“I was a fledgling,” Aryn said. “When it happened.”
“When did you lose your eyes?”
“That came later.”
“Ah.” Tania waited, but when Aryn did not offer anything else she continued. “Well, you trained at Solyr, you're not a demon, and you've lost your sight. Three things we have in common. That's good for a meal and a night under a dry roof. I've a small spare room you can use for as long as you like.”
“You're kinder and far more intelligent than I'd expect anyone in this backwoods to be.”
“These are good people.” Tania led him east down the road, away from the road leading up to Dane. “Don't think otherwise. They're scared, and scared people can be rash, but they've a right to be. The stories of Lared's Row are legion. Some say a demon forced parents to watch it eat their children. Others say it made the children into demons, sent them after their own parents.”
Aryn shuddered as he walked, and not just from the night's clinging cold. Scattered images of a flaming pit filled with knives and shrieking flooded his mind. Balazel tortured him there for a very long time, though Melyssa Honuron wiped away most of those memories.
“These people don't know demons,” Aryn said.
“You're right.” Tania led him down the quiet, muddy road. “I thank the Five for that every day.”
Aryn sighed. “It's too late for this conversation. You're a kind and generous host, and you bested me as we discussed. I'll go to your dwelling and pay your fee, and yes, I'll accept a meal and a night under a dry roof.”
“And what of my offer to help you see?”
“I'll think about it. I don't know if I'm ready to stop moving.” No, he was not ready for that at all.
“Fair enough. We'll start with the meal and your name.” Tania glanced over her shoulder at him, and Aryn wished he could see her face. See anything other than a featureless blob of dream world orange.
“It's ... Aryn.” He had not spoken his name aloud since leaving Kara and the others at Highridge Pass, despite their protestations. He needed to find his father. He needed to know if Dupret would take him back, even though Aryn had disappointed him in every way possible.
“That's all?” Tania asked.
“That's all I can give you,” Aryn said. “So for now, it'll have to be enough.”
“It'll have to be.” Tania looked back to the road. “My home is close. We'll be there long before sunrise.”
“And does the Lady Tania live in a mud hut?” Even as he said it, Aryn cursed his glib tongue. He had lost his manners when he lost his skin.
Tania simply laughed. “More like a hovel of clay, wood, and stone, and it's only Dane's people who call me lady. They seem to think that's the proper title for a journeymage, no matter how often I tell them otherwise.”
“I'm sure it's a wonderful home.” Aryn's shoulders sagged. “Forgive my ingratitude and my rude tongue. It's been too long since I've had civil company.”
“It's been too long since I've had the ear of a fellow mage.” Tania turned down a narrow animal trail. “I've been working with nature since I moved back after graduation, experimenting with glyphs to aid plants and crops, but I've had no mages to critique my work.”
“I was a Firebrand. The discipline doesn't have a lot to do with making things grow.”
“You're a student of magic. You'll find that never changes no matter what rank you attain. Glyphs are glyphs and I'd welcome feedback.”
“I'll offer whatever I can.” Aryn watched the back of her dream form as she walked. “Just don't expect much.”
“I don't expect anything save a bit of company and talk of Solyr. I miss it as much as I missed Dane when I was there. One day, when I know my people are safe, I'll visit.”
“I won't.”
“Don't be so sure. Your body may have changed but your life isn't over.”
Aryn raised his blackened hands and held them out before his charred eye sockets. “You call this a life?”
“I call it a quiet night when nothing is trying to kill me.” Tania paused and stared up at the sky. “It's enough.” She started off again.
Her sudden melancholy tone surprised him. There was more to her time in Dane than experiments with Earther glyphs. Had Tania faced demons as well?
They both had more than enough secrets. Whatever Tania hid about her past, she seemed no threat. For tonight, Aryn had a meal and a bed under a dry roof.
Tania was right. It was enough.
KARA HONURON WOKE when a thump echoed through the cavernous hidden hallway. The sturdy door to the royal infirmary had opened, finally, and she hopped up so fast spots danced before her eyes. The royal infirmary hid in a tunnel of gray stones beneath King Haven’s palace, reserved for royalty and nobility. And the people they didn't want anyone to see.
