by Brad Carsten
“They're coming. Kaylyn, go. Don't use this again. Run.” He screamed it this time. “Run!”
That jolted Kaylyn, and her power blinked out, and with that her brother disappeared.
“Kael,” she sobbed, her hand still stretched to where he had been only moments before. Sitting there in the dark, she knew that she could never go back to the life she'd led before. She could no longer remain in the manor while the world fell apart around her. She had to do something about it, or she could lose the rest of her family as well. That was the night she learned to hold back Gaharah. She still longed for love and a life away from the manor, but that would never happen. Right now, she could do something that mattered: she could find out what happened to her father, and find a way to fix it all.
The only clues she had were the pendant, the battle of Almswick, and a small village that her father had spoken about just before he died. She couldn't remember the name, only that it started with a 'G.' So she read every book she could, she got Master Kempsdane to send letters, and she ordered maps from across the kingdom. Her obsession grew, until she couldn't take it anymore, and that's when a letter arrived speaking about trouble in a village named Gosspree-nor, and Kaylyn was taken back many years to when she was a child, sitting on her father's lap, and he had spoken about the village. She remembered the name.
That was the night she spoke to Master Kempsdane about leaving.
He tried to talk her out of it, but her mind was made up, and he finally agreed, on one condition: that he'd arrange for an escort of men who were loyal to the throne.
It took a month to arrange everything, and when Kaylyn said goodbye to Master Kempsdane, and left the manor for the first time in ten years, she knew that for good or for bad, her life would never be the same again.
Kaylyn didn't tell Liam everything, but she told him enough, and afterwards, she felt like her burden had lifted. He kissed her, and she lay in his arms for a long time feeling safer than she'd ever felt before, and she knew that whatever happened to her after this, she had finally found a true moment of happiness that she could hold onto forever.
“So, what do we do now?” Liam asked.
“We find a way back into the palace, and we close that door once and for all.”
Chapter 31
“How’s Fayre doing,” Kaylyn asked Quinn when they passed each other in the passage on the way to their rooms. Behind them, the incessant rain pattered the shutters contently.
“She’s sleeping now. The wound hasn't healed completely, but the infection is cleared at least, and she isn't in as much pain as she was. She can sit up, and she walked around a bit on her own, but she can't remember much about the attack, or what happened afterwards. She remembers speaking to me about the archive though. Oh, that she didn't forget. She spent the last hour interrogating me as though I was the one who hid it. I eventually began bouncing up and down, and told her I needed to find a tree, but I just needed to get away for a while. I'm exhausted.”
“I can believe that, and I’m sure it's from more than just the interrogation. We've had a trying couple of days. You especially. I can't imagine how hard it's been not knowing if she'd make it or not. You need to spend the next week in bed. We all do.”
“I would, but every time I close my eyes, I end up in Gaharah, and then Landton arrives. He keeps trying to get me to follow him to who knows where.”
“Who’s Landton?”
“He was one of the scribes that was killed in the attack.”
That brought a stab of gilt as it always did when she thought about what happened to them. “Did you know him at all?”
“A little. The night of the attack, I played a game with him called Grubbers.” Quinn got a sad look in his eyes. “It was a stupid game that he made up, and he was hoping that it would take off eventually and that one day the king would even summon him to the palace to teach them all how to play it. He was a good sort.”
“I'm sorry. Perhaps you can still show it to the court in his memory.”
“Oh, no,” Quinn snorted a laugh. “Believe me, you don't want that. You really, really don't want that.”
Kaylyn was curious, but didn't push it. “Well, at least you could help Fayre, so some good did come out of Gaharah.”
“I played a part. I found the books, but it would have taken a hundred years to get through them all. We really owe it all to that willock. The poor thing's been locked in that wagon for, I don't know how many centuries already, waiting for someone to set him free. I told him I’d bring you, but I have no idea how to get you there.”
“We'll figure it out. I'm just as eager to get in there and see it for myself. I can't believe you found the Mystic Tomes. That could unlock everything.” A shiver ran down her spine when she thought about all the secrets that those books may contain. “But first, we have to close that gateway.” Nothing could make up for the lives that had been killed on this journey, but if she could close the gateway once and for all, then at least they wouldn't have died in vain. She'd have every one of those names carved in gold plaques and mounted in the palace gardens. It wouldn't be much, but at least their names would be remembered forever. She would have to add Landton and the rest of the scribes to that ever—growing list.
“When are you leaving?” Quinn asked.
“First thing tomorrow morning. I would go now if I could, but Liam's exhausted.”
“He was more than exhausted,” Quinn said, “he could hardly stand. Master Livius had to check his kegs to make sure that Liam hadn't found his way inside of them.”
Kegs? The old miser had said that wine was a vice. She wondered how many barrels he had tucked away somewhere, while they were drinking lemon and water. She forced the thought aside before she got thirsty again. “Yes, casting takes a lot out of you. It's going to be a while before I can draw much more than a trickle through him without him passing out, but I can't wait to figure out what we can do together. At last, things are looking up.”
“You look happy.”
“I am. I really am.”
