The Allseer Trilogy

by Kaitlyn Rouhier

  “And so you’ll follow her. Follow her to the grave.”

  “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want you to die. Please.”

  Fenir smiled, his teeth black with rot, and began to walk a slow, predatory circle around Tomias. His hair hung over his face like a veil, shielding his expression from view. “We can be together, Brother. Join me in death.”

  Tomias looked down. Something pressed against the flesh of his palm, cold and solid. A dagger rested in his shaking hand, glinting in the moon light.

  “Death for one, death for both.”

  Black threads pierced through his guard, slithering into his mind and burning trails of fire through his brain. His fingers clenched the dagger, raised it to his own throat. He shook with fear, fighting against the terrible thing his brother was compelling him to do.

  “Fool.”

  The cold touch of the dagger against his skin.

  “Liar.”

  A slip of the blade, a whisper against his throat.

  “Betrayer.”

  The blade tumbled from his fingers, his life blood with it. He sank to his knees before Fenir, feeling warmth drain away from his body. Blood ran in rivulets along the ground, snaking amongst glowing leaves and hardened earth.

  “Death for one, death for both.”

  Fenir shattered before him, shards of glass clinking together as they collided in the air. The shards scattered all around him, cutting through his robes and skin as if he were made of paper. The world spun, the glowing trees becoming a sickening swirl of blue. He tumbled forward, bursting into the real world with a gasp. Terror gripped his heart, his hands sliding up to his neck, a neck that was still whole. His blood was still his, his life his own.

  Flinging his blanket aside, he lurched to his feet, stumbling out of the horse stall and out of the barn. The moon shone full and bright overhead. The fresh air cleared his head and stilled his heart. He breathed deeply of it, letting it wash away the remnants of the dream.

  Along the main road through the village, marked by deep ruts from the carts pushing through spring rain, walked a woman with billowing red hair. Trista. She watched him from across the way, her green eyes critical and knowing.

  The death of Fenir had hurt her greatly. The kind, gentle healer had retreated from the world, throwing herself into her work with a feverish passion to drown out the pain. She’d taken Isa as an apprentice, two wounded souls trying to fix everything but their broken hearts.

  She wore a white dress that shimmered in the light of the moon. She was barefoot and she approached with slow, mesmerizing steps. Her legs, visible, were pale and smooth and perfect. She stopped in front of him, words hovering on curved lips.

  “How could you choose her? How could you choose a girl over your own brother?”

  Tomias, still recovering from his nightmare, was flabbergasted. His jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. They were not the words he wanted to hear. He wanted her forgiveness, not her anger. And here, in the middle of the night, it was her bitter hatred that greeted him.

  “Trista, please. I can’t, not after that...”

  She shook her head. “You think I care? You took him from me. It hurts to even see your face. Do you know what that feels like? I still see his ghost in you.”

  He knew better than anyone. Every time he saw his own reflection he was reminded of his loss, of the vacancy in heart and body and mind. He knew what it felt like each time he reached out with his mind, only to find that familiar warmth replaced by a cold and empty hole in his own head. That’s what he was, what’d he’d always be - alone.

  “I didn’t want this. I never wanted to lose him. I’m so sorry, Trista.”

  Eyes the color of peridot reflected her tears. Her hands shook and her face contorted with rage. It wasn’t the gentle cracking of her hatred he was seeing, it was the building of it, that delicate slip into madness.

  “He may forgive you, Tomias, but I never will.” She lunged forward, her left arm snaking around the back of his neck while her right plunged a dagger into his gut. Pain ignited, burning through every vein as she twisted the blade. “Liar. Fool. Betrayer. Join him in death.”

  Kirheen lay in the dark, listening to Tomias toss and turn in the stall next to her. He mumbled something incoherent, moaning as he rolled onto his side. It was a common occurrence. Since the death of his brother, his dreams had turned to nightmares he couldn’t escape.

