“He didn’t. He walked to the end of the corridor, flanked by his conspirators, one of whom stopped as he reached the tapestry and said maybe they should check it, it did run to the floor. Zalski responded from the other end of the hall there wasn’t time. They needed to find the queen, search her chambers. The guard ignored him and started pulling down the tapestry. Half of it fell away.”
“That couldn’t have pleased Zalski,” Kora whispered.
“No, he shouted something that sounded like a foreign tongue. His voice carried that time. I had no clue what the spell had done, but the guards fell into line without protest or murmurs and followed him away. Thank God, the tapestry still hung from one end, concealing the space where we’d crammed ourselves.
“Neslan was staring at me with horror in his eyes. I stared at him for maybe ten seconds, then reality came flooding back: Zalski was moving straight toward my brother’s chambers. In a matter of moments he would find a shattered window, the bodies of three of his henchmen on the floor, another two against the Palace’s outer wall, that of the queen crumpled in the corner…. And the rightful king missing. We pulled Menikas out to the corridor, and we found a soldier standing frozen, facing the wall, his hand outstretched to grasp the tapestry that now fell in its entirety. His skin was a, a horribly unnatural color, like stone. I didn’t dare try to touch him to see if he’d hardened like stone as well.”
“Had Zalski killed him?” Hayden asked.
“No,” said Kora. “No, I know that spell, it’s easily reversible. Zalski was making a point to the other men about challenging him, that’s all.”
“Neslan and I had known Zalski since we were born. To find out the way we did about his sorcery, from Valkin…. To have it proved before us in those circumstances…. It was a shock. Granted, I’d never told Neslan I was telekinetic, but my powers were—are—nothing compared to Zalski’s.
“Neslan and I dragged Menikas to the passage entrance. I don’t know how we did it, but we were lucky, we met no one else on the way. We carried him down a set of spiral stairs and through the passage itself, until we reached the Temple of the Giver, the vault where they prepare bodies for funerals. We found it empty, because no one awaited burial that day. We bandaged Menikas properly and brought him back to consciousness before fleeing the building all disguised as priests. I forced him to move at a dangerous pace, but I thought Zalski might find the passage, follow us out.”
Kora felt sick to her stomach. She wished she had never heard the story. Her imagination was vivid, and as she knew the people involved, had been to the Crystal Palace, the images Lanokas evoked were as clear as her own memories.
Bidd was the first to stir. Kansten glared at his back as he looked to the horses. He said softly, “I think they’re finished.”
Lanokas replied, “Then we should move on.” He climbed to his feet. Kora wanted to console him, if only with a look, but Lanokas seemed determined not to look at her, to look at anyone. Kansten reached him before anyone else and patted the side of his arm. Even that failed to draw his eyes, though he held her hand to his bicep for a second to acknowledge the gesture before Kansten let him walk ahead.
They passed the day harried to make good time, speaking little, and slept that night on the far side of a hill two hundred yards from the road: the best cover they could hope to find for miles, Bidd assured them. He had been this way before. Lanokas suggested they split the night in half and stand guard in pairs, to ensure Kora would not take watch alone. At least he refrained from singling her out, because he said nothing to shame her, and Kora knew Kansten did not blame her for the morning’s fiasco. Quite the contrary, Kansten had defended her. Remembering such, Kora felt a surge of affection for the gruff, difficult woman, and was disappointed when Bidd drew the lot of sleeping the night through. She rather thought Kansten deserved it, but Kansten would take second watch with Hayden. Kora and the prince took the first.
The night was cloudy but free of fog, and they could not risk a fire for the smoke. Kora wrapped a thick shawl about her shoulders, grateful Laskenay had made her take it. Lanokas wore a cloak. The two sat in plain view of the others but far enough away that they could whisper, perched near the hilltop. Lanokas opened conversation.
“A lot’s changed since we last stood watch together, hasn’t it?”
