Essence of Chaos

by Marie Andreas

  Ghortin frowned. “I don’t think I like the idea of my body splitting up like that. However, I admit it makes sense. I’ll have to give it more thought.” He shook himself and forced a tight smile. “Now, about this front page.” He held open the book to show them.

  The inside was ash gray, and in it was a detailed drawing of three people holding hands together. In their center was a glowing light, one so bright no form could be seen within it. For some reason Jenna knew there was a fourth person in there. The three figures surrounding it were representatives of the three species.

  Underneath, in an ancient flowing script that she could barely make out, it read:

  “With the three that are one, the one who is three will have Power against all and will be the link between the worlds.”

  “Three that are one?” A thought hit Jenna. “Like that trio we came across yesterday?” Her stomach made a few unsettled flips.

  “You might be right, this could be a warning against them, or more like them,” Ghortin began his usual pacing. “Or something else entirely.”

  Keanin looked at them perplexedly. “I could have sworn that you said we destroyed that trio, so why are you two looking so concerned?”

  “If they could link like that, then they have the ability to form others.” Ghortin increased his pacing. “Actually, they already have. Those three that you fought in Irundail were of the same ilk, if my sense of that night is true.”

  “Why wasn’t I ever taught to link like that? Is it something forbidden?” Jenna could still feel the immense amounts of Power the triad had been able to pull. It was terrifying, but also seductive.

  “Not forbidden, just unheard of. I’ve never heard of two mages working like you two did yesterday, let alone three. Which reminds me—”

  “Don’t tell me you were making plans without including us?” The voice from the other side of the tent flap was weak, but there was no doubting it belonged to a king.

  A second later, Storm’s hand came through, holding back the flap as he helped his father enter.

  Ghortin’s surprise at the king’s appearance showed on his face, but he quickly recovered and motioned for Storm to set his father down on the small cot.

  “Daylin, you stubborn scoundrel. Why aren’t you still in bed? We aren’t going anywhere right now, and you know it.”

  A brief spasm of pain flashed across the king’s handsome features, followed by a look of grim resolve. “I can’t waste time, and neither can you. We have to go after the mage behind this; he mustn’t complete whatever he’s doing in the Markare.”

  Jenna started to tell the king about the portal, but something in Ghortin’s face made her hold her tongue. There was a concern there that looked like more than just worry over the king’s health.

  “Now, I’ll agree we can’t let this maniac go, but we don’t have the personnel to mount a desert campaign right now—we lost too many yesterday through death or injury. You, of all people, should realize that,” Ghortin said.

  The king’s hands tightened at his sides. “We haven’t a choice. What have my people changed into in my absence that they would be afraid to sacrifice themselves for the safety of their kingdom? We must strike now, before he realizes what we are doing.”

  Storm watched his father carefully. “I think Ghortin is right, Father, we need more people; and the mages are mostly dead or injured. Resstlin needs to know what’s gone on.”

  The king was silent for a moment, then went on as if neither of them had spoken. “Here’s my plan. Ghortin, you lead Crell’s fighters around through the Dorga Pass. My boy here and I will lead the rest straight through to—”

  Ghortin grabbed the king’s hand. “What in the stars has become of you? Didn’t you hear anything we’ve said? We can’t go in there like this. Give us a week; we could mount a hasty attack if I can contact someone in Lithunane.”

  “I have spoken. We ride tomorrow morning. I will give you instructions then.” Ignoring the looks of disbelief and worry on the faces around him, King Daylin imperiously stood up and grabbed Storm’s shoulder. “I will be making plans in my tent, if any of you feel like coming to reason.”

  Storm looked as shaken as everyone else as he wordlessly helped his father out of the tent. The remaining three all looked at each other in stunned silence.

  “He can’t be serious.” It was Keanin’s subdued voice that finally broke the silence.

  “Maybe he knows something we don’t?” Jenna ventured quietly. “After all, he was with them for a few months.”

