The assassin’s hand shot out and swiped the twisted apparatus before the boy could touch it. He held the device at arms’ length, shooting an angry look at Irhan. Irhan returned the Shendi’s glare with a cold smile. The slave-boy fell to his knees and put his face to the floor, his body quivering like a frightened animal.
“A thousand sorries, dakim! A thousand sorries! I did not want to fail you! I will—”
“You will be still, boy.” Irhan never took his eyes from the gaze of the assassin. “Go, bring us more wine. Next time do not hesitate when I give an order.”
“Yes, dakim!” The slave rose and scurried away, keeping his gaze on the floor. Maarkov watched the assassin set the device back on the table.
“Now you know,” Irhan said, gesturing at the device. “Nothing will happen if someone else grabs it.”
Maarkov nodded to the Shendi. “I wouldn’t hold it for long.”
“No,” said the assassin, who was still looking at the device. “This is quite irregular.”
“I have the seal,” Irhan said. “You’ve seen it.”
“I will speak with the arbiter.” The Shendi gave Irhan an angry look.
Irhan shrugged and offered the assassin a smile. “Speak with him if you must. You have seen the parcel. You know what happens if you refuse.”
The Shendi scowled in return. He gestured for Maarkov to return the device to the bag and settled in the cushioned chair. His expression made his displeasure clear.
“Tell me everything,” the Shendi said. “Everything you know about the girl, where she is, and the people with whom she travels.”
***
D’Jenn’s awareness flew over the treetops, scanning the path of the river. The destruction from Bethany’s spell was widespread. Trees were bent away from the water as if a titan had swept a hand across the canopy. Corpses of Garthorin were scattered along the river where Bethany had unleashed her ill-conceived working. D’Jenn took in the sight of the devastation, marveling at the scope of the girl’s power.
The strength of a giant with the judgment of a child.
Black-feathered birds carpeted the scene, picking at bodies and fighting over the choicest bits. D’Jenn sent his mind flying along the ground and examined the corpses as he went. There were plenty of twisted, broken bodies, but none were human. D’Jenn felt relieved Dormael wasn’t amongst them, but he dared not let relief blossom into hope.
You saw that wall of water take him under. You know the chances are slim.
Hope was a fool’s emotion. Its only purpose was to cloud the truth. D’Jenn let out a mental sigh—feeling his body respond back at camp—and turned east.
The river carved a winding track through the valley. It grew stronger the farther east D’Jenn flew, churned to white froth by the rapids in its path. More bodies were caught against rocks, others were interspersed along the banks. All of them had the brutish, twisted forms of Garthorin. D’Jenn examined all the bodies he couldn’t see from the sky, but though he spent more time than he should have searching, he came up with nothing.
Dormael was nowhere to be found.
The morning sun pushed into the eastern sky as D’Jenn continued his search, every moment passing with greater urgency. He could feel the strain in his magic increasing with the distance, his connection to his body growing thin. He hadn’t had the sleep he needed to recuperate from the fight at the river. His body was flagging, and with it, his Kai. When his head ached with the strain of keeping his Kai open, he abandoned his efforts and returned his mind to camp.
With a deep sigh, D’Jenn opened his physical eyes.
The morning was calm compared to the night’s excitement. Birds chirped in the trees, a peaceful warbling that belied the danger of the mountains. Wind blew through the valley, whispering a comforting song that made D’Jenn want to lie down and sleep for three days.
I wish I had the time.
D’Jenn rose and stretched his sore muscles, being careful not to slip from the boulder he’d climbed to perform his magic. Trees stood around him, some just taller than the boulder itself, others reaching further toward the sky. D’Jenn finished stretching, tried to rub some pain out of his temples, and reached for the waterskin lying on the rock beside him.
“Did you find anything?”
D’Jenn looked down to find Allen standing at the base of the rock, eyes sunken in dark circles. Allen was fiddling with a dagger, cleaning his fingernails without bothering to look at the blade. He had yet to remove his armor and weapons, choosing instead to hover over D’Jenn while he performed his spell.
