by Kel Kade
“But I am not just traveling with him. I am to be his ward, and, if my father has his way, his wife. No one knows anything about him—not even what he looks like.”
Rezkin wished he could tell her the truth and set her mind at ease, but he could not for the same reason he had avoided using her name or title. He could not risk someone overhearing or chance that she might let it slip.
Instead, he said, “Your father does not always get his way.”
“Oh, yes, he does,” she argued.
“Perhaps in Channería, but you will not be in Channería.”
“Where will I be?”
“It is best not to speak of it now. So long as you are awake, you might as well get ready.”
“I am ready. I had only the one pack, remember?” she said, pointing to the tightly packed sack on the ground by the door.
A tingle of mage energy swept over Rezkin’s chest, and he dodged out of the way just in time to avoid a glowing green javelin that smashed into the ground where he had been standing and then disappeared. His back collided with the princess who yelped as she was shoved farther into the corner. He pressed her into the wall restricting her movement, and, hopefully, preventing her from accessing any of his weapons. Peering through the open doorway and across the yard, he saw a shadowy figure perched on the rickety roof of the adjacent building. The man was too far away to reach with his daggers or the miniature crossbow latched to his belt.
“Stay here,” he said to the princess before he dove across the opening. Two more javelins of green mage power struck the ground behind him as he scrambled for his pack that lay buried in the hay. Meanwhile, the tree that was Bilior stretched its boughs to wrap the flailing princess in a tangle of branches.
Rezkin strung his bow and grabbed four arrows before taking a position beside the doorframe. Peering around its edge, he saw that the figure remained where he had been, as though presenting himself as a target. Rezkin stuck one of the arrows into the ground beside him in the shadow of the doorframe. With two of the arrows held between his knuckles, he knocked the fourth and spied his target. Rezkin knew the man could see him, and yet he still did not hide or advance. The first three arrows shot through the air in quick succession, and the assailant used a tendril of power to smash them to pieces before they struck. The man had not seen the release of the fourth arrow, though, and did not have time to compensate. He dodged to one side and tumbled from the roof. Rezkin could not see what happened to the man beyond the wall of the yard.
“Did you get him?” Ilanet asked, peeking through the creature’s branches. She was hesitant to touch the creepy creature-tree, and she did not care for being surrounded by it. The Raven did not appear concerned, but she was not optimistic that the notorious criminal overlord would have such feelings for anyone, much less a useless, displaced princess.
“No,” Rezkin said as he searched the yard and beyond with a sharp gaze.
“Will you go after him?” Ilanet asked.
“It may be a ploy to draw me out, to lure me away from you,” he said as he rested the bow against the frame. “But I think I need not go to him. He will come to me.”
“And this … tree—it is protecting me?” she asked hesitantly.
Rezkin spied the creature from the corner of his eye. “Perhaps … or it is preparing to eat you. It is difficult to say.”
“What?” Ilanet shrieked as she struck the branches and kicked at what she thought to be the trunk.
Rezkin drew Bladesunder while tracking a shadow that swept over the yard. “Calm yourself. I believe you have little reason for concern.”
Ilanet did not find his words encouraging. After all, little reason was not no reason, and she was trapped. She was startled when a face appeared in the bark of the trunk within her cocoon. It studied her curiously with yellow-orange eyes and grinned. Her gaze was riveted on its dozens of needlelike teeth.
In a strange, sing-song voice, it said, “Raven’s sparrow entwined. A deal kept. Safety in mind.”
Ilanet’s heart pounded furiously, but she tried to grasp the meaning of the creature’s words. “Raven’s sparrow? That is me? I am safe? You are saying that I am safe?”
The creature did not answer, and the face dissolved back into the trunk. She tried to contain her fear-filled whimpers as she tugged at the branches with shaking fingers, hoping for a better view of her surroundings. She caught sight of a shadowy figure just as it sailed past the Raven.
