by Gin Hollan
He nodded.
“He's contacted me, challenging me to face him. He already has the ability to move the ground. He’s made hills.”
She wasn’t sure why she was telling him everything. Ten years her junior, he was too young for this worry. He should just focus on finding his next career and let her carry on with this crazy task. She couldn’t say it, though. Somehow it felt disrespectful. He was intelligent and capable.
“Don't go,” Kennen shook his head. “He will kill you.”
“I'm not that easy to kill,” she chuckled nervously. “I just want to talk to him, make him see reason.”
“He won't listen. He wants power. You understand humans, right? He's convinced himself he's a messiah, and you are his demon.”
She stopped to consider this line of thought. A false religion could have new concepts introduced to suit whomever was the seat of power, just like any group, club, or government, but with a higher level of fanatical commitment. And this one had decided Arabeth needed to die?
“How many people have sided with him, so far?” she asked.
“Not many, but there is a division growing in the scientific community.”
“Speaking of that, where is the University of Sandorn?”
The blood seemed to drain from Kennen's face as he went pale. “How do you know about that?”
He must mean the automaton, she realized. “I … saw it. Through a lyar. Someone opened a view to them and they were watching the Magician. He talked to me through that.”
“Then he's the one who had them killed,” Kennen said, quietly as though to himself.
“They're dead? I thought maybe one got hurt, but it was all out of my view. A refined type of automaton attacked the two people I was talking with.”
“The magician … that proves it then,” he said, shaking his head. “So sad. Seventeen people were killed before they finally subdued the thing.”
Arabeth suddenly felt nauseous, hoping the bagel stayed down. In the silence, she pondered what the point of making an automaton act like that was, until she realized it was just Howard using his half of a shared ability. Did he know it would go horribly wrong, and use the lyar links to show her something that might make her feel guilty, make her cooperate? Odd thought. Why would she feel guilty over his actions?
“Let's get you to the palace,” he said, reaching out to touch the back of her hand. “King Andun will have up-to-date news about this.”
Arabeth nodded and stood.
“Are things going well for him?”
“Of course, he has the Will of the Heavens guiding him,” Kennen winked. “And two sages fighting for his approval. So say the people.”
// Chapter 12 //
THE CASTLE SAT inside a defensible wall on the north end of the city, and the grounds inside sprawled out at least three acres wide then three more deep. With two sets of ramparts, one at mid-height and another at the highest level, Arabeth could only imagine the wars that would necessitate this kind of design. The yard around it was narrow in front but most of the grounds lay to the side and back, measuring at least a hectare, she estimated.
The castle itself was easily the length of her entire house plus the paddocks behind it, and stood five floors up, with a pair of opposing towers going still higher. If this castle was a reflection of Vensay’s strength and Andun’s power among the others of this world, Vensay was a force to be reckoned with. It was little wonder his Advisor had spent years plotting to gain it for himself. This was quite a castle.
As they approached a short set of double doors to one side, Kennen adopted a more upright posture.
“Since we’re at peace, most of the defences are stood down, but the core remains active,” Kennen said. “This is a secondary gate. You’d draw too much attention at the main one,” Kennen said, stopping. “I'll be your escort in. It’s law that all visitors be accompanied by someone who is known to staff in the bailey area, but you have to pass guards to go into the castle itself.” He waved his arms to indicate the large open grounds held separate but connected to the castle. “As a visiting friar, I’m known well enough for both.”
The east gate was guarded by two men in hardened leather armour, and she spotted signs of at least one more on the mid-wall ramparts above. These ones bore a short sword sitting in a holster strapped to the left hip. The dim light of early morning and poorly lit torches made it hard to make out more detail than that. Maybe that was intentional. You'd hesitate to attack someone when you couldn't properly gauge your chances.
“We’ll need to check your bags, miss.” One of the guards said, pointing first to her satchel, then to the overnight bag she had slung over her back.
She hesitated. Her having the lighter-than-air metal was not something she wanted to become common knowledge.
“I’ll vouch for her. This is Arabeth Barnes. She’s the reason King Andun was able to take his rightful place as king, brought rain to the barren lands, and so on and so forth,” Kennen said.
Arabeth pulled out her Bail Enforcement ID card. It was the only picture ID she had, and even then, they hesitated.
“Come on men, do you really want to get into trouble on this auspicious day?” he scolded. He wasn’t a trained friar, but he understood the impact of shame. “I’m sure you’re busy enough already.”
“Fine, Friar. Just keep an eye on her. It’s your head if anything goes wrong,” the shorter of the two said.
As the guards stepped aside to let them through, Sam came striding toward them, his eyes solidly fixed on Arabeth. His clothes reminded her of the training garb long distance postal runners wore.
“Andun won't be able available for a talk,” he said softly as he wrapped her in a long hug. “Not for a few days. That works for me though. I've missed you and the things of home. It'll be nice to spend time with you, before I get busy again.”
A couple of the guards as the exchanged a look that made Arabeth blush.
“Your guards don’t seem surprised,” she whispered.
“Ah, well, this will help them remember you in the future. You won't need an escort or permission next time.”
