Descent

  This was Nayana.

  Chapter 23

  Altor turned a corner and found that he’d come across the armoury. Breathing a sigh of relief, he entered and looked around.

  Prince Fern was sitting at the far end of the room, sharpening his sword. He looked up, his face breaking into an easy smile.

  ‘Greetings, Prince Altor. How goes it?’

  ‘Until now, very poorly. I was lost. Rooms full of paintings and tapestries and musical instruments. And so many women.’

  Fern grinned. ‘Elvish people love the arts. And they love women.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Altor said, moving further into the room. ‘I will never find fault with a race that prides itself on its beauty. Occasionally though, one needs the sound of steel against his ears.’

  Fern laughed. ‘True, my young friend. True.’

  Altor felt a juvenile urge to smile, but quelled it.

  ‘If I was ... overly protective, the other day, then I apologise—’

  ‘No need,’ Fern interrupted. ‘You did the right thing. If only I had more men like you, so sure of their actions, I could do wonders. It should be me apologising for behaving so badly.’

  Altor sat on the edge of a bench and watched. He was shocked, as he’d been on their first meeting, to realise how young Fern was. Every story ever told to him had made the prince seem like a man, seasoned in his years. But sitting here with Altor, Fern was little more than a boy. They almost looked the same age.

  ‘How old are you?’ Altor asked abruptly.

  Fern looked up, his smile wide. ‘Twenty. At least I think I’m still twenty. Why? Am I younger than you expected?’

  Altor nodded.

  Fern shrugged. ‘Stories get warped. I’d say most people would be as disappointed as you when faced with the real thing.’

  ‘I’m not disappointed,’ Altor said firmly. ‘Quite the opposite.’

  ‘Come now. You’ve not seen me do anything but harass a woman outside her door!’

  ‘I’ve done the same more than a few times.’

  Fern burst into amused laughter. Still smiling as he worked on his steel, he said, ‘Would I be correct in assuming your—advanced age—has something to do with the battle, and your father?’

  Altor blinked, startled by his sharpness. ‘You would.’

  Fern nodded. ‘The burden of power is a heavy one, in ways we don’t always realise or predict. I fought against the man, but there is no doubt in my mind that had he known of the implications of using you as he did, he would never have done so—not even to win the war.’

  Altor stared at Fern in confusion. It was a thought, a question, that was never far from his own mind. How had this prince managed to strike so deeply upon the one thing that Altor cared about? But it was too difficult a question to dwell on.

  Just then there was a noise from the door and Altor turned to see Jane. She smiled at him, but faltered upon seeing the other man.

  ‘Hi,’ she said uncertainly. Both men stood and bowed, and she laughed at their formality. ‘I was just...’ She stopped and shrugged. ‘I’m bored. I came to ask Altor to amuse me.’

  If they’d been alone, the answer would have been easy. Instead, he couldn’t help but glance at Fern, who was staring at the girl as if bruised. But then Fern smiled again—he was always smiling, Altor realised—and went back to sharpening his sword.

  Altor wanted to continue his conversation with Fern—simply conversing with this man was what he’d been longing to do for years. But his pulse quickened unfamiliarly when he was around Jane, and he wanted to see what she was hiding from him.

  He hesitated for too long.

  ‘Never mind,’ Jane said quickly. ‘You’re busy, I’ll catch you another time. I’m sure I can find some way to amuse myself.’

  Jane swept from the room. He might have called out for her, but he was the Black Prince, and the Black Prince did not run after women, no matter who they were.

  Fern was staring at him, and he quickly erased all emotion from his face. ‘You could have gone, you know.’

  ‘Had I wanted to I would have.’

  Fern’s eyebrows rose as he went back to his work. His smile was conspiratorial. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Speaking of Jane,’ Altor continued, ‘that desperation of yours seems to have lessened since the first time we met.’ He’d realised soon after meeting Fern that the prince was just as thoroughly in love with Jane as she was with him. And Altor found himself surprisingly intrigued by the whole affair.

  Fern snorted. ‘A merciless description of me,’ he grinned, and then shrugged. ‘We had a conversation.’

