I jerked back in surprise. Moon Man seized my upper arms to keep me from falling.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
He peered at me with an alarming intensity. Blue fire flecked his brown eyes. I tried to move, but he wouldn’t let go.
“They are dead,” he said with a flat voice. “Story Weavers and Sandseeds gone. Their souls haunt the shadow world.”
His grip on my arms tightened. “You’re hurt—”
“You can help them.”
“But I don’t—”
“Selfish girl. You would rather lose your abilities than use them. And that is what will happen. You will become a slave to another.”
His words slapped me in the face. “But I’ve been using them all along.”
“Anyone can heal. You, though, hide from your real power and others suffer for it.”
Stung and hurt, I tried to break loose, but his hold wouldn’t release. In order not to injure him, I projected into Moon Man’s mind. Thick ropes of gray power surrounded him. The shadow world still held his mind. My efforts to cut the ties failed.
“The shadow world calls.”
Moon Man began to fade. My body became translucent. He planned to take me with him to a place where I feared I couldn’t access my magic. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled my switchblade and triggered the blade. I slashed him across his stomach. Moon Man shuddered and let go. He collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball on his side.
I looked at Moon Man’s still form. The gray power had vanished, but I wasn’t sure of his mental state. Perhaps the shock and grief had been too much for him. Difficult to believe. He had been a calm and steady presence all along.
I knelt next to him. The blood from his wound soaked his shirt. Drawing power, I focused on his stomach. The cut pulsed with a red light and a line of pain formed on my own stomach. I huddled on the ground, concentrating on the injury. My magic repaired the damage.
When I finished, Moon Man grasped my hand. I tried to pull free, but he squeezed. My body jerked as the image of headless bodies slammed into my mind. They crowded close, enveloping me with the reek of dead flesh as they demanded revenge. Another jerk and the scene of a massacre flooded my senses. The burning stench of body fluids and death stung my nose as blood soaked into the sand. Mutilated bodies were strewn in a haphazard, irreverent manner and left for the vultures to find.
Moon Man sat, and I tried to break his hold. His gaze met mine.
“Is that what you saw in the shadow world?” I asked.
“Yes.” Horror filled his eyes as the gruesome images replayed in his mind.
“Give the memories to me.” I felt his reluctance. “I will not forget them.”
“Will you help them?”
“Can’t you?”
“I can only help the living.”
“Are you going to tell me how or spout some cryptic bullshit?”
“You do not want to learn. You have refused to see what is all around you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Pain creased his face and the light in his eyes dulled. He would be unable to function with the dreadful knowledge of how his people suffered.
“Give them to me. I’ll try to help them, but not right now.” I mentally added soothing-the-dead-Sandseeds to the end of my long list of things to do. After I dealt with the Fire Warper, which should be a breeze. While I was lying to myself, I included flying and turning stones into gold to my list. Might as well think big.
Moon Man released the emotional turmoil of his visions. He wouldn’t forget the images, but they would no longer strangle him. I gathered his grief and guilt and anguish to my soul. So much carnage and blood. All to boost the Vermin’s power. So many dead. Too many. How to soothe those victims? Stopping the Vermin from increasing their strength might work. What if they tried again? Perhaps destroying the power blanket to keep everyone from using magic would work. A drastic and desperate measure that might not even be possible.
Letting go of my hand, Moon Man stood.
“What you said about my future. Is it true?” I asked.
“Yes. You will become a slave to another.” The discussion over, Moon Man returned to the campfire.
We ate the stew in silence. Packing up, we mounted and spurred the horses toward the Avibian border. When we reached the road located between the plains and the fields of the Greenblade Clan’s lands, we turned north toward the Citadel and slowed the horses to a walk. At this late hour, the road was empty.
Being out of the plains gave us at least an illusion of safety, but I wanted to ride a little farther before we stopped for the night.
