Cael frowned at me and I knew that she tried Reading me. “You have yet to tell me why,” she said.
Why. It was a topic we had avoided and I had not offered the explanation, as much as I could sense she wanted it. “You had not asked.”
I tensed, thinking to lower the barriers in my mind. After all that we had been through, she deserved a measure of trust. Still, trust did not come easily to me, not after all these years.
Her eyes flickered with a hint of disappointment. Without my Sight, I might not have seen it; she hid it well. With a conscious effort, I dropped my barriers, feeling exposed and raw. How many Readers down in Elaeavn could reach me where we stood? Yet it was only one Reader I feared, one Reader whose opinion mattered.
“What happened, Galen?”
I took a deep breath, tasting the sea as I did. Everything about this place reminded me of a childhood I had struggled for so long to forget, a childhood that my time with Isander had allowed me to forget. But then we had found Della and everything returned.
“A mistake,” I said, looking out toward the water. “I was apprenticed to Della. She taught me medicines and ointments and healing.” Saying the last was still hard. Everything I had done after had been a betrayal to what Della had taught.
Had Cael wanted to do so, she could simply Read me and find the answers she wanted. I didn’t doubt there were things she couldn’t access, thoughts or memories buried or shielded in such a way that even with her impressive gifts she couldn’t see them, but after seeing Della again, those memories floated at the surface.
“I was an angrier person then, hot-headed and quick to rage. Quelling that anger had always been Della’s intent when she took me in. Sometimes I think she intended to heal me of myself. One day, there was a spoiled young man, little more than a palace kid—”
I cut off quickly, regretting the phrase.
“I was a palace kid,” she said, though she laughed as she did.
I wondered how much Cael knew how the rest of Elaeavn viewed those living in the palace. Certainly she now knew my feelings, but had she allowed herself to Read others living in the city? Had she even left the palace to experience other parts of the city? When I had lived in Elaeavn, it was rare for those in the palace to leave. Most never saw the need.
The path began to widen. Few roads led into the city itself; the primary access to Elaeavn was by boat. Our path led to a wider road that split, one running north and the other south and down into the city. To the north was Ilphaesn, the massive mountain whose mines served as the city’s prison, men sentenced to mine the lorcith buried deep within the mountain tunnels. I remained thankful that I had never been sentenced there. Even exiled, there was a certain sort of freedom.
Cael took my hand and squeezed. “You don’t have to share this if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“You deserve to know,” I said. “If I’m to return, then you should know.”
“Not just return, Galen. I intend for you to be restored.”
Restored. As far as I knew, none had ever been restored once exiled. None had ever been remembered once Forgotten. “That… is unlikely.”
Cael flashed a smile and winked. At that moment, she looked nothing like the uncertain woman I had met when first hired to kill her. That Cael had been nervous but brimming with potential. After everything we had been through, she had grown increasingly confident.
Her abilities had grown as well. Did she recognize that as well? Always a strong Reader—even from the very first time I met her—her ability with Compulsion had increased as well. They were linked, I suspected, though I didn’t know how.
“Tell me what you plan,” I said.
We took a series of steps along the road. In the distance, I saw the first person we’d seen since leaving Innoa days before. We had traveled past the Aisl Forest, skirting along the border rather than venturing into the heart of the great forest that had once been home to our people. That had been my choice; Cael felt more comfortable with entering the Aisl than I would have been, but there was no way to know with certainty if we were followed. She had allowed me that concession to my paranoia, though I do not think she agreed with me. After what I had seen in Della’s home, after learning that she worked with Lorst, I did not dare be anywhere someone could so easily hide, especially not one as clearly skilled as him.
“You defeated him once.”
“Not easily. And mostly by luck,” I answered before realizing that she had Read me.
“You don’t barricade yourself like you once did.”
I shook my head, not daring to look over at her. She still held my hand and I enjoyed the contact. “I have nothing to hide from you.”
My face grew hot as it always did when our conversation turned to my feelings. Always mine. Cael had never shared how she felt.
She squeezed my hand. “Some things don’t need to be said.”
“You still haven’t told me what you plan,” I said, hoping to cover the uncomfortable silence between us.
Cael only laughed. “And you have not yet shared why you were banished.”
Banished. She never used the word Forgotten, at least not to describe me. “He threatened Della,” I said simply. “As I said, I was young. An apprentice only, but appreciative of the opportunity she offered. Had it not been for Della, I would have had to work the docks like my father. Or worse. Instead, she offered me an education and the chance to learn a useful trade. One that should have been beyond me.” I smiled at the memory. “I will never know what she saw in me.”
“Compassion.”
Cael answered quickly, making me wonder if she had Read that from Della. Unlikely. Della would have remained shielded around Cael, and if there was one person whose shielding I trusted to withstand even Cael, it would be Della.
“We found him in the street. Injured. She healed his wounds, sewed him neatly. Of course there would be scarring. A wound like that always leads to scarring. She had other ways of healing, but she refused to expose herself by using them. This man grew angry when he saw the wound. Threatened her. Hurt her.”
