Touch of Power

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Touch of Power Page 19

by Maria V. Snyder


  Dried-out flesh clung to the bones. The man, I think, lay on his side. I bent closer to examine the corpse. Quain made a disgusted sound. As part of my healer training, I had assisted in autopsies and dissections in order to learn about the internal parts and organs of a body.

  However, it didn’t take a healer to figure out what killed this man. A sword had been shoved between his ribs, piercing his heart. He had been murdered. I sat back on my heels, mulling it over. If the grieving public had gotten in here, they would have burned all the records. The door had been locked. Someone who had a key perhaps, or knew of this room’s existence. Too many unknowns at this point to determine why he had been murdered.

  “There’s a broken crate underneath him,” Belen said. “Maybe he was protecting the contents.” He rolled the man onto his back.

  I swept out the pieces and connected the ones marked with letters. There weren’t many. The crate had held Death Lily seeds.

  Chapter 16

  “Why would anyone want Death Lily seeds?” Quain asked.

  “Or more important, why would the Healer’s Guild have these seeds in the first place?” Loren asked.

  “To study them,” I said.

  “Or to find a way to kill them,” Kerrick added.

  Belen moved the dead body and the last bits of the broken crate to the side as if searching for something. “I don’t see the seeds anywhere. They’re gone.”

  “How do you know what they look like?” Quain asked him.

  “When that Death Lily had us in its grip, I had an up close and personal view of its seedpods.”

  Loren cocked his head, staring at the body. “So, public sentiment turns on the healers, and it’s the last days of the Guild. Again, why are those seeds worth protecting? Do you think they might have something to do with the plague?”

  Belen shrugged. “Possible.”

  “Are there any records?” I asked, scanning the crates stacked on the shelves nearby. Nothing.

  “This puzzle will have to wait,” Kerrick said. “The snow is piling up outside.”

  “What about the body?” Quain asked, hefting the crate he had found. “Should we feed another Death Lily? Or don’t they like the crunchy ones?” No one was amused by his sarcasm.

  We retraced our steps and climbed the stairs. Belen closed the door, and leaned a large piece of stone against it. “That should keep the snow and wind out.”

  About four inches of snow had fallen since we entered the record room. Following Kerrick, I noticed the quiet stillness of the forest. I was glad for my fur-lined boots, but worried about our tracks. They would be visible until the winds swept them away.

  Quain saw me glance back and said, “If Kerrick’s not fussing about our tracks, that means no one is close enough to us.” He gazed at his leader. “He always knows where the mercs are hiding in the woods. Do you know anything about that, Avry? Or is it his story to tell?” He shook the crate in his hands. “What other secrets are you hiding from us?”

  I didn’t want to increase his agitation so I didn’t answer. Instead, I wondered if he would have the courage to question Kerrick directly or just make sarcastic comments until I or Kerrick told him.

  No one was surprised when Kerrick led us to a cave. I watched Quain add another uncanny skill to Kerrick’s list. The snow made it difficult to find firewood. All our piles, except Kerrick’s, were meager.

  Dinner was a quiet affair, more so because we were tired from uncovering the records room than because of an all-consuming grief for Flea. The grief would never go away completely, but it would fade into a background ache. Being survivors of the plague, these men had so many people to grieve for; it had to be numbing. Me, too, but I couldn’t claim to be a survivor of the plague since, in another odd quirk of the disease, healers were immune to it.

  Why hadn’t the healers caught the plague, too? We sickened with other ailments like everyone else; we just recovered faster. But there had been no reports of a healer contracting the plague unless they’d assumed it from a victim. At least once we sickened, we were never contagious to others.

  Quain started his questions soon after we had finished cleaning the stew pot. Loren gave him a warning look until he realized that Quain was determined. Then his focus shifted to Kerrick. Belen, too, kept his gaze on Kerrick. I couldn’t read Belen’s expression, which was unusual, or Kerrick’s, which wasn’t.

  “You are going to explain what’s going on,” Quain said. It was a statement not a question.

  Kerrick looked at me.

  “Don’t blame Avry. She didn’t say a word,” Quain said. “I just started putting things together.”

  “What do you think is going on, then, Quain?” Kerrick asked.

  “Don’t you pull that stunt on me. I’m not Flea.”

  “How can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time?” Loren asked him.

  Quain hopped to his feet and loomed over Loren as if he wanted to punch him. Unfazed, Loren peered up at him in amusement.

  Belen chuckled. “He found all the pieces, but can’t put them together.”

  Quain whirled on him, clearly upset.

  “Avry isn’t the only one here gifted with magic,” Belen said.

  Understanding dawned. The furrows in Quain’s brow and bald head smoothed. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Can I quote you?” Loren asked.

  Quain tackled him and they wrestled, rolling on the ground.

  Kerrick peered at his friend. “How long?”

  “Since you were sixteen. Loren and Flea didn’t figure it out until Avry came along and made things…interesting.”

  “Hey,” I said, pretending to be affronted. “If you don’t want interesting, I can leave,” I teased.

  However, his response was dead serious. “But would you? If I sat on Kerrick and let you go, would you?”

