by Beth Alvarez
Firal slid close and wrapped a one-armed hug around the youth’s shoulders. Surprised, he reciprocated, then touched a claw to Lulu’s cheek.
The girl grinned at him.
“Don’t worry,” Rhyllyn said. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Are you ready, Firal?” Kytenia stood among the mages.
Firal hadn’t even noticed. She kissed her daughter’s head and put her down, nodding in gratitude when Rikka stepped forward from the cluster of mages to keep the girl aside.
Vahn touched her arm. Firal couldn’t even bear to look at him. She turned her attention to the mages and focused her strength to one pinpoint of power. She extended it toward the group, and they joined one by one.
The knot of power grew, humming through her body, tingling to the tips of her toes. Firal exhaled, struggling to push everything out of her mind. Anger released with each breath and the ache in her chest lessened. Then she began, and the hurt washed over her anew.
She couldn’t keep from feeling it when she thought of him. Surely chained, likely wounded, awaiting what must be certain death. No matter how she tried to combat it, she knew she’d put him there.
“We’re ready,” Kytenia said.
Firal closed her eyes. She couldn’t think of the dungeon. She pushed that away, refused to let it distract her. They didn’t know if he was still there. Instead she trained all her thoughts on Rune and drew an image in her head.
The vibrant, expressive violet eyes rimmed by dark eyelashes. The sarcastic twist of his mouth and his tangled brown hair. The hint of shadow that trimmed his jaw in absence of a beard, and the strong, commanding presence he held. The scars on his back. The scar in his hand. The deep drive and determination, and the silver rings in his ears.
She layered in details, creating a facsimile of everything that made Rune who he was. And last of all, she thought of his heart. The gentle reassurance of every hurt and wrong forgiven in the moment he’d pressed their rings into her hand.
The air sizzled and split before her. Sections of reality fell away to fragment into shimmering motes.
He was there.
His hands were together overhead, bound in iron and tied with rope. Black blood coursed down his bare chest and sides, so fresh it still dripped to the dank floor. He hung so limply that for an instant, Firal feared he was dead. Then he stirred, lifting his head just enough to look straight at the portal.
Rune couldn’t see them from that side, but he clearly felt the power in the air. Judging by the gleam in his luminescent eyes, he was bracing for a fight.
“Go,” Vahn ordered, nudging Rhyllyn’s arm and then pushing ahead. He paused by the Gate and looked back at Firal, but she couldn’t meet his eye.
“Come back safe,” she said to Rhyllyn instead, and the boy nodded before he plunged through.
The Gate closed on their heels. Firal sank to the floor and gasped as the first sob broke free.
21
Rescue
Sleep didn’t come easy, dangling from the ceiling by iron cuffs.
No matter how Rune fought to remain calm and relaxed, there was a certain anxiety that came with lack of sleep that he wasn’t so sure he could fight.
The jailer visited him not long after Hetia departed. The man spared him the whip but made up for it with threats. Making a show of it to the guards nearby, the jailer had roped Rune’s manacled wrists together. He’d claimed he wanted to be ready for a flogging the next morning, and it was best with hands out of the way. Afterward, it had been quiet.
Rune knew the time by the sounds in the dark prison, and the enduring silence from the jailer’s post and surrounding cells meant the small hours of the morning had passed and the sun would soon rise. It was then that exhaustion sank into his bones and turned his muscles to jelly. He’d almost succumbed to it and fallen asleep when he felt her.
“You make this more difficult than it has to be.” Envesi stopped outside the bars to his cell. “Although I realize this is what our problem has always been. I intended you for such great things, but all of them depended on the idea that you could be controlled.”
He dragged himself to his feet. “Free will is a terrible thing to waste.”
“Yet you weren’t supposed to have it, and that’s one thing that’s always baffled me.” She slid a heavy iron key into the lock. The cell door groaned open. “Spirit is not an element. It cannot be manipulated or given shape. You were meant to be an empty vessel, nothing more. A soldier who could not question orders. We did not expect you would have cognitive function. You simply were. And then you were more.”
