The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six)

by Rathbone, Brian

  It took several deep breaths for Catrin to regain her senses, and Prios launched attacks from behind her, grunting and panting as he did so, and she knew he was hurt badly. Unable to stand the thought of him in pain, Catrin turned and saw him fighting with everything he had left, which was terrifyingly little. Concern for him was accompanied by pride. She reached out her hands to him, intending to lend him energy, to let him fight, and to bolster his strength.

  Her hands never reached him.

  In one swift motion, a feral dragon swooped in and snatched Prios from the saddle. A moment later, that dragon was soaring back toward Riverhold, which was now clearly visible in the morning sun. The feral and Prios's silhouette was clearly defined against the towering walls of Riverhold.

  Where most keeps had walls protecting them, Riverhold was more wall than keep. From her current vantage, she could not even see an entrance. Yet the dragon was headed straight for the keep, and Kyrien was in fast pursuit. The air tore at Catrin as Kyrien dived, and she thought her ears might explode. Finally she created pressurized pockets of air around her ears and cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. While it did reduce her hearing, her head no longer felt as if it would split in two.

  Lightning enveloped the feral dragon from underneath, and Catrin knew that Prios was fighting for his life. Catrin considered launching attacks of her own, but she held back, knowing that dead, the dragon would surely let Prios fall. Catrin and Kyrien were too far behind, and Prios would be beyond their reach.

  Each time Prios attacked, Catrin cried out, exulted that he was still alive, yet wanting him to keep the dragon alive. Given the scope and power of his attacks, he didn't share that desire. The walls of Riverhold rose up before them, the Yan River pouring out of the bottom of the hold creating as formidable a barrier as Catrin had ever seen. One last time Prios attacked, and the dragon looked as if its insides were on fire; it shone from within. The feral released Prios from its grip, and his trajectory would land him in the raging falls that poured from the keep.

  Screaming, Catrin hurled ropes of air to catch him, knowing she was already too late. The turbulent air around the falls tossed Prios, and Catrin's ropes of energy were twisted and warped, no longer doing as she wished. Prios fell away from her; she was losing him. Even as he grew smaller, he began to glow from within, and by the time he reached the base of Riverhold, Catrin had to avert her eyes. Perhaps, she thought, he had done that as a kindness to her, not wanting her to witness the moment of his death. In the next instant, Catrin knew it was much more than kindness. This had been Prios's final attack, and the power of it was terrifying. She felt the pressure change first; immediately after came the light--fire--in a racing shock wave.

  Kyrien folded his wings and could do little else as the wall of energy threw them backward harder than anything either of them had ever experienced. Darkness crowded Catrin's vision, and only the defensive energy she cast out about herself and Kyrien, albeit late, kept her from passing out. With tremendous effort, Catrin was able to divert much of the energy from Prios's attack around them. She tried hard not to think of it as Prios's final attack, even if she knew it to be true. She could no longer sense him.

  Prios was gone.

  * * *

  Sound came to Sinjin in muffled bursts. Everything hurt and the air he breathed tasted thin and overwarm. Feeling as if he would suffocate, Sinjin forced his aching limbs to respond and pry himself out from under whatever it was that was trying to kill him. From the way he felt, it was succeeding. The weight shifted and light poured in from a lifted corner. Slowly Sinjin remembered that he'd been beaten and shoved under something heavy. With the light came fresh air, and Sinjin felt some relief immediately.

  "But you tried to kill him," he heard Kendra say, and he remained very still, not wanting anyone to know he was awake.

  "I regret that it was so," came the voice of the tall man. "It was required to maintain the ruse. Had I refused, I would have had to fight these men. That would've ended badly for me."

  "Will they die?"

  "No," the man said. "They'll sleep until we're well away from here. It's true that some may not wake, and that's something that I'll have on my hands. I regret that it is so, but it is."

  "So you want me to help you get 'dead weight' over there to some stone forest, so you can ask what to do next. Have I got it right?"

  The man sighed. "I suppose you could put it that way."

  "Who's pulling the strings? Tell me," Kendra said, and Sinjin could almost see her standing with her legs slightly apart, her knees bent, ready to fight. It was an oddly alluring vision, and Sinjin struggled to focus.

  "As I've already told you, I cannot say. I've sworn an oath."

  "Perhaps I should make you swear some new oaths," Kendra said.

  "I'm really starting to think unchaining you was a bad idea."

  "Tell me," Kendra said with a threat in her voice, and Sinjin thought he heard the man swallow hard. "Tell me."

  "Lord Jharmin Kyte."

  The words fell from the man like an admission of cardinal guilt.

  "Wait," Kendra said. "Catrin’s cousin’s husband?"

  "Yes. The same."

  "Why?" Kendra asked, no less insistent.

  "Why what?"

  "Why are you here? Why is the boy under that armor or whatever it is? Why did you betray your brothers? Why should I believe anything you say?"

  "It's a long tale, and we need to get away from here." There came a strangled sound, and the tall man continued in a higher pitch. "I'm a spy, sent here by Lord Kyte. Lady Kyte enlisted my help in using the magic of the stone forest."

  "Magic. Pah!"

