The Tenets in the Tattoos (The King's Swordsman Book 1)

by Becky James

  Ellesmere smiled. “Of course.”

  “Does it involve a pizza motif?” Evyn asked. “Because that would be ridiculous.”

  “No. No it doesn’t.” Not anymore.

  We resolved that Tuniel would start with helping Aubin question the details of his experience while Evyn and I pinged back and travelled to her house to check on everyone’s well-being. My family were delighted to see us, and apart from the washing mounting up, Evyn said the house was coping. She showed everyone how to work the clothes box, and they stood open-mouthed at the spectacle.

  When we arrived back, I settled into guarding my royal charge, and Evyn found the library to tuck herself into. We came together to practise pinging last thing at night, in the privacy of the brace of rooms afforded us.

  But Aubin did not get any better.

  Tuniel regrouped with us outside her room the next morning. “It’s fraught,” she began, holding herself stiff and still, dark hollows marring her cheeks. “I can walk him through missing pieces. The inconsistencies. How his life with his family was too perfect. The tattoos, the stances, where his family is supposed to be.

  “But he has an answer for everything and, meanwhile, he’s trying to convince me that I have it all wrong, that you are deceiving and manipulating me with necromantic energy.” She rubbed her face. “Never mind that necromantic energy is exceedingly rare; I should know, I studied it at length in the Academy. But that’s beside the point.”

  She looked between us, down at Evyn and then up at me. “He has fully convinced himself that you are both playing him for a fool, and that you used him to get to me. He believes he’s nothing to anyone except a lever to use against me, and he is resolute in trying to get free, saying that he needs to rescue me and his family.” Tuniel turned her cold gaze toward me. “I’ll give you an example he set out for me. He told me you tricked him into setting out for Spiritshere, where you set a trap for me. He said you put together a code simple enough a child could break it, in the hopes of fooling him into thinking he helped, and he is most annoyed he did so.”

  I gaped. “Those were my father’s last words to me! Simple code… How dare he.”

  Tuniel lifted her hands in placation. “He is convinced you laid it as bait, and has harangued himself for being stupid enough to fall for it. Where something relies on his perceived shortcomings, whether or not they are real, he will latch onto it as truth.”

  “Because he believes he is lacking.” Evyn screwed her fists closed. “Confirmation bias is working against us. He believes he’s being tricked and that we’re using him, because that’s all anyone has ever done to him and that’s what he was afraid of. Now he’s finding evidence to support that and rejecting all evidence to the contrary.” She looked like she wanted to punch the wall.

  Arching an eyebrow at me, Tuniel asked me, “Did you have a particular vendetta against him, when you were both in service to the castle?”

  I frowned. “Me? No.”

  Tuniel nodded. “Then the memories he has of you making a fool of him or laughing behind his back throughout his time as King’s Apothecarist are false as well.”

  “Uh…” I flushed uncomfortably. Both women’s faces went flinty toward me. “Maybe not completely untrue. Maybe… there is a kernel of truth there.” Evyn tutted at me. “I… have no excuse.” I stared at the floor between Tuniel’s feet.

  Evyn shook her head in disgust. “Waker has found enough cracks in his insecurities without being able to point to a real, untarnished memory as proof.” She folded her arms tight, then sighed. “But we can’t change the past.

  “I think it’s time we looked at what Waker’s doing to slow us down. She’s bound to be in his head at night undoing things, whispering in his ear how he’s a tool to be fooled.”

  She glared at me again, and I understood that to be a thrust at me.

  I let out a low breath. “Two reasons why I don’t think we can do that. We can’t approach him in a dream. He can still hurt us, and we have no idea what being killed in a dream would result in. I can’t let him hurt you in there, so he’ll have dreams about me beating him up, which is probably the opposite of what we want.”

  Evyn threw up her hands. “For all we know Waker is sending him dreams of us laughing like madmen while dangling his kids off a cliff. We have to combat that, or he’ll never come round.”

  Smoothing her skirts, Tuniel said, “This may also play into Waker’s hands. She may be waiting for you to enter his dreamland to strike.”

