Wayfarer (The Empyrean Chronicle)

by Siana, Patrick

  “And now?”

  “Without the sword’s enchantment, she’s dying,” said Nyla in a small voice. “But she said she’s going to try to hold on until you come to her. She has many things she would tell you.”

  “Then we won’t disappoint her,” Elias said, a sudden fire in his voice. “Tomorrow I will confront Mordum before all the Enkilder.”

  “What of me?” asked Nyla.

  A sudden idea came to Elias as he considered her question. “You will meet me and your mother at the assembly hall. You’ll hold onto this.” He handed her his sword. “It will protect you, keep you hidden, keep you safe. It’s absorbed much power, and will yield its strength to you. There’s just one thing more I need you to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Draw it.”

  Nyla studied Elias. He gave her a reassuring nod. She wrapped her hand around the hilt. Her little fist seemed so tiny on the long grip. She slid the blade free and at once a high-pitched buzz filled her mind. A warm shock, like a thousand static sparks rushed through her. A powerful burning sensation flourished in her chest. She pulled open her blouse to discover that a single rune had been branded over her breastbone. “What is it?”

  Elias rolled up his sleeve and showed her the runes on his forearm, one of which matched the one she now wore. “It’s for protection against those who would harm you,” Elias found himself replying automatically, unsure where the knowledge had come from, but as he said it he knew it to be true. “Now we’re bonded, you and I, like brother and sister.”

  Nyla smiled shyly at him. Her eyes fell on the desmene he wore and her eyes narrowed. “What of those?”

  “Here, touch the blade to them.”

  Nyla brandished the enchanted steel in two hands, and gingerly laid the flat of the blade against the cursed bindings. The steel vibrated and glowed red as a sibilant, whispering sound issued from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

  Elias shook his hands and chuckled. “See you’ve done it! Their hold over me is broken.”

  “Shall we break them off?”

  Elias considered a moment before flashing her an impish smile. “No, I think not. I’ll wear them at little longer. The element of surprise will prove our greatest benefit. Besides, I can’t wait to see the look on Mordum’s face when I tear them off.”

  Nyla returned Elias’s grin. “I like it.”

  “Now, put that thing away and come here.”

  Nyla complied and crumpled into Elias’s arms, the surge of adrenaline finally failing her. Hot tears pooled in her eyes and dripped onto his shoulder. For once in her life she wasn’t ashamed to cry and let her new friend—her new brother—hold her as if she was but a toddling child.

  She must have fallen asleep, because when she next opened her eyes she was lying on his bed, with the sword clutched in her hands, and her father’s old cloak laid over her. “Elias?” She sat up to see that he was standing by the door, head cocked to one side, deep in thought.

  “I know you’re tired, but the way is clear,” he said. “And I think there’s someone in the next room that is very eager to see you.”

  Nyla sprung up as if she had a week’s sleep. “Momma?”

  “They weren’t clever enough to keep her further away.” Elias approached her and pressed a key into her hand. “Here, this will open her room.”

  “How did you get this?”

  “I lifted it from one of Cormn’s retainers, when he helped carry me back from the assembly hall.”

  “You were sick?”

  “Mordum drugged me, but I’m fine now.”

  “That craven has much to answer for.”

  Elias squeezed her shoulders. “He will. Now go to your mother, and remember, as long as you hold the sword, and hold the intention in your mind, your spell will endure and none will see you.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  Elias nodded. “That’s a promise.” Elias reached out with his senses again, to make sure the way was still clear. “All right, go.” He opened the door a sliver, and Nyla squeezed through it and padded down the hall.

  Elias knew the granite walls were several feet thick, but as he fell asleep that night, he fancied he heard joyous weeping.

  Chapter 26

  Desmene

  Elias scanned the courtroom for Nyla, but he didn’t see her. He suppressed a smile. The girl was good, and he had no doubt that she would one day rival both her parents in mastery of the fey High Arcanum.