  “I gave my word.”

  “Under duress. I’m offering you the chance to walk away. Would you take it?”

  The monkeys stopped wrestling. Everyone’s attention focused on me, burning into my skin.

  Belen wouldn’t shut up. “I watched them arrest you back in Jaxton. You didn’t resist or try to get away. Not the Avry I’ve come to know.”

  “What do want me to say?” I whispered.

  “Do you want to leave?” Belen asked.

  Don’t do this to me.

  “Do you want to leave?” he asked again.

  Conflicted emotions knotted in my throat. I wished to go back and make amends with my sister, but I didn’t want to leave the guys, either. They had become my family.

  “The truth, Avry.”

  “No. Pathetic, isn’t it?” Unable to meet anyone’s gaze, I stumbled out into the snow.

  Breathing in deep lungfuls of damp air, I kept close to the cave’s entrance. Storm clouds blocked the moon, and a silent blackness surrounded the area. Snowflakes struck my face with tiny pricks of cold. While I wished to put distance between me and the others, I knew I’d just get lost in the darkness.

  Although, I already felt lost. Perhaps confused was a better word. Belen forced me to admit I had a reason for living. Since I’d been with them, I’d healed people, found my sister and made a friend. As I gained more incentives to live, I also learned more about the uncertain future of our world. It would be so much easier to agree to heal Ryne if I had nothing to lose.

  Belen’s heart was in the right place. He didn’t know the consequences if I healed Ryne. If he had, it would tear him apart. I was sure that’s why Kerrick hadn’t told him, and I wouldn’t, either. However, I’d made the mistake of getting too attached to them. I needed to keep my distance. To stay uninvolved.

  No one said a word when I returned to the cave. I brushed the s
now from my hair and cloak, then set up my bedroll. Pulling my blanket up to my chin, I vowed to keep my emotions in check. To keep my distance from everyone. To gather as much information about Ryne as I could to make an informed and logical decision regarding him. I would also learn more about the plague, if possible. My confusion was replaced by determination.

  After another full day of snow, the winds came. The fire pulsed, and the cave echoed with the shrill keen of the wind. I passed the time by sorting through the crate Quain had found in the records room.

  The Guild healers had listed all the remedies, medicines and techniques that had failed to heal the plague. Scanning the list, I was impressed by the sheer number of different things they had tried. Each trial had exhaustive notes about the patient’s response. Nothing cured the disease. Although crushed ginger root mixed with white birch sap helped ease the horrible stomach pains—a small concession.

  I created my own list of what I had learned about the plague. It hadn’t discriminated as far as age or gender. No one survived. Those living now never had any symptoms at all. The last known case had been over two years ago. I wondered about the magicians who had survived. Did the plague strike only certain types of magicians?

  “I don’t know,” Kerrick said when I asked him. “A few are in hiding, although I’ve no idea who they are. The others have either joined up with Estrid or Tohon.” He sat next to the fire, repairing the leather tie on his boot.

  “Do you know what their specialties are?”

  He paused, frowning. “Tohon has one earth mage, one rock hound and one fire. Estrid has Jael, a water mage and a moon mage.”

  “What’s a rock hound?” Quain asked between gulps of water. He was taking a break from his practice bout with Belen.

  “They’re magicians whose power is a gift from rocks, gemstones, ore, coal or any hard substance found in the ground or mountains. They can also cause earthquakes if they’re strong enough.”

  “Wouldn’t they be called earth mages?” I asked.

  “No. Earth mages are linked to the soil and the creatures that live in the soil.”

  “I’d rather be a hound,” Quain said.

  “You certainly smell like one,” Loren teased. He stirred the stew.

  After more than a week on the road without being able to do more than splash a few handfuls of water on us, I suspected we all did.

  “Why the nickname?” I asked Kerrick.

  “They’re called hounds because they’re good at finding precious metals and stones. Ryne lost… Three rock hounds died in the Vyg copper mine cave-in. They had helped direct operations.” He glanced at me as if to gauge my mood. “Ryne suspected the cave-in had been caused by sabotage, but then the plague arrived and turned all our other problems into trivialities.”

  Sabotage? That was a little too convenient. “How many magicians are loyal to Ryne?”

  “One.”

  “What about the death mage?”

  “Sepp was on my father’s staff before. He’s loyal to me now,” Kerrick said.

  Ah. Time to ask the big questions. The ones I had been avoiding all along. “You met Ryne in boarding school and would have killed him except for Jael. Now you’re his champion. Why? And what about your own Realm, Prince Kerrick? Why can’t you stop Tohon?”

  Loren and Quain exchanged a surprised glance. They hadn’t known Kerrick’s royal background.

  Kerrick didn’t react. He studied me for a moment, then looked at Belen.

  “Perfect time for you to convince her Ryne’s worth saving,” Belen said.

  With a slight sigh, Kerrick shifted his gaze to the fire. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer my questions, he said, “We called it boarding school for brats, but calling the students brats was being kind. Everyone starts when they’re fifteen years old. The school was supposed to be a neutral ground for the future leaders of the Realms, but all the students brought along their prejudices and grudges. Pranks were aimed to hurt. Alliances, double crosses and fights marked a typical school day.” He quirked a smile at Belen. “Belen and I tried to stay out of it, but it was impossible to avoid it altogether. Jael, Tohon and I became close friends, since we had special classes—”

  Belen coughed.

