EXILE'S RETURN

by Kate Jacoby

  “It didn’t touch you?”

  “No. Just you and Jenn. I’ve never seen that happen before. What was it?”

  “I don’t know.” The pounding in his head subsided to a dull throb and with Finnlay’s help, Robert stood. His left arm still burned but he had to see Jenn, had to know she was all right.

  As he knelt down beside her, Micah glanced at him with a look which, despite his shock, bordered on wry humour. “I thought you knew what you were doing.”

  “Aye, so did I.” Turning to Jenn, Robert tried to find any sign of life in her face. Eyes closed and with a face as white as snow, Jenn barely breathed. Not daring to touch her, he leaned forward and called her name.

  Slowly, her eyes opened and locked on his. They focused and she gave him a weak smile. “Yes?”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I feel fine,” she whispered. “But you ...”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he shook his head. Strictly speaking, she should be dead—a flash like that would be enough to kill. Not that it had ever happened before—at least, not to him. And why should it happen now? There was no reason at all. He reached out to help her sit up but the moment he moved his left hand pain flashed through him like lightning. He gasped, suddenly dizzy, and Finnlay scrambled to his side.

  “By the Gods, Robert, look at your hand!”

  Robert lifted his arm to the light. His hand was red and burned, his fingers clenched in a tight fist. Steeling himself against the pain he slowly released the fist, opening one finger after another until his palm and the stone that laid there were revealed.

  “Serin’s blood!” Finnlay swore, and with good reason, for the smooth river stone which had once been alight with fire now lay broken in two, split through the centre.

  Robert stared at it for a long time. That small familiar shape was now gone and replaced with something entirely different. He could hardly recognize it, and yet he knew it was his own ayarn. The pain in his head subsided and was replaced with a sensation less familiar but no more welcome. But fear was a healthy thing and he took a deep breath before turning his gaze back to Jenn.

  “How did she do that?” Finnlay murmured breathlessly. “No one can split an ayarn. It’s impossible!”

  “Obviously not.” Robert sat back and, with his right hand, carefully picked up the pieces of the stone. He slipped them into a fold of his shirt and got to his feet. “It seems we’ll be going to that Gathering after all.”

  Finnlay kept watch all through the day, mostly in the shelter of the lean-to, where it was warm. He kept his ayarn out, not daring to let an hour go by without scanning for that guard. But still they did not come. The weather had cleared to a fine drizzle, so he was happy they were not actually travelling.

  As the light began to fade, Robert came out to him with a mug of warmed wine.

  “Still no sign?” he said, turning his gaze to the ridge.

  “Nothing. I don’t understand it.”

  “Perhaps they thought we’d be too far ahead to catch by now. On the other hand, they may have come to the same conclusion about the bridge as we did.”

  “By the gods, I hope not!” Finnlay sighed. “The last thing we need right now is a confirmed sighting of sorcery. I just hope they didn’t recognize you.”

  Robert shrugged and leaned back against the wall. His face, as usual, was impassive, his tone casual. He gave no outward sign that he was concerned about anything. How did he do that? How could he just ignore the situation? After all, it was a good thing that guard wasn’t coming up the ridge because without his ayarn, it would almost kill Robert to provide a mask big enough to hide them. But did he say anything? Do anything? No. He just stood there as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Irritation grated at Finnlay. He wanted to shake Robert’s almighty calm, wake him up to the reality of life—Lusara, the Enclave, the bloody Guilde. He took in a swift breath. “What do you think Oliver is up to?”

  There was almost no reaction. Merely the shift of Robert’s gaze from the mountains. “I don’t know. He’s a grown man, Finn. I have no say in his decisions.”

  “Then you think he’s plotting something with Blair? They’re a powerful combination, you know, but not remotely strong enough to overthrow Selar. They wouldn’t be able to get the support they needed—but if you joined them...”

