by K. C. May
“The Runes of Carthis?” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Gracious! How far into the future do you live?”
“Six-hundred thirty years.”
Her eyes widened, and she danced in place with a quick patter of her feet, clearly excited. “That is marvelous, Wayfarer.” She put her arms around him and embraced him tightly and then pulled back and danced again. He couldn’t help but smile at her exuberance. “I’m thrilled that knowledge of the runes has lasted so long. It’s my very great pleasure to meet you. My name is Carthis.”
Chapter 26
Gavin gaped at her. He hadn’t asked to see her yet. “Carthis? The Carthis?” He expected her to be different. More stoic and scholarly, maybe condescending. She was far from any of those.
She giggled behind one hand, her face turning a deeper shade of purple. “Six hundred years from the future, and you’ve heard of me.”
“Heard of you? You’re a legend,” he said. “It’s my life’s greatest honor to meet you.” He went to one knee and bowed his head, feeling every bit as happy for meeting her as he felt honored.
“Gracious! Please, kind friend.” She tugged his arm to prompt him to stand. Her face was most definitely flushed now, though more purple than red. “You abash me. What’s your name, dear Wayfarer?”
“Sorry, it’s Gavin. Gavin Kinshield.”
“I’m curious about how a human mage from the blue realm became Wayfarer, but such things are not for me to know. Come with me, Gavin Kinshield, if you please. I want to show you something.”
She took him by the hand and led him down a gray brick walkway lined with violet-blue plants. A wooden gate, carved with birds and flowers, opened into a garden the likes of which Gavin had never seen. Thick with trees and shrubs and colorful flowers, it was inviting to the eye and to the spirit. What magnificence, as if all the beauty in the world had been born right here.
His heart felt light in this place, so light, he began to laugh. “It’s gorgeous beyond words.” He turned around, his arms wide, while he laughed, tears flooding his eyes. If he hadn’t felt so happy, so free of worry or guilt or frustration, he’d have thought himself mad.
“This is the Treasure Garden,” Carthis said, spreading her arms to indicate their surroundings. When she bent over to stroke the stem of a flower, her long, black hair shifted out of her way on its own by curling and wrapping about her shoulder and waist. It seemed to caress her as she moved, unaffected by the breeze. “Every Hahlia city has one. We spend at least an hour in this place every day to ground us and refresh us. Your shoulders slump, weighed down by so many burdens. I thought you could use a bit of joy.”
He went to her, put his arms around her waist, and twirled about. They both laughed, and he set her down again. He needed one of these gardens at Chatworyth Palace. Maybe he could tie Feanna up in it. Surely such a place would reverse the khoness in her essence. “How could I create a garden like this in my own realm?”
“I’m afraid you can’t, Gavin Kinshield. The zhi infuses every life in our realm, but it is stronger when it comes together with certain magical elements, such as the runes strategically placed within this garden. Kho elements would counteract the zhi.”
“My wife...” He stopped, shaking his head. To speak of his problems in this blissful place seemed wrong. He wanted to enjoy the garden for a while longer. There would be time later to get what he came for.
“Something troubles you,” Carthis said. She lay her soft hand on his forearm. “Please let me help.”
He didn’t mean to, but the words tumbled out, and once he got started, he couldn’t shut up. Her honor and sincerity engendered trust, and he desperately needed her advice. Before long, he’d told her about the Guardians, the Nal Disi, and what happened to the wellspring water and the people who drank it. “Some people in my realm drank the wellspring water afore I could remove their essence from it. My wife was one o’them.”
“Oh, dear. And now their inclination is reversed, isn’t it? That fills my heart with sorrow.”
“Isn’t there a way to fix it? To reverse it back?” he asked.
Carthis reached up and stroked a lock of her hair. It curled around her fingers. “I could teach you how to turn the essence inside out, so to speak, but I don’t believe that procedure would help your people.”
