The air was bracingly cold. It was still snowing. Snowflakes struck him in the face, and he followed Tibus’s back blindly into the swirling white. Briand was saying something—she was directing them to the dracules and the horses—and then, they were at the rocks again.
They’d done it.
They’d broken out of Ikarad.
But there was no triumph in anyone’s face. They stared at each other numbly as they stood in the shelter of the rock, and then Briand said, “The rest of the information, Auberon.”
He turned his head to catch her gaze, and he seemed surprised she had remembered, and then he said, with a lift of his eyebrows, “The ones you seek are closer than you imagine. In fact, you already know their location.”
She blinked, exhausted and grief-stricken. “What do you mean?”
“Get me some paper,” Auberon said quietly. Almost gently. “You must be exhausted after controlling that dragon. I’ll write it down for you.”
When she turned to retrieve more paper from the saddlebag, Auberon pushed her so she slipped and fell on the ice, then he turned on his heel, and struck his bare palm against Crispin’s forehead. The lad dropped like a stone. Tibus barreled forward with a shout, but Auberon grabbed his arm, and he fell to his knees with a howl of pain. Nath yanked his sword from its sheath, but Jade was there before he could swing, hitting Nath with a chunk of rock on the back of the head. Pain shot through Nath’s skull and down his spine. Auberon swept forward, grabbed the sword from his hand, and flung it away into the snow before he’d recovered. He slapped his bare palm against Nath’s forehead, and Nath felt the tickle of cold power against his skin.
“Don’t move, or I’ll kill him,” Auberon hissed to the dragonsayer, who had gotten to her knees.
She stared at him, motionless, her eyes dark pits of fury in her face. Her expression was a silent accusation.
“How did you think this was going to go?” Auberon demanded. “You were never going to let me go. None of you were. You were going to run me through as soon as my sister was no longer a threat and you had your information. I’m merely getting to the betrayal part first.” Over his shoulder, he called to Jade, “Get our horses.”
“Ari—” she began, her gaze shifting uncertainly to the dragonsayer.
“Just do it!” he shouted, and his sister obeyed without another word.
The wind whipped the Seeker’s long, silvery hair. “Don’t look so wounded,” he said to the dragonsayer. “You never cared one iota for me. You want me dead as much as the rest.”
“I do now,” she said coldly.
Her eyes shifted to behind Auberon, and then Nath heard the most beautiful sound in the entire universe.
“Get your hands up,” Kael said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
KAEL STOOD WITH a knife to Auberon’s throat. The Seeker whirled to fight him, and Kael struck him across the face hard enough to knock him into the snow.
Briand leaped across the stretch of ice and threw herself between them as Auberon tried to lunge for Kael, and the wave of power that came from her at the contact between the Seeker and her skin sent him flying back against the stone that sheltered them from the worst of the storm. She stumbled, boots slipping on the frozen ground, and Kael wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her briefly. She drew both knives with a hiss of steel and stood against him, facing the Seeker.
“Kael,” Nath gasped in shock from beside them as he fumbled for a weapon. “How—what—?”
Auberon pushed himself up, dazed and fading in and out of consciousness. Tibus lurched to his feet as Jade hurried a few paces away, still holding the reins of the horse.
“How?” Auberon spat. “How are you not dead, traitor?”
“You aren’t the only one who can read trilazyti,” Kael said, locking gazes with the Seeker. “I have been learning a lot of things while in Nyr, including ancient languages. I knew as soon as you tried to pretend the spell required a death that you were going to betray us. I thought it might be most wise to make you think you had what you wanted. Seems I was right to think so.”
“There was no spell?” Nath gasped.
“There was a spell,” Kael said evenly. “But it only required someone to shock a listener with a secret. I thought the rest of you might find Briand’s knowledge of a vision of my death shocking enough to work. Apparently, Auberon did too.”
“You knew about that?” Tibus said. “That was all an act?”
