Atira sheathed her weapons, but it took sometime before the others lowered their crossbows.
She urged the airion down then and it obeyed, its wings beating as it landed, raising a cloud of dust.
Amyu released her magic, and dismounted with much more grace than before. She couldn’t help grinning at the looks on their faces while they were all staring at the golden creature beside her.
Who promptly nudged her shoulder and creed. She reached up, and scratched under its mane.
All eyes shifted to her, then, and she tried for a more dignified look. “Heath, Warden of Xy,” she started formally, but then her joy was too much for her. “I found them!”
Other people flooded the area, Warren, Wilsa, and more guards. They all froze and approached cautiously.
“You did,” Heath laughed with her. “How did you—”
Amyu pulled the sword from her back. “Warden,” she said solemnly. “The Crystal Sword of Xy is whole again.”
That brought a gasp from everyone, at the sight of the sword in her hands. It glittered blue in the sunlight, and the stone of the ring flashed as well. Amyu noticed that Enright was using his white cloth to wipe his eyes.
“The protectors of Xy have arisen,” Amyu said as she gave the Sword and Ring back to Heath.
“Them?” Heath exclaimed. “There’s more?”
“Yes,” Amyu said. “Of various colors, including black. They are with the others. We didn’t want them flying off toward the walls, for fear they would be harmed.”
“Is it tame?” Atira asked, eyeing the sharp beak and talons.
“So far,” Amyu said. “But we have much to learn. The others are willing,” she grinned again, remembering the look of horror on some faces. “Well, some are.”
“Others?” Heath asked.
Amyu took a deep breath. “The warrior-priests-in-training,” she said.
Atira and Wilsa stiffened.
Amyu continued, “The ones that Joden spoke of. They heard me call to the airions and used their powers to travel here. They will aid me, if you allow it.”
“Warrior-priests,” Atira’s voice was flat and angry.
Amyu stared her down. “Yes. They seek their place, as I seek mine. As a barren woman of the Plains. As a child who disobeyed her elders. As a magic-wielder. As one who has given her oath to the Warlord and Warprize.”
Atira dropped her eyes, glanced at Heath, and then nodded. “Truth,” she acknowledged. “But they have not yet given their oaths.”
“We will come to you,” Heath said. “We will talk, and see what comes of that. What needs do you have?”
Amyu mounted the airion, and called her magic to form the straps. “We are in the fields outside of Kalisa’s cheese cave,” she said. “We need the saddles within, and new ones made,” she frowned again. “And more cows. I do not wish to wipe out their herd.”
“If they eat cows,” Heath laughed. “Then more cows you shall have. We will come as quickly as we can, Amyu of the Skies.”
Amyu jerked her head around to look at Heath. He bowed his head as a warrior bows to another. Her gaze traveled over all of them, and they all bowed their heads to her.
Emotion welled up in her chest. Pride, joy and something she dared call happiness.
Amyu blinked rapidly against her tears and urged her mount with her knees. The great creature creed and sprang up and off the tower, its wings spread as it dipped then rose gloriously into the sky.
Her heart was full. And maybe, just maybe, some of the cracks within were healing. But the largest crack? The largest flaw?
Joden was not here to see. To know. To share.
If she wept as she flew, only the skies were witness.
