Just the opposite. A small group of them rode away from the temple at great speed, coppery-red dust rising in their wake. I limped over to where Deo was shouting an order for his horse.
“I know you love a fight, Deo, but even you can’t be crazy enough to want to chase down Harborym,” I said, struggling to catch my breath and rubbing a spot on the side of my thigh where one of the monsters had kicked me. “Now that we’re all together again, we’ll take them down sooner or later.”
Deo turned a face of fury to me. “They have a prisoner with them.”
“Really? I didn’t think they took prisoners.” Idly, as I massaged my aching thigh, I looked around for Hallow. The line of priests was in disarray now as they clumped together in groups, tending the wounded and dead.
Deo took one of my arms, saying softly, “They did this time. They took Hallow.”
Ice took hold of me, the frozen chill of complete, all-consuming rage, beginning at my heart and creeping outward along my veins with frosty fingers until my entire body felt as brittle as glass. “Then they will die,” I swore, and turning, ran to find Buttercup.
Chapter 18
The darkness that held Hallow eased a little, awareness coming slowly to him. Something was not right with his body. For one thing, there was the pain that rippled down his arms and back. Then there was the fact that he couldn’t feel his hands. And lastly, there was a voice in his head.
Did I tell you that she kissed me before I found you? Right on the head. You picked right there, lad. I didn’t think at first you had, because a priest at Kelos…well, it just unsettles the spirits, but now I see that you were right. Allegria has substance, and you don’t see that in many of the gormless fecks you seem to surround yourself with. She’ll come after you, she and that demon lord you insist on befriending.
It took Hallow a few minutes to work through his confusion to the point that he realized the voice belonged to Thorn. And with that, memory returned in hazy little scenes, most notably a picture of himself kneeling as he received the rites of the blood priests, and later, trying to understand the ways of their magic.
“Chains,” he mumbled. “The magic is performed in circles that link together to create chains.”
You don’t have any chains, although your hands are bound behind you. Would you like me to undo the binding? It’s only rope, and my beak is quite sharp.
“Yes, please,” he mumbled and struggled to open his eyes. The ground beneath him, which had been lurching and bumping, was not ground at all. He was in some sort of a covered cart, one that jounced across ruts in the road that made his head bang into the side. He rolled forward onto his belly, feeling Thorn perch on his arms as the bird worked to peck away the bonds. “Where are we?”
Heading for Skystead. The Harborym captured you. I didn’t think I’d see the day when an apprentice of mine was taken by such puling monsters, but Eris is a strange land.
“I’m not your apprentice. Ah, thank you.” Hallow tried to sit up and bring his hands around, but his arms seemed as lifeless and dead as lead weights. He pulled himself into a half-sitting, half reclining position, letting his hands rest on his legs until the blood returned to them.
No, but you were beholden to my apprentice, and that makes you bound to me. How did they capture you? I didn’t see it; I was too busy checking on Allegria and making sure she wasn’t in trouble, and then of course I had to blind as many Harborym as possible, although that’s not as easy as you’d think since they seemed to anticipate my attacks, but still, as a former Master of Kelos, I feel it’s important that I do what I can in this blighted land. I don’t care for the place, myself. I don’t like not being able to feel arcany. It’s not right, lad. It’s just not right.
“No, it isn’t, but we have to deal with what we are given, and right now, I have to figure out why the Harborym took me. How many others did they take?”
None that I saw, not that I saw you taken, as I just said. The first I knew, four Harborym were riding away with you slung over one of their saddles, and the demon lord was yelling that they had you. I thought of telling your priest, but she doesn’t always understand me, so I felt it was wiser to find you. They rode for about a league, then threw you into this cart.
Hallow could see nothing through the canvas hung over the cart. He winced when a sharp, stabbing sensation warned that feeling was coming back to his hands. He wanted badly to peer out to see where he was, and how heavily he was guarded. Instead, he asked, “There are four Harborym here?”
Only two now. The others rode back toward the temple.
Which meant Deo and Allegria would have to deal with them before they came after him. “I have to get free. I am too unlearned to do more than cast the most basic links. I don’t even know if I could make a chain without the presence of the other priests to aid me. Here’s what we’ll do—”
He stopped when the cart gave a painful lurch, almost immediately smoothing out into a gently rattling movement. Hallow listened for a second, worry gripping him. “Thorn, look outside. Are we on a paved road?”
Thorn flew out the back of the cart.
Cobblestones. This must be Skystead. How interesting. I approve of the towers—there’s nothing like a few well-built towers to give a town a dignified appearance. Oh, and there’s a fountain in the middle of a big square. How odd. The water in it is red. It appears there is some scaffolding being built in the square, too. I wonder what that’s for? You should really see these towers, Hallow. Now that you are Master, you can rebuild Kelos, and I think you should add one of this sort of tower. The old ones were well and fine a millennium ago, but clearly whoever built Skystead is very talented where towers are concerned.
