by Anne Bishop
“No,” Sebastian said in an odd voice, raising a hand to point at something half-buried in the sand. “I think this is the right way. Look.”
Koltak gasped when he realized he was looking at the severed horse’s head. “But…it wasn’t like this before.”
“It’s been altered. I’m thinking if you cross the stones outlining the sand, you’ll end up in another landscape a long way from here.” Sebastian looked at Koltak, wariness in every line of his body. “What killed the horse?”
“What does it matter?” Koltak replied, trying to hammer the fear back with righteous anger. She had done this. Must have done this. Had she altered an unprotected landscape into this wasteland? Were there towns out there, suddenly awash in sand?
“What killed the horse?” Sebastian demanded.
“Death rollers. There were death rollers in the pond.”
Sebastian took a deep breath. Blew it out slowly. “Doesn’t look like they’re going to find any water where they are now. Come on. If this was the same pond, we’re not that far from the bridge. I couldn’t have walked more than a couple of hours before I met the waterhorse.” He paused, then added softly, “I wonder what happened to it.”
For the good of Ephemera, Koltak chanted silently. To save Ephemera.
They headed north. One hill looked like another, as far as Koltak was concerned, just as one stand of trees looked much the same as all the others, but Sebastian slowed at each stand of trees, circling each one to study it from every direction.
“It’s this one,” Sebastian said. “After crossing the bridge and walking for a while, I turned south at a stand of trees. I think it’s this one.”
Koltak bit his tongue to keep from saying something imprudent. He couldn’t risk saying anything that would jar Sebastian’s focused thought of reaching the bridge.
They turned west, and in less time than Koltak would have thought possible, they reached a narrow creek.
But not a bridge. No sign of the wood planks.
The demon cycles drifted north, following the creek.
“I see the planks!” Koltak said, his heart pounding with excitement. Almost there. Almost done. If Dalton didn’t fail him…
Suddenly the cycles swung away from the creek, snarling viciously. They circled back, ending up north of the planks, facing the way they’d come.
“Something was here,” Sebastian said quietly. “Something bad.” He looked at the two demons, who finally stopped snarling. “But I don’t think it’s there anymore.” He looked east—the direction that would take him back to the Den.
No, Koltak thought. No. Not now. To save Ephemera. For the good of Ephemera.
Sebastian leaned forward and whispered in the demon’s ear—and kept whispering until the demon bobbed its head in agreement. Then he swung off the cycle and adjusted his pack.
Koltak hurried to do the same. Uneasiness rippled through him when the demon cycles didn’t go away, just moved off a couple of man-lengths from the bridge.
“They’ll stay a little while, in case we need them,” Sebastian said. “If there’s something bad on the other side of the bridge, we need to get away from it fast.”
It scraped at his pride, but he made his voice sound weary and weak. “Would you mind crossing first, Sebastian? If there is trouble, you’re younger and…more fit…to get back across the bridge.”
Hesitation. Wariness.
For the good of Ephemera. To save Ephemera.
Sebastian moved toward the bridge, testing the ground with each step, keeping his eyes on the spot the demon cycles didn’t like. One foot on the wooden planks. Both feet. One step toward the other side of the bridge. Another step.
Koltak hurried to the bridge, stepped on the planks. Sebastian was at the other end of the bridge. One more step and he’d cross over.
He didn’t take that step. Just stood there.
Koltak rushed across the bridge and gave Sebastian a hard shove, sending the younger man stumbling off the bridge.
“Seize him!” Koltak shouted as he took the last step to bring him back to the landscape where all his ambitions would finally bear fruit.
His heart filled with glee as he watched Sebastian trying to fight off two guards. A knee to the groin had one guard rolling away, retching. The other guard seemed more capable but wasn’t trying to do more than restrain Sebastian.
“You lying bastard!” Sebastian shouted, almost shaking off the guard before Dalton and another guard could reach the bridge.
In the light of the flickering torches that were planted on either side of the bridge, Koltak saw the intent in Sebastian’s eyes, but couldn’t move fast enough to prevent being struck.
Lightning lashed out from Sebastian’s hand. It would have been a killing strike if the guard hadn’t hit Sebastian in the head, ruining his aim.
Koltak felt the power rip through his left foot as Sebastian fell to the ground, stunned by the blow.
“Truss him up before he can do any more damage,” Dalton snapped.
One of the guards untied a rope hanging from his belt while the other stripped off Sebastian’s pack. Koltak waited until Sebastian’s hands were tied behind his back and his feet bound before taking a limping step toward his son.
The pain was hideous, and he suspected he’d lost the toes on that foot. But he took another limping step forward, raised his hand…
…and Dalton stepped in front of him.
“No,” Dalton said. “You can’t strike down a defenseless man.”
“He’ll be less trouble without his legs,” Koltak snarled.
He saw the shock in Dalton’s eyes and knew he’d made an error. This guard captain wasn’t suitable for serving the power in Wizard City. But that was something Harland would rectify. For now, he needed Dalton and his men.
“You’re right,” Koltak said. “I wasn’t thinking. A reaction to the pain.”
Dalton nodded, but it was clear the man wasn’t convinced.
