Rift

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Rift Page 33

by Andrea Cremer


  His smile was fleeting. “I’m sorry . . .” His words trailed off, but she knew he couldn’t say more.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  He joined her in the small circle, standing close enough that their arms touched.

  Lukasz, who’d been speaking quietly with Father Michael and Thomas, looked over the group and nodded.

  “This completes our number.” He sighed, shaking his head. “We are few, but I can’t claim surprise at that.”

  A weasel-faced knight, who Ember remembered was named Fitch, asked, “Are the rumors true?”

  “I am sorry to say that they are,” Lukasz answered, looking around at the huddled group. “You are here because you came to me after Eira visited you with promises of power, of a new hierarchy in Conatus.”

  While the people around her nodded, Ember frowned. When Lukasz saw her furrowed brow, he smiled and said quietly, “Or you are here because someone I trust believed you to be incorruptible.”

  Ember felt Barrow’s hand rest on the small of her back. She nodded at the commander, but her head was spinning.

  Promises of power. A new order. Alistair had come to her tonight, speaking of Eira’s greatness. I want you to understand how much I trust her.

  He wanted me to join them, Ember thought as bile rose in her throat. Did he know what Eira planned for Sorcha? Did he do nothing to stop it?

  “You promised a witness to back up your words, Commander.” Fitch cast a suspicious glance around the dimly lit circle. “Where is he? I want to follow you, but I need proof.”

  “Lora.” Lukasz beckoned someone from the darkness of what Ember had thought was an empty stall.

  The cleric who summoned sparring partners from the clay appeared, supporting a rickety man whose eyes were wild with fear.

  “You said you’d protect me.” He clung to Lora.

  “These are friends, Goodman Sawyer,” Lora said gently. “None here will offer you harm.”

  “You don’t know, you don’t know.” Sawyer’s limbs shook. “They all turn. They all choose him.”

  “Who is this man?” Barrow asked Lukasz.

  “A servant of Abbot Crichton,” the commander told him. “He arrived at the keep yesterday and Lora was the first to speak with him. She had the good sense to keep him hidden.”

  “Hidden from whom?” Fitch asked.

  “My fellows in the Circle,” Thomas told him. “I am afraid they cannot be trusted.”

  Restless shuffles stirred the group.

  “What do you mean, the Circle can’t be trusted?” the knight called Mercer asked.

  Father Michael raised the lantern so its light rained down on his head. “A great evil has come upon us. A darkness that corrupts the very core of our order.”

  Lukasz nodded, gesturing to Sawyer. “This servant brings a tale of woe from the abbot’s estate.”

  Mercer snickered. “Since when is woe for the abbot woe for us?”

  “In this case the abbot’s downfall could very well be our own.” The commander didn’t smile.

  “What’s happened, Lukasz?” Barrow frowned at him. “What has befallen the abbot?”

  “Tell them, Sawyer.” Lora nudged the shuddering man.

  Sawyer’s eyes roved over the group as he spoke. “I was there when they came. The lady Eira and the strange man.”

  Ember’s breath became shallow. Barrow took her hands in his, hiding their clasped fingers in the folds of his cloak.

  “They met privately with my master,” Sawyer said. “But soon the abbot’s screams filled the halls of the manor and spilled out into the gardens. We all heard him crying for mercy. He found none.”

  “Who caused the abbot’s torment?” Lukasz asked, though the set of his jaw suggested he already knew the answer.

  Sawyer’s mouth quivered. “H-h-him. We didn’t know what they were. The things he called to his service. The monsters. The shadows.”

  “The shadow creatures?” Barrow asked with alarm. “The same beasts that attacked the village?”

  “So it would seem,” Thomas answered quietly.

  “And Eira was there?” Fitch’s hand was on his sword hilt, as if he expected an attack at any moment. “She went to the abbot and no one knew of it?”

  “We knew nothing before Sawyer arrived,” Lukasz said. “Go on with your tale, goodman.”

  “They slaughtered the soldiers who tried to help the abbot,” Sawyer said, half sobbing. “They are invincible! No weapon can harm these demons.”

  “Do you believe they truly are demons?” Father Michael asked.