The next three days dragged. With hardly a word spoken between the three of us, an awkward hush resulted as we traveled to the Citadel. Moon Man’s comment about my future repeated in my mind, grating on my nerves like a high-pitched squeal. I wanted to know who would force me to be a slave and when, but I knew Moon Man would reply with a cryptic remark and I wouldn’t be smart enough to figure it out. The air turned cold and damp as we went farther north, and one night sleet pelted us, making our ride miserable.
Seeing the welcome sight of the white marble walls of the city on the third day, I spurred Kiki into a gallop. Gone from the Keep for eighteen days, I missed Irys, my old mentor who answered my questions with a refreshing directness, and my friends at the Magician’s Keep.
After crossing the south entrance gate of the outer wall, we walked the horses through the streets of the Citadel. Puddles of icy muck peppered the walkways. Citizens hurried through the intermittent rain, and the grayness cast a mournful facade over the expanse of marble buildings. The smell of wet wool clung to the air. We aimed for the Council Hall, which was located with the other government buildings in the southeast quadrant of the Citadel.
Home? Kiki looked with longing at the four towers of the Keep.
Soon, I said. Rest here for now. A stable for the Councilors had been erected behind the building. At least you’ll be out of the rain. Once Kiki and Garnet were settled, we entered the hall.
A guard informed us a Council meeting had just finished and we should go in before the Councilors left for the day. Entering the Great Hall, I spotted Irys talking to Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician. Groups of Councilors and aides formed small knots and the noise of their discussions filled the room. By the harsh tones and strident voices, I sensed the discussion hadn’t gone well and an undercurrent of fear trembled against my skin.
Moon Man and Tauno went directly to their Councilman, Harun Sandseed. I hung back, not wanting to interfere with the Sandseeds. Irys hurried toward me. She wore her stern Fourth Magician expression. She was worried. I scanned the clumps of Councilors with more care and I discovered the reason for her concern.
Cahil stood with Roze Featherstone and another Councilor. He laughed and talked as if he belonged there.
CHAPTER 16
I MOVED TO CONFRONT Cahil. He should be in the dungeon for aiding and abetting a murderer, not standing in the middle of the Great Hall having a conversation with Roze. My alarm increased when I saw a few Vermin inside the Hall.
Irys had other plans. She grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.
“Now is not the time,” she said, appealing to me.
“What is going on?” I demanded.
Irys glanced around the room. A few Councilors stood close enough to overhear us, so she switched to our mental communication.
Cahil claims he’s been on an undercover mission this whole time, she said. He says that he didn’t free Ferde.
Why would anyone believe that? I asked.
Because Roze corroborated his story.
A lightning strike of shock ripped through my body. I hoped I misunderstood her. But her grim expression didn’t change.
It gets worse, she said. Cahil says he caught Marrok rescuing Ferde and, after interrogating him, Cahil discovered Ferde was on his way to rendezvous with others. Cahil followed the Soulstealer to discover what they plotted.
That’s ridiculous. We know Cahil beat Marrok to find out about his birth parents.
It’s Cahil’s word against Marrok’s at this point because there is no evidence to say who freed Ferde. Especially since Ferde can’t be questioned. Irys frowned. We’ll talk about your actions later, but whatever you learned from Ferde s mind can’t be used as evidence.
Why not?
Because you were emotionally involved with the Soulstealer and your impartiality is suspect. I know—she went on, sensing my protest—it isn’t right, but when the Council discovered what you had done to Ferde, it confirmed their fears about you being a Soulfinder and validated Roze’s warnings.
I sighed. It had confirmed my fears, too. Where’s Ferde now?
In the Citadel’s jail, waiting for the Council to decide what to do with him. Although I think executing him would be a kindness.
Her censure hurt and guilt welled. I forced my thoughts away from Ferde and concentrated on Cahil. There had to be a way to show the Council the truth about his involvement. Where’s Marrok? What has he said?
Marrok is being held for questioning. He claims he didn’t free Ferde. He had no motive. But Cahil says Marrok wanted to frame him for the escape so Marrok could lead Cahil’s men. And also that Marrok lied to him, and Cahil really has royal blood.
