The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  “It’s quite all right, really. I won’t wander far,” Garild said. His eyes kept roving towards the door, his mind distracted. He needed to move.

  “As you wish. Be careful out there. Rand will have my head if something happens to you.”

  Garild gave him a nod. “I’ll be careful.” Stepping outside, he found himself momentarily blinded by the sun. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust before setting out on the path to his left. He knew it was dangerous to be traveling by himself, to be alone in the forest, but he needed to answer the song singing sweetly in his head.

  He walked for some time, recognizing plants he’d seen in the book. One particular red fern he skirted around, knowing full well that brushing against it would lead to the very oozing sores Wilson had mentioned. With each step, the song grew louder, guiding his feet down paths he’d never traveled. He gave himself to that song, let it lead him with a gentle pull.

  He let himself fade, let the song burrow into his soul. He felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was only when he met the resistance of a door that he slipped back into himself, allowing his mind to come back to reality. Every inch of him tingled as his hand rose to brush against a beautifully carved door. The carvings depicted the four deities, a swirl of earth and wind and light and dark. He pulled the door open, revealing a library similar to the one he’d just left.

  One of the scholars, a short man with a bushy beard and hazel eyes, gazed at him curiously, taking in his clothing with a skeptical glance. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice barely cutting through the melody.

  “Samira, I’m here for her. I was - I am supposed to meet her,” Garild said, tripping over his own words.

  The scholar nodded, closed his eyes for a moment, and then pointed to the stairs. “She’ll see you. You can find her at the top.”

  Garild barely managed a thank you before his feet carried him forward. He took the steps in a daze, his mind so enthralled that he didn’t realize when he’d reached the top. He stood in a circular room, the floors and walls a pristine, white stone. Windows, open to the elements, surrounded him, sheer curtains swaying in the warm breeze. An intricately carved desk of the deepest mahogany took up the far side of the room and from behind that desk, Samira watched him. She sat motionless, studying him with eyes so deep and dark, Garild feared he’d become trapped, unable to look away.

  He felt a faint pressure, a slight break in the song and then Samira tilted her head ever so slightly. “Block out the song,” she demanded. “Make it stop.”

  His body shuddered, his mind latching on to the soothing melody. He didn’t want to make it stop, not when it brought him such peace.

  “Separate yourself from it. Do it.”

  “I can’t,” he admitted. “I don’t want to.”

  “This isn’t about what you want. Drown it out. Make it go away.”

  The pressure in his mind grew, grew until he had no choice but to raise his barriers, to block his mind and push back against the force before it could break him. The song rose in a great crescendo, threatening to loosen his control. He focused harder, weaving together a wall around his mind, strengthening it with what little bit of his will he could still feel. He struggled and flailed, forcing every fiber of his being to block out the pressure, to separate himself from the joyous noise he was slowly drowning in. The sound of his teeth grinding together joined the chorus and he clenched his hand into a fist hard enough to set his whole arm to shaking.

  A great explosion of sound ripped from his chest, though whether it was reality or in the hazy dream world where he seemed to be floating, he couldn’t tell. The song crested and broke, the sweetly singing siren fleeing back into the ocean. The world felt heavy in its silence, darker somehow. When he came back to reality, he lay in a heap on the ground, his skin slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Samira stood over him, her arms crossed over her chest. He couldn’t read her expression. She seemed to wear a mask of indifference and even as she helped him to his feet, she showed no sympathy for the pain he was feeling.

  “He wished to bring about great change in the world, yet in his own madness, he trained but fledgling apprentices barely aware of their own powers. No amount of training he could have provided would have given him the freedom to face his own fears, to bring an end to the plight of his people,” Samira said coldly.

  “What are you talking about?” Garild asked, gripping his chest while he tried to catch his breath. “What do you mean?”

  “Your mind is interesting, at least from what I managed to see of it. You’re not even really part of this world. You were trapped, a prisoner of a mad man. You had no life outside of that place, that… Sanctuary? Is that what he called it? What a fool.”

