“The Creator knew what I needed,” Fraya said softly. “His quiet nature suits me. I’m not exactly a socialite. I’d more prefer to spend an evening around the hearth than a gaudy night on the town. Just knowing he’s there because he cares is fine with me.”
Lyessa thought Fraya’s idea of love seemed a little boring, but who was she to question what love truly was? She’d been engaged to marry someone who seemed to care more for himself than he did for her. Of course, that hadn’t been her choosing, and she had to admit that Aiden had done a lot of growing since their battle with the Northmen, but credit for that went solely to Adarra.
“And what of our quiet bookworm?” Lyessa teased, lolling her head to the side to see if Adarra was paying attention. “A person would have to be blind not to see that a certain young gentleman has taken quite the fancy to your specific company.”
Adarra’s head rose slightly above the rim. “I don’t know how much of that attention is because he actually cares about plain ol’ me and how much is his way of trying to show remorse, or perhaps sympathy, to someone who saved his life.”
“Nonsense,” Fraya said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The first time I met him, I thought he was shallow, and a bit of a prig, but I have to admit he’s changed, and largely in part because of you.”
“I agree,” Lyessa chimed in. “He hardly resembles the man he was not two weeks back.”
“When you’re as wealthy as he is,” Adarra said, “you aren’t going to look twice at someone like me. I’m short, my hair is plain, my ears stick out, and my cheeks are freckled. Most guys wouldn’t acknowledge me if I was sitting in their lap.” She choked. “Not that I would ever sit in a man’s lap, of course. I was just saying—”
“Quit being so hard on yourself, Adarra,” Fraya said. “I think your freckles are one of your best features. They make you stand out from all the rest of the plain-faced girls.”
Adarra huffed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“My father said he asked you to try talking with that Northman you captured,” Lyessa said, steering them away from what was clearly an uncomfortable subject for Adarra. “Is that wise, especially after what you went through with this particular savage?”
“I agree,” Fraya said, ducking to rinse the soap from her hair. “Maybe you should reconsider. I know I wouldn’t want to come face-to-face with the man who nearly killed me.”
“It’s not that easy,” Adarra said. “I’m the only one who stands any chance of communicating with him. The Northman dialect is complex, and I’ve only just begun to research it. Your father was good enough to loan me a couple of books from his personal library, and I found one or two references in town, but that certainly isn’t much to go on. Without my gift as a memoriae, there wouldn’t be a way to decipher this amount of knowledge in time. Your father is depending on me to get some answers.”
Unfortunately, Lyessa understood her father’s insistence. Sometimes, you had to do things that were unpleasant. Even still, she worried this was asking too much of Adarra.
“What happens if you see him and freeze?” Fraya asked.
Adarra leaned forward and hugged her knees. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when it happens.”
Chapter 47 | Ty
“ALL RIGHT, LET’S BRING this meeting to order,” Veldon said as he smacked the top of the council room table with his mug. Ty was already seated, quietly watching the others as they mingled.
Every member was in attendance, even Gilly. Two of the seats had been removed from the table and placed against the back wall. His mother’s seat was one. The other had belonged to Saleena. Two spots vacant. How many more would there be in the coming months?
If the Tower had their way, all of them. A table surrounded by empty chairs.
Ty stared at the two seats. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off them, his knuckles white as he gripped the seat of his own chair. He could feel the tears trying to claw their way out, but he fed his anger to keep them bottled up inside.
Veldon plopped down in his chair at the head and scooted forward, far enough for his midriff to press against the dull edge of the table. The flint around his neck hung loosely from its chain as he leaned forward to start the proceedings. “It has been an exciting week for the ven’ae, that’s for sure.” For the first time in a long time, the portmaster was smiling, and so far, he hadn’t rubbed his head once with his handkerchief. A good sign.
“Exciting is hardly the word I’d use,” Orlyn said, sitting directly across from Ty. He pulled a shiny green apple from his robe and took a bite. “Needs more oomph. Extraordinary, maybe. Or miraculous. Certainly something I would have never expected to see in my lifetime.”
Veldon nodded. “I don’t believe we could have had a more profitable meeting with the Sidaran Assembly had they decided to induct each of us into their ranks. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect when Overlord Barl extended the invitation. I was simply hoping to make it out in one piece.” He smiled again. “Things are changing.”
“That’s what worries me,” Ty’s father said from the other end of the table, drawing eyes and dampening spirits. His father was known for looking at the bigger picture, and Ty was curious to see what he’d say. “I agree, of course, the outcome was encouraging, and for once, it seems we have an audience willing to listen. But change is not always a good thing. And unfortunately for us, this change means an escalation of the conflict between the ven’ae and the White Tower.”
Ty groaned inside. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, his father was right. He could do without that kind of change.
“Regardless,” Veldon said, finally reaching for his kerchief, “what we witnessed during the assembly was historic—jun’ri assembly members sharing seats with ven’ae and listening. Granted, it took a dead arachnobe to make it happen, but it was progress.”
