“Of course.” His tone was defensive.
“Two days,” Octavia repeated. “No longer. I promise. We will stay out of sight.” She led Korbin inside, and he felt an urge to apologize to their host. How many people would put themselves in danger for him? How many people would suffer the same fate as the conduits at Dramworthy? He didn’t like to think what they were being subjected to, if they were even still alive.
A small, thin child’s cry came from the back of the house. A woman’s soft voice muttered soothing sounds.
“We’re sorry to have arrived so late, Navetta,” Octavia said. “Has there been word about further arrests?”
“None since the ones yesterday. Do you think they’re still alive?”
“I hope so.” Octavia’s voice sounded strong.
If Korbin hadn’t known her so well, he never would have realized she was hiding behind a mask of strength. He wanted to take her hand, but she wouldn’t thank him for it.
“I can only take that as a good sign. If they’d been executed, I expect it would have been done publicly,” Octavia said.
Navetta nodded, not looking reassured. “I lost my job. No one wants to employ a Kilovian anymore.”
Octavia offered words of sympathy, and Korbin’s mind turned to Rhikar and all the other Kilovians he’d encountered recently. If all of them lost their work, their ability to survive, what would become of them? Would Rhikar lose his shop? He’d seemed willing enough to leave, but that place must represent years of work.
A woman’s voice stirred Korbin from his reverie. Brigid stood in the doorway, a small woman with intense, dark eyes and black hair parted in the center. She bobbed a small child on her hip. “Did you tell them about Dow?” she asked her husband.
The name made Korbin’s heart stop. “Dow?”
She cast her husband an impatient look. “Tell them,” she said.
Navetta looked up apologetically and shrugged. “A man was going from shop to shop in this area earlier today. He said if anyone saw you, to tell you Dow was looking for you. You are to go to the place you last met with him. He has made arrangements.”
Octavia frowned. “What do you think?” she asked Korbin.
“I’m not sure.” He didn’t like to admit he suspected Eliam of having betrayed them. He felt disloyal for merely thinking it. But he couldn’t lead Octavia into a trap. Not after what had happened at Dramworthy.
“Does anyone else know that name?” she asked.
Korbin was hesitant to answer. He would have sworn that no one knew about Dramworthy. Could he be more certain of this? “We’d never used it before. It is a recent fabrication. The name was one of a mutual friend a long time ago.”
She nodded, as though understanding his cautious answers. “Was there anything else?” she asked Navetta.
“No, Senne. Only those words.”
“What of the man who delivered the message? What did he look like?”
“He was tall for a Talmoran,” he said. “Darker skin than most, a bald head, and a large belly, as though he’d drunk too much. Pale eyes.”
“That sounds like Saqine,” Korbin said. “He’s one of Dow’s most trusted friends.” He’d been about to say servant but realized he would be giving too much away even with that.
“So the message could be authentic,” she said.
“Yes,” Korbin told her, but even if it was Eliam who sent the message, could they trust him? After all, he had signed the arrest warrants. He’d never made an adequate explanation about that. Was he just trying to draw Korbin and Octavia in now that the other conduits had been found? He’d been working for Graiphen before. What if he still was? Or worse, what if he’d been working for the person who’d attacked Graiphen?
Would that actually be worse, Korbin wondered. His thoughts went round and round in circles, but he couldn’t make any sense of their situation or reach any logical conclusion. He hated himself for suspecting Eliam. He’d been a loyal friend over many years.
“We should consider before we decide,” Octavia said. “Discuss and meditate on our next move. The morning will be soon enough. If Dow does indeed wish to aid us, he will still be willing in a few hours.”
“The message did say to come at once,” Navetta said, then looked down in shame at Octavia’s glare.
She appeared put out, but Korbin didn’t blame the man for not wanting anything to do with the Sennestelle. The crofter who’d hidden the conduits in Dramworthy had disappeared along with those he’d sheltered.
Brigid sighed. “Take our room, Senne. You are welcome in our house, of course. Forgive my husband. It is late, and the baby has been keeping us awake at night.”
Korbin expected her to refuse to take their room, to not want to be any trouble, but Octavia graciously accepted. Brigid took a moment to put fresh linens on the bed and clear out a few things, including the baby’s cradle.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” he said to their hosts.
“It is an honor to be of service to the Sennestelle,” Brigid said defensively.
The couple’s bedroom was small, and Korbin and Octavia likely would have been more comfortable on the spacious living room floor with a rolled up blanket for a pillow, but now he understood. She accepted their hospitality as a member of the Sennestelle. It wouldn’t have been right for a conduit to be apologetic. She was appreciative and respectful, but she also accepted what they gave her with the sense that it was right that they offered. In their culture, he supposed it was.
Once they were alone, he asked quietly, “So what do you think? Do we return to the Twining Rose tomorrow?”
“Perhaps you should go by yourself. I intend to seek word of Sen Rhikar, but I must do that on my own. My guess is that he’s gone into hiding, but I cannot be certain. If he has, I won’t find him. If he’s still at his home, he will not thank me for bringing you there a second time. I will be safer alone.”