“Tell me why,” Sebastian gasped.
Dalton hesitated, then stepped aside.
Koltak stared at his son. The blood smearing Sebastian’s hair and face gave him some satisfaction, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
“I’m no use to you,” Sebastian said. “Why go through all the trouble to bring me here?”
“But you are of use to us,” Koltak said. “You’re going to deliver the enemy into our hands. There was no way for us to reach Nadia or Lee, so you’re the only one she’d come here to save.”
“No.” Sebastian groaned. “No.”
“Yes.” Koltak smiled. “So you see? I didn’t lie. By bringing Belladonna here, where we can destroy her, you will save Ephemera.”
I do not know how things are done in other places in the world, but here in the landscapes there are three kinds of justice: common justice, Wizards’ Justice, and Heart’s Justice.
Common justice is performed by law enforcers and the magistrates who hold court to settle minor wrongdoing and disputes that arise wherever people gather to live.
Whenever violence has been done, a wizard is summoned to decide the penalty. Sometimes it is Wizards’ Justice—the lightning they can summon that, while inflicting agony, is a quick death.
But sometimes the penalty requires something less, and more, than death, and the wizard will send word that a Landscaper is needed for Heart’s Justice.
Nothing produces more fear—and more hope—than Heart’s Justice. The Landscaper forges a direct link between Ephemera and the accused, and that person is sent to the darkest landscape that resonates in his heart. It is an inescapable punishment, because no matter what landscape the person ends up in, he must live with the knowledge that this reflects who he is, and whatever hardships he endures in that place have come from his own heart.
But there is also the hope that a person will learn from his past and change enough so that, one day, he’ll be able to cross over to another, gentler landscape.
Most of the time, though, the
person disappears into some desolate part of the world and is never seen again.
—The Magistrate’s Book of Justice
Chapter Twenty-two
Lynnea closed the door, then leaned her forehead against it, not quite ready to face the empty room. She’d spent plenty of hours alone here, but it felt different this time—because Sebastian wasn’t just out and about somewhere in the Den. He was going to another landscape—the wizards’ landscape—traveling with a man who made her uneasy, even though she’d gotten only glimpses of him. There had been something about the wizard that made her glad the bull demons had wanted a second helping of omelets and had lingered at the table while the man had talked to Sebastian.
Turning, she walked to the pale squares in the opposite wall. With the curtains open, the streetlights cut through the darkness enough for her to cross the room and light the oil lamp on the table by the window instead of fumbling with the candle on the stand next to the door.
Feeling sorry for herself because Sebastian had to go away for a couple of days was foolish and selfish. She had plenty to do. The bag Nadia had left for her contained skeins of yarn—so much softer and finer than the coarse wool Mam used to give her—and knitting needles in different sizes. She didn’t know if the Den had a particular celebration around the winter solstice, but most landscapes had some kind of festivities. So the blue skeins would be a scarf for Teaser and the green skeins would be a scarf for Sebastian. There were enough undyed skeins to make herself a shawl—maybe with bands of blue and green at the ends. And Teaser had offered to take her to one of the little music holes where the musicians were developing some style of music he swore was going to outrage the prissy prigs in the daylight landscapes—and make all the humans with heat and sass wild to hear it. Or they could both enjoy a frustrating hour of him trying to teach her to play cards.
Since she’d lost the coin toss with Teaser over which of them would use the bathroom first, she could knit a few rows of the scarf she was making for him while waiting her turn. For a man who complained about how much time she spent in the bathroom, he certainly did his share of primping.
She walked over to the bed to retrieve the yarn bag she kept tucked under it, then paused. She pulled back the covers and lifted her pillow. Sebastian sometimes left little sketches under her pillow—sometimes flowers as he remembered them or faces of the people who lived in the Den.
Nothing there. Of course, there wouldn’t be. The wizard had been impatient to leave. Sebastian wouldn’t have stayed in the room any longer than was needed to pack a few things.
She pulled out the yarn bag, turned toward the stuffed chairs that made up their sitting area—and saw something white sticking up between the cushion and the arm of the chair.
Smiling, she dropped the bag and hurried over to the chair. Maybe this was like a treasure hunt. Mam hadn’t allowed her to attend parties where she might start thinking too much of herself, so she’d never participated in a treasure hunt, but she’d heard other girls talking about them. Would she start finding little sketches tucked here and there in the room?
She stopped smiling when she picked up the paper. It wasn’t sketching paper, and it wasn’t new. It was a bit crumpled and dirty, as if it had been carried a long way, and the word on the front of it…
She could read a little and do her numbers enough to make sure she wasn’t cheated at the market, and she was getting better at reading now that she could read printed books that had stories—something else Mam had forbidden her to have—but handwriting was still a struggle for her.
She went back to the lamp, turning the paper to see the writing better.
A chill went through her as she sounded out the word.
Belladonna.
Her hands shook as she turned the paper over. It had been folded to form a packet that would keep the message private, closed with red wax that had been pressed with an ornate, official-looking seal.
It could be nothing more than a message Sebastian had been asked to deliver. But something inside her knew it wasn’t an innocent message.
