by C. A. McHugh
Mother
Aerrin read the letter several more times. Each pass added to both the shock and the shame coursing through his veins. Suddenly, everything took on a whole new meaning. The letters had to have been updates from home about a missing person—perhaps even a family member—and perhaps her lack of sleep was from nothing more than worry. And it certainly could explain the scrying Nyssa had reported. But most important, she knew the Raven Bringer had returned and now probably had a reason to fight him.
In other words, she could become the powerful ally Master Binnius hinted she would be.
If they hadn’t already driven her away.
Leandros peered over his shoulder and read it. He whistled lowly when he finished. “Well, that explains why she wasn’t expelled after she attacked Master Philgus. She’s related to Master Binnius.”
Which raised even more questions. Master Binnius could’ve alleviated most of his doubts if he’d just said Seroney was his granddaughter or something like that. But why did neither of them mention their connection to him? Unless, of course, it would reveal some other secret, such as the fact she wasn’t from Elgeus. Her accent, her knowledge of strange magics—could they all be proof she was from Oudesta? And if she was, did that extend to Master Binnius, too?
He needed to focus on something small before jumping after the bigger questions. “Who is this Ayselus?”
“You call yourself a king, and you don’t know all the deities?” Nyssa replied.
“As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one goddess—Mariliel.” He found his boots by the fire and pulled them on. “It would help me to know her leanings.”
Nyssa scoffed at his ignorance. “Ayselus is the goddess of life and nature and an opposing deity to Zelquis.”
“So hooray for our side?” Leandros asked with a touch of confusion.
“Yes. Some of the most powerful undead hunters in the kingdom are followers of Ayselus.” Nyssa pursed her lips and tapped her cheek with her index finger. “Although, for a letter written in Elvish, you’d think they’d mention Elios instead.”
“Elios?” Another deity he knew nothing about.
Nyssa pulled out the journal. “The goddess of the elves, according to the notes in here.”
“Thank the goddess for that, because if we talking about elves, then that brings in the whole Oudesta problem again.” Leandros tossed the core of his apple out the window and turned around in time to catch the worried glances Aerrin exchanged with Nyssa. “Wait a minute—there’s something else you two know that you’re not telling me.”
“It was just something I stumbled upon last night,” Nyssa said, flipping through the pages of the journal.
“And you didn’t tell me?” Leandros asked in mock disbelief.
“You were too busy being a drunken fop,” she shot back. She looked to Aerrin as though asking permission to share. After he nodded, she said, “We may have reason to believe Master Binnius is from Oudesta.”
Once she’d gone over her findings, Leandros rubbed his cheeks and shook his head. “This gets crazier and crazier by the minute.”
“Instead of concentrating on what’s pure speculation at this point, I suggest we focus on what we do know.” Nyssa held up her fingers as she listed each fact. “One: Seroney knows the Raven Bringer is still alive. Two: He attacked someone close her. Very close, if we consider her reaction to this letter. Three: She is somehow related to Master Binnius, although I’m still searching for what that word means exactly. And four: her mother is a follower of Ayselus, which would make it rather difficult for Seroney to be a follower of Zelquis.”
The sinking feeling in Aerrin’s gut grew with each point she listed. “I feel rotten.”
“I know of a wonderful hangover remedy,” Leandro replied with his usual flippancy. “I can go down to the kitchens and make it.”
“Not that. I mean about Seroney. We could have been nicer to her.” He met Nyssa’s gaze, catching the same hint of guilt in her eyes before she looked away.
Leandros, however, seemed immune to their emotion. “I was nice to her.”
“You’re not helping matters.”
Leandros sat next to Aerrin, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “If it will make you feel any better, most of the school had some questions after she fought the Jarilith and attacked Master Philgus, but they still warmed up to her. You might be the same way. There’s still a chance to make up for everything. She’s going to be back at the Academy once classes resume, right? We can just apologize and say we want to be her friends. If that doesn’t work, we can confront her with what we know and see if we get any more answers. Either way, it’s a win-win situation.”
