His wife gave the young woman a warm embrace. “Be careful. Both of you.”
“The future seems dark,” Binthe said, “but the Aspects Above have yet to weave their skeins. Take comfort in that.”
Kaarl likewise held the battle seer tightly. “You come back to us, Binthe of the Sea, do you hear?” She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then left with Morgan to prepare for the journey to Edara.
Desde took a few steps closer to the river, holding her amulet. “I once met the artisan who made this. There are few higher acts of service for the Unaspected than crafting the amulets we bear to protect them.” She let her amulet fall back to her chest and gave a ragged exhale. “Those twenty-five defenders will make little difference for Edara. Most will probably not survive. Our numbers will never recover. Varn-Erdal’s future is clouded, but Kin-Deren’s future is even darker unless I take a new course. I have only one choice now to guard both provinces.”
Kaarl blanched as she opened her mind to him. What she planned would unlock the very gates of the Underworld.
“You cannot. Desde, you cannot. You must not.”
“I can no easier prevent the Dark Trine from overrunning Edara than I can protect Deren. Yet, both must happen. For that, I need an army. There are no more Fal’kin left.” She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. “We have no other choice, Ëi ama. We must ask our Unaspected brothers and sisters to stand with us.”
He grabbed her arms. “You can’t do this. The very reason we breathe is to protect the Unaspected, not ask them to fight our wars for us.”
She pulled out of his grip. “So, now you stand on principle? This would be a first, Kaarl il’Tern il’Pinal. This is the only way I can protect two provinces. It is the only way I can protect our daughter.”
“Please listen to reason.”
“I cannot even keep Kin-Deren safe, let alone aid Varn-Erdal. Kana-Akün has already fallen. It will only be a matter of time before the Dark Trine marches on Deren. I have no choice.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “There is always a choice. We will ask every province on the continent for a cleaving. I will rebuild the il’Kin. I am steward, am I not? I will—”
“We do not have that kind of time. I have only time enough to do what needs to be done.”
“But we are Fal’kin, Desde,” he pleaded.
She held her amulet once more and studied it. “We were.”
To ask the Unaspected to fight was anathema. “Jasal Pinal was in a more dire situation than we are when he faced the Ken’nar Triumvirate, and even he did not ask the Unaspected to fight.”
“He had five thousand Fal’kin and the vantage of that watchtower on his side.” Desde then frowned skyward. “The Aspects Above have abandoned us.”
... I will find another way ... he called.
She whirled to face him. “There is no other way. We have failed in our purpose.” With effort, she composed herself once more. “Perhaps in our frailty, though, we can give one more act of service. To step aside for the good of Kinderra. No matter his strength, the Dark Trine’s armies are no match for the millions of Unaspected who live on this continent. The Aspects Above created them first, gave them their breath first, gave them this land first. Kinderra is as much theirs to cherish and protect as it is ours. Perhaps the age of the Fal’kin was meant to fade away to keep Kinderra safe. I would rather see that than have Kinderra enslaved under the yoke of the Dark Trine’s tyranny just to keep a failing grip on our amulets.”
“I am begging you. Do not do this. I cannot let you do this.”
“You cannot let me?” She laughed without humor. “I am prime of Kin-Deren province. It is my decision and mine alone. You may defend, but I see. Unless we do this, there will nothing left for you to defend.”
“If you do this, Kinderra will never be the same again. There has to be another choice, another solution. I will find one.”
Desde placed her once-perfect porcelain fingers on his amulet. “And if you fail?”
Kaarl did not answer. If he failed, Kinderra could be destroyed without the firing of a single amulet. And his daughter would be no safer.
CHAPTER 39
“His hand is with all.”
—The Codex of Jasal the Great
Mirana smelled the scent of wet grass. Clean. Fresh. Good. She inhaled the fragrant green aroma, then stopped quickly. Her breath burned her lungs, each inhale a hot coal. Her chest, her arms, her hands ached—raw, scorched, and shredded. She remembered and awoke with start.
