Daybreak (17 page)

You were magnificent
.

She growled again, and this time a longing note trembled at the end of her voice. 

Somehow, he managed to be reasonable. “We can’t land now — we have to at least make it past the Cleft. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting hexed.”

She rumbled her reluctant agreement and flew on, heading towards the mountains.

A few moments later, they arrived in the Valley. The clouds were so dense and gray that Kael couldn’t see beneath them, but he knew by the change in the wind that they’d crossed into the shadow of the mountains.
 

The air had grown colder — stiff with the long winter held pinned inside the mountains’ peaks. Jagged spires rose to pierce the clouds ahead of them, and Kael’s heart thudded unexpectedly at the sight.

The King’s Cleft — the narrow mountain pass between Midlan and the Valley — was packed with snow. White filled the long vein from its back to its end. Though the end nearest to Midlan had begun to melt, the snow still climbed nearly to its lip.

As Kyleigh flew them beneath the clouds, little white flakes drifted across Kael’s face — leaving cold, wet trails behind them. Winter still clung to the Valley. With any luck, it would hold a little while longer.

A small castle sat at the Valley’s start, just inside the mouth of the Cleft. It was perched atop a slight hill of jagged rock. Kael couldn’t help but marvel at how stout its walls had become, and how high its towers had grown. An outer wall ringed the castle and its hill. He smiled when he saw faint lights winking from the windows of the many stone houses settled within it. 

It seemed the wildmen had been hard at work rebuilding the fortress of Thanehold from the ruins of the Earl’s old castle.

Kael was so busy marveling at the thickness of the outer wall that he didn’t notice Kyleigh coming in for a landing. She struck the ground on all fours — and the sudden halt sent him sailing over her left wing.

He saw the ground hurtling towards him and managed to catch himself on his shoulder. He rolled across the snow-covered earth, ears burning with a mix of slush and Kyleigh’s rumbling laughter. “Well, maybe next time you won’t drop out of the sky like a blasted rock!”

By the time he’d pulled himself to his feet, she was already human. “That was a perfectly good landing, I’ll have you know,” she said, rolling her shoulders back. “Had I dropped out of the sky, you would’ve felt it. Now … wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Not that I recall,” he said as he began marching for Thanehold’s front. He looked for a gate, but didn’t see one. From end to end, the whole thing seemed to be nothing more than a line of solid rock.

Kyleigh jogged to catch up. “I believe you were in the middle of telling me something … something about my being magnificent.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

“You very clearly thought it.”

“It was a
fleeting
thought,” he said off-handedly, gazing down the wall. He wondered if the entrance might be further down. Perhaps more towards the Valley. “And if I’ve already said it, why should I have to say it again?”

“Perhaps I’d like to hear you say it aloud.” Her hand clamped around his arm; she pulled him against her. “Go on, then … tell me I’m magnificent.”

Mercy’s sake, the way her voice growled across his ears sent warmth rushing down his spine — where it pooled in the soles of his boots. It would’ve started to melt the snow straight out from beneath him, had a strange noise not broken them apart.

It was a chalky, grating sort of noise — the sound of two rocks being scraped together. Kael spun back to the wall and watched with a grin as a small section of it began to ripple before his eyes. Several sets of hands appeared beneath it. They bent and peeled the wall aside like a curtain, forming a perfect arch.

He’d barely had a chance to wave at the craftsmen who grinned in the doorway when a red-striped bolt erupted from between them.

“Kael!”

A boy dressed head to toe in furs crashed into him, knocking him onto his back with surprising force. “Hello, Griffith,” Kael said.

Had it not been for the thin stripe of hair that grew down his scalp, Kael didn’t think he would’ve recognized him: the wildmen’s black, swirling paint was gone from Griffith’s face. The boy who grinned down at him now had pale skin and a band of freckles so rowdy that they seemed to dance across his nose.

“I knew you’d come back — I knew it,” Griffith said excitedly. He sprang to his feet and plucked Kael up by the wrist. Then he went to Kyleigh. “Gwen says she’d rather have to sit on ice for a thousand winters than ever have to speak to you again, but I know that just means she’s missed you.” He punched her playfully in the arm.
 

Kyleigh laughed.

