Khiara reacted first. With a vault forward, she swung her staff around to try to clip the side of his head. He easily ducked the blow and moved like a pool of quicksilver. She twirled the staff over her head and brought it down a second time. He caught the pole, jerked it from her grip, and tossed it away. She did not back down, but launched herself at the Kishion, her eyes focused and determined. There was a flurry of arms, strike and block, grunts and the clack of limbs, and then suddenly she bowled over, clutching her stomach, and dropped to the forest floor, writhing.
The Kishion’s eyes were blue and fierce as he surveyed the other two. Annon knew his flames were useless. He called for aid from the spirit realm, begging for power that might defeat the Arch-Rike’s champion.
Nizeera growled and hissed, clawing the earth. Back, Annon warned her. He will kill you.
The Kishion stepped forward, then shifted like a serpent and struck at Lukias next. He stepped behind the Rike’s heel, grabbing his arm, and jerked, levering the man so that he fell backward over the Kishion’s leg and tumbled to the mat of leaves. Lukias shrieked with surprise as his arm was torqued and wrist bent. He did not resist, his face grimacing.
“He will kill us,” Lukias moaned with dread.
He heard the whisper from Neodesha’s tree in his mind. He is not your enemy, Annon. Be still.
Fly, Druidecht! Nizeera warned, letting out a keening growl of challenge.
Annon was racked with indecision. He recognized Neodesha’s voice in his mind. It conflicted with the panic and fear from Nizeera. The Kishion dropped to one knee, keeping Lukias’s arm at a terrible angle, one that caused immeasurable pain. Lukias gasped.
Trust me, the Dryad whispered.
Annon stared at the Kishion, the realization beginning to dawn on him. Why had he attacked the Rike? As a servant of the Arch-Rike himself, would he not have gone for Annon instead? He was deliberately subduing the other man, not trying to strangle him as he had with Hettie.
“Wait,” Annon said, holding out his hand calmingly. His mind and heart were aflutter with conflicting reactions. What was the right course to take? “He is on our side. He is one of us.”
The Quiet Kishion raised his gaze to Annon, his expression hard but not cruel. “This is Lukias, a Provost-Rike of Kenatos. I know this man. He is not your ally.”
The spasm of fear that had constricted in Annon’s chest began to unclench. “And are you?” he asked. “The last time we met, you vanished with my uncle and killed him.”
The Kishion’s eyes narrowed. “Tyrus is alive.”
The revelation made Annon’s hands drop to his side. “What did you say?”
“You heard me well enough, Druidecht. I will go into the Scourgelands with you. But this man cannot be trusted.”
“You?” Lukias said through clenched teeth. “You say that about me? A fine jest, Kishion. He wears a ring on his hand. The Arch-Rike controls him through it. Do not believe him.”
The Kishion snorted, exchanging his grip on Lukias’s wrist with his other hand. He held up his fingers and showed them to Annon. “The Arch-Rike tried to destroy me with that ring. It was left in Stonehollow. I am free of his influence now. This man helped lead the raid into Silvandom against you.”
“I know,” Annon said. “Please. Stop twisting his arm. Let him sit and I will explain. Khiara, are you feeling any better?” He noticed the Vaettir girl struggling to rise and helped her straighten. She stared at the Kishion with fear and confusion and then nodded slowly to Annon.
The Kishion watched her warily, his blue eyes alert for any motion. He kept them all within his sight, shifting around to the other side of Lukias, and then untwisted his arm. The Rike massaged his wrist, his face twisted into a frown of pain.
“I will warn you all right now,” said the Kishion. “Do not try my patience. If you attack me in any way or try to flee, I will not be merciful. Now you, Druidecht. Explain how this wretch is among you.”
Lukias shook his head, his face contorting with anger. “You question him about me? You are the Arch-Rike’s killer. If you are not here to execute us, then I cannot imagine why you are here.”
“Silence,” the Kishion warned. “Not a word more, Lukias. I don’t trust you. Speak, Druidecht. Quickly.”
Annon stared at the man, amazed at the turn of events. “There are questions I would also ask you.”
The Kishion shook his head no. “Answer mine.”
