“Then leave it in the chest,” Calessa said.
“No,” Brannon said. “No, it’s mine and I want it.”
The chest swung open.
* * *
Emory stumbled down the steps to the secret room, not even noticing that he had shoved past Owain in his rush. Brannon paled as he heard the footsteps and slid the mirror into the front of his robes, then slammed the lid to the chest down.
“Don’t – ” he managed.
Emory grabbed him in one arm, and the chest in the other.
He Gated and they were gone.
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
The dust was slowly settling, revealing the ruin that Tallis and Emory had left. Tallis leaned against one tilting pew, trying to catch his breath for the briefest of moments. Then he bolted after Emory and down the stairs. The room was empty except for a wide-eyed, panicky Calessa. He stared around the room as Sienna stumbled down the steps behind him.
“Where is he?” she asked.
“He Gated,” Calessa said. “He – he grabbed Brannon – the chest – ”
Tallis slumped to his knees. He began to cough, and swallowed the blood he could taste in his mouth before Calessa or Sienna could see it. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Owain hesitantly making his way down the staircase. “Where did he go?” Tallis demanded.
“I don’t know.” Owain shook his head. “I don’t. I swear.”
“Tallis,” Calessa said, getting to her feet. “Brannon has the Mirror.”
He looked at her blankly for a moment. “What?”
“The chest – he opened it,” Calessa said. “I don’t know how he did it. Emory said something about him being the Emperor. Brannon said ‘it’s mine and I want it’, and it just – opened. Not ten seconds later, Emory came barreling down the stairs. Brannon shoved the Mirror down into his robes and closed the chest. Then Emory grabbed him.”
Tallis closed his eyes. “I don’t know if it can protect him.”
“It’s not the Mirror’s job to protect the Emperor,” Owain said, then shut his mouth, realizing that he might not want to draw attention to himself.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Tallis yelled.
Calessa stood up and turned her back to Sienna. “Get this damned thing off me,” she said. Sienna blinked at the paper stuck to her skin and frowned, then pressed one hand against it. It took several different spells before she found one that worked and managed to peel it off.
“Nasty bit of work, that,” she said, dropping it. It burst into flames and was gone before it hit the ground.
Calessa sighed in relief. “Much better,” she said. “He did that just before he knocked me unconscious. I couldn’t do any magic at all.” She turned to Owain. “Seriously, Owain, you must know where he went.”
Owain shook his head. “I don’t. He could have gone anywhere; he wouldn’t pick somewhere that I’d know. Especially knowing that I was here with you.”
“Well, shit.” Calessa looked at Tallis. “What now?”
“I don’t know,” Tallis said. “I can’t track him through a Gate. It breaks the path.”
“Almost as importantly,” Sienna said, “now he’s got both Brannon and the Mirror. Which leads us back to the original question: just what was he intending to do with the Mirror once he got it out of the chest?” She looked at Owain as she spoke, with her eyes narrowed.
“Why is that important?” Owain asked. “Once he has the Mirror, he’ll kill that boy. Trust me. I know what Emory is.”
“I’m not sure he will,” Tallis said, “if he knows who Brannon is.”
“The Emperor,” Owain said. “Of course we know he’s the Emperor. Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? Of course Emory will kill him – he wants to be the Emperor himself! He can’t do that while Brannon exists!”
“What is he, stupid?” Tallis burst out. “He can’t just decide to be Emperor!”
“Well, he did!” Owain yelled back.
“Over my dead body!”
“I’m sure he’d love to arrange that!”
“Cut it out!” Sienna snapped. “We’re wasting time! Owain, what is he going to do with the Mirror?”
“I don’t know!”
The argument was cut off by a sudden burst of coughing from Tallis. Calessa caught him before he could fall, as he put his hands up to cover his mouth. It didn’t work the way he intended. “Tallis, you’re bleeding!” Calessa exclaimed, pulling his hands away and wiping the blood off his chin.
