Valbore (Tasks of the Nakairi Book 1) Read online

  Valbore

  Tasks of the Nakairi

  K. E. Young

  Tasks of the Nakairi: Valbore Copyright © 2018 by K. E. Young. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Clavis

  Portions of cover art Copyright 123RF Stock Photo

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  K. E. Young

  Visit my website at http://WorldsOfKEYoung.com

  My Mom is at fault for this mass of words. Without her tireless nagging, I would never have written this book and you wouldn't have a clue about the stories in my head. She's laughing over my shoulder as I write this in fact. So here it is.

  At times, this story was painful to write, but in the process of getting the story out of my head and into print, polishing it, and giving it to the world I have grown in ways I didn't expect. Just like Sara.

  …And it's all Mom's fault.

  Contents

  Valbore

  Prologue

  1: Beginnings

  2: Lessons

  3: Absence

  4: Hell

  5: Revelations

  6: Testimony

  7: Choices

  8: Trust

  9: Plots

  10: Allies

  11: River

  12: Family

  13: Search

  14: Vengeance Begun

  15: Valbore

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Sara: 14 years ago

  I gave him a hug when I entered. I was careful, but I could see it hurt him anyway. He was nothing but skin and bones now. Nobody would tell me how he was doing anymore. Their expressions told me he didn't have long. I didn't want to lose my dad, but I was only nine. I couldn't do anything about cancer and wishing wouldn't fix this.

  "Hey, Sunshine!" His voice was rough and whispery. He looked tired. His fingers idly picked at a new bandage on his arm.

  "Hi, Daddy. The nurses keep waking you up all night again?"

  His smile was wry. "Yeah. They tried a different painkiller, but it made me all itchy. I scratched until I bled before they noticed. They got a little upset over it. How's your mother handling things?"

  I looked over my shoulder. Mom was talking to the doctor. She was crying again. "Not very good. She got fired from the bar she was working at. Maureen told me some guy hit on her and she started crying. Fell apart right there in front of everybody. She's not eating enough either. I have to remind her to eat. Maybe she just doesn't like my cooking. I'm not real good at it."

  He looked sad. "This has been tough on her. Thanks for taking care of her. I know it's not right. You're nine. She should take care of you, not the other way around. I want you to understand that it's not her fault. She never really learned how to handle adversity."

  At my puzzled expression, he gave a coughing laugh and patted my hand. "I know your mom hasn't talked about her family at all. She has her reasons. When she was growing up, your mom lived in an extremely strict household. Her grandparents told her what to wear, what to do, what to say, what to think. They never allowed her to be herself, to be strong. They also didn't allow her to make decisions, so she's not real good at it. We loved each other, and I felt sorry for her so I wanted to rescue her from that. You can't force people to change though. I tried to do better with you."

  I gently gripped his frail hand. "Do better how?"

  "She never had choices. I made sure you did. I made sure you knew you could be the person you choose to be. Our choices make us who we are. If you want to be strong, you will be. If you want to be happy, you will be. Don't let anyone take that away from you. Be who you choose to be, not what others would have you be. If you're strong in here," he weakly tapped his temple, "you can do anything. Never forget that sunshine."

  "I won't, Daddy."

  "Sara, could you to go out to the waiting room, sweetie? I need to talk to your father." Mom's voice broke on the last word.

  I didn't want to leave. She promised I could spend more time than this with him. I loved him too! Why did she have to hog all the visiting time for herself?

  "Now, Sara!" Her voice was sharp this time.

  My shoulders slumped in defeat and I turned back to my father with a forced smile. "I gotta go. I love you, Daddy."

  He cupped my cheek. "I love you too, Sunshine."

  It was the last time I ever saw him. The funeral was eight days later.

  Sara: Present Day

  I carefully guided my wheelchair through the tombstones looking for my father's grave. The ground was uneven, and the loss of my eye meant I lacked depth perception so it was slow going.

  I finally found the right one and sat staring at it for a long while as the clouds overhead darkened with the promise of rain. "Sorry, Daddy. I can't do it anymore. You told me if I was strong I could do anything, but that's not true." I sobbed. "When I was little, I wanted to have a happy life, but that didn't happen. Then I just hoped that there would come a day when I could get away from the ugliness and I thought I had. Then Carlos happened and… I can't take it anymore."

  Tears blinded me and I awkwardly wiped them away with my half-hand. "I'm sorry, Daddy. The sunshine died when you did."

  The clouds rumbled as I slowly started back to the entrance to the cemetery. It would be a long bus ride home with a pill bottle at the end of it. There was nothing left for me and it wouldn't ever get any better. I was so tired of pain. It was time to make it stop. Forever.

  I hadn't even reached gates when lightning struck and the world ended.

  1: Beginnings

  Torin: 5th of Harvest, 3837

  Torin made his way through the brush. He had seen lightning come from the area of the stone ring and the dragonlords had tasked him with watching for such occurrences. He was also to send whatever interesting things came through the old portal to them in the capital. Usually, it was a dead animal, strange rocks, plants, or twisted wreckage, but he knew every once in a great while a portal brought a Nakairu. It had never happened here in his lifetime so he wasn't expecting much.

