Evelyn looked into his eyes.
“Who is the real Red Gloves?”
Evelyn blinked in shock. “How did you—”
“Little things.” Orrin rolled onto his back, pulling Evelyn over so that her head rested on his chest. “But most of all, I can’t see Gloriana cutting Elanore’s throat. I saw that wound. So tell me, who is Red Gloves?”
WHEN they woke, breakfast was brought to their room, along with clothing for Evelyn. A dark blue tunic and trous, with cloak and leather boots. Orrin watched with appreciation as she donned the garments. They made her blue eyes seem even brighter.
They went to Vembar’s chambers, and found him finishing his breakfast by the fire. Evelyn accepted the position of Guardian for the Barony of the Black Hills.
Eyes twinkling, Vembar held up a packet of documents, already drawn up and signed, appointing her to the position.
Evelyn shook her head, and took the documents from him.
Vembar chuckled. “Blackhart, your men are in the rear courtyard. Lady Bethral said something about not letting them wander the halls of the castle.”
“Smart woman,” Orrin said under his breath.
“Marlon should be along soon, to open the portal. I’ll be along with Gloriana to see you off.”
Evelyn led the way to the courtyard. Orrin recognized it once they stepped outside. This was the same courtyard where he’d stood naked in the rain.
His men and their horses were at the far side. They all had idiotic grins on their faces as they spotted Evelyn at his side. He was fairly sure that they’d gotten word of what had happened. As he started over, he noticed that there were far more horses than they’d brought with them.
Orrin looked at Archer with suspicion. “Where did the extra horses come from?”
“That’s a fine way to greet us,” Archer said. “Ya well, Lady?”
“I am.” Evelyn smiled at them all. “And glad to see you all.” She glanced at Sidian. “It looks like your eyebrows are coming back.”
Sidian laughed.
“The horses,” Orrin growled.
“Remounts,” Archer said a little too quickly. “We figured we’d need them for the return trip, what with her coming back with us and all. So we picked up a few.”
“A few?” Orrin looked them over. “It’s a damned herd—with saddles and bridles. Did you buy them?”
Archer’s eyes went wide as he looked at something over Orrin’s shoulder. “Lord of Light, look at that armor.”
Orrin knew full well he was being diverted, but he looked over his shoulder anyway. Another group of men was gathered on the other side of the courtyard—Lady Bethral’s men, no doubt—loading their horses with supplies. One of the horses being led from the stable was a fine, tall mare with the most amazing barding Orrin had ever seen. It matched Lady Bethral’s plate, come to think of it. “It’s called ‘barding,’ not horse armor,” he said absently, admiring the sight. But then he had to smile.
Perched on the saddlebags was a barn cat, one of the ugliest he’d ever seen. The creature sat there as if it owned the castle and all the lands around.
“Ain’t that something. Never seen anything like that,” Archer breathed.
“Wait until you see her owner’s.” Orrin nodded in the direction of the castle.
Lady Bethral stood there in the sun, her plate gleaming. Gloriana had come to bid her warriors farewell, and she was under the watchful eye of her guards as she came across the courtyard toward them.
Gloriana gave Evelyn a warm hug. “All we need now is High Mage Marlon.”
“My father is not known for his promptness.” Evelyn returned the hug.
Bethral had a strange look on her face as she stared at Sidian’s scarring. She tilted her head, then asked a question in a language that Orrin didn’t understand.
Sidian’s eyes widened.
Ezren Silvertongue came through the doors, looking about. “Blackhart”—his cracked voice rang over the courtyard—“about your men and their activities.”
“Uh-oh,” said Reader.
“Told you not to put it on account,” Archer said.
“What did you—” Orrin turned to them, but cut off his words at the sight of Sidian’s face. The black man had gone gray, his eyes wide as he stared at Ezren.
“About these charges.” Ezren came right up to them, a piece of parchment in his hand. “It seems—” Before he could finish, he stopped with a gasp, as if in pain, clutching at his chest. “What—”
Bethral turned to look at him.
Evelyn reached for him. “Ezren, what’s wrong?”
