trouble for
it. She almost stopped as a thought struck her. I can’t tell father, he
would want to know what I was doing out on the terrace in the middle of the
night. And even if Ree spoke only truth, there was little chance that her
suspicious father would believe her.
Shelu
was up to something and it was against the rules. She would find out what the
man was doing and then decide whether to tell her father. If Shelu was doing
something really bad, her father would appreciate knowing and would thank her.
Then maybe he would see that her curiosity wasn’t only a bad thing. And if
Shelu was just being a stupid man following his desires, maybe Ree would keep
it quiet until she found a use for the knowledge.
Chapter 13
Feather
Leap
The
apple crunched satisfyingly in his mouth, sweet juices bursting and then
flowing down his throat. Lakhoni edged closer to the fire, looking around at
all of the people gathered at Gimno’s fire. The small circle trembled with the
intensity of the conversation.
One
of Gimno’s warriors had spotted an apple tree full of ripe fruit soon after
leaving the village. They had all filled pouches, blankets, pots, and even
tunics with as much of the small crunchy fruit as they could carry.
When
they had arrived at the cavern with fresh fruit and tales of Usurpers in the
area, people had flocked around them, asking questions. Many of those people
now sat or stood in Gimno’s fire circle, and nervous chatter echoed off the
stones.
Fully
warmed after the journey through the cold winter day, Lakhoni wandered around
the fringes of the crowd, chewing thoughtfully. He considered making apples his
only meal for the next few days. As he moved, he caught snatches of
conversation, voices raised in angry tones.
“—find
them and destroy them!”
“We
must take things slowly and carefully. They are the invaders and—”
“—retrieve
our birthright . . .”
This
last caught his attention. It was strange that any of the Separated—a people
that had left behind their homes with Zyron’s people of their own free
choice—would want to reclaim a birthright that the Usurpers had stolen from
Zyron’s great grandfathers.
Every
child of King Zyron’s people heard the story—the chief of the village had told
it every year during the mid-autumn celebrations. The First Fathers had fled a
wicked people across the great waters to the east, guided by the light of the
Great Spirit, when a conflict erupted. The patriarch of the First Fathers had
died, leaving the First Fathers and their families without a leader. The middle
brother had claimed to be chosen by the Great Spirit to rule, and the younger
brothers had raised arms in support. The two oldest brothers, knowing it was a
sin to fight family, had taken their families and fled into the wilderness to
the south.
King
Zyron was a descendant of one of those two older brothers. The Usurpers,
somewhere far to the north, often invaded, trying to claim all of the earth for
their greedy power, but Zyron’s people—the People of Promise—had always fended
the Usurpers off.
It
was said that the Usurpers practiced all kinds of evil, sacrificing humans and
doing unthinkable things with animals and innocents.
Now
the Usurpers had made it farther south than anyone could remember seeing them.
And,
for some reason, they had visited Lakhoni’s village, and maybe even gone into
his family’s hut. Why?
Lakhoni
drifted away from the crowd, heading in the direction of one of the training
rings in the middle of the cavern. The Usurpers’ motives were none of his
concern. His only thought now should be to do all he could to gain the total
trust of the Separated so that he could find a way to escape and get to Zyronilxa.
And there he would find his sister and guide the sword of justice to fall upon
those who had murdered his family.
He
stepped between the two tall stones that had been placed as a portal to his
favorite training ring. He had run, dodged, ducked,