“Clever,” she said. “But after the introduction Kennen gave me, I’m sure I’ll be remembered.”
“Let's walk as you tell me why you're suddenly here,” he said, stepping back and taking one of her hands in his. Arabeth felt the heat of contact and blush flooded the rest of her body. Public displays of affection were not common back home. And this would reverse every hint of their ‘break-up’. She felt oddly conflicted about that.
“I need information about Howard - I mean, the Magician. Where he is, what he's doing, why he's decided to challenge me to some kind of duel. Kennen helped me figure the last part out, but I still need to know what I'll be walking in to when I go to discuss a truce.”
Sam shook his head. “As Kennen probably told you, the Magician only wants you dead. You are safe here, but you really should stay home. You're safe behind that mountain. That's why he's baiting you out.”
“Baiting me? First, he says he needs me to take the mountain down, and then he says he can do it himself. Things with him are changing every day and he has to be stopped before this goes any further. He’s killed people and I sincerely doubt it was just to make me take him seriously.”
Kennen gave a disapproving grunt and crossed his arms.
“That should tell you what kind of man he is. Talk will not be an option.”
“He's right, Arabeth,” Kennen added.
“He has the book, but apparently some pages are missing. He's demanding that Andun give him the master copy,” Sam added, “As well as the other editions.”
“There are more? He and Tamden stole it from my workshop, so I thought there was only one copy left! That's what Gregor said,” Arabeth felt relieved. If she could study find the others, she might have a chance to defeat him, if needed. “How many more editions are there?”
“That I don’t know,” Sam said.
�
��No one knows how to replicate them anymore,” Kennen sighed. “It takes a formula to do, ironically.
“His first name is Howard, and he is or was part of something called the Mishyar Alliance. I don't know if it still exists, but it would be helping him, if it does,” Arabeth said. “My impression is that Tamden is trying to revive it.”
“How did you learn this?” Sam asked.
“It was a passing comment I heard while they thought I’d been rendered unconscious.”
“You lost me,” Sam said.
Two more guards stood at the main entrance and both were needed to pull the thick wooden door open. It stood twenty feet tall, to intimidate, she supposed. Seemed like a waste of trees to her. It would be more practical to have a small door that limited how many could come and go at once. That would be a more defensible door as well.
Inside, the entry was a long, wide hall, but the ceilings were only eight feet high. The tall outer door would let people out on two levels, then, she supposed. It didn't make sense.
Sam turned and stopped Kennen. “Thank you for guiding Miss Barnes here. I’ll take her from here.”
Kennen looked like he would protest then shrugged. “I’ll be around, if ordained.” He pulled the corners of his mouth back, resigned, then waved farewell as he turned to go.
A small moment of sadness passed over Arabeth. She would have liked more time to talk with him about life over here, how it had changed, and what challenges she’d be up against, aside from the obvious.
“Alright, where can we talk?” she asked.
“First, Andun had a copy hidden away. He didn’t even let Gregor know.”
“That’s perfect! Where is it?” Arabeth grew antsy, eager to see it.
“I have it tucked away in a safe place.”
?
Arabeth paused as Sam opened the door to his private chambers.
“Relax, it’s not forbidden here for people of opposite genders to keep company without a chaperon in Vensay.”
That wasn’t why she hesitated. The book was inside there. As much as she anticipated it, there was also fear.
“You can trust me, you know,” Sam started.
“It’s not about you. The book… I’m a bit nervous,” she shrugged. “I can't put it in words. Gregor's book opened up a way of thinking that I still don't understand.”
“I don't see what all the fuss is about. It’s really quite dull.”
“You can read it?”
He laughed. “Not a word. It’s there.” Sam pointed at the stack of books on his chair. “I tried the thing you do, where you run a fingertip over the words, but they stayed on the page.”
“This is your version of ‘tucked away’? Are all the pages intact?”
“I think so, why?”
“When I read the other one, those pages went blank and … I'd like to know why. I think there were a couple pages missing, as well.”
The words, the magic, crawled under her skin and made her feel powerful. Why? What caused this phenomenon? They shared the same basic elements in their blood, but Sam hadn't reacted to the crystals the same way she had. Were these differences putting a wedge between them? There were too many questions.
“Abby, relax. Let's go find Melanie.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” He left the room but Arabeth couldn’t move. She needed that book.
Sam walked back in and picked it up. “Just take the thing.” He pushed it into her hands and walked out again.
A shiver ran down Arabeth’s spine as the book hit her skin. Wrapping it in her arms, she hurried out after him. This needed to go into a safe spot, like under her jacket. She chuckled at how silly that sounded and pushed it into her satchel.
// Chapter 13 //
THE CASTLE WAS a bustling hub of activity as staff carried boxes and stacks of items needed to prepare for an apparent gathering of some importance. The evening's festivities still many hours hence. Arabeth smiled politely at anyone who made eye contact but held her curiosity in check.
Sam nearly jogged as he went, ignoring anyone who tried to get his attention. That was fine with her. She was keen on being gone right after talking to Melanie.
At what felt like the opposite end of the castle, they started up a winding staircase going up at least 60 feet to the rooms where Andun's grimshaw sat. The location was more for privacy than any other concern.
