by R. T. Kaelin
“The Yaubno Mountains. Near Glasshollow in central Cartu.”
“What is its significance?”
Tobias pictured the primary resident of the cabin stepping from its door, an aicenai, but one with a longer face than Khin and darker eyes.
“Ah,” murmured Khin. “Larin Lathruna.”
Tobias was mildly surprised.
“You recognize her?”
“I do,” said Khin. “How long has it been since you were there?”
Seeing no harm in answering the question, Tobias said, “Close to a century.”
“I see,” said Khin. “And how did you find her?”
“I was not looking for her if that is your question,” said Tobias. “I was looking for the cabin.”
Tilting his head slightly, Khin said, “The cabin?”
“For two straight turns, I had the same vision over and over again. Me, marching up that mountainside, through the trees, and to that cabin. Each time, it would end before I ever got to see what—or who—was inside. After perhaps the twelfth time, I set off to find it. It took me years, but I succeeded. And once I did, I stayed a while.”
“Why?”
Tobias shrugged.
“Larin was in hiding, I did not want to be found, and we got along. It was a good arrangement.”
“How long did you stay? What sorts of things did you discuss during your time there?”
Noticing that the aicenai’s eyes were particularly intense again, Tobias quickly reinforced the image of the beeswax candle. Glaring at Khin, he said pointedly, “Stop it. Now. I refuse to let you watch my thoughts.”
“I do not observe unless there is ample reason.”
“I don’t care what your reasons are,” said Tobias. “My thoughts are my thoughts.” He paused and, with a certain significance behind his words, added, “Swear an oath, Khin. Swear that you will stay out of my head. I want your word. As an aicenai.”
A tiny frown creased Khin’s lips.
“Such an oath is not given lightly.”
“Swear, Khin. Or I’m leaving and you can be left wondering why I ever came.”
Khin’s face remained blank as he said, “Larin shared much about my kind, it seems.”
Tobias nodded once.
“That she did.”
Tobias suspected that he knew more about aicenai than perhaps any living soul not of the ancient race. He was exploiting some of that knowledge now. Honoring a promise made was the pinnacle of an aicenai’s moral code. Their word was as strong as the Sea of Kings was deep.
After a long, drawn-out silence, Khin said, “You have my promise.”
Tobias let the flickering candle fade from his mind.
“Thank you.”
Khin inclined his head and said, “In exchange, I ask that you do not share your knowledge of that which I am capable with anyone.”
“Broedi knows, yes?”
“He alone,” acknowledged Khin. “It took him twenty years, but he reasoned out my skill. I hold a promise for him as well.”
“Yet he told no one?”
“He values the…insight I provide.”
A wry chuckle slipped from Tobias.
“That’s Broedi. Always wanting to know what others are thinking yet keeping his own thoughts buried beneath five feet of stone.”
“Why are you here?” asked Khin, clasping his bony hands before him. “Something about my student, yes?”
Glancing around the room, Tobias nodded in the direction of the table and chairs.
“Mind if we sit down? My leg gets stiff if I stand too long in the cold.”
Khin extended an arm toward the chairs.
“Please.”
Tobias shuffled to the table, hoisted himself into one of the chairs, and rested his walking stick against the wall. As Khin moved to the other chair and sat opposite him, Tobias asked, “You knew Eliza and Aryn, did you not?”
Khin inclined his head.
“I was here at the enclave while they were, yes.”
“Did you know them well?”
Khin shook his head slightly.
“What is the point of your question?”
Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, Tobias said, “Whenever Eliza would get it in her mind to do something, something that even the most foolish of all fools would find outlandish, she would get this glint in her eye. It took me years, but I eventually learned that once you saw that, you stopped arguing. You might as well yell at a stone to fly like a hawk.”
“I know of what you speak.”
Tobias folded his hands, squeezed them tight, and murmured, “I just saw that glint again, Khin." He frowned. “It took two hundred years, but I saw it again.”
