Halfway down the dock Gevan hurried to meet them, bearing a torch. He eyed Tharan, his lips pinched, but turned to Elkan without any other reaction to the assassin’s presence. “Captain Yosiv says we can sail as soon as they’re done.” He jerked his head toward a wagon parked at the end of the dock beside the ship. Several apprentices stood in the bed, tossing sheaves of hay up to sailors on the deck. Gevan frowned at Josiah with almost as much disapproval as he’d shown toward Tharan. “Let’s get you aboard.”
Elkan nodded acknowledgment. Gevan gestured toward the plank bridging the gap between dock and deck.
A triumphant voice called from behind them. “There they are, master!”
Josiah whirled. A tall figure strode down the dock, gold trim around the edges of his cloak glittering in the torchlight, stocky bulldog at his heels. Beside him a shorter figure trotted, blurting breathless accusations. “See! I told you it had to be them. Master Zonon said the hay was for a donkey.” He glared at Josiah as they came to a halt a few feet away. “Let’s see how you like it when your bond is broken.”
Josiah stared at him stupidly. “Mathir? What—”
Master Hanion waved them both silent. He ignored Josiah, instead fixing his attention on Elkan.
“I’m not surprised you disregarded my decision, Elkan,” he said. His eyes went to Tharan, motionless in his glowing bonds. “But I never guessed you’d try to free Dabiel’s murderer.”
“I’m not freeing him, Hanion.” Elkan stood calm, appearing relaxed, but Josiah was close enough to sense the tension in his stance. Josiah’s heart pounded. He edged closer to Elkan. “I’m taking responsibility for him.”
Hanion gave a humorless, incredulous laugh. “You don’t have that authority.”
Elkan nodded at the gold light pouring from his hand to surround Tharan. “The Mother allows me to. Tobi had no difficulty granting my request, nor Sar assisting. I believe it’s her will that Tharan remain alive until we can learn the truth about him. Just as I believe it’s her will that I travel to Ramunna.” He turned his head slightly, his eyes remaining on Hanion. “Josiah, Sar, would you please take Tharan for a moment?”
The thought of expending even more energy sent a lump of dread sinking into the pit of Josiah’s stomach. But he nodded and reached for Sar.
Gevan shouldered between him and Elkan. “Can’t you just turn him over?” he hissed. “I told you, we don’t need him. What matters is that we get out of here before Hanion stops us.”
Elkan shook his head. Sar sent the Mother’s power through Josiah to surround Tharan. “He won’t stop us.” Tobi released her hold on the assassin, transferring full control to Sar. Josiah swallowed a groan as what little strength he’d recovered flowed out of him.
Mathir was speaking to Hanion urgently, too low for Josiah to hear. Hanion shook his head and pointed toward the hay wagon. “You were right to alert me, and I thank you. But you need to get back to the work your master gave you.”
Mathir scowled and stomped toward the wagon. He shot Josiah a bitter look as he passed. Josiah looked away. He’d hoped Mathir would have gotten over his grudge by now. Why should he be mad at Josiah, anyway? His broken bond hadn’t been Josiah’s fault.
Hanion watched with narrowed eyes as his former apprentice climbed onto the wagon and began heaving sheaves of hay. Then he shifted his attention back to Elkan “So you’re defying your Guildmaster because you’ve decided you know the Mother’s will better than anyone else?”
Elkan didn’t falter before his withering glare or the disdain in his tone. He stepped toward Hanion, away from Tobi. He spread his hands in front of him where it would be clear he was making no attempt to touch his familiar. “The Law doesn’t require me to obey you. I respect your position, but every wizard must listen to the Mother’s voice for himself and make his own decisions about how to follow where she leads. It’s not the Guildmaster’s place to interfere with that. You lead us, not control us.”
Hanion snorted. “Would you say the same if it were you wearing this cloak?”
“I would.” Gevan made a muffled sound, but Elkan ignored him. “Now, please. In the Mother’s name, I ask you to let us board that ship.” Elkan looked at Hanion steadily. Josiah held his breath.
Hanion took a firmer stance. He pressed his leg, where the cuff of his breeches was rolled up to expose his ankle, firmly against Mavke’s side. “No.” His hands came up, fingers pointed at Elkan and Josiah.