D’Jenn sighed and looked to the east. “Nothing. A lot of dead Garthorin, but—”
“No Dormael.”
“No.”
D’Jenn gathered his belongings and slid down the side of the boulder, stumbling as he landed. Allen steadied his shoulder with a firm hand. D’Jenn took the assistance with a pained smile and adjusted his clothing.
“Did you see any tracks? Signs that he might be alive? Anything?”
“Nothing, coz. Apologies.”
Allen nodded, his shoulders slumping. He turned to leave, shuffling down the rock formation with care. D’Jenn glanced one more time in the direction of the river and followed him.
They climbed around the side of the promontory, which stuck from the northern side of the valley. The outcropping wasn’t far from the river, but had provided a good defensible position. There was a single narrow path leading to a wide space beneath the rocks, and enough foliage around it to keep the camp hidden. There had even been room for the horses, making the campsite a perfect place to regroup.
No one had slept after the fight except Bethany, who had collapsed from the overuse of her magic. Shawna had been silent, a horrified look frozen on her face. When D’Jenn and Allen walked back into camp, Allen went to a corner and sat alone. His eyes focused on something only he could see, and he went quiet.
Shawna looked up. “Nothing?”
D’Jenn shook his head. Shawna nodded and sat back with a sigh. Resting her head against the stone behind her, she closed her eyes.
“Where’s Bethany?”
“Out by the footpath,” Shawna said. “She hasn’t said a word since she woke up.”
D’Jenn looked at Shawna, thinking he might offer some consolation, but decided to keep silent. Comforting words were not in his skill set, and he doubted she would accept false hope, in any case. When neither Shawna nor Allen said anything else, D’Jenn turned and headed for the footpath to find Bethany.
Bethany sat in the space between two boulders, leaning against one of them and staring at the countryside. Her back was to D’Jenn, but he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was feeling Dormael’s loss. D’Jenn felt a moment of sympathy for her—he knew well the dangers of using magic, and how quickly something could go wrong—but he pushed the feeling down to join the grief in his stomach. It wouldn’t do any good if he confronted her with emotion. Bethany was feeling the weight of her missteps without his help.
And well she should. The thought came unbidden, and D’Jenn tempered his anger with understanding. Bethany was a child, after all.
She’s also a powerful wizard. D’Jenn remembered how it had felt when she’d filled herself with her magic—like he had been buried in a hole full of angry insects. The breadth of her strength was such that he had hesitated to Splinter her in sheer amazement.
That mistake may have been just as deadly as hers. You are not without guilt in this.
Bethany didn’t look at him when he sat against the rock beside her. D’Jenn took a moment to situate himself, brushing pebbles from beneath his arse. Silence filled the space between himself and the girl.
“I looked for him.” D’Jenn was unsure where to begin. “But—”
“He’s not there,” Bethany finished, still looking at the trees to the north. D’Jenn heard the ghost of a sob in her voice and felt a pang of sympathy for her. There were wet streaks through the dirt on her cheeks.<
br />
“No.” D’Jenn tried to smile, but his face felt leaden. “Not yet, anyway. I plan to keep looking.”
“I—I didn’t mean to—I mean, I thought I could help.” Bethany’s voice cracked with unspent emotion. She sniffed and wiped her face, turning her eyes away from him.
D’Jenn chose his next words with care. “Bethany, we’ve discussed your use of magic. You knew—”
“I know,” she said, sniffling. “I know. I just…last time, at Orm, I helped. If it hadn’t been for me—”
“You were lucky.”
“—Dormael would have been killed! And in the tunnels under Ishamael—”
“Bethany, listen to me—”
“—all those idiots would be dead. Dormael said so! My father said so! He said that sometimes you have to—”
“Bethany!” D’Jenn’s tone stopped her words in her throat. He collected his emotions and took a deep breath.
