A Breath of Sunlight Read online

  Soon, the valkyrie city of Crowbeak came into view. Bright blue water surrounded the island, nestled against a tall, steep cliff. Numerous trees blocked her view until she flew closer, over dozens of valkyrie huts situated in trees or made of rocks, mud, or straw on the ground. A waterfall cascaded off the steep cliff and crashed into the river below. The arena lay near the slowest section of the river, surrounded by griffin stalls, fields, and recreational buildings.

  Three towers stretched high above the trees, billowing torches lighting each sentry standing on top. One of them nodded her head in greeting as she flew past, and she nodded back.

  Crowbeak was whisper-silent, hushed after long days of planning the attack on the Pits and seeing it to fruition. No one wandered about at the late hour, and she glided toward the cliff without incident.

  Nestled against the cliff, high above Crowbeak, lay her own abode. The sight of the circular structure with a thatched roof helped calm the storm brewing within her.

  The silence of the night deafened her as her feet touched down on the wooden porch that wrapped around her circular hut. The whisper of her wings and light footfalls seemed amplified in the darkness as she unlatched her door, stepped inside the structure, and closed the door behind her. All her belongings stared back at her in the dim moonlight entering the windows. A stove tucked in the corner. A table in the middle of the room. A fireplace to keep her warm during chilly nights.

  Several stairs creaked as she climbed to the second story, her fingers trailing over the railing winding upward.

  Her bedroom remained the same as always, despite the week of her absence. A bed lay in the middle of the room with a large window on one side. The drapes fluttered in the light breeze to reveal the beautiful moon gleaming in the night sky. Weapons lined nearly every inch of one of the walls. Mostly beautiful jeweled daggers and magical artifacts she’d found over the years.

  She slipped her boots off, and her bare feet padded softly across the room to her vanity. The woman in the mirror shocked her for a moment. She was different. Softer.

  Reaching for the dagger strapped to her shoulder, she slammed it down on the wooden surface of the vanity and closed her eyes. Her knuckles strained against her strong grip on the weapon.

  Far too many emotions tumbled inside her heart. Anger. Sadness. Shock. Disbelief. And above all, confusion.

  Finally, she opened her eyes to stare at the lone dagger beneath her hand. Its pair remained with the fae man, because even after everything, she couldn’t help but leave behind some form of protection. A simple pickaxe wouldn’t be enough for the dangers ahead.

  She reached behind her neck and unclasped the necklace portion of her outfit before unfastening several buttons. Her dress fell to the floor, leaving her in only her undergarments.

  The birthmark beside her bellybutton stared back at her.

  “How did you know?” she murmured, running a finger over the small mark.

  His revelation couldn’t possibly be true. She was Skaja. Nothing more.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she turned her gaze toward the window, watching as a torch flickered in the distance at the sentry tower. She couldn’t handle the idea that her entire life may have been a lie. It was easier to believe the lie than handle what may be the truth.

  So, she climbed into the bed, tucked her wings close to her body, and allowed the confusion of the past few days to melt away like ice beneath the fire’s glow. The truth could stay buried. She didn’t want to dig it up.

  “I am a valkyrie,” she whispered in the darkness. But her wings contradicted her as they ruffled with uncertainty. A part of her wasn’t sure what being a valkyrie meant anymore.

  ****

  Skaja rose early, intent to start the day with as little distraction as possible. She bathed, dressed in clean clothing, donned her weapons, and just as the sun lifted into the sky, stretching its arms to welcome a new day, she jumped off her balcony and reveled in the feel of the wind against her face.

  The ground came at her fast, but before she met it with a harsh impact, she spread her wings and swooped low over a field of wildflowers. The crisp, morning breeze sifted through her feathers and playfully tugged at her hair. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she glided over the river.

  Her reflection followed her path through the air, and when she lightly touched the water directly beneath her, her image distorted on its surface.

