Pendin stared for a moment before starting to smile slowly. “I’m starting to think that maybe you did have some encounter with the gods.”
“Why is that?”
“The way you’re talking. What you’re essentially saying is that I need to have faith that the mountain won’t erupt.”
Endric shot him a dark glare. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what I was saying.”
“Are you sure? You sound an awful lot like some of the priests I’ve been around. It seems to me that maybe you do have a little more faith these days. Maybe the time on Salvat has been good for you.”
“The time away from me hasn’t been good for you,” Endric said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t challenge me quite so much.” Pendin’s expression clouded, and Endric quickly realized the error of his words. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you didn’t mean,” Pendin said. “And you’re right. Time away from you wasn’t good for me. Having that time was difficult on me. I thought that you had abandoned me.”
“Abandoned? I made certain to get you help. If anything, I had refused to abandon you.”
“It took me a while to come to understand that. For so long, I thought that you bringing me to my mother was your way of getting rid of me. You wouldn’t even tell me what you experienced with the Antrilii, so how else could I have felt?”
Endric sighed. There wasn’t anything that he could share about his experience with the Antrilii. That was a secret with them, and though they had welcomed him, and though he had come to terms with what it meant for him to have a connection to the Antrilii, he was not one of them. Not really.
“There were some things I just couldn’t tell you about,” Endric said. “Unfortunately, that probably won’t be the last time that happens.”
Pendin smiled at him. “I understand that, now. My mother made it quite clear that I was being a little unreasonable with my expectations. She helped me see that there are certain things that you had to do in order for you to become the leader that you’re meant to be.”
Endric looked down at Senda. It was strange having her with him, and having it so that he could see her, but she didn’t—and couldn’t—respond to him. It was torture to not have that connection to her.
“I wish your mother would have spoken to Senda.”
“I’m pretty sure that she did.”
Endric looked over, arching a brow. “She did?”
Pendin nodded. “Senda is the reason that I came to Salvat. She spoke to my mother, suggesting that I might be better off getting away from the city and have a chance to experience a different part of the world.”
“And did it help?”
“I don’t know. I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out why I was in Salvat. After a while, when I finally stopped fighting where I was, I started to listen.” He ducked his head, bringing a hand to his mouth to cover it. “It’s an interesting feeling when you go from being in control to having none. To having everything scheduled on your behalf and essentially being told that you will do as someone else instructs.”
“We both had that in the Denraen.”
“We did, but this was… different. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
Endric thought about his time with the Antrilii. Hadn’t he felt something similar? It wasn’t so much that they were helpless as it was a different sensation. “Powerless,” Endric whispered.
Pendin frowned. “Yes. I suppose that would be how I would describe it. I felt powerless. Even when we are training with the Denraen, there’s the understanding that you are a soldier, that you are fighting on behalf of those who cannot fight for themselves. You have a certain sense of power that I didn’t have.”
“It’s a feeling that I understand,” Endric said.
“You?” Pendin started laughing, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Endric, but I have a hard time envisioning you as powerless in anything. You’ve proven that you are far more than a simple soldier.”
Endric smoothed back her hair. “I’m powerless now.”
Pendin sighed. “I suppose we both are.”
They continued riding but the mountain grew no closer. If anything, it seemed to be still far in the distance. Somehow, Endric needed to find the same teralin-infused pool, somehow find a way to use that water, perhaps charge it and change the polarity, so that he could help Senda. He wasn’t entirely certain how, not yet.
Late in the day, there came an explosion followed by a heavy rumbling. It reminded Endric of thunder or the sound of horses storming across the battlefield, a sound that he had only known a few times, but enough that he looked over, afraid that perhaps that might be what he might see. Endric turned his attention to the mountain, focusing on the peak. Would they see flames signifying an eruption? Could it be that their presence had somehow upset the gods?
He saw nothing.
“Are you still convinced that it isn’t going to erupt?” Pendin asked.
“I’m not convinced of anything. Not anymore.”
“And if we’re trapped here?”
“If we’re trapped, there’s not a whole lot that we can do but continue on.”
“We could reach Elaniin.”
“Maybe, but then Senda wouldn’t.”
Pendin studied his face for a moment before nodding. “I’ll stay with you. If there’s anything that we can do that will help Senda, I’m here with you.”
Endric swallowed. He hadn’t realized how much he missed having Pendin with him. He hadn’t realized how much his friend’s absence had bothered him, but having him back, having him by his side and willing to stay with him, to work together to help Senda, meant so much.
“Where do you think Urik went?” Pendin asked.
“I don’t know. When he took Mage Tresten away, I don’t know where he would’ve brought him. I don’t know what he would’ve wanted him for.”
“And you’re sure that Tresten wasn’t dead?”
Endric sighed. “I’m not sure of anything. Novan seemed to think that we could still help him, though I’m not sure how that’s possible. He seemed dead to me.”