  She’d hoped the guilt he felt would fade and during his waking hours, it had. It was different at night, his guilt twisting his mind and heart and shaping it into a labyrinth of terror. He was a prisoner, unable to escape from the cage he’d built for himself.

  His breathing grew frantic, his tossing and turning violent. Kirheen threw her blanket aside, brushing hay from her hair and clothes as she tip-toed out of her stall. Benny raised his head and whinnied softly to question her rising. She shushed him, giving him a few reassuring strokes before stepping towards Tomias.

  She knelt down beside him, giving him a wide berth as she did. She’d learned early on not to startle him awake. Once she’d been greeted by his fist after waking him, an event that Tomias still apologized profusely for. Reaching out a hand, she touched him gently on the shoulder. “Tomias, it’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here for you.”

  He shuddered, rolling away from her. “No, no. I didn’t mean for this.”

  “It’s all right. Come back. Wake up.”

  He rolled onto his back, his breathing rapid. She stroked his forehead, pushing away stringy strands of damp white hair. Without warning, he snapped awake, his hand shooting forward and locking on to her wrist. In one movement, he rose and flung her back away from him. Thrown off balance, she collided with the stall door, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. Old wounds protested the collision and she staggered back to her feet, gritting her teeth to fend off the pain.

  Tomias didn’t even seem to notice. His hands frantically wandered over his belly. He lifted his shirt, searching his pale skin. Finding nothing, he collapsed against the back of the stall, covering his face with his hands. “Kir, I’m so sorry. Please tell me this is real. I can’t tell… I don’t know.”

  Kirheen rolled her shoulder, grimacing as she did. She stepped towards him with renewed caution. When he didn’t acknowledge her approach, she sank down in the hay in front of him, reaching forward slowly. She took hold of his wrists, prying his hands away from his face. His eyes were wide and fearful, and he shook as if someone had placed him on a snowy hill without a stitch of clothing to his name. “Tomias, look at me.”

  He struggled to focus, his eyes wavering as he looked at her. Teeth chattered with every breath, his shivering intensified. “I can’t tell what is real anymore. It felt…I thought it was real. I could feel it, I could feel it all leaving. She killed me. Allseer, please tell me this is real. You’re real, aren’t you? Why is it so hard to tell?”

  Kirheen frowned, pained by the fear and confusion he was feeling. She wasn’t sure her words would be enough to comfort him, to convince him that the world around him wasn’t some terrifying illusion conjured by his own mind. “This is real,” she whispered, slipping her hand into his. “Nothing is going to hurt you. It’s okay now.” He clenched his eyes shut, sucking in a lungful of air before he opened them again. He met her gaze before settling his eyes on the diagonal scar across her cheek, a scar his brother had given her.

  “You are real, aren’t you?”

  Kirheen nodded, relaxing as he reoriented himself to reality. “Bad dreams again?”

  He huffed as he leaned his head back. “It’s always the same, the same guilt for what happened. I thought-”

  “-Tomias, it hasn’t been that long. This isn’t something that is going to just go away. Why not talk to Trista?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. They weren’t on good terms after everything that had happened.

  “She won’t see me. You know that. She can’t stand the sight of my face and I won’t cause her t
hat pain. I’ll manage. There are other healers I can consult.”

  “I understand,” Kirheen said, her tone gentle. She didn’t need to stress him by arguing the point. “Are you going to try and go back to sleep?”

  “I…I don’t know. I should. We’ve got so much to do tomorrow. I’m sorry for waking you. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  Kirheen shrugged. “Oh, it’s alright. I should know to be more careful.”

  “You shouldn’t have to be,” he said, his expression pained.

  “I’m not blaming you,” she said seriously. She went to rise but he gripped her hand, halting her in place. She sat back on her heels, giving him a curious glance. His eyes were large, luminous orbs that showed such terror and helplessness that it broke her heart to look at him. “Are you going to be okay, Tomias?”