They’d never spoken of his creation beyond a bare minimum to satisfy his curiosity. His origin had always been so unsettling that he’d never delved any deeper.
Flesh was merely a composition of elements. It was easy to alter, easy to sculpt, easy to create. Their manipulations were what brought him into existence, forged of raw elements and fused with life in the first moment they made his heart beat.
He’d often wished they never had.
“A person can’t be born of nothing,” Rune replied. “You must be missing something.”
“So I thought, for many years,” Envesi said. “I studied ceaselessly after you. Even after I was evicted from my temple and sent to the Grand College, I studied. And when my power was unbound, I began to study what happened when a person passes on. I killed them in so many ways, hoping to see some sliver of a mistake, some piece of a soul that could have its course altered like the flows.”
The admission gave him chills. “And?”
“And here you are. Alive and independent. Still, despite everything I found.” She reached out to draw a talon down the center of his chest. “I made more. Did you know that? Dozens more, after you. We followed the same path precisely. There was no other way to do it, once the energy carved that route. And yet not a single one lived.”
She traced the path over his skin again, pressing harder. He winced at the way the scratch burned.
“They never drew breath,” she continued. “Empty. Yet so much worse than corpses. They were heaps of flesh that had never been, had never known life. How can something be dead if it never lived? They were foul, wrong. And then there was you. Growing, living, radiant. You were perfect in nearly every way.”
Rune chuckled darkly. “My long list of vices disagrees.”
Her claws bit deep and drew blood. “Don’t you see?” She scoffed. “Your vices are what make you perfect. You’re... human. Everything you never should have been. A punishment for my folly, the perfect device to tear down all I’d done.”
“I never wanted anything to do with your work,” he spat back. “I never wanted to do anything to you. All I ever wanted was a chance to be like everyone else.”
“And you’ll never have it.” Envesi’s pale eyes gleamed like ice in moonlight. “You are power. And you will aid me now, whether you like it or not.” She slid close, caressing his chest and stomach with both hands.
He shuddered.
“It was a good idea, the one you gave me.” She drew her hands up his sides, studying his form. “If I cannot create more like you, then I shall birth them. You will resign yourself to the fact, or it shall not be pleasant.” She dug her talons into his sides, tore gashes into the skin over his ribs and chuckled when he sucked in a hissing breath. “For you, at least.”
Evidently satisfied, she patted his cheek and slid from the cell. “The jailer will be along shortly to help you adjust to the idea. I suggest you think hard between now and then.” She pulled the door shut and the lock snapped with a final, resounding clang.
Rune closed his eyes and sank into his chains without a sound. The cuts in his sides and chest were not deep, but they stung and bled profusely. He couldn’t heal himself, but with fortune, Hetia would visit again that evening. There was little point in hoping for aid before then.
He’d be scars upon scars before this was done, but by now Hetia may have found a way to send word to the Tria
d. A day or two was all he’d have to wait for Vicamros to deliberate. If he could get free by then, the king would have made up his mind. Either Rune would find the support he needed in the Royal City, or he’d be able to turn to Kytenia and—hopefully—assemble a legion of loyal mages like Hetia, scrounged from the ranks of Ilmenhith and the temple.
Working with that kind of support from the start had been his first choice, but he was not king. For better or worse, he was still at the mercy of those above him.
The air stirred. It wasn’t visible, but every flow of energy rippled, moved, and began to divide along a central line. A Gate. Rune braced for Envesi’s return and lifted his head to watch the unseen hole in reality.
Instead of Envesi, Vahn slid from thin air to light on the filthy, bloodstained floor of Rune’s cell.
Startled, Rune grasped the chains that held his bound hands overhead and pulled himself to his feet.
When Rhyllyn slid through and the Gate closed behind him, Rune cursed.
“What are you doing here?” Rune hissed in a whisper, his eyes flashing the direction Envesi had gone only minutes before. He couldn’t feel her clearly anymore, but Rhyllyn’s Gift would light up the whole dungeon in her senses if she was paying attention.