Hallow flexed his fingers, the pain in them excruciating while the nerves recovered from the restraint. He tried calming his mind and recalling the brief instructions that he’d been given after his initiation. “Feel the blood that flows through the veins of all living things,” he murmured, pushing down the pricking sensation in his fingers in order to spread them wide. “Use that energy to shape it into a link.”
He summoned up a symbol that floated red in the air before him. “Now, shape another. And another.”
Sounds swirled around them, threatening to distract him, but he hadn’t lived in Kelos for almost a year without learning to ignore the constant chatter of the spirits who also resided there. He shut out everything but his intentions and the feel of the blood flowing through the people surrounding him. It was as if the blood was itself a living thing, an entity that could be molded into whatever shape Hallow wanted. He made link after link until they allowed themselves to be joined together, the individual symbols that hung in the air shifting into a new, more powerful form. “Now to escape and find Allegria and Deo.”
A few minutes later, when the canvas covering the cart was yanked off, Hallow, who had been holding the chain in readiness, flung it on the Harborym standing there, quickly throwing himself off the cart in order to escape.
While the Harborym he’d bound with his weak chain struggled and shouted abuse, six others surrounded the cart.
One of them held Thorn, the bird’s wooden wings snapped off, and while Hallow watched in horror, the Harborym threw Thorn and his wings to the ground. The one he’d bound with the chain shook off the magic, now so weakened it could hold him no longer, and with a grimace that Hallow took to be a smile, the monster ground Thorn’s wooden shape into splinters.
“No!” Hallow leaped forward, gathering up the broken remains of Thorn before the Harborym jerked him upright.
“Did you think your familiar could help you?” The Harborym sneered, and shoved Hallow forward, sending him stumbling toward a large fountain, beyond which he could see a structure made of new wood. It wasn’t a gallows, though. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was. but the sight of it filled him with dread. “There is nothing to save you now, priest.”
Hallow recognized the deep, grating voice that bellowed across the square. He swore under his breath, frantically trying to summon arcane magic, just a little, he pleaded to Bellias. Just enough to free himself from the Harborym gripping his shoulder.
“Master, you said to bring you any of the other born. This one wears the garb of a red hand, but he is not one. There is an aura about him,” one of the Harborym answered, gesturing toward Hallow. Racin, who had ignored him, now turned to look, and Hallow saw the moment when he was recognized.
His spirits fell.
“You!” Racin roared, stomping forward, his long black hair swinging. “You tried to stop me on Genora along with the others! Kill him!”
Hallow squawked a protest, but just as the Harborym holding him grabbed his neck in massive hands, Racin shouted again.
“Stop! I have changed my mind.” He stared intently at Hallow, circling him as if he was an object of curiosity. “Grenji spoke true. You do bear the sign of the red hand, and yet, you are not one of them.” He sniffed the air, his lips curling. “You have the stink of Bellias about you. You are an arcanist, yet you embrace blood magic. Interesting. You might be useful to me. Perhaps it is Starborn blood that made my enemy stronger. Yes, it might be. Put him with the others until I can attend to him.”
Hallow clutched the remains of Thorn as he was dragged off by two Harborym, followed by a couple of Shadowborn guards. As he expected, he was taken to the depths of the massive keep that sat atop Skystead and flung into a cell without a word from the Harborym.
The cell was dark, with no light except that which came through a barred window on the wooden door.
“Oh, Thorn,” he said, picking himself up from a floor that seemed to consist of dirt and moldy straw, “what have we gotten into now?”
“A nightmare would be my definition,” a light female voice said from the dark.
Hallow spun around, still holding the splintered bits of Thorn. “Who’s there?”
“We are, although I must say, I’m disappointed to see you join us. You were supposed to save us.” A pale shape glided toward him until the faint light from the door fell onto a familiar face. Idril gave him a look that said she expected better from him. “You promised that when you, Deo, and that priest got together, you would be unstoppable. If you are here, you cannot help Deo.”
“Deo has no business doing anything but what he’s told,” another voice from the darkness said. This one was also female, but held a no nonsense tone that Hallow guessed belonged to the queen of the Starborn. When she strode into the pool of light, he saw he was correct. “As we discussed numerous times, I blame his father.”
She slapped her hands on her legs and continued forward into the darkness. Hallow had a feeling she was pacing the length of the cell, much like a caged swamp cat he’d once seen in the south of Aryia.
“You blame Lord Israel for Deo’s stubbornness, or the fact that you and Lady Idril have been imprisoned?” Hallow asked, drawing three links of magic in quick succession.
“And me! Don’t forget about me,” a male voice called out from the shadows.
“You, too, Quinn? I’m lucky there is room in the cell for me with all of you here. Shall we have a bit of light?” He added one last link of magic, strung them together, and twisted the chain into a symbol that absorbed the darkness, and gave forth a steady pale light. “That’s better. Now I can see just what we’re up against.”
The cell wasn’t very wide, but it was long. At the far end, a couple of disreputable pallets had been drawn together, one of which held a reclining and bare-chested Quinn. The queen was indeed pacing the length of the cell, her hands behind her back, and her expression one of concentration. Idril, making a soft little coo of pleasure, moved over to the light, carefully seating herself on what appeared to be Quinn’s shirt and jerkin.
