Soaked to the skin, Kareste scanned the clearing, his eyes skimming over Slevoic, but they snapped back, as I formed out of the rain next to the Vicious.
“You.” He raised his hands, his fingers crooked.
I dropped my staff to snatch up Slevoic’s sword from where it lay next to him. Lifting it double-handed above my head, I brought it down, severing the cord between the Vicious and the Magus. Kareste jerked and howled in astonished rage as whatever he worked up fizzled out in his hand. He grabbed at me, but I moved to the other side and brought the sword down once more, severing the threads to the rebel troopers. He jerked and howled again.
“All by himself, Kareste,” Moraina rumbled. “Without Faena, Enchanters, dragons or spheres.” Thrusting the sword into the ground, I stepped in front of Kareste, raising my own hand.
“Does Rabbit know not to kill with his talent?” Wyln asked.
“He should,” Laurel said.
My fist caught Kareste under his chin, and I could hear his teeth click as his mouth was slammed shut. He flew backwards, his eyes rolling up into his head as he landed on the ground. I walked over, yanked him up by his robe, and hit him again for good measure. Then once more, because he was there.
“That’s enough, Two Trees’son,” the Fyrst said. “Leave some for the Faena.”
I dropped Kareste and he fell back with a splat. The ice dragon and Pru Oak floated over, staring down at the Magus in the mud oozing up between the pine needle cover. The unicorn, leopard and other haunts joined us, surrounding him.
There was a soft groan as Slevoic started to come to and Basel, shifting into his man form, quickly floated over so that when Slevoic’s eyes fluttered open, he was staring into the haunt’s face. Slevoic gave a muffled shriek and scooted back. He rolled to his feet, staggering, his terror-filled gaze taking in not only Basel, but Suiden and Moraina too, both focused very hard on him. He made a quick gesture and he was once again outlined in fire. “Stay back, or I’ll burn the whole freaking place down.”
“That’s a poor threat,” Wyln remarked, holding his hand out to the rain.
I sighed and, picking up my staff, faced Slevoic. “The trees weren’t torched during the last war, Vicious, because the Royal Army found out that wood doesn’t burn well when it’s soaking wet. It’s astonishing what a little water magic can do.”
“Do we have to let Rabbit fight this one?” Suiden asked.
“No,” Moraina replied, eyeing Slevoic’s hauberk.
“Good,” Suiden rumbled. He started towards the Vicious.
This time Slevoic’s shriek was piercing loud, and he took off running into the trees. I started after him.
“I wouldn’t,” Wyln said. “They are not very happy right now.” I came to a sudden halt as all the tales I’d heard of angry forests rose up and I stared into the rain-misted dark beyond the clearing, vaguely glad that I wasn’t Slevoic. Behind me, however, was an explosion of hooves against wet ground, and Ryson sped by, riding hard after the Vicious.
Sheep-biting— “Ryson, no! Bloody hell, stop! That’s an order!”
I ran to the tree line and stopped; however, Basel flew past me after him, followed by Honor and several other haunts, all swallowed by the forest. I stared into the murk but couldn’t see anything.
“Come away, Rabbit,” Wyln said. “There’s nothing you can do.” He rode over to where I stood and, turning his horse, placed it between me and the trees. “Even I wouldn’t go after them. Not now, and definitely not with my fire aspect.” He started moving me back into the middle of the clearing. As he did, there was a long, drawn-out scream. Then silence.
“Pox rot it,” Jeff whispered.
“Your soldier was brave, if stupid,” the Fyrst said. “We will hold a memorial—”
He broke off as the shadows moved and, a few moments later, Ryson emerged, Basel and Honor on either side of him. I glanced away from the awful gladness on Basel’s face, only to collide with the dragon skin hauberk lying across Ryson’s saddle front. As he got closer I could see streaks as the blood on it was washed away by the rain.
“The trees gave this to me,” Ryson said. “For his dam, they said.” He swallowed, the sound loud above the rain. “I would’ve gotten the staff, but Basel and the lady ash tree sprite didn’t seem to think it was a good idea.”
“We will retrieve it later,” the Fyrst said. “After they calm down a bit.”
