Oathbreaker

by Cara Witter

  Forty-six

  Jaeme sat in his room, a half-eaten plate of food beside him, looking over the illuminated copy of the ballads that he’d bought for Daniella and trying to compose the perfect words in his head.

  Daniella, I know things are complicated, but what matters most to me is us.

  Daniella, I love you.

  Be my wife, Daniella. I promise I’ll be a better husband than I am a bearer.

  Daniella—

  A knock came sharply on the door, and Jaeme sighed. He’d already discarded several more poetic openings. Flowery words felt ridiculous now, and he knew from experience how poorly they worked on Daniella. He wanted to do better by her. He wanted her to understand how he felt about her, but he wasn’t sure mere words could do it.

  He tucked the book into the top drawer of his desk and turned toward the door. “Come in.”

  He regretted those words instantly when Kenton appeared in the doorway.

  “What do you want?” Jaeme asked.

  Kenton looked in the direction of the dressing room. “Are you alone?”

  “Yeah, Daniella’s . . . out.” He wasn’t about to start confiding their problems in Kenton, of all people. “But don’t take that as leave to lecture me about my uncle.”

  Kenton exhaled loudly through his nostrils and pressed his lips together like he was trying very hard not to say something. Instead of lecturing, Kenton merely pulled a chair away from the wall and sank into it, rubbing his forehead. “Jaeme,” he said. “Where is Kotali?”

  Not about his uncle, then. It was something of a relief not to have to lie to Kenton’s face. Still, Jaeme wanted to yell at Kenton, to tell him to back off and leave him alone. He’d done it all before, and he’d known even then that he was being petulant. Gods, where was Kotali? “Kenton, believe me when I tell you that I haven’t the slightest fragment of an idea.”

  “You’re the only one who can do this,” Kenton said, his voice raising.

  “It’s not yet been a week,” Jaeme said. “Give me a chance to breathe.”

  Kenton balled his fists. “It took less than a day for Diamis to get to us in Foroclae, and I don’t care how well fortified your borders are, he’ll come for us here. We’re all doing our best, but you have to work with us. Saara and Nikaenor both did their part. You can’t expect the rest of us to—”

  Jaeme couldn’t bear to hear all this again. “I know! I am well aware that I’m a screw-up, okay? I haven’t done anything since the day we met that should prove to you otherwise.”

  Kenton paused and blinked, as if taken aback, and Jaeme couldn’t blame him. Even he was surprised at his words. “That’s not true,” Kenton said. “You helped Saara get into the palace at Tir Neren. It was because of you she was able to move within its walls unseen and escape the throne room to go after Nerendal. In Foroclae, you got Daniella and Sayvil out safely. You incurred bodily harm protecting them from the beasts in the swamp.”

  “They protected me,” Jaeme said. “Though I suppose I did incur bodily harm.” This didn’t make him feel any better.

  “Regardless,” Kenton said, “you’ve done a number of things since we met that have led me to believe you are capable. The one thing you haven’t done is find the Earthstone, and that’s the only one that no one can do but you.”

  “You’re wrong.” Jaeme hadn’t been aware of the surety with which he believed that until he spoke the words. Perhaps it was because he’d lied to Daniella, or because he was keeping his uncle’s secret even now, but Kotali had clearly abandoned him. “You must be wrong about me. I felt the call when I met Saara and Nikaenor, but not anymore. If I was ever the bearer of Kotali, the god must have changed his mind. And truly, Kenton. Who could blame him?”

  “No,” Kenton said. “You’re the bearer of Kotali. You can manipulate stone. You found the others after Perchaya put on the ring. You’re—”

  Jaeme stabbed a finger in Kenton’s direction. “You don’t even believe that!” he shouted. “You’ve had nothing but disdain for me since the day we met. Tell me, Kenton, do you really believe that a god chose me?”

  “Yes,” Kenton said simply.

  Jaeme blinked at him. “What?”

  “Yes. I really believe that Kotali chose you.”

  Jaeme sat back in his chair so hard that the legs scraped against the floor. “For the gods’ sakes, why?”