Chapter 28: Decision
19th of the Turn of Luraana, 4999
Zecus huddled beneath three layers of clothes, shrouded in the shadows of the southwestern wall, a worried frown on his lips. He stood rigid, gripping Simiah’s reins in his hand, Boah to his left, his father on his right, the trio of men anxiously staring at the moonlit courtyard. Simiah huffed, sending a misty breath into the night. Zecus reached up and scratched his horse’s neck.
Boah whispered, “Are we sure this is wise?”
“You have asked that question a dozen times,” murmured Joshmuel.
“And you have yet to give me an answer.”
Joshmuel was quiet for a moment before saying, “Be quiet, Boah. Else you will be walking the entire way home.” The words were firm, but kind.
Boah hesitated before giving a short grunt in response.
Swiveling his head to his right, Zecus locked eyes with his father. Even in the dim light of the wall’s shadow, Zecus could clearly see the worry lining his father’s face. Apparently, he shared Boah’s reservation. Zecus sighed and stared back to the empty courtyard. That made three of them.
Boah cleared his throat. A few moments later, he coughed again, louder and more insistent this time.
Sighing, his father grudgingly asked, “What is it, Boah?”
“Oh, may I speak now?”
“Will you ask if this is wise again?”
Zecus smothered a smile.
After a short pause, Boah said, “No.”
“Then speak,” murmured Joshmuel. “But try to do so quietly, please.”
“Well,” whispered Boah. “I was wondering if either of you had yet to come up with a plausible tale to tell the guards?”
Zecus stared at the open northwestern gate, knowing three men stood outside the keep’s entrance.
“We’re going for an early hunt in the forest?”
Boah murmured incredulously, “Who in the Nine Hells goes hunting at this time of night? In this blasted cold? Easterners are odd, yes, but they are not mad.”
Zecus remained quiet. He did not have answers.
Joshmuel said, “Perhaps they will not ask questions.”
Boah grunted, “And if they—” The Borderlander cut off as a horse’s low nicker drifted through the courtyard.
Zecus whipped his head around and stared out into the moonlit yard. There was nothing but gravel, stacks of firewood, and benches.
Boah muttered uneasily, “Uh…did anyone else just hear another horse?”
Before either father or son could answer, Zecus heard the crunching of horses’ hooves on gravel paired with a quiet chuckling. The sounds seemed as if they were only a dozen feet away, yet Zecus still saw nothing.
Suddenly, a gentle shimmer rippled through the air, like heat rising from the ground on a hot Borderlands day. Within a single breath, four horses and two riders appeared before them. The tomble White Lion sat on Nundle’s chestnut, a dark cloak draped over his shoulders—hood flipped back—and his walking stick laying across his lap. Kenders was atop her black and gray horse, Smoke, wearing a pair of tough-spun riding pants and a matching overcoat, her hair pulled back into a single, tight bunch. Their horses—along with the two behind them—were laden with packs and saddlebags.
Zecus’
eyes narrowed as he reasoned what Kenders was planning. She had fixed her gaze on him, her eyes hopeful and hard at the same time. She appeared on the verge of saying something, but after a beat, pressed her lips together.
Boah marveled, “Nine Hells, that is an excellent trick.”
Tobias grinned as he replied, “It is, isn’t it?” He motioned to the empty air around them. “I have extended the Weave around all of us now. To anyone outside it, this particular part of the courtyard will appear quite empty. Be careful, though. This particular Weave does nothing to sound. Keep your voices low.”
Zecus barely heard a word the tomble said. He was too busy glowering at Kenders.
Joshmuel took a cautious step towards Tobias and Kenders.
“It would appear you mean to come with us.”
Tobias turned to stare at Kenders, waved a hand, and said, “This is your show, dear.”
Kenders finally pulled her gaze from Zecus and shifted it to Joshmuel.
“Yes, we will be joining you. For a time, at least.”
Zecus ground his teeth. This was foolish.