My mind spun. Cahil had an answer for everything. So why was Cahil traveling with Ferde?
He says it was part of the undercover mission. Once he caught up with Ferde, he convinced Ferde he wanted to be a part of their plans. While he traveled with the Daviians, Cahil says he recruited them to switch sides. She gestured to the Vermin in the room.
Did he mention the Vermin using blood magic and the Fire Warper?
No. He didn’t, but Leif tried. Leif attempted to discredit Cahil and many of the Councilors thought he exaggerated about the Daviians. Unfortunately, Leif’s reputation for seeing doom and gloom in everything worked against him.
Did Cahil say what the Vermin plan to do? Half of me didn’t want to hear Irys’s response. I steeled myself.
According to Cahil, the Daviians’ leaders are in league with the Commander of Ixia. Together they plan to assassinate the Council and Master Magicians and, in the ensuing chaos, the Daviians will offer to help Sitia battle the Ixians. But there won’t really be a war and the Daviians will eventually turn Sitian’s government into a dictatorship.
Exactly what the Council feared since the Commander took over Ixia, and, combined with the resultant bad feelings from the Ixian Ambassador’s visit, the Councilors were primed for Cahil’s lies. So now it seemed Roze was right to warn the Council about the Commander. And I had no evidence to prove them wrong.
What about my training? I asked.
I didn’t think Irys could look any more upset, but she managed to deepen her scowl. The Council has given Roze permission to “assess” your involvement in these events and to determine what risk you pose to Sitia.
I’m sure that would be impartial. Do I have any say in this?
No. But the other Masters will be there as witnesses. All except me. My objectivity is considered compromised by our friendship.
Moon Man and Tauno finished their conversation with Harun. They came toward us.
Did you hear about the Sandseed massacre? I asked Irys.
Yes. Horrible news, and it gave Cahil more proof of the Daviian threat. The Council is preparing the Sitian army for war.
I didn’t even have to ask. Irys saw the question in my eyes.
War against the Daviians and against Ixia.
So much for my job as Liaison. War between Sitia and Ixia was the one thing I had hoped to avoid. There had to be more going on with the Daviian Vermin, though. I knew the Commander would never team up with them. They used blood magic, and he wouldn’t condone the use of any magic. Besides, he could attack Sitia without the Vermin’s help. Again, I had no proof.
Moon Man and Tauno joined us.
“There are about a dozen Sandseed survivors,” Moon Man said. “They came to the Citadel and are staying here for now. Only one Story Weaver besides me survived. It is Gede, and he is the one we need to talk to about the Fire Warper.”
Irys said, “Who—”
Moon Man kept talking. “You said Master Bloodgood has a few books about the Efe, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“We should examine them. Gede and I will come to the Keep tomorrow morning.” Moon Man turned and walked away.
I watched his back, feeling uneasy. His whole attitude toward me had changed since he had tried to drag me into the shadow world. He acted as if he had given up on me.
“That was rather abrupt,” Irys said.
“He’s been through a lot.”
“And so have you. Tell me about this Fire Warper. Leif had only sketchy details.”
I reported all our adventures to her as we left the Council Hall and headed toward the Keep.
The next morning we assembled in Bain Bloodgood’s study. Occupying the entire second floor of his tower, Bain’s office was ringed with bookcases. They had been built around the long thin windows and every shelf overflowed with texts. A desk, a few wooden chairs and a ratty armchair looking as old as Bain resided in the center of the room. The sharp tang of ink permeated the air. Ink stained the desk’s top and Bain’s fingers. And the only space on the floor without a pile of books was a foot-wide path from the door to the desk.
The tension in the room pressed on my skin. Moon Man had folded his large frame into one of the chairs. He appeared uncomfortable and he glanced with longing outside. I shared his discomfort. The room felt crowded and tight even for me. Bain sat behind his desk, with Dax Greenblade standing next to him. Dax was Bain’s apprentice and he had the unique talent of being able to read ancient languages. His help in finding Ferde and rescuing Gelsi had been vital.
