AS HE WINGED THROUGH THE AIR, TRAAX SEARCHEDthe countryside for landmarks. He had pushed his airborne phalanx hard and without pause in his attempt to reach the pass as fast as possible. He knew that Shailiha was right. TheJin’Sai ’s life could hang in the balance.
It was midday in Eutracia, and the sky was clear. The sun hung directly overhead, warming the warriors’ wings. If their endurance held, they would reach the pass within the hour. Traax smiled. It would be good to see Gaius again.
Traax was proud of the warriors flying with him. After receiving his orders from Shailiha, he had asked for volunteers. There had no been no shortage from whom to pick. The fifty accompanying him were the best of the best.
He hoped that his chosen warriors could fly to the pass nonstop, yet arrive fresh enough to fight. So far, they had proven him right. Time was of the essence. Traveling light, they bore no supply litters. When they reached the pass they would live in true warrior style, taking what they needed from the land.
Realizing that he was thirsty again, Traax reached back to grasp his canteen. Minion warriors could go for days without food, but water was a constant need. Knowing that they were nearing their destination, he gulped down all that remained.
Seeing their commander drink, the fifty obedient warriors followed suit. A revered Minion tenet stated that a commander must be willing to personally suffer whatever he demanded from his charges. Conversely, while on a mission no subordinate could take rest or sustenance until his leader did so first. There were many warrior ranks, but they all shared this common bond. It was more than good discipline. It was a matter of honor.
Traax could easily have navigated his way to the pass by following the gouge left by the once-rampaging Orb of the Vigors. But taking that meandering path would have wasted valuable time. He had therefore chosen to fly by dead reckoning. Prominent landmarks, the position of the sun, and wind variables had determined the way.
Traax was one of the best navigators in the entire Minion force. More important, he had faith in his abilities. Unless he missed his guess, they would soon fly directly over Fledgling House. Covering the distance from there to the pass would be brief. Confident that he was on the right course, he allowed his mind to drift back to the pleasant time just before he had assembled his troops.
Hearing of his imminent departure, Duvessa had rushed to join him in his quarters. Dried blood from the masquerade ball victims still showed on her hands, forearms, and armor. A white feather lay stitched across a red one on her chest armor, indicating her premier rank as a warrior-healer. Reaching out, Traax pulled her to him.
“Was it bad?” he asked.
Duvessa nodded. She was a handsome Minion female, and she considered Traax her equal. Besides leading all the Minion healers, she also commanded the female warriors. She bore the mantles well.
Duvessa briefly closed her eyes. “We and the acolytes did all we could for them,” she answered, “but Faegan’s bolts were powerful. Who could have guessed that it would pass through the Darkling like that? Five died straightaway. Three were human and two were Minion. Twelve more were seriously wounded. The survivors’ destinies lie with the fates. How is Faegan?”
Traax’s expression darkened. “He will live,” he answered. “But when he realizes how many he accidentally killed and wounded, I fear he might never be the same.”
Holding up her hands, Duvessa regarded the dried blood. “Such strange beings, these humans,” she said. “Some are gifted with the craft and some are not. They are not as physically powerful as we. But their loyalty and honor can be equally strong. Sometimes I believe we share more with them than we know. As our blood mingles with theirs, I cannot tell them apart.”
Traax looked thoughtfully into her eyes. He had known many Minion females. But not one had possessed the strength, the heart, or the ability to love that this one did. Since her first husband’s death and her subsequent mourning period, she and Traax had been together. During that time she had never asked for more than he had been able to give.
Duvessa placed her palms on Traax’s chest. Concern showed on her face.
“Come home safe,” she said. “I know you have defeated many enemies. But this Darkling possesses gifts that baffle even the wizards. I am forced to agree with Shailiha. The pass is the likely place where he entered Eutracia. If that is true, it will also be his way back. You might come face-to-face with him again.”
“Then let it be so,” Traax answered quietly.
The realization that he must leave her crowded in on him again. How would it affect him, he wondered, should he lose this woman? She had become his reason for being, second only to his allegiance to hisJin’Sai. Searching her eyes, he decided.
“Stand back, my love,” he said gently.
A confused look crossed Duvessa’s face. She did as he asked.
Stretching his back, Traax snapped open his dark wings, then gently closed them around her. Among their kind, such a revealing gesture occurred rarely. Her heart in her throat, she returned his gaze.
