Tammy’s smile held no warmth and showed far too many teeth. “No, I just wanted to hear you say it. I know that it was all a lie. That you never cared about any of us. We were tools to be used and thrown away the moment we stopped being useful.”
“Then why come back here after so long? What do you want?”
Tammy eased back a little on the sword, noticing something she’d previously missed in his eyes. This time her grin was genuine. “It stings. After all this time, it still bothers you. That he stole from her and then lied to your face about it.” She laughed, amazed that she wasn’t the only one who had been carrying this around for so long. “You had no idea what was going on, right under your nose, and your pride wouldn’t allow it.”
“That smug little shit was an idiot,” snarled Don Lowell, finally showing his true face. It was ugly, bitter and barely human. “He deserved what happened to him for stealing from Dońa Jarrow. Who did he think he was?”
“That smug little shit did what you never could. You wouldn’t even dare.”
Don Lowell sneered. “He only managed it once and still got caught. So don’t pretend he was a genius. He just got lucky, that’s all.”
“Then you have no regrets?”
“None. At all.”
Tammy nodded thoughtfully. “That’s what I expected you to say.”
“So what happens now, Guardian Baker? Are you going to arrest me? We both know I’ll not stay behind bars for long. And if, by some miracle from the Maker, you manage to get a witness to come forward for my crimes, I’ll be extremely comfortable in prison. I have a lot of friends inside. Whether I’m sleeping in there or out here, nothing would change. My business would continue as normal.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not here in uniform. That’s why no one saw my face and I came alone. I’m here for you.”
Don Lowell regarded her with a cool expression. “I’ve seen many killers over the years, and you don’t—” he trailed off, staring at the sword buried in his chest.
Tammy applied more pressure, driving the sword deeper into his torso and then out of his back, pinning him to the bed. The sheets began to pool with blood and his pale face turned white. He tried to speak a few times but only managed to cough up some blood.
Tammy watched him dispassionately as he gasped his final breaths. His breathing slowed and then suddenly stopped, one final, long wheeze hissing from between his dry old lips. She spat on the corpse and walked out of the room.
Kovac jumped when she opened the front door, reaching for his sword, but then relaxed and heaved a sigh of relief. “Done?”
“It’s over, and that means it’s time for you to leave the city.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that you feel nothing,” he said.
“You shouldn’t come back here. It won’t be safe.”
“Tell me that you don’t care,” said Kovac.
“I can’t,” she admitted, struggling to stay calm. “You know how I feel, but that’s why you have to leave. If you stay, they can hurt me. Please, leave Perizzi and never return.”
It hurt. It hurt as much as the pain she’d been carrying around for all these years. Every part of her ached. Her instincts told her to do or say something. Anything. Instead she remained silent and still, trying to fix in her mind every part of him. The way he moved. The way he smelled. His laugh and every annoying little habit and joke they’d ever shared. The horror of their time together in Voechenka and the passion of their long nights in bed. For now all of the memories of their time together were fresh, but she knew they would eventually fade.
Tammy turned and walked away, forcing herself to keep moving. She lost track of time but part of her at least seemed to know where she was going, as she came back to herself outside the front doors of Unity Hall.
With a heavy heart she followed familiar corridors until she reached the Old Man’s outer office. Rummpoe was absent and the room was dark but light filled the Khevassar’s office. As ever he sat behind his desk, writing a report with three oil lanterns providing enough light to imitate a sunny day.
She went into his office and sat down without being given permission. He glanced up briefly, finished what he was writing and then set it aside. Reaching into his drawer he produced a dusty old yellow bottle of something that was half empty and two glasses. He splashed a healthy amount into each glass and passed one across the desk. Tammy downed the spirit and waited, wanting to feel it burn and match the hurt inside. Instead she was disappointed that the whisky was remarkably smooth and rich in flavour.
“I keep this for very special occasions,” he said, refilling her glass. “The bottle must be thirty years old.”
“That business with Don Lowell. It’s over.”
“I thought so,” he said, no doubt reading far more from her body language and expression than she realised. He didn’t ask for any details for which she was grateful.
“I’m ready, but I have one question. What will happen to my family?”
“They’ll never need for money. In fact, just the other day they were contacted by a distant relative, Uncle Jon, who recently retired after being a carpenter for forty years. He wants to live out the remainder of his years close to his family here in Perizzi.”
“Is that so?” she said with a faint smile.
“Apparently.”
“Why carpentry?” asked Tammy.
“I dabbled in my youth,” he said. “Unfortunately Uncle Jon doesn’t have any children of his own, so he wants to share his wealth with his remaining family.”
“Thank you.” It seemed so inadequate a thing to say but he dismissed it with a wave. “Do you actually have any family of your own?” she asked.
The Old Man hesitated before answering. It must have been a long time since anyone had asked him that question. She wondered how often he thought about his old life and who he used to be. “As it happens, no. They all died.”
“Do you regret it?” she asked, waving a hand at the office. “Giving it all up for this?”