  The Nakairi were the real prize, brought here by that foreign Goddess to fulfill an unknown duty. They always brought change, but it was always for the good as far as he could see, though others disagreed. Their actions riddled the histories, sometimes large, sometimes small, but always important.

  Some argued that the Aria Atlani didn't belong here but the priests claimed the God welcomed them and gave them a home. It was hard to argue with a God. Torin didn't bother trying. The dragonlords paid well.

  He slipped through the last of the brush and stepped into the clearing housing the stone ring. Silvery stone pylons thirty feet tall, surrounding a disk of polished black stone. The black stone was uncanny. If you looked straight down you could see silvery shimmers deep down as if it was water. Neither snow nor dust stuck to it, and it never got hot even if you built a fire on it.

  It was well it didn't. It saved the woman slumped in the middle from burning. It was one of those scorching hot, sunny days before the rains hit and the stones of the path were almost hot enough to blister.

  She was a pretty, little thing, slender and graceful with long wavy dark brown hair. Her big, amber eyes fixed on the hand she held up to her face as i
f she had never seen it before. The poor girl looked confused and more than a little stunned. There was a dark blue cloth haversack beside her.

  He approached her with care so he didn't frighten her. She babbled something and he held his hands up and said, "Sorry, miss. I don't understand." Then he touched his chest. "Torin."

  She blinked and dipped her head while babbling something that included his name then touched her own chest and said, "Sara."

  She had pretty manners and seemed properly submissive. Torin smiled and motioned her to rise. This engendered another bout of confusion on her part as she stared at her feet for a moment and wiggled them before she stood. She was wearing soft trousers and a shirt. Her feet were bare.

  He'd have to do something about that. It wasn't proper wear for a female. As soon as she gained her feet, she grabbed the haversack and turned to Torin. She was taller than he had expected, taller than he was in fact.

  As he led her to the village, Torin realized he would have trouble getting her to the capital in safety. The girl was prettier than his granddaughter was and would catch the eye of every man who saw her. He would need to share his finder's fee with a guard or two. The dragonlords were explicit. Torin's orders specified that he deliver Nakairi intact and unharmed to the capital.

  Sara: 6th thru 9th of Harvest, 3837

  Torin led me across scrubland and fields to his village. It was late afternoon and sweltering. The path burned my feet but it felt wonderful walking again. I didn't understand how it had happened, but I intended to enjoy it while I could.

  When we arrived at the village, Torin took me into his house and introduced me to his family. After dinner, I shared a bed with a girl who might be his granddaughter. His family tried to ignore me as best they could though. It hurt, but I couldn't blame them. Nobody ever wanted to get to know me. The next morning, Torin's wife gave me a loose dress to wear and a pair of socks with tar painted soles, stuffed my old clothes into my backpack, and then led me outside. Torin and two other tough looking older men were puttering with some animals that looked like horses with horns and a split lip like a springbok. I liked their stripes.

  I was scared. It felt too much like when they shuffled me from one foster family to another, except this was worse because I understood nothing that had happened. How had I gotten here? What happened to all my scars? How could I walk? The bits the doctors had amputated were back and I'm sure that can't happen! Did God exist after all? Was God giving me a second chance?

  A dim, tenuous hope lodged in my heart. I wanted a second chance so bad I could taste it. However, it was too soon to tell if this was the second chance I wanted or a new hell. It was more likely the lightning in the cemetery hit me and all of this was the hallucination of a dying mind. I hadn't worn sweats to the cemetery, but I was definitely wearing them when I awoke in this place.

  After the first night on the road, I tried to retrieve my sweatpants. The saddle was chafing the skin of my inner thighs and I thought they would help relieve the problem. Torin got upset. Really, really upset. Torin yelled. This was my first clue the situation wasn't as friendly as I hoped.

  For the next three days, I rode behind Torin or one of the other two. They never tried to talk so I dubbed them Thing One and Thing Two in my mind, although Torin called them Adraf and Fors. We would leave at dawn and travel until dark. We spent the nights at inns and my dinner was in private rather than the common room.

  It was clear Torin was keeping me sequestered, but given the looks on the faces of men we passed on the road, I was glad for it. Only Torin ever spoke to me, and he kept to simple commands such as 'come', 'sit', and 'eat'. It made me feel like a dog.

  What was more alarming was that Torin kept blocking my attempts to draw them out so I could learn the language. He looked displeased every time I tried although he didn't yell again. Things One and Two refused to acknowledge my existence. It hurt and was a little scary.

  The hope that had grown in me dwindled, replaced with a vague dread. Nightmares and the pain of sore muscles interrupted my sleep and I got more and more tired over the course of the journey. The long ride had chafed the insides of my thighs almost raw.

  On the third day, we came over a hill and I saw a city in the valley with a large sprawling palace on a cliff above it. It seemed we were nearing the end of our interminable journey. I hoped it included a bath.