  Robert turned and began walking away, down the ridge. Finnlay dropped his cup and hastened after him. “If Oliver is mixed up in treason it’s because you refuse to do anything about Selar. He’s only involved now because of you. And don’t forget, he knows about us—don’t ask me how, but he does. That makes it even more dangerous to leave him alone. He should be Sealed, too. We should have stayed and done it, then, if he’s ever captured he can’t tell anyone what he knows.”

  Robert came to a halt on the edge of a sharp drop and gazed down along the ridge. His hair was black with the rain and sticking to his face but he seemed oblivious to it—along with everything Finnlay had said.

  “I wish you’d make up your mind, Finn. If we’d stayed, Arlie would be dead now. If I go and join Oliver then I could never Stand the Circle and lead the Enclave. As it is, I’ve said I’ll go to the Gathering.”

  “But you won’t Stand, will you?”

  “No.” Robert turned to look at him, his green eyes dark and full of something Finnlay could not understand. “You don’t know Oliver is involved in treason, but even if he is, I can’t do anything to stop him and you know I won’t join him. When will you learn, Finn, this is a battle you will never win?”

  With that, Robert turned and headed back towards the shack. But Finnlay couldn’t leave it there. “And what about Jenn? Your ayarn,”

  Robert stopped and faced him again. “What about her?”

  “We’re about to take her to the Enclave—through the gate. After what happened with your ayarn, we have no idea how she’ll react to the screens.”

  “I suppose it would be rather disconcerting if she managed to blow the top off the mountain.”

  Finnlay stiffened. “That’s not funny. Sealing is supposed to keep the secret of the Enclave so that it’s impossible for someone to talk about it with anyone who’s not also Sealed. But how do we know it worked with Jenn?”

  “We could test her.”

  “You Sealed her, Robert, and therefore only you can test it. Without your ayarn you can’t even do that much. Think about it. We’re about to reveal a secret that’s been kept safe for centuries. For all we know she could walk out and tell the first person she meets. And that, as I’m sure you know, would mean the end of us all.”

  Morning came, and with it, a low cloud of fog which hung about the mountains like a funeral cowl. Soft and eerie, it damped every sound so that even the movement of the horses along the rocky path was deadened. Tall granite towers lined their passage through the mountains, appearing like ghosts through the mists. Going right through her thick woollen cloak and heavy dress, that same fog seeped into her bones—and into her soul.

  Sorcery!

  Was it possible? Was the legendary Earl of Dunlorn really a sorcerer? It was inconceivable! And why had she never heard about it before? He must have some trick to hide it. They all must...

  And she was now one of them.

  All night she’d lain awake going over what had happened at the bridge. Over and over until she finally found the moment. That’s all it had been, too—a single moment. With Micah hanging over the side, she’d cried out to the gods to make the bridge hold fast so they could get Micah to safety. Just that—a tiny, single second in time. That’s all it had taken. And that was sorcery?

  But there was no such thing any more. It was history—fact! How could it be a lie—for five hundred years? Oh, Robert had been so perfectly calm telling her—bringing out his stupid ayarn, and for what? So he could almost kill them both?

  And now she was travelling with them, the Guilde searching for them. The Guilde ... those monsters ... And where was Robert tak
ing her? To meet more sorcerers? Would they let her go afterwards?

  No. They wouldn’t. If there were so few of them around they’d want to keep every one they found. She would be a prisoner—their prisoner. A prisoner of sorcerers. A prisoner of evil forever hunted by the Guilde.

  But it was not too late. If she found the right moment, she could slip away. If she could find her way back down through the mountains she would be free of them. But she had to do it now, before they went too far.

  She looked around. They were travelling along a narrow track which wound along the mountainside. Micah had ridden beside her all morning. It was impossible not to like him. His sunny face and guileless blue eyes held nothing but warmth and concern for her welfare. As though sensing her disquiet, he’d stayed by her side, almost willing her to be comforted. But he was nursing his wounds and although he made light of them, she knew he must be in pain. On the other hand—that could be useful. Micah would be less likely to notice her absence if she just slipped away. The others rode in front, Martha supporting Arlie and Robert leading the trail.

