The Allseer Trilogy
Page 33
“Stop. It’s too late for that now. Please, just-” Tomias was cut off by a surge from the crowd, their voices rising as a tall, willowy man stepped up onto the platform. He wore all black, his robes torn and billowing about him like smoke. His face was obscured by a black mask that came to a curved point over his nose, giving him the appearance of a raven coming to bring death on obsidian wings. His mouth was uncovered, his rotted teeth greeted them as he turned towards the crowd.
From his robe he produced a pouch and lifted it above his head with a wild cackle. The crowd went wild. Their cheers rose, filling the square with an overwhelming amount of noise. It rose like the wails of some great beast, the noise reverberating off the surrounding buildings. The Raven spun on his heels, his skeletal fingers clawing open the pouch. From it he drew a handful of red powder, bright and vibrant as fire. He whirled towards Tomias, the fabric of his robes swirling like hundreds of wings. With quick, eager steps he approached Tomias and flung a fistful of the red powder at the brittle branches piled beneath his feet.
Kirheen sucked in a breath, her heart pounding. She watched wide-eyed and apprehensive, fully expecting the branches to burst into flame. Her breath escaped her as the Raven stepped away. No fire. No death. But it would happen soon. She could feel it in the energy of the crowd. Death was coming for them, fire and red powder, their souls snatched away to the stars.
The Raven stepped down the line, dusting the four of them with the strange powder. When he reached the end of the platform, he traded the pouch for a torch. Kirheen never thought of fire as something to fear. It had always been something that brought warmth and light and comfort. Looking at it now, it seemed a great demon perched atop the wood, twisting and smirking with glee. The Raven cackled once more and hunched over. He crouched low and slid towards his first victim, the mother of the young boy to her left. The boy thrashed wildly, his whimpers rising into a scream. “No! Leave her alone! She doesn’t even have powers. Stop, please!”
The Raven raised his eyes, meeting the pleading gaze of the young boy. The torch was half lowered towards the feet of his mother. There was a moment of peace for the child, a moment of blind, hopeless naivety that good would win, that his pleading could change an old, calloused heart. The Raven smiled. “All praise the night warden, keeper of souls. Zekar, please accept this star, stolen from your sky by the traitor whom these poor souls worship.”
Kirheen squeezed her eyes shut as the torch descended. She wanted nothing more than to cover her ears, to drown out the terrible cry from child and mother alike, the crackling of wood and popping of powder. She wanted to cover her mouth, to keep the smell of charred flesh and wood smoke at bay. Instead thick drifts of smoke billowed over her, coating her skin and hair with ash. And the screams…
“Kirheen, KIRHEEN! Look at me, please! Just look at me.”
And how could she deny him that? She looked into the eyes of the man she’d hurt so much. Her existence had brought him nothing but pain. He’d lost his twin because of her. He’d lost his home and his way of life and now he’d be forced to watch her burn at the stake. Maybe he’d enjoy it - to watch an end to his suffering. Tears stung her eyes as she stared into his. “Why did you come with me? Why? You would have been safe. You wouldn’t be here if you’d just stayed.”
His gaze never wandered from hers. He held her captive with his cinnamon eyes, eyes that swirled with grief and pain, reflecting the flames that would soon engulf her. The Raven approached and the heat of the flames washed over her as he crept closer. And yet she didn’t turn away from Tomias. She couldn’t. When he spoke, it was with such softness, as if his words were the only truth left in his crumbling world. And then the torched lowered and his words were consumed by flames.
CHAPTER 1
“I can’t believe you’re serious about this,” Garild scoffed, arms folded across his chest. The puckered, pink stump at the end of his wrist looked vivid and angry against the darkened folds of his shirt. “I don’t understand you. Why is it so hard to stay here? Why is it so hard for you to stay where you’re safe?”
Kirheen rubbed at her temples. She was too tired and aggravated to be discussing her decisions with him. She’d wanted to let him know of her plans, to let it sink in that she was leaving. Instead, it had blown up in her face, becoming an argument he wasn’t about to let her win. “You really think we’re any safer here? Just because Therin and the others have stayed out of sight all these years doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. I know that. They know that. And yes, thank you, I am serious about this. I can’t stay here, Garild! What am I supposed to do? Do you want me to just sit around and do research and drown myself in books like you do? It seems to be doing you a great deal of good with that attitude.”
Garild frowned. “You can stay here, and you should. We’re absolutely safer here than we would be near Val’shar. You’d have to be an idiot to not understand that. We’ve got problems here, of course, but we have a lot less to deal with this far north. We don’t have Seekers and mass beheadings, nooses at every turn and a lunatic royal family fanning the flames. People are scared and frightened here. They don’t understand what we are. They are jumpy but we can avoid them easily enough.”
“Why don’t you tell the girl they beat to death how easy it is to avoid them,” she snapped. “I’m sure she’d love to hear how safe it is for our kind here.” They were unkind words, but they spilled out all the same. She couldn’t help it. Her frustrations with Garild had been building, brewing beneath the surface. Ever since the loss of his hand and the fall of Sanctuary, he’d been a brooding mess. Most days he spent with his nose in a book, researching the new and dangerous world they’d been dumped into. He avoided people as if they all bore the plague and he spent the most effort avoiding Kirheen. She’d tried to talk to him about everything, to figure out what ate at him, but he responded with harsh words, berating her until she was forced to give up. It was always the same.