Opening his wings again, Traax repeated the gesture. Can this be happening? Duvessa asked herself. I hadn’t dared to hope…
Traax parted his wings once more. As Duvessa felt them closing about her for the third time, a tear left one eye.
There could be no mistaking his meaning. According to Minion custom, the first time his wings surrounded her, he was saying how much he honored her. The second time confirmed his love for her. The third time told her that he wanted them to marry.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes-with all my heart.”
“Then my answer is yes,” she said softly. She had never meant anything more deeply.
Their personal bond was sealed. But according to Minion custom, two more things needed be done to announce their betrothal.
With his wings still surrounding her, Traax extended a hand to unclasp a gold pin attached to the chest area of his leather body armor. Soon after the Minions were released from the Coven’s domination over them and they came under Tristan’s aegis, theJin’Sai had allowed them to marry according to their wishes and without permission from a higher authority. Traax had seized on the idea of showing intended betrothal among the Minions by ordering the warrior goldsmiths among them to fashion two distinct types of pins. Each pin was round in shape and it held a jewel in its center. The pin worn by unattached males held a bright, round turquoise, while the pin for the single females secured a round, red ruby in its center.
After unclasping his turquoise pin, Traax attached it to Duvessa’s armor. Then Duvessa returned the gesture, attaching her ruby pin to Traax’s armor. From this moment until their wedding day, every Minion would know that she was his, and he hers.
How he had wished he could have lain with her then, but he knew he had to leave. Taking a deep breath, he held her closer. He would soon become a husband. If the fates allowed, he might become a father, as well. After giving his intended a farewell kiss, he hurried to assemble his troops.
His mind returning to the present, Traax looked down at his body armor. He smiled. Duvessa’s ruby pin remained stubbornly in place, despite the forces buffeting against it, trying to shake it loose. Just as our union will be, he thought.
Just then he saw his second-in-command fly up alongside. Traax looked over to see the warrior point toward the ground.
Nestled peacefully among the emerald fields, Fledgling House lay directly below. The Tolenka Mountains could be seen just beyond. Traax nodded his understanding and he watched the warrior slip back into formation.
They soon spied the gorge left by the orb. Traax knew they were close enough to the pass so that the still-smoldering canyon could effectively guide them. Changing course again, he gave up some altitude. Before long, they found the remains of the magnificent pine forest that had once lined the mountain base.
It was a chilling sight. For as far as the eye could see, the forest’s charred remnants climbed the craggy mountainside. Wispy smoke could still be seen escaping the ruins. Angling his flight path to accommodate the sloping terrain, Traax climbed to follow the earth’s ominous scar.
A few moments later, he saw the dead bodies. The ravaged Minion camp had been stationed on a grassy field, just east of where the charred forest started.
Raising one arm, Traax ordered his warriors to hover. His phalanx quickly gathered around him. After displaying a series of hand signals, he watched the warriors draw their swords. With their fifty-one blades shining in the sun, the warriors retracted their wings and started down.
Splitting into two groups, they landed and ringed the campsite. Looking around warily, they snapped their tired wings back into place. Traax led his two most senior officers into the camp.
Aside from the dead bodies, there was little to see. The warriors stationed here had lived simply, just as Traax’s would do until they were relieved. Six tents stood nearby, their unsecured canvas doorways flapping about in the wind. The remains of a wild boar-its half-eaten body now crawling with hungry flies and wriggling maggots-lay skewered over a long-dead campfire. Various tools, weapons, and akulee jugs lay wherever they had been dropped. As Traax and his officers walked toward the stinking bodies, they were forced to cover their noses.
Traax squatted down and looked at a dead warrior. He did not know him. The victim was still holding his dreggan, but the blade was not bloodied. The warrior’s lower abdomen and the surrounding grass were covered with blood. His internal organs lay alongside him, with some of their entrails still attached to the torso beneath his armor. Showing no distinction between animal or warrior, flying carrion feasted here as well.
Bending closer, Traax could see no puncture marks in the warrior’s body armor. He scowled. Unbuckling the chest armor’s brass fasteners, he lifted it from the body. The grotesque sight took him aback.
As best Traax could tell, the warrior’s abdomen had literally exploded from the inside out. The image was grisly, unexpected. After dropping the armor back into place, he stood.
Traax turned to look up the mountainside. As always, the Tolenkas’ mysterious peaks disappeared into misty fog. From their deep crevasses, silvery glaciers beckoned.
