Blackveil

by Kristen Britain

“Hello.”

  Alton jumped, heart pounding. Standing there in the chamber with him just a few paces away was not Merdigen or any of the other tower mages, not even Dale. No, it was Estral Andovian clutching a blanket.

  ESTRAL’S HARMONY

  “What?” Alton rubbed his eyes as if confronted with a specter.

  “Hello,” Estral repeated. “And I thought I was the one hard of hearing.” She gave him that wry smile of hers, but it was not as confident as usual. It was questioning, as if she was uncertain of her reception.

  “How?” he demanded. “How did you get in here?”

  “I sang to the guardians. They liked it and let me through.”

  She’d said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Alton felt off-kilter and grabbed the mantel to steady himself. “You . . . you sang to the guardians? And they let you through?”

  Her smile faded. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

  “No! No . . .” He laughed. “You were right yesterday.”

  “I was? About what?” Now she gazed at him with a suspicious glint in her eye.

  “About music being magical. But I expect not everyone can make it magical. Not the way you can.”

  The smile returned to Estral’s lips.

  Alton smiled back. “What made you try?”

  “My music helped you and Dale enter Tower of the Earth, so I thought I’d try it here on Tower of the Heavens for myself.” She gazed about the tower chamber. “I must admit, I was curious.”

  Alton was vaguely disappointed by the answer. “You brought a blanket.”

  “I thought you might need it, but I see you have a fire going.”

  “Yes, but a blanket is most welcome. Thank you.”

  She passed it to him and backed away. “I guess I should go now.”

  “No, wait! I mean, you said you were curious. Wouldn’t you at least like a tour of the tower? What’s left of it anyway.” He glanced upward where he could see the stars through the hole in the roof.

  “Yes, I’d like that.”

  He led her around the circumference of the tower, showing her the sink that magically flowed with water when you waved your hand under a bronze fish’s mouth. He took her beneath the east archway that ended a short distance away at a solid rock wall. The wall. Around they went, stepping over rubble, he explaining how the wall almost went mad and collapsed, taking the tower and Dale and himself with it.

  “They lost harmony, the guardians,” he said. “They are strong when they sing as one, but when they lost harmony and rhythm everything almost came to ruin.”

  “Further evidence,” Estral said, “of the magic of music.” They exchanged smiles.

  “I’ve saved the best for last,” Alton said, taking her hand. He found it strong and limber. His own hands were bulky with muscles from stonework, huge and powerful, like a draft horse. Estral’s were more like a champion racehorse or a hunter in top condition, all lean, smooth, muscle. He realized it must be from lute playing, all those hours and hours of practice and performance. He thought of those hands on him, “playing” him, and he trembled.

  He tugged on her hand to cover it up. “C’mon. See what you think.”

  He led her to the circle of columns in the center of the chamber. There was the one that lay broken in sections across the floor and he was reminded of Tower of the Earth, the skeleton on the floor reaching.

  “What’s that?” Estral asked, pointing at the pedestal in the middle of the circle. On top of it the lump of tourmaline gave off a faint green glow.

  Alton pushed the image of the skeleton from his mind. “It’s called the tempes stone. First time I touched it, it awoke Merdigen. I think it somehow aids his ability to exist.”

  “I’d love to meet him,” Estral said.

  “You will, but he’s away at the moment.”

  “Away? How can he ... ?”

  Alton shrugged. “He’s off meeting with the other tower mages. The ones east of the breach, anyway.”

  “Right,” Estral said.

  “Now let’s take a step through the columns, shall we? Be warned you may find it disconcerting.”

  She raised that skeptical eyebrow at him, but when they stepped through and the tower disappeared and they stood upon an impossible expanse of grasslands illuminated only by stars and moon, she loosed a squeal of surprise.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “If you step back through the columns you’ll be back in the tower.”

  The tower may have vanished, but the columns, tempes stone and pedestal, and east and west arches remained visible, like the ruins of some ancient civilization. Reluctantly he released Estral’s hand so she could investigate. She stepped back and forth between the columns testing the effect, then walked the circle weaving between the columns. Eventually she came to stand beside him again.

  “Incredible,” she said.

  He could hear the awe in her voice and was pleased.

  “Where is this?” she asked. “Is it real?”

  “Hard to say exactly,” Alton said. He’d asked Merdigen once about the reality of it, and Merdigen had shot back with his usual, “Are you real, boy?”

  “This landscape seems to be aligned with our season and time of day, for what it’s worth. I’ve been in Itharos’ tower, and his landscape is arctic, like the great ice fields to the north. Its time of day is opposite ours, from what I can tell.”

  Estral shivered beside him. “It’s cold enough here. The air is crisp, and though the breeze is out of the northwest, I can smell the ground thawing like spring is not far off. It’s so very real.” As if to augment her words, coyotes bayed in the distance.

  Alton had held onto the blanket and now he placed it over both their shoulders and boldly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. It was very warming. She did not object and when she gazed at him, it was not with trepidation, but more assessing. She did not protest on Karigan’s behalf, did not mention Karigan at all. Interesting. He was pleased.

  “The stars are incredible here,” he said. “No trees to block them. The Sword of Sevelon is almost in its upraised position.”

