And, of course, there were the warlocks. Now that he’d killed Kristof, there would certainly be repercussions.
Because Devenish wouldn’t let this slide . . .
CHAPTER 15
Plink.
Another drop of water fell from the ceiling onto the floor.
Plink.
They were dripping from somewhere, and Vasile watched them fall. He’d lost count of how many somewhere after three hundred. His eyes hurt from following the droplets, and he massaged the back of his aching neck with one hand, grunting with pleasure.
By the ancestors, he needed a drink. And chicken poached in spiced cream, accompanied by an onion tart, finished with glazed strawberries and a piping-hot custard flavored with vanilla and toffee. Vasile’s stomach rumbled at the thought.
There’d been no sign of anyone coming to release them. Their jailers had come and gone. And after a particularly spiteful visit yesterday, even Caitlyn had left them alone. Their cell had no window to the outside. Time was measured in sloppy meals, the jailers’ shifts, and bowel movements.
Vasile stretched his back, grunting at the soreness that had crept in.
“Thank you for leaping to my defense with Caitlyn,” Aidan said wryly.
“What did you want me to do? She’s crazy. They both are.”
“Yes. She’s been driven mad, poor woman. But I put a crossbow bolt in her. The building was on fire. And they told me she was dead . . .”
He doesn’t want to face Caitlyn. He’s still haunted by what he did to her. “‘Poor woman’?” said Vasile. “You’ve taken leave of your senses as well. What about us?”
“I knew her before all of this. When she was determined and idealistic.”
Vasile’s hands gripped Aidan’s shoulders. Aidan’s eyes were crinkled with concern, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line.
“What she was,” Vasile said, “what caused her to begin her crusade against injustice and evil . . . that woman is long gone. I’ve seen it before, in my time as a magistrate. People start out with the best of intentions, and somehow, somewhere along the way, they make a choice that starts them down a different path. Then they make another bad choice, and so it goes. Soon they find they’re stuck in a situation they can’t see a way out of, wholly of their own making.”
“It shouldn’t have happened to her,” said Aidan. “She was stronger than that.”
“Maybe that’s all she showed you. People can put on a decent front, but inside they can still be broken. You don’t know her innermost thoughts. Everyone has demons.”
“That’s all too true. As I’ve seen. Some demons are worse than others. Maybe I was wrong to shoot her. What if I was the one who was deceived?”
“I don’t believe that,” Vasile said. “And all the wishing you do won’t change a thing. You can’t alter the past.”
Aidan pushed Vasile’s hands off him and stood. He brushed down his pants and shirt, failing to remove most of the grime that had accumulated over their stay in the cell so far, and not doing much to iron out the creases either.
“No,” said Aidan. “But I can change the future. We need to get out of this cell and deal with Caitlyn.”
“Be careful. You don’t want to travel down the same dark path she did.”
MADNESS SHONE FROM Caitlyn’s eyes. Where, before Aidan shot her, it had been a mere spark, something fleeting, seen only briefly, it was now a bonfire. Droplets of spit flew from her mouth as she screamed, her expression twisted with hatred.
“Was it gold? What was it? Did they promise you power?”
Sitting on the floor with his back against the cold stone wall, Aidan shook his head. He rubbed his eyes. A tired ache was creeping into his mind from the constant battering of Caitlyn’s words. This was the third time today she’d come to see him, each time trailed by cel Rau. And all she did was yell and accuse him of succumbing to evil, no matter how much he protested the opposite. Their jailer accepted a few ducats from her when she came and kept to himself, sitting on a low stool out of the way. So intent was Caitlyn, she failed to notice the man roll his eyes at some of her worse haranguing—but cel Rau did. His penetrating gaze missed nothing, and Vasile paled when the swordsman glared at him.
As usual when Caitlyn had appeared, Vasile edged to the back of their cell and tried becoming a statue.
“You were dead,” said Aidan. “I killed you. I was told you were dead.”
