He pointed at her face. “This changes nothing.” He went back to packing.
“You would abandon your child?”
“I see no child,” Kal said, “but Shanek is alone in Rurekau. He’s my responsibility. He needs me, and I will go to him.”
“But you’ll come back? When the baby is born?”
Kal ducked to pick up his scabbard and sword and strapped them on.
Charlon wrung her hands. “You’ll come back?”
Kal looked her up and down—really looked. She’d always been small but usually exuded power. Now she seemed downright lost. He didn’t even want to think that she could be telling the truth about a babe. How would a child survive such a mother?
“Only the gods know what the future holds,” he said. “Now get out.”
Within the hour Kal said goodbye to Amala and departed. He didn’t bid Charlon farewell. He was afraid he might harm the woman. Never in all his days had he been so humiliated. So angry. So terrified.
As he rode his horse northwest, his thoughts dwelled on Shanek, what he might be doing, and how Empress Jazlyn would try to manipulate him. He had no doubt she would. He wished he knew her agenda.
“Sir Kalenek? Can you hear me?”
A chill ran up his arms at the familiarity of the voice in his head. He reined the horse to a stop on the trail. “Yes,” he whispered. “I hear you, Miss Onika.”
“You know me? You remember?”
“I do. Chieftess Charlon had placed several compulsions upon me, one of which was to forget you. But the compulsions ended and I remembered.”
A surge of joy tingled in his mind. “Praise Arman. Where are you?”
“Some two hours northwest of Magosia on a trail headed to New Rurekau. My ward traveled there and I must find him.”
“I’m being held captive in a camp just outside of New Rurekau.”
Alarm rang through Kal. “Have they hurt you?”
“Say you will come for me, Rescuer. I know that you will, for I have seen it. But to hear you say the words after so long would soothe my battered soul.”
Dread grew inside as Kal took meaning from her words. Sudden memories flashed in his mind. “You’ve asked me for help before, haven’t you?”
“You were under her spell.”
Kal rubbed his face, overcome with sorrow and shame. “Forgive me, lady. I’ve failed you.”
“Failure is part of success, Sir Kalenek. A man falls down, and he gets up again. We are sometimes hurt but not destroyed. Even in the darkest of times, our spirit is strengthened by our reliance on Arman, for he never leaves us alone.”
Her words took him back to her cabin aboard the Seffynaw. “This is what you meant before, when you spoke of the darkness to come? Am I too late to save you from that torment?”
“Oh, Sir Kalenek. I see you! You are on horseback.”
Kal looked around, confused, and scanned the surrounding plains. “You see me? How?”
“I’ve learned something new with my magic,” she said. “I can enter the Veil.”
Such words seemed impossible. “Like Grayson?”
“Not quite.”
“And you can see, though you are blind?”
“It’s a glimpse of my eternal self, healed and whole. Oh, Sir Kalenek, you are beautiful to look upon.”
Kal tensed, his eyes rolling from side to side as he searched the land around him. “It’s seems I am the blind one now, for I cannot see you.”
“Now you know how I felt all this time, hearing your voice but not seeing your face. Did the Chieftess heal your scars?”
He grimaced. “That’s a long story.”
“And we have a long journey. Though we must move swiftly. Rogedoth is preparing for a journey of his own. I want to escape while he is gone. Move your horse onward, and while we travel together, tell me all that has happened while we have been parted.”
Kal obeyed, though he felt slightly mad in doing so. He continued along the trail toward New Rurekau, but he no longer knew for certain what his future held. Were the gods so cruel as to force him to choose between rescuing Miss Onika and finding Shanek? And if the choice came before him, which would he choose?
Trevn
The Greenore had vanished.
Trevn sent Grayson in search of the ship, but the young man couldn’t find it. This made Trevn suspicious that magic was at play. Oli had tried shadowing the minds of his sister and parents but continually found their shields solid. It bothered Trevn that General Agoros and his mantic wife and daughter were out there somewhere with a compelled army of five hundred.
