The Allseer Trilogy

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The Allseer Trilogy Page 49

by Kaitlyn Rouhier


  Samira was quiet for a time, her eyes glued to the floor. “I won’t lie to you. Val’shar is as dangerous as it is beautiful. It has slowly unraveled into madness and the chaos grows year by year. Executions are an almost daily occurrence, and they happen against those with and without powers alike. The populace is largely in support of the royal family, either out of fear or out of some twisted sense of loyalty. There is also the frightening possibility that they genuinely believe the lies they’ve been fed by the royal family. Change is coming though. As much as they’ve tried to keep hold of the city, the royal family is gradually losing its grip. From what I’ve heard from my sources lately, rebels have been gaining a foothold in the city. They’ve made some bold moves as of late; stopping executions, going toe to toe with the Seekers, and causing all sorts of mayhem across the city. It wouldn’t surprise me if they make a move soon.”

  “What do you mean? What do they have planned?”

  “What better way to end their strife than to take the royal family out of the equation. The belief of that family has caused a great upset in the balance of the world. The time is coming where they’ll either be knocked off their pedestal or the world will continue to suffer their misguided wrath.”

  It was all so complicated. So much had been happening in the world, so much he’d been oblivious to. He needed answers and who better to ask than Samira. “How did things get this way? Every scrap of information I’ve found has shown that all four deities were once worshipped equally. When did Riel become the enemy?”

  Samira gave a wry smirk. “The honest answer - a failed election.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “Val’shar has long been a seat of power. Where religious fervor is concerned, the city has always been host to some of the most devout. It was a city built for the gods. It’s a myriad of temples and holy structures, devotions both big and small dedicated to the four. The city has been always been ruled by a devout family, one chosen by a council representing the people of the city. Every four years, the council would come together and choose a family from one of the four temples, a family thought to embody all the qualities of their favored god. On and on this cycle had gone until the Zekarian zealots were slighted.”

  “Slighted how?” Garild asked. This was all new, a well of information he’d yet to dip into. He felt like a child again, giddy and anxious.

  “The council opted to skip over the Zekarian family altogether. The heads of the Zekarian temple at the time, a family by the name of Creold, had begun teaching a rather curious variant of the faith. They proposed that Zekar was the one and only true god and that it was only through his gifts that the world was created. Riel was cast to the role of evil temptress, a spiteful thief that stole the powers of the stars to craft her own beings, beings strong enough to enslave and harm those Zekar had helped create. They scoffed at the idea of Riel being his lover, of him gifting her souls by which to create life. In their eyes, she’d been given entirely too much credit. To the surprise of many on the outside, people began to listen.”

  “I don’t image things went very well when the council decided they weren’t worthy,” Garild said.

  Samira chuckled. “An understatement. By the time the election rolled around, the Zekarians had built up quite the loyal following. People had always feared those with powers. Before all of this happened, we were merely tolerated at best. The Creold family stoked those flames, taught the populace that we were a force to be feared. The city council found the mounting fear and discord wrought by the Creold’s to be too divisive to be good for Taverin. They feared putting them in power would cause a witch hunt that would hurt everyone, effectively starting a civil war and igniting a fire that could quickly get out of control. And so, they chose a Rielian family as a candidate instead and sparked the very fire they’d been hoping to avoid.”

  Garild felt his world shift into place. Everything that had happened to him, the lies and deception and the fear, it was all starting to make sense. Crazy as Nyson had been, he had protected them from the outside world, had tried to prepare them to deal with a threat greater than they could have imagined. The Darkness had existed, only it wasn’t gelatinous goo they had to fear, it was people.

  He sighed, trying to wrap his head around the mountain of information that had been heaped at his feet. “This is a lot to take in. I guess I thought the problem would be - I don’t know - less human, I guess?”

  “We’re a complicated bunch, us humans. Nothing is ever so simple when it comes to people,” Samira sighed, pushing herself away from her desk. “I think that’s enough for today. We’ve a very concerned Rand to calm and your friends will be waiting.”

  Garild glanced outside, surprised to see the forest alight with the colors of an afternoon sun. He hoped he hadn’t worried Rand too much with his sudden absence. “I’m sure I made a great first impression, running off into the forest by myself.”

  Samira shrugged. “Rand will understand. I do that to people sometimes. Oh, about Rand, that letter you have…”

  Garild glared at her. He was glad he’d left the letter with Trista. He wouldn’t have put it past Samira to go snooping while he’d been knocked unconscious. “What about it?”

  “Unless I’m mistaken, Brogen gave you that letter. Rand is his son.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Why didn’t anyone tell me? Barog could have at least warned me!”

  “I don’t think Barog expected Rand to be the one greeting you at the gates. He probably would have told you otherwise. Just…listen. I’ve known him a long time. I know how he feels about his father and those feelings are not something I would ever want to dredge up. Don’t go waving that letter in his face and expect the outcome you were hoping. He’s likely to burn it and ship you and that letter back to Taverin.”

  Garild muttered a curse. Why is everything always so complicated? “You don’t think a dying man deserves to at least try?”

