Page 13 of Keldori By Daybreak

He stalked past me to continue up the path alone, leaving me to fume in the bitter wind.

My temper got the best of me, but in my defense, he absolutely deserved it.

Skalmagick heated me from the inside and burst outwards in an array of blue. Ciarán staggered backwards to avoid the attack, landing on his backside with an infuriatingly coy smile on his face.

“My grandmother is about to be buried by volcanoes, and you think I don’t understand what’s at stake?” I sent another burst of raw energy at him, but he was ready this time and cut through the attack from the ground with an orange staff.

“There she is!” he crooned. “The Saergrim we’re all supposed to fear. You have the power to wield Skal, you just need the intention.”

“Get over yourself.” I limped forward, trying not to betray how the expulsion of magick had upset my stomach. The taste of pennies danced at the back of my throat. Great. My ulcers were acting up.

“Sorry, I thought you wanted to be taught.”

“I want you to leave me—”

A distant rumble, low and deep, reverberated through the cliffside, silencing the surrounding mountains. I stared up at the looming peaks as a rippling wave coursed through the treetops, shaking them loose of their snow and leaving the forests dark. The rumbling grew louder, and my panicked confusion gave way to stark understanding when the ground disappeared from beneath my feet.

Ciarán fell on top of me, taking care to cover my head, as we rode out the earthquake in the icy dirt.

The mountains were waking up.

4. Hospitality 101

Ciarán’s chest shuddered as it pressed against my face. His ragged breaths made it difficult to feel when the earthquake finally ended, but when I realized it had passed, I shoved Ciarán off me and sat up, taking stock of the cliffside.

Other than some dislodged snow and my racing heart, everything seemed to have settled. Eerie silence hung over the cliff, as if the mountains were holding their breath. I held mine too, wondering if the earthquake was a herald for greater catastrophe, if the towering mountain peaks were about to erupt, if Gams’s warning had been too late.

“Get off the ground and get inside!” Sorcha’s squawk echoed from the hovel where she stood silhouetted in the doorway. She stepped aside to make room for Sabrina and Orla to pass, and Ciarán helped me to my feet.

“I’m okay,” I grunted, but accepted his help.

“You always are.” Ciarán half-dragged me up the path to the hovel, apologizing under his breath as we went. Our fight on the cliffside didn’t matter anymore, not if the mountains were shaking.

Sorcha glowered at us as we approached. “I’m so glad you went all the way into the woods so you could train under tree cover. Sure would be a shame to blow yourselves up on the cliffside and give away our location. In the middle of an earthquake, no less!”

I froze in the low doorway. When we’d set out to train at sunset, Sorcha, Aoife, and Fana had been the only occupants of the hideout. Now, three dozen harried, orange-eyed faces stared at Ciarán and me.

Some of them stood, still braced against the walls after the earthquake, while others were extricating themselves from beneath the heavy long table where they’d sought shelter. Each one was hauntingly familiar, resembling the faces I’d known in Keel Watch Harbor, but all slightly different.

“The kitchen.” Sorcha prodded me in the back to usher us forward. “Now.”

The faces followed me as Sorcha led the way through the crowded hall to the kitchen behind the massive hearth fire. I tried not to stare back, but could see some of them bow in my periphery when I passed.

“Where did all these people come from?” I asked under my breath.

“They’re from Darragh’s Watch,” Sorcha explained. “Ronin took the horse to warn the settlements about the eruptions. Everyone here is on their way south of the mountains.”

“Darragh’s Watch?” I asked.

“It’s the village that overlooks the Bay of Teeth and protects your grandmother.” Ciarán scanned the room with a furrowed brow. “And it’s my home.”

His brow and shoulders relaxed when a woman broke from the ranks of villagers to rush at us.

“Ciarán! Are you okay?” She pulled Ciarán into an embrace, but then her eyes met mine over his shoulder. She pushed away to bow, her long, brown braid falling forward. “My Lady.”

“Olive?” I asked. Even with glowing eyes and dark sclera, she looked so much like her Nightmare. It was easy to identify the woman I’d known to be Liam’s aunt.

Ciarán’s aunt, I reminded myself.