The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

“Lessa.” Her attention snapped from the fire to Zar, in his hand was the chain for sparring. “It’s time to train.”

On legs weak from riding dragon back all day Lessa rose, “I thought we were done with that?”

Amusement curled his lips when he shook his head. “Training never stops.”

“Oh,” was all her disappointment allowed her. She took the thin silver chain from his fingers and wrapped it around the hilt of her black blade. The moment it was clipped into place Zar came at her.

She dodged backward, just out of his reach, and jumped back to avoid his backstroke. Lessa lunged forward bringing her sword tip straight toward his shoulder. His brilliant silver-white blade flicked up to intercept her blow and he flung her attack away while he brought his arms up and stepped backward under his own arms, bringing them back to back.

She hated when he did this.

He attacked low, Lessa arched back and rolled backward over his body to land just behind him. Her black blade came up in an arc toward him. Zar dodged, barely. His sword came up directly toward her face, she batted it aside and swung for him again, but once again his sword caught hers and deflected it away.

With incredible speed, Zar came toward her with a bombardment of rapid-fire blows.

Zar pressed her back as Lessa blocked, dodged, and deflected. It was impossible to maintain this level of speed for long without completely exhausting yourself. If she could survive, she might come out on the other side with the upper hand.

With her last step back Lessa hit a tree, she rolled around it to the side, putting the trunk between them.

This was her opportunity, she took it and swung at Zar, he brought his sword up to block her own. But then he did something she did not expect, his sword whipped to the other side of her own and he pushed behind her sword, swinging it harder and faster. Directly into the tree trunk.

The smokey black blade buried deeply into the wood, she jerked on the handle and it didn’t move. She yanked and jerked while she watched him approach her.

Zar’s eyes said ‘figure it out’ while he chuckled and came at her. Lessa dropped to the ground just in time for his sword to hit her own, still lodged in the tree.

With every ounce of might she could muster, Lessa launched into Zar’s stomach.

A huff was forced from his lungs at her impact, she brought them both to the ground. But with a mighty bucking kick she flipped herself over him and grabbed his sword’s handle, cartwheeling to land with his weapon in her hand, pointing down at him.

“No, don’t!” He half rolled onto his stomach with his hand outreached toward her.

“What?” Her eyes scanned their surroundings wildly looking for what was so alarming.

“Huh.” He popped up to his feet, a single dark brow cocked up over his deep blue eyes. “Does that not hurt?”

“Why would it hurt?” she asked as she offered his sword back.

He didn’t take it.

“That’s completely unfair.” Worran piped up from where he had been watching the fight by the campfire. “The first, and last time I tried to hold your sword I had to have a healing done. Why isn’t it burning her?”

Suddenly, Lessa saw this sword in a new light, she held it out at full arm's distance to Zar. He still didn’t take it. He just stared at it in her hand. “It burned him?”

“This sword is as old as Kathardra itself. It has been handed from king to king along with the throne. It doesn’t take kindly to being wielded by anyone else.”

She thrust the handle toward him with wide eyes. “Anyone but me?”

“Apparently.” He finally took his sword back. “Maybe it’s because we are tied by the prophecy.”

“Seems mighty convenient,” mumbled Worran with a dark look on his face.

“You really managed to wedge this in here, did you?” As Lessa spoke she examined her sword sliced into the tree. She pulled on the handle with little give, she rocked against it with all her force and it barely moved.

“Let me try,” Zar came over and grasped her sword’s hilt, with muscles bulging he heaved on the blade but it only shifted a bit.

He frowned at it. His eyes became intensely focused. Lessa knew at once what he was doing: using magic. It seemed that any Kathardrean who wielded magic got intensely focused right before something impossible happened.

He yanked on the sword again and a great chunk of wood released from the tree and her blade came out smoothly.

“Thank you.” She took her sword back from him.

“Just think. Soon, I won’t be the only one Wielding.”

She only rolled her eyes.

He gave her that dazzling smile and shook his head. “Let’s go again. We can get a real fight in by the time Worran has dinner done.”

“By the time Worran does what?” the redhead demanded.

