“Actually, I was hoping to speak with, uh, Ix…” He paused, struggling to remember how to say her name.
“Ixchel,” Seri finished.
The girl in question stood. Victor found himself unable to remember what he had been going to say. He still had trouble understanding how this woman went about in bare feet. Her soles must be incredibly tough.
“You wanted something?” she asked.
“Ah, right. I, uh, was working out this morning and remembered our first meeting a couple of days ago…” Why did he feel so awkward? He toyed with the two practice swords he had cut from a sturdy branch.
“Yes.”
“I, yes… what?”
“You wish to spar. I accept.”
“Right, spar. Right.” The reason he had sought her out. It had just slipped his mind for some reason.
The two of them moved away from Seri to an open area. Victor noticed Rufus watching with a grin. Great. An audience. He wanted to test himself against Ixchel again, because she seemed far more capable than anyone else here. But he didn’t want anyone else to see him get embarrassed. As he handed Ixchel one of the practice swords, he considered it a distinct possibility.
She bent the branch to test its strength. It snapped back into shape. Victor had chosen well.
“Rules?” he asked.
Ixchel looked him over. “Arm and leg tags do not count. We stop if someone simulates a killing blow.”
Victor agreed. He felt nervous, more nervous than he had since his first training sessions with Talinir. Based on their first encounter, Ixchel fought like a highly trained warrior.
He dropped into his defensive stance and held his practice sword at ready. He wished he could use his flail, but that would be too dangerous.
Ixchel observed him for a moment, then slid smoothly into a stance of her own, shield up and practice sword hovering just behind it. The shield, though small, concealed some of her movements from his immediate view. Interesting. She didn’t conceal much of anything else, of course, and that…
He almost didn’t see the sword coming. He ducked his head to the right and down. It flashed over him. How had she backhanded a blow from that position? He needed to stop getting distracted. He resumed his stance and focused on the movements, not his opponent’s appearance.
They traded feints back and forth for a while. Victor took note of Ixchel’s swift foot movements. She moved much faster than anyone he had seen since Talinir. And she had a very different style from the Eldanim or the soldiers of Varioch. Her movements were flexible, graceful even.
“Graceful but deadly,” he said aloud.
“Excuse me?”
“Your style,” he answered. His sword swept upward from ground level, but Ixchel caught it on her shield. “It’s very… different than I’m used to.”
“Thank you.”
They continued their dance for some time. Victor managed only once to tag Ixchel’s leg. She tagged him three times, once in the ribs. It felt hard enough to leave a bruise. It might not have been a killing blow, but it was close.
Victor took a step back and lifted his sword. “Take a break?” Ixchel nodded and they both seated themselves, sweating and breathing hard.
Victor rubbed his side. “Good stroke. That one hurt,” he complained.
“You are skilled yourself. I haven’t sparred like this in months. Since I joined my Lady.”
“And I haven’t sparred since we lost Talinir. He was my trainer. A, uh, warden of the Eldanim.”
Ixchel cocked her head. “That explains it. I did not recognize some of your moves. The Eldanim is not a style I was taught.”
“Where were you taught?”
Ixchel hesitated, then explained her upbringing as one of the Holcan, traditional warriors in Ch’olan. Victor found her vocal style just as fascinating as her fighting style. She spoke only in short sentences, and her voice seemed to rise ever so slightly through each word.
“Before I met Talinir, all I had was an open field outside my village,” Victor said. “And this flail.” He picked it up.
“What made you choose that weapon?”
“I didn’t choose it, really.” Victor toyed with the chain. “I found it one day, and I guess I just thought it was special. I started practicing right away.” He looked up and smiled. “And almost broke my leg on the first day.”
Ixchel smiled, but did not laugh. “You are self-taught with it, then?”
“Pretty much. Talinir gave me a few pointers, but he mostly taught me the sword.”
“You are… surprisingly effective.” Seeing his facial reaction, she added, “For being self-taught.”
“Heh. Thanks.” Victor paused. “I do have a question.”
She looked at him without responding.
“Why, uh, why do you and Topleb sound so different? I mean, you don’t have the same accent he does.”
Ixchel cocked her head. “Topleb is from the country. I grew up in the city of Woqan.”
“And that’s it?”
She shrugged.
“Huh.”
Ixchel stood abruptly. “I need to clean up. We will travel again shortly. Perhaps we will spar another day?”
“Uh, yeah. Definitely.”
Victor watched her leave. He noticed Rufus and Topleb both watching him now, and scowled at them. He got to his feet and braced himself for the teasing he knew would come.
Seri frowned at Marshal. “I’m not sure I understand.” She looked back at the trail to make sure she didn’t stumble. Topleb wasn’t as careful as Ixchel had been about finding the smoothest roads.
“What do you mean?” Marshal asked. “I want to end the curses.”
“You want to erase the Laws of Cursings and Bindings? The foundation of all magic in Antises?”
Marshal actually stumbled. He shot a look at the road ahead, and then back at Seri. “I… don’t know about the Bindings. But the curses are wrong.”