“Of course he knew,” Briand said. “I told him the first night I saw him.”
She remembered it well—the somberness and focus on his face as she’d told him. No more secrets, she’d sworn. If they wanted to have a shot at this, they had to be honest with each other. They had to start from a place of trust.
And so, she’d told him, holding her breath at what he was going to say. Terrified, but determined to seek a solution with him instead of without him.
And then, to her astonishment, he’d laughed.
“Does this mean you don’t believe it?” Briand had asked him in a small voice.
“Any madman can have a vision,” he’d said.
“You aren’t going to try to convince me to stab you?” she had asked, faint with relief.
“No, but I do intend to teach you Saress, which might amount to the same thing,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her.
Now, in the swirling storm in the far north, she felt warm with him at her back.
“Did you know?” Nath asked Briand.
“He asked me to trust him before he pretended to stab himself with my knife,” she answered. “So I did.”
She didn’t tell him it had been one of the hardest moments of her life. The raw pain and grief she’d felt had been real, the scream that ripped from her throat as he fell had been real. She was nearly certain Kael was not dead, but still—the idea of it alone turned her stomach to stone.
Crispin blinked and sat up. He did a double take at the sight of Kael. “Have I died?” he mumbled, putting a hand to his head.
“No, lad, Kael is alive!” Nath said. “And the Seeker—”
He stopped.
Briand’s chest lurched.
The Seeker was gone.
The sound of hoofbeats came faintly through the storm. Jade and Auberon had fled the moment they took their eyes away.
Tibus leaped onto another of the horses, disappearing into the swirling storm of snow after the Seekers.
Kael helped Crispin up.
“Do the Seekers in Ikarad know we’ve escaped outside?” Crispin asked.
Kael clapped the lad on the shoulder. “I stole into the secret tunnel after you and closed it behind me, but eventually they will discover that we’ve escaped completely, and come looking for us outside. We should leave this place now.”
A few moments later, Tibus returned. “It’s impossible to track them in this storm!” he shouted. “I don’t have any idea which direction they went!”
A movement in the snow caught Briand’s eye as she turned for the horses.
The bundle of rags Jade had carried from the prison.
The baby rypter.
Jade must have dropped it as they rode away.
“Look,” Crispin said, recoiling. “The rypter.”
Nath drew his sword and strode toward the bundle. The rypter stuck its nose into the snow-filled hair, its blind face turning toward him as if it sensed his thoughts. It whimpered hopefully.
Nath lowered his arm. He sheathed his sword and scooped up the bundle. The baby rypter licked his hand as he turned back to them.
Crispin stared at him.
“We shouldn’t leave a body here for the Seekers to find,” Nath said. “That’s all.”
Briand didn’t believe him for a second, and she didn’t think anyone else did, either. But no one said anything.
“Let’s go,” Nath said gruffly. He paused, his gaze snapping to Kael’s. “That bastard never gave us the other half of the codes.”
�
�No,” Kael agreed. “But I have an idea for how we can make do. Isglorn is not lost, my friends.”
“Auberon never told us how to find the guardians either,” Crispin said as they mounted the horses, his expression reflecting his horror. “He double-crossed us first.”
Briand remembered what Auberon had said.
In fact, you already know their location.
“I think… I think I know where to look,” she said.
~
The ruins of Arkane were silent except for the thunderous sound of crickets singing in the tall night grasses as they approached. Briand dismounted silently at Kael’s signal, and the rest of the followed suit, leaving the horses tethered at the edge of the city ruins and creeping on foot through the crumbling columns covered in vines. Night blossoms of glowing white bloomed on the vines, petals shimmering with luminous light.
The dracules streaked through the ruins ahead of Briand, ferreting out crickets and sniffing at the wind. The baby rypter resting in the crook of Nath’s arm bravely lifted its face to the night air and gave a tiny squeak of curiosity.
“It can feel our anticipation,” Crispin said.
