Chapter 5

Morning dawned bleak and gloomy, flooding the sky with dark, bruised clouds. Ayana sighed and tugged her hood as the skies began to weep. The serene lake shivered, its calm broken by the first droplets.

She missed the sunlight sometimes. It had been so many years since she had felt its warmth on her skin.

Iezabel rode beside her, flowing gracefully with the movement of her horse. The contours of her face revealed no emotion, and the coal-black eyes remained fixed on the trail.

“Iezabel? Is everything alright?”

“I feel like crushing her skull with my own hands.” She gritted her teeth, barely paying her heed. “She has given us enough grief to last a lifetime.”

Ayana flinched. “Not the most subtle way to end a life.” She gave her a perplexed look. “Who is the unfortunate one?”

“That infernal witch Eydis from the Imperial Guard,” Iezabel replied, seething in her saddle. “She is the reason for everything. She always has been.”

“Hmm.”

Iezabel gave her a long look. “I’m grateful, my lady.” Something stirred in her eyes.

Ayana frowned. “What for?”

“For letting me escort you.”

“Who else would I want by my side when the infernal witch comes for me?” Ayana grinned.

Iezabel returned the smile and turned her eyes toward the horizon.

Ayana understood her anger toward the sorceress. Iezabel’s past was not so different from her own. She had lost her comrades to the vlarik during the incursion of Isouvien. Their current plight was the last straw to the fire within her.

Their progress was slow, since they could not move faster than a steady trot; not in her condition. They continued along the lake shore, traversing the carpet of sand and pebbles, often adorned with clumps of crocuses and tangles of honeysuckle. Ayana breathed in the intoxicating fragrance of nature—the scent of blooming shrubs mixed with the smell of wet grass.

Around midday, the frigid winds returned, each gust imparting the sheets of rain with deathly coldness. A shiver traveled down Ayana’s spine as winter’s frosty nails bit into her skin, pulling her into its stark embrace.

The steeds snorted their irritation, sensing the change in atmosphere.

“Isei Ilvi returns to torment us again.”

Iezabel sighed. “So he does.”

“Are we going the right way?” Ayana asked. The lake shore stretched as far as her eyes could see.

“How long has it been since you last glimpsed a map of Aria?” Her eyes narrowed.

Ayana laughed. “Forgive me, Iezabel.”

A sudden pang shot through her abdomen as she shifted in her saddle, forcing a gasp through her clenched jaw. The shock racked through her core and she almost slid off the horse when Iezabel’s firm hand closed around her arm.

The vyáha rushed toward them, but Iezabel waved them off. She helped Ayana dismount her saddle and led her to the shelter of a huge hornbeam.

Iezabel’s concerned face floated before her eyes. She uncorked a waterskin and handed it to her. “What happened?”

Ayana wanted to shout that very question at her body. She shrugged instead, chugging the cool water to the trickling drops. It brought back some feeling in her limbs.

“A moment of weakness,” she managed to say. “I am fine now.”

Unconvinced, Iezabel insisted she rest for some time, ignoring all of her protests. It was almost half an hour before they were back on their way. The landscape began to change—cedars and pines giving way to rocky hillocks, before stunted oaks and devons sprouted from the grass covered ground as they entered the

Woodlands of Kilkrei. They traveled for the remainder of the day, taking very short breaks in between.

At dusk, a mighty roar filled the air—the roar of Kil falls, where the lake plunged down the mossy cliffs into the ravine below. The air hummed like a swarm of bees as the tumbling water saturated it with a pale mist. As their horses trudged on, trees materialized from the fog and rain like ghouls around them, before disappearing again into the smoky whiteness.

Ayana barely kept awake as the rocking motion of her horse tried to pull her into a dizzy lull. The saddle dug into her bruised thighs. She ached all over, and her nose stung from the stench of the drenched horses. How she longed for a hot bath, and the snug fireside couches in the castle, and the warm beds…anything to alleviate the torturous hurts and throbs wrecking her body… anything to escape this hellish rain.

“It’s getting dark, my lady,” Iezabel said as the rainfall subsided to a drizzle. “We’ll make the descent tomorrow.”

Ayana nodded, too exhausted to answer.

They set up camp some distance away from the falls, so as to escape its thunderous din.

Ayana stared at the winter sky, scarce except for the pale silver crescent of the great moon. Even the hunter and the phoenix had fled the black expanse—or maybe the endless void had swallowed them.

She shot Iezabel a furtive glance. She felt a twinge of guilt for bringing her, not that her beloved stewardess would have it any other way. But was she repaying Iezabel’s kindness by putting her in harm’s way? She had never thought of it that way.

Iezabel must have felt her gaze, for she turned her head and smiled. Ayana returned the gesture, warmth spreading through her chest. She scoffed at herself. Iezabel would have accompanied her one way or the other. They weren’t just companions. They were family.

The vyáha set about preparing her food.

A stream tinkled nearby, filling the air with its soothing music. The snowfall had stopped, replaced by a cool breeze that stirred the boughs overhead.

Ayana thanked Isei Ilvi for his fleeting mercy and prayed for his prolonged grace.

The flames threw a shower of sparks into the air—a minuscule sprinkle of burning stardust. Ayana waited with barely subdued impatience as the rabbit stew simmered and spread its rich aroma across the clearing.

Mixed with the odor of grilled meat, it took all her will to contain her hunger.

Iezabel handed her a bowl of steaming stew and a wide leaf laden with boiled carrots. “Here, my lady.”

Ayana eagerly accepted the food, wasting no time to dig in. “What about you? Are you not thirsty?”

“Now that you mention it.” Iezabel unclasped a steel flask from her belt and took a sip. “I am.”

Ayana raised her eyebrows.

She grinned, revealing her fangs. “Reindeer.”

“Of course it is.” Ayana shuddered.

She ate in silence. Though a bit undercooked, the meat was fairly warm, a comfort in the bone chilling climate.

Iezabel rose to her feet and went over to the horses, brushing their mane and whispering into their ears. They immediately recognized her and nuzzled at her face.

A few spans later, dinner was over and Iezabel helped Ayana to her tent. “Sleep well, my lady.”

“Thank you, Iezabel.”

She snuggled into her blankets, waiting for the warmth to creep in. The night remained silent, except for the faint buzz of crickets and the crackle of flames. Claws of loneliness clutched at her chest as she lay there, all alone. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. She gingerly pressed her belly and began to hum a soft Azerian lullaby from her childhood.

Ayana gasped as a nudge bumped against her hand, all her woes washing away in a wave of tender love. Her face broke into a beautiful smile of contentment—a smile to light up the darkest of nights. “I love you too, little one. More than you know.”