Remember—she’s still just a child.
D’Jenn cleared his throat. “I wasn’t there for the tunnels, and I didn’t see what you did at Orm, but Dormael told me about it. What you did in those situations was simple. You picked things up and threw them around with your Kai. It’s one of the first things everyone learns to do, and most learn to master it before they’re taught much else. For you, things have been different, but—”
“You taught me to Splinter,” she said, “and were teaching me to make light, too! So why—”
“It was necessary, Bethany, you’re not listening—”
“Not listening?!” Bethany came to her feet. D’Jenn was taken aback by the emotion in her voice. “I listen all the time! Letters, mathematics, history, magic—all of it! I’m always just listening, and you won’t teach me anything that will help! If you had taught me how to—”
“How to what?” D’Jenn struggled to keep his voice calm. “How to make fire, Bethany? How to change forms, to bring lightning forth the way—” he stopped on the verge of saying Dormael’s name and turned a disgusted look to the northern horizon. Taking a deep breath, he forced his emotions back to silence and went on. “Bethany, if you have been listening all this time, you would know how foolish you sound right now.”
“Foolish?!”
D’Jenn’s eyes flashed to her. “Yes, Bethany—foolish. What you did wasn’t smart.”
“I’m not stupid,” she growled through her teeth.
“No, but you’re saying ridiculous things. Why didn’t we teach you something that could help, if we had done this, if we had done that—tell me, Bethany, why didn’t you try to pluck Dormael out of the water and bring him to the bank?”
Bethany’s eyes blazed with anger. “Because…well—”
“Because every time you catch things out of the air, what happens?”
“I break them.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“You break them,” D’Jenn said. “Besides, did that option occur to you? Did you try and think your way through the problem, or did you just reach out and—”
“I was trying to help!”
D’Jenn paused to let her voice echo through the hills. “And did you?”
Bethany’s eyes went wide, her expression stricken with grief. Fresh tears ran through the dirt on her face as she looked away. D’Jenn felt guilty for having thrown that in her face, but only for a moment. The girl lacked discipline and good judgment, and even though it would be a hard lesson, it was one she needed to learn.
“Why didn’t you?” Bethany turned an angry glare in his direction. “Why didn’t you pick him up and save him?”
“I hadn’t the strength by then,” D’Jenn said. “Too much flame. Too many other spells working at once. Besides—how do you know I wasn’t planning something? How do you know that, given you hadn’t interfered, I might have done something to change what happened?”
“But you didn’t!” Bethany’s voice climbed in register. “No one did! That’s why I had to—”
“Had to what, Bethany? Kill yourself under the weight of your own power?”
“I wouldn’t have—”
“Aye, Bethany, you would have.” D’Jenn raised a hand to forestall her protests. “You just don’t realize it because you’re not ready for that sort of magic.”
“I am ready,” she said. “I have to be ready! That’s what everyone keeps telling me!”
“No, Bethany, you’re not.”
“I am!” She clenched her fists. “If I had known how to do something good, I could have stopped them—all of them. I know it.”
“You do?” The doubt in D’Jenn’s tone was acidic.
Bethany raised her chin. “Everyone always says how strong I am. Lilliane and Lacelle were both afraid of me—they said so themselves—and there’s a reason for that. I’m special. That’s what everyone keeps saying!”
“Strength is nothing.” D’Jenn was disgusted with her words. “I thought we taught you better than this, girl. You think Dormael had it easier because he was stronger than other wizards? Do you think he just wished for things to happen and they did?”
“No, that’s not what—”
“No!” D’Jenn said, cutting her off with a slicing motion from his hand. “Magic is not a tool to use so bloody lightly. You don’t just go out and try to redirect the course of a fucking river, Bethany. It takes thought, discipline, dedication—”
“I am dedicated!” Bethany took a step forward. “I am disciplined!”
D’Jenn gave her a derisive snort. “If you were so disciplined, we would not be having this discussion right now.”