“We came to rescue you,” Rhyllyn said.
“I don’t need to be rescued,” Rune growled.
Vahn’s eyes dropped to the rivulets of blood that flowed down Rune’s torso. “Are you sure about that?” He drew a dagger to slice the ropes, then touched the manacles with a tentative hand. “Rhyllyn, can you do something about these?”
Rhyllyn nodded and knelt to address the manacles on Rune’s feet first.
Irritated as he was, Rune didn’t move. The iron grew warm against his skin as Rhyllyn warped the locks. The manacles popped open. “You need to get out of here,” Rune whispered. “She was here just a minute ago. If she catches Rhyllyn—”
“I almost hope she does catch us,” Vahn said. “We already decided how we’ll kill her.”
“Well I hope it doesn’t include knives, because I can already tell you that doesn’t work well.” Rune lifted his feet one at a time, flexing his ankles as Rhyllyn turned his attention to the cuffs at his wrists.
“Better if we just open a Gate and get out of here,” Rhyllyn muttered.
“If you get out of here,” Rune replied. “I’m not going anywhere until my job is done. Thanks for breaking the locks and all, but now I have to figure out how to hold the rest of my plan together while the two of you leave.”
Vahn peered down the dungeon’s central hall, then glanced back. “What plan?”
“There’s a formidable number of mages still loyal to the crown here in Ilmenhith, and even more in the temple.” Rune rubbed his wrists and winced when he touched the raw places where the close-fitting iron had stripped away his scales. “If I can get in touch with them, we can organize the group I need—that I needed all along, mind you—to face her.”
Rhyllyn huffed, indignant. “How is that any different than having me help you?”
“Because whoever helps me might die,” Rune snapped. The glow of his eyes brightened and then faded almost to nothing. His heart constricted and his whole chest ached as he forced the words that didn’t want to come. “I have nothing left, Rhyllyn. Nothing but the knowledge that what I do now will keep the people I love safe. Give me that. Please.”
His brother’s face fell.
“Hear me out first,” Vahn said, glancing over his shoulder. He kept his voice low. “Let me tell you about our idea. We’re already here, maybe we should just go ahead and see it through.”
Rune looked toward the ceiling as he probed the currents of energy around them. Nothing yet. Envesi was still somewhere upstairs.
Against his better judgment, he nodded. “Make it fast.”
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Vivenne paced after Firal, bouncing Lumia in her arms and patting the girl’s back.
“It’s not a matter of what I want to do, it’s a matter of what I know they are going to do.” Firal kept a tight rein on her tongue, unwilling to snap at the woman who was the only mother she still had in her life. Minna had been the first woman to fill a motherly role, but Minna was traversing Lore on her way to the Royal City, along with all the rest of the ruin-folk.
Firal had been surprised to find Tobias among those gathered for council. In any other situation, she might have been upset to hear any group of her people had abandoned the island. Right now, it was a blessing.
“You don’t know that for certain,” Vivenne protested.
“But I know Vahn and I know Rune, and I know Rhyllyn is impressionable enough to do anything he’s told.” Firal couldn’t think of a worse trio to put together. Rune was brash enough without Vahn to egg him on, and Rhyllyn gave him the power to do anything they thought of. “Besides, if they really were just dropping in to rescue him, they’d be back by now, wouldn’t they?”
Edagan had briefed Firal on the details Vahn left out shortly after their departure. It hadn’t taken long, but it took longer than it should have taken them to free Rune from the dungeon and return to the Royal City with him in tow. Now, over an hour later, Firal had no doubts left.
“But Firal, you’ve only just gotten Lulu back. The girl needs her mother.” Vivenne stopped, only her eyes following as Firal gathered her things and changed into more serviceable clothing.
“She needs safety first and foremost, Vivenne. I trust you, and she’s safest here until this is resolved. I don’t doubt them, but if I am still queen, I owe it to my people to do this.” Leaving so soon after being reunited with her child wasn’t something Firal was eager to do, but the weight of the alternative was heavy.