  Evyn’s face darkened. “Then I’m going to bazooka her in the face. I can handle the dreamlands. I’ll go alone if I have to,” she said, glancing at me and setting her face mulishly.

  I sighed. “No. I’ll come. I’ll want my own bazooka, though.”

  That night, Ellesmere facilitated a link to Aubin’s mind. Walking through the night-time streets of Tergue Hall and down into the Academy, we approached Aubin’s shop. It had been ransacked, pieces flung out into the street.

  “Did he do that?” I asked, picking up sheafs and ripped sacks.

  “Probably not. He didn’t like me throwing his stock last time.” Evyn set jars upright on a low shelf. “It was probably Waker, looking for clues of what to use against Aubin.”

  A clang rang out further down the street, and I put my head out to see what it was. “Nothing there—” Instinct screamed at me. Spinning back I blocked Aubin’s fist, dodging to the side.

  He jumped backwards. Evyn lay on the floor inside a golden, translucent bubble. He kicked it to no effect, then turned to me, shaking with anger. “Where are they? Give them back to me!” He tapped his hips, searching his rumpled clothes for his blades, sleeves undone and flapping.

  Holding up my hands, I paced slowly toward the golden dome Evyn crouched inside. “It’s all a lie, Aubin. Wait, listen.” Putting myself between him and Evyn, I grabbed his hand. He twisted backwards and when I didn’t let go, he redoubled his efforts. “I don’t want to hurt you! Stop and listen.” He kicked me hard. I grabbed his leg and held on gamely. “Aubin!”

  Evyn stood up, causing the bubble to pop, a shaky smile on her pale face. “Aubin. Let’s go find them,” she offered, as joyful as if she invited him to the library.

  He stopped struggling and stared at her, chest heaving.

  My mouth gaped open. “But Evyn, they aren’t real—”

  Evyn smiled at Aubin, but her eyes flickered to me. “Waker has them somewhere in the dreamlands. Let’s go find them.”

  Aubin snarled, tugging his wrist. “This is a trick, isn’t it? I should just kill you.”

  “Okay.” Evyn materialised a pair of deadly Skienien Battlemistress blades. I swore but Aubin froze. “We’re in a dream. See? I can do this in a dream. We dreamwalked together to get Ellesmere, Gadamere and Gough free. Remember? We found you here.” Her voice hitched. She coughed and carried on. “We are in a dream.”

  Aubin panted. I lowered his arm slowly. He tried to rip it from me, but I held tight. “I don’t want you to hurt my soul,” I told him, voice low. “I’m just going to hold you here.”

  “Let him go, Thorrn.”

  I glanced at Evyn, jaw tightening. “He will hurt you.”

  “Maybe. I can protect myself in a dream,” she pointed out.

  That was true. The bubble thing was interesting.

  I let Aubin’s arm go, and he snatched at the blades, slashing at Evyn’s face. I cried out, but the bubble Evyn created bounced them back.

  She lowered her hand. “See? A dream,” she soothed. “But we are really here. We had an idea, because you have excellent attention to detail, and you thought there were a lot of things wrong with what Waker did to you.” She flushed, arms mid-air through her explanation. Aubin was staring at her. “Oh, it’s easier to explain when you show him your tattoo, Thorrn.”

  “Yes, the new campaign tattoo.” I rolled up my sleeve. “See, that’s a car beast, and these are seven crowbars in a ring—”

  Evyn tutted. “Thorrn, why
is the car on fire? It was never on fire.”

  I raised my chin. “It looks great that way. All good battle tattoos need fire on them. Anyway, seven crowbars in the outside ring, and these symbols represent us.” I pointed to each one. “We have the rock for Tuniel, the sword is me, Evyn wanted a book, and this is you.”

  Aubin was silent for a handful of heartbeats, blinking slowly. Eventually he said, “That’s a rhomda plant.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. “I thought it looked really dangerous and sharp. Evyn found me a book in the library, I flicked through it and this one stood out to me because of all the spikes and things—”

  Aubin’s amber eyes met mine. “The extract treats male personal problems.”

