"What was it?"
"The Lescha," Mekan said as he shouldered his way into the room and knelt near the Kemalan. He made another bow to her from his waist before saying more. "It is the waterway of the forgotten. Those who have disappeared are represented there as dolls in boats waiting to go on to the afterlife."
"Why shouldn't anyone be able to see it?"
"Only those who have lost or will lose can see it."
"But Hok…"
"Hok cannot see it, he can sense it but he cannot see it. He would know not to go near it though just the same." Mekan dismissed her and turned to the Kemalan. His words did a water flow through Jalcina's ears leaving her dissatisfied with what she knew.
"What did you tell her?"
"It is time for you to go," he said. "You cannot stay here. Cross is not the place for you. I perhaps should never have brought you." When he rose, he put a hand out to her. "We will go now before something worse happens."
Jalcina stared up at him waiting for his explanation.
"If you can see the Lescha, they can see you. It is not a happy situation."
Reluctant, she took his hand.
"What happens?"
"They desire two things: to make more of themselves and to not be missing anymore. In your current state, you would be someone they could destroy."
A cloud hung over his words.
"Is this the only place they come?"
"They are everywhere in Xernia, the souls of the missing. The sea is not forgiving. It offers much but will always take more. One day it will take everything back and man will be once more as he was, nothing."
Together they moved off the floating house and Jalcina looked back to see the Kemalan standing in the doorway with a slow moving fan in her hand. Waving goodbye to the woman, Jalcina wondered if she would see her again or another like her. Already she had seen this more than once in the world. It could happen again.
Mekan hustled her through the streets back to what could be called a dock if one were being gracious. However, the ship that waited there said it was a dock. It stood above everything around it with a powerful grace made of antique wood.
"This is meant to go into the rough and haunted seas near the Spire. She has no choice but to be so large." Mekan grabbed hold of a rope ladder leading to the deck and swung his way up. The way he moved made it look easy, but Jalcina knew from the time she spent onboard the other ship she was hardly strong enough to do the same feat. She did grow stronger though, so soon perhaps. She took the way up much more slowly behind him.
A rough looking man with a half-eaten beard greeted them with a bow and a word. Mekan patted him on the shoulder and passed by with Jalcina in his wake.
Others greeted them as they moved to what might have been private quarters if it didn't appear so close to being a storage area.
"You will stay here. No matter what happens at sea, you must stay in here."
"Why?"
"Because I ask it of you."
Ask. He asked it of her? Jalcina shook her head. "I refuse. Tell me why and don't lie."
His mouth screwed up at her demand, turning ugly and ill-formed. He may well have meant to lie, but Jalcina saw the way his thoughts turned in that moment as he considered her. He already had her in his power. Now he sought to confine her, again, aboard a strange ship he appeared to be in control of.
"I want you alive. I need you alive. Therefore, you will do as I ask."
Turning to the side, Jalcina huffed away from him with her arms over her chest. As soon as she could find a way out, she would find out what was going on aboard the ship. He would have no secrets.
"You must trust I will take care of you."
"You will take care of you. I am simply a means to an end and when I find out what end that is, I may very well kill you."
"You would not be the first to try." His calm assurance told her he spoke the truth. "Be easy. We will be on our way soon."
He had not told her how long it would be before they reached the Spire and without a proper window it seemed she might not know until they were already upon it. Sinking to the floor, Jalcina let out a huff as she rearranged her skirt. Her ears strained for the sound of a bolt or a chain meant to keep her locked away. None came. At first she imagined she missed it. Yet when she tried the door, it swung freely. Mekan hadn't locked her in.
He truly had asked her to remain within and let her have her word.
A smile quirked her lips. Trust.
Mekan stood with his men gathered around him in what had once been the hold. There were only a few. Only three were truly needed to make the voyage, but he brought seven as that was a blessed number among the children of Cross.
"She has come," Leaf said. The name was an affection which had long taken over for his real name, something much longer. Being from the mainland, he stood out a bit taller than the others. He was also the best of the fighters Mekan had. If he could have taken him to Arathum without arousing suspicion, Mekan would have. It no longer mattered.
"Yes, she has, and now we must remain guarded. I cannot be sure of her."
"Do you think she would betray us?"
"I don't know, but I don't know if she will save us either."
Voicing his concern made him have to think about it. This woman, who was not the Immortal but bore such power in her, might well be the key to their salvation. His late night talk with the Kemalan confirmed it. She was one of those who had come before and would come again. One of the lost so strong she would never become a doll like the others, but she could be used by them if precautions weren't taken, such as getting her out of Cross.
Now they would move upon open water in the places where many more of the lost dwelt seeking to devour any they came across. Where they had morphed into monsters and could no longer be trusted not to sink every ship to the deep of the sea. Perhaps it should have frightened him more.
Power sought power. It could not be destroyed, but it could be collected. The Spire had power, perhaps would it call to the woman as it sought to drag him back again and again.