  “Since we had magic classes together for all six years. We were the only ones in our year gifted with power, but we hadn’t been allowed to tell anyone or use it when we were with the other students. I avoided Ryne. Our fathers didn’t get along, and had been fighting about the location of the border between our Realms for years. Plus it seemed Ryne was always in the middle of all the intrigue.”

  “He was,” Belen said. “But not for the reasons you had thought.”

  “At the time I didn’t know that Ryne was always one step ahead of the various plots and schemes, and he ruined most of them. He has a unique talent for strategy and tactics. He tried to keep the peace, but everyone hated him, anyway. Even me.”

  “What changed your mind?” I asked.

  Kerrick stared at the fire. “During the final year of school, the instructors give the senior students a challenge to crown a king of the school. Basically, a few people try to convince, bribe or intimidate their peers to pledge allegiance to them until they have the majority. Ryne, Tohon, Stanslov and Cellina of Lyady all campaigned to be king. I didn’t care who won. By that time, Jael and I were engaged. We pledged our support to Tohon early in the year and I planned to stay uninvolved with the whole king nonsense.” He added another log to the fire, sending sparks flying. His movements were stiff with tension.

  I sensed he wouldn’t finish the story. “Then what happened?”

  “Stanslov happened.” Kerrick growled the words.

  “Stanslov’s king campaign,” Belen said. “About midyear, Tohon told Kerrick that Ryne had bet Stanslov three supporters that Stanslov couldn’t get Jael to break off the engagement. Stanslov was supposed to leave her after the contest, but he fell for her. Hard.”

  “And when Kerrick found out about Ryne’s bet, he lost his temper and tried to kill him,” I said, guessing how the rest of the story played out.

  “Almost succeeded, too,” Kerrick said with a tight voice. “Jael stopped me. She told me Ryne hadn’t made the bet with Stanslov. Tohon had, after he failed to lure her away from me.”

  Double betrayal. No wonder he kept his distance.

  “Tohon wanted me to go after Ryne since he was Tohon’s strongest competition for king. Too bad I couldn’t kill Tohon.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” Belen said.

  Kerrick rubbed the scars on his neck.

  “What happened?” Quain asked. He and Loren had been intently listening to the story.

  “Life magicians have an affinity with all living creatures,” Belen said. “Tohon called an ufa to protect him against Kerrick’s attack. They were fighting outside, behind the stables so the teachers couldn’t see them. The ufa almost ripped Kerrick’s throat out. I spent two weeks nursing Kerrick—who should have known better to challenge a life magician—back to health.”

  Seemed odd the school wouldn’t have a healer on staff. Especially with such important students. “Wasn’t there a healer there?”

  “Called away for an emergency,” Belen said.

  I mulled over the information and found an inconsistency. “Why was Ryne winning when you said everyone hated him?”

  “He convinced his supporters with logic and honesty,” Kerrick said. “By that time everyone was sick of being deceived and not knowing who to trust.”

  “And how did he convince you?” I asked.

  “He visited me every day when I was recovering. He exposed the people who had orchestrated and caused the most trouble over the years. Jael and Tohon. As the youngest of three siblings, Jael would never gain power of Bavly Real
m. She planned to marry me so she’d eventually be Queen of Alga. When she realized Stanslov would be easier to manipulate, she changed her strategy.” Kerrick fisted his hands and tapped them against his thighs. He met my gaze for the first time since telling his tale. “I ignored and refused to see what was going on around me all those years.”

  Was he implying I had been doing the same thing?

  “Who became king?” Loren asked.

  “Ryne won,” Belen said. “He had gained all but three students’ support.”

  Easy to guess the three. Interesting how Jael and Tohon were still causing problems.

  “Okay, so you and Ryne graduated and returned to your respective Realms. Why aren’t you there? Helping your people?” I asked Kerrick.

  “I was there for two years, dealing with the plague and the waves of marauders.” He rubbed his face as if he could wipe away the memories. “We didn’t have the manpower to keep them out, and they terrorized and stole provisions from the survivors. They killed, as well. But they were hard to find and counter. They fought like the tribal people in the north.”

  “Smart bastards,” Belen agreed. “They were in position to storm Alga castle and there was nothing we could do other than dig in and die fighting.”

  “I sense a happy ending,” Quain said.

  “We were saved by—”

  “Ryne,” I said, guessing.

  “Not him in particular,” Belen said. “But he sent a… What did he call it?”

  “An elite squad,” Kerrick said.

  “That’s it. They were just a handful of very well-trained soldiers, but man, they outsmarted the marauders, striking at night, targeting the leaders. By morning, the marauders were gone. Amazing.”

  “He sent a few more elite squads, and in a couple months Alga was free of the threat and we started rebuilding,” Kerrick said. “After everything settled down, I handed leadership of the Realm over to my younger brother, Izak, so I could join Ryne in helping the other thirteen.”

 

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