Rezkin dodged out of the way as the assailant swung down from the roof. The man kicked out at his head, but Rezkin ducked and grabbed the offending foot. The skillful assailant used the leverage in conjunction with his own momentum to wrap around Rezkin’s body. Rezkin dropped to the ground, landing on the man with his full bodyweight. He jammed the pointed, teardrop shaped pommel of Bladesunder into the man’s ribs, eliciting a heavy grunt, and then rolled out of the assailant’s reach before regaining his feet. The assailant lurched to his feet and bowed to stave off Rezkin’s attack.
Maintaining his guard, Rezkin said, “Xa Jeng’ri, must I be prepared for this kind of greeting each time we meet?”
Xa grinned and said, “One must always be prepared.”
“Of course,” Rezkin said, “but why have you come?”
Xa’s smile fell. “I have been cast out—at least until the Ong’ri passes judgment. In essence, I am on suspension.” An expression of remorseful acceptance slipped across his face. “It is better than I expected.”
“That does not explain why you are here,” Rezkin said.
“I thought to convince you to present yourself to the Order so that they, too, may recognize you as the Riel’gesh.”
“I do not have time for frivolities,” Rezkin said as he sheathed Bladesunder.
Xa winced. “I may not return to the Order without you. If you will not go to them, then I shall accompany you.”
“I am ever cognizant of the dangers that surround me, but I cannot travel with those who seek to test me at every turn. You are an unnecessary risk.”
“You are the Raven Riel’gesh. You wage war from the shadows on more than one monarch. You need all the resources you can get. I will serve you with honor.”
Rezkin pondered the opportunity. The Jeng’ri would be a major asset, but could he afford the risk? He said, “You are quick. I do not miss my target often.”
Xa tugged the torn fabric at his shoulder, and his finger came away bloodied. “Still, you do not,” he said.
Rezkin knew as little about Xa as he did the strikers with whom he traveled. Xa was perhaps the lesser threat so long as he believed Rezkin to be the Riel’gesh. Still, he could not afford continuous testing by his presumed allies while also remaining vigilant against his enemies. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Beware, Xa Jeng’ri, the next time you attack me, I will kill you.”
Xa bowed. “I will not test you again.”
Rezkin did not believe the man. It was the way of the Order to gain rank through exploiting weakness in one’s superiors. With the consequences of failure known, though, Xa would not attack unless he believed he could win. For the moment, at least, Xa believed Rezkin indomitable and perhaps even immortal.
Rezkin asked, “How did you find me?”
“I followed the bodies.”
Rezkin nodded. Xa was more skilled than most, but if he could find Rezkin, then others would soon follow. It was time to leave. “Bilior, release the girl,” he said.
The creature’s face grew out of the trunk, peering at Rezkin and Xa. Bilior said, “Sparrow squawks and flitters. Not harmed.”
The branches retracted as the tree-like body untwisted and shrank into Bilior’s previous form. Ilanet was left shaking as she hugged herself and stared at Rezkin and Xa with wide eyes.
“Assassins,” she hissed. “Always trying to kill one another and then congratulating each other on their failed efforts.” She glanced at Bilior. “And trees with eyes and teeth that try to eat you! What have you gotten me into?�
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Xa’s expression held disapproval as he looked to Rezkin. “She seems ungrateful that you granted her life.”
Rezkin raised a brow. “Says the man who just tried to kill me again.”
The easy smile returned to the Jeng’ri’s face. “It was a good battle.” He pointed at Bilior and asked, “Did you create this golem?”
Rezkin shook his head. Although he had never seen one, he had learned that golems were structures, usually constructed of inanimate objects, that were given only the semblance of life by their mage creators. “Bilior is not a golem. He is Ahn’an.”
“What is Ahn’an?” Ilanet asked as she shuffled out of the corner while still clinging to the wall as far from Bilior as she could manage.
“If I am not mistaken, Ahn’an is the ancient name for the fae, the name still used by his people,” Rezkin said with a gesture toward Bilior. “Specifically, he is a katerghen.”
