The Crystal's Chosen Page 2

  “Yes, I did,” Ky’ara said shortly, wondering where this was leading.

  “There is a slight discrepancy in your story here,” the man said smugly.

  “I see nothing wrong with the statement,” Ky’ara told him, barely managing to keep her tone mild

  “Ah, but you must not understand, your records say that you have never been schooled in magic, and that the magic seekers detected no trace of the talent in you. So how is it, milady, that you think you can claim to have seen it?” The man responded to her tone with a disapproving frown.

  “I’ve always been able to see magic,” Ky’ara replied wearily, tired of explaining this over and over again. “That should be marked on those records. The magic seekers told me I was a peculiarity—they had never seen a case where a person could see magic but not use it. Especially someone who is as…averse to it as I am.”

  “What about the Elrackon?” The interrogator dismissed her explanation and moved to the next subject.

  “What about them?” Ky’ara asked defensively.

  “Milady,” the man smiled derisively, “the trolls were driven beyond the borders of Tirem over a hundred years ago. There have been only a few scattered incidences where a few trolls have wandered back across that boundary, and they never made it far enough into our kingdom to give any merit to such a preposterous statement. Even if they were to get into the city and kill the council members, how could they get away so quickly, without anyone spotting them? For that matter, how would they have gotten into the building in the first place? This city is not exactly an easy place for a creature like that to enter unnoticed.”

  “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” Ky’ara yelled, jumping up from her chair and slamming one hand down on the desk. “All I know is what I saw, and what A’kiina told me…finding out the how and why is supposed to be your job, is it not?” She glared down at him expectantly.

  The man looked up at her coldly, unflinching. “Perhaps you should sit back down, I do not believe you fully understand the situation,” he said quietly.

  Ky’ara sat down again, clenching her fists together tightly and breathing slowly to clear her mind and regain control of her temper.

  “I have assessed your story, and as of yet I have heard little to convince me that you are not the one responsible for this…disaster.”’

  “What?” Ky’ara felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. “But why would…”

  “You are an orphan, raised by a common maid because your uncle had no time to waste bringing up his disgraced brother’s brat. He paid for your education, expecting you to at least attempt to become a proper young lady that he could someday present at court. Then his bodyguard began to teach you swordsmanship, a totally unsuitable pastime for a noble lady. Yet you both defied him. Despite all this, you managed to find your way back into his good graces by excelling in school and working your way into a position of power. Is it not rather odd that you were the only one late for this meeting, especially after you had an argument with your uncle just last night?” The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for another outburst.

  “YOU…You…” Ky’ara fumbled for the right words, wondering how he had gotten such detailed information so quickly.

  “You are lucky that I think it unlikely for a seventeen year old girl to kill almost twenty adults and their retainers, else you would find yourself sitting trial,” the man said crisply, smiling as though he had just done her a favor. “As it is, your surprising lack of any sort of control over your temper has almost convinced me otherwise…”

  Ky’ara stood once more, this time calmly rising from her chair and walking gracefully to the door, turning her back on him.

  “Oh yes, by all means—please leave,” he called after her, “I have finished gathering any information you could possibly supply. Oh, and the details of this tragedy have been classified as confidential information—you are not to spread stories about what you think happened, or you will find yourself in a rather difficult position…”

  Ky’ara ignored him and closed the door behind her. She was tempted to slam it but knew it would just prove that she did not have any control over her temper. She clenched her fists, wanting to strike out at something—anything. A sharp object dug into her palm and she realized, with a start, that she was still holding the object A’kiina had given her. Looking down, she carefully unclenched her hand.

  In an instant she forgot about her frustration. There, lying on her open palm was a small, shimmering crystal. It was just shorter than a thumbs length in size, and no bigger around than her smallest finger. Six perfect facets reflected incandescent light, breaking it into blue-tinged rays that coalesced inside the pointed end. Ky’ara’s eyes couldn’t seem to break away. It was beautiful, true, but there was something else…

  * * * * *

  Luc looked up as a disheveled-looking girl exited the building, lost in thought. Her once magnificent robes were stained in blood. His heartbeat quickened, and he stood up, wondering if he should approach her.

  “Excuse me, Milady?” he stuttered nervously. She glanced his way, and her hand closed around a jewel of some sort that she had been staring at. “I—I saw something, outside the city, just before, well, whatever happened. I’ve been waiting to tell someone, and…”

  “Sir, you are to come with me.” A guardsman interrupted him midsentence and pulled him away from Ky’ara. A look of surprise crossed Luc’s face as he stumbled to turn around, but then he nodded and followed hesitantly, reaching up to pat down his hair with a nervous gesture.

  * * * * *

  Ky’ara looked after him with a frown, curious as to why he thought she could help, and wondering briefly what he had seen. But that was none of her concern. The investigators would take care of it. Hopefully what he said would help confirm A’kiina’s story. Weary from the emotional stress and endless rounds of questioning, she followed the meandering path out of the Gardens. As she rounded the last bend, a movement in the periphery of her vision startled her, and she turned quickly to look, but it was only the guardsman walking back to his post at the doorway. She never realized that he had come from around the side of the building, sheathing his sword. No one had heard the muffled cry.