Sweat beaded between Lessa’s brows and ran down the side of her nose. Her chest heaved up and down, and her sword was held high in a guard position she could use to attack or guard just as readily.

“Look at this,” Storm interrupted Lessa’s concentration with a mental image.

“What is that?” she gasped out loud.

“What is what?” Worran shot up, and with squinted eyes he tried to line up what Lessa was looking at.

“It's the dragon,” Zar waved off Worran’s searching.

“What do you mean it’s the dragon?”

Very nearly forgetting to sheath her sword Lessa took off into the forest, “Come on!” she called to them.

“Lessa!” Zar barked her name, but she ignored him and ran to where Storm was hovering over the river.

The boys caught up to her just as she skidded to a stop at the bank. Before her was an idyllic stretch of river just below a set of scattered boulders, blanketed in moss, water ran over them in a tranquil fall, everything bathed in the red of late sunset. The water swirled into a large deep pool before it narrowed out again and continued south.

As beautiful as it was, the object of Storm and Lessa’s curiosity were the stones at the bottom. These were not typical river rocks. There was a scattered rainbow of colors at the bottom, each sparkling pearlescent.

“What?” Worran demanded over her left shoulder.

With insistent wonder in her eyes, Lessa pointed to the bottom of the river.

“She’s never seen a fairy fountain,” Zar explained over her right shoulder.

“Fairies?” her voice rose an octave.

“Who is this dragon-flamed girl?” Worran mumbled as he turned and stalked back toward camp.

“Fairies?”

In response, Zar nodded and squatted to fish some of the sparking colored rocks from the bank.

“It has been said that fairies used to come into Kathardra from the fairy fountains. Because they were creatures of magic they only needed to touch the rocks to change them.”

He held out a blue stone smaller than Lessa’s thumbnail. She held out her hand and he dropped it into her palm. It was lighter than she would have expected, and as smooth as glass. When she rubbed her thumb over it, it almost felt waxy.

“Here look.” In Zar’s hand was another blue stone... He rapped it hard against the rock upon which he stood and it cracked open like an especially thick-shelled egg. He pried it open and inside was a viscous blue liquid.

“Consuming this will ward off sleep. But it is so potent that you might start to see visions. Inside of the yellow is a gel so flammable it will burn even the wettest log. The green ones will heal just about any wound, and the red ones are a powerful poison.”

A frown creased Lessa’s brow, “Some of those sound useful, shouldn’t we bring some?”

Zar shrugged, “If I couldn’t wield magic I’d say yes. But there is nothing in this river I can’t do, without adding weight to the horses.”

Lessa fisted the blue stone staring out into the water. “So what happened to the fairies?”

He rose to his full height and studied the remaining stone in his hand. “I don’t know. Nobody does. The only reason we know fairies are more than a legend is because of ponds like this.” In a smooth motion, Zar drew his hand back and whipped the stone forward, sending it whizzing over the top of the water in a series of tight skips.

“Let’s get back. Dinner should be done by now.”

The next day was a repeat of the first. But Lessa did not even bother trying to ride Leo. She saddled him and then climbed directly into Storm’s saddle.

“I know.” Zar’s mouth opened but Lessa headed him off. “Stay out of sight.”

Storm jumped into the air.

“I wish Worran would back off.” She could see the boys getting smaller and smaller under them.

“Maybe it will make Zar jealous.” the dragon teased.

“I don’t think so. I’m little more than a tool to Zar. I’m here to fulfill his prophecy. That’s all.”

A contemplative growl rumbled from Storm. “I don’t think that is fair.”

“....I know. I just….

“I know.”

They stayed airborne for most of the day. Stopping only for Storm to rest her wings and for Lessa to squat under trees. Lessa had wised up from being hungry the day before and had tied a pouch with lunch to her belt.

It was nearing dusk when the boys and horses stopped again.

As soon as camp was set Zar pulled his sword from his sheath and without a word Lessa followed suit.

She was panting, red-faced, and dripping sweat by the time he held up his hand and declared they were done.

With great satisfaction, Lessa saw that Zar was panting as hard as she was.

When had she gotten to the point when she was pushing him as hard as he was pushing her?

