Apostate: Forbidden Things

by Nikki Mccormack

  “Emperor Yiloch.”

  Yiloch cringed inwardly. He hadn’t seen Lady Auryl since she saw him with Indigo in the throne room. The two women may have come to some kind of understanding, but he doubted that would extend to him. The last thing he wanted now was to have an argument with her here. However, when he turned to face her, the alarm in her expression banished his dread at seeing her. Concern swept in to fill the space.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was asking after Captain Adran and a soldier just arrived with word from Lord Terral that someone saw the captain depart on a ship yesterday in the company of a strange Lyran man. Lord Terral expressed concern. He said Myac might have been around the city and was worried that Adran could be in considerable danger.”

  Sudden nausea hit Yiloch like a blow to the gut. Adran had no power beyond that of a sword or bow to use against Myac. The adept, given a moment’s chance, could easily overpower him. Killing a man like Adran alone would be akin to stepping on an ant for someone of Myac’s power.

  “When did the ship leave and where was it bound?”

  “The ship left yesterday afternoon. According to the register, it was bound for Kilty.”

  “If Myac wanted him dead, why not just kill him here? Why go to the trouble of taking him away like that?” Ian asked, a distinct tremor in his voice.

  Yiloch placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder, both giving and taking comfort from the gesture. The creator had already lost one of his two cousins and Eris had been a lifelong friend to Yiloch. Neither of them was ready to lose Adran as well.

  Hax answered the question for him. “Everything I know about Myac tells me he always has more sinister motives. Just killing someone is rarely entertaining enough.”

  Yiloch glanced at Ian, wondering if he looked as unnaturally pale as the creator did. “You spoke with Indigo. Where is she?”

  “She left for the docks a little before dawn, after we finished with the ring.”

  “The…” He touched the ring under his shirt absently. They had worked the ring together just as Ian and Ferin had worked to create the ring he gave to her. Then she had gone, leaving him that token of her affection. A consolation prize in case she didn’t return. Unfortunately, she no longer had the added protection from the ring he had given her. “I expect you to explain why you didn’t think to question her clandestine departure later. Right now, I need to figure out what to do about Adran.”

  “Go after him,” Lady Auryl stated. “Go find Lord Captain Adran… and Lady Indigo.”

  Yiloch frowned. If she only knew how much he wanted to do exactly that. If not for the Grey Army and the Dursik un Kar who were taking a chance to rest before starting the trek back to Kudan. If not for the damaged state of Yiroth, of Lyra in general, he might dare to go chasing after them. “I can’t. There are things to be done…”

  “You can,” Hax interrupted.

  He turned an irritated glare on her, which she met with an obstinate return glare before Auryl jumped into the silence.

  “She’s right.” Auryl took his hand in both of hers, squeezing it in earnest. “Put Lord Terral in charge again.” She shook her head to stop his objection and he held his silence, wanting to find a way to make it work. “If you promise to send him back to his manor when this is done, he will not disappoint you. He never shared his son’s ambitions. I have spoken to him enough to be sure of that much. Your captains can keep an extra close watch over him if you feel it is necessary. Commander Hax can oversee military affairs without you for a short time. Whether you fail or succeed, you will not be gone long.”

  Yiloch started to protest then stopped himself. Regardless of whether what she suggested was appropriate or not, he believed she was right. He needed to do this. The two people he loved most were in danger. “You are a greater woman than you seem.”

  Lady Auryl shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, tears sparkled in them. “I do this for them. They both need you right now more than anyone here does. Yiloch the emperor is nothing if he is not first a man who cares deeply for the people around him. Get them and bring them back here where they belong.”

  “Might I suggest that you take Ian and a few guards with you,” Hax commented, assuming that his departure was decided. “You can travel in disguise that way. Get into and out of Caithin without anyone knowing you were there.”

