Brother Saldus scurried for his horse as fast as his bony legs would carry him. He didn’t seem to need help mounting this time, and as he galloped after his fellow brothers, the rest of the villagers and Brother Lijen followed him.
The wind died almost as suddenly as it had appeared, and in the absence of all the people and horses, a leaden silence fell on the clearing. Tas groaned, closed his eyes, and dropped to his knees.
“Tas? Tas, are you all right?” Girik asked as he knelt at Tas’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What did you do?” Tas whispered hoarsely.
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Girik replied.
When Tas opened his eyes, all he could read was worry and confusion on Girik’s face, no guilt. He hadn’t sent Bayor.
“Was that wind you?” Tas asked, turning to Lyuc.
Yan stood close to Lyuc, holding his hand and looking worried, but Lyuc’s stern gaze was firmly fixed on Tas. “No,” he answered curtly.
“I don’t understand what happened,” Girik said. “Bayor has never done anything like that before, and then the wind and the yelling and the light. What’s going on, Tas?”
He sounded so lost and shaken, Tas wanted to be the one to reassure him, but his feet had been kicked out from under him, literally and figuratively, so he had no comfort to give. He eyed the box in his hands like it was a snake. Fairly certain he already knew the answer, he pulled Singer out of the box, held him in his palm, and asked, “Are Sanerku and Yeresun awake now too?”
“Yes!” Tasnerek’s response was joyful, and Tas tried not to resent him for it.
“What will happen?”
“I do not know. That depends on your people, not mine. Awake, we have free will, but we are no longer truly alive. We are bodiless, bound to our crystals until the day our duty is done and we are set free to go to the Beyond.”
“You heard me talking to Lyuc. You know what that might mean for my people.”
“Your people took something that did not belong to them. I am sorry that you have become so dependent on us, but we did not remain in this world as we are for the purpose of serving this one kingdom and one religion. We remain to sing until the world is healed. That is our sacrifice. That is all. What your people have done with us and in our name would make me shudder to think about, if I still had my body.”
“Tas?” Girik whispered worriedly, gripping his shoulder tighter.
“The stones are awake,” Tas said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I don’t know what my brothers will do now or what that means for Rassa.”
“I’m sorry, Brother Tasnerek,” Lyuc said quietly. “I tried to give them the time I promised.”
Tas shook his head. “They wouldn’t have allowed you to leave here with Singer or the other stone, not without a fight.”
“There is still time. We can go after them and take the other two stones before they wake any more,” Lyuc said.
Tas’s stomach plummeted, fearing the wizard would force the issue as he had with Singer. Anger surged in him at his own helplessness to stop any of this from happening. Except he hadn’t been helpless. Brother Saldus had given him the power to change the course of events, and he hadn’t used it.
“You made the right choice,” Singer said.
“How would you know what choices I made? You were in the box.”
“I may not have been awake for it, but you and I have been bonded for a long time. I know your song, even if it is sometimes discordant to me. I see the knife and the wizard, the hound and the wind, like faint echoes of melody in your mind. Your song is the only thing you take with you to the Beyond. You would not wish to taint it with something so ugly.”
“Instead, I will have to live with the repercussions of what I have done, or what I didn’t, and hope they aren’t far worse.”
“Tell Faelir not to go after the others.”
“What?”
“Tell him. He said himself that the Rift has not closed. I can feel it still. Our job is not done, and it may be some time before it is. I have had time to think, and as much as it would bring me joy, I should not return to the Riftlands yet, and neither should the others. We are vulnerable, separated from the whole. We cannot be left there alone. Someone else could easily come along and simply take us again. And if we are all together, even with a human as powerful as Faelir, we are vulnerable too. At least this way, we are contained within the borders of a single kingdom but have many protecting us… and it will give your people the time you said you wanted.”
“You would do that?”
“I am not entirely without compassion for your plight. Now that I have had a chance to sing with others of my kind, I’ve received varying points of view. If we have Faelir’s word he will come for the rest when the time is right, we will attempt to sing to the ones awakened today before they are too far away. We will tell them to wait and to be patient. We will remain with you and Faelir until it is time, and we will collect the others only then.”
“I’m not staying with Lyuc.”
“He could teach you much. His song can be… disagreeable at times, but he possesses a great deal of knowledge you could find useful.”
“No.”
“Then where will you go?”
“Lyuc, Singer says he wants you to leave the others where they are.”
Lyuc raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Tas sighed and grimaced guiltily. “I know I’ve given you reason not to trust me, but I’m telling the truth. He says it is better for the rest to stay where they are until nearer the time they can be freed. Just, please, don’t go after them.”
After studying Tas for a few moments with pursed lips, Lyuc slowly nodded. “I would like to have further discussion with you and your stone very soon.”
With a relieved sigh, Tas also nodded.
Gods, he was tired. He could barely remember what it felt like not to be tired.
“Tas?” Girik murmured hesitantly. “What’s going on? What happened?”
Shoving weariness aside, Tas took Girik’s hand and squeezed it before climbing to his feet. “Are we safe here for now?” Tas asked, turning to Lyuc. Lyuc would understand the multiple layers to that question.