“And I noticed you two holding hands earlier.” He gave her a sly look. “Anything you care to share?”
Kaylyn laughed, and blushed. “Well, now that I can cast through him, he's kind of stuck with me for a while, whether he likes it or not.”
“The poor chap. Perhaps he’ll need those kegs after all.”
Kaylyn slapped his arm.
“But in all seriousness,” Quinn said, “I've known Liam my whole life, and he's always been closed off, but around you, he's different. He's happy, so you must be doing something right. He cares deeply about you. You can see it in the way he looks at you.”
The words were as sweet as honey, and as delicious as a treacle tart. Kaylyn wanted to cry she was so happy, and yet she knew it was true because she had felt it. It was something she could experience for the rest of her life and never grow tired of. Now that someone loved her, she was at last beginning to see herself more objectively, and for the first time, she wasn't ashamed of what she saw. She felt in time that she may even come to love herself.
She gave Quinn a massive hug, and again she wanted to cry those happy tears. She had lost her brother, but on this journey, she had found two more. Well, a brother, and something much greater. Her heart swelled just thinking about that, and she wanted to run to Liam’s room to see him, and hold him close, and smell him again. Her heart was fluttering with the thought, and she felt so light and excited, she gave Quinn a kiss on the cheek. “I'm going to miss you and Fayre.”
“Me too. I would go with you, but we need to get the archive back to the scribes. If anyone survived, they'll be making their way to Luthengard. Fayre doesn't even know if her father made it or not, Fate hope he did, but whatever happened, he did it to save her, and at least now that wasn't for nothing.”
“I understand. Do what you need to do, and we'll come and join you as soon as we can. Once this is over, we're all going somewhere far away—”
“To t
he ocean, I hear,” Quinn said.
“Yes, to Petu, where white beaches stretch on for miles and the water is so clear you can see your feet at the bottom.”
Quinn took over as the words caught his imagination. “We'll catch fish and live like drifters under the stars, and never have to see another sword again.”
“Oh, I'm in,” Kaylyn said.
“So, it's a deal then.” He put out his hand to shake.
“Deal.”
***
They got up early the next morning, while it was still dark outside. Kaylyn hauled Liam out of bed, and then had to put his boots on for him. She knew the feeling, but unlike the tiredness that always came from casting, this wasn't accompanied by evil. When Kaylyn went to open the shutters, she discovered, to her delight, that a small potted plant on his window ledge had blossomed overnight. She brought it to show him, but his eyes could hardly focus and his head kept dipping forward.
She kissed his head and returned the plant carefully to the windowsill, and decided not to show anyone else. This would be her little secret. She gave it some water and smelled the flowers, enjoying the moment while she had it to herself.
Quinn supported Liam downstairs, and helped load him into the back of the wagon. The rain hadn't eased, and she was grateful that the wagon was covered with a canvas tarpaulin, though it didn't do much against the cold.
Quinn stifled a yawn. “You know how to ride that thing?”
“Not really.” Kaylyn climbed up onto the driver's bench and took hold of the reins. “but I'm sure I can figure it out.” How difficult could it be? “At least Liam can sleep in the back. He's going to need it once we reach the capital.”
“Just be careful out there. I hear the fighting is fierce. And look after Liam. At least if anyone's got his back it's you.”
“I will. I'll return him to you in one piece. I promise. And look after Fayre. Make sure her bandages stay clean. You don't want her picking up a new infection.”
“Speaking of Fayre, she wanted me to give you the Sage’s journals. I loaded them into the back already. That's everything they have on Gaharah. She said there may be something in there that can help you figure out how to close the gate. Let me warn you though, they’ll put you to sleep quicker than one of Master Livius’ sleep drafts.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” She leaned over and hugged him.
Quinn slapped the horse's rump, and it started off down the small dirt track.
He stood under the protection of the eves watching them until the wagon rumbled over the rise.
Kaylyn’s heart was heavy to be leaving them behind, and yet bursting with joy to have Liam all to herself for a few days before they reached the capital. She'd let him sleep, but she couldn't wait for him to wake up again so that they could talk and talk and talk, about everything and nothing, and everything. She'd waited ten years for this. She had a lot of catching up to do.
She leaned back and kissed his cheek, and he smiled and mumbled something and then turned onto his side and was asleep again within seconds. Kaylyn pulled his blanket up over his neck and contented herself with reliving their conversation up on the roof of the tower, where he'd first told her that he loved her. She imagined all the times he'd say it again, and everything she’d do to show him that she felt the same way.
When Kaylyn wasn't thinking about Liam, she spent the time pouring over the Sage's journals. Unlike Quinn, she found the books fascinating, and with the Sage’s insights, the pieces slowly began fitting together.
***
From Talondeor it took two days to reach Entarka, the first outpost at the edge of the capital. From there, it was too dangerous to go further without an escort. They arrived by late morning, but the sky seemed hazy and dark, as though evening had come too soon. At first Liam wondered if he’d slept too long and that had thrown off his instincts, which had become as finely tuned to the hour as they were to distance. The haze lasted for hours though, and he realised, soon enough, that there was nothing natural about it. The whole thing put him on edge.