  “It does what? Oh. Oh no.” I scrubbed at it. Evyn snorted. “No, stop laughing. It’s not funny! I don’t know what plants do what.” I swore.

  The blades Aubin had held clattered to the ground. I dropped into a guard stance automatically.

  Aubin stared at me. “You’re really them, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, we are,” Evyn said softly.

  His gaze flickered across the shop ceiling, the walls, never straying far from me. I kept my hands open and to my sides. He licked his lips. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “We’re in the dreamlands right now,” Evyn explained, tucking her hair behind her ear. “In the real world, we are in Tergue Hall. This is not real, but we’re really here. See, Waker changed your memories. We’re really not… well, what you think.”

  Aubin backed up, putting a table between us, looking into our faces. “How do I know what’s real?”

  Evyn bit her lip. “You don’t. But from now on, you know which ones are the real us; ask any you see to show you their tattoos. The ones with impotence-curing plants on will be us.”

  I made a strangled noise in the back of my throat. “No. No, Evyn, I’m changing that. Aubin, what’s a good plant? What plant would you want to represent you?” I looked side to side for some other impressive-looking plant, if spikes were to be avoided.

  He ignored me, his amber eyes locked on to Evyn. “I need to find them. I need to be sure.”

  “Of course. Let’s go.” She beckoned him, holding out her hand.

  Aubin picked up the blades to ward her off. “Stay back.”

  She nodded, but could not hide her disappointment. I took her hand to rally her, and she smiled up at me.

  As we left the shop, she whispered, “So far so good.”

  Aubin followed behind us, blades still raised. I kept my hand on my sword, watching him. “Where are we going to find where Waker has hidden fake people? They don’t have their own dreamlands,” I whispered back to her.

  Evyn rubbed her hands. “They’ll be in Waker’s dreamland, of course. She dreamt them up.”

  I choked. “Invade her mind? Are you insane? This is her showing you what she’s capable of. If you invade her mind, she will stop at nothing next time.”

  “Then we don’t give her a next time. I’m taking her down, Thorrn.” Evyn’s voice was steel, quiet and calm. Her little hands made determined fists, and her steps took on a striding quality through the streets of the Academy.

  I matched her easily. “Get behind me and Tuniel,” I muttered.

  We let Aubin lead, and after a handful of heartbeats’ hesitation he made his way down the deserted streets, looking left and right, searching for something.

  He suddenly spun on his heel and I dropped into a guard stance in response, heartbeat accelerating. He studied me, and I called calm into myself. “What is your version of events?” he asked me. Evyn opened her mouth but he held up a hand, blade held loosely against his palm. “Shardsson first.”

  I searched my mind for the right words to say to fix this. What could I say? He waited, quick eyes searching for guile. What should I say?

  Evyn nudged me. “Be yourself,” she said, loudly enough for Aubin to hear.

  Heartened, I grinned. “Well, first off, Evyn was really angry that I didn’t create a waterfall or turn into a giant or do any number of things other than let you sign that contract. When we woke up, she was in high dudgeon, aimed squarely at me. We roused Gadamere and got him to heal my shoulders. They’re all better, thanks for asking. I know you’ve got other things on your mind. We piled Tuniel and the royals and your dribbling body into Evyn’s Gran’s barge—”

  Evyn’s jaw dropped. “He didn’t dribble! Thorrn, that’s awfully mean.”

  I chuckled. Glancing at Aubin, his face had a sardonic smirk, and I knew he was ready with a comeback. I felt back on familiar ground in a back-and-forth between us.

  Aubin nodded at Evyn. “And then?” he asked her.

  She perked up. “We had to rescue Thorrn’s family and Aleric, then we went to the MasterMage’s Palais for you. We took five days to get you, and we came as quickly as we could.” Evyn twisted her fingers so hard it hurt, even in a dream, a beat of pain in the back of my head.

  He looked down at her. Pain crossed his face, and he shook his head. “Stop talking. Show me where my family is.”

  I frowned. Had we not passed the test?

  Evyn pressed her lips together, and I know she tried hard not to cry. “He doesn’t know me well enough, and Waker has twisted the memories of me into Morven.”