  “Y-you read my mind? You just let yourself in?” He felt a sudden surge of anger, that sense of violation that Kirheen must have felt whenever they trained together. “You just broke in and read my thoughts!”

  Samira took a step back, the gruesome crystals protruding from her chest reflecting the light. “I skimmed. My job is to protect this place and if it means breaking through the wafer-thin barriers of an untrained boy, then so be it.”

  “What is your problem?” Garild questioned, rolling his shoulders back and standing at his full height. “What makes you think you have the right to just take what you want? I had plenty of training, enough to keep myself safe.”

  “Have I made you angry?” Samira asked with a smirk. “Is it anger that drives you, Garild? Anger that your precious life was a lie. Anger that the only person you could ever see yourself loving abandoned you. Anger that you no longer have a purpose, that you can provide nothing more than useless bits of information while she throws herself to the wolves. Anger that she will probably die, that the city of Val’shar will consume her and there is nothing you can do because you are too weak.”

  With a growl, Garild lashed out, striking at Samira’s mind with the full extent of his power. He held nothing back, letting every ounce of his power leap from him, a battering ram aimed straight at her skull. He could feel the weak point, could feel where to strike. The power drove forward, building and building until it was completely out of his control.

  His power struck but it wasn’t with her mind that Samira reacted. She remained calm, shifting lightly on her feet until she was turned sideways, one hand stretched in his direction, as if she were offering it to him to hold. As the blow struck her mind, she weaved a hand through the air, tracing unseen symbols while the palm of her other hand shot towards him. A great ball of swirling blue light sped in his direction, a real ball of light. It wasn’t in his mind.

  He froze, completely taken off guard as the writhing mass of power sped towards him. It collided with his chest, flinging him back against the wall with great force. It felt as though his entire being shattered on impact. He felt the air leave him in a great rush, saw the world swirl and fade as he fell forward. There was a disconnect between body and soul and he groped senselessly, trying to cling to a reality that seemed to be quickly fading.

  He could hear footsteps approaching, could hear that gentle siren song swelling in his mind, and then the world went black.

  CHAPTER 17

  Kirheen was wide awake, the pulsating pain in her chest too distracting to allow her to drift back to sleep. She watched as light pooled on the floor, filling the room with each passing second, seconds she desperately wished could be spent sleeping. The night had been lost in a whirl of dancing and laughter and music, but despite her exhaustion, she’d found sleep an elusive thing hovering just out of her grasp.

  She rolled over, tugging the blanket up to her chin, and tried to ignore the urge to leap out of bed and take to the road. All the warnings about Val’shar and her own fear would never be enough to muffle whatever called to her from across the land. It wasn’t something she’d ever be able to ignore, nor would she ever be able to explain it. Who would believe her? There was nothing to do but keep it to herself and hope
that whatever it was, she’d find it in Val’shar, that perhaps she’d finally get some peace.

  When Tomias woke, she was already packed and ready, sitting in the chair next to the door. He stared at her bleary-eyed, his hair and clothes completely disheveled. Burk had coaxed him into drinking and by the end of the night, Tomias was slung over his shoulder and had to be carried back to the inn. “Uff, what a night,” he groaned, running his hands over his face. He packed slowly, mumbling complaints as he gathered his clothes and tried to rearrange himself into a more agreeable state.

  Fay was waiting for them when they descended the stairs, two plates heaped with steaming food on the bar top in front of her.

  “For an old woman, you’re up early,” Tomias chided, taking a seat at the bar.

  “I thought it was you youngsters that were always sleeping in,” Fay said dryly, setting mugs of warm cider in front of them.

  “I wish,” Kirheen groaned. “I could use a few more hours of it.”

  “Ah, but there is foolishness to pursue, beheadings to see, and Seekers to greet. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”

  Kirheen didn’t give her the luxury of a response. Instead she took up her mug of cider, glaring at Fay as she took a sip. The woman merely smiled.