“They were simply following my orders. I told them to tell you I was dead. If you thought I was alive, you might have come back to finish the job. See, I still commanded their loyalty, whatever you may have thought. Not everyone’s a turncoat. Not everyone succumbs to evil. And for your betrayal, I’ll see you hang, you bastard.”
Caitlyn’s words struck home and stirred something inside Aidan. If he didn’t do something, and soon, she could very well be right. He’d be swinging from a rope like a ham in a butcher’s shop.
“It was you,” he said.
“What was that? Confess, and I’ll make sure they’re lenient with you. A swift death.”
“It was you,” Aidan repeated, this time louder. Strength began to return to his limbs at the thought of doing something, anything, in response to Caitlyn’s accusations and badgering. “Your actions turned me from the path you were following.”
Caitlyn sneered at him. “Lies and more lies. Was anything you ever said to me the truth?”
“You lost your way,” Aidan continued, voice rising. “The evil we confronted, that you saw so much more of . . . it twisted you. In the beginning, I noticed small things . . . roughing up a farmer to get information. It made me uneasy, but I thought no harm was done. No lasting harm. And we got what we wanted. A tiny discomfort weighed against the return. Easily justified, though with some misgivings and missed sleep. But as time went on, you became worse and worse. Torture, Caitlyn? Of people who were innocent?”
Caitlyn glanced at Vasile. “There are no innocents—”
“Yes, yes, there are. Your moral compass has failed you. It did a long time ago. I just couldn’t see it. Our cause, and what we accomplished, blinded me too much.”
“The sickness of evil can’t be treated; it has to be cut out.”
“Not along with those unwittingly caught up in it. Those with no choice in the matter.”
“Wheat from the chaff, Aidan. You know that.”
Aidan sighed wearily. “Not everyone is as strong as you. Or me. These are ordinary people who only wish to be left alone, to live as peacefully as they can.”
“Left alone to help jukari or vormag?”
“For the safety of their families. Their wives. Their children. Sometimes you have to surrender in order to protect those most dear to you.”
“I would never surrender to evil.”
And Aidan realized she was right. She would never bend. Never compromise. Never consider that the ends sometimes didn’t justify the means. Anything was on the table, no matter the wreckage left in her wake. It was why he’d had to kill her. Almost kill her . . .
It was why he had to finish the task.
“Leave me,” Aidan demanded.
“I’ll go when I’m—”
“Get out!” Aidan shouted. “I’ll not going to listen to your demented raving any longer! Leave us be.”
She backed away a step. “Tomorrow, it’s all over for you, Aidan. Tomorrow.” Caitlyn turned her back on him, slowly, a deliberate gesture, then left the cell.
Leaving them alone with cel Rau.
Far from relieved, the magistrate pressed his back against the wall and wrung his hands in front of him.
“Aidan,” said cel Rau.
Aidan’s heart thumped in his chest as he steeled himself for a fight. “I suppose you’ve thrown your lot in with Caitlyn,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Cel Rau,” Vasile said desperately. “Get us out of here! Caitlyn . . . whatever she once was to you . . . she isn’t sane!”
Cel Rau glanced at Vasile, t
hen away, as if dismissing him, then turned a cool look on Aidan. “Caitlyn hasn’t been able to bring herself to say this, but the emperor needs her, and you.”
Aidan could scarcely believe his ears. “Then it’s all an act?
“No act. She’s a staunch opponent of evil. As am I. As should we all be.”
“Ancestors,” whispered Vasile.
“You’ve been thrown a lifeline. Join with Caitlyn and redeem yourself. We will hunt evil again. And we will be victorious. You weren’t hard enough to survive the corruption she fought,” said the swordsman with a slight shake of his head. “The weak fall by the wayside. Only the strong can bear witness to the frailties in men’s hearts and endure.”
Ancestors, thought Aidan, echoing Vasile. Were they all mad? No. Cel Rau was driven, perhaps more so than Caitlyn in some ways. “What are the terms?”
Cel Rau rolled his shoulders as if to loosen them. “Join with Caitlyn again. Return to what we were before. She has the emperor’s favor, and he is our shining light against the darkness.”
