The Halo Of Vakh (BOOK 1)

DESPERATE TIMES

Sapphire was trying with all her might to not plunge her daggers into the guts of the man behind her. She wasn't sure she'd succeed. Ileeyan trudged along about eight feet from her, his steps light despite his size. They walked forward, Sapphire holding onto Aurora's reins, trampling the dried yellow grass beneath her boots. She did not want to exert the mare. They had been riding too long. It was nearing dusk and she wanted to cover as much distance as possible within the time. They'd be safer near the Vakhor border.

"You can't possibly be serious about going that near the border," her companion said from his place, his voice carried over to her by a light gust of wind. "It's not safe."

Sapphire screwed her eyes shut, praying for patience. The man had repeated the same sentence over and over again for the better half of the last three hours.

"I've already told you," she said through clenched teeth, "You don't have to come with me. I'm not asking you to tag along. You are doing that of your own volition."

The old man huffed and decreased the distance between them, to a few long strides. He had managed to keep up with her even when she had been riding Aurora. She concluded it had something to do with Draedech. That was another reason she wanted him gone. She was not sure if he was working for Parr.

"But the Bindyr! You have no defence against them."

"I'll manage. Leave me alone."

The man promptly ignored her for the next few hours.

They stopped once the sun had fully set and the stars had started to peep out from their dark crevices. Sapphire let Aurora roam as she started a fire, all the time glaring at Ileeyan from her place. He had set his bow down, the tassels at its end hidden between the blades of grass. She huffed in annoyance and let herself drop onto the ground, hands leaping for the pigeon she had killed. She skewered it onto the blade of Irontooth and hovered it over the fire, the fat and moisture on the meat making the fire sizzle.

She did not offer it to Ileeyan once it was cooked. She hadn't asked him to follow her and she was not going to be taking the responsibility of his well-being. He was large enough to do it himself. She glanced at him once out of the corner of her eyes and saw him reclining against a lone tree with his eyes closed. Why was he following her? She was a stranger to him, surely the concern for her safety couldn't be the only thing leading him. There had to be other motives.

She was not going to trust him. Not so soon. Saving her from the Bindyr once was not enough to gain it. It could be a ploy to get her into the King's clutches. After all, she was a VannØrn, a wanted woman. There was no safety for her in this world of hounds for her, except the embrace of her own family.

The cold fingers of the wind caressed her face and she frowned. It was summer upon them. She lifted her gaze and stared at the horizon to her east. It burnt amber in the darkness and she knew they were near. Not near enough to be safe from the King's men. It was a small flare like that of a distant fire, melting into the deep sky. She was reminded oddly of some tulips she had seen at a merchant's shop a few years back. She remembered Orion had bought them and put them in Lyra's and Joseryn's braids, much to Lyra's amusement.

But those flowers brought memories that were as gold as sunset opals. They were the moments she cherished, unlike the picture before her, that brought back painful recollections of death and destruction. It brought back the memories of the opals turning black. It tainted their sweetness with something bitter; the bitterness that came with loss. And for the first time that she had taken the decision to move to the Vakhor border, she was scared. She remembered the touch of the Vakhor on her skin. She would never forget the chill that had come with it.