  "I swear to you, there is magic there, and I can hear Lord Kyte."

  Again there came a strangled sound. "I thought you said Lady Kyte enlisted your help with the stone forest."

  "Yes, but she has left Ravenhold—" The man stopped suddenly, as if he had suddenly realized he'd made a very big mistake.

  "Go on."

  "And . . . and now I talk with Lord Kyte in her stead."

  "You're not telling me everything," Kendra said.

  "I am. I swear to you that I am."

  "I almost believe you," Kendra said. "Get him out from under there before he suffocates."

  "No," the man said. Again came the strangled sound. "My orders are to keep him under the blanket until we reach the forest."

  "Do I have to explain to you who's giving the orders now?"

  "It won't hurt him any."

  "I assume you mean it won't hurt him any more," Kendra said, the accusation heavy in her words.

  "Yes. It won't hurt him any more than he's already hurt."

  "Let's see if we can get the little man up, shall we?"

  Sinjin bristled at her remark.

  "Sinjin," came the man's voice, "can you hear me?"

  It took a moment for Sinjin to decide what to say. When he did speak, his face ached and there were shooting pains in his swollen lips. "I can," was all he could say.

  "My name is Hand, and I'm sorry I hurt you. It was necessary. I'm in the employ of House Kyte, and Lord Kyte wishes I deliver you to him. Do you capitulate?"

  "Take me to him," he managed.

  "What is the purpose of the 'blanket'?" Kendra asked, her voice insistent.

  Hand considered for a moment before answering. "It keeps people from sensing his presence."

  "People like who?" she persisted.

  "People like Thorakis and the monks above and the dragons. Need I go on? If they know he's out from under that blanket, they'll come to find him."

  Kendra waved him off. "He can't even stand. How's he going to walk under the weight of that thing?"

  Hand again considered his words. Though Sinjin didn't like him, he admitted Hand might be a wise man. "I thought perhaps you would help him."

  "Me? Why would I help him?"

  "You begged for his life."

  The hall was silent for a few moments, and Sinjin wished
he could see what was happening.

  "Fine."

  An instant later, the weight lessened, and Kendra was suddenly under the blanket with him. She was very close, and he could smell her heady scent. He didn't mind the pain as much when she brushed up against him. Then she put his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist and tried to lift him from the stone floor. It was awkward. His limbs did not want to obey, and the pain in his ribs was almost unbearable, but they eventually managed to stand. The weight of the blanket was a major hindrance, and Sinjin still felt smothered by it. His legs were unsteady, and he put his other arm around Kendra and grabbed on.

  "Watch it, little man," Kendra said, and Sinjin moved his hand up. Despite everything else, he smiled and had to admit that having his arm around her felt good. Perhaps he held on at times a little tighter than needed.

  * * *

  Fluttering torchlight fell on a silent and unmoving forest, though when Durin shifted his viewpoint, the forest did seem to move. Even frozen in oddly weathered stone, this forest was alive. Durin could feel it, and it made the hair stand on his neck. Chase stood just in front of him, as he always seemed to, and the two of them remained silent, waiting for some sign of real movement within the magnificently carved trees. No sound came. Finding his courage, Durin followed Chase and tried to look wherever Chase wasn't looking, so nothing could sneak up on him. The feeling of some other presence in this place was so strong that Durin could not stop looking for whoever it was that dwelt here. Chase must have felt it as well, for he moved in silence and used hand signals to communicate with Durin.

  A sound like the scuffling of boots echoed around them, and Chase turned to Durin with a question in his eyes. Durin just shook his head. He hadn't made the noise. This raised their concern to a new level, and while Chase stood, frozen, listening, Durin couldn't help but run his fingers along the bark of the nearest tree. It felt almost real, and that made the fact that it wasn't even more remarkable. He could almost pretend that he was outside, resting in the shade of an oak grove, and he guessed that was why it existed. The scale of the place spoke of people being trapped underground for untold ages, and memories of the outside world would become precious indeed. It looked to be almost as large as the chamber that contained the God's Eye. Though, in truth, the size was difficult to judge from below the canopy.

  "Wait here," Chase said, and he started climbing a nearby tree.

  Durin stayed where he was, having visions of branches of stone falling from the tree. Chase moved like the trained soldier he was, and though slow at times, he methodically climbed the stone oak. The branches did not move, and leaves did not stir. The entire experience was wholly unnatural. When Chase finally dropped back to the floor of the cavern, he grunted, and it took him a moment to stand. "There is a clearing ahead. It's a good walk, but I think that'll tell us a good bit more about this place."

  "Maybe we should go back," Durin said. "Maybe we should get some reinforcements."

  "I didn't see any signs of movement while I was up there, and I think perhaps we were just hearing things. Regardless, it's a long walk back, and I'd like to have a little more information than just the fact that we found a stone forest. Let's go."

  Following reluctantly, Durin let Chase lead him into the heart of the forest. Here, the trees bore dark stains, and they were adorned with gray and black lichen.

  "Do not touch these trees," Chase whispered.