“I do everything I’m told to do!” Desperation leaked into Bethany’s tone, bringing another wave of angry sobs. “I meditate all the bloody time! I’ve caught so many rocks out of the air that I can’t even…just…” she trailed off and stared into the distance again. “I just wanted to help.”
“We’ve expressly forbidden you from—”
“That’s all you do!” Bethany spun in his direction, fists clenching again. “Forbid me to do this, forbid me to do that. Don’t ask about fighting magic, Bethany. Concentrate on Flying Rock, Bethany. You’re not ready for—”
“Because you’re not ready!” D’Jenn rose and faced her down. “You’ve demonstrated that in the most spectacular and costly way, girl. Have you stopped for a moment to think—”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it!” Bethany stepped closer, expression contorting. “I think about it all the time! What will happen when another wizard comes to take me and I can’t do anything about it? You all think I can’t hear you talking at night, but I can! If—if I had just known how to do something, anything, then maybe—”
“Maybe what, girl? You’d have summoned a firestorm? Killed all those creatures with a single thought?”
Bethany’s face twisted into an angry grimace. “Maybe. I’m strong enough.”
“Strength isn’t everything, girl. I thought we’d taught you that.”
“Maybe not everything,” she said, tears still streaming from her eyes. “But it’s something. And—and if you had taught me anything—”
“So this is my fault?” D’Jenn felt anger broiling in his chest. “Your father’s fault?”
“I didn’t mean that, but maybe if—”
“Maybe if we’d taught you to make fire, you could have done something?” D’Jenn shook his head and looked away from her, trying to control himself. “You think that reaching out the way you did and grasping for something—like a blind man feeling around in the dark—would play to calling up a force as volatile as fire? You don’t even have the skills necessary to control the strength of your Kai’s grip, Bethany. What makes you think you’re ready to work with something more destructive?”
“I can do it,” she growled. “I’m the strongest wizard in generations. Even Lacelle says so.”
“Does she?” D’Jenn bristled at having Lacelle wielded over him like a club. “And why should I give two golden shits what Lacelle says in this regard? Why should I be so
impressed with your strength?” He gave her a withering look and leaned down to drive it home. “You’re still a child, Bethany—a child who doesn’t understand the danger her power presents.”
“A child?” Bethany glared at him through lowered brows. “I’ll show you why you should be impressed with my strength. I’ll show you.”
Bethany’s Kai opened before D’Jenn could react. D’Jenn started back from her in utter shock and seized his own magic, feeling a trickle of the power he normally had. Bethany clenched her teeth and closed her eyes.
“I am strong.”
Bethany took a deep breath and filled herself with magic. D’Jenn could feel the sheer mass of the power she wielded. It thundered against his senses from this close, and he took a step away from her. His anger crystallized into something righteous as he faced her down.
How dare she open her Kai to me in anger!
The magic leaked out of her like heat from a bonfire, wafting into the world with little control. Pebbles vibrated underfoot, some of them rising from the ground to spin in the air like dancing motes of dust. The boulder behind Bethany cracked with an ear-splitting sound. D’Jenn controlled his breathing as the noise echoed through the valley.
“You would do this?” D’Jenn stared down at her with fire in his eyes. “You would posture before me like this? Threaten me with your power?”
Bethany’s resolve faltered for a moment, and her fists shook. D’Jenn stood before her without moving, trying to clamp down on his own anger. He could feel the part of him that wanted to teach her a lesson, to demonstrate her lack of knowledge by lashing out with his magic in some frightening way.
That’s Victus inside you.
The voice came from the back of his mind, gutting his anger and leaving regret in its place. Warlock training was stern and unforgiving. D’Jenn had been older and more resilient than Bethany when he’d been accepted. His time under Victus’s tutelage had only served to harden the more jagged edges of his personality.
The City Under the Mountain (The Seven Signs Book 4) Page 12
