Trine Revelation, the Kinderra Saga by C.K. Donnelly

Author:C.K. Donnelly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kibbe Creative Media, LLC

CHAPTER 16

“I knowest that which maketh my heart tremble.”

—The Codex of Jasal the Great

The torrent of memories abruptly, painfully ended, and Mirana opened her eyes. She stood in the prime’s chambers in Deren, the one from which her mother now led Kin-Deren and her Brepaithe Toban before her. She held the back of a chair.

It was the same chamber, and yet it was not. Everything appeared newer, the tapestries shone more vibrantly, the windows not as etched. The items on her mother’s desk were different.

A tall, handsome man with fair hair and piercing silver eyes regarded her, a grim expression weighing his young face. Around his neck, he wore a simple amulet of platinum, its crystal a clear, flawless diamond.

Jasal Pinal.

She had never seen his face, but she knew intuitively it must be him. He was not alone. Others were in the room, primes, wearing the colors of their provinces.

Jasal shook his head. “I do not want the honor.”

“Jasal, Ëi cara, you are Trine. If you do not take up the mantle of Primus Magne, the Ken bastard Ilrik will overrun Kinderra.” Mirana heard herself speak with a voice that was not her own but a man’s. Panic seized her. What was happening?

She was inside the memory of the Trak-Calander prime in Jasal’s time, not merely watching it. Living it.

Jasal turned around, his indecision palpable through the Aspects. “My own province is burden enough to carry. Now you want me to be responsible for the whole of Kinderra?”

A strikingly beautiful dark-haired woman drew near to the Trine. The blue-green amulet hanging at her chest glowed faintly. Mirana knew that amulet. That amulet had saved her life against a sea monster. The woman threaded her arm through Jasal’s, her honey-colored eyes holding love and concern. Antiri. It was Antiri Amil Pinal, Jasal’s wife.

“Ëi ama, Oë Trinus. You are already responsible for Kinderra. You have been so since before you were born.”

He hung his head and said nothing for long moments. At last, he faced the group, determination now replacing doubt in his penetrating eyes. “Let it be done.”

The scene faded again before Mirana’s mind’s eye, and Jasal faded while Antiri remained. This time, grief muted the seer woman’s beauty, and her amber eyes were red-rimmed. She was dressed in black robes, a dark, translucent veil covering her head.

Antiri sat astride a horse. Two others flanked the seer on steeds, as did Mirana. Lush grass waved in the breeze around them. The hands with which Mirana held her horse’s reins were different from the previous vision. A woman’s hands. The weathered, scraped hands of a defender.

A newborn infant slept in a swaddle tied next to Antiri’s chest, a peaceful sight so incongruous in such somber company.

Antiri stroked the babe’s head, a shock of pale hair shining from the wrapping. “I was not certain any of you would come. They have already begun to paint him a coward, even a traitor. I did not know if you would believe them.”

“Jasal was our Trine. E Ëomus cara.

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