Alliance Forged (13 page)

He had a body to bury and a brother to mourn.

“
H
OLY
Mother of Light
!” Jole’s astonished whisper reached Arek’s ears. “He killed Rystin!”

Nodding, but unable to look away from Varian’s retreating figure, a mixture of awe and trepidation churned in Arek’s gut. The expression on Varian’s face, or more appropriately, the lack of one, was etched into his mind. The warrior was made of ice. Only his gaze had held any emotion. His eyes had glowed with cold purpose.

Arek ran a hand through his hair, his body still tingling with the aftereffects of his own adrenaline rush. The raw power and strength exhibited during the fight was equal to any
Na’Reish
demon, their moves fast, vicious, and savage as they’d fought. Some of the blows exchanged should have shattered bones and paralyzed muscles.

“Did you see the color of their eyes? What did we just witness, Second?” Jole’s brows dipped into a deep V. “I’ve never seen the
Na’Chi
do anything like that before.”

No, none of them had, not in all the weeks they’d trained with
them. Had any of the moves they’d just witnessed been used on them in training, they’d have been killed on contact. And the deep crimson in both warriors’ gazes hadn’t been a figment of his imagination, not with Jole mentioning it, too.

“Doesn’t the
Lady
Gift humans with a variety of powers?” Lisella’s softly worded question came from behind them. Arek rounded on his heel. She stood less than an arm’s length from them, her deep violet gaze locked on them. “The abilities you saw—their enhanced strength, speed, agility, even the ferocity—they’re all Gifts
She’s
given to us.”

“You label them as Gifts?” Arek regretted his comment the moment it left his mouth.

The flecks in Lisella’s eyes blackened. “Then what would you call them, Light Blade?” She folded her arms. “You’ve fought the
Na’Hord.
You know how dangerous they are. If it hadn’t been for our Gifts, we’d never have survived so long within their territory.”

“But they fought like—” He bit off his reply, his cheeks burning, and he glanced away from her piercing stare.

“They fought like what?” she demanded, her tone sharp. “Animals?”

Inwardly he squirmed. How many times had his grandfather called the
Na’Reish
animals, then by association, because of the inherited characteristics, the
Na’Chi
? And hadn’t he just implied the term animalistic to describe the fight?

To some extent, his grandfather had been right, the
Na’Chi
were more like the
Na’Reish
than any of them realized. He doubted Kalan or any of the Blade Council had been privy to this information. Even Annika might not have known, having grown up in isolation from her people.

“Why didn’t you tell us about them before now?” he asked, jaw tight.

“Because we knew this would be your reaction.”

Beside him, Jole spoke up. “Do all of the
Na’Chi
possess those Gifts?”

“Yes, although the scouts have had to hone their skills more than the rest of us. They’ve had to.” Lisella’s chin lifted. “Does this change the friendship we share?”

“Of course not!” Kymora’s vehement response saved Arek from having to reply.

He released a slow breath. Any reserve on his part wouldn’t have done a lot to calm the situation. With Zaune as her guide, the
Temple Elect
joined them.

Kymora gripped his arm tightly, and her cheeks were washed of all color. “Forgive us, Lisella, but we’re all shocked by what’s happened.”

Shocked, awed, anxious, and if Arek was honest with himself, a little afraid of the new side he’d seen of the
Na’Chi
. What had Kymora sensed during the challenge? Now wasn’t the time to ask her, but he needed to know the risk these Gifts presented.

How well could the
Na’Chi
control them? Reading their emotions was as easy as watching the changing colors in their eyes. That was true of most
Na’Chi
, but Varian possessed the strictest self-discipline he’d ever seen in any warrior, and he managed to hide what he felt more successfully than everyone else. Defeating Rystin proved he could call on his deadly Gift with very little warning.

Not a comforting thought
.

Lisella’s gaze swept over them all, wary, assessing, then her features softened somewhat. “I suppose your reactions are understandable.” She glanced to him. “We’ve made a mistake in keeping this information from you. I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slumped. “
Lady’s Breath
, the last couple of days have turned into one huge, tragic mess.”

