by Kim Wedlock
Anthis frowned as his gaze dropped to the crumpled parchment. He was used to all kinds of scriptures, all kinds of diction, sociolects and short-hand, but now, he hesitated. He could feel her hopeful eyes on him. Rather than risk insulting her by guessing at what she'd scribbled, he tried a different tact. "You've given it a name."
She smiled and nodded, not noticing his evasiveness. "'Sentinel of Ruins' - what is that in elven?"
"In elven?" He thought for a moment. "'Asulzahn'."
Her heart-shaped lips pursed and twisted strangely. Anthis returned it in question.
"I hoped it would be longer."
He nodded his head slowly. "I see..." His smile stifled, he rose to meet her own solemnity instead. "Well...this is going to be able to remove magic that shouldn't be present, and restore ruins to their previous...ruin...yes? So...how about..." This time, he let his knowing smile through. "How about 'Sahfeikrahsulniir'."
She blinked at him.
He gestured for a pencil and began writing much too fast for her to keep up with. "Sah of 'sahkein', the soldier, active defender; feik of 'fein', existence and continuity; sul of 'suln', time everlasting - not 'qísul', which is age, hour, era and so on; and niir of 'puniil', proper, intended or natural state. 'Champion of Balance, Reclaimer'."
Her eyes had transformed into bright discs of wonder as she watched the words form on the page, but they dulled suddenly with suspicion, and she fired it up towards him. "Where's 'reclaimer'?"
"The elves didn't have a word for that. It's 'puniil' in the given context."
She nodded slowly and sat back into the sofa, considering the wood in his hands. He held it up to aid her contemplation. "Sah-feek-rah-sull-nair."
"Sah-fayk-rah-sool-neer."
Her red eyes narrowed and lips pursed tightly. Then, finally, she smiled. "I like it." She beamed up at him. "And now we have to shorten it."
"Shorten it?"
"Like the Zi'veyn."
"I see... Uh...Sah'niir?"
"Perfect."
He chuckled and wrapped an affectionate arm about her as they looked out towards the remarkable thing. "You did a wonderful job on this, you know."
"I guess."
He looked askance towards her, but he found that, for once, she wasn't pouting.
Garon hurried suddenly through the room, startling the pair and rousing the sleeping women. Then came the sound of footsteps.
Sleep was forgotten in a heart beat as all eyes fell impatiently upon the door, but when Rathen entered, only Aria closed the distance. Even as he knelt and hugged her close, there was something terrible in his eyes that made the others hesitate, and the concerns that lay just beneath their skin rose and bloomed into certainties.
But while panic gripped them, Eyila softened in empathy. She was the first to speak. "Rathen, are you all right?"
"Yes." His distant eyes lifted too quickly from the floor, and Aria's voice came muffled from his shoulder.
"You're lying."
"It's not important." He squeezed her again and pushed resolution into his bearing. He didn't seem convinced by it himself. "Nothing that can be changed now, anyway."
He avoided everyone's gaze as he stood, Eyila's in particular, and so he didn't see the sadness in her eyes nor her approach before she embraced him. Surprise eased the lines in his face, but he didn't reject the gesture, and Aria was quick to add her own comfort again.
The others looked at one another uneasily, but no one voiced their questions. Not even when the pair stepped away in silence and let him walk past sullenly to pour a glass of water at the table. His unspoken need for space was respected by all but Garon.
"You've been in the archives all this time?"
"Yes." Rathen's voice was terse. "With Owan."
"Why?"
"Because I thought maybe he could help with the spell. He's a scholar. Why else?"
Garon moved around beside him and speared him with a flinty look. Rathen's own dark eyes remained fixed to the furthest wall. "This might be your old territory, but things have changed, and right now, in this place, you are the only guarantee of safety for the rest of us. Don't get complacent."
"I'm not getting complacent. I'm trying to get help."
"Through private conversations? You're being secretive."
"I've been out of touch with everyone here for over a decade. There are a few things and people I wanted to check up on while I had the chance."
"Meetings?"
Rathen's lips tightened. His stare didn't move. "No. We're at war. Anyone I'd like to have spoken to isn't here - some never will be again. And I hadn't intended to try, anyway. We have other things to deal with."
"Who were you asking after?"
"Did I probe after your discussion with Taric?"
"You heard everything we said and I didn't try to hide it."
"You're paranoid, Garon." Now his gaze moved, and its sudden softness surprised the officer. He turned and walked away, glass unfinished, and nodded to Caiden as he poked his head around the door. "Get your things," he told the others, "we can't stay in here all night. There are rooms--"
"What?" Garon flashed back around in front of him and faced off against the flicker of annoyance on Rathen's face. "We need to leave the city."
"Not before twilight."
"Garon," Petra spoke up before he could object, "Rathen's right. It'll be quieter if we leave in the morning, and you don't really want to traipse through the snow all night, do you? You must be at least as tired as the rest of us..."
"Get some sleep, Garon," Rathen agreed, moving towards the door ahead of them. "Make the most of a bed while you can. There's no need to patrol tonight."
"Complacent."
