“Don’t let him argue,” Sienna’s voice said from the shadows. “I gave him two sugar lumps and a carrot, the glutton.”
Tallis pushed at the horse slightly. “You’re such a shameless beggar,” he said, and the horse whuffled and nudged his shoulder in return.
“This way,” Sienna said, leading her own horse out of the stall. “I saw Brother Kendrick hovering nervously around the back.”
“This just gets weirder and weirder,” Tallis muttered, following along.
Brother Kendrick was taciturn on the journey south, which was just as long as he had said it would be. The trip took them into a wooded area, at which point the road narrowed, forcing them to travel single file. Given that most of them had already spent the day traveling, they were exhausted by the time they finally arrived. In the darkness of the forest, the monastery was only a looming shape in front of them.
Kendrick tried to tell them that they could go straight to their rooms and see the Elder in the morning, but Sienna insisted that they needed to see him right away. After a lengthy argument, Kendrick agreed to fetch him and hurried away, leaving them in an antechamber. The room was rather drab, the walls and floor all made of the same smooth gray stone. Two small windows were carved into the far wall, admitting the chill night air but revealing nothing but blackness. The torches flickered in the slight breeze, making shadows dance on the wall.
“This is magnificent architecture,” Sienna said, examining the stone archway that led to the main hallway. Her voice echoed, even in the small room. “Imagine, a monastery this large out in the middle of nowhere like this.” She straightened up and looked at the others. “What do you think they’re hiding?”
“These are men of the old religion,” Tallis said. “Worshipping the old gods. Not that this precludes subterfuge on their part, but it does generally require some amount of solitude.”
“It doesn’t make sense, though,” Calessa said. “There are small temples dedicated to the old gods in every city. The religion might not be popular, but they don’t need to hide. The persecution of the old religion ended hundreds of years ago.”
Tallis glanced at Sienna. “Maybe we ought to do some snooping,” he suggested.
“Mm,” Sienna said. “Maybe tomorrow night. I’m exhausted.”
“They’re definitely hiding something.” Tallis sniffed at the air, turning in a slow half-circle. “I doubt it can’t wait until tomorrow night. In the meantime – ” He stopped mid-sentence and fell silent as the slow footsteps of the Elder approached.
He entered the room a moment later. “Good evening,” he said. He looked surprisingly composed, given that they had rousted him out of bed. He was wearing the same style of robes as Brother Kendrick, with no adornments. “My name is Edrich. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” He gave them all a shallow bow, barely a nod of the head.
Tallis turned and pressed his left fist against his right palm, the fingers of his right hand straight, in a gesture that neither of the women recognized. He bowed low and spoke some words in a foreign language.
Edrich was startled for a few moments, but recovered quickly and smiled at Tallis. “You are a follower of the old ways,” he said.
Tallis gave him a guilty smile in return. “I don’t always attend the services I should,” he said.
“What is in your heart matters more than all the services in the world,” Edrich said. “I am pleased to see that you acknowledge the old gods. It makes my heart rest easier to put this in your hands.” He glanced over as some monks brought chairs in, and gestured for them to be seated. “I understand that you have all had long journeys,” he added. “I will be brief.”
“What exactly are you putting in our hands?” Sienna asked, sounding a bit uncomfortable with the ceremony.
“There has been a theft,” Edrich said. “You see, we are a large monastery. We hold many artifacts here, both religious and magical. That is part of the reason we are so isolated. Three nights ago, an item vanished from our temple. It is imperative that we retrieve it, yet no one here is equipped for that sort of task.”
“What was stolen?” Sienna asked.
“A chest,” the Elder said. “Not very large. Perhaps two feet long and one foot deep. It is made of the finest sandalwood, with gold edging. It is plain to the eye, yet heavy.”
“And what was in the chest?” Sienna asked, not about to be put off.
“That is of no consequence,” Edrich said, and the three Warders exchanged a glance.
“It might be if whoever stole it manages to open it,” Tallis pointed out.
“They cannot,” Edrich said. He smiled disarmingly and said, “There are impressive binding spells on it. Even the monks here cannot open it.”
“Do you have any theories about who might have taken it?” Calessa asked, seeing that pressing the topic was not going to get them anywhere.
“We certainly do,” the Elder said. “About half a day from here, there is a large – I suppose you could call it a temple. It is built to worship new gods, false gods. The number of followers has been increasing at an alarming rate. It is, if I may be so bold to say, a dangerous cult. I believe the founder is using magic to ensnare believers.”
This sounded far more like a job for a Warder than petty theft, even of a valuable artifact, and the three of them exchanged another glance.
“What makes you think so?” Tallis asked.
“If you should attend one of his services,” Edrich said darkly, “you will understand.”
“What would he need your – ah – chest for?” Sienna asked, her voice clearly conveying her irritation with the fact that the Elder would not tell them what the chest contained. “Especially given your insistence that they can’t open it.”
Edrich cleared his throat. “I do not know,” he said. “It is a relic of the old gods. I cannot imagine what a false prophet such as he would want with it.”
