by Lisa Shearin
“Playing with the Soul Thief is dangerous,” he chided. “I would not want you to damage yourself prematurely. I have need of you later. I agree with you, games should be enjoyable.” His attention fixed on Piaras, and his smile spread, fangs clearly visible. “A hatchling nightingale. The power in your song was unexpected, but hardly unwelcome.”
Mychael Eiliesor circled off to the left, putting himself firmly between me and Piaras and the Khrynsani grand shaman. With his Guardians in the forest all around us, he probably wasn’t too concerned with us escaping.
“You would have done better to have remained in your embassy,” the elven Guardian told the goblin. “As would your king.”
“Our quarry has been as elusive as she is desirable,” Nukpana said, glancing at me. “Like you, I have been forced to seek her out.” One side of the goblin’s lips quirked upward as if from a private joke. “What are the odds? The two of us competing for the attentions of the same fair lady.”
“There is no competition.” Eiliesor’s voice was low and intense, and I felt his power building. So did the amulet. The slaughter in the forest around us was nothing compared to what the spellsinger had ready to unleash.
“Are you that confident in your success?” the goblin said. “Listen all around you. I do not hear many human or elven voices.”
I could see Eiliesor’s profile, and caught the slightest hint of a smile.
“You’re right, those screams are goblin.”
“Then we should hurry to conclude our business,” Nukpana said, completely unruffled. “Mistress Benares, you have something that belongs to me. I hired your human employee to recover it, but my attempts to retrieve it have been plagued by unexpected complications.” A hint of fang again glimmered from a slow smile. “Complications that for the most part have been eliminated.”
Simon Stocken. Nigel Nicabar. Me. Piaras, for standing next to me.
“You presume much, Primaru Nukpana,” Eiliesor said. “Such as ownership. The beacon is a Conclave artifact. That ownership has not changed—nor will it.”
“Ownership is possession,” the goblin said, his black eyes lingering on me.
Both Nukpana and Eiliesor were suddenly closer. I hadn’t seen either one of them move.
The elf’s eyes narrowed. “That’s far enough.”
“On the contrary, Paladin Eiliesor, I’ll be going much farther.”
I knew what was about to happen. Sometimes a girl doesn’t mind being fought over. This wasn’t one of those times. I was in no condition to fight my own battles right now, but I wasn’t about to stick around to become someone’s spoils of war.
Mychael Eiliesor didn’t move; he just dropped the glamour that had kept his power masked. The air around him rippled like the surface of deep water in the wake of something large just below the surface, something dangerous. The elf’s magic reached Sarad Nukpana. The goblin flinched. If you blinked, you’d have missed it. I didn’t blink, and I didn’t miss it.
I wasn’t the only one who sensed it. I was also certain Mychael Eiliesor had no illusions about who and what he was dealing with.
“Take the boy and go.”
Eiliesor’s voice was calm—and inside my head. Piaras was as transfixed on the scene before us as I was. I wasn’t about to wait for the Guardian to change his mind. I began backing away, pulling Piaras with me. I was sure Mychael Eiliesor could take care of himself. You didn’t get to be paladin if you couldn’t. I was in no condition to take care of anyone right now, and it wasn’t just me who was in danger. I had Piaras to think of.
“Go. I can deal with this.”
I hesitated a moment longer, then we ran.
Chapter 13
We found our way out of The Ruins at the south end of the Sorcerers District near the canal at Rowan Street. It wasn’t close to where I wanted to be, but since what I wanted most was to be out of The Ruins, I wasn’t going to quibble about the details.
The streets were deserted, which I expected for both the hour and section of town. Rowan Street was largely residential, and the residents were asleep. I would like to have been asleep in my bed, but for the moment I was just grateful to be breathing.
Piaras and I were doing our fair share of that. Once I got my bearings—and my legs back under me—the final sprint through The Ruins was uneventful, but we were both more than a little winded. Running, combined with multiple near-death experiences, will do that to you.