Aerrin scowled at the idea of blackmail. “I hope it’s as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
“Of course it will be. Now send for breakfast. I’m starving.”
Aerrin forced down the bile that rose in his throat. Food was the last thing on his mind. But to appease his friend, he rang for a servant and continued to dress himself. By the time Aerrin buttoned up his jerkin, a young man had wheeled in a cart full of fruits, meats, and pastries and set them on the table beside a steaming pot of tea.
Leandros pounced on the tray and grabbed a handful of the pastries. “Better grab some while you can.”
Nyssa popped him on the back of the head. “Such manners. And you call yourself a noble.”
Leandros popped another muffin in his mouth and grinned while Nyssa poured a cup of tea with the grace of a duchess.
Aerrin sat across the table from his friends, hesitant to voice the new doubt that had crept into his mind since Nyssa had started translating the letter. “I’m beginning to wonder how much I can trust Master Binnius.”
“You can trust him,” a voice answered from the wall behind him.
Aerrin whipped around to find the stone panel leading to the tunnels sliding open. Raimel barged into Aerrin’s bedroom without waiting for an invitation and licked his lips when he noticed the bountiful breakfast laid out on the table. Ceryst followed behind him and tossed his cloak on the warming rack by the fire.
“Help yourself,” Aerrin said to Raimel, offering him his chair before turning his attention to the former Knight Protector. “And based on what we’ve just learned, I wouldn’t be so certain about that.”
“Wait a minute,” Leandros interrupted, pointing at the secret door. “How long has that been there? And why didn’t I know about it?”
“Keeping secrets from your best friend, eh?” Raimel ate with the same fervor as Leandros, stuffing one handful after another into his mouth until Ceryst halted him with a smack on the back of his head. “Hey, what was that for?”
“Mind your manners.” Ceryst squared his shoulders and gave Raimel a stern glare that practically dared the younger man to challenge him.
The break gave Aerrin enough time to retrieve Seroney’s letter and Nyssa’s translation. He gave them to Ceryst. “Take a look at these.”
The knight glanced at the original letter and shook his head in confusion. Then he read the translation and handed it to Raimel, who let out a low whistle when he finished.
“So you’re not the Raven Bringer’s only target, huh?” Raimel gave the letter back to Ceryst and resumed eating his breakfast with both hands. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty, it doesn’t make you any less special.”
“You failed to pick up on two important points.” Ceryst stared at the letter. “The first of which is that Nyssa had to translate it. From what?”
“Elvish, we believe,” Nyssa answered, opening the journal to show him the hand-written dictionary.
Aerrin was relieved the knight appeared concerned about that, too.
Something flickered across Ceryst’s face as though he’d just been revisited by a distant memory.
“What?” Aerrin asked.
“Nothing. Just thought I…” Ceryst shook his head, and the dazed light fled his eyes. He reread the letter. “The last time we battled the Raven Br
inger, I recall Master Binnius talking to this peculiar man. He had an accent not unlike Seroney’s, and these strange, golden eyes. Almost predatory. I distinctly remember them because they were so unnatural.”
“A relative of Seroney’s, perhaps?” Leandros asked.
“Maybe.” Ceryst gave the letter back to Aerrin, but before he let go of it, he held Aerrin’s gaze for a long second.
It was an unspoken message that Aerrin got loud and clear.
He wanted to speak to him alone when this was over.
Aerrin gave a discreet nod and folded the paper into quarters. “Based on this evidence, I have good reason to believe that Seroney knows the Raven Bringer is back. More disturbing, though, is the possibility she—and maybe even Master Binnius—are from Oudesta.”
Raimel wiped his hands on his pants. “What makes you think that?”
“How many Elgeans would be able to read a letter in Elvish?” Aerrin shot back.
