Bowaen’s eyes shifted to Kalea and back. “Who?”
“His name is Damos. Soon after entering the Wistaran College for Grey Mages, he ran away from it.”
Bowaen reached out and grabbed one of the powdered biscuits Kalea still hadn’t touched. “You want me to catch a brat? I can do that,” he said with his full mouth sending out puffs of powdered sugar.
His chewing slowed. “Hold on.” He swallowed. “A Grey Mage? Are we talking about a kid with white hair and a pet bird?”
“Exactly that person. So you’ve seen the posters?”
“Yeah.” Bowaen’s face soured more than ever. “I saw more than posters. He electrocuted me and then flew away on a bigger bird.”
Kalea put her finger up. “It was a ravian.” She shriveled under everyone’s redirected attention. “Sorry.”
“She’s right,” Dax said. “He has a parrot that can shift into a ravian, and he knows state magic. Technically, he’s dangerous, but don’t be afraid of him. He’s a good person, though a little rash—he’s only seventeen.”
“But how am I supposed to make him come home?”
Dax tapped his finger on the table. “I don’t know. Reason with him if you can, but you must bring him home alive. Hog tie him if it comes to that. But listen.”
Bowaen leaned forward.
“The Sanctified and the Grey Knights are looking for him. If you capture him, do not hand him over to either of those groups.”
“Why not?”
Dax cleared his throat loudly. “Deliver him to my people who bear my crest, no one else. And there’s something else which could make your job easier.”
Lord Dax reached into one of his buttoned pockets and produced a ring box. Sliding it across the table, he said, “At the least, give this to him and make sure he wears it. If you can’t make him come home, our mages can follow its ethereal trail to find him.”
Bowaen turned the little gold ring between two fingers in the candlelight, his frown deep and eyebrows furrowed. It appeared to be a simple man’s ring with large emeralds across the band.
“That was mine, one of my usual rings,” Dax said.
Rem took over his statement, “But it took a lot of my energy to enchant it with the signature spell. It’ll work, no doubt.”
Bowaen shook his head and spread his hands on the table. “Is Damos your son?”
“No. But he’s just as valuable to me.”
“What’s so special about this kid?”
“I can’t tell you. Better to do as you’ve been asked.”
“Well, why should I care?” Bowaen’s voice rose. He had mostly kept his raspy voice low for as long as Kalea had been around him.
Rem’s eyes moved to Kalea, and she saw that their color had deepened, unless her imagination played tricks.
“Mr. Exaliss,” Dax said over crossed arms, “have you noticed an increase in the color red moving around the cities?”
Rem held Kalea’s stare as they listened. Kalea had noticed it. Rem knew.
“Maybe,” Bowaen said.
“Bowaen,” Kalea whispered, turning to him. He glanced at her for a brief second.
“Listen carefully,” Dax said. “There’s been an infiltration into the Lightlands.”
“An infiltration of what?”
“Sorcerers, Bowaen. Red is their faction color.”
Kalea reached out and grazed his arm. “Like Chandran,” she said. “Like the men who attacked my convent.”
Dax took everyone’s attention back. “They’ve charmed many bishops in high offices in the last decade or more. They’ve been given offices within the Sanctity of Creation, the religion we once revered. They have also befriended rich land owners—lords who hold offices for the king. And they’ve even wriggled their way into Wistara, the control center for the legions of knights and mages who are supposed to protect us.”
Bowaen’s face went grey. A clammy sweat formed under Kalea’s chemise. She’d known about Chandran and his schemes and she’d escaped her own convent raid, but hearing of the wider range of sorcerous activity was too much. Their homeland might never be the same.
Bowaen attempted another smirk, which showed up weakly. “You’re crazy.” He looked around before returning to Dax. “That’s why we have the big gate.”
“You mean Hanhelin’s Gate?” Dax glared at Bowaen over laced fingers. “They’ve found a way through. Even Rem is still trying to figure it out.”
“And so, you want me to find a kid—”
“Yes,” Lord Dax cut him off. “Damos. We need Damos alive.”
