upward as far as a woman afoot could travel in a day. If I don’t
find her, I’ll turn back and meet you along the trails.”
Common sense suggested Sianna would head down the
mountain. Few people ventured higher into the Azul Mountains,
and even fewer returned. Danger lurked around each bend for
the careless or unwary. Death hid in the sharp claws of a hungry
sardak, a fall of loose rock, a misstep over a steep cliff. With
each thought, he whispered a prayer for Sianna’s safety. Still,
something urged him toward the craggy peaks. He remembered
well her fascination with his stories of the mythical Andacor.
Katya nodded and stepped back. “Take care. And find her.”
Calling on childhood memories of his mother’s tales and
his own adventuresome nature, Kyne guided Hakan up the little
used path. As though he knew what was at stake should he
hesitate, Hakan sprang forward.
Hours passed, and the storm intensified. The wind howled
around Kyne, turning the gentle fall of snow into a swirling
gale. He squinted against the sting of icy pellets and watched
the trail for sign of Sianna’s passage. The higher he climbed
the thicker the downfall. Drifts soon slowed them to a walk.
The steep trail exposed them to the raging elements. Eyes
slitted, Kyne hunched forward over Hakan’s neck. Moisture
froze on his cheeks. His fingers grew numb. The quinar’s rear
hooves slid off the ice-crusted trail. For a moment he floundered
on the edge of oblivion, then with a mighty surge he staggered
forward. Sides heaving, Hakan lowered his head and stood
trembling.
His own heart racing, after a moment Kyne nudged the
beast into the leeward side of a large boulder. Until the storm
broke they could travel no further. He could only pray that
Sianna too had sought shelter.
As he dismounted, the faint scent of wood smoke teased
his nose. His foot disturbed the remains of a fire. He knelt.
Smothered by snow, green wood still smoldered, but cast no
heat or light. Sianna had been here. Where was she now? Kyne
looked up.
A few feet away, huddled against the boulder was a small,
snow-covered mound. Heart pounding, he reached out and
brushed away the white blanket. In the snow lit darkness, he
could just make out the brown of a travel cloak. Frightened by
what he might find below, he lifted the edge.
Dark, sleepy eyes blinked up at him.
“Zoa?” In a glance he took in the child, wrapped in Sianna’s
his cloak. But where was Sianna?
“Father. You came. I told Sianna you’d come.” Zoa’s thin
arms reached out for him.
Kyne shook the snow off the cloak and rewrapped her in
it. “Where is Sianna?” Fear tightened his vocal cords.
Zoa yawned and snuggled into his embrace. “We heard
voices. Singing. She followed them. I’m hungry. Can we go
home now?”
“How long ago? Zoa? How long?”
Her small head flopped against his shoulder, and her eyes
fell shut. Asleep, she didn’t answer.
He eased the child back into the shelter of the boulder and
stood. Hours or minutes, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t track her.
No footprints marred the smooth expanse of snow. Even his
and Hakan’s footprints were filling rapidly.
Wind whistling through the rocks could resemble muted
voices singing in the distance. Befuddled by cold, dressed in
naught but her tunic, did she search for a chimera of sound?
He turned in circles. Which way had she gone? He had to
find her? But how? And what of Zoa? He couldn’t leave her
alone. Nor could he drag her further into the storm.
“Sianna! Where are you? Come back!” The wind snatched
his words and whirled them back at him, but gave no answer.
Like twin beasts of prey, guilt and grief clawed his heart.
Because of him Sianna would die on this mountain. He lifted
his head and howled his anguish.
Seventeen
While the storm continued to rage, Zoa slept, curled warm
and lax in Kyne’s lap. He found no such escape. Sorrow
haunted his dreams. Guilt devoured his heart.
way, he vowed to find her, but duty demanded he first see Zoa
safely returned to the castle.
The storm cleared, and the sun inched up into a placid blue
sky to glint off a blanket of white. Sparkling like silver crystal in
the early morning light, rivulets of melting snow streamed down
the trail. The tinkle of water coursing over rock provided a
soothing sound that didn’t touch Kyne’s pain.
He eased Zoa from his lap and stood, preparing to return
her to the castle then continue his search for Sianna. The child
slept on.
A few steps away, a mound of white gave a mighty heave
upward and shook. Snow flew. Through the storm, the quinar’s
bulk had provided a living barricade against the cutting wind.
Now he snorted and stamped his feet. Clumps of snow clung
to his furry hide.
The deep baying howl of a hound pierced the tranquility.
Warda! Kyne recognized the beast’s voice.
“Rauk!” Hakan rasped in answer.
Kyne stepped out onto the trail as the clatter of hooves
against rock echoed in the quiet. Led by Warda, two riders
approached. Katya and Graham. The quinars’ sweat-lathered
coats steamed in the cold.
“Rul Cathor!”
“Kyne!”