  Ghortin shook his head, his dark eyes unfathomable. “I don’t think so, or he would have told us. Besides, regardless of what he knows, it would be suicide to go in so weak and ill-prepared.” He turned toward Keanin. “I want you to go find Kern, tell him I order a guard put on the king at all times. No questions. Tell him I fear magical tampering.”

  Keanin grimly nodded, then was gone.

  “Do you think that’s not the king?” Jenna wondered how she was staying so calm about this. She hadn’t been sure what would happen once they rescued the king, but she was certain this wasn’t it.

  “No, it’s the king of Traanafaeren, I’m afraid it may not be our King Daylin.” Ghortin shook himself off, and then held up his hands. “No time to waste. Until Keanin gets back, we’ll work on your sight of Power on this plane.”

  Jenna let out a small sigh. It was going to be a long and tedious day. With any luck, tomorrow would be one as well.

  They’d gone away from the tents and had been working on her efforts to see Power on this plane for most of the afternoon. She didn’t feel like she was making much progress, but Ghortin kept pushing at her.

  By the time they were interrupted by a soft cough behind them, Jenna was seeing colors everywhere except for where they should be.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Edgar said as he studiously ignored Ghortin’s annoyance at being disturbed, “but the king is still convinced that we’re leaving tomorrow. Corin’s trying to talk some sense into him, but it’s having no effect.”

  “Tell him to give up.” Ghortin’s stomach gave an involuntary rumble as the first whiff of dinner from the main fire wafted over them. “In fact, if you two would be so good as to retrieve our prince and that missing young peacock, we could meet back in my tent. And find someone to bring us some supper as well; I fear we may be in there for quite a while.”

  A short while later they’d gathered in Ghortin’s tent and were just beginning to discuss the day’s events when Marta appeared, bearing food. One of her fellow guardsmen was helping her.

  “I hope this will be enough. We hadn’t realized Keanin was here as well.” She gave him an odd look, and then quickly turned back to the food.

  Ghortin glanced briefly at the food. “Yes, that should do nicely. Thank you,” he pointedly added when the guardswoman didn’t immediately depart.

  Jenna lunged for a juicy leg of bird before the tent flap closed. The others, with Ghortin trying to maintain order, were right behind her.

  39

  Violent tremors shook Jenna out of a deep sleep. Forcing herself to stay calm, she opened her eyes to figure out where the safest place in a tent during an earthquake was. She was more than a little surprised to find that Ghortin, rather than an earthquake, was responsible for her shaking.

  “Wha-I’m awake. Stop it.” She made a swing for his arm and found that her hand moved like it was made of rope.

  Ghortin took the attempt for what it was and stopped his rousing. “You must start moving around. I fear there’s still too much of whatever we were given in your system.”

  Jenna shook her head as two Ghortins bloomed into being. The shake brought them back together again.

  “What?” She wished her mind could come up with something else, but it seemed like the most important thing to say at the moment.

  Ghortin ignored her question and lifted her up. Supporting her with one arm, he marched her up and down outside of her small tent. Jenna looked aroun
d as best she could, but her neck was stiff and immobile. She thought that quite a number of tents were missing, but her vision was still having trouble as well, so she wasn’t certain.

  “Now, how’s that? Feel better? Think you can stand on your own?”

  At her tentative nod, he slowly released her. She still shook a bit, but as long as she didn’t make any sudden moves, she was able to stand on her own. After a few moments, she ventured her question again.

  “What happened?”

  “We’re not certain, but I can make a good guess. We were drugged.”

  Jenna anxiously looked around for attackers, but she found none, unfortunately she was certain there were only a few tents now.

  “Why drugged? Where is everyone?” Her mouth was still working a bit on the slow side. Which wasn’t so bad since her mind was as well.

  Ghortin ran his hand through his unkempt hair with a frown. “The two are linked, although I’m not sure why. I awoke myself not more than a half hour ago. Let’s go join the others; they should be a bit better off than they were when I left them.”

