Godfire

by Cara Witter

  Sayvil looked him up and down, taking in his officer’s uniform, and she took a step closer to Daniella, raising her hands in the same motion she’d used to blind the other guards.

  Kenton stepped back and put up a hand to shield his eyes. “I had to get in here somehow. I’m sorry if the uniform makes you uncomfortable, but it’ll be handy to get us both out of here. And we need to go. Now.”

  Daniella shook her head vigorously at Sayvil. “You can’t trust him,” she said. “He tried to—he’s not—” She paused, as if unable to find the appropriate way to sum up all of Kenton’s faults.

  Then, she did. “He’s a Drim.”

  By the gods. This was not the place to discuss this, and Kenton as sure as all hells was not going to announce to Sayvil in front of Daniella that she was likely the bearer of Arkista.

  But they really needed to go.

  Sayvil took another step toward Daniella, and Kenton found himself judging the distance between himself and Sayvil, trying to determine if he could get to her without being blinded. She had a knife at her belt but was otherwise unarmed—and if she was solely relying on her magic to blind guards, she probably wasn’t adept at combat.

  And she was standing uncomfortably close to Daniella, who Kenton had seen kill at a touch. But he’d also seen the girl sob on the floor of the Chamber of Binding and cower helplessly while incompetent rebels killed her companion with a crossbow bolt.

  Whatever Daniella was, Kenton was becoming more and more certain that she didn’t have a clue what she was capable of.

  Kenton gestured down at the dead guard. “I did just save you both. Are you telling me you’d rather take your chances with the mercy of the men who work for Diamis?”

  Sayvil looked over her shoulder, then took a step toward him. Kenton readied himself as she approached. He could incapacitate her, but could he get her safely away from the castle without either hurting her or drawing the attention of the guards? Perhaps if he pretended she was a prisoner, he’d be able to—

  “Fine,” she said. “Let’s get to safety, and we can discuss it.”

  He started out, with Sayvil at his heels. Daniella, of course, followed, which he supposed was marginally better than running off to tell Daddy what she’d seen. He growled low in Sayvil’s ear.

  “What are you doing with her? Don’t you know who she is? She’s the last person you should be—”

  “She,” Sayvil snapped at him, “has defected to the resistance. Wherever I go, she’s coming with me.”

  Kenton’s hands tightened into fists and, for a moment, he wanted to whack her across the back of her fool head. If he was right about Sayvil—and having seen her power, he was all the more convinced he was—then she was one of the four most important people in all of the Five Lands.

  Daniella, on the other hand, could rot in the highest of all hells for the things she’d done, even if she was an unwitting pawn. Being unaware was not the same as being innocent; being clueless didn’t make her deserving of trust. If anything, it made Kenton distrust her more, because it made her hard to predict.

  But this wasn’t the time to make a scene about it. He’d have to deal with her later. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll leave the grounds on the south side. If we run into any guards on the way, pretend to be my prisoner.” Kenton grabbed Sayvil’s arm as they ran, cutting through the sprawling gardens on either side of the south gate, where foreign dignitaries and nobility would often come through.

  Sayvil didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of posing as Kenton’s prisoner, but she at least played along for now. Over the top of some tall bushes dotted with sweet-smelling blossoms, he saw two patrols coming in their direction. Kenton’s nose began to itch from the pollen, and he held in a sneeze, leading the women deeper into the ornamental hedges on their way to the south gate.

  He stole another glance behind at Daniella, who was cowering close, glancing furtively behind them.

  Defecting to the resistance. What in the gods’ names was that girl up to?

  Kenton only managed to get them halfway across the gardens before Sayvil wrenched away from him and ducked into the darkness of a gazebo, examining her forearm where Kenton had been gripping her. Daniella followed her in, hiding deeper in the shadows, and while Kenton didn’t love being unable to keep as close an eye on her, he did take a minute to wait at the gazebo entrance, listening for guards, before he ducked inside behind them.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said. “We need to get you off the castle grounds—”

  Sayvil stared him down, still holding her arm. “Yes, you’ve said that several times. But I’m not going any further with you until you tell me what in the hells you want with me. Who are you?”

