by Kim Wedlock
But that afternoon, the light had finally brightened, the trees had slimmed, and the air had become cleaner and easier to breathe. An hour later, they emerged at last into the summer sun, its warm glow bathing their faces from across the pastures.
Garon cursed immediately. The sun should have been behind them.
"How did we get turned around?!" He demanded furiously of no one in particular, but as the others looked around in equal confusion, Eyila sent him an impish grin. He met her flatly. "If you say 'winds', I'm leaving you here."
But while Aria declared that she hadn't been woken in the night by any such force, Rathen was pondering his own theories. There was a strange idea coalescing that perhaps another natural force was at work - one with tempestuous eyes of painite - but he couldn't gauge why. Unless, of course, the great Root Mother had finally come to realise that the matter was well beyond his capabilities and simply sought the quickest end. That wouldn't come as any great surprise. But he wasn't about to complain. For once, things seemed to be going his way.
The others stepped out of the trees and into the open landscape. He moved to follow with Aria in hand when a peculiar melancholy set over him. Compelled by something unfathomable, he hesitated at the threshold, lingering in the last reach of the trees as he looked out across the empty fields. The sorrow grew only deeper.
Unbidden, his eyes pulled longingly over his shoulder. At the sight of the leaves, trees, bark and moss, his anguish waned, replaced by that same, singular welcome that had met him when they'd camped in the High Dells. A mournful sigh slipped from his lips.
Aria noticed. With a wonderful, reassuring smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, she encouraged him out behind her. He followed reluctantly, until he heard his name spoken from back along the trees.
All six snapped around to find a lithe figure hurrying towards them on silent feet. Rathen's strange mood evaporated at the sight of her. "Elle? What are you doing here?"
"Warning you."
His smile slackened as she reached him, but he embraced her fiercely never the less. She matched it, and they remained in each other's arms for a long moment while the rest looked on uncomfortably.
"Warning us of what?" Garon interrupted, earning himself a mix of reproach and disapproval from the others, but he ignored them when Taliel's soft, thoughtful eyes hardened gravely and swept over them all as they parted.
"Salus has made a deduction. One I presume he's wrong about, but there is no evidence to convince him or anyone else otherwise." Her gaze returned to Rathen, who looked back at her nervously. "He thinks you're working with the elves. If you aren't one yourself."
His harsh face broke into a sudden grin of confusion, and he laughed at the absurdity. She proceeded to explain the connections her superior had made between his sudden appearances and disappearances, his power, his absence from the Order, his acquisition and use of the Zi'veyn, and how he'd tied it all so neatly into the incident at Ferna.
"The thorns and guardians receded yesterday," she informed them as he stared at the ground and sifted the matter.
"Two days of watch," Anthis mused. "In keeping with holy observations - it took two days and two nights without food or water for Thu'ulak to repent his slaughter of a neighbour's prize pig. The spells were meant as discouragement, though, so--"
"Thank you, Anthis." Garon looked firmly back to the phidipan. "What does he plan to do about this?"
"As of yet, I don't know."
"Well what else has he been doing? In the last three to four weeks - what's happened? Where has he struck? And when?"
"Easy, Garon," Rathen bristled at his aggression, and turned back to her himself to poise the question more calmly. "What has he done since we last met?"
And she told them. Eyila was appalled by the report of his attempts to provoke both Doana and General Moore into battle, Anthis was personally uneased by both sides' focus upon his resident city of Kora, Rathen was worried by both his array of surveillance spells and his successful extension of a chasm all the way across the northern border from the Pavise Mountains to Dustwatch, and Taliel was, herself, more than a little surprised that the union between harpy and ditchling was their own doing.
But every one of them took on a deathly pallor when the attack on Bowden was raised.
"He was there?"
"Yes," she replied tersely. "Searching for Doana's lockbox at the very same time you were there, pushing your luck. It's fortunate that you didn't cross paths! Vastal knows what could have happened. Though, it is ironic that if he hadn't been there himself, he would have seen you in one of his mirrors..."