“I’m fine,” he managed. “I’ll be all right. Let’s try a few tracking spells. We’ve got to find him.”
* * *
Brannon caught his breath as Emory released him, and he stumbled and hit the ground with a thud. Emory put the chest down beside him, and took a few moments to regain his composure. The normally composed preacher looked awful; his robes were torn and his hair was disheveled. There were several thin cuts across one of his cheekbones, and he was cradling his arm gingerly against his chest.
Brannon took advantage of the moment to look around. He had no idea where they were; the scenery was completely alien to him. From what he could tell, they were in a large cavern of some sort. Rough gray stone closed them on all sides, and it looked like it would be difficult, if not impossible, to reach the cave from the outside. The only light was from some gaps in the rock high up in the ceiling, at least twenty feet above him. It was quite dim inside. The rocks underneath him were damp, and he thought he could hear the distant sound of waves crashing against stone.
The Gate that they had come through had disappeared as soon as they had arrived. He stared at the place where it had been, wondering how to make it come back.
“Now,” Emory said, turning to face him, his expression calm once more, “no one is here to protect you anymore. Open the chest.”
Brannon smirked at him. “Tallis kicked your ass, didn’t he. I told you he would.”
Emory took a deep breath. “You have until the count of three, and after that I’m going to do something very nasty to you. One . . .”
“You promised you wouldn’t,” Brannon said, and despite himself, his voice was shrill with fear. He turned away from Emory, hugging his arms across his chest, wondering desperately what would happen if he opened the chest and the man saw that it was empty.
“I lied,” Emory said. “Adults do it all the time; you’ll learn that as you get older – if you do. Two . . .”
“I won’t open it,” Brannon said. “I won’t, I won’t, I – ”
“Your choice,” Emory said.
“Won’t, won’t, won’t – ”
“Three.”
Brannon screamed and his body curled in on itself. He had seen Emory make a casual gesture with his left hand before it suddenly felt like his skin was melting off his bones. The heat was intense, unimaginable, even though there was no sign of any flame. It was as if he had been set on fire from the inside out.
It stopped suddenly, and he was left gasping for breath, trying to stop the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He realized he was lying on the ground, though he couldn’t recall falling. Emory was standing right over him, and he folded his arms more tightly over his chest where the Mirror was tucked against him. He could feel the silver edges digging into his skin.
“Open the chest,” Emory said.
“Won’t,” Brannon whispered.
“You will now or you will later,” Emory said. “It’s up to you how much pain you endure before you open it.”
Brannon closed his eyes. “Tallis,” he said.
“He can’t help you now.”
The pain began again, and Brannon clutched the Mirror tighter to him and screamed. “TALLIS!”
* * *
Tallis’ body jerked to attention and his head snapped up. He stared at the spot where Emory had Gated, a peculiar, fixed expression on his face.
“What is it?” Sienna asked.
“I know where he is,” Tallis s
aid. His hands were already moving to build the Gate.
“Where?” Sienna demanded.
Calessa tried to be a little more sensible. “Tallis – you can’t Gate in your condition, the strain will be too much for your body – ”
The Gate flared to life before she could finish her sentence, leaving her jaw agape. She had never seen anyone create a Gate so quickly.
Before any of them could say another word, Tallis was through the Gate. Sienna and Calessa hastened to follow, and Owain leapt through before Tallis could close the Gate or any of them could stop him. He landed on hard rock and tumbled, getting to his feet just in time to see Tallis start forward, sword drawn.
“Emory!” he shouted, and Emory dodged to one side, just barely avoiding the swing of Tallis’ sword. He twisted around and hit Tallis squarely in the chest with the spell that he had been preparing to use on Brannon. Tallis flew backwards, and Sienna dove to intercept him before he could hit the cavern wall. They both hit the ground with a thud.
Calessa started towards Brannon, but before she could, Emory stretched one hand out to her, his face contorted as the effort of all the magic he had been using began to take its toll. The spell was weak, but knocked her backwards several feet, where she stumbled over an outcropping of rock and landed on her rear end. Emory turned back to Brannon, who had made it to his feet, and drew a complex sigil with his left hand. Blue lightning arced out from one hand, heading directly towards the boy.