The last statement hit him in the gut. It was at last an acknowledgement that he was the cause of the danger.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. “I’m sorry,” she said.
The apology caught him off guard. “For what? You’re right. You’re safer without me.”
“I still need your help,” she said. “You’re my link to the dark conduit.”
“You’re waiting for him to attack again,” he said.
“This time, I’ll be prepared. I’d hoped to have my sister conduits’ help, but since I must do this without their aid, I will.”
“Why hasn’t he attacked again before now?” Korbin asked.
“I think perhaps recent events are affecting whoever hired him as much as they are us. This is a clue to the identity of the one behind it all. This is no common man or merchant. This is someone at the heart of everything transpiring in the city right now. That’s a small circle.”
“And if we figure out who is behind it, we can find the conduit himself.” Korbin considered the men of the Council of Eight. He knew of all of them, but hadn’t had contact with them for years. With everyone looking for him now, how could he get close enough to find out more?
“Yes. Or the other way around. We find one cockroach, we find another. We need to know the identities of both.”
“Has it occurred to you that the conduit may have been one of those arrested yesterday?” Korbin asked gently. “If so, we might not have anything left to fear.”
Octavia pressed her eyes closed. “It has occurred to me,” she said. “Time will tell. Meanwhile, we keep up our defenses and I prepare myself for the next attack.”
“And tomorrow I go see what help Dow has to offer.”
After a short pause, Octavia asked, “Do you trust him?”
Korbin frowned. “I’ll be careful.”
Chapter 18
The cold, drizzling sky perfectly reflected the miserable atmosphere in the small apartment. Navetta wanted Octavia and Korbin to leave as soon as possible, saying they should go before the sun was too h
igh, lest people see them. Korbin sympathized with his worries. Brigid and the baby were both fractious, likely caused by a lack of sleep.
Korbin arranged through Navetta to send a message to the Twining Rose, saying he would meet “Dow” that morning. Although Octavia didn’t think it wise to give Eliam warning, Korbin planned to go early to see what, if anything, was waiting for him. That row housed several taverns and inns where Korbin could observe the Twining Rose for at least a couple of hours.
Every moment of his lifetime of experience with Eliam told Korbin his suspicions were unfounded, but a niggling doubt preyed on his mind. Now he had to worry not just about his own safety, but of Octavia’s as well. If she were captured, he had little hope of surviving a second attack from the dark conduit.
As shops were opening for the day, he prepared to leave. He wrapped up warmly, Octavia’s scarf doubled around his neck to hide the protective twining she’d made for him. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Her eyes betrayed her doubts. “Be careful,” she said for at least the third time since they settled on their plan. “Return by a winding route.”
The words cut him. She feared he would lead more soldiers to their hiding place, as, he supposed, she thought he did at Dramworthy. Or perhaps it was his own doubts speaking. If she really believed he had betrayed them, even accidentally, surely she would not stick with him. But then, she was obsessed with finding the dark conduit.
She’d talked of little else all night. Since neither of them could sleep, they lay on top of their hosts’ small, cozy bed and she told him about the dark side of the One. She had to find the person who had done this to Graiphen, to all of them. He, she insisted, was responsible for the chaos that followed, the deaths at Centennial Square, the arrests at Dramworthy, and perhaps much more they didn’t know about.
She planned to complete her preparations while he was gone, then she would look for Rhikar. He was reclusive, had no contact with the community directly, and took in no work in their craft. His main purpose as Vol’s senior conduit had been to train and direct those students under his care. She told Korbin that Rhikar spent much of his time learning and experimenting with the efficacy of various medicinal herbs, stones, and metals in conjunction with forgotten incantations. With a wistful smile, she talked about how he’d been so excited to discover that red iron flakes combined with moon blood would boost a bonding incantation, while common chalk facilitated breakings.
Before Korbin left, she checked his protective twining one last time and arranged his scarf to cover it. She met his eyes and patted him gently on the chest. She opened her mouth, then closed it. He assumed she was resisting the urge to tell him one last time to be careful.
He put his hand over hers. “Everything will be all right.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then exhaled a sigh. “I hope you’re right. I’m worried about my sisters. I wish there was some way we could learn their fate.”
“I’ll find out what I can from ‘Dow’ today.”
He gave her hand a squeeze and left through a side door. He walked into the early morning light and tried his best not to look furtive. It took him nearly an hour to reach the road where the Twining Rose stood. Strolling along, trying to look as though he belonged amongst the other travelers, he stepped into the first inn on the avenue.
It had a small dining room with a limited view of the Rose. He stayed only long enough to have a hot drink before moving on to the next. Two other places didn’t serve the public, only guests of the inn, but he could tell that vantage point wouldn’t allow him a much better view.
By the time he got to the fourth, it was only an hour before his appointed meeting with Eliam. He stepped onto the wide wooden porch that wrapped around the inn and greeted the woman sweeping outside. “Do you serve a morning meal?” he asked. “I’m due to meet a friend, but I’ve arrived in the city early. I could use a taste of something hot.”
“Are you looking for a room?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “Depends if my friend offers his hospitality or not.” He shrugged. “We haven’t seen each other for a long time, and his wife has never liked me much.” Despite the tension twisting his gut, he tried to give a winsome smile.