“You have one of the fae at your command?” Xa asked, again looking at Rezkin with a reverence that made him uncomfortable.
“I am not his master,” Rezkin said. “We have entered into a deal, a treaty, if you will.”
Xa’s disapproval was evident. “I will refrain from questioning your intelligence and say that you are brave. What is this deal?”
“That is none of your concern,” Rezkin replied as he shot a meaningful look at Bilior. The creature snapped his mouth shut, and the seam of his lips disappeared into smooth, wood-like flesh. Rezkin doubted the fae wanted to advertise the weakness that was their deal with him.
“He protected the girl but not you,” Xa observed.
Bilior chittered as his twigs and leaves shook. Rezkin thought it might have been a laugh. “Sparrow breaks when Raven flies, but Raven falls to no human foe.”
Xa stepped forward. “Then it is true? He is not human?”
“That is not what he meant,” Rezkin said as he unstrung his bow and secured it to his sack.
Bilior tilted his head all the way over to rest on his shoulder and peered at the two warriors out of the corners of his yellow-orange eyes. It was an odd gesture that Rezkin had not yet seen and could not interpret. Bilior’s head suddenly snapped upright, and he skittered out of the stables.
“What did he mean?” Ilanet asked.
“Only that he has confidence in my Skills,” Rezkin answered. “Collect your belongings. You are leaving now.”
Ilanet looked at him in alarm. “What? You are not going with me?”
Rezkin turned to Xa. “Your belongings are near?”
Xa nodded and glanced at the princess.
“Good,” Rezkin said. “Since you are here, I have a task for you. Escort her to Dark Tidings’s ship, Stargazer.”
“You trust me to escort her?”
Rezkin shrugged and feigned disinterest. “Once you leave here, it is no longer my concern. If you fail to deliver, then you must contend with Dark Tidings.”
“Is he such a threat?” Xa asked skeptically.
“You will see soon enough,” Rezkin answered. “You are not to disclose who she is, only that you are passengers boarding at Dark Tidings’s behest. He does not wish for others to know her identity until you near your destination. You will conduct yourself as her escort and guard until further notice.” Turning to the princess, he said, “You will act as though he is your most trusted ally and friend. You have known him most of your life. After it becomes known who you are, you may identify him as a longtime member of the king’s guard.”
Ilanet glanced at the assassin. “No one will believe he is a member of the king’s guard.”
Rezkin turned to study Xa. In his unrelieved black and grey, studded with weapons, ropes, and hooks, he certainly did not look the part of a Channerían king’s guardsman. “She is correct. Acquire a uniform on the way and stow it for later use. Remove the insignia of rank. Try to refrain from needlessly killing anyone.”
Ilanet huffed. “That is not what I meant. He does not act like a king’s guardsman.”
Rezkin said to Xa. “Act like a king’s guardsman.”
Xa snapped to attention and saluted smartly. “By your command, sir.” He followed the performance with a wink for the princess.
Ilanet left with Xa, making sure that Rezkin knew in no uncertain terms that she was angry with him for abruptly dumping her on the assassin. Although she knew he was the dreaded Raven, she had not treated him any differently. She was still a small-woman, though, and innocent. He doubted she truly understood the extent of the terror he had rained down on Ashai and, more recently, on a small portion of Serret. Had she seen the bodies, she might have felt differently. As it was, he had protected her, and she was intelligent enough to take advantage. He knew, both from the teachings of his masters and from his observations of outworlders, that the weak often attached themselves to the strong. Ilanet was physically weak and lacked endurance and skill, but she had shown true strength of spirit. It was a kind of strength that he would have undervalued before meeting Frisha.
With that thought, he turned and collected his pack. Just as he was approaching the open doorway, Bilior made an abrupt reappearance. The creature stretched himself upward to reach Rezkin’s height, standing nearly chest to chest. Rezkin was uncomfortable with the proximity, but remained steadfast. The katerghen grinned and then thrust a fury beast between them. The little tortoiseshell cat hung limp as a kitten between the Bilior’s twiggy fingers. It peered into Rezkin’s eyes and mewled pitifully.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked.
