by Anna Kashina
She didn’t know what would happen now or what they were going to do. But she knew that she was never going to let him get killed. Whatever the future held, they were bonded now. If he died, she’d have to die too.
8
A LESSON
“Just think, Your Highness,” Egey Bashi said. “What makes you capable of resisting the Kaddim power?”
Kyth thought about it.
“Focus,” he said. “Their power seems to make everything scatter. I am not doing it on purpose, but somehow I feel that by staying focused I can make it flow around me without affecting me.” He thought some more. “It feels like a blade,” he said. “A very sharp blade over the top of my head that slices their power like a net, making it fall to the sides without enfolding me.”
The Keeper nodded thoughtfully. Everyone else sat around watching in fascination, except Alder, who crouched at the side of the glade over his spiders. They ate fresh meat and could catch and kill small rodents. Kyth preferred not to dwell on what was happening right now next to his foster brother.
“I know the feeling,” Ellah said. “When I use my gift, I see colors, blue if someone says the truth and red when they tell a lie. It took many lessons with Mother Keeper to bring this ability under control.”
Kyth frowned. He couldn’t control his gift much. Except for the fact that he was always immune to the Kaddim, his ability just came and went, seemingly on its own. The Keepers told him his power was in elemental magic, a rare ability that had all but disappeared since the times of the Old Empire. True, he could sometimes focus the power of the wind or water to aid his swordplay, but overall it wasn’t as impressive as it sounded.
“What about when you protect others?” Egey Bashi asked.
Kyth glanced at Raishan. He and Mai were the only two people he had ever protected from the Kaddim to enable them to fight. “It’s kind of the same,” he said. “I imagine an invisible spearhead I can control, which cuts through their power like a knife through a net. It takes effort to slice their power away. When I first tried to do it I had no idea it would work so well.”
Lady Celana cleared her throat in that special way of inborn royalty, drawing everyone’s eyes without saying anything or making any loud sounds.
“Prince Kythar,” she said, “was able to draw away all the Kaddim troops during the battle in my father’s castle. It looked quite different from what you describe, Your Highness.”
Kyth raised his eyebrows. He’d almost forgotten about that incident – not because it was insignificant, but because it was too traumatic to think about. Back then, the Kaddim had cornered and almost killed Kara. And Kyth hadn’t been able to do anything to save her, until it was almost too late. He shivered as the memories flowed in.
The person who had saved her back then was Mai, who was somehow able to overcome the Kaddim power in the middle of the fight. Kyth had no idea how he was able to do it. And now, unwittingly, he remembered Nimos’s words. His feelings for her... Could Mai have overcome the Kaddim because of his feelings for Kara?
Was this why Kyth was immune too?
He forced away the thought. Nimos was their enemy, trying to wedge discord among them. He would never give in to that.
“You are right, my lady,” he said to Celana. “That was different. That time, I was able to use the Kaddim power the same way I use the elements – to help me fight. I focused their power against them. No imaginary blades involved.”
It was fascinating to watch how this refined royal lady blushed every time he looked at her directly. Did she really find him attractive? He found it hard to believe. She looked so much more impressive than him, her heart-shaped face, porcelain skin, and clear green eyes accented by rich auburn hair, its waves flowing around her head like a flame. Even her riding outfit, a plain pants suit of deep forest green, looked like an exquisite royal gown, simply because of the refined way she wore it. Next to her, Kyth in his plain clothes – as well as just about everyone else in the group – looked downright shabby.
“Still,” Egey Bashi said. “It’s all part of the same power. We must identify a common element in all this, and develop it. Aghat Raishan,” he turned to the Majat. “What did it feel like to you when Prince Kythar protected you from the Kaddim?”
Raishan appeared to consider it.
“It did feel kind of like a blade,” he admitted. “As if I were enfolded in a fog and then a blade descended and cut the fog away.”
