The Fourteenth Key (The Chronicles of Terah Book 3)

by Mackenzie Morgan

“Well, we made arrangements to have a boat available to take you over to the island this morning, but I’m not sure it will be available after that. I didn’t expect it to take you long to see the island.”

  Gen. Crandal cleared his throat, and as soon as he had Tubin’s attention, he said, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Marcus will be here for a couple of days to investigate the raid. He needs a boat to get back and forth to the island and to explore areas along the river. He’ll interview people who live on the river as well as those in town, and he’ll also be looking for possible hideouts.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not necessary. We’ve already investigated thoroughly. We’ll give you copies of our reports.”

  “And we appreciate the time and effort you took to get those reports ready, and we’re looking forward to going through them. But Marcus was the primary investigator in a similar raid on Syrando. We think the same crew of slavers might be involved in both raids, and it’s possible some little detail, seemingly insignificant, might match something he heard near Syrando,” Kevin explained. “If it’s going to be a problem, I’m sure Asar will let us borrow the boat Marcus used to investigate the Syrando raid. I can go get it.”

  “No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure we’ll be able to accommodate your needs. We just didn’t see any reason for you to waste your time covering the same ground we’ve already covered, but if that’s what you want to do …”

  “It is.”

  “Very well.” Tubin nodded towards Marcus. “I’ll have a boat available for you by the time you return from the island. We have an excellent inn over the tavern. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there while you’re in town.”

  “Thank you,” Marcus said, “but I won’t be staying in town. I’ll camp along the river.”

  A younger man had walked up to join them, so Tubin turned towards him and said, “Sgt. Sturic, this is Myron and his associate, Marcus. I’m sure you know Gen. Crandal.”

  Sgt. Sturic shook hands with the visitors. “If you’re ready, we can go to the island now.”

  “Lead the way,” Gen. Crandal answered.

  It took a little over an hour to get to the island, but most of that time was spent on the dock deciding who was going and who wasn’t. In the end, only Sgt. Sturic accompanied them to the island.

  Kevin and Alek wandered around like they had at Syrando, exploring the houses, looking for signs of violence. The first house they went through had obviously been cleaned. The floors looked freshly scrubbed, no drops of blood, no mud, not even any dirt. The kitchen was spotless, not a glass or dish out of place, and no sign of any food. The beds were made, the clothes folded and put away, and the shoes were stored on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe. Not even one pair of boots or slippers was sitting out. All of the furniture was right where it belonged, nothing knocked over, nothing broken. But when Kevin went out the back door, he saw two broken chairs and a table missing a leg piled up near the woods. And so it went with all the houses.

  Gen. Crandal talked with Sgt. Sturic about the people who lived there. All of them were related, either by blood or marriage. The men were late thirties, early forties, and had all served in the local army unit. Sgt. Sturic assured him they were all proficient with swords, crossbows, and knives. They knew the risk of living on the island, and took being able to defend themselves seriously. The women were all competent with a sword and knife, and he’d never seen any of them, male or female, without a weapon handy. Even the children carried knives, and they were taught how to use them earlier than most.

  Marcus explored the perimeter of the island, but the only place he could find where the slavers could have loaded the captives without everyone getting soaked was at the dock, and it was almost full of boats. If the raid had happened at night there would have been room for maybe one slaver boat, but it would have had to be a small one, so if thirty people had been captured, more than one boat must have been involved.

  After an hour on the island, they met at the dock. Gen. Crandal asked Kevin if he’d seen anything that would indicate whether or not the same crew was involved.

  Kevin shook his head. “I can’t tell. Someone’s been through the houses and cleaned them up. All I can say is I didn’t find any signs of malicious damage, and I didn’t find much blood, just a few drops here and there, like in Syrando.”

  Gen. Crandal nodded. “What about you Marcus? Find anything?”

  Marcus shook his head. “If more than one boat was involved, they anchored off shore and took turns tying up at the dock. I couldn’t find any sign of either a boat or a landing party anywhere else on the island.”