A dark cloaked figure sat an arm’s length away. She shouted and drew one of her long knives, scrambling backward.
“Oh! Lord Garis!” She put the knife away. “You’re alive!”
“Quite.” He lowered the cowl of his black cloak. “And so are you, despite your best efforts to the contrary.”
In her relief, she ignored his admonition. “I tried to find you. I couldn’t.”
“Ai, the battle was a desperate one, but I have been in desperate battles before and will be again.”
She sat in the middle of a prairie sea stretching from horizon to horizon. She did not see a single tree or shrub, just sky and grass. The sunlight warmed her skin. Insects droned in the tall blades. Small birds flew after them, chirping. She attempted to stretch, and instead winced at her sore muscles.
“Can you ride?”
No, but she would anyway. “Ai.” Her insides felt like a side of Quorumtide beef roasted on a spit. Every muscle felt burned and shredded, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
“Good,” he nodded. “Here. Eat.” He handed her some dried beef.
She took a bite, chewed, and shoved the rest in her mouth. When had she last eaten?
He held a slice back from her. “Slowly.”
A bee flitted between tiny yellow flowers. The blooms dotted the landscape like bits of sunshine. Peda blossoms. Teague. The beef stuck in her throat.
Her hand flew to her chest. Teague’s pendant still hung from her neck. The thin gold frame, however, was warped and discolored with a tarnished patina. The yellow flowers pressed between the fingernail-thin sheets of mica were now brown and shriveled. A faint red outline in the shape of its small rectangle scarred the skin over her breastbone. Its warmth, however, still reflected against her fingertips like sunlight. Like Teague. Like love.
She dared not reach out with her Aspects to know if he had survived the battle at Two Rivers Ford. She would rather remain in hope, in ignorance, if only for a little while longer.
Lord Garis’s mind nudged hers. “You have no room in your life for him now. You would do well to forget him.”
She could no easier forget Teague than she could forget how to breathe. Had a Ken’nar blade made the choice for her? The simple act of eating suddenly became more difficult. She worked the dried beef down in several swallows.
The Trine exhaled in disapproval. “He lives.”
She wanted to weep with relief. “Gratas Oë, Lord Trine.”
“As do your parents.”
“Gratas.” She was grateful—and a thousand more conflicted things besides—to hear that, too.
He gestured to the dried meat in her hand. “Eat.”
She took another bite as she looked around her. “Where are we?” she asked with a full mouth.
He rose and threw a furred animal skin over the back of his horse. “Sün-Kasal province, about a two days’ ride—” He sighed at her grimace as she tried to stretch again. “A three-days’ ride north of Kasan.”
She blinked. “Wait. Three days?” She nearly choked on her food. “How long have I been asleep?”
“You weren’t asleep. I held you unconscious so you could heal.”
That disturbed her. She would have rather awakened when she was ready, regardless of the pain. “I remember being on the Kin-Deren side of the Ford, between the two bridges.”
“You were. I had to swim across the Anarath.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “How? With all the rain, t
he current should have been too strong for anyone to swim.”
“Lucky for you, I am a strong swimmer.” He inclined his head toward her horse. “Lucky for the both of us, your warhorse is a strong swimmer, too.”
“He is a magnificent beast.” She rose gingerly and patted Ashtar’s powerful flank. It shone like copper in the sun. As she put the rest of the dried beef in her mouth, she pulled up a handful of grass and fed it to him. He lipped the blades from her hand.
“You could have drowned.” She stroked the white blaze on Ashtar’s nose. She had cost so many so much. “You risked your life for me. Why?”
He frowned. “Discovering the power in Jasal’s Keep is paramount. I thought you understood that.” He tossed something toward her. “Now. How are you feeling? Really?”
An amulet’s empty gold casing lay in the grass at her feet, now a piece of melted, twisted metal. She said nothing.
“It is not easy to lose one’s amulet.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically soft.
