Denna

DENNA

I crouched by the campfire, the acrid smell of smoke doing little to mask the stench of fear and uncertainty hanging in the air. Every snapping twig, every rustle of leaves, sent my heart racing. What if Korrin never returned? What if Orland had discovered our deception?

A rustle in the brush made me tense, hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword. But it was only Surant, leading a string of saddled villarts behind him.

"Got us some rides," he grinned, patting the scaly flank of one of the reptilian mounts. "Village ain't too far from here."

I nodded, rising to my feet but unable to share his enthusiasm. "Did you happen to see any sign of the others?"

Surant shook his head. "Not yet. But you know Korrin—tough as an old boot. He'll get the job done."

His confidence should have reassured me, but the nagging doubts persisted. What if Orland discovered the map's deception? Or decided the exchange wasn't worth upholding his end of the bargain? Scenarios of Korrin and his men being captured or worse flashed through my mind.

The crunch of boots on the forest floor made me whirl, sword halfway drawn before I registered the familiar faces. Roji, Yoren, Brakk...and at the center, the tall, bronze-skinned form of Korrin. Relief washed over me, quickly followed by surprise as I spotted a regal-looking woman beside him, her hair a striking blend of blue and silver.

The baroness. They'd actually done it.

But Korrin's eyes were guarded even as they met mine. Something was off. Before I could ask, the baroness stopped short, taking me in with an icy stare.

"Korrin," she said flatly. "Who is this?"

He stepped forward before I could say a word. "Mother, please. I know you have questions, but allow me to explain everything. For now, let's get you somewhere safe."

Wait. The baroness was Korrin's mother?

She arched an imperious brow but seemed to accept his words with a curt nod. As the men secured the villarts, Korrin beckoned me over.

"You're riding with me," he murmured, leaving no room for argument in his tone.

I searched his face, picking up the tension radiating from him like a taut bowstring. But I simply nodded, boosting myself up into the saddle in front of him. His arms encircled me as he took the reins, the hard planes of his chest pressing against my back.

The villart snorted and we were off, the others falling in line behind us. I felt the baroness's sharp gaze boring into me from a few lengths back. Unconsciously, I leaned deeper into Korrin's solid warmth, drawing strength from his presence.

"The map worked then?" I asked quietly, keeping my voice low.

A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw. "For now. But we'll discuss it later."

The village appeared as we crested a hill, a cluster of sturdy stone houses with thatched roofs nestled in the mountain foothills. Well-tended gardens dotted the landscape, bursting with colorful blooms and leafy vegetables. The sight of civilization after our harrowing journey sent a wave of relief through me.

As we rode into the village square, curious eyes turned our way. Whispers rippled through the gathering crowd, a mix of reverence and speculation. I felt exposed under their scrutiny, acutely aware of my pale skin and outsider status.

"It's the baroness!"

"She's returned!"

"Who's that strange woman with them?"

The murmurs swirled around us as we dismounted. I kept close to Korrin, drawing comfort from his solid presence. The baroness stood tall, acknowledging the villagers with regal nods.

A weathered wooden sign caught my eye—a stylized villart adorning the front of a large, two-story inn. The baroness strode purposefully towards it, the crowd parting before her. We followed in her wake, the cool interior a welcome respite from the afternoon sun.

A stout Shakai woman with graying-blue hair bustled over, her eyes widening at the sight of the baroness.

"My lady! We'd heard—but I scarcely dared hope—" She bobbed a hasty curtsy. "Please, allow me to prepare our finest rooms for you and your companions."

"Thank you, Mara," the baroness replied. "A private room for now would suffice."

Mara nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course. Right this way."

She led us up a creaking wooden staircase to the second floor. The room she ushered us into was spacious and well-appointed. A large fireplace dominated one wall, comfortable-looking chairs arranged before it. Richly woven tapestries adorned the walls, and a set of glass doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the village square.

The baroness turned to Korrin. "I'd like to speak with the girl alone."

Korrin's brow furrowed. "Mother, I don't think?—"

"It wasn't a request, Korrin."

His jaw clenched, but he gave a stiff nod. As the others filed out, he caught my eye, concern etched on his features. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it felt weak even to me.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the formidable woman. She fixed me with a piercing gaze, her angular features softening slightly as she gestured to the chairs by the fire.

"Sit with me," she said. It wasn't quite a command, but it wasn't quite a request, either.

I perched on the edge of a chair, my back ramrod straight. The baroness settled across from me, her posture relaxed but no less regal.

"Now, then," she began, "I believe some explanations are in order. Who are you, and how did you come to be traveling with my son?"

I swallowed hard, unsure where to begin. The weight of her gaze made me feel like a butterfly pinned to a board, unable to hide or escape.

"My name is ," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I... I'm from Terr. The city beyond what Korrin calls the Canyonlands."

Her eyebrows rose, but that was all.

I studied the baroness's face, searching for any sign of shock or disbelief. But her expression remained impassive, those piercing eyes revealing nothing beyond mild curiosity.

"Terr," she repeated, her voice betraying no emotion. "That's quite a journey. And how did you come to find yourself in our lands?"

Her composure impressed me. Here I was, claiming to be from a legendary city that I'd discovered her people believed to be nothing more than a myth, and she reacted as if I'd told her I was from the next village over. This was a woman accustomed to power, to making decisions that affected the lives of many. A true leader.

"I grew up in the Temple," I began, watching the baroness's face carefully. Her expression remained neutral, but I noticed a slight tightening around her eyes.