  “That’s like Syrando too, but it’s not enough. Maybe you’ll find something to tie the two together while you’re asking questions.” Gen. Crandal looked at Kevin. “Anything else you need to do here?”

  Kevin shook his head.

  The general turned to Sgt. Sturic. “Who was the first person here after the raid?”

  “Me,” Sgt. Sturic answered. “We had a bad storm Wednesday night, lots of wind and rain. I worked around Rochdale Thursday helping people clean up. I came over here Friday morning to see if they needed any help, and that’s when I found out they’d been raided.”

  “Did you see any little piles of ashes anywhere?”

  Sgt. Sturic shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean there weren’t any. If the raid took place before that storm hit, which we think it did because none of the debris had been cleared up, any ashes would have been scattered, along with everything else that wasn’t tied down.”

  “Did you find any damage?”

  “Mainly downed tree limbs, nothing major. Either they were very lucky or they didn’t get hit as hard as we did. But if they’d been here Thursday, those limbs would have been cleared up.”

  “Did you find any spots of blood anywhere? Like there had been some struggles?”

  Sgt. Sturic shook his head. “But I didn’t do a lot of looking around. As soon as I realized they were gone, I went back to Rochdale and sent my unit out in patrols to see if we could find any sign of the people who lived here, but we were too late because we couldn’t even find out which way they went.”

  “What made you think the raid happened on Tuesday?” Gen. Crandal asked.

  “One of the women came into town Tuesday and picked up some cloth to make a dress for her daughter. When she bought it, she mentioned she was planning to cut it out that evening and make it the next morning. We found the pieces she’d cut out, all ready to sew, but not one stitch had been sewn.”

  “And you think the woman would have sewn the dress on Wednesday if she’d been there?”

  Sgt. Sturic nodded. “I know her. If she said she was going to make the dress Wednesday, she would have unless something happened to prevent it. I think it was the raid. And there was food sitting out, especially bread, at least according to my wife. She was one of the first women over here. She said it had been sitting out several days because it had gotten hard and mold had started. We know they were okay Tuesday. And we know they were gone by Friday. I doubt slavers would raid during a bad storm, so everything points to Tuesday night.”

  Gen. Crandal nodded and looked at Kevin. “Anything else?”

  Kevin shook his head. “But I’d like to borrow that report and read through it. Do you think Tubin will mind if we take it with us?”

  Sgt. Sturic shook his head. “He won’t care. He didn’t even ask me for it until he heard you were coming.”

  “You wrote it?” Gen. Crandal asked.

  “Most of it. I had the patrol leaders write up what they found and heard while they were searching for the captives. Those reports are in there, too.”

  “Good,” Gen. Crandal said as he started walking towards the boat. “Myron, Alek, and I are going back to Milhaven as soon as we get back to Rochdale. We’ll take the report with us and bring it back tomorrow night, when we pick Marcus up.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Thursday evening, shortly after Sar
i and Taelor left, Theresa told Hayley she was going to turn in early. She wanted to talk to Glendymere without anyone else around.

  Theresa waited in her room until she heard the door to Hayley’s room shut. Then she waited another hour to give Hayley time to fall asleep. After she felt sure she wouldn’t be missed, she slipped out of her room and made her way through the tunnels to the door that led to Glendymere’s chamber. She clanged the flying dragon against the iron shield five times and waited for Glendymere to answer.

  “Theresa, my dear,” he said after a couple of minutes. “Did I forget you were coming by this evening?”

  “No, I didn’t tell anyone I was coming. I wanted to speak with you privately. Should I come back some other time?” she asked before she opened the door.

  “Not at all,” Glendymere answered. “Come on in. I’m in my chamber.”

  A few minutes later Theresa walked into Glendymere’s sleeping chamber and sat down on the side of the stone basin.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I have some questions.” Theresa fingered her pendant. “About the pendant.”