Assuming Edagan was correct, the regions nearest the ruins had to be evacuated. More, if possible, but the temple and its surrounding settlements were the most urgent. A true blessing, then, that the ruins and Core were already empty.
Vivenne sighed but nodded. She shifted Lulu to her hip. “I understand, but surely you don’t need to go. So many mages are willing to help, why not send orders from here?”
That was harder to justify. Firal knew sense said she could remain in the Royal City, but she was duty driven. “I am still a mage, too. So long as my people have need of a mage, I should act as one. Besides, Vicamros won’t lend us many of his mages, which means only so many of us are able to open Gates back to the Royal City. The more of us there are, the farther we can spread out.”
Not only that, but Firal’s healing affinity made her an ideal candidate for scouting out places where people could be found. She couldn’t reach as far as someone like Kytenia, but she’d have better luck than Rikka or Anaide at detecting living people. And if the worst happened, having every skilled healer possible on the island was a safe precaution.
Tying her hair at the nape of her neck, Firal paused to look at herself in the mirror. The white mage robes she wore were foreign. She hadn’t earned them and didn’t deserve to wear them, but it was what the court mages had given her. Strangely enough, it felt right to see herself in Master white. It seemed the Royal City mages felt the same way.
“I can’t afford to wait any longer.” Firal moved to meet them, hugged Vivenne, and kissed Lulu’s rosy cheeks. “I will not be in a dangerous position, since all we’re doing is leading evacuations. If my group is threatened, we’ll return. Otherwise, I won’t be back until I’ve done all I can.”
Vivenne nodded and blinked back tears as she rocked Lulu in her arms. “Be safe.”
Firal smiled and nodded back.
She was among the last to join the mages in the Spiral Palace’s Gating parlor. Vicamros had been gracious to lend them some of his own mages to assist in evacuation, but there were also Elenhiise mages scattered through the groups. Magelings still in colored robes, mostly, but they wore looks of determination that promised they’d be useful.
The groups were carefully organized. A strong Elenhiise mage was present to lead
each party, and at least one strong Royal City mage to help return them to the Triad. Firal took her place with the group Kytenia directed her to, then studied the others.
Kytenia, Rikka, Edagan, Balen, Temar, and Anaide each headed a group. The concentration of high-ranking temple mages surprised her, seeing them all together. What surprised her more was Alira at the head of another group. A number of Elenhiise mages had been frosty toward the woman, but either that was past now, or they acknowledged the woman’s history was less important than the task at hand.
“Everyone’s been assigned outposts to attend, starting with the settlements nearest the ruins.” Kytenia pressed a piece of paper into Firal’s hand. “You’re to start in Ilmenhith. The city should be safe, since it’s on the coast, but we aren’t sure yet.”
Firal’s heart sank. “Then why send me there? Kytenia, I can help—”
“Of course you can, and that’s why you’ve got the most important job, you goose.” Kytenia playfully rolled her eyes. “Your job is to gather as many loyal mages as possible and Gate them to our groups. We’ll need them to help us. I’ve certainly never been to every village on Elenhiise, but we have mages in Ilmenhith who’ve traveled the whole island.”
Rosy spots bloomed in Firal’s cheeks. She should have known Kytenia wouldn’t spare her because of her rank. “Shouldn’t you send someone more powerful, then?” She smoothed her white robes, suddenly self-conscious of the color, though no one seemed to notice she wore it.
“Absolutely not. Don’t forget, the mages on Elenhiise are divided again.” Kytenia’s face fell as she spoke. After fighting so long and so hard to reunite the island’s mages, that had to be a blow. “It’s our mages versus hers. Mages loyal to you against those loyal to Envesi. I have no doubt she’s tried to ferret them out and deal with them, so they’re probably wary of anyone claiming to represent your side. If you’re the one looking for them, they’ve no reason not to trust us.”
Sound reasoning. And with Envesi surely distracted by Rune’s rescue, Firal wasn’t likely to be in any danger. Unless the mission had failed at the beginning. There was always the possibility the men had been captured or killed almost as soon as they’d set foot in the dungeon.