  But Estral did not look at the stars. Her gaze lingered on him, still assessing.

  “Is ... is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just thinking I’m glad I came here.”

  “And I’m glad I came to my senses and didn’t let you leave.”

  “Like you had any say in the matter.” She subtly shifted her weight so she leaned into him. Alton’s heart fluttered.

  He turned so they faced one another, and when he kissed her, their bodies melding into one, the music that was Estral Andovian filled him with the harmony that had been absent from his life for too long.

  ARRIVAL

  The journey to the wall, Karigan thought, would not have been bearable without her fellow Riders along. The two soldiers who were part of the expedition, Lieutenant Grant and Private Porter, kept to themselves despite friendly overtures from the Riders to sit by their fire in the evenings.

  The members of the light cavalry also kept separate, sipping their brandy at the end of the day while the lowest ranked man among them tended to the camp work and saw to their comforts more as a servant than a fellow man-at-arms. Karigan, accustomed to the Rider way of things where everyone carried their own weight, thought it a strange way to instill camaraderie, but the light cavalry was composed mainly of those of noble lineage who expected not to serve, but to be served.

  The forester, Ard Ardmont, did join them at the fire, laughing at their jokes, telling his own stories of hunting mishaps and of life in the woods of Coutre Province. He seemed an easygoing, genial fellow, and was a fine addition to their lively group.

  At night when all had quieted and Karigan lay wrapped up in her bedroll by the fire, she gazed at the stars, too preoccupied to sleep. Naturally she worried about Blackveil and what awaited them there, and about the Eletians and how they would regard her participation in
the expedition.

  Yet overriding those serious concerns was her memory of King Zachary on the steps of the castle as she departed; a memory of words she wasn’t quite sure she heard. Come back. To me. A mix of yearning and anger broiled within her. It was not the first time, she was startled to realize, he’d spoken those words to her. She reached back through memory, well back, to the night of the coup attempt when King Zachary’s brother had taken over the castle. Karigan had volunteered to spy out what was happening inside. Her fading ability made her a perfect choice for such a reconnaissance mission.

  The king had protested her further involvement, wanted to protect her, but he eventually relented, knowing she was right, that she must be the one to go. Before she departed, he’d told her to come back. To him. She’d seen many things in his eyes at that moment, much that went unspoken—the words had been unnecessary—and she ran from him. Kept running from him and their dangerous feelings for one another.

  It was, she discovered, hopeless to run because she’d already succumbed to the feelings. To him. A breeze cooled the tears on her cheeks; the stars blurred overhead.

  Her father once said that merchandise forbidden to a potential buyer because of price often made it all the more desirable. He used this insight to his advantage in marketing goods, occasionally inflating the price of some of his wares to make them seem more attractive. More often than not, a once overlooked bolt of cloth initiated bidding wars by those who had come to covet it.

  In some sense, this might apply to Karigan’s situation with King Zachary, but if it had just been about desire of the forbidden, she would have tired of it long ago, forgetting about him as anything other than her sovereign. There was more to it all, something more enduring. Try as she might, she could not forget him. He came to her in her dreams. When awake, she often imagined his intimate touch on her skin. It did not help that he kept telling her to come back to him when they both knew he was committed to Lady Estora.

  She rolled over on the hard ground and gazed into the embers of the fire. If she could not forget him, she could at least attempt to move on by focusing her attention elsewhere. She needed to put the king behind her once and for all, and she found herself thinking about Alton. He seemed to want to resume a relationship beyond friendship. What would happen if she opened herself up to that? She had not seen him in almost a year and maybe seeing him now would awaken dormant feelings within her.

  Or, she thought as she drifted into sleep, she could just give up. What did her inner turmoil matter when so much was at stake in the world? It was hard, though, sometimes not to feel so very alone.

  During the next day’s leg of the journey, Garth rode beside her. She was happy to have him among the Riders. He was one of her closer friends, a big bear of a fellow whose hugs she could count on to dispel any sorrow. When the company slowed to a walk to rest the horses, Karigan gazed off into the woods only to have her attention drawn back by an ahem from Garth.

  “Yes?”

  “I was wondering,” he said, “what you’re thinking. I’ve heard maybe two words from you this entire journey.”

  Karigan shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about Blackveil is all.” She would have liked nothing more than to confess all that was in her heart, but she could never say anything about the king, for her Rider friends were bound to his service, too close. She had no wish to become the source of gossip either, which was inevitable in such a tight-knit group. She had revealed herself to only one other person, her best friend, Estral. In fact, Estral had been sensitive enough to Karigan’s emotions that she guessed on her own.

  It had been an immense relief for Karigan to speak of it to someone, but now Estral was far away in Selium and Karigan had to carry her burden alone.

  “Well, I should think you’ll be happy to see Alton, finally,” Garth said.

  “I will be. I am.” In contrast to all she held secret about the king, her relationship with Alton and its troubles were well known to her friends.

  “Hmm,” Garth rumbled. “Then why do you look more ready for a funeral than a reunion?”

  “Because my true love is already spoken for.”

  “Oh?” Garth’s eyes popped wide open. “Your true love? And who might that be?”

