“You know my father?” I blurted, unable to keep quiet.
I hadn’t thought the man could look paler, but in response to my question, the remaining blood drained from his cheeks. He slammed the latch bolt open and threw aside the door. Grabbing me by the arm, he yanked me into the dark of the stable. Havialo followed, glancing outside before pulling both halves of the door shut. I blinked as my eyes adjusted.
“Teppo. Listen to me. Evrain asked me to retrieve her. It’s a favor owed. Whatever else passed between us, I mean to keep my word. He wants to bring her into the cause. I don’t agree. But she is not my daughter.”
A strange look crossed Teppo’s face. Pity? Regret? “No,” he said somberly. “She’s not.”
“We need supplies,” Havialo said. “My visit to Numintown didn’t go as well as I might have hoped.”
“Then perhaps you should have left the situation alone. Let her live out her life sifting gravel and fueling the Empire’s dominance.”
Deeper into the stable, a horse snorted and stamped. The hoof strikes kicked up clouds of pulverized straw that danced in the bars of light. The air smelled of animals and oats.
“He told you about her, right?” Havialo said. “You know she wouldn’t have been safe.”
“Maybe he said something,” Teppo said, hefting a pitchfork and stabbing into a stack of hay along a wall. He lifted free a forkful and stepped across the central aisle to pitch it into a manger where a mule waited, snuffing.
I’d been standing near the wall, watching the men go back and forth. Sick of them talking about me as if I weren’t there, I pushed off the wall and stepped between the two men.
“How do you know my father? Please. All Havialo tells me is he wants to leave the explanation to him. But it will take weeks to get to Jaliss.”
“Well, there’s one thing I’ll say, considering the mage all but blurted it out already,” Teppo said. “We are part of a movement. A shared philosophy. Well, your father and I are. He—” He jabbed his thumb at Havialo. “—was once part of our cause. But then he betrayed your father’s band, which resulted in half the men and women locked in a Jaliss prison. Which makes me want to call the protectors over to deal with a rogue geognost while I take you back to Numintown. It might be boring, but at least there you’ll be safe.”
“Numintown isn’t safe. Not anymore,” Havialo said. “And about your father’s band, there are always two sides to a story. You saw the note, Savra. Evrain asked me to bring you to him, and that’s what I’ll do. With or without Teppo’s help.”
After a moment, Teppo heaved a deep sigh. “Why don’t we sit? I have to finish feeding the animals. Won’t take long.” He gestured toward the far end of the stable where four stools surrounded a low table. A single lantern cast dim light over the area.
At the thought of sitting, my feet immediately began to ache. I didn’t wait for Havialo’s response before shuffling to the table. There, I slumped onto a stool and pillowed my head on my arms.
“Bread and cheese would be good if you have some,” Havialo said on his way to join me. “The girl isn’t yet two days from being dosed with that foul registrar’s potion.”
The stableman stopped his work and laid the pitchfork aside while he stared at me. “And she walked all the way here?” he asked.
Havialo shrugged. “As tough as her father, I guess.”
“Indeed,” Teppo said, following his words with a low whistle. “Havialo, did Evrain really send you? It’s been a long time since I had word from him. I’m concerned about his Shard.”
Havialo turned, showing empty palms to the stableman. “I swear to you, Teppo. Yes, he sent me. I understand why many of you disagreed with my methods for dealing with the Empire. But I never lied to you, and I’m not lying about this either. Evrain long suspected she had the talent. He knew she’d be in great danger when she came of age. And I was the best choice to collect her.”
Stormshard. So the group was more than a rumor after all. And my father was part of it.
“So he was right about her talent...” With a sideways glance at me, Teppo picked up a metal pry rod and started working the lid off a barrel. When the wooden disk flapped up and toppled to the stable floor, he grabbed a hand-held scoop and shoveled a mound of rolled oats from the barrel.
“Wild?” he asked as he crossed the stable and leaned over a stall railing to dump the oats in a horse’s bucket.
Master Havialo shook his head. “Dormant. She can be grateful for that.”
