“It sounds like madness, I know,” Andar conceded. “But perhaps it has something to do with the wizard he befriended.”
“The Destroyer of Worlds,” Rianna muttered.
“Do you remember why you banished Vaaler?” Andar asked her.
“He was bringing outsiders into our land. To our capital! He violated one of our oldest laws.”
“Do you recall why he was bringing them to us? Do you remember what the messenger he sent to you said?”
So much had happened since then that it was hard for her to recall the exact details. And at the time, her mind had been consumed by her terrifying visions of the Destroyer of Worlds.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t remember.”
“Vaaler claimed the wizard—a young man named Keegan—was destined to save the mortal world. He said he was destined to stop the return of Daemron the Slayer and restore the Legacy.”
Rianna nodded; she remembered now. At the time, she’d thought he’d been corrupted by his time among the foreigners. The Danaan honored the Old Gods in their fashion, but they understood that they had passed from the mortal world centuries ago. Vaaler, however, seemed eager to embrace the Southlands’ irrational belief in prophecies and legends.
“What does this have to do with Vaaler gathering an army of peasants and farmers?” she asked.
“There are some who believe he plans to take his army to Callastan and do battle with the Pontiff’s forces there. If that is true, it could have something to do with whatever he believes Keegan’s destiny to be.”
“I am ashamed for what I did to my son,” the Queen said, speaking slowly. “And I thank you for telling me this. I am grateful to learn he is still alive even if he is still taken by this mad belief in some Southern prophecy.”
“It might not be madness after all,” Andar told her.
“Please don’t tell me you believe that my son and this wizard are destined to save the world and restore the Legacy,” she said, already exhausted by the preposterousness of their conversation.
“That is the second thing I came to tell you,” the High Sorcerer answered. “Lormilar and the other scholars have found mention of the obelisk you described. The one from your dream.
“It’s called the Keystone, and according to a passage Lormilar himself translated, that is where the Old Gods created the Legacy.”
Impossible!
“He must have made some mistake with the translation. The ancient tongues have been lost for many generations; it is easy to misinterpret them.”
“There is no mistake,” Andar told her. “The Keystone is where the Legacy was born. And the text gives the exact location of the island on which it stands.”
I saw the wizard there on the island, standing before the obelisk. Rianna’s thoughts were spinning out of control, coming at her from all directions. Does this mean Vaaler was right all along? Is this vision proof that Keegan must restore the Legacy?
“Vaaler tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen,” she muttered.
No! My visions were strongest when I still had the Ring. They showed me the wizard bathed in fire and flame, bringing devastation to our city!
“None of this makes any sense,” she said aloud. “In one vision he is the savior, but in another he is the Destroyer of Worlds?”
“That is the essence of Chaos,” Andar reminded her.
“He unleashed the dragon that nearly wiped Ferlhame off the map,” the Queen said. “What if everything he touches will turn to death and destruction? What if my dream of the obelisk was a portent of disaster?”
“Then we must warn Vaaler that he is going down the wrong path,” Andar said.
“But what if he is on the right path?” Rianna countered. “What if the wizard is meant to go to the Keystone?”
“Then we must do whatever we can to help Vaaler get him there.”
“I don’t know what to do, Andar,” Rianna confessed. “Take this to the Regent Council. Let them decide what must be done.”
“I already have. They decreed that this must be your decision, my Queen.”
“No,” she said. “What if I’m wrong? I’ve already done so much harm.”
“You have made mistakes,” Andar agreed. “And, as Queen, the consequences of your mistakes can be devastating. But you cannot hide from your responsibilities because of that.
“You must try to atone for the transgressions of your past. Your people still look to you for guidance. Even though you are scared, you must give it to them.
“Whatever you decide, the Regent Council will support you.”
Rianna didn’t say anything. She was afraid to speak, terrified that whatever came out of her mouth would be the wrong choice.
What would Vaaler do? she asked herself, and in that question she knew she had her answer.
“Each time I’ve opposed Vaaler,” she declared, “it has brought ruin upon the Danaan people. Perhaps it is time I try to help him instead.”
“Well said, my Queen,” Andar told her. “I will tell Lormilar to prepare a delegation to go meet your son.”
“No,” Rianna said, holding up her hand. “This is too important, and Lormilar has never traveled to the Southlands or the Free Cities.
“But you have. You must be the one to go to Vaaler.”
“I am the leader of the Regent Council,” Andar reminded her. “If I go, who will rule the kingdom?”
“I will,” she said, and the High Sorcerer’s face broke into a broad grin. “Tell the Regent Council their Queen has returned.”
CASSANDRA FELT GUILTY about going to see Bo-Shing behind Methodis’s back, but she needed to speak with the pirate captain alone.
Since their first and only meeting so far, the Pontiff and thousands of reinforcements had arrived to swell the numbers of the army camped outside Callastan’s walls. It wouldn’t be long before they attacked the city, and Cassandra needed to be certain Bo-Shing actually had a plan to help them escape the city.
It was dangerous wandering the streets during the day; Methodis had warned her that the Order had put out a bounty asking for any information on someone fitting her description. She kept her hood up to obscure her blond hair and white eyes, hoping not to draw unwanted attention.