Josiah cowered back, pressing harder into Sar’s side. He didn’t know if he would be able to expend any additional effort without collapsing, but they had to do something. Sar, you’ve got to stop him, he’s going to attack us. He pictured gold light flooding to surround Hanion.
No.
Simultaneous with the donkey’s voice in his mind, Josiah heard Elkan’s voice in his ears. “Mavke, I seek only to follow the Mother’s will. If you stop me, I won’t resist. I’ll accept that she doesn’t want me to leave. But unless she speaks to you and allows you to oppose me, you know it would be a misuse of her power for one wizard to act against another.”
The bulldog held Elkan’s gaze for a moment. Then he turned to Hanion. He whined, deep in his throat.
Hanion stared at his familiar. “Of course I’d never ask you to misuse the Mother’s power! We’re not going to hurt them. There’s no reason you shouldn’t—”
He broke off, listening to words Josiah couldn’t hear. Josiah clutched Sar’s mane. His legs were starting to shake. But I’ve seen you use the Mother’s power against another wizard. You stopped Mathir—
Mathir was in clear violation of the Law. Hanion isn’t. Whether Mavke can grant Hanion’s request is between him and the Mother.
Hanion dropped to his knees, gazing into Mavke’s eyes, his lips moving silently. Mavke cowered before him, squirming, his tail beating frantically. He whined again, such a miserable sound that Josiah winced in sympathy.
The bulldog sank to a crouch. Slowly he dipped his head, lips peeling back to reveal sharp ivory teeth. His jaws cracked open, and he lowered his mouth to his paw.
Hanion jerked back as if burned. “Stop! I take it back. I’m not asking anymore. You can’t—” He stared at Mavke, fear naked on his face.
Mavke collapsed into a sprawl, closing his eyes. He panted, tongue lolling out, sides heaving. A drop of blood welled from one of the pads on his paw. After a moment, he whimpered, raised eager eyes to Hanion, and licked the blood away.
Hanion stroked Mavke, tentatively at first, then more firmly, almost frantic. The Guildmaster seemed oblivious to anything else. Gevan looked back and forth between Elkan and Hanion, brow furrowed into a deep crease. Josiah leaned on Sar and watched, mouth open.
At length Hanion looked up at them. His voice was gruff. “You’ve proven your point.”
Elkan extended a hand to him. Hanion scowled at it for a moment, then grasped it and allowed Elkan to pull him to his feet.
Elkan gestured for Josiah and Gevan to precede him onto the ship. He kept Hanion’s hand clasped in his. “It would mean a great deal to me to go with the blessing of the Wizards’ Guild.”
Sar started toward the ship, so Josiah had to go along, propelling Tharan ahead. He was too exhausted to do more than shuffle. Sar’s hooves were heavy and clumsy.
Hanion’s voice was weary. “Elkan, please reconsider. I’m begging you. If you go, everything will change. Tevenar will never be the same again. We could lose everything we’ve spent centuries building.”
“It’s too late to stop the change, Hanion. It’s already happening. All we can do is try to follow the Mother’s will and help shape the future according to her design. You heard Kevessa. The time has come for the Mother to return her power to the rest of the world.”
As if summoned by her name, Josiah saw Kevessa appear at the rail of the ship. She was wearing her riding skirt and had Nina snuggled in the crook of her elbow. “Father, what’s taking so long—” She took in Hanion’s presence with big eyes.
&
nbsp; Hanion ignored her. He scowled at Elkan. “They’ve done without for a thousand years. Why should that change now?”
Elkan looked into the distance before answering. “I don’t know why the Mother chose this time. But from what Ambassador Gevan says, Ramunna alone has three times the population of Tevenar, and the rest of Ravanetha dwarfs it. All those people, Hanion, with no access to the Mother’s power. Is it justice for us to have it while they don’t? Is it right for us to keep it for ourselves?”
Gevan stood back when he reached the plank, indicating with a jerk of his head that Josiah should take Tharan across first. Josiah surveyed the narrow strip of wood. His legs were trembling, and his head ached fiercely. Sar’s muzzle drooped so low it almost brushed the dock. The light of the Mother’s power surrounding Tharan had faded to a wan shimmer. Sar, I don’t know if I can hold on.
We have to. Sar’s sides swelled as he took a deep breath. He pushed power through Josiah, propelling Tharan forward.