Rathen's jaw hardened, but he didn't look back around. He took Aria's hand even as she continued stuffing her things back into her bag and strode out of the door behind the sergeant's lead.
They rose two more floors before reaching another identical hallway, and stopped outside a door about mid-way along where their guide began to apologise.
"It's far more than we're used to," Rathen assured him. "Aria, you stay with me; Petra and Eyila can take the next room, and Garon and Anthis the other." He noted Anthis's shoulders sag in dread and offered an apologetic smile.
"Owan will be here to escort you out at the third hour. I'll ensure the way is clear."
"Thank you, Caiden."
"It's an honour to be in your service, Sahrot." He saluted, and Rathen's own shoulders slumped, but he made no attempt to correct him, deciding it easier to formally dismiss him instead. That seemed to please the soldier, who pained him with another ceremonial salute before stiffly walking away.
Rathen made a point of avoiding even brushing the others with his gaze. He turned curtly and all but dragged Aria into the twin room behind him.
Chapter 52
For almost fifteen minutes Aria had done nothing but stare at her father from her bed, her feet kicking about beneath the luxuriously soft, thick covers, making the most of the vast space even despite the intense seriousness of her gaze. Rathen had ignored it for as long as he could. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Yessir."
He sighed witheringly and squeezed his eyes shut tight. "Vastal save me."
"You never used to say things like that."
"Say things like what?"
"Anything about gods." Her feet continued wriggling. "Not by name."
"Well...company has a habit of rubbing off on you." He peered closer at his book in an attempt to escape the analysis. "You never used to carry a sword."
"It's not a real sword."
"In all honesty, Aria, with what Petra's been teaching you, I'm pretty sure you could do some damage with it all the same."
"Not to you, though."
"I can only hope." He felt her stare continue. Finally, he closed his book, left the bed upon which he sat and moved across to her side. She rolled over to face him and grinned. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were red. S
he was tired. She must have stayed awake all day and night until he'd come back. He smiled sadly and brushed a curl from her face. "I'm sorry for being away for so long."
"It's all right. I understand. You were trying to get help."
"Yes, I was."
"Did Owan not want to take over the spell, either?"
A hot flush of panic squeezed his heart up and into his throat; outwardly, he merely blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Well you wanted to give it all to someone else to finish so you could cast it and use it quicker, didn't you?"
"Oh...yes, of course that's it... I didn't realise I'd told you..."
"You didn't. But it's okay. And you'll finish it on your own - you've come so far already, I know you can do it. I'm so proud of you."
His eyebrows rose as her big eyes glittered with adoration, and he felt that much too familiar shame flood into his chest. He realised then that he was profoundly sick of it and the self-loathing it dragged along with it. 'This,' he vowed, wholly and silently, 'will be the last time.' And with every possible avenue of aid now exhausted, it shouldn't be a difficult matter to keep.
He reached out and placed his hand gently upon the side of her face, the only part of her not bundled beneath the blankets, and fixed her steadily. "I promise: I will never keep a secret from you again."
"What about everyone else?"
"That is a promise I refuse to make."
She giggled, nestling her cheek into his hand, "that's okay - we can have secrets from them as long as we don't have any from each other."
He laughed and kissed her forehead. She yawned immediately. "Get some sleep, little one. You've been up for much too long. We're moving again in a few hours."
"Yessir." She closed her eyes as he kissed her again, but they quickly flickered back open. "You won't go anywhere, will you?"
"No, sweetheart. Not this time. Now sleep. I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy."
He tucked her in and returned to sit upon his own bed. She was asleep in minutes. He envied her that, but his mind was much too awake to follow. And so he noticed quickly the sound of uncertain footsteps shuffling around outside the door.
He listened closely as they faded, and again as they returned, lingering in the hallway between the three rooms. Carefully, he rose and hurried towards the door, his own feet as quiet as he could make them to avoid waking Aria or startling the intruder. When he opened the door, however, he found only Eyila moving towards Garon and Anthis's room. Fear of intrusion passed. Now came the fear that it had already happened. "What is it?" He whispered urgently. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," she blinked, startled and wide-eyed, gesturing back towards the door on the opposite side of the hall. "Garon wanted to speak with Petra, so I'm giving them some privacy."
She turned away from the handle, however, and stepped towards him slowly, her young, peculiarly beautiful face suddenly twisted in sympathy. When she spoke, her musical voice lilted with care. "Are you all right?"
His shoulders rounded beneath that painfully familiar look. "I'm fine. It was a while ago now."
"It doesn't matter. You only just found out. It may as well have just happened."
"I put that life and its friendships behind me when I left."
"That doesn't matter, either." She nodded through the door behind him. "Talk to Aria. Talk to Petra. Talk to me. Don't bottle it up."
"This all sounds familiar..."
"Then it shouldn't need saying again, should it?"
Rathen considered her soft little smile with no small degree of wonder. She cried, she mourned, but she lived with the fate of her people. She was, ultimately, very strong for someone so young. But while he appreciated her words - or, rather, his own - truthfully, he was more surprised by the news than anything. He was a soldier, and, among other things, a soldier was trained in a few certain truths: life happens, death happens, war happens, and people are lost. But if those people - friends and strangers alike - live and fight for what is good and right, then not one of them is any more or less worth remembering than the rest. He would pay his respects by finishing the job he'd started and protecting the land his childhood friends had died for.