  Hardly daring to hope, Jenn let her horse slow down little by little until the others disappeared around a corner of the track. She came to a stop and waited. With a little smile she turned her horse and headed downhill. She had to move slowly and quietly. Just a little further, past this granite tower...

  The bridge.

  There was no other way down without crossing that canyon—or was there? She stopped again and quickly ran over in her mind every turn they’d taken since leaving the ridge. Yes, there was a way. A path that would lead down into the valley.

  When she found it she almost laughed. It was steep, across the slope of a ridge, but they would never catch her—especially if she wasn’t on the same trail as them. The fog swirled around her, but now it had become her friend, hiding her more and more as she travelled further away from them. She couldn’t see very far ahead, the mists were too thick but here and there, great boulders appeared out of the gloom like sentinels guarding her path.

  Then abruptly the trail died out—but it continued a little further up. Turning her horse towards it, she saw the old path had ended in a cliff dropping away so far she couldn’t see the bottom. It was lucky she’d been paying attention. She continued on the new path for a while when suddenly the horse lurched on the shifting rocks. She gasped, grabbing a tight hold. The horse stumbled again, unable to find a solid footing. Stones tumbled down the slope beneath her as the horse began to panic. With a scream, it reared and she fell to the ground.

  The horse reared again and she scrambled to catch the dangling reins, but the rocks worked against her. Falling now in a sliding sheet, the rocks beneath the horse rumbled downwards, taking the poor animal with them. With a final scream, the horse went over the drop and disappeared.

  Jenn closed her eyes and tried not to listen to it land. A dull thud came seconds later, going right through her heart. How could she have been so stupid? So careless? So full of herself, she’d managed in less than half an hour to kill that pitiful horse—and in such a terrifying manner. And where had her so-called sorcerer’s powers been? Had she managed to save the horse? No!

  She lay there for a moment, not even bothering to hate herself. Then with a sigh, she moved. There was nothing for it now but to continue on foot. She got to her feet, steadying herself with her hands. She took one step forward but the rocks slid again. With a groan they shifted and she stumbled, landing on her knees. She would have to turn back before this whole mountainside collapsed beneath her.

  Terror gripped her. Heart pounding in her ears, she came to her feet once again. She turned slowly but the moment her foot came down she lost her balance and fell flat on her face. She scrambled for some purchase but the entire slope was moving, dragging her down. With the drop only feet below her, she screamed—

  And something grabbed her arm. She stopped sliding, gasping for breath as the rocks beneath her continued their journey over the cliff.

  “Keep still!”

  It was Finnlay. He had hold of her. She tried to look up. She caught a glimpse of him stretched out on his stomach, his strong hand gripping hers—the other hand holding his ayarn. Behind him, on the solid path was a shadow—horses, people...

  “I said keep still—this isn’t easy, you know!”

  Slowly the rocks around her stopped moving, but he didn’t let go.

  “Now, put your feet down—there, where it’s solid. Be quick, I can’t hold it for long.”

  She dug her toes into the rocks again, but this time they stayed firm. Grabbing the nearest handhold, she dragged herself upwards, feeling Finnlay pull on her arm at the same time. Her knees and legs scraped against the sharp rocks but she hardly noticed. Inch by inch she moved upwards, not daring to look.

  “Keep coming. Just a little further.”

  Finally, she managed to get on to her hands and knees and clambered back to the original trail. Finnlay sat beside her, getting his breath back. She dropped her head, gulping in air and fighting back tears. Her hands were shaking, but suddenly there was an arm around her shoulders and Micah’s murmured words of comfort. She turned and buried her head in his chest. Freedom or death. It seemed she had no choice at all now.