“The Guardians said that the essence can be removed from the body for a second or two. I tried swapping the essence of one person with the essence of another, but it didn’t work.”
“Put her essence in him and his essence in her? That’s possible, but you need a complement to do it.”
“A complement? You mean like the Elyle have?”
“Similar, yes. You’re of the blue realm, and so your complement would be found in the yellow realm. Swapping the essences of two people from your own realm would result in their deaths. I suppose you know that by now.”
“Do I have to find a specific person for each of my own people who needs their essence swapped?”
“No, anyone whose khozhi balance matches that of your subject will do. They must match exactly.”
“How would I find an exact match? I can’t bring the person with me to the yellow realm, can I?”
“You can, but that isn’t necessary. Every essence has a fingerprint, so to speak. Imprint the essence of your friend on a small gemstone with a simple spell. Take the gem with you to the yellow realm. When it nears a being with the identical khozhi balance, you’ll hear its resonance.”
That sounded nearly impossible. Gavin sighed. “The world’s a big place. Finding this person could take months o’traveling through the yellow realm.”
“Any medium-sized city should have at least a few individuals who match the khozhi essences you seek. Take several imprinted gems with you at one time. You need only mingle among them, but Gavin Kinshield, beware. Though the yellow realm is more ordered than the red or orange, it is still more chaotic than your own. You must watch your back, for if someone slays you, your murderer inherits the power of Wayfarer.”
“I understand,” he said. “You said I can bring someone with me?” With Daia guarding his back, he would be safe enough.
“Yes, if you hold his hand as you enter the portal. Be sure to do the same when you return.”
“O’course,” he muttered, slapping his forehead. “I knew that. I’d forgotten.” King Arek had planned to take Ronor Kinshield with him to the red realm to summon Ritol back. Ronor hadn’t known that until near the end of Arek’s life, and he’d been livid to discover that he could have accompanied his king through the portals over the previous thirteen years but had instead been left behind to pace and worry. Just as Gavin was doing to Daia. “When I find the right being? Then what do I do?”
“You would bring him back through the portal with you.”
“I can do that?”
“Yes, of course. You would need to return him to his own realm when you’re finished, and remember—he’ll still be a danger to you while he’s in your realm.”
“What if I used a summoning rune? Then he’d be under my control, wouldn’t he?”
She blinked up at him. “A summoning rune?”
Had she not invented it yet? Gavin swallowed, hoping he didn’t change the future. No, he reasoned, he’d have been slammed back to his own time with a wicked headache if he’d tried to say the wrong thing. Carthis had discovered the summoning rune. His blunder wouldn’t have changed that fact. “Yeh. It’s one o’the Runes o’Carthis—uh, your runes.”
“And you have one? May I see it?”
What was this going to do to the future? He recalled his first meeting with King Arek during which he was introduced to Ronor Kinshield—his former self. Ronor had been suspicious of the mysterious stranger and later blamed that stranger for King Arek changing their plan to defeat Ritol, not knowing that a future version of Ronor himself was the mysterious stranger. It was enough to twist Gavin’s thoughts into a knot. “I left it in Tern, but it looks like this.”
He opened his right palm and with his left index finger, he traced its shape.
She watched him closely while he drew the rune’s symbol again. “Mor... Whe... Rard. No, that’s not right. Once more, please. Whe... Whemorard. Yes, Whemorard. That’s magnificent! I’ve been trying to design it for over a year now, and you’re saying I made that?”
He smiled. “You did.”
“I owe this discovery to you, Gavin Kinshield,” she said with a laugh. “You can use it, yes. I suspect you must learn the name of the one you want to summon, return to your own realm, and summon him. Then you’ll need a rune of exchange to perform the ritual.”
Gavin nodded. “I got one o’those too. The Guardians told me I needed it.”