Joshmuel said carefully, “I am surprised the Manes are letting you go. What say the baroness about this?”
Kenders frowned.
“Nothing. I did not tell her."
Zecus could not believe what he was hearing.
“You are sneaking away?”
She met his gaze but did not answer him.
After a long moment of quiet, Joshmuel asked, “Are you sure that is wise?”
Kenders said firmly, “It is what I’m doing.”
Zecus took a quick step forward, protesting in a hushed tone, “You are needed here!” He shifted his gaze to Tobias. “Both of you!” Shaking his head, he asked, “Why are you even here?”
“Because she asked me to come,” said Tobias.
“And you agreed? How could you permit her to do this?”
“Permit me?” said Kenders, her voice hushed yet firm. “I asked Tobias for his help, not his permission. This decision is mine to make.”
“And it is a foolish one! Have you thought this through?”
With a firm nod, Kenders said, “I left a note for Jak explaining my actions. I gave Sabine my mother’s necklace should the Manes need to check on me—or Nikalys. Tobias can bring me back here in an instant if necessary. And he can teach me about the Strands as we go.”
Zecus gaped at the little brown-haired tomble.
“And you believe this is a good idea?”
Tobias shook his head.
“Gods, no. I think it’s short-sighted and selfish. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was going one way or the other. I could agree to come, or let her go on her own. This arrangement is the sweetest of the sour.”
Kenders insisted, “We will only stay with you a few weeks. Four at the most. If we have not found your families by then, we will leave you to search on your own.” The resolve etched on her face softened. “You are all here because of me, because of what is happening. Let me help you find your families. Please.”
Zecus hissed, “This is not your fault! The Gods are driving this! Not you!”
Joshmuel said in a soft, warning tone, “Zecus…”
Shooting a glance in his father’s direction, he saw the elder Alsher pointing in the direction of the western gate.
“We do not want to draw attention.”
Refusing to be hushed, Zecus said, “But this is madness! She should stay here.” He whirled back to face Kenders. “You should stay here!”
Kenders bristled at his near-order.
“As it turns out, you do not get to tell me what to do.”
The pair glared at one another, neither willing to back away from their position.
“Son?” murmured Joshmuel. “It is not our place to challenge her. If this is her decision, we will abide by it.”
Satisfaction spread across Kenders’ face.
“Thank you for your support.”
Joshmuel stared up to Kenders and said, “To be clear, I do not support your decision. I, too, find it foolish. However, I am honor-bound to respect your wishes, regardless of their wisdom. You are determined to come. Fine. That is the end of it.” Peering back to Zecus, he added, “There will be no argument from us.”
Glaring at his father, Zecus protested, “But she—”
“Hush!” said Joshmuel. “This is the way of things. Accept it.”
Zecus held his father’s steady gaze, wanting to argue further but knowing this was a battle he was not going to win now. Perhaps he could reason with Kenders over the next few days to turn around and return to the enclave. Pressing his lips together, he dropped his chin to his chest.
“Fine.”
As Zecus glared at the gravel underneath his boots, Boah spoke up.
“I fail to see how this helps us.”
Zecus glanced up to find everyone staring at Boah.
The man stared up at Kenders and said, “You said you are going to stay with us for a few weeks only, yes? We won’t be out of the Southlands by the time you mean to come back.”
Zecus turned to stare at Kenders. Boah was right. Even with horses, they would barely be over the Fernsford Bridge by then.
“He’s right. You’ll accomplish nothing other than missing your studies.”
Kenders shot Tobias a nervous glance.
The tomble waved a hand and said, “Do not look at me. This was your idea.”
She sighed, looked back to the Borderlanders, and said, “I will explain everything once we leave the enclave.” Shifting her gaze between Joshmuel and Boah, she added, “Now, if you two would choose a horse, we can be underway.” She glanced toward the gate. “Quickly, please. Before the guards change.”