  “You have to admit, it was a pretty stupid thing to do.”

  Jenn turned in the saddle and tried to see the expression on Micah’s face. He wasn’t angry—merely pointed. For hours they’d shared the horse and in all that time he hadn’t spoken, but then, neither had she.

  “You could have got yourself killed along with your horse,”

  Micah continued. “It also wasn’t very nice of you to get me into trouble like that. I was supposed to be looking after you. I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job.”

  “But it wasn’t your fault!” Jenn replied before she could stop herself. “I didn’t mean ...”

  Micah reached forward and patted her arm. “I know, Jenn, but you should know, these are good people. You have nothing to fear. They will never harm you.”

  “I wasn’t afraid.”

  Micah didn’t reply and they sank into silence for a while. But Jenn didn’t want the silence. She wanted to know ... so much. “How did you find me?”

  “Finnlay found you. He’s a Seeker.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I could tell you, but the question is, should I? Do you really want to know or are you just making conversation?”

  “She really wants to know, Micah,” Robert murmured behind them.

  Jenn glanced over her shoulder at him. He was gazing unconcernedly up at the grey sky, watching the fog slowly clearing.

  “A Seeker,” Robert continued, “has the ability to search for a person he or she knows. It is a rare but very useful talent and one which takes years to perfect. A truly powerful Seeker can even detect the aura of a sorcerer he’s never encountered before—but the conditions have to be right.”

  “What is an aura?”

  “A kind of signature, if you like, part of our powers. Every one of us is different.”

  “So I couldn’t have got away anyway?”

  “No.” He turned his gaze on her. “What I need to know, however, is why you would want to? Are we such terrible company? Or do you still not believe in sorcery?”

  Believe? What kind of question was that? How was she supposed to respond? “Oh, I believe. I just don’t understand. How can I? What have you told me? Nothing. You didn’t even ask if I wanted to know.”

  Robert brought his horse alongside but kept his gaze on the others ahead. He smiled. “An interesting concept—asking you if you want to know something without telling you what it was. I assume, though, what you really want to know about is sorcery.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Jenn demanded, annoyed by his tone.

  “No question—I did when I was in your position. But I do apologize, I really should have told you more yesterday.”

  “Then tell me now!” If Jenn had been standing she would have s
tamped her foot, but she contented herself with a simple glare. “Where are we going? Why me? Why doesn’t anybody know about sorcerers?”

  “About us, you mean?” Robert smiled again. “That’s deliberate. We keep our powers secret because we’d be destroyed otherwise—just as the history books say. And yes, before you ask, we can be destroyed. We nearly were once. A few survived and came here to Lusara to found the Enclave. With the help of an object called the Key, the Enclave has remained a secret and its defences still stand today, five hundred years later. The Enclave is a community of sorcerers. They survived the early years but not without loss. Within a year of its founding, the Enclave suffered a great tragedy, a fire, which almost destroyed the library they’d brought with them. As a result, much of what we once were has been lost. One of the Enclave’s great tasks has been to regain what was lost.”

  “And all the sorcerers joined this Enclave?”

  “Not exactly. Some were killed, others left and drifted into obscurity.”

  “And some,” Micah added, “became Malachi.”

  “Indeed,” Robert nodded, “but I’ll go into that another day. As to why you are a sorcerer? Again, I don’t know. As far as we know, talent is not passed from parent to child. My brother and I have powers, but neither of our parents did—in fact, nothing in my family history even hints at it. That’s why we have Seekers. It seems that sorcerers develop their talents as they come into adulthood. As I said, often the first experience is a shock. Seekers go out into the country looking for these people and hopefully bring them back into the fold. Only about half of our sorcerers have children with talents.”

  “And we’re going to the Enclave?” Jenn asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “And will I be allowed to leave?”

  “Of course! It’s not a prison. You’re just as free today as you were yesterday.”

  “Then why are we going? Because I broke your stone?”