  We took another four hours before we passed through the palace gates, the guard sending a boy running ahead. Beyond the gates were beautiful gardens and whenever I caught a stray breeze, I smelled the flowers. Unfortunately, all I could smell the rest of the time was sweaty horse-thing and Thing Two.

  The palace itself was beautiful but odd, constructed of a creamy stone with the curvy organic feel of Antoni Gaudi's work and looked as if someone had poured it from a bottle. The style didn't match the buildings I had seen so far at all.

  Torin: 9th of Harvest, 3837

  Torin thanked the Lord of the Sky that this duty was almost complete. His old bones didn't enjoy him spending all day in the saddle the way he had in his youth. He glanced at the girl and noted her exhaustion.

  Her night terrors had woken them all again last night. He wondered what demons haunted her.

  Sara: 9th of Harvest, 3837

  There was an officious fellow with gray hair coming down the front steps as we arrived. He waved us inside with a sniff. The entry hall was an impressive rotunda with staircases spiraling up four stories leading to high arched hallways. Everything was of the same dense cream-colored stone as the exterior and appeared carved from a single piece with no seams or cracks anywhere. The single exception was a tall, thick granite pillar in the center of the rotunda with a thin crack running from the floor all the way to the ceiling.

  He led us down a long hall, and after a turn or three, we entered an office. It was spacious with wide windows and wood paneling. Heavy wood furniture and a fireplace filled the space. Behind the desk was a very tall solid man with black hair, deep bronze skin, and the orangey-gold eyes of a raptor. Standing next to him was a short spare man with steel-gray hair and gray eyes.

  Torin stepped forward and bowed to the tall man. They spoke for a few minutes as the tall man examined me with a thoughtful expression. When Torin wound down, the big guy grunted and stepped forward for a closer look, pacing around me as if he were examining a horse.

  He stopped in front of me, pointed at himself, and said, "Dragos." Then he pointed at the man and said, "Durra." Finally, he pointed at me with a questioning expression.

  I curtseyed and responded. "Sara." The anxiety I had been living with since coming to this place simmered under my skin.

  He grunted and nodded then turned back to Torin and asked a question and Torin held my pack out to him. Dragos squatted and looked through my backpack and examined my clothes, expressing confused curiosity at my laptop. He nodded to Durra and said something to him before straightening and turning to Torin. He counted out a stack of gold coins and handed them off with a smile and a heavy nod.

  Torin sold me! My anxiety spiked into outright fear. My stomach roiled and my heart pounded. Was the new chance I had wished for and thought I had been given about to be taken from me?

  Dragos stood in front of me as Torin left. I gave little notice when a servant snagged my belongings and trotted away under Durra's whispered directions.

  Dragos was intimidating. Everyone I had seen here was on the short side with blond, light brown or gray hair and pale eyes. Dragos was something else again. He felt like a predator. The one thing that kept me from panicking at this point was the kind look in his orange-gold eyes, that faint, frail hope that this time I wouldn't be hurt. He gave me a small smile and held his open hands up before slowly placing them on my head. His long fingers threaded through my hair and I felt static as the world went white and my ears roared. It seemed to go on for a long time as I stood frozen and numb.

  I wavered as my eyes and ears cleared. Dragos caught my elbow with a gentle hand
to steady me. "Are you all right?"

  I took a few seconds to realize he wasn't speaking English. It was another few moments before I fumbled through the huge new vocabulary and language rules I found in my head to produce the words I needed. His brow creased with concern before I could say anything. "My head hurts and I'm having trouble thinking. I'm glad I can understand you though."

  He smiled a little and patted my shoulder. "Yes. I thought you might appreciate being able to understand those around you so I gave you the trade tongue used here in Therys. It may take a few hours for the new knowledge to settle in. Your headache should fade soon." He tipped his head and looked more serious. "You needn't fear. You are safe here. I'm making you my ward. As my ward, I will provide for your needs; quarters, clothing, tutors, and whatever else you need. We'll talk tomorrow once you've settled in and I'll explain in more detail. Durra here is the housemaster. If you need anything, ask. Meanwhile, he'll show you to your quarters."

  I was feeling stunned and light headed. Was I going to get my second chance after all or was there a hidden cost he was keeping from me? "Thank you, sir."

  Kindness graced his expression as he patted my shoulder. "Go on now. You look as if you could use a bath and some rest."

  I nodded and meekly followed Durra. My instincts still told me Dragos was a predator and I wasn't comfortable around him. I wasn't truly comfortable around anyone.

  I trailed Durra back to the entrance hall then up a set of stairs to the second floor and down a wide curving hallway. The hallway ended at another nexus of hallways shaped like a starfish, he turned down another, narrower hall and stopped at an arched door. Inside was a nice room that reminded me of a hotel suite with a good-sized bed, wardrobe, desk, table, shelves, and several chairs. The bed was in an alcove and a bathroom was through a curtained archway to one side. A wide bay window with a bench seat and a large deep green rug dominated the space.