Boah stepped forward, gave Zecus a helpless shrug, and moved toward the horses. Joshmuel followed. While they mounted and settled themselves in the saddles, Zecus remained rooted in place, never taking his eyes off Kenders. She avoided his gaze, looking anywhere but at him.
Once situated on one of the horses, Joshmuel said, “Time to go, son.”
Zecus’ frown deepened. Seething, he faced Simiah, placed his boot in a stirrup, and lifted himself into the saddle. This was not over.
Chapter 29: Father
Exiting the enclave was simpler than Zecus could have hoped.
The magic used by Tobias to keep them hidden, paired with a Weave by Kenders to muffle their sounds allowed the group to ride past the guards unchallenged. One of the soldiers glanced up as they rode past, a curious expression on his face, but after a few tense moments he shrugged his shoulders and went back to talking with the other guards.
As Zecus and Kenders knew Claw better than the others did, they led the group through the village. Zecus repeatedly peered over at Kenders as they rode, silently urging her to look at him. She refused to meet his gaze. Even if she had, he would not have been able to speak with her. Not only had Tobias ordered them all to remain quiet, Kenders’ Weave muted the world. To Zecus, it seemed as if he had a pair of folded, woolen blankets covering his ears.
Upon reaching the western edge of town, Zecus guided them down the dirt road leading west, away from Claw. As they passed beyond the outer limit of the enclave’s protective shroud, the town and castle disappeared from sight. Wondering if they should stop yet, Zecus glanced back at Tobias. The White Lion waved his hand, indicating they should continue further into the forest. Zecus complied.
Once the trunks of the winter-bare oaks hid the bluff, Zecus heard the muffled voice of the tomble White Lion call, “Drop the Weaves!”
Moments later, a rush of sound hit Zecus and he started, surprised by how loud the nighttime forest seemed: creaking trees, wind whistling in the branches, an owl hooting in the distance. Moonlight streamed through the leafless branches overhead, turning the ground into a mesh of light and shadow.
Hearing a rustle of movement behind him, he turned to see Tobias urging his horse forward, wedging the chestnut in between Joshmuel and Boah
’s horse. For the first time, Zecus noted the two tan mounts were actually Nikalys and Jak’s horses, Hal and Goshen.
As the White Lion stopped his horse between Kenders and Zecus, he fixed her with a speculative gaze and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Kenders gave a short, resolute nod.
“Yes.”
“My earlier offer still stands.”
“No, I want to try.”
Zecus peered over the top of the tomble’s head and at Kenders’ determined profile.
“Try what?”
She ignored him, handed Smoke’s reins to Tobias, and began to dismount.
Raising his voice, he asked again, “What are you going to try?”
Hopping to the ground, Kenders strode away from the horses, further down the road.
Worried, Zecus shifted his gaze to Tobias and asked, “What is she doing?”
Tobias turned to look at Zecus, his eyes glinting with more than the reflected light from the two moons.
“Hopefully learning a lesson.”
“What does that mean?”
Tobias stared straight ahead.
“You will see.”
Turning his head, Zecus called, “Kenders!” He had a bad feeling about this.
She continued to ignore him as she strode through the mottled moonlight. Joshmuel and Boah both directed their horses forward to line up with Zecus and Tobias.
Boah whispered, “What’s happening?”
Zecus mumbled, “I do not know.” Looking over at Tobias, he added, “And he will not tell me.”
The tomble remained silent, his gaze locked on Kenders. She had stopped thirty paces from the horses and was standing motionless in the road.
Joshmuel muttered, “I believe I now understand how she means to help us.”
As one, Zecus and Boah asked, “How?”
“It was not that long ago we were all in Freehaven, was it not?” asked Joshmuel. He turned to Zecus. “Yet with but a single step, we were here.”
Zecus’ eyes opened wide, a jolt of fear stabbing his chest. He whipped his head around to stare at Tobias.
“Have you taught her the Weave for a port?”
Without taking his gaze from Kenders, Tobias gave a small shake of his head.
