Eye of Truth

by Lindsay Buroker

  The cloaked figure did not lift a hand or acknowledge his approach. Zenia worried Jev might have been mistaken.

  “We’re not going to have to fight Points again, are we?” Rhi asked, riding up the slope beside Zenia.

  “Points?”

  “The elf. With the pointed ears. You haven’t heard that term?”

  “No, but I don’t usually arrest elves. Even half elves have been seldom seen in the city since the war began.”

  “True.”

  When Jev reached the top of the hill, the rider pushed back his hood, and silver hair spilled to his shoulders.

  “You decided on a cloak?” Jev was asking when Zenia rode up. “After roaming through the city and the countryside in your distinctive warden greens?”

  “Your cousin gave it to me and suggested I wear it around your land in case people saw me.”

  “And you listened to her? I’m positive I made the same suggestion.”

  “Yes, but she’s female.”

  “So, her suggestions are more worth listening to?”

  “They’re harder to say no to. Even though I attempted to refuse, she thrust the cloak, a blanket, fire starters, food, a canteen, and round, flat sweet wafers into my arms.”

  “Cookies,” Jev suggested. “You’ve heard the men speak wistfully of them.”

  “Ah. Regardless, it seemed rude to completely reject the suggestions of someone outfitting me for camping, as she called it, on your property.”

  “What do elves call it?” Rhi asked.

  The elf—what was his name? Lornysh?—turned his cool blue eyes toward her, and Zenia feared drawing his attention hadn’t been wise. He’d been chatting easily enough with Jev, but memories of that swift—and depressingly one-sided—attack flashed through Zenia’s mind.

  “Living.” Lornysh tilted his head toward Zenia and Rhi, then looked to Jev.

  “Yes, introductions are in order, aren’t they? Reintroductions. Inquisitor Zenia Cham.” Jev pointed at her, then at Rhi. “And monk Rhi She-didn’t-tell-me-her-last-name.”

  Rhi snorted. “Lin. Sexy, isn’t it?”

  “These are the women who arrested you yesterday,” Lornysh said.

  “Elves are known for being observant,” Jev told Zenia.

  “Are you still under arrest?” Lornysh ignored the aside and gazed coolly at the women.

  Zenia found his chilly gaze uncomfortable and believed she would have even if they hadn’t fought before.

  “No,” Jev said. “I’ve been questioned, and now I’m being followed.”

  “Then they are still enemies.”

  “Not entirely.” Jev looked at Zenia, and she flushed as she remembered the ear nibble.

  It was growing darker, so she wasn’t sure if she truly saw the elf wrinkle his nose in distaste, but he oozed distaste regardless of nose activity.

  “Have you seen Cutter?” Jev asked him. “Is he all right?”

  “Briefly, this morning. He sensed someone had called upon rock golems and went out to investigate.”

  “Yes, that was Master Grindmor's work, I believe. I have a story to tell him.”

  “If the female dwarf he wishes to apprentice to is involved,” Lornysh said, “I’m sure he’ll be interested.”

  “He’s always interested in my stories. They’re scintillating.”

  The elf’s eyebrows twitched.

  “My charm works on elves too,” Jev told Zenia.

  “Clearly.”

  “I have something to show you on your family’s land, Jev.” Lornysh turned his horse away from the city and started it forward at a quick pace without waiting for a response.

  “Did you do research about my problem even though I told you to relax and enjoy yourself?” Jev nudged his horse into a trot to catch up with him.

  Zenia did not want to rush to keep up and be seen as an eavesdropper, but she also didn’t want to miss the conversation. Even though she no longer mistrusted Jev, Sazshen would want her standing at his side if he received any information about the artifact.

  “Last night, I listened in on several conversations among the people who live in your castle,” Lornysh said.

  “Did they know you were listening in?”

  “No. Most of them were talking about the death of the king and the princes and whether Targyon was somehow responsible.”