  Griffins flew above her with valkyries on their backs. They commanded the skies with ease, and she couldn’t help but join them in their flight. Freedom touched the tips of her wings, wiping away all traces of lingering uncertainty from the past few days. She was a valkyrie. In heart, mind, body, and soul. They lived for freedom. They valued and celebrated women of all walks of life.

  A burst of joy shot through her. A smile spread across her face, and she spun several times through the air. All her worries disappeared like the gray clouds after a rainstorm.

  “There you are!” Inari called out, startling her out of her carefree flight. Moments later, her friend glided beside her on a griffin, wings almost touching. “I thought I would have to patrol without you.”

  Inari gave her a knowing look, which she batted away with a roll of her eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

  “Liar. You always disappear. I ought to nail your wings to the ground.”

  “Touch my wings and die.”

  With a smirk, Inari spurred her griffin ahead, and she followed. The sun crested above the distant mountains as they made their rounds from the south end of the island, all the way to the north. The island wasn’t large, taking less than an hour to circle it in the skies. They dipped lower to patrol the rocky cliffs, and later the forests.

  As always, the patrol proved futile. Anyone stupid enough to pay a visit to the valkyrie stronghold, if not a woman, would lose their life faster than they could blink.

  “Where do you go when you disappear?” Inari asked with a smirk and a side glance. The wind swept her black locks over her mischievous eyes. “Taken an interest in some of the nearby village boys lately?”

  “No!” she gasped. Heat climbed her neck and scorched her cheeks, only to grow hotter when her friend burst into laughter. “I’ve never been there before.”

  Inari’s laughter died down, but her grin remained as they continued flying over the forest. “You’re great at killing men, but nothing more. I bet you have never spoken to one.”

  Her blush refused to disperse as she recalled the fae man’s face. What would Inari do if she told her the truth about where she’d spent the last couple of days?

  She couldn’t risk the information reaching Paula, so she said nothing.

  “Look over there,” Skaja said suddenly when a silver glint caught her eye for a mere second. They circled around, searching the boughs below until they caught sight of the glint again.

  Danger pricked the back of her neck, and instinctively, she reached for the daggers at her shoulders. However, her fingers clasped around only one. She held it tight in her hand, her gaze scanning the trees.

  The two of them landed on soft forest earth. A stream trickled nearby. The wind howled as it weaved through the foliage. But birds and other forest critters alike remained silent. The back of her neck pricked again as she turned in a full circle. No sign of anything suspicious, but she trusted her gut. It had never failed her.

  Inari inhaled deeply. Her long, curved ears twitched as if listening closely to the area around them. She dropped to one knee and placed a hand against the earth, her listening ears still twitching.

  As a Forest Fae, she possessed an uncanny connection to the forest.

  “Something’s not right,” Inari frowned, standing. “The forest isn’t happy.”

  “What is—”

  A battle cry from behind interrupted her sentence, followed by the tromping of feet and singing weapons.

  Skaja reacted on instinct as she snapped her dagger open and spun around. A grunt escaped her as she blocked a sword, surprised by the sheer strength behind the attack. She kicked the attacker in the stomach. When he stumbled backward, she sliced the man across the gut and ducked to dodge the swing of another sword. She stabbed her dagger into the man’s chest and spun around again, her senses now on high alert.

  But all was still.

  The final attacker lay on the ground, bleeding from a wound Inari had dealt.

  She breathed heavily, her eyes wide as her gaze darted back and forth to each of the three dead men.

  “Are there anymore?” she gasped, briefly glancing her friend’s way.

  Inari’s grip remained tight on her staff as her ears twitched, but finally, she shook her head. “The forest is appeased.” She nudged one of the bodies with the end of her staff, more specifically, the man’s ears. “Bloody crows. Look at this.”

  Skaja stepped over several small puddles of river water mixed with blood and stood next to her friend. The man’s ears were long and flat against his head. “He’s from the Sun Kingdom.”

