“Such as?” Aleksei didn’t know how much the man knew, but some things were still very definitely being kept from him.
“Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. You must react to everything through instinct, and if you knew what to expect, you might hesitate. Please believe me when I say that neither of us can afford that.”
Aleksei nodded. He thought he was beginning to make some sense of it all. Yet in the last few days he had come to realize just how little of the world he truly understood.
“I have also come to you tonight,” the man continued, “because I will not be able to visit you again until you reach me. Circumstances are…changing here. I am being watched, and even using my talents to reach out to you is being treated with intense suspicion.”
Aleksei sighed. There was still so much that he didn’t understand, and yet he realized he felt a swell of sympathy for the man. It was beginning to sound like he was just as much a pawn in all this as Aleksei himself.
“Fate.” Aleksei muttered.
The man chuckled, “Ah yes, Fate. The truth, Aleksei, is that Fate has only as much power as we allow it. No invisible hand will swoop down to carry you here and no force will magically move to stand in your way. The decision is yours. It will always be yours. Fate is merely a tool that others use to justify their wants and needs.
“I believe that you will be of great use here, and so I used Fate to that end. But you’re in Keiv-Alon because you climbed on your horse and rode there; not because Fate pushed you.”
Aleksei opened his mouth to protest but suddenly realized the man was right. No one had actually forced him to do anything. They had suggested and goaded certainly, but in the end it had been his decision, his own decisive action that led him to where he was. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for his decisions.
“All I can ask, Aleksei, is that for the moment you believe in my intentions. I have faith in what I’m telling you, and I believe you’ll find something here that you’ve never dreamed of. I just ask that you see what I have to offer you.”
Aleksei nodded after a long moment of consideration. “I can accept that.”
The man smiled and Aleksei realized that it was the first time he’d seen him do that. It was a strikingly pleasant look.
“I know I’m asking so much from you, Aleksei. Should you choose to find me, I will ask even more. But I would not if I didn’t believe that you’re the only one who can help me.”
Aleksei managed a nod. His mind was reeling with the things the man had said, and he found that he had no words of his own.
The man sighed, “And now I must go. As must you. Wake up, Aleksei. Dawn is here.”
Aleksei gasped and opened his eyes.
He breathed a sigh of relief. The room was just as he’d left it. He wondered what would have happened to him if they’d broken in while he was in the dream. Would he have waked?
Hurrying to his feet, Aleksei grabbed his pack from the bed and started for the door.
He froze.
What if Bert was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs? Aleksei didn’t relish the idea of having to deal with the man.
His eyes darted to the small window cut into the eastern wall. He pulled back the moth-eaten cheesecloth stretched across as a makeshift screen and peered down at the ground. It wasn’t that far a drop, and Aleksei was relieved to see Dash still tied to the post where he’d left him.
It seemed fortune was on his side for the moment.
Aleksei put his sword back in the pack and gently dropped it from the window. A moment later he followed, being careful to brace his landing. It hurt considerably less than he’d anticipated.
Dash whinnied softly and rolled his great brown eyes when Aleksei approached. He couldn’t help but grin at the horse’s excitement to see him. He untied the knots and led his horse from the inn.
It wasn’t until he was several blocks away that he allowed himself to breathe easier.
Aleksei followed the main street past the hawkers and apple carts that lined the central walkway. He craned his neck every now and then, attempting to see past the line of wagons and horses. He wasn’t exactly sure what part of the city he’d ended up in, but if he could gain his bearings he might be able to find the north gate.
As he moved through the street, Aleksei became inexplicably aware that he was being followed. He had no indication of who was behind him or what their intentions were, only that they were there.
His mind raced as he moved through the crowds. In his current state of paranoia, it was difficult for Aleksei to believe that this new follower meant him anything but harm.
Best to deal with it out of sight.
That last thought struck him as strange. Deal with it? How was he going to deal with it? He groaned inwardly as he felt the strange shift from deep within.
An image of Jack and Gus formed in his mind, one man lying on the ground, clutching his broken, bleeding nose, the other gasping for breath as Aleksei’s boot pressed harder against his throat.
No! Aleksei snarled in his mind. I will not do that again.
But even as he thought the words, he found himself leading Dash towards an empty alley. The shapes and patterns from the night before readily snapped back into his mind, showing him the quickest motions needed to draw his sword from the pack, how to position his feet before his pursuer was on him.
Aleksei entered the alley and walked until he was a good twenty paces from the main street. Hopefully no one would pay any attention to what happened here.
A cloaked form turned into the alley and Aleksei slipped his hand inside the pack, gripping the leather handle of his sword tightly.
His pursuer turned the corner and Aleksei caught a glint of steel under the black cloak. A dagger. He frowned at that. He’d only seen a flash of the sun on metal. He wasn’t even sure it was a blade.
Instinctively, he knew it was, even as he slid out of the saddle.
His hand eased away from the sword. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that he had to trust his instincts. They had saved him before, and he could only pray they would save him now.
