Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
“This is your family tree, Kaiden,” I said gently. “All rites have been performed. Your parents’ ashes are nourishing the roots. Your grandparents are buried here as well, and their parents. Five generations. You can come and visit them whenever you want.”
He blinked and turned away from me, hiding his face.
Reynald opened the bag he had brought and took out a small wooden canteen filled with water. He held it out to Kaiden. “Make your offering.”
Kaiden took the bottle. His voice was hoarse. “What do I do?”
“Pour the water on the roots and talk to your parents,” Reynald said. “Tell them how you’ve been. Ask for guidance if you need it. Request their blessing. Maggie and I will be over there. Take all the time you need and then find us when you’re ready.”
The boy stepped toward the tree. Reynald and I strolled farther down the path.
Finding his parents hadn’t proved difficult, only time consuming. The Scribe Chamber kept meticulous records. Now Kaiden knew where they were, and nobody could take them away from him again.
The people of Rellas had several ways to bury their dead. They were a mix of many waves of settlers and invaders, and each had brought their own traditions and rites. People from the north, like Reynald, sometimes built cairns or erected stone pillars over the graves. Coastal southerners did water burials, sinking their corpses off the islands in the ocean. But the majority of Rellas burned their dead and buried their ashes under the roots of their ancestral trees. A family tree took on a whole new meaning.
The unbroken line of trees on our left ended abruptly, and we came to a massive statue. A huge beast, carved out of wood and sealed with resin, gripped a slab of stone with four enormous, clawed paws. Its body bulged with muscle, promising sudden explosive power. It was sheathed in razor-edged scales as large as my hand. They blended into a mane of blades on its thick neck and turned feather-like on its colossal wings, which were tipped with bone spikes. Its tail split into three long, flexible whips, studded with spur-like protrusions, and they curved around the beast as if aiming to strike.
I stopped. Reynald halted next to me.
The creature’s head, lowered slightly toward us, was a meld of lion and dragon, with terrible square jaws and a mouth bristling with fangs. Its eyes seemed to stare straight at me, alive with malevolent intelligence and rage.
Someone had thrown paint on the statue’s paws. There were cuts and gouges on its legs. People had tried to destroy it, but all that their efforts resulted in was mere scratches. The great beast stood undaunted.
“A dursan,” Reynald said next to me.
One of Ralinbor’s creatures? “This can’t possibly be to scale, can it?”
“I’ve seen bigger.”
Bigger? It was larger than the huge steppe mammoth I once saw at the Smithsonian. This thing was movie-dragon size, and it looked like it existed to kill and rip its prey apart.
“How could it fly?”
“Magic,” Reynald said. “Its power isn’t limited to humans. Beasts use it as well. The dursans infest mountain ridges all across the continent. Do you know the story of Ralinbor’s Rebellion?”
“Sauven and Ralinbor were half brothers and the best of friends. Then Sauven took the throne and realized some people thought the wrong Savaric had entered the Eagle Roost. Ralinbor’s maternal uncle was one of them, so Sauven accused him of treason and had him beheaded. Ralinbor turned on him and marched into Kair Toren with his army. He was killed, his rebellion was put down, his wife was brought to the capital in chains, tried and executed, and his only son died in the fire set by the king’s knights.”
“That about sums it up,” Reynald said. “Ralinbor of the Wilds inherited the power of Exultant Call from his father and the affinity for the dursans from his mother. He tamed them, and he called on them in battle, which was how he got the name ‘of the Wilds.’”
The idea was horrifying. “How did he lose with those things on his side?”
“They have magic and they’re powerful, but they are still creatures of bone and blood. They can be killed. Fatefire can cut one. So can a weapon coated with Rageglow.”
Wow.
Reynald shrugged. “Ralinbor didn’t lose his war on the battlefield. He lost it weeks before, when he failed to adequately equip his troops, neglected to put together a functioning supply chain, and chose the wrong place and time to engage his enemy. He counted too much on the dursans, but they are just animals. No matter how powerful a magical beast is, it’s no substitute for proper planning and strategy.”
A stone bench waited across from the statue, on the other side of the path. I sat on it. Reynald joined me.