I rolled my head to look at them. “The talent is another thing he says my father has to explain.”
Teppo froze. “She doesn’t know?”
Master Havialo sighed and sank to a seat. “If it were up to me, she’d be in the sanctuary with her mother and sister. Maybe she’d never learn what she is. But you know Evrain. Anything for the cause. I’m leaving it to him to tell her. Train her if he’s determined.”
Scooping another measure of grain, Teppo marched to a stall and poured it into a mule’s bucket. After, he dusted his hands on his pants, hung the scoop on its hook and settled the barrel’s lid into place. With a wooden mallet, he tapped the lid tight in defense against mice and weevils.
I yawned and closed my eyes.
“Wine, Havialo?” Teppo asked.
“Just food and water, thank you. We’ll need provisions for the sea crossing, but for now, shelter and a chance to recover will do.”
I cracked my eyes as Teppo moved past the table, heading for a small side door. “Stay here,” the stableman said. “There are a few around here who wouldn’t take so kindly to seeing your face. It’s one of the few things I’ve heard Sharders agree on.”
Havialo inclined his head. “Evrain used to call us the hydra. Hundreds of heads and opinions joined only by our hunger to rescue Provs from imperial tyranny. I suppose I should be honored to be so notable that I've unified Stormshard against me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Havialo.”
The door opened, a bright flare of late afternoon sun pouring into the stable. Teppo stepped outside, shading his eyes against the light. Once the latch snicked shut, Havialo jumped to his feet.
“Up! Hurry! I know you’re exhausted, Savra. And I’m terribly, terribly sorry. But we have to go. Now.”
My cheek had welded itself to the skin of my forearm. Dazed, I peeled it away, leaving a red mark on my arm.
“Wait. Why?” I asked, trying to summon the energy to stand. “He just went to get food.”
Havialo shook his head. “I give us five minutes before the protectors are on us. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but Teppo has gone snitch. He belongs to the Empire now.”
I rubbed my face as I staggered to my feet and stumbled for the split door. Havialo dashed past me, saddlebags bouncing against his ribs.
“How do you know?” I asked as Havialo fumbled at the latch bolt. Once he’d slid it aside, he snatched a broom that was leaning against the wall.
“I’ll explain later.” He lifted the saddlebags off his shoulder and held them out. “Just until we’re away from the grounds.” Hefting the broom, he seemed to be testing its balance. Did he mean to use it as a makeshift fighting staff?
The saddlebags threw me off balance, but I hitched them high onto my shoulder and limped out the door. Behind me, Havialo backed out of the stable, sweeping the ground as he went. “Run,” he hissed. “Get into the brush.”
Watching over my shoulder as I stumbled and ran, I realized he was sweeping away our tracks. Once he’d finished clearing the area around the door, he sprinted behind me, trailing the broom’s straw across the ground. When my thighs crashed into the thicket at the edge of the station’s yard, he plowed up behind me, breathless.
From the other side of the stable, I heard the first shouts.
Chapter Thirteen
Kostan
Somewhere in the Icethorn Mountains
THERE’S A STEEP track, treacherous
, that empties onto the plateau a half day’s walk from Jaliss. We can circle around. I remembered Ilishian’s words. He’d said the trail left after the gorge. But which gorge was that? The chasm between Steelhold and the Icethorns? The narrow valley I was currently following?
I’d walked without stop through the rest of the night and into the new day, yet I’d seen no hint of a trail leaving the road. The rutted track cut through the mountains, following the edge of a ravine and shaded by tall cliffs. Though the sky was a deep blue overhead, I still shivered, warmed only by the effort of walking.
Ravens circled overhead, reminding me of days on patrol with Vaness. Stone clattered as heat on the upper faces of the cliffs warmed the rock and sent pebbles spilling from the heights. At least there hadn’t been any earthquakes, though I’d crossed many rubble fields where a shake had sent stone raining down on the road.