Josiah was only dimly aware of Hanion and Elkan continuing to speak behind him. “…the way the Mother arranged things. Who are we to question her?”
“I don’t think she minds when we question her, Hanion. I think she wants us to. Dabiel never hesitated to ask—”
On the plank, Tharan threw all his effort into a violent contortion of his body. He lurched sideways, teetering over the dark water below.
Sar sent a surge of power through Josiah. The effort tore a cry from his lips. A wash of light surrounded Tharan, arresting his fall. It flashed bright in Josiah’s eyes just before his vision went dark.
He was certain only a second or two had passed when he came to, slumped over Sar’s back. The donkey was heaving great ragged breaths, his fur sweaty against Josiah’s cheek. A thread of light extended from Josiah’s limp hand to Tharan. So far it had kept him from completing his plunge off the plank, but Josiah couldn’t imagine that lasting much longer.
Elkan’s voice rang hollowly in his ears. “Tobi, come—”
But Kevessa was quicker. She put out her hand, and a bright wave of the Mother’s power enveloped Tharan. Nina perched on her other arm, front paws firmly grounded in Kevessa’s palm, bright eyes focused on Tharan, scolding the assassin in a stream of rasps and chitters.
Josiah nearly sobbed with relief when Sar let their light die. He glimpsed Elkan striding toward Tharan, Tobi bounding at his side. He closed his eyes and sagged against Sar, content to let his master take over. Maybe he could have a couple minutes to recover before he had to move.
“Nina?” The voice wasn’t loud, but it held so much shock and horror that Josiah jerked his head up. He blinked gritty eyes, trying to see.
Mathir scrambled up the high side of the hay wagon and vaulted across the gap onto the ship. He raced along the deck, shoving sailors out of his way. Kevessa whirled to face him.
“Nina, how could you?” Mathir grabbed Kevessa by the shoulders, shaking her violently. “You can’t have her! She’s mine!”
Nina sent a burst of the Mother’s power at him, but it went wide as Kevessa struggled in his grip. She pounded his chest with her fists. “Let go of me!”
Fear rushed through Josiah. Sar! Grab him!
I can’t! You just passed out.
Calm and commanding, Elkan’s voice cut through the commotion. “Mathir, stop. Let her—”
Josiah caught a blur of motion from the corner of his eye. Nina had lost her hold on Tharan. In the instant when everyone’s attention was fixed on Mathir, he’d stepped back to the dock, stooped, and seized the loose plank he’d been standing on. He swung it in a whistling arc and slammed it into the side of Elkan’s head.
Tobi screamed, high and piercing like a woman’s shriek. Elkan collapsed. Tobi leapt at Tharan, snarling. He cowered back, raising the plank, but she broke off her attack and dropped to crouch beside Elkan. She pressed her heavy paw into his limp hand. Golden light washed over him.
Josiah thrust out his hand, but Sar still stubbornly refused to do anything. With a cry of frustration Josiah stumbled toward Tharan.
A wild swing of the plank knocked Mavke away from Hanion, breaking their connection just as golden light bloomed around Hanion’s fingers. The bulldog slid across the dock. He tried to scramble to his feet, but yelped and pulled one hind leg up against his body. He limped toward Hanion, who lunged to meet him.
Gevan waved his torch in Tharan’s face. The assassin fended him off with thrusts of the plank. Gevan tried unsuccessfully to maneuver around Tharan and reach the ship. He shouted at Mathir, who was attempting to wrestle Nina from Kevessa’s arms. Kevessa and Nina were trying to hold him off with the Mother’s power, but seemed to be having trouble coordinating their efforts, because Mathir kept breaking loose and grabbing for them.
The plank slammed into Josiah’s hip, sending him sideways into Hanion. They sprawled to the dock together, pain blazing through Josiah’s side.
Tharan stepped toward them, raising the plank. Josiah tried to roll out of the way, but his leg wouldn’t respond. Over Tharan’s shoulder he glimpsed Gevan, fist raised to strike.
The blow knocked Tharan to his knees. But instead of continuing his attack, Gevan jumped across the gap to the deck of the ship and thrust himself between Kevessa and Mathir.
Tharan struggled up, once again lifting the plank. Josiah cringed, hands coming up reflexively to shield his face. But Tharan’s eyes were fixed on a point to one side. He swung the plank with fierce precision. It caught Mavke and flung him in a low, long arc. The bulldog’s stocky body struck the dock, rolled, and tumbled into the water.
