by BJ Hanlon
He gasped and took in a lungful of freezing, saltwater.
The vision faded and he saw the seabed a few inches from his face. Edin pressed a hand to the silt and arrested his descent.
Edin twisted as his vision was going dark. He pushed his feet into the seabed and thrust up. Barely a second later, his head burst through the surface and he was looking at the burning wreck of the lighthouse. It was a heap of flames and wood. Edin swam to the rocks and pulled himself up.
The heat from the fire was the greatest beacon he’d ever seen. As Edin climbed he saw Berka racing around the edge of the tower toward him.
Berka reached down and grabbed Edin, pulling him out of the water and onto the edge of the now thawing peninsula. After some shuffling over the ground they reached within feet of the burning fire and he began to dry.
He coughed and his lungs burned. The saltwater came up and out in painful, horrendous gasps and wretches. Edin’s vision blackened again and he vomited for what felt like ten hours.
Edin’s chest burned as he began to regain some semblance of what was happening. The warmth from the fire tickled his downturned head. Around him the fire crackled and the waves slapped at the rocky shore.
Edin thought he heard whistles and bells somewhere beyond it but couldn’t be sure. As he opened his eyes and looked, he saw the bodies.
Arsholnol’s eyes were wide, his beard all but burnt off showing his weak chin. Next to him was the justicar’s arm. The black sleeve and his sword were all that was visible.
“Come on,” Berka said. “Get up, they’re coming.”
Edin blinked and looked at him. “What? Why?” Edin said. “I need to see the duke. I need to speak with Merik.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Berka said. “There was a fire at the duke’s place. A few men said they saw you start it.”
Edin remembered Arsholnol talking about the fire, about burning down their already burnt hut. “Rihkar? Henny? Dorset?” Edin asked.
“They’re fine, at least as far as I know. I was with them looking for a boat this morning when the fire started. The Por Fen found us and took the two magi into their custody. Not sure how they found out about Dorset.”
Edin tried to stand, he needed to get to them, if they had Dorset and his father, they’d be as good as dead. “We have to get them.”
Berka shook his head. “You’re being hunted. They were seen when the fire started, we all were seen by many people when it started. All of us, but you.”
“Then how’d you find me, how’d you get free?” Edin’s teeth chattered.
“Merik let me go and I saw you staring at that tower last night. I followed a hunch.” He grabbed a bundle of white and set it before Edin. “You dropped these,” Berka said.
Edin unwrapped his cloak and pulled his sword from the center. “The ranger?”
“Didn’t make it out.” He said and nodded toward the tower.
“What now?” Edin said wrapping the warm cloak around himself. The shivering had already stopped but now he was growing warm. “Do we stay or do we go?”
“Well, if we wait for the duke and you tell your story we could exonerate you. But there’s the possibility they do not believe you; then you and the rest of us are executed.” He paused there. “Or we run.”
Edin glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “We?”
“I don’t think you standing around doing nothing is the best way to defeat these demons,” Berka spat. “We need a plan; you need a plan. You said there were elves, you know where they are but you won’t tell… is that true?”
Edin nodded and thought about the basin, the giant lake he was overlooking while in the water. Arianne was there. He thought. He was almost a hundred percent positive about that. He saw the mountains and could picture grasslands and surrounding large foothills. Despite the great height, Edin could see animals, some large, others small lounging on sand beaches.
Where was that place? Edin wondered.
“So, we stay and talk, or we leave and try to save the world. What do you think?”
Edin didn’t have to answer. Arianne was out there and he needed to find her. He picked up the sword and nodded.
“Come on, I’ve got a pair of horses,” Berka said. “Swiped them from a couple of army officers who looked at me weird. One called me a ginger. Can you believe that?”
“Yes,” Edin said pulling himself to his feet.
3
The Permission Slip
While they tried to flee, they came into a bit of a problem. Despite the winter, the forest was too dense to flee through. The half barren bushes and saplings as well as spindly groundcover were like tall hedgerows.
The only trail out of the place was a single path and that was covered by soldiers coming to figure out what had happened to the lighthouse. Edin and Berka didn’t get far.
“Halt!” They heard as they came upon a group of guards. The leader, rather ornery looking, was a captain and one that had been a little behind Edin during their march into town. Edin heard him once say, “I’d never believe I’d march behind a damned abomination unless he were leashed.”
The entire platoon drew their weapons and advanced. Quickly, Edin drew his. “Mage… you are under arrest for suspicion of murder…” he looked over Edin’s shoulder. “And destruction of vital property!”
“Murder?” Edin scoffed. He remembered the soldier fleeing from the fight and shook his head. “I didn’t murder—”
“Silence. Sergeant, bound their hands and take them in—”
“He’s a mage and we don’t have a wan stone,” the sergeant said. The man, a boy really, only a few years older than Edin, had a worried look on his face. None of them except the captain were probably career soldiers. Edin assumed they were all draftees.
“I will head to the duke myself,” Edin said. “Now get out of my way.”
Despite his wanting to just run, he had to go to the duke and throw himself on the young man’s mercy or wisdom. If not, the alliance was doomed and with it, everyone.