"Mirrors?"
"He's feeding the surveillance spells into them - the idea was that he could look in, but those he was looking at couldn't look back." She shrugged while they exchanged looks of abstract amusement. "As it is, one of my...like-minded colleagues was monitoring them at the time. You got away with it by nothing more than sheer dumb luck."
"It seems to be a recurring theme," Anthis noted.
"And as for what he's doing now, his attention is focused on Doana, but you are a close second for priority. He's no doubt trying to find a way to stop you, and more enthusiastically than before."
"Isn't there something you can do?" All eyes turned to Garon at his flagrant accusation. "You're working with Elias Malson and other 'colleagues', as you call them, but what are you all doing about it? What have you done to slow him down? Impede his magic? You're in the best position out of all of us to make a difference and what have you got to--"
"Enough, Garon." The inquisitor's black, challenging glare flicked sharply onto Rathen, and he met it with his own caustic scowl. His voice dropped dangerously. "Don't you forget for a moment that Elle is risking her life by telling us this. Every time she comes to us she puts her life on the line, and she knows better than any of us what her punishment would be. Don't you dare question her loyalty."
"The very fact that she's here telling us all of this at all begs the question of her loyalty."
Rathen's lip twitched into a snarl, and he squared towards him with an expression that turned even darker against possibility. But he said nothing beyond that powerful stare, and Garon presented no challenge beyond holding it for a moment, then turning away of his own accord and surveying their surroundings instead.
Rathen straightened in silent victory, but he quickly joined the others beneath their thick cloud of fret.
"There must be something we can do," Petra said at last, stirring the heavy silence. "If he's taking on tasks himself rather than leaving them to others, and if we're going to carry on running around, removing the magic he's trying to use and he thinks Rathen is working with elves..." she let it hang. Everyone looked back at her; they knew what she was moving towards, but they each hoped they were wrong. She sighed and finished if just to shake off their anxious eyes. "It's inevitable that we're going to come to blows with him. Directly."
"Then we use his weaknesses to our advantage," Anthis said with a thick frown, arms still folded tightly in thought. "He's relying on his magic - these watchful spells, mirrors, handling matters himself. And, no doubt, he's overestimating himself because of it. Who wouldn't, after gaining magic out of the blue like that? And elven magic, no less. But he's only been in tuition for a matter of months, and with Rathen and the Zi'veyn...I think we could have some kind of fighting chance. We just need to find out what those weaknesses are..." He looked up hopefully towards Taliel, but the phidipan could only shake her head.
"I would tell you if I knew. But you're right: his knowledge is thin, and he does have too much confidence in it."
"That isn't enough..." Rathen picked at his lip as he spiralled deeper into thought, staring through the grass and well beyond while his face twisted slowly in repugnance, an inward battle raging between mutually unfavourable choices. When he finally looked up, kneading his unhappy decision into more delicate words, he found Garon and Elle each watching him.
"You want to provoke him," the i
nquisitor said in a quiet voice that belied his disbelief.
"We have the Zi'veyn," he explained quickly, "and he knows that, so he won't come after us alone. But if we plan ahead, find out where he'll be, we can stay ahead."
"He'll bring mages," he reminded him pointedly, still shaking his head, incredulous to what he was hearing. "And - Anthis said it - he has elven magic, Rathen."
"Could we not use the Zi'veyn against him?" Eyila suggested, but Rathen had begun shaking his head, too.
"If we forget that he's only part-elf, then, at best, it will weaken him. But it'll occupy my magic to use it whether it works or not, and if he brings mages with him - human magic, which the Zi'veyn can't affect - then there will be no one to stop them. You've not been trained as I have, or as Salus's mages have, and while you are, frankly, incredible at what you have been taught, in this situation there's only so much you can do." He glanced towards her apologetically, but she didn't seem at all offended, and nodded instead at the compliment.