“I don’t know.” Bowaen crossed his arms over his broad chest. “The shock he gave me hurt like I never felt before. Might as well have been struck by lightning in a storm.”
“Learn to use my brother, the sword, and you won’t get shocked again,” Rem said suddenly.
Bowaen squinted and smirked at him. “Is he all right?” He jerked his head in Rem’s direction.
Dax tapped his flat palm on the table. It could’ve been louder, but he was clearly trying to keep his temper. “Bowaen, the task.”
“Lord Dax, I don’t think—” He stopped talking when Dax slid a fat coin purse across the table. Bowaen stared at it.
Rem winked at Kalea when her eyes drifted back to him.
“It’s all gold,” Dax said. “The Sanctified and the Grey Knights are offering six thousand silvers for his return. I’m offering more. This gold is in chip form so you can blend in to the Darklands better, should you need to.”
“The Darklands!” Bowaen half-stood up, scooting his chair out.
Dax raised his hand. “I said, should you need. Damos is traveling in a northerly direction, is he not?”
“He was,” Kalea said, “when we saw him fly away.”
Bowaen’s eyes pierced her.
“He’s serious about running away,” Dax said. “The best way to accomplish it would be to slip into the Darklands, if he can find a way.” Lord Dax leaned forward and rubbed his face. “Rem informed me of a weakness in the barrier. Somewhere, there must be an opening.”
All eyes shot to Rem, whose face had gone long and wan. “This is a matter of terrible urgency,” Rem said. “The Creator watches closely.”
“Why do you keep mentioning the Creator?” Kalea asked him, and his eyes fixed warmly on her.
“I’ve met Him, my dear.”
Kalea’s mouth dropped open.
Before she could say anything else, Dax reclaimed the attention again. “This is why we’re asking you, the greatest swordsman in the Lightlands.”
Bowaen made a fist with the ring settled around his fingertip. “Are you sure I’m the greatest?”
Rem stood and recited, “Bowaen Exaliss, former student of Wistara, kicked out for fighting in the dining room. Continued his training under Master Eingeld while also melting metals in Eingeld’s forge, developing a fascination with gold and silver. Served as a bouncer at the Dropped Hat for a while before his recruitment into the guard of Lord Elkin of Logardvy and fought a lot of bandits during his time guarding those gold mines, creating his dangerous reputation. Made quite a name for himself before deciding to retire and join the Wistara White Guild. Now the guild boasts having quite a dangerous runner to deliver their products. Too bad his real love lies in crafting the glittering baubles, not quite so much for dismantling a man’s face.”
Bowaen sat down slowly, gawking at Rem before sliding his eyes to the coin purse. “He reads a lot of records, doesn’t he?”
Rem grinned widely and sat after him. “Remember when you ran into Lord Elkin’s young wife behind the stables that one day?” Bowaen’s wide eyes glared at him this time as Rem sighed. “What a lovely day for a love story. She misses you, you might like to know. But don’t worry, the lord doesn’t know. And congratulations, Lord Elkin’s daughter is actually yours—”
“Fine! That’s enough, I’ll do it.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter, Bowaen,” Kalea said.
&
nbsp; “Neither did I,” he mumbled to his hands in his lap.
“Your secret is safe with us,” Rem murmured, and nudged the tray of biscuits toward Kalea again.
“You said you’d do it,” Dax said. “I knew Rem would convince you, I just didn’t expect him to do it so quickly. You’ll also be supplied with plenty of silver and copper chips to use as needed while you’re out. We’ll supply you well. When you bring Damos home, we’ll award you a greater amount—in gold.” Lord Dax took out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. “Be wary of the sorcerers.”
Kalea’s stomach bunched and her lips tightened at that word.
“The sorcerers,” Dax said, “are offering silver because they need gold for much of their spell casting. I’m offering you gold because to me it’s only money. I’m happy to part with it. Damos is worth more than gold. When you find him, don’t be tempted to give him over to anyone but my people.”
Bowaen grunted and reached for the coin purse. “He’s a reasonable kid, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Rem stood up again. “Take Kalea with you, if you don’t mind.”
