“Simon will be part of my group.”
“Simon?”
“Yes, the man you’re always talking to.”
She went back to rolling the bandage. How did Simon feel about that?
Caleb leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. “The men are discussing other possible entrances, but there seem to be very few into Thyra besides the main gates.”
Nierne thought her way through the city, visiting each section inside her mind. She stopped when she came to the red district, her childhood home. She slowly looked up and stared at the fire. Her thoughts vanished into her past.
She was outside, playing in the dirt near the city wall. The area was only a couple feet wide, with the whorehouses along the other side. Two other children played in the narrow space as well. They were all filthy, with dirt-crusted hands and naked feet.
Nearby vines grew along the city wall and around a small door. She remembered men passing through that door. Rich, corpus men dressed in silk shirts, followed by young male servants.
As a little girl, she had wanted the pretty things the men brought—the dresses and jewelry and gold coins. The women who lived in the flats would hang a scarlet scarf out their window and the men would enter with their gifts. Once in a while one of the men would stop and look at her. When her mother discovered this, she was no longer allowed to play near the wall.
Only when she was older did she know why the men were there, and what their business had been. In her own way, her mother had protected her from that life the best she could.
Nierne finished the bandage and placed it in the basket near her feet. Should she tell Caleb she knew of another entrance? Only a handful knew about it. Perhaps one of the men in the meeting already knew, maybe had even used it. Why should she say anything?
“You’re quiet.”
“I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“What gates are you using?”
He studied her before answering. “Well, the one through the catacombs. We want to find a couple more so we don’t have all of our people in one spot, just in case of an ambush. Hopefully at least one group can make it inside Thyra.”
“And what will you all do once you are inside? You can fight the shadows, but what will you do when you reach the Shadonae?”
Instead of answering, Caleb leaned in close.
Her breath stopped but her mind and body raced. All she could see was the curve of his cheek and a lock of black hair.
“We have other ears listening. Come, take a walk with me.”
“What?” She looked past Caleb and realized they were being watched. Or more specifically, he was. Two older women and a crowd of younger women eyed him with open interest.
Nierne stiffened and rose. Their gazes switched to her. She ignored them and followed Caleb between the stone slabs around the fire. He led her across the room toward the tunnel he had exited from not too long ago.
The dirt padded their boots as they made their way back toward the mess hall and meeting rooms. He walked close to her, to the point where their sleeves brushed.
“How are you doing here, back in Kerre?”
Nierne furrowed her brow. “I am . . . that is . . .” Truthfully? She hated this place. She didn’t belong. Her journey had changed her. She no longer felt like a scribe, but her upbringing made her feel like she wasn’t quite a woman either. “I feel out of place.”
“Really?” He looked over at her. “You seemed to fit in quite well with those other women just now.”
“Rolling bandages?” She laughed, her voice carrying down the tunnel. “Not something I want to do the rest of my life.”
Caleb went silent and they continued along the tunnel, passing smaller corridors and rooms.
“So.” Nierne clasped her hands together. “Back to the siege on Thyra.”
“Yes.” Caleb led her into the room they had been taken to when they first arrived. It was empty, a rarity with all the refugees here in the mines. A torch hung from a bracket in the wall and a fire burned low in the fire pit.
Instead of sitting, he leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “The plan is to send multiple small groups into Thyra. One group to deal with the shadows. One to confine the soldiers. And one to find Rowen.”
Nierne leaned against the other wall. “Do they think Rowen’s still alive, after helping Simon and those others escape? Or,” she lowered her voice, “were the Shadonae just content to take her hand?”
Caleb stared at the fire pit. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if she still has her power, now that her mark is gone.” He lifted his own hand and spread his fingers out. A soft light glowed around his mark. “But if she still has her power, and if what Senator Regessus says is true, that she can help those who minds have been . . .” His face scrunched up as if he were trying to remember a word.
“Twisted.”
He looked over at her.
“We call it twisting. We don’t exactly know how they do it, but the Shadonae can enter a person’s mind and change how they perceive the world.”
“Yes, that is how Regessus described it. Even . . .” He let out a long sigh. “Even in my former days, I don’t think I would have done that do a person. Clean and simple were my methods. Well, simple anyway.”
Nierne shifted. She hated thinking about Caleb’s past, about what he had done, and how he had done it. “So you’re going to try and rescue Rowen. Do you even know where she might be?”
“No, not yet.” He closed his hand and let it drop to his side. “One of the soldiers she freed said she was staying at Regessus’s house. But since the breakout, she may have been moved.”
“To Cragsmoor, maybe?”
Caleb shrugged. “Perhaps. Personally, I would have done away with anyone who had betrayed me like that. But maybe the Shadonae want to keep her alive.”
Her stomach tightened as another picture of Caleb came into her mind, standing over a body with a bloody dagger in his hand. She shivered and forced the image away. Thank the Word he was no longer that man. “So just two groups?”