Nath grumbled something, but he didn’t put the rypter down. He hadn’t let it go since they’d left the snow-covered sea of ice, despite his constant talk of leaving it in the woods and riding away.
They found the tripwire from before, and Briand threw a stick against it. A net swooped from above like a giant bird, dropping harmlessly over the ground in front of them.
“Now,” Kael said quietly, “we wait.”
Footsteps echoed ahead after a short while, and a glowing figure flitted through the darkness.
“A ghoul,” Crispin whispered. “Just like the legends.”
“Looks like that glow comes from the flowers growing around here,” Nath said. “So… definitely not a ghoul.”
As they watched from behind a column, the glowing figure paused by the trap, crouching down in confusion.
Briand stepped forward, her hands empty but ready to draw her knives if she needed them.
The figure stiffened at the sound of her feet scuffing against stone. It rose as if to flee.
“Stop,” Briand called. “Wait.”
The dracules darted to Briand’s side, and the figure stilled at the sight of them. It reached up a hand to pull the fabric away from its face, revealing a girl’s still-chubby cheeks and a small mouth open in surprise.
“Are those what I think they are?” the girl asked, pointing at the dracules.
“What do you think they are?” Briand asked, putting a hand down to calm Vox as he thrust his muzzle against her leg.
“Dracules,” the girl breathed. “I’ve seen pictures in the books…” She raised her eyes to Briand’s. “Does that make you a… a…”
“I’m a dragonsayer,” Briand said. “And I need your help.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE GIRL IN the glowing robes led Briand, Kael, and Nath across the darkness of the ruins, while Crispin and Tibus waited with the horses, their swords drawn. The girl walked fast, ducking beneath strands of vines before pushing aside a row of red-striped bushes to reveal a narrow gully of hard-packed dirt that wove through the growth, imperceptible to the careless eye and set low enough in the earth that anyone walking along it could be concealed from view. Nath gave a low grunt of approval. Unless one was looking for it, the path was invisible.
This must have been where the “bandits” had vanished the last time they were in the ruins.
The girl slipped down the path, her feet noiseless on the ground, her robes glowing. Briand, Kael, and Nath followed silently, hands on their weapons in case it was a trap. The dracules romped cheerfully alongside, snapping at fireflies and sniffing for crickets in the tall grass.
Some of the grasses that arched above their head fluttered in a sudden breeze, and a fluted sound filled the air. Nath paused, his sword halfway out of its sheath, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Kael reached up and captured one of the stalks of grass with his fingers and studied it, then lowered it to show Briand.
The stalk was hollow.
Kael put it to his lips and blew, and a mournful, whispering sound filled the air.
The girl turned her head to look at them. “Songstalks,” she said. “We use them to signal to each other.”
“How long have you lived here?” Briand asked.
The girl tipped her head as if the question were a strange one. “As long as I’ve been alive.”
They walked on, their way lit by the starlight, their steps muffled by the music of the grass and the wind. Finally, the girl reached a crumbling tower of stone half-concealed by a grove of trees that had sprouted up around it. She stepped through an arched opening covered in moss and motioned for them to follow. Briand sent the dracules in first, letting them sniff the area for any hidden persons who might be waiting to ambush them. She and the others were still jumpy after Auberon’s betrayal, and they weren’t going to take any chances. The dracules could hear the murmur of voices and smell the scent of fire, but both things were far away, and they were disappointed not to discover any treats inside the tower, which was only a round, damp ruin.
When Briand was satisfied that the shadowy interior of the tower held no danger, they followed the girl inside.
She stamped on the ground, and her feet made a hollow sound against the earth, and then the ground split as someone flung open a trap door, letting out a burst of light. Briand caught a glimpse of a head of curly black hair and a pair of bright eyes. A boy, younger than Crispin. He didn’t see them, because his face was half-buried in a book.
“Luna,” he complained. “You’ve been gone forever. I’ve read sixteen pages ahead because I got tired of waiting—”
“I’m not alone,” the girl said. “Call Ma. A dragonsayer is here.”
