Cory Herndon - The Fifth Dawn

Raksha’s sword was in his hand in a flash, causing the robed woman to stop short. “What did you do?” he demanded.

“Stopped time, briefly,” the mage explained. “Forgive me, but I must speak to you without interruptions.”

“You claim to know Glissa? Why should we believe you, wizard? Why should we not cut you down where you stand?” Raksha snarled, brandishing his sword menacingly.

The human woman stood her ground. “Bring her in,” she called over her shoulder, and the tent flap parted to reveal a young elf girl wearing a patch over one eye and an ornate slagwurm breastplate carved with intricate runes. In her arms she held a still, familiar form. The girl’s resemblance to the unconscious woman she held was unmistakeable. Sisters, Raksha guessed.

“Glissa,” the Kha whispered. “What happened to your eye?”

“This is Lyese, Tel-Jilad Chosen and Glissa’s sister,” Bruenna said, and raised her hands, palms upward. “The unconscious one is Glissa. I was able to magically retrieve her from … a perilous situation. But I am no healer. I got her out, but I don’t know if I can keep her alive.”

Raksha sighed, and sheathed his weapon. “Very well. But you shall have to let time commence, human. The finest healer in the Glimmervoid is standing right over there, but she can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

“Slobad!” Glissa cried, sitting bolt upright on the cot. She couldn’t see a thing, and for a moment she thought she was back in the Prison Tree. Then sensation returned in a rush, and the elf girl gasped. Someone was pressing a cool, damp cloth against her forehead, which was why she couldn’t see.

“There, there,” a soft, purring voice whispered in her ear. The accent and dialect were leonin, and probably female, though it was difficult to be sure. Glissa felt a warm feeling of safety wash over her being as the voice began a soothing chant, and the elf girl relaxed a bit.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“The private quarters of the Kha,” a deep, familiar voice rumbled. The chanting leonin lifted the cool cloth from her eyes. Glissa sat on a cot made of soft djeeruk leather inside a cavernous room-no, a tent, she corrected herself when she saw one “wall” wafting in the wind. Four small firetubes lit the room, dimly illuminating three figures that jumped from their seats at a table not far away and dashed to her side. Raksha Golden Cub, wearing fresh bandages like the one around Glissa’s own wound, moved slowest of the trio, or perhaps that was his regal demeanor in action-a king. A king does not arrive anywhere first.

Bruenna wore a look of relief, and Lyese, Glissa was somewhat relieved to see, had a grin a mile wide. Her sister’s attitude seemed to have improved since she last saw her.

“How did I get here?” Glissa asked.

“The connection between siblings allows many forms of magic to work over long dista-” Bruenna began but was cut off by Lyese.

“Glissa!” gasped her sister, and she launched into a rapidfire recount of the events that had brought them all back together. “It was me! We were almost here-we had to walk after a while, Bruenna needed to regain her strength, I guess. When you were in trouble, I heard you, or felt you, or something. It’s hard to explain. Then Bruenna used me finding you to find where to focus her magic, and then she cast this teleportation thing that made all my hair stand up on end, and there you were!”

Lyese sounded very much like the excitable youth Glissa had left behind only weeks ago. She a hand tentatively on Glissa’s shoulder. “Glissa, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry I blamed you for-I’m just sorry. It wasn’t your fault. None of it is.” Glissa gaped. Lyese hadn’t just had a change of heart, she’d had some kind of magical epiphany.

“Among the Neurok, close family can often feel each other’s strong emotions over long distances,” Bruenna offered. “Perhaps you experienced something similar, Lyese.”

The chanting leonin healer standing nearby had obviously not gotten to her abdominal wound yet. Glissa held her sister’s hand for a few seconds then gently pushed her away.

“Lyese,” Glissa said, clutching her temple in one clawed hand and unable to disguise the irritation she suddenly felt welling up. A brand new headache that had set up shop in her temple didn’t help matters. “You were supposed to come straight here. What were you thinking?”

Lyese looked as if she’d been slapped in the face.

“I can’t believe you. All right, next time, I’ll just let you die,” Lyese said. “Follow your example. Won’t even try to help somebody who’s shouting in my brain.”

Okay, maybe Glissa had misplayed this. She clenched her fists and rose from the cot, feeling her own temper rising as her health returned. “Do you really want to do this now?” Glissa asked, taking a slow step toward her sister, and before her brain thought better of it, added, “I thought we were past this. Just grow up, will you?”

“Way ahead of you,” Lyese said bitterly. She flipped up her eyepatch, revealing an empty red pit. Glissa involuntarily gasped. “Take a good long look, sister. I grew up fast.”

“The healer-maybe she can help,” Glissa said.

“She tried,” Lyese said. “Nothing works. Magic cauterization or something.”

“I spoke out of line. I’m sorry,” Glissa began. “Sorry for everything. Everything that’s happened, and my part in it. If that makes you hate me even more, fine. And I’m grateful you saved me. That was…incredibly brave. I was scared, and I had given up hope. Thank you.”

Lyese eyed Glissa incredulously. “I-you’re welcome,” she said at last.

“It was still dangerous,” Glissa added.

“That didn’t scare me,” Lyese said.

“No, but it should,” Glissa said. “We’re all we’ve got left, Lyese. You and me. And our friends,” she added, indicating the others in the tent. “But please, just promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t play games with your life again. Even to save me,” Glissa said.

“I can’t do that, Glissa,” Lyese said. “And I don’t … I don’t hate you.”

“I know,” Glissa said. “And I know you’re probably not going to listen to me. But I had to ask.”

Lyese’s look flashed to concern. “Slobad! What happened to him?”

“Slobad? What has become of our old friend?” Raksha interrupted, his ears pinned against his skull in a display of alarm that surprised Glissa, who had been under the impression the Kha thought of Slobad as little more than an ex-slave with keen mechanical talents. The leonin spun Lyese around by the shoulders none too gently. “Speak, elfling!”

“Easy, your Kha-ness,” Glissa said, placing a hand on the leonin’s chest and shoving him back. Raksha was so surprised he only looked from her hand to his chest and back. “Haven’t you been listening? Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Strange things are indeed afoot, my Kha,” Bruenna said. “We must all remain more open-minded.”

“You shoved me,” Raksha said.

“She doesn’t know what happened to Slobad,” Glissa said, “So back down.”

“You shoved me,” the Kha repeated.

“Raksha, you can execute me later. When this is all over, you can bring me up in front of Great Dakan himself and have my entrails read for prophecies. But right now, just … lay off my sister. You’re asking the wrong elf.”

Raksha’s ears twitched, but he muttered, “Certainly.”

“Okay. One of the vedalken took Slobad,” Glissa said.

“Took him? Why not just kill him?” Raksha asked.