by Cas Peace
He slowly relaxed, a small sigh escaping his lips as she numbed some of his pain. She was too drained to do more. Her arm was throbbing and her exertions over Bull had left her empty of strength.
Taran opened his eyes. The lids were puffy and swollen from the beatings, and the whites were bloodshot. He looked truly dreadful. He obviously felt dreadful too, for moisture came into his eyes and his breath rasped painfully. Stretching out her hand, Sullyan smoothed perspiration from his brow. He moved his head away, refusing her comfort.
She frowned. “What is it, Taran? You are safe now, have no fear.”
He gave his head a slight shake, refusing to look at her. Vanyr cast her a puzzled glance, which she could not answer. Instead, she rose stiffly to her feet, crossed to the fire, and poured a mug of fellan, adding a small dash of ale to it. A wry smile quirked her lips. Despite her disapproval of strong liquor, what she really needed was Ky-shan’s brine rum, but right now there was none to be had. Ale would have to do. Coming back to Taran, she sat beside him, easing her right arm behind his shoulders for support. Holding the mug to his lips, she encouraged him to drink. For some reason he seemed reluctant and drank slowly, the closed expression still on his face.
When he was done, she asked, “Better now?”
He refused to answer, but he was still shuddering. She could feel it as he lay against her. She realized then that its root was deeper than the pain of his wounds. Leaning into him, she took his hand with her left. He gave a small sob.
“What is it, Taran?” she murmured. “Something pains your heart. Tell me what it is.”
She felt him swallow, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh and raw with emotion. “I don’t know why you’re being so good to me.”
“Because you are my friend. I care for you.”
His trembling increased and she wondered at it.
“Well, you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it. I’ve brought you nothing but trouble right from the start. All of this is my fault, and now Cal’s life is in danger because of me and there’s nothing I can do about it. What am I going to say to Rienne? She’ll kill me for endangering him. And it’ll only get worse. It’ll start all over again when Sonten gets his hands on that bloody Staff. That’s what he’s after, and I told him where it is. I told him, Sullyan, even though I swore I wouldn’t! I suffered the beatings and watched Cal go through the same, all for nothing. I should have told him straight away. I should have known it was useless to hold out. What he did to me was one thing, and I probably deserved it, but I couldn’t bear what he was doing to Bulldog, what I knew he’d do to Robin. I had to tell him!”
Sullyan’s eyes widened and she stared at Vanyr over Taran’s head. Memories of their earlier conversation showed clearly on his face, and he nodded.
“Easy, Taran,” she soothed, still holding his hand despite his feeble attempts to free it. “Go over it slowly. Tell me everything he said. Leave nothing out. This could be very important.”
Taran was still trembling and it increased as he tried to order his thoughts. Putting aside all considerations for her own pain, Sullyan reached into him again and eased his aching body. She was surprised and gratified when Vanyr, unsolicited, did the same for her. She smiled her thanks.
Under this ministration, Taran calmed a little and drew a breath.
“It’s that artifact, the one I came to the Manor to tell you about, the one I brought back through the Veils with me.” His weakened voice was taut with shame and urgency. “Sonten calls it the Staff. It belonged to Rykan, and it’s what Sonten’s after. It can be used as a weapon, as I found out, but it was originally made as some kind of inanimate Powersink. Apparently, it can absorb indefinite amounts of metaforce and store it until the wielder requires it.”
He took another breath. “But that’s not all, as if it wasn’t enough. Sonten said it is also capable of stealing life force. Sullyan, he says that terrible thing can drain life force and absorb it whether the victim is willing or not!”
Sullyan froze, her eyes fixed blankly on Vanyr. The Commander’s brows drew down and he stared back, appalled. Neither of them spoke, and eventually Taran went on, unburdening his soul of its weight of blame.
“Sonten didn’t say where Rykan got it from, but I do know it’s very important to him, and he’ll do anything to get it back. You remember that noble I told you I killed—Jaskin? Well, he was Sonten’s nephew. The two of them had been working with the Staff without Rykan’s knowledge, and Jaskin managed to figure out how to control it. Their next step was to see if they could use it to steal someone’s life force. Sonten didn’t say this outright, but he hinted they were going to use it on Rykan once he’d taken over the throne. Then Sonten would have been the Hierarch, with Jaskin to back him up.”