"Could you not bind them, then?" Petra asked.
"If he brings two mages, the second could counter-spell the first's bonds before I can get to him."
"Unless you taught Eyila how to do it."
"Yes," he said slowly, "I could - but that would still leave Salus unoccupied."
"Only for a moment."
"And that could be all it takes."
"And while he is over-confident in his own abilities," Taliel added, "he's shrewd. He knows you're powerful, Rathen. He wouldn't bring just one mage."
Garon turned away slowly in bewilderment, still shaking his head to himself and muttering something beneath his breath. He looked out over the fields, awash in golden light, but of course he didn't see them. Finally he spoke up. "This is...mad... Madness. That's what this is."
"It's also inevitable."
He sighed heavily and hung his head. The others watched him in patient silence until he rolled his head back and looked hopelessly towards the sky. "It is. I know it is... And...far better that we're prepared for it when it does come crashing down..." He sighed again and turned back to them, but though his grey eyes pinned each of them with severe consideration, he didn't speak again for a while. His eyes locked onto Rathen. "Can we be sure the Zi'veyn won't work on humans?"
"Yes." He shrugged the bag off of his back and withdrew the palm-sized relic. Garon and Anthis each looked quickly to Taliel, but she only peered at it with a touch of wonder and her hands remained behind her back.
When Rathen turned with it directly towards Eyila, the young woman stumbled back a step, her eyes wide in alarm. He held it loosely and closed his eyes, leaving her to look frantically across the others, hoping someone would step in and stop him. But it had already begun to float between his palms.
"Uh, Rathen--"
"She'll be fine." His tone was unaffected; he seemed to have no trouble at all in operating the relic while there was no magic around to addle him, and his ease silently impressed a great many of them. "Eyila: cast something."
Though frightened, she found some kind of reassurance in his poise. So she collected herself and raised her hands to her chest, aware all the while of the beat of her heart and the heat of the blood in her veins. Her fingers twisted into brief, swift signs. Rathen flew backwards and struck the trunk of a tree.
A gasp of surprise burst from the group, and a few may then have chuckled. Aria, trying to hide her own amusement, rushed to his side to make sure he was okay with Eyila close behind her, apologising all the while.
"She did tell us she could defend herself, as I recall," Petra reminded him with a grin as he rose stiffly back to his feet, and Anthis hurried to snatch the Zi'veyn from the ground.
"Yes, I remember... Well, my point is proven: it won't work on human magic."
Garon nodded gravely while Rathen winced and rubbed his tailbone. "Shall we assume, then, that it won't work on him at all?"
"We might be better off."
"In that case, we won't be able to do much with just the six of us. We can attack and use the element of surprise, but to test weaknesses we'll have to linger, which means we won't be able to flee in the confusion. We will need allies. Allies Salus wouldn't expect..."
Rathen frowned at him carefully. "...You mean Elle's--"
"No. Others." He looked pointedly at Taliel. "And we'll leave it at that."
Rathen glared, but he didn't attempt to argue. Whoever these 'others' were, he would reveal it when it mattered. And...perhaps it wouldn't hurt to keep one or two things from her...
"When can we do it?" Eyila asked.
"Not for some time," Garon replied, and even Rathen was forced to agree.
"We're not remotely ready. It will take planning. And we're getting ahead of ourselves either way - the Order is still our best bet."
"All right," Garon snapped, whirling on him like a viper, "you're pushing for it. How exactly do you propose we get into Kulokhar without getting ourselves arrested? Or killed?"
"You want to go to the Order?!" Taliel stared at him in such horror that he shrank back a step. "Rathen, have you lost your mind?!"
"No, I haven't--look, just calm down - they can help us."
"Help? Rathen, they're hunting for you, they want to bring you in!"
Garon barked a humourless laugh. "My question stands."