He set the matter aside for now and reached for Conaw’s mind. His Puru friend was still uncomfortable with the mind-speak magic but agreed it was the easiest way to communicate.
Once they exchanged the usual pleasantries, Trevn got right to the matter at hand. “My wife is haunted by the Puru children she saw traded to the Jiir-Yeke right before we found her. She daily begs me to try and find the children and rescue them.”
“That is unwise,” Conaw said. “The trade was enough to keep the Jiir-Yeke away for two or three moons. If you freed the children, the Jiir-Yeke would attack many villages and take more than necessary. Let the past remain.”
Mielle wouldn’t be pleased to hear this. “I’ve tried to speak with some of the local Puru, but they’ve been nonresponsive, even when I involved Grayson. I know we claimed much of the land they relied on, but I’d like to make amends.”
“Give it time,” Conaw said. “The tribes are wary. Most know you freed Puru from the Ahj-Yeke mines, but this divided many villages. Puru want freedom, but they are afraid.”
“What does Muna want?” Trevn asked.
“Muna is firm in her plan to stand against the Yeke, but this must be done carefully.”
“When you come up with a plan, we will do all we can to help you,” Trevn said.
He pondered this as he went down to the practice field but could find no easy solution. His swordplay was improving, as was his ability to use his voicing magic to anticipate his opponent’s next moves. He held his own against Sir Jarmyn Koll, no small feat and the first time he saw admiration in the eyes of some of the onlookers. Not from Sir Jarmyn, of course. That man held no love for Trevn, as his father, the Earl of Blackpool, was friends with Tace Edekk.
Back in their chambers Mielle kept Trevn company as Ottee helped him out of his armor.
“Has Inolah reached New Rurekau?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Trevn said. “Another day, I think. I only hope she can take matters into hand there. My mother will no doubt make that difficult. Empress Jazlyn as well.”
“I hope her sons can recover. I’m glad she can go to them. It makes me think of the Puru children. How could any mother give up her child?”
“Different cultures, Mielle. It’ll take time to understand. Even then we might not agree.”
“We must do something.”
“I asked Conaw about it today, and he made it clear we should not meddle.” He went on to explain Conaw’s position in greater detail.
Mielle’s anger rushed through Trevn. “But that’s not right!”
He sent his calm. “They’re not our people to decide right or wrong. If you’re concerned with missing children, help Jhorn in his search for the Armanian boys taken for the army Tace Edekk claims to have no knowledge of. There’s a mystery that concerns our people.”
She folded her arms, sorrow spilling into him. “Both should concern us.”
Ottee finished with the armor and Trevn dismissed him. “We must take care of our own first, Mielle.”
She wrung her hands. “I’ll ask Jhorn about the local children, but please don’t ask me to forget the Puru children.”
“Of course you should remember them in your prayers, but at this time, we can do nothing else for them.”
She sighed. “I don’t suppose I can go back to planning court?”
“Not until I find the Greenore and know there’s no
threat. Now kiss me and say a prayer for a smooth council meeting.” Trevn wasn’t looking forward to the panic over the missing ship.
Mielle pecked her lips against his. “Why do you dislike the nobles so much? Is it just about how they try to boss you?”
“That’s part of it,” Trevn said. “I dislike how they think they’re better than everyone else—that their lives are worth more. I’ve been reading Wilek’s journals, and they’ve made me realize how much the nobles remind me of our father. Sometimes just being around them makes me want to argue. Or run off and climb the castle walls.” Something he’d yet to have a chance to try here.
This earned him a bright smile. “Well, they’re not your father, and you are king. Perhaps you should treat them how you would have liked your father to treat you.”
Trevn wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, staring deeply into her eyes. He saw her need to connect. He’d been missing it too. “I’m sorry we’re apart so much.”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “It sometimes seems like I don’t matter to you.”