  Glendymere tilted his head. “You’re afraid of it.”

  Theresa thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “I guess I am.”

  “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “I’m not sure how it works and I’m afraid of setting it off by accident. What triggers it? What makes it attack? And how do I stop it?”

  “Your pendant is linked to you. Only your desire can cause it to flare.”

  “You mean I have to want it to spark?”

  Glendymere nodded.

  “But the one time it did spark, I wasn’t thinking about my pendant at all. I was pretending to be angry, but I was scared. I thought the bounty hunters were going to kill us.”

  “Fear triggered it. Fear causes a desire to be protected, and the pendant fills that need by flaring up. The intensity of your fear determines how strongly the pendant reacts, even to the point of destroying the source of your fear.”

  “So anger doesn’t cause it to react?”

  “Not on its own.”

  “But Sister Evelyne told me I should have marked the bounty hunters. If the pendant acts on its own, how would I have done that?”

  “By wanting it to strike. Fear causes an unconscious desire. What Sister Evelyne was referring to is the conscious desire to strike. You have to want to mark someone and picture the scar where you want it. Then the pendant will follow your wishes.”

  Theresa shivered. “I can’t imagine doing that to someone.”

  “I hope you never have to. It’s not something to be taken lightly, and in all the years the sisters have worn those pendants, there hasn’t been one case of a sister abusing that power. Healing hands are a gift, but the knowledge that goes with it must be learned. The desire to care for others has to be strong to make a woman go through all that preparation. Sisters want to help. They don’t harm without good reason.”

  Theresa couldn’t help but think of Gerry and those poison mushrooms.

  Glendymere picked up her thoughts. “That was unfortunate. But even with all the harm she caused, she never marked anyone.”

  Theresa shook her head. “I still find it a very scary thing to have the power to do that.”

  “Imagine how Myron feels.”

  “I have, and all I can say is I’m glad it’s him and not me,” Theresa said. “I do have one more question. Suppose a sister marks someone and then finds out she was wrong, that the person wasn’t responsible for whatever made the sister mark him in the first place. Is there any way to correct that kind of mistake?”

  Glendymere shook his head. “The scar from my flame can never be removed.”

  Theresa sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

  “You worry too much, Theresa. Chances are very good you’ll go through your whole life and that pendant will never do more than spark. But it’s there if you need it, and you’re smart enough to know when you need it.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  After Kevin picked Marcus up Friday evening, Gen. Crandal met them in Kevin’s office.

  “So, did you find out anything interesting?” Gen. Crandal asked.

  “Not really,” Marcus answered. “The people who live along the river did notice a new boat in the area, but only one, and not a very large one either. It sounded a lot like the boat people saw near Syrando, but I’m sure there are hundreds of boats that look like that. It was in the area for several days, but no one remembers seeing it after the storm.”

  “Did you find any signs of their camp?”

  Marcus shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “We can’t be sure of anything based on a lack of evidence, but there are similarities.” Kevin turned towards the general. “Do you think we’re dealing with the same crew?”

  The general didn’t say anything for a moment, then he nodded. “My instincts tell me yes, but I don’t have anything to base it on. I’d like to go to Pylar’s Point tomorrow and let Lt. Martyn know about the second raid so they can be on the lookout for them, too.”

  “Maybe we’ll get luckier this time,” Kevin said.

  “If we do, maybe it will lead us to the others,” Gen. Crandal said.

  Chapter 33

  Saturday, November 2

  After the November meeting of the Council of Sorcerers, Rolan sat down at his desk to think. Gwendolyn was up to something, and he needed to figure out what. He knew she had slavers raiding in Camden, but that was nothing new. Her family had been in the slave business forever, and as much as she hated the House of Nordin, she’d been targeting Camden for years. So that wouldn’t explain her good mood, but she was definitely pleased about something. Rolan felt certain whatever it was involved Myron.