  Sawyer nodded. “They serve their master, who is but the devil. What other creature could manifest such evil things at will?”

  “What happened next?” Mercer’s brow knit together. “After the soldiers were killed.”

  “There were a few left who surrendered.” Sawyer drew a shaking breath. “Eira offered amnesty to any who swore their allegiance to her and to the stranger.”

  “Does he have a name? This stranger?” Barrow asked.

  “His name is Lord Mar,” Sawyer said. “Lord Bosque Mar.”

  “Is this demon known?” Mercer turned to Father Michael.

  The priest shook his head. “I have never heard this name. Nor of any being who can call up demons in such number and with such powers.”

  Barrow drew a sharp breath. “And Eira was a witness to all of this?”

  Sawyer’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They say she delighted in the abbot’s pain . . . They say she laughed.”

  “What of the abbot?” Fitch demanded. “Is he dead?”

  “No,” Sawyer told him. “He is a prisoner in his own home. At Eira’s orders he signs what letters and documents she wills, and if he resists, the stranger brings his demons to torment the abbot further.”

  “This is our doom,” Fitch murmured. “By her own will Eira let Sorcha burn . . . She will destroy us.”

  “Hush,” Lora said as Sawyer wrung his hands and wept.

  “And how can we trust this man?” Mercer glared at her. “What if he’s come to us with this story only to elicit our own allegiances? He could give all our names to Eira.”

  Sawyer looked up, tears dripping off his chin. “No, Lord Knight, no. I was only able to escape because I am a woodcutter. When I went to my work in the forest, I ran away.”

  “You weren’t pursued?” Barrow frowned.

  “The abbot has many servants,” Sawyer said. “I think Eira had little care for a simple woodcutter.”

  “She wouldn’t want any to learn of what’s happened at the abbot’s estate,” Mercer argued.

  “Yes, Lord Knight.” Sawyer nodded. “But who would believe me other than someone of your order? I came here in the hopes that Lady Eira would think it impossible for any of the abbot’s servants to seek your aid. For the lady herself lives here, and if she were to discover me, I would surely be killed.”

  Father Michael laid his hand on Sawyer’s forehead. “You are a brave man for bringing us this news. God bless you, my son.”

  Sawyer began to cry again.

  “What will we do?” Fitch shifted on his feet, uneasy. “Confront Eira? If her allegiance with this fiend is revealed, perhaps we can expel her from Conatus and then seek a way to defeat her new ally.”

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Thomas said in a strained voice. “Eira has gathered followers. Many within Tearmunn have been swayed by her promises that colluding with this foul creature somehow befits our mission.”

  “How has her mind become so twisted?” Kael asked suddenly. “How could we have been so deceived?”

  “It is indeed troubling.” Father Michael bowed his head. “Perhaps even more troubling that she so easily gains the support of our fellows.”

  Mercer’s gaze swept over their group, his eyes widening. “Are you saying everyone within the keep, save we few, have thrown their support behind Eira?”

  “No,” Lora answered him. “The clerics and servants know nothing
of this. Only when I’d found Sawyer and heard his tale did I learn what was happening.”

  “Eira has laid her case before the Circle and the Guard, but not the whole of Tearmunn,” Thomas said. “For that is where she believes the power of Conatus exists. The clerics will be the next to gain her attention.”

  “Even so.” Fitch coughed, trying to cover the trembling in his voice. “Of twenty-five knights, we alone would resist?”

  “So it would seem,” Lukasz said wearily. “Eira was once the commander of the Guard. There are still many loyal to her. Before tonight I would have counted myself among that number.”

  Ember closed her eyes. Alistair’s face haunted her. Unbidden, his words echoed in her mind once more. I want you to understand how much I trust her.

  “B-but the Circle?” Fitch stammered. “All of them as well?”

  “Not myself, obviously.” Thomas offered him a weak smile. “Cian and Ewan are with us too.”

  “Then where are they?” Fitch asked.

  “Cian stayed with her sister,” Lukasz told him. “To keep her occupied while we met and decided upon a course of action. Ewan keeps watch for us. If we were to be discovered, this would end before it begins.”