“You can’t believe that,” Trevn said. “I spent the better part of a year looking for you.”
“Yes, but now that you’ve found me, the adventure is over. I know it’s not true, but it’s how I feel.”
“I’m sorry, Mielle.” He kissed her, allowing his soul to sink into hers for a moment. Her response made him forget his agenda, until behind them a man cleared his throat. Trevn opened one eye. Hawley. The meeting. He groaned and broke away. Kissed her one last time. “I’ll try harder, Mouse.”
Though he didn’t know when he would ever find the time.
Grayson
Grayson didn’t understand why he moved slower with Trista on his back. He could actually see glimpses of walls and corridors as he carried her crosswise from the roof to the council chambers on the third floor. They finally appeared in the dark room.
“You did it!” she said, her voice a tickling hum in his ear.
He did. He could carry a person through the Veil. He set Trista on her feet and brought forth a ball of light on his palm. Her eyes focused on the light and gleamed brightly. “Are you well?” he asked.
“Perfectly well,” she whispered. “How are you doing that?”
He shrugged and tried to hide his smile. “It’s just something I can do.”
Trista thrust her fists above her head and squealed. “That was amazing!”
Grayson couldn’t help it. Her excitement made him grin. He liked impressing Trista.
She grabbed his arm with both hands. “This time, take us to the kitchens where—” She gasped. “Wait, can you take us to the forest with the giant trees? Or how about the—”
The door to the antechamber opened. Sir Cadoc entered, holding a torch in one hand. Behind him came King Trevn, Queen Mielle, and Lady Pia.
“Oh,” Trista said.
“What’s going on here?” the king asked.
Grayson slid back from Trista and fought the urge to pop away. “We were looking for a missing chicken,” he said at the same time as Trista said, “Master Grayson was just showing me this table.”
Trista spun toward him, glaring, and punched his arm.
“Ow!” Grayson put his hand over the throbbing spot. “A table?” he whispered. “Why would I show you a table?”
“This is highly inappropriate,” the queen said. “After what happened the last time, did neither of you listen to Rosârah Brelenah?”
Grayson stammered. “I . . . uhm . . . that’s not what I . . .”
“We weren’t kissing, if that’s what you think,” Trista said, rolling her eyes.
Grayson choked in a sharp breath and started coughing. When he managed to stop, he confessed. “We popped. And I carried her with me.”
The king’s eyebrows rose. “You traveled through the Veil? Together?”
Grayson swallowed and desperately wanted to run away. “It was an experiment.”
“He practiced first with a chicken,” Trista added.
King Trevn pulled out a chair at the council table. “Sit.”
Trista sat, and Grayson claimed the chair beside hers.
The king folded his arms. “Tell me everything.”
It wasn’t a very smooth story, as Grayson and Trista continued to interrupt each other. When they both stopped talking, the queen was the first to speak.
“Could you carry the Puru children to safety, if you found them?”
“Mielle,” the king said. “We’ve been over this.”
The queen did not waver. “But could you?”
“I suppose,” Grayson said. “I was hoping to rescue Onika. And my grandmother.” He’d only been to visit Grandmother a few times. She’d told stories of what it had been like to grow up in Sarikar, but she never wanted to talk about Rogedoth. Bringing her here might change that.
The king inhaled a deep breath. “Lady Trista, you will not tell anyone about Grayson’s ability to carry a person through the Veil. Until we fully understand it, we must keep it secret. Some people might not understand. They might grow afraid.”
“Like some fear the voices?” the queen asked.
“Exactly like that,” the king said.
“Or they might try to abuse his power,” Trista said, gazing at Grayson with admiration.
“That too,” the king said. “Do I have your word?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Trista stood and curtsied her agreement.
“You are dismissed,” the king said.
Trista sent one last adoring gaze at Grayson, then left him alone with the king, queen, and their guards. Grayson slouched in his chair, certain that the king would be angry and punish him for putting Lady Trista’s life at risk.
