Shadow Borne (21 page)

"I think–" Claire's
mouth dropped open. "What in God's name..."

Lights. There were
lights everywhere. Pink, blue, green, red and yellow. They hung in
ultra long strands from...everything. They edged the entire roof
line of the enormous house. They hung in wide sheets over all the
hedges in the yard and draped every tree in the immediate vicinity.
In the early light of day, the house and grounds were lit up in
multi-colored brilliance.

"Wow." I whispered
reverently, coasting to a stop and throwing the car into park. I
didn't bother removing the keys from the ignition, but climbed from
the car without taking my eyes off the spectacular scene before me.
Beside me, Claire did the same.

Tara came skipping
out the wide front door as we approached the house; she danced down
the walkway and in her exuberance narrowly avoided colliding with
us.

"You're finally
here!" She peered over Claire's shoulder, to the empty car.
"Where's your sister and the baby?"

"They're still at
the hospital, Tara. They won't be released for another day or
two."

"Oh." Tara looked
crestfallen for a few seconds before perking up again. "Right. What
was I thinking? Of course the doctors can't send them home so soon.
Well, what do you think of my surprise?" The blond nymph was
practically jumping up and down now. "Do you think Megan and little
Rose will like it?"

"I–it's...so
colorful." Claire stammered, still swiveling around to take it all
in. "And so bright." Tara's smile slipped a notch. "But so
gorgeous." Claire was quick to add.

"Yes, it certainly
is." I agreed, smothering a grin. "This must have taken hours."

"Well," Tara grinned
and squared her shoulders. "The hardest part was braiding the
leather to make the strands. Ashley said that where you come from,
the lights are attached to wires and have to be plugged in." Tara
winked. "We didn't need to use electricity to power ours."

"Good thing." I
murmured, eyeing what was easily a hundred strands of lights.

"I didn't really
need the leather cords, either, but the children decided they
should look as close to the real thing as possible."

Claire bent to
examine one of the lights that clung to the thin, braided leather
cord. "This is truly amazing, Tara. It does look like the real
deal."

"Once I got the hang
of elongating the lights just a bit, it was easy. And it's so
beautiful!" Tara gushed over her own handiwork. "I just love
Christmas!"

"Christmas?" I
asked, turning away from a towering, lit up tree at the edge of the
yard.

"Turkey dinner,
presents." Claire explained.

"Umm.." I searched
through my memory of the many talks we'd had of Claire's traditions
and celebrations from home. It was a subject we had spent hours
discussing and comparing.

"Santa." she
reminded me.

"Oh right. Santa
Claus." I nodded. "Now I remember."

"Maybe when Megan
and little Rose come home, we can have a real Christmas, with the
works." Tara suggested. "Wouldn't that be great? We can exchange
gifts and have a true feast. We'll need more lights of course. I
didn't get to the backyard." she said apologetically. "But with
Megan and Rose not due back for a couple more days, I'll have
plenty of time."

"Oh." Claire and I
blinked and exchanged a look. "Well, uh...the girls would probably
love to help braid the cords." Claire finally said. "It will give
them something to focus on while we're gone." She swallowed.

And there it was, I
thought grimly. The ugly truth that for months had managed to
darken every moment of happiness in Terlain. The sun was breaking
through the horizon, bathing the world in increasing shades of pink
and reddish gold and Claire, Tara and I stood in front of a
beautifully decorated house. No matter that it was a little on the
flamboyant side–everything Tara did was a little over the top. It
was a nymph thing.

The occasion still
should have been a happy one; we were celebrating a new life in the
world, the reunion of an entire family, and the addition of so many
good friends.

Truly, over the past
year we had all been slowly but steadily becoming one large
extended family. Claire and Mark and the children and the woodland
nymphs. Bob and Marta and many of the warriors. The sprites and
some of the tribal warriors–like Aranu–tended to be a little
standoffish, but the children already had several they were
familiar with and whom they regarded as distant aunts and
uncles.

We
should have been preparing for
life,
our blended lives together. Instead, we were preparing for
war.