It’s still dangerous, Rexol warned her. You’re carrying the Crown. What if you cross paths with one of the Inquisitors?
The wizard had a point; she knew some of Yasmin’s people had infiltrated the city and were searching for her. If she ran into them, they’d be able to sense the Crown tucked away in her backpack.
You’ll have to kill them, Rexol told her.
Cassandra had easily handled the pirate who attacked her, but she was no match for an Inquisitor. Not unless she called on the Crown’s power to aid her in the fight…and that might alert every member of the Order within the city.
And then you’ll have to kill them all! Rexol cackled.
She didn’t bother to reply but she wasn’t certain she would win such a confrontation. At least, not without putting the Crown atop her head and unleashing its full power. And after what happened last time, that was something she would only do as a last resort.
Am I doing the right thing? she wondered as she marched quickly down the twisting streets of the dock district.
It seemed as if her life had been spinning out of control ever since the night she’d freed Keegan, Jerrod, and Rexol from their cells beneath the Monastery. Her failure and weakness had set in motion a series of events that had unleashed the Minions on the mortal world and left the Monastery in ruins and Nazir dead.
Yet despite her betrayal, Nazir had given her the Crown and warned her to keep it safe.
He saw something in me. He believed this was my fate. My destiny.
But what if he was wrong? Yasmin—the new Pontiff—had declared her a heretic. As far as the Order was concerned, Cassandra was an agent of Chaos. A bringer of death and destruction and a threat to the preservation of the Legacy.
Given ho
w close the Legacy had come to falling when Rexol had temporarily seized control of her body and used the Crown, it wasn’t hard to see what they were afraid of.
The Order fears Chaos because they are ignorant of its true nature, Rexol reminded her. You’ve grown beyond their simplistic dogma. You’ve accepted your true destiny.
But had she? Rexol’s teachings had given her a much better understanding of Chaos, but it was still her vision of the Keystone on a tiny island on the edge of the world that was guiding her now.
What am I now? A fallen prophet of the Order? An apprentice to a mad wizard? What path do I walk now? And is it the right one?
For once, Rexol didn’t seem to have anything to offer to her inner debate. Not that he would have added anything constructive.
He’d just tell me to use the Crown. Embrace my power and ignore the consequences. He doesn’t care if the Legacy comes crashing down.
That was the key. At least, she hoped it was. Get to the Keystone and use the Crown to restore the Legacy. Why else would she have seen it in her visions? Whatever doubts she might have, at least this was one thing she could cling to.
She turned down the dead-end alley leading to the pirates’ lair and knocked on the barred door. The panel slid open, and the pair of eyes looking out at her opened wide in surprise.
“I need to speak with Bo-Shing,” she said.
The panel slid shut, then the door opened. Cassandra stepped inside the small room. This time there were only two men there: the large man standing guard near the door at the back leading out to the tavern, and Shoji—the pirate who had attacked her during the first meeting.
Shoji closed the door behind her and called out to the other man. “Get Bo-Shing. Tell him the client is here.”
The other man slid back the panel on the door he was guarding and whispered to someone on the other side, then snapped the panel shut again.
Reaching out with her Sight, Cassandra saw that even though it was the middle of the afternoon, the tavern was still packed with drunken customers.
“Bo-Shing is with his women,” Shoji told her, his lips stretched wide in a creepy smile. His accent was thick, and Cassandra wasn’t sure if he’d actually meant to use the plural or not, but she decided not to ask.
“Where is doctor man?” the leering pirate asked.
He was standing closer to her than she liked, but if he tried anything, she’d be ready.
“Methodis doesn’t know I’m here,” she said. “He’s busy calling in outstanding debts from some of his wealthy clients. Bo-Shing is going through money much faster than we expected.”
Shoji shrugged. “A long voyage to the Kraken’s Eye. Many supplies needed. Food is expensive.”
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a short while until a knock came at the far door. The guard peeked through the viewing panel, then opened it so Bo-Shing could enter. He was shirtless, exposing the tattoos on his chest and back, and his leather breeches weren’t tied at the top. Two other pirates—both fully dressed and armed with curved cutlasses—followed close behind him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Cassandra asked archly.
“They’ll wait,” Bo-Shing replied. “Why are you here?”
“I want to talk business.”
“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the table.
“I prefer to stand.”
The pirate shrugged and slumped down into a chair facing her.
“Tell your man to step away and stop grinning at me like a fool,” Cassandra warned, “or I’ll punch him in the throat again.”
“Shoji might like that,” Bo-Shing warned. “He pays extra to have the whores get rough with him.”
“I’m not one of your whores,” Cassandra snapped.
She turned and gave Shoji a dark stare, and his smile vanished as he backed away.
“You want to talk business,” Bo-Shing said, “then talk.”
“The Pontiff has arrived with reinforcements. I need to know you’ll be ready if she attacks the city.”
“Word is out,” the pirate said, waving his hand dismissively. “Her soldiers need time to recover from their march. The attack is still three days away.”
“I want to know the plan,” Cassandra said.