I looked over to where Pru Oak’s and the Dragon Gwyyn’s ghosts hovered by Kareste, still prone on the ground, and saw how Laurel cautiously approached them, his ears flat against his skull. The ice dragon haunt turned his head towards Ryson.
“Uh, maybe you ought to give honored Moraina the skin, Ryson,” I said, stepping a little closer to Wyln. The Enchanter glanced down at me and then slid a smug look at Suiden.
As Ryson hurried to the dragoness, Jeff brought one of the rebels’ horses for me. “Are you all right?”
Sudden weariness weighed down on me, but I nodded. “Yeah, I suppose.” I started to mount.
“Rabbit, your eyes!”
I paused with my foot in the stirrup, staring up at Jeff.
“What—?”
Wyln leaned down, cupped my chin, raising my face to him. The others crowded around.
“The mark of his water mastery,” Moraina murmured, taking over my chin with a talon and turning my face to her. “They are such a pretty blue, like some jewels I have—”
“Rabbit, Wyln, I need you,” Laurel said from where he stood over Kareste. He glanced at the harbormaster. “You too, Lin.”
I stifled a sigh and, handing the reins back to Jeff, walked over to the Faena, my eyes on the haunts, ready to backtrack fast. Joined by Wyln and Lin, I watched as the three, Laurel with earth, Wyln with fire, and—to my surprise—Lin with air, drew wards over Kareste. Laurel looked at me. “Water, Rabbit.” I hesitated, then traced the race of a river to the sea, strong and swift.
“Excellent,” Laurel said when I finished and, stooping down, patted Kareste’s face until the ice shard eyes opened. “Awake?” Laurel asked.
Kareste glared, saying nothing as his hands flexed, testing his bonds.
“Good.” Laurel straightened, raising his paw, the truth rune glowing. “For your use of the forbidden, for your spilling blood with your talent, for your defilement of the Lady, I pronounce you accursed and declare her judgment.” He rapped his staff end against the ground and even through the rain it sounded like a judge’s hammer. “You are bound, Kareste. By earth, wind, fire and water, you are bound, until the Lady has mercy.” Laurel stepped back, motioning for us to do the same, and gestured with his staff. There was a rumble, and then roots burst out of the ground, arcing over the Magus and plunging back into the ground on the other side, tightening.
“So you are bound,” Laurel repeated, “in talent and in body.” He then smiled, showing his fangs. “But lest you feel lonely”—he indicated Pru Oak, Dragon Gwyyn, and the other haunts ringing us—”by the Lady’s will, these’ll bear company with you. Moon season or no. Until they will otherwise.”
Laurel turned away with a flick of tail and ear, and after bowing at the haunts, walked back to where the Fyrst and the rest were. Wyln, Lin and I followed, and in a moment those who rode were mounted and we left the clearing, with the Magus’ shouts and curses fading behind us.
“Well done,” the Fyrst said. “I would add just one more thing.” He turned to me, waving a hand at the sky. “A little drier, if you please, Two Trees’son.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The clouds immediately started to thin.
“Except over the Magus.”
I smiled. “Yes, Your Grace.”
He continued to stare and my smile faded. “Your Grace?”
“They are a very pretty shade of blue,” the Fyrst said.
I stifled another sigh as I heard not only Jeff, but Javes, Groskin, and the rest of my troop mates snicker. Even Suiden gave a suspicious rumble. “Yes, Your Grace.”
&nbs
p; Chapter Sixty-eight
“Had you lost your mind, Lieutenant?” Suiden said, whatever amusement he had felt at my eyes turning blue gone. His own green eyes flamed down at me as I lay on my stomach on a table. He and all the other translated folk had been changed back, so I faced the wrath of my captain in man form. I didn’t think it was any better.
We were in the castle guard’s bathhouse, complete with a steam room, tubs of hot, warm, and cold water, and a small infirmary where minor hurts were seen to. I was there instead of in the castle because it was attached to the barracks on the ground level, and those who couldn’t fit into the infirmary were able to stand in the armory courtyard and watch through the various openings. Dragoness Moraina took an entire window for herself. The fae and fantastic, not being really big on modesty—or at least mine— saw nothing wrong with my examination by Laurel and the castle healer, and, my subsequent hot bath to ease the aches and bruises, being an open-air show. (Jeff snickered a lot.) Things were happening and they wanted to be in on them. Even His Grace’s bard was there, lute slung over his shoulder, having squeezed into the room by threat of satirical lyrics. He was no doubt composing eddas preserving for future generations how I looked naked.
