herself of its childish nature. “She said the kaia was an old beast, from the other plane, once a mere serpent, charged by foul gods to devour the children of the genasi. But a clever child, unafraid of the serpent, had fought back, tricking the kaia into the burning light of day. Frightened, it had retreated into the deep forest to hide. But when the Blue Breath of Change came, the hungry kaia followed us. It hid in the dark and gave birth to nightmares that were sent to spy upon the genasi children.
“Those they could not frighten were left alone, safe in their beds. But those that cried out and hid beneath their blankets until dawn… those children had their names carved into the trees of the kaia’s forest, So that it could read them and know which ones were safe to eat.”
Ghaelya thought back, having never cried out when the nightmares had come to test her. But she had scolded Tessaeril many times for being scared. Ghaelya had been the brave one, fond of teasing her sister about the kaia-trees, but in reality she had only been better at hiding her fear. Though she’d grown out of the tales quickly, she never forgot the Mother of Nightmares. Watching intently for Vaasurri’s return, she whispered to Uthalion again.
“Have you ever seen it?” she asked.
“Gods no, and I thank whatever gods that have pity on me for that,” he answered swiftly, “But I’ve been chased, had a close call or two____”
Vaasurri rejoined them, holding the swinging lantern close to his face. His return interrupted Ghaelya’s. thoughts of being pursued by the kaia. The howls of the dreamers had ceased quite some time ago, and she’d nearly forgotten the danger that had driven them into the night in the first place.
“There’s a spur up ahead,” the killoren reported. “We can rest there a moment and get our bearings, then we’ll see if we can slip through the thick of it before morning.”
The forest floor sloped up slightly as they made their careful way onward. The rock spurs were the namesake of the forest, massive uprisings of smooth stone, curled into figures like sharp claws that gouged at the sky. Rock, flowing like water, had made the strange formations, twisted from beneath the soil in the foothills of the Akanapeaks and surrounded by floating islands of trees. The spur they approached was small in comparison to the others, standing only twice as high as the tallest trees in the forest.
Climbing the base of the towering rock, Ghaelya kept an eye over her shoulder, expecting the shiny gleam of the dreamers’ eyes to come bounding from the forest’s edge at any moment. She sat watching the clump of shadows the trees had become, her eyes nigh useless in the deeper dark of the wild, far from the constant lights of the city. She’d taken that light for granted, confident in her ability to take on anything and anyone that threatened her even in the lower districts of Airspur. Blades shining in lamplight were little threat compared to teeth in the dark.
She resisted the urge to light her torch, hungering for light as they waited for Vaasurri in the dark. Uthalion paced behind her, staring south into the smooth blanket of velvety blackness beneath a ceiling of stars. Brindani crouched nearby, his vision only slightly better than her own.
Her readiness to move on competed with the tired ache in her legs and the weary shaking of her hands. She closed her eyes once, drifting off for a heartbeat, just long enough to hear the faint edge of the constant song in her dreams. Her eyes fluttered open, a sharp edge of guilt twisting in her stomach at the sound of the ethereal singing. It swam to her, Tessaeril’s voice inexorably sliding through her thoughts as if her sister were lost underwater, far from the surface and drowning.
Brindani touched her shoulder, and she gasped, not realizing she’d held her breath.
“We’re ready,” he said quietly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, the ache in her
“Those they could not frighten were left alone, safe in their beds. But those that cried out and hid beneath their blankets until dawn… those children had their names carved into the trees of the kaia’s forest, So that it could read them and know which ones were safe to eat.”
Ghaelya thought back, having never cried out when the nightmares had come to test her. But she had scolded Tessaeril many times for being scared. Ghaelya had been the brave one, fond of teasing her sister about the kaia-trees, but in reality she had only been better at hiding her fear. Though she’d grown out of the tales quickly, she never forgot the Mother of Nightmares. Watching intently for Vaasurri’s return, she whispered to Uthalion again.
“Have you ever seen it?” she asked.
“Gods no, and I thank whatever gods that have pity on me for that,” he answered swiftly, “But I’ve been chased, had a close call or two____”
Vaasurri rejoined them, holding the swinging lantern close to his face. His return interrupted Ghaelya’s. thoughts of being pursued by the kaia. The howls of the dreamers had ceased quite some time ago, and she’d nearly forgotten the danger that had driven them into the night in the first place.
“There’s a spur up ahead,” the killoren reported. “We can rest there a moment and get our bearings, then we’ll see if we can slip through the thick of it before morning.”
The forest floor sloped up slightly as they made their careful way onward. The rock spurs were the namesake of the forest, massive uprisings of smooth stone, curled into figures like sharp claws that gouged at the sky. Rock, flowing like water, had made the strange formations, twisted from beneath the soil in the foothills of the Akanapeaks and surrounded by floating islands of trees. The spur they approached was small in comparison to the others, standing only twice as high as the tallest trees in the forest.
Climbing the base of the towering rock, Ghaelya kept an eye over her shoulder, expecting the shiny gleam of the dreamers’ eyes to come bounding from the forest’s edge at any moment. She sat watching the clump of shadows the trees had become, her eyes nigh useless in the deeper dark of the wild, far from the constant lights of the city. She’d taken that light for granted, confident in her ability to take on anything and anyone that threatened her even in the lower districts of Airspur. Blades shining in lamplight were little threat compared to teeth in the dark.
She resisted the urge to light her torch, hungering for light as they waited for Vaasurri in the dark. Uthalion paced behind her, staring south into the smooth blanket of velvety blackness beneath a ceiling of stars. Brindani crouched nearby, his vision only slightly better than her own.
Her readiness to move on competed with the tired ache in her legs and the weary shaking of her hands. She closed her eyes once, drifting off for a heartbeat, just long enough to hear the faint edge of the constant song in her dreams. Her eyes fluttered open, a sharp edge of guilt twisting in her stomach at the sound of the ethereal singing. It swam to her, Tessaeril’s voice inexorably sliding through her thoughts as if her sister were lost underwater, far from the surface and drowning.
Brindani touched her shoulder, and she gasped, not realizing she’d held her breath.
“We’re ready,” he said quietly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, the ache in her
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