“You can start by telling us who you are, although I take it the lady knows you?” the queen said as she strode past him before turning and retracing her steps.
He made his best bow. “I am Hallow of Penhallow, now of Kelos.”
“Kelos?” The queen stopped in mid-pace and spun around to glare at him. “Did Exodius send you?”
Hallow glanced at Idril. She was busy smoothing out the folds of her gown. “Er…not so much. Not in the manner you mean.” Quickly, Hallow explained how he had been taken by Exodius to be Master of Kelos before the latter moved on to the spirit realm, finishing by holding out his hand to show the remains of Thorn. “And now Exodius’s former master has been destroyed, which would be bad enough, but once I find him a new form to adopt, I will hear no end to his tale of woe.”
The queen clicked her tongue in annoyance and resumed pacing. “Exodius always was too stubborn for his own good. Never would listen to advice. And now look where it’s gotten us—Israel is here ruining all my plans, and now you, who should by rights be back in Kelos giving direction to that chaotic group of madmen who make up your order, are here getting in my way.”
He bowed again, struggling a little to keep his expression sober. “You’re welcome, your majesty.”
“For what?” she snapped, glaring at him again as she passed by. “You’ve doubtless stirred up Racin with suspicions and outrageous ideas of invasion?”
“We came to rescue you. At great personal risk,” he said, still amused despite the gravity of the situation. He was about to wish that Allegria were here to appreciate the irony of the queen being peeved with them for attempting to rescue her, but realized the foolishness of such an idea before it finished forming in his mind.
“Not to mention my ship,” Quinn said from where he lay.
“And most of my clothing,” Idril added.
“No one asked you to rescue me,” Dasa said with enough force that Hallow felt himself duly chastised. “I was perfectly able to do that when I was ready, but Israel had to come riding up like he’s a dashing hero and I’m a feeble maiden in need of a savior, not to mention Deo almost throwing away everything I’ve worked so hard for by showing up with the very same idea.”
Hallow thought of pointing out to her that her loved ones’ desire to rescue her was hardly a reason for mocking their actions, but reminded himself that she was, after all a queen, and that wisdom was often on the side of the man who kept his thoughts behind his tongue. Then he decided that if he had a choice between wisdom or sanity, he’d choose the latter any time. “According to what Deo told me, your entire plan was to wait for some unknown time when Racin was weak enough for you to destroy him. With all due respect, that doesn’t seem like much of a plan to me. It relies too heavily on chance.”
Dasa snorted and stormed over to Hallow, her silver eyes blazing. “You’ve seen Deo on Eris?”
“Yes.” Hallow was silent for a moment, judging whether or not to tell the queen everything, and in the end deciding it was inevitable she should find out. He gave her a quick summary of his time on Eris, ending with, “The last I saw Deo, he had just killed more than a dozen Harborym.”
The queen swore under her breath before demanding to know, “At which temple was this?”
“I don’t know the name of it, but it was located at a crossroads. Deo said that one of the roads led to Skystead, while the other followed a dried river bed to the coast.”
“The temple at Mudwallow,” the queen said slowly, obviously considering this information. “What was Deo doing there? He agreed to stay at his prison on Blood Rock until I told him the time was ripe for attack! Bellias blast the boy! He’s going to ruin everything.”
Hallow felt his temper rise at the queen’s comments. Although he was normally slow to anger, the blood magic that now flowed through him acted as an irritant, one that lacked the smooth, soothing power that came from wielding arcany. “And is being confined in the belly of this keep part of your plan? B
ecause I don’t see how Deo and Lord Israel have ruined anything. They—we all—are here to get you and Deo off Eris. Does it matter how we do so?”
“Of course it matters!” Dasa slapped her hands on her legs again, and marched past him before spinning on her heel and returning. “If I didn’t want to be on Eris, I wouldn’t have allowed Racin to bring me here in the first place.”
“Why would you do that?” Idril asked, looking only mildly interested.
“I was wondering the very same thing,” Quinn said, sitting up and scratching his bare chest. “It seems to me that the lady doesn’t want to be rescued after all. So our whole journey here was for nothing.”
“My plan—one that Israel agreed to—was always to find a way to destroy Racin. We both knew that driving the Harborym from Genora and Aryia was only a temporary fix. Once Racin had regrouped, he would return. As many times as was needed until he conquered the whole of Alba. Do you understand now, arcanist? Your so-called rescue plan has put at grave risk the plans I have been working on for years.”
Hallow was silent for a few seconds while he considered this. “I agree that Racin needs to be destroyed, but now that we are all here—Deo, and Lord Israel, and Allegria and I—together, we can accomplish that. He is strong, yes, but not invulnerable, a fact that we saw in Abet when he retreated rather than face the three of us. No matter how much chaos magic he wields, he’s still a man, and can be destroyed just as the Harborym can be destroyed.”
The queen whirled, her long black hair flying out like an ebony curtain. “What makes you think he’s a man?”
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