Kyth nodded. “Yes, fog sounds right. Except I could see the strings this fog consisted of, making it seem more like a very thick and wooly spider’s web.” Inadvertently, he glanced at Alder crouching on the ground. His eyes slid further, to the furry shapes crawling at his feet. The spiders were nearly as big as the rodents they ate. He shivered. Being the emissary from the Forestlands came with a price; he just hoped his foster brother was happy with it.
“I wonder,” Raishan said, “how Kara and Aghat Mai were able to acquire this resistance on their own?”
Kyth’s heart quivered as the subject was brought up again. He glanced at Egey Bashi, expecting to see a puzzled look. His heart sank as he met the Keeper’s intense gaze.
“You know, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
The Keeper nodded. “Yes, to the extent I can pry into a Majat’s mind. Their training develops very deep focus on its own. It takes less for a Diamond Majat to cover the gap and acquire the necessary level of focus to resist the Kaddim. Much less so than for an ordinary person.”
His feelings for her. Kyth forced Nimos’s words to quieten in his head. “Can Raishan learn to do it too?”
“I hope so. This is why we are rushing these lessons, Your Highness. If you and Aghat Raishan can work this out by the time we reach the Majat Guild–”
Ellah’s look cut him off.
“There’s something you are hiding, Magister, isn’t there?” she said. “You know more about it than you lead Kyth to believe.”
The Magister frowned. “Whatever else I know is not relevant here. I know lots of things. Telling the Prince everything I know would do nothing but confuse him.”
Ellah shook her head. “No, I can sense something different, Magister. The way you sound... it seems like a lie. Sorry.”
Egey Bashi sighed. “Your training is good,” he said. “But you are wrong in this case. I am not lying. It’s just that, in some situations, knowing all the details can only make things worse, believe me.”
“Worse?” Kyth asked.
“Can’t we just leave it be, Your Highness?”
Kyth shivered. “It’s about feelings, isn’t it? What Nimos said about Mai. He was telling the truth, wasn’t he?”
Egey Bashi’s shoulders sagged. He didn’t hurry to break the silence.
Kyth’s eyes darted to Ellah. “Was he telling the truth?”
Ellah hesitated. “I don’t think my ability to sense the Kaddim–”
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
Kyth receded into his seat. He felt numb and angry, as he looked back at the Magister.
“You knew, didn’t you? And you weren’t going to tell me.”
The Keeper sighed again. “Telling you wouldn’t have served any purpose, Your Highness. Besides, it’s not even important.”
“Not important?”
“Kara does not share these feelings. She is not aware of them. And, knowing Aghat Mai’s self-control, it is very likely she never will be.”
Kyth felt a weakness in his stomach. Deep inside, he knew Egey Bashi was right. And yet, thinking of Kara out there, chasing a man who had feelings for her, seemed like too much. He prayed Mai was moving too fast for Kara to catch him on the road.
Egey Bashi sat up. “I guess now that we’re talking about it, I can explain further. The only thing I know so far that could give a Diamond the necessary focus is being in love. Kara was in love with Prince Kythar when she first encountered the Kaddim. The way it was described to me, how she initially wavered under their power an
d then recovered, suggests that she probably realized it in the middle of a fight.” He looked at Kyth, clearly hoping for a reaction Kyth was unable to give. She was in love with him. She had been, once, before she broke up with him so that she could run off with a man, who... who...
Kyth’s lips twitched. “What about Mai? He wasn’t immune to the Kaddim when I first defended him against them. I know he wasn’t pretending. They nearly killed him that time. They would have cut off his arms if I hadn’t interfered in the nick of time.”
Egey Bashi shrugged. “Not that it matters, Your Highness, but I think I witnessed the moment when he realized he was in love – during the fight in Illitand Hall, when he stepped into the stream of Kaddim power to save Kara.”
“In love,” Kyth echoed. His feelings for her. Nimos was right all along. And Egey Bashi had known about it and hadn’t said anything.