  Putting my arm around her shoulders, I turned over other ways to reach him, when Aubin woke up first, disappearing suddenly. Evyn cried out, running to where he had been. “It’s probably alright,” I tried to say, before I felt catapulted out myself.

  Blinking, I raised myself onto my elbows. The wakestone was shaking, dawn lining the edges of the windows. I tapped it to stop it, then went to find Evyn in her room.

  Rapping the door and opening it, I found her lying abed. She gave me a little wave but continued her study of the ceiling.

  I rolled next to her. “I don’t get it. Why is this so hard for him to grasp?” I asked.

  She stared up in silence for a handful of heartbeats. “Think of how you feel about Gavain now and how you felt about him before. What changed? One incident of harm against you. To Aubin, we’re monsters. We’ve hurt the people he thinks he loves, and he’s afraid we’re using him.” She curled onto her side.

  I ran a hand through my hair, my stomach twisting. “It was all too over the top. I don’t kill innocent people, Evyn! I wouldn’t do that and Special Forces hang soldiers who do that.” I halted. “Or they did, anyway. Now who knows what Torgund is making them do.” My heart clenched.

  Evyn pulled the coverlet closer to her chin. “If you recall, Aubin had difficulty with those elements of the story Waker laid out for him. Waker didn’t know us, so she had to rely on what she thought a swordsman would do unchecked, for example.”

  “It’s unprofessional,” I muttered, throwing myself back down beside her. “Unchecked, I’m going out of my mind with no training regimen. I’m making my own up and I’m constantly worried whether I’m getting the best use out of my time. I’m not thinking of new ways to hurt people. Who does that?”

  Evyn twisted her long hair into a spiral. “Enough people apparently. We had the Spanish Inquisition, after all.” She sighed, pushing the covers back and putting her chin in her hand. “The main thing he’s struggling with are actually the nice bits. The part where he has a family. Imagine you lived through years of having a family, and now they’re gone. What would you rather: the fact that they are in trouble somewhere, or the fact that they never existed?”

  That would be devastating. I need not look far to imagine the impact of that. “Mm. I see.” I glanced at my soul. She looked over at me. “Do you want to see if he’ll stand to see us now?”

  “Yes,” she said, jumping out of bed.

  We hurried to Tuniel’s room, but the mage was already at the open door. “He’s asking to see you,” she said breathlessly.

  I peered into the room. Aubin sat on the edge of the rumpled bed, his chained hands in his lap, head bow
ed. I knocked on the door, and he flinched. “Coming in,” I said, watching him as I filed in with Evyn and Tuniel.

  He drew his legs up when we entered, and it was clear his heartrate had gone up, jumping in his throat and temples, but he remained outwardly calm.

  He speared me with a glare. “Show me the tattoos.” His jaw ticked.

  I scratched my head. “Ah, they aren’t real tattoos. Just dream tattoos.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Then I cannot trust a word you say.”

  “I haven’t had the design approved for this campaign, and there isn’t officially even a campaign yet! This is technically committing treason and there isn’t a tattoo for that, it’s death.”

  Evyn patted my left forearm. “Maybe you could have it on this side?”

  I pulled it away from her, cradling it to my chest as if she wielded the ink, bone, and wood herself. “What, a random tattoo? No!”

  “Thorrn,” she wheedled. “For Aubin?”

  I blew out my cheeks. “I mean, yes, but, I have to change the plant. Aubin, what plant do you want to have representing you?”

  His face fixed. “The one I saw had the rhomda plant on it.”

  “Yes, but that’s a… specific problem plant, and, and, I don’t have that problem, and I’m not having that on my body.”

  Aubin shrugged. “It’s a normal issue. Many men live with it,” he explained.

  “I don’t know whether I’m delighted about what you three are talking about or horrified,” Tuniel said.

  I could barely speak, and I certainly couldn’t look in Tuniel’s direction. She might be smug, and then I might die. “I don’t want a – that – plant on my forearm!” My voice squeaked. “Someone might get the wrong idea!” Aubin folded his arms. I snarled. “Fine.” My eyes narrowed. “Evyn. You need one as well.”