Kael groaned inwardly. Somehow, he’d forgotten about how difficult Gwen could be. But he imagined it would all come back to him quickly.

Griffith led them through the arch in the wall and into the little stone village beyond. The craftsmen grinned and slapped Kael hard in the back as he passed through. A chorus of howls sounded above him, and he saw a group of warriors gathered along the ramparts.
 

They brandished their swords and cried, “Wolfstomp!” through their grins.

Kael gave them a quick wave before he ducked his head. He didn’t like the pressure of having all of their eyes upon him.

Kyleigh watched with interest as the craftsmen molded the wall back into place, dragging the arch downwards until it was smooth and solid once again. “Sorry for all of the trouble. We would’ve come in through the gate —”

“Gate?” Griffith scoffed. “There’s no gate. Why put in a gate when our craftsmen can lift the walls? It would only weaken our fortress.”

Kyleigh’s brows arced high. “That’s actually rather brilliant.”

“Thanks … it was my idea,” Griffith said with a slight smile. “Now come on — Gwen will be furious with me if I don’t take you to her straight away.”

As they followed Griffith through the new Thanehold, Kael couldn’t help but be impressed. The wildmen’s houses were squat and rounded, their walls made of solid stone. The thatching along their roofs bunched up at the middle to make way for thin tendrils of smoke. He was surprised to smell the heavy perfume of meats and spices wafting through the air.

“Are the wildmen not having dinner at the castle?” he said.

Griffith’s freckles bunched with his grimace. “No … we’ve stopped.”

“What about your caddocs?” Kyleigh pressed.

“That’s stopped, too. Gwen says there’s no point in it anymore.” He sighed heavily, and his hand slipped into his pocket. A moment later, Kael saw the glint of a rounded blue stone rolling between his fingers. “She’s been moping all winter. I don’t think she’s lifted her axe in weeks.”

Kyleigh looked more than a little concerned. “
Weeks
?”

“I know — it’s bad,” Griffith muttered. His eyes wandered up to her hopefully. “Maybe you could pester her a bit? Get her stomping again?”

“Well, it’ll be quite a task … but I suppose someone ought to do it,” Kyleigh said with a sigh.

Kael had only to see the way the fires danced in her eyes to know that she was planning mischief. “You shouldn’t fight her. She might hurt you.”

“Nonsense,” Kyleigh said lightly. “It’s all in good fun.”

She slapped him hard in the rump before he could protest — much to the amusement of several nearby warriors. 

“Get her back!” one of them cried over her companions’ howling laughter. She swung her hand through the air in front of her. “Go on, then — give her a smack!”

Kael was most certainly not going to do that — or any of the other things the warriors bellowed after him. Instead he set a very brisk pace for the castle, hoping the chill air might somehow soothe the burn in his face.

There were more craftsmen waiting for him at the keep’s walls. They lifted an arch and pounded him heartily on the back as he ducked through. Beyond the wall was a small courtyard. Several images had been molded onto the cobblestones at their feet. 

It was like a bird’s view of a war. Kael recognized the painted forms of wildmen charging all around — battling monsters that looked like dragons with furry chests and no wings. They were wynns: the monsters that lived at the mountain’s top and fought with the wildmen for centuries. He recognized the cool, frozen slits of the largest wynn’s eyes and knew it had to be Berwyn — their King.

He was so entranced by the stony battle beneath his feet that he nearly ran smack into the man standing at the keep door. “What are you doing here, Marked One?”

Kael recognized the haughty voice before he even met the strange, glowing eyes of Silas. The halfcat was dressed in what looked like the pelts of wolves — with two of their great furry backs draped across either shoulder and sewn into the leather of his jerkin. But though he was far more clothed than Kael had ever seen him, his feet were still bare.

“What business do you have in my village?” he growled again.

“I’m here to see Gwen.”

The short crop of his dark hair seemed to stand on end for a moment; the glow in his eyes turned fierce. “No — you can’t see her.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll only make things worse, you stupid human.” His eyes scraped down him haughtily. “You are always making things worse.”

“What do you —?”

“Hello, cat.”

Silas’s eyes went wide at the sight of Kyleigh striding through courtyard. He darted past Kael, waving his arms in desperate arcs. “No — go away, Dragoness! Your scaly face will only make her angry.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see me.”

