When she had studied with him, it wasn’t pattern memorization like everything else had been. Imogen had learned every other pattern rapidly, easily, forcing her body to manage everything she had been taught. When studying the sacred patterns, she had not been able to do so nearly as easily. Each time she thought she had understanding, Master Liu had demonstrated her ignorance over and over again.
As she focused, she could feel some great energy beyond her, and she opened her eyes. Something had changed.
She headed to the edge of the space where they had been, and her skin grew tight.
Sorcery.
She looked around, but she didn’t see any sign of a sorcerer. With her sword unsheathed, she breathed, ready.
Every part of her being was prepared for the possibility of an attack. If she felt even the beginning of a spell, she would disrupt it. It would be a simple thing for her, and Imogen was ready for all she might need to do to bring down any magical pattern that was there. But she didn’t feel anything more than the tightness of her skin.
If there was sorcery, she had no idea where it was or how to find it.
And she wasn’t about to leave.
The air had shifted, no longer gusting the way it had. It was almost as if everything around her had become quiet and completely still. Within that solitude, Imogen stood near the fire. She stared into the distance, looking out into the darkness at shifting shadows. At first, it seemed as though the shadows flickered in time with the way the firelight swayed and danced, but over time, she realized that wasn’t the case at all.
There was something separate out there. Something unnatural.
Imogen waited. Then she saw another flicker.
She darted forward, unsheathing her blade in a heartbeat, driving forward like a bolt of lightning in a storm. She called on power, using the various patterns to help her drive forward and find her way.
As she lunged, there was a crackling sound, then an explosion.
She struck something, and she froze.
It was not that she could not move. Imogen had had that experience before, and she had been around sorcerers who had the ability to freeze her in place, keeping her from moving at all. But this was something else. Something different.
She felt as if the energy in the air had suddenly faded, and now the wind gusted again. It carried a hint of heat that mingled with the cold, a strange eddy of currents that mixed together. An odor drifted on the wind as well, one she could not quite place.
“What are you doing?”
She turned to see Timo sitting upright, the light of the flames dancing off his face. Was the darkness in his eyes the same as she had seen before? She could no longer tell. All she knew was that there was something in his expression, something similar to what she had seen in the past that she thought she needed to understand.
“I thought I saw something,” she said, drifting back, though she sheathed her sword.
“I don’t know what it was, only that there was something here.”
He watched her and shifted in place, staring at the fire. “I don’t like this,” he said.
She smiled to herself. “I know you don’t.”
“It’s not any of that. It’s…” He looked over to Benji before turning his attention back to Imogen. “You seem so comfortable with all of this.”
“Why does it bother you?”
“Because you were something different before,” he said. “Before you left, that is.”
Imogen came closer to the fire, standing near enough that she could see her brother clearly. She noticed the tension in his shoulders and the way he looked up at her, almost as if he was upset, though that couldn’t be it. It was more a matter of him not quite knowing what to do or say, she suspected.
“You chased a sorcerer for many years,” she said.
Timo nodded. “I did. I know how something can occupy your thoughts, compel you to take action that you don’t necessarily need to.”
Imogen was tempted to argue with him, but she simply said nothing. She sensed that any argument she might make would only fall on deaf ears. He was the one she was worried about. Despite that, he made it seem as if he was concerned about her instead.
“I just want you to join me in this,” Timo said.
He had said that to her in the past, and much like before, there was a pleading note in his voice that made it seem as though he was trying to beg her to help him with something more than just the sorcery.
“I don’t need you to assign me a bond quest,” she said carefully.
“Once we find the Sul’toral, you’ll understand.”
She watched him. “What do you mean?”
Timo glanced over to Benji and nodded to him. “You’ll understand why that is more dangerous than you realize.”
“He can help. Our people believe—”
“I know what we believe,” Timo snapped.
Imogen bit back what she wanted to say. Instead, she leaned toward her brother. “Dheleus wasn’t your bond quest.”
“No. He was not. But as I followed my bond quest, I realized I could do other things in service of our people.” He shrugged. “What does it matter, so long as there are fewer sorcerers?” A dangerous grin crossed his face.
“Which is why you decided to do other things?”
“It’s not as if we expanded our hunt,” he said. “It’s more that we decided to turn our quest beyond our initial search. We thought it necessary and right, and we thought that…” He shook his head. “I suppose we thought that was what any First of the Blade would have done. If you feel as if we need to go with him, my bond quest will carry me along. And we will see what is out there. We will see if we can find Dheleus. And if we do…”
She nodded. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, or whether she was willing to go as far as what she thought would be necessary, but perhaps they had to. In this case, perhaps they didn’t have much choice in the matter.
“I am concerned about what will happen when we face the Sul’toral,” she said.
“I’m less concerned about that than I am about following the Porapeth,” he replied.