“Don’t want no trouble with you, boy. Just hand over your coin and be on your way.”
Aleksei could think of nothing to say, so he remained silent.
Watching. Waiting.
The man stepped closer and his left hand slipped from the confines of the cloak, revealing a long, curved dagger. “You don’t want to make me use this, do you?”
“You can walk away. You still have that option.”
Aleksei said coolly.
He had become weary of people trying to take what was rightfully and honestly his. Did everyone in this gods-forsaken world want something for nothing? Hadn’t any of these people ever heard of hard work?
The man continued to advance.
Obviously not.
Aleksei waited until the man was a bare pace away before he moved.
His hand darted out and caught the man’s wrist, twisting it back hard. The man cried out as the bone popped out of socket. The dagger fell from his fingers.
“Return to the street, sir. Please.” Aleksei knew that he was not pleading with the man, merely offering advice.
The thief snarled and launched himself at Aleksei. Aleksei waited this time until his attacker was mere inches from him before he clutched the man’s left arm, twisting it around and using the man’s momentum to his advantage. The man’s snarl became a gasp as he hurled past Aleksei and landed hard on the rough cobbles of the alley.
“You!” came a shout from behind Aleksei. He turned to see three Legionnaires rushing towards him. “Stop right there!”
His confidence evaporated and Aleksei vaulted onto Dash, fear suppressing his natural self-disgust as he dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. Dash leapt forward, over the thief and out into the street. Aleksei’s heart thumped painfully in his chest as he steered Dash forward. He didn’t know where he was
headed, but he had to get away from the Legionnaires.
As he rode, cutting through side streets and narrow alleyways, Aleksei wondered if Gus and Jack might have reported him to their local post. They were not likely to take kindly to his treatment of them, and they could provide a fair enough description. Add that to what the Legionnaires had just seen and….
He passed through a small residential community, dodging children and wash lines. Although he was fairly sure that the Legionnaires were somewhere far behind him, he didn’t doubt that they would sound the alarm.
Yet when Aleksei finally found his way back to the main road, he found himself strangely calm once again. As he rode towards what he finally realized was the north gate, Aleksei understood the return of his collected confidence.
Even if the Legionnaires had sounded an alarm, they would be looking for a man in a hurry. A man running away from something. And as long as one of those three original men didn’t see him, there would be no way to tell him from anyone else making their way through the city. He doubted that in a city of this size too much effort would be wasted on any crime short of major theft or murder, and he was guilty of neither.
At least, not yet. He thought bleakly.
In a few minutes, he made his way through the street and back out onto the road. The walled prominence of Keiv-Alon vanished behind him.
CHAPTER 6
Blood that Binds
“GODS,” JONAS MUTTERED, rubbing his temples, “what am I doing?”
The prince sank back in his chair, breathing heavily. He was exhausted, yet the feelings of shame and foolishness far outweighed his petty physical needs.
Had he told Aleksei the truth even once or was he just making it all up?
It was easy to be cryptic and mysterious, yet he was feeding the man a load of prognostications that were absolutely baseless. Were it not for the dreams and the voice, there was little reason for Aleksei to give his words any more credence than a beggar on the street.
Jonas felt fortunate that his petty tricks were enough to impress the farm boy. He felt more fortunate still to have been allowed windows where he could observe Aleksei’s actions and thoughts through the Archanium, though they were difficult to glimpse.
Especially with another watching at the same time.
But trying to explain the meaning of it all as though Jonas understood what was happening was taking its toll. He was beginning to feel responsible for the poor man, blindly making his way through the realm with only dreams and voices to guide him.
And not all that well.
Jonas stifled a yawn. It was so inconvenient to be human. He was hardly one of the most adept Archanium users in Ilyar, and such exercises were especially draining for him. The Archanium touched every living thing, but the closer an object was, the easier it was to control or manipulate.
And Aleksei was by no means close.
The connection they shared was heavily taxed by the distance between them, to say nothing of the inconsistencies in Jonas' training.
Jonas had only a general idea of what he was doing. When he needed to do something specific, he researched and experimented until he made it work.
Dreamspeak was one of the simpler tricks he’d tried successfully, but that was a far cry from casting an image of himself in the dream. That most recent experiment had nearly taxed him beyond capacity.
Truthfully, Jonas wasn’t sure if even Sammul could project himself into a dream all the way to the Southern Plain. Keiv-Alon had been hard enough, and even then he had not been solid. The ancient masters could not only project themselves, they could control their environments with precision, heal or destroy minds across vast distances with apparent ease.
It might have been simpler to ride down in person, to speak with Aleksei face to face. But then again, there was another player to deal with. And as Jonas knew next to nothing about the other Magus' ability, it would hardly be wise to risk any sort of confrontation. Besides, Aya had warned often enough against being too heavy-handed.
No, it made far more sense for Aleksei to come to him.
As dangerous as it was to attempt this, Jonas firmly believed that the eventual gain would outweigh the risks.