Taran’s voice caught and he coughed. Sullyan felt the jolt of it before he continued.
“That’s why Jaskin challenged me that day instead of simply getting his huntsmen to kill me. If he had won that duel … if he had defeated me … he would have used that dreadful thing on me. I’d have ended up a drained and mindless shell. It appalls me even to think of it! They did it that way because they wanted to make sure their first victim didn’t suspect what was coming. They wanted to test the Staff’s power. And, like a complete fool, I walked into their clutches. Like some idiotic, willing sacrifice! I could hardly have made it easier for them if I’d tried. It was only pure luck that I managed to kill Jaskin and grab the Staff. I only held on to it because I was frightened someone else would use it on me. I never intended to steal it. Sonten must have been foaming at the mouth when he realized I’d escaped the tangwyr and taken it through the Veils.”
He took a sobbing breath and Sullyan knew it wasn’t over. She could feel the weight pressing on Taran’s soul and willed him strength to tell her the rest. After a short pause, he did so.
“My killing—murdering—Jaskin that day ruined Sonten’s plans. Part of the reason he took me was for revenge. But it seems I didn’t ruin them enough. Sonten has another Artesan with him, a man called Heron who I think is one of his commanders. I don’t know what his status is. Sonten intends for him to use the Staff now. He still has his sights on the throne. But what terrifies me, Sullyan, is that if he gets his hands on that terrible thing, no Artesan in the world will be safe!”
Taran’s voice broke under the weight of his shame, and tears spilled from his eyes. “Oh, if only I’d had the courage to tell you everything from the start! But I was so concerned for my pride. I was so arrogant, thinking no one would understand my problems. I have caused all this, and now poor Cal could lose his life. He might already be dead for all I know. You really should have sent us packing once I finally told you about the Staff. You should have sent us away from the Manor, back into obscurity where we belonged. But you didn’t, you befriended us. You spent precious time teaching me where I was going wrong, and then you raised my status. How undeserved was that? I’m not fit to be an Apprentice, let alone an Adept! It would have been better if you had never set eyes on me. No wonder my father never told me about you. I’ve been a failure all my life and he was right not to trust me. Hell, I don’t trust me, and I don’t think I’ll ever use my powers again. If we get out of this alive, that is.”
His shuddering increased once more as the emotion and self-pity flooded out.
Vanyr sat in stunned silence, and even Sullyan said nothing at first. Her heart had turned to stone when she heard what the artifact could do. How it existed, who had created it—certainly not Rykan!—she did not know. What she did know were the reasons behind some of Rykan’s actions. His challenge made perfect sense now, and she also understood Sonten’s determination to regain the Staff. He might not possess Artesan powers himself, but with a gifted subordinate under his control, he could easily revive his plans for advancement. In fact, she mused, this scenario might even work better for him, as he would not have to contend with Jaskin’s own power and ambition. The young noble might well have decided to dispense with his
uncle at some point, and even with the Staff Sonten would have had no defense against him.
With the Staff in his possession, however, and the Artesan wielding it firmly under his control, Sonten would be all-powerful. The mere threat of its use would buy him respect, and there would always be Artesans willing to serve him, even if it were with an eye to the main chance. A cold tremor ran through Sullyan. She had to stop Sonten at any cost. Not only for Pharikian’s sake, a man she was growing to love, but for the sake of every Artesan in the five realms.
Concealing her fear, she sent a message for Robin to hurry. He and the pirates were not far from camp, but were returning with caution. Afterward, she rested her cheek against Taran’s hair. Cradling his head to her breast, she murmured soothingly as the tide of his emotions ran its course. Vanyr sat in watchful silence. When Taran finally calmed and the tremors eased, she spoke quietly into his ear.
“My friend, will you hear me now?”
He was still too raw and closed his eyes and mind against her. With a sigh, she reached into his psyche, forcing him to hear her, willing him to see the truth of what she said. It was a breach of Artesan etiquette—and a lamentable breach of friendship—but it was necessary. As she was vastly stronger than Taran, even in her present exhausted state, he had no choice but to listen.
