by Gin Hollan
"When did you eat last?" he asked, opening his backpack.
She shook her head. "Andun's collar bone is fractured and he’s going to have a handsome scar on one arm. Other than that, he's fine."
"I'm talking about you," he said, handing her an apple.
She sighed. She didn't like talking about herself, but he'd guess anyway. "I can't move. Between the storm, the Lyar, and the workout from Sebastian yesterday, I'm drained." She couldn't even summon the will to pull the stones and break the connection. She changed the subject. "How are you? Don't lie to me. The rope burn on your wrists and bruises on your face mean you have bruises elsewhere too. You should have the medic check for broken skin and the like."
"Not until we get you fed. You look weak as a kitten. Where are you?"
"Back near the tunnel."
"Can you pull the stones and stay on this side? Probably not, I guess." He took one of her hands in his. "Pull me through to your side. Andun will be fine and Mel will contact us when things settle down."
"I need to see this through."
"You've taken more than your share of responsibility. Don't let that narcissist get to you. It's time to let someone else look after you for a while."
Arabeth stood and walked over to Andun.
"It looks as though you'll be okay, your highness," she said.
"Things must be serious if you're calling me that."
"No, but things have changed."
"Not too much, I hope. You'll be back to visit?" he asked.
Arabeth smiled, nodding. "I'd like that."
"Long live the king," Sam said, patting Andun on the arm.
A man walked in wearing a guard’s uniform and saluted Andun. "Your Majesty, we have the people in question locked up, but they want lawyers."
"Let them try. I can't imagine a lawyer on this planet that will touch that case." Arabeth chuckled.
"Right, let them try." Andun smiled.
"There's always one that wants their name in newsprint." Sam shrugged.
"Oh, right—guess what job I've given our Seers?" Andun was smirking.
Arabeth shook her head. "Seer?"
He laughed. "You'll see when you leave. I think it's the perfect stop-gap until Sam gets back."
"I'll take that as my cue." Arabeth smiled. "Take it easy while we're gone, kid. I know you'll make your parents proud."
"Three months?" Andun looked at Sam.
"I need to do some research, but three months should be plenty."
As they walked out, Sam took Arabeth's hand, smiling. "Why are we walking? Just pull the stones."
"Oh, right." Arabeth blushed and walked to the spot where the crystals hovered. As the castle dissolved and her mind came back to the copse, her weariness doubled and she sank to the ground with a sigh. "It's been a long month, you know."
"A long month," Sam echoed.
Arabeth lay on the ground, putting her head on her satchel. "I could sleep for another month."
"Let's get you home first; then we can talk about other things. You can sleep until your next birthday, if you want."
Arabeth rolled over and looked at him sitting nearby. "Birthday?"
"Happy birthday, Arabeth. The day snuck up on us, didn't it?"
"Wait, that means we missed yours too. Yours is three weeks before mine."
"No, that was the day you accepted my proposal. I think that counts as a gift."
"But I didn't remember."
"I think we were a little distracted."
Arabeth nodded and closed her eyes. "Just a short rest, then we should get going."
"A short rest," he agreed.
When she opened her eyes next, she couldn't tell if it was sunrise or sunset. Looking at Sam, she guessed it must be sunrise. He was sprawled out over a thin blanket and she was wearing his jacket. That meant she'd slept at least twelve hours. How soon after they got home would he be coming back? Maybe he should stay. She'd be fine going home on her own. Standing, she looked over at Davin.
Sam would find his way. This was for the best.
As she checked the saddlebags for the third time, she heard him rouse. She couldn't look at him, knowing her plan was to leave him behind again. Not again.
Sam walked up beside her and checked Davin's cinch.
"Did you sleep?" he asked.
"Well enough. With that kind of exhaustion, I could have slept on broken glass," she said.
"You said this place is near the gypsy town. Let's see if they sell breakfast before we find Maralise's route. Did she give any hints?"
"No, but Melanie is trying to find out for me."
Sam took one of Arabeth’s arms and turned her to face him. "For us. Is that so hard to say? She's looking for us."
Arabeth felt her face heat up from the shame of it. She should love him enough to want to stay with him. Instead, she kept leaving him behind. Until now she’d said it was for his safety, but this time she was headed home. There was a lot of work to do there, but it wasn't dangerous. Why leave him this time? Was it just a bad habit?
"For us." That made her face flame hotter and she reached up to cover the tips of her ears.
Sam chuckled. "I know I'm only back for a short time. Long enough to see you settled."
"Then you're gone again." She nodded.
"But only for another short time."
"You don't know that. Things happen. What if there is a revolution, like Sebastian was trying to start?"
"I won't leave you, or betray you. I stayed faithful to you, even when you were a married woman. Who does that?" Sam said.
Arabeth looked up into his eyes and didn't see regret, or anger, or any of the things she thought meant she owed him this. She only saw affection. Love. Smiling, she raised her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. "I suppose you're right. If you stay, and start Andun’s police force now, you'll be back sooner, right?"
