by R S Penney
“Sometimes,” she began, “Sometimes, it's hard to acknowledge the failings in those we love.”
Tommy grunted.
The sound of an approaching rider was followed by Marcus galloping up on his gray and then pulling the beast to a stop in front of them. “The road is empty for at least three miles ahead of us. No ships on the water.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Desa said.
Miri tossed her head back and rolled her eyes. Her brother wore the mantle of the watchful protector with such dedication that it was almost a cliché. Sometimes, she wanted to punch his fool face.
“Bendarian is still ahead of us,” Adele said. “By twenty miles at least. Maybe more. I can't say.”
Tommy growled, and Miri looked back to see the lad gritting his teeth and shaking his head. “We ride from sunup to sundown and the man keeps gaining ground on us,” he spat. “How is that possible?”
“Black magic?” Miri suggested.
“It's not magic,” Desa said automatically. “But I think you have the right of it, Miri. When we fought in that warehouse, he just disappeared. I thought perhaps the power had consumed him, but it seems he has become capable of instantaneous travel.”
“If that's true,” Tommy put in, “then why not go directly to his destination. Why waste time with riding...or walking...or whatever he's doing?”
Desa hunched over in the saddle, exhaling forcefully and shaking her head. “I don't know,” she lamented. “Perhaps he can't. The Nether seems to be chaos made manifest. It may be that the only way to control it is to restrict the scope of each feat he performs.”
They continued on in silence for a while.
Miri found herself wishing that she could be elsewhere, perhaps on a ship headed downriver, far away from Bendarian. She had only been a girl when his experiments with Field Binding had killed a dozen people and driven twice as many mad. Any ambition she might have felt to find the ether for herself had vanished that day.
But if Desa Nin Leean was correct, then the fate of the world itself depended on them stopping Bendarian from doing whatever he intended to do. Well, she would do her part, but she didn't have to like it.
Right then, she was most worried about the young man who shared a saddle with her. Tommy was holding himself together well enough, but it was clear that Sebastian's death had rattled him...and though she couldn't be certain, Miri had a sinking suspicion that Desa was to blame somehow.
It wasn't anything she could pinpoint, but the woman was remarkably tight-lipped whenever the subject came up. If Desa had taken the young man's life, it would be best for everyone if she simply told Tommy. Miri didn't want to see what would happen if he found out on his own. She would have to keep his spirits up.
And she could think of several ways she might do that.
Tommy knelt in the grass by a steaming pot of chicken stew he had heated with one of Marcus's Infused coins. Preparing it had used up most of their supplies, but they would all eat well tonight. The scent alone was worth it in Tommy's estimation.
The small disk of light that Desa's ring projected over the grass offered very little visibility, but he could make out his four companions all standing around and waiting for a good meal. It was nearly an hour past sundown; they had ridden all day, and they were all very hungry.
Desa was at the edge of the light, tending to Midnight, gently brushing the horse's mane. Even at this distance, Tommy could hear the soft sounds of her murmurs, but she was too far off for him to make out anything specific.
With his hands shoved into the pockets of his duster, Marcus paced a line back and forth through the grass. The look of concentration on his face made it clear that he did not want to be disturbed.
Then there was Adele.
The mayor's niece sat in the grass with her legs drawn up against her chest, hugging her knees and gazing out upon the river. A light breeze made her long golden hair flutter. Tommy had tried more than once to engage her in conversation, and he had received only scorn for his trouble. In fact, the only one who wanted to talk to him was Miri. Marcus had no love for him, and Desa had been avoiding him since Ofalla.
Closing his eyes, Tommy leaned forward to inhale the aroma of stew. Warm steam caressed his face and left a dampness on his skin. “I think it's ready!” he called out. “We should probably eat.”
Marcus was the first one to strut over and extend his hand with all the arrogance of a king who simply expected a servant to fetch his wine. Tommy ladled stew into one of the small pewter bowls that Miri carried in her pack.
Adele came next, and she at least had the decency to mutter thanks before she took her bowl and went off to sit quietly by herself.
“It smells delicious, Tommy,” Desa said as she approached.
He looked up at her with a great big grin and let out a trill of nervous laughter. “I certainly hope so, ma'am,” he replied. “I learned to make it for my dad back before they put me in a jail cell.”
When he filled her bowl, Desa offered a curt nod of thanks, then turned her back on him and made her way down to the riverbank. Perhaps she wanted to be alone as well. Or perhaps she was just trying to avoid Adele. Any fool could see that those two were falling for each other, and Tommy wished they would just hurry up and admit it already. It would do wonders to ease the tension of this long journey westward. He was also hoping that Desa would resume guiding him in his meditations.
Miri came over to sit with him, and when he handed her a bowl, she offered a smile and a pat on his leg. “You did a good job.” She lifted a spoonful of chicken to her mouth, then closed her eyes as she savoured the taste.
“Glad you like it.”
“I do.”
“How are you?”
Tossing his head back, Tommy blinked several times as he pondered the question. “I suppose I'm all right.” The fatigue in his voice was surprising even to him. “The more that I think about it, the more I realize Sebastian was destined to come to a bad end.”