“How very fortunate, for I wouldn’t have been able to craft one for you, since you’re from my future.” Carthis smiled brightly. “Now all you need are the steps to imprint the gem and perform the ritual. When the essences are swapped, you’ll return the complement to his own realm? Do you know how to do that?”
“Yeh,” Gavin said, “and then reverse the other essence by using the water infused with the essence from the Nal Disi.”
Carthis inclined her head. “I admire such a creative solution. Give me a few minutes to inscribe the ritual.”
A small Hahlia child ran up to them with a thin sheet of what looked like glass and a stick with a clear, sparkling gem on its tip. Briefly, Gavin wondered how she knew what Carthis needed and surmised that she had the ability to communicate through her thoughts like the Elyle did. Carthis used the stick like a quill, writing on the glassy sheet with fluid, graceful strokes. At last, she offered the glass to Gavin, and he took it with both hands, careful not to drop it.
It didn’t feel like glass—it was flexible, like paper, and equally as light. Symbols were neatly etched on its surface. A few were familiar, having been carved into the runes in his possession and in the rune stone from which he’d removed the gems that now decorated Aldras Gar’s hilt. Most were completely foreign to his eye. As he scanned the page, vague, dream-like images filled his mind, and he realized that he was reading and understanding the writing. Once he’d read the last symbol, the glass-paper crumbled to dust in his hand, drifted through his fingers, and vanished before it reached the ground.
“Whoa,” he whispered.
“You know how to cast the enchantments now,” Carthis said.
“Yeh. I guess I do.” The essence-swapping enchantment he now knew varied only slightly from the procedure the Guardians had taught him, but this time it would work. He knew in his heart this was the right way to do it. A ripple of excitement ran up his spine. He was eager to return home to try it and to put Feanna back the way she used to be. Soon, he would have his wife back, and his son would be safe.
“Then you’re ready. Let’s partake of the feast being prepared in your honor. What poor hosts we would be to send you home on an empty stomach.”
Carthis took him by the hand and guided him through the town to an open courtyard filled with smiling, chattering Hahlia. Even more arrived with plates of food, set them down on a series of tables, and joined the others in greeting and welcoming him. He supposed this was his life now, drawing attention wherever he went, though whether he was honored or assailed would depend on the realm.
“I suggest starting here.” Carthis took him to one of the tables piled high with what looked like exotic fruit. Gavin reached automatically for the food and then hesitated, unsure whether the Hahlia had some sort of blessing ritual he should wait for.
Shin joined them, rubbing Gavin’s shoulder affectionately. “We’re honored by your visit, Gavin Kinshield. Please eat your fill.”
Gavin noticed that nobody else was taking any of the food. “Why isn’t anyone else eating?”
“You’re our honored guest,” Carthis said. “We wait for you to begin.”
He felt the warmth of embarrassment flood his face. These were the zhi-pure, and he was only zhi-bent—an imperfect person capable of horrible thoughts and actions, and yet they honored him.
“I recommend these,” Shin said, pointing to a sprig of blue grape-like things. “May I?” He picked one up and held it to Gavin’s lips.
Gavin had no choice but to open his mouth to accept the fruit being fed to him, despite how uncomfortable it made him. He wouldn’t stand there and let them feed him like he was some sort of god, but Shin looked eager for him to taste the fruit. It was sweet and juicy, much like a grape of his own realm but with a slightly more apple-like flavor.
He nodded. “That’s delicious.”
Dozens of Hahlia cheered. That started a frenzy of activity. People took bowls from stacks on one table and began to fill them with food. They chattered happily, talking about how the new Wayfarer had enjoyed the kivva fruit, how it was their favorite, how fortunate they were to have hosted his visit.
Chapter 27
Deep into the mirknight, Feanna pulled on her robe and slippers. She’d sketched out a rough layout of the upper floor of the palace and another for the passageways as she remembered them. With one overlaying the other, she got a sense of where the bedchambers were—and how to reach them. Earlier that day, she’d marked one of the bedchambers on the passage map, and it was that map she took with her, along with a candle.
