Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3)

by Holder, Angela

  Elkan laughed. “Even today she asks us to humble ourselves beneath our familiars, but few of us are required to be quite so humble as that.” He reached into a pocket in his tunic and drew out a slim, well-worn volume. “This is my copy of the Law. Gurion wrote it, with the Mother’s inspiration. Would you like to borrow it? I can bring the first History tomorrow, if you’d like; he wrote that as well. I think you might find them interesting.”

  Vigorre could hardly bear the thought of touching the demons’ foul document, but he forced himself to take the book when Elkan held it out. Keeper Yoran would be elated to get it. They could learn about the demons and their slaves. It might even reveal vulnerabilities they could exploit to defeat them. “Thank you,” he choked out. “Yes, please bring the other one tomorrow.”

  “Good. The Law is rather dry if you’re not a wizard, but the first History is fascinating for anyone. It goes into a lot more detail than I have time to tell you about the founding of Tevenar and the Wizards’ Guild.” He chuckled. “Even Josiah got through it in less than a month. If you’re familiar with the language of ancient Miarban it should only take you a day or two.” He sobered, and nodded at the book in Vigorre’s hands. “But read this first, and think about what it says. Consider whether you’d be able to live under its restrictions.”

  He hesitated, then went on. “I know our acquaintance is short, but you strike me as someone with a wizard’s heart. The way you care for people, your passion to serve them, the way you show them respect and compassion, your fire for justice…” He met Vigorre’s eyes. “The Mother needs people like you to serve her as wizards in Ramunna. It’s not my decision, only hers, but I don’t think she could do much better. Think about whether it’s something you would want. That way, if she offers you the choice, you’ll be prepared to make it.”

  Vigorre should have guessed where Elkan was headed, but he hadn’t. The blatant offer shocked him. Yoran had warned him the demons would try to tempt him with their power, but he’d never expected the offer to come so quickly and openly. A cold wave swept from his scalp to his toes.

  He dropped his gaze and gripped the book so hard his fingers hurt. “I’ll… do that.”

  “Good.” Elkan took a deep, relieved breath and waved him toward the entrance. “You’d better head home now. Don’t want to keep your family waiting.”

  “No.” Vigorre forced himself not to break into a run as Elkan accompanied him across the space and past the guards. “Um, good-night.”

  “Good-night. See you tomorrow?” Elkan’s manner was casual and pleasant, but there was a touch of tension in the words.

  Vigorre gulped. “Tomorrow.” He stretched his lips into a smile he hoped didn’t look as horribly fake as it felt. “Bright and early.”

  Elkan’s smile was unmistakably genuine. “Till then.”

  Vigorre jerked a nod and made his escape. He kept his pace to a brisk stride until he rounded a corner and buildings blocked him from the wizard’s sight. Then he ran as if the demons of a thousand nightmares were pursuing him.

  A block from home he dropped to an exhausted walk and struggled to slow his heaving breaths. He was safe. Even tomorrow when he would have to return to the Beggars’ Quarter and the demons’ cursed corner, he need not fear. Keeper Yoran had promised the demons couldn’t possess him against his will.

  Dear Mother, he hadn’t known his will was so weak. Half of him wished he were free to throw Elkan’s book in the fire, but the other half longed to scour its pages, searching for evidence that the wizard spoke the truth. If only the Purifiers were wrong, and the lovely, magical, healing light really did come from the Mother.

  But that was impossible. Nirel’s experience proved it. He’d have to believe she’d either seriously misunderstood what she’d seen, or had made up the whole account. And neither of those things could be true. The events she’d described to him couldn’t possibly be interpreted any other way. And what reason could she have to lie to him?

  Why had she come to the square today? She’d been so adamant that the wizards must never learn of her presence in Ramunna. What had made her throw away the secrecy that kept her safe? He’d meant to speak with her once they were away from the wizards, but Elkan’s offer had thrown him so badly he’d forgotten about her.