At first, the soldiers refused an audience with the commanding officer, until Kaylyn drew out her signet ring, and that lit a fire under their tails. Within minutes, the officer hurried outside personally to welcome her to the outpost. He was still buttoning up his cloak, when he descended the stairs two at a time.
“Your Highness.” He bowed. “Pardon my men. If they had known, they wouldn't have kept Your Highness waiting, but I didn't know that—” he paused, unsure how to proceed.
“That I was still alive? No, you wouldn't. Few do, but I need to get to my brother, Prince Thomwyn, as soon as possible.”
“Right away, Your Highness.” He gave a deep bow before calling for his men.
Riders were sent out to the nearest towns, and by that afternoon, she had an escort of over two hundred soldiers.
Some were militia, but, as the officer explained apologetically, “the towns and outposts had been stripped of most of their men to keep the nightspawn back. I would give you twice as many if I could, but we just don't have the resources.”
“It's okay,” Kaylyn said. “You have done more than enough.”
Liam sat in his saddle staring at the dark sky. “Is it wise to leave now? There can't be too many hours left until nightfall.”
“Where we're going, M’Lord, that doesn't matter anymore.”
The horses clattered over the uneven road, with thick roots forcing the paving slabs up. Liam recognised it from when he took the soldiers to the capital, but the kingdom didn't have the men or the money to maintain it, and it had been left to go to ruin. The road was wide enough for a string of wagons to ride side by side, without touching each other, and must have seen thousands of wagons and carriages and horses and people using it every day, but now weeds grew thick between the paving and nothing moved before or behind them.
They passed a few shells of carriages, with snapped axles or broken wheels, left abandoned on the side of the road.
None of the soldiers said a word to each other. They kept their spears up, and their eyes on the land around them.
The sky darkened and lightning played overhead, but Liam was sure it wasn't the sign of a coming storm—not that kind of storm anyway.
Kaylyn could feel it too: a heaviness that had settled over the land like the residue of casting, but far greater.
A few gnarled trees and plants, like barbs, broke through the soil, fighting to survive. Gone was the lush countryside that Liam remembered. All that remained were weeds and gray sand with cracks that were wide enough to swallow a horse.
“I can't believe this is what's become of the capital,” Kaylyn said, sadly. “I heard it was bad, but I never thought it would be this bad.”
“It gets worse,” the Officer said. “The taint is so strong, it's corrupted the land. It's corrupted the cursed sky as well.” He looked up and grimaced. “Even if we beat them, it'll take decades, centuries even, to recover, if it ever recovers at all.”
The darkness only grew the further they travelled. The shrill stridulation of insects disappeared altogether. A few carcassas lay on the side of the road, with nothing left to eat them. The air thickened, and Liam had to loosen his collar to breathe properly.
Unlike the first time he rode into the capital, they weren't greeted with a grand vista of the city, just a line of torches that marked the outer wall, with a sea of darkness before and beyond that. The torches, those tiny specks of light like an approaching army, stretched away for miles to either side, and rose as the carriage approached the outer camp, until they reached into the heavens. Liam had to crane his neck to see the top of it.
“They've been building the wall for close on ten years now, M’Lord,” the officer said. “At first, the creatures would only attack at night, but that changed when the darkness started taking over. That wall is the only reason the nightspawn haven't swept through the kingdom already.”
“If only it could keep the darkness back as well,” Liam
said.
The officer grimaced. “I fear, it'll never be tall enough for that.
We sent word ahead to Prince Thomwyn. I expect his Highness would want to see you right away.”
The Prince’s tent was plain, like any other, but it stood taller and was bigger, with a ring of soldiers surrounding it.
They took Liam's weapons and a steward ushered them through.
A dozen men stood crowded around a small table, studying a map. The prince was the youngest man there, but his eyes were hard and he carried himself with authority.
“Kaylyn. Thank Fate. I could hardly believe it when I heard you were but an hour out. Come, let me be the first to welcome you to Norindale.” He threw his arms around her and they embraced for a long time. “I can't believe how you've grown. You're no longer that child getting under my feet in the palace.”
She laughed. “No, I passed that age a few years ago already.” She cupped a hand to his cheek. “You look—tired.” He looked terrible. He couldn't have seen the sun for months. His lips were blue, and blue veins like marble ran beneath his pale skin.
“A ten-year war will do that.” He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. “Come, sit, have something to eat.” He gestured to a servant who gave a bow and disappeared out the tent.
One of the older men there, a man with a face as hard as a rock, took Kaylyn's hands. “My lady, I am Sir Tannon. You are the splitting image of your mother at your age. Her memory is a fond one, and is alive in you.”
Sir Tannon? When Liam was young, bards often came to Brigwell with tales of Sir Tannon, and his exploits. A romantic, he’d travelled into the heart of Khorweth, the barbarian kingdom, to bring back some larking bird feathers for his love. His face, rough and scarred didn't suit his reputation.
“Thank you,” she said.
Prince Thomwyn poured a drink and handed it to her. “I'm afraid it's not the best wine, but it's wet and it numbs your mind which is more than a man can ask for in this place. Now, tell me of your life at the manor.”