Her apology went a long way to easing Arek’s worry, but how would the other humans respond, particularly the crafters?

“We need to hold a meeting.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It would be best to imply the Light Blades knew about these Gifts.”

“Lie to the other humans?” Zaune asked, startled.

Arek glanced at Kymora. Her expression was thoughtful. Her mouth flattened as she nodded slowly. “A necessary deception;
Mother
forgive us. It will only take one crafter to mention the Light Blades didn’t know about your Gifts during a Guild meeting. The Masters will complain to the Blade Council that Kalan put lives in danger by sending them to live with you. It’ll undo months of progress and put the alliance at risk.”

Arek released a heavy sigh. “As it is, the leadership challenge is going to be hard enough to digest.”

“Rystin was given a choice.” Zaune’s voice was as hard and ice cold as Varian’s had been. “He could have backed down. Against all convention, he was offered life again at the end.”

It didn’t make his death any more palatable.

“Where is Varian?” Kymora asked. “Can you see him, Arek?”

He turned in the direction Varian had gone. Out in the field beyond the edge of the village, he spotted the
Na’Chi
leader. “He’s near the two mounds, where Eyan and Geanna were buried this morning, digging a third grave.”

“He shouldn’t have to bear that burden alone.” Zaune’s quiet statement had Lisella nodding in agreement.

Arek frowned. “Then don’t let him.”

“He’d never accept my help.” A muscle flexed in the young scout’s cheek. “He sees this as his responsibility.”

“Then he’s stubborn and pig-headed!”

Kymora’s fervent outburst caught them all by surprise.

“What?” she asked, as if she sensed their astonishment. Her eyebrows rose. “Just because he bears the title of leader, you allow him to isolate himself?”

“He’ll reject any offer of help.”

She tilted her head, her exasperated expression emphasized as she propped a hand on her hip. “Then don’t offer it to him. Give it to him.”

“And risk his temper?” Lisella shook her head. “You’re a braver woman than me.”

Kymora squeezed the scout’s arm. “Zaune, please take me out to see him.”

“
Temple Elect
, wait until he finishes burying Rystin.” The warrior looked torn between his loyalty to Varian and her compassion for his leader. “Rystin and Varian may have seemed like adversaries, but each would have given their life to save the other. The bond is as close as any you have with family. Give him time to mourn privately.”

Zaune’s description sounded very much like the connection the Light Blades shared, particularly within the smaller teams formed under each commander.

“He’ll be dealing with a lot of guilt.” Kymora’s insight seemed accurate if the worry creasing Lisella’s brow was any indication. Even Zaune’s usual stoic expression reflected a hint of apprehension. After a moment, she inclined her head. “All right, I’ll wait.”

“He’ll probably spend the night away from the village,” Lisella added, a sad smile curving her lips. “Let me find you some food and water to take with you.” As she passed Kymora, the
Na’Chi
woman reached out to touch her shoulder. “I haven’t had the chance to say it’s good to see you’re safe. When Tovie arrived at the caverns and told me you’d stayed behind in the village, I was so worried.”

A weary smile curved Kymora’s mouth. “Thank the
Lady
one of the rebels had a conscience.” She nodded toward the open field. “May the
Lady
also bless Varian for his timely arrival and skill at swimming.”

Arek shifted his weight from one boot to the other. That was a story worth exploring, but the details would have to wait. “Kymora…”

Her head turned in his direction and she held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m going to see Varian.”

“Even the people who know him better than either of us do are reluctant to approach him,” he protested. Her jaw angled in a familiar, stubborn jut. “Confronting him isn’t wise. He’s still riding a battle rush. He’s dangerous.”

“Varian isn’t a danger to anyone but himself.” She faced him squarely. “Do you honestly believe he would hurt me?”

“Not intentionally.”

“As for confronting him, I’m not that insensitive. He’s grieving. I won’t ignore that.” The light touch to her amulet reminded him helping those in need was her job. “If he doesn’t want to talk, then I’ll just be there with him. Sometimes another’s presence is all the comfort needed.”