  Yiloch nodded. “Hax, send someone to summon Lord Terral and to secure passage across the Gilded Straight. Ian, find an adept or two who can speed the trip. I doubt either Myac or Indigo will have paid with coin when they can barter their abilities. We need to move fast.”

  •

  Within an hour, Yiloch stood at the bow of a ship as it turned out across the Gilded Strait. Rain drizzled down on them, light, like a fine mist, but still drenching. It was warm enough and Yiloch wasn’t about to go below. He wanted to see the Kilty docks the moment they came into view. Wanted to be ready to disembark. His mind raced with the many possible reasons why Myac would have taken Adran with him. None of them were good. The least horrible was that he meant to ransom Adran for something, but even that possibility came with no guarantee the captain would return unharmed.

  Someone stepped up beside him. He didn’t need to look to know it was Ian. The rain had stopped touching him and he was instantly dry, clothes and all.

  “We’ll need to find Indigo first. She’ll be able to track down Myac faster than either of us can and she has the power to fight him.”

  Yiloch nodded. His hand came up to trace the shape of the ring under his shirt. “What did you two do to this ring?”

  “We worked protections into it. Some powerful masking and a defensive barrier against ascard attack. Indigo figured out a way to make the ring absorb and reuse offensive powers so the barriers and masking will actually get stronger if you’re attacked with ascard. It’s quite brilliant,” Ian said, admiration bubbling up in his voice.

  Yiloch nodded, pride in her accomplishments warming some of the cold dread within him. If only she were with them now. They would have to risk her to find Adran, but he would do anything to save his old friend and Ian was right, she was the one person who might overpower Myac. They would have to outthink the other adept though. One mistake was all the opening the bastard would need to rain misery down on them.

  “I remember the last time we made this trip,” Ian said. “Despite the pending conflict with your father, the journey felt much less dire then.”

  Yiloch nodded. The weight that bore him down grew heavier with each moment that passed. “Yes. At least Adran was with us then.”

  “Yes,” Ian murmured, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own fears.

  “And you were still afraid of me,” Yiloch added with a sideways glance in an attempt to lift the mood.

  Ian chuckled. “That hasn’t changed. You still scare me.”

  They both managed to smile at that, but only for an instant.

  The rain let up by the time they pulled into the docks in Kilty. The adepts Ian brought with them to speed the ship stayed aboard to await their return. They were both exhausted from their efforts and needed the rest. The captain, now well ahead of his planned schedule, agreed to wait one day for their return. Yiloch ordered the guards to wait with the ship. The fewer people who made the trip into Demin, the less attention they would draw and the guards were more likely than not to end up casualties in a confrontation with Myac. If something went wrong, the guards would return with the ship to notify Terral and Hax.

  They secured a carriage to take them into Demin and Ian spent the journey focusing on his link to Indigo. Yiloch held his silence. He felt nothing of her through his own link, but he didn’t have the knowledge nor the expendable strength to focus on searching for her. Ian shook his head in frustration. They were almost in Demin now and a decision had to be made.

  “I can’t reach her. She must be thoroughly shielded. Even the link is blocked.”

  Yiloch scowled. “
She isn’t expecting us so she’s closed down all possible points of vulnerability. We’ll go to the Healer’s Academy. She’s apt to be either there or in the palace and Myac is more likely to be at the academy with his fellow conspirator.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll sneak in and feel things out. You stay out of sight. You’re a wanted criminal here, after all.”

  Yiloch raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like sending Ian into danger in his stead. “And if you need help?”

  “I can use ascard to alert you if I sense trouble. I’ll be careful.”

  Yiloch clenched his teeth. They didn’t want to draw attention and he would draw a lot as himself. Even in disguise, two men wandering the academy at this hour might attract unwanted attention. Still, it felt like too much risk given what was already at stake.

  “Perhaps you could continue to disguise me.”

  Ian shook his head. “I thought of that. It would take a lot of energy to disguise you and mask the working well enough that Myac wouldn’t notice it. I don’t think we can afford to waste powers right now.”

