AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Which meant it had chosen not to kill them.
The newcomer lifted his hands in surrender. ‘Don’t panic. I’m on your side,’ the man smiled. ‘I’m both a Känon and Kaugur and can transmute into many things. A khora, a Kärd, even a K?'nere, all at will.’
Killen double-checked the man’s body for any evidence of his injuries. There were none. He sensed a powerful web of íkan dancing around the stranger.
‘What do you want?’ he demanded in a snarl. ‘What was this song and dance about?’
The outsider raked his eyes over the pair. ‘To ascertain what you’re made of, whether you’re worthy.’
Killen raised a brow. ‘Of what?’
‘Of the mantle about to be placed on your shoulders. Of the call on your life, Kíríga.’
Killen cocked his head. ‘What makes you think I’m the usurper?.’
The older man’s lips twisted. ‘Don’t toy with me. Your hawkstone energy gives you away. Let’s not waste time on frivolities. I’m here because you high íkan wisdom and the axillae to fight off the frothing arokí and their quest to permeate this land in darkness. Rumours are they’ve found the nýkhta lance, an ancient shadow-infused pike. One that unfailingly reaches its target. Because it’s been bathed in kízakan and necrotic miasmic entrails of a sacrificed black ilki. We can’t let them resurrect the night spear. Nor Khiron, who can wrest the hawkstone from your temple if they do. We’ll need to destroy it, or Katáne will be lost.’
Killen’s lodestone flashed, and his eyes narrowed, fixing them on the shapeshifting khora. ‘You’re Koreau, the peace giver.’
The man inclined his head with a slight bow. ‘I am he.’
‘A khora. King’s killer or a kings-man?’
‘Always the latter; I only seek the ultimate kir?ne - peace - for the throne.’
Sana’a circled him, her blades still drawn. ‘Kultur spoke of you. Doesn’t mean we trust you.’
The känon smirked. ‘He did, did he? I’ve missed my old friend; he deserves a visit.’
He turned on his heel and strode into the íkan infused building. ‘With me. We’ve much to discuss.’
When they hesitated, he gave a small laugh. ‘I was once a keeper of this place. Only a foolish Ka?'m??r? fouls its own nest. So get the fokk up here and follow me.’
Koreau led them to the kíota’s central courtyard.
They found Kultur standing on the spacious open terrace, staring at the trio as they marched in, hands crossed over his chest.
‘What did you two hapless and noisy friarbirds drag in?’ he growled, looking not in the least pleased. ‘A demonic nightjar from the looks of it.’
‘Oh Kag?an, it speaks,’ Koreau threw back. ‘When we were young, all Kultur could do was mumble gibberish and turn bright red during any small interaction. Now here he is, a Kaugur and keeper of the King’s den, stringing together words like a monarch in the land of the witless.’
‘You should come with a warning label,’ Kultur shot back. ‘Isn’t there a koya floating somewhere close you ought to be jumping in front of?’
Despite the vitriol dripping from their mouths, the two unlikely acquaintances greeted each other with some wariness, clapping hands on the other’s backs.
Kultur turned to Sana’a and Killen. ‘Do you know who this fine creature truly is?’ he said, pointing a finger at Koreau.
‘We’ve been appraised, in bits and pieces,’ Killen murmured.
Kultur continued as if the Kíríga had not spoken. ‘He heads the S’ki? council, a secret group of powerful Kä’avi who support your right to the throne. They refused to align themselves with his grandfather, hid their libraries from the Luddite arokí and have been fighting their dark kätu for eons now. With sharp, quick intuition, there’s no finer man you want by your side in such a time as this.’
Killen’s eyes flicked over Koreau. ‘We are honoured with your presence then.’
Kultur’s forehead fell into severe furrows as he turned to his visitor. ‘You inclined your ear to the call of íkan?’
‘I did. But first things first,’ Koreau said, stepping to Killen. ‘Let me re-acquaint myself with the hawkstone, if I may.’
Killen pursed his lips, his eyes cutting in warning.
