“Shut the curtains!” barked Laskenay. Kansten obeyed, and the raven-haired sorceress cast a second spell beneath her breath, the fire spell, it so happened. The three candles in the room lit.
Kora explained before anyone asked a question. As she spoke, Kansten was hard put to swallow a number of shocked, angry outbursts; her cheeks turned red, and she took to slamming a fist in her open palm. Kora had not quite finished when her sentiments spewed out. “If this Petroc thinks he can force you to tramp all the way….”
“He can force me,” said Kora. “He’s deranged.” She resisted the urge to glance at her arm and looked instead to the third person in the room, pleading, “Laskenay….”
The elder sorceress had sat silent after casting Fwaig Commenz, by all appearances unrattled. Her calm was the same as her brother’s, and it frightened Kora until Laskenay spoke, revealing her uncertainty. “This man has powers to rival Zalski. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote half the spells in his own arsenal. If only there were something…. I’ve never heard of magic to counteract….”
Kora fought back the impulse to ask Laskenay to travel with her. She trapped it in her gut because Laskenay would never refuse, and Kora could not bring herself to deprive the League of half its leadership. She said instead, “I always wanted to see the mountains.”
“Well, I’ll be damned if you’re seeing them alone.”
“Kansten….”
“You said it, Kora, the guy is a maniac. And I’m helping you put him in his place. That’s how it is.”
Laskenay sighed. “If we’re risking two lives we might as well risk three. I’ll ask Lanokas to join you.” Kora bristled, and Laskenay’s voice turned firm. “Lanokas knows the safest route. He knows the safehouses on the way. That’s not to mention his telekinesis.”
Kora said, “What can Lanokas do that I can’t with Mudar?”
“You might find yourself too occupied with other spells to cast Mudar. Kora, I know you’ve been on edge around Lanokas of late. I don’t know the reason, and I don’t care. You need his aid in this.”
“Fine.”
Laskenay put a sisterly hand on Kora’s. “Nothing will happen to you if you keep control and use your weapons responsibly: that means Kansten and Lanokas, not just your spells. When it’s daylight we’ll go through the books, find one for you to study on the journey.”
“Do you honestly think that’ll help?”
“It can’t hurt.”
“You do realize the magic it must take to pull me from hundreds of miles and then be immune to my spells?”
Laskenay said, “He won’t be immune to your magic when you reach the Hall.”
“Or to my amulet,” said Kansten.
Laskenay agreed, “Or to that of Kansten’s amulet, so don’t be discouraged. If what this man says is true, facing him is the key to finishing Zalski. For two years we haven’t had the inkling of a key. We’ve done nothing but stall time with the wild hope that someday we might stumble on a piece of glinting metal. Now we have.”
Kansten smiled. “It’s made of red gold.”
“But who is he?” asked Kora. “Who is he? All I know’s his name.”
“Petroc,” said Kansten.
“Laskenay, he mentioned a brother, a brother Zalski tortured. Said he’d cut out his tongue. He must have been a sorcerer too, you mentioned a sorcerer a while back.”
“A man named Triloc,” said Laskenay. “He didn’t work with us, and I never met him. I’d know nothing about him if not for Wilhem. Triloc was a bit of a fool, it seems: a noble fool, but a fool nonetheless. When Zalski came to power and began his repression, Triloc wanted to make a point that not all sorcerers shared his mindset. He lived in Podrar, and started magically counterfeiting money for people to pay their taxes. Unfortunately, the magic wasn’t permanent, the money vanished after a time, and Zalski caught wind of Triloc’s schemes. Petroc must have fled to the mountains at that point. Zalski, as you yourself know, would gather the magicked beneath his shadow. He’d have realized Triloc had a brother, that the brother was also a sorcerer. Those things run in the blood. Kora, this really has no bearing….”
“No bearing on the chain, I know.”
Laskenay said, “I don’t imagine we’ll sleep any longer tonight. I’ll go speak to Lanokas, and Menikas, come to think of it. He should know what’s going on. This can’t wait until the day. You two, stay here for now.” And Zalski’s sister swept from the room, leaving Kansten and Kora to share an exhausted, exasperated glance.
