| "Sha'en?" Jenya's voice barely rose above a whisper as he put a hand on the woman's shoulder. Dawn had yet to creep through the windows of the dark living room, and everything was obscured by a cloak of shadows. He stood by the arm of the couch, watching Sha'en sit quietly on the only cushion that was still completely white. Sha'en jumped a little, spilling strong tea - or maybe it was weak Qu'elba - on the fabric of the couch. "I'm so sorry..." Sha'en murmured softly, her words slurring together. At least her nerves had quieted, and she'd stopped whimpering. "It's okay. That deep brown really uh... complements the dried bloodstains..." Jenya grinned, feeling like a fool. He'd always worried that it would be Shorin to destroy the soft, pristine white furniture. "Anyways, I've got more important things to worry about than my couch, for now." "Will Lalreth live?" The question was sudden. Sha'en's eyes - wide, like those of a mortally wounded animal - flew to meet Jenya's. Her fingers were wrapped tightly, nervously, around her glass. "At least for the next couple of days, while Kelnai keeps her heart beating. After that, it's up to Lalreth." Jenya shrugged, wishing he could have been a better liar, or a liar at all, just this once. Sha'en nodded and closed her eyes. "I didn't mean to bring all this trouble back to you. I know that's why you left in the first place." Her hands began shaking. "Actually, I left because some insane Magi tried to kill me. Trouble I can handle. Trouble is fun. Assassination attempts? Not so much." Jenya took the glass out of Sha'en's unstable grip, placing it on a nearby table. "They're still trying, you know. That's why Lalreth is dying." She laced her fingers together, pressing her fingertips over her knuckles as she once did when nervous before a major battle. "Lalreth is dying because they're trying to kill me? Either they have horrible aim, or those Magi are more insane than I'd thought." His eyes brightened at Sha'en's weak grin, but the grin faded and turned sere. It was time for the explanation. "A single voral'calev attacked us a mile from the other side of Varikelle. It knew your scent, Jenya. Lalreth was carrying some daggers that had belonged to you, and the Beast ripped into her back with talons - talons - of pure shadow." From the way she spoke, Sha'en might have doubted her own eyes if Lalreth didn't lay dying in a spare room. "Those things aren't supposed to exist, Jenya. But this one tracked us from Shivralliah. Either it swam the ocean, snuck onto a boat, or walked on water," her voice was reaching into the pitches of hysteria now. "But it followed us because it was hunting your scent." From the tales he had heard of the voral'calev, he would have believed it had walked on water. Stories from the opening of the Rift called them shadow hounds, or blood wolves. They were intelligent, and looked very much like wolves with fur the color of pitch. As the stories went, they behaved like wolves as well, unless commanded otherwise by a master powerful enough to frighten them into obedience. The fact that only one voral'calev was sent for Jenya told him that he was being insulted as well as hunted. It would be instinct for the shadow hounds to hunt in packs, but this beast was ordered to hunt alone. Jenya was enough of a threat to be tracked by an intelligent, ruthless Beast from legend, but not a pack of them. And the fact that it was a voral'calev, and not Kael'adahn, or any other monstrosity told Jenya that he was to be killed quietly. Shadow hounds were the best inhuman Rift assassins. "You didn't come here to give back my daggers," Jenya said. He was slightly unsettled, knowing that he was being hunted. "No," Sha'en admitted. "We have a message from Aendar." Jenya squinted at the name, trying to dredge through all the faces he knew, but came up with nothing. "He said you probably wouldn't remember him. But he knew you well enough, and said he knows your parents. He told me to bring you this letter, and knew you would be here, on Taes'kenar. He thought you'd be on the northern end of the continent, in Faelshenar, but he knew you were on the Crescent." Sha'en held out a small, tattered envelope. Jenya took it, looking it over. No formal seal held the beat-up envelope shut, just a blob of deep blue wax. "Thanks," he muttered curiously, breaking the seal and unfolding the parchment. The handwriting was scrawled and it was obvious Aendar - whomever he may be - had always had poor penmanship, but some sort of urgency had put the odd slant into his letters. Sun-Chylde, you've slept too long. Life is not a dream, the world is not fair - but you knew that. I would suggest that you reclaim the "statue" of your friend and his love. Dark things are coming, boy, and you may be this world's only hope. More's the pity. Your folks seem confident enough, so I