"Your eyes have gone," one of his men observed. Mekan snapped his eyes shut. Whenever he felt the Spire's draw upon him, his nature clawed its way out. He shook the thoughts away, erasing the Spire from his mind for the moment. He would go back to it soon. It was his Northstar, the one thing he could never truly escape.
"Thank you. Stay away from her as much as possible. She is dangerous, though she hardly knows it."
Leaf joined him as Mekan moved away from the group to consider his next move.
"What happens now?"
"We take her to the Spire and we see what will happen."
The way Leaf's eyebrows went up told him he had said something amiss.
"What?"
"You don't know what will happen…"
"No. I cannot see the future beyond our arrival and neither can the Kemalan."
Leaf's mouth formed an 'o'.
"Be at ease, my friend. At worst, the sea claims us for its own and none of it matters in the end."
The mainlander did not share his enthusiasm for fatalism, but clapped him on the shoulder and limped away. Mekan watched him go and then rolled his eyes back in a gesture of weariness.
"This may be the longest three day voyage of my life," he said.
Surviving the Escape
Warden forced his body forward through the night until morning caressed his face and offered him some solace against the crush of running for his life in the dark. There was no one on what passed for the track he was on, but he didn't expect there to be at the hour of dawn. Anyone out traveling so early would be on official business and he wanted nothing to do with that.
He had come far enough from the mountain where there was grass to be had, sparse but there and he laid down in it to catch his breath. His legs felt as if they had been dipped in oil and burned. Somewhere he had lost a sandal and gained a gash in his right foot. With his face pressed against the earth, he huffed like a mule.
He chose his direction in the dark and ran until morning without thought of where he was going, only that it was away. Now with Arathum securely at his back, he had to come up with something better.
Once before, he had made a choice much like this one for exactly the same reason. He needed to survive. Survival meant staying ahead of his enemies, enemies who were looking for him. He hoped they spent some time looking for him down every cranny of Arathum before extending their search out into the wilds. He knew he couldn't hope for that for very long. Kendrick would expect him to flee.
Kendrick.
His name made Warden's brain squeeze like an overripe fruit gushing in various directions. He had done something to him, but Warden couldn't be sure what. The urges came and went without a tide or warning. He rolled over on his back and shielded his eyes from the rising sun. A plan, he needed a plan. Survivors made their own luck.
Warden waited long enough to assess his condition before sitting up again. Surveying the landscape, he oriented himself against the bulk of black mountain where Arathum sat. He could continue the direction he'd been going and he would eventually find a coastal road leading to Denden, which might offer him some solace, but he didn't want to go to the coast. He wanted to disappear further north.
Something in him longed for Utica and the chill wind of his former home. He'd gone back a few times, but perhaps this time he would go and stay. He would disappear into the deep lands, go beyond the forest where his family lay, and never return. He could do that.
He shook his head.
The urge to go to Utica fought a rising compulsion saying he needed to go to Denden and beyond. Why did he want to go there?
Jalcina.
The woman's name floated in his mind like a cloud blotting out every other desire. He needed to be near her. He needed to find her without delay. He needed…
Digging his hands into the dirt, he grappled for control of his thoughts.
It came from outside of him, Kendrick's magic forcing its claws into his thoughts. Warden didn't dare think it anything else. He brought his thoughts back to the swirl of winter he would enjoy at home. The frozen streets so slick one had to fight for their balance. Horses with shaggy coats and thick wide heads over legs like small trees.
Opera curled against his side as they lay huddled against the trees for what warmth they could get. All of them together like puppies waiting to die. Warden remembered that so vividly it dropped the temperature around him in the southern morning.
He brought his feet under him and winced at the weight on his bleeding foot. The only choice was to keep moving. Waiting too long would cost him his life and that was the one thing he wanted more than anything, to survive. He had sold men's lives for pennies but would never allow anyone to buy his for less than their own. Moving along at a walk, he swept his eyes back and forth across the horizon looking for anyone who might be coming. In his current state, he might be mistaken for a beggar or a hard on his luck bandit. Either might be enough to allow him to pass unmolested.
Warden limped onward and for more than an hour, he fought the urge to turn toward the coast. He put his back to it and continued north. No one else would decide his fate.
The riders appeared coming toward him at a gallop, their horses throwing up a wide cloud of flaring dust. Warden moved out of the way to let them pass, but one of them brought the group up short. He knew, without staring, the woman led them with an iron fist. Just what he needed, another overbearing woman who might want more than he could give.
"If you want to continue to walk, I will let you," she said as he limped along.
Warden didn't respond for a long moment stiffening against the tug of familiarity. That voice almost sent him running.
Jalcina did not frighten him.
Helenia did, but only because she kept the kind of private army one would assume the Immortal would have a problem with inside of her borders. They had done business a time or two.
"If you would rather not walk, then I could help you with a horse."