A trifle melodramatic, thought Aidan. But cel Rau was deadly serious. “And if I don’t?”
Cel Rau shrugged. “Then you die tomorrow. And Vasile with you.”
“He has nothing to do with this!”
“The emperor has decreed your fate. If you want to live, then you’ll see the error of your ways.” Cel Rau left them then, closing and locking the cell door behind him.
“He was lying,” Vasile said. “Only, I’m not sure about what. Not without asking closed questions.”
“I know, Vasile. I don’t need you to tell me that.”
“What should we do? I don’t know anyone who could help us.”
“The emperor is here,” Aidan said. “That’s why Gazija sent you with us. Weren’t you supposed to obtain an audience with him and use your ability to convince him of the danger, and that Gazija could be trusted?”
“That plan fell apart the moment we started running from the jukari horde. We were too late to warn anyone. And cel Rau just said Caitlyn has the emperor’s favor. No, that avenue is closed to us.”
“And even if we manage to escape,” said Aidan, “she won’t give up. She’ll keep coming after me. And you for aiding me. I’ll have to figure out a way to deal with her once we’re out of here. I need my neck intact to do it. So we lie. We lie, and live for another day.”
He ignored Vasile’s raised eyebrow at the irony.
WHEN CAITLYN VISITED again, Aidan bowed on bended knee to her. Words tumbled from his lips, hardly heard by Vasile over the roaring in his ears. As usual, cel Rau lurked behind Caitlyn like her shadow. This time, he carried Aidan’s sword along with their other gear, as if there were no question Aidan would decide to join them.
This is not right, thought Vasile. But it needed to be done.
Caitlyn beamed at Aidan as lies flowed from his lips.
Vasile saw a good man bend before a monster, and a great man rise.
CHAPTER 16
Caldan roused himself from the bunk, where he’d tried in vain to find some semblance of sleep during the night. He checked on Miranda for what felt like the hundredth time and found her still sleeping peacefully, the corners of her lips turned up slightly, as if there were a smile on her face.
Ancestors, let her dreams be good ones.
Through the window, the river was shrouded in mist, a white cloud hovering above the water, barely lit by the dawn light. Smaller boats plowed through the fog, fishermen beginning their day, along with merchants and traders both coming and going from Riversedge. They moved slowly, careful to navigate the busy river in its hazardous state. The jukari rarely ventured near the water.
A knock sounded, startling Caldan. Miranda stirred but didn’t wake. He opened the door to reveal Quiss, with a cloth-covered tray in one hand and a steaming jug in the other. Caldan caught scents of honey, fish, and eggs, along with coffee. The sorcerer lifted both up and looked at him expectantly.
“May I come in?”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
Caldan stepped away from the door, and Quiss deposited the tray on the end of the empty bunk, and the jug of coffee on a narrow shelf above it.
“How is she? I’m surprised she hasn’t woken yet.”
“Should she have?” asked Caldan with a tinge of worry. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s fine. But we should try and have her eat and drink as soon as she can. She’s lost a lot of weight and will need to regain her strength. There’s—”
Miranda let out a yawn and opened her eyes. As Caldan moved to her side, she yawned again and rubbed her face.
“Caldan,” she croaked. “Ow . . . my throat hurts. Where are we?” She smiled at Caldan, showing dimples in her cheeks.
A lump rose in Caldan’s throat. After weeks spent with Miranda’s slack-faced expressions, he’d forgotten how she looked.
Alive. She looks alive.
And beautiful.
She reached out a hand, and Caldan took it in his. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. But . . . Anasoma. We were running. It was only yesterday. What happened?”
Quiss cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Miranda, but your questions can wait for a few minutes. There’s a bowl of porridge and stewed apples here for you. You should eat it while it’s hot.”
Miranda frowned, and Caldan almost sobbed out loud with relief. Just to see her conscious and talking again, to see her smile and frown . . . He backed away a few steps and sank onto the bunk where he’d spent the night, his legs weak.