Irys stared at the other Sandseed Story Weaver with ill-concealed dislike. Gede had arrived with Moon Man and he had pushed his way into the room as if he belonged there. He carried his bulk with authority and appeared to be taller than he was. It wasn’t until he stood next to Irys that his true height was revealed. He matched Irys’s five feet eight inches.
“Those books belong to me,” Gede said.
Silence met his statement. Dax glanced at me. Incredulity flashed in his bottle-green eyes.
“My ancestor labored to banish all the knowledge about the blood magic, yet there they sit—” he gestured to the two open books on Bain’s desk “—for anyone to pick up and read.”
Irys said, “I doubt anyone but Master Bloodgood and Dax can read or understand the language—”
Gede cut her off. “It is all you need. One person to read it, to get ideas and to experiment with the knowledge. Blood magic is like no other—once you start you can not stop.”
“It appears the Vermin have discovered the information without these books,” I said.
“How do you know?” Gede asked. He peered at Dax with open suspicion. “Perhaps someone has been feeding them information.”
I stepped in front of Gede before Dax could defend himself. “Not from here. Besides, having these books might prove to be an advantage. Your ancestor Guyan defeated the Efe and perhaps the books contain information about how to counter the Vermin’s blood magic and to defeat the Fire Warper.”
“All the more reason to give them to me,” Gede said. “The Sandseeds will deduce a way to oppose the Daviians. After all, they are our problem.”
“Not anymore. They’ve gone beyond your problem,” Bain said. “We will keep the texts here. You’re welcome to study them with us.”
But Gede wouldn’t back down on his claim and Bain refused to give in. Eventually Gede rose to leave. He paused before me and scanned me with cold calculation in his dark eyes.
“Did you know Guyan was a Soulfinder?” Gede asked me.
Surprised, I said, “No. I thought he was the first Story Weaver.”
“He was both. You know nothi
ng about Soulfinders.” He glared at Moon Man. “Your education is pathetic. I can teach you how to be a true Soulfinder.”
My heart jumped in my chest. The prospect of learning more about Soulfinders both thrilled and terrified me.
Gede must have seen the indecision on my face. “You do not need these books to defeat the Fire Warper.”
Too good to be true, I knew there had to be a catch. “I suppose you’ll guide me with some cryptic nonsense.”
“Bah!” Again Gede shot Moon Man an annoyed look. “There is no time for that. Interested?”
Logic warred with emotion. “Yes.” Emotion won.
“Good. I am staying in the Citadel’s guest quarters. Come at twilight. The moon should be up by then.” Gede swept out of the room, with Moon Man trailing behind him.
Irys raised one slender eyebrow at me. “I don’t—”
“Think it’s the best decision.” I finished for her. “Think I should rush into the situation and hope for the best.”
She smoothed out the sleeves of her tunic, giving me a wry look. “No. I don’t trust him.”
I lingered outside Roze’s tower, debating. This meeting with her, Bain and Zitora could be a trap. She could either trick me into confessing to conspiring against Sitia, or it could be my chance to redeem myself. Nice to have choices.
Bain opened the door and said, “Come in, child. It is cold outside.”
Decision made, I followed Bain into Roze’s home. A huge fire crackled and popped, spitting out sparks, which would have burned the threadbare carpet if Roze hadn’t doused the errant embers with her magic. With the memory of her fire attack seared in my mind, I chose a hard wood chair as far from the hearth and from her as possible.
Spartan and bare, the room lacked the cozy comfort of Irys’s living area and the scholarly smell of Bain’s study. Zitora, Third Magician, perched on the edge of her seat, another straight-backed chair without cushions. She kept her gaze on her hands. They were laced together in her lap. Bain occupied the only comfortable seat. Overstuffed and worn thin, the chair’s fabric was close to tearing, and by the annoyed frown on Roze’s face whenever she glanced at Bain, I guessed he had taken her favorite spot.
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