  “You’re going to miss us, Fay,” Tomias insisted. “Deep, deep down in that withered heart of yours, you’re going to worry about us.”

  “Ha! I’m more likely to fret about my choice of clothing each day. I suppose, in my own way, I will think of you two. I hope I don’t hear of your untimely deaths.”

  “Well, thank you. You’re such a dear old woman. Please don’t break your hip while we’re away,” Tomias shot back. Fay nearly choked on her laugh.

  “Eat your breakfast,” she demanded and turned away from them.

  They scarfed down their meal; warm biscuits slathered with honey, chunks of smoky ham, and thick, peppered gravy. Full, Kirheen pushed her plate away and washed it down with the rest of her cider, basking in the warmth flooding her body. It helped clear her head and calm her nervous stomach. Tomias was in better shape by the time he’d finished eating, the food having helped curb the effects of his night of drinking.

  “Not much further now. You’ll be in Val’shar in just a few days. I saw to it to remedy your horse problem, so you’ll get there a little sooner than you were expecting,” Fay said.

  Tomias’ jaw dropped. “What?”

  “Are you deaf, boy? I got you another horse. If you’re going to ride off to your death, you may as well do it in comfort.”

  Kirheen shook her head. “Fay, no. That’s incredibly kind of you, but we’ve nothing to repay you with. If anything, we’ve been a nuisance. We can’t possibly accept. You’ve done enough as it is.”

  “Will you just let an old lady have her fun? What use do I have for another horse? It’s purchased. The deal is done. It’s yours and you’ll just have to deal with it. Carri is outside getting you all set up as we speak.”

  Kirheen felt overwhelmed with gratitude. She’d shown them such kindness, taken them under her wing without hesitation. They hadn’t deserved it. They were nothing but strangers to her, but it had mattered little to Fay. “Why?” she asked. “Why do all of this for us?”

  Fay shrugged. “Just a feeling, my dear. Now, let’s get you on the road. The sooner you get to the city, the quicker you can be brutally maimed and executed!”

  “Are we getting close?” Kirheen asked, trying not to sound excited. Tomias looked at his map, eyes following the road they’d taken from Aspen. In her excited fervor, Kirheen had pushed them hard, only stopping each night because Tomias forced her to. She couldn’t rightfully explain why she felt so spastic; a jumbled mess of nerves and anxiety and excitement and dread all wrapped into one. Every muscle tingled with anticipation, her blood humming in her veins. The closer they got to the city, the more she could feel that pull. She was almost where she needed to be.

  “I think so,” he replied. Folding up the map, he tucked it back into one of the packs and sighed. “It can’t be too far now.” While Kirheen found her excitement growing, it seemed to be the opposite for Tomias. The closer they got, the darker his mood grew. He’d grown solemn and quiet, casting uneasy glances at those traveling ahead and behind. While his body language spoke loud and clear about how he felt, he remained silent. Whatever he was feeling, whatever misgivings he had about their journey, he kept it to himself.

  They remounted, weaving back onto the road. With each small town they passed, more travelers took to the roads and soon, there was a steady stream of people pressing in from all sides. People came and went; merchants pulling supply laden carts, weary travelers plodding along beside them, some barefoot with hardly a possession save the clothes on their backs. They passed a few beautifully embellished coaches that could only belong to someone wealthy, the horses that pulled them some of the most beautiful creatures Kirheen had ever seen.

  Despite the hustle and bustle, there was an almost tangible unease. People passed each other with suspicion, eyes always watching, wary of every step and every whispered word. Kirheen had hoped it had all been exaggerated, that the word that had trickled away from the city had simply gained strength, had taken on a life of its own. From the looks on the faces she saw, she could tell it simply wasn’t so. There was grief and fear in their eyes, a hint of what they’d seen in Val’shar, a hint of what they’d lost.