“Well, I mean, you grew up cursed for something you didn’t do, so I can see that point of view,” Seri said. “But what about those who deserve it?”
Marshal pointed toward the back of their small group. Seri looked back. Rufus limped along next to Dravid. “Rufus stole some corn from his neighbor five years ago. Does he deserve to have a twisted foot for the rest of his life?”
“I don’t know.” What could she say to that? “But what about those who commit real crimes, like murder? Don’t they deserve it?”
Marshal shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they do. But should we leave that up to… to the magic? How do we know it even works? We see the results of curses, but we don’t see every crime.”
“Then how…” Seri ducked under a tree branch and glared at Topleb. “How would we discover the crimes in the first place? How would they get punished?”
“Maybe we could have some kind of special warriors, like Ixchel and, and Victor, who would have that job,” Marshal suggested.
Seri shook her head. “I don’t see how that would work. You would take the job away from unbiased magic and give it to people? How would you know you could trust them?”
“They would have to be good people.”
“Who decides who is good?”
Marshal waved his arms. “I don’t know! I just know what we have now is wrong.”
“I don’t even know how we would do such a thing,” Seri said. “No one knows quite how the first mages created the Laws. It’s beyond anything the current Masters can do.”
“My mother died to lift my curse. Nian died telling me that Theon wants to give us blessings, not curses. I won’t let them die in vain.”
Seri didn’t answer. Marshal obviously believed all of this, but his arguments were based on his personal experiences. She couldn’t argue with that.
After a few more minutes, Marshal spoke up again. “We knew that we needed more power and knowledge,” he said slowly. “Nian suggested that someone from the Conclave could help us, but you don’t sound like you really want to.
”
“That’s—”
“Which is why I need to find Talinir. I trust him, and he’ll know more.”
“The Masters on Zes Sivas will know more too.”
“I’m not going to Zes Sivas until I find Talinir and get Topleb home.”
“Yes, you said that. I’m just trying to explain.”
“You haven’t explained very much so far.”
“But that—you—”
Seri almost ran into Victor. She and Marshal both stopped as he smiled at them.
“I’m not sure if the two of you are about to fight or kiss,” Victor observed.
“What?”
Victor pointed ahead. “Topleb says we should go ahead and make camp here. There’s a village nearby where we can get some supplies.”
“Works for me,” Marshal said. He pushed past Victor and went to speak with Topleb.
Seri sighed. “I’m not very good at persuading people,” she admitted.
Victor glanced over his shoulder at Marshal. “Don’t worry about it. You have to remember that up until recently, Marshal couldn’t even talk. He’s not used to it. And definitely not used to people responding to what he says.” He paused and chuckled. “It took me a while to figure that out.”
The other travelers caught up with them. “Let’s make camp,” Victor called.
As everyone relaxed, Seri watched Marshal talking with Topleb. She had to get through to him somehow. It wasn’t just her opinion. The fate of Antises depended on it.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
VICTOR LOOKED DOWN the hill at the small town. “Reminds me of Efesun,” he told Topleb. When he got no reaction, he added, “It’s a town we traveled through a long time ago. Maybe a little bigger than this one, actually.”
The two of them started down the road. Marshal had decided only they two would enter the town and gather a few supplies. Victor agreed with keeping Forerunner and Wolf out of sight, at the least.
“We are so close to Ch’olan,” Topleb said. “There may be as many of my people in this town as yours.”
“I don’t see any people yet.”
“Perhaps they are all indoors for lunch. I am hungry myself.”
“Nothing to stop us from getting a meal for ourselves while we’re here.” Victor grinned. “It’s got to be better than your cooking!”
“Ha! I make do with what we have. When we visit my home, I will show you real cooking.”
“That… would be nice.”
They had almost reached the first homes on the outskirts of the town, and still no one appeared. “Where is everyone?” Victor asked. This time, Topleb did not answer.
They passed by the first houses without seeing anyone. But Victor couldn’t help feeling someone watched them from inside one or more of the homes.
“That looks like an inn,” Topleb said, pointing. Victor nodded. Maybe they could find some answers there.
The door was closed. Not necessarily unusual, but taken with the absence of any people, it gave Victor an odd feeling. He looked at Topleb. The other man shrugged and reached for the door.
Before he could grasp the handle, the door flew open. A short man with a scraggly beard stood trembling in the opening, a crude crossbow in his hands. When he saw the two of them, he lowered the weapon and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ah, forgive me. You look human enough,” he said, his voice weak and tremulous.
Victor and Topleb exchanged glances. “Yes, we are,” Victor said. “You were expecting something else?”
“Aye. You haven’t seen them, then?”
“Seen what?”
He looked up and down the street, his hands nervously moving around the crossbow.
“Eidolons,” he whispered.
“Oh. Them again?” Victor couldn’t help his response.
The man at the door eyed him with a bit of confusion. “You’d best come in,” he said. “They could appear at any time. Come on.” He gestured and stood aside.
