by R. K. Thorne
And even with the false information Aven and Miara had sent, Alikar could be—and probably was—still in Daes’s pocket. Any number of people could betray the meeting point, although of course Dyon hadn’t chosen it yet.
Aven sighed. Getting them all together was inherently risky. This was partly why his father had ordered Dom to remain in Estun. Someone had to, Miara not included, in case of extreme disaster. Perhaps Aven should have more seriously considered using magic to be present, as his mother had with the light images Beneral had helped her create in order to visit him during their journey. Apparently he had done it from a great distance, while traveling to Estun at her request. He, Miara, and Beneral may have even passed each other on the road. How the spell worked, though, Aven did not yet understand.
But not showing up in person and only in the form of eerie blue light did not exactly emphasize that he was the same warrior they’d known for his entire life. And it did emphasize his newfound, questionable abilities.
No, they had to get together in person, and it would be risky no matter what. Aven would do his best to secure the location with their forces, but there was no way around the danger of everyone gathering in one place.
A knock shook the door. “It’s me.” His mother’s voice sounded ragged.
He hung his head for a second. He didn’t want to answer. He had to make sure he had figured this all out. He had to make sure he knew what he was doing on all these different fronts. He had to stay one step ahead of these people.
He could not stop and think—or feel—about what it might mean for his father to be dead, especially with how they’d last left things. But he had a feeling that would be a lot harder staring his mother in the eyes.
“I have news,” she said, as if she understood his hesitation.
“Come on in.”
She opened the door. Another haggard-looking woman accompanied her, hair hanging limply and riding leathers drenched from either sweat or rain or both. Two soldiers escorted her and waited outside the door while the two women came in.
“The riders you requested will be leaving within the hour to return and search for Samul,” his mother said. “Also, we’ve received news from Kavanar.”
The wet woman bowed. “I’ve seen troops mobilizing, sire. From the central fort. Soldiers, cavalry, and siege troops, headed south.”
“Not this way?”
She shook her head. “No, my lord. Of course, they could have changed direction. But they didn’t take the East-West Road that leads here. They started out on the Tryalt Road toward Evrical, but I do not think that’s where they are going.”
“Anything else?”
She shook her head, then hesitated. “Well… some soldiers speculated they were headed toward Evrical, my lord. Others speculated the White City. But they did not seem to really know. They only had orders to start to move south, from the queen.”
“The queen?” his mother started.
The spy nodded again. “I thought that odd as well, my lady.”
“Thank you—what is your name?” Aven asked.
“Shanse Rego, my lord.”
“Thank you, Shanse. See to it that you get a hot bath and meal and whatever you need before you head back.”
“Thank you, my king.” She bowed and left them, but not without the words shaking Aven a bit. He had hoped to hear those words eventually… but not like this.
His mother shut the door after Shanse. “My bird returned from Estun after relaying the news,” she said. Dark circles hung under her eyes, their color dark like the ocean, without any of their usual sparkle.
“Did she bring back news as well?”
Elise nodded and sank into a nearby chair, as if she needed the support but hadn’t quite even made the decision to do so. “I don’t… I have some bad news.”
His heart thudded against his ribcage.
“Miara?” he whispered.
His mother closed her eyes, pain creasing her face. “A dead man was found in her room, stabbed in the side of his neck. Another, a woman, was found dead in the sitting room. At some point, the guards had all been transformed into rats. Someone transformed them back, but it’s unclear who.” She opened her eyes.
“Did they— What about—”
“There’s no sign of her specifically. One horse in the stable went missing the afternoon after we left. No one is quite sure what happened.”
Aven cursed. He should have stayed. He’d been there only hours before that. He pushed his chair away from the table and propped his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. Was she okay? Had Daes figured out they had no intention of hosting the meeting at the location Miara had provided? How could he, if they weren’t even set on a location yet? Was this simply revenge for her escape from him in the first place?
By the gods. Not his father and Miara. Not—
Before panic and despair could overwhelm his thoughts, he forced them still. He didn’t know anything for sure. She’d been planning to escape and had his maps, and one horse had disappeared. She might be fine. And right now, people needed him. A damned war was still about to start, and traitors lurked in their midst.
And he would have to face it without Miara or his father.
No. He forced his mind back to the practical matters at hand. He couldn’t process that now. Wouldn’t. Didn’t need to. Didn’t matter.
“So she could be…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “She could have escaped from them?”
His mother nodded. “Yes. Or she could have been captured or killed, and we just haven’t found evidence yet. Dom is organizing a search. But either way, we don’t know where she is at the moment. I thought you would want to know.”
He nodded. He appreciated her choice of the word “is” there. Of course, she probably knew exactly how he was feeling but on a magnitude he didn’t yet understand. His mother came closer, patted his shoulder for a moment, and then gave him an awkward hug. He leaned into it but couldn’t bring himself out of his slump.