He had a lot to be upset about. His world had changed overnight. He’d lost his hand, his bond, and his way of life all in the blink of an eye and what he had been left with was a well of emotions he hadn’t even started to process. Instead, he chose to sulk and seethe, baring his teeth at anyone that wished to help him. And his anger- that he saved for Kirheen.
“Nothing like that has happened in months. They got their blood. Things will calm down now.”
“Is it really so easy for you to brush that off? As long as they get to hang someone every now and then, it makes what happened okay? That’s crazy. We’re still prisoners whether you like it or not. We’re still living in fear, still hiding. Now we just have something real to fear and it’s whether or not your neighbor is going to behead you for being different!”
“You’re just trying to run away. Val’shar is just an excuse,” he growled. “That seems to be how you like to handle things - just turn your back and flee from your guilt and see how far that takes you.”
“Enough,” Kirheen hissed, an edge of warning in her voice. He’d gone too far, prodded too deep at wounds that had yet to heal. She stood, letting herself rise to her full height. Her nails dug painfully into her palms as she tried to contain her tumultuous emotions.
“Or what, Kirheen? Are you going to hurt me? You’ve already done enough damage.”
“You know I didn’t run away. I found help and I came back to save my friends.”
“You did it without me,” he shouted. “You did a piss poor job too. And now you’re going off to Val’shar to rock the boat more. Why can’t you just leave things alone? Why can’t you just keep your nose out of things? Every time you get involved, people get hurt.”
Kirheen recoiled from the words as if Garild had splashed a bucket of acid at her feet. “That isn’t fair. It isn’t fair at all and you know it. Stop trying to make me the enemy. I did the best I could. I never meant-”
Garild cut her off with a wave of his arm, making sure she could see where he lacked a hand. “No, of course not. You never
meant for any of it and so it’s all just forgiven. It all just goes away. It doesn’t bring back my hand and it doesn’t bring back Fenir or Ian. And neither will you running off.”
His words punched through her, tearing through muscle and bone and crushing her heart beneath their weight. She swallowed hard but the lump in her throat refused to be dislodged. She met his gaze, looked into eyes that now seemed so unfamiliar, so unforgiving. They had held warmth in the not-so-distant past, but now it was gone, drowned beneath a flood of bitter anger.
Kirheen collected the shambles of her heart, rearranged her features and spoke the words she’d come to say to begin with. “I leave for Val’shar in three days. Goodbye, Garild. Take care of yourself.” She spun on her heels, bolting for the door before he could reply. She slammed it shut with more force than she’d intended, startling the chickens crowded in front of the porch. They scattered in all directions, flinging feathers as they went.
Something heavy was tossed across the room she’d just fled. There was a crash of glass, a muttered curse and then silence. Kirheen was shaking, anger and fear and guilt all fighting for control of her heart. She was bleeding from a thousand internal cuts and there was no staunching the blood loss. It was hard not to let his words get to her, hard not to second guess her decision. It was so easy to believe she was to blame for everything, too easy to fall into that endless pit of self-doubt.
She’d done everything she could do. She couldn’t have foreseen the consequences of her actions, couldn’t have known that it would end in people being hurt, in people dying. It was something that weighed on her soul every day. It disrupted her sleep, echoed through her dreams, and haunted her every waking moment. Leaving would never make that go away and she didn’t want it to. Such pain was the price of change and she would never forget that or the people that had died along the way.
A hand gripped her elbow, pulling her away from her thoughts. She whirled, fully expecting to come face to face with Garild. Instead, it was Tomias who recoiled from her anger, his brown eyes wide with surprise. Kirheen let out an unsteady breath and gave Tomias a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
“For the sake of the person you’re mad at, I’m glad it was me and not them. That look would have made a lesser man croak,” Tomias teased, but his smile faded as he took in her expression, the grief twisting her features. He stepped forward and pulled her close. Kirheen relaxed and wrapped her arms around him tightly. She buried herself against his chest, letting him block out the light and the thoughts swirling through her head. He smelled of hay and dirt and a scent all his own and it brought comfort, a sense of peace and warmth that Garild had seen fit to break beneath his icy wrath.
Tomias rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. “That didn’t go well, did it?”
“About as well as expected,” she groaned, her voice muffled. “Actually, it was worse.”
“He’ll come around, Kir. Just give him time.”
“That’s what people keep telling me, but it doesn’t seem to be helping,” she sighed, pulling away from his embrace with some effort. “Come on. I need to get away from here. I need to walk.”
They cut through the field behind the house, climbing the gentle rise of a hill. Tall grasses swayed, glowing golden in the light of the sun. Flowers bled color into the surrounding hills, nourished by the heavy rains of prior months. It should have brought a feeling of peace, but it only reminded Kirheen of her own somber mood that only clashed with the beauty of the landscape.
“He thinks I’m running away,” she said. “He thinks I’m trying to forget what happened, what I was responsible for.”