Feoldor chuckled. “I’ll never forget the horror on their pasty faces, or the way they nearly beat each other to death, running from one side of the room to the other when those hairy legs came flopping out. It was worth the risk just for that.”
“I remember you not wanting to get all that close either, the first time you saw them,” Reloria said with a raised brow.
“Yes, well, I, uh . . . That was different. They could have still been alive.”
Normally, Ty would have smiled at the couple’s playful banter, but all this talk of spiders had him thinking about the one controlling them. He stared at the table, his eyes blending the age lines in the wood together until everything was a blur. Where had she gone, and more importantly, would she be back? He had tried to use his magic to listen to the forest the same way he had when he first sensed the arachnobe, but so far, he’d been unsuccessful.
The unease he had felt when the creatures were around was gone. There had to be more clues inside her shop. If only Orlyn and Feoldor hadn’t walked in on him and Breen when they had. He needed to get back in there and do some more snooping. Realizing that he was stroking the spine of the book inside his coat, he lowered his hand.
“We need to prepare for retaliation,” his father said.
Veldon wiped his forehead. “I agree that we need to be ready, but having played their hand and lost, wouldn’t it be more likely that the Tower would pull back and re-strategize rather than attempt another assault so quickly? Surely, they have to realize that involving Overlord Barl in this conflict has changed things. They’ve been lurking in the shadows for years, and now a light has been shone where none had before.”
“Aye,” Orlyn said, taking another bite of his apple. “They’ve bitten off more than they were prepared to swallow.”
“After what happened with Cylmar,” Ty’s father said, fiddling with his pipe, not bothering to stuff it as much as spin it in his hands, “I have a feeling that secrecy is less important than it used to be. We are going to need to find a way to defend ourselves. Because when they come—and believe me, if Ty’s as important to them as they s
ay, they will be coming—I doubt it will be for just him or even the council. We could be facing a full invasion.”
“Would the Tower take it that far?” Reloria asked. “It would unite the rest of the kingdoms against them if they did.”
“The Tower isn’t alone. They’ve clearly found an alliance with this new king and Elondria—”
“Which is one of the reasons Overlord Barl is holding this upcoming conclave with Briston and Keldor,” Veldon said, leaning back in his seat as he slowly thumbed the flint hanging from his neck. “The Provincial Authority is the only way to legally block what the king is doing.”
“If he’s even willing to acknowledge that authority,” Feoldor scoffed, proving once again that even with his generally pessimistic attitude, Feoldor could make a good point every now and then.
“I thought the king had to abide by the Provincial Authority’s ruling?” Ty said, remembering what he’d been taught in school.
Orlyn chuckled. “In a perfect world, perhaps. I don’t think this new High King will let little things like laws get in the way of him getting what he wants.”
“How do we go about preparing?” Breen asked. “It’s not like we have the numbers to defend against something like the White Tower.”
“We hide,” Gilly exclaimed, directly to Veldon’s right.
Feoldor grunted. “That might work for you and the assassin down there, but that won’t help the rest of us much. I can’t turn myself invisible or live underwater like a fish.”
Sheeva let her amber eyes do the talking for her as she glared down the table at Feoldor.
“Unfortunately,” Ty’s father said, “hiding is no longer an option. Not only does the Tower know we are here and protecting their prize, but the Sidaran Assembly knows there are wielders here as well. And they will be needing our help more than ever if the Tower does decide to attack.”
“Barl was right to recall the lancers,” Veldon said. “But if the Tower has been collecting wielders and training them, our small council won’t be enough to stop them.”
“I’d say we held our own,” Feoldor said.
“And we lost two in the process,” Ty’s father added softly, his voice gruff. “How many more of those battles until we lose the rest?”
The table went quiet.
Ty’s gaze drifted back to the empty chairs in the corner. He could feel the heat of his magic rising, the longer he stared. His magic seemed to live on the edge of his emotions. He wasn’t sure which was harder to control.
“We were lucky this time,” his father said. “They clearly hadn’t expected resistance. The next time will be different.”
Ty almost hoped they would come. At least then he would be guaranteed another run at Mangora.
Orlyn finished off the apple, core and all. “Kellen’s right. Who knows how many of those bulradoer the Tower has? And those weapons. I’ve never seen anything like them. They far outmatched anything we have. How do we fight against something like that?”
“We didn’t do too bad,” Fraya said. “We survived.”
“By luck. Pure. Simple. Luck.”
“That staff of yours seemed to hold its own,” Reloria said, nodding toward the large piece of wood resting behind Orlyn’s seat.
“Yes. Well . . . that was an unexpected surprise, to be sure.”
“What about Nyalis?” Adarra said, letting her quill hover over the notebook she’d been scribbling in. Ty had almost forgotten she was there. “Sure, they have the Tower, and the numbers, but we have a thousand-year-old wizard who was around before the Great Purge. I’m sure he can help.”
All heads turned to Ty.
Why was he the one everyone looked to when it came to the wizard? Breen and Sheeva had been in Meerwood as well. Why didn’t anyone look at them? “I didn’t get the impression he intends to stick around and fight a battle right now. He has other things on his mind.”