“I’ve got to take a bath.” She wiped her brow with her forearm and winced, she was dirty enough that she probably just smeared mud along her forehead.

As she was digging for her extra clothes from her saddlebags she glared at Worran. “Storm is going to keep watch for me. So don’t even dare try to follow me.”

“I’ll wait on your invite, love,”

Lessa held up a middle finger over her head as she walked away. It probably meant nothing to Worran but it made her feel better.

Storm crawled into the water as Lessa quickly stripped her clothes. The dragon started feeding a steady stream of fire into the water and Lessa rushed in, eager to have the water cover her nudity. Somehow, being naked in the water was more comfortable than being naked in the open air.

She washed with her little bar of soap she had brought from Haven, being careful to use as little as possible. There was no telling when she would be able to get more.

It took her some time but she was able to work through most of the tangles in her hair. If there was one thing she pined for from home it was conditioner. Her curls had been suffering. It was a daily struggle to keep her brown waves from dreadlocking, and she normally resorted to keeping it in a braid every moment she wasn’t sleeping.

Once she was clean both Lessa and Storm moved to the riverbank, it was a warm enough night that Lessa was barely chilled in the air. Storm spread her wings forward around Lessa, and gurgled a flame in her throat. Her entire neck heated like a furnace and Lessa rubbed her arms trying to help her skin dry faster.

“I’ve changed.”

And she had. Her arms were notably corded. Her abdomen was taut and her abs were visible under her skin. Having grown up on a farm, bucking bales and caring for horses had gone a long way to make Lessa a tough girl, but now after months of intense training, she was downright muscular.

“Don’t get conceited. It doesn’t look good on you.” Storm stuck her nose in the air and let out a thin jet of fire.

“Didn’t you once call yourself the ‘emerald queen of the sky?’”

“I said it doesn’t look good on you. Everything looks good on me.”

A sardonic snort escaped Lessa’s nose.

“Pot meet kettle,” Lessa murmured aloud.

“Really though. I didn’t think I was capable of being this athletic. I think Kathardra did something to me. I swear I can see better at night too, and hear better, and even smell better.”

Originally Lessa attributed her change in vision to living where the lights were either magic or lantern flame. She thought the lack of electric lights had helped her eyes adapt to natural darkness. But now that they were away from Haven, and her vision still allowed her to see clearly in the grayscale of night, it had to be something else.

Additionally, she realized she could hear more, and more precisely than she used to. She was able to pick out the exact place an owl was sitting yards away, just because she had heard its talons scrape the branch it landed on.

“Do you think Kathardrean’s have better senses? Maybe I’m…. Turning into one?”

“Ask Zar if he can see as much as you in the dark.”

She didn’t feel comfortable asking such a stupid question in front of Worran. She’d have to try to remember next time he wasn’t around. She finished tying her tunic-style dress off to the side. She was wearing the blue one now, she’d have to wash the others next time she bathed. And find a moment for them to dry in the sun.

She gathered her things and headed back toward camp, Storm walked behind her through the trees, nudging Lessa lovingly each time she got a chance.

“Feel better?” Zar asked just as soon as she came within reach of the campfire.

“Much be- what happened to you?” She cut off mid-sentence when her eyes fell on Worran. A dark purple circle was spreading under and around his right eye, leaking up the bridge of his nose in sickly yellow.

Zar and Worran locked eyes.

They seemed to have an entire conversation silently.

Worran’s brow twitched up insignificantly.

Zar’s head shook by millimeters.

The response from Worran was a bare twitch of a head tilt.

Zar replied by clenching his jaw.

“I walked into a tree,” Worran announced cheerfully.

Lessa perched lightly on a fallen log and raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You walked. Into, a tree?”

His response was prompt and assured “Yes.”

“Uh huh... Zar?”

“Yes?”

“Did your knuckles also walk into a tree?” She nodded at his reddened knuckles.

He looked down at his hand a little surprised. He rubbed his other hand over them, obviously healing his damaged fist. “No, they did not.” He held up his unblemished hand.

A frustrated sigh huffed out of Lessa. They both stared at her with false innocence.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

They responded as one.

“No.”

“Nope.”