She hadn’t planned to tell him, but the stark fear on his face made her feel more uneasy than before. She’d hoped he would be calm and reasonable as always, have words of comfort to offer, but she found no comfort here.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “By tomorrow, we will be in a new place.”
“We? You still stay with the Talmoran boy after what happened at Dramworthy?”
“He was attacked by the dark conduit directly. I was there. I believe a second attempt will follow, and I intend to be ready. I will find this person and put an end to his abuse of our sacred teachings.”
“Don’t,” Rhikar said.
“What?” Octavia couldn’t believe her ears. “You of all people should understand why I must do this.”
“You did what you were hired to do, and it’s brought you nothing but grief. Tell the boy to leave the city. I feel certain if he does, he won’t be troubled again. Clearly he was targeted because of his father, but things have changed since Centennial Square. Whoever wanted Graiphen out of the way now has bigger concerns than his son.
“Meanwhile, you should hide. Go underground if you must stay in the city. But don’t risk yourself to search for Lettoria and the others.” He blinked, fighting back tears. “They’re lost to us, and we should not die trying to save what cannot be saved.”
She’d never before heard such talk from him, seen him so defeated and morose. “We must fight this, Rhikar. We cannot abandon our people. I’m not ready to give up on the idea that at least one of the others might have escaped as I did. If we find the dark conduit, he may have materials left that we can use to further unbind Graiphen’s mind. If we can heal him, the temple may lose their hold on him.”
“Oh, child. The Spirit he serves will never let him go, no matter what we do.”
“Why are you so stubbornly willing to believe the worst?” she shot at him.
“Why are you so eager to die?” He asked the question softly and without malice. “Save yourself, Octavia. I could not bear it if…” His voice trailed off. After a long pause, he added, “This is my fault.”
“How?” she asked. “How could any of this be your fault?”
“I should have seen it coming. I should have told you not to take the commission from Dul Graiphen. It was foolish to accept the job not knowing who the target was.”
“Had I known, do you think anything would have turned out differently?”
“You wouldn’t have accepted the job,” he said.
Octavia wasn’t certain. If she had met with the man and seen his condition, could she have turned her back on him? She doubted she could have. Her only hope had been if the name scared her so much she refused to meet with him, but would she have refused? Uncertainty plagued her thoughts. Part of her said yes, but the doubts refused to go away.
“We cannot change what has already passed. You know this. You were the one who taught me the virtue of remembering that fact. We must deal with what is, not what we wish could be.”
“Of course.” He sighed loudly.
She’d never before wanted to slap him, but she did now. He needed to be awakened from this stupor. “So help me. Together we can use Korbin to entrap the dark conduit. I still have the talisman. With it, we can draw him out.”
“You kept it?”
“I’d planned to cleanse it, but it occurred to me that such a thing might prove useful. It’s protected, of course.”
Rhikar’s eyes grew sharp. “There is no protection against this man. You cannot best him, Octavia. Leave it. Please. Don’t you see how dangerous it would be to try to draw him out, as you say?”
“With your help—”
“This is insanity,” Rhikar interrupted. “I will have nothing to do with this. Is the Sennestelle not wounded enough with four captured conduits? Shall we sacrifice ourselves, too?”
“We can protect ourselves. We will be careful.”
“No,” he said, his voice rising as he stood. “No. I will not hear of it. You will not attempt this. You will go into hiding with our own people and send this boy away. We will leave Graiphen for the Talmorans to deal with. Many are not any happier with his new rise in power than we are. This is not ours to fix.”
Octavia stared, stunned. He was forbidding her? “I’m no longer your student,” she said.
“This is for your protection, Octavia. People are dying. Your sister conduits, my students, are dead. I am certain of it.”
“You know something.”
“I feel it. I have trained each of them, worked with their blood. They’re dead.”
“The One revealed this to you?”
His nod was barely perceptible, and with it, Octavia’s hopes were crushed. If anyone could make such a claim, it would be Rhikar.
“They have returned to the source of all life, and their beauty and wisdom enrich us all.” She said the blessing without feeling.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you feel responsible. I had hoped to spare you my insight, but you’re so stubborn.” He started to smile, but instead choked with tears. “Please, Octavia. Do not persue this madness. Promise me.”
“Rhikar—”
“Promise me!” He grabbed her hand. “Swear it before the One.” His eyes were wild and desperate.
She felt trapped. How could she refuse him? But she could not make such a promise. “I will take no undue risks,” she said. “I swear to that.”
“You will hide?”
“Yes,” she said. “I will.”
He exhaled his relief. “Thank you.”
“I should go,” she said. “But before I do, I wanted to ask—”
A scream interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at Rhikar, but her thoughts went immediately to Korbin. The Twining Rose was only three streets over from where she sat. She hated to assume the worst, but her heart started to pound. Without thinking, she stood and rushed to the front door, swinging it open.
“No,” Rhikar shouted from behind her, running to catch up. “Only a moment ago, you swore to take no risks. Are you mad?” He pulled her back and closed the door. He went to the window and peered out. People were rushing by. Another scream sounded, then another.