“Also, one of the riders seeking our elder mages returned. Elder Staven was dead, seemingly of natural causes. The other rider is still out and long overdue to return.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Aven. I’ll be next door if you want to talk.” And with that she left him. He breathed a sigh of relief. It really was easier to pretend his father was nearby when she wasn’t in the room.
Damn it all to hell. Where could Miara be? And if they’d taken her, where could they have taken her to?
He knew the answer to that immediately. Mage Hall, of course. They’d enslave her again.
Wunik was long asleep by now. Would it be worth it to wake him so they could look for Miara in the pool of light? Aven hadn’t yet tried the spell alone, although he’d heard more than a few explanations of how it worked. No way was he asking Derk for help, even if the lout was mostly recovered from the damage from the lightning strike.
He glanced at the water basin. The innkeeper had brought up steaming water, a bundle of lavender, and lush towels that Aven had as yet ignored. The lavender only made him ache for her. This inn was nicer than any he and Miara had stayed in on their journeys. Why hadn’t they lucked by this one? Perhaps because of timing; the larger group traveled slower. Or perhaps the larger group needed a larger inn, but one off the fastest route. It didn’t matter. How silly, though, that he wished he were back on that journey toward Mage Hall. At least then, he’d had Miara by his side.
And known she was alive.
He eyed the water again. Could he try the farsight spell? No harm in trying it, was there? Wunik hadn’t mentioned any risks to avoid.
He stalked toward the water, then remembered Wunik’s blessing. Optional, he’d said, but it couldn’t hurt to have a bit more luck on his side at the moment.
A bunch of small mums were gathered on the desk in a small vase. Did the inn put flowers in all the rooms or just the king’s room? No matter. He plucked a petal from one and tossed it into the water with a silent p
rayer, then shut his eyes.
Wunik had spoken of the task like opening a window into the air itself. He pictured opening a window in the middle of the sky outside the inn. If he could just get that working, it’d be a miracle. He struggled to imagine it, add detail to the picture. Nothing happened. He didn’t even need to open his eyes, he could feel that no energy had been released.
Wunik had also described it as similar to opening your eyes. Or more accurately, another eye, a third one that you could move wherever the air reached.
Aven squeezed his eyes shut, picturing the sky above again.
And then, slowly, he opened them again.
He’d thought the bowl would fill with light, as Wunik’s had. But instead, a darkness spilled across the bowl and opened outward, filling the formerly cream-colored water basin as though the water had turned to ink.
But there in the center, he could see it. The inn. It was working.
Did he remember the road, after the last few times going there? Could he slide his way all the way to Mage Hall? If he recalled, it was a fairly straight shot along this particular road…
Miles flew past. Although night, the occasional rider or wagon was still visible. Could any of them have been the mages he’d tried to free?
The road and night grew darker as he went and clouds covered the moon. He lost track of the road in the darkness. He had no idea what he was seeing, which way he was headed. He just had a feeling, a direction. He’d just have to listen to his gut.
And then a village floated by, then another, and then he could see it. Mage Hall and the sea of wheat waving in the wind around it.
Wait. Miara wouldn’t be here yet. She and her captors would still be on the road, or they would have passed his party. Wouldn’t they have? How long would it have taken if they’d flown the whole way? He had no idea.
But much as he was concerned for Miara, he had to admit he knew why he was here. It was not because he expected to actually spot her there.
Daes.
Could he catch a glimpse of what the man was up to?
Aven moved the eye toward the Master’s Hall, the great hold where he’d spent such a lovely time. His shoulder panged, and the image wavered for a moment. He rubbed the spot with his hand and tried to brush it off. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the brand that still gave him phantom pains, but the burns on his shoulders and chest, long since healed away with Miara’s magic. No one would ever know from looking there had been a wound there. But apparently his body—or his mind—had not forgotten.
No activity in the grassy fields in the center. Pairs of guards patrolled—two, three, maybe more? Far more than when they’d started. If Aven couldn’t spot Daes or Miara, he could at least try to see if Menaha, Kae, or Sefim had escaped.
He swung the eye around the other side of the building just in time to see figures getting into a carriage. Odd. Why would they be leaving at this time of night? A secret departure? Who could it be? And where could they be headed?
Aven swooped closer as the carriage door shut and the horses started off. It took all his concentration to follow behind the carriage and move closer. Perhaps if he got alongside the door, he could see through the carriage window.
A bead of real-life sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eye, breaking his concentration. The image faltered as he fell behind the carriage.
Aven wiped his brow with the back of his hand and quickly grabbed hold of the basin, willing his mind to focus, to hurry up.
He caught up with the carriage again. The carriage windows were drawn shut with a curtain. Damn it.
He almost gave up and let the image dissolve. To stop chasing the carriage at that precise rate was very tempting, to say the least. But—air mage, right.