Bowaen dropped the purse on the table. “Why her?”
“She’s a valuable asset.”
Rem reseated himself and held his hands out to her across the table. Instinct alone made her return his reach. He squeezed her hands in both of his and bounced them as if they were best friends. She hadn’t even been properly introduced. Why was he acting like this?
“Well,” Bowaen said, “she wanted to go north. I guess she would’ve been asking to go with me anyway.”
“It’s more than that,” Kalea said. When she turned to Rem again, she stuttered, and he waited for her words to align. “I don’t understand,” she finally got out.
“There’s too much to try to understand, my dear.”
All the confusing words and emotions choked her.
“You’ll have to excuse him,” Dax said. “It’s my great honor to be hosting Lord Rem. He’s a pivotal figure in our fight for the Lightlands. His vast…expertise is something we struggle to decode, though we’ve become used to it.”
Rem’s everlasting smile now appeared doll-like in its eerie blankness.
“Wait a minute,” Kalea said, getting a bit breathy. “What was that you said about meeting the One Creator?”
“I did meet him.” Rem bowed his head. “The Creator gave me a great gift.” He squeezed her hands. “He gave you one too.”
“Wh-what?”
“The Creator ordained much of this. In fact, He sent a spirit named Arius Medallus to tell you to follow Hathrohjilh, didn’t he?” He pronounced the long, strange name with the eloquence of a native Norrian speaker.
She nodded with her mouth hanging open and stood up. “So then—”
“My brother will lead you.”
When he motioned for her to sit, his sleeve fell past a gold bracelet around his forearm. Small spikes had been grafted to the insides of the bands, sticking into his skin and creating bruised spots in different shades of red and purple.
The painful sight closed her throat and stopped her voice. She eased back into her chair. When he reached for her hands again, she hesitated to relinquish them.
“I can’t help but sympathize with you. Go with Bowaen, and if you cross into the Darklands, look for my other brother, Ray.”
“Ray?”
“Yes. His full name is Adrayeth. He can help you better than I can. My head is swimming all the time; I can barely tolerate the Creator’s gift. But Ray understands things better than I. In truth, the gift the Creator gave me is also a divine curse. I’m trapped in this office and can’t send more than my sympathy with you, for I have been in love too, though it ended in sorrow.
“On the other hand, my brother, Adrayeth, is trapped on the other side of Hanhelin’s Gate. We can no longer contact each other, save for on special days. But you’ve found me, and if you can find him, you’ll also find your way. He can teach you much, and tell you where to go from there.”
“Oh.” So much was involved in his speech, she couldn’t decide which part to respond to. “Lord Rem.” She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for a saehgahn named Dorhen.”
Rem’s smile dropped. “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t go looking for any saehgahn. They’re nothing but trouble. Please, just look for my brother. He’ll know more than I.”
“Why can’t I go looking for him? What’s wrong?”
“An end, that’s what you’ll find. There’s nothing out there. Only the emptiness.” Rem closed his eyes and nodded his head repeatedly. “Follow the sword, yes, but look for my brother. It’s all you must do for now.”
Kalea’s heart hammered in her chest. He let go of her hands, and she finally opted to eat a biscuit in attempt to settle her stomach. A lemony flavor mingled with the sweet bread. A new smile formed on Rem’s lips and brightened to something more genuine than before as he watched her eat.
She swallowed the bite and cleared her throat. “Lord Rem, can’t you tell me if Dorhen is all right, though?”
He blinked. “Dorhen? Who is he?”
Kalea aborted her next bite. “He’s the one—”
“By the way, a bird landed on the windowsill this morning and told me the lilies have dispersed. Some of them were crushed underfoot, while others are waiting to be picked. Don’t you love the fragrance of lilies?”
“Um…”
“Lord Rem, my friends,” Dax said, standing up. “He has excellent ideas which he forgets a moment later; he knows one person’s name but not the other’s. And sometimes he goes on fabulous tangents we’ve taken to transcribing so we can decode them later.”
“Like the ecstasies of the saints,” Kalea said. “I’ve read lots of those.”