“We will not give you an audience with the duke armed, the general gave orders that you are not to approach the duke at any point.”
“Oporius is at the wall,” Berka said. “He left this morning. Now out of our way or the mad mage will slaughter you all…” He said this quietly, trailing off and in a tone of voice that caused the men, even the captain, to take a step back.
The men looked around at each other and then moved to the side of the path while Edin and Berka kicked on. They made good time and he enjoyed hearing the huffing from the soldiers behind the horses as they tried to keep up. When they moved next to each other, Edin told Berka he’d have to see Sinndilo. He’d finally stopped being a fugitive for the first time in nearly a year and decided he didn’t want to go back.
“I’d bet the Wanted Poster artists would be happy for you to be wanted again. More work.”
As they reached the end of the forested path, he could see smoke still rising from over the trees where the lighthouse had stood. The captain was panting a few yards behind.
“Where is the duke?” Edin said.
“You can’t go see —”
Edin summoned a culrian around the captain and his voice was instantly cut off. He turned toward the sergeant. “Can you answer my question?”
“They call it Wilmerts House.” He pointed to the north. “On Second and Wilmerts Drive.”
“Wilmert must’ve been a hell of a guy.” Berka said as an aside.
“Thanks. You can all go back to your duties,” Edin said dismissing them before heading toward the location where the sergeant pointed. As he turned the corner around a tall building, he released the culrian and he saw the captain drop to the ground like he’d just run a dozen leagues.
Edin grinned and then thought about Arianne. He had to do this right, he had to get out of this place and find her. The horses clapped along the road and he caught sight of a few people watching them.
There looks didn’t fee
l right. After another turn they came to a tall and wide house built from white and gray brick with a pair of guards standing before the door. Behind them were additional sentinels, tall white lions were standing on their hind legs and reared up, ready to strike.
As they approached, he felt the suppression of a wan stone. Ten feet from the guards, they dismounted and started toward the entrance handing the horses off to a soldier that appeared. The man eyed the steeds. He probably recognized them and knew they’d been stolen. Or borrowed Edin thought.
“No weapons,” the first guard said, moving up. “For either of you.”
Berka snorted. “He is a weapon…” he thumbed toward Edin.
Edin shot a quick look at him. It was true but why bring it up to people who were barring an entrance?
“The Inquisitor has left this for you.” He opened his palm and revealed a small wan stone attached to a length of thin chain.
Edin needed to get the duke to let him leave. He shrugged and glanced at Berka as he took off his sword. Did he know something Edin didn’t? Edin handed it to the guards.
There was a commotion behind them and the group turned to see. The captain was jogging up the street toward them with his men a bit further behind. His face was as red as a ripe apple and he was panting. A pipe smoker probably and one that shouldn’t lead troops into battle. Edin thought.
“I arrest—” He huffed as he approached. He stopped to catch his breath and placed his hands on his knees.
Edin raised an eyebrow. In a moment, he guessed the captain would throw up. He probably was an officer that led from the rear.
A coward. Edin thought and instantly, he felt disdain for the man and sorry for his soldiers. The officer was probably a noble who bought his commission not a man who earned it.
“Lord Icari?” the guard next to Edin and Berka said. “Are you alright?”
Edin was right and the noble-turned-captain pushed against his knees with great effort and tried to stand fully upright, then he put his hands to his kidneys and he stared at, no not at, but beyond the men before him. He couldn’t even meet their eyes.
“He didn’t arrest us,” Edin said.
“I did!” Icari screamed. “Let Sinndilo know—” the he paused, cutting himself off. “Never mind, I will take them in myself.”
Berka, who had taken off his back scabbard and his greatsword looked at the man as if he’d gone mad. He handed it to the guard and shrugged.
“Fine,” the guard said. “On with the necklace.” He looked at Edin who slipped it over his head and let it rest on his chest. He felt the damping of the talent even further, though he could still feel it. Something few guessed at but none truly knew.
“After you Icari,” Berka said not using his lord title. Berka wasn’t a soldier and now not a Por Fen either though it was against the law to not use proper titles.
Icari, red-faced and still trying to catch his breath glared. “In a moment.”
Edin stepped past the guards and walked through the arched doorway into what he guessed was the grandest house in Intelians.
There was a giant open-air courtyard before them with a tiled mosaic floor surrounding a large fountain. The place was two stories with open balconies surrounding them. Edin saw guards on the roof of the second story and others peaking around from behind wide columns. A few more statues stood in corners; he could see a bird, a white crane and it reminded him of the one Jassir had built in Yaultan.
“So, what’s the plan?” Berka said. “Are you just going to ask?”
“Never hurts,” Edin said. Though he’d asked just a few days ago, he pleaded and told the council how urgent it was that he be released to save the world. They weren’t buying it. Even Rihkar was a bit uneasy and that was his father. Now, hopefully with Rihkar and the general both not in the actual room, he could convince the boy duke.
Icari led them around the fountain and up a set of open-air stairs in the back-right corner of the courtyard. At the top, they headed down a walkway with doors to the right and a thin metal balustrade to the left overlooking the courtyard. The last door had more sentinels standing before it as if they were saying, ‘yes, here is where our duke is. No need to look any further.’
