David Dalglish - Wrath of Lions

“We have to go back,” Aully whispered finally.

“We will,” Kindren said. “Soon. Once the sky is blackest, we’ll turn around.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not to the village. To the place where we belong. To Stonewood.”

Kindren seemed to swallow a mouthful of spit. “We can’t, Aully. You know that.”

“Do I? Do we ? We’ve been here for nearly nine months. Nine months, and no one has come searching for us. What if we were told lies? What if Stonewood is as it had always been, and it’s safe to return?”

He shook his head. “We can’t. Ceredon said he’d contact us when the time is right to return. We haven’t heard from him yet. That means we stay.”

She pushed away from him, throwing her hands up in frustration. “He hasn’t contacted us? How in Celestia’s name would he do that? He doesn’t even know where we are! How do we know if he’s even alive? Should his father discover how he betrayed him…Think of Zoe, Kindren. Think of her! If the Quellan could do that to a child, do you really think they would be merciful to Ceredon, whether he’s the Neyvar’s son or not?”

“Well-”

“They wouldn’t!” She was screaming now, her voice carrying over the rumbling of the waves. Kindren looked back at her, his mouth dropping into a frown, his eyes filled with sadness. She took a deep breath, calming herself, and spoke more quietly. “I’m sorry, Kindren. I didn’t mean to yell at you. But the world is breaking. Bardiya said that the afternoon we arrived here, and there is evidence of it every day. The distant fires, the fear on the faces of the Kerrians, the whispers of invasion…we are alone here. We’re only thirty-two. Who will defend us should the worst happen?”

He shrugged. “Bardiya won’t let anything bad happen to us.”

“Won’t he? The people here speak freely their gruff tongue, thinking we don’t understand them. They say Bardiya won’t lift a finger, even if Karak comes to destroy everything he loves. We’d be no different.”

“Those are just words. They don’t know what will happen anymore than we do.”

“Maybe. But I don’t want to take that chance.”

“So what do you want to do? Take our people and march into Stonewood? You said if they’d kill Zoe, they’d kill Ceredon. You think the same doesn’t apply to us?”

“I don’t care,” she said defiantly. “You might not trust my people, but I do.” With that, she turned, gazing toward the west and the gigantic trees rimming the distant mouth of the river. “I just…I know staying here isn’t what we’re meant to do. We’re meant for more. We’re meant to go home , and set things right.”

Kindren’s hand found hers once more, and she looked up at him. The clouds moved away from the moon, and its light twinkled in his eyes. She felt suddenly disarmed, and she leaned against him, wishing that the warmth of his skin and steady beat of his heart would sooth her. They did, but only just.

“Let’s go back,” he whispered into her ear. “To Ang, I mean. We can talk about this again tomorrow night.”

“All right.”

The young couple turned and began the return trek to the fishing village. The tide began to roll in, forcing them to move closer to the rocky ledge. The fissures in the massive stones were larger here, sometimes three feet wide, and they had to jump from boulder to boulder. Aully made a game of it, counting her steps before each leap, trying to see if they could both make it across with their hands still locked together. It felt good to let go for a moment, to feel like the child she was.

Then, once the trees of Stonewood forest had all but disappeared behind them, she spotted something strange-a seaweed-covered obelisk jutting up from one of the gaps between the boulders, just to her left.

“What’s that?” Aully asked, stopping in her tracks.

“Huh?”

She pointed. “Over there.”

Kindren followed her finger and shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe a piece of ship or something? It’s been stormy lately. Something probably washed up on shore.”

“You want to see what it is?”

“Sure, but we should make it quick. It’s late as it is, and I don’t want your mother to wake up while we’re gone.”

“We’ll be fast,” she said. She took off toward the object, skipping over the rocks in a carefree manner, Kindren fast behind her.

When she reached the object, she saw that the gap it rested in was quite large, stretching down too far for moonlight to illuminate the sandy bottom. She also saw that the object she’d spotted was a wooden crate. There were three of them stacked up in the hollow, the top crate teetering to the side, resting against the rim of stone.

“What in the abyss?” whispered Kindren.

Aully shrugged. “Maybe you were right, and they washed ashore from the sea.”

There was wonder in Kindren’s eyes. “If so, it’s a miracle the crates didn’t break. And that they’re heaped this way.”

She squinted, staring at the boxes. “You think someone put them here?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Want to find out what’s inside?”

He hesitated, then shrugged.

“Of course I do,” he said, his grin hiding his nervousness.

Aully balanced herself on the lip of the crevasse and removed the slimy seaweed from the top of the crate, then pressed her hands against its wooden sides.

“Be careful,” Kindren said, a warning she brushed aside. She pushed as hard as she could, but still the crate wouldn’t budge.

“It’s heavy,” she said.

“I’d imagine it would be,” Kindren laughed back. “Look at it. Ten of you could fit inside.”

“Very funny.”

“You’re right. It’s more like twenty.”

Kindren joined her at the edge of the fissure, tracing his hands over the corners of the crate.

“Here’s the seam,” he said. “Looks like it opens outward.” He pried his fingers into the ridge and made funny grunting noises as he tried to pry off the front. It wouldn’t budge. Aully joined him, her delicate fingers getting splinters as they slid back and forth along the wood. She cursed and withdrew her hand, sucking a dot of blood from her fingertip.

“It’s sealed shut,” Kindren said. “We need a wedge or something. We can come back tomorrow and try again.”

“No,” Aully insisted. “We can do this right now. Step back.”

Kindren did, wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut. Aully extended her hands and whispered a few careful words of magic. A thin bolt of energy burst forth from her palms and struck the corner of the crate. The force was more than she’d intended, and a loud crack filled the night as the wood exploded outward. She yelped and shimmied back along the rocks, losing her balance. She would have teetered over and smashed her skull had Kindren not been there to catch her.

The sound of clanking metal filled her ears. She stared wide-eyed at the crate, waiting for the smoke to dissipate. When it did, the two of them inched forward on all fours, peering over the lip of the crevasse into the now opened crate.

“Oh…”

The crate was filled with weapons. Lots and lots of weapons. Long swords, short swords, broad swords, lances, daggers, battle-axes, mauls, maces-all were tumbling one after another from the blasted-open enclosure. She couldn’t know for sure, but it looked like that single wooden box held enough to arm at least two hundred men, if not more. Kindren whistled beside her. It was a sound filled with equal parts awe and fearful uncertainty.

Aully stared at one of the swords, hissing as it slowly slid down the pile, its polished steel glinting in the moonlight. She thought once more of Stonewood, of home, and a smile came to her lips.