  “Will you just stay here, please? I don’t think-”

  “Shh,” Kirheen whispered. “I’ll be right here. Just try and sleep, all right?”

  “I will. Thank you, Kir. It helps…”

  “I know.”

  He released his grip, lying back onto his makeshift bed and rolling onto his side. Kirheen grabbed his blanket, tucked herself in against his back, and draped it over them both. She snaked her arm around him and he found her hand, gripping it tightly. It was a long time before his breathing calmed, even longer still before each breath deepened. When she was certain he’d fallen asleep, she let herself drift off with him, her last thoughts of a far-away city she so desperately wanted to see.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Are you sure about this?” Therin asked, hands roaming over his horse, Benny, the very horse he was giving to Kirheen to take to Val’shar. Gnarled fingers checked straps and dug through packs, doing a final check before he’d send them on their way. His chest rose and fell in a single, drawn out sigh and he leaned forward, nuzzling his bearded face against the horse’s mane. Pulling away, he turned towards Kirheen, righting his beard with his palm. “You’re more than welcome to stay here with us. You know that, right? You’re not a bother. We’d fix you up something a little more permanent so you’re not sleeping with the horses.”

  Kirheen sighed. It wasn’t the question itself that bothered her, but the meaning behind it. It was the subtle suggestion that what she sought to do wasn’t entirely sane. She knew the risks of leaving the safety of the village. In their little corner of the world, staying obscure was simple. Easy. In a city full of people, the danger for her kind was around every corner. They were choosing a dangerous path by going to Val’shar, but it wasn’t a decision she needed, nor wanted, to be berated about.

  Therin watched her expression closely, his eyes squinted. Sensing her disappointment, he shook his head and apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m not - I don’t want you to think I’m questioning your choice. If this is what you need, who am I to stop you? But I also want you to know that this will always be home to you. If ever there comes a time where you need refuge, you’ve only to knock on our door.”

  Kirheen reached out a hand, gripped the old man’s arm. “Therin, thank you. For everything. I don’t think we’ll be away for long. I just need to go, to find myself in all of this. I have to see it.”

  Therin chuckled. “Damn if you don’t remind me of myself sometimes. Or maybe all young ones are misguided and foolish,” he said with a wink. “What are you hoping to find out there in the big, wide world?”

  The honest truth was she didn’t know. Throughout her youth she had craved one thing -freedom. Now that she had it, the world seemed so large, impossibly large. No longer was she bound by a glowing forest. The way before her was open and limitless, but also dangerous. Sanctuary had kept her safe, had kept her locked away from the dangers that lurked beyond the mountains. But to grow, to learn, to find purpose, she’d need to face those dangers. It was a daunting task and there would be no way of telling if she’d find whatever her soul yearned for, but she couldn’t sit around and wonder.

  “I’m not sure. I can’t even be certain I’ll find it, but I have to try.”

  Therin nodded. “Whatever it is, I hope you find it. Just stay safe, girl. I’ve seen the city myself. It won’t make sense until you see it, but it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced. It is a world of masks and corruption and lies. Watch your back and trust no one.”

  “I’ll be careful,” she said, and then her voice broke, sorrow and gratitude leaking out of every word. “Therin, if you hadn’t been looking out, if you hadn’t noticed me that day, things could have ended very differently. I’ve you to thank for all of this. I couldn’t have stopped Nyson alone.”

  “We helped, but this victory is yours. It was a brave thing you did. You earned your freedom. Don’t waste it.”

  At that moment, Tomias approached, leading a dappled gray mare. He’d already laden the horse with supplies. There was nothing left to do but say their goodbyes, a task that ate at Kirheen more than she wanted to admit. Therin greeted Tomias with a shake of the hand.

  “All packed?”

  Tomias shrugged, giving an unsure grin. “I’ll admit, my experience packing for this sort of thing is limited, to say the least.”

  “That it is. I’ll check over your supplies and make sure you have what you need. Leann will tan my hide if I don’t. She’ll slip a few things into your packs before you’re off, I’m sure. Go ahead and make your rounds, say your farewells. I know you’re eager to be off.”