  ‘A conversation?’

  ‘To say the least. I am no longer allowed to worry about Jane in any facility. I won’t be trying to break through doors to see her. We’re friends, apparently.’

  ‘I see. I don’t suppose that will have any effect whatsoever on how you actually feel about her?’

  The smile that never seemed to disappear was gentler now, and sadder. ‘No,’ Fern agreed. ‘It won’t. You’re sharp for a nine year old.’

  ‘I’m not nine. I should be, but I’m not.’

  Fern met his eyes. Nodding slightly, he turned back to his sword.

  Altor noticed that the shaft of sunlight through the window was already diminishing. Another day nearly finished. Holding his hands out in front of him, he tried to see if there were any extra lines on them. A few more years and they’d be truly wrinkled. A random thought occurred to him.

  ‘Jane wouldn’t go outside the city, would she?’

  Fern looked up. ‘What?’

  ‘Yesterday she was talking about wanting to explore the countryside. She wouldn’t go out there on her own, would she?’

  Fern looked to the window, noting the light of the late afternoon sun.

  ‘I mean, she knows about the dangers of night—’

  ‘If she’s distracted, she might have forgotten,’ Fern said. ‘She has yet to experience a Valkyrie for herself—it won’t be real for her yet. We’d best go check.’

  Jane shifted awkwardly in her saddle, trying to loosen the clasp of her cloak around her throat. She hated horse riding with a passion, but had been sure that if she just practiced, it wouldn’t be so bad. Apparently practice didn’t make a difference if your horse despised you. Sighing, she turned back towards the sparkling city.

  ‘Come on, Bridie,’ she muttered through clenched teeth, ‘Just walk.’ The fat mare had decided it didn’t want to go any further. Jane kicked it and willed it but the beast wouldn’t move. She had specifically asked for a horse that was slow and gentle, and the stable hand had grinned upon handing over the reins of Bridie. It was ridiculous, but riding a flying horse was a million times easier than riding a normal one. The unicorns were hers, and they loved her, whereas this stupid horse was intent on torturing her.

  It was all Altor’s fault. If he wasn’t so in love with bloody Fern, then he would have kept her company and she wouldn’t be in this mess.

  Suddenly she spotted two dark smudges on the horizon. Straining her eyes, she realised it was two people riding towards her. Embarrassment slammed into her—she knew exactly who they would be.

  ‘Come on baby,’ she whispered to her horse. ‘I need you to move now. Please, please don’t let them see me sitting here like this—just walk. I’ll hand-feed you a hundred carrots if you just walk.’

  Bridie snorted and tossed her head, but otherwise didn’t move.

  ‘Gee, thanks a lot, Bri,’ Jane hissed as the boys arrived next to her, their own mounts beautifully well behaved and responsive to their rider’s every command.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Fern asked.

  ‘Going for a ride—what does it look like I’m doing?’ she snapped.

  ‘You look like you’re stuck,’ Fern said with a grin. ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘Absolutely not. Bridie and I were just taking a break, weren’t we girl?’ Bridie chose that moment to jump into a trot, and Jane squealed a
nd nearly fell off.

  Altor sniggered. Jane cast him her most withering glare, wincing as her backside slammed down again and again with each step the stupid animal took.

  ‘Jane—I’ve told you a million times—tighten your knees and sit forward,’ Fern called. She chose to ignore him and as a result cracked her neck as the horse jumped forward suddenly.

  ‘Tighten the reins! Don’t give her any room to misbehave. Take charge!’

  ‘Shut up, Fern!’ she hissed, wrenching the reins until the horse came to a rebellious halt. ‘Jesus,’ she muttered. ‘That’s it. I’m not riding any further.’

  ‘And how do you propose to get home?’ Altor asked, eyes gleaming with mirth.

  ‘I’ll use my legs, wise guy,’ Jane snapped, sliding from the horse with a grunt.

  There was a trickle of laughter from the boys and she refused to look at either of them. She couldn’t believe it—they were actually ganging up on her!