Dread shuddered through her as she pried up the wax seal and unfolded the paper.
The handwriting inside was neat and precise, probably done by someone who made a living writing out important documents.
She stumbled over some of the words, but the message was clear enough.
“No,” she moaned. “Oh, no.”
She didn’t think, didn’t knock. She simply rushed into the bathroom. Finding it empty, she crossed the room and flung open the other door.
Stripped for his bath, Teaser yelped when he saw her. Then he dove for the bed, grabbed a pillow, and held it in front of him.
“I’m naked!” he shouted. “You can’t be in here when I’m naked.”
Thrown by the near-panic in his voice, she stared at him. “For pity’s sake. You’re an incubus. You like being naked in front of women.”
“You’re not a woman. You’re Sebastian’s lady. Go away.”
Sebastian. She stepped into the room and held out the paper. “That wizard left a message for Belladonna. Read it.” She took a step toward him.
He skipped back a step. “If the message is for Belladonna, I shouldn’t be reading it. Neither should you.”
“Teaser! The wizards are saying Sebastian killed the woman who died here a few weeks ago. They’re going to hurt him.”
“What?”
“Read it!”
He took the paper, backed up until he reached the oil lamp he’d lit, then read. As he read, the pillow slipped from his grasp, forgotten.
“Daylight,” he whispered. “They’re summoning the strongest Landscapers to come to Wizard City to administer Heart’s Justice, but they’ll perform Wizards’ Justice if they receive no response to the summons.” He frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. They must know the school was attacked. How do they expect any—” He stopped. Stared at the paper. “It’s her. The wizards have never been able to find Belladonna, so they’re threatening Sebastian to get her to come to them.”
“We have to do something,” Lynnea cried. “Sebastian didn’t kill that woman. You know he didn’t.”
Teaser looked at her, his eyes bleak. “What are we supposed to do? Sebastian has been gone for hours. Went off with the wizard on a couple of demon cycles. They’ve probably already crossed over to the landscape that holds Wizard City. No way to catch up with them even if we knew where to find the bridge. And nobody knows how to find Belladonna. She comes to a landscape when she feels like it.”
“Nadia will know how to find her, and I know how to find Nadia.” She snatched the paper out of his hand and headed out the door.
“Wait!” Teaser leaped, closing the distance between them, and grabbed her arm. “Don’t you understand? This is what those maggot-filled bastards want. They want someone to find Belladonna. And once she’s in reach of the Wizards’ Council, they’ll kill her and Sebastian.”
Lynnea tried to shake him off. “I have to do something. I won’t let them hurt Sebastian. I won’t.”
Teaser started to argue, then just shook his head. “All right. She has to be told about this, so we have to find Belladonna. But taking a few minutes won’t matter at this point.”
“But—”
“Listen, will you? We both need a quick wash and fresh clothes. If we have to talk to anyone in the daylight landscapes besides Sebastian’s auntie, it’s best to look respectable.”
She swallowed hard to push her heart out of her throat. “We?”
Teaser looked uneasy, but he shrugged. “I’ll go with you.”
“Why?”
He released her arm and stepped back. “Because we’re family.”
Dalton walked out of the Wizards’ Hall, then stopped and stared blindly at the courtyard and gardens in front of him.
He’d expected a reprimand for failing to protect Wizard Koltak from the stranger’s attack. But this?
Stripped of his command and cap
tain’s rank. Exiled from Wizard City. Not because he had failed to protect Koltak but because he’d stopped Koltak from harming a man who was bound and defenseless.
A man who believed he had been betrayed.
You’re making a mistake, Koltak! the stranger had shouted as they rode back to Wizard City. The Eater of the World is out there! Belladonna’s the only hope you have of saving Ephemera!
The stranger’s fate was in the hands of the wizards now. He couldn’t help the man, wasn’t even sure if he could help himself at this point. He had to get his wife and children out of the city before tomorrow’s sunset, along with whatever household goods they could take with them in the big merchant wagon that had belonged to Aldys’s father.
But where were they supposed to go? And who could he ask about other landscapes whose answer he could trust?
As if pulled by an invisible string, Dalton’s head turned in the direction of the detention rooms.
There was one person who might know.
A quick glance around the courtyard. Addison was standing by the wrought-iron gate that led to the street. No sign of Guy or Henley. They must have gone back to the barracks.
Dalton headed for that part of the courtyard, walking past the locked doors and shuttered windows of the detention rooms until he came to the last one. When he’d left the prisoner there, he’d noticed a fist-sized piece of window glass had been broken out of the farthest window. Maybe the last person who had been detained in that room had broken the glass in a futile effort to escape. Or maybe he’d been desperate to hear something besides the silence of his own heart. Whatever the reason, the opening was there, and Dalton thanked the Guides of the Heart for this chance to talk to the man.
He leaned against the wall, close to that corner of the shuttered window. “Psst. Can you hear me?” He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard by anyone who might pass by. If another guard saw him, he could say he was keeping watch on the prisoner. But if a wizard noticed him, he had no doubt he’d be occupying another of those locked rooms and would never see his wife and children again.