It invaded every
part of our existence and every triumph and celebration with the
knowledge that some of us may not make it back from patrol, or the
coast, or the inevitable battles that lay ahead. Too many had
already been laid to rest. But more would follow.

"Tara, you've done
amazing work." I smiled wearily at the other nymph. She beamed in
return. "But Claire and I need to get some rest. We're leaving
tonight for Coztal. Let's plan a big celebration when we return,
okay?"

"Sure." Tara nodded,
a little less exuberant now, but still smiling. "Ashley and Sienna
are still sleeping. Juliette and Marta and I let them stay up a
little late." she confessed.

"That's alright."
Claire smiled and we followed Tara into the cool stillness of the
house. "I'm sure they had a great time."

"Oh, they did!"

"Thank you." Claire
caught Tara in a quick, brief hug before we headed up the stairs
and off to bed, branching off toward separate rooms and a few
hours' sleep, each lost in our own thoughts and worries of what lay
ahead.

Chapter Ten

Bittersweet

I fell asleep the moment my head hit the
pillow, and, like so many other nights, scenes of the past played
out in my head like some sort of real-life theater...

"Get up."

The voice was soft
but insistent. There was a world of steel in those two words, and
in the eyes that stared impassively down at me.

My fingers flexed in
the dirt I'd just had the displeasure of tasting when I'd landed
flat on my face for the tenth time that day. Eleventh? I had
stopped counting after taking my fourth header into the dust. For
one thing, it was hard enough to remain focused and alert. Besides,
keeping vigilant track of how many times I'd been knocked down in
one afternoon would have done absolutely nothing for my morale.

"Get up." Aranu
repeated, injecting a little more force into the words.

When I dragged
myself to my knees, the world swayed before my eyes. "I...can't." I
gasped. All morning, Aranu had been taking me through defensive
maneuvering and the way I figured, I could thank my lucky stars it
was him rather than a guard standing over me or I would have been
dead hours ago.

Every muscle in my
body was screaming in protest and the only thing that burned worse
than my legs were my lungs. Catching a breath seemed impossible and
when I did, the air felt thin and insufficient. My head swam. "I
can't." I forced the words through my teeth, hating what it cost to
say them out loud.

Aranu took a step
closer and planted his feet mere inches from where I knelt in the
dirt. I lifted my head to stare at him, for all the good it did.
His face was unreadable, as usual. But then something flickered in
the burnished gold depths of his eyes and for a split second I
wondered if he was about to reach down and grab me, haul to me
feet. My fingers clenched into tight fists as the dust settled
around me. I used my hands to shove off of the ground and, slowly,
painfully, climbed to my feet. I thought I saw something that
looked like approval flash in Aranu's eyes, but all too soon the
moment was gone.

"Ready?"

No. "Yes." I gave a
brief, terse nod and concentrated on remaining upright without
swaying.

Aranu backed up a
pace and reclaimed the long, smooth stick he'd been using for most
of our training session. I was fast beginning to hate that stick,
even if it was extraordinarily beautiful. Exquisite blackened
symbols had been carved into the ends of the five foot long weapon
and the wood had been polished and lacquered until it shone like
molten honey in the bright high-noon sun that spilled over the
surrounding trees and into the clearing. The brilliant light caught
the spun gold veins of the leaves in the forest around us and the
woods looked glittery, alive.

Breath. In. Out.
Steady. The burn in my arms and legs and back began to ease into a
dull, persistent ache and I lowered my body into a slight crouch,
feet apart, arms going loose and limber. I was prepared, or at
least, as ready as I was going to get. Bring it on, I thought,
pulling energy from some hidden place deep within and locking my
eyes on Aranu.

His own stance
shifted and instinctively I tensed, despite Aranu's previously
repeated instructions to remain fluid and limber. A second later,
he sprang into action, swinging wide and low this time, toward my
legs, his face settling into a grim mask when I didn't quite manage
to jump completely out of the way. The side of the weapon clipped
my knee and I stumbled, but managed to stay on my feet this
time.

"You're freezing up,
Ari, move, move!" Aranu growled, advancing on me and lifting his
arm to strike again.