The Khevassar thought about it for a long time before shaking his head. “Many times over the years I’ve wondered if I made the right decision. In the bleakest years, when hope and justice seemed laughable concepts, my faith wavered. But the wheel always turns and after forty years in this job, and everything I’ve accomplished, I don’t regret my decision. I’ve not only been a part of history, I’ve changed the shape of events, and, in time, you will too.”
“So what happens now?” she asked, unsure of how to proceed.
“Now, we measure you up for a new uniform, and from tomorrow you will be the Khevassar.”
“That’s it? There’s no ceremony?” asked Tammy.
“No. I become dear old Uncle Jon and you will be the Khevassar. After that every Guardian will follow your orders.”
“What will you do?”
“That’s a very good question. Right now, I’ve no idea, but I’m not going anywhere just yet. I’ll stick around for a while to help with the transition.” The Old Man got up from behind the desk and gestured for her to stand as well. He moved to one side of his chair and waited.
Tammy took the hint and sat down behind her new desk, looking around the office from this side of the table for the first time.
She’d barely leaned back in the chair when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A young novice appeared at the door and then paused, glancing between the Old Man and Tammy.
“Report,” she said, barking at the young man.
His discipline kicked in and he addressed her. “There’s a man at the front gate seeking asylum. He says he has important information to share and asks to speak with you directly.”
Tammy glanced at the Old Man and raised an eyebrow. “Does it ever stop?”
“No, not really.”
“Did the man give his name?” she said, addressing the novice.
“Torran Habreel.”
Tammy took a deep breath. “All right, send him in.”
CHAPTER 37
For a brief moment, before she was fully awake, Wren thought she was still in bed in the dormitory at the Red Tower. She stretched and dry leaves rustled all around, dispelling the illusion. Her bed was a patch of dry ground on the forest floor and all around her other students were slowly waking up. The smell of toasting bread tugged at her nose, making her stomach rumble. It had been many hours since she’d last eaten and that was after almost a full day of walking.
Despite Garvey’s desire to walk them non-stop until nightfall, probably to death, he’d been forced to relent when students started collapsing from exhaustion. During the afternoon they’d paused several times for a rest but it was never for very long. Her calf muscles ached this morning and the bottom of her thighs from going up and down hills. Digging her thumbs into the muscles she tried to ease away some of the stiffness.
If she’d managed to master any ability at healing she could have instantly removed the pain. Now she wasn’t sure if she’d ever have the opportunity to learn how in the future.
Teachers moved around the camp tending to students, helping the youngest with breakfast and generally doing their best to maintain some discipline. So far there had been no real issues. Once they’d seen the Red Tower burning fear had kept them moving, but now it was a new day and the danger seemed far away. If they had not been planning to meet up with the rest of the students, Wren suspected there would’ve been a lot of complaints. No one wanted to be left alone with Garvey.
He stood on a rise above their camp, looking back along their path through the trees. The Red Tower was no longer visible but he was staring intently. She knew so little about his magical ability or his Talents. Perhaps he had a way of seeing beyond the forest and was watching the path behind for signs of pursuit. Apparently satisfied that they were safe, at least for the time being, he returned to camp in search of breakfast. Everyone gave him a wide berth, even the teachers, who spoke sparingly to him and only when required. Any attempt at conversation was rebuffed with silence or a blunt retort that kept him isolated. Wren wondered what had made him this way and if he had any friends. It seemed unlikely. Perhaps after so much time alone he preferred his own company.
“Pack up. We leave in an hour,” announced Garvey. Everyone in camp paused in what they were doing, then started gathering their belongings.
“We can’t do this every day,” complained Tianne, stuffing her blanket into her bag. “He’ll walk us all to death.”
“We don’t have to,” said Danoph. “We should be meeting the others later today.”
“What if they don’t show up? What if we’re stuck with him?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper even though Garvey was on the far side of their camp. All three of them turned to stare at him. He’d already packed his belongings and was now waiting for the others as he munched on a piece of toast.
Before the hour was up everyone was ready and all the campfires had been doused. There were no words of encouragement. No praise for doing well to have made it this far. Garvey simply walked out of camp and they all moved to follow. Tianne and a few others glared at his back but that was as far as it went. After all, he was still a member of the Grey Council. Wren couldn’t understand what made him more suitable than some of the other teachers she’d met to deserve such an honoured role.
He was incredibly powerful, but if she’d learned anything during her time at the Red Tower it was that strength wasn’t everything. Magic could be deployed as a blunt weapon but it could also be used in a complex and subtle fashion. With a slight weave and a weak connection to the Source a mage could heal the body of almost any wound. That seemed the opposite of everything Garvey stood for. She doubted he even understood the meaning of the word subtle. Her growing resentment fuelled her for a while but eventually it too faded.