Ezren yanked back his sleeve, revealing a bracelet . . . no . . . the manacle of a spell chain. Orrin recognized it now, but it looked odd, like dry bread crumbling off his wrist. But that meant it had absorbed—
A pop, and High Mage Marlon appeared out of nowhere. “Ready?” he said. “I can’t be all day—”
White-hot flames surged around Ezren, exploding with power.
THIRTY-NINE
ORRIN reacted first, pulling Evelyn away from Ezren.
Ezren pressed his hands over his heart, the piece of paper falling from his hands. He stumbled back as the manacles crumbled away. With a cry he collapsed in the center of the courtyard, barely able to keep his head up. “No, no, no . . . ” he rasped.
With a roar, more light surged up from his chest, a huge column of light and fire that started to spin. A wave of heat and force washed over the courtyard, knocking everyone off their feet, and sending the horses into fits.
Orrin scrambled over the cobblestones, reached for Evelyn, and covered her body with his own. He blinked hard, trying to see, but there was a roaring wind buffeting his head.
The power had begun to turn, spiraling in on itself with a sound like a thousand running horses. The stones beneath them vibrated with its fury.
Orrin looked behind him. The horses had fled to the farthest corner of the yard, milling in the corner, neighing in terror. His men were all pressed to the cobblestones, with Mage the closest.
“Rogue,” Marlon bellowed. He was on the ground. Bethral had Gloriana stuffed between herself and Marlon. Arent and Vembar were beyond them, curled around each other. Marlon was looking at Evelyn.
Evelyn had turned her head, and Orrin could feel her nod of agreement to her father.
Ezren had rolled to his side, and Orrin saw a flash of his green eyes. White-hot power flared about his body, and the sound grew louder. The power lashed out, hitting the area around him. His eyes closed, and he started convulsing.
Orrin leaned into Evelyn, and spoke in her ear. “What can we do?” he shouted over the noise.
“Nothing,” she shouted back. “It’s the wild magic. We can’t control it, can’t channel it—”
The flares were brighter now, painful to the eyes. Mage crawled up beside them, his eyes wide with fear. “I could try to drain . . .”
“No.” Evelyn shook her head. “Father is going to have to—”
Orrin lifted his head, and realized that Marlon was going to kill Ezren. He was staring at Ezren, reaching out as if to—
Bethral raised up on her knees, reached over, and jerked Marlon’s arm to the side. “No!”
Marlon didn’t struggle. He just turned look up at her. “He’ll kill us all.”
Bethral caught Evelyn’s gaze, her eyes wide and desperate. “Open a portal,” she screamed. “As far distant as you can.”
The wind whipped at their hair and clothes, and the fury of the power grew.
Evelyn’s head came up, and Orrin eased back so that she could move. “You’ll be killed,” Evelyn cried out.
Orrin sucked in a breath as Bethral’s face grew calm and determined. “As far, as remote as you can,” Bethral yelled. She released Marlon’s hand, and looked at the white-hot flares where Ezren lay sprawled on the ground, her face etched with pain. “Where he’ll not kill anyone else.”
Marlon nodded to Evelyn.
Gloriana lifted
her head. “Bethral, no, no. Don’t leave me!”
Bethral ignored her and rose to her feet, fighting the winds. Marlon reached out and wrapped his arms around Gloriana, keeping her down. He was talking, but she was protesting, struggling against him.
Evelyn reached her hand out to Mage, and they both turned to face the fury rising around Ezren.
Orrin knew that Evelyn was still drained from their battle with Elanore; Mage was going to lend her his strength. He looked around at his men as he crawled forward to try to protect Evelyn and Mage. “Everyone stay down.”
Just in time. The power lashed out, striking cobblestones with white shards of lightning, as if the magic sensed a threat.
A portal appeared behind the fury, its soft curtains a contrast to the chaos around them. It wavered, then solidified. Mage and Evelyn’s hands were locked tight together, knuckles white.
