The Vengekeep Prophecies

by Brian Farrey

  Talian wrapped his arms around his chest and hugged himself. “Well. Strictly speaking, the Palatinate did try to put an end to it.”

  “How?” Callie demanded.

  Talian pointed to his own chest. “They sent me. I finished the Trials and they said, ‘By the way, some sort of magic is attacking Vengekeep. Go look into that, would you?’ Gave me a mang and sent me on my way.”

  The three of us sat there silently. Callie stared hard at the floor, her fists tightening. I knew she didn’t want to ask the next logical question, so I made it easy on her and asked myself.

  “So what happened?” I whispered.

  Again, Talian offered his haunted grin. “I was halfway to Vengekeep, thinking of everything I’d heard about the terrible things happening there, and I said to myself, ‘What are you doing?’ The Palatinate wasn’t even willing to send a more accomplished mage with me to investigate. If they didn’t care what was happening in Vengekeep, why should I?”

  Callie clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.

  Talian leaned back. “So I came to Cindervale instead. Got myself a job working at the docks, repairing boats. Things were going pretty well until the Palatinate figured out I’d abandoned my duty. They covered the Provinces in wanted posters. Somebody recognized me and the constable showed up at my door. Right now, a messenger is on her way to report me. Within minutes of delivering her message, the Lordcourt will retrieve me and then I’ll be facing Palatinate justice.”

  Before I could stop her, Callie lashed out, swiping her hand across her cousin’s face. Talian yowled, his hand covering the bloody streaks Callie’s nails had left behind.

  “You traitor!” she screamed. “You coward! I looked up to you. I was proud when you were selected to be the town mage’s apprentice. Everyone in Vengekeep was praying you’d come back and sort this mess out and instead you abandoned us!”

  Callie turned and ran to the opposite corner of the cell, sobbing quietly to herself. I put a gentle hand on her shoulder as Talian, stunned by the violent attack, wiped his face clean.

  “You’re a mage,” I said quietly. “What do you know about fateskein?”

  Talian looked at me curiously. “What?”

  “Are you powerful enough to counteract the effects of fateskein?” I asked harshly as Callie continued to sob.

  “You shouldn’t be messing with—”

  “Just answer his question!” Callie said, her back still to her cousin.

  Talian shook his head. “It would take several mages working for days to counteract anything that fateskein set into motion. Why are you—?” He stopped. Realization spread across his face. “Of course! Fateskein. That explains everything about Vengekeep. I can’t believe no one at the Palatinate came up with that! But how did it happen?”

  For the second time that day, I reluctantly relayed the story of the tapestry, my plan to create the solvent, and everything that Callie and I had been through since escaping from Vengekeep. Talian nodded as I spoke, stroking the stubble on his cleft chin.

  “Brilliant plan, Jaxter,” he muttered, admiration coloring his voice. “I don’t think anyone in the Palatinate could have come up with something like that. A nonmagical remedy. Bangers!”

  By now, Callie had stopped crying. She turned back and glared at her cousin. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. If anyone finds out, Jaxter’s parents will be—”

  “I know the punishment for using fateskein,” he said gently. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. And if you succeed with what you’re planning, you won’t have to tell anyone either. The tapestry can be destroyed, Vengekeep will be saved, and no one will be any wiser.”

  “There’s just one problem,” I noted, pointing to the bars. “We might be headed home sooner than we thought.”

  Talian shook his head glumly. “I wouldn’t worry about that. The people of Cindervale are terribly superstitious. If they think you’re cursed, they won’t go through the trouble of shipping you back to Vengekeep. They’ll want to make sure you don’t spread the curse. The constable’s probably having a magistrate sign the execution order right now.”

  Callie looked horrified. A small part of me got excited, thinking I would add another execution order to our family collection.

  “Even if we could get out of here,” Callie said, “we still need the last ingredient for the solvent.”

  Talian closed his eyes and laughed. “Spiderbat milk. Again, Jaxter, you are a genius.”

  Callie seethed. “If you want to be useful, maybe you could suggest how we might get out of this.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I don’t suppose they let you keep your spellbook when they locked you up in here.”