445
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Return to Podrar
Kora spent the morning poring over spellbooks, taking advantage of what she expected would be her last chance to put new spells to practice. The first book she opened was the one that specialized in stealth and escape magic.
“This one,” said Kansten, “to blind, it could come in handy. A sorcerer’s no good without his sight, right?”
“It would be like cheating, wouldn’t it, if Petroc can’t reverse it, and if there’s any magic he could perform blind, it would be to restore his sight. He could focus his mind on himself. All he’d have to do is concentrate, and I don’t need him throwing that spell back at me, or at you.”
“Stop talking,” said Kansten. “If nothing else it could buy us a couple seconds, understand?” Then she furrowed her brow. “How can you not know if it’s reversible?”
“I don’t know how the spell works, whether it blocks his sight through magic energy or injures his actual eyes. Theoretically, it’s fixable by Desfazair or a healing spell. In reality….”
Kora and Kansten went through the spellbooks for what seemed like the millionth time, trying to prioritize what spells would be most useful. They could only practice a handful; a reflective shield to protect another and a binding spell were all Kora dared to cast on an ally. Then, comfortable with the new magic, she returned to the old. She lit and put out the fire, sent chairs and even Kansten flying through the air, turned Kansten into a statue. After that, what remained of the morning passed in copying more spells to study on the trip, with Kansten posing more of a hindrance than a help. Her constant commentary and requests for Kora to read whole paragraphs aloud prolonged the task, so the women had not quite finished when Lanokas walked in. “We leave in an hour,” he said. “Back to Podrar.”
Kansten glanced up from the table. “Who made you head of this expedition?”
“No one,” he said. “If we set out in an hour and go back through the woodlands like we came, we should arrive at dusk three days from now. That means at least one night beneath a roof. I have information for Neslan. I don’t think you’d object to traveling by horse, or that Kora’d neglect the chance to tell Sedder what’s going on. As the horses and Sedder are all in Podrar….” Kansten threw up her hands. “I also thought we could pass ourselves off as pilgrims heading to the Miracle Pool,” Lanokas added. Kansten exaggerated her gesture.
“The pool in Partsvale?” asked Kora.
“As pilgrims we could take the road as far as the last village.”
Kora’s heart lightened. “We’re taking the roads?”
“We have to, at least in stretches, so we’d draw less attention just to follow them. If nothing else, we can cross the Podra only two ways up north: by ferry or the road bridge. Both put us in the open. Did they give you documentation?”
“I’m Tranity Frallen as of two days ago.”
Kansten demanded, “Why can’t we cross in Podrar?”
“The forests west of Podrar are impassable.”
“And how can you be sure the Hall’s to the west?”
With Kansten’s interrogation, Kora realized how much she herself was willing to trust to Lanokas. She felt as easy about the journey as she possibly could feel, and admitted Lanokas would truly be an asset. Though she still was annoyed with him, she could not help but admire his effort at patience when he told Kansten, “Everything I’ve heard about the Hall puts it in the mountains, between where
the Podra and Petitt enter the plains. That’s since I was a boy. Menikas and Laskenay’s schooling matches mine, so unless you’re hoarding some intimate knowledge of geography—which you could be, you’ve surprised me before—we’re going north, then west.”
“Lanokas,” said Kora, “can I speak with you?” He went with her to the bedroom, shutting the door while she tossed mattresses aside with Mudar.
“I wanted to apologize, for saying I couldn’t trust you. It was wrong of me, when we’d both discussed a lot of personal topics. In my defense, that just made me more certain you weren’t hiding anything, and to learn you were, from Zalski of all people…. I looked like a fool, like a country bum playing at saving the world, you need to understand that.”
“If Zalski underestimates you, I’d say he’s the fool.”
“Can we just forget the squabble?”
“I’d love to.”
“Good,” Kora said. “And thank you, for making this trip. I don’t pretend you have something to gain from it. Are you sure you should risk yourself, though? You being who you are….”