  Jenna was dismayed at how few ‘the others’ were. Ghortin, Storm, Edgar, the injured, the mages, as well as Crell and her fighters were the only ones left in camp. The rest had taken flight, or been taken, while they slept.

  “Was it our enemy? Did their reinforcements arrive? Could they have carried everyone else off?” Jenna asked quietly. She was glad that most of her friends were here, but she was worried about Keanin’s absence.

  Edgar shook his head slowly. Like the rest of them, the master spy was still recovering from their little sleep aid. Jenna had never seen him look this out of sorts. He also looked furious. She guessed that he’d never found himself on the receiving end of a drugged coup. “And take their tents as well? No, most of those that we fought yesterday were mercenaries, kidnapping isn’t their style. I think everyone left of their own accord.” He looked over to Storm with a frown. “I think the king made good on his threat to leave.”

  Storm’s jaw tightened and Jenna got the distinct impression that this conversation had been going on before she arrived.

  “I can’t believe that my father would drug us just so he could have his way. And Keanin would be one of the last people to go venturing off into the Markare without us. He’s terrified of that place.”

  “He has a point.” Crell nodded stiffly. “I’ve looked the grounds over, our people went voluntarily, regardless of whether Keanin did or not.”

  “There’s one person who could have gotten them to do that,” Ghortin added.

  “But why? And why would he leave us?” Storm shook his head.

  Ghortin looked up thoughtfully. “Because we—even you—disagreed with him. Something horrible happened to Daylin during these past few months. He’s not himself. He drugged those of us he knew he couldn’t convince to go along with his plans, and then he led the rest away. I’m sorry, lad,” Ghortin looked down at the brooding prince, “but that’s what it points to.”

  Jenna stepped into Storm’s silence. “But why take Keanin? Granted, he couldn’t have stopped the king, but he certainly wouldn’t have gone along quietly.”

  “Maybe he didn’t.” Edgar tapped one slender finger on the crude table as he quickly sorted his thoughts. “There are some rare poisons that act as a delay for other poisons. If someone mixed some of those into our food, the meal we all ate in Ghortin’s tent, it wouldn’t have kicked in until much later.”

  “That would mean that Keanin ate it too,” Jenna said.

  Edgar nodded. “Yes, for some reason Keanin was taken, even though he was unconscious.”

  Ghortin shook his head. “Perhaps Daylin thought that he could use Keanin’s mage abilities. He carefully left all the rest of us mages, but because he raised Keanin, he might have felt he could trust him.” He gave Jenna a wry look. “Except for Frankon. Maybe he thought to try a combination of Frankon’s skill, such as it is, with Keanin’s raw magical strength.”

  “But do you think Keanin would help him? I mean, once he woke up and we weren’t there?” Jenna couldn’t imagine her friend giving up on them.

  Storm’s lean face was dark. “He would if my father convinced him that he had no choice. Once they get into the middle of the Markare, with no help in sight, he might give in to anything.”

  Jenna noticed that he no longer argued that his father hadn’t been the cause of the missing people. As much as it tore him up inside, he had accepted his father’s actions.

  “Which brings us to the question, what do we do now?” Edgar’s words quieted the tent.

  Storm looked up grimly. “We have to go after my father.”

  Ghortin frowned. “I don’t think that would be wise. We may have lost all of them already, I’d not like to lose the rest of us, even for the king. We took a big chance coming out here in the first place; I say we go back and get help.”

  Crell shook her head. “I’ll not argue with you about the danger, but my fighters are furious about the deception and the drugging. My scouts said the tracks were still fresh and that we might be able to cut them off at Narrows’ Pass. I say we go.” There was more anger in her green eyes than she was letting show in her words.

  “I have to agree with Crell,” Edgar said. “We might be able to turn them around. Make the king see reason, and I’m sure that most of those who went would have been unaware of his drugging us. I think he moved in with a fast story to get them to go.”