Miri frowned but nodded slowly as if his answer were a foregone conclusion. “That doesn't make it any easier,” she said. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry.”
“You didn't kill him.”
“No...I didn't.”
Something in her tone caught Tommy's attention, and when he looked, he found her staring wistfully toward the river. Now, what was all that about? He knew that Miri had followed Sebastian to Bendarian's townhouse. He knew that she had caught Sebastian in the act of his betrayal, but...she wouldn't have done something to him, would she?
Tommy was no fool; he had seen the woman brandish throwing knives and use them with deadly skill. Might she have harmed Sebastian, and if so, could he really trust her, knowing that she had-
“No, Lommy,” she said. “I didn't kill your lover.”
Tommy felt his mouth drop open, then shook his head with enough force to make himself dizzy. “How...” He had to resist the urge to scramble backward to get away from her. “Can you read minds?”
“I am Ka'adri,” she explained. “We are trained in the art of observation. The Synod sends us out into the world to watch and to report what we see. Aladar is strong, but we are only one small nation. If the others chose to invade...”
“I see...Why are you telling me this?”
Miri shuffled a little closer to him, close enough that her arm touched his, and when she gazed intently into his eyes, Tommy felt very nervous. “Because,” she said. “To gain trust, you must offer trust. And I want you to trust me.”
“Well...That was something.”
Having discarded her coat, Desa stood by the river in pants and a simple work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The sound of the Vinrella rushing past was almost soothing. In the last few days, they had seen two ships sail past, both heading eastward toward Ofalla, but at night, the river was always quiet.
The sound of footsteps alerted her to Marcus's arrival. The man was good – only a trained ear would notice his approach – but he had never been able to sne
ak up on her. She suspected that he kept trying just to prove he could.
“The girl is a liability,” he said. “Send her back to Ofalla.”
Closing her eyes, Desa breathed in slowly. “You think I haven't tried?” she asked, spinning around to face him. “Adele is determined to follow us. So, unless you want me to resort to violence...”
With his back to the light cast by her ring, Marcus was just a shadow to her eyes, but she could tell that he was scowling. “Perhaps you should,” he replied. “It would drive the message home.”
“Blunt as ever,” she said, stepping up to him. “I really must admire your singularity of purpose.”
“You have feelings for the girl.”
“Of course I do,” she snapped. “But if you think that's why I allow her to remain, you are sadly mistaken. I know next to nothing about Adele Delarac except that her talent for manipulating the Ether is beyond anything I have seen before. If she is indeed one of Bendarian's agents, I would rather keep an eye on her.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched on while Marcus considered what she had said. Had the man always been this difficult? They had learned Field Binding together, though Desa had picked it up faster. She could remember his gruffness, but the truth was that she had spared little thought for Marcus in those days, and – so far as she knew, anyway – he had spared even less for her.
There had never been much in the way of affection between them. They respected each other, but they had never been friends. And the thought of anything beyond that was laughable. Even if Desa had fancied men, she would not have fancied him. “Perhaps you are right,” he said at last.
“I'm glad you agree.”
He raised a single finger as if to warn her that the consensus between them was quite fragile. “But,” he said, “if I become convinced that she is a threat to us, I will kill her myself.”
Hearing that hurt more than Desa would have liked, but she schooled her face and nodded. “I would expect nothing less.”
Chapter 19
The overcast sky was fading from gray to blue when they finally stopped after the end of another long day in the saddle. Across the dark waters of the Vinrella, Desa saw a town of wooden buildings sprawling haphazardly along the opposite shore, and behind it, a forest of conifers that dwarfed every one of the small houses.
The lamps were lit, and she could even make out a few people walking along the street closest to the northern riverbank. A large wooden ferry was moored in the marina, but there was little chance that anyone would be coming across at this hour.
Her little group stood on the southern shore, near a second dock for the ferry, all staring wistfully across the river to the town on the other side. Thrasa was an odd village; cramped between a forest on one side and the Vinrella on the other, it spread out along the shoreline in an almost crescent-shaped pattern.
Adele took a few steps toward the water's edge, inclined her chin and then sniffed disdainfully. “We should continue westward,” she said. “I've watched Bendarian through the Ether, and I can promise you that he isn't in that town.”
Her suggestion produced a growl from Marcus. The man showed his teeth as he came forward and shook his head. “Fool of a girl,” he spat. “And where do you suppose we'll find supplies if we don't stop here?”
Adele coloured and lowered her eyes. Desa felt very little in the way of sympathy. The other woman's suggestion was rather foolish; in fact, it almost seemed designed to leave them stranded in the wilderness without food or ammunition. Resisting the urge to glare at Adele took some effort.
Tommy stood a way back from the riverbank with the bridle of his father's horse in hand. A frown betrayed his unease. “How are we supposed to get across?” he asked. “We might have to wait until tomorrow.”
“And lose another day,” Marcus grumbled.