“Such as?” Veldon asked.
“Such as his wizard’s keep.” He wondered how much longer Nyalis would give him before he came looking. Ty was still uncertain as to whether he wanted to go traipsing off on some quest to find the hidden fortress when he could be spending that time looking for Mangora. “I think we should search Mangora’s shop. There could be some valuable information in there on what the Tower is planning, or even how to stop them.”
“There’s a lot of dark stuff in there,” Orlyn said. “It might be best if we stay clear for now. At least until we have an opportunity to carefully inventory the place.”
Typical, Ty thought. If it’s something we don’t understand, then ignore it. How were they ever going to defeat the Tower if they didn’t try to understand how the Tower thought? What better way to find a weakness than to see what kind of magic they were up against and how it worked? Or maybe it was something else. He looked across the table at Orlyn. Was there another reason he didn’t want Ty searching the place?
Feoldor spun the bracelet on his wrist, rubbing the transferal crystal at its center with his thumb. “I say we just burn it all.”
Ty’s head shot up. “Are you crazy?! We can’t just destroy it. There might be clues in there on how to stop them.”
“It’s not worth the risk,” Orlyn said, unexpectedly backing Feoldor.
Ty could feel the heat burning in his chest. “How do you know?”
This time, his father turned to look at him. Even Adarra paused long enough to give him a curious look.
“Just because it’s different doesn’t make it bad.” How could they think about destroying it all? He needed . . . wanted to look through the rest of those books. Why was everyone fighting him on this? “I’m different. Do you plan on burning me, too?”
“Are you all right?” Orlyn asked, a worried look on his face.
Ty looked at the others. Had he gone too far? The strange looks on their faces said he had. He took another deep breath, letting the fire inside him fade. “I’m just saying it seems like a waste to get rid of it all.”
“I think at this point,” his father said, “vigilance is our ally. I’d rather err on the side of caution than put us all in jeopardy by messing with things we don’t understand.” He looked at Ty. “I do agree, though, we don’t need to simply destroy it. At least, not until the wizard has had a chance to go through it first and tell us what is safe and what isn’t.”
“Then what are we to do with it until then?” Reloria asked. She unwrapped a piece of candy and stuck it in her mouth. “We shouldn’t just leave it there for anyone to get into.”
“Agreed,” Veldon said. “I say we inventory what is there, then box it up and find a safe place to store it until the wizard can go through it.”
Ty wanted to ask how soon until they started, but that might raise unnecessary questions. One thing was for sure: He was going to need to act quickly if he planned on getting a peek at those books. The only problem was Orlyn’s new protection spell. His fists tightened. He could strangle Nyalis for showing him that.
“In answer to Breen’s earlier question of how to prepare,” Ty’s father said, “we should start by helping Barl plan for Sidara’s defense.”
“We also have another potential problem,” Adarra said. “The Tallosians.”
Yes, Ty thought, nibbling his lower lip. The Northmen. That was another group of people who needed to pay for his mother’s death.
“How’s that coming?” Orlyn asked. “Have you found any books on their language to help?”
Adarra shook her head. “Not much. And what I have found is too outdated to be of much use. The only way to decipher their language might be for me to talk with him.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Reloria asked. “Couldn’t they find someone else, considering?”
Adarra passed a fleeting glance at Fraya before answering. “I’m afraid I’m the only one able in the time allotted.”
No one seemed to envy Adarra having to face the savage again. Except maybe Ty.
He was more than anxious to talk w
ith the prisoner. A nice, quiet conversation about where Mangora was hiding. Unfortunately, he had more important things to consider. Namely, his need to get into Mangora’s shop before the council began boxing it up and secreting it off. If only he knew some way to get past that shield.
Chapter 48 | Ty
TY LAY QUIETLY ON his bed. His brother had been asleep for at least an hour, shifting positions every so often. The two beds were separated by a small table with a candle that Ty had relit with blue flame so he could see the empty pages of the book. The blue light was dimmer than a normal candle and less likely to wake his brother. It also made it a little harder to see the book. Not that it mattered. The pages were still empty.
Maybe he had just imagined the message in Mangora’s shop. Maybe he had wanted it to hold some valuable piece of information so badly that he’d seen what he wanted to. Sure, it had warned him that Orlyn and Feoldor were coming, but that could have been anything. He could have heard something outside, or his magic picked up on theirs and subconsciously let him know that they were there.
“This is crazy,” he said under his breath. There was nothing there. He turned over to blow out the candle when a slight buzzing stopped him, like the sound a sweat bee made when hovering close to his ear. He looked around but couldn’t see anything.
It happened again. This time louder, as though the bee were in his head. His hand tingled from where he was holding the book. He opened to the first page and quickly sat up. Another message. It was real. He read it:
Search the shop.
Which shop? Mangora’s? It had to be. Why would the book tell him to look anywhere else? Ty read the three words over and over again, too afraid to turn the page, in case they disappeared. Too afraid to even take his eyes off them.
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