  Mercer asked, “Before what begins?”

  The commander and Thomas exchanged a troubled glance.

  “Whoever this Lord Mar is, we must find a way to expel him from our world,” Lukasz said. “Even if it means searching the ends of the earth for the means by which he can be defeated.”

  The gathering became very still as the implications of Lukasz’s words sank in.

  Barrow spoke first. “When do we leave?”

  “Immediately,” Lukasz answered. “As soon as the horses are saddled.”

  “You want us to abandon Tearmunn now?” Fitch shook his head. “Where will we go?”

  Thomas frowned at him. “There is no other choice. If you delay, you risk revealing yourselves to Eira or any of her allies.”

  “As to where we’ll go,” Lukasz said, “we may have few allies within Tearmunn, but Conatus lives beyond these walls. We’ll seek passage to Krak des Chevaliers.”

  “Syria? You would put us in the hands of the Mamluks?” Fitch gaped at the commander. “Their sultan, Faraj, is spoken of as a cruel man.”

  Father Michael said, “The Mamluks have been allies of Conatus no matter who rules them, and we will be offered refuge at Krak des Chevaliers.”

  “How can you be sure?” Fitch asked.

  Lukasz’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you to be such a coward, Fitch.”

  Fitch dropped his gaze, shamefaced.

  “Peace, friends,” Father Michael said gently. “These desperate times weaken our faith and make our hearts quail. Let us lift each other up.”

  “Father Michael is right,” Thomas told them. “We can’t afford to quarrel among ourselves. Fitch, the reason Krak des Chevaliers offers sanctuary is that it will take longer for Eira to affect such a keep that is within Conatus but outside Christendom. From what we’ve gathered, she’s relying on the channels available to Abbot Crichton. That means she’ll focus on the Holy Roman Empire and a few points east before broaching the lands of the Ottomans and Mamluks. At least we hope so.”

  “And hope is all we have,” Lukasz finished.

  “I am no coward,” Fitch said, his voice low. “But surely we needn’t take a ship. That voyage will cost us weeks. Have Hamish weave a door to Krak des Chevaliers that we might travel there with all the speed we command.”

  Lora sighed. “You can’t risk bringing Hamish into this mess. We don’t know where his allegiance will fall. If he proves sympathetic to Eira, he’ll give away your hiding place.”

  “You came here this night of your own free will,” Father Michael told them. “And you must now choose your path. Remain here to submit, or stay hidden, or else flee from these walls until we find a way to resist the rising dark.”

  Mercer asked the priest, “What do you mean hidden?”

  “Cian, Thomas, Ewan, and I will stay in Tearmunn,” Father Michael said. “You must have a way to know what happens here.”

  “That’s a great risk.” Barrow frowned. “What if you’re discovered?”

  “The cost would be greater if we left with you,” Thomas told him. “If Cian and I went missing, Eira would know her opposition extends beyond a handful of the Guard and she will become much more dangerous. The more confident she is, the more likely we’ll be able to exploit her pride.”

  Father Michael nodded. “And I must remain here and attempt to uncover the origins of this creature who calls himself Bosque Mar. Without knowledge we cannot send him whence he came.”

  “Take Sawyer with you.” Lora gently pushed the woodcutter toward Kael. “He can’t be found here. Hide him in a town along the way if you must, but make sure he’s beyond Eira’s reach.”

  “Of course,” Kael said.

  Lukasz’s command came in a hushed tone. “Those who choose to leave, ready your horses. We’ll take our leave of the stable and leave two at a time by the way of the shepherd’s door at the rear of the keep. Father Michael, Thomas, and Lora will keep watch, alerting us if any of our pairs garner unwanted attention.”

  Wordlessly the circle broke up, leaving in a rush, others stumbling away as if in a drunken stupor.

  “Go to Caber now,” Barrow said quietly. “There’s little time.”

  Ember nodded, but Barrow was already walking away, leaving her to find her own way to her horse. After gathering her tack and empty packs to tie onto the saddle, Ember went to Caber’s stall. Though the saddlebags were empty, Ember hoped that she might find the means to fill them along their journey. She kept her mind blank, focused only on readying Caber. Too much had happened in a small space of hours. Events that threatened to break her heart and shatter her mind. She couldn’t think about Sorcha. Or Alistair. Any crack in her emotional wall and she would collapse into a rubble of grief. There was no time to let that happen.