The boy fell silent and then thrust his head up to look at them. His eyes widened, and they heard the scuffle of feet on wooden rungs as he descended rapidly below.
Another moment, and they heard another voice. A woman’s voice, threaded with fear. “Luna?”
“It’s all right, Ma,” she called back. “They’re friendly.”
“I’m coming up,” the woman said. “I’m armed, and you’re surrounded. Don’t try anything, strangers. I’m a very good shot.”
“They’re friendly,” Luna insisted again.
A woman ascended the ladder, holding a lantern in one hand and a crossbow in the crook of her other elbow. She peered at them, her face knit with fear, and then she saw the dracules at Briand’s feet.
“Oh,” she said, the sound a gasp of delight. “Dracules? I thought they were all dead.”
Her expression softened into one of trust as she knelt, set aside her lantern, and reached out a hand for Vox to sniff. The dracule stretched out his neck, cautious but interesting in smelling the woman’s fingers. He got a whiff and began sniffing the back of her hand and wrist. His thoughts, Briand saw, were filled with anticipation of treats. The woman’s skin smelled like meat and spices, the kind Vox had eaten with his other guardian family. His tail began to thump, and he darted out his tongue to lick her hand. “They wouldn’t be with you if you were Seekers,” the woman said, crooning to Vox. “Look at them. They’re beautiful.” She stretched out her other hand toward Sieya with the crossbow still balanced in the crook of her elbow. Sieya, however, displayed a bit more hesitation, refusing to creep close enough to touch her nose to the woman’s fingers. Meanwhile, Vox had practically curled up in the woman’s lap. “Where did you get them?” she asked.
“Sieya, the female, hatched from an ancient egg,” Briand said. “And Vox, the male dracule who is trying to butter you up for treats right now, was raised by the guardian family living in Tasglorn.”
The woman raised her eyes. Her hands stilled. “And how is Noe’s family?” Her eyes darted to Vox. Briand knew what she was thinking.
Why was the dracule not with the other guardians anymore?
Briand was quiet for too long before she answered. The woman’s face fell.
“Seekers?” she guessed, her mouth twisting bitterly.
Briand nodded.
The woman’s expression tightened. She looked at them all, and then back at the dracules. “Come inside,” she said.
They followed the woman down a ladder and into a space carved from the earth. Roots dangled from the ceiling, and beds lined the far wall. The air smelled like smoke and dirt. A small fire lit the space, flickering on the woman’s shoulders as she reached for a box on a shelf above the nearest bed. “I am Bethula,” she said, setting the box on the wooden table in the center of the room. She opened the lid, revealing a box embossed with a symbol of a dragon. “My children and I are some of the last of the guardians in existence. We have been in hiding here for many years. There have long been rumors of ghosts in these ruins, and so we always moved through the ruins dressed the part. Most locals steer clear of this place, but we have traps in place in case we are set upon by strangers.”
“Did you write the trilazyti message warning of the trap?” Nath asked, his brow furrowing.
The woman laughed. “We did. We made it look part of the ruin. We thought we wouldn’t want to ambush our guardian friends, should they come looking for us one day…” She trailed off, remembering the news Briand had just given her about the guardians in Tasglorn. “You… she said you…?” Bethula looked at Briand.
“I am a dragonsayer,” Briand told her. “And I’m looking for training.”
The woman looked toward the beds where her children were sitting, listening intently. “We are not equipped to host strangers,” she said. “We have little space, and we struggle to feed ourselves.”
“Any particular reason why you live here?” Kael asked.
“We didn’t know where else to hide,” the woman said, exhaling as if considering the answer to the question made her feel a sense of regret. “I knew from stories my grandfather used to tell that there were tunnels beneath the city. But we discovered that most of the entrances had collapsed long ago, and the tunnels were filled with stones. We were stuck in this tiny hovel.”
A Court of Lies Page 25