“No. There were will be a couple more groups to find the men who have been twisted and find a way to confine them. We don’t want to fight them. Hopefully their minds can be freed. And of course, to find any survivors who may still be in Thyra.”
“Do you really think there are any people left?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
“And who will face the Shadonae.”
Caleb was silent. The fire let out a loud crack and the logs collapsed into the pit. “Honestly, we don’t know. I can take care of the shadows, and Rowen can help those twisted. But we don’t know the Shadonaes’ weakness. Or if they can even die. If they possess the same power as Rowen and can heal, then assassinating them—”
“Wait.” She turned and faced him. “Are they sending you in as an assassin?”
His lips drew into one firm line. “No. I won’t, unless there is no other way. That life is behind me. I don’t want to take a life again, not unless I absolutely have to. I want to give these Shadonae a choice, if possible. I don’t know what they are, but perhaps they can change . . .” He looked toward the fire. “Like I did.”
“That’s a noble thought. But I don’t think they will change.”
“You never know.”
“And what if they don’t? Then what?”
“Then I’ll stop them.”
They both stood quietly and watched the embers burn. Her mind turned over Caleb’s words. She knew he would stop them. But she was glad it wasn’t the first thing he would do, no matter how small the possibility that the Shadonae would change. Then she thought back on the small door again, the one near her childhood home. “So you plan on going through the catacombs.”
“Yes. We are sending scouts to check out more of
the city to find other entrances, but from what they have observed, the Mordra or the mind-controlled soldiers are guarding almost all entrances into Thyra. Especially after the recent breakout.”
Should she tell him she knew another way? But what if he asked how she knew? Her heart beat faster. What if others found out? No one knew her past, other than Father Reth and the few fathers at the Monastery.
She could remain silent. After all, the scouts might find it. Or another entrance.
But that could take days, maybe even weeks. And it would put the scouts’ lives in danger just by going near Thyra. She could help everyone by saying something now.
Everyone but herself.
“You’re thinking again.”
Nierne swallowed. Do it. Now. “I might know of another way into Thyra.”
Caleb frowned. “You do?”
“Yes. One that I don’t think many people know about. It is a secret way.”
He folded his arms. “How do you know about this?”
“There was a small door in the city wall near where I lived when I was a little girl.”
“Wouldn’t Cargan or someone else already know about it? Especially Cargan, since he was a city watchman?”
“They might.” She refused to look at Caleb. Instead, she stared at the burning embers. “But maybe they don’t. It wasn’t well known. It was used for more . . . covert . . . reasons.”
“And how do you know this?”
Nierne shrugged. “Like I said, I grew up near it.”
He stared at her through narrowed eyes. He knew she was keeping something back. But she refused to divulge. Maybe it was pride. Maybe she wanted Caleb to think she grew up as a scribe, or was from one of the great houses and given to the Monastery, like Simon.
“All right. I’ll tell Lore about it. In fact”—he turned toward her—“why don’t you come with me? We took a small break and should be resuming our next meeting.”
Crackers! The last thing she wanted to do was to stand in front of all those men and speak. “Well . . . I don’t know. I could just—”
He was already at the doorway, looking out into the tunnel. He grabbed her hand, his skin hot to the touch. “This way. The room we’ve been using is not too far.”
Before Nierne could answer, he pulled her out of the room and down the tunnel. Coming from the other direction were Cargan and Juris, with Lore behind them.
Caleb dropped her hand. He waited for the men to enter the meeting room, then motioned Lore to the side.
She flexed her fingers, still feeling the heat from his palm, his mark like a hot coal embedded in his skin. Thank the Word his power did not involve looking inside her, like Rowen’s. She blushed at the thought.
Caleb spoke quietly with Lore. Lore looked in her direction and after a minute, nodded. He went ahead into the room and Caleb came back to her.
She frowned. Why didn’t Caleb say something to Cargan himself? Endre came along the tunnel with three other men. None of them looked Caleb’s direction. Her face grew hot and she clenched her hands. She had warned Caleb the people here might not accept him. It looked like she was right.
“Caleb, how are the men treating you in the meetings?” Her voice was calm, but she was seething inside.
Her bluntness must have surprised him because he twisted around and stared at her. “I’m handling myself. They ask questions. I answer.”
“They don’t trust you. Am I right?”
“It doesn’t matter to me whether they do or not. They trust me enough to consider using me.”
She dug her fingers into her palms until her nails bit into skin. “You’re willing to put yourself in danger for them? You said yourself you will lead a party through the catacombs. Do you know how dangerous that is?”
His face softened, something she had never seen before. “I do not serve them, Nierne. I serve the Word. I am a Guardian. So I will guard these people.”
She folded her arms. “Still, they could treat you better.”