I wouldn’t tell Cael how the man had placed Della’s hand into the fire. I would never understand how it didn’t burn her as it should, but the fear I felt as he did it, the rage that overtook me when he did, still had not left me. The image is one I had never been able to rid myself of.
“I thought she needed defending so I stepped in. Gave him a matching wound. With my previous offenses, that alone would have been enough to get me sentenced to the mines. But of course he was Elvraeth, so the punishment changed.”
I felt Cael stiffen and wondered if she knew who it was. When brought before the council, I never learned his name, only that he was Elvraeth.
“You know him, don’t you?” I asked.
That she let go of my hand should have told me everything I needed to know. A gust of wind kicked up, swirling her cloak around her. She wrapped her arms around herself. “How long ago would that have been?”
I had never taken the time to add up the years. Once banished, there had never been the need. Elaeavn would never be home again. Cael’s asking forced me to consider. I had spent five years with Isander, first learning to heal and then learning to kill. After leaving Isander, I had wandered for nearly two years before settling in Eban. And I had been in Eban nearly seven. Almost fifteen years. How old would that make the young man I had attacked? He must have been fifteen or twenty himself then. Was he the same person, still filled with entitlement, or had he changed as much as I had? I may not have the same propensity to rush to anger, but there were other faults. And better reasons for banishment.
“A lifetime,” I answered.
“I would like to think that he has changed,” she whispered.
“Who is he?”
Cael shook her head and let out a soft sigh. “A cousin.”
Cousin. With the Elvraeth, they were all related, but she said it in a way that made me believe the connection something closer.
> “My uncle’s son. I grew up around him, always wondering about the scars. One on each side of his face. The left cheek had healed well, leaving little more than a line down his face. The right was not as fortunate. The scar is thick and irregular. He has never spoken of those wounds.”
The right scar. The one made by my knife. I had not remembered the wretchan I had been cutting for Della, but once it seared his flesh, I had.
“I’m sorry, Cael,” I said. Nothing I could say would take away what had happened. What was worse, even today I didn’t feel remorse. “But you see, after what I did, I can’t be restored.”
She turned to me, a strange light in her deep green eyes making me wonder whether she intended to Read me or Compel me. “And I shouldn’t have survived Eban. Yet, with your help I did. The crystal will return to the city.” She smiled and leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “They were challenges I didn’t think myself capable of, so now it only makes restoring you that much more rewarding.”
19
The winds picked up when we reached the city limits. Cael held tightly to my hand, thankfully unwilling to let go now that we reached our destination. Much had changed in the time that I had been gone, but so much remained the same.
The road led us past the docks in Lower Town. My early childhood had been spent working the docks, flinging fish or helping unload cargo, but usually just getting underfoot. I no longer had the calluses from those days—now I had different calluses from different work—but remembered the backbreaking labor that I had once done, all before reaching the age of ten. Yet I looked back on those days fondly, remembering well how my mother would sing me to sleep after each day, my father sitting by the fire, drinking cheap ale and playing the lute. Everything had changed when the storm took his ship.
A handful of shadowed ships were moored out in the bay. A single-masted ship docked closest, a few lanterns glowing atop the deck. Figures moved there that even my Sight could not fully penetrate. Smaller boats were tied closer to shore. Dozens of round-hulled portage boats rested at angles on the shore, most with paint chipped and faded. The air along the docks carried the smell of fish and salt mixed with the bitter aroma of spices. The smells as much as anything brought back my memories.
“What happened to your mother?” Cael asked. Her voice did not get much above a whisper. The night drew long; the bright moon sank toward the horizon as we neared the city, and she stayed close to me. As Elvraeth, she would not be comfortable in Lower Town.
Lower Town had been home to me during my youth, but I had lived in places worse than it since leaving Elaeavn. Much of Eban was the same—at least the parts where I spent my time.
“After my father was lost, she fell sick. That’s how I met Della. We needed a healer and she was the only one willing to see her. She took pity on me, I think. Helped my mother and offered to take me on as an apprentice.”
“She still lives?” Cael sounded surprised. Somehow, she must not have been able to read that about me.
“I don’t know. Once you’re banished, those remaining can have no contact with you. I’m one of the Forgotten, Cael.”
A note of irritation entered her voice. “Never forgotten, Galen. And certainly not by your mother.” She looked up at me and her eyes blazed a bright green. “Haven’t you ever wanted to know what happened with her?”
We passed rows of low warehouses. A sellsword patrolled between the buildings. The curve of his blade told me that he was Neelish trained. Dangerous swordsmen. I had some experience with Neelish sellswords—and had even acquired one of their swords—and hadn’t known they were employed here. I guided Cael away from the sellsword, not needing a confrontation now.
A few high lanterns glowed along the street, but spaced so far apart as to be practically useless unless one were strongly gifted with Sight. Around here, I suspected that most were.