  “I don’t know,” Kenton said. “I wouldn’t have chosen you.”

  Jaeme rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Great. Well, I’m glad we had this chat. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “—but I can think of a number of reasons why Kotali might have disagreed with me.”

  Jaeme looked up at him. The anger was gone from Kenton’s face, and he regarded Jaeme calmly for once, and spoke without the razor edge in his voice. “Really,” Jaeme said.

  “Yes. It makes sense that Kotali would choose one of his knights. Perhaps he picked you because you’re one of the few who actually believes in things like honor and loyalty, instead of paying lip service to them.”

  Jaeme stared at Kenton. “You really think that.”

  “I do,” Kenton said. “You’re a pain in my ass, Jaeme. You don’t believe in the mission, and I know you’re only here for Daniella. You’ve said as much on several occasions. But you haven’t betrayed us. You hate me, and you could have turned me in at any city in the Five Lands and had me shipped back to Diamis, but you didn’t.”

  A pinprick of guilt stabbed at him at hearing Kenton speak of betrayal.But Kenton was right on one point—Jaeme could easily have rid himself of Kenton at any time. At least on the mainland, all he would have had to do was whisper in a guard’s ear that Kenton was a Drim, and he never would have seen him again.

  Except for when Kenton inevitably rematerialized with a blade to Jaeme’s throat. “I’d have to be an idiot to turn on you. And I’m not the knight with the most honor. If that was the concern, he should have chosen Hugh.”

  Kenton grimaced at that.

  “He’s a good man, you know,” Jaeme said. “She’d be happy with him.”

  “Also,” Kenton said, pointedly ignoring Jaeme’s statement, “Saara grew up in the same castle with Nerendal. Nikaenor lived closer to Mirilina than almost anyone else in Foroclae. It’s possible that the gods have to choose people nearby. Maybe their vision is limited. Maybe the transfer of power requires proximity. But whatever the case, since both bearers grew up near their stones, it stands to reason that you might have been chosen because you were born here in this castle. That you’re right, and Kotali is here.”

  Jaeme shook his head. “Nikaenor and Saara both heard their gods’ voices. They both knew where to look.”

  “Saara didn’t feel the pull strongly enough not to walk into the throne room for the fake,” Kenton said. “Clearly it’s not as cut and dry as it seems.”

  “But they found them. They knew. They couldn’t resist. Nikaenor even jumped in the damned ocean, for the gods’ sakes. Here I am in my home and all I can think about is making sure Daniella is okay, that she’s safe.”

  “See?” Kenton said. “Honorable. Perhaps by choosing you, Kotali is giving you an opportunity to restore that honor to your family line.”

  Jaeme froze. “What?”

  “I know about your father,” Kenton said. “Do you think I didn’t ask questions about you to my contacts back in Berlaith? Do you think I haven’t had my ear to the ground in the city about the reputation of your family, your uncle, you?”

  Jaeme groaned. The last thing he wanted from Kenton was a lecture about how he should have disclosed everything, how he shouldn’t have hidden his family’s past. “I don’t see that it’s any of your—”

  Kenton put his elbows on his knees. “I know what it’s like to lose your father. Even to people you’ve spent your life honoring.”

  Jae
me stared. He wondered for a moment if he hadn’t imagined this entire conversation.

  But yes, Kenton would, wouldn’t he? He’d served in the military of the man who’d murdered his parents. The only difference was that Kenton, when he’d found out the truth, had stopped.

  Kenton looked him in the eye. “Jaeme, I can’t tell you where the stone is. I can’t prove to you we’re in danger here beyond what you already know. But I know one thing, and it’s that you are the bearer of Kotali. There are prophecies written about you. I spent ten years reading text after text that discussed who you might be, where you might be from, what you might be like, what all of you might be like. And I’m telling you, what I’ve seen over the last few months blows all of those predictions away. You’re incredible people. Frustrating and obnoxious people, but gods-damned incredible as well.”

  “You don’t believe that,” Jaeme said quietly. “Not about me.”