Choosing the ruby amulet at the Ford had been, what? Something so wondrous, yet so natural. It was nothing at all like the suffocating domination she had experienced during the Choosing Ceremony. When she released her Aspects through it, the glorious connection completed her, made her whole at last.
She picked up the amulet casing. It was bent beyond repair. With an amulet, she had experienced a connection to the Aspects deeper than she ever had before. Now, her perceptions without one were diluted and bereft by comparison.
“I feel—” she fought for a word, “separated. Disconnected. Alone.” She thought of her mother and father, and their betrayal. Abandoned.
He nodded. “Most Aspected never recover from the loss.”
“But I am a Trine. I can choose any amulet, not just one. Why do I feel any loss at all?”
“Using and choosing an amulet are two different things. It is something only a very few have ever understood.”
His emotions shifted, or rather, new ones surfaced and passed to her mind only to recede again. Was he annoyed with her? Resigned to her presence? Angry? Or was he worried? Even actually being kind?
“What in the name of the Aspects were you thinking?” he rebuked her at last.
Angry. He was angry. “My lord, I thought—”
He stabbed a long finger at her. “No. You absolutely did not think. You could have killed yourself destroying Two Rivers Ford. Leveraging that kind of power from Within should have left you dead.”
That victory, however, gave her small comfort. Thousands of her Kin-Deren provincemen died during the battle because of her, because she no longer trusted what she knew to be true.
That was the problem. She no longer knew right from wrong.
She traced the ruined amulet with a finger. “I had to do something.”
He towered over her, balling those very large fists of his on his hips. He snatched the amulet casing from her hands, then shook it at her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
She didn’t want to look into his hard obsidian eyes. She would have hidden in the grass if she could have. “I know with the Ford gone, it will make crossing the rivers more difficult, but the Dark Trine’s armies will also be stopped in their tracks.”
“It will also stop commerce, and any food coming from the bounty of the south to the northern provinces. These rains will have delayed crops in the north. If we have a harsh winter, provinces may starve. Ai, you’ve stopped something. You have stopped the continent.” He threw the empty amulet back down at her feet.
Hundreds of miles away lay the ocean. She had Ashtar and a piece of food. What would it take to ride away to the sea? Probably more than one piece of tough jerked beef.
“The Fal’kin were being slaughtered. I couldn’t let them die.” She had saved a hundred Fal’kin only to cripple Kinderra in the process. “You should have left me in the library.”
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I thought we were past this.”
She caught a number of emotional shades from the Trine again. Anger, ai, but also concern, about her and for her. Frankly, that shocked her. She figured she was little more than a nuisance to him. After destroying the Ford, she might even be a downright hindrance.
She massaged the tender red burns on one palm with her thumb, wanting to do anything but face his penetrating dark gaze. “How did you know I was in the library anyway? I was hidden under U’Nehíl.”
“And very well, too.” She looked up. A corner of the Trine’s mouth finally curved upward into a grin, not so much in humor, but in acknowledgment of her cleverness. Or maybe his cleverness in finding her. She didn’t know which. He was an enigma. “Where is the only place a young girl could go to face the creator of a nightmare that has preyed upon her for summers?” He was right.
He crouched and picked up her spent amulet once more, studying it. “Ai, you made egress across Kinderra much more difficult, but you did end the battle very effectively. Lives were indeed saved that most certainly would have been lost. I also have no doubt you knew it might cost you your own.”
His words, or rather the emotions behind his words, were not so much complimentary as they were compassionate. She fought the urge to hug him.
Lord Garis laid the tarnished setting on the grass and leaned over to reach into one of Ashtar’s saddlebags on the ground. He handed her another piece of beef and a wafer of waybread. “You need to eat more. Healing takes as much from the patient as the healer. Perhaps had you packed more food instead of Jasal’s Codex, we could travel longer.” He took out the tome.
She smiled sheepishly and took a bite of the hardtack. She chewed quickly and swallowed. “We will need it if we are to figure out how the keep works.”