guess I'll trust them. Hope you're having fun with them in Faelshenar, because all the fun's about to end. Uncle Aendar P.S. Give my sister best regards, tell her the inn's doing fine. "What?" Jenya stared at the paper for a long moment. "Uncle... Inn?" He looked to Sha'en once more for explanations. "What in the world is going on?" Sha'en could only shrug. "Lalreth and I played war games against him anytime we passed through Shivralliah. When Kelnai told us to run, he is who we ran to. He helped us hide, as... bar wenches," her lips curled minutely. "He started asking about you a while back, and told us we needed to find you. That's really all I know-" Those wide eyes swung around to watch Kelnai walking in. Jenya didn't understand how Kelnai keep Lalreth alive all day, get no sleep at night, and walk out of the bedroom not seeming tired at all. Her eyes, while more grave than usual, still held all the light Sha'en remembered. "What's that?" Kelnai flicked her chin towards the letter in Jenya's hands. "A letter from an uncle I don't remember, telling me to go retrieve Dharin's statue, and sending regards to my dead mother." Bewilderment rang in his voice and clouded his eyes. "She's not dead." Kelnai said offhandedly, scrutinizing the blood stains on the couch. Maybe she could still make the fabric white again. Jenya just stared, blinking. He stood, moved over next to his wife. "What?" Kelnai looked at Jenya calmly. "Your mother and father are not dead, Jenya. They are both alive and well, taking refuge in Faelshenar. That is where they have been since Serfahlen burnt, years ago." "So you knew, and did not tell me." His eyes smoldered an angry orange hue. In his eyes, nothing was worse than a liar. Kelnai sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Your anger is far misplaced, and you know it. Your mother and father both requested that I never tell you. They didn't think I would see you again in any event, because I was going to join Kashan's rebellion. I wish I could be apologetic for keeping a promise, Jenya, but I'm not." Jenya felt slightly betrayed, but got one of those feelings that he should let this go. He'd fought with Kelnai before, only once, and life had been miserable long afterwards. Few arguments were worth that scathing, uncomfortable silence; and if Kelnai had promised not to tell he shouldn't hold it against her... But he could hold it against his parents, for now. He was angry, and hurt, and needed someone to blame. "Fine," he exhaled heavily. "Do you know why I should go reclaim Dharin's statue?" "It probably has something to do with thwarting the plans of the ultimate evil," Kelnai turned back to the couch. "Why do you say that?" "Because that's the only reason anyone does anything anymore," Kelnai laughed, making light of the possible end of the world. "I'll help," Sha'en interrupted. "You'll need help getting to Trinlayra, finding a way to get the statue back, and everything else. If you're going, Jenya, I have to go too. I have to start making up for fighting on the wrong side," she began wringing her hands again. Jenya grinned sideways, but the expression held no joy. "So do I. All right, we'll leave the day after tomorrow." "Not without me," soft laughter filled the room, turning heads. "Not sure where you're going, but if Sha'en goes, so do I." Lalreth stood unsteadily, clasping one of Kelnai's robes around herself. Kelnai blinked in surprise, smiling as she went to hug Lalreth gently. "I was beginning to think I wouldn't have to hear that laugh anymore." Lalreth shook her head, returning Kelnai's smile. "Thanks for making me live, by the way. And I'm sorry I bled all over your couch. If I could have helped it, I would have." Lalreth shrugged. "So, where are we going the day after tomorrow?" Jenya began to tell her she wasn't going anywhere, then remembered the stories about the shadow hounds. "Trinlayra. And we're all going," he looked to Kelnai. "It's not safe here anymore," he sighed. "I can't leave you and Shorin, not when there's a blood wolf that knows my scent." Kelnai raised an eyebrow, but only nodded. "We'll have to take Saerifahl too, unless you'd rather throw her out onto the streets." "Fine," Jenya finally stopped worrying about that expensive couch. In a few days he would leave all this behind, the place he'd finally called home, and go back to staring at the stars at night and wondering why? Why was it his job to set things right? He sighed turning to start gathering all those books he'd brought home. Something told him he didn't want to know why, and if he did know, he wouldn't understand. Maybe if someone could just explain to him why he had to keep running, why there was no safety anymore; but he knew why. A cold blackness was stretching over the world, and he was strong enough to hold it back. Maybe why shouldn't matter anymore. |