  Maybe she’d sent assassins after him. Rolan hadn’t heard about anyone new lurking around Milhaven, but he couldn’t remember whether he’d told his assassins to let him know if anyone else showed up or not. Besides, his men were focused on Landis and Taelor. And they’d only been there a few weeks. They wouldn’t know who was new to the area and who wasn’t. Garen would though, if he and his men were still in the neighborhood. They’d been there long enough to know who was new. They could tell him if Gwendolyn had sent any assassins out to get Myron.

  Then he remembered he’d ordered Cpt. Yardner to sell their families into slavery. Rolan drummed his fingers on his desk. They probably wouldn’t be in the mood to do him any favors right now. Maybe he’d been a little hasty in that decision. But if Cpt. Yardner could get their families back, Rolan could tell Cpt. Garen he was giving them a chance to redeem themselves. He could even tell them if they carried out their primary orders he’d welcome them back to Trendon and set them up for life. The more he thought about that idea, the more he liked it, so he yelled for one of the pages to find Cpt. Yardner.

  Fifteen minutes later, Cpt. Yardner knocked once on Rolan’s door, opened it, and walked in. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Do you know what happened to Cpt. Garen’s family?”

  “They were sold into slavery, just as you ordered.”

  “But do you know who bought them?”

  Cpt. Yardner frowned. “We sold them to a slave trader. I imagine he auctioned them off.”

  “Can we find out what happened to them? Where they are?”

  “I doubt it, but I guess we could try.”

  “I want Cpt. Garen to do a couple of things for me, but I’m not sure he’ll follow through on any orders from me right now. He might decide to ignore them, but if I have his family, he’ll do as I say.”

  “But you don’t,” Cpt. Yardner said, “and he probably holds you responsible for that.”

  “Not if I tell him I’d changed my mind but you’d already sold them without waiting for my final word on the matter.”

  “That’s not the way it happened.”

  “It’s the way I remember it.” Rolan stared at Cpt. Yardner. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  �
�No, sir, but I do believe you’re mistaken.”

  “I don’t think so, and my opinion’s the only one around here that matters.”

  Rolan stood and started pacing back and forth behind his desk. “I want you to write a letter to Cpt. Garen and have it hand-delivered. Tell him about your mistake and ask him to honor his position as a captain in the guard by following his orders. Tell him I still want them to try to kill Myron, but I also need to know if anyone else is in the area with the same orders, someone from another province, such as Landoryn. I want any new arrivals checked out. If there’s someone else in the area with orders to get rid of Myron, I want them to feel free to work with them. I don’t care who does the deed as long as it gets done. And tell him once it’s done, they’re welcome to come back to Trendon, and we’ll do whatever we can to recover their families, but if we can’t, we’ll help them begin new ones.”

  Cpt. Yardner’s eyes opened wide. “You do realize you can’t replace a man’s wife and children, don’t you?”

  “I don’t see why not. If they kill Myron, they can have any woman they desire. I’ll see to it. They can have more than one if they want. Meanwhile, see what you can do about finding their families. You might be right about them preferring the ones they had. But be sure they know if Myron’s eliminated, they get to choose who they want.” Rolan flipped his hand towards the door and turned towards the window.

  After Cpt. Yardner left, Rolan began pacing again. He hoped whatever Gwendolyn was up to wasn’t going to mess up his plans. His goals were simple. Get rid of Landis. Get rid of Taelor. And get rid of Myron so Damien will become Master Sorcerer. Then he could get hold of that key to the other world. Damien would let him use it just for the asking. Rolan was sure of it.

  Rolan sat back down in his chair and smiled. He could come and go as he chose, have anything he wanted, do whatever he pleased, and no one would be able to stop him. From what he’d overheard, he’d be the only sorcerer around. And there were no dragons there. As long as he was on that other world, he’d be invincible.

  But he had to get there first, and that meant he had to get the key, which meant Gwendolyn could never become Master Sorcerer. If that was what she was planning, he’d have to find some way to stop her, even if it meant he had to get rid of her.