Free Storm Surge by R. J. Blain

followed.
    “I’m starting to think Silvereye expected to meet Rifters,” Maiten muttered.
    “I reckon he did, sir, seein’ as we had to be goin’ around the Rift to get here.” Delaven positioned his horse next to Perin, pointing at the smoking ruins of the forest. “He didn’t reckon on somethin’ like that, if you don’t mind me sayin’, sirs.”
    “None of us did. We’re going to have to work on your Rifter before Kalen gets back,” Maiten said, and Breton turned in time to see his friend grimace. “Lyeth’s is passable, but your accent will drive him insane.”
    Breton shook his head and shifted Perin over enough so he could jab his friend in the ribs with his elbow. “Leave it be, Maiten. Perhaps Delaven can keep him occupied when he returns.” If Kalen was too busy instructing the young Mithrian, perhaps some of their problems could be solved.
    “That’s the wisest thing I’ve heard you say in two weeks, old friend.”
    “Kalen?” Delaven asked.
    “Breton’s foal. He is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to learning languages. He’s also a very good teacher, so long as you are making efforts to improve.” Maiten chuckled and didn’t stop until Breton nudged him again with his elbow. “Don’t mind Breton, he gets upset when people get the wrong idea about Kalen.”
    “Kalen’s a horse ?”
    Breton shook his head, struggling not to laugh at the young Mithrian’s disbelieving expression.
    “No, he’s not a horse. We call our children foals. It’s a tradition of our people,” Maiten said. Breton marveled that his friend managed to keep his tone neutral instead of laughing like he’d normally do.
    “Oh!” Delaven looked over his shoulder before nudging his horse closer. “Is it true, sir?”
    After exchanging glances with Maiten, Breton asked, “Is what true?”
    “That His Majesty’s come out of the Rift, sir. Is it true?”
    Torn between sighing and finding who had spread word so he could strangle them, Breton nodded. “You’ll meet him soon enough.”
    The boy shivered, whispering, “He didn’t be causin’ this, did he?”
    “No,” Breton snapped and was surprised by his vehement tone. “If he wants someone dead, he does it himself. Not like this. Not without justification and provocation.”
    “Easy, Breton.” Reaching over, Maiten seized his arm in a firm grip. “Please forgive him, Delaven, he gets upset when people get the wrong idea about his foal.”
    “Does that mean you’re the Rift King’s father ?” Delaven pointed at him with wide eyes.
    With a vicious grin, Maiten leaned towards the Mithrian, lowering his voice to a mocking whisper. “Their relationship is a little complex. While Breton didn’t sire him, it’s generally accepted Breton’s a good father for him. We don’t pick our sires and dams, but we do pick who we respect above all. Don’t tell anyone, but they don’t like admitting how close they are. They’re shy like that. Sometimes in the Rift, everyone else picks for you. That’s the way it is with them. Do yourself a favor, though. Don’t discuss the Rift King’s birth sire near either one of them. There’s no faster way to stir their ire.”
    Breton considered dumping Maiten off of Horasian’s back. One well-timed shove would be sufficient. Instead, he shook free of his friend’s grip and muttered, “Don’t you think that’s enough?”
    “See? Stubborn, the both of them. Easily embarrassed. There was this one time quite a few years ago, when—”
    “ Maiten! ” No matter which story Maiten chose, it wouldn’t end well for him, Breton was certain.
    With an unrepentant grin, his fellow Guardian ignored his plea and said, “I would be pleased to tell you all of the scandalous things the pair has done over the years when he’s not around. Perhaps I’ll ask Kalen to tell you a few he’s tucked up his sleeve. Depending on his mood, I might even get him to tell you about the time Breton got stuck in a chute, leaving