Once over the bridge separating The Ruins from the District, we quickly crossed Rowan Street and stopped well out of the lamplight next to a vacant townhouse. We needed a moment to catch our breath, but the last thing I wanted to do was set off anyone’s house wards.
“We can’t go home, can we?” Piaras asked. From his tone, he knew the answer to that one as well as I did.
“Not yet. We’re not far from Phaelan’s ship. We’ll go there first. I’ll have him send word to Garadin. I need to talk to him. We’ll also let Tarsilia know that we’re safe.”
“But we’re not safe.”
I got the feeling Piaras really wanted me to tell him he was wrong. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that.
“Safe is relative,” I told him. “We’re not within a mile of Sarad Nukpana or anyone named Mal’Salin. That’ll have to do for now.”
I knew what was hanging around my neck. Now I needed to know how to get rid of it, without it or anyone else getting rid of me. Mychael Eiliesor was best qualified to tell me how. He would be looking for me, but I was going to find him first. Enough was enough.
Piaras didn’t say anything else, but I could virtually hear the wheels turning in his head. He had done a lot of growing up tonight. You didn’t get to choose the events that boosted you into adulthood. If you were lucky, it was an event that in the future would trigger pleasant memories. If you weren’t lucky, you got nightmares. What I said next might keep the awakening-to-your-own-screams part to a minimum for Piaras. No doubt he was trying to make sense of everything he had seen tonight—including me. But I thought I owed him the assurance that, unlike the things that had attacked us, I wasn’t a monster. It’d be nice if I could believe it myself.
I wanted to ask Piaras about what he’d done to the Magh’Sceadu, or what he’d tried to do. It was a repelling spell, something every magic user should know for their own protection, but it was in goblin and Piaras had done it very well. Almost too well. I wanted to be sure it had been either Tarsilia or Garadin who had taught it to him, but I decided it would be better not to bring that up right now. The less Piaras dwelled on what had almost happened to us, the better.
That brought up something I wanted to forget completely.
You have your father’s eyes.
Suddenly, a cloaked and hooded figure came running around the end of the next block. This time of the night, anyone in that big of a hurry couldn’t have been up to any good. He spotted us immediately, and Rowan Street really didn’t offer any places to hide.
The man, or whatever, had come from the direction of the outer city, not The Ruins. That was one point in his favor, though I wasn’t ready to award him any more. I stood my ground, and Piaras did likewise. We had more than had our fill of cloaked and hooded figures, and were sick, quite literally, of running. Besides, there was only one of him. After Nukpana’s pet shadow monsters, I felt able to deal with anything one lone figure could dish out. And if magic wasn’t enough, there were always my favorites—fists, knees, or steel. I drew my ill-gotten knives. I was armed and ready. He might as well know it.
The figure stopped about ten feet away from us and threw back his hood.
“I thought you two would be happier to see me,” Garadin said.
When finally I found my voice, it was a little higher than usual. “Are you trying to get yourself skewered? Don’t run at people like that!”
Garadin went to Piaras first and enfolded him in a crushing hug. I still had bare blades in my hands, so I guess I couldn’t fault his first choice. I sheathed them.
“How could I not find you?” My godfather gave me the same bone-crushing hug. “I’m surprised you two didn’t wake up the entire District.” He held me at arms length and gave me an accusing look. “You took the amulet off again, didn’t you?”
“Not exactly. By the way, we can add a couple of names to the list of people who want this thing. Chigaru Mal’Salin is one of them.”
That tidbit surprised Garadin.
“Piaras and I were his guests for the evening,” I said. “He told me what the amulet is and what it does. We’d still be there, but we didn’t want to outstay our welcome, so we left. The prince thought we were being rude and invited us back.”
“His invitation involved swords and crossbows,” Piaras clarified.
“And I ran into Sarad Nukpana again,” I continued to Garadin, who still looked a little stunned. “He has his new pet king with him. I’ll give you all the details, but we might want to go somewhere less public first.”