“The day I met Zalski.” Before Sedder’s death that had been, even before Petroc. Lanokas had been dying to know what the sorcerer wanted with her. Now Kora was the one with questions, and she knew the prince would answer.
“Your story from this morning, you hadn’t told it before, had you?”
“Not me, no. But Neslan has.”
“How did you move Menikas from the temple?”
“A hired carriage. It was safe,” he insisted, when Kora clicked her teeth. “We were in disguise, and Zalski planned his coup in stages. He kept everything contained in the Palace for a day, at least a day. We went to Laskenay: to warn her, for one, and because we knew she was a sorceress, thanks to her husband. We hoped she could heal Menikas, and she did make his wound smaller. She prevented infection as well, which is what truly saved his life. Some emergency spells were all she really knew back then, but they proved sufficient. Once Menikas was stable, she rushed to her parents’ home to find her mother dead.”
“Not alone she didn’t?”
“We’d just told her Valkin had died, and that Zalski more than likely had killed her father. Neslan was with her, and I’m glad he was, considering their discovery.
“This might sound odd, but Zalski killed his mother from compassion. He didn’t want her to live with the pain of losing her husband to her son. He was kinder to her by far than to any victim since.”
“He had no grudge against the woman.”
“She had no magic, so she couldn’t be a traitor. And it was Zalski’s father, more than she, who stifled Zalski’s powers, so no, he didn’t grudge her.” The prince paused. “Laskenay took what spellbooks she could find in the house. That’s where her collection started.”
“Why didn’t Zalski kill his sister before the coup?”
“I’ve wondered that for years. Perhaps there wasn’t time. Perhaps he never planned to kill her, only to coerce her to stand behind him. After all, he wouldn’t want to squander her talent.”
That sounded like Zalski. “He didn’t want to waste mine, that’s for sure.”
“Perhaps he knew she’d turn against him, and so wanted her to suffer such loss as she did. He can be spiteful, Zalski. He could also have planned to arrest her before she heard enough to flee. She’d have hanged, a traitor against magic, knowing full well what lives her brother took. I don’t know what he intended.”
“But you had a full day before Zalski stretched out from the Palace. Didn’t you try to stop him? To sound an alarm?”
“I did what I could: I warned my father’s general, via letter. I couldn’t risk approaching him. Zalski probably had an ally in the army, you see. I warned Alten Grombach as much.”
Kora held her breath. “Did Zalski have one?”
“Alten himself. The general himself, he headed the operation to extend control. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him.”
“I’ve read the name, in the Letter, but no one in the League’s mentioned him. Ever since I joined there’s been something urgent: that first raid, the Librette, my sorcery, Wilhem, Petroc….”
“That’s some list. Still, someone should have spoken.”
“So what should I know?”
“I’ve confronted Alten once since my father’s death. He slipped away, but not before he revealed a few things he should have kept concealed.” Kora scooted closer to Lanokas. “He can change the direction of an object. Rotate or flip it without making it physically turn.”
“So it’s basically instantaneous?”
Lanokas held out his palm, and Kora just made out a perfectly straight, raised scar across his fingers. “A memento from the general,” he said. “I was graspin
g my sword hilt when suddenly I found my hand wrapped around the blade: instantaneous rotation, like you said. His magic must have been how Zalski won him. He spied, discovered Alten had a power, then revealed what he’d seen and convinced Alten to join his side. I’d guess it was the matter of an hour for Zalski to rouse a sense of entitlement in him. Alten thinks militarily. He would have recognized Zalski’s coup had potential, that Zalski would give him more power and gratitude than my father did. If I’d put two and two together when it mattered and brought that letter to someone else….”
He shook his head in self-disdain. Kora said, “It would have made no difference.”
“Zalski had me watched as well. I’m sure he did, but Menikas and I never took magic lightly, never used it even in private. We knew what would happen if Herezoth learned its royal family held vestiges of sorcery. The general, on the other hand….