  Kirheen thanked him, feeling her stomach twist as she moved away from the horses, Tomias at her side.

  “Well, who would you like to see first?” Tomias asked, grabbing her elbow and halting her advance.

  “I don’t know.” Many of the others had left the village, hoping to find their own path in the world. All that remained was a broken healer, her apprentice and a boy she’d once called her friend, and she felt welcomed by none of them. The thought of facing them, of telling them goodbye, was almost too much to bear. “I’m not sure I should. I don’t think he’d want this.”

  Tomias crossed his arms and frowned. “You know this might be your last chance to do this, right? This might be the last time you see him. Once we leave, there is no telling what might happen. You need to accept the possibility that you might never see him again.”

  Despite the rational of his words, they still made her angry. She knew the implications, knew what it would mean if she left and didn’t say goodbye. It would haunt her always, but so would the anger he’d drive her away with, the vile words he’d throw at her, the guilt he’d pile at her feet. The thought of seeing him like that scared her. Better to remember old times, times when he had been a friend and not someone to fear. “And what of Trista? Are you going to say goodbye to her?”

  “Don’t even, Kirheen. That’s different…”

  “Is it, really? They both feel more than a little disdain towards us at the moment. We’re both being blamed for what happened. Are you going to face her? Are you going to accept that?”

  Tomias grimaced. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”

  “Then quit telling me what to do.”

  Tomias said nothing and nodded his head. Despite his passive expression, she could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. He was dreading this just as much as she was. “Good luck,” he whispered, squeezing her arm gently. Kirheen watched him go with sad eyes, feeling very alone in her guilt ridden world.

  Forcing herself forward on shaky legs, she put one foot in front of the other, each step deliberate and painful. She watched the dust kicked up by her feet, watched her shadow stretch and wander the path before her. And then she looked up, looked at the house Garild called home. It was small, a simple dwelling that he shared with a baker that spent most of his time the next village over. Garild watched over it for him while he was away, basking in the refuge of a home he rarely had to share.

  She took the first step, holding the railing to keep herself steady. Her stomach roiled, her breath catching in her throat. Another step and she was on the landing. Her h
and wandered to the door, feeling the grain of the wood beneath her fingertips. And from within the house she could feel him, like a beacon of light radiating within her peripheral.

  They were bonded and such a bond didn’t just disappear, not easily at least. He was always there, always felt even when she tried desperately to ignore him. She could feel his hurt, his pain, his anger. It followed her like a dark cloud, drenching her in his tumultuous emotions. Would distance silence his voice in her head? Would distance help ease the pain he felt whenever he saw her? Would it help him forget the anger? She wouldn’t know until she was far, far away from him.

  She raised her hand to the door, thought about knocking, thought better of it, and let her arm drop to her side. She leaned forward until her forehead was resting on the door. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to steady herself, to bring forth the courage to face him one last time. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough. Not this time.

  She felt herself crack. The tears came, unwanted, and she fought to hold them in. She stifled her cries. She didn’t want him to hear. He shifted in the house, the book creaking in his hands. She could smell the leather binding, could feel the crinkle of the paper as he turned the page. He didn’t notice her.

  An arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulled her close. “It’s okay, Kir,” Tomias said gently, leading her away from the house. When they’d rounded the corner, he embraced her tightly, stroking her hair with his long fingers. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  “Were you able to? Could you face her?”

  There was a moment of silence, an unspoken exchange between them that said more than the word that left his lips. “No.”

  CHAPTER 4

  The morning was misty and cool, the sun tinging the mountain tops with golden light. Fog still clung to the low dips in the landscape, making everything seem eerie and unnaturally still. From atop the hill, Kirheen could see the path that would lead them south. It stretched before them, winding through the valley like a snake before disappearing into a dense thicket of trees that seemed to stretch on for miles.