Rat Woman sent an image of Sarn holding his son. The rat bobbed his head and scampered off a moment later, but Ran’s sweet little face lingered as she picked Ran’s favorite toy up. I can’t wait to give you back to him.
Imagining his smile, she tucked his only toy under her belt, so Bear was snug against the small of her back. He’d be happy to see his fuzzy friend.
When the next summons rolled over her, she found the strength to go on. Maybe Ran’s bear lent it to her. Still grinning, she crawled through the duct, feeling happier than she’d felt in weeks.
J.C. caught Sarn as he crumpled and laid him on the grass. A pissed off angel materialized cradling his son. She set him down, pillowing his little body on his father’s broad chest, and the boy curled up as if he were taking a nap, instead of a temporary, magic-induced coma.
You didn’t need to do that. Your trees could have stopped him from entering your woods if you’re that set against his help. But J.C. was wasting his mental energy projecting his thoughts to the Queen of All Trees. So, he saw to his unconscious charges.
I won't risk him. He’s my hope for the future. I will not sacrifice him, she sent back, startling J.C.
He hadn’t expected a reply, nor did he expect her children to part so the Queen of All Trees could stand at the edge of the undamaged part of her forest for an in-person chat. But she did, so J.C. switched to audible speech.
“I understand you want to protect him, but this isn’t the way. A curse breaker is soul-bonded to the truth. No lie, no matter how cleverly implanted, can take root in his mind. Every fiber of his being will reject it.”
And this amnesia was a lie. Mages had near-eidetic memories because one mistake in their spell work could kill them and anyone within a ten-mile radius or more. It depended on the mage.
“I won’t risk him.”
“So, you’re sending him back to the Adversary’s arms? Your logic escapes me, Lady of the Green Woods.”
The Queen of All Trees ruffled her branches in frustration or annoyance. It was hard to tell since she had no human face or body to read. “You’ll protect him.”
“They have free will. I can only protect those who ask. I won't break the covenant.” J.C. nodded not just to the unconscious youth and his son, but to the mountain beyond them.
“Protect them.”
The Queen of All Trees’ radiance fluctuated as another conversation overlapped theirs. Then the Queen of All Trees roused. She shook her branches and processed away.
“Protect them. They’re more precious than you know.”
Her branch curved back and generated a pulse. A third forget spell winged his way, but J.C. waved a hand, dismissing it. That wasn’t necessary.
Thorns pierced his scalp, and nails bit into his hands and feet every time free will was thwarted. So, a few drops of his most precious blood fell onto the little one, who was already stirring. Ran was such an adorable child, and so sunny. Erasing even one iota of that cuteness was wrong.
His blood-stained Ran’s cheek pink as the drops rolled off his nose onto his unconscious father. An angel reappeared. She stroked his sleeping brow.
Angered at the blatant manipulation, J.C. let a few more drops fall on them. It didn’t balance out the theft because he wasn’t the one who’d stolen their memories, but it was a start and from what he’d seen, Sarn and his son needed all the protection they could get.
“It’s spreading,” the gray-eyed angel said as she pulled Sarn’s sleeve up to show the black marks streaking up his forearm. His head rested on her lap and his son lay on his chest. “Why can’t I hold it at bay? He’s a good person. I don’t understand why I can’t stop it.”
J.C. sighed. “Because it’s rooted in actual sins. Your brother has to throw it off on his own.”
Her gray eyes fixed on Ran, the adorable, happy-go-lucky, born-in-sin bastard. “No, not him,” she tousled the sleeping boy’s hair and his thumb crept toward his mouth. “My nephew is just an innocent babe.”
“That he is but his making was not innocent, and that’s one of the sins this taint is rooted in.” J.C. tapped the black thorn driven through the center of Sarn’s left palm.
“And the others?”
“Theft, it’s a sin.”
“But he stole food and clothes to survive.”