  “Uh, he’s been in Taziira with the rest of us for the last two years. Him somehow plotting his cousins’ deaths is about as likely as me stealing an artifact from across an ocean.” Jev glanced back at Zenia.

  She thought about retorting, but the elf responded first.

  “Yes, he never seemed ambitious and impatient in the way of many young humans,” Lornysh said. “Regardless, people were discussing current events rather than butlers who disappeared years ago. I did interact with your cousin when she was piling provisions into my arms, and I asked her directly if she knew anything about the missing man or the package. She said she wasn’t living there at the time but remembered your butler well and thought it was odd that he left without word. It was almost as if he’d gone missing in the same way your mother had. He had always been loyal to your family, and your cousin recalled a time when he’d discussed with your father that he hoped to be interred in your family’s cemetery, in a small place reserved for honored servants. Apparently, your mother had promised this honor to him before she disappeared. She said your father hadn’t seemed pleased by this, but he hadn’t objected either.”

  Zenia wanted to know about Jev’s mother—when had she gone missing? Had she literally disappeared from the castle one day? Without anyone having a clue where she went? Or had she run off with another man, and everyone was being polite by using disappeared as a euphemism? And was it possible her disappearance tied in with the greater mystery of this missing butler? And the missing artifact?

  Zenia thought about asking Jev for more details about his mother, but it might be better to keep a few ideas to herself, especially with the hostile elf in earshot. And she admitted that her pride would like it if she were the one to solve the mystery and find the artifact.

  “That was all she knew,” Lornysh said. “I roamed your castle, including all the cellars, last night, looking for clues. Mostly, I learned that you have some interesting art and pottery from past eras and quirky tapestries that seem far more recent. Your accountant’s books were particularly dry and not useful.”

  “I could have told you that,” Jev said. “He manages all the family’s holdings. His ledgers are basically lists of people paying rent and of repairs made to buildings.”

  The men fell silent as another group of riders, these heading toward the city, passed them on the highway. People traveling to the capital for the next day’s coronation festivities?

  “I thought that if the artifact had been sold or some bribe had been made,” Lornysh said, “it might be listed in a ledger from the time.”

  “Ah. But there was nothing?”

  “Nothing. This morning, I walked around the estate. That is when I found something that you might believe interesting.”

  Several moments passed with only the clip clop of the horses’ hooves breaking the silence.

  “Are you going to tell me what it is?” Jev asked.

  “I’m going to show you.”

  “It’s a surprise, is it?”

  “I believe it would be best if I didn’t taint your perceptions with my own thoughts. You should see it and contemplate it on your own.”

  Jev didn’t respond, and the two men fell silent again.

  Zenia let her horse drop back so she could ride beside Rhi, who sat with her bo across her thighs as she looked left and right into the deepening night. They passed the village that had been attacked, dark rubble marking buildings the golems had stomped into pieces. Zenia wondered if Grindmor knew how much damage they had caused or if the Fifth Dragon people had guided them after she called them into existence.

  “You think we’re actually going to find the arti
fact before the coronation?” Rhi asked quietly.

  “I hope so, but I think that I will, with my Order-provided power as an inquisitor, talk to people around the castle while those two go look at whatever is outside.”

  “Do you want me to loom threateningly by your side while you do it? Or go keep an eye on them?”

  Lornysh’s head seemed to turn—it was hard to tell since he’d pulled up the cloak’s hood again. Did he object to the idea?

  “We’ll see,” was all Zenia said aloud, but she gave Rhi a firm nod.

  Lornysh stopped his horse about two hundred meters from the castle, its dozens of wall and walkway lanterns spilling yellow puddles of light onto the moat and pond. He pointed to the left of the road, toward dark land where neither village nor stable nor outbuilding lay.

  Jev raised his eyebrows, puzzled as to what his friend could have found out there besides cows or sheep.

  “I will take you in that direction,” Lornysh said.

  “We’ll need lights if we’re going tramping around in the woods at night. We lowly humans can’t see in the dark.”