  Samira shook her head. “That’s between him and Rand. He had his chance years ago and his father failed him then just as he always has. Do what you will, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now come. We’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of us.”

  Garild followed her back down the winding stairs, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. He got lost in his own thoughts, filtering through the answers he’d been given. There was so much at stake, the world on the brink of something he couldn’t even begin to unravel. It was complicated and messy, and he wondered what his part would be in it all.

  He wondered if his studies would ever make a difference in the world - if he would ever make a difference. His friends that had ventured off in the world, would they accomplish great things? Perhaps it would be them that helped shape the change to come. And it was coming. He could feel it in his bones. The world was shifting. He could only hope it changed for the better, that his kind could see a day where they wouldn’t have to live in fear.

  Please be safe out there, wherever you are…

  CHAPTER 19

  Kirheen woke to sounds foreign and unfamiliar. There was the clattering of carts, creaking wheels and clopping hooves. The chattering of people rose and fell like waves, crashing and roaring in the street. Waking in such a place had her missing the barn where she’d spent several solemn months. It had been quiet, the sound of the horses and the smell of hay and dirt a comfort to her battered soul and body.

  Quiet as a mouse, Kirheen rose from the bed, tip-toeing across the room to peer down into the street. Their room overlooked the main thoroughfare. It was clogged with people, most of them meandering south. They seemed excited, smiling and giddy, their laughter trailing behind them as they went. A few carried food, fresh pastries and breads and colorful candies that Kirheen wasn’t familiar with. Her stomach twisted, a painful reminder that she’d gone to bed without food.

  Food was going to become problematic, having shelter even more so. It was getting harder to ignore how l
ight their money pouch had gotten, and without the entirety of what Leann had given them to sell, it was likely to stay that way. It would be nothing but bread from there on out.

  She sighed, drawing herself away from the window. It was pointless to think about such things. She’d spent most of the night going over scenarios in her head, trying not to let the worst of those thoughts consume her. Everything was an uncertainty now and it made the weight of each decision that much heavier to bear.

  Movement caught her eye and she watched Tomias stir. Her stomach flopped, a nervous fish bent on leaping its way out of her skin. They’d need to discuss the coming days and what they planned to do. He’d said they’d figure it out, but Kirheen wasn’t so sure they could. Without money, they were effectively stuck in Val’shar, and each hour that passed put them in more danger. She hadn’t intended to stay for longer than a few days, just long enough to figure out what pulled at her heart so. Now they were trapped.

  She dragged herself back to the bed and sat down, letting her thoughts wrap themselves into a jumbled mess. Fingers touched her back and she peered over her shoulder. Tomias was awake, blinking sleepily as he greeted the morning light. “You know,” he said. “Trying to figure out this whole mess is just going to give you a headache.”

  “And ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away,” Kirheen retorted.

  “No? I thought that was how that worked. Ignore something enough…” He propped himself up on his elbow and motioned for Kirheen to lay with him. With a reluctant sigh, she made herself comfortable. She stared at the foot of the bed, hoping that if she stared at that exact spot for long enough, she’d forget to focus on the problems at hand.

  “Not mad at me anymore?” she coaxed, noting the return of his usual humor.

  He reached out his hand, grabbing hers and giving it a squeeze. “Kir, I wasn’t exactly mad at you. This isn’t your fault. I’m just - I was scared. Gods, I still am. I knew this would be dangerous, but I didn’t expect to get wrapped up in things so soon. We were here a whole five minutes and watched one of our own murder someone. We got questioned by a Seeker and you resorted to asking a Zekarian priest for directions.”

  “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

  Tomias smiled, a crooked grin that was all mischief. “Not a chance.” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering the room. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. If we have to stay here for a while until we can sort this out, it’ll mean exposing ourselves and being out in the open for far longer than is safe. It might mean having to separate, to be alone at times in this city and that kills me. If something happens to you that I could have prevented, I’d never forgive myself.”

  His fears were a mirror of her own. “Tomias, you don’t have to worry about me so much. I can take care of myself.”

  He snorted. “You say that as if I had any doubt. I know you can, but it doesn’t mean I want you to have to. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to care.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I don’t want anything to happen to you either. You know that, right?”

  “I’m not so sure. I’m pretty sure you were prepared to turn me over to the Seekers yesterday.”

  Kirheen laughed, relieved that the tension from the day prior had been just a temporary thing. It had hurt having that wedge between them, that anger. It was the first time they’d treated each other so poorly, and she didn’t want to repeat the experience anytime soon. “No way. I wouldn’t just throw away such a valuable servant,” she teased.

  “Ouch,” he exclaimed, holding his free hand over his heart. “I’ve been wounded.”

  “You’ll live,” she said, releasing his hand. “I, on the other hand, am positively starving and won’t live much longer without food.”

  “Well let’s remedy this situation. At least that is something we can fix.”

  They gathered up their measly lump of possessions and the key to the room and trudged downstairs. The same innkeeper from the night before stood at the bar, squinting his beady eyes as she approached. He said nothing, simply held out a hand. She dropped the key on the bar top as she had the night before with the money, turned on her heels, and marched out with Tomias. They wouldn’t be back.