“I’d be no safer here, you should know that by now, Kora. The journey’s worth it to be back in your good will, and to find out what this lunatic thinks he’s after.”
“How sure are you the Hall’s between the rivers?”
“Almost positive. Though it’s fair to admit that’s a stretch of a hundred miles, and the exact location was a guarded secret even when the Hall was new.”
But then, if anyone could find it, the Marked One should be able.
To deny what she was seemed pointless now. If the spell Petroc cast was designed to call the Marked One, well then, succeed or fail, it would be Kora’s task to confront Zalski, if she managed to survive confronting Petroc. To pretend things were different would only work to Zalski’s favor.
* * *
Kansten neither complained nor questioned anyone on the way through the woodlands. She had shown before leaving she would take no one at his word just because he had blue blood, Lanokas included; that point made, she was perfectly agreeable all the way to Podrar. On the second day, when they heard a crunch of dry leaves nearby and thought they might be followed, she signaled the others to stay still and crept off to investigate, bow aimed. A doe, it turned out, had broken its leg in a rabbit hole (Kansten had tripped in several herself). Kora healed the animal, and as it cantered out of sight, she envied Kansten’s constant presence of mind. Kora’s own had turned torpid at the thought of running across a squadron of Zalski’s men.
Their speed was not what Lanokas had hoped, meaning they reached Podrar three hours after nightfall on the third day instead of at dusk. They had the complete cover of darkness when they slipped into town. Kora would have liked to go straight to the Landfill, but Lanokas nixed the idea. “Not worth the fright it’ll give Neslan,” he said. “And I don’t want Sedder attacking me. I know what he did to that guard at the execution.”
Kansten said, “I’m sleeping on a mattress, not the ground. You two do what you want.”
So they headed to the nearest safehouse, the home of a bachelor merchant, and passed a comfortable, uneventful night. The next morning saw them up with the sun, and as Kora roused herself she would have given every coin she ever touched to sleep in. The trek through the woods had left her battered, and she had slept poorly throughout on the pebble- and root-strewn earth. The prospect of seeing Sedder was barely enough to force her out of bed, but she rose. Her group had to catch Neslan’s before its members went out for the day.
Kora’s trio found Sedder in the Landfill’s top room. He needed to get up from underground, he said, needed to know the sun was just beyond the walls, even if he could not open a window. He was on the bed, using a stack of notes to draw some sketches, but rolled up his various parchments when Kora walked in. Neslan and Bendelof, off on nightly reconnaissance, appeared in fifteen minutes. Bennie, who wore a bandana in Kora’s style, asked why in God’s name half the League had returned to Podrar: a question Sedder had waited to pose.
“To update you, for one,” said Lanokas. “Galisan ambushed a weapons shipment and a second round of jewels. We’re giving the gems to the Letter, so they can publish twice a month.”
“Twice as often,” said Neslan. “That’s incredible! It’s incredibly needed, is what it is…. Our news isn’t bad either. I wouldn’t call it good, but it’s not bad. More elites are joining the search for the Librette. Looks like our dear sorcerer’s grown impatient. He’s also tightened security at all the city gates, and we know details, the times of guard change on a four day rotating cycle….”
Lanokas said, “Clever, that. The times will be different on any given day from week to week. We exploit the system how?”
“By avoiding the gates,” said Neslan. “And the undercover guards patrolling the outskirts. I guess we’re fortunate no one ever rebuilt the ancient wall. We can come and go through the fallen sections like always, if we watch our timing. Other than that we haven’t found much. Believe me, we looked. Zalski seems pretty obsessed with the Librette. That’s his priority right now. So what’s yours? You didn’t come all this way just to tell me about the Letter.”
Kora told them about her “dream” and the ensuing quest for the mountains. Sedder turned gray by the time she finished, conflicted between wanting to help her—which would involve his joining her group—and knowing Bendelof and Neslan needed him in Podrar, at least until some part of the guard moved south. His duty to the League won out, for in thirty minutes of swapping stories and discussing tactics Sedder never proposed he go with Kora.