Phaelan’s ship was moored in the deepest part of the lagoon. Though Mermeia had ample deepwater docks, Phaelan had exchanged his dock in Whitaker Creek for a mooring after our encounter at Nigel’s. He valued his ship and his crew, and always said he felt safer surrounded by water. I thought it was a good idea then. I thought it was an even better idea now. Anybody can walk down a wooden dock; no one I knew could walk on water.
Oddly enough, my fear of water didn’t extend to a fear of being on a ship. Boats were another matter. Boats were small. Boats could tip over. To me, a ship was like a big wooden island. As a general rule, islands didn’t sink. I applied the same rule to ships. I knew ships could sink, but since one had yet to sink under me, I saw no reason to change my rule.
Garadin went to arrange transportation while Piaras and I waited hidden behind a stack of crab pots awaiting repair. Drake’s Landing was home to the majority of Mermeia’s fishermen, and was bustling and noisy as the boats were coming in from a night of fishing. There was more than enough controlled chaos going on to hide a pair of newly fugitive elves.
The sunrise was still hours away. I had seen the sunrise yesterday and had hoped to avoid being awake for it today. Now I was just grateful to be alive.
“Some of Maira’s sugar knots would be nice right now,” Piaras said wistfully.
From his uncertain glance, food wasn’t all Piaras had on his mind. He just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to talk about.
“Sugar knots would be good,” I agreed, looking out over the harbor. Part of me was perfectly willing to wait for Piaras to bring up the subject in his own time; the other part just wanted to get it over with. I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t understand what had happened to me either, so I certainly wasn’t qualified to explain it to anyone else. But once we got out to the Fortune, I was going to be explaining it to Garadin, or at least trying to, so I might as well start practicing now.
Piaras beat me to it. Patience wasn’t high on the list of teenage virtues. It wasn’t at the top of mine, either.
“Are you all right?”
His voice was quiet and the question tentative, as if he already knew the answer, but didn’t really want to hear it. He wasn’t inquiring about my health. He wanted to know if the Raine who had come out of The Ruins was the same Raine who had gone in. It was a good question. I wished I knew the answer.
“I don’t know.”
He just stood there, looking at me with those big brown eyes, and in one terrible moment, I thought he was going to cry. Psychotic goblin brothers, Khrynsani shamans, various creatures of the night, even Sarad Nukpana—those I could take. What I could not take was Piaras going to pieces on me. At this point, I’d probably join him.
I waved my hands frantically. “No, no. Don’t cry.” I blinked back misties of my own. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and I don’t want to cry.”
Piaras didn’t cry, but he took a shuddering breath, which was just as bad. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten myself caught, none of this would have happened.” His voice was on the verge of breaking. “We’d both be home right now, and you wouldn’t have had to use…” He gestured vaguely and helplessly at where the beacon rested beneath my shirt. “…that thing, and…”
I was going to put a stop to this right now, before the salty sting in my eyes went any further.
“That thing’s the reason we’re still alive. I don’t know what happened to me, but it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, except maybe a nine-hundred-year-old dead Guardian who couldn’t keep track of his own necklace. But he’s not around for us to yell at.”
Piaras sniffed, then wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. I resisted the urge to do the same.
He swallowed, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do. Contact Mychael Eiliesor and find some way to give him this thing. If he wants it, he can have it. Guarding the Saghred is his job, so I’m going to help him get on with it.”
“Do you think you can trust him?”
“I can’t trust any of the others who think they should have it. They all want me dead, or worse. He doesn’t seem to. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
Piaras sniffed. I sniffed.
I heard Garadin’s low whistle. I peered around the crabpots. The Fortune’s dinghy was pulling up to the dock.
Saved by the boat.
Two of Phaelan’s crew rowed us out to the Fortune. The dinghy had a section covered by a tarp. Piaras and I slipped under the tarp unnoticed by the fishermen and unseen by any goblin.