Caleb laughed, the sound echoing down the tunnel. “Well, it’s nice to know that you care about me. Really, it doesn’t affect me. I’ve traveled the Lands numerous times. I know how many of the countries view Temanins. In some ways, my people have earned that reputation.”
Nierne gave him a sharp look. “But they don’t know you.”
“And you do?” His face turned serious.
“Yes. I like to think I do.”
He studied her, his eyes so dilated in the dark that they looked like black orbs. “Then that is good enough for me.”
Lore appeared in the doorway. “The men will see you, Nierne.”
Her stomach dropped like stone in a lake. Why did she agree to this? Oh yes, to save time and lives.
Lore stepped back to let her in. She hesitated, her hands now sweaty and her heart trying to jump out of her chest. If Caleb could serve these people, no matter what they thought of him, then she could too.
With that thought, she walked toward the doorway. No going back now.
Chapter
36
The moment Nierne entered the room, her stomach sank into the floor.
Simon.
Simon sat beside a long wooden table that took up most of the space in the small cavern room. He held a quill between his fingers, his eyes on the map spread out across the top. He was no longer the young man she had grown up with in the Monastery. Instead, he looked like a younger version of Father Karl—sophisticated, intelligent, and definitely a scribe. His robes had been washed and patched, and although faded, fit his body better than they had a couple days ago.
He looked up and smiled. “Nierne, what a nice surprise.”
Her stomach, already plummeting, now twisted and turned inside her. Why did he have to be here? She gave him a small wave and moved to the side.
She barely noticed the other men, only briefly taking in their faces as they sat down around the table. There was Endre, the shipping merchant. And Juris, the former watchman, a scowl across his face. And Regessus. The rest of the men she didn’t recognize.
Lore walked in and offered her a seat, but she declined. Caleb stood behind her, near the doorway, his body hidden in the shadows.
“Apparently someone spoke to you about our plans.” Cargan scowled at Caleb. “However, it seems it might have been useful. Captain Lore says you may know of an entrance into Thyra, one that we might not know about.” There was skepticism in his voice.
Nierne looked around at the other faces and wondered again why she was here? Someone else had to know about that door. Why reveal her past? Especially to Simon . . .
The torches flickered as an unseen gust blew through the room via a crack in the far wall. She almost turned and rushed out, an apology already forming inside her mind—
No.
The word rooted her in place. They needed to know. She blew out her breath. “Yes. I know of a way into Thyra.”
Cargan sat back and folded his arms. “Then by all means, share.”
The bravado from moments before melted away like ice before a fire. “There is a small door near . . .” Her cheeks began to burn and her fingers fidgeted with the bottom edge of her shirt. Just say it.
“We don’t have all day.”
Nierne stopped and raised her chin. “There is a small door inside the walls in the red district, near the whorehouses.”
Cargan leaned forward. The other men frowned, all except Senator Regessus, who watched her intently.
She glanced at Simon. He had a guarded look on his face.
Cargan tapped his finger across the table. “And how would a scribe of high standing like yourself know about a door like that?”
Her cheeks were so hot now she could feel the burn across her face. “I grew up there. Our flat was located near the door. It was used as passage for those who wished to
come and go in secret.”
“I know nothing about such a door.”
“It is beside the House of Roses.”
A small murmur broke out around the room. Regessus grew even more intent. One of the men coughed and turned away.
Simon stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Wait.” He held up his hand. “You were from the House of Roses?”
A battle raged inside her. Cower before these men or lash out. She worked her jaw and stared at Simon. “Yes. My mother worked there.”
“The House of Roses.” He opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “But how . . . why . . .”
Regessus leaned forward before Simon could speak again. “In the end, does it matter where this young woman is from? I’m sure we all have something from our past that taints us. What matters is that she has information we can use. And I will back up her story. I, too, have heard about such a door.” All eyes turned toward him. “No, I never went there—”
One of the men snickered.
Regessus ignored him. “Nor did I find out where it was exactly. But some of my colleagues spoke of it in the bath house.”
Nierne fought the look of disgust creeping across her face. Politicians, noblemen, wealthy merchants. They all wanted what every man wanted; they just didn’t want to be seen doing it. Hence the door had been built.
Simon, however, turned his attention back to her, his face hardening each second, his jaw clenching and unclenching. It might not matter to Regessus where she came from, but it did matter to others. It mattered to Simon. No woman of her background should have ever been allowed in the Monastery. She knew it, Simon knew it, almost everyone knew it, even those outside the Monastery. Everyone except Father Reth. He’d never cared about her past, only how to help her build a future.
Cargan rubbed his beard. “How easy would it be to find this door?”
Nierne swallowed. “I’m not sure. It might not even be there—”
“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Juris spoke up from the back, venom in his words.
Her whole body went rigid. “What I mean is that it might be hidden behind overgrown vines and ivy.”
Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 31