  He couldn’t leave her to walk back to her village alone. Nathenarre would be annoyed with him for delaying, but he’d dealt with her displeasure before.

  Instead of turning onto the short street lined with enormous, elegant houses and entering the largest, most imposing of them as he usually did, he took the alley that led to the carriage house in the rear. Servants hitched his favorite horse to the two-seater, and he drove it back downhill.

  He intercepted Nirel several blocks from the Beggars’ Quarter, trudging wearily toward the market. He pulled up beside her. “Care for a ride, lovely lady?”

  She looked up with an annoyed expression. It transformed when she recognized him, but not to the pleased welcome he’d usually expect. Was it fear that briefly flashed in her eyes before she rearranged her features into a rueful grin? “If you’re going my way,” she said, as she accepted his extended hand and clambered to the seat beside him.

  “I’d go far out of my way for you,” he said as he flicked the horse into motion. After he maneuvered back into the flow of traffic he dropped the banter. “Nirel, are you all right? Why in the Mother’s name did you show yourself to the wizards?” He voiced the suspicion that had been gnawing on him all day. “Did Ozor make you?”

  She shrugged and looked away. “I tried to argue him out of it, but he insisted. He said they wouldn’t dare do anything to me with people watching. With this new moneymaking scheme of his, he knew they’d find out about us sooner or later. He wanted me to get them to declare in front of everyone that they’d leave us alone.” She turned back to him with a wry grin. “And it worked. Thank you for defending me—it pushed Elkan into saying exactly what we needed him to. Now that they’ve pretended to welcome me, they can’t contradict themselves and let people know they’re really our enemies without destroying their disguise.”

  “So no one will suspect them if they secretly have you killed!” Vigorre wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and drew her close, his heart pounding. “You know the truth about them! Don’t you think they’ll go to any extreme to keep you from exposing it?”

  She pressed into his side before drawing away. “I let them know that we plan to publicly uphold their story. As far as anyone in Ramunna knows, we believe everything they say about serving the Mother and only wanting to help people. Now they know we’re not going to tell, they have no reason to silence us.”

  “But they’re demons!” He kept his voice quiet, though intense, but at her frantic look he dropped it even further. “You can’t expect them to act rationally.”

  She grimaced. “Tell that to Ozor. He threatened to throw me and my father out of the village if I didn’t cooperate. What choice did I have?”

  “I think I will.” Vigorre tightened his grip on the reins and urged the horse to greater speed. “I think that when we reach the village I’ll tell him exactly how I feel about him using you this way. With my fists, if necessary.”

  “Vigorre, no!” Nirel grabbed his arm. “You can’t! Please, don’t let him know I told you about this. Or—about the wizards.” She stared at him, her face chalky. “He’d kill me.”

  “Let me take you away from there,” Vigorre said with quiet urgency. “Father will arrange the betrothal tomorrow if I ask. We can be married in a month. You’ll never have to fear Ozor again.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I wish I could. But my father would never agree. He insists I follow Tevenaran custom and wait until I’m twenty.”

  That seemed an eternity. “I know Keepers who’d waive the requirement for you to have your parents’ permission before you’re sixteen. As long as you clearly wanted to marry me.”

  She shook her head against hi
s arm. “I can’t leave my father, Vigorre. Please don’t ask me to.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re so loyal to him.” On the few occasions he’d met Kabos, the man had glowered at him as if he’d like nothing better than to pound Vigorre into a pulp for daring to look at his daughter. He’d regarded Nirel with nearly as much loathing. But he’d never said anything openly hostile, only spoken the bare minimum of gruff, clipped words, all the time scowling at Vigorre as if he believed him a rapist.

  “I know he doesn’t show it, but he really does love me. And I love him.” Before Vigorre could object further, she straightened and twisted to look at him. “Why were you there? You know the truth about the wizards as well as I do. Why are you pretending you want to help them?”