“I don’t think any of us will need to make a run for it,” Lyuc replied. “But we shouldn’t stay another night here. Yan and I will begin packing up camp. Bryn, will you follow our former guests’ trail to make sure they’re gone?”
Without a word, Bryn shifted into a black crow again and shot into the air in the direction the party had fled.
“What you and Girik do is up to you, Brother,” Lyuc continued, his face an unreadable mask.
Tas swallowed and nodded. After hanging Singer around his neck, he set the box with the other stone in it on the ground and reached for Girik’s hand again.
“Let’s take a walk.”
With Bayor trailing behind them, Tas led them out of the clearing and into the shadows of the woods. Not far up the stream from the clearing, they found several large boulders along the bank that were big enough to sit on. Tas lowered his weary body onto one and simply listened to the burbling of the water over the rocks. Scattered sunlight sparkled along the water’s surface, temporarily easing some of the tightness in his chest. How could anyone not feel serene in a place bathed in so much of the gods’ artistry?
Girik was as kind and generous as ever. He allowed Tas his moment of peace, despite having every right to an explanation.
“Thank you,” Tas murmured finally.
“For what?”
“For… everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here reminding me of what a good man is. I may yet live to regret the decisions I’ve made, but at least I can say I haven’t lost sight of who I am. Even if I’ve betrayed everyone else, I haven’t betrayed myself. I suppose that must be something.”
Frowning, Girik moved to sit next to Tas on his boulder. Having Girik’s warmth beside him helped.
“I don’t understand,�
�� Girik said. “What happened out there wasn’t your fault. You haven’t betrayed anyone. If anything, I should shoulder some of the blame because it was my hound who knocked the box out of Lyuc’s hand. I still don’t know what got into him. I swear he’s never done anything like that before.”
Grimacing, Tas lifted his head and met Girik’s gaze. He didn’t want to change the way Girik looked at him, but he wouldn’t hide from the truth either. Girik deserved at least that much.
Haltingly, Tas told him everything Girik couldn’t have witnessed on his own, from his whispered conversation with Brother Saldus, to the charge the brother had given him, to his discussion with Singer after. Thankfully, the stone remained silent on Tas’s chest so he could get through his confession without any interruptions.
“But you didn’t do it,” Girik insisted after a brief silence between them.
“I might have.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Your hound sort of took the choice out of my hands,” Tas reminded him.
“Maybe.”
Girik’s brows were drawn tightly together, and his gaze was distant as they sat side by side in silence.
He’s trying to find excuses for me. He’s trying so hard to make me a better man than I am.
Tas had never wanted to kiss him so much as he did now, but he didn’t think he had the right. He didn’t deserve Girik’s faith or his loyalty. He’d bungled pretty much everything from the time he’d left Blagos Keep, or even before.
The babbling brook and bright sunshine weren’t as idyllic as they’d seemed before. He was cold and tired. The sun had almost reached its zenith, when he would have sung the midday hymns, but his tongue lay leaden in his mouth.
What do I do now?
“They answered you,” Girik finally murmured, breaking the silence between them.
“What?”
Girik lifted his head, and his wide blue eyes bored into Tas’s. “You said you prayed with all your might as you went to Lyuc. You prayed to the gods for help, and they answered you.”
“It was the wind and your hound.”
“How else would they answer?”
Tas shook his head. “Why would the gods allow such a terrible thing to happen? The stones are awake. Do you know the havoc they could wreak, the lives at risk?”
“Maybe to stop a worse thing from happening. You’re the brother. Don’t you teach us that we cannot fully understand the ways of the gods, or is that just for the common folk?”
“Of course no man can ever truly understand the gods. Even blessed Harot admitted that. But—”
“Then why are you trying so hard to prove me wrong? You’re the chosen of the gods. You’ve devoted almost your whole life to them.”
“I wish I knew what that meant now,” Tas bemoaned.
“Maybe you do.” Girik turned to face him fully and tucked a leg under him. He took Tas’s hand and squeezed, his eyes bright with excitement. “Tas, think about it. I haven’t had time to put all the pieces together yet. For me, it might take weeks, but you’re fast and smart. You were the one to find the journals. You were the one who couldn’t bring himself to do the ritual and found another way. You went out to face the Spawn, fully intending to sacrifice yourself, and yet Lyuc shows up out of nowhere to save all of us. You were Singer’s bearer when he chose to wake up. He’d never done it before, right? You haven’t said as much, but Singer doesn’t seem to have cast you aside. And when you were being forced to pick between two impossible choices today, Bayor did something he’s never done before and a great wind dropped down from the mountains out of nowhere.”
“I’m still not convinced Lyuc didn’t have something to do with that,” Tas muttered uncertainly.
“Why would he lie?”
“I don’t know, so I wouldn’t blame him for what happened?”
“Do you really think he cares if you blame him? He’s the stuff of legends, Tas. This… all of this is. Is it so hard to believe the gods would want to intervene, like they did in the old tales?”
“It’s hard to believe they would intervene for me,” Tas replied.
“It isn’t hard for me to believe.”
