The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  Chapter Fifteen

   

  “They really should have been here by now,” Van said as he stood staring at the Wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. “It’s been almost an hour.”

  “The sentries still haven’t moved,” Rynne pointed out as she set down the spyglass. “So they didn’t get caught, at least.”

  He grunted but didn’t reply. His already gruff mood had soured even further the longer the three of them had been out here alone. Between his dour over-protectiveness of Rook and Tiel’s incessant worrying about Selaste, Rynne was about to go stir-crazy. It didn’t help that the two of them liked to jibe each other every ten seconds, either.

  “They’ll be here,” Tiel said after a few moments. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, drifting between outright prayer and silent contemplation. “She will make sure of it.”

  “That makes me feel so much better,” Van muttered.

  Rynne sighed and momentarily considered yanking her hair out when a flicker of movement to her left caught her eye. There, appearing literally out of nowhere, were Rook and Selaste.

  “Good morning,” Rook said with a tight smile. “I hope we didn’t miss breakfast.”

  “Zandrast’s blood,” Van swore, “where did you come from?”

  “We finally got to put her little trick into action. It worked like a charm—they never even saw us cross under the gate.”

  “Glad you made it,” Rynne told him, stepping over and giving him a quick hug. “You owe us a much longer explanation of how you got out of that mess.”

  Rook’s smile faded. His clothes were tattered and he was limping slightly, but he didn’t seem to have any serious wounds. Selaste appeared unharmed.

  “You’ll get it,” he assured her. “For now, though, I’d like to put this damn thing behind us. If we push it, we can probably make it to Karpin before nightfall or just after. We can clean up and get a hot meal, at least.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Rynne asked. “I’m sure the Darenthi will be checking every village along the way.”

  He took a deep breath before finally shrugging. “Maybe, but I think they’ve given up the chase. For now, at least.”

  Van frowned. “What makes you say that? Something as mundane as a border isn’t going to stop our favorite prince.”

  “The border, no,” Rook said, turning towards Selaste. “But I think they realize it’s going to take more than a few Faceless to bring us in.”

  Van’s eyes studied the tall woman before turning back to Rook. “Darenthi don’t scare easily. You know that.”

  “I didn’t say they were giving up completely, but they’ll probably have to regroup. At any rate, Karpin is pretty much the last sign of civilization we’ll see until we get to Jehalai. I’d rather stock up and get refreshed.”

  “All right,” the big man conceded. “The horses are fine, in case you were wondering. Your little distraction yesterday was even better than a Torgain’s.”

  Tiel stepped forward. “Are you all right, Eminence? You’re certain they didn’t harm you?”

  “I’m fine,” Selaste said curtly. “But Rook is right: we should get moving just in case. We can talk later.”

  “As you wish, of course.”

  She stepped over to the horses along with Van. Tiel followed closely behind her like a worried puppy. 

  Rynne rolled her eyes and turned to Rook. “She seems fine. What about you?”

  Rook nodded. “The leg is a little sore, but I’ll be able to ride well enough.” He reached up to his horse and got his saddle situated. “I hope you weren’t too bored.”

  “The two of them only fought about twenty times. It left plenty of hours for them to silently brood instead.”

  Rook smiled tiredly. “Well, I expect a song when we reach Karpin. Something festive.”

  “No promises. Backwater villagers don’t tend to be the best tippers.”

  “I’ll forward you a week’s pay.”

  “Festive it is,” she said wryly. “You need help saddling up?”

  “No.” He vaulted himself up without too much trouble, though he was wincing the entire time. “See, no problem.”

  “Right, I forgot, man-pride,” she sighed. “Just say something if you want us to stop for a break at some point.”

  A few minutes later they were off and riding hard to the southwest. The area south of the Wall was mostly flat plains with the occasional hill or stream. Before the last war it had all been farmland, but the farmers had migrated south during the fighting and never came back. If the peace treaty really did go through, Rynne wondered if that would change. She actually doubted it; a piece of paper signed by bureaucrats wouldn’t convince people who had lost their homes and lands to war. Only time would do that, and a lot of it.

  They rode hard for several hours before Rook signaled for them to take a break. He chose a spot near a clear brook where they could get some fresh water. By the time they tended to the horses and picked at some rations, he finally seemed content to share the details of their escape.

  “Three Faceless and a mage,” Rynne whispered after the explanation, “and you made it out with barely a scratch.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Rook said as he chewed on an apple. “I did get stabbed, you know.”