  He glanced around reflexively, although no one could possibly hear him over the varied noises of the busy street, packed with people returning home at the end of the day. He kept his voice a low hiss. “I went to Yoran Lirolla this morning and pledged myself to the Purifiers. He asked me to befriend the wizards. I’m spying on them. Eventually I’m going to lead them into a trap.”

  Nirel gaped at him. He hurried on. “It’s working perfectly. Elkan practically invited me to become a wizard. Look, he gave me this. It’s their book of laws.” He pulled the slender volume from his robe and displayed it to her. “Just think how much we can learn about them from this. It’s full of lies, of course. Elkan tried to convince me it was written by the prophet Guron himself, can you believe it? But I expect there are truths there as well, for those who know how to spot them.”

  Nirel stared at the book. She licked her lips. “Can I see it?” she asked in a strained voice.

  Vigorre hesitated, but there was no reason to refuse. “All right.”

  She took the book and opened it to the first page. Her eyes scanned it intently. When she reached the bottom she flipped to the next page and continued reading.

  All the way through the market and the Dualist Quarter she devoured the contents of the book, never speaking, only occasionally stiffening or furrowing her brow or moving her lips slightly. She was nearly three-quarters of the way through when they passed a huge tent that had been erected beside the main road and turned onto the little lane that led through the middle of the village.

  She only lifted her head when Vigorre halted the carriage outside her house. He extended his hand. “I wish I could let you finish, but I have to show it to Keeper Yoran tonight.”

  She clutched it. “If you want, I can write out a version in Ramunnan for you. Modern Tevenaran script is pretty different from ancient Marvannan. ”

  “I’ll tell Keeper Yoran you offered.” He grasped the book. “But he’ll want to see the original right away. And Elkan will expect me to bring it back tomorrow.”

  Nirel let it slide from her fingers, shrugging as if it wasn’t very important to her. “Maybe I can read the rest in the morning, if you’ll pick me up and drive me to the Beggars’ Quarter.”

  “You’re going back?” He searched her face. “Why? You’ve done what Ozor asked.”

  “He wants me to keep an eye on them. Warn him if I think they may try anything.” She essayed a not-very-successful smile. “And I’ll get to spend the day with you.”

  “I’ll enjoy your company, but I’d rather you stay away from danger.” He’d have to continue working with the wizards, if she did. He wasn’t about to let her go near them alone. “Are you sure it won’t be too hard to be around the demons? After what they did to you?”

  She twisted her mouth into a rueful grimace. “They never drop the pretense in public. Even people in Elathir who’ve been around wizards their whole lives have no idea of the truth.”

  “All right.” At least he’d be able to personally guard her. “They may be careless around you, since they know you already know. You can tell me anything you see, and I’ll pass it to Keeper Lirolla.”

  “Yes.” She leaned in, inviting a kiss, and he complied with fervor. She was so dear to him. He wanted nothing more than to protect her. With his life, if he must.

  After a long, but still much too brief time, she pulled away. “See you in the morning,” she promised as she climbed from the carriage.

  “Bright and early,” he told her, with far more enthusiasm than the last time he’d spoken those words.

  She grinned and waved as she ducked into her house. He waited until she was completely out of sight before he maneuvered the carriage into a tight turn and headed home.

  He drove quickly and took a few shortcuts through some of the rougher sections of the city, so he was only a little late. His new Keeper robes, though they were dusty and sweaty from the long day’s work, were suitable for even the most formal occasions, so he didn’t take the time to change, only washed his face and hands and ran a quick comb through his hair. Nathenarre was pickier about such things than his last stepmother had been. But she could only require so much decorum when Father insisted that all four of Vigorre’s younger half-siblings be included at the dining table, instead of being served their meals separately in the nursery as was the practice in most aristocratic families.

  He arrived in the drawing room just as the tinkling bell announced the evening meal was ready. He fell into his usual place behind his father. Nathenarre led them into the dining room. They seated themselves around the long table with its abundance of shining silver, glistening crystal, and spotless white linen.