“Taran, you may not realize this, but if you think about it you will see that you saved my life the day you killed Jaskin.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued. “Had you not met him that day—or fallen into his clutches, if you will—had you not fought him and had the skill at arms to defeat him, Rykan would surely have remained in possession of the Staff. Sonten and Jaskin were not ready to make their move, and so Rykan would have had it at his palace. Marik told you, did he not, that something caused Rykan to fly into a towering rage when he returned from that banquet to Kymer? Now we know the reason for that rage, and I can well believe he was furious enough to put some of his people to death. The purchase or creation of the artifact would have cost Rykan dearly. To think of it in the possession of another Artesan would have been intolerable.”
She kept her mouth close to his ear, her cheek still resting against his hair. Such close contact must surely help him feel her sincerity. “Now that I understand what it is, I can tell you truly that had he used it against me, as was obviously his plan, I could never have withstood him, even without the spellsilver. You know this is true. Rykan would not have needed to resort to the desperate measures he used against me. He could have taken my life force and my power whether I was willing or not.
“Thanks to you, he did not have it and was forced to spend time he could ill-afford in trying to compel me, to break me down so completely that I surrendered. And I nearly did, my friend. My only hope, my only strength in that dark, fear-haunted place, was Marik and my memories of you, all my friends. They kept me going and enabled me to endure Rykan’s torture. Terrible though that was, it gave you the opportunity to find me. And then, Taran, when you helped rescue me from the palace, you saved my life a second time. For your skills and care helped bring me out of the deep, dark place I had fled to, and you helped strengthen me for what came after, when I knew I would not survive Rykan’s abuse. Your love and your friendship sustained me.
“This time, my friend, your bravery and strength in holding out for so long in the face of Sonten’s brutality might well save my life a third time. And this is the most important of all.”
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
She smiled. While he couldn’t refute the truth of her words due to the link they were sharing, he didn’t fully understand what she was saying.
“When I defeated Rykan in the arena, I was able to absorb his life force and his power, and later used them to burn out the poison. But I was puzzled, for some of his strength, the core of it, was missing. His rank was the same as mine”—she ignored Vanyr’s sudden snort—“so I know what his capacity should have been. And without this vital core, I could not completely eradicate the poison. There is still a tiny part left in my soul, and I had to accept I would never be free of it. But thanks to you, the mystery of where that core was stored has been solved. If we can stop Sonten and recover the Staff, it is just possible I can use it to destroy that last drop of Rykan’s poison, the one thing preventing me from returning to Albia.
“For if I am forced to stay here, I will die. Rykan’s poison will not kill me, Andaryon will. I could live, oh, maybe a year before this alien place begins to affect me badly, but after that, the end would be swift. So you see, my friend, far from causing me trouble, you have already saved my life twice and may yet do so a third time. Now tell me I was wasting my time coaching you and raising your status!”
She felt Taran stir, but continued before he could speak.
“I will have no more of your self-pity. You have strength and you have power, and it is your right to wield them. It is hardly your fault that your early training was flawed and incomplete. Such things, as you have seen, can be remedied. You have shown great courage and determination through a difficult life so far, Taran Elijah, and I am very proud to call you my friend.”
The tremor of his body, which had lessened while she spoke, increased once more as his emotions overflowed. She kissed his cheek. “One thing I do not understand. Sonten’s men were obviously looking for you and Cal when they took you from the hill. Was Sonten present when you fought and killed Jaskin?”
Taran nodded. “Yes. At least, I think it must have been him. He kept in the background and I never saw him clearly. Not even when he threw the Staff at Jaskin.”
She sighed, and he flushed with renewed shame.
“I wish you had told me that before,” she murmured. “Now, it all fits. Sonten was at Marik’s banquet. Obviously, you did not see him. I am not surprised. He kept himself well out of Rykan’s way. He must have seen you there with us. Had you thought to mention this mysterious figure when you told me of Jaskin, we might have been able to raise a memory of his family colors. Even a hint would have helped. Then I would have known to be wary that evening.”
He hung his head. “I’m so sorry.”