“Alten was—is—in charge of the army. His word is command. Without Alten’s backing, Zalski couldn’t maintain his rule. The problem is, we’ve had no news of Alten in almost a year. Not even Wilhem found out what Zalski has him doing, and that’s destroying Menikas, because he wants revenge on Alten as much as on the sorcerer. Alten betrayed our father, betrayed the people, after taking the general’s oath to die if need be for this kingdom.”
Lanokas sighed. “My brother was always more serious than I. He would lecture me on occasion, but never without cause, and I respected him, I did. Now…. He’s not the person he was, Kora. He doesn’t joke, ever. He hardly laughs. I think he’s forgotten how, if truth be told. I think he might choke on the atrophied muscles in the back of his throat. He puts every waking thought into the League, into hunting Alten down or killing Zalski.”
“Maybe you could talk to him. About things other than the League, things like Brianna. You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, Lanokas. I understand you might not want to tell everyone about her, but your brother….”
“Menikas never liked Brianna. I realized that when I first mentioned I wouldn’t mind seeing her more often. He thought her easily swayed, said she didn’t mean things the way she phrased them. He never saw the letters we wrote before everything went to hell, never heard the response Neslan brought when I wrote after. Talk to Menikas? He’d think I’m insane.”
“Or he might be pleasantly surprised to learn he was wrong about her. If you’d just tell him about the letters….”
“Shh!” hissed Lanokas. And Kora heard someone coming up the road, following the same route as the Leaguesmen.
Had the guard from the forest betrayed them? Had Hank’s superiors not believed his story? Lanokas was about to peer over the hilltop when Kora held him back. “You’ll be seen.”
“We have to know who that is.”
“Then let me do it. Despareska,” Kora whispered, and disappeared from sight. The sound of pounding hooves was getting louder, but not as loud or frenzied as she expected. There was only one horse.
Who would travel alone, at night? Kora’s throat constricted in fear: no one not official, that was the answer. No one but a guard. She swallowed with difficulty and launched her head over the hillcrest, but was too far away to see the horseman with precision. She crept as close to the edge of the road as she dared.
A civilian dressed in black sped by without the faintest suspicion he was watched. At least, Kora assumed he was a civilian. Between the darkness and his speed he posed little more than a blur, but he hardly seemed a soldier. He had no visible weapon other than a makeshift sling, the gray of its wooden handle visible against his clothing. The rider, whose years she had no way to guess, slouched in his saddle and let his legs flail about with the motions of the horse, signs he was no trained equestrian.
Kora tramped back up the hill and muttered, “Desfazair.” She told Lanokas, “He’s an outlaw. As to what he did, or whether he’s being followed….”
“Just what we need, this man leading a troop of soldiers straight to us. This hill’s the only cover nearby, they’d be bound to check it.”
“It’d be more dangerous to leave. Anyone following him would overtake us.”
Lanokas grunted his agreement. “When it’s time for second watch, tell Kansten what you saw. If she hears anything on the road, have her wake us all, you first.”
Whoever the midnight rider had been, no one was on his trail. What remained of Kora’s watch with Lanokas slipped by in silence, she straining her ears and hearing nothing. She woke when the first rays of dawn penetrated her eyelids. She turned over, groaning, but Bidd flipped her back to face the sun.
“It’s time to get going.”
445
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A New Trick for a New Sorceress
The silver of dawn still lingered. The group of five were saddling their horses, preparing to leave the hill, when Hayden asked, “Where exactly are we headed?”
“The mountains,” said Kansten.
Bidd, full of energy after a full night’s rest, grabbed Lanokas. “You’re not planning to cross the river?”
“We have to.”
“Forget it. An aunt of mine lives up north. I know for a fact Zalski’s always got three men at the bridge, and the ferry owners get tax breaks for each fugitive they turn in. I’ve heard more than one person talk about it. Zalski’s determined to keep outlaws on the same side of the Podra as their crimes. There’s no way across unless you have a private boat and go by dark, and even that’s a toss-up, with Zalski’s patrols going up and down the current.”
