He kicked the foot of the creature just as the ground began to shake. “Must be nice to have never had to use your weapon under such pressure,” he mumbled.
The horse beneath her began to waver at the ground shaking. She reached down and rubbed its neck, assuring it it would be okay.
“No one shouts at me if they want to continue breathing,” she continued.
The roots began to take the Infi creature back into the dirt, and she had to avert her eyes, wishing she could close her ears at the noise of its bones being ripped from its insides and taken back to Duarb.
“I suppose that means my days are numbered then.”
She shook her head at him as she watched the Infi creature’s bones disappear into the forest floor. Something he’d said days before continued to bug her, and she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her.
“There are no children in your home younger than thirteen,” she said.
“Fair observation,” he bantered as he pulled himself back onto his horse. “What else have you noticed that you’ll be taking back to your kingdom?”
She wanted to throw something at him.
“I’m not taking back anything,” she argued. “It was a simple statement.”
“And where are you going with such a statement?” he said upon their starting to walk once more.
“I was going to ask if Duarb had given another Infinari child,” she admitted. “You’ve none of the younger children under Balandria’s wing, and…” she paused a moment, considering the words she was about to tell him. “Arbina has not given another since Nyssa and Dorian. She regularly gives children every ten years. I was curious if the same was happening to your kind.”
Draven’s jaw tightened, and he glanced solemnly in her direction. “Duarb has not given another Infinari child since Balandria,” he admitted. “I fear he knows something is coming. What, I do not know. But something has stopped the line of Kings.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair. “It is written in the Honest Scrolls, that if a Lesser One believes a threat great enough to our land is coming, they will cease breeding of the fated children. They will go into remission and await the right time for another to be brought forth to save the land.” Draven paused for a brief moment, and he looked at her. “The birth of an Infinari child after such a time is the First Sign.”
“First sign of what?” she asked.
“Haerland’s true freedom.”
Aydra frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Freedom,” he repeated. “As in the whole of the land free. No more curses or chains for my people or the Noctuans. No more Lesser Ones being bound to their trees or realms. No more fighting between the races. An entire united Haerland. The whole of the Echelon. Arbina’s children…. They are the Second and Third Signs. Which is why the birth of an Infinari child is so important. Even if she gives two before he, without the First Sign, they mean nothing to the Scrolls.”
“These stories… they are not written in the Chronicles. We have no record of such.”
“No,” Draven agreed. “The Chronicles only follow the way of the Dreamers and the Promised. They are not the truth.”
“Have you always had such hatred for Dreamers?”
“I could carry no hatred for such a loyal group of people. I can only fault them for believing everything spoken by the Lesser Ones.”
“Lovi Piathos is a Lesser One,” Aydra argued. “Are the Scrolls not his writings?”
“Lovi is merely the keeper of the Scrolls. The Scrolls are memory. Not record.”
“Who’s memory?”
He stared at her a moment. “Haerland’s.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THEY DIDN’T SPEAK much more in the hours it took to travel far enough away from the Venari home that Draven felt comfortable to call the Berdijay. The sun was about to begin its set, and she could see Draven start to shift nervously on his horse the closer they got to their destination.
The forest opened up to a great stream. Rocks lined the bottom of it, the clear waters radiating over the smooth surface. Draven leapt off the back of his horse and then held his hands out to her.