Bilior examined the cat and then looked back at Rezkin. By the odd tilt of his head, he appeared confused, but Rezkin could not be sure. “Black and brown, brown and black, small feline be your cat?”
“It does not belong to me. It is a wild animal,” Rezkin said.
Bilior’s leafy-feathers fluttered, and he grinned. “I may eat?”
Rezkin scowled. “No, you may not eat it.” He snatched a burlap sack from a pile in the corner and emptied the rotting alfalfa and oats. Holding it open, he said, “Put it in here.”
Bilior looked as though he was about to strangle the little beast.
“Alive,” Rezkin added.
The katerghen’s twigs drooped, and he slowly lowered the cat into the bag. He glanced at Rezkin several times, as if searching for approval. Or, Rezkin thought, maybe Bilior was hoping to gobble up the little furball without his noticing. He cinched the sack tightly with a short length of rope and then thought better of it. He did not want the cat to suffocate. Removing the rope, he elected to hold the bag closed until he reached his destination. He considered that at least the cat would be able to escape if something happened to him.
The streets were oddly desolate as he made his way toward the port district. He could hear shouting in the distance, but it was coming from the opposite direction, near the city center. Once he was in an area where the structures were more stable, he climbed atop the tallest spire, the bell tower of a temple, and peered across the sea of mismatched rooftops. Although he could see little detail from his vantage, it was apparent that masses of people were converging on an area that held several official residences. The city guards were overwhelmed, and it looked as though reinforcements were slow to respond. He briefly wondered if any of the guards had escaped to report the uprising, and then he decided that he did not care so long as his treaty and the princess both arrived at the ship.
Chapter 9
The ship’s crew was scurrying about hollering, hoisting, and hitching as they prepared Stargazer for departure. A group of passengers, mostly the wealthier foreigners, were gathered on the deck waiting for permission to disembark. Rezkin had ordered everyone to remain on board until the ship was ready to cast off, and the strikers were skillfully enforcing his will. In his drab traveler’s clothes, he was able to slip into the stream of workers loading last-minute acquisitions with little more than a nod from Shezar as he boarded the ship. Tam’s enthusiastic reaction upon seeing him was far more
animated, and, for some reason, Rezkin felt pleased.
“Hey, Rez! I’m glad to see you’re back, and it looks like you’re in one piece. Kai said you made it to Serret, but I admit I was a bit worried.” With a cheeky grin, he added, “More for us than you, I think.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I never know if I can believe anything Kai says.”
“It is good to see you, Tam,” Rezkin said with a friendly smile as he mentally applauded his friend’s assessment of the striker.
He stepped around Tam, continuing to his quarters, and Tam fell in beside him. Tam’s eyes were drawn to the bag that seemed to be moving of its own accord at Rezkin’s side.
“What’s in the bag?” Tam asked.
“A cat,” Rezkin said.
Tam looked at him quizzically. “Why do you have a cat in a bag?”
Rezkin looked at Tam sideways. “It was easier to carry this way.”
The cat screeched and jerked against its confines before settling down again. Rezkin glanced at the bag and wondered why the little beast had suddenly become agitated when they boarded the ship.
Tam chuckled and said. “Yeah, but … uh … it doesn’t seem very happy. Don’t you think we should let it out?”
Rezkin looked around at the chaos of the ship’s crew and passengers. “You want to let the cat out of the bag here?”
“Let the cat out of the bag about what?” Tieran asked as he sauntered up to them.
Rezkin frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“That is what I want to know,” Tieran said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Tam’s gaze bounced between the two as they stared at each other in mutual confusion. Finally, he said, “Uh … Rez has a cat in a bag. I was trying to find out why.”
The cat chose that moment to protest its predicament again. Rezkin kept a firm grip as the bag lurched, a violent motion that was accompanied by an angry yowl.