“Something terrible is happening,” Octavia whispered.
“We must leave this cursed city,” Rhikar said, pressing his eyes closed and pulling the curtains shut.
The sound of hurried footfalls, shouts, and chaos came from outside. Octavia had trouble making out the words in the hurried Talmoran speech, but she did hear the word execution over and over. She would have feared it was her sister conduits, but Rhikar said they were already dead.
“I must go,” she said.
“It’s not safe out there,” Rhikar insisted.
“I will blend in the crowd in the chaos. Dressed as a Talmoran, no one will look twice at me. Please. I must go.” She pictured Korbin and prayed to the One the screams she heard were not his. She knew the One didn’t work that way. What would be would be. What was fated could not be avoided. Still, she whispered heartfelt pleas.
Rhikar’s resigned expression showed that he knew she would not be swayed. “Be careful.”
“Of course.” She kissed his cheek and wondered if she’d ever see him again.
Outside the shop, she watched people rushing by. A small boy was weaving through the crowd, and he ended up very near her. She reached out and grabbed his arm. “What has happened?” She didn’t dare speak to an adult or anyone who might notice her Kilovian eyes.
“Two legislators have been executed,” the boy said. “Lit aflame in the middle of the street!”
Octavia recoiled from the glee on the boy’s face. She let him go without another word, and he scampered into the crowd.
“Dul Eliam,” she whispered. She couldn’t deny the certainty in her soul. Another person who had helped her was now dead. It took a moment for her to realize she’d been standing in one place too long. Steeling her courage, she stepped into the throng and let the frenzied movement of
Talmoran feet carry her away.
Chapter 19
The pressing crowd had thinned and slowed by the time Octavia returned to the safe house, but even here she saw evidence of unrest. Someone had broken a window in a nearby shop. Shouts sounded from around a corner and she could hear still more shattering glass and splintering wood.
Her heart pounded as she walked, and her usual meditative exercises did nothing to calm her. She felt the weight of the stares of passersby, and she expected a troop of soldiers or priests to jump out in her path at any moment.
By the time she rapped on Navetta’s door, the panic had nearly overwhelmed her. It took everything in her to keep a calm exterior, and she didn’t know how long it would last. It felt as though an age passed before Brigid answered the door.
“Greetings, Senne,” Brigid whispered as though afraid a neighbor might hear.
“Has Korbin returned yet?” Octavia swept inside without waiting for an invitation. She could not stand being on the street one moment longer.
“No,” Brigid said.
“Where is Navetta?”
“What is happening? I can see you are worried, and I hear the sounds of many men on the streets. I’ve been afraid to go out.”
Octavia sighed. “Two Talmorans were publicly executed today.”
“What? Why?” Brigid lowered herself into a chair.
“I haven’t heard what the charge was, but one of the people was a friend of Korbin’s.”
“Dow?”
Octavia frowned. Brigid really was far too insightful. “No.” They’d only given their hosts the name Dow, and soon everyone would know Dul Eliam, the representative for this city, had been executed by the temple. No need to connect the two. If their hosts knew the pair had been killed because of their connection with Korbin and Octavia, their gracious acceptance of tradition might come to an abrupt end. Octavia needed their hospitality just a little bit longer.
“Was Korbin there when it happened?”
“I don’t know,” Octavia said. “He left before I did.” Her tone was sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t think straight.
Korbin likely had been there. Did this mean he’d been arrested? If so, she should move to another location before the Red Manus showed up at the door. He might not want to betray her, but nobody could withstand torture indefinitely. She felt a weight of guilt on her chest. If anything happened to Brigid, Navetta, and the baby because of her…
“Do you have family nearby?” she asked.
“My mother lives near here in—”
“Don’t tell me where. You should go there. Now. Don’t take anything. If you arrive with a bag packed, it will draw attention. I will wait for Navetta and tell him to follow.”
“But—”
“Now, Brigid. For your baby’s sake.”
“How long?”
“A few days at least.”
The woman nodded, looking like she might cry. She looked around, as though deciding if she really could go without taking a thing. In the end, she went to the back of the house and fetched the baby from the bedroom. He began to cry, his hair matted to his head as though he’d been awakened from a deep sleep.
Brigid rocked back and forth to soothe him, pressing her lips to his head. She glanced at Octavia. “You will stay?”
“Only until Navetta and Korbin return. Then we will move on. Thank you for your hospitality. Long may your fires burn.”
“May the power of the One forever guide you,” Brigid replied without feeling. She sighed deeply, then grabbed a small blanket from beside the door and wrapped the crying baby against the cold wind. “There is a stew just starting to cook. If you’re still here this evening, help yourself. If you leave, please take the pot from the fire.”
“Of course,” Octavia said. “Thank you again.”
Brigid shifted the baby in her arms, managed to pull her coat on, and left.
The baby’s cries carried until they reached the end of the street, and then Octavia had to strain to listen. She closed the shutters at the front of the house and turned out the lamps. Sitting alone, the room lit by beams of pale sun that peeked through the ill-fitting slats and the dying cookfire, her fears returned.
