought valiantly in the Sundering Wars, judging it better that people knew I could defend myself.
“Well, it seems the gods saw fit to send us aid, then, in the form of one of our own.”
Mayor Brim. The dark red jacket of his office had its golden buttons primly closed over his wide chest, his impressive black mustache quivering in slight agitation as he hastened to stand beside me. I had wondered where he was. He usually had a fine nose for trouble brewing in his village.
His smile at me was overly jovial, as was the arm he slung around my shoulder, but as long as it helped defuse the tension, I wouldn’t complain.
“The village is in your debt, Miss Rada,” he declared grandly, sweeping his other arm wide. Maker! I was definitely not in the mood for one of his long-winded speeches, even if I was the object of his praise.
“Only doing my duty as a citizen of this wonderful village,” I mumbled, trying to inconspicuously slink back to my wagon.
I had no luck. The mayor relentlessly herded me toward Father Arallan with an enthusiastic exclamation. “Nonsense! You are our heroine. Father Arallan, I think a prayer in thanks for our good fortune would be in order? ”
In the end, I had to endure not one, but five prayers.
Blessed lyr , I’d thought the days of keeping a smile frozen on my face as flowers rained down around me and burning incense made my head throb were long past me.
The villagers mostly prayed to Aramaz these days, sometimes calling on Tanez.
But then, worshipping the Ten was not truly an option any longer, was it?
After Father Arallan and his believers had finally moved on, Mayor Brim pulled me aside.
“Would you have some time for me, Miss Rada? There is something I want to discuss with you.” His clear gray eyes darted to the alley next to the temple, leading down to the river.
“Perhaps I can invite you to an early lunch in the tavern?”
“Sure,” I replied with a sincere smile. Despite his sometimes overly grand words, I liked Dalath’s mayor, knowing he had his people’s best interests in mind. “I will just secure the wagon and—”
When I looked toward my wagon, I saw Bane bolting off toward the temple. I cursed, excused myself to Mayor Brim, and hurried after my cat.
The grand wooden temple was still and empty as I followed Bane inside, multicolored lights streaming in through the stained-glass windows. The making of the world, the founding of Lyrheim, the creation of the Tree—I did not need to glance at the windows to know what they depicted.
Against my will, my eyes roamed over the last one next to the altar with its five-pointed star. The chaining of the Fallen One. The dark, terrible shade depicting Noctis bore no resemblance to him. My hands clenched into fists.
A familiar, deep timbre jolted me from my reverie. “I’ve never seen you in the temple before.”
Kyree’s feet barely made a sound on the smooth oak floor, the only sign of his approach the slight rustling of his wings.
The tip of his left wing, forever crippled and melted into an awkward shape by dragon fire, whizzed over the floor, while the luscious, impossibly soft-looking dove-gray feathers of his right wing were tucked neatly against his back.
I gave the dark-haired Aerieth an amused look.
A contently purring Bane was snuggled in his muscular, dark brown arms, left bare by his black leather vest.
“And I wouldn’t be here if Bane hadn’t run away.” I laughed. “I should have known he scented you. Sometimes I think he’d prefer moving in with you instead of living on the farm with me.”
Kyree smiled, scratching the cat’s head.
“A healer’s house is no place for a cat,” he said, a little wistfully.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt earlier?
” He moved too swiftly for me to avoid his touch, his firm but gentle fingers cradling my injured wrist. His gaze sharpened. “This is still tender.”
“You had enough to do with Yarmin,” I said, pulling back my hand before he could weave another spell. Kyree was my friend, but I couldn’t risk him discovering my true identity. “Besides, it was already much better.” My lip twitched guiltily. “I might have overtaxed it today.”
He gave me a disapproving head shake. “You were lucky that was all that happened. What were you thinking, taking on that Troll all on your own?”
“I could hardly let him eat Yarmin and Calder,” I answered, rubbing my aching wrist. “It will heal. In time. And if it eases your worry, I promise to be more careful in the coming tendays and not overdo it.”
“Ah, yes.” A curious gleam entered Kyree’s eyes. “I heard you have help on the farm now. Tall, dark, and very handsome help, if the Underforges are to be believed.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Perhaps I should come over for a visit. This village is sadly lacking in good-looking men. ”
Oh, blessed lyr —Dolores. I was probably better off not knowing what gossip was going around Dalath right now.
“Bele is just an old acquaintance,” I tried to deflect, my voice catching suspiciously on Noctis’s fake name.
“That doesn’t sound like just anything. But fine, keep your secrets.” Kyree’s voice turned somber. “I am the last person to begrudge others those.”
One thing I cherished most about my friendship with the healer was that he knew when to let me be.
I pressed his shoulder, a wry smile on my lips.
“If only those secrets would leave us alone, huh?” Clucking my tongue at Bane, I scooped up the cat from the Aerieth’s arms. “I have to return to my wagon. Mayor Brim is waiting for me. He wanted to discuss something.”
“I’ll accompany you.” Kyree gave Bane one last pat on the head. “I just came over to grab some bandages from Father Arallan’s stores to replace the ones I used.” A slight frown appeared on his forehead. “My last order from Rasga didn’t arrive.”
“How is Yarmin?”
“He’ll survive. The leg will be as good as new in a few tendays. He was lucky you were there, though, or things might have ended differently.”
We moved toward the entrance together, Kyree pausing once more in front of the last window, his head tilting as he considered it.
“Do you ever wonder what drove her to it?”
I didn’t need to ask who he meant. The colorful glass depicted the Ten in all their glory: Aramaz in white and gold, the sun rising behind him; Namtaz and Ashur surrounded by blue and turquoise waves; Zamani and Sha’am amid their flames; Kyree’s own maker Enlial and their companion Khiraz floating on silver winds.
Only one depiction had been scratched out by angry hands, leaving just a few scattered stars of the Lady of Light.
Dalath was not a rich village. They lacked the funds to properly scorch my image from all places of worship, unlike the grander temples of the Ten in the cities.
“Some say she did it out of desire,” I said tonelessly. “Desire for power. Desire for freedom. Desire for a man she could not have.”
Moments like these made me wonder if Enlial’s enchantment still held, or if Kyree suspected something and was trying to get a reaction out of me.
But his handsome face remained unreadable as he stared at the window above us.
“No, I don’t think that was it,” he murmured.
“I think it was something else entirely.” With a bitter laugh, he shook himself and motioned at the door.
“But who knows what moves the hearts of the immortal? Surely not our fates. Calder was right about that much.”
He could not have been more wrong, I thought, as I bade him goodbye to return to my wagon. The fate of this world and its inhabitants had never left my mind, even when I had still been a goddess.