"Why are they looking for him?" Anthis asked more calmly, but it was Rathen who gave the bitter answer.
"Because of Ferna. Of course. I've put the Order in an even worse light. The rebellion is bigger than me, but the threat I pose can be eradicated by just imprisoning me." He closed his eyes tightly and pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead as if to push together a solution to his once-perfect plan.
Anthis, however, merely blinked. "Well...doesn't that mean we have our in, then? Can't we just let them find us?"
"No, we'll be taken as prisoners. Ferna or not, whatever it is that has forced the Order to acknowledge I'm out here and try to bring me back can't be good for us. It's best that we go to them and pick carefully who we reveal ourselves to. Maybe we can...sneak in somehow..."
"'Sneak in somehow' - plan of the century," Garon retorted dryly. "Look, you may have some idea where these transformations come from, but the Order is still none the wiser. They will prosecute you without question."
"That may be true," Rathen growled impatiently, "but Owan has said that no one in the Order believed it was as simple as--" His face suddenly lit up. "Owan! We can send word to Owan!"
"The lone, aggressive mage we found lurking around Stonton?"
"Agg--what? No, he--"
"And what if Owan doesn't trust you anymore? What if the incident in Ferna has altered even his stalwart opinion of you? What if he agrees that you need to be brought in?"
"No." He shook his head almost petulantly. "No, we can trust him."
"You've said that before and there's been little to confirm it."
"And nothing at all to deny it. We can trust him."
"My sister," Petra offered slowly.
"But she's in the military, isn't she?" Anthis asked. "They're mobilised..."
"That doesn't mean she's outside the city...but, no. She could be against me. Owan, I know, but your sister joined the order after my banishment and no doubt shares the popular opinion that I am a monster, some black mark on the Order's past. She could vouch for you, but she'd take no small amount of convincing for me, and if she's not receptive, that's the end of it. But Owan knows me personally, and he knows what we've been doing. Don't make faces, Garon, he's a scholar, he's intuitive. And if he has been persuaded against me, it will still be a far easier matter to bring him around. He's our only option..."
"We can use Midsummer to our advantage," Anthis suggested. "Everywhere's alive with it - it would help us slip by unnoticed. We could be there in a week, maybe less."
"And Owan has some means of using the White Hammer's sparrows. If we go to the nearest White Hammer outpost, we can use a sparrow to get word to
him and he can find some means of shielding us from the Arana's eyes in the city."
"If we do this," Garon sighed with sufferance, "we need a solid plan. There's an outpost in Eselon; we could be there in three hours."
"A solid plan in three hours?" Petra looked doubtful.
"Not necessarily - if we let Owan know that we're heading his way and that we need his help getting into the city without being seen, he can work something out and send the details back to us."
"It would all be in his hands. You're putting an awful lot of faith in him."
Rathen sighed irritably. "Yes, well, friendships are like that."
"But I thought you weren't that close anymore."
"Who am I close with anymore? Bonds aside, this is the only reliable option we have." He gave the inquisitor a long and steady look. "We have to do this. People are in danger, Garon."
"You realise that our antics at Ferna will have undone all our sneaking around?" Petra reminded them carefully. "Those posters are doubtlessly still up, and it seems that people are looking for us."
"But surely the incident at Ferna would discourage anyone else from confronting him? Assuming anyone even believes he was there - stone thorns and moving statues are unbelievable already. Throw him into the mix and it's nothing short of ridiculous. Surely..."
"One can only hope." Garon loosed a flat sigh and shook his head to himself one more time. "I'll go into Eselon alone either way. And all of you...you just be careful." He fired Taliel a warning glance, but this time Rathen could only find it comical. He sorely doubted that Garon was capable of seeing through any such threat towards her.
She certainly knew the same, but she returned it with a nod of assurance anyway, and the look in her own eyes was one of familiar promise. Rathen knew that an assurance given with that look was one she had no intention of breaking - by her efforts or anyone else's.