Letting her near Varian while he was in a volatile mood went against every instinct. Old prejudices were hard to shake, thanks to his grandfather’s indoctrination. Arek scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt.

Four months ago he’d have killed every
Na’Chi
on sight, including Annika, his half sister. Now, after living with them, he’d fight alongside them against the
Na’Reish
should the occasion arise. It didn’t mean he still wasn’t wary of them, but what a difference a few months had made.

Ironically, one thing stopping him from voicing his reservations was the trait that concerned him the most about Varian. His amazing self-control. The other was the friendship between the two of them. Of all the humans, Kymora was the only one Varian voluntarily sought out and spent time with.

“I don’t like this idea but I won’t stop you from doing your job.” He sighed. “Go with the
Lady’s
blessing.” He shrugged as the other Light Blades shot him questioning looks.

Once Kymora’s mind was made up, she wouldn’t be swayed. Letting her go didn’t mean he’d abdicate his responsibility of protecting her. He’d promised Kalan he’d watch out for her. This once though, he would trust in Kymora’s judgment and the
Lady’s
wisdom to see her safe.

“And may
She
also bless Varian,” he added, dryly. “I suspect he’s going to need
Her
patience and guidance in the coming hours.”

HER sweet sunshine and flowers scent reached Varian before the sound of footsteps. He dug his fingers deep into the freshly turned soil beneath his hands, the moist warmth no longer mindlessly soothing. Shifting, he grimaced as every muscle in his body ached in silent protest at the enforced hours of stillness sitting at Rystin’s graveside.

He refused to turn around. Why was Kymora here? Did she want to talk about the challenge? What he’d done? What did she think of him now? Every nerve in his body cringed and he shied away from looking into that dark pit.

Was she fulfilling her role as the
Temple Elect
? As skeptical as he was of the
Lady
, even he knew
She’d
disapprove of the taking of another’s life, no matter what justification was offered. So, that ruled out offering him forgiveness.

Perhaps Kymora was here to administer solace? He tensed. Guilt gouged at his heart like a blunt spoon.

He didn’t want it.

He certainly didn’t merit it.

Sheltering in the caverns, building the village, adjusting to living with the humans, training with the Light Blades, all of this and more had demanded his attention over the last few months. If he’d been a better leader, he’d have made the time to talk to Rystin, soothed his dissatisfaction. Perhaps then the challenge could have been avoided
and he wouldn’t be kneeling at the foot of a burial mound mourning his loss.

Chest tight, Varian fought to suck in a breath. The pain was nothing more than he deserved, penance for taking the life of a brother. All he wanted was to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

The urge to snap at Kymora and Zaune for intruding ached at the back of his throat. His lip curled. Giving in to his temper… now that was just the impression he wanted to reinforce after weakening and offering Rystin his life during the challenge. Varian clenched his jaw closed, determined to choke on his ire rather than voice it.

He didn’t bother to control or mask his scent as the interlopers approached. Kymora mightn’t detect his anger, but the
Na’Chi
scout would. Zaune should have known better than to bring her. The scout’s familiar musky scent grew stronger, the piquant odor of trepidation accompanied by a bittersweetness.

The younger warrior was determined to protect her. From him.

Wise man.

“Go away, Zaune,” he growled. “And take her with you. I’m in no mood for company.”

“And I’m in no mood to be led about like some pet
lira
, but we all have to live with things we don’t like.” Kymora’s tart reply had him baring his teeth. “Thank you for bringing me here, Zaune.”

The scout’s flagrant disregard for his order as he left Kymora with him intensified the burn deep in his gut. He fisted his hands until every knuckle cracked and every muscle shook.

From the corner of his eye, the hem of Kymora’s dress brushed the grass. The tip of her staff swept across the ground, grazing the mound of dirt next to him. She stopped at the foot of the grave and placed a small bag down on the ground.

“Whether Eyan, Geanna, or Rystin believed in the
Lady
or not”—lowering herself to her knees, she set her staff to one side, then
arranged the skirt of her dress until she was comfortable—“they’re deserving of a prayer to guide their passing, don’t you think?”

Her question brought him up short. “You’re here to pray for them?” He also turned to look at her.