The short trip out to where Phaelan’s ship was moored gave me a few minutes to think. Those thoughts kept coming back to the Guardian. Mychael Eiliesor could have forceably taken the amulet from me as soon as he’d found us in The Ruins, and in my condition, there wouldn’t have been much I could have done to stop him. He didn’t. What he did do was put himself between me and Piaras and the danger of Sarad Nukpana and told us to go. He wanted the amulet, but he wasn’t going to endanger our lives to get it. In short, he was being the perfect paladin and gentleman. I felt a little smile coming on. It wasn’t what I’d expected, but it was something I could definitely get used to.
We got out to the ship without incident.
For the first time tonight, I felt safe. As with most of his possessions, Phaelan didn’t bother with flash—with the Fortune, fast and nimble was all he wanted. She delivered both. She also delivered forty guns, and men and elves who knew how to use them.
Aeryk Galir, Phaelan’s first mate, met us as we boarded on the port side. It faced the barrier islands, well away from any curious eyes.
“The Captain doesn’t get many visitors at this hour,” Aeryk said, grinning as he helped me over the side. “He was surprised to hear you were coming aboard.”
“This wasn’t exactly planned. I won’t be staying long. It wouldn’t be safe for me or anyone else here.”
“Whatever trouble’s after you, ma’am, we can handle it.”
“Right now I can’t handle the trouble I have after me, and I’m not going to make my problems anyone else’s. I plan to be gone before anyone knows I’m here.”
Aeryk shrugged, then nodded. He’d had firsthand experience of the trouble I occasionally managed to attract, and he wasn’t going to give me any arguments.
“The Captain asked me to have you all join him in his cabin.”
We went below. Phaelan was at the table in the center of the cabin, the remains of some kind of meal in front of him. With Phaelan’s night owl tendencies, who knew which meal it was supposed to be. I crossed the cabin in three strides and greeted my cousin with a big hug. Phaelan wasn’t the touchy-feely type, and normally I respected his personal space, but things hadn’t been normal for days so I felt entitled.
Piaras had to duck his head to get through the door, and my cousin’s
smile vanished when he saw the young elf’s bruised face. The color hadn’t faded, but at least the swelling had gone down.
“What happened?” Phaelan’s voice promised many bad things for whoever had caused that bruise.
“Nothing good,” I told him. My voice suddenly sounded as exhausted as I felt. I think it was the sight of somewhere to sit, and no one standing between me and there, waiting to kill me. I pulled up a chair and sat down, my muscles tight and protesting from a night of running and other less healthy activities. “I should probably start from when I left home yesterday morning.”
Phaelan ordered food and clean clothes brought for both of us. Mine were still more or less in one piece, but the smell left something to be desired after the dunking in The Ruins’ pond, so I took my cousin up on his offer. When I’d changed, I told them all about my day—starting with my talk with Janek at Nigel’s townhouse, then to my spotting of A’Zahra Nuru and subsequent meeting with Tam. I finished with Ocnus’s setup and how Piaras and I had spent our night.
By the time I stopped talking, Piaras had excused himself from the table and stretched out on Phaelan’s bunk. He was now sound asleep. I was hard pressed to keep my own eyes open.
Garadin had his elbows on the table, his forehead resting against the palms of his upraised hands. It was a thinking position he used when there was more of a problem than information to solve it. Glad he agreed with me.
“In a twisted way, it being a beacon makes sense,” he said. He lifted his head and leaned back in his chair. “It would certainly explain its popularity—and yours.”
“Nothing makes sense to me, least of all why it picked me to attach itself to,” I told him. “Guardians guard the Saghred. I’m not a Guardian. I’m only a passable sorceress.”
Apparently I was also my father’s daughter, and while I wanted to talk to Garadin about it, I thought I’d wait until we were alone.
“The beacon doesn’t seem to mind,” Phaelan noted.
“Well, I do.”
“It doesn’t seem to care what you think, either.”