Graham and Katya shouted together.
Graham sat his quinar awkwardly, his splinted legs sticking
straight down and slightly outward. Deep lines of pain bracketed
his mouth and, despite the crisp mountain air, sweat beaded his
pale skin. Katya rode just behind, her gaze darting from Graham
to Kyne then back.
Warda raced ahead. He halted at Kyne’s side, snuffed at
Zoa, then head down, he crisscrossed the ground around the
boulder. Catching a scent, he gave an anxious whine and dashed
away, only to pause head up, as if waiting for Kyne to follow.
Hope flickered in Kyne. Would Warda respond so if he
smelled death? Kyne wasted no time. As Graham and Katya
rode up, he leapt into Hakan’s saddle. “Katya, take Zoa home.
And this crazy man as well.” He turned toward Graham. “Sianna
will tear a strip from your hide for your foolishness.” If she
survived her own.
“I’m fine.” Graham gripped his saddle with white-knuckled
fingers and looked around. “Where is she?”
“She wandered off in the storm before I arrived.”
Katya’s gasp of dismay reflected Kyne’s own fears. She
slid from Deju’s back and picked up Zoa. He chafed against
this small delay.
“Want Sianna.” Zoa muttered a sleepy protest.
Sianna’s name came out sounding like mama. Kyne’s heart
lurched at the thought of a babe, his babe, in Sianna’s arms.
Had his quest for vengeance driven her to her death?
Katya handed Zoa to Graham and strode over to Kyne.
�
��What of Prince Timon’s command? Clearly Sianna carries
Aubin’s child. Why else would she flee into the night?” Katya’s
tone and look conveyed her contempt for his actions and its
consequences. “She cannot marry the prince. Nor is it safe for
her to return to Castle Vareck. The prince’s messenger leaked
word of Sianna’s parentage. Though she has friends who rise
to her defense, tempers run hot over her deception. What will
you do?”
“I will find her.” A sudden surety came over him. With
every breath he took, he felt Sianna’s living presence, her heart
beating in time with his.
“And then?” Graham asked. “You have nine days until
DiSanti carries out his threat to kill the queen and princess.
Dramon hovers on the brink of civil war. DiSanti will push the
country into chaos with his madness.”
“Let him,” Katya shouted. “You can’t sacrifice Sianna or
Aubin’s child to his lust for power.”
“But....”
Kyne stopped Graham’s objection. “Katya is right. Sianna’s
pregnancy changes everything. Her death on the spike would
throw the country into turmoil as surely as the deaths of the
queen and princess. There’s naught we can do to prevent war.
Go back to Castle Vareck and send messages to the rebel
leaders to prepare. When I find Sianna, I will return and join
the battle.”
“What do we tell Prince Timon?”
Graham’s quiet question nearly shattered Kyne’s resolve.
He knew well the pain of losing one’s family. How could he
stand by and do nothing to save Timon’s? His own queen and
princess? Yet what could he do?
Kyne met Graham’s gaze. “I hope you are better than you
look, my friend. I need your help.”
Graham’s back straightened. “I am well enough to ride. I
can do whatever you require.”
“And I, what he cannot,” Katya added.
“Good. Take a small troop of men and infiltrate DiSanti’s
siege. Seek out his weaknesses. Find where he holds the queen
and princess.” With growing impatience to be off, Kyne relayed
the rest of his hasty plan. “Go. I’ll see you in nine days.”
He turned Hakan and started up the trail. Warda trotted
alongside. For an hour they pushed upward through melting
drifts of snow. Then he saw her.
Like warmed wine, relief flowed through Kyne’s frozen
veins. Body poised, arms outstretched as if to embrace an
approaching lover, Sianna stood at the edge of a cliff, her slender
body outlined against the sky. Snow dusted her dark hair and
dampened her tunic until it clung like a second skin, but she
was oblivious to the cold, her gaze focused inward. One step,
and she would tumble into a vast chasm.
“Sianna.” She gave no indication she heard him.
Warda started toward her.
“Warda. No.” The hound stopped and gave a reluctant
whine. Kyne dismounted. Beneath his feet the snow-covered
ground groaned. Hakan snorted in fear. Kyne dropped the reins,
and the quinar shuffled backward. Step by cautious step, Kyne
crept closer until an arm’s length separated them. “Sianna?”
She turned her head to him and smiled, her gaze still
unfocused. Her eyelids fell shut, then rose again in a languid
motion. Moisture spiked her lashes and glistened on her pale
cheeks. “Do you see?”
Puzzled, he followed the sweep of her arm over the mist-
shrouded valley below. For a brief moment he thought he saw
a city of white and gold gleaming in a warm summer sun. Simply
garbed people strolled along flower-lined paths which wound
around unpretentious yet elegant buildings. The sound of music
drifted on sweetly scented air. Then he blinked, and the image
blurred to a swirl of snow. “See what? There’s nothing but
rocks and snow.”