Trell emerged without a Bloodmender escort and that was a good sign. His steps remained cautious and measured. His face was pale and his thin beard looked ragged, but he wasn't coughing any longer. Not yet.
“Hey,” Kara said. Trying to smile.
“Hey.” Trell did smile, a real smile, and it warmed her. “Shouldn't you be studying?”
“I'm done with that for today.” Kara guided Trell to the bench where she had dozed far longer than she liked. “Relax. Sit.” After he sat down, she sat beside him. “What did the Bloodmenders say?”
Trell ran his hands through his sweat-matted hair, trailing fingers along his thick black ponytail. “Bloodmender Pula gave me a tonic to ease the coughing. I should be able to sleep tonight.”
The infirmary door closed with a thump that echoed through the tunnel, startling them both. When it faded, Kara leaned as close as she dared. “You know that's not what I meant. What's wrong with you?”
“No one knows.”
“That's ridiculous. Someone has to know.”
“Perhaps we'll learn more tomorrow. We can hope.”
Kara wanted to hug him but knew that wasn't a good idea. She loved Trell — she was certain of that now, having had more than a week to consider everything he had done for her on their journey to Terras — but she did not know if he loved her. She didn't know if he could. It had only been a month since the Mavoureen murdered his wife.
“Is it because of what Life did to you?” Kara whispered. They were alone in this dark tunnel, and could speak freely of the Five Who Had Made the World.
“Perhaps.”
“Then we're going to tell them everything.” Kara stood and marched for the infirmary door.
Trell's hand snatched hers. She looked back at him, surprised by the strength in his grip. “No.”
“If they knew that Life brought you back from the dead, that she made you her champion—”
“No,” Trell repeated, as he gently pulled her back to the bench. “No one can know you are Torn's great-granddaughter. Someone else might try Cantrall's plan.”
Kara sat and pulled her hand away. “It wouldn't matter. Torn sealed the gate. Nothing can open it.”
“That doesn't mean a Mavoureen servant won't come after you. And besides, you could not tell them about Life without telling them about Ruin. About Sera.”
Trell was right. He was always right. The Five Who Had Made the World all took champions in their quest to stop Cantrall — Life for Trell, Heat for Aryn, Land for Byn and Breath for Jyllith — but the most powerful among them took someone else. Ruin took Sera.
Ruin could only possess someone who had scribed demon glyphs — Kara read that in one of Solyr's many histories of the All Province War — and Kara could not reveal Trell's possession without revealing them all. The Five had left them, banished by Cantrall in the bowels of Terras, but the trauma inflicted on everyone Kara cared for remained.
Heat had burned off Aryn's skin, and losing Land's strength had left Byn weak as a child. Sera had two weeks until the Demonkin curse devoured her soul, and now whatever Life had done to Trell in their final battle with the Mavoureen was killing him.
Trell too
k her hand again. “This is not your fault.”
“Right.” Everyone kept saying that.
“Now. How are you studies going?”
Kara rolled her eyes. “You don't want to hear about that.” He was still holding her hand.
“Is something wrong? Is Adept Anylus not pleased with your progress?” He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Did you accidentally blow something up?”
“Of course not!” He was teasing her now, and she was not sure she liked that. “Don't change the subject.”
“I'd never dare, but you're an amazing mage. Have you learned any new glyphs from Anylus this week?”
A smile reached Kara's face. “You're horrible at distracting people. Seriously. It's blatant.”
“But did it work?”
A laugh bubbled up before she could stop it. “Fine.” Kara stood and pulled him up. “We'll stop talking about your problems, but only because I need to meet Sera soon. Your legionnaires must be getting anxious.”
“Yes.” Trell could not forget the two Mynt soldiers who had shadowed him every moment since he entered Tarna. “We should not keep them waiting. It's rude.”