Tallis struggled to his feet, but he knew there was no way he could get to Brannon in time. Instinctively, the boy grabbed the Mirror from inside his robes and held it up like a shield. The spell hit it at full force and for a few moments it seemed like it might absorb the energy, but then there was a loud popping noise as the glass cracked. The Mirror released the magic and sent it hurtling back at its creator.
The spell hit Emory full in the chest; he went flying and slammed into the cavern wall, then slid to the ground and lay still.
Just as Tallis made it to his feet, Brannon collapsed. The Mirror hit the ground with a clank, but did not break. Tallis rushed over and scooped Brannon into his arms, mumbling prayers under his breath as he checked the boy for injuries. Brannon’s face was pale and sweat had beaded on his skin, and his breath was coming in a quick, light gasps. His eyes were closed, but fluttered slightly as Tallis held him. The only visible injury he had was that his hands were badly burned where he had been holding the Mirror.
“Is he all right?” Sienna asked, kneeling beside Tallis.
“I think so,” Tallis said, smoothing down the boy’s hair. He let Sienna take Brannon’s limp form, and stood, heading towards Emory.
Owain had rolled Emory on his back to see if he was all right, and found that the mage’s heartbeat was still strong and steady. He had been knocked unconscious, but was not injured. Owain allowed himself a sigh of relief, and then turned as Tallis approached. He stood up and drew his sword. “No,” he said. “I won’t let you touch him.”
Tallis tried to knock Owain’s sword aside, but Owain deftly avoided this maneuver and countered with a skilled attack. Tallis was forced to take a step backwards.
“I said no,” Owain said, and although his breath was too rapid, he held his ground. “Don’t underestimate me just because I’m not a mage. Your spells won’t work on me and I’ve had twenty years training with this sword. I won’t let you touch him. I won’t.”
“Owain,” Calessa said, and stopped. She tried to think of something to say that might help. “Owain, don’t do this.”
Owain looked at her, then away. He glanced down at Emory, then kicked him in the knee. “Emory, wake up,” he yelled. “Wake up!”
Calessa carefully approached. “Owain, you can’t win,” she said. “Not against three of us. There’s nowhere to run.”
“I don’t care about winning,” Owain said, “or about running. Emory, damn it, wake up!”
Tallis struck forward again. Owain parried and knocked him backwards.
“You can’t beat me like that,” he said. “Not after doing all that magic. You can’t collapse the cavern on me before you might kill everyone here. You can’t do any magic on me directly. You can’t touch me, and I won’t let you take him.” He slammed his foot down on Emory’s hand. The mage twitched, but did not wake.
“We can outwait you,” Tallis said.
“Of course you can,” Owain said. “But this won’t take more than a few minutes.” He kicked Emory sharply in the ribs. “Get your lazy ass up!”
Emory let out a sharp groan and sat up. He looked at Owain, then at the Warders. “Owain,” he said.
“Shut up,” Owain replied.
Emory looked at him another long moment. Then he nodded. Tallis realized a few moments too late what Emory planned to do, and the spell he prepared went around Owain and hit the ground where Emory had been a few moments earlier. But the mage was gone. He had Gated again, and there was no way to track him.
Owain’s sword hit the ground with a clatter. “I surrender,” he said quietly. “You can arrest me now.”
Calessa slapped him across the face. “You’re an idiot!” she snarled.
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “I know.”
Sienna turned to Tallis and saw that he was about to fall over, as he leaned against the cavern wall, trying to keep his breathing slow and even. “Can you get us home?” she asked. “Or do we have to stay here tonight?”
“I’ll get us home,” he said. “I want someone to look at Brannon.”
“Are you sure?” Sienna asked, but Tallis was already building the Gate.
“Get everyone ready,” he said. “I won’t be able to hold it long.”