  “I don’t think we should go into the Markare so unprepared. And undermanned. Remember, we’ve got all the injured.” Ghortin got up and paced. Jenna was amazed that he didn’t dig a pit with the number of times he walked his tight little circle before he spoke.

  He finally turned with a long sigh. “You may be right; we should at least see where they are headed. But,” he held up a warning hand, “if we don’t find them in one day, we go back for help.”

  Now that he’d decided what the action was to be, Ghortin became a commanding general. “Crell, you and Healer Otillin move all of the injured who can’t ride into the tower. Leave him, and two of your fighters in it as well. Tell them—” He paused, looking out across the near empty camp. “Tell them to hold it against any who come, unless one of us is with them or they come directly from Lithunane. We can’t trust anyone who left with the king until we know what happened. The rest of you, get ready. We ride within the hour.”

  It didn’t take long for Jenna to gather her possessions; she hadn’t taken anything out last night. She looked away from Keanin’s empty tent space. There must be another reason the king took him, something she wasn’t getting. Storm had her worried as well. He’d accepted his father’s betrayal poorly, his face now cold and unmoving. She wondered what would happen if they did find the wayward king.

  How did they know that the king was wrong? His actions were drastic, but a madman hadn’t held any of them for three months. Maybe he did know something about what he was doing. A shiver went down her back. Could it be the time for her to do whatever it was she was in this world for?

  “You know, it’s easier to pull out the stakes from the bottom.”

  Jenna jumped and found herself face to face with Edgar. The spymaster had donned light clothes and wrapped a cloth around his head. At her confused look, he nodded toward the tent corner she’d been pulling on without notice.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  “Don’t apologize, it’s your tent. What were you thinking so intently about?” As he spoke, he started taking down one side of the tent. Jenna finished on the other.

  “I was wondering if this was what Rachael was talking about. If we’re being brought into the desert for a reason.”

  “Can’t say.” He looked at her intently, as if she might hold secrets she couldn’t speak of. “Do you think this is it?”

  She paused for a moment before answering. “No, I don’t think so. I mean it could be, but I’m not exactly sure what this whole thing is, even af
ter Rachael’s explanation. I don’t feel ready, that’s for sure. And I think…” she paused, searching Edgar’s black eyes for an answer that wasn’t there.

  She gave a little sigh and looked away. “I think more has to happen. I think there would be more disturbances if someone was actually ready to open that portal.”

  Edgar let out his breath. “Good to hear that. I know I’m not up to a battle for the world today. Or tomorrow for that matter. Now, the tent is packed, you’re packed, and I see by his impatience, Ghortin is ready to ride. Shall we, my lady?” He gracefully bowed and led her to the horses. It would have been more charming if he wasn’t looking deadly in his spy garb.

  Crell’s scouts were in the lead, easily keeping ahead of the horses. Every once in a while Crell would drop back and tell Ghortin of a change in direction or of any obstacles ahead of them. The trail was fairly clear, and Crell wasn’t the only one who had a feeling the king, or someone with the king, wanted to be followed.

  “Why do you think he’s making it so easy?” Jenna asked as she rode closer to Ghortin.

  He shrugged. “I can’t be sure. It isn’t a tactic I taught him. But we can’t be certain of whom he was making it easy for.”

  The words struck an ominous tone in Jenna. “Do you think the king is working with someone?”

  “Now, I didn’t say that.” Ghortin tried to look gruff, and for once Jenna wished she could still hear his thoughts. “The king may not be aware he’s leaving such a trail; he is quite out of sorts. Or it could be that someone else is suspicious of his behavior and is leaving it. I’m not certain at all.” He looked up as the spymaster rode up to them.

  “I think I can pinpoint the area they are headed to. There’s only one safe stopping point within a day’s ride. The Shadon. It’s a small wash with running water.” Edgar looked concerned about something. “It’s odd. That’s where they’re heading, but they’ve taken the longer route. They’re on the old caravan trail. There’s a new path that would cut about five hours off their travel time.” He shook his head sharply. “I don’t understand why the king is taking the old route. It makes no sense.”