Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) by Steven Kelliher Read Free Book Online Page B

moments than in all the quiet ones in between, the cold efficiency of her work painting a stark contrast to the firestorm that consumed him when his blades were lit. There was a trust at the center of it—a trust she was betraying now.
    But she had to protect him. She had to protect Iyana. She would protect them all, Landkist or not.
    Linn thought of the difference between secrets and lies as she came to a green door and rapped.

W hile the homes near the wall were newer, built primarily of wood and thatch, the structures further down the slope took on a more permanent shape. The cobbled streets were overgrown with moss and weeds, wending their way through the market and around the wells before giving way to the gravel where the fishermen kept their cabins.
    Although many of these hovels were ramshackle in appearance, they were the oldest at the Lake, having been put up before there was even a true settlement along its banks. Back then, there had been no need for walls; in fact, it was the very decision by the Merchant Council of Hearth to build their own gaudy white barriers that prompted the Emberfolk to fracture, with a great number coming south to the salt and spurs. The strategic advantages provided by the land around Last Lake were more of a happy accident than any genius in engineering. The settlement was protected on three sides by water and rock, and on the fourth by a thick timber wall manned by some of the stoutest warriors in the Valley.
    Ninyeva considered how all she now saw before her would have been swept away long ago if not for those warriors—if not for Tu’Ren and his Embers, Landkist much more useful than she.
    She rapped gnarled knuckles on the mahogany rail of her leaning tower, looking out over the docks below, the Long Hall a stone’s throw away. These had been her chambers for as long as she had made the Lake her home, which was near as long as any save for Doh’Rah, the man that had convinced her to come in the first place.
    What if she had stayed out among the Faey? What more could she have learned from the other Landkist blessed as she was blessed?
    But her people had needed her, she supposed. Or thought they needed her, which was as near a thing. Ninyeva was the oldest of the Emberfolk in the Valley and the first to be Landkist by it. To the young and leaderless, this made her wise. For a long time, she felt wise, when the killing and dying had been done on human terms—meaningless conflicts between the three tribes of the Valley. Quelling those conflicts took doing. For Ninyeva, it was all a matter of listening and getting the right ears to listen back.
    The Dark Kind had no ears for mercy and no hearts for forgiveness. There was no wisdom could stop a thing like them. They were as inevitable as the Dark Months themselves. The Valley had made her people soft. Try as she might, she could not remember the sting of the sand in her eyes or the sun on her back.
    Of course, it was the young and leaderless that guarded them now. They were made of stronger stuff than any that had entered the Valley in the legendary caravan of which Ninyeva was a part. But it was not enough to stop the inevitable.
    There was a chill in the room, and if there was one in the Valley who dealt with chills even worse than she, it was Doh’Rah. Ninyeva sighed and turned away from the railing, moving to the threaded carpet in the center. She lifted the blackened grate and slid another stack of scented oak into the sloped pit beneath it, fanning the eager flames back to life. Her thoughts continued to tumble around as she waited—thoughts and their cousin doubts.
    Doh’Rah would have news from Hearth and the Scattered Villages. He might even have word from the Rivermen at the Fork. He was well known and respected, if not entirely liked. Ninyeva held the hearts of the Emberfolk of the Lake, but he held their minds.
    In the distant past, Ninyeva might have been anxious at his approach. In the not-so-distant past, she would