  “Why you, you big lunk.” She reached over and poked his meaty arm.

  Garth’s mouth fluttered into an uncertain smile, and when the joke set in, he let out a great guffaw that echoed into the woods. “Best not let Tegan know,” he told her between laughs.

  “It’ll be our secret,” Karigan replied. Alas, he did not know she’d only told the truth about her true love being spoken for, if not who. In any case, the joke served to deflect further questioning, and the company moved back into a trot, making any kind of deeper conversation difficult.

  They made good enough progress so that by the next afternoon, Garth was sent ahead to inform the wall encampment of the company’s impending arrival. The closer they came to the wall, the more apprehension gripped Karigan, as she remembered the last time she was here and imagined what was to come. The feeling only deepened as she glimpsed the wall through the leafless branches of the woods. A hush descended over the company. Most of them had not been to the wall before. They would not forget it very soon.

  When finally they broke out of the woods into the main encampment, she observed her companions’ faces turned upward to take in the wall’s infinite ascent into the heavens and heard their murmurs of dismay at the violent appearance of the breach above the repairwork, like some chunk of flesh ripped out by a giant claw.

  The encampment itself had changed since Karigan was last here, with the construction of a neat row of snug cabins, long low barracks, and fenced corrals for horses and livestock.

  Soldiers, both D’Yerian and Sacoridian, lined up at attention to greet them. Next to one of the officers was a flash of green—Dale! Karigan grinned. She wanted to jump right off Condor’s back and run to the friend she had not seen since last summer, but military decorum being what it was, she had to wait while Lieutenant Grant, Lynx, and Captain Garfield of the light cavalry presented themselves to the commander of the encampment. Karigan looked for Alton, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Finally, with the formalities concluded, the company dismounted and all the Green Riders converged on Dale for greetings and hugs.

  “Hello, hello. Ouch! Watch my shoulder!”

  When it was Karigan’s turn to hug her friend, she did so gingerly.

  “Your shoulder,” Karigan said. “Still ...”

  When last they’d stood together before the breach, a terrible, huge avian creature had attacked the Riders and grasped Dale in one of its talons, nearly carrying her off. It had succeeded in giving her a ghastly wound, preventing her from making the journey back to Sacor City.

  “No,” Dale replied. “That’s pretty much healed. “This is, er, something else. Long story.”

  Trace Burns then introduced Fergal, Sandy, Oliver, and Fern, who, being relatively recent additions to the messenger service had never met Dale.

  “Green Greenies, eh?” Dale said.

  “Not nearly,” Fergal replied with a sniff. “I helped rescue Lady Estora.”

  “Ah, so you’re the one,” Dale replied with a grin and a wink to Karigan.

  “Those of us not going over into Blackveil are here to assist Alton with the wall,” Trace said.

  “That’s what the orders Garth carried from the captain told us,” Dale replied. “Lynx, Karigan, and Yates are going into the forest and the rest of you belong to us.”

  “Where is Alton?” Karigan asked. Another glance around the encampment did not reveal his presence.

  “Down by Tower of the Heavens. He’s expecting you. All of you.” Dale spoke directly to Karigan, and Karigan wondered if there was something pointed in Dale’s statement, a warning of some kind? And if so, why?

  Dale retrieved her horse to lead them to Alton, but Plover was so excited to see her fellow messenger horses that she whee
led and pranced and tossed her head, and made it very difficult for her Rider to mount. “Be still, you silly mare!” Dale cried in exasperation. Plover paused long enough for Dale to get her toe in the stirrup, but she was barely in the saddle when the mare continued to carry on with her high spirits, hopping and bucking and snorting. Her antics vexed Dale, but amused everyone else.

  As they rode alongside the wall toward the secondary encampment, Karigan found herself nervous, pushing back a loose strand of hair and wishing she could at least scrub off some of the travel dirt before seeing Alton. She laughed at herself. He’d seen her in far worse straits before, hadn’t he? She wondered how he was looking these days.

  Ard suddenly cantered up from behind and hauled his horse to a walk alongside her. “You left without me,” he said a little breathlessly. “And I’d rather not be left back there with those others. Green Riders make better company.”

  Karigan did not disagree.

  “This is some edifice, isn’t it?” he said in a low, awed voice, sweeping his arm toward the wall. “Like the gods made it.”

  Karigan often thought of it the same way. “But it wasn’t. It was made by people like us.”

  “And magic,” Ard muttered.

  “Yes, and magic.”

  The secondary encampment resembled a small tent village. It appeared no cabins had yet been constructed here, which must have made for a miserable winter, more so than what Alton had described in his last letter. The encampment’s inhabitants came forward to greet the Riders, mainly soldiers and some laborers. Karigan’s gaze pinpointed Alton immediately as he strode forward with Garth beside him

  He looked leaner, more broad shouldered than she remembered, his hair longer and wilder. It seemed to Karigan that his experiences in Blackveil and at the wall were chiseled into his face so that there was little of the softness of youth left there, making his features all the more intriguing. She couldn’t help but grin at him. He smiled tentatively in return.

  Then she noticed someone else with him. “Estral?”