The servants’ passage was pitch dark. Not a single crack of light from the Moon or from a lit bedchamber made its way in. Though the darkness didn’t make her uncomfortable, the rats did. The buggers were ugly and probably hungry. There was no doubt they would try to nibble her ankles if they got close enough. She had to be ready to kick them if any got too bold.
With her candle held to her side, she crept through the passage, stooped over, pausing now and then to consult her map. She had to cross a corridor three times, which meant going up five or six steps, opening the narrow door hidden in the corridor paneling, and darting across to the opposite door. She had to be careful with her timing, but once the patrolling guard had turned down the next hallway, she was safe to cross.
At last, she reached her destination. She climbed the five steps to the servant’s door and eased it open, hoping to find that her map was correct. Except the little door opened only an inch before something stopped it. Bloody hell. The bitch had put a wardrobe or something in front of it. Feanna would have to enter through the regular door instead. At least there wouldn’t be a guard outside this door all day and night.
She crept back to the last corridor opening. The patrolling guard had been by only a minute or two earlier. There was time. She eased it open and checked the hallway in both directions. Satisfied that it was clear, she stepped out of the passage and closed the door quietly behind her, and then tiptoed to the corner where the next corridor intersected. She checked both directions, and then continued around to the left and stopped at the second door.
Footsteps approached.
Feanna turned the knob and slipped into the room, quickly yet quietly shutting the door. She pressed her ear to it, listening for any sign she’d been spotted.
The footsteps grew closer.
The candle flickered with the beat of her excitement. Would any of its light leak out around the edges of the door, giving her away? She blew it out. No one was supposed to be in this room.
The footsteps slowed near the door. Feanna held her breath and waited. The guard paused briefly, perhaps pressing her ear against the door on the other side, and then continued on.
Feanna let out her breath quietly. The prospect of being caught was downright thrilling, but it would be terribly inconvenient.
With the danger passed, she turned her attention to the room’s furnishings, eager to find a personal item to suit her purposes. Where she expected to find one wide bed, there were two narrow ones abutting the north wall, and the sleeping form of a young girl in each.
This wasn’t Daia’s room. Whose was it? Jilly’s and Tansa’s? No, these girls had dark hair, and they looked too tall. Then it struck her. One was Iriel, the other the w
retched Keturah.
Feanna felt a rush of heat come into her face and neck, down her arms, down to her toes. This was the bastard girl who threatened her prince’s reign. What marvelous fortune had led her here instead of her planned destination? She had no intention of wasting this perfect opportunity. But which was which? Light streaming in the window from the quarter moon was dim, and she’d had to extinguish her candle. Though she’d never actually laid eyes on Keturah Kinshield before, judging from Eriska’s description, she looked like her father, Rogan. Iriel, too, had brown hair, which in this darkness wouldn’t be a telling feature. The girls were the same age, so she couldn’t tell them apart by size. She looked from one bed to the other. The only way to tell which was Keturah was to have a closer look.
She crept to the nearest bed first. The blankets were pulled up to the child’s neck, and she was on her left side, facing the wall. Feanna leaned over to get a better look, but too much hair flowing over her face made identification uncertain. Perhaps the other girl would be easier to identify.
Her foot kicked a toy as she crossed the room. She sucked in her breath and paused, cursing silently. Damned child. If they couldn’t put their toys away when they were finished with them, perhaps they should learn to do without. Neither child stirred.
When she approached the other bed, the girl turned over onto her back, revealing the face. The brow was heavy, the eyes deeply set, and the jaw was squared. Even relaxed in sleep, the face was clearly Rogan’s bastard.
Feanna set the candle and map on the bed beside the girl and looked around. A rag doll shared her bed, an ugly thing with a flat, round head. She picked it up and looked into its staring button eyes. A smile crept over her face. Sweet dreams, little bastard.