She reached for the Codex. Unlike the journals of so many other primes and learned Fal’kin, Jasal’s journal was not much larger than an ordinary book. It was not inset with gems, nor leafed with gold. Other than the clasp, nothing about it indicated how incredibly unique it was.
“So, you stole it.” He eased himself back down on the grass and took a bite of waybread.
“I didn’t steal it. I just, um—” Mirana pursed her lips for a moment, “borrowed it. Every book in Deren’s library is available for those who seek knowledge.” She sat down next to him.
He made a strange sound in the back of his throat. Did the Lord Trine Tetric Garis just laugh? “I suppose you’re correct. What do you know about your ancestor’s keep?”
She paused, thinking. “Jasal Pinal built the keep during the Siege of Deren some twelve hundred summers ago. He knew the citadel walls and the gates wouldn’t be enough to stop the Ken’nar from entering the city. Instead of leading his armies against Ilrik the Black, it appears Jasal was focused on finishing the watchtower.” She patted the cover of the Codex. “In the end, neither his body nor his amulet was found. All of Kinderra believes Jasal abandoned Deren and the Fal’kin at the height of the battle.”
Lord Garis stroked his beard. “I have fought long enough to know that lack of an identifiable body is seldom proof of whether one is living or dead. But what of his keep, the very thing that saved Deren?”
She was too shocked to answer his question. She had one of her own. “You don’t think Jasal was a coward?”
He shook his head. “I don’t care if he was or was not.”
Jasal Pinal had been branded a villain more despicable than even a traitor. Her family was still treated with a certain amount of mistrust more than a thousand summers later because of it. The Trine’s dismissal of her family’s curse stunned her.
“Well, um, his keep did work, according to the Book of Kinderra,” she answered. “Passages from that time say Ilrik the Black was killed, and his Ken’nar were defeated. Deren was saved. Somehow.”
“Somehow,” the Trine added. He pointed to the journal in her hands. “Have you read the passage in his Codex—or in the Book of Kinderra, for that matter—that says how the keep did this supposed miracle?”
She sh
ook her head. “No.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it is not there.”
“Ai,” he nodded. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that one of the most magnificent pieces of engineering on the continent has almost no mention in the very journal of its builder?” He gestured to the northeast where Deren and the watchtower lay hundreds of leagues away.
“I’ve always wondered that, too.” She shook her head slowly, thinking again. “Jasal must have had plans, drawings, something.”
“I agree, but to my knowledge, I don’t recall ever reading anything like that.”
He gestured for her to give him the book and flipped to the pages at the back. After searching a bit, he read, “‘This is a time of great peril.’” He scanned the script. “‘Thus, the Aspects Above have revealed to me their divine plan. But to hearken unto their will requires a decision I am loath to make. My choice is before me. I could no easier ignore the need than I could ignore my beloved Antiri’s call. Therefore, I have called upon the whole of the Fal’kinnen for a great sacrifice as demanded by the Aspects Above.’ What do you make of this?”
Mirana leaned forward a bit to get a better view of the passage and bit off a groan as her muscles complained at the movement. “That part is a little strange to me. It’s very direct, for one thing. Jasal is usually much more poetic. He sounds doubtful. Or terrified.” She straightened—very slowly. “What’s even more strange, the concluding ones afterward make no sense.”
Lord Garis pursed his lips for a moment. “How so?”
“Well, the content doesn’t flow. More than that, though, I think everything coming after this passage was written by another writer. Read this.” She flipped a few pages and tapped on the flowing script. “‘At great cost have we won. Deren lives, yet our Treasure has been lost to us. The Light from our greatest Jewel shines elsewhere.’ Not only do the glyphs of the script look different, but this writer also used a prime glyph in the words ‘treasure,’ ‘light,’ and ‘jewel.’ I think whoever wrote this last passage was referring to Jasal himself, not amulets. Jasal never describes himself like this. He is a very humble man, really.”
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