The Keeper watched him intently.
“I fail to see why this upsets you so much, Prince Kythar,” he said. “She acquired her resistance to the Kaddim because of her love for you. I don’t think you have any reason to worry on Aghat Mai’s accord.”
Kyth lowered his eyes. Most likely this was true. And yet, the way Kara looked at Mai, the way she receded into his company whenever she needed comfort, had made him feel disconcerted on more than one occasion. Mai had a way of stirring these feelings in many women, but to Kyth’s knowledge there was never any reason behind it, besides Mai’s natural glamour that women of all stations somehow found so irresistible. His apparent lack of interest in women was what made him trustworthy in Kyth’s eyes where Kara was concerned. To know that he was in love with her...
He felt intensely uncomfortable now, with the way everyone was looking at him uneasily, but worst of all was Lady Celana, whose deep green eyes held such compassion that he felt he had earned it already. He had nothing to worry about, he told himself. Mai’s station in his Guild made it impossible for him to act on his feelings, even if he ever dropped the control that made him such an unmatched fighter.
It was all Nimos’s fault. The Kaddim had stirred up these doubts in Kyth’s mind. It felt no better to think that this was probably the main reason for his appearance on the road, to wedge this doubt and force Kyth to think of Mai as a rival.
For this reason alone, he should control his feelings and never let himself act differently toward Mai. Besides, all these doubts were probably foolish. Kara had never given him any reason to think she fancied Mai – or anyone else for that matter. While Kyth knew he was not her first man, he believed himself to be the first she felt bonded to, and they would share this bond no matter what the future held.
“Let’s all get some sleep,” Egey Bashi said. “We need to start early tomorrow.”
Raishan glanced at the sky. “Tomorrow we should reach Middledale.”
Alder looked up from his spiders. “I hope we can spend the night there. Their inn is built on hot springs and has a private bath in every room.”
Kyth could see both Ellah and Celana lift their heads in anticipation. A bath did sound good after nearly ten days of non-stop riding.
But the Keeper only shook his head. “Tomorrow’s the last day of the Lantern Festival. Every house and inn in town will be fully occupied. I believe we should camp just before reaching town.” He noticed the ladies’ forlorn expressions. “We can go there in the morning to make a short stop for a bath without spending the night.”
Raishan nodded. “True. I once passed through Middledale on an assignment during the Lantern Festival. Despite the enormous credit the Majat Guild runs with their inn, I had to sleep in the stable.”
Egey Bashi rose and went to the heap of bedrolls, picking out his own.
“If we sleep early both days,” he said, “we should make perfect speed.”
Kyth nodded. It made sense, just like everything else Egey Bashi had said this evening. In all the time he had known the Keeper, he had learned to trust him unconditionally. Only someone like Nimos could wedge doubt into this trust, and he was determined not to let the Kaddim Brother’s words affect him.
If only he could be certain the Keeper was right about everything else. He looked at the terrain ahead, thinking of Kara, out there by herself, following Mai into their Guild. Was she as tired right now as he felt?
Did she manage to overtake Mai and ride with him?
He forced the thought away.
9
THE LANTERN FESTIVAL
Kara woke up at dawn. At first she couldn’t remember where she was. It was a strange feeling – one she hadn’t experienced for years – of waking up from a sleep so deep that it took her a few moments to gather her thoughts.
She was lying naked on a sleeping cot, wrapped in a long, silky cloak down to her toes. Its cloth was black, and at first it didn’t seem familiar. Then she caught the smell, a barely perceptible scent of mountain pine. Her heart raced as she inhaled it.
She sat up and looked around. The camp was empty, but a thin wisp of smoke rose from the firepit, suggesting that somebody had already spent effort to start a fire. Her clothes were folded in a neat pile next to her head. She grabbed them and pulled the cloak tighter around herself.