She knew it was not the time to be idle and certainly not the time to dwell on her fears. Drawing on every last iota of determination she had, she pulled her focus to the power of the One. She was only partially successful. Her efforts did keep the panic at bay, but one ear stayed tuned toward the street, where she hoped she would soon hear Korbin’s footfalls approaching.
Two hours later, Navetta arrived. Octavia sent him on his way quickly, telling him where he would find his wife and child. He had, of course, heard about the executions, but he had little information to add, other than confirming the second victim had been Dul Tarsten.
The name meant little to Octavia, although Korbin had mentioned the man in recent days. She’d not paid too much attention to Talmoran politics before Eliam showed up on her doorstep. She’d certainly never thought these two Duls’ fates would be tied to her own.
The sun started to set and the house grew cold as the wood in the heating stove turned to embers. Not daring to light so much as a single candle, she gathered a blanket from the bedroom and wrapped herself in it. The stew was tepid and the vegetables half-cooked since she’d let the fire die, but the rumbling in her stomach won out, and she prepared a bowl. The flavor was good, even if the consistency wasn’t.
With every passing hour, she started to worry more and more that Korbin wouldn’t return. If he was arrested, there was nothing she could do. If he’d left by his own choice, there was also nothing she could do.
She cleaned the bowl in the darkness. She hated seeing the stew wasted. Navetta and his wife couldn’t afford to throw food away.
Octavia struggled to stay in a meditative state as the hours passed. She went to the small bag that she always carried and took out some of her favorite talismans. They didn’t have any power in themselves, but they helped her maintain focus. Still, no matter how she tried, Korbin’s image intruded on her practice.
Finally, when the street had grown quiet as the neighborhood went to sleep, she took out the token that the dark conduit had attached himself to when he attacked Korbin. It had been carefully wrapped in blood-soaked cloths and bound with silver. But Octavia’s worry for Korbin outweighed her concern that the dark conduit might be constantly waiting to be able to connect to this one item again. The chances were remote, and any practitioner would have expected Octavia to have cleansed it by now.
Her day’s worth of meditation meant her mind was sharp and her connection to the One easy to draw upon. When she touched the item with her skin, the last remnant of the welts on her back tingled. The power in it was still alive, and that surprised her. A shiver ran down her spine as the object pulsed.
Trying to ignore the taint in the token, she kept her attention on its function and the connection to Korbin. Using the sweeping power of the One, she gazed outward. Korbin was nowhere to be found. She frowned and focused harder, spreading her area of insight.
The fear returned as she tried to keep herself from worrying that he might be dead. Pricking her finger with a silver needle, she let her blood touch the back of the talisman where it had burned Korbin’s flesh. A small piece of his skin still clung to it.
When the two essences merged, she felt his warm presence and a smile broke out over her face. He was alive. But was he well? Was he free? Moving from a scanning search to a pinpoint of power, she turned her attention to him. As she gathered her strength and solidified her connection to the One, she caught a flash of Korbin and saw him clearly for an instant. He was free. She saw that much for certain. But she didn’t know where he was. The scenery was unfamiliar.
Then she heard a sound from far, far in the distance. The ocean. He had left, run away. He was no longer in Vol. Gone without a word.
Octavia’s meditative state snapped and the token fell to the ground. She wa
s alone. She shuddered in the cold darkness as the truth of her situation hit her hard.
With a bitter laugh, she scolded herself. She should have known this would happen. He was a child, a baby lord playing at being a hero. He’d never really committed to helping her, just as he’d never truly wanted to help his father. Why he’d stuck with her as long as he did, she didn’t know, but after Dramworthy Farm, why would he stay when the mere mention of witchcraft could get anyone killed?
His best friend had died that morning in what sounded like a gruesome way. When they first met, she and Korbin had talked about what had held him to the city, and she’d questioned whether it was hope for a past that could never return. Maybe the last of Korbin’s hope and loyalty had died with Eliam.
She felt a wave of resentment. Those two had brought this grief to her door, to the entire city’s door. If only they’d never found her. If only she’d turned Dow away.
Putting her tools in her bag, Octavia considered what to do. Now that she knew Korbin hadn’t been captured, she was as safe in this house as anywhere. She would stay what was left of the night and leave in the morning.
But where would she go? What could she do alone? Her only connection left was Rhikar, and he’d made it clear he wouldn’t help her pursue the dark conduit. She had no choice but to give up and hide as her mentor had told her to. All the other conduits were dead. She’d be lucky to find anyone who would shelter her.
For the first time, she considered returning to Kilovia. She hadn’t seen the place in years, but with Talmor returning to fervent worship of its own gods, perhaps her homeland—war-torn, corrupt, and imperfect as it was—would offer her a way to start over. It would be nice to see her mother again, to find out where her sisters had gone or if they’d stayed in Kilovia after she fled.
Pulling the blanket around her, she curled up in the one moderately comfortable living room chair. It smelled of Navetta, and she imagined him spending his evenings there. She only hoped his association with her, however brief, wouldn’t bring him trouble.
Although she had a plan to leave in the morning, she felt utterly lost.
Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) Page 19