The men attending her said nothing, but arrayed themselves as if they expected him to take off.
Warden considered it.
It would do no good. If Helenia wanted to catch him, she had all the advantages. He brought his hands up and shook his head.
"What do you want, Helenia-Kel?"
"Oh, so you do remember me?"
"You are a hard woman to forget."
She chuckled and he knew that was the last sound many a man heard. It brought him no comfort.
"Get on the horse, Warden," she said. "I have a business proposition for you."
Her right-hand brought a horse around and Warden mounted with some difficulty with his right foot refusing to bear his weight. No one laughed, but he felt their stares. Helenia probably told them about him, which meant they had an idea of who he was. He did not cut the intimidating figure she described of course.
Once he sat secure on the horse, he turned to Helenia and said,
"What do you have to say?"
They trotted along with the others close enough to hear but far enough away that they might be considered alone. Privacy being dear, he didn't wait for it. She did.
"You are a very influential figure right now," she said. "Nearly a martyr some would say."
"I took a bad job." A simple way to put it, but true. His choice to take on the Immortal had been one of the poorest choices of his life. Nothing would ever make up for it if he lived ten thousand years. "What about it?"
"There are Glass Blades all over the country looking for you. To eliminate you as a loose end. And I'm hoping that will assist me."
"How so?"
"You make excellent bait."
He coughed.
"You're planning to take out the Glass Blades?"
"I need the strongest of them where I can get to them. Once I have them, then I don't need you. I let you go, I destroy them, I take over from the shadows and life goes the way I wish."
Warden didn't think too hard about it. She had a plan. If he understood it correctly, all he had to do was broadcast his location and draw in those too stupid to realize it was a trap. Any assassin silly enough to fall for it deserved what he got. It wasn't just taking a bad job, it would be making a bad choice.
It brought no species of remorse to him. If the Glass Blades failed, someone would replace them. If that person was Helenia, it would change things immensely. And then he could disappear, completely, perhaps well rewarded for being willing to help her take out her competition.
"What's in it for me?"
"Your life, of course." The sound of the horses hooves did nothing to hide the malice in her mouth. Blaming her would do no good. Their relationship was his fault. He chose his profession over her. He chose anything over her.
Not because she was a bad lover, but because she was a person who would knife you in the back for her own ends. He knew better than to allow himself to get deeply involved with someone like that. After all, when it came down to a question of his skin or hers, he would do the same. Wolves ran in packs, but panthers ran solitary. They were panthers. The Glass Blades were wolves.
Any trap they set would have to take that into account.
He looked up and realized they rode toward the coast and with a jerk turned his horse around.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm not going to Denden if that's what you're interested in."
"That's where they expect you to go."
"Who?"
"Everyone," she snapped. "After all, where are you going to hide on the mainland? Going north leaves you too much country to get caught in."
Helenia caught up with him easily as he wasn't riding hard. It took their escort a bit longer as they had to coordinate their movements to keep their flanks covered. Such precision she must have paid for with quite a pretty coin. Another reminder not to run. Running would get him a throwing knife in the back if he missed his guess.
"If I'm the bait, I chose the trap and I'
m not going to Denden."
Their eyes met and for a moment he thought she might well drag him by his neck to wherever she wanted. She had the strength and he didn't. Fortunately, there was enough distance between them to make that unfeasible. Instead, she pressed her horse in front of his and brought it round to face him.
"Where are you thinking then?"
Kerlan was too far away and he couldn't risk going back there. Too much Imperial presence. However, as she said, there was a lot of open country for them to use.
"I'm heading back to Utica," he said. "There are enough caravan places along the way we can use one of those to hide in. If you want the best of the Glass Blades, we're going to have to do some culling. They won't send the best to do something someone lesser can do."
The look on her face said she had considered that, but hadn't worked out yet how to get around it. So she wasn't just planning on using him as bait, she intended to have him do most of the killing as well.
Never one to miss a trick, Helenia, she would use him and then discard him with the kind of prejudice he expected from a jealous lover. It didn't make her mouth less kissable, but it made wanting to stay in bed with her much less likely. One preferred not growing a blade between the shoulders after the festivities.
"What are you thinking?" she questioned, letting him decide the direction.
"The caravan route is well-known. It makes it easy to predict and easy to use. And if I'm as terrified as they'd like to believe, they will expect me to go running by the most direct route to somewhere I can hope to get away."
Warden was far from as terrified as the Glass Blades would like him to believe. In fact, bolstered by Helenia's presence, he almost felt like his old self. The man who could stand against an army from the shadows and come out ahead. Unfortunately, just as he had that thought, the awareness there was something more to him came back. He clutched his chest and breathed through the stabbing pain.
He didn't expect Helenia to care as he nearly doubled over, but she caught him just in time to keep him from falling off the horse.
"Are you alright?"
Ruins of Fate Page 12