  “You don’t believe it. But I do. Can you . . . can you just try?” He rolled his eyes, like he couldn’t believe any more than Jaeme could that he was saying this. “If not for me, then for Daniella. For her protection from her father. For your nation and their defense against Sevairn.” He was quiet for a moment. “For your family, and the Grisham legacy. For your father, or your uncle, wherever your loyalty lies. Can you please get off your ass and give it a go?”

  Jaeme couldn’t believe he was hearing this from Kenton, of all people. But he knew that Kenton believed in the quest. He’d sacrificed for ten years to find them, to make this happen, to get revenge. “I never thought I’d live to hear you say please,” Jaeme said. “Even if you did call me an ass in the same breath.”

  “You are an ass,” Kenton said. “A gods-damned chosen pain in the rear end. But we also need you.” Kenton sighed. “I need you.”

  Kenton didn’t look terribly pleased at having said that, but Jaeme was fairly sure that he meant it, if only because Kenton was utterly inept at not saying exactly what he meant. Jaeme had tried, at least as much as Saara and Nikaenor, and they’d just . . . known. But if Kenton had ideas, Jaeme would try them. “All right,” Jaeme said. “But only since you asked so nicely.”

  “If I’d known that was the secret, I might have led with that and spared us both the embarrassment.”

  Jaeme stood, rubbing his hands together. “Yes, well, let’s get started. If we sit here much longer, you’ll expect me to start praising your honor and integrity, and I think the castle might collapse under the weight of all the sap.”

  Kenton snorted. “I don’t know about integrity, but you have to admit I am persistent.”

  Jaeme laughed, and Kenton joined in and stood from his chair. “Come on,” he said to Jaeme. “Let’s go find your god.”

  Half an hour later, Jaeme wandered the halls of the castle, Kenton on one side and Nikaenor on the other.

  “Well?” Kenton asked. “Feel anything?”

  Jaeme focused, trying to feel pulled, the way he had when he first met Saara and Nikaenor. But no. Just as he had since he’d come to the castle, he felt nothing but empty. He’d almost believed Kenton’s speech in his bedroom, but here he was. Still useless. Still a disappointment. Still dooming the world with his inability to do what came so easily to the others.

  “Annoyed,” Jaeme said. “Embarrassed. And a little thirsty.”

  Kenton pursed his lips, but he didn’t comment. Jaeme never thought he’d say this, but at that moment, he admired Kenton’s restraint.

  “Maybe it would help if you held Mirilina,” Nikaenor said. “Except she’d kill you. Maybe if you held her in a cloth. Or if I held her out in front of us while you—”

  “Keep your voice down,” Kenton said. “And no, we are absolutely not wandering the halls of Castle Grisham with the gods-damned stone out in the open.”

  Jaeme agreed. The tournament might have officially ended with the duel and ball, but that didn’t mean all the noble guests of the castle and their retinue had left—most of them would still be here for a few days. And that was in addition to the usual castle staff and inhabitants.

  Nikaenor’s nose wrinkled. “Gods-blessed stone. She can hear you, you know.”

  “I stand by what I said,” Kenton said.

  Nikaenor put a hand on his bulging purse, looking offended.

  “You know someone’s going to try to rob you, thinking that’s coin,” Jaeme said. “The thief will be in for a rude awakening when he loses a finger.”

  “There are worse things to lose,” Kenton said. “Focus. Where do you want to be?”

  Jaeme paused in the center of the hallway between a pair of light charms in decorative iron sconces. He closed his eyes and tried to pay attention to what he felt, besides ridiculous, embarrassed, annoyed, and, honestly, thirsty.

  Okay, Kotali, he thought. Tell me where you are and put me out of my misery.

  If there was a response, Jaeme didn’t hear it. He opened his eyes.

  “Come on,” Kenton said. “You must feel like going somewhere.”

  Jaeme sighed and motioned down the corridor to a velvet-covered chair sitting beneath a stained-glass window depicting the Grisham crest. “That chair looks comfortable. I want to sit in it. Maybe Kotali’s stuck between the cushions. Want to check?”

  Without waiting for a response, Jaeme shuffled over to the chair and plunked himself in it. Are you even in the castle? he asked.