"A maiden, dedicated to its service," I continued. The baroness leaned forward almost imperceptibly.

"And what did this service entail?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual.

I swallowed hard. "Rituals. Harsh ones. Punishments that..." I trailed off, memories threatening to overwhelm me.

The baroness's eyes softened. "Take your time, child," she said, voice surprisingly gentle.

The words came haltingly at first, then in a rush. The machinery we tended to, never fully understanding its purpose or origin, the priests and their drive for more sacrifices. How they used fear to control not just us, but the entire populace of Terr.

The baroness stood abruptly, her movement startling me from my dark reverie. She crossed to a small side table where a pottery tea set waited. With practiced grace, she poured steaming liquid into two delicate cups.

"Here," she said, pressing one of the cups into my hands. "This will help steady your nerves."

The warmth seeped into my fingers, grounding me. I inhaled the fragrant steam, a blend of herbs I didn't recognize. The baroness settled back into her chair, cradling her own cup.

"Now." She took a sip of tea. "Please continue."

"We were never told why," I whispered. "Only that it was necessary. That our suffering, our blood, maintained the systems that kept Terr alive.

"It was the Oracle, Niam who first made me question it all," I continued. "She hinted at darker secrets, corruption at the heart of the temple."

The baroness's expression was a mix of fascination and concern as I recounted Niam's urgings for me to become a warrior, to fight against the temple's oppression.

"She gave me this," I said, touching the tracker at my throat. "Told me it would lead me to answers, to allies. That's... that's how I found Korrin and the others."

As I finished my tale, silence settled over the room. The baroness studied me intently, her gaze unreadable.

"A remarkable story," she said at last. "And a heavy burden for one so young to bear."

She rose and strode to the door. Opening it, she called out, "Korrin, come here please."

He appeared in the doorway moments later, wariness evident in the set of his shoulders.

"Mother?" he asked, his eyes flicking between us.

"The necklace you wear," she said. "May I see it?"

Korrin's hand went to his chest, confusion clear on his face. "I... of course."

He lifted the chain over his head, fingers wrapping around it briefly before holding it out to his mother.

The baroness's fingers traced the intricate patterns on the pendant's surface, her eyes distant with memory. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and when she looked up, her gaze held a new warmth.

"This," she said, her voice low and rich with emotion, "has a story of its own. One that began before Korrin drew his first breath."

My curiosity piqued, I leaned forward slightly, eager to hear more. The firelight danced across the baroness's face, softening her angular features.

"While I carried Korrin, I had a dream." She paused, the firelight catching the metal, making it seem to glow with an inner light.

"I knew it was more than a dream," she mused. "It was a vision, as real as you and I sitting here now." Her eyes met mine, and I saw a depth of emotion there that took my breath away.

"I saw this strange device, shining like a beacon in the darkness. And I knew, with a certainty that shook me to my core, that it would one day save my son's life."

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and Korrin shifted beside me, his eyes wide with surprise. A tremor ran through him, and without thinking, I reached out to take his hand. His fingers intertwined with mine, warm and strong.

The baroness's gaze flickered to our joined hands, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "I searched tirelessly for it. I scoured markets, consulted seers, followed whispered rumors to the farthest reaches of our lands. For two long years, it eluded me. I must have seemed half-mad to some."

She paused, her eyes distant once more. "And then, when Korrin was barely toddling, a peddler came to the village I was staying at. And there, among his wares, I found it at last."

As she spoke, I found myself acutely aware of the textures around me—the soft fabric of the chair beneath my fingers, the slight roughness of the pendant's chain against my skin, the warmth of Korrin's hand in mine.

The weight of the story settled over us like a blanket. I looked at the necklace with new eyes, marveling at its significance. How many times had I seen Korrin absently touch it, never knowing its true importance?

"Then I... I can't take it," I blurted. "I can't risk his life."

The baroness's eyes softened as she looked between Korrin and me. "I believe my dream meant more than I initially thought. Perhaps you and Korrin were destined to meet, to help each other."

Her words caught me off guard. I glanced at Korrin, who seemed equally surprised.

"," the baroness continued, her tone measured, "you've been of great assistance to my son. For that, I'm grateful."

Warmth spread through my chest at her words, though her expression remained guarded.

"And now," she said, turning to Korrin, "you can return the favor."

Korrin's brow furrowed. "Mother?"

The baroness held the necklace out to him. "Give it to her, Korrin. She needs it more than you do now."

My heart raced. "No, I couldn't possibly?—"

"Take it," the baroness said firmly. "Consider it a token of our... appreciation."

Korrin stepped forward, his fingers brushing mine as he placed the pendant in my palm. The metal felt warm against my skin, as if it held some hidden energy.

"Thank you," I whispered, unable to meet either of their gazes, marveling at the intricate design. My fingers traced the delicate patterns, feeling the subtle pulse of energy beneath.

"It's beautiful," I murmured.

The baroness nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Indeed it is. You know, it's curious... the peddler who sold me Korrin's pendant, he had another similar device in his possession."

I jerked my head up, shock coursing through me. "Another one? Like this?"

"Oh, yes," the baroness replied, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "Naturally, I bought that one as well. It's safely stored back at my home in the Wandering Nation's territory."

My mind raced with possibilities. Could that one also be connected to the mission Niam had given me? I leaned forward, eager to learn more, but the baroness simply smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction.

"Perhaps we'll have time to discuss it further once we've returned home," she said, effectively closing the subject.

For now.