“You have a point, but I’m just trying to pick out the flaws in your logic.” Raimel rose from the table and joined him and Ceryst. “Regardless, there’s something I didn’t fail to pick up on, and that’s the fact he’s targeting someone other than you. She must have done something to piss him off to have him kill a person close to her. This victim is likely someone known to the old man, too, which was why Seroney’s mother wanted him to come to the funeral.”
Aerrin flashed back to his recent conversation with the headmaster. Master Binnius had seemed older than usual, as though something terrible had aged him a decade. What if the personal matter he needed to attend to was a family member’s funeral?
“In other words, she has just as much reason to both fear and hate the Raven Bringer as you do,” Raimel added, “and you might want to recruit her while you can before he recruits more apprentices.”
Aerrin’s breath hitched, and he forgot all about whether the Raven Bringer had the power to travel across the Divide. “Apprentices?”
Ceryst glanced over to Leandros and Nyssa.
Aerrin knew why he was hesitating. “They’re my best friends,” he replied. “If there’s something you wish to tell me, you can say it in front of them.”
The knight cleared his throat before speaking. “We’ve suspected the Raven Bringer may have been training a few apprentices since this summer—”
“You suspected,” Raimel interrupted. “I’ve known ever since I had my first run-in with that bitch the day of the cauldron lighting ceremony.”
The same day that Raimel and Ceryst had saved his life from a demon assassin. “That was just one, though, right? The woman?”
Raimel gave Ceryst a guilty glance. “He’s mentioned more.”
Aerrin didn’t need Raimel to say the information was directly from the Raven Bringer. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“Because I wanted to go on something other than the voices in his head.” Ceryst jabbed his partner’s shoulder, earning an exaggerated grumble from the younger man. “But last night, we finally met the female apprentice in person.”
Aerrin drew a breath to calm the jitters that started in the pit of his stomach and threatened to overwhelm him. “Tell me everything.”
“My sources reported that someone had drawn some suspicious markings in an alcove under the city, so we went down into the tunnels to investigate it.” Raimel shifted on his feet and looked away, leaving Aerrin to believe there was more to this story than he was willing to reveal, especially since the underground tunnels were controlled by the King of Thieves.
“And we had a face-to-face confrontation with a woman claiming to be the Raven Bringer’s apprentice,” Ceryst finished. “Raimel managed to wound her with the same poison they hit me with a couple of months ago, so with any luck, this will be the last we’ll see of her.”
As long as she didn’t find the antidote, Aerrin knew. The poison made it impossible to heal wounds with magic, leaving the victim to bleed out unless hykona leaves were placed in the wound to draw the poison out first.
Seroney had been the one who’d provided the information on the antidote and ultimately saved Ceryst’s life that night.
“And if she survives?” he asked.
“Then at least we know what we’re up against.” Ceryst glanced at Raimel. “Of course, there are a few things we’d like to discuss with Master Binnius.”
“Such as?” He was the king, damn it. He’d taken over rule of the kingdom, and he was growing tired of people keeping secrets from him, especially when the safety of the kingdom was at stake.
The knight’s expression hardened into something as unyielding as his stiff posture. “I’d like to discuss it with Master Binnius present. Where is he?”
“Not here, and before you ask, I have no idea where he is. He refused to tell me. He could be on the other side of the Divide, if we’re to believe what this letter implies.”
A curse flew from Ceryst’s lips, and he kicked the ash bucket. The metal clanged against the stone fireplace, and ashes scattered across the hearth and hung in the air.
Raimel rushed to him and pushed Ceryst into the shadowed recess created by the ornate mantle. “Calm down before the Royal Guard barges in to make sure king-boy here is safe.”
King-boy? Aerrin opened his mouth to protest, but Raimel shushed him with a glare.
As if on cue, the door opened with a bang, and two guards ran in, their weapons drawn. “We heard a noise. Are you safe, Your Majesty?”