  Either the god was silent, or Jaeme was stone deaf.

  Kenton stood above him, looking like he was on the verge of losing patience again, and Jaeme couldn’t blame him. He wanted to smack his own face until he figured out how to do this thing that Saara and Nikaenor had both somehow managed to do effortlessly.

  “It’s not that I’m not trying,” Jaeme said. “I can’t do it.”

  “But Kotali can,” Nikaenor said. “You don’t have to do it on your own.”

  Jaeme looked up at Kenton. “I don’t even know if I believe in this god. That’s the truth.”

  Nikaenor looked startled, but Kenton just nodded calmly. “Well, I do,” he said. He motioned to Nikaenor. “And he does.” Kenton looked down at Jaeme, slumped in the chair. “Can you believe in that?”

  Jaeme wasn’t sure it worked like that, but he found himself nodding. “If you believe so much, maybe you should start praying.”

  “I did,” Kenton said. “And it led me to you.”

  When Jaeme’s two companions left him—Nikaenor to run an errand into town with Sayvil, and Kenton muttering something about needing to find Daniella—Jaeme continued to wander the halls of the castle.

  All right, Kotali, Jaeme thought. If you chose me, give me a sign.

  The halls remained silent, and Jaeme thought about continuing the prayer, but realized he should have started with Kotali’s long and formal title, parts of which Jaeme wasn’t even sure he remembered.

  He didn’t want to give up, so instead he did the only other thing he could think of and went to find the man who had lived in the castle for twice as many years as Jaeme himself. He found Greghor taking his post-lunch tea on the balcony above the formal garden. Below, the light charms that had hung in the shrubs during the ball were being carefully removed from their wires and either discarded or, for those that weren’t yet exhausted, placed gingerly into crates for future use.

  “Uncle,” Jaeme said. “May I speak with you?”

  Greghor smiled and motioned to the seat across the small iron table from him. “Please. Join me.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll call for a servant to bring another cup.”

  “No,” Jaeme said. “I’m fine, really. And I wanted to speak to you alone.”

  His uncle raised his eyebrows. “Really. Do we need to go somewhere more . . . private?”

  Jaeme probably should have been there to further discuss his uncle’s involvement with Diamis, but somehow, this managed t
o be more important. “No,” Jaeme said. “It’s not about that.”

  His uncle looked concerned. “About Daniella, then?”

  “No. I mean, I suppose, in a roundabout way. But no. It’s about something I’m trying to find.”

  Greghor set down his cup. “Have you lost something? Your rooms were locked while you were gone, though I did have them cleaned every few weeks so you wouldn’t—”

  “It’s not that. Just—just listen.”

  Greghor folded his hands in his lap and sat back in his chair, lips studiously shut.

  Jaeme took a deep breath. He still didn’t want his uncle to think him a fool, or worse, mad like his mother. And he very much didn’t want to give information his uncle might be forced to share with Diamis. But Diamis already knew of their quest, and Greghor had promised to protect Jaeme and Daniella from him. His uncle had shared a great deal of information with Jaeme when he hadn’t had to, and Jaeme hadn’t returned the favor. Besides, Greghor had lived in this castle for many more years than Jaeme. He’d grown up here, too. If Kotali was here, Jaeme had to hope that he’d seen something. “It’s about what I was looking for in the undercarriage of the castle.”

  “An artifact,” Greghor said. “From the days before the castle was built.”

  “Right. It’s—it’s a relic of Kotali.”

  Greghor looked stunned. “For Daniella.”

  Jaeme shook his head. “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy, so I said it was her idea. But I’m the one looking for it. I should have told you the truth.”

  Greghor shook his head. “There are a great many treasures in the castle, but I don’t know of any relic of Kotali.”

  “It’s probably hidden,” Jaeme said. “Locked away from the days of the Banishment. But maybe there’s a statue on the spot, or some runes on the wall marking the place—”

  “Or a false wall,” Greghor said.

  Jaeme’s breath caught. “Exactly. Have you—have you seen something like that?”

  “Yes,” Greghor said. “But before I tell you where, why don’t you tell me what this artifact is that you’re looking for.”