He directed an overzealous gust of wind toward the carriage’s door, which banged against its fastening a bit. But his ploy worked. The curtain was blown aside, and he caught a glimpse of three people. An older man, a girl, and Daes.
Could it be…
Sure, the man and girl could be Daes’s family, although he didn’t seem like the type of man who had any family or who spent any time with them if he did. Or simply some other folks related to one of the Masters, or even Daes’s servants.
Or… could they be Miara’s father and sister?
Perhaps Daes had received word of the attack from his mages and the confusion over Samul. Perhaps they were moving to act. The spy’s confirmation supported this theory as well. If Daes meant to strike while chaos swept Akaria, he could be headed south with the troops right this very instant.
If he’d had Miara killed… if he knew she were no longer a threat… he wouldn’t bring her father and sister with him somewhere.
Of course, he had no real proof that these people were Miara’s family. Aven pulled back and followed the carriage from an easier, less precise distance. They could simply be his servants. But a young girl? No, this must have to do with the scroll. What if Daes was keeping her family with him so he could make good on his threats?
Aven followed the carriage doggedly for some time. It rode straight south and did indeed pass a fort, where many additional soldiers were camped outside—not their permanent accommodations. Some of Kavanar’s forces were indeed moving south. The carriage traveled even farther south, it seemed.
Just outside Evrical, in the swampy marshes that dominated the southern borders of Kavanar, the carriage finally reached its destination. Daes, the man, and the girl got out of the carriage and headed into one of the king of Kavanar’s three residences—Trenedum Palace. As far from Estun as it could probably be, the white marble building lounged amid the marsh and swamp, mosses and ferns draped across it like scarves. Vines crawled up the sides, and many-paned stained glass windows alternated between majestic white columns.
What were they doing here?
A woman strode down the front steps to greet them. Aven peered closer. It was nearly pitch-black in the night, save a few guards and torches. The woman wore a green dress and her eyes were round with… excitement, joy? A gold crown, adorned with rubies and horn-like spikes, circled her brow.
The queen of Kavanar? Greeting them, alone at night?
Daes took both of her hands in his with a bow and a kiss. Not a wholly inappropriate greeting… but Aven’s gut told him something more was at work here.
The four of them went up the stairs and into the mansion.
Exhausted anyway, Aven released the spell and collapsed back onto his bed, closing his eyes. What did any of that mean?
He had so many pieces. How was he supposed to put any of them together when—
No. He couldn’t go there. He had to keep going, keep thinking straight. There would be time to process after they reached Panar, after the vote, after everything settled down again.
If it ever settled down again.
Miara might be there waiting for him. Everything might be fine. Perhaps she’d just encountered unexpected resistance in her escape. If she wasn’t in Panar, he would have time to head to the lake and see if she waited there. And if she didn’t… there would be time then to fall apart and try to figure out how to put the pieces of his life back together. He rolled onto his side, kicking off his boots, and willed himself to just collapse in the oblivion of sleep.
Not so long ago, he’d have been tied to this bed, he thought. And he’d have had Miara at his side. He opened his eyes and stared at the dull, silver-gray wool blankets that lay too undisturbed and neat beside him.
Gods, what he wouldn’t give to have her by his side again. He should have never agreed to let her stay behind, despite his father’s concerns.
What if something had happened? What if he never saw her again?
There were no answers to these questions. He struggled to tamp them down and urge himself into the oblivion of sleep. He tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity, and when sleep did come, his dreams were flooded with the same dark, unanswerable questions.
Jaena’s earthquakes had rattled t
he Devoted a little, but their dark hoods remained at their posts in the center of the road.
“What are they doing?” she asked Tharomar.
Darkness had fallen, so their locations were unclear. “I think they’re still there, just sort of clumped together,” he said.
“Damn.”
“About time for that other idea of yours?” He raised an eyebrow.
She nodded. “Let’s get our stuff together. We might have to follow them, or at least be ready to run.”
“Run toward them or away from them?”
“Either.”
“Seems like a very detailed plan. You give me such faith.”
She shrugged. “You seem to have plenty of faith without me giving you any.” She had no idea if this would work. Of course, venturing into the swamp now that darkness had fallen would be much harder, so she hoped she’d get lucky. She couldn’t imagine her and Tharomar attacking the Devoted at the moment, not when heading into the swamp could avoid it. So if her ploy failed, the swamp was next.
As he gathered up the belongings that they’d scattered in the course of the afternoon and early evening, she gathered her thoughts and marshaled her energy. She didn’t know what to expect or if this would work, but that dog that she had dredged up certainly seemed to have scared off the Devoted in their first encounter while she’d hidden in her man-made cave. Maybe she could do the same thing again.
But another dog? Would that do the trick? One lone dog approaching six men, and no other dogs to send after him? That didn’t seem like enough. What about… maybe a form more like a man.