His back straightened more easily with that thought in his mind. "Thank you," he said, for she had forced that buzzing sentiment into a coherent state. "Oh - I can call Caiden back and see if there's somewhere he can take you so you can meditate tonight--"
"No, no it's fine, thank you," she smiled honestly, "I don't want to be any trouble - perhaps I'll just read with Anthis instead. Or, try to..."
"How is that coming along?"
"Slowly," she sighed. "It was wonderful at first, but now it's...becoming more difficult... Why would someone follow a trail of cakes left in the woods?"
"Aria's asked me the same question. Hunger will do that." He smiled at her helpless look. "Good luck. And don't stay up too late."
"I don't plan to." She turned and knocked at Anthis's door. "Toa'uuya, Rathen."
"Toa'uuya, Eyila. Sweet dreams."
The night hadn't moved when they descended into the tower's deserted foyer early the next morning. Candles and sconces continued to flicker, the chill continued to seep, and the sky outside through the cracks between the curtains remained as black as ink. None but Aria felt restored - if anything, the alien luxury of soft beds had made their night that much more agitated. Owan, Caiden and the three elders, however, each appeared perfectly refreshed.
"Thank you for putting us up," Rathen said politely all the same.
"It's our pleasure," Arator replied, and then a formality fell over him, one Rathen felt it was much too early for, but he awaited the old man's words patiently. "You all took a great risk in coming here. Greater, I think, than any of us realised. But with all that you've given us, the Order can organise itself. We now know exactly what we're dealing with and where our attention will be best focused for the good of Turunda, and we will do all that we can towards it under present circumstances.
"But, while it seems that magic is only a small part of the problem, I regret that we cannot touch Salus. One authority moving openly against another beneath the same crown, be they corrupt or not - it cannot be done. Not by us in the poor light we now stand in, nor even by the White Hammer, so few in number. Not without the king's order. But," he straightened and looked with encouragement over the weary group's disappointment, "you came here seeking defences against the magic, and that, you will have. They will have to be done by the book, but with the information we have 'stumbled upon' suggesting the reason for the arcane turmoil, we can do it."
"Will the Crown buy the claim that it all fell into your lap?" Rathen asked while the others frowned. "The Order weren't officially looking into it."
The grand magister paused, then, and looked at him for a moment. "You're looking rather old, Rathen. Dry and leathery. And there's a great deal written all over your face."
Their confusion deepened, edged even by a little insult on his behalf, but Rathen merely shook his head. "As you're no longer my superior, I have no reservations in telling you that your sense of humour leaves much to be desired."
Delas chuckled quietly while a brief flicker of injury passed over Arator's face. "One mention of a dusty old tome and Lord Riken will switch off," she explained for the others' benefit. "It will be a trifle. What these defences will be capable of is another matter, but, at the very least, they will be able to detect the encroachment of more magic and the expansion of the chasms. With any luck, we'll be able to avoid or prevent another incident like the one at Toakh."
"It's just as well it had already been evacuated," Rathen replied remorsefully. "The only people who would have been hurt are looters, and they knew better than to venture in." He bowed only briefly, but that in itself was far beyond his usual gesture. "Thank you for reconsidering; defences are all that we hoped for. But Toakh's destruction was the result of Salus's interference - any chasm he sets his eye on is probably already beyond your
help."
"But not," she smiled, "beyond yours."
"Only once the spell is finished. While the magic remains, it seems he'll be able to continue doing it. He stretched that chasm from White Barrows after I'd silenced the magic there..."
"Then I wish you haste as well as luck. We will do our best to protect settlements. We can hold a few mages back to protect Kulokhar and look for anything suspicious, and divert a few elsewhere to reinforce mages in settlements near magnetic sites since they're at greatest risk."
"He has surveillance spells."
"They've...been dealt with..." Arator's old face furrowed in consternation, a look that discomforted even the two elders. "We had detected them, but we'd thought that they were the workings of rebels...but how they'd managed it, we couldn't work out, and they wouldn't admit knowledge of them... If we could cast spells like that--"
"Then you should keep such things to yourself."
"We didn't want them to know we'd discovered them so we didn't counter-spell them. We've only interfered with those within these walls. What they relay is not the truth."
"That's just as well. Perhaps it's better to let Salus think he has the upper hand rather than put him in his place and have him come back at you with something worse."
"You have a high opinion of his skills," Delas remarked, but Rathen merely shrugged. Evidently the grand magister hadn't yet shared with his fellow department heads all that he'd been given.
"Far better to prevent than fight against."
"I can hardly believe you're the same man."
"People won't like the Order's increased presence," Garon reminded them.
Delas drew herself up contentiously. "The Order is not guilty."
"Not as a whole, perhaps, but even setting the rebellion aside, mages are still being driven mad and appear to be attacking on their own. They're drawn towards the magnetism rather than the source now that it's been cut off - is there not a greater risk of these...incidents if there are more mages in populated areas?"