  * * * * *

  Mier looked up as the back door opened quietly and Ky’ara stepped inside.

  “Oh my goodness! What happened to you?” she cried, dropping the dishtowel she held and rushing to the girl’s side as Ky’ara shrugged wearily.

  “I had heard something…but of course I thought it was just a rumor…Shei was insistent that someone had seen you at the palace…but of course your uncle was here just last night so I thought it couldn’t possibly…” Mier jabbered as she assessed the state the girl was in.

  “He—Mier, they are all dead,” Ky’ara whispered numbly.

  The slightly plump middle-aged woman put a hand to her mouth, “No! Surely they aren’t all…and A’kiina too? Oh you poor girl!” Mier broke off when she realized that the girl was exhausted, and probably in shock as well.

  “Alright, up you go. Into the tub with you and then straight to bed.” Mier shooed Ky’ara upstairs, just as she had when the girl was only a small child worn out by a long day. Mier took Ky’ara’s cloak and shoes, pausing momentarily when she saw A’kiina’s sword, but choosing not to comment on it.

  “Thank you, Mier,” Ky’ara mumbled as she started up the stairs to the bathroom.

  “Think nothing of it, dear, ‘tis what I do. Poor thing, to have lost your parents, your uncle, and even your mentor…if I didn’t take care of you I don’t know…” she trailed off, looking away, “I’m sorry, it’s not my place.”

  “Here, I’ll take that to your room,” she said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, finally realizing that Ky’ara was holding something. Ky’ara shook her head wearily and closed her hand even tighter around the crystal.

  “Suit yourself.” Mier shrugged, giving her a searching look before picking
up a basket of laundry from the landing and hurrying downstairs to take care of it. Ky’ara trudged to the bathroom to find the basin already filled with steaming water. She disrobed, settled into the water, and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. A’kiina’s mangled form flashed through her mind, and she opened her eyes with a snap. Breathing was suddenly difficult, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. Here, when she was completely alone, she could finally let out the horror and grief.

  After her somewhat therapeutic wash, Ky’ara pulled on a nightgown, placed the crystal on her desk, and collapsed into bed. Her mind was spinning with questions. Where was Doraicolé, and why was she supposed to go there? What was the crystal? And what had happened when A’kiina had given her the sword…had that been magic? More importantly, who had planned the attack? And what had been their goal? Her whole life had broken apart in a single day, she did not even know why. Eventually, despite her inner turmoil, Ky’ara fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Jace sat at the rough wooden table, staring blankly ahead as the candle flame tickled the shadowy walls with flickering light. Luc still had not returned. His mind wandered back to that morning, what had Luc seen that had frightened him so much? Sometimes he wondered if his brother was “all there”—there were times when Luc seemed to think on a totally different plane than the rest of them. Even Ellyn had trouble with him sometimes…Jace felt his mind beginning to wander, his eyelids drooped…shaking his head, he jerked himself upright and stifled a yawn. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he glanced out the window at the silver sliver of moon that glimmered hesitantly in the sky to the west. It was late. If Luc was going to come home tonight, he would already be here. Sighing, Jace pushed out his chair and stood up. Then, reaching over, he snuffed out the candle and padded softly from the room. At the table, a faint tendril of smoke curled upward, a barely detectable shadow in the darkness.

  * * * * *

  The next day Ky’ara awoke still numb from the events of the day before. She was not quite ready to talk but eventually, through careful coaxing, Mier managed to get the entire story of what had happened. All day long various government officials called Ky’ara in for questioning, and that afternoon the King came personally to convey his apologies to each of the families who had lost members in “this most unfortunate occurrence”. Arrangements were made, and a few days later the memorial service for all the dead was held. Ky’ara was politely, but firmly, informed that it would probably be best if she resigned from her position. Preparations for more elections began but the actual date kept being put off, and Ky’ara began to wonder if the council would ever be re-formed.

  Eventually life seemed to take on a certain pattern as Ky’ara concentrated on forgetting the horrible incident. After searching her entire library of maps and failing to locate a single reference for Doraicolé, she despaired of ever finding the place. Her days were soon swept up in ordinary social events and studies, and she put A’kiina’s mandate from her mind. The pieces of Ky’ara’s life were falling back into place. Little did she know that soon one more event would shatter it all—this time for good.

  Chapter 2: Leaving Home

  Ky’ara walked along the road to the market. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and a soft wind blew, keeping the temperature from becoming unbearably hot. Usually Mier went to the market, but today it was so nice outside that Ky’ara had offered to go. She had not gone out much in the days since the council’s massacre, and helping out with some of the household needs took her mind off the memories of those horribly mangled...Ky’ara stubbornly shook the images from her mind and attempted to turn her thoughts elsewhere. She had started off the walk cheerfully, her spirits lifted by the evidence that summer was finally here. Now, however, she found herself growing strangely despondent, and her thoughts inadvertently turned to bleak memories of the more distant past. It had been on a day almost exactly like this that her parents died.