  He felt Malak’s eyes on him, and turned to the barrister. The Enkilder wore a grim expression, but in the presence of Elias’s buoyant mood, his consternation faltered, then melted. One of his pale, delicate eyebrows arched and he shook his head with an exaggerated sigh, before resuming his native gravity.

  When Malak had come to him that morning the Enkilder was taken aback to find his charge in such good spirits. “What’s gotten into you?” he had remarked.

  Elias had offered him only a toothy grin and said, “I have a plan, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise. It’s time to turn the tables.”

  His counselor had studied him then, peering closely into Elias’s eyes, and doubtlessly probing his aura as well. “Very well,” he said at last, “we lack the time for a full explanation of your schemes. Only, promise me you’ll follow my lead in Arbitration.”

  “Agreed,” said Elias, as he clapped the barrister on the shoulders. “Lead the way, friend.”

  As Elias approached the table that sat himself, Malak, and Teah, he exchanged a long look with the latter. Contentment and pride lurked in her eyes, and Elias knew at once that this must be the expression of a cat of prey that has just cornered the prize stag.

  When all had been settled and their attention focused upon the Arbiter, Cormn took the floor. “As the adversaries had the opening yesterday, today the defense may open, if it is your wish Barrister Malak.”

  Malak stood and straightened his waistcoat. “Yes, Arbiter. Thank you.” Malak paused, waiting for Cormn’s assent to continue, which presently came with a curt nod from the Arbiter. “The defense calls to witness, Teah, daughter of Aren.”

  Teah stood in a single fluid motion. She wore a gown of pale green silk. Against the soft color of the gown, and in the bright yellow light of the Enkilder’s enchanted lamps, the gold of her hair shone like molten ore. She held her head straight and regal, and her eyes burned like emeralds, catching the lamplight and holding it as if by some secret Arcanum known to her alone. Teah approached the witness podium and stood behind it, her expression flirting with the line between indignant and nonchalant.

  Malak strode to the open floor before the podium. “Tell us, Teah, was it ever your intention to break Enkilder law?”

  “Certainly not.”

  Malak spread his hands and adopted an expression of mock-surprise. “And yet you took in an outsider—a human, no less.”

  “My daughter sought to save his life,” Teah replied, “and it is not in me to turn away a soul in peril, Enkilder, human, or otherwise.”

  Malak pressed a finger to his mouth, as if deep in thought. “Yet there was more to it than that, was there not?”

  Teah sighed, and hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Would you be so good as to enlighten us?”

  Teah’s eyes tracked to Elias, where they rested for a beat. “The Wayfarer bore the mark of destiny. I felt the spirits of our ancestors speak to me. I knew I had to take him in.”

  “Objection!” cried Celiba, who shot to her feet. “There is no way to test Teah’s claim. It is a cheap tactic to appeal to sentiment, and nothing more.”

  Before Cormn could rule on Celiba’s appeal, Teah fired a reply. “If you would call me a liar, then speak plainly, Barrister. It is no more in me to tell a lie then it is in my fellow accused. That is your province, not mine.”

  “That’s enough, Teah,” Cormn barked. “Barrister Malak, you may continue, but mind your witness, lest she be held in contempt of these proceedings.”

  Malak
gave his father a curt nod and continued. “Your husband, Leosis, known to us as Speaker, shared your point of view?” asked Malak.

  “Indeed,” said Teah. “He felt that the Wayfarer alone could fix the rifts in the ether, both the ones created by the Fey and the recent disturbances.”

  At this pronouncement a great roar ricocheted through the chamber. When the shuffling and whispering settled down, after a boisterous call to order from Cormn, Malak continued. “In point of fact, Leosis himself invited Wayfarer to his Abeotium, the most sacred of our rituals.”

  “Yes.”

  “Further, did not Leosis give the Wayfarer his cloak, from off his own back?”

  “Yes.”

  “And is it not true that the Wayfarer saved Illedium from a pack of Lichlor that sensed our haven?”

  “Yes,” said Teah. “He went to investigate and I followed after, to shield him. When we reached the edge of our domain the foul creatures attacked. If not for Wayfarer, I’d be dead.”