“We’ve been sneaking to the docks and slowly loading supplies at night,” Bo-Shing told her.
“The Pontiff will have Inquisitors watching the docks,” Cassandra warned him.
“We’ve seen them. And they’ve seen us. We’ve made sure they take a special interest in what we’re doing.”
“It’s a decoy,” Cassandra said. “That’s why you need so many supplies. You’re stocking two ships!”
“Very good,” Bo-Shing said. “But the second batch of supplies is actually being loaded into a wagon in a warehouse a few blocks away from the docks.
“We know when the Pontiff is planning her attack. Once the battle begins, people are going to try to flee the city by the hundreds. It will be impossible for the Inquisitors to stop every ship heading out to sea. They’ll need to focus on a few—like the decoy we’ve set up.
“We all meet at the warehouse, and while they’re chasing after the other ship, we roll the supply wagons onto The Chaos Runner and cast off.”
“Why are you so certain they’ll stay focused on the wrong ship?” Cassandra asked.
“The Chaos Runner isn’t just fast; she tends to go unnoticed while she’s in port,” he bragged. “Another of her special talents. Plus I’m doing everything I can to draw attention to the other ship.
“I’ve hired a special crew to load it and sail it. They have orders to cast off as soon as the Order attacks the city. And I’ve told them you’re going to be hidden on the boat.
“The Pontiff is offering a large reward for any information about you,” Bo-Shing continued. “I know the kind of men I’ve hired. At least one of them is sure to betray the rest of the crew for that kind of coin.
“One of the Pontiff’s agents has probably already gotten word that you’ll be on board. The Inquisitors think they know exactly what ship you’ll be on. They’re going to focus all their efforts on stopping it from leaving.”
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but Cassandra thought it could work. In the confusion of the battle, things would happen quickly. With the decoy drawing most of the Inquisitors’ attention, The Chaos Runner really might be able to slip out of the city with the rest of the fleeing vessels unnoticed. But one thing about the plan troubled her.
“Do you realize what will happen to the crew on the decoy when the Inquisitors discover they’ve been tricked?” Cassandra asked.
“I’m sure they’ll be captured, interrogated, and eventually executed,” Bo-Shing said with a shrug. “But these are the kind of men who don’t deserve to live.”
“Many might say the same thing about you,” Cassandra noted.
“This is why I didn’t tell you about the plan,” he explained with a sigh. “When the attack comes, people are going to die. A lot of people. Many more than just the crew of my decoy vessel.
“If you want to get out of Callastan, you have to accept that lives will be sacrificed to make it happen. If that’s a problem for you, just turn yourself over to the Pontiff and maybe she won’t attack the city at all. Thousands will be spared.”
“It’s not the same,” Cassandra replied though she felt guilt gnawing at her.
The city is under siege because of me. He’s actually right about that.
“These are not innocent victims,” Bo-Shing insisted. “They’ve all committed crimes so horrible that no captain will even take them on again. That’s why they’re all available for this crew.
“If anyone deserves to suffer at the hands of the Order, they do.”
“You of all people are not fit to judge them,” Cassandra said. “Methodis told me of the things you’ve done.”
“Then you judge them,” Bo-Shing said, flashing her a sly grin. “You’re the client. Just give the word and I’ll call the
whole plan off. You and Methodis can try to find some other way to slip out of the city.
“Or tell me you want to go ahead. Tell me you don’t mind if a ship full of savage killers and brutal deviants falls into the Order’s hands while you make your escape.”
Sick bastard is enjoying this. He likes watching me squirm.
Methodis had warned her about Bo-Shing, and now she understood what a completely vile and amoral monster he was. Yet there was some truth in what he said.
She couldn’t save the city—not if she wanted to save the entire world. She was willing to let innocent men, women, and even children die rather than hand the Crown over to the Pontiff. So why should she care that she couldn’t save a boatful of criminals?
“Stick to the plan,” she said.
There is one person I can save, though. Someone who deserves it.
“I don’t want Methodis to come with us,” she declared.
“Really? And how are you going to stop him?”
“Methodis doesn’t know I’m here. Give me the address of the warehouse. But I want you to give him a false location of where to meet. I’ll find some excuse for him and me to split up as we come to meet you.”
“Betraying the man who took you in?” Bo-Shing chuckled. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you!”
It’s not a betrayal, Cassandra thought. I don’t know exactly what will happen when I reach the Keystone, but I doubt any of us will be coming back from that island. If Methodis gets left behind, at least he has a chance to survive.
She didn’t say any of this to Bo-Shing, however. She didn’t owe the pirate any explanations.
“Give me the address of the warehouse,” she said. “I need to be back before Methodis realizes I’m gone.”
—
It was time for Orath to leave the dank cellar he’d been hiding in ever since the dark ritual to reach across the Burning Sea and contact his master. The Pontiff’s armies were gathered outside the city and a Blood Moon had hung in the sky for weeks—war was coming, and the Crown would soon be on the move.
Daemron had sent a vision into the mortal world. By now the one who carried the Talisman had seen it in her dreams; she would be trying to get to the Keystone. And the only way to reach it was by ship.
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