Laurel was now slathering salve on my bruised back, having already attended to my wrists and ankles. Wyln stood next to him, with a cup of the same vile tea as I had on the ship in his hand. An entire teapot of it rested on a lit brazier. By the looks on either of their faces, there was no escaping it.
“He was a master mage,” the Fyrst said, picking up where Suiden had left off, “who had given himself over to the dark arts. However well it turned out, it was not wise to go after him by yourself, Two Trees’son.”
“Apparently Rabbit thinks he’s invincible because he has magical powers, Your Grace,” Javes said.
“Nay,” Uncle Havram said. “All lads his age think they’re immortal, and are stupid with it.”
“Indeed, that’s true,” Esclaur said, his splinted arm in a sling.
My da said nothing, but glancing up I could see the lines on his face had deepened as he watched Laurel tend to my bruises. He laid a gentle hand on my head. “Are you all right, Rab?”
“Yes, Da,” I said. In spite of myself—and Suiden—I started to smile at my childhood name, but winced as Laurel found a tender spot.
“Sticklebutt heedless,” Suiden started again. “Sheep-biting, bucket-head, pox-witless, cow-baiting, dead-fish, numb-arse, gape-seed stupid, Lieutenant.”
Jeff and my other troop mates standing at a window watched wide-eyed, while Groskin’s lips moved as he committed the captain’s invective to memory. Ryson, though, was trying to play least in sight. It didn’t work, as he’d mildewed again and Suiden was able to find him by smell.
“And you, trooper. What the pox-rotted hell were you thinking of?”
Ryson slid a look at Laurel, then down at his feet. “That if I caught Slevoic it’d show that I wasn’t, uh, his anymore and then maybe everyone would talk to me again, sir.”
Suiden gave Laurel a narrowed glare. “Been spreading goodness and light through my men, Sro Cat?”
Laurel finished, draped a towel over my shoulders and helped me sit up. (I was thankful I’d been allowed to put trousers on.) “I’m a Faena, no? It’s what I do. Bringing balance and so forth.”
“Balance,” I repeated, spreading my hand and tracing the rune, feeling it warm under my fingertip. “I lifted the rune against both Kareste and Slevoic, Laurel, but nothing happened.” My mouth twisted. “Slevoic said he liked what he was.”
My da’s hand slid to my shoulder and tightened.
Laurel sighed, wiping the salve off of his paws. “There are those who have so seared their conscience—usually through some fatal flaw, such as the Magus’ lust for power or the Vicious One’s pleasure in others’ pain—that lifting the rune against them would be like trying to drown a fish.”
“But didn’t you lift it at Kareste?” I asked, tracing the rune again. “Before, in the hall, when we were fighting?” The rune grew warmer and started to glow. My father stared at my hand.
“No,” Laurel said. “As I’ve told you, Rabbit, you’re not the only one to chew the mentha leaves. My battle with Kareste was with the talent.” His whiskers swept back to show his fangs. “Kareste used my staff to work abominations, and so I came against him as one of the Earth, in the name of the Lady Gaia. And as one master against another.” Laurel walked over to where his staff leaned against the wall, next to mine. “Honor never taught you to read a staff?”
“Read a staff?”
“What the feathers, cloth strips and beads mean, Rabbit,” Laurel said as he picked his staff up and hefted it a couple of times, making everything flutter and clack. “The fact that it’s carved.”
I stared at the cat for a moment; then my mouth fell open. “They sent the head of the Faena to come get me?”
“Never send a novice to do a master’s job.” Laurel brought the staff down again. “What you should be asking yourself, though, is whose staff do you have?” I stared at my plain staff made of ash wood and felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.
“What did you see, Rabbit?” Laurel asked, and our audience leaned in to listen.
“It came up out of the ground,” I said, my voice faint. “I was plowing a field and it rose before me, a fruit hanging upon it.”