  “I’m Kenton,” he said. Despite the impracticalities, he dearly wished he had Perchaya along. She was so good at putting people at ease, while Kenton—well. Look at how smoothly this was going. “That magic you did,” he said. “It isn’t learned, is it? You didn’t study at Vorgale. I talked to your husband, Quinn, in Drepaine, and he told me you hadn’t.”

  She hesitated, looking more suspicious at the mention of Quinn’s name, then shook her head. “I’m good with herbs, but I don’t know how to mix potions or make charms or—”

  “And that trick you do with the light—it’s not Drimmish, and it’s not blood magic.”

  He caught Daniella nodding. Agreeing with him. That made Kenton feel slightly less enthusiastic about his point, but it didn’t make him any less right.

  “I know that,” Sayvil said. “I don’t know what it is. I can just do it.”

  “Almost without thinking,” he said.

  Sayvil narrowed her eyes. “What are you getting at?”

  Kenton didn’t answer right away, only gave Daniella a hard look. Because suddenly, everything made sense. By the gods—Daniella knew what she was traveling with. He couldn’t blame her for saying whatever was necessary to stay with Sayvil. The daughter of Diamis sure as hells wasn’t going to let the bearer of Arkista out of her sight. She apparently hadn’t seen fit to fill Sayvil in, but if Daniella already knew, there was no reason for Kenton to stay silent about it. “The magic you’re doing comes from Arkista herself. Believe it or not, it’s a miracle. A sign that you’re one of the godbearers.”

  Sayvil squinted at him. “I’m what?”

  Kenton squeezed his hands into fists. “You’re the bearer of Arkista,” he said, barely daring to raise his voice above a whisper. “Prophesied to stop the return of Maldorath. No matter what happens, I can’t allow you to fall into Diamis’ hands.”

  Sayvil and Daniella both looked at Kenton like he’d completely lost his mind.

  “The bearer of Arkista?” Daniella said. “Are you sure?”

  Gods. He was not going to argue this with her, especially since she was clearly putting on an act. He could at least be reasonably certain that the mixture of doubt and wariness on Sayvil’s face was sincere.

  “I’m a chosen,” Sayvil said. “And you. You’re a Drim?”

  Kenton nodded. “Yes, I am. Which means Diamis is hunting me, sure as he’s hunting you. He’s trying to release Maldorath, Sayvil. He killed off my kind to accomplish it. It’s absolutely imperative that you stay away from him.”

  Sayvil gave Kenton a long glare. Then she turned to Daniella. “Is what he’s saying about your father true?” she demanded.

  Kenton rolled his head back in exasperation. Arkista had picked a winner of a bearer if she was going to believe Diamis’ monster child over him.

  He waited for Daniella to deny what he was saying. But instead Daniella squirmed slightly, her fingers nervously plucking at the skirt of her nightdress. “Yes,” she said.

  Sayvil scrutinized Daniella. “Your father is trying to release Maldorath?”

  Daniella hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.” She looked as disgusted to be agr
eeing with something Kenton said as he was to be backed up by her, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t afford to be picky. She glanced uncomfortably down at Sayvil’s hands. “And that thing you did with the light, I didn’t recognize it at first, but it did look an awful lot like what’s prophesied in the Banishment Chronicle. You really might be the bearer of Arkista.”

  Sayvil looked at Kenton with astonishment. “Arkista certainly hasn’t shown me any favor,” she said. “I’m not even religious anymore.”

  “Yes, well,” Kenton said, “I probably wouldn’t have picked you, either. But unless you want to bring about the end of the world, we really do need to get out of here.” He eyed Daniella. “Without her.”

  Daniella shook her head furiously. “No. You have to take me out of here. I can’t go back. I won’t.”