“You know she will not be
thrilled
,” he growled through bared teeth. “You’re just here to cause trouble. And I won’t let you trouble my Thane.”

“Is that so?” Kyleigh crouched, and her hands curled into claws as a daring smile parted her lips. “Then why don’t you try to stop me?”

Much to Kael’s surprise, Silas charged her with a roar. His body moved from a sprint into a fantastic leap, twisting in midair. His powerful limbs shortened and fur burst down his back. In less time than it took for Kael to breathe in, a great mountain cat had erupted from the jerkin and pounced onto Kyleigh.

She rolled to avoid his grasping claws and thrust her heels beneath his chest — sending him flying with a terrified yowl. He landed with his feet already beneath him and whirled around to charge again.

But instead of turning to face him, Kyleigh dove straight for the jerkin.

Silas ground to a halt.

“What have we here? Is the great King of all beasts worried about losing his human clothes?” she teased when he growled, holding the jerkin aloft.

Silas’s muscles bunched atop his shoulders; his great claws scraped menacingly against the cobblestone.

Kyleigh shrugged. “Well, I suppose you should’ve thought of that before you leapt out of them.” Then with a grin and a powerful heave, she tossed his clothes straight over the wall. “Come on, you,” she said as she trotted by, grabbing Kael around the arm.

Silas roared at their backs, but Kyleigh only laughed.

“Oh, open the wall for him,” Griffith hollered through his grin.

After the things Griffith told him and the way Silas behaved, Kael was beginning to get concerned. Gwen had never been the most reasonable of wildwomen, but now he feared things might’ve actually gotten worse.

And he shuddered to think of what a
less
reasonable Gwen might look like.

By the time they stopped outside the throne room doors, Kael’s heart had inched its way up his throat. “What am I going to find in there, Griffith?”

The boy’s hand paused upon the latch. When he looked up, his eyes were strange: hard around their edges, soft and helpless in the middles. “Just … try to understand, will you? She’s lost all she knows.”

“We’ll speak with her,” Kyleigh assured him, her stare already burning its way through the door. “Leave it to us.”

This seemed to calm Griffith more than anything Kael could’ve thought of. He pulled the door open with a quick tug.

Kael stepped in first, his eyes searching the edges of the room for trouble. His lungs lost their breath when he saw that the oaken panels along the wall had been set and restored. There weren’t bookshelves ringing the walls anymore. Instead, the shelves had been replaced by hooks, and settled onto the hooks were the wildmen’s dragonsbane weapons.

They glittered in the dancing light of the hearth fire — swords, spears, and axes. Just a few months ago, most of these weapons had been melted into collars and hung about the throats of the Earl’s beasts. The craftsmen must’ve labored over each piece, reshaping them into the proud weapons of their ancestors. Though they no longer warred with the wynns, the wildmen had found a place for their ancient swords.

Kael thought the room suited them rather well.

Set into the stone above the panels were the heads of Gwen’s prized beasts. Badgers, foxes, wolves, and bears snarled down at him in a ring. The craftsmen had set their mouths and bared their teeth — leaving each one looking as if it was letting out a roar. 

But though the weapons and the beasts were certainly remarkable, it was the floor that stopped Kael short.

It seemed like ages ago that the craftsmen had uncovered the Wright’s eye carved into the castle’s floor. There’d been so much dust and grit, the room around it so ruined that the eye itself hadn’t really stood out. But under the craftsmen’s care, it’d become the centerpiece.

Each of the crisscrossing lines had been polished and painted to a shine, forming three triangles on top, three interlocking triangles on the bottom, and one blackened triangle in the very center — the pupil of the Wright’s eye.

He was so focused on the shining center of the eye that he hardly glanced at the wide table situated on a shallow platform at the back of the room — and consequently, he didn’t notice the woman sprawled in the chair behind that table until her words slid across him:

“Well … what have we here?”

Kael tore his eyes away from the floor and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as Gwen’s sharp eyes locked onto his. The swirling lines of her paint were gone — replaced by pale skin and freckles. Her lips were such a light shade of pink that had it not been for the shadows cast by their arches, he didn’t think he would have seen them. But though the bareness of her face made her look less menacing, it didn’t make her smirk any less annoying.