Hanion cried out and scrambled after his familiar. For an instant he knelt on the edge of the dock, reaching down. Then he plunged over the side after Mavke.
Josiah jerked his attention back to Tharan, sure the plank would descend on him next. But Tharan must have considered him out of the fight, for he stood over Elkan, gripping the plank and eyeing Tobi. She snarled at him but remained crouched, maintaining her contact with Elkan. Tharan made a few feints without drawing her away. Gold light enveloped Elkan’s head, but he remained unconscious.
Sar thrust his muzzle in Josiah’s face. Let me see what’s wrong.
Josiah obediently put a hand to the donkey’s nose, but he shook his head as gold light flickered over his hip. Forget that. We’ve got to help Elkan.
I think the bone is cracked. The gold light faded, and Sar lifted his head to survey the scene. His mental tone seethed with the same helpless frustration Josiah felt. We haven’t got enough energy!
I don’t care. Burn me out. Just stop Tharan!
I can’t. One life doesn’t justify a sacrifice.
Aboard the ship, Gevan cried out hoarsely. Mathir ripped the torch from his hand and threw it hard into the wagon, still half full of hay. Flames leaped up.
Tharan jerked around. Josiah held his breath and lay still, afraid Tharan might realize he was still active. The assassin must have judged the fire no threat, because he turned back to Elkan.
Josiah bit his lip. Think. What could he and Sar do with no more than a tiny bit of the Mother’s power to stop Tharan, before he figured out a way to get past Tobi and finish Elkan off? That must be his goal, because otherwise he could have fled. He was still trying to prevent a wizard from going to Ramunna.
Josiah’s stomach dropped and his face went cold as the answer struck him. Sar? How much energy would it take to—to kill him?
Sar considered the question calmly. Slowing his heart would take too much. But there are blood vessels in the brain that are fragile. I think we could break one, even from this far.
Would the Mother let you do that?
His familiar didn’t hesitate. Yes, in this case it’s permitted.
Josiah swallowed. Elkan had wanted to keep Tharan alive. He’d been so opposed to the idea of killing him that he’d defied the Guildmaster and risked the success of their mission. Something had happened to Elkan when he’d presided over the execution of the prisoner in Jianolan
. Josiah thought of the way he’d slumped in his chair afterwards, the look in his eyes when he’d talked about it earlier tonight. Just because we can do something with her power, doesn’t mean we should…
The act itself wouldn’t be Josiah’s, any more than it had been Elkan’s. But the choice would be his. Elkan had hoped he’d never have to face that choice.
He eased up on one elbow, choking back a cry as fire shot through his hip. Tharan and Tobi were still in a stand-off. If they acted quickly, Tobi would be free to give all her attention to healing Elkan.
Sar put his head down within easy reach of Josiah’s hand, but didn’t touch him. He wouldn’t do anything unless Josiah asked.
Josiah hesitated. Elkan wasn’t in immediate danger. Tharan could still give up and flee while the wizards were disabled or distracted. He wouldn’t be able to escape for long, though, not once wizards started tracking him through widows. Maybe he knew that.
Tharan thrust the plank at Tobi, driving it hard into her flank. She leapt at him, teeth flashing. The light around Elkan winked out. Tobi drove Tharan back a few steps, snapping and lunging, but he fended her off with the plank. She broke off and dove for Elkan again. As soon as she touched him light burst into life around his head. Tobi whined and crept closer to Elkan, gazing with intense concentration into his slack face.
Josiah swallowed. All right. Do it. He laid his hand on the soft fur of Sar’s neck. The donkey lifted his head to focus on Tharan.
A commotion of shouts and pounding feet erupted behind Josiah. He and Sar both twisted around. A group of watchers, cloaks dull red in the light of the fire, charged down the dock. They raised their bows and he heard the twang of bowstrings. A flight of arrows ripped over his head. He cringed and his eyes snapped closed. An irregular series of meaty thuds, like the strokes of a butcher’s cleaver, sounded in his ears.
He jerked his eyes open. Tharan lay on his back, arrow shafts protruding from his chest. Josiah stared at him, breathing hard.
Watchers rushed past him. Some of them clustered around Tharan and Elkan. Others surrounded the burning wagon, calling for buckets.
The Law of Isolation Page 46