  An ocean of silvery grass swayed around them, blown here and there by the chill wind. It had grown colder, the wind whisking past them and blowing her hair back away from her face. Far ahead, she could see a line of trees. She hoped it would be their last obstacle before reaching Val’shar.

  The forest ended up being a low canopy of twisting vines and scraggly trees, all intertwining overhead. It was beautiful, a natural tunnel weaving through the forest. She could hear something in the distance, an endless hum. At first, she thought it was the same sound she’d heard in the cave and in the swamp, but it seemed so distant. That noise had resonated from within her mind, shattering her senses from within. This was something else.

  The sound grew stronger. The air changed and shifted, the wind tinged with an unfamiliar salty smell. They were closer than she’d thought. Val’shar had been built on an island, a large chunk of land that had broken away from the mainland many, many years ago. The only way in and out of the city was by way of a bridge or by the sea. Kirheen had yet to see the ocean, couldn’t quite fathom the vastness of it. It was another reason to be excited, another reason to keep pushing forward.

  The trees thinned and through the gaps in the foliage, she could see vague shapes in the distance start to take form. Eventually, the trees gave way to sparse, rocky terrain. The steady hum took on new life, only now she could tell it was the sound of water, a steady pushing and pulling, the great thunderous clap of water crashing into rock. When they finally broke through the last line of trees, the sight was enough to take her breath away.

  They stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It spread for miles and miles, as far as her eyes could see. Blue-gray and swirling and chaotic, great waves leapt to crash against the cliffs, sending a misty spray racing upwards. She could taste the salt in the air, could feel a light mist settle over her skin.

  From their vantage point, she could see the bridge leading into the city. It was a wide expanse made of smooth gray stone. Three giant statues lining the bridge depicted the deities, Riel notably missing, her statue having been wrenched into the ocean at some point in the past.

  Beyond it, Kirheen could see Val’shar. It was bigger than she could have imagined. From the bridge, the city sloped upwards towards an impressive fortress of dark stone. Twisting spires reached towards the sky, bridges connecting them. The rest of the city seemed to melt away from that very structure. Having been dedicated to the gods, the city was broken into four quadrants, each one dedicated to a different deity. The one that should have been for Riel was nothing but a charred, blackened waste. It
looked like it had been torched at some point, a terrifying warning that her kind were not welcomed in the city.

  They rejoined the stream of travelers, coaxing the horses along towards the bridge. Movement was slow and the horses shifted nervously with every pause. They could feel the tension in the air and they reacted to it in kind. The wide bridge was teeming with people. To either side, merchants had seen fit to set up stalls and their voices rose above the crowds as they tried to sell their wares. An elderly man to her right held up a string of shiny, black stones that he claimed could block mental manipulation. His rheumy eyes scanned the weary travelers for an easy target to sell to and Kirheen quickly looked away. Her eyes wandered further ahead to a young boy holding a stack of papers, letters in bright red scrawled across the top. He passed them out to those within reach, yelling of the recent news as he did. “Rebels have attacked,” he cried. “Report any suspicious activity to a Seeker. Keep our city safe.”

  If Kirheen had been a bundle of nerves before, she was even more so now. They were in Val’shar, just outside the walls of the city, and the thought was both exhilarating and utterly horrifying. It was a reality now. She’d dreamt of this moment time and time again, thought what it might be like to actually witness these things happen, to actually hear it, to see it in person, to feel the paranoia and fear and know that it was all real.

  It was overwhelming. The crowd pressing in at her side felt too close, the voices of the people around her amplified to ear-splitting levels. There was so much chaos and sound and motion, lights and colors and smells all melding together. She felt dizzy and fear began to worm its way into her heart, inch by squirming inch. She had a sudden desire to turn Benny around and flee back into the woods.

  A hand touched her arm and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Tomias had leaned over, his eyes seeking hers. “Hanging in there?” he asked, his gaze troubled.

  “Y-Yeah,” Kirheen said. “It’s just a lot. I’ll be fine.”