“At first,” I finally went on. “The first few months were the hardest for me, but Isander trained me well, driving from me any thoughts of home.” The lessons had been hard but necessary. Then again, Isander had been wrong when he told me I could never return. Here I stood once more in Elaeavn. “Della told me that she would make sure my mother was cared for. There was no one I trusted more to make certain that was so.”
Cael stiffened when I spoke of Della in that way. What had she Read of her? What more did she know about the old healer? Enough to know what happened with Lorst, I felt certain.
As the warehouses ended, a string of taverns all pressed together. Each building was designed to blend into the rock, creating the illusion from the sea that no city existed on these shores. Music drifted out of some, but at this hour even the taverns were empty. This time of night was when the streets were dangerous, the time of night when I worked.
“Do you still consider yourself an assassin?”
I shrugged at the question. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“I am in no danger in Elaeavn.”
I would not argue, even though I did not think that true. The Elvraeth never really understood life in Lower Town, even as they lived up in the palace overlooking it. “You still must return the crystal. Then you’ll be safe,” I said.
She hesitated. “And then what?”
And then? I hadn’t given much thought to what would happen then, though I needed to. At first, my goal had been simply to see Cael safely back to Elaeavn. Over time, that had changed, evolving as my connection to Cael had changed. That and she had saved my life twice. I couldn’t return to Eban, but where would I go?
“How do you think to restore me?”
As much as Cael thought she could manage my restoration, I didn’t really expect her to succeed. As long as the council didn’t throw me in chains for returning with Cael, it didn’t really matter what they said. I had been away from Elaeavn long enough that I no longer felt a part of it. And now that I had left Eban, I had no home.
“My father sits on the council,” she started to answer.
She hadn’t shared that fact before. It gave her more leverage than I thought possible. More than I thought I could hope for.
There was a flicker of motion at the corner of my eye. It moved toward us more quickly than it should, a soft blurring sort of movement. I had seen that kind of movement before and barely survived.
I pushed Cael toward a gap in the nearby wall. Lantern light didn’t filter into here, leaving us enveloped in darkness. I shifted my cloak, pulling it around me. Unless someone was strongly Sighted, I would be difficult to see.
The Slider appeared briefly, standing where we had last stood. His long face with pale green eyes made my heart skip until I realized it wasn’t Lorst.
But who?
My hand dipped into my pouch. Other than the reeds and makeshift toxins, I had only a few darts remaining, but I quickly prepared what I had. I only had a long bladed knife for defense if the darts failed. Though I could use that to protect us, it would be good for only one additional throw.
Then the person Slid toward us.
As they Slid, I flicked my dart, anticipating where they would reappear. But they didn’t. The dart sailed into the empty night. I heard it sink into stone on the other side of the street with a soft chink.
I reached back to signal Cael to remain motionless, but the alley behind me was empty.
I spun, my last two darts in hand, panic starting to rise in my chest for the first time in as long as I could remember. The alley was empty. Cael was gone.
20
The empty night no longer felt comforting to me, not as it once did. Suddenly I saw shadows that shimmered, leading me to slam back against any neighboring walls to hide, waiting painful and precious moments until I felt certain that no one followed.
I ran through the alley, searching for Cael, at first unwilling to call out her name for fear of drawing attention before finally relenting.
“Cael!” I hissed.
I heard nothing.
Whoever had been
on the street Slid past me, grabbing Cael as they did. I had no idea where they would take her—or what would happen to her once there—but I couldn’t simply wait to learn. I needed to do what I could to find her.
At least Cael wasn’t completely helpless. Against a single assailant, I suspected that her ability to Compel might be enough to save her, but if there were more than one?
How had they known we were here?
I suspected Lorst knew.
My time with Della—though brief—made it clear that she was interested in the crystal. I trusted Della, but not Lorst. And Della, like Lorst, wanted the crystal. I hadn’t learned the reason, nor did I particularly care. My goal had always been seeing Cael to safety. That meant returning her home to Elaeavn, the crystal intact. Without the crystal, she wouldn’t return.
I went back to where we had been attacked. Searching the street, I strained against the darkness, looking for any sign of who might have been here.
The ability to Slide was rare, enough so that I’d never seen it while in Elaeavn. I wondered, though, could any of the Elvraeth Slide? Certainly they had greater abilities than average as their gift from the Great Watcher.
The street was empty. A gray and white cat prowled around one corner of the alley—considered good luck by many—but really nothing else. Dirt along the street smeared in a long streak. A strand of auburn hair caught on the corner of a building, unusual but too long for the person I had seen. A fleck of dark gray caught the moonlight.
I stopped and picked it up. The texture was familiar. Small, barely more than the tip of my fingernail, but I recognized it as lorcith.
I looked for anything else that might help but came up empty. Cael was simply gone.
Flipping open my pouch, I slipped the bit of lorcith inside, discarding the hair. I had only a few darts remaining and no vials. My mind raced, but I knew that If I were to do anything useful to help Cael, I needed to restock my supplies.
The Forgotten (The Sighted Assassin Book 2) Page 13