The king surprised him by sitting in the chair Trista had vacated. “I want Miss Onika back as much as you do, but she has made it clear she will wait for Sir Kalenek. Lady Islah, on the other hand . . . I would very much like to talk with her.”
“Shall I go right away?” Grayson asked, eager to make amends.
“No.” The king held up his hand. “At this moment, I need you to keep trying to find the Greenore. I must know what General Agoros is planning.”
Grayson nodded. “Yes, sir.” Though he doubted he’d find it.
“Once we know where the Greenore is, we can talk about rescuing Lady Islah.” The king stood and walked toward the main exit. Sir Cadoc reached the door first and opened it.
“But, Trevn,” the queen said, “if Grayson could find the missing Puru children, he could carry them away to safety.”
The king glanced back. “We have already had this discussion, Mouse.”
“We can’t just leave them to die!”
The king sighed. “The Greenore could very well be on its way to attack Armania. Protecting our people is my only objective at present.”
“But—”
The king lifted his hand and looked at Grayson. “There will be time to experiment with your new skill. I myself am eager to consider the possibilities. But for now, do not carry anyone else through the Veil until I give you leave. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Good.” The king glanced at his wife, then left, taking Sir Cadoc along.
The moment the door fell closed, the queen claimed the chair the king had vacated. “Did you ever find any trace of the Puru children?”
“No, Your Highness,” he said, suddenly reluctant to talk to her about it. “The king sent me to assist the Earl of Dacre with the attack on Rosârah Laviel and I . . . um . . . I’ve been following Porvil.” Which was partly true. He had followed Porvil twice. Over a week ago.
“Did you learn anything?”
“I saw him talking to Lady Brisa Hadar.”
“What were they talking about?”
“She was asking him about Sir Jarmyn. Trista said her sister fancies the man, even though he’s married.”
The queen glanced at Lady Pia. “Don’t worry about Porvil right now.
I want you to keep looking for those Puru orphans. After you find the Greenore, of course. If you do find them, could you bring them here to me? If Trevn agreed?”
The possibilities of what Grayson could do suddenly opened wide before him. Yes, he could rescue children and his grandmother and Onika too, if she’d let him. He could even grab on to Master Rogedoth and carry him to some deserted island.
“Grayson?” the queen prodded.
He straightened. “Yes, Your Highness. I believe I could. If the king agreed.”
“Oh, this is marvelous,” the queen said. “Find the Greenore quickly. I only pray it’s not too late.”
Qoatch
Qoatch watched Empress Jazlyn cast a spell to transform one of the small birds into a little dog. The animal was just as full of energy as the real thing. It wiggled and wagged its tail, all the while sniffing the floor for food. It looked completely authentic. Until it crowed.
His Great Lady stood in the middle of her sitting room with Sâr Shanek, receiving another lesson in the new magic, which strangely made use of the gowzals as a medium.
“Oh, how marvelous!” Jazlyn released the spell, and the dog collapsed into a pool of black liquid.
“Our trade is over now,” Shanek said.
“You’re not leaving?” Jazlyn motioned to Qoatch. “How about something to eat?”
Qoatch carried the tray he’d prepared from the sideboard to the low table between the two longchairs. A gowzal fluttered to the tabletop, and Qoatch shooed it away from the food.
“I must go,” Sâr Shanek said.
“Perhaps we could celebrate our friendship with a meal?” Jazlyn said. “You could bring Miss Amala for dinner and dancing and the finest entertainment New Rurekau has to offer. She would like that, wouldn’t she? How about tomorrow evening?”
Shanek frowned. “Amala could see the baby?”
“Of course!” Jazlyn said. “Jahleeah would be delighted to see her again.”
Shanek jerked his head in a single nod. “We will come.” Then he disappeared.
Jazlyn collapsed on one of the longchairs. “Well, that was exhausting, and I don’t mean the magic. I see why Chieftess Charlon kept