“The earth sphere?” Wyln asked.
“Yes, honored Cyhn.”
“So mystical,” Wyln said. “Not like fire at all.”
“The Lady has shown her acceptance of Rabbit,” Laurel said, and a murmur swept through the courtyard.
I pushed down the thought of Doyen Allwyn’s and Brother Paedrig’s reaction to that. “Is it Honor’s?” I asked, my voice hushed.
“Yes,” Laurel said. “It must have given the Magus a shock to see you with it.” His whiskers swept back again. “A very big shock.”
“I bet,” Uncle Havram murmured.
“But I thought everybody got their own,” Javes said, aiming his quiz glass at the staff. “Didn’t you say you were Gifted with yours during some ceremony?”
“Usually that’s true,” Laurel said, putting his own staff back against the wall. “Every once in a while, though, a staff is passed on. Just like every great once in a while, someone has more than one aspect.” He watched me closely. “You’ve worked earth before, no? In the embassy in Iversly when everyone translated for the first time.”
Groskin, Jeff, and the rest looked at me. Hard.
“Yes,” Javes answered for me. “Contrary to what you said at the time.”
Laurel sighed. “I have the truth, honored captain, but not the whole truth. No one could contain that and live. I just knew that I hadn’t, and I didn’t think Rabbit could, so I reckoned that the Lady herself took a part. As she has been known to do.” His eyes returned to me. “And as my rune didn’t burn, perhaps she did.”
“Perhaps,” Suiden said, uninterested. He returned to what was important, pinning his glare back on me. “But I don’t care if the heavens come down and declare your glory, you will not go off by yourself again, Lieutenant. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I said, do you understand, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good,” Suiden said. He started to lean back against a table, folding his arms across his chest, but Javes cleared his throat. Suiden shot a look at the vice admiral and then the Fyrst and straightened quick.
A faint smile passed over the Fyrst’s face as he looked at me. “I found it very interesting to see you disappear in the rainstorm, Two Trees’son. That is a master’s ruse.”
“It was also very familiar, Your Grace,” Suiden said, his green eyes glowing once more.
So it was.
“But not just you being lost on the mountain, what?” Javes now aimed his quiz glass at me. “The lieutenant is known for hiding in plain sight.”
“That’s right, sir,” Je
ff said, also staring at me. “Everybody talks about how he stood right in front of Slevoic and the Vicious didn’t see him until it was too late for him to do anything.”
“Sliding through the gates at Veldecke,” Groskin said, “and no one stopping you.” He considered me. “It’s also probably how you got away from the convoy leader and her grog guard.”
Probably so.
“Even others—the harbormaster slipping away from the commander without being seen,” Javes said.
“He always could disappear right under your nose,” Da said, looking down at me, worried.
“But I didn’t do anything,” I said. “At least not those times. It just happened.”
“ ‘Just happened’ happens a lot around you, lad,” Uncle Havram said.
“That’s true.” Da sighed. “It was why we allowed Kareste to convince us to apprentice Rabbit to him.”
“Raw talent can be capriciously unsettling, which is why those who are talent-born must be apprenticed,” Wyln said. “Drink your tea, Rabbit.”
“But sirs,” Jeff said as I gagged down the bittersweet tea, “I can see why he disappeared against the Magus, but why cause us to get lost in the mountains?”
“Not why, Trooper Jeffen,” Suiden said, now looking at Laurel. “Who.”
“Me?” Laurel’s ears flicked back as he refilled my cup. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t even know he was coming,” I said at the same time. I scowled at the tea.
“No, but your aspects did,” Wyln said, handing me the honey pot. “So they kept you where you were until the most propitious moment, when Laurel Faena crossed your path.”
I blinked at the thought of the elements thinking, and outthinking me. “They can do that?”
“They did with you,” Wyln said.
“What did they do?” Javes asked.
“Earth, wind, fire and water.” Wyln saw Suiden’s frown. “Illusion is of water, Your Highness. It’s the reflecting and bending of light, like the surface of a lake, where you don’t see what lies beneath it—even when you know it’s there.” He looked back at me. “Four aspects,” he said, his face once more smug, his look proprietary.
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