The pass is up there, he thought. When we reach it, I suspect that what we find will be equally discouraging.
“Shall we examine the other five bodies, my lord?” one of the officers asked. Torn from his thoughts, Traax turned.
“Yes,” he ordered, “but I believe you will learn that they all died the same way.” He pointed to the dead warrior. “Notice how his armor bears no marks. The craft was at work here.”
“Xanthus?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” Traax answered. “Princess Shailiha was right. The Darkling entered Eutracia through the azure pass. He butchered this force on his way to the palace. Assuming he and theJin’Sai have not already come this way, they soon will. If we do not want to suffer the same fate as our dead brothers, we must be ready.”
Traax looked hard at the two officers. “Come to attention!” he ordered.
Stiffening, they quickly clicked their boot heels.
“Hear me well!” Traax said. “Make camp here. We will use the abandoned tents. Find a clean water supply. I suspect that glacial runoff from the mountains will be the safest. Take these dead bodies a good distance from the camp and cover them. Build the proper funeral pyres. I will take half our force to secure the pass. When I return, we will give our dead the funeral they deserve.”
The warriors again clicked their heels. “We live to serve!” they shouted in unison.
Walking back to the phalanx, Traax selected half of his warriors. Leading the twenty-five troops skyward, he turned to fly alongside the orb’s charred path.
Staying on track was more difficult this time, because the dark gouge blended well with the charred earth. Even from their height, the warriors could smell the scorched trees and brush. It smells like death, Traax thought. As he climbed higher he strained his eyes, trying to find the azure pass.
Suddenly he saw it. Twinkling icy blue, its shimmering face stretched high into the fog. The Tolenkas’ dark granite walls lay tight against its sides. Like they were begging to be released to the outside world, white light shards shot to and fro within its luminous depths. Again drawing their swords, the warriors warily landed about twenty paces downhill.
Motioning with his sword, Traax led his warriors closer. The heat was greater here, and warm cinders crunched beneath their boots. When they reached the five bodies, Traax let go an angry sigh. All the warriors lay dead.
Bending over, Traax unfastened the armor of one corpse and he looked at the warrior’s wounds. They were much like those the base camp victims had suffered. Standing, Traax sadly shook his head. After looking around he gathered his warriors.
“There is not enough material here to build suitable litters,” he said. “I want ten warriors to fly back to camp. Construct the litters there then return with them. After we have taken these fallen heroes back, we will cremate all our dead at once. Then we will take a well-deserved rest. Go now and hurry back.”
Ten warriors quickly took to the sky. Sheathing his dreggan, Traax watched them go.
Looking around, he spied another dreggan, its blade deeply embedded into a partly burned tree trunk. Walking over, he grabbed the sword’s hilt. With a mighty heave he yanked it free.
Traax held the blade to the sun. Like the other one he had examined, this blade was unstained. More than ever, he was convinced that these deaths had been Xanthus’ doing.
Beckoning his warriors to follow him, he walked to the pass. As they neared they were forced to narrow their eyes against the light. Standing before its majesty was nearly blinding, yet it gave off no heat.
His curiosity piqued, Traax gently inserted the dreggan blade into the shimmering azure wall. Like the pass was made of gossamer, the sword entered it effortlessly. From the wall’s opposite side, light shards danced to the metal blade like gathering Parthalonian fireflies. Retrieving the weapon, he again inspected it.
The shiny blade showed no sign of having violated the pass. He reached out to find the razor-sharp blade still cool to the touch. Perplexed, he shook his head. He looked over at his warriors.
“No one is to come closer than ten paces to this wall,” he ordered. “Is that understood?”
At once the warriors clicked their heels.
“You may rest,” he said.
Sheathing their swords, the grateful warriors started making themselves at home in their predecessors’ makeshift camp. They knew the litters would not be long in coming. His expression darkening, Traax looked back at the wall.
You were here, you bastard, he thought. My gut tells me so. You killed a dozen of my warriors then blithely went on to murder innocent Eutracians. Now you are on your way back and bringing the Jin’Saiwith you. I do not know how to stop you from taking Tristan into that azure void, but I must find a way. I believe all of our lives depend on it.
Turning back, he looked down the charred hillside and then to the ruby pin that Duvessa had secured to his armor. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see her again. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes.
This was far from over.