“Andacor.”
“The cold has muddled your mind.” Slowly he reached out
his hand. “Come to me, Sianna. Andacor is naught but a myth.”
His fingers brushed her shoulder, but she slid away from him,
closer to the edge. The icy feel of her flesh pierced through his
gloves and chilled his heart. If he didn’t warm her soon, she
would be beyond his help.
“You’re wrong. Andacor is real. It is here.” A confused
look settled over her serene features. “I can see it. Hear it.
Smell it. Almost feel it, but I can’t find a passageway.” She
leaned forward and stretched out her hand.
His heart jolted as her body bent over the drop, but didn’t
plummet into the abyss. Something held her back, an invisible
barrier he couldn’t see, the same barrier she fought to find a
way through. He inched forward to try to grab her arm. With
an ominous creak, the ground shifted under his feet. He
stumbled backwards and fell to his knees.
A few yards away Warda paced back and forth, whining.
Hakan pawed the ground and shook his head. Both beasts
sensed the unstable ledge he and Sianna stood on. Any moment
it could give way and plunge them to their deaths. He had to
act quickly. On his hands and knees he crawled toward her.
Through the barrier, Sianna could see Andacor spread out
in front of her, a dream of perfection. Here she and her child
would never know fear or pain, anger or discontent. Harmony
flowed in the air. Peace and serenity beckoned her to enter this
otherworldly place. One more step and she would be home.
She lifted her foot.
“For moon’s sake, Sianna! Step back. If I come any closer,
the ledge will crumble under my weight. I cannot reach you.
Step back.”
Kyne’s heartfelt entreaty stayed her efforts. She paused
and glanced back at him. He crouched just out of reach. Fear
tightened his lips to a thin line.
“There’s nothing to dread. This is Andacor. Laila told me
my mother was from the mountains. These are her people. I
feel it in my ka. I belong here.”
“There’s nothing in front of you but oblivion. Andacor is a
myth, an illusion of light.” He rose. The ground groaned. “You
belong to me. I’ll not relinquish you to a mirage. Either come
back to me, or I’ll come to you and we’ll both die.”
Poised at the gates of paradise, she hesitated at his words.
“You would risk death rather than release me?”
“What is mine I hold. Come to me, Sianna.”
Though hardly a declaration of love, possessiveness rang
in his voice. She was his. And he knew it. But he was not hers.
In her mind, wordless voices drowned out Kyne’s harsh
command. She cocked her head to listen. Later she would
consider Kyne’s feelings for her.
They are of us. An elderly woman spoke first. She is Mala’s
daughter.
A younger man said, The man’s bloodline is thinner than
the woman’s. His connection to us is weaker, third
generation. Perhaps even fourth. He does not believe.
Few outsiders trust in what they cannot see, hear or
touch. To them we are n
aught but a tale with which to put
young ones to sleep. We are the world that was. They are
the world that is. She spoke with resignation, then addressed
her words to Sianna. Child, all who accept our reality are
welcome in Andacor.
Sianna smiled at Kyne. “The people of Andacor welcome
us.”
No, child. You may enter, but the other may not. He
walks the path of vengeance. It destroys him. Hatred blinds
him to this world. Andacor does not exist for those without
faith, hope or love. Forgiveness is his only path to salvation.
Understanding blossomed inside her. She and Kyne were
of two worlds, but they could live only in one. Kyne denied
Andacor’s existence. If she chose Andacor, when he tried to
stop her, he would fall into the void below. Even if he did not
die, his current path would ravage his ka until there was naught
left but an empty shell.
There was no choice. Farewell.
She turned and stepped into his embrace. The ground shifted
beneath them. Kyne threw himself away from the edge, and
they fell backwards into a snowdrift. With a sharp crack and a
low rumble, the ledge sheared away at their feet. A cloud of
snow and dust rose in the air. Kyne’s rasping breath in her ear
muffled the sound of falling rock and dirt.
Like an icy rain, reality drenched her. How close he’d come
to death. Shuddering, she buried her face in his shoulder.
She lay on top of him, their limbs aligned from shoulder to
knee. Heat from his body seeped through her chilled flesh, his
warm breath slid over her frozen skin, sending shivers down
her spine. The rapid thud of his heart matched the uneven
thumping of her own.
He stood, taking her with him. His fingers dug into her
cold-numbed arms, and he gave her a shake. “Foolish woman.
Why did you run off? You could have died of exposure. Fallen
off a cliff. Been ravaged by a sardak. What were you thinking?”
At his touch, his anger swept through her, sparking her own.
She shoved away from him and crossed her arms over her
heaving chest. “I did not give up paradise to be scolded like a
naughty child.”
“Then cease to behave like one.”
Cold rattled her teeth as she challenged his accusations.
“Are the deaths you speak of any worse than death on a spike?”