  At the time Ky’ara was nine; she had just come from her lessons, and was out in the yard playing under Mier’s watchful eye. Her father and mother had been inside, each tending to one thing or another. A sudden gust of wind had tipped something into the fire, and, fueled by the draft, a blaze had started. The flames had spread quickly, unnaturally so, and the house had burned from the ground up, cutting off all escape routes before her parents or any of the servants could even attempt to leave.

  People had whispered that the fire was not normal. It had spread so fast that it must have been caused by magic. An assassination, they whispered, because Kitred Si Lafeno had done something to dishonor his family name, and the Si Lafenos would not stand for it. But by an unlucky accident the kid and her nursemaid had survived, and now it would look too suspicious if she died too.

  Ky’ara stubbornly refused to believe the rumors, at least the part about her own family being the perpetrators, but somehow she could not help believing the fire had been guided by magic of some sort.

  Still, the Si Lafenos had been at a loss for what to do with this suddenly problematic half-common child. The more distant relatives refused to take her, and her uncle was far too busy in his governmental duties to raise a little girl. Mier had been adamant that no matter where the child was placed, she would stay with the girl, and so she had been charged with Ky’ara’s upbringing. Cor’tien Si Lafeno had given her money to have a small house rebuilt on Ky’ara’s property, and a yearly allowance out of Ky’ara’s inheritance for his niece’s care.

  Mier had been the one to comfort Ky’ara, to soothe her fears, and push her to do her best. Their bond was so close that Ky’ara had never considered dismissing her or replacing her with ordinary ‘servants’. In fact, they had never really been apart for more than the month each summer that Ky’ara had spent at her uncle’s manor, while Mier got time off to spend with her family in the south. Those months were always somewhat miserable—endless rounds of lecturing on proper etiquette and the importance of public image.

  Ky’ara smiled ruefully, her uncle would have been horrified by what she was doing now: walking to market, running an errand for her servant, and wearing a sword no less! Only wealthy merchants wore swords, or military men. The nobility were supposed to be above that—they had bodyguards for that sort of thing. But A’kiina’s sword was special, and Ky’ara didn’t quite feel right without it anymore.

  Of course that brought her right back to the memories she had been trying to avoid. Ky’ara’s smile faded as she remembered why she was carrying a sword, and why her uncle would never be able to lecture her for this latest breach of etiquette.

  Still lost in thought as she passed through the gate of the city, Ky’ara did not even notice the weeping woman until she was almost on top of her.

  “Pardon me,” Ky’ara apologized quickly, stepping around the old peasant woman without missing a beat.

  “Help me, oh someone please! He took my baby!” The old woman screeched, ignoring her apology and latching on to her arm.

  “What? Who—?” Ky’ara started, shaking off the woman’s filthy hands and wondering briefly how a woman so old could even have a baby.

  The woman continued to sob, burying her head in her hands and pointing with a shaking finger at a boy who was darting through the crowd, a large pack on his back and a struggling bundle in his arms. For some reason, Ky’ara felt inclined to go after him. She glanced down at the hysteric woman and then, after a moment’s hesitation, she took off, weaving through the crowd of people. The boy already had a good head start, and as soon as he broke through the edge of the crowd, he sprinted away.

  “Stop!” Ky’ara yelled after him. She pushed past the last person and ran after the boy, catching a glimpse of his blonde hair as he ducked down an alley.

  A strange feeling came over her as she considered giving up the chase. For some reason she knew she had to catch the boy, although she was not entirely sure why. She should not have even started running in the first place. He was far ahead of her by now, and about to tur
n down another street. She opened her mouth to call out again, and two strange words, filled with foreign power, dropped from her lips.

  Suddenly the boy jerked back, as if someone had grabbed the back of his shirt, and fell to the ground, immobile. A small dog poked its head out of the bundle he was carrying, licked his face, and turned to run past Ky’ara into the main street.

  Ky’ara just stared at the boy, too stunned to even notice that all her efforts had been for an animal. What the—? Was that magic? How could I have…? Her mind flooded with questions and she went numb with shock.

  “Umm, could ya let me up now?” A voice broke through her thoughts.

  “What?” she asked, looking down at the boy, not comprehending. “Can you not—?”

  “No,” the boy answered, rolling his eyes, “Don’t ya know anything? Ya made me stop, so I’m like this ‘til ya undo yer spell!”

  “I didn’t do a spell,” Ky’ara said quickly, her mind having already dismissed this possibility.

  “Look,” he said impatiently, “I’m not stupid, and I know I didn’t jus’ trip. Yer the only one who was chasing me, so I’m pretty sure…” he left it hanging.

  Ky’ara raised her eyebrows, not quite certain how to handle this.

  “WELL? Are ya gonna leave me here all day? Last I heard, magic was illegal. ‘sides, nobles look down on ordinary people like me enough as it is.”

  “I don’t even know how to ‘let’ you up!” Ky’ara insisted angrily, purposefully ignoring his feeble attempt at a pun.

  “Oh please! Cut the ‘I’m innocent’ act. 'Twas a spell ya shouted at me, how wouldya know a spell iffin you don’t know a thing ‘bout magic?”

  Ky’ara gave him an irritated look, shaking her head.

  “But that’s impossible!” the boy burst out, his eyes widening.