  Yiloch scowled, tracing the ornate crossguard of his sword with one fingertip. Lifting the curtain enough to peak out the carriage window, he watched the city approach. As they neared the outer guard post, the carriage came to a stop. For the purpose of getting into the city, Ian did disguise them, masking his working so the city’s ascard Watchmen wouldn’t be aware of it. The guards passed them through and the carriage driver called back to ask where he should drop them.

  “The Caithin Healer’s Academy,” Yiloch called back out the window. He turned to Ian. “We’ll do it your way, but be ready to send the summons. Myac isn’t someone we want to underestimate.”

  “I know.” Ian drew in a deep breath. His heavy exhale was rife with sorrow and dread.

  “I won’t give up on Adran.”

  “Yes. I know that too. It’s one of many reasons I’m pleased to be in your service.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Caplin was weary. He was weary more often than not these days. He had spent the evening playing dice with several of the off-duty guardsman and his father. Gavin was as clever at the game as his servants were at filling empty mugs without being noticed and they all found themselves walking away empty handed and well liquored while King Gavin chuckled his way back to the palace with his winnings. For the duration of the game, Caplin’s worries were reduced to distant naggings. Now, with alcohol numbing his body, he made his way back towards the palace proper and those worries emerged in sharp relief from the rest of his blurry thoughts.

  What was happening in Lyra?

  No further word had come from Theron. Would the next missive be a notification of victory or would they get a sudden rush of refugees from the fallen empire? It was maddening to sit here waiting. Indigo was over there, somewhere in that war torn country. What would happen to her if the invaders won? Why hadn’t they sent aid to Lyra? The council remained too divided on the subject, but, ultimately, Gavin could have overridden their uncertainty. As king, the final word was his. As the king’s son, perhaps he should have leveraged his position. Was it too late to influence the outcome now?

  By the time he arrived in his rooms, he felt much too sober for the amount of drink he’d had. Andrea was already sleeping soundly. He stared at her for a moment. She was beautiful. Her lips parted a little in sleep, her brow furrowing with some dreamtime drama. He did love her. It wasn’t the same love he felt for Indigo, but it was love.

  Stripping off his clothes, he put out the candles she had left burning for him and climbed into the bed, careful not to wake her. For some time, he stared at the canopy over the bed and considered waking her for some pleasant distraction. But, his thoughts were still too wrapped in Indigo. It wouldn’t be the first time he made love to her while thinking of the other woman, but he truly was trying not to make a habit out of it.

  With a soft sigh, he rolled over and managed to drift off into a restless slumber.

  Sometime later, he stirred in his sleep. Someone was calling his name in his head, like a voice in a dream, but more insistent. He tried rolling over, but the voice remained, pulling at him, asking him to wake. Irritated, he opened his eyes a fraction. Candles in the wall sconces on his side of the room flickered and someone now stood beside the bed.

  What was Andrea doing awake at this hour… and wearing a traveling cloak?

  Panic hit him like a punch to the chest and his eyes popped open wide. It wasn’t Andrea standing there. Sitting up, he opened his mouth to call the guards, then stopped as the figure pulled back the hood of the cloak. He knew he must look a fool with his mouth hanging open, but he couldn’t seem to help it. What he was seeing made no sense. Perhaps it was a very vivid dream?

  A few blinks and a bite to the inside of his lip did nothing to change things. The figure standing in his chambers in the flickering light of the candles was Indigo. Her face stayed mostly in shadow, but there was no mistaking who she was. He’d known her most of his life.

  I should call the guards.

  He started to pull back the covers, then hesitated, glancing at the robe that lay pooled on the floor a few feet away. Following his gaze, Indigo reached down, gathered the fine fabric with one hand, and passed it to him. Then she moved away, going to stand in the sitting area by the fireplace with her back to him. His heart racing, Caplin stood, drawing on the robe and tying it tight before walking over to join her. As soon as he approached, she turned to face him and the fire crackled to life along with the nearest candles. He flinched, startled by the show of forbidden power, and glanced at the bed where Andrea was still sleeping.