“Are you just taking us back to the monastery?” Sienna asked. “Or to Nuan Huo?”
“The monastery,” Tallis said. “Brannon needs to get back. He’ll heal fastest in the temple.”
“All right.” Sienna stood up, lifting Brannon in her arms. She looked at Calessa purposefully. With a sigh, the other woman took Owain by one arm. She knew that he wouldn’t struggle, so she scooped up his sword to bring with her. He smiled his thanks at her, and she shook her head at him.
“Let’s go,” Tallis said, and opened the Gate.
* * *
Tallis landed them in the monastery’s front hall, much to the dismay of the monks who were cleaning there. Once they had settled back into their skins, they were quick to fetch the Elder. Much to Tallis’ surprise, Edrich was not alone; Jaron was on his heels as he hurried into the hallway.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Edrich said, seeming much more humble now that there was another priest nearby. “You found him.”
“Of course I found him,” Tallis mumbled, coughing violently. Jaron got a hold of him by one arm and helped him sit down right there on the floor. He handed him a cloth to wipe the blood off his chin.
“Is he all right?” Edrich asked anxiously. “What happened to his hands?”
“We’ll explain everything in a few moments,” Sienna said. “Tallis and Brannon both need medical attention right away.”
“O-Of course,” the Elder said.
“I brought a healer,” Jaron said, brushing aside Edrich’s offers of help. “I figured that Tallis would need one after whatever stunts he pulled today.”
“Brannon first,” Tallis said.
Jaron looked like he might protest, but subsided. “Yes, all right, Brannon first,” he agreed. “I’ll be right back,” he added, and hurried down the corridor. Sienna gave the Elder a quick summary of the events that had occurred.
“Is there any place secure enough to keep this man?” she asked at the end, gesturing to Owain. He was standing by one wall, looking unassuming and saying nothing. “He can’t do magic, but we would still need to physically restrain him.”
Edrich looked rather revolted at the idea. “That is hardly our domain.”
Sienna sighed. “Fine. Calessa, could you take him to the Warder office in Nuan Huo?”
&
nbsp; Calessa nodded, but clearly intended to wait until she was sure that Tallis would be all right. Sienna did not argue with this; they waited a few more moments until the healer arrived. He was another monk, although lesser-ranked than either Edrich or Jaron, wearing plain robes with only a simple gold cord to denote his status as a healer. He checked over Brannon carefully and pronounced him in rather good health given what he had gone through; he was physically and emotionally stressed but not injured beside the burns. One of his assistants bandaged Brannon’s hands, and he turned to Tallis.
“What have you done to yourself this time, hm?” he asked sourly, as he tilted Tallis’ head back to look into his eyes.
“Not my fault,” Tallis said.
“No, I imagine for once it isn’t,” the man conceded. He checked him over, pressing his hands against Tallis’ chest and stomach. “You don’t seem to have broken anything,” he said. “It’s just the usual. Let’s put you to bed.”
Tallis tried to stand up, thus gaining a rather scathing look from the healer. He sat back down. “Let me,” Sienna said. She used magic to lift Tallis into the air, and between herself and the healer, they managed to get him to the monastery’s infirmary.
“Now sleep,” the healer said. “That’s an order.”
“All right,” Tallis said, and was unconscious before he could say another word.
* * *
Brannon sat up suddenly and looked around, edging towards panic. He recognized his surroundings quickly, seeing the gray stone walls of the monastery, the small windows and their rice paper screens. He sagged back against the pillow, and gentle arms helped him rearrange himself. “How’d I get here?” he mumbled. He was not in his usual room; it was much bigger and better lit than usual. After a moment, he realized he was in the infirmary.
“Rest, little one,” a soothing voice said. “You’re safe.”
“All right . . .” Brannon’s eyes slid closed and then opened again as he fought against weariness. His body ached everywhere, and he couldn’t remember why. He blinked up at Jaron in confusion. “How did I get here? And why are you here? Where’s Elder? Where’s Tallis?”
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