  Father waited until the servants had placed the first course—a delicate pastry confection stuffed with exotic mushrooms, herbs, and cheese—in front of each of them and retired to the kitchen. He nodded at Vigorre as he picked up his fork and dug in with every sign of great enjoyment. “I received your note. Now that you’re a full Keeper you have more freedom to decide how you serve the Mother, but I hope you don’t choose to abandon your duties at the Temple very often. Others had to make up for the work you left undone.”

  The delicious appetizer suddenly tasted like dust in Vigorre’s mouth. Only his father could deliver such a severe rebuke in such a mild, reasonable tone of voice.

  He swallowed. “I’m sorry, Father. I wouldn’t have left you shorthanded if it hadn’t been urgent.” He glanced down the table. Alna and Bravenorre were talking over each other, telling Nathenarre about how their governess had taken them to see a traveling menagerie filled with animals from every corner of Ravanetha. The twins, who’d been left behind, listened with envy and occasional exclamations of disbelief.

  Vigorre dropped his voice. “I went to see Keeper Yoran this morning, Father.”

  Father nodded, carefully neutral. “So I gathered. What did you decide?”

  Vigorre studied his plate. “I made my vows to the Purifiers.”

  Only a slightly louder than normal indrawn breath betrayed his father’s reaction. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Although I hoped you’d choose otherwise.”

  Vigorre raised his eyes and forced himself to meet his father’s gaze. “I had to, Father. You know what Nirel saw. After the ceremony, Keeper Yoran showed me the Purifiers’ secret text. It confirms everything! The holy Yashonna described the demons and warned of their return. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while those very demons are free to work their will in the heart of Ramunna.” He poked at the pastry with his fork. “You knew all along, didn’t you? What the text says?”

  “I’ve read it, yes.” Father tilted his head and studied Vigorre. “I’m not entirely convinced of its authenticity, however. There are grave doubts as to whether it was truly penned by Yashonna.”

  “But now we have proof that what it says is true.”

  “It would seem so. At least, we know for certain that animals do provide certain individuals with powers that greatly resemble those our records describe as being granted to the ancient wizards by the Mother.”

  Vigorre stabbed at a mushroom. Why did Father insist on being so cautious? “And we know they’re hostile to the Mother, and enslave those who serve them, and kill any who try to
oppose them.”

  “If we take Nirel’s story at face value, yes.”

  Vigorre slammed his fork down. “She’s not lying!”

  “I didn’t say she was.” Father’s voice stayed maddeningly reasonable. “There could be many possible explanations for what she witnessed. Please use proper table manners.”

  Scowling, Vigorre picked up his fork and placed it silently on his plate in the position that indicated he’d eaten as much as he wished of the course. “You don’t believe there’s any other explanation than the obvious.”

  “Right now, no. I’m inclined to think the Purifiers have the truth of the matter. But I haven’t come to a final conclusion yet. I need to watch more of what these Tevenaran wizards do, first.”

  Vigorre took a deep breath. “I spent the afternoon working with them. Keeper Yoran wants to learn more about them, too. He asked me to befriend them and act as his eyes and ears.”

  He could see his father’s sharpened interest in the way his eyebrows rose slightly. “And what did you observe?”

  Vigorre let out his breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Their power is real. They spent many hours and huge amounts of effort healing people. Rich or poor, highborn or low, they made no distinction. The only thing that mattered was the severity of the problem. Those dying, or near to it, or in pain, they helped first.” He closed his eyes, picturing how the interactions had gone, over and over. “They were unfailingly kind, courteous, and attentive. Even at the end of the day, when I was exhausted and they seemed far more so, they maintained a professional demeanor. They treated their beasts with affection, as one might a favorite horse or hound.”

  “Others have reported the same.” Father savored another bite of pastry. “Such accounts make me doubt they’re demonic in nature. Why would demons show such generosity, pouring out healing unstintingly without asking for any reward? Isn’t that more characteristic of those truly dedicated to the Mother?”