  With a nod, Inari checked the other two lying lifeless on the ground. Sure enough, each of them had similar ears. “Any idea why they’re here? I don’t know anyone foolish enough to come to our island, especially as a small group of three.”

  “Me neither,” she murmured. She knelt and checked each of their pockets, only to come up empty. A glint caught her eye, and she turned one of the men’s hands over to reveal a gold ring with the sun star emblem sitting on his pinky.

  Her heart shot to her throat, and she nearly dropped the hand in her shock. “These aren’t any regular Heulwen men. These are royal guards.”

  Inari swore under her breath and kicked one of the dead men in the ribs. As if unsatisfied that he didn’t grunt, she kicked him again.
r />   “How did we gain the attention of the Sun King?” Skaja asked as she placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the surrounding area. But no other men rushed out of the trees. They were alone. “You don’t think it was the attack on the Pits, do you? The ravine isn’t even in his kingdom.”

  Her friend ran both hands through her hair. “Good question.”

  She stooped once more, slid the ring off the man, and closed her fingers around it. “This one is mine.”

  “Really?” Inari raised both eyebrows high. “But you don’t take trophies.”

  “No, but I want this.” The symbol resembled the tattoo of the fae man from the Sun Kingdom, the ring a reminder of him. Her heart wasn’t keen on letting him go completely. She could almost see his face inside the sun star.

  “We’ll take another to show Paula.” Inari secured her own ring as well. “She should know what happened here.”

  They both took to the skies, and as they made their way across the expanse of blue, she gazed down at the ring in her hand. She twisted the piece of jewelry every which way to inspect the symbol before sliding it onto her middle finger. A part of her worried the attack might be a message. Whatever followed couldn’t possibly be good.

  Something poked Calle in the shoulder. He groaned and attempted to bat it away, but then it poked him again. He opened his eyes but squinted against the blinding backdrop of the afternoon sun.

  When the object poked him once more, followed by a chorus of laughter, his eyes shot open. A man stood over him, holding a stick.

  He scrambled backward to more guffawing, only for his back to scrape against a boulder. He hissed through his teeth but fought through the blinding pain for one of his weapons. His fingers clasped around his pickaxe.

  “Whoa there,” another man said, and Calle blinked his eyes into focus. Three men stood within several yards of him, and on the road...

  Emotion clogged his throat at the sight of a wagon pulled by an aged horse. Eight children and a couple of pregnant women sat squished inside, with several other men and women standing close. They appeared dirty, tired, and hungry. His breath caught at the sight of their ears. Long and flat. One of the women proudly displayed the sun star tattooed on her forehead in a beautiful bronze color by wearing her hair back.

  Gold. Silver. Bronze. They were all revered colors in his culture.

  “We apologize,” the man spoke again with his hands held up placatingly, pulling his attention away from the wagon. “We thought you were like us. Someone escaping Heulwen.”

  “Escaping?” he rasped, his eyes wide. “But Heulwen is a safe place to live.”

  The men exchanged glances. “Have you been hiding under a rock?”

  “Between two rocks, actually. What’s happening in Heulwen? Why are you fleeing?”

  One of the men gestured to the others in the wagon and lowered his voice. “We grow crops. When Liam’s army takes most of our food, we are losing profits, we can’t feed our families, and we can’t afford the high tax. It’s either flee or watch as my family hangs by a noose.”

  Bile churned in Calle’s stomach as he peered closer at the women and children. They were bone thin. What else had happened in Heulwen in his absence?

  Stepping closer, the man peered at him. His fingers tightened around the handle of the pickaxe. He didn’t know who he could trust anymore.

  “I’ve seen you before,” the man said slowly as his gaze traveled from his hair, to his ears, and then lingered on his eyes. You look like...” He shook his head and exhaled. “Never mind. Where are you headed?”