  ‘I know it’s a hard concept for the two of you and your snooty, royal, spoilt little butts to grasp, but it is possible to walk some of the time,’ she said sweetly.

  Both of them grinned and she found herself reluctantly smiling along with them.

  ‘Lead the way, oh mighty explorer,’ Fern intoned.

  ‘I would if my horse would move!’ Jane pulled on the reins as hard as she could, but Bridie was digging her hooves in stubbornly. It didn’t seem to be making a difference that Jane was no longer riding her.

  Fern slid smoothly to the ground and walked over to Bridie, rubbing her nose gently. Jane watched, mesmerised, as he whispered something beautiful and Elvish into the horse’s ear, stroking her mane tenderly. The mare stared into his eyes, and, with a whinny of approval, began to walk forward.

  ‘You just need to show her she’s appreciated,’ Fern said.

  Jane stared at the animal. ‘Traitor,’ she murmered with a resigned sigh, and began plodding along behind them.

  Altor led his own horse forward to walk beside Jane. ‘Is there anything he isn’t good at?’ he asked with a wink.

  ‘I really, really hope so,’ she said fervently and then laughed at the expression on Fern’s face. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away—it was way too easy to fall back into old rhythms with Fern. They had to be friends without the flirting this time.

  It was cold out on the plain with nothing to shelter them from the wind. Fern saw Jane shiver and shrugged off his cloak, placing it around her shoulders. Jane was about to protest but Fern got in first.

  ‘I don’t feel the cold, remember?’

  She hesitated, but enjoyed the warmth too much to put up any real fight. Was it inappropriate for her to be wearing his cloak? She didn’t know anymore. It was all too confusing. She did know that it smelt like him, making her shiver with sudden longing. Did he realise what she was thinking? Surely he must be able to tell. The effect for her was too big for him not to notice. And yet he walked on as if nothing had happened, and Jane realised how stupid she was being.

  She quickened her pace. Here, with endless space stretching out in every direction, she felt trapped next to him, and needed the freedom of walls to hide behind.

  A moment later this was the last thing on her mind.

  The light changed and their shadows grew longer.

  ‘Oh no,’ Jane whispered as she looked behind them and saw the setting sun throw a brilliant red glow over the plain. They were still miles from the city. How could she have been so stupid? She’d completely lost track of time while she’d been trying to convince her dumb horse to move.

  ‘Time to pick up the pace,’ Fern said calmly. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. All three of them began to walk faster. ‘Can you ride, Jane?’ he asked.

  She nodded quickly. ‘Of course, yes, I can try.’

  ‘Then mount your horse.’ Fern’s voice had suddenly become low and deadly, and the urgency of it made Jane turn and fumble with the reins of her bridle.

  Was it normal for the sun to sink below the horizon so quickly? The last light faded and then disappeared completely.

  Fern seemed to see them before the others, for he sucked in a sharp breath a moment before Jane saw the shadows. Mighty wings swooped soundlessly through the air, and Jane gasped as she saw their numbers. At least twenty horrifying beasts descended from the sky. It was her first glimpse of the creatures, and even with everything she’d been told about the Valkyries, nothing could have prepared her for the feeling that crept inside her upon their arrival.

  They kicked their horses into a gallop, urging them forward, ducking their heads against the dives of the beasts. But even with Bridie doing as she was told, Jane was too inexperienced to be able to achieve any sort of speed. She lagged behind, and the Valkyries began to close in on her. Fern and Altor circled back to flank her, their arrows firing into the fray even as they controlled their horses without their hands.

  ‘Keep going, Jane!’ Fern cried, and she gritted her teeth, trying to urge her horse faster. Foolishly she hadn’t even brought a sword. Just then, breaking through the cover of arrows that the men had created, one of the Valkyries swooped down, so close that she actually felt the wind of its talons sweep through her hair. Bridie, startled, and sensing the incapability of her rider, started bucking. Jane held on, her back aching with the effort of withstanding the mount’s jumps, but at the third buck she went flying to the ground.

