PFS2012 Author Guest Post: Cayla Kluver

One of most awesome author peeps I know is Cayla Kluver, author of a super addictive fantasy trilogy which begins with the first book LEGACY. Cayla knows how much I absolutely adore Steldor, who, London and Cannan aside, is my favorite character in the series, and so Cayla's included a deleted prequel scene that gives some back story to Steldor's character and shows more of his relationship with his father, Cannan. What's even more exciting is that this is the first time Cayla is introducing one of these back stories, so I feel very honored to feature one with an eight-year-old Steldor for you guys today!

“Steldor’s in the river!”

I heard Galen’s call, and was somehow reacting before full comprehension dawned. I was on my feet in an instant, yelling for rope and a horse, while Baelic was a beat ahead of me, getting the things we’d need even as I asked. It seemed everyone at the picnic had heard Miccard’s boy, and other men rushed with us in the direction of the children, who had not been given permission to play along the banks. Of course it would be my son who fell in. It had probably been at his encouragement that the other boys had ignored their fathers’ instructions. It only made sense that Steldor would fall in.

Galen, in a panic, pointed him out to me, a ways downstream, clinging desperately to a log that jutted forth from the bottom and defied the tug of the current. I snapped for Galen to get away from the edge while other parents did the same for their sons, then Baelic and I and a few others were running through the lush spring trees and brush, trying to get to Steldor before he gave in.

I wasn’t allowing myself to feel; I couldn’t. The moment I let fear seize me, it would be over; the reality that if I didn’t move fast enough, if I were a second too late, my boy would drown, cold and alone, was impossible to face while staying in control. So I didn’t think further ahead than each footfall, and when I was close enough, I tied a rope around my waist, tossing the other end to Baelic to tie to the horse’s saddle, and plunged into the freezing, powerful water without hesitation.

I called my son’s name, and his dazed eyes found me; he was slipping, but he’d heard.

“Hang on, Steldor,” I was telling him. “Don’t let go, I’m almost there, just hang on a little bit longer, boy.”

His blue-tinted lips formed a word — Papa — but I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the river. He was struggling to do as I asked, but the cold was assailing his consciousness, pushing him under, and the water beating against him would have easily defeated a fully grown man given time. My presence reassured him, too much. His grip faltered at last, as he seemed to decide he was safe with me so close; so close, but not close enough.

He went under, and I followed at once, the panic harder and harder to repress as my eyes searched futilely for him in the bubbling torrent. I let the river carry me down, then at last I spotted him, and by some miracle my arms wrapped about him just as my lungs began to scream for air. I slammed my feet against the river bottom, struggling to kick up to the surface, not for myself, but for the unmoving eight-year-old I held tight. Then I felt the rope around my torso dragging me back. Baelic. He had no way of knowing I’d gotten Steldor, but he did know that much longer and I would be dead along with my son. If the boy had not been against me, I would probably never have forgiven him.

We broke surface in no time, and as I gulped air, I saw that Baelic had one of the other men leading the horse that was pulling us out, while my brother watched for us.

“Baelic!” I yelled when I was sure he would hear me, and his eyes snapped to my form. He was at the edge the moment he realized Steldor was with me, ready to take the boy to shore, and I handed my son to him as soon as we were close enough. Baelic hauled the unconscious child onto the bank, listening for breath as I heaved myself out after them, abandoning the rope.

I watched, chest rising and falling heavily as Baelic rolled Steldor onto his side and pounded his back repeatedly, the boy’s dark hair plastered to his forehead, his skin colored by the chill. Nothing was happening, and against my will, nausea began to creep through my stomach. He was so young, so small, he was everything I had.

“Come on, damn it,” I muttered. “Breathe, God damn it.”

Baelic kept on longer than he should have, sensing my nearness, and just as unwilling as I to let the boy go. He hit harder, then harder, then harder as his desperation grew.

“God damn it!” I yelled, at last letting go of some of my composure and falling to my knees beside my brother.

As though my shout had jarred him, Steldor coughed, water spilling from his mouth, and sucked in a ragged breath.-

“Steldor,” I said, the relief overpowering as I supported him on his hands and knees so he would not choke as he continued to cough. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” I went on, speaking equally to him and to myself. He was shaking — cold, wet, and terrified — and as soon as most of the water was out of his lungs, I stood, scooping him up. It had been some time since I’d carried him, but he did not resist, instead wrapping his arms around my neck as he again slipped out of awareness.

I needed to warm him up before the cold took him from me as the water had tried to do. Baelic came with me back to the house, keeping concerned picnickers at bay, then the two of us removed Steldor’s soaked clothing, dried him off, and dressed him warmly once more. Baelic started a fire as I laid my sleeping son out on the sofa where the heat from the flames would reach him.

I collapsed at the table with my son in full view, feeling numb from my lips to my fingertips. I had come so close to losing the only thing I really cared about. I had come that close to losing him, and myself in the process. But he was alive, and that was everything. He was alive.

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I noticed his eyes. They were blue, sharp and intense. Despite the youthful glows of his suntanned face, his eyes were cold and unfriendly, suggesting he had great experience in the world and was now expecting the worst.

In her seventeenth year, Princess Alera of Hytanica faces one duty: to marry the man who will be king. But her father's choice of suitor fills her with despair.

When the palace guard captures and intruder--a boy her age with steel-blue eyes, hailing from her kingdom's greatest enemy--Alera is alarmed… and intrigued. But she could not have guessed that their clandestine meetings would unveil the dark legacy shadowing both their lands.

In this mystical world of court conspiracies and blood magic, loyalties will be tested. Courage won't be enough. And as the battle begins for everything Alera holds dear, love may be the downfall of a kingdom.

You can find Cayla on her Goodreads | Website | Twitter | Facebook!

Make sure to stop by later today for guest posts from Maria V. Snyder and Jennifer Nielsen, as well as a pair of amazing INTL giveaways!
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I always knew Cannan loved Steldor no matter what, but this just softens my heart right down to gooey butter. This scene makes me appreciate their relationship so much more. Thank you so much, Cayla! Comment down below if you've ever come close to drowning (I have. For serious.) or if you agree that Steldor is super amazing.