“And if anyone would know what a dead person would look like, it certainly would be Endric.”
Endric glared at him and Pendin began to chuckle.
“I have no idea how he still could live,” Endric said, clearing his throat. “He had to make the journey across the sea, and then however long it would take for Urik to find him help, and then… I don’t know.”
“At least that’s an honest answer,” Pendin said.
“You didn’t think I’d give you an honest answer?”
Pendin shrugged. “I didn’t know. I don’t know exactly what you’ve gone through over the last few months. From what you’ve told me, you have been away long enough that things have changed, and you’re not even sure what those changes mean.”
Endric still wasn’t certain what to make of the fact that he had worked with Urik. He was a man who Endric had spent much time thinking about capturing—and killing. For them to have worked together, to have been willing to try to understand Urik’s perspective and try to understand what had motivated him hadn’t been easy on Endric, but then again, he recognized the need. Urik had knowledge that Endric did not. Urik had experience that Endric did not.
If only he could find him, maybe Urik might have an answer about what might’ve happened to Senda and whatever there might be to help her. For now, Endric was tied to searching for divine intervention, and he was left wondering whether there was anything that he could do that would matter.
As much as he wanted to help her, watching her during the ride, noticing how little she moved, only her chest rising and falling with each breath, left him wondering whether anything could be done. It seemed an impossibility to help her, and maybe that was the point.
Maybe it was an impossibility. It would require his faith, however weak that might be. It would require his willingness to believe that there was something he could do, though he still w
asn’t certain that there was. And it would require luck, and—if he were honest with himself—perhaps divine intervention, as he had suggested to Pendin.
Thunder rumbled again, this time louder, carrying with it a steady shaking of the earth. The horses jerked, attempting to buck, but Endric pulled on the reins, studying his mount before it could dislodge Senda from the saddle.
He glanced over to Pendin, who gripped his reins just as tightly as he had been, squeezing them so that the horse didn’t throw him. Endric flashed a smile that Pendin didn’t return.
“You can relax,” Endric said. “From what I understand from the waitress I met in Joyner, the mountain has rumbled like this for a long time but hasn’t erupted.”
“Yet. It hasn’t erupted yet. What happens if—”
A massive explosion thundered in the distance. Endric looked over. Flames poured from the peak of the mountain. Smoke and haze swirled around it, quickly obfuscating it, hiding whatever evidence of the explosion there might be.
“Yet,” Endric agreed.
“What do we do now?” Pendin asked.
“Now we hurry.”
There came another explosion, this one more tightly controlled, but the ground rumbled more than it had before. Both of them glanced over at the mountaintop, but the haze obscured their ability to see anything. Pendin stared, his jaw clenched, his hands white-knuckled, and even his breathing seemed tense: short and shallow.
“Pendin, you need to relax.”
“I don’t think that I can,” he said.
“If you can’t, it’s going to make for a long day.”
“It’s already been a long day.”
“You don’t need to suffer like this.”
Pendin looked over at Endric before his gaze drifted down to Senda, who remained strapped over the saddle. “I’m not suffering. She is.”
There was something in the way that he said it that struck a chord within Endric. There was sadness mixed with anguish. He understood the feeling, as it was the same emotion that he had felt when he tried to help Senda and had failed, but for Pendin to have that same anguish, Endric wasn’t entirely certain why unless…
“You care for her.”
“She’s my friend, Endric.”
Endric stared at Pendin, studying the tightness to his jaw and the stiffness to his spine. Pendin wasn’t afraid of anything other than his family. He wouldn’t be afraid of the mountain erupting. What he was afraid of was something happening to Senda, someone who he clearly cared about more than he let on.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Suddenly, Pendin’s agitation around Endric and Senda once he had returned from the Antrilii lands began to make sense. He had thought that Pendin had been slipping into drink during his absence, and had only later come to realize that he had been doing so far longer than Endric had realized. Had it begun when Endric and Senda had started having a relationship? Could it have been that long ago?
“Endric—”
Endric slowed his horse. “I can see it on your face. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Pendin stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. “Would it have mattered? She chose you.”
“You never showed any interest in her.”
Pendin snorted. “How could I? She always had eyes for you. Ever since we met, she had that affection for you. And I can’t even blame her. I understand your appeal. Hell, I’m drawn to you. That’s what you do. You draw others to you, despite some of the things that you’ve done over the years.”
“That’s why you came to Salvat. You wanted to get away from her.”
“No. I came to Salvat because she suggested it to my mother.”
“So you came. For no other reason than because Senda wanted that of you.”
“She was my commanding officer.”
“So was I, but that didn’t mean that you followed without question.”
Pendin grunted. “No. I suppose not.” He looked over at Senda for a long moment before pulling his gaze up to Endric. “What now?”
“Now we do what we can to help her.”
“You’re not mad?”