  Jane grunted as her left side scraped against the dirt, but there wasn’t time to lose. Dragging herself to her feet, she looked around frantically. Fern and Altor had already dismounted beside her. Altor shielded her as Fern moved to stand on her other side. Together, the two men drew their bows once more, continuing to fire into the darkness.

  One of the beasts swooped down on Altor’s side and Jane watched, heart in her mouth, as the boy leapt into the air, drawing his sword in one fluid motion and cleaving it through the Valkyrie’s neck.

  As he stepped back, Fern stepped forward, surprising one of the beasts by moving into its attack. He dealt it a killing blow and then moved to stand by Jane once more. She understood, belatedly, that the two of them had moved into a strategy. They were taking turns—one of them, at all times, was standing above Jane, leaving the other to take down a Valkyrie.

  The creatures always tried to attack the weakest.

  A flash of something passed through her and Jane wrenched herself to her feet. She was not going to be the weakest. She was not going to be the reason either of these boys got hurt.

  ‘Jane, stay down!’ Altor called, dodging a set of talons. Jane started to shake, but not out of fear. She could feel something buzzing inside her, like a small electric current. She looked at Fern and saw a glimpse of flames in his eyes, and this made the thing inside her grow even more. Her hands trembled as she stepped away from the other two. Exposing herself to the creatures.

  ‘Jane, what are you—?’ Fern cried, his eyes widening, the fire licking at the sockets. The terror of his eyes caught her in the stomach, but she could not focus on that now, because something was heightening inside her. Like every bit of her strength and fear and anger was running across her skin to meet her centre, growing and throbbing like a giant ball of energy. It pulsed violently, frighteningly, and Jane has the sense that she might not be able to control this thing inside her.

  She looked up at the swarming creatures of shadow and nightmare, and she sent that energy out through her fingers.

  The power, or energy, or whatever it was, slammed into one of the Valkyries and sent it crashing to the ground, its body disappearing instantly. But Jane had no time for shock, because as she watched, another beast swooped down and slashed its talons into Altor’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. Using the fury inside her, she directed the energy, sending another creature into the ground, killing it with sheer force.

  The air, she realised, was moving to her will. Something was allowing her to control the sky around her, allowing her to strike the Valkyries with nothing but
rage. But it was so hard to hold onto—so hard to contain. The power inside her wanted to be unleashed, but Jane knew with deep certainty that if she let go, she would no longer have control of it.

  So together the three of them dispatched the remaining Valkyries. Fern and Altor killed another pair with arrows, leaving the last to Jane. Then the sky was empty again.

  With a groan of effort, Jane reined in her coil of power, forcing it back down inside her. In an instant it was gone, disappearing somewhere inside her so that she could no longer feel it. Jane sank to her knees, her legs like jelly, her mind numb. The absence of power left her feeling utterly drained. Fern was at her side in an instant and his eyes were back to normal, making her think that maybe she’d imagined the flames in her delirium of power.

  Altor came to her side too, holding his wound to stop the blood.

  ‘What the hell just happened?’ Fern asked breathlessly. ‘Are you all right?’

  Jane nodded. ‘I’m fine. Just a little...’ she trailed off, too exhausted to finish her sentence.

  ‘How did you do that?’ Altor asked.

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But I think we should go home. Now.’

  Fern lifted her onto his horse and then climbed on behind her, kicking it into a fast walk. Sinking back against his warm chest, and feeling his arms around her, Jane drifted into sleep.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Altor asked, holding onto Jane’s horse as well as his own. Fern looked down at the sleeping girl in front of him and grimaced.

  ‘I think she’s just very tired.’

  ‘Do you have any idea...?’

  Fern shook his head. ‘I don’t know how she did it. But Altor, it would do you well to realise that she’s been gone from this existence, for a very long time. I think it’s better if we don’t bombard her with questions.’

  Altor nodded, turning his eyes ahead. They were going as fast as they could, Altor having to control two horses with one arm. The wound in his shoulder was not too bad. It was the thought of what would happen next that was worrying him. Fern, clearly, didn’t know that part of the story, and Altor was glad that the other man wouldn’t be worrying about him too.