Annon was still amazed at the revelations and he struggled to master his thoughts. What could he tell the Kishion? Would anything he said be safe to reveal? Was this some trick? If Tyrus was still alive, why had he not contacted them? Maybe he had but could not track where Annon and the others were going. Too much confusion.
The Kishion’s eyes were blue and fierce as he surveyed the other two. Annon knew his flames were useless. He called for aid from the spirit realm, begging for power that might defeat the Arch-Rike’s champion.
Nizeera growled and hissed, clawing the earth. Back, Annon warned her. He will kill you.
The Kishion stepped forward, then shifted like a serpent and struck at Lukias next. He stepped behind the Rike’s heel, grabbing his arm, and jerked, levering the man so that he fell backward over the Kishion’s leg and tumbled to the mat of leaves. Lukias shrieked with surprise as his arm was torqued and wrist bent. He did not resist, his face grimacing.
“He will kill us,” Lukias moaned with dread.
He heard the whisper from Neodesha’s tree in his mind. He is not your enemy, Annon. Be still.
Fly, Druidecht! Nizeera warned, letting out a keening growl of challenge.
Annon was racked with indecision. He recognized Neodesha’s voice in his mind. It conflicted with the panic and fear from Nizeera. The Kishion dropped to one knee, keeping Lukias’s arm at a terrible angle, one that caused immeasurable pain. Lukias gasped.
Trust me, the Dryad whispered.
Annon stared at the Kishion, the realization beginning to dawn on him. Why had he attacked the Rike? As a servant of the Arch-Rike himself, would he not have gone for Annon instead? He was deliberately subduing the other man, not trying to strangle him as he had with Hettie.
“Wait,” Annon said, holding out his hand calmingly. His mind and heart were aflutter with conflicting reactions. What was the right course to take? “He is on our side. He is one of us.”
The Quiet Kishion raised his gaze to Annon, his expression hard but not cruel. “This is Lukias, a Provost-Rike of Kenatos. I know this man. He is not your ally.”
The spasm of fear that had constricted in Annon’s chest began to unclench. “And are you?” he asked. “The last time we met, you vanished with my uncle and killed him.”
The Kishion’s eyes narrowed. “Tyrus is alive.”
The revelation made Annon’s hands drop to his side. “What did you say?”
“You heard me well enough, Druidecht. I will go into the Scourgelands with you. But this man cannot be trusted.”
“You?” Lukias said through clenched teeth. “You say that about me? A fine jest, Kishion. He wears a ring on his hand. The Arch-Rike controls him through it. Do not believe him.”
The Kishion snorted, exchanging his grip on Lukias’s wrist with his other hand. He held up his fingers and showed them to Annon. “The Arch-Rike tried to destroy me with that ring. It was left in Stonehollow. I am free of his influence now. This man helped lead the raid into Silvandom against you.”
“I know,” Annon said. “Please. Stop twisting his arm. Let him sit and I will explain. Khiara, are you feeling any better?” He noticed the Vaettir girl struggling to rise and helped her straighten. She stared at the Kishion with fear and confusion and then nodded slowly to Annon.
The Kishion watched her warily, his blue eyes alert for any motion. He kept them all within his sight, shifting around to the other side of Lukias, and then untwisted his arm. The Rike massaged his wrist, his face twisted into a frown of pain.
“I will warn you all right now,” said the Kishion. “Do not try my patience. If you attack me in any way or try to flee, I will not be merciful. Now you, Druidecht. Explain how this wretch is among you.”
Lukias shook his head, his face contorting with anger. “You question him about me? You are the Arch-Rike’s killer. If you are not here to execute us, then I cannot imagine why you are here.”
“Silence,” the Kishion warned. “Not a word more, Lukias. I don’t trust you. Speak, Druidecht. Quickly.”
Annon stared at the man, amazed at the turn of events. “There are questions I would also ask you.”
The Kishion shook his head no. “Answer mine.”
Annon was still amazed at the revelations and he struggled to master his thoughts. What could he tell the Kishion? Would anything he said be safe to reveal? Was this some trick? If Tyrus was still alive, why had he not contacted them? Maybe he had but could not track where Annon and the others were going. Too much confusion.