  Rynne turned to Selaste. The other woman was crouched over the water, letting it run idly across her fingers. “You’re a healer, too?”

  “Apparently,” she replied softly.

  “Good to know,” Van commented. “You said you thought they gave up pursuit. What I’m wondering is why they’re so surprised by all of this. I mean, they did expect to be chasing the Kirshal, right? How were they planning to take down the Messiah?”

  “I’d been wondering about that too,” Rook said. “It’s possible they didn’t know specifically what they were looking for. Marek was hired to dig out a Septurian ruin. They might have been expecting more conventional artifacts.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  Rook shook his head. “Not really. The only other likely thing I can come up with is that they didn’t expect her to be awake. Until now they had no solid evidence to suggest otherwise, and if I’m not mistaken, the scriptures are pretty clear on the waking ritual.”

  “It’s consistent in most writings,” Tiel confirmed. “Even in very obscure sects.”

  “Right, so the question becomes: how do they react now? I doubt they’ll give up, but I also don’t think the prince could muster an army to march across the border right on the eve of his mother’s treaty.”

  Van shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll figure something out. You said this Jehalai of yours was pretty well hidden, right, kid?”

  “Yes,” Tiel said. “Finding it without a guide would be almost impossible.”

  “Well, that’s something, then.”

  “It won’t matter,” Selaste murmured as she stood and turned towards them. “They’re tracking me.”

  Rynne cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  She shrugged. “It’s the only explanation. Didn’t you say your base in Haven was well hidden? Yet they managed to find me anyway.”

  “It was,” Rook said, “but I do have a fair number of contacts who knew its location. We’d probably been there too long, honestly.”

  “Then how did they find us in the forest?” Selaste pressed. “Maybe they assumed we would go south to the Wall, but they knew exactly where to look.”

  “They did make a straight line for you,” Rynne agreed. “But I don’t understand how they would pull that off. I’ve heard that magi who know each other really well can sometimes track each other, but I doubt any of them are also a thousand years old.”

  “No, but they could have known her before she lost her memories,” Rook reasoned.

  Tiel glanced between them. “What’s the difference?”

  “He’s implying she isn’t the Kirshal,” Van said. “She could have known them or worked with th
em before her memories were wiped.”

  “How dare you even suggest such a thing!” Tiel snapped, standing up immediately.

  Rynne reached out and put her arm on his. “Easy, we’re just tossing out ideas. No need to get upset.”

  Tiel glared at her, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance…and then it slowly drained away. He nodded and sat back down.

  “You think someone did this to me on purpose,” Selaste said after a moment.

  “I’m just exploring the option,” Rook told her. “If that is indeed the case, then it’s possible another mage could track you. Otherwise, varium attunement is the only other thing I can think of.”

  Rynne folded her arms across her chest. “That would still suggest someone had planted varium on her with the explicit intention of tracking her. And it’s not like she really had anything on her in that coffin.”

  “Tattoos can be laced with varium,” Van pointed out. “I know Vakari magi do it, at least.”

  Rook and Selaste shared a meaningful glance, and he sighed softly. “We already speculated her tattoos might have something to do with the spell that was keeping her unconscious. I suppose with enough varium they could be used for both.”

  “That seems like a stretch,” Rynne said. “It would take a lot of crystal to do that, and it’s very expensive these days, not to mention unhealthy. Besides, if they were able to follow her, why didn’t they just chase us down in Haven?”

  Rook nodded. “Right, and it also assumes she isn’t the Kirshal, which we can’t confirm or deny.”

  “This is all pointless,” Tiel whispered, almost like he was talking to himself. “She must return to Jehalai.”

  Selaste turned to face him. “Even if I bring an army right behind me?”

  “They are no match for you,” he said flatly. “And we shall stand with you up until the end.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

   “There isn’t much to be done about it regardless,” Rook said. “We can warn your people and that’s about the best we can do. In the worst case we should still end up with a sizeable lead on them, and perhaps we can figure things out before they catch up.”

  Selaste turned her eyes on him. “And then what?”

  “Then you save the world or something,” Van replied. “Isn’t that how the story ends?”

  “It all depends what we learn,” Rook told her, ignoring the comment. “Hopefully they can restore your memories and we’ll go from there. In the meantime, I think this break is over. We need to keep moving if we want to reach Karpin by sundown.”

  Selaste grunted. “I just hope the people are friendly.”

  Rook smiled. “We’re in Ebara. Strangers are always welcome—as long as they bring enough drakes.”