  “Don’t worry, she won’t wake so long as I am here. I’m glad you two went through with the marriage.”

  Caplin turned back to Indigo, his love for her a twisting ache in his chest despite the vast distance that had built up between them. He longed to hug her, to feel her soft warmth in his embrace, but so much had happened since she disappeared. She was a criminal. The initial impulse to call in the guards was the right one, especially considering that she had somehow managed to get into his private chambers unchallenged. He wasn’t ready to do the right thing yet.

  In the flickering light, he noticed the elegant lines of a tattoo on one cheek and there were three beaded braids in her hair. Braids were a mourning custom in Caithin, but these were different. They meant something in some culture, but his mind was still too foggy with sleep and drink for him to draw it out. He met her eyes and squinted, trying to determine, in the dim light, if something in those blue depths had changed as well.

  What other powers does she have?

  He glanced at the fire then considered the woman standing in front of him with a new, wary respect.

  What else might have changed beneath the surface? She had killed Jayce. The ascard signature the Watchmen found in his charred body proved that much. She had stopped his heart with her power. He couldn’t bring himself to hold that against her, though it did make him even more wary of her. She had also freed Emperor Yiloch and Lord Ferin, though the reasons for that were still unknown. What else might she have done since her departure? What events had led to the odd tattoo and the braids in her hair.

  She met his eyes, letting him look at her. Undisturbed by his open scrutiny. “Much has happened since I last left you here, Caplin.”

  He took a step closer and brought a hand up toward her face, then hesitated. When she made no move to discourage the gesture, he caressed her cheek with his thumb, not quite touching the tattoo. “I can’t say I’m fond of this. It looks…” he trailed off, still struggling to pull the reference from his clouded mind.

  “Kudaness,” she offered. “I am a priest of the Kudaness.”

  His hand dropped to his side and he took a step back, that initial sense of alarm sweeping back in with dizzying force.

  “Much has happened,” he agreed, placing a hand on the back of a nearby chair for support. He found it hard to look into those piercing e
yes now. There was so much strength and confidence in that gaze. Had she always been this strong? Had he simply overlooked it in his arrogance? “I should be arresting you, you know. When no word came back from Lord Edan, we weren’t sure if we should initiate military action. Then word came of another army invading Lyra and we decided to wait and see how that played out. We sent Lord Theron instead, and waited for his report. I didn’t believe it when his message came back saying you were in Kudan. I guess it was true after all.”

  “I’ve spoken with Theron. The war has ended and Yiroth still stands. He will be back within the next few days, I’m sure.”

  “Why didn’t you wait and come back with him? He could have protected you, assuming you should be protected.”

  There was a small tightening around her lips at his words, but she only shook her head and gestured to a chair with one hand. “Please sit, Caplin.” The firelight illuminated flecks of flame in her eyes. “We have some things to talk about.”

  He nodded and, despite the sudden feeling that he had wandered unwittingly into the lair of a highly superior predator, he sat with her. This was not the woman he thought he knew, but then, Yiloch had said as much to him a long time ago. Now was he beginning to wish he had heeded the other man’s words more carefully.

  Forcing himself to meet her eyes, he said, “I’m listening.”

  •

  Adran clawed his way to awareness. His head was full of a thick, sticky fog that caught and tangled his thoughts like insects bound up in a spider’s web. He moved to rub his eyes only to discover that his hands were unable to obey him. For a few frustrating moments, his eyelids also refused to obey him. Then they crept open and he glanced around him into a deep darkness. Wherever he was, there were no lights to orient him, no glimmers of reality to ground him and assuage his fear. Tactile sense was painfully acute in the darkness. As his thoughts struggled to break through the fog, he tried to move again, but his arms and legs were bound to the chair he was sitting in and a rope around his chest held him so tight against the back of the chair that it restricted his breathing.