“Yes, and he gave those ill-gotten goods to others to help them, which negates some of his sins. As does him raising his son and taking such excellent care of the boy.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Then how does he throw off the Adversary’s influence?”
“By repenting and asking for forgiveness, you can’t make him though. He must come to the decision on his own.”
“What about his magic? He has white magic. Can’t he use that to drive it out?”
“What is white magic? It is belief, and belief leads to repentance, so yes. But it must be of his own free will.” J.C. waggled a finger at her. “No putting ideas in his head.”
“And my nephew? Can the Adversary get to him through my brother? They’re linked, and it’s a very strong connection.” But she was fading before she finished asking because every minute she remained visible, she drained her brother of the magic he needed to survive what was coming.
Ran sat up and shook his father’s arm. Those inky marks flowed over Sarn’s bicep and wrapped around his shoulder. Ran’s little fingers glowed a soft white on contact, and the marks slowed.
Interesting, only a purifier could do that. Perhaps that’s what the son of a curse-breaking stone mage was. Well, Ran was one to watch.
“Papa, wake up. I’m hungry.”
When Sarn didn’t rouse, Ran looked at J.C., his worry plain.
“He’ll be okay. He should wake in a moment.” J.C. hid his wounds and gave the young curse breaker a push toward consciousness. No need to scare the boy.
“But I’m hungry. Papa needs to get up, so he can fetch—” a puzzled look crossed Ran’s face as he tried to work out what hour of the afternoon it was. No mean feat given they were a week away from the summer solstice, and the sun wouldn’t set until well after his bedtime.
Ran looked around, his puzzlement growing. “Why are we outside? What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
In answer, Ran grasped his hand and squeezed as his little face cleared of its confusion. “Papa made a bargain with you. We’re going with you.” And that delighted the boy.
J.C. smiled, but all humor fled as Sarn opened his eyes. They were split down the middle—half were revolving green flames and half spitting white fire, but neither focused quite right. His magic was already fighting the compulsion to forget, and that battle was no doubt giving him a splitting headache.
Even Ran drew back in alarm at the sight. But his fright melted, and he reversed course, crowding in close, needing reassurance his sole parent was okay.
“How do you feel?”
“Like someone opened up my head and poured boiling water in before closing it up. I feel like steam’s pouring out of my ears. It isn’t right?”
“No, Papa, but your eyes are all glowy and um—” Ran broke off at a loss for how to explain the eerie sight.
“Oh, well I guess that’s good considering how I feel.” Sarn rubbed his eyes, this time when he opened them, they focused on J.C., but there was no recognition there.
Damn, she’d wiped out all memory of him too. J.C. sighed. While they sat there, the Adversary was doing who knew what to Mount Eredren’s citizenry, but thanks to a misanthropic bunch of stone mages, he couldn’t enter without Sarn’s help. The Litherians had warded their mountain just as heavily as their standing stones.
“Who’re you?”
“A friend, you promised to help me with an errand, but I can leave you at your door if you’re feeling unwell. We could pass it on the way.” Because I have no idea where the Adversary is. J.C. sighed and regarded the mountain brooding less than a mile behind them. Its protections obscured his sight each time he tried to peer inside, but he ke
pt trying in case there was a chink somewhere.
He grasped Sarn’s forearms and pulled him up. The confused young man swayed but stayed vertical by dint of his formidable will.
“I promised you—yes, I think I remember something about that,” Sarn said though he didn’t look certain.
Likely he felt the promise he’d made nudging him toward its fulfillment. For curse breakers, their word was their bond and their magic enforced any promises they made whether they remembered them or not. That explained why Ran was such a happy child. He’d never experience the pain of a broken promise, not while the only person he extracted promises from could never break them.
Ran smiled up at J.C. and he couldn’t help smiling back despite the gravity of the situation.
“Good, we can talk as we walk.” Thank you, Father, for an amenable guide. In fact, he liked Sarn and his son quite a bit.