Bethral fought her way forward through the waves of raging power around Ezren. The flares danced around her, striking her again and again. She took the blows, staggering as she lifted the unconscious man into her arms, heaving him over her shoulder.
The winds grew wilder still, their roaring almost a scream in Orrin’s ears. His eyes watered as he watched Bethral try to walk into the portal. She had her head down, her feet braced, but when she tried to step forward, she staggered, almost falling.
Orrin looked away to clear his eyes, then looked back.
Her horse was there.
The roan mare was by her mistress, standing firm. Her mane and tail were caught with the wind, whipping around. The cat was on all fours, claws hooked in the saddlebags, every inch of fur standing on end, mouth open in what had to be a hiss of defiance.
Orrin could have sworn that Bethral leaped into the saddle with Ezren, so fast did she mount. One minute on the ground, the next in the saddle with Ezren before her.
The light, the wild magic surged around them. Ezren’s entire body convulsed in Bethral’s arms, and she struggled to keep her hold. Orrin saw her lean forward, crying out something and digging her heels into the horse, urging her forward.
The horse gathered her hind legs, and started to obey.
The raging fury lashed out, striking both at the portal and at Evelyn and Mage. A thick strand of impossibly bright white whipped out. Orrin saw it coming, and pulled himself up and over their heads, trying to—
Sidian stepped in front of them.
The big black man was naked from the waist up. He stood, arms wide, shouting something that Orrin didn’t understand.
The white strand struck his chest at the same moment it hit the portal.
The force threw Sidian off his feet. Like a cloth doll, he was hurled over them, and slammed to the ground.
The portal exploded as Bethral, Ezren, and the horse disappeared. Blinded, Orrin froze as a hot, biting wind blew over his face, bearing the impression of open skies and the scent of endless grasslands.
Then silence.
The blindness passed. They were all left blinking, staring at the courtyard.
Empty.
“What was that?” Mage asked in a hushed voice. “What just happened here?”
“Where did they go?” Gloriana asked, her face streaked with tears. Marlon helped her to her feet.
“I don’t know,” Evelyn said. She sounded exhausted. Orrin helped her stand. “I focused on the shrine I was exiled to, the one in Farentell, but it shifted. I don’t know where they ended up, if anywhere at all.” She looked at her father. “They might be dead.”
“Wild magic and a portal.” Marlon shook his head. “They are surely dead. Wild magic is lethal when built to those levels.”
Archer and Reader were pulling Sidian to his feet. He came up with a grunt, his chest unharmed and unmarked. “I do not think they are dead,” he said.
“And how would you know?” Marlon looked at him with scorn. “Are you a mage?”
“No.” Sidian shook his head. “I am a warrior-priest of the Plains.”
FORTY
“THE Plains,” Evelyn repeated, tired and drained and feeling stupid. The words didn’t seem to make any sense. Thankfully, everyone around her had the same stunned expression on their faces.
“Yes,” Sidian replied, “one of many sent to wander the world, searching for that which was lost.”
“What was lost?” Mage asked.
“That which is now found,” Sidian said, his face etched with worry. “Or so I believe. I must now return to the Plains, to bring word of this. But the way is a long one, and who knows what will have happened before I can reach the Heart.”
Evelyn frowned, confused. She was full of questions, but a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She swayed, and Orrin’s arm wrapped around her waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder, grateful for the support.
“I thought people on the Plains had weird names,” Reader said.
They all looked at him. “And yours is so normal?” Archer asked.
“Obsidian Blade,” Sidian said. “That is my full name.”
Orrin frowned. “There is no route to the Plains through the mountains. At least, not from the Black Hills.”
“Yes, there is.” Sidian’s confidence was clear. “Not much more than a gurtle path, but a path nonetheless. I will show you, if you will come.”
“I will,” Mage piped up.
Orrin glanced at Evelyn. “We shall see.”
“They’re gone?” Gloriana asked, as she stood. Her cheek was smudged with dirt, and her eyes looked lost. “Can’t we try to find them?”
“No,” Evelyn said. “The wild magic ripped the portal away. I have no idea where they are.”