A movement from the direction of the brook caught her eye. As she watched, Mai emerged from behind the thin line of bushes looking neat and elegant, quite undisturbed, except for damp hair and a slightly drawn face. He returned her gaze with an air of guarded silence, as if waiting for her to make the first move. They were silent for a moment, looking at each other.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said.
A smile slid through his lips, but his eyes remained in shadow. She had a feeling he expected her to say something else, but he had already moved away and busied himself with the fire.
She got up, careful to keep the cloak tight around herself, and walked over to the brook. Finding a deeper pond of water, she took time to wash herself, submerging into the cool, transparent pool to soak off the dreamy feeling of last night. She felt strange. She still wasn’t sure what had driven her to behave the way she had, but it was hard to let go of the memory. She could easily lose herself in it if she allowed her thoughts to flow.
She cut them off. Stepping out of the water, she dried off in the cool morning breeze, then dressed up and walked back to camp.
Mai was sitting across from her, attending to the fire. As she approached, he looked up with the same guarded expression.
She folded up his cloak and put it down over his bedroll, then sat across from him, holding his gaze. He handed her a mug of tea and she took it, unthinkingly sipping the tart, hot liquid, too strong for her taste.
She felt so confused. What happened last night wasn’t supposed to happen, she told herself again and again. Despite how good it felt, it wasn’t meant to be. He was her senior in the Guild, and their training made any bonds all but impossible. What she had with Kyth had been pleasant but wrong, and people had suffered for it. And now–
Mai wasn’t looking at her, but she sensed how alert he was of her every move.
“About last night…” she said.
He looked up. Their gazes locked.
“I– I shouldn’t have…” She paused, unable to go on.
His gaze wavered. “It was my fault. I lost control. Please forgive me.”
She felt a lump in her throat, but ignored it. It wasn’t meant to be. They weren’t meant for this.
“We both lost it,” she said quietly, “didn’t we?”
His gaze was unreadable as he looked up at her. It seemed that he was about to say something, but then fell silent.
“It can’t continue,” she said, her voice sinking to a near whisper. “We both know it mustn’t happen again.”
A shadow stirred in his eyes, a barely perceptible movement that for a moment made him appear vulnerable. His direct gaze made her heart quiver. Then he sat back, subsiding into calmness.
“I toasted bread,” he said. “Why don’t you have some?”
She took a warm crispy piece from him, conscious to keep clear of his hand. She wasn’t sure she could handle it if she touched him. And, she couldn’t afford to lose her mind again. They were headed toward certain death, all because of her. All because of her inability to control herself before.
They ate in silence, the calmness around him almost palpable, like an invisible armor. His gaze slid over her with outward indifference, but she still sensed the intensity inside.
“I feel I must ask you the same question again,” he said. “Is there anything I can do that would convince you not to come with me?”
She met his gaze. “My answer’s still the same. The only thing you can do is to show me the Guildmaster’s letter to prove your return to the Guild has nothing to do with me.”
He reached into his pack and took out the folded parchment. Keeping his eyes on her, he threw it into the fire.
She gasped and rushed forward, but before she could even take a step, his staff was in his hand, pointing her way. He slid a hand over it and a blade sprung out toward her, its steel point hovering near her throat.
There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he kept her gaze. She swallowed, glancing down at the blade that almost touched her skin. Seeing it this way brought back bad memories. Last time, when he defeated her and made everyone believe she was dead, his blade hit her at exactly the same point, between the collarbones. Viper’s kiss. She suppressed a shiver. “Viper” was the name of Mai’s token rune in the Majat Guild. He had invented that blow. And now, when she learned what his real kisses were like, she was having too much trouble dealing with it.
This is madness. Stop it. Focus. She glanced at the parchment. The fire turned it over, licking the crumpling surface with long red tongues. The sharp letters of the Guildmaster’s handwriting melted away in front of her eyes, slowly consumed by the flame.
She didn’t want to fight Mai again. Not with real blades. But even if she fought him now, she would never make it in time before the letter burned.