"My plants are probably all dead by now, but I need to go home for a couple reasons." His arms rested around her waist, but there was no demand. Just comfort.
"You don't sleep well outside your own home."
"Unless I'm on your chesterfield. You must have a calming herb rubbed into it once a week."
Arabeth laughed lightly. They both knew that wasn't it. "I need to return the pistol."
"And see if they sell breakfast. A nice, hot plate of pancakes, eggs, maybe a bit of bacon.... That would really hit the spot." Sam's stomach growled at the thought. He stepped back and took one of her hands. "Is there a path where Davin can get out?"
"This way." She pointed to the narrow gap she'd found the day before. Reaching down, she put Marble on the saddle. Was the fox lazy, or just used to being packed everywhere? Arabeth scratched behind Marble's ears a moment and was suddenly very keen on getting life back to their kind of civilization.
// Epilogue //
ARABETH KNOCKED on her father's door before letting herself into the massive space he called his study. There were a few things she needed to tell him, not the least of which was regarding Maralise's part in the events in Vensay. He was the regional chancellor and thus needed to know, but somehow it still felt like tattling.
Graham was a traitor to the crown now, which meant if he left Blastborn his own country would turn him over. Relations between the two countries had never been stronger and everyone wanted to please the new king of Vensay. Arabeth had to hope Clare got him out via shuttle.
Sam had been with Sebastian's people, but as a prisoner. When he was freed, he began the long process of designing a country-wide policing and prison system for Andun, although he admitted he'd need plenty of consultation with foreign countries on how they managed a system that ranged hundreds of kilometres. He returned to Blastborn long enough to get ideas from Police Chief Harbertrope and see to it that Arabeth's parents knew she was engaged.
Melanie and Gregor were back to work as Seers. That would help everyone, Arabeth knew, but how would she explain that to her father? It was akin to witchcraft, by the loc
al way of thinking, where even tinkering was almost taboo. Ah well, the crystal fields would be restored, with an immediate cease to the yearly plowing under that kept them from growing. Arabeth would use that time to start her own field and plant the seeds of knowledge at the same time.
Melanie had contacted her earlier in the day—the Lyars had stopped working. No one knew why. The fires couldn’t be extinguished with water or dirt. Not until this rain. They still drew her, though. Even with the fire out, she felt drawn back.
Andun's rule seemed secure. Letters had started pouring in from every country on the continent, congratulating him and making arrangements for official visits. Andun had asked Arabeth to stay as a tinker, offering her a workshop and unlimited resources. He wanted to find other uses for the crystals. Arabeth promised to share what she learnt while working on the same puzzle back home in her own workshop. It was enough to know that peace had been restored to the continent. For as long as it lasted, Arabeth vowed to mind her own business. Adventure turned out to be different than she'd imagined while reading novels and listening to her grandfather.
She would have to figure out a way to tell this story, she realized. It was a good thing the ride home would take a couple weeks. She was no wordsmith. She pulled a crystal out of her pocket. One of the orange ones. Somehow, she felt more solid with it in her hand. The stones’ pull on her hadn't diminished, she knew. Her pack had three of each shade. She wanted to see if they'd grow on the other side of the mountain, in their rich, agricultural soils. That was her kind of adventure.
'I just have one request.' Melanie's voice came into Arabeth’s mind through the crystal. 'Be careful with that book.'
Unable to part with it, Arabeth kept it tucked in her satchel and never spoke about it. She'd find the language it was written in and figure out how it worked. Magic. Not a word she dared use out loud, either here or at home. Maybe the book had a name for itself. She'd find out.
She sat down, wondering where to start. "How are you, Father?"
"As well as can be expected when one daughter returns a hero, and the other is captured as a traitor. The paperwork involved is many and varied. Your mother has gone to stay with Betsy's parents, for her nerves."
Arabeth nodded. "I thought she might." It wasn't nerves—it was pride.
"You have a report for me?"
"I'll write something out. I wanted to see how you were holding up and share my personal news," Arabeth said.
"Oh?"
Just then, Sam walked in and bowed. "Good afternoon, sir."
"Come in. You're just in time. Arabeth has news," Eldon said.
"We share the news, sir. I'm happy to report that she has accepted my offer," Sam said.
"Ah, and I gave you my blessing, what ... eight years ago? Are we going to wait that long again for grandchildren?" Her father's sudden thaw caught her by surprise. He'd never been an affectionate father, but he had his moments. His care was never in doubt. Still, this was almost out of character. He needed grandsons, apparently.
"Yes, sir. I'm afraid the delay is entirely my fault. I'm heading back to Vensay. Please keep an eye on her for me while I'm gone."
Eldon chuckled. "Of course, of course. She should move back here, anyway, with her mother being gone, and sister ... well, you know."
"I am not moving home, and quit talking about me like I'm not here." Arabeth stood up, pretending irritation.
"There's my girl," her father said. "Don't you dare go all domestic on me. It never suited you."
"Don't worry, Father. We haven't set a date. Sam is going to be very busy for the next six months to a year, out of country."