They stopped before the guards and Icari, in his high-pitched babble voice told them he’d arrested the fugitive and an accomplice.
The guards moved to Edin and Berka and began patting them down. The one who patted Edin down seemed a bit uneasy. His jaw quaked and every pat was barely a tap. Edin probably could’ve carried an arsenal into the duke’s room and the guard would have no idea. That was the fear they had of him. The fear of his kind.
Could that ever change? Edin wondered. Would people ever believe that magi weren’t abominations?
“He has no weapons,” the one patting down Berka said. The one patting Edin nodded and they both stepped back and they went to the closed door.
Icari was in first and Edin was suddenly taken with the thought that maybe Icari had something to do with the attack on him that morning.
“Duke Sinndilo,” Icari said bowing low as soon as the door opened. But only an old and hunched scribe stood before him and looked rather bemused. Edin looked over the captain’s shoulder and into a small antechamber with no one else.
“I have been trying to exercise a bit more, regain some youthful energy and what not. Some people say it’s good for vitality,” the scribe said grinning. “I guess it worked well.”
“Out of my way old man,” Icari barked and pressed past him through a door on the right. It was closed and he threw it open as if he were raiding a brothel on the order of the king.
He wasn’t and the young duke was drinking from a goblet when the door slammed open. Edin watched as the liquid, wine by the look of it, spilt over his white tunic and chest.
Sinndilo gasped and pulled the goblet from his mouth and held it out as drops crashed to the white rug beneath him. A moment later he wiped his mouth.
“What in the name of Losilin are you doing bursting in here?” Sinndilo gasped. “Are you an idiot?” Sinndilo set down the goblet on a table and tore off his tunic. The old scribe came rushing in, though ‘rushing’ might have been overstating it, and began toward the duke. The duke held up his hand to stop him and Edin had to stifle a laugh. It wasn’t the best way to begin a meeting with royalty, though it wouldn’t be the worst either as he remembered his first meeting with Arianne after he’d awoken.
He glanced around the room. There were long, flowing curtains of royal blue inlaid with gold flowers. The bed was tall and wide and covered with a see-through white fabric that hung from the canopy. Edin thought he could see the lump in the shape of a person in there but he said nothing about it.
Icari grew red again and a frightened look came over his face. “My duke…” he stammered, “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit…”
“Shut it,” the duke said as he wiped his face and arms with the now shed tunic. “I am alright,” he licked wine from his hand and after a few moments, turned to Edin.
“Edin de Yaultan. Why, why, why?” He sighed. “I have heard reports that are unsettling. Where have you been and what happened to the lighthouse?” Sinndilo shook his head.
“My lord, he was the one who tried to murder you, he tried to burn down the—”
“The stone building I was in by setting fire to a few crates outside the walls?” The duke shook his head. “Master Edin, you’re not that stupid, are you? Because if you are, I don’t think there is any use for you in my army.”
Was he giving Edin a way out? A way to leave without losing face. Edin raised an eyebrow glanced around the room and saw it was empty save Berka, the scribe, and the foolish captain here. At that moment, he doubted that line of reasoning very much.
“No sir,” Edin said and paused. “I don’t think even I can make rock burn.”
Icari shrieked, “Witnesses have placed him lurking around like a cutthroat from Neeplinie.”
“I was at the lighthouse and
awoken by the bells when this fire was started.”
“Then why were you seen fleeing to the lighthouse and chased by four of the duke’s own guard, Arsholnol included and three Por Fen?”
“Where is Arsholnol?” said the duke.
“Dead, sir,” Edin said flatly. “They did attack me and they died. A bottle of whiskey broke and the lighthouse was caught aflame and it burnt down.”
“All of them are dead?”
“There was one who survived. A soldier in Arsholnol’s command would be my guess.”
“And the Por Fen?”
“Dead,” Edin said. “When the lighthouse collapsed at least two were still inside.”
“And the third?”
“He was half in and half out,” Berka said. “He looked to have been hit in the chest by a sledgehammer.” Berka looked at Edin.
“I don’t carry a sledgehammer,” Edin said then asked. “What is a sledgehammer?”
“A hammer for breaking up rocks. Miners use it,” Sinndilo said. “It doesn’t matter. Are you saying a posse came and attacked you?”
Edin nodded.
“He’s lying. They were attempting to arrest him, to thwart him for making another attempt on your life—”
“Shut up Icari. If you speak again I will have you on the wall covering the waste pits.” Sinndilo sighed. “What can we do? It makes more sense to me that you’d be attacked by one of my men, than you attacking me.”
“My lord,” Edin bowed. “You know I must leave sir. It is my destiny.”
“Find the elves, do you really think you can? Even so, do you think they’d even offer us aid after what we, our ancestors have done to them?”
Edin thought of the she elf, she would help, but what of the other elves? The way the she-elf had spoken, that was most certainly a no.
Then he thought of Arianne and hesitated for just a moment. He saw Berka raise an eyebrow. “I know they would. They may not like us but they like their cousins less.” Edin glanced to the right and through a window, he saw the forest and peaking up beyond it, far in the distance, he saw mountains.