Just then, a familiar voice sounded in the still-quiet street. Eliam. Korbin couldn’t resist looking, even though his instincts told him to hang back. He turned his head and saw his friend walking down the road, deep in conversation with Dul Tarsten. The pair had such an air about them that no one who looked on could doubt they were important men.
Eliam’s approach surprised Korbin. He’d expected his friend to be more discreet, but then, two legislators visiting an establishment like the Twining Rose wouldn’t arouse suspicion.
Korbin realized he’d missed something the innkeeper had said. “I beg your pardon?” He turned to her.
She went pale. Her broom clattered to the ground. Her small, calloused hand clapped over her mouth and she gasped in surprise.
The entire world seemed to grind to a halt, and Korbin’s every motion felt like it took ten times longer than it should. He had the peculiar sensation of moving through the air as though it was quicksand.
By the time he’d turned back to where she pointed, the narrow street was filled with men in red robes, at least ten of them, the one at the head carrying a lit torch. They surrounded Eliam and Tarsten.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tarsten demanded.
Onlookers backed away, and the innkeeper dashed inside and shut the door behind her, leaving Korbin alone and exposed on the inn’s broad porch. He was frozen, fear and dread rooting him in place.
The men grabbed the legislators and one of them shouted, “You have been found guilty of heresy. None shall stand against the Spirits of Light and Shadow.”
Korbin backed toward the inn’s door, looking for an escape route. He scrambled to a narrow alley on the right. His mind wouldn’t accept what he was seeing. Eliam was being arrested by the Red Manus.
Heresy. The same crime he and Octavia had been accused of.
Eliam and Tarsten struggled against their captors, and the struggle turned quickly violent.
Don’t fight them. They’ll only hurt you. Just go along.
Shouts and the sound of hard strikes told him how wrong he was. The two legislators didn’t stand a chance. Within a few moments, both men were bound with ropes and pushed to their knees.
One of the red-robed men wielded a huge hammer. Korbin watched in horror as it swung in a large arc over the man’s head. He thought for sure it would shatter bone when it landed, but instead, the instrument clanged against metal. He was driving some kind of long, ringed spike into the cobble street.
Tarsten continued to protest loudly, his expression and words betraying more anger than fear. Eliam was quiet but equally disbelieving.
Within moments, ropes were fastened tightly to the iron stake. One by one, the priests took out a flask and splashed something in their prisoners’ faces. Both men spluttered and shouted.
Then, in a quick, horrifying display, the man with the torch lowered it to Tarsten and all the priests backed away from the pair. His scream echoed in the street. Eliam struggled in panic, but the fire leapt the short distance from Tarsten to him, blazing bright orange.
“Hail Braetin, Mistress of Shadows,” one of the priests shouted. The others picked up the call, and they began to chant.
Korbin’s stomach turned and tears sprang to his eyes. “Eliam,” he whispered. There was nothing he could do to save the man who’d been like a brother to him. He clenched his fists as the men’s screams wracked through his mind. After only a second’s pause, he stumbled into the alleyway and started to run.
He fled from the scene, giving no thought to which direction he was heading. Only when he reached the city’s western gate did he realize where he was. He stopped to breathe, but his mind wouldn’t focus. All he could think was that he needed to be somewhere far away.
Eliam’s screams echoed in his ears. He didn’t know how far he’d have to run to silence them, but he’d go as far as needs be.
∞
Octavia sat in uncomfortable silence with Rhikar. She’d never seen her mentor so beaten and depressed. “There’s been no word at all?”
He shook his head slowly. “Not even a whiff of a rumor.”
The city watch had denied they were holding the conduits. Rhikar asked around as much as he dared. His position as a Talmoran citizen gave him some leeway, but in the end, he was Kilovian, and everyone he encountered regarded him with suspicion. They were being blamed for the deaths in the square, for angering the Talmoran gods. There was no rational argument that could combat such unreasonable thought.
Octavia sighed. “What is fated to happen cannot be avoided.”
“You think this madness is fated?” He shot her a dark look.
“I am searching in all the teachings I’ve received over the years for something that will help me accept and understand, but I’m finding nothing.”
His shoulders slumped. “I have been learning for much longer than you, child, and I’m running into the same obstacle. Dark times lie ahead for all of us.”
“And yet you’re still here,” she said. “I wasn’t certain I’d find you again.”
“After today, you won’t.”
“You’re leaving the city?” she asked. “But what about Lettoria, Sonna, Minny, and Pendra? What if one or more of them were not arrested? They may be hiding and need our assistance.”
“You were there,” he said. “Did you see any of them escape?”
“No, but I was running for my life. It’s possible. We can at least ask around. We must think. Where would they go if they escaped Dramworthy?”
“My best guess is that they would come here,” Rhikar said.
“Perhaps, but perhaps not. We talked about keeping moving, staying separate, like we did during the war. They may be doing as I am, and staying with a faithful Kilovian in their district.”
“Don’t tell me where,” he said quickly. “If I am taken, I don’t want to be able to give those madmen any information.”
Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) Page 18