In answer to the young man's question, Desa raised a closed fist toward the distant town and pulsed the Light-Source in her ring. She let it flicker again and again at full intensity. That should get someone's attention.
Of course, she had to stand there for about ten minutes before she noticed two men standing on the opposite shore and pointing at her. Her arm was getting tired. How long before they sent someone across to investigate?
Tommy chose that moment to step up beside her and frown thoughtfully at her attempt to signal the townsfolk. “That's clever,” he said. “Um...Mrs. Kin-Uh...Desa. Do you still intend to teach me Field Binding?”
“I will teach you,” she muttered.
“I see.”
No doubt he was hoping for some clarification as to why she had been avoiding him since they left Ofalla. How on Earth did she tell him that it was because she was the one who had killed his lover? Another problem that she had hoped to evade for at least a little while longer.
When she didn't offer any further explanation, Tommy turned away and walked back to the horses, muttering to himself. Desa clicked her tongue. She would have to deal with that soon, before she lost every shred of the young man's trust.
At last, she saw a team of men releasing the ferry from its mooring cables. It wasn't long before the large wooden craft was drifting across the river toward them. About time. The last bit of twilight was fading from the sky. Desa kept pulsing her ring. If she stopped now, they might turn back.
Finally, she heard the shouts and grunts of men working the oars as the Ferry pulled up to the dock. A man on the deck approached the railing with a lantern in hand. This one was short and spindly with a wrinkly face and white hair that poked out from underneath his top hat. “What's this then?” he shouted.
Desa approached the dock, craning her neck to squint up at him. “My friends and I would like to request passage across the river,” she said. “Do forgive us for our sudden arrival at this late hour.”
The boat's captain – at least, that was what she assumed he was – was none too pleased by her answer. He shook his head and then leaned over the railing to glare at her. “And what of that blinking light?”
She lifted her hand and triggered the Source within her ring, causing it to glow with intense light. The captain, though visible to her in the lantern light, now looked as though he were standing under the noonday sun. “The gift of Aladar,” Desa said. “Which I will offer to you in exchange for passage. In addition to whatever money we can spare.”
“Rings that glow?”
“That and much more.” It pleased her to see that he was genuinely curious about Field Binding. True, many people called it witchcraft – and some even went so far as to run her out of town – but there were a few with enough wits to realize that a thing wasn't evil simply because they did not understand it. “Will you give us passage?”
The man bit his lip as he considered it, then nodded slowly. “Very well then,” he said at last. In the blink of an eye, he was turning his back on her and barking orders at his crew. “Palmer! Fromm! Get the plank extended! And be quick about it, damn you! I have enough trouble with Elsa as it is, going across at this hour, and the Almighty take me for a liar, I won't have her fretting long into the night just because you louts decided to lollygag!”
A short while later, she was standing at the prow of the ship and watching as the orange lights of Thrasa crept closer and closer. The sounds of men grunting and a few muttered curses filled her ears, but she ignored them. Her mind was focused on how to tell Tommy the truth of what she had done...and she had no answer.
Footsteps drew her out of her reverie.
She turned around to find Captain Rufus Sharp – that was what the man called himself – stomping toward her with a grimace that could shatter rocks into sand. “Idiots, the lot of them.”
Pursing her lips, Desa studied the man for a long moment. “You don't seem to think much of your crew,” she said, her eyebrows climbing. “Forgive me, Captain, but it does not inspire confidence.”
The man replied with a mocking smile and a shake of his head. “Confidence,” he said, stepping up to the r
ailing. He braced his hands upon it and bent forward to peer into the darkness. “Half my men wish that I had left you and yours on the riverbank. And the other half think I should have shot you.”
Desa spun to stand beside him with her hands clasped behind her back, breathing deeply to soothe her agitation. “I see,” she said at last. “Then I suppose I must thank you for your forbearance.”
“I am not a fool, woman,” he muttered. “Nor am I some sad country bumpkin who never passed beyond the borders of his little village. I have sailed many waters before age humbled me.”
He turned his head to regard her with a pinched expression, then nodded once. “I have seen marvels,” he went on. “And the inventions of the Aladri were not least among them. I know they are not magic.”
“Then you are wiser than most.”
“But now I must beg your forgiveness, madam,” he said. “And ask that you explain how that ring of yours works.”
She felt her lips curl into a small smile, then lowered her eyes to the deck under her feet. “It draws energy from the Ether,” she explained. “I can make several for you before we arrive in Thrasa, but you will have to learn to touch the Ether yourself if you wish to replenish them after their energy is expended.”
The captain crossed his arms, took one step back and then shook his head. “I don't suppose that this is something you can teach before we reach the northern shore.” He must have noticed something in her face because he stifled a grimace and then turned his head to stare out on the water. “No...I thought not.”
“It takes years of practice.”
“As I suspected.”
“But I can teach you the basics,” Desa quickly added. If she had her way, she would teach Field Binding to every last man, woman and child on this continent. Sweet Mercy, they might need it if Bendarian unleashed the Nether upon this world.“Now, perhaps you should give me the objects you wish to have Infused. I will need a few moments of quiet to complete the task.”