Tas didn’t stop himself this time. He kissed Girik with all the gratitude and hope and fear inside him. He might not deserve Girik’s faith in him, but he needed it. He needed it to become that person. Especially now that he’d lost the path he thought he’d been destined to walk.
“Thank you for being here for me, for staying,” Tas whispered shakily when they broke apart. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I’ll be here as long as you want me.”
“I don’t deserve that.”
“Then it’s lucky for you that I think you do. Do you think I’d fall in love with someone undeserving?”
Tas’s mouth fell open, and he stared at the man smiling at him from only a few inches away. “I—you love me?”
Girik’s even white teeth gleamed as his smile widened. “Maybe you aren’t so fast and smart after all.” When Tas continued to gape, Girik’s expression softened. “I may be slow about some things, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I’ve never had the luxury of time. I know what I feel, even if I can’t fully explain the whys and hows just yet. I’ve never met anyone like you. I will go where you go, if you let me.”
Tas blinked rapidly and swallowed against the lump in his throat. “You’ve put a lot of faith in me.”
“You deserve it.”
Unable to say anything more, Tas buried his face in Girik’s neck and hugged the man as if his life depended on it. Girik was solid and real. He was the only thing keeping Tas from scattering into a million pieces. Tas hoped Girik knew that, because he was afraid to say it out loud. He was afraid to say a lot of things.
“You make a lovely melody together… for humans,” Singer opined.
“Shut up or I’m putting you back in the box.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
GIRIK CLUTCHED at Tas and held him tight, grateful for the contact. Tas was the first to pull away, and Girik reluctantly let go.
“What now?” he asked hesitantly.
“I need to meditate on what’s happened and what you said too. I need to talk to Singer and spend some time in prayer, because I don’t feel like I have answers right now, only questions.”
“I understand.” Girik knew better than anyone the necessity of a little time to think. If all of this craziness ever let up, he could probably sit and think for a month and still not sort through it all. “I’ll go back to camp and see what Yan and Lyuc are going to do.”
“Thank you.”
Tas looked so tired, Girik’s heart ached for him. From Girik’s point of view, being the chosen of the gods sucked. He was kind of glad to be just an ordinary, if a bit larger than average, man. After one last hand-squeeze and reassuring smile, Girik stood up and whistled for Bayor.
“I’ll meet you back at the camp,” Tas said as Bayor came bounding out of the undergrowth lining the creek.
“I’ll see if I can find some food for us,” Girik replied before turning and heading back the way they’d come.
“And no more craziness out of you, boy,” he murmured, giving Bayor a stern look.
Back at the campsite, the fire still burned, this time with actual branches to feed it, but the blankets and assorted cookware and tools had all been packed away.
Yan smiled in welcome when Girik stepped out of the trees. “I have some bread and cheese and dried meat for you if you’re hungry… oh, and some tea as well,” Yan said, motioning to the pot and bundles resting on the back of the wagon.
“Thank you.”
Girik went to him and gratefully took the mug Yan handed him. Lyuc was apparently inside the wagon, because Girik could hear grumbling and thumping coming from the other side of the door. Bryn was still nowhere to be seen.
Girik took a sip from his mug and a bite of dried meat before handing a small tidbit to Bayor. “How do you d
eal with all this?” The question popped out of him before he had a chance to think about it, but Yan smiled in sympathy.
“You get used to it… eventually.” Yan chuckled at Girik’s grimace.
“Where will you go now?” Girik asked.
After shooting a quick glance at the door to the wagon, Yan shrugged. “We were following rumors of Spawn. Lyuc was worried about the one we met in Gorazhan. Apparently the thing intimated that it was not alone. Whatever conspiracy led to it knowing about and wanting the bit of Anchor Stone the merchants had is troubling, especially since we know almost nothing about it. Your Spawn here seemed ordinary enough, though.” Yan paused and grinned. “Look at me talking like I see such things every day. The thing was horrible and had me scared nearly witless. If I’d seen that back home, I would have fainted dead away, or panicked and run until my legs gave out.”
“But not anymore,” Girik supplied.
Yan’s smile fell a little. “Not anymore. But as to your question, Lyuc wants to know what Brother Tasnerek has planned, and I think he’d like to speak to the stones, or at least the brother’s stone through him, before he makes a decision. All we know now is that it isn’t safe to stay here. We need to put some distance between us and the Brotherhood while we plan our next move. What about you?”
“I go where Tas goes,” Girik said with more confidence than he felt.
“You love him, don’t you?”
“I do,” Girik replied with a shrug. He saw no reason to be coy about it.
“He loves you too, you know,” Yan continued, making Girik’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and how protective he is of you. He puts himself between you and Lyuc every time.”
“That’s his nature. He’s a member of the Brotherhood, sworn to tend and defend their flock.”
Yan shook his head. His pale green eyes were smiling. “It’s more than that.”
“Maybe you’re just seeing love everywhere these days,” Lyuc said as he stepped out of the back of the wagon, bent, and kissed Yan on the forehead.
Girik stepped back a little, still uncomfortable in the wizard’s presence.
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