“Is that why?” Moon smiled. “That’s touching. As I said, a noble thought. But do keep things in perspective. That was you. From what I’ve seen of you, you are a kind, honorable, and even generous man…”
Kefier laughed. She coloured. “Don’t! Maybe you don’t appreciate it, but I do. That kusyan, with the amount of agan she possesses, wouldn’t be so attached to you otherwise. But another boy might have knifed your friend in the back while he slept.” She kept her mouth shut after that, but Kefier could read the thought in the back of her mind—that she believed the boy was about as trustworthy as her example.
They reached a small fishing village by noon. It was nestled quietly in one of the satellite lakes north of Enji, or so Sapphire proclaimed, pointing at the map with a vehemence that suggested she had gotten her and Moon lost more than once in the past. A lanky, brown-skinned Gasparian met them. He had the crinkly eyes of a Jin. “We’ve been waiting for you, Sang Safira,” he said in a language that sounded close enough to Jinsein, but not quite. Kefier understood it, but he would have been hard-pressed to answer immediately.
Sapphire snorted and directed Kefier to dump the packs on the ground. “We were greatly delayed. A vagrant Jin we hired turned out to be less reliable than Moon figured. He ran off with our gear and our horses.”
“I only pointed out, Sapphie, that there was less chance of him being the sort of vandal we usually don’t like to trust along the road,” Moon huffed. “Clearly I was wrong.”
“And he is more reliable, is that what you’re saying?” the Gasparian asked, looking pointedly at Kefier.
“Hardly. We were left with no choice. Are your men ready?”
“They will be ready. You will wait here and have some of my mother’s shrimp cakes in the meantime. She started adding cinnamon. You’ll like it. Is your man coming with us?”
“Yes,” Sapphire said. She still looked pale at the mention of shrimp cakes.
The Gasparian jerked his head back. “I’ll need to talk with you about crossing. The boy, too?” He glanced at Dai, and noticed Xyl for the first time. It was clear that he had a lot of practice pretending to be unsurprised in front of the mages, because he hardly blinked.
“Dai, walk with us.” Kefier motioned to him and followed the man to the shore, where a boat was moored along a pathway of rotting logs that served as a dock.
“My name is Dalgon,” the man said, placing one hand on his shoulder. “I have served as guide for the mages of Enji for many years, as my father and his father before him. Have they spoken to you about what we are to do on this route?”
“They tell me nothing,” Kefier said in a tone that made Dalgon laugh. Dai appeared just then, his face impassive.
Dalgon nodded, appreciating the joke more than he should. “This is how we’re going to do it. My cousins and I will take you as far south on Lake Maranga as we can, then we will walk the rest of the way to Enji. Normally I take four cousins, but Sang Safira has failed to inform me that there are more of you, so we shall have to do with two. I will need your shoulders—the boy and the women will have to wrestle with the packs.”
Kefier smiled. “I think they can handle that.”
“We’ll probably reach Enji tonight. We’ll camp near the shore and head on its waters tomorrow morning. This is important. There are streams along the campsite that will suffice for your morning routine. Do not touch the lake itself. Do not go near the shores barefoot. Understand?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The mages have worked on it so long ago that these ones don’t even know what spells are out there. It could be nothing, it could be anything. I had an ancestor who used water from the lake to boil the stew, the next day he broke out in scales before he died. Another ate mushrooms he found by the shore and lost his voice. Then again there is a rumour of a pirate who fell asleep in his boat, allowing his hand to touch the water. The next day he scratched himself and his manhood fell off.”
He said it in such a serious voice that even though Kefier felt inclined to laugh, he didn’t. He nodded, and Dalgon, pleased with this response, continued. “That’s the hearsay. Here’s the truth—that water, or something on it, eats at the boat. We carry a large amount of resin to patch it up if we have to but we would like not to have to. I will need you all to keep still. Boy, don’t be going around jumping at every fish splash you see.
“When you talk, speak in a low voice. We don’t want to trigger the alarms. If you see anything strange—a glimmer of light in the water, or something strange in the air, tell me. We need to know immediately so we can steer the boat away from it. We’re all sensitive to different spells and you never know if you’re the only person in a boat who can sense something’s up.