  “I can light the way if the female does not.” Lornysh pointed at Zenia’s chest, presumably suggesting she could illuminate their surroundings with her dragon gem.

  She wasn’t wearing it openly, but she’d found another chain to attach it around her neck.

  “The female?” Jev asked. “That’s Zenia. I introduced you.”

  Zenia and Rhi had been riding several paces behind, but they caught up now, drawing to a stop.

  “Is she not female?” Lornysh asked.

  “Yes, but I hear inquisitors like to be called by names rather than gender labels.”

  “They are an uppity folk,” Rhi said.

  Jev expected Zenia to glare at her, even if it was a mock glare, but her thoughtful gaze was focused on the castle.

  “Jev, I wish to speak with your kin,” she said, shifting her gaze to him. “While you follow your… friend into the night. I’m more equipped to question people than he is, and you yourself said the answers would likely be among them, right?”

  “They’re more likely to know where Corvel went,” Jev agreed. “But I’m not sure my father will let you roam around the castle. I assume Lornysh roamed sneakily rather than openly.”

  “Let me?” Zenia lifted her chin. “I assure you, he will not impede an investigation by an Order-ordained inquisitor. In fact, he may be the first person I will question.”

  “That should go well,” Jev said dryly.

  Her chin did not lower.

  “I already asked him about Corvel,” Jev said. “He didn’t know anything.”

  “That he told you about, perhaps. I shall see what he knows.” Zenia touched her chest where the dragon tear rested.

  Jev grimaced. He did think Zenia could question his family more effectively than anyone with pointed ears, especially these days, but he worried his father wouldn’t bow and scrape sufficiently for her inquisitor tastes. He might throw her into the moat if she tried her magic on him.

  Still, what could he do to stop her? She had her mission and was driven by it. All he wanted was to find the damn artifact so he could foist it off on someone else and no longer have to worry about being attacked for it. Or about someone he cared about being attacked.

  “You’re welcome to try him if you wish,” Jev said, “but honestly, I’d start with Mildrey, the cook. She knows the gossip on everyone on this estate, including what’s going on with the villagers and their families. My grandmother Visha might know a few things too. She’s lived here since my parents were married more than thirty years ago. You just have to convince her not to wander off onto whatever topic comes to mind. She’s a bit…”

  He rocked his hand, not sure how to explain his grandmother’s mental state. All he knew was that she hadn’t changed much in the years he’d been gone.

  “I’ll keep your suggestions in mind. Thank you.”

  Zenia maneuvered her horse past them and headed for the drawbridge. It amused him that she would go straight into a zyndar stronghold by herself without even asking for an introduction. True, she had been in the courtyard the day before, but it wasn’t as if she had done anything then, with her two steam wagons full of watchmen at her back, to endear herself to the family.

  “You are not going?” Lornysh asked Rhi, sounding like he wanted her to go.

  “Someone has to keep an eye on you two boys,” Rhi said.

  “Boys?” Lornysh asked.

  “He’s never told me,” Jev told Rhi, “but I suspect Lorn of being a few centuries old.”

  “Is that how long it takes for elves to acquire their haughtiness?” Rhi asked.

  “Oh, I think they’re born with that.” Jev smiled at Lornysh to let him know it was a joke, though he doubted Lornysh would be offended either way. He and Cutter were always quick to poke fun at humans, after all.

  “Being a nanny there must be a trying gig.”

  “I’m fairly certain my nanny made the same comment about working here.” Jev waved toward the castle. Zenia had already reached the gate and was speaking to the guard on duty.

  “Working here and watching you? I believe it.” Rhi waved off the road in the direction Lornysh had pointed. “Shall we? I’m sure Zenia will miss my company, so I’d prefer to get this side trip over with as quickly as possible.”

  As Lornysh wordlessly led the way across the cleared field, Jev wondered if Rhi also worried Zenia would run into trouble with his father. He believed Zenia could handle him, just that it would prove trying. Probably for both of them.