Sensing his remorse and distress, she kissed him again. “Forget it, Taran. What is done is done, and cannot be undone. Drink some more fellan, and then you should sleep. Robin will return soon. Then we can make arrangements for rescuing Cal and preventing Sonten from finding the Staff.”
She felt Taran’s jolt of fear on hearing his Apprentice’s name. “I think you need not fear for Cal’s immediate safety,” she soothed. “Sonten needs him whole to travel the Veils, and to direct him to the Staff. That will give Robin plenty of time to intercept them and enlist the aid of General Blaine. Remember, we know exactly where they will go. Never fear, Taran, and have faith. All will turn out right.”
Once Vanyr had helped her dress Taran’s wound, Sullyan settled the Adept more comfortably and left him to doze by the fire. She also saw to Bull’s burns while the big man was sleeping. Thankfully, he didn’t stir. That done, she asked Vanyr to re-bind her arm. He also made them some food, for which she was very grateful. She was sitting by the fire sipping fellan when Robin and the pirates returned. There was a flurry of activity as the horses were cared for and men allotted watches.
The noise had woken Taran, and Sullyan made the formal introductions. Robin then gave Sullyan an account of the last two days, and expressed his regret to Ky-shan over the loss of As-ket and Xeer.
Ky-shan merely shrugged. “They were just doing their job,” he said, but Sullyan could see the pain in his eyes.
She was about to initiate a discussion on plans for catching Sonten when she noticed Bull was awake. Earlier, following his introduction to Ky-shan and his men, Taran had told her how often over the past few days Bull had suffered from breathlessness. Sullyan, in her turn, told Robin the truth about Bull’s heart seizure. She was exasperated beyond belief to learn that the big man hadn’t mentioned his discomfort to Rienne, who could perhaps have help
ed him. She was even angrier now that he had disobeyed her orders to stay at the Manor. This, combined with the fear she still felt for him and her exhaustion, meant she was not in the best of moods.
She let Robin introduce the pirates this time. The banter and exchange of friendly insults between him, Taran, and Bull made it plain to both Vanyr and Ky-shan the tremendous depth of love, friendship, and camaraderie that existed between the Albians. This made her furious outburst all the more shocking.
Bull hadn’t spoken to her since waking, but every now and then he cast glances her way. She kept her expression neutral. Conflicting emotions warred within her, a sure and ready recipe for igniting her volatile temper. Part of her was terrified he would have another seizure, and part was furious with him for endangering both himself and their friends. Bull knew her temper well and was clearly expecting some kind of backlash over his actions. Yet she steadfastly refused to speak and just sat staring coldly at him.
Finally, he could stand it no longer. When there was a lull in the conversation, he said, “Major, I’m sorry I disobeyed you in coming here. I take full responsibility for what’s happened. And I’m sorry if I frightened you earlier tonight.”
She felt herself freeze, the heat of her fury crystallizing into a painful lump of solid ice. How dared he sound so contrite? As if a simple ‘sorry’ would wipe out all her fear!
“Frightened me?” she hissed. “Frightened me? You were bloody dead, man! Why did you not tell Rienne you were having problems? How could you be so stupid? Do you know how hard we had to work to save your miserable life? Do you know how long it took us to get you back?”
Her vicious tone cut the air, and every head in the camp turned her way. Conversation died in the face of her fury, and even the fire seemed muted. Robin drew back slightly and Taran’s face paled. Vanyr’s mouth dropped open and he muttered, “Bloody hell.”
Sullyan hadn’t finished. “You deliberately disobeyed my direct orders. You put Taran, Cal, and Rienne in danger to come on some damned fool’s errand. What good did you think it would do? How did you think it would help me? Would it have helped if you were caught by Rykan’s men? Oh, yes! Can you imagine what would have happened then? I’ll bloody tell you. He would have enjoyed playing with you, one by one, until I could stand it no longer. All that suffering would have been in vain. You might as well have left me to die in his palace! But did you think of that? No! You are a bloody fool, Bulldog, I should never have trusted you. Maybe Vanyr and I should not have exhausted ourselves to save you. Maybe we should have left you to breathe your bloody last!”