“If you get frightened, don’t say so. Talk in a soothing voice. Say this: ‘Spirits of the lake, grant me passage. I am a friend of the mages. I am a friend of Lord Bannal the Mighty and all his blood stands for.’ Not those exact words, but something close. This is particularly important when we reach the island. The spells are stronger the closer you get to the towers. We’re allowed to go as far as the shore, but we can’t even accompany you folks deeper in. We’ve tried that before and we won’t ever again.” He smiled, showing crooked teeth, and patted his bare belly. “Now, don’t let all of that scare you. We rarely have incidents. These two have done this crossing alone many times before and they can detect most spells and ward them off before they reach us. Sang Safira may not look like it but she is well known for her skills. If she says you may walk with her to the towers, the wards should respect that and allow you entrance. I have to tell everyone this, though, because I don’t want someone getting scared and killing us all. If you don’t feel like you need to be there, tell me now.”
Kefier glanced at Dai, who remained silent. “We’ll be okay,” he said slowly. “We’ll follow your procedures.”
“Very well then. Get ready, we’re heading out after lunch.” The man crossed his arms and walked off to check on the state of Sapphire and his mother’s shrimp cakes.
The waves broke against the boat in flurries. It was almost dawn, but the mist surrounding them hadn’t cleared. That concerned Kefier. Everything had concerned Kefier ever since Dalgon’s talk by his village. He hadn’t slept a wink; every little sound jumped at him, and he ended up having to tie his sword arm to his leg so he wouldn’t feel inclined to hack away into the night.
Now, he still felt the same way, even with Dalgon’s reassurance that everything was going well so far. He shifted the pack at his feet and glanced at Dai. The boy was sitting beside Xyl with his hands on his knees. His face was deathly calm. A memory flickered in the back of Kefier’s mind, but he quickly squelched it. “How are you holding up?” he whispered.
The boy glanced at him. “I feel sadness,” he replied, turning to the still lake. Then, as if almost ashamed that he had spoken at all, he turned red and lowered his head.
“Ignore that,” Dalgon murmured, continuing to paddle with long, low strokes. “Mayhaps you’re feeling only melancholic. But it’s probably got something to do with the spells. You never know, you understand. A heavy feeling in one turn, then prickly skin the next—”
“There’s probably less than what most people think,” Sapphire murmured. Dalgon glanced sharply at her, but if there was something on her mind she didn’t say—she just kept her thin lips tight.
“With all due respect, Sang Safira, but my family has been providing transport for the Enji mages since Gashi Raggnar’s time. You might have grown up in the island itself, but that doesn’t mean you’ve seen all the lake and its mysteries. Those ancient mages were frightened of more things than we can imagine.”
“What were they afraid of?” Dai suddenly asked. The way he said it made Kefier lean forward, a cold shiver running over his arms.
Dalgon glanced at the horizon. “We are in a strange, scarred land, little dragon. Someday, perhaps, I’ll tell you. A time when Sang Safira is not looking at me with murder in her
eyes.” He grinned and continued paddling.
No aberrations greeted them for the rest of the crossing—no strange lights on the horizon, no mermaids leaping over the rocks, no sudden growths on Sapphire’s chin. The boat slid across the soft sand of the island. As Dalgon and his men unloaded supplies, Sapphire picked up her robes and stepped over the rocks towards the edge of the wood. Moon followed her, stopping a few paces away.
“Is everything all right?” Moon asked softly.
Sapphire had her palm close to where the shadows began. Her eyes were dancing. “It is calm. Quiet, even. Call the boy.”
“Dai,” Moon murmured.
Dai approached them, his steps hesitant. Moon smiled sweetly at him. “This won’t hurt,” she said, taking his hand in hers. She slowly lifted it towards the shadows.
Sapphire’s face tightened, but she nodded. “It is safe. The barriers recognize our need for him. Now, the kusyan.”
They called to Xyl, doing the exact same thing with her. Again, Sapphire was not alarmed, and she finally dropped her hands to her side. Kefier took this time to approach them with their packs. “The men are leaving,” he said. “I’ve given them their payment.”