  Kenton sighed. For all he’d seen her do, she had quite the tendency to sound like a petulant child. He was about to open his mouth to refuse, when Sayvil gave him another glare.

  “I’m not leaving her behind,” Sayvil said. “She’s under the resistance’s protection now.”

  Kenton bit his tongue to keep from telling her exactly what he thought about the resistance’s ability to protect anyone.

  But, really, his first priority was to get Sayvil to safety. Everything else had to bow to that. And if it meant he had to wait until they got beyond the castle wall before ditching Daniella, so be it.

  “Fine,” he said. “As long as you’ll come with me.” He moved again to the entrance to the gazebo, ensuring it was safe, and led his two unlikely companions out into the night.

  Twenty-four

  Kenton led Sayvil and Daniella out of the gardens and along the wall of the inner courtyard toward the south gate. He motioned for the other two to hang back, and he moved up through the bushes beneath the wall. He was trying to get close enough to get a feel for how many guards they’d have to take on to escape, when he heard another patrol approaching.

  “I brought her in on good faith,” a man’s voice said. “And now you’re sending me away without payment?”

  “You’ll get your due,” another man said. “But we’re not digging gold out of the treasury tonight. Come back during the day for your reward.”

  Through the bush’s tangle of slim leaves, Kenton could count three guards at the gate and another three escorting a man with a long mustache through. It might have been best to make a go of it while the gate was open, but six on one were bad enough odds to give him pause, especially when he had no way to predict what Daniella would do. Kenton leaned back against the wall, wondering how many Sayvil could distract at a time.

  “I’d better,” the man said as he walked away. “I brought you a Drim; I expect the promised reward.”

  Kenton froze, feeling a sudden urge to shake the man by the throat. After all these years, this was still happening. First to his people, but to how many others over the years, who shared not a drop of Drimmish blood?

  Kenton heard the gate swing shut and prayed that the other guards would leave again, but still they lingered.

  One of the gate guards turned to the guard who’d spoken. “Is the girl in the dungeon?”

  “I sent word to that Vorgalian mage to take a look at her ring. Looked Drimmish to me, though. Those runes.” Kenton saw the man shudder, even through the cover of leaves.

  He nearly launched himself through the bush. Her ring? Those runes?

  Damn Paulus. Damn the fool resistance. Damn . . . whoever that man had been. The dungeons of Castle Peldenar were well fortified and buried beneath the castle itself. The effect of the chaos would be waning now, as the full castle garrison answered the call of the bell. The odds were against him getting inside and extracting Perchaya without one or both of them getting killed, especially with the castle on high alert.

  Not to mention leaving Sayvil to fend for herself with Daniella.

  Kenton glanced behind him at the pair. If he escaped with both of them now, he would have Diamis’ daughter as leverage. He couldn’t leave Perchaya for long, but Diamis did like to make public examples of Drim before he executed them, presumably to keep the hatred alive, to keep more Drim flowing to him.

  To find Kenton.

  If Diamis decided to torture her, he’d probably wait until things were settled around the castle, and even if he didn’t, Kenton imagined that Perchaya, like most people, would break instantly and be spared heavy pain. Though the thought of Diamis laying a hand on her made Kenton want to disembowel the man with a garden spade.

  He couldn’t lose her now. It pained him to leave her, but once he got Sayvil to safety, he’d return for her. It was the only way to protect them all.

  The patrol marched away again, leaving only the three guards at the gate. “All right,” Kenton whispered. “You blind the ones on the far side, and I’ll take the closest one first. Try to keep them off me, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Sayvil glanced once up at the moon and nodded.

  Daniella flattened herself in the space between the wall and a bush. “What do you want me to do?”

  Kenton shook his head. He wanted her to have stayed back in the castle, but now . . . “Stay put, and try not to get us all killed.”