Topleb and Victor glanced at each other again, then entered. Inside, they found the inn’s common room populated by what they took to be the innkeeper’s family and a couple of other families all sitting quietly together. As he looked around, Victor guessed few of them had slept much recently. He saw dark circles under eyes, unkempt hair, and nervous looks to and fro. He also noticed as everyone looked over the two newcomers, their eyes kept being drawn to the weapons at their belts.
“Not a smile in the house,” Topleb whispered.
“What brings you to Tungrorum?” the innkeeper asked after closing the door behind them.
“We’re with a caravan camped not far from here,” Victor said. “We just stopped in for some supplies. What’s going on here?”
“First explain what you meant outside,” the innkeeper said. “You’ve seen eidolons before?”
“I’ve fought them,” Victor said. “They were after one of my friends.”
“You know how to fight them?” a woman spoke up. Several others murmured in response.
Victor glanced around the room again. “I, uh, I’ve fought them, but never, um, killed one or anything.”
“But can they be stopped?” the innkeeper asked, stepping closer.
“I don’t know. My friend back at the caravan might know more than I do. But first I need to know what’s going on?”
Several more glances and whispers were exchanged before a tall woman who looked less fearful than the rest stood up. “My sister saw the first one over a week ago,” she said. “It wandered around their house in the twilight hours, then disappeared as it grew dark.”
“It was marking them!” someone else added.
“Two days later,” the tall woman went on, with a hitch in her voice, “my sister and her whole family… vanished. We looked everywhere for them. But all we saw was the eidolon.” She paused. “I swear it was laughing at us!” Murmurs of agreement followed her words.
“Since then, we’ve all seen them,” the innkeeper broke in. “Sometimes just one. Sometimes it’s three or four.”
“I saw six!” A few other voices argued with that one for a moment.
Topleb leaned in to Victor. “These are ghosts, yes? Spirits?”
“That’s what people think,” Victor said. “They look like shadows. They’re actually Eldanim or something like them, crossing over from the Otherworld. At least, I think so. I never did fully understand that.”
“We call them tzitzimitl,” Topleb said. “They are rare, but have been seen near the high place.”
“What are you saying?” the innkeeper asked. “The eidolons are Eldanim?”
“Something like them,” Victor said. “Not exactly.”
“Then why would they take my sister?” the tall woman demanded.
“I don’t know. Have they taken anyone else since then?”
Several people tried to talk at once. Eventually, Victor determined two other families had vanished without a trace. Someone suggested a local merchant had also disappeared, but others argued he just left on his own. He wasn’t the only one. At least three other families had fled the town.
“What should we do?” Topleb asked.
“We should get this information back to Marshal,” Victor said. “Between him and our new mage friends, someone will know what to do about this.” He frowned. “It’s such strange behavior, though. I’ve never heard of them taking people away.”
“You told me a curse was lifted,” Topleb said. “Did you think the natural order of things wouldn’t change after that?”
Victor couldn’t see the connection, but didn’t argue. He explained his intentions to the people, promising to return as soon as he could. The people responded with equal parts gratitude and skepticism.
Victor opened the door and Topleb followed him. They both stopped right outside.
Four eidola stood in the road, swords drawn.
Seri concentrated and tried again. This time, she felt certain.
“Volraag is on the move,” she said
. “I think he’s on a ship. Or at least near the water.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at Marshal watching her. “You can tell that much?”
“I’m pretty sure,” she said, getting to her feet. The two of them stood at the summit of a small hill. Ixchel waited a few feet away.
Marshal shook his head. “I’m amazed at how much you can determine. All I can tell is when he’s close.”
“You haven’t had any training,” Seri said. “How much do you know about your power?”
“All I know how to do is let it out.” A tremor ran through the ground to illustrate his words.
“There are so many more things you can do besides destroy! I can teach you! Maybe that’s one of the reasons I needed to find you.”
“I would… appreciate that.”
Marshal turned away. Seri had trouble understanding his moods. The scars made reading his facial expressions difficult if not impossible. And a lifetime without speaking had left him reticent to explain himself. It frustrated her more than she wanted to admit. Understanding Marshal might be the key to saving Antises itself. She could not fail. And beyond that, she found him intriguing. He wasn’t handsome like Dravid, but his strength—magical and physical—was undeniable.
“Listen,” she called. Marshal turned back. “Our magic is based on vibration, the Masters taught me. And everything vibrates, to some extent. When you can find the vibration of something, you can learn how to do more with it—control it, even.”
Marshal’s brow furrowed. He gestured to the nearest tree. “So if I learn the… vibration of this tree, I could… what? Make it grow more or something?”
“Well, living things are different. You should start with something less complicated.”
“Of course.” Marshal turned, as if looking for something else to use as an example. Seri clenched her fist. Why had it been so easy for Master Hain? Because she had been an eager student. Marshal wasn’t. He had doubts. How could she change that?
She heard a sharp intake of breath. Marshal drew his sword. “What is it?” she asked, then turned in the direction he faced. “Oh.”
Six of the Gidim stood nearby, all of them with shadowy swords in their hands.
Until All Bonds Are Broken Page 30