Tallis opened his mouth to ask more about the cult, but saw Calessa carefully conceal a yawn. “Well,” he said, “perhaps you can give us more details in the morning. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“Of course,” Edrich said. “I will have the brothers show you to your rooms. I am sorry that they are only bare accommodations. We, of course, do not possess many of the luxuries you may be accustomed to.”
“As long as we get beds, we’ll be fine,” Tallis said.
“I will be available to give you more details first thing in the morning,” Edrich promised them. He then whisked away into the halls of the monastery.
“Should I snoop?” Sienna asked Tallis in an undertone as a monk led them up the narrow stairs to the rooms. The difference in their height was such that she could only speak directly into his ear when he was two steps below her. Their shadows flickered in the torchlight, and their footsteps echoed. “Tonight? Or wait until tomorrow?”
“Look around a little tonight,” Tallis said. “Don’t put yourself out. Get some rest. We’ll have a lot more questions tomorrow.”
* * *
Chapter Two
The room that Tallis was shown into was slightly less austere than he had expected. It had a desk and a bureau in addition to the narrow futon. Both pieces of furniture were made of the same wood, so dark it was almost black. The room was lit by a small lantern, and there was only one window, a scant three inches across, screened in with rice paper. He opened it and looked outside, but the moon was on the other side of the monastery and he could see very little of the forest. He wondered if they had separate rooms for visitors. The monastery clearly did not welcome guests; however, if they housed important religious artifacts, pilgrims and even priests from the High Temple might come here to worship.
He noted the discrepancy and then shrugged it off, putting his pack down on the bureau. He put a general warding spell on the room that would alert him if someone came in. Though he might have preferred stronger wards, it would have been seen as extremely impolite. After changing out of his clothes and ar
ranging the blankets into a nest on the futon, he crawled down into them and fell asleep almost immediately.
It was not much later when he woke, with the moonlight shining through the small window and splashing across his bed. He yawned and stretched slightly, unsure of why he had woken. For a moment, it had felt like his wards had been tripped, but his magic had quieted back down as soon as it had warned him. He wondered if a mouse had gotten into the room.
There was a click, and a shuffle. He lay quietly, listening. If it was a mouse, it was a damn big one. He opened one eye and gave a quick glance around the room, but most of what he could see was in shadow. The lantern had guttered at some point while he slept. He couldn’t see anyone.
Tallis sat up silently and held one hand out. Light pooled in his palm, and there was a sharp gasp from across the room and a scuffling noise. He swung the light in that direction. While he had no idea what he would see, what he did see was perhaps the last thing he would have expected: his packs were open and strewn across the floor, and a small boy was hiding behind his bureau, peeking out nervously.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
The boy edged further behind the bureau.
“You’re the biggest mouse I’ve ever seen,” Tallis said. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, looking at the boy curiously. He was dressed in a loose orange robe that seemed to be an informal version of the habit the monks wore. Although Tallis could not see him clearly, he guessed that the boy’s age was nine or ten. “You want to come out?” he asked, being careful to keep his voice calm and pleasant.
“No,” the boy said, eyes wide while he watched Tallis.
“It’s hard to talk to you when I can’t see your face,” Tallis said, wondering what such a young child was doing at a monastery.
“Don’t talk to me, then,” the boy suggested in a reasonable tone.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Well, all right,” the boy said. “But promise not to be mad ‘cause I went through your things.”
“Is everything still there and undamaged?” Tallis asked, taking a quick glance at what was on the floor.
“Of course!” The boy bristled. “I’m not a thief.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to be angry, is there,” Tallis said. The boy heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the tips of his toes and edged out from behind the bureau. Tallis let go of the ball of light, letting it hover above them. The boy was quite thin and not very tall, and looked like an entirely normal child, if somewhat out of place. The light was still too dim for Tallis to get a much better look at him. The unexpected guest watched Tallis warily, clearly unsure as to what his next move should be. “Where did you come from?” Tallis asked.
“Downstairs,” the boy said.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes. You ask a lot of questions. Are you nosy?”
Tallis laughed. “Only sometimes. Are you?”
“No,” the boy said. “I’m just curious. Elder says I’m too curious for my own good. You’re Tallis, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” Tallis said, giving him a closer look and wondering how he had known that. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Luan Qiang Yu, but nobody calls me that. The monks call me Brannon ‘cause it’s easier. But don’t tell that I told.”
“All right,” Tallis said, puzzling over the odd name. It sounded like the old language, which was rarely used these days, although most of the older cities were still named in the tongue. Nobody used it for children anymore; few people even spoke it beyond the monks and priests of the old religion. Tallis did know a little of the language, and was trying to recall what those words meant. Something about a strong voice? The name was familiar, too, as if he had heard it somewhere before. He had never been much for studying; if the boy was named after a historical figure from the ancient realm, Tallis was not going to remember who that figure was.
These formalities having been concluded, Brannon went back to examining the contents of Tallis’ packs. He shoved the clothing aside, studied the rations with a slight frown, and his eyes lit up when he discovered the pack of magical paraphernalia. He examined the ink brush, sniffed the herbs, carefully set aside the knife, and eyed the candles.