Tomias stood at her side, his eyes glowing as he surveyed the distant hills. His hair was pulled back in a high tail, a few wispy strands of white hair fluttering in the breeze. He’d grown a beard over the past few months. It made him look older, rugged, a sign of the hardships he’d endured. Kirheen suspected it was his way of hiding from his own reflection, a way of not seeing his brother every time he looked in a mirror. The loss of Fenir haunted them all; a ghost clinging to their shoulders, a burden that would never go away.
“But you know better. You did everything you could.”
“I know,” she said. “I know that! It just doesn’t make me feel less guilty. I’m still responsible for their feelings and their hurt. It’s my burden and it’ll follow me no matter where I go. It isn’t something I can just run from.”
Tomias gave her a sideways glance, his mouth forming a tight line. “You know I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you for what happened, and I never will.”
Kirheen shook her head. “If I hadn’t…” she inhaled sharply, trying to keep her voice level. “Tomias, I think you should stay here. You shouldn’t follow me. It’s foolish to go to Val’shar, we both know that, but I can’t stay away. I need to see it for myself. I just - I can’t be responsible for you. If something happened…”
He turned towards her slowly, arms crossed over his chest. His lips sagged into a disapproving frown, his brow furrowed. Irritation oozed from his body language, his eyes bright with emotion. “Kir, that’s enough. You’re letting his words get to you. I’m not tagging along so you can take care of me. I’m not coming with you to guilt you or stand in your way or hold you back. I’m coming because I’m your friend and I’ll be damned if I let you take that journey alone. I’m coming because I care. Don’t make that decision for me. You don’t want me to come with you for some reason other than guilt, by all means, get it out while we’re both standing here, but don’t you dare take away my choice because you’re afraid of what might happen.”
And there it was, the truth she’d been avoiding. She was afraid; afraid of her feelings and afraid of her guilt, afraid of the world around her that was still so new and dangerous. Her lack of knowledge scared her, her lack of power even more so. Her battle against Nyson had humbled her, had shown her how little she was prepared to deal with the new world around her.
She was pushing him away because the thought of losing anyone else scared her. The pain she’d felt at losing Ian and Fenir was something she never wanted to feel again. If anything were to happen to Tomias, that pain would be even greater. Despite it all, she needed his support. She couldn’t go to the city alone, didn’t want to. “I’m sorry, Tomias,” she sighed, turning towards him. She raised her head slowly, eyes marking a trail from his crossed arms, to the lines of his neck, over the curve of his lips and the point of his nose until she met his gaze. She saw fear there, fear of the words that would follow. “I want you to go with me. I… I can’t do this alone. Please.”
His shoulders slumped, his arms dropping to his sides. He let out a great, billowing sigh and a shaky chuckle escaped him. “I was worried you’d found another reason.”
Kirheen smiled. “Oh, I’ve got plenty, trust me. You’re just lucky I’ve forgotten them. I’ll remember soon enough.”
“It’ll be a shame when you do,” he grinned. He turned back towards the village and beckoned for her to follow. She trailed after him, her hands running along the tops of the tall grass. Three days would mark the beginning of a new journey. She was both excited and terrified of what lie ahead. So much of her life had been spent in the dark, locked away in a prison of glowing trees, with no sense of what was beyond. Now she had a chance to explore, a chance to see the world for herself, to learn more about her powers and the reasons for hiding them. She’d soon have answers but only time would tell if she’d be ready for them.
CHAPTER 2
It came in the midst of dreams as it always did; a sheer overwhelming panic, a tightening of the chest, his lungs thirsty for air. The black fuzziness of sleep was cleaved apart, his fear tearing through his mind with practiced ease. He stood amongst skeletal trees, glowing bones that creaked and swayed with the wind. Branches scratched and clawed over hard earth, reaching out to entangle him, to strangle and consume.
There was a flash of white hair and dark rob
es in the distance, the form disappearing only to reappear again close by. It slipped through the trees, growing closer and closer. And then the figure was before him, his own brother. His twin watched him with dull, lifeless eyes, his skin dreadfully pale. “Was it worth it, Brother?” Fenir asked, his voice wavering in the space between them. “Was it worth my death?”
Tomias knew the world around him was not real. His brother was speaking to him, alive in a way he could no longer be. It was a nightmare conjured by his grief-stricken heart. Despite knowing this, the stab of pain and anxiety and fear at seeing his face was all too real. Even in his dreams, the death of his brother haunted him.
“I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted you to die.”
Fenir glowered, his eyes darkening. “After all I protected you from, you still chose her. Liar. Fool. Betrayer.”
Tomias shook his head. “No! I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was trying to protect-”
“- Perhaps it would have been better if you hadn’t stopped me,” Fenir growled. “A slip of the dagger and she would have met a well-deserved fate. You’d be free of her, free from her corruption. But you chose her. Liar.” The wavering revenant scoffed, disappearing into a puff of smoke. He appeared again behind Tomias, hovering near his left shoulder. “Fool. Betrayer. I was your brother. You could have saved me.”
“This wasn’t her fault. She was trying to save us. She came back for us!”