Imogen shook her head and laughed. “You have to stop fearing magic.”
“I don’t fear it. I have a desire to destroy it. We don’t need him in order to find Dheleus.”
“Just because the Toral told you—”
“He didn’t just tell me.” Timo said, his voice soft and angry. “He had this.” He pulled a small metal enchantment from his pocket. The circular object was covered in runes.
So that was how he was following Dheleus.
“I will find him,” Timo said between gritted teeth.
Imogen didn’t know what to say. It didn’t seem as if there was anything for her to say. Her brother’s anger left her unsettled.
But it was more than just that.
It was knowing the source of his anger. Had she not left her people, that could be her. Imogen held her brother’s gaze for a moment, then she looked at the fire and said nothing.
Chapter Sixteen
“It’s not far from here. At least, not that I can feel,” Benji said, pausing on the road.
He crouched down, tracing his hand just above the surface of the hard, packed earth, and he flicked his silver gaze up to the trees. When he did, it seemed to Imogen that there was a strange sort of energy that came from him, though not one she could fully determine.
“You wouldn’t tell us what you feel, anyway, would you?” Timo said. He glowered at Benji, as he had been this whole time.
Imogen had made a point of walking in between Benji and Timo, wanting to prevent the two of them from bickering. It was like separating two children, though the Porapeth had to be impossibly old. As far as she knew, they lived nearly as long as the El’aras did.
“You want to chase the Sul’toral, and I’m helping.” Benji got to his feet, and he strode along the path and headed east.
Timo grabbed Imogen’s arm, forcing her to turn to look
at him. “We don’t need to keep going with him.”
“It’s not that we have to,” she said, watching as Benji disappeared around a bend in the road. “It’s more that I think he can guide us.”
“You are letting yourself get drawn into his plans.”
“Why—” She cut herself off. She was about to ask him why he even cared, but she knew better.
Timo hated magic. Like so many of their people, he had grown not only to distrust it but also to actually despise it.
They hadn’t seen any further evidence of the adlet, but Imogen wasn’t completely convinced that the creatures were gone. It was possible there were others. They had found the mark of Dheleus, and she kept anticipating that they would come across other signs of him. More creatures, or worst of all, Toral.
“I think we need to go north,” Timo said.
Imogen shook her head. “There isn’t anything north.”
The path they were on guided them to the forest. She suspected, but didn’t know with any certainty, that they were heading toward another village. When she had been in the last one, they had spoken of several other villages along the road. Eventually, they would reach the mountains. Imogen hoped that she could keep her brother with her long enough to reach the outer edge of her homeland. From there she intended to show him that he didn’t have to continue on this bond quest. He needed to know if he’d defeated L’aran, but there had to be a better way of doing that. She didn’t know if the Sul’toral was gone, but they both had seen his defeat. That should be enough for Timo to return home.
It went unsaid whether it was enough for her to return.
“When we were traveling, there were stories about the marsh,” Timo said.
She arched a brow at him. “Now you want to listen to those stories?”
“Not the kind you heard in the village, where they were worried about fog and the dead coming back to life, but the kinds of stories where there was power. Those types of stories have something to them. You know they do, just as well as I do.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t mean she wanted to chase a Sul’toral. Not with just the two of them.
But Timo felt differently.
“I’m just telling you what I heard,” he said. “North. Everything seems to be taking us that way.”
Imogen knew there wasn’t much in the north. Even if there was, she didn’t think it was worthwhile to traverse the swamp, not even to chase after a Sul’toral.
“We will stay with Benji,” she stated firmly.
Timo looked as if he wanted to argue, but he said nothing. He followed her and Benji as they made their way along the road, his hand hovering above the hilt of his sword. As they neared the next village, the forest opened up, as if the village had been carved out of it. A stream ran along the western edge of the village, which was surrounded by a low rock wall that would not keep out an adlet.
Benji paused at the wall, running his hand along it, his silver eyes seeming to grow darker as he did. He traced what Imogen could only think of as a pattern, though it was not the same kind she used for her sword skills.
“Would you stop petting the stone?” Timo said, glowering at Benji.
“I’m trying to see if the village has any experience with this Sul’toral you’ve been chasing.” He held Timo’s gaze for a moment. There was almost a sense of playfulness in Benji’s eyes, but then he looked away, as if he resisted the urge to say something more.
What hadn’t Benji said?
“I thought the Porapeth just saw things. Isn’t that what you claim?” Timo retorted.
Benji smiled at him. “Do you want to know what I claim, or what others claim?”
“You aren’t going to get me to say anything.”
“Am I not? Do you think I haven’t discovered anything about you? I’ve traveled quite a bit, much like I believe you have. Do you think there are no stories of your passing through?”
Imogen glanced between them. “What stories of his passing?” she asked the Porapeth.