By midday the pain had returned to Wren’s weary legs and when they stopped to eat she flopped down on the ground. Around her there were a lot of tired and worried faces. The students were beginning to realise this was their new life. They would not be going back to classes at the Red Tower, where they were fed three times a day and slept in clean sheets. The novelty of being outdoors was starting to wear off and uncertainty about their future loomed in the minds of them all.
The hardship was getting to some more than others and she heard a few complaining about the conditions. The youngest didn’t really understand and, despite reassurance from the teachers, she could see they were scared. When Garvey returned from the edge of their camp with the other two members of the Grey Council beside him there was an audible sigh of relief. Absent smiles returned and the atmosphere changed. Finally, here were two people the students could trust and rely on.
The other students came over the rise behind them and there were many small reunions as people met up with friends again. Although they had only been apart a few hours there was palpable relief that all three groups had made it this far without being attacked. So far it seemed as if none of the groups had been pursued by those who had attacked the Red Tower. It made Wren wonder what had happened to those who’d been left behind and how many of them had escaped.
Balfruss and Eloise moved about the camp for a while, speaking to individual students, checking in with teachers and sometimes using their magic to heal injuries and ease tired limbs. When Eloise approached her, Wren felt herself involuntarily smiling back and some of the tension eased from her shoulders.
“Gather around,” said Eloise, beckoning everyone closer. She and the other Sorcerers stood on a slab of rock so that everyone could see them. Wren felt a brief surge of power as Eloise’s voice was amplified so that they could all hear her. “All of you are now facing a difficult decision. The Red Tower is gone, perhaps for ever, but your magic still exists. You still need to be taught how to control it, and if you want, how to use it to help other people.”
Behind her Garvey sneered, and Wren saw some of the older students mirror his scorn of that idea.
“There are a few options,” said Balfruss, picking up where Eloise had left off. “Each of us has an opinion on what you should do, but we will not decide for you. We will explain the choices and then you will have some time to make up your own minds.”
“I have had regular meetings with Jhanidi monks,” said Eloise.
“I told you,” said Tianne, nudging Wren in the ribs.
“They are warrior mages who live in the desert kingdoms in the far east. They have schools similar to the Red Tower, and if you want to continue with your studies then there is a place among them for each of you. Several teachers and I will also be going, so you will not be alone among strangers. A ship is waiting not far from here to take us east.”
“They knew this was going to happen,” said Wren, mostly to herself, but Tianne and Danoph overheard her.
“What do you mean?” asked Tianne.
“Why else would they have met with the Jhanidi weeks ago? They knew the Red Tower was at risk. They planned for this day. That’s why everyone was so calm yesterday.”
“Trouble has been brewing for a while,” said Danoph. “The problems with Seekers and the accidental deaths.”
She still wasn’t convinced. “Maybe, but I think they’re hiding something.”
“Then what happens?” one of the older girls asked Eloise in a loud voice.
“We hope that by the time you complete your training, the situation here will be different and you can return to the west.” Eloise was doing her best not to scare anyone, but neither was she prepared to lie. The situation was dire and it could take years for real change to take effect.
“And if we can’t come back?” pressed the girl.
“Mages are highly respected members of society in the desert kingdoms. They can command a high price for their services,” said Eloise. That seemed to placate the student for now, but she still looked angry.
“The other choice is to remain,” said Balfruss. “Those of you who are old enough can move to another country and live an ordinary
life. Become part of a community in a town or village, somewhere that you’ve never visited before. But it would mean forsaking your magic and never using it ever again.”
So far neither choice was particularly appealing to Wren. She wanted to continue with her studies, but she didn’t want to live in the desert kingdoms for several years. It felt as if she would just be running away from the problems here in the west. The situation would not resolve itself and more children were being born all the time with the ability to embrace the Source. What would happen to them without the Red Tower? Without the Seekers who would test them and teach them control? Without the Red Tower there would be more accidental deaths, not fewer. Running away from the problem and hoping that it went away made no sense to her.
Equally, the idea of burying her magic and living somewhere quiet to avoid detection was not one she relished. For some students it would be possible to return to their homeland and live in another region away from former friends and family. It would not be possible for her to do the same thing in Drassia. Family ties and communities were much more intertwined, so that meant living in another country in the west.
Moving to Yerskania was a possibility, as it had the most diverse population in the west, but, even so, to give up her magic after only just scratching the surface of what could be done with it felt like a step backwards. It felt like defeat.
“The risks are clear,” Balfruss was saying. “You will be alone and without protection. As an outsider it will take you a few years to feel at home, but it is possible, as long as you suppress your magic. I know some of you came to the Red Tower because you didn’t have a choice. While you cannot return home, you can have a similar life to the one you had before.”
She’d met several students who regarded their magic as a curse. Any hopes and dreams about the future had been shattered the instant their ability had manifested. The Seeker had ripped them away from everyone they knew and loved and they could never go back. Now they were being offered a second chance to have the kind of life they had always dreamed about. For some it would be too good an opportunity to miss and the only thing they had to give up was something they despised.
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