"Don't take too long, son. You two deserve some happiness, even if you hadn't become the most famous people our city has ever known."
Sam's ears went red and he nodded.
There was one last thing Arabeth needed sorted before she went home. "Father, I'm confused. Why did Graham say all of Blastborn was under attack and that a third of the city had been destroyed? I see no evidence of it."
"He said what? I can't be sure why he'd say that."
Arabeth and Sam exchanged a look. Mind tampering. Sam had suggested it with Andun, when he thought he was a fake. He'd have to learn how Sebastian did it, so they could come up with a detection method.
Eldon stood up and walked them to the door. "I'm glad you're back, safe and sound." He smiled, patting Arabeth on the shoulder. "Come for dinner sometime. It gets dull around here when your mother is away."
Arabeth made a pained face. Her mother should run a drama company, not a spy guild. To be associated with her theatrics was distasteful at best.
"You know what I mean." He chuckled.
"Yes, Father." He wanted to hear the story. All of it. She cringed. Magic. That would re-define how he thought the world worked. It had for her.
It wasn’t magic, per se … but it raised a question she had to answer: How did it work, really? The book was paper and embedded circuits … and needed silver to operate. Who had made the book, why, and how? Were there more like it?
She gave a half smile. “I’ll drop by later, Father.”
“With Sam. I want the whole story.”
She nodded. Even Sam didn’t know what she knew.
// Author's Notes //
Thank you so much for reading Book 2 in my Arabeth Barnes series! I like to think of storytelling as community thing—without readers, I'm just talking to myself and I already do more than enough of that. (Part of the reason I have a dog is so people think I'm talking to her. My dog does too, so I call that a win.)
If you find something in the book that needs addressing, like a moment that caused confusion or threw you out of the story, or fact problems, I'd love to hear about it so I can make corrections for future editions. I'd also like to know if you think the title or cover are all wrong for the story. But I'm not only looking for bad news—what parts did you enjoy most? Are there minor characters you'd like to see more of?
If you want to know when the next story will be out, or when I give stuff away, please let me know you're interested here: http://eepurl.com/biB8zb.
I hope you’re looking forward to Book 3, when Blastborn and Vensay each find that history loves to repeat itself, and solutions that worked in the past no longer apply.
The Martyr’s Deception
By Gin Hollan
Dedicated to my friends and family ;-)
and
the stalwart souls still with me—you're amazing!
All rights reserved. Except where permitted by law, this book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without the express written permission of the author.
© 2020 Gin Hollan
// Chapter 1 //
ARABETH BARNES stared at the soft brown leather-bound Sages' book she’d been given in the country of Vensay. The formulae inside it travelled into the reader’s blood, and those formulae were activated by will from within the bearer’s mind, giving their use the illusion of magic.
Considering her current location, she’d built things to make it look like a device was activated, causing the outcome. Otherwise, she might be outed as a witch, true or not.
But those formulae… they would be another matter. The few known users, called Sages, were executed for their part in the last great war. That she instinctively knew how to use them was troubling, and their draw on her, pulling at her like an itch in the mind that she couldn’t reach, was distracting.
If that wasn’t enough, there was the subtle promise that the book held the truth to why the people of Blastborn had been locked between a mountain range and the ocean for the past 200 years.
“Not now,” she muttered, pushing back a length of short messy brown hair. She sighed and tried to push the book out of her mind.
Physical, tangible things - that’s what she preferred. Tingly, mobile patterns of energy and liquid metal that shimmered just under the skin sat outside her comfort zone. Luckily, with her carrying a device or showing off
a shiny crystal in a contraption, there would be no questions. They would schedule no burnings, not that Blastborn did that sort of thing. It was… uncivilized.
She closed her eyes and rubbed them. She had still been staring at the book.
“If you don’t want the cookie, get out of the kitchen,” she said. She turned to look for Marble, her pet fox of seven years. The little fox was still a little pudgy from her recent litter of two kits. No more riding on Arabeth’s shoulder - at least not for a while.
As Arabeth locked the door behind her, she tried not to look at Marble. She’d set up a warm, fox-proof box in the workshop so she could keep an ear out for the kits. Marble needed to stay with them. The room wouldn’t be a hazard until they were bigger and running around, but Marble wouldn’t want to leave them on their own for quite some time.
The blacksmith’s shop would be open soon. Arabeth picked up her pace, wanting to reach the south end of the city before there were a lot of people up and about. This new project required discretion, and while the blacksmith was a curious fellow, he wouldn’t pry too deeply. Really, she should have a forge built in her large workshop, but it was crowded enough. She was early but pushed the door and smiled. Open. Perfect timing, then.
“Ben, I’m going to my usual spot,” she called out to the smithy owner. As she pointed to a forge in the far corner, she chuckled. It stood stocked, heated, and ready.
Coming out to a semi-public smithy served a dual purpose. She wanted as many people on her side as possible when it came time to vote on the gadgeteering ban. She wasn’t about to let curmudgeons or the ones already in power determine the fate of the region. Change scared them, but survival depended on change.