At any rate, he was being monitored. Someone, and he had mounting suspicions, was watching him, sensing the way he used the Archanium. Though if it was Sammul or the other player, Jonas was still unsure. Sammul could make all the accusations he wanted, but he’d have to convince others first, and Jonas could handle whatever political games the High Magus wanted to play.
But when word of his abilities finally escaped, he knew he’d be met with considerable resentment among the Archanium Magi. That was the one game Sammul would win handily.
Sammul’s flock were innately distrustful of any Magus not trained in the Voralla. Jonas hadn’t been trained by anyone, and that would leave a lot of questions unanswered for his enemies.
He wondered how enraged Sammul would be at the idea of an untrained Magus trying to bond a man tied to an unknown Primary prophecy. Especially a Magus he did not control.
Sammul was already bristling at the uncertainty Jonas presented.
Unfortunately, it was an uncertainty that Jonas shared. There were moments when he reached for the Archanium and fell flat, and yet others still where he managed feats beyond any Magus in the Voralla.
He had been enormously lucky thus far, but Jonas was well aware that such luck was no substitute for a solid theoretical and practical foundation. But whatever his personal failings, to Sammul, Jonas was an enigma. His abilities were likely the subject of much speculation, and Jonas intended to keep it that way, whether such illusions were grounded or not.
A soft knock at the door shook him from his thoughts. Gods, who would be wanting him at this hour?
“Come.” he called wearily.
The door opened and a tall, thin man stepped in. His gaunt face was wrapped in uncertainty; his wiry red hair oily and disheveled. He looked as exhausted as Jonas felt.
“Hade.” Jonas said, rising from his chair.
Hade managed a weak smile, “Evening, Jonas. How…how are you faring?”
Jonas returned the smile, hoping it masked his own weariness. “Well enough. What can I do for you?”
Hade was one of the few Archanium Magi aware of Jonas' abilities, yet he was far from distrustful. If anything, Jonas thought Hade placed too much trust in him.
Jonas had always liked the young Magus, though he could be overanxious and timid in the face of authority. The gods may have given Hade the ability to touch the Archanium, but they had certainly never seen fit to hand him bravery in the same turn.
The Magus sat on the edge of a tufted ottoman across from Jonas. “It’s about Ilyana.”
That explained the exhaustion and the worried lines that creased the man’s face. Hade was in love with Ilyana; that was no secret. But this level of concern was uncharacteristic of the man.
Brave or no, Jonas knew him to be a good deal more confident than this.
“What do you mean?” Jonas asked, leaning forward.
“They…they won’t let me see her.” Hade said, looking down at the floor. “I haven’t seen her since they caught her…well you know. No one is allowed past the guards.”
Jonas pushed his exhaustion to the back of his mind and stood, “Then why don’t we go pay her a visit? I hadn’t realized she was being shut away from society for her ‘crime’. She’s probably starved for company.”
Hade frowned, “But they’re not letting anyone in! I just said—”
Jonas fixed Hade in his green-eyed gaze, “Somehow I think they’ll make an exception for us.”
Hade licked his lips nervously and nodded, following Jonas from the room. Jonas sighed. It had taken him a while, but he now realized what it was that was worrying Hade.
Ilyana had technically broken a law, but she had done nothing that every other Magus in Ilyar was not also capable of.
A ring of guards stood around the door to Ilyana’s chambers, barring anyone from entering or exiting. Armed guards for a girl who’d dared summon fire. The very idea fueled the fears growing in Jonas' heart.
When the guards saw them approach, they stiffened, holding their pikes straight and shields high.
Jonas strode casually up to the commanding officer, “Excuse me, Sergeant. I’d like to speak with the Magus Ilyana.”
The sergeant looked uncertain, “Our orders are to allow no one entry, Highness.”
Jonas' eyes narrowed, “And who issued those orders, Sergeant?”
“The High Magus Sammul, Highness.”
“Sammul commands the Voralla. Since when does his authority outweigh mine in the Palace, Sergeant?”
The sergeant swallowed, glancing around the hall nervously, “Begging your pardon, Highness.”
Jonas nodded, his eyes hard, “I’ll forgive it this time. Now, no one else is to be allowed in besides us. Not even Sammul. Do I make myself clear?”
The sergeant saluted, “Yes, Highness.”
The guards hurried out of his way as Jonas walked past the man, Hade close behind him.
Ilyana’s ‘cell’ was actually one of the nicer apartments in the lower east wing of Kalinor Palace. It was lavishly decorated in salmon pink and sky blue velvet, the walls painted with elaborate seascapes. Two great gilded windows looked out onto the East Lawn.
And the Voralla.
Jonas thought it cruel.
The infamous Ilyana was sitting on the divan before the window, fine golden hair hanging about her shoulders in myriad thin braids. At the moment, her watery blue eyes were lit with both hope and despair, the emotions warring for dominance of her innocent features.
Jonas smiled as the door closed behind him, “Good evening, Ilyana. I hope we’re not disturbing you.”
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