“It's at the top,” Sam said, pointing up.
“I’m guessing you’re needed elsewhere.”
He nodded. “Today is the first chance I have to test some new security protocols. I want everyone clear on them.”
“I understand,” she said, a little disappointed.
“You're staying tonight, right?” he asked.
Her heart twinged at the soft tone suddenly in his voice.
“I'm sure you'll be too busy to entertain.”
“Once everyone is in place, I'll have to stay on hand but not under foot. I'll be one of the crowd at that point.”
She didn't say anything at first. “We can talk again after I see Mel.”
“About her … don't let her intimidate you, or rough you up. She's changed in the short time she's been a seer.”
“What did you do?” Arabeth asked, half-teasing.
“Me? Ask anyone – she's unhinged.” He shook his head.
“People seem to toss that label on a lot, lately,” Arabeth said. “She’s a foreigner here, so other people might misunderstand her. You of all people should stick up for her. You’re friends.”
“Not anymore,” he spat.'Oh great,' Arabeth groaned inwardly. She didn't want to get caught in the middle of that again. Maybe she ought to have packed some whiskey for Mel. A little chemical intervention had helped in the past.
“Do you know where I can find a bottle or two of liquor - something not quite as strong as whiskey?” she asked.
He tilted his head a little to one side and frowned.
“I don't want to show up empty handed,” She explained.
“There is an interesting rice-based one. I'll have someone bring a bottle over to you.”
“Thanks Sam.”
She looked around for a spot to wait, thinking over what could have caused a serious falling out between her two closest friends. They were worse than billy goats for butting heads, but it rarely went sour. Minutes ticked away and Arabeth became restless. She'd start up the stairs, slowly.
There were more stairs than she expected, climbing in circles for quite a few minutes. Reaching a door, she stopped, wondering if she should knock, or just walk in.
Calm down, she thought. She's still Melanie, no matter how much Sam says she's changed.
She knocked on a wide, black wood door then pushed it open. She walked in and was immediately struck by the smell. Someone wasn't letting a housemaid in, apparently. Why was the door ajar if the room was off-limits? Probably in an attempt to clear that reek.
She walked to a trash bin, noting how similar this room was to the one Gregor had in Andun's keep. A grimshaw booth, narrow cot in one corner, and a simple but wide table with a padded chair.
Maybe if she set the trash bin outside the door, the air quality in here would improve. She leaned over to pick it up and stopped. The bin was nearly empty, with only a few pieces of paper in the bottom.
What caused that horrific stink? She wrapped one arm around her midsection, wondering if she should wait outside. It smelled like cabbage that had gone bad. Very bad. And then someone hired something evil to make it worse.
What if this smell was intentional … to keep people out?
An odd thought. Arabeth scanned the perimeter, looking for the source. A small green cloth bag sat the darkest corner. A nearby window gave Arabeth an idea. She could hang it out there, drop it out there. She wasn't going to look inside. Melanie could deal with it later. Hesitant to touch it, she pulled out a pair of light gloves she wouldn’t miss and pulled them on.
She drew the long tie-string out, tightening the top of the
bag. The window opened easily and she slid the bag out, hoping not to get attention from the people in the courtyard below. Wrapping the end of the string around the window latch, she pulled the window as closed as it would go, then thought twice. The bag hung down far enough that the smell shouldn't waft in. She opened the window and leaned out to make sure her estimate was correct.
A motion on a rooftop to the side caught her eye. A series of large balloons hovered, but hanging between the two furthest was a long, cloth sign.
“Welcome Empress LaSarn.”
Empress … which nation used that title? She should have listened to the people around them as Sam rushed her through the castle.
“Arabeth!” Melanie's voice sang out from behind her. Her friend hurried to her and grabbed her up in a tight hug.
“Hi Mel,” Arabeth laughed. “It's good to see you.”
“We really need to talk. Come with me,” Melanie walked back to the door.
“Aren't you on shift right now?”
“The grimshaw messages can wait,” Melanie shrugged. “I'm really, really hungry, and the kitchen is too busy to bring us food.”
The dining hall was empty, but Melanie led her into the cold room and started picking out a few slices of cheese and some dried meat. She stuffed them inside a large bun and took a bite. “Take whatever you like,” she mumbled. “They won't care today.”
Arabeth smiled and copied what Melanie took plus a little extra, for her trip. Who do you repay for food out of the King's stores? “Do you think Andun will mind?”
Melanie shook her head to tossed a couple more biscuits in the satchel.
“So, who is this Empress? There seems to be a lot of fanfare being prepared.”
Melanie shrugged. “Rumour says she's a matchmaker of some renown. Andun is against it, but political peace requires an heir. His new council demands he at least look like he's trying.”
“I half wish I was staying. It would be good to see how he's doing.”
Melanie stopped and grabbed one of Arabeth's arms. “You must stay. Howard Enfort is coming, too. He wants to thank you properly for rescuing him from that trap. Can you imagine, going out hiking one day and winding up trapped in time because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? He told me he attacked you by mistake. I know you're scared of him, but I suggested apologizing in person would be the most effective way to handle the situation.”