  “Yet even he could not defeat them all himself,” said Malak, his voice growing soft, his tone grave. “You, yourself, had to break the First Law to spare his life, no?”

  “Had I not, the pack leader would have escaped and alerted his masters.”

  “Do you regret your choice?”

  Teah glared at Malak, her eyes narrowing by the sparest of degrees. “I regret that I had to kill, yes, but I don’t regret my choice. It needed to be done to save the Wayfarer, and my child, the children of all Enkilder. No, I did as I must.”

  “So,” said Malak, drawing out the word, “you believe your actions were justified, but should you have not sought the approval of the council first?”

  “There was no time,” Teah replied. “By the time the council would have been convened it would have been too late. The beasts would have already reported to their masters.”

  “I see,” said Malak. He strode away from the podium and addressed the Arbiter. “I’ve no further questions.”

  “Very well,” said Cormn. “Barrister Celiba, you may address the witness.”

  “With pleasure,” said Celiba.

  “The Arbiter do not require, nor do they wish for, your editorial comments, Barrister. A simple yes will suffice.”

  Celiba bowed her head. “Yes, Arbiter.”

  Her contrition, feigned or not, was short lived. Celiba stalked toward Teah with slow, deliberate steps, the clicking of her boot-heels on the marble floor the only sound in the cavernous room. “Tell me, Teah, did you wait until Leosis was cold before you took another man into your bed?”

  Malak surged to his feet. “Objection! Barrister Celiba is utterly out of line!”

  “Agreed,” growled Cormn. “Celiba this is your last warning. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Arbiter. My apologies.”

  Celiba took a breath, preparing to continue her line of questioning, but Teah broke the beat of pregnant silence first. “Let me be pristinely clear, Celiba,” Teah said, her voice bright and sharp as a freshly honed dagger. “There is not one among you fit to fill the shoes of Leosis, yourself included, Barrister, as an arcanist, or as an Enkilder. I will not suffer him to be blasphemed.”

  “As it happens, Teah, daughter of Aren, we happen to agree, for once,” Celiba returned, nonplussed. “Which is precisely why I very much doubt that Leosis of all people would condone your actions—any of them.”

  “I have already testified to the contrary. I will not argue with you over this point.”

  “You see, I just think the timetable is wrong here.” Celiba paused, but when Teah didn’t take her bait she continued. “Is it not a fact that Leosis was already in the heart of Illedium Wood, deep in meditation when the Wayfarer infiltrated our domain?” When Teah’s only response was an icy glare, Celiba added, “That was a question dear.”

  Teah thought carefully. If she said yes, and then tried to qualify the statement, Celiba would likely steamroll over her. However, Teah had grown more than weary of the farcical proceedings, and in her marrow, she shared Elias’s sense of foreboding—they were running out of time. Teah met Celiba’s eyes, and she let the heft of the arcane fill her voice, lending it a sonorous, insistent quality. “Leosis was with me when Elias, known as Wayfarer, appeared.”

  Much to Teah’s satisfaction, Celiba was taken aback, surprise written clearly on her features. “What? Let the record note, that Leosis was observed by many to have been in the sacred glade on the day the Wayfarer came into our domain. Do you deny this?”

  “No.”

  Celiba’s features darkened. “And yet you say that Leosis was with you when the Wayfarer came to you?”

  Teah allowed herself the indulgence of a spare smirk. “Yes.”

  “Well,” Celiba said, spreading her arms wide, “perhaps you care to enlighten the rest of us as to how our Leosis managed the feat of being in two places simultaneously.”

  A fire rose in Teah, and she funneled it into her voice. “My Leosis was a master of the Highest Arcanum. Though his corporeal form dwelled in the glade, his projected consciousness, his spirit, was with me in our home, telling me a great many things, one of which was the imminent arrival of Elias.”

  “So, you claim your were in telepathic communication with your husband?”

  “No, this was something much more. It was a higher art than mere telepathy.”