My hand fell on the pendant hanging beneath my shirt. The Heart of the Empire, worn by rulers of Atal for centuries. As I trudged on, I wondered if I could have made a better decision. Waited for help, maybe. My stomach was an empty pit, my tongue a strip of leather. Even if I found this trail, Jaliss lay two days distant. A difficult prospect without food or water. But I’d never survive in the high mountains alone. My only hope lay in returning to the capital. Once there, I could find a place to hide. Head to the Graybranch Inn and ask for word of Azar.
Ahead, a large boulder hulked along the edge of the track. Sunlight kissed the top of the stone, promising the first warmth since Ilishian had pulled me from my bed in the middle of the night. When I reached the massive stone, I laid a hand on the rough granite. The rock’s grain was as harsh as the mountains and the Atal Empire they bounded.
I didn’t want to go on. Even if I survived this, what next? Should I hide for two years then present myself at the palace and demand to Ascend?
Maybe I should just walk away. In Anisel Province, a handful of ports traded with lands beyond the Maelstrom. It would be a long journey to reach the sea, but maybe it was the best choice. Why should I be loyal to Atal? If the Empire fell, could I really be blamed?
I scoffed at the thought. As if I could ever outrun my guilt if I left. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could make it to Anisel alive, much less earn myself passage away from this land.
Around the backside of the boulder, a series of rounded ledges provided a ladder to reach the top. I sighed in relief as the golden rays of the sun warmed my face. Yawning, I stretched out on the boulder's top. Granite crystals pressed into my back as I watched the ravens soar.
I closed my eyes, and for the first time since my audience with Emperor Tovmeil, fell asleep within moments.
***
My feet were wooden blocks, numb and clumsy. My brand was a burning hot poker shoved from my heel to my knee.
After sleeping atop the boulder, I’d woken with a savage thirst. In the Icethorns, the streams only ran during certain seasons, such as when Deepwinter gave way to Warmingtide. It was nearing Chilltide now. Stream beds held nothing but dry, silt-crusted stones.
I’d found Ilishian’s trail, at least. Or so I’d thought—the track had split off the main road not long after the narrow ravine widened out into a rubble-strewn vale. But that had been hours ago. Since turning off the road, I’d staggered through a frigid night and under a merciless sun. Another night had fallen, and I felt no closer to finding my way clear of the mountains.
In the recesses of my mind, I knew my thirst was a severe problem. During the early morning hours, I’d stumbled from shadow to shadow, licking hoarfrost from the undersides of rocks. A few, gnarled pines dipped roots deep into the mountains’ skin. I’d picked a handful of needles and chewed them, hoping to bring moisture to my mouth. Now, as I staggered through the pressing darkness, awaiting moonrise if only for the illusion of warmth in the silvery rays, I no longer had the energy to lower myself and search for moisture with my tongue.
Besides, the strange heat spreading up my leg from my brand could only mean one thing. My wound was infected.
If I didn’t find somewhere to clean it, someone to cut the bandages free and apply salve to the marks, it wouldn’t be thirst that killed me. Two generations past, a Scion had died when his servant failed—perhaps by mistake, maybe on purpose—to properly tend his wound.
Somewhere on the slopes above, rocks clattered down. Most likely, they’d been loosed by an animal. Hunting cats stalked these crags. I couldn’t bring myself to worry about that. Instead, I took another shaky step, waiting for my death or the moon or whatever lay ahead.
***
Vaness’s voice flowed, ghostly, from the stones and the air, echoing off cliffs and into my ears. “What are you doing out here?” she asked.
She appeared beside me, falling into step with my slow progress. As I turned to look at her, dizziness sent my head spinning. I stumbled, stomping down hard on my infected foot, and cried out.
“That’s not like you,” she said with a laugh. “That’s not the boy who fought on after the swordmaster had sliced to the bone on your weapon hand.”
“Why are you here?” I asked. My eyes felt hot, drawing vivid colors and details from the moonlit landscape. Beside me, Vaness scampered over jumbled stone. She wasn’t here… I knew that. I was delirious. But she felt real.
“Plus, you fled Steelhold at the first hint of a threat. That’s not your style either.”