“He hasn’t heard anything,” Timo said quickly. “We’ve been chasing sorcerers like I told you.”
Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you had no difficulty destroying them, did you?”
“No,” Timo said.
“How many did you hunt?” Imogen asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Benji let out a sarcastic laugh. “Doesn’t it? You became the Scourge.”
Imogen frowned, looking over to her brother.
“It’s nothing but a nickname,” Timo said, shaking his head. “One intended to make them fear us.”
“Make who fear you?” she asked, but her brother didn’t answer.
Benji held Timo’s gaze with his silver eyes. “And did it work?”
“Yes,” Timo said. “And what do you fear?”
“Not much. Losing my ability to see. These days, unfortunately, that has been too common for me. I suppose I would also say I fear not existing.”
Timo smirked. “You mean dying?”
“Is death the same as not existing?” Benji the Elder asked.
“Death is death. After you die, there is nothing.”
Benji snorted, waving his hand toward a fallen log in the forest. “After you die, there is a different existence. That is what it is. And then it is gone and there is something else. And then something else. All of it is change that brings you to a different place.”
Timo glowered at him.
“But some people fear so much that they become something they should not be,” Benji said.
Imogen frowned. Was that his way of commenting on what she had done? Leaving her people had changed her. But maybe he wasn’t talking about her—she didn’t know. It seemed as if he was looking at Timo, not at her.
“And some fear death so greatly that they look for a way beyond,” Benji said.
Timo looked up, holding his gaze. “There is no way past death. Only greater life.” He started forward, heading through the gap in the wall, into the village.
Imogen watched him go, shaking her head. “You know something more about him.”
“I know many things,” Benji said. “But he doesn’t want to talk.”
“Because you keep antagonizing him.”
“Do you think that’s the reason he doesn’t want to talk?”
She knew it wasn’t. This was Timo, after all, and she had enough experience with her brother to know that whatever else was going on had a deeper meaning and a deeper issue than what she had seen. But she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Benji might know.
“You’re keeping something from me,” she said.
Benji chuckled. “I wish it were only so simple.”
He started forward into the village, and Imogen followed. The Porapeth was quiet, but every so often, he would pause and tap the ground as if he were listening to something only he could hear.
She wondered what—and why. There were so few stories about the Porapeth that Imogen was left with many questions.
Benji wandered in another direction, and Imogen trailed after Timo, finding him in a small tavern. She wasn’t surprised that there would be a tavern in a village like this. Of course there would be. This was a place that travelers would pass through. They would have nowhere else really to stop. Unless they lived here, they would need a place to stay.
The barkeep was a younger man, with long, lanky black hair and eyes that darted around. There were only two other people in the tavern, and they were tucked into the far corner, nursing mugs of ale while saying nothing to each other. Timo had taken a seat at the long bar, and he was leaning forward with his elbows resting on the counter.
Imogen sat next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
The barkeep came over, wiping his hands on his towel before looking at both of them carefully. “Where are you coming from?”
“West,” Imogen said.
“Not many coming from those parts these days. Ty
pically, they come from the east and make their way west.”
“We’ve already come out of the east,” Timo said.
The barkeep paused, sizing him up. “I can see that. You have the look of them.”
“Of them?” Timo asked. His tone was hard, irritable.
Imogen rested a hand on his arm.
The barkeep took a step back, and he shrugged. “I don’t mean anything by it. Just saying that you have the look of them. I’ve seen it.”
Imogen nodded. “Any news of the road you can share?”
The barkeep’s gaze flicked past her to the two people sitting in the corner. “Some. No one travels these days.”
She stiffened, watching him. “Any reason why not?”
“Not anything you would believe.”
She forced a smile. “You could try me.”
The man snorted. He rested the towel on the counter, grabbed two glasses, and tipped them up. “What will you be drinking?”
“I don’t suppose you have cider,” Imogen said.
The barkeep nodded once, and he turned and poured her a glass from a small barrel. “Not much left. We used to get merchants through here all the time, but it has been a while. I suppose I can start selling the pine cider that old Jarvis makes himself in town, but a person could go blind drinking something like that. Or worse.”
Imogen chuckled as he slid the glass in front of her. She brought it up and sniffed it. “Is it any good?”
“You’re getting the last of the barrel, so I’m not going to tell you it’s the best cider ever sold, but it certainly isn’t the worst. And you won’t be getting any for a while. Not much east of here for several days, if that’s where you’re traveling. I assume you’re going by foot. Not too many wagons come through here, unless they are built for the forest, that is.”
Imogen nodded. “On foot.”
Had Timo not had the same objections, she would have used one of the enchantments she had brought with her, but it would only anger him.
“Best get a good meal and some sleep. I got a room I can rent you. And I can sell you some provisions. Won’t be needing them myself.”
Unbonded (First of the Blade Book 1) Page 16