  “You spin quite the yarn, I’ll give you credit for that,” Celiba said, “yet need I remind you, there is no proof that any such miraculous happening occurred. Unless, you have any to produce?”

  Teah chopped a hand through the air, as if cutting an invisible rope with the blade of her hand. “Enough. I am done answering questions. I am done with this farce.”

  “Need I remind you of the rules of Arbitration?” Celiba asked. “I am not done asking, and so you are not done answering.”

  Teah snorted. “Nevertheless.” She left the podium and made her way back to the long table she shared with Malak and Elias.

  “Teah, she is not wrong,” said Cormn, not unkindly.

  “Of that I am aware,” Teah said, “but I would rather subject myself to the combined wrath of the Arbiter than suffer further discourse with this irreverent malcontent.”

  Cormn chewed on that for a moment, before saying, “So noted.” The Arbiter cleared his throat. “Barrister Malak, do you wish to bring further argument at this time?”

  Malak stood. “Yes, Arbiter. I call to witness, Elias, known as Wayfarer.”

  “Very well,” said Cormn. “The Wayfarer may take the podium.”

  Elias made his way to the center stage, making every effort not to walk too fast. Teah’s fire had proven contagious and he felt a near unbearable urge to be rid of the great audience chamber and all its trappings.

  Malak straightened his waistcoat and approached the podium. “You have been accused, Elias, of some weighty crimes. You have been charged with the use of forbidden magic.”

  “Forbidden by your laws, not mine.”

  Malak spread his hands. “An argument you have made before in these proceedings, yet I must remind you that it is tradition, even under your customs, to adhere to the laws of the land you inhabit, no?”

  Elias smiled. Clever Malak. “I must remind you, that the magic in question was used outside your domain, in the ruins of my own. I was not on Enkilder soil.”

  Malak stood straight and turned, offering his profile to the Arbiter, so that they and the audience could espy him with equal ease. “Let it be recorded, that the accused, Elias, known as the Wayfarer, is the citizen of another nation. Let it be recorded that he is being held prisoner for violating Enkilder, not human law. Let it be recorded that said alleged violations took place without the borders of our domain, on land the Enkilder may claim no dominion of.”

  “Objection!” cried Celiba. “This is a technicality and speaks nothing to the lasting damage his actions may have caused to our haven!”

  “It is not technicality, but point of fact,” Malak shot back,
with no little vehemence. “Further, must I remind the adversarial that they have lodged not a single shred of evidence that Elias has caused any disruption in our domain.”

  “Enough!” cried Cormn. “The defense and adversarial will refrain from addressing each other during Arbitration. This is our highest court, not a tavern brawl. That having been said, Celiba, your objection is dismissed. The defense may continue.”

  Malak gave the Arbiter a curt nod. “Elias, did you intend any harm to the Enkilder, our domain, or the ether in general?”

  “On my life, no.”

  “Did you engage in the willful use of Arcanum you knew to be taboo?”

  “No.”

  “What are you intentions if you are freed?”

  Elias looked down, swallowing against a sudden thickening of his throat. He pulled his head high again, feeling a pressing weight upon his crown. “I’m going to find a way home. I’m going to repair whatever damage my accidental appearance here has caused.”

  Malak let the silence reign as he slowly made his way back to his seat, his slippered feet making not so much as whisper. “No further questions.”

  “Barrister Celiba,” said Cormn, “your witness.”

  Celiba stood, but stayed behind her table. “You claim that there were no ill intentions behind your actions—is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “If only every fool that meant no harm, managed not to do any.”

  “Objection,” said Malak.

  “Upheld,” said Cormn. “Direct your questions to the witness, and spare us your editorial rhetoric. You’ll have time for that in your closing argument.”

  Celiba bowed her head. “Withdrawn. Now, tell us, Wayfarer, how did you come to Illedium?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Celiba snorted. “Surely you must have some notion, or did you simply go to sleep one night and wake up in a field?”

  “Some magic not summoned by me, whisked me away.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” said Celiba. “Do you care to enlighten as to what you were doing at the time you were whisked away?”