“My style… You think you know me so well, but you’re wrong.” I glared at her, my head stuffed with wool. “What you said on patrol… it’s not true.”
“Am I? Or are you deceiving yourself? I’ve spent every day with you since we were pulled from our mother’s breasts. Perhaps your self-image is just a fantasy.” She bounded onto a boulder and smiled down at me, so sure of herself.
“I’m not wrong. When I Ascend, things will be different.”
“When you Ascend...” She sneered. “You won't even survive the night.”
“Says the girl who’s not here.”
“Look up ahead,” she said. “What are you going to do now?”
I dragged my eyes from the trail before my feet and scanned further along the valley I was descending. In perhaps two hundred paces, the moonlight shone on a cairn, a stack of rocks the marked the point where the trail split into three.
I shook my head in despair, causing a sudden headache to beat against the inside of my skull. My toe caught, and I fell, rocks cutting into my hands. Blood welled from the gashes, but there was no pain. Only the stabbing agony in my heel and the throbbing in my head registered. I tried to rise and fell backward, landing hard on my tailbone. Vaness laughed.
“Here,” she said, extending a hand.
I looked up at her face, the pert nose and twinkling eyes. A hint of mischief plucked at her features. I shook my head. I would not embarrass myself by reaching for a hallucination. With a groan, I climbed to my feet and staggered on. Time moved in fits and starts, and when I blinked, I was standing before the cairn.
“Which way?” I asked, mostly to myself.
“Originally, you left the main track by a right turn. That means the plateau is down and to your right. Then again, the trail to the right might be nothing but a sidetrack. You have no way to know.”
As Vaness spoke, she dug her toe into the trail and kicked a rock free.
“Did Azar get you out of Steelhold?” I asked while I stared at the cairn. “She promised.”
But she hadn’t, really. Ilishian had extracted no vow from her. And besides, after the catastrophe at the Chasm Gate, escape would have been very difficult. I wanted to ask Vaness whether she still lived, but I couldn’t make the words come.
“Go right, Kostan,” she urged. “You can’t know it’s the proper way. But the longer you stand here, the sooner your infection will reach your heart and mind.”
She had a good point. I took a shaky breath and stepped onto the rightmost fork in the trail. Swaying on my feet, I continued on. A few
hundred paces along the path, I started to shiver and sweat at the same time.
***
Vaness was gone. I didn’t know where. I could scarcely lift my head; most of the time my chin rested on my chest. The trail seemed fainter now, but maybe that was my imagination. The route was ascending, winding between outcroppings toward a high ridge. In the recesses of my mind, I knew these were bad signs. Jaliss was downhill. But I’d come too far to turn around. I’d collapse before I made it back to the fork. And so I pushed on.
Through what seemed like cotton shoved into my ears, I heard more rocks clattering. Distantly, I wondered if the stories about bandits were true. Right now, even thieves would be a welcome sight. I might convince them I’d have value if ransomed. Or maybe they'd just end this quickly.
My shin hit a rock. I threw my arms forward to stop my fall, but not fast enough. My elbow cracked the ground, followed by my head.
More sounds filled the narrow valley, pebbles clicking as they fell, gravel crunching. Footsteps.
I couldn’t bring myself to care. It had to be thieves; a hunting cat would never raise such a racket. When a shadow blocked the moon, I rolled my head, skull loose on my spine. As I squinted up, I wished I’d thought to bring something worth stealing. I didn’t like the thought of the bandits being angry at me for failing them.
I blinked, attempting to see the thief’s face.
When I spotted the insignia of an imperial protector on the man’s uniform, I simply closed my eyes again. They’d found me. At least I might learn what had happened to Vaness before they killed me.
Chapter Fourteen
Savra
Crashing through brush outside Dukket Waystation
A HUNDRED PACES into the brush, Havialo shoved the broom beneath a thick tangle of undergrowth. He snatched the saddlebags off my shoulder and pushed into the lead. Back at the waystation, men and women shouted. Branches broke as someone crashed into the thicket, but the sound was distant.
Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1) Page 8
