Page 60 of Feral Gods
"Which means our position is compromised," Ravik concludes grimly. "We move at first light."
"Is that necessary?" I ask, reluctant to face another relocation so soon. "She could have attacked while I was alone but didn't. She delivered her message and left."
"After confirming your presence and our defensive positioning," Ravik points out. "Information that will guide the full coven's approach when they come for you."
"If they come," I counter. "She seemed more interested in persuasion than abduction."
"For now," Thane growls. "Tactics change when gentle methods fail."
The truth in his assessment is undeniable, yet something about the encounter continues to trouble me. "She knew things—about my mother, about my bloodline. Called me Kaia Flameheart, as if I have a surname I never knew."
Zephyr's expression softens with understanding. "The temptation of identity—of connection to your past—is powerful. The coven understands this, which makes their approach particularly insidious."
"Not just manipulation," I insist, needing them to understand. "She said my mother disappeared before her time with the coven. That suggests my mother was once part of the Flamekeepers but left—or was taken—before I was born."
The implications hang heavy in the confined space. If my mother was indeed a Flamekeeper who somehow ended up enslaved in the human territories where I was born, manyquestions about my past might find answers through coven knowledge.
"What's in the pouch?" Thane asks, practical as always.
Zephyr loosens the drawstring carefully, turning the pouch to spill its contents into his palm. A single item emerges—a delicate silver pendant on a fine chain, its central design matching the birthmark on my shoulder. The Flamekeeper symbol.
"May I?" I ask, oddly breathless.
Zephyr examines it briefly for magical traps before placing it gently in my outstretched hand. The metal feels unexpectedly warm against my skin, pulsing faintly with the same magenta energy I've been learning to manifest.
"It recognizes you," Zephyr observes, scholarly fascination evident in his tone. "Magical artifacts sometimes attune to bloodlines specifically."
I close my fingers around the pendant, searching for some emotional connection to the woman who might have worn it—my mother, whom I last saw being dragged away in the Liiandor slave market six years ago. No clear memories emerge, only a vague sense of familiarity, as if the pendant belongs with me despite our long separation.
"Lyra said I could use this to contact the coven when I'm ready to learn the full truth of my heritage," I explain, opening my hand to reveal the pendant once more. "That Matriarch Valeria would come herself."
"Convenient communication device," Zephyr muses, leaning closer to study the artifact. "Likely blood-keyed to respond only to Flamekeeper essence. Impressive craftsmanship."
"And dangerous," Ravik adds, his protective instincts clearly triggered by the potential magical connection to our enemies. "We should destroy it."
"No!" The objection bursts from me with surprising force. "It may have belonged to my mother. It's... it's all I have of her."
The naked emotion in my voice brings momentary silence to the chamber. All three gargoyles study me with varying expressions Ravik conflicted between tactical necessity and reluctance to cause me pain, Thane surprisingly sympathetic beneath his warrior's exterior, Zephyr thoughtfully assessing alternatives.
"Perhaps there's a compromise," Zephyr suggests after a moment. "I could examine the pendant more thoroughly, determine its exact capabilities and limitations. With proper understanding, we might neutralize its tracking or communication functions while preserving the artifact itself."
Relief washes through me at his practical solution. "You could do that?"
"With time and careful study," he confirms. "Purna artifacts operate on principles similar to other magical constructs, despite their unique approach to energy manipulation."
Ravik considers this, amber eyes moving from the pendant to my face and back again. Whatever he sees in my expression appears to influence his decision. "Very well. Zephyr will study the artifact under controlled conditions. Until we understand its capabilities fully, it remains sealed in a neptherium containment box."
The compromise satisfies both security concerns and my emotional attachment to this unexpected connection to my past. "Thank you."
"This changes nothing about our immediate situation," Ravik continues, his commanding tone returning. "Our position is compromised. We move at first light to the secondary location we scouted three days ago."
No one argues with this assessment, not even me. Whatever Lyra's personal intentions, her knowledge of our location represents genuine threat. Thane immediately begins organizing our limited possessions for rapid departure, while Zephyrconstructs a makeshift containment box for the pendant using materials from our salvaged supplies.
As preparations progress around me, I find myself drawn to the cave entrance, gazing out at the star-filled sky above Causadurn Ridge. The vastness that comforted me earlier now seems to emphasize how small our struggle remains in the grand scheme of Protheka's conflicts. Somewhere beyond these mountains, a coven of my blood-relatives seeks to reclaim me for purposes I cannot fully trust. In the opposite direction, King Kres marshals dark elf forces to capture a magical resource he never knew existed within his household.
And here I stand, caught between these powerful factions, still struggling to reconcile the slave girl I was with the purna descendant I'm becoming.
"Your thoughts are troubled."