Kara led Trell to the rising stairs at the end of the tunnel. “I'll talk to Prince Beren about that.”
“Again?”
“As many times as it takes. You saved my life, saved all of us. You should be a guest, not a prisoner.”
“At least I'm alive.”
“Yes.” Kara took a breath. “There is that.”
Trell was Tellvan and she was Mynt, two provinces now engaged in genuine warfare. Cantrall had started it, leading his army of davengers and revenants to slaughter towns on both sides of the border under false flags. The chaos he had begun now spiraled out of control.
Inciting the Five Provinces to war had been the Mavoureen's plan all along, of course. They wanted the provinces divided so they could invade after each army shattered the other. Just because Kara had stopped the Mavoureen didn't fix the damage they had done.
If only that was the worst she had to worry about.
SERA VALENCE HAD A DEMON inside her head, and she could not make it stop talking.
“Why do you deny the truth?” The demon whispered, an alluring female voice that was impossible to ignore. “You understand me.”
“I understand you're evil,” Sera thought back. “You want to take my soul and torture me forever.”
Sera always felt her demon's presence more keenly at night, and tonight's moon was high. She crouched amidst the gray stone columns that surrounded the Imperial Library of Tarna, a cathedral-esque building at the base of the royal palace complex. The sprawl that housed the Mynt government was impressive, amphitheaters of domed stone and stone towers that scraped the sky.
“All lies, my sweet child.” Her demon sounded hurt. “Slander from those who fear our protection. I want to take you to a better world.”
“Stop talking!” Sera focused on making the voice go quiet, put all her will into it, and it faded. She collapsed against a column and gasped for breath.
With each passing day the Mavoureen that had latched onto her soul grew harder to suppress. With each passing day, she wanted to listen just a bit more. How long would it be until she lost the will to take her own life?
Byn would not let her. It was Byn who kept her going, Byn who held her in the night and made the voice go quiet. He assured her they would find a cure, yet there were no tales of a cure in any history Sera had ever read.
She stared at the dark sky and wondered if her father was watching the stars in Cyan. Dared had often pointed out shapes and patterns as Sera's mother once pointed them out to him. Her mother was dead fifteen years now, and Sera was all Dared Valence had left. He had written twice in the last week, but she had not written back.
What could she tell him? Your daughter is a monster? Your daughter is going to kill herself? She just wanted one more day on their back porch with him beneath the real sky. The great lamps of Tarna dampened all but the brightest stars.
Byn and Kara should have joined her already. Had they been caught sneaking onto the library grounds? Sera huffed and searched the library plaza for anyone or anything.
In front of her, mottled stone steps descended to a wide plaza. Cobblestone roads bordered by waist-high hedges cut through green grass, all immaculately trimmed. It seemed wasteful to devote such a large area to grass when it could grow wheat or hold animal paddocks, but most of what Tarna consumed came in from the vast expanse of the Martial Steppes beyond its walls. Those inside the walls enjoyed the luxury of beauty without purpose.
Voices murmured and light flickered, and Sera pressed against a column. Her astral concealment glyph held, one of many she had learned this week. Her demon insisted her unnatural aptitude for absorbing new glyphs was one of its many gifts, and Sera was terrified it might be right.
Yet what harm was there in learning? Why fail to improve herself, even if a demon aided her in that improvement? Every glyph Sera learned and mastered was another chance to stop the monster inside her.
Two Mynt soldiers walked by without seeing her, armored plates clanking. The patrol had no sooner rounded the corner before two shadows darted across the empty plaza and up the library steps, one figure lagging behind the other and running with an odd gait. Byn. Sera stood and beckoned them over.
She recognized Kara's jawline beneath the hood that topped her heavy cloak. Byn was with her but running remained difficult for him, one cost among many others they had both paid to keep Kara alive on their journey to Tarna.
Before Byn died in Highridge Pass, he often lifted Sera in a single arm. He easily dragged massive boats ashore. After surviving a davenger's fierce poison, Byn now had difficulty walking down the street. Everyone had lost so much, but Sera refused to question any sacrifice.