Aerrin glanced to where Ceryst and Raimel had stood, only to find no one there. The hair on his arms prickled. They’d vanished without the telltale blue mist that lingered after teleportation.
He scrambled for an excuse and nodded toward the mess on the floor. “I, um, tripped over the ash bucket.”
The guards lowered their weapons. “We’ll send someone to clean that up, Your Majesty.”
“No rush. Wait until I’m finished with breakfast.” He glanced back to where Ceryst and Raimel had stood and swore he saw the shadows ripple.
A chill rushed down his spine, leaving rows of gooseflesh in its wake. Maybe he should be more worried about the current company he was keeping.
The guards bowed and retreated, seeming to accept his explanation and request. But as soon as the door closed, Ceryst and Raimel emerged from the shadows in a flash.
Nyssa pointed to them, her eyes wide. “How did you do that?”
“A simple illusion.” Raimel crossed the room with a few long-legged strides and threw his arm around Leandros’s shoulders. “How about we investigate these tunnels and see what’s in the kitchen?”
“How about you teach me that spell?” Nyssa countered, trailing after them.
Raimel gave Ceryst a reckless grin, to which the knight replied, “Don’t even think about it.”
“But she wants to learn, and there’s so much I could teach her.”
“Don’t.” A growl rose into Ceryst’s voice, and Aerrin understood why he’d earned the nickname “Lone Wolf.” At that moment, the man appeared every inch as dangerous as a feral wolf with nothing to lose.
Raimel rolled his eyes and led them to the door. “Come on. I’m still starving, and you seem like the kind of guy who knows how to swipe food when the cook’s not looking.”
“Of course I do.” Leandros puffed out his chest. “But who says I have to swipe when the maids are already sweet on me.”
Nyssa rolled her eyes. “Those twits will fall all over themselves for anyone with a title, even if he has no wealth or prospects other than being a royal leech.”
Raimel chuckled as they left, his irreverent demeanor the complete opposite of his partner’s weary frustration, and offered Nyssa his arm. “And along the way, I can enlighten you about the realm of illusion, my lady”
After they left, Ceryst kicked at the air again and released a heavy sigh. Another string of curses rolled off his tongue, but at a muted volume this time.
“Tell me what’s really going on.” Aerrin crossed his arms an
d sat back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his attention never wavering from the man who knew more than he was willing to share. And he wouldn’t give up until he’d pulled those secrets from Ceryst one way or another.
Ceryst met his gaze with narrowed eyes, and his hand fell to his sword. “Are you certain you want to know everything? I’d hate for you to have nightmares.”
“I’m not a boy.”
“But you’re hardly a man.” The staring match dragged on for another twenty seconds before his hand left the hilt of his sword and his shoulders rolled in surrender. “Why does Master Binnius have to be gone when I need him the most?”
“I can’t answer that, but I suspect it has something to do with Seroney’s letter.” He pointed to the chair Leandros had just vacated. “Sit.”
The knight did as he was ordered, but not without taking his time. When he did sit, weariness appeared to weigh down his body. “I was thinking about that man I caught Master Binnius with years ago. I left out something earlier.”
“What?”
“They were initially speaking in a language I didn’t understand. But once they saw me, they switched to our language.” Ceryst scratched his beard. “I’d lay odds they were speaking whatever language that letter was written in.”
“So it’s not a preposterous idea to think Master Binnius is from the other side of the Divide?”
Ceryst shook his head. “No, but the old man is so wily, he might’ve used some spell to speak to the man. But there’s no doubt in my mind the man with the strange eyes wasn’t from here.”
Aerrin mulled over the observation. “How long have people been able to cross the Great Divide, I wonder?”
“There’s always been tales about that, but no confirmation.” Ceryst sat up straighter. “But we have bigger problems than a girl at the Academy. The apprentice last night proved again that the Raven Bringer’s been busy collecting his own army of powerful allies, and if we want to defeat him, we need to do the same.”