  “That guy really seems to hate us,” Tomias mused.

  “And I really hate him. It’s mutual.”

  They slipped into a stream of bodies that carried them down the road and towards the castle. There was so much noise, a thousand voices all vying for her attention. Tomias grabbed for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and yanked her closer. “Let’s keep you out of trouble,” he said, grinning like a fool.

  “Oh please, like I ever get into trouble.”

  “For fear of losing my life, I’m not going to comment.”

  They strolled along the street, trying to ignore the eager pace of those behind them. Kirheen peered into shops, hoping to see something within their measly price range. After the first few glances, she began to realize how futile that hope was. Even the food looked expensive. Everywhere were delicately frosted pastries, chocolate covered confections, and an array of cream filled puffs in a rainbow of colors.

  The smells were maddening and she tried to distract herself by studying the people around her. “Black seems to be the color of choice around here,” Kirheen noted. A few of the wealthier women that passed wore sparkling black dresses, edges lined with frilly lace. Their male counterparts wore fitted black shirts and vests, alive with the fire of a thousand tiny crystals. All of them were masked, swirling and elegant but unnerving to look at. Not being able to see their faces put Kirheen on edge. It was hard enough to tell what the intentions and motives of a person were without them hiding behind a mask.

  Those not as fortunate clung to the outer edges of the road, draped in dingy rags stained yellow from wear. Some of them had tried dying their garments the same black as the nobles, but it only served to make the holes in their clothes more noticeable.

  “We’re terribly out of style, Kir. I know we’re running low on money, but we may think about a change of clothes. It might help us…blend.”

  “Blending is good. I like blending,” she said, feeling herself wilt in the crowds. As much as she liked being able to hide among the people, it was also stressful. It felt like every eye was turned towards her, watching her every move. She tried to ignore the feeling, instead focusing her attention on Tomias. “Well, no food here, at least not that we can afford. Want to just keep following the crowd? Maybe we’ll run into something.”

  “We could find a Zekarian priest and ask him for directions.”

  “Oh, ha. Very funny.”

  He smiled. “Guess there is no harm in finding our way around this place. We’ll loop back around up ahead.”

  Kirheen looked to the castle looming in the distance. It was a formidable construct and a constant reminder that everyone in Val’shar lived beneath their terrifying rule. Unless that castle miraculously crumbled atop their miserable heads, the royal family would just keep making things worse for everyone. With all the talk of the rebels, perhaps the day of their demise wasn’t so far off.

  “Looks like the road opens up ahead,” Tomias said, nudging her arm. “Maybe a market of some sort.”

  “Hopefully one we can afford to spend money in,” she said, trying to peer around the person walking in front of her. She could just barely make out a widening of the road ahead. With fingers crossed, she anxiously awaited the moment she’d have food to shove in her mouth.

  The road dumped them into a city square bustling with activity. It felt fit to burst, barely containing the mass gathered within. They crowded closer and closer to whatever was happening at the center, fighting and pulling and pushing to get a better view. Banners the color of blood fluttered from the top of every building, a sharp contrast to the dreary, gray sky. There were figures on the rooftops, black cloaks and expressionless masks marking them as Seekers, dreadful ravens forever watchful of the people below.

 
; Across the way, wooden platforms towered over the crowds. Guards in gleaming silver armor walked their length, spears and swords and shields at the ready. Pampered nobles sat behind them, clothed in some of the most extravagant gowns and suits Kirheen had ever seen. Each face was masked, hidden from the common folk ogling from below their platform of safety. All of them were firm supporters of the royal family. In exchange for some semblance of safety, the nobility of Val’shar provided money and powerful alliances to the royal family. They held sway over the commoners, spoon feeding them lies and propaganda to further their own power. And if such nobility were watching…

  “I don’t think we should be here,” Kirheen whispered, inching closer to Tomias. Her gut rumbled with unease as she looked at the crowd, so many people, so much tension gathering like a great storm cloud. She could just barely see what everyone had gathered to look at, some sort of structure built in the center of the square.

  “Damn it,” Tomias muttered under his breath. He gripped her hand, spun around, and tried to head back towards the inn. There was a wall of people, solid and impenetrable. Mindless excitement pushed the wall forward, forcing Kirheen and Tomias back towards the square. Try as they might, there would be no getting through.

  They turned back around, tried to push through the outside edge of the square. Tomias was aiming for another road, some way to get them to safety before the true spectacle could begin. A cry rose from the crowd and a sea of people lurched forward, pressing in tighter in a place already feeling the strain.

  Tomias took one look at the path ahead and yanked her to the right, towards the buildings lining the square and the only safety they’d have in such a place. A stack of crates had been set up hastily in front of one of the shops, blocking the door from any potential looters. One of them had tumbled to the ground and Kirheen spotted an opportunity to get a better view. She had no desire to see what had drawn such a crowd. In her heart she already knew, but if an opening presented itself to leave, she wanted to be ready to take it.

 

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