“Stay close to me,” Sapphire said. She stepped into the wood. Dai grimly followed her with Moon and Xyl behind him.
Kefier braced himself under the weight of the pack and took one step forward. The explosion that followed propelled him back, the ground caving in under his feet. Everything had fallen silent. He looked up at the sky and lifted his shaking hands. They were covered in blood.
He rolled to his side, coughing, and saw fire consuming the forest around them. Sapphire and Moon were standing over them, a blue barrier emanating from their hands. Sapphire’s eyes were blazing. “Get up!” she screamed, noticing him staring at her. “Grab them and start moving back to the shore!”
Kefier pulled the cowering Dai to his feet and grabbed Xyl’s arm with the other. He began to walk back, watching as Sapphire and Moon coordinated their movements with him. The flames extended beyond the sand. Everything around them had turned to ash. Kefier remembered Dalgon and his men and glanced out, but he couldn’t see anything except piles of blazing grey and black. He swallowed, hoping they’d gotten out in time. They must have.
They kept moving until they reached the lake, the hot water rising up to their knees. Sapphire’s eyes remained focused on the dying fire, but Moon looked like she was about to cry. Sweat poured from their faces.
Eventually, the fire stopped, and they dropped their hands. The blue barrier disappeared. “That shouldn’t have happened.” Sapphire’s voice was strained. “Something triggered the wards. Something triggered them strong enough to react that way. I didn’t expect that.”
“Do you see Dalgon anywhere?” Kefier asked. “I thought I heard them push the boat back into the water before all of that.”
Sapphire glanced at the empty horizon, and then back at him. She looked irritated. “If they’d gotten the boat out they’d be out there right now staring back at us. If that blaze didn’t pulverize them immediately, they might have tried to make a swim for it.”
Kefier pushed her aside and ran down the shore. The sand was still hot where he walked, and the pieces that got into his sandals pricked his skin until it bled. He reached the heap of rubble where he’d last seen the men. Along the water’s edge floated several pieces of charred clothing and wood. One of the pieces, upon second inspection, turned out to be an arm, soot-black and torn out of the shoulder socket.
His face flickered. He marched back to the others so that he didn’t have to think about wanting to hurl. “What happened here, Sapphire?”
“I don’t know,” Sapphire said, biting her lip. She turned her gaze towards the treetops and at the tower in the distance. “But I suspect we’ll find out soon enough.”
Kefier turned to Moon. “You said we would be all right.”
“I said probably.” Her face was very pale.
“You didn’t say probably. You said—”
“I’ve never seen this before,” she replied. “Please understand. The spells I know of might have gotten us lost, or froze us in our tracks, or made us see things, but this sort of total destruction...“ She swallowed. “There is something wrong. Sapphire, this isn’t an old ward, is it?”
“No. It’s new. Erected right before we left.” Sapphire lifted her hands again. “Someone’s coming.”
Kefier’s hand dropped to his sword before he realized he was trembling. That was unexpected. He had been in situations like this before, and he always remembered a sense of restlessness, of wanting to jump in before he could even see what he was up against, of the feeling of adrenaline from the end of his nose to the tip of his fingers. This time, he couldn’t see straight; he was beginning to feel cold all over. The explosion from not even minutes ago began playing in his head, loud enough that his ears began to tingle.
A dark, bearded man appeared. “Sapphire,” he said. His fingers were glowing a deep purple.
“Vilum.” Sapphire’s voice was strained. “You come armed.”
Vilum cracked a smile. “You tripped the ward, cousin. What have you brought us?”
“A strange ward. An excessive ward.” She licked her lips. “You can see them. Our hired man, a boy, and a kusyan. You just vaporized old Dalgon. Do you realize how difficult it will be to get across the island now?”
“Transportation is easily arranged,” Vilum said. He lifted his fingers and walked towards Dai. “One of your strays triggered the alarm. Not this one. You’re as empty as a vase. You?” He stepped towards Xyl, and paused, his nostrils quivering. “Agan triggered it. No, not this one, either.”