“Yes,” Dax said, snapping his fingers. “Exactly like those. Except Remenaxice never comes out of his ecstasy. It’s puzzling he has such an interest in you, though don’t be alarmed that he said anything somber. We’ve found he can be quite cryptic sometimes, and it’s common for him to lose his thought or get distracted.”
“Well, thank you, Lord Rem,” she said as he smiled over his folded hands.
“Don’t thank me.” With his elbows on the table, his sleeves had fallen to show his mangled skin under the bracelets again. She bit back her question as to why he wore those wicked bracelets.
Bowaen rose from his seat after pocketing Lord Dax’s ring and the fat coin purse from the table. Kalea and Rem stood too, and he reached for her hand again. “You have great ability, Kalea.”
“Thank you.” She turned her blushing face away.
“Norr,” Rem said. “Go to my homeland. Norr.”
Dax pointed to Bowaen after Rem’s words.
“We will,” Bowaen said.
Ever since that horrific episode, the dark had moved over Dorhen’s being like hundreds of snakes. He was lost in a bog-like place of thick mud. There wasn’t any air to breathe. Only darkness slithered down his windpipe, into his lungs, and all over the outside of his naked body. It, at least, seemed like his clothes weren’t there, and he had no way of telling. Clothes were the last thing that mattered. He couldn’t possibly tell where he was, where he’d been, how long he’d been here, or how to get out. He could see nothing. Nothing. It was a vast—or enclosed—nothingness. Maybe he was dead and buried, and the snakes were actually worms. They were still there, grazing across him, though he couldn’t see them.
Having these thoughts and observations was a good sign, though. A mental awareness strengthened the notion of his existence. He had even experienced brief snaps of wakefulness on occasion, quick blips of light now and again. The light was so bright, it hurt. Like fire. Sometimes he’d see the fiery eyes of Lamrhath in those flashes.
The snakes tickled, sometimes playfully. Wet and energetic like Selka’s mouth. Sometimes an aching arousal wracked him, and sometimes a deathly exhaustion oppressed him. The light streaks came and went, and he’d fall asleep, or dead, again.
And now here he was. That voice might return. The grating, hateful voice, the only companion he’d known for the last eternity. Or he might see another flash of light. Maybe Lamrhath’s eyes. No sexual bliss right now, though; those usually put him to sleep. If he resisted the seduction, he could possibly wake up. Next time. Next time, it would be different. He’d let no one touch him, neither women nor snakes. He’d fight.
He attempted to move his arms, to lift his head. The darkness weighed heavily on every part of him, similar to a layer of thick, heavy mud. At first, nothing happened. He couldn’t move. But he’d keep trying.
Chapter 29
Her Hands
Lord Dax ushered the visitors out of the high, round room.
“Lord Rem,” Kalea said over her shoulder before she reached the door leading into the narrow spiral stairwell, “are you coming to dinner?”
Standing beside the tea table, Lord Remenaxice spread his open hands. “I can’t,” he said.
“Don’t worry about him,” Dax said. “He doesn’t even eat. Anyway, he has work to do up here. Come to dinner, and tomorrow we’ll get you well-stocked for the journey.”
After a hot bath and a filling meal fit for a lord, Kalea and her friends were guided by candlelight through the manor’s dark, wood-paneled corridors to some private chambers, three in a row.
The butler, Erol, lingered with Kalea after Bowaen and Del said goodnight and retreated into their rooms. He patted her shoulder. “You’ve got warm milk by your bed, ready to be enjoyed. The garderobe is at the end of the hall, should you need it, and you’re welcome to browse the library if reading will help you sleep.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you.”
The butler moved on with his candle, leaving her in the light shining through the open door beside her.
Kalea inhaled deeply and went into her own room, closing the door behind her. Her first moment of solitude in a week. She tried not to think about Dorhen or the things Rem had said earlier. She’d leave with Bowaen again and continue her search as Arius Medallus had instructed. Pushing her elven sweetheart out of her head was impossible, though. Her mind had coiled so tight, she might never fall asleep. On the other hand, her body ached and sent tension running up the back of her neck and into her head.
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