“Do you frequently go through guests’ bags?” Tallis asked, amused. He glanced over at where his battered sword was lying by his bed, but Brannon seemed uninterested in the weapon.
“No,” Brannon asked, flipping open the book that he had found at the bottom of Tallis’ bag.
“Then why are you going through mine?”
“Because you have neat stuff.” Brannon frowned down at the book. “I can’t read this,” he declared in a disgusted tone of voice, and moved on to the other supplies. Other than a stack of spell paper, there was nothing else. Brannon looked like he was edging towards a sulk. “It was all boring in the end.”
“Give me one of the sheets of paper,” Tallis offered. Looking suspicious, Brannon handed one over. Tallis folded it several times so it took on the vague shape of a butterfly, then breathed onto it. The paper took flight, and Brannon laughed, bounding to his feet to chase after it. The spell danced skillfully out of reach for a moment, then settled on his nose.
“How does it work?” Brannon asked, going cross-eyed as he watched the butterfly flap its wings.
“It helps if you have special paper,” Tallis said. “And then you give it just a little bit of magic.”
“Can I keep some?” Brannon asked, eyeing the paper.
“Sure,” Tallis said. “Do you have any magic?”
“I don’t know,” Brannon said. “I don’t think so.”
Tallis frowned slightly. All children were tested by the Warders by the age of eight to see if they had a magical gift, so they could be given proper training if they did. Though not all of them would go on to become Warders, proper education cut down on misuse and accidents. “You haven’t been tested?” he asked cautiously.
Brannon looked at him in confusion. “Tested how?”
“The Warders have a way to see if you have magic,” Tallis said.
“Oh, I see,” Brannon said. “You’re a Warder, right?”
Tallis nodded. “Can I do the test on you?” he asked.
“No,” Brannon said. “Elder said I’m never to let a Warder touch me.”
“Did he, now,” Tallis said. He watched Brannon play with the paper for a moment. “Where are your parents?” he asked, and Brannon shrugged. “You’re just full of mysteries, aren’t you,” he added. This was met with another shrug. Brannon appeared to be intent on trying to get the paper to take on some type of life. Tallis looked over and saw that Brannon had folded it correctly, clearly in imitation of what he had done to make the butterfly. “Try what I did,” he suggested.
Brannon gave him another wary look, but drew the paper close to his mouth and gave it a puff of air. Nothing happened. “This is dumb,” Brannon muttered, dropping the paper to the floor. “I should go back to my room,” he said. “Or else I’ll get in trouble. Are you here to try to find what was stolen?”
“Yes,” Tallis said. “Do you know what was in the chest?”
Brannon squared his shoulders. “I know everything that happens here,” he said proudly.
“Well, good for you,” Tallis said, amused. “Was that a yes or a no?”
“It’s a secret,” Brannon said. “Anyway, I’d better go.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Tallis said. He watched Brannon carefully, but he had no idea exactly what happened – one moment Brannon was standing there, and then he melted back into the shadows. There was a slight click, and then he was gone. Tallis got out of bed and examined the corner, but saw no signs of a secret passage. “Isn’t that interesting,” he said to himself, before settling in to try to get a little more sleep.
* * *
Calessa was putting her hair up when there was a soft knock on her door. She was proud of her hair, which hung down to her waist in dark b
rown ringlets, but when she was working it had a tendency to get in her way. “Come in,” she said, turning to face Tallis and Sienna as they walked in. “I was just about to head to your room,” she said to Tallis with a laugh.
“You take the longest to get ready,” Sienna said, amused. She was dressed plainly, in a tunic and long-sleeved men’s shirt, and her mouse-brown hair was done up in a hasty bun. Her spectacles sat squarely on her nose, and were slightly crooked. She cast an approving glance at Calessa’s clothing; the other woman had decided to not torment the monks and was dressed in a similar outfit with no visible cleavage. “We figured we would get a head start on you. You know that once we’re under the watchful eyes of the brothers, we aren’t going to be able to talk.”
“I’m wounded,” Calessa said, amused. “And I had to use a pocket mirror to do my makeup. I must say that the religious life is not for me.”
“I can’t help but wonder who the religious life is for,” Sienna remarked.
“Some people get a calling,” Tallis said. “And some people just hide secrets. I had an interesting adventure last night.”
“You, too?” Sienna asked, amused. “Should I give my report, or do you want to go first? You look like you’re bursting to give your news.”
“Just for that, you go first,” Tallis said.
Sienna let out a soft snort. “I haven’t been to many monasteries in my life,” she said, “but I’ve certainly never been to one like this. There’s a maze of secret passageways and tunnels in this place. I almost got lost, which is practically unprecedented.”
“If I know you,” Tallis said, “you’re going to spend the rest of your time here trying to make a map.”
“Already started,” Sienna said, gesturing with a bit of rice paper. “But I don’t think I explored even one quarter of what’s here. I wanted to sleep before sunrise.”
The Emperor's Mirror Page 2