“So,” Kora asked Bennie, when important topics had been exhausted, “what’s up with the bandana?”
Bennie’s cheeks turned a little red, but she pulled Kora to the kitchen.
“Neslan told our associates here that one of us has to wear a headwrap—people must think you have some horrible scar or wart under there, I don’t know—so now all the women who work with us wear them, and they’re pushing them on people who don’t help us out. The trend seems to be catching on, and if it does, you’ll be able to move about in Podrar. It might even become a form of passive resistance, who knows?”
Kora felt confused as to what to say. Part of her thought Neslan was out of line, but mostly she was flabbergasted he ever thought of such a thing. “Why in the world would Neslan do that?” she asked.
“Because I told him to. Don’t be mad, Kora.”
Kora was not. Bennie’s idea was phenomenal, a way for the citizens of Podrar to stand safely in solidarity against Zalski’s rule. Headwraps were far less common here than in Yangerton; people were more conscious of style, a bit more uppity, and if the throngs started wearing them in protest, maybe they would recognize how great their numbers were and act accordingly.
The women rejoined the others, Bennie with a bounce to her step. Three hours went by as the six joked and reminisced; Kora only noticed the time when Kansten suggested they leave for food. Neslan knew of a tavern not too far away, run by a family they could trust, and the group prepared to leave.
Kansten, the last to exit, had just shut the door when blue uniforms poured from the cabins on either side. Kora’s companions dropped their sacks one by one, drew swords and daggers. Sedder pulled Kora behind him, his grip so strong his nails sliced her skin, and Lanokas half-threw Bennie to the back. Neslan reached for the cabin wall for support, hot guilt distorting his face. Kora knew at the first glimpse of a cerulean sleeve he had been followed.
Malzin, in matching uniform, entered the street behind her men. She and the guard outnumbered the League ten to six, and all rushed toward the outlaws. Kora pushed her way to the front to meet them; her chest was so tight she did not think she could gasp a syllable, but she yelled a string of incantations, yelled them clearly: “Attada! Espadara! Kaiga!”
One of the guards fell when a rope appeared from nowhere and knotted around his knees. A second stopped to match blows with an unmanned sword Kora had conju
red, the largest she had ever seen, while a third tripped over his own feet. Neslan and Lanokas stabbed the two who had fallen at the same time Kora ran forward, following Kansten, her dagger out. Sedder made a grab to hold her back, but missed. As she began to cast again:
“Very nice,” came a bodiless voice from behind, next to the cabin. The Leaguesmen scattered; Kora’s heart jumped, skipped two beats. “Pulgaqua!”
A steady, irresistible force turned the sorceress to face the voice. She crossed her arms like an “X” and her shell appeared, blocking a thick jet of water streaming toward her face, redirecting it to the Landfill’s front wall, which crumbled beneath the pressure in a heap of wood and dust.
Kora did not hear Zalski cancel his invisibility. He popped into existence, utterly unmoved, not three feet from the pile of debris, he and his fine black tunic speckled with dirt.
Lanokas and Neslan, back to back, were holding their own against the onslaught of three guards. The man who dueled Kora’s conjured sword fell to it, the hilt protruding from his chest. Bendelof, with nothing but a dagger, was busy dodging two larger blades. Kansten used her amulet to send the guard she fought into one of Bennie’s, who was closing in on the girl; the collision knocked both men unconscious. Closest to Kora was Sedder, because he arranged things that way, engaged in combat with Malzin, who was the equal with a sword of any of her goons.
Kora could think of nothing but to get Zalski talking, to occupy his mind and mouth with words that worked no magic. She asked the first question she could formulate, one that had risen restless within her that very morning when Neslan called Zalski obsessed and Kora inwardly agreed that obsession was a proper label for the sentiment.
“What do you want the Librette for?”
Success; her demanding tone diverted Zalski from incantations. A pandemonium of clashing metal, of cries, grunts, pressed so hard against Kora she found it hard to think. She let her shell vanish, and Zalski took a step toward her, his ice blue eyes piercing, so that she felt their gaze shoot through her, but she stood firm.
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 18