  Jev glanced back at the castle a few times as they rode away, not feeling entirely like it was his home. Not the way it once had been. It had changed. Or he had. He still didn’t know what he would do when this ended and his father asked him to take up duties related to running the estate, duties he would be expected to handle by himself one day. Not one day soon, he hoped. He didn’t relish the idea of running all their properties and businesses. His father could go on living forever if he wished.

  A chill breeze blew in from the sea as they wound their way along oft-used trails. For a time, the stars and a half moon provided enough light for them to navigate, but then Lornysh left the trails and headed up a wooded hillside. The leaves blotted out the stars, but soon, a silver glow blossomed from a small magical sphere that floated in the air behind Lornysh.

  Rhi muttered something under her breath.

  They followed a gully that wound farther inland, the trees thick on its slopes, the terrain rugged enough that nobody had bothered to clear it over the centuries. Or maybe previous zyndar primes had simply wanted some trees to remain on the property for shade and windbreaks. And scenery.

  Jev and Vastiun had played in this area as children and even camped out a few times during the summers, so the territory remained familiar, but the gully stretched farther than he remembered. Had he never traveled back this far? He thought he’d covered all of the family’s thousands of acres numerous times in his life.

  A creek trickled out of a side gully, and Lornysh dismounted. He murmured something to his horse, lifting his hand in a staying motion.

  “The foliage will be too dense for the horses,” he said, then started up the creek, finding rocks and logs on which to place his feet between dense ferns.

  Jev shrugged at Rhi and followed the example, tying his horse’s reins to a tree and promising to return soon so the creature wouldn’t be stuck in place for long.

  Lornysh had already disappeared, and Jev hurried to catch up. Fortunately, the rustle of clothing sounded, guiding him. As stealthy as Lornysh tended to be in the woods, branches and briar thorns that had never seen an axe scraped and caught at his cloak. Of course, they seemed to do a lot more when it came to Jev’s and Rhi’s clothing, and he struggled to push his way through while keeping from stepping into the creek.

  “What led you up this particularly inhospitable gully?” Jev asked as they pushed on for several min
utes. It had to have been something. Nobody would simply wade through all this in the name of random exploration.

  “You’ll see.”

  Jev was tempted to join Rhi in grumbling—and cursing—under his breath. Lornysh did have a tendency toward the taciturn, but he was being more vague than usual. Because he saw Rhi and Zenia as enemies? People whom he shouldn’t speak openly in front of? Understandable, but—

  A strange zing of energy ran all over Jev’s skin, and he halted. “Uh, Lornysh? Was that you?”

  “It was here before I came,” Lornysh called softly back, though he wasn’t visible through the brush. “Likely since before your family claimed this land.”

  “We’ve been here for almost a millennium.”

  “Yes.”

  From the sound of his voice, Lornysh had continued on. Jev followed, and the energy subsided. A gasp came from behind him as Rhi passed through the spot.

  “What was that?” she asked. “Magic?”

  Lornysh didn’t reply.

  “Either that,” Jev said, “or there’s a plant back here with a kick.”

  He remembered the stinging nettles and biting thorns from Taziira. Their touches had tingled painfully but not in an otherworldly way. Not with strange magical energy.

  The silver light grew brighter, and Jev expected to run into Lornysh’s back any second, into that orb floating behind him. But the gully opened up, the brush growing less thick, and he saw that the light came from a structure up ahead. A stone pillar that looked like a mix between a tree trunk and a giant mushroom stem. Four symmetrically placed branches arched out from the top and glowed softly, shedding light on the clearing. A couple of curving stone benches rested to either side, the leaves of vining plants threatening to obscure them from sight.

  Lornysh stood on the opposite side of the stream. He had let his own sphere of light fade.

  “Is this… has this always been here?” Jev asked. “Doing that?”

  It seemed impossible that the foliage would have completely hidden that silver light at night, that nobody would have noticed this over the years.

  “The stone activates when someone of elven blood comes near,” Lornysh said.