Kansten swept the unfixed saddle from her horse’s back in a fit of temper, but Lanokas turned to Kora. “There’s a way we can cross,” he said. “It depends on you.”
Kora stared at him, confused. “I could move you two with Mudar, I guess. No offense, but your power’s limited, and I’m not risking you dumping me in the river. I’m the problem, I can’t cast Mudar on myself and I don’t know any transport spell.”
“You didn’t know any transport spell until Zalski used one in front of you,” the prince corrected her. Kora’s face turned white, while the despair evaporated from Kansten’s.
“If you think I’m going to try that spell for the first time to cross a river like the Podra….”
“So you remember the incantation.”
“Of course I remember. He put the word palace behind it.”
“You could practice before you cross, practice it now even,” said Kansten. “Go on….”
Kora turned to face a flat stretch of land parallel to the hill. “Trasporte…. Oh, I don’t know, Trasporte ten feet.”
Kora felt nothing. At first she thought nothing had happened; then Bidd let out a whoop from behind, and she realized Lanokas was no longer at her shoulder.
A wave of disgust washed over Kora as she thought where that spell had come from, the occasion she had seen it used, and how angry Zalski would be if he ever learned she had stolen a piece, however small, from his magic arsenal. Then the moment passed, leaving a smug satisfaction in its wake. Kora would cross the river. She would confront and defeat Petroc, would take the chain of red gold that was somehow supposed to aid her in avenging Sedder, in destroying Zalski, all thanks to what Zalski himself had taught her.
Kora walked back to the others, a broad grin across her face, amused to see that Bidd’s stretched features put her own to shame. Hayden gawked at her, clearly impressed. He looked unsure whether he should be frightened or relieved.
“Do that again,” said Bidd. “Can you take me with you?”
“She’s not a horse!” cried Kansten.
“No,” said Kora, “I should probably see if I’m able to take someone along. Just because Zalski could…. Here, Bidd, take my hand.”
“Would Laskenay approve this?” Lanokas asked.
“Probably not,” said Kora. “Bidd, come on.”
Bidd closed his hand around Kora’s, and she shut her eyes, wondering: did she have to voice how far she wished to move? Or would the incantation be enough by itself? Lask
enay had shown her magic was a simple exertion of will, of knowing what one wanted.
Kora focused her mind on a clump of dead grass on the hillside. She was not sure of the distance, perhaps some twenty yards, but she whispered, “Trasporte,” her eyes still closed. She said nothing but the single word, afraid she would look like a fool when nothing happened.
Bidd’s shout in her ear announced success. Kora saw her feet surrounded by a clump of pale brown, felt her body balance on an incline. Bidd slapped her on the back with greater force than he intended, and Kora smiled at him, her eyes stinging from the blow. She walked back to the campsite, Bidd cantering at her side. “We’ll cross the river just fine,” she told Lanokas.
Hayden said, “We should make for a spot I know three miles south of the ferries. We can cross there and rejoin the road, maybe slip into a group leaving the ferry dock.”
Kora dug in the ground with her toe. All of a sudden, she felt horribly awkward. “Listen,” she said, “it’s got to be just Kansten, me, and Lanokas to cross the river. We’ll join up with you on the way back. We’ve given our word you can come with us to Yangerton.”
“Is that where you’re going back to?” asked Bidd. He looked sullen. Hayden, on the other hand, seemed to assure himself that if Kora planned now to leave him behind, her thoughts would change in the time it took to reach the crossing point.
Bidd turned to Lanokas. “You can’t let her leave us like that.”
“Our business doesn’t concern you. If you can’t accept that, you can leave right now and fend for yourselves.”
“Whoa, that’s not what I meant! We’re not letting this chance slip by.”
“All right then. Let’s go.”
Everyone turned back to the horses, everyone but Kora, who started shaking, rooted to the spot, her heart pounding faster than she could ever remember. Horror etched itself across her face as she realized the mistake the League had made, realized how many might already be dead because of it.
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 23