  Caber greeted her with a hearty snort. His attitude contrasted to her brittle spirit. A midnight ride presented the stallion with a much welcome adventure as opposed to the frightening flight that it posed to Ember. She saddled and bridled Caber quickly, despite his attempts to frolic in the confines of the stall. The horse’s eagerness to be out of the stables helped to lighten Ember’s mood; at least she’d have one companion in good spirits.

  “Ember.” Barrow stood on the other side of the stall door. In the darkness Toshach was a massive shadow behind the knight. Caber whinnied a greeting to the other stallion.

  “Hush.” Ember clicked her tongue at Caber as she stepped out of the stall. “Don’t you know we’re embarking on a clandestine journey?”

  Caber snorted, shaking his mane.

  She turned back to Barrow. “Are you leaving?”

  “Soon,” he told her. “But not without you. We should lead the horses to the back gate.”

  “We’re riding together?”

  Barrow quietly said, “Unless you’d prefer another’s company.”

  “No,” she whispered. “Of course not.”

  Ember reached her hand toward him. He took her fingers and lifted them to his lips. The gentle touch sent a quivering through her limbs. Feeling her throat close, Ember pulled free of his light grasp. She couldn’t let emotions wash over her, even those she would welcome. It was too dangerous.

  Barrow led Toshach forward, giving Ember room to bring Caber out of his stall. She brought the stallion alongside the other horse, and they walked together from the stables. Through the quiet night the two knights and their mounts passed the training field and the rear side of the barracks and the manor.

  Lora was waiting by the shepherd’s door.

  “Lukasz and Kael are away,” she whispered, opening the door for them. “Fitch and Mercer will follow you soon. Godspeed.”

  Ember took Caber through first and then Barrow went with Toshach. Lora closed the door, leaving them between the outer wall of
Tearmunn and the cold wind that swept through the glen. They stood quietly, neither moving to mount the horses.

  When Ember sighed into the night wind, Barrow reached out and touched her face. The warmth of his hand on her cheek drew out her fear.

  “What will happen to us?”

  He dropped Toshach’s reins and pulled her close. “I don’t know. None of us do.”

  “Would you think poorly of me if I confessed that I’ve never been so frightened as I am now?” she whispered.

  “Would you think ill of me for offering the same confession?”

  A sound, part laugh, part sob, welled from her chest.

  Barrow kissed Ember’s forehead, then leaned down and brought his mouth to hers. She grasped his shirt, pressing her body into his, letting his warmth briefly drive away the wind’s frigid breath.

  When they parted, he said, “The road ahead is unknown to all. I cannot offer you wisdom or guidance. Only the promise that I will never leave you.”

  Ember pulled his face to hers, kissing him again before she said, “Your strength gives me courage.”

  He smiled gently. “No, Ember, that is all your strength and none of mine.” She balked, but he kissed her, murmuring against her lips, “And that is why I love you.”

  Still wearing a smile, but one that now hinted of mischief, Barrow left her speechless as he swung into the saddle.

  “We must away, Lady Morrow.”

  Though her limbs had been rendered unsteady by his words, Ember lifted the reins over Caber’s head and climbed into the saddle.

  They set off at a dead run, and their horses were soon lathered from the pace. Two riders flying over the earth as if trying to escape the very night.

  Ember turned to look over her shoulder, watching as Tearmunn shrank with distance. Looking away with a twinge of regret, she urged Caber forward and set her mind to the east, to a world unknown and a future unwritten.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am deeply grateful to the many people who worked tirelessly to bring Rift to life. The intuition and kindness of my agents, Richard Pine, Charlie Olsen, and Lyndsey Blessing, never ceases to amaze me. My publisher, Michael Green, renews my spirit with his enthusiasm and faith in the worlds I want to build. The incredible team at Penguin Young Readers makes all aspects of a book’s life enjoyable, and I’m beyond fortunate to have so much talent and energy surrounding me.

 

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