“Sir Quiss? What are you doing here? And, Caldan, what’s wrong? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Quiss turned to the tray on the bunk. “Caldan, why don’t you help Miranda sit up? Then she can eat.” He removed the cloth covering the tray and turned toward them, a green-glazed bowl in one hand.
Once Miranda was sitting up, Quiss made sure she ate half the contents of the bowl before he allowed either of them to speak, stifling any attempts at talk with stern looks.
“Enough,” Miranda said, refusing the next spoon and holding up her hand. “I’m sorry. I feel so weak, I don’t know what’s come over me. And I can’t finish the bowl!” Her expression grew troubled.
“That’s fine,” replied Quiss. He returned the glazed dish to the tray and brought Miranda a wooden mug. “No coffee for you, I’m afraid. You need to drink all of this. It’ll help you recover.”
Miranda eyed the drink suspiciously. “What’s in it? And I think it’s about time you told me what’s going on.”
Quiss nodded to Caldan. “I’ll leave Caldan to explain. I’ll come back soon with more food. In the meantime, please drink. I promise—it’s something your body needs.”
“Fine. But no more mush! I’ll want something heartier. Meat and eggs, and some bread, if you have any.”
“As you wish, young miss.” Quiss quietly exited and closed the door behind him.
Miranda turned penetrating green eyes on Caldan. “What’s going on? Your hair . . . it’s grown. But that’s impossible.” She frowned, confused. “It’s brown, by the way, in case you didn’t know.”
Caldan swallowed. He had no idea how to tell her about her condition and all that had happened since they’d fled Anasoma. But what he did know was that he wasn’t going to keep the truth from her any longer. He didn’t want to keep secrets between them. She deserved to know everything, not only because of what she’d suffered, but because . . . he realized she meant a great deal to him. He didn’t want to be the cause of any hurt she felt.
He nudged her over to make room and sat on the bunk next to her. She placed an arm around his shoulders, and he could feel it trembling. Whether from weakness or emotion, he couldn’t tell.
“This bunk’s too small for both of us,” Miranda said. “But don’t leave me. I’m . . . scared.” She tilted her head and rested it on his arm. Her long dark hair felt like silk on his skin.
“What’s the last thing you remember?�
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Miranda yawned again and wrinkled her nose. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.
“I know. Here,” he said, handing her the cup. “Drink.”
She did, grimacing at the taste.
“Now . . . try to remember.”
“Right. We were in the tunnels under Anasoma. There was a ladder and . . . after that it’s all blank.”
Caldan sighed, not sure how she’d react to what he was about to say. “All right. Here’s what’s happened since then . . .”
MIRANDA WAS ASLEEP again, hair spilling across the blanket and down the side of the bunk. Caldan pulled up the blanket to just under her chin to make sure she was warm. He then let her be and helped himself to what food was left on the tray. He wolfed down spiced eggs, mushrooms fried in butter and herbs, and three fish of some sort, the length of his hand, stuffed with greens and diced chicken, floured and fried to leave a crispy outside. After wiping greasy hands on the cloth, he drained the jug of the now-cold coffee, leaving only brown sediment at the bottom. Lack of sleep, combined with not having fully recovered from the use of destructive sorcery, was making him slightly dizzy.
A quick glance out the window told him the sun was high in the sky and the fog had burned off. Traffic on the river had lessened to a few lone boats paddling to their destinations.
There was still so much he had to do, but he was reluctant to leave Miranda on board alone. First, he had to talk with Quiss. Then Caldan had to scout the area around where he’d hidden the bone trinket. If it was clear of jukari, he had to take a chance and retrieve it. It had seemed like a good hiding place at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. The vormag were an unknown quantity, as were the warlocks. And now, with Quiss and his people in the mix, it was getting downright crowded around here. He worried, too, whether any of them could sense trinkets or craftings somehow. They could wander past, and he’d lose the bone ring forever, and with it, one of only two ties to his parents. And even though it was the only nonmetallic trinket he’d ever heard about, and was most likely worth a startlingly large sum, its value to him was far beyond its worth in ducats.
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