  Realizing he still sat on the ground, he cautiously climbed to his feet, not taking his eyes off any of the strangers. Prince Calle was supposed to be dead, so even if they noticed similarities between him and his past self, they likely wouldn’t come to the correct conclusion.

  His gaze briefly roamed the area around him, and a part of his spirit fell with disappointment when he didn’t spot Skaja. She’d really left...

  It was a good thing, though. She likely would have either killed all these men or melted with discomfort.

  With caution in mind, he answered, “I’m headed to see a friend.”

  The man nodded toward his group. “Need companions? We always have room for one more.” He eyed the pickaxe in his hand, and then Skaja’s dagger several feet away.

  Calle wasn’t sure if the other man wanted the weapons or extra protection. Guilt ate at him as he shook his head. He couldn’t help anyone until he helped himself. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much protection he could give in his state. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m headed in another direction. I wish you safe travels.”

  They spoke their farewells, and despite the hunger pains in his belly and the fatigue resting on his shoulders, he made haste down the road. Something was happening in Heulwen, and he needed to know what.

  He stopped for a quick meal consisting of the bread and dried meat from his pack before continuing on. He lightly gripped Skaja’s stone in his injured hand, wincing at the pain shooting up his arm. He didn’t dare squeeze, fearing the accompanying pain.

  Little by little, shadows grew in the forest. The trees seemed to stretch longer and wider. The forest floor threatened to swallow him whole.

  Something screeched above him, and he cried out in alarm as he spun around.

  Only to face darkness.

  Shadows slithered across damp earth like a living, breathing thing. They crawled and reached and clawed, obscuring the path behind him. A chill raked its long claws across the skies as if shredding the sunlight canvas to reveal the inky black sky resting behind it. Shivers danced along his skin as if he once again found himself in the freezing Pits.

  His heart pounded against his ribcage as if begging for release from its terrified prison. A lump of fear lodged in his throat, and he turned slowly in a full circle as he attempted to find the way forward.

  In only a few moments, he managed to find himself lost in the vast forest, with nothing to act as his guide.

  He tipped his head back to stare at the boughs above, but all signs of daylight had long since disappeared. The only person who he could call on for help was likely far, far away.

  A wave of dread crashed into him when he brought his attention back to the creeping shadows...

  ...and the red eyes blinking in the darkness.

  Calle’s pulse raced as he snatched the pickaxe from his belt and waved it menacingly in front of him in an attempt to ward off the threat. However, three chupacabras edged forward, lips drawn back in a snarl to show sharp, yellow fangs. The blood-sucking canines growled while staring him down with unblinking eyes.

  Skaja, I hate you for being right.

  Sweat licked his brow as his gaze darted from one beast to the next. He would sooner collapse from exhaustion than outrun them. Taming them into submission might have been possible if he’d had his magic and his friend Joel’s gift with animals. But he had neither. Fighting was the only option.

  Without warning, the first one jumped at him. He dodged to the side while at the same time striking downward with his pickaxe. His reflexes were much too slow to keep the sharp claws from raking across his arm, and he yelped at the same time the beast did.

  He yanked the pickaxe out of the injured chupacabra as the next one attacked. The swing missed, and the momentum spun him to face the opposite direction. Something sharp dug into the back of his leg. He released a scream of agony as the beast began sucking large mouthfuls of his blood.

  He twisted and used the momentum to drive the pickaxe into its ribs. The beast yelped, but it only latched on tighter to his leg. No matter how hard he attempted to yank his weapon out, it remained stuck.

  Another growl announced the third chupacabra, and even through the blinding agony in his leg, he reached for Skaja’s dagger and snapped it open as the beast pounced. He embedded the blade into its neck, severing the tendon and killing it instantly. Its body fell to the ground in an unmoving heap.

  The only living chupacabra released its hold on his leg and pounced, knocking him flat on his back. Snarling teeth snapped in his face, and he only barely managed to keep it from tearing him apart.

  Strength faded quickly, and every few seconds spent holding the beast at bay was another inch it gained.