  Durin made no response. He had no desire to lay even a finger on them. Every instinct was telling him to run back the way they had come. He was about to suggest they do just that when the black trees thinned. Looking down, Durin saw that the floor of the chamber here was carved with a flowing pattern, like graceful branches but with no leaves. The pattern grew denser closer to the center of the clearing, where there stood a single massive tree that dwarfed all the rest. From here, Durin could see the vaulted ceiling of the chamber and marveled at the fact that it must have been man made; it was carved to look like wispy clouds, though now they, too, were covered in black and appeared threatening.

  The branches of the mighty tree reached out over those that surrounded the clearing, and the air in the shade of this tree vibrated as if it were alive. This stone copse reminded Durin of Catrin's tales about the Grove of the Elders. That was a place that was said to have its own power, a site where the power of the land was closest to the surface. Perhaps this place, too, was similar. Durin had never been to the Grove of the Elders, but he had a picture of it in his mind, a picture that he knew was inaccurate, but he preferred to envision the ancient greatoaks as they were before Catrin destroyed them. Seeing this place somehow made his mental image of these trees even larger. It changed Durin's perception of what was possible. Never before had he realized that mankind could achieve such things. Indeed, he would bet that most of the people of the Godfist would feel the same way. The ancients had bested them in almost every way. Durin was humbled by the experience and wondered if his kind would ever ascend back to such heights.

  When Chase finally stepped from the trees and into the open, Durin felt as if there were squirrels in his guts, and his knees trembled. Nothing happened. No attacks came and no sounds broke the silence. Instead, Chase just walked into the clearing and raised his eyes to gaze at the mastery of the ancients. Here their kind had reached some kind of pinnacle, while at the same time, presumably being at an all-time low, since they had been trapped under ground. Durin finally followed when it seemed as if the shadows behind him were moving, and he thought he heard that scuffling sound again.

  What amazed him the most about the trees were the details and the durability of what looked delicate and fragile. Leaves with narrow stems hung from slender branches, and it seemed inconceivable that such slight structures could have survived the ages. As they moved closer to the tree, Durin saw that there was more wear on the floor here. The design was still clearly visible, but many of the edges were rounded and worn. And there was a place on the trunk of the tree, at about arm height, where the bark was worn smooth. Durin had visions of people congregating here, and each one stroking the tree in that same place. It came and went in a flash, but he felt a nearly overwhelming urge to place his own hand on that worn spot, to join the exclusive group of people who had done so, to connect with those who had come before, and he was there before he knew it. Without thinking, he placed his hand on the tree. Nearby, he heard Chase hiss.

  Durin nearly fainted when the tree spoke.

  "Is that you? Are you there?"

  Durin slowly took his hand away from the tree and turned with wide eyes to Chase, who looked almost as startled as he. Chase held a finger to his lips and remained still and silent. Durin did his best to follow Chase's example. While it had seemed the tree spoke, it spoke with what sounded like a very human voice, yet no one could be seen.

  "Yes. I am here," came another voice, calm and smooth, the sound of nobility.

  "I've secured the package and the accessories," came the original voice, which sounded a great deal more stressed.

  "Excellent. Bring them to me with the greatest haste."

  "I want to know why." This new voice actually sounded familiar and Durin gaped. Again, Chase held his finger to his lips. No answer came.

  "Answer me," Kendra said, and Durin had no doubt it was she. She sounded meaner than usual, though, and that was saying something. "If you don't tell me who you are and what you want with Sinjin, your man Hand's name is gonna become an irony. You understand me?"

  Durin nearly shouted for joy when he heard Sinjin's name. Still, it didn't sound as if his friend was safe, and Durin did his best to remain quiet. It was difficult considering how many of his questions demanded answers. Where was his friend? And how could they hear those who were presumably so far away? Even the slightest possibility that Sinjin was on the Godfist gave Durin hope.

  "With whom do I have the pleasure of negotiating?" the noble voice responded, seemingly unperturbed.

  "My name is Kendra
Ironfist, and I'm about to start cutting."

  "I mean you no harm, Lady Ironfist, and I mean my nephew no harm. I suppose our relationship is a bit more tenuous than that, but with his leave, I would call him nephew. My name is Jharmin Olif Kyte, and I wish to bring you to Wolfhold, so that I can keep you safe until Lady Catrin can come for you."

  Nephew? Durin asked himself, but then he remembered the tales of Lady Lissa and Lord Kyte. This was the man who had formed a truce with Catrin that ended an ages-old feud.

  "Why should I believe you?"

  "I don't see that you have all that much choice," Lord Kyte said. "There's a keep full of people ready to prevent you from escaping the way you came in. Hand knows other ways out of the keep, and provided you don't hurt him, he will show you the way. After that, he'll be able to use my gold to arrange for suitable transportation."

  "The blanket is hurting him," Kendra said. "I'm going to take it off of him."

  Durin couldn't imagine what she was talking about, but he didn't like the sound of it one bit.

  "As soon as you do," Lord Kyte said, "they'll come looking for you, and you can bet they'll find you. The dragons have your scent, boy. I know you can hear me, and I know that if you want to live, you must remain hidden. If not for Thorakis wanting your mother to think you dead, you very well might be."