They had, after all, saved the world.
Kara carried a leather satchel but didn't open it. Instead she pulled a long key from her brown cloak, copper faded with age. Hers for tonight only.
Kara slipped that key into the lock and turned it with a click that echoed in Sera's sensitive ears. Once inside, they closed the great doors with only a moderate racket. Those soldiers would not hear it.
“I'm sorry we're late.” Kara tucked the key back into the pocket of her cloak, then pulled back her hood to reveal her flushed face. “I went to Prince Beren again, to talk about Trell. We argued a bit too long.”
Sera still wasn't used to seeing Kara's brown hair cut short. It hung to just above Kara's shoulders now, yet Kara had worn her hair in a long braid for as long as they had known each other. Sera supposed a week of fleeing demons with frazzled hair changed one's priorities.
At least Kara's hair still had its color. Sera's once dark hair grew grayer by the day, ever since Sera channeled her blood into Kara's body to defeat Jyllith. Sera wished the worst she had to worry about was going gray.
Byn pushed back his hood, his round face pinched with worry. “Won't they hear us?” Sweat clumped his tousled blond hair. “What if they—”
Sera put two fingers to Byn's lips and offered a warm smile. Five take her, she loved him so damn much. He was the reason she wouldn't kill herself. Not yet, anyway.
“These doors and walls are thick.” Sera stepped back. “We will not be disturbed until morning.” She was going to lie a lot tonight. “Did you bring the magesand?”
Kara fiddled with her leather satchel. “I want to go over this again, first. I don't understand why this glyph requires three of us, or magesand. I just want to—”
“Has anything changed?”
Kara's mouth stayed open, but she did not respond. Sera spoke again before she could.
“Melyssa was very clear about how long I have until the curse consumes me. Two more weeks. Now. Did you bring the magesand?”
“Yes.” Kara's voice held real shame.
“Then we're doing this,” Sera told them. “Tonight.”
She led them between rows
of massive wooden shelves, walking a plush red rug that stretched from the doors to the back wall. Sera heard the scuff of Kara's sandals, the shuffle of Byn's walk. She would not have been able to hear those sounds a week ago, but the demon kept enhancing her senses. Another sign of its growing influence.
“How is Trell doing?” Byn whispered.
“Getting worse,” Kara whispered back. “He's coughing all the time, walking slower each day, and Beren's legionnaires won't let him out of their sight.”
“That's so stupid. Tellvan or no, I'd trust him with my life. He's one King Haven should trust.”
They passed tall shelves filled with tomes both new and musty. The Imperial Library mixed ancient books with fresh material requested by the public, popular ballads and heroic tales. Even sappy love poems.
Soon they reached an unremarkable locked door on the eastern wall. “My sweet child,” Sera's demon whispered. “Do you remember our glyph?”
Sera slashed her index finger with her thumbnail. She drew the glyph from last night's dark dreams and ignited it. The door popped open with a quiet click.
“I don't recognize that one,” Kara said quietly. “What was it?”
“It unlocks things.” Sera dared not reveal where she learned it. “I'll show you how to scribe it when we have more time.” Lying to those she loved grew easier every day. What did that say about her demon?
Sera scribed Flaryen. A small ball of light appeared inside her open hand and then she led her friends down a narrow flight of winding stairs. Byn shut the door behind them, a sensible precaution.
“She's been learning everything,” Byn whispered to Kara, but Sera heard him even over their shuffling footsteps. “All the schools, more than I can follow. She's a fast learner.”
“I know,” Kara whispered back. “Drown me, I know how fast she learns.”
Sera resisted the urge to hunch her shoulders. What had Kara expected her to do as a maniac hunted them, murdered them one by one? Just watch those she loved die?
Scribing Davazet on that Sentinel corpse had been the only way to find Jyllith and stop her harvenger, even if it cost Sera’s soul. Byn had just been murdered and Kara might soon join him. Then the Five resurrected Byn and returned him to her safe, alive, and lost until he tried to sell his soul, too.
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