Sarn nodded and winced when that movement made his head throb. “Sounds good. Just head straight. There’s a trail up the north side—it’s directly in front of us. There’s a door there.”
Ran’s eyes lit up at the mention. “Yes, it’s a secret. I ‘member where it is.” The boy bounded off dragging his still confused father in his wake.
Whatever the cost, that sunny boy won’t see the Adversary’s evil. This I swear on my sacred heart. J.C. squeezed his free hand into a fist and allowed a few drops to fall as the enthusiastic boy towed him too.
Ships and Spells
“There’s no one there.”
Startled by the sudden intrusion on her personal mission, Inari halted and took a moment to calm her racing heart. Nothing the young man had said registered, but the figurehead on the boat’s prow did and it swelled to take up all her attention.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. A couple hours ago, a guy showed up and they all cleared out leaving no one behind to guard their ship. I mean not that it needs guarding. Our docks are quite secure but—” he trailed off, shrugging at the irregularity.
She knew what he was thinking. The lack of guards was telling. It meant nothing of value was left aboard the ship. Inari took a deep breath. Guilt surfed on the rising tide of relief souring it. She had escaped the long overdue confrontation with her sister because of ill-timing, or was it fate pushing their paths apart? Was there a more appropriate meeting to come?
Inari quashed those troublesome thoughts and focused on the young man rolling a barrel up the shore. Sweat soaked through his shirt, and his cutoff sleeves displayed well-muscled arms darkened from toiling in the sun.
“When did they arrive?” she hurried to catch up to him. His long strides had carried him almost out of earshot.
“Which time?” he threw over his shoulder. His question stopped Inari in her tracks.
Aralore had come and gone more than once? Why had no one noticed? She glanced at the ship’s prow and realized the Seekers had updated their symbology. The broken circle still held pride of place, but it was now accompanied by a flame and two interlocking jagged wheels. The arrangement sent a shiver of foreboding up Inari’s spine.
“Is something wrong?” The young man had stopped to stare at her. He wiped sweat from his brow onto his bare forearm even though there was no sleeve to absorb it.
“When did that ship arrive the first time?” Inari pointed to the longship last in line.
“Two weeks ago, Friday why?”
Inari ignored his question. “Did anyone leave the ship?”
He nodded. “Yeah, a woman did. She went back and forth a few times. What is this all about? Do you know who owns that ship?”
Inari gave a slow nod. Her mind raced. The implications of what this young man had reported planted a sick fear in her heart. Aralore must know about Sarn. Why else would she visit at least twice in the last two weeks? Some rumor of him must have reached her magic-hating order and they must have dispatched her to find and destroy him. She must warn Jerlo and her husband right now. Maybe there was still time to save Sarn.
Before she turned to go, a memory caught her. It was a comment Ranispara had made—something about Sarn having a friend who worked on the docks. Was this man his friend, Will? If he was, he could get a message to Sarn more quickly than she could. How can I find out without compromising the secret of his existence?
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“Should I have? You’ve asked a lot of questions but offered no answers in return. You remind me of someone I know.”
His offhand comment could describe Sarn. Best if she kept silent about that young man until she was certain. “You haven’t mentioned this ship to the Rangers by any chance?”
Again, he shook his head, his suspicion mounting. “Who are you?”
“Inari—I’m the wife of Nolo. He’s second in command of the Rangers.”
He nodded as the mystery cleared itself up to his satisfaction. “Then you know my friend. He’s tall, taciturn and not talking to me lately.”
Inari nodded. She guessed the fellow to be in his late teens putting him close in age to Sarn, who was himself only twenty. “If you see him—”
“As I said before, he’s not talking to me or anyone these days. By the way, I’m Will and if there’s nothing else you need, I have work to do.”
Without another word, Will turned and kicked the barrel. It rolled five-feet before slowing. Muttering a curse, he bent and gave it a good shove.
Inari raised her voice, so she’d be heard over the surf and the rattling of whatever was inside that barrel. “If you do see Sarn, tell him the Seekers are here.”