“How could I be mad? I understand your feelings all too well.”
“But she’s your—”
Endric started laughing. “If Senda wakes up, don’t ever let her hear you calling her my anything. You’ll be likely to end up with a staff to the side of your head if you do.”
Pendin smiled and nodded slowly. “I will help you with her,” he said. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get her the help that she needs. If it’s this divine intervention, then I will help you see that the gods smile at her. If it’s something else, I’ll be there with you.”
“I know that you will,” Endric said.
Thunder rumbled, and the ground began shaking again. He couldn’t see whether the mountain in the distance erupted or if a fire spewed from the top, but the increase in tremors had his heart speeding and he flashed a smile at Pendin. “I think we need to hurry or else neither of us will get to reveal our feelings to Senda.”
Pendin’s face paled. “I have no intention of sharing my feelings.”
“You don’t think that she already knows?”
“Gods, I hope not.”
Knowing Senda, Endric thought it likely that she did already know, and it was equally likely that she had chosen not to say anything out of a desire not to upset their friend. Because of that, Endric wouldn’t push.
When another tremor came, this one with more force, Endric patted his horse, signaling his mount to speed along. With each passing moment, he became less and less certain that they would reach the teralin-infused pool before something happened. And if they didn’t—if the mountain exploded—where could they go?
They had to have faith that it wouldn’t, and they had to have faith that they wouldn’t explode, though faith was not something Endric had in abundance.
16
Night settled around him, and Endric rested with Senda lying nearby. He had grown accustomed to the stench of her body, the rotting stink that apparently meant that her insides were decaying, but he still noticed it, despite the fact that he might be used to it. An occasional glimmer of moonlight popped out from behind the haze and the clouds, giving a slight sheen to her face. Otherwise, it was almost perfectly dark.
But not silent.
There came the occasional rumble, the steady tremoring of the ground that created a loud and distinct thunder, but there was never any rain, not the way there had been when he and Senda had first arrived on Salvat. He heard the occasional cawing of birds, a sound that jarred him from his light slumber, mostly because it seemed so out of place for this barren expanse of land. Occasionally, he noted the sound of scraping across rock, and though he saw nothing in the night, he continued to look up, afraid that they might be attacked at any point.
He passed the night in that way, barely sleeping, able to catch only moments of rest before he jerked back awake. When morning came, it was a relief more than anything. He sat up, looking at the growing daylight. The sky seemed clearer than it had been, though clouds still smeared across it. There wasn’t quite as much of a haze to the sky as there had been, and he wondered if perhaps they might catch the sun, though if they did, would it make a difference? Endric didn’t need the sunlight to guide his way and only needed to have the horse continue to lead them.
When Pendin awoke, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and spent a moment staring at Senda. His nose wrinkled as he took a deep breath. “How much longer do you think we’ll have to ride today?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible that we can reach the pool today.”
“And if we don’t?”
Endric turned his attention to Senda. Her breathing had become more irregular over the last day or so, enough so that he wasn’t certain how much longer she might have. How long could she last in this shape?
“Let’s try to have faith that we will.”
“There you go again. Talking abo
ut faith. You’re nothing like the Endric I remember.”
“I’m the same Endric. It’s just that I have come to understand that there are a great many things I can’t explain.”
After attending to the horses, they strapped Senda to Endric’s saddle, managing to secure her once more. The bands cut into her arms, leaving indentations in her flesh. Her skin seemed to be weeping more than it had been before, and he tried not to think about what that meant, though he knew that her time was limited. Even if she managed to breathe regularly once more, it was possible that there might not be anything they could do to save her.
They started across the land, riding quickly. Endric lost track of time; with the clouds and the haze, he found it difficult to keep a steady sense of how long they had been traveling. It could have been hours, but without having some way of watching the sun change positions in the sky, he had no idea how long they actually had been moving.
For his part, Pendin seemed content to remain silent. It was more than simply an interest in solitude, it was that he focused his gaze in front of them, being intentional about not looking over at Endric or Senda. It made gauging his mood more difficult. Was he angry? Even if he were, there wasn’t much that Endric could do that would help ease his mind. What Pendin needed—what they both needed—was to finish this task.
And when it was done, what then?
Then he would be back to pursuing Urik and discovering what had happened with Tresten. Endric couldn’t return to the Denraen until he knew what had happened to the Mage. He didn’t feel comfortable returning until he had those answers, but more than that, he didn’t want to leave Urik wandering. The man had a penance to pay for everything that he had done, and Endric wasn’t interested in leaving him.
Throughout the day, there came the steady rumbling of thunder. It had not changed in intensity, but the consistency to it was enough that it troubled Endric. At what point would there be something more? At what point would the volcano erupt? They had already seen fire and ash spewing from the top, but there had been nothing more. If it came, would they be in danger? He didn’t see how it was possible that they wouldn’t be.
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