“What are you talking about?” Moon exclaimed. “You set the ward to trigger around agan? Spirits, Vilum, we’re all mages here!”
“Not worth throwing hysterics over, Moon. Your signatures are all registered. No—Bannal had me set it up for a certain kind of agan. She has a lot,” he conceded, continuing to stare at Xyl. “But not the right kind.” He pursed his lips and happened to glance at Kefier. He gazed back at him for a split second. The man’s eyes widened. “This one—a hire, you say? Only?”
“What’s the matter?” Sapphire’s eyes narrowed.
Vilum suddenly grabbed Kefier’s hand. He drew back, but the wiry man’s grasp was stronger than he looked. He felt something hot pulse through his flesh. Vilum finally let him go and he tucked his hand into his sleeve.
“This one triggered it,” Vilum said, drawing his sword.
Sapphire looked surprised. “That can’t be possible. He’s a harmless hire. You’ve got to be mistaken.”
“The ward was too specific. No, it’s him.” Vilum didn’t wait. He threw a spell, locking Kefier’s feet where he stood. He tried to pull his sword out but another spell, this time coming from Sapphire, slammed against his hands and made him drop it. He yelled at her to stop, but she shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, before another spell knocked the breath off him. His senses spun. The last thing he heard was the sound of Vilum’s blade spinning above him.
Chapter Eleven
Never in her life did Sume expect to be face-down on a horse’s mane as it galloped through the midst of her countrymen being cut down by Gasparian swords. The smell of blood filled the air like earth during fresh rainfall, or salt by the shores of Akki. She almost screamed for them and felt a strange desire to grab a sword and stand by their side, though she knew next to nothing about fighting. But she was on a Gasparian horse, heading for a Gasparian manor, and beside her rode Ylir who was carving them a path with his wave-patterned sword. Her thoughts were drowned by the sound of hooves and swords and screaming. Even before she had the time to process them, she found her mount being ushered through enormous gates that thudded as they closed behind her.
“What’s happening out there?” Ylir demanded, his sword arm dripping in blood. Sume noticed for the first time that he had taken an arrow to that side. C
asually, he snapped the end off and jumped off his horse.
A very tall Gasparian came out to meet him. “Rebels. Jinsein.” The man’s Kagtar rolled off his tongue.
“I could see that,” Ylir snapped. “Why weren’t we warned?”
“We’re being blamed for bandit attacks,” the Gasparian said. “A local chief from one of the clans south of the border claims there had been Gasparian raiding parties. His son came by several days ago, demanding recompense. Lord Mhagaza cut his head off and this is their response.”
“Wouldn’t this affect your relations with Jin-Sayeng?”
The Gasparian snorted. “His Holy King hardly cares about these little border spats and these people aren’t royals. If the Dragonlord of Jin-Sayeng himself cared enough to send a message, perhaps we’ll listen, but for Lord Mhagaza to entertain a clan chief?” He clapped his hands and servants appeared to take their mounts from them. He bowed once and led them through an elaborate garden. The stark contrast between the bloodshed five minutes ago and the calm, intricate statues bewildered Sume.
“You’re just going to let them get slaughtered out there?” The sound of her own voice surprised her. Evidently, it caught the Gasparian off-guard, too, because he turned as if just noticing that she was there. A sour expression crossed his face.
“Be silent,” Ylir said quickly. He didn’t look at her so much as he waved at her general direction. “I apologize, Makin. She hasn’t had time to learn her courtesies after I picked her up from one of the ports.”
“A seaside Jinsein? That explains the colouring. I’d heard their women spoke out of turn, but I’ve never had the opportunity to see firsthand.” He leered at her. “There a reason you keeping this around, Ferral?”
Ylir smiled mirthlessly. “Not what you’re thinking, Makin.”
“Really?” Makin looked suddenly amused. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. Then it is true that your master had you castrated. Wait until Sayed hears of this. Speaking of which, Ferral, achan!” He whistled to a veiled woman, who immediately dropped to the ground upon reaching him. “Find her a room in the servants’ quarters.”
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