I moved. Feigning
right, I twisted my body left at the last second, avoiding the
stick on the downswing this time.

"Come on, Ari,
you're a nymph–you can jump higher than that. Get up in the trees!"
His voice lashed at me as he jabbed the stick forward, the polished
wood coming precariously close to my midsection.

The trees. He was
right. I could jump much higher. I could swing across the trees so
fast it was nearly flight. Why hadn't I thought of that before now?
Oh well, it didn't matter, not really, because I was too sore and
tired to get up into the trees that rimmed the meadow. Still, I
couldn't help but glance longingly at the leafy green canopy. That
was a mistake. The blow wasn't a glancing one this time, but a
jarring impact on my left shoulder. With a broken, hoarse cry, I
dropped to the ground, this time going down on one knee instead of
sprawling flat.

The stick thudded
into the dirt. Out of the corner of one eye, I saw it bounce and
then roll to land carelessly against a short, orange blossom laden
bush. When he reached me, Aranu exhaled sharply before crouching to
my level and lifting my head with one finger placed beneath my
chin. His eyes searched my face and his fingers moved over my
shoulder in a cool, light touch before he nodded and stood, pulling
me up with him. Without a word, he lifted me carefully into his
arms and carried me out of the meadow, heading west, toward
camp.

Training was over for the day. I winced, not even thinking of
demanding that Aranu put me down. Well, at least I hadn't ended the
day by falling on my ass.
Progress...

***

I woke to the sound of muffled laughter.
Silence. And then the girlish giggles rang out again. My lips
curved against the cool satiny sheets for a fleeting second before
I pushed up on one elbow and tucked a hank of hair behind one ear.
"Hi Ash, hi Sienna."

"Good morning." Ashley whispered loudly.
Sienna smiled.

"It's okay girls, no need to whisper. I'm
up."

"You can go back to sleep, if you want
to."

The very thought made me groan. "I wish.
Unfortunately," I yawned and sat the rest of the way up, "I've
probably overslept as it is. You girls wouldn't happen to have the
time?" Both children shook their heads.

"Mama says you're going to the beach."

"We are." I nodded, hoping they wouldn't
decide to ask any questions about the trip to Coztal.

"Can we go with?" Ashley asked, her small
voice clearly hopeful.

"No. I'm afraid not."

"It's too dangerous for us, isn't it?"
Sienna regarded me quietly, more somber than her sister.

"Oh. Well. Uh..." I stammered. Where the
hell was Claire?

At that moment, Marta walked in and from
downstairs came the faint ding of the oven timer. Her announcement
of chocolate chip cookies was enough to persuade Ashley and Sienna
to leave the room. Well, that and a stern look.

“
Thanks.” I yawned and
stretched, falling back against the cool, smooth
pillows.

“
Mhmm.” Marta grunted and
plunked a basket of folded towels onto the dresser. “You're going
to do something with your hair before you leave for the coast, I
hope.”

I turned my head toward the opposite wall,
staring at the gray-blue expanse of sky outside the window until
the urge to laugh had passed. Finally, I turned warm eyes on the
older woman. She was always at her most prickly when she worried.
And right now she was one step away from hostile.

“
Yes, I was just getting
up to shower, actually.”

Marta nodded and left the basket where it
was, headed for the door. She paused at the threshold. “You be
careful, you hear me?” Her voice was harsh and she didn't turn
around, just stood there clutching the door frame.

“
I will.” I said,
softly.

She nodded once and was gone.

The polished wooded floor was smooth and
cold as I swung out of bed and padded across the room to the
window. It was impossible not to notice the glass was so much
cleaner than my window panes at home, another clear sign Marta was
nervous about everyone leaving today. She worried endlessly over
her flock; despite her often times gruff exterior I knew this trip
was taking a heavy toll on her and we hadn’t even left yet. But we
would. Soon. I twitched the curtain aside and stared out into the
day. On the lawn below, men were already beginning to gather. Rain
clouds threatened but were still far off in the distance. It was
entirely possible we would have mild sunshine all the way to
Coztal. "One could hope, anyway." I sighed, letting the cornflower
blue curtain fall back into place. It was time to get ready.