“What will I do without them?” The confident Queen was gone. Evelyn again saw the uncertain child standing before her.
“Aunt Evie, do you have to go?” Gloriana asked. “I’ve lost Bethral and Ezren, and I—”
Evelyn found the strength to reach out and hug her. “We can’t stay, Gloriana. It would cause you more problems than it would be worth. I can come back for quick visits, but not much more.”
“We are still here, child.” Two of the guardsmen were helping Vembar and Arent to their feet. “Arent and I won’t leave you.”
Gloriana ran over to them, and wrapped Vembar in a hug. He staggered a bit, but held on just as tight.
“Do you still want to send this force after the bandits?” Marlon nodded at the warriors milling about.
“Bandits?” Archer asked, raising an eyebrow.
“About twenty men, raiding along the road?” Reader inquired.
“Yes.” Gloriana raised her head. “They are causing problems on the main road between here and Radaback’s Rill.”
“No worries there, Your Ladyship,” Reader said.
“Your Majesty,” Marlon corrected.
“Your Majesty.” Reader gave a quick nod of his head. “We had a bit of time on our hands, you see.”
“And they took homage to us, being from the Black Hills and all,” Archer said.
“Umbrage,” Evelyn murmured.
“Well, Mage here had to open his mouth and—”
“Your Majesty”—one of the guards approached—“Lady Bethral—is she—”
Gloriana drew a breath, stepped back from Vembar, and straightened her shoulders. “Tell the men to stand down, Hakes. We need to deal with her absence before we do anything else. It might be awhile before she can return.” She gave Evelyn a nod, then turned to go.
“If ever,” Marlon said as Gloriana crossed the courtyard with Vembar, Arent, and her guards.
“I wish I could help her,” Evelyn said. “She’s so alone.”
Marlon snorted. “You can’t, daughter.” He turned and glared at Mage. “You, what is your name?”
Mage froze. “Lord High Mage, I’m . . .”
“Come, lad,” Marlon huffed impatiently, “you’ve a pardon. What is your name?”
“Rhys, sir.” Mage straightened his shoulders. “Rhys of the Black Hills.”
; “Rhys, eh?” Marlon said. “You’d be welcome to the Guild for extra training, if you wish. Although I suspect you could teach us a thing or two as well. Think on it.” Marlon turned back to Evelyn. “Let’s open a portal and get you and these men out of here before the entire place comes down, shall we? The question is—where? I can send you to the Keep, but—”
Evelyn shuddered. “Please, no, Father.” She leaned her head on Orrin’s shoulder.
“Understandable,” Marlon said. “What about . . . there is a town I remember, with an inn. Have you ever heard of the Great Bed of Wareington?”
ARCHER was the first one through the portal, leading a string of horses. It opened up in the Wareington town square, just as the old mage had said it would. Men were coming at a run, weapons in hand, but they relaxed when they recognized him.
“Hey, take these horses, and there’s more coming,” Archer said. He handed off the lead horse, then grabbed a horn from one of the watch. He sounded it once, a long, clear call.
Mage came through, leading a few more horses.
People were coming at a run now, and windows were being opened in every house. Archer looked up in pleasure at the sight. “Gather around, call everyone together. Blackhart’s got our pardons—”
More people came running, and Archer couldn’t help but grin at their stunned faces. “He’s got our pardons—”
Dorne and Bella popped out of the inn’s doors. “What’s that?” Dorne demanded.
Sidian came through the portal, leading another group of horses. Archer had to yell to be heard. “Blackhart’s got our pardons, and he’s got his lady—”
Cheers rose as others gathered. These horses were led off as well, as soon as they emerged. People were leaning out the windows, hanging on every word.
“He’s got his lady, and the Queen has named her our Baroness!” Archer yelled, and though it wasn’t quite true, damned if he was gonna explain the whole Guardian thing. That was Blackhart’s problem. Never let truth get in the way of a really good gossip.
Another round of cheers filled the air as Reader came through, his string of horses rearing at the noise. It took some effort to get them all headed in the right direction, but everyone reached out to calm them and get them out of the square.
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