“Iryana.” Her grandmother’s voice, stern and unyielding, froze her retreat. “You will join us too.”
Chapter Five
Iryana was the last to slip into the smaller hall, typically reserved for clan-only gatherings and lessons for guardians-in-training. The wood-clad room was a mess, full of boxes of supplies in the corners even though she knew their storage rooms had to have space.
The same pale wooden planks covered the walls and floors, but you could hardly see them behind the mismatched rug collection and assorted paintings, tapestries, and carvings. Most everything in the Kleesold’s house was decades old, from the multiple homes they had retreated through before ending up in the valley. The finest pieces were from their grand fort-like manor in Klees, back when there were things like balls and high society, though such things seemed ridiculous now.
Iryana remembered everything being in a much better state when she had lived in the main house before. The clan had fallen far. Life was tough at the border posts, and it got more dangerous every year, but it was still a shock. In her mind, the clan was an unbending and unrelenting force that could never be defeated.
Aunt Emadya swirled through the group, herding the youngest children to sit on the frayed rug in the center of the room. When she caught Iryana’s eye, she raised her brow and gave her a stern look. It was her aunt's way of reminding Iryana of her repeated attempts to force her back into the family.
Iryana looked away quickly, watching Tonhald rush over to help his wife with their daughter. Then her gaze continued on to her other cousins, who were already squabbling at the side of the room. They had clearly missed the gravity of their grandmother’s tone.
Kladara was laughing loudly, harassing Edvar about his progress at archery practice earlier, and he huffed and rolled his eyes in return. She watched as the youngest, Levek, jumped in and defended Edvar to their older sister. It was so normal.
Iryana scooted further into the room, sliding along the back wall toward a large basket of linens waiting to be washed. Mostly, no one looked at her. It was the only thing that kept her calm enough to stay, damn the consequences.
Her family was loud, talking over each other, and Iryana struggled to find her grandmother or Gornhal, the Second, through the fray. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign, but her stomach twisted all the same.
“Misha!” A familiar voice called out, barely loud enough to make it over the ruckus, but Iryana’s head snapped in its direction. Tension somehow coiled tighter through her.
Hadima was making her way through the room, and Iryana couldn’t help but note how exhausted she looked. A girl with long light-brown braids the same color as Iryana’s bounded over to their older sister. Face tense, Hadima rested her hands on Misha’s shoulders and tucked her into her side. Misha started chatting, but Iryana couldn’t make out the words.
Hadima was looking down at Misha with the comforting warmth in her eyes that Iryana used to receive. Like when their mother sent them out of the cottage so she could care for their father. Or at night when they’d huddle atop the oven together, blocking out the shouting from the bedroom. It was a look that had made her feel safe, like her sister would take care of everything and she needn’t worry.
Gods how she missed that feeling.
Pain ripped through her, and Iryana retreated until her back hit the wooden wall, her head bumping into an old painting. The room was too warm, the air pressing in on her, and Iryana wanted nothing more than to disappear. She should have run despite the First’s command.
The arrival of the First, with the Second trailing behind, ripped her attention away from her sisters. Gornhal was a large man, a metal-forged warrior that mesmerized her anytime Iryana watched him fight. He wasn’t showy, but patient and efficient with his sword. Gornhal’s face wasn’t quite as blank as his aunt’s, his grizzled face appearing stuck in a wince, as if a weight had fallen over him.
Iryana swallowed, bracing herself against the wall. Wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
“Gornhal brings word from the duchess.” The First wasted no time on greetings. “I know we have speculated since we were summoned about what this could mean for our clan, and many of you have been worried.
“We have been struggling to hold the Dovaki Post, more so than the others. For some reason, our valley hangs above land favored by the dakii. This is not a surprise to anyone, but I am afraid I have failed you all.” Her eyes were distant, without her usual serious expression.
No. Iryana felt her arms slip down to dangle at her sides.
Gornhal reached over and squeezed the First’s shoulder.
Vesima barely spared Gornhal a glance before continuing. “The Kleesold family served the Kingdom of Istri from the time it was formed until it collapsed fifteen years ago, and we have served the duchess and this settlement ever since. We have a proud history, a history I had thought would continue long after I’m gone, but in this new age, our only value is in our ability to hold this post.”
No, no.Iryana didn’t want to hear the rest, knew it would cut too deep. All she wanted was for the Kleesolds to be strong, to take care of each other and the valley. Even if she could no longer handle being a part of them, no longer fit, she lived for each glimpse. Every stolen moment.
The resentment that still simmered in her was nothing compared to her love for them. They were everything to her. All she cared about.
Iryana pressed back harder into the wall. The room grew oppressively silent, as if everyone had stopped breathing.
Swaying slightly, the First took a deep breath before continuing. “The duchess has decided that the Kleesold clan can no longer perform this duty. Our post will be removed, and the valley abandoned.”
Iryana stared in shock, her grandmother’s voice seeming to echo unendingly through the room. Their post would beremoved? What did that mean for the clan?
Everything was falling apart, and she couldn’t grasp at the pieces.
“What of us? Where will we go?” Aunt Emadya called out above the others, voice shaking.
“The Kleesold Guardians will be spread amongst the other posts, to strengthen them. We are not the only ones struggling.” The First took a slow breath. “We have until winter.”