  Daniella gave him a fervent nod, her brows knitting together like this was going to be a difficult task. Kenton moved up to a small gap between the bushes and motioned for Sayvil to do the same.

  “On my mark,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “Three. Two.”

  Kenton waved his hand and stepped through the bushes, directly behind one of the guards. In a single motion, Kenton raised his knife and slipped it across the man’s throat. Kenton felt his hand go slick with blood and the man crumpled to the ground.

  A bright beam of light flickered across the faces of the other two guards, who stumbled back, shielding their eyes instead of reaching for their swords. Kenton drew the sword from the fallen guard and dispatched them both quickly and silently before either could cry out.

  Sayvil stared at Kenton as he kicked the last guard over backward, sliding his sword through his throat. Daniella slipped from the bushes, looking wide-eyed at the guards.

  Kenton ignored them both. He’d done the obvious, efficient thing in killing them silently, and he didn’t know what else they could have expected. He unlocked the gate with his keys and the three wound along the edge of the outer courtyard, which, thankfully, was relatively quiet, what with the bulk of the guards occupied with the castle and its immediate grounds.

  Two more guards were now at the gatehouse, working to fix the jammed portcullis. Kenton didn’t even need Sayvil’s magic to take care of them.

  This time Daniella made a noise like she might be about to throw up. He rolled his eyes and tore the cloak from the least bloody of the bodies and tossed it at Daniella. “Put this on,” he said. “The last thing we need is to get questioned by the city watch for running through the streets with you in your nightgown.”

  As they left the castle, Kenton could hear the night bells ring far off in the city, too faint to count. The alarm bells from the castle had stopped—another sign that the castle guard now had the situation in hand. The three of them circled slowly in the shadows through the justice district to the east of the castle, past the square with the gallows where Perchaya’s body would no doubt soon be hanging if Kenton didn’t do something about it. Diamis had killed so many Drim that way, along with so many others under false accusation.

  But with Perchaya, would Diamis wait? If Paulus had betrayed her, then Kenton had to assume Diamis would soon know Kenton was here as well, whether Paulus himself gave Kenton up or Perchaya did under pressure of torture. Would Diamis, instead of simply killing her, drain some of her blood and take control of her? Even if he got Perchaya out of there alive, he couldn’t discount the possibility that Diamis would want him to save her, so he could use her blo
od to take control of her and attack Kenton, or, what was potentially more dangerous, take only a light level of control and watch his every move through Perchaya’s eyes.

  Kenton turned to Daniella, huddled in the dead guard’s cloak, and his own blood seemed to drain from his body.

  Gods, Kenton was a fool.

  He grabbed Daniella, pinning her arms to her sides so she couldn’t struggle, and wrapped one edge of the cloak over her eyes. The girl shrieked, but Kenton muffled the noise with the cloak and dragged her down a narrow side street of closed shops and houses with darkened windows, away from the square.

  “What are you doing?” Sayvil demanded. She followed after him, tugging on his shoulder, but made no move to attack him.

  “She’s his daughter,” Kenton said. “Diamis will surely have some of her blood, which means that if he’s noticed her missing, he could take control of her at any time, use her as a pawn to kill us both.” Which would explain why she seemed completely unaware of the atrocities she’d performed. Though as for the things he’d seen her do—kill at a touch, raise the dead—those were things even blood magic couldn’t explain.

  “No—” Daniella said. “I don’t think—”

  Kenton tightened his grip on her. “He could have saved your blood from when you were a child. He can use your blood to see through your eyes, and you wouldn’t even know it. We have to move—get as far from here as we can. He’ll be tracing us back from the spot where he lost us, if we aren’t surrounded already.”

  In his arms, Daniella went limp—just enough that he could easily steer her. He kept a tight grip on her, in case she was merely pretending to relax to take him unaware when she tried to fight herself free. But when they reached the end of the street and she hadn’t made a go of it, Kenton adjusted the cloak over her face, ensuring that it blocked her eyes, but still allowed her to breathe.