Will gave her a dismissive wave over his shoulder, but made no other reply. Hopefully, he’d heard and would pass on her warning because Sarn needed to know.
The Seekers’ vessel drew Inari’s gaze. It was a blight on the beach, and its emptiness perturbed her. What are you up to Aralore?
Inari pivoted and struck out across the meadow toward the trail snaking up the mountain’s south face. Twin doors, one open and one closed, faced the river. Their forty by twenty-foot expanse refracted the angled sunlight offering a false invitation to all river-going vessels.
Come here, it said. Enter my shining doors. Find rest in the twisting dark of my maze.
Reluctance to set foot back inside the stronghold she’d called home for ten years made her steps drag. In her soul the travel song played, urging her to take the path less traveled by—the one leading into the forest, not the mountain.
Leave all civilization offered in the dust it ground everyone into, whispered the secret voice, the one her heart used to speak to her of its desires. And one day she would go, but not without her son, Nolo and her best friend, Ranispara.
First, she must warn Jerlo. The Seekers had come calling at last. Maybe it was still early enough to keep them from finding Sarn.
Sarn staggered, caught himself on a boulder, then pushed on up the thin ribbon of gravel winding up Mount Eredren’s northern flank. Ahead, Ran charged up the slope, all but towing him. Bushes dotting the trail blurred and Sarn blinked to clear his sight, but it didn’t help.
Everything was shifted just a little to the left of true. If I could just move everything to the right just a hair, my head would stop hurting and everything would make sense.
Yes. Everything’s off-kilter. We don’t like it, said his magic and it made his head ache anew.
Sarn winced and touched his forehead. “I’ll be okay,” he told his son and J.C. then he frowned at the blood spotting J.C.’s white tunic. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s just a flesh wound, it’ll heal.”
The bells of Mount Eredren rang the hours, and Ran paused to count them on his fingers.
“Seventeen,” he said, flashing ten then seven fingers at Sarn. “What happened to sixteen?”
“It must have rung while we were outside.”
Had the whole episode with the Ægeldar only taken a couple hours to resolve? It was possible since Bear had jumped them around. Surel
y more had happened than that. I’m forgetting something. Something else happened in between. Sarn massaged his forehead, but no answers came.
“We’ll get dinner, soon?” Ran waited for a response. His small body blocked the narrow path knifing its way up the steep grade.
Sarn looked to J.C. for the answer. “What were the terms of our bargain?”
Before he could answer, the mountain quaked. They struggled to stay upright as another tremor shook the mountain. Rocks broke free and tumbled down the trail. Sarn turned sideways and pulled his son behind him. Then he extended his hand and magic fanned out, erecting a green wall between them and the projectiles. The rocks struck his shield and bounced off.
“Why’s the mountain shaking again?” Ran asked. He gripped Sarn’s pant leg as he peered around him.
“I don’t know—” Sarn started to say but his map manifested, and it eclipsed everything for a moment. A star kindled on the third level in the library— “Miren.” Oh Fates, I forgot all about my brother.
Miren didn’t know about the monster in the Ægeldar or the black lumir crystal stealing all the light in the Lower Quarters because Miren had been in school when it happened. But the school day ended a while ago, and Miren would head to the Lower Quarters unless intercepted.
J.C. laid a hand on Sarn’s shoulder and for a moment, a second pair of eyes regarded the map inside his head then the eerie sensation faded. J.C. squeezed his shoulder.
“What do you see, Papa?”
“My brother—your uncle—I must warn him.”
The mountain shook again and this time, screams split the air.
“There’s no time.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Sarn turned to face J.C. but kept the shield up. More rocks collided with it and careened away from the path.
“I came here to stop this, but I won’t know what this is until I get inside.” J.C. nodded to the mountain and its continued quaking. “And I’ll need your help. There are rules.”
“What rules? What are you talking about and what about my brother?”
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