  At this, Talian raised his eyebrows rakishly. He gave a quick glance around to make sure no guards were about. Then he said quietly, “If you get out of here, you’re going to find the spiderbat milk and save Vengekeep, right?”

  Callie and I nodded. Talian yanked at the hem of his tunic until it tore and an iron ball the size of marble fell out, clicking as it hit the stone floor. He picked it up and held it in the palm of his hand.

  “It’s a spellsphere,” he said. He uttered something in a language I didn’t understand. A small fire lit up within the steel, causing the entire ball to burn with a hot, white-blue light. Callie leaned forward, her pupils shrinking as she stared into the heart of the light. But I noticed that when Talian stared into it, his pupils grew larger, obscuring the green of his eyes.

  “I don’t see anything,” Callie muttered.

  “You don’t see anything,” Talian said, “but I see all the spells I’ve learned since my first day as an apprentice, whirling around in there. Only old-fashioned mages keep spellbooks anymore. Today, most mages use a spellsphere to hold the sum of their magical knowledge. I sewed it up in my tunic when I first came to town. I knew if I used it, the Palatinate Sentinels would be able to track me down. Well, they’re about to find out where I am, so using it can’t hurt anymore.”

  The Sentinels were elite mages, trained to find rogue mages and illegal magic use. Everything I’d heard suggested these were mages we didn’t want to find us. Talian stared deeply into the glowing ball, his lips moving. I didn’t want to interrupt his concentration, but I had to ask.

  “Talian,” I said, “it’s great that you’re going to help us get out, but what are you going to do?”

  His eyes remained fixed on the scorching light, and for a moment I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. Then he said, “I’ll face the Palatinate. Don’t have much choice.”

  I took a deep breath. “No. Come with us.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped and even Talian looked away from the sphere.

  “Jaxter—” Callie cautioned.

  “Listen,” I said, “he can go with Edilman. They can both sail off on the boat and leave the Five Provinces. I agree. He’s a coward.” Talian blanched at this. “But if he can get us out of here, the least we can do is send him off with Edilman. He may have left Vengekeep to rot, but I’ve heard stories about ‘Palatinate justice.’ It’s horrible. We can’t leave him to face that.”

  Callie bit her lip, then gave a single nod. I asked Talian, “Will you come?”

  Talian flushed but agreed. “It could be dangerous for you,” he warned. “The Sentinels have been waiting for me to cast a spell since I went rogue. As soon as I do, it won’t take them long to trace the magic here. If they catch you helping me …”

  “We’ll stay hidden,” I promised.

  Talian stared into the sphere, looking for the right spell. When he found it, he cried out.

  He pointed to the wall at our backs. “Behind this wall is an alley. I’m going to remove part of the wall, we’ll go through, and we’ll find your friend.”

  I remembered how I’d managed to get through the wall at the Dowager’s estate. “It won’t be, you know, loud, right? Something to attract the guards?”

  He shook his head. “Completely silent. We’ll slip away
unnoticed. Ready?”

  Callie and I prepared to run as soon as the hole appeared. Talian held the sphere out at arm’s length and hissed in that unfamiliar language. The sphere pulsed, sending a cone of bluish light into the wall. The bricks shimmered, and when the light from the sphere vanished, a perfectly round hole had punctured the wall.

  But Talian had been wrong. Behind that wall wasn’t an alley. It was the chief constable’s office. And we stood there, looking blankly at the constable and his officers as they stared in amazement at us, no one moving.

  “Always had a lousy sense of direction,” Talian muttered.

  20

  Double Cross

  “The unknown thief revels in her cash. The known thief basks in her cunning. Only one will buy food.”

  —Lyama Grimjinx, Master Thief of Jarron Province

  Talian gathered his wits first. As he hissed another command, the cone of light shot from the sphere again, replacing the missing section of wall. Whirling around, Talian barked another magical command. This time, a torrent of green lightning shot from the sphere, melting the bars and tearing down the wall beyond. The hole led to a street full of confused citizens, who quickly gathered around.

  Callie grabbed my arm as we ran out with Talian leading the way. “We do like our spectacular exits, don’t we?” she said. Ducking into the assembled crowd, we could hear the constabulary mobilizing behind us. We kept our heads low as we dove down a side street.

  “We need to go to the Wily Leathersmith,” I told Talian, who guided us on a zigzag path through the village streets. The mage nodded and took a sharp right. Callie and I kept an eye behind us, searching for signs of pursuit.

  The chaos was behind us, but Cindervale was small. It wouldn’t take long for the constable and his deputies to track us down. Talian led us up a side street that intersected with the inn. We slipped around to the back and darted through the rear entrance. The par-Goblin innkeeper was spit-cleaning his countertop as we came in.

  “Excuse me,” I said breathlessly, “did our friend show up for the third room yet?”

  The innkeeper paused to think. “Skinny guy? Yonick accent?”

  I nodded. “That’s him.”

  The innkeeper pointed upstairs. “Came a while ago.”

  I thanked him and the three of us darted upstairs. Callie and I each went into our rooms to grab our things as Talian stood near a window, watching for signs of the approaching law. I threw my pack over my shoulder, feeling naked without my belt and pouches, now forever in possession of the Cindervale constable. I was just about ready when I heard Callie cry out. Talian and I met her in the hall outside her room.

  “My pack!” she said, pointing to the room. “It’s gone!”

  I peered inside her room. The entire place had been ransacked; bed overturned, sheets askew.

  “I hid it in the closet and now …,” she said.

  “Zoc!” I cursed and pounded on Edilman’s door. “Edilman? We’ve got trouble. The ingredients are gone.” When he didn’t respond, I opened the door. The room was immaculate, with no sign of his gear anywhere.

  “Callie,” Talian yelled, pointing out the window. “Village guards!”

  The innkeeper had said Edilman was here. So where …? A dark thought formed in my mind. I understood what had happened. Sadly, we didn’t have time to do anything about it. “Come on,” I ordered them. We bounded down the stairs to find the innkeeper also eyeing the approaching guards out his window.

  I took a chance. “Klaeva surrin ta noda?”

  The par-Goblin frowned and I worried that my accent was really bad. But, as I suspected, he understood my plea for assistance in escaping unseen—which meant he was a fellow thief.

  The innkeeper scurried across the room and bolted the door shut. He nodded toward a rack displaying ancient halberds on the wall. “There,” he grunted. “Down the stairs, through the tunnel. Go.”

  I pushed against the rack and found a secret door beyond. As the village guards began pounding on the inn’s door, I ushered Callie and Talian into the dark compartment beyond, sliding the rack closed behind us. Talian spoke and his spellsphere started to glow, lighting our path. We took the creaky stairs down to a musty, hand-dug tunnel, reminding me instantly of our initial escape from Vengekeep. At top speed, we ran down the tunnel, unsure if the guards would find us.

  The tunnel was a straight shot under the village, and, as the innkeeper had promised, ended in another hidden door near the city docks on the River Honnu. Once outside, Talian led the way.

  “Come with me,” he said, and we followed closely, trying our best not to look conspicuous. Talian led us up the gangplank of a small sailing ship. Once on board, he looked around and then took us belowdecks, where we hid among burlap bags that smelled of burr oats.

  “In about an hour,” Talian whispered, “this ship will sail north into Yonick Province and dock near Merriton.”

  “How do you know?” Callie asked.

  “I’ve worked on these docks for weeks. I know that this ship goes there every day.” He looked to me. “Didn’t you say you needed to get to the aircaves?”

  I nodded, but Callie continued to fume.

  “We can’t go too far,” Callie cautioned. “We have to find Edilman—”

  “We’re not going to find Edilman,” I said quietly. “He’s the one who turned us in.”

  Callie stared at me, slack-jawed. I thought back to the innkeeper, telling us he’d seen Edilman and I remembered how Edilman’s room had been untouched. He’d never gone in there. He’d gone into Callie’s room instead.

  I nodded. “I keep thinking about something Edilman said. Only a pardon from the High Laird can reverse his death sentence.”

  Callie and Talian looked at me, brows furrowed in frustration, and I had to come clean.

  “I told him everything, Callie,” I said. “About the tapestry, how we were going to use the plants for the solvent.”

  Callie stiffened. “He’s going to try to make the solvent himself and save Vengekeep. He wants to earn the High Laird’s favor and get his death sentence removed.”

  “And he couldn’t let us take the credit,” I added. “So he tipped off the constabulary that two refugees from Vengekeep were roaming the town. With us out of the way, he walked into the inn and—”

  Callie’s balled-up fists slammed into the wall. “But he has no idea what he’s doing! He’ll waste all the ingredients. And he doesn’t even have the spiderbat’s milk!”

  I nodded, glad I’d never revealed the secret to the last, vital ingredient. “And that’s how we’re going to beat him at his own game.”

  I took out the map of the Five Provinces and pointed out our position. “Listen, once we dock, we’re less than half a day’s journey to the aircaves. All we have to do is head north, obtain the milk, and come back. He’s only got a day’s head start. We just have to find a way to return to Vengekeep ahead of him. We surprise him and steal back the satchel with the ingredients. Then, well, we deal with the tapestry.”

  Callie’s lip curled with skepticism. “‘All we have to do is get the milk?’” she said. “That’s always been the hardest part of this entire plan. It could take forever. Let’s face it. We’re finished.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. It all sounded simple, but it wouldn’t be quick and easy. By the time we devised a plan to get the milk, Edilman could go to Vengekeep and waste the ingredients, trying to make the solvent himself. Without the ingredients, Vengekeep was doomed. For the first time since we started this trip, I believed we were finally defeated.

  “Actually,” Talian whispered, laying his finger on the aircaves as represented on the map, “I might be able to help you out there.”

  PART THREE

  THE PROPHECY

  21

  The Aircaves

  “An alibi is worth its weight in copperbits, but a bag of silvernibs makes it worthless.”

  —The Lymmaris Creed

  The aircaves
were all that remained of a massive volcano that exploded thousands of years ago. The area where the mountain once stood was flat, made of smooth, glasslike obsidian. The aircaves got their name from the torrents of hot air rushing through the caves that had once fed magma to the volcano. Many people would visit the mouth of the caves just to see the beauty of the flawless obsidian cascades. But we were going one step farther: into the caves themselves.

  Talian and I sat on a bubblelike rock near the entrance, a downward-sloping hole in the ground. We’d spent most of the ride on the ship talking over how to make the solvent. His mage training had given him a wide understanding of several plants, and, together, we crafted what we thought was the perfect formula. All that remained was to get the last ingredient, retrieve Callie’s pack from Edilman, and destroy the tapestry.

  Easy.

  Ha.

  Talian and I drank heavily from my water-filled flagon as Callie sat nearby, holding her stomach and looking very, very ill. Her face had gone a bit green and she tried very hard not to let her teeth chatter. I offered her water, but she shook her head.

  “Are you going to be okay to do this?” I asked, afraid of what might come out if she opened her mouth.

  She fixed me with a murderous glare. “Jaxter, here’s something you should know about me. I don’t like spiders. I don’t like bats. Now … guess how I feel about spiderbats!”

  I looked at Talian, who simply grinned, and I said to Callie, “You knew we’d eventually come here.”

  She tossed up her arms. “Yes, but I’ve been hoping that when we arrived, you’d take care of this part.” She pivoted to stare at her cousin. “I didn’t realize that I’d be important to the plan.”

  Talian shrugged, setting his water aside. “The spiderbats live in a matriarchy. They’ll respond better to a female.”

  In what little I’d read about spiderbats, none of the books mentioned one very important fact: spiderbats were intelligent. Thankfully, in addition to studying botany, apprentice mages spent years of intense study on magic-resistant creatures, and Talian knew a lot about how to interact with spiderbats. Although, when Callie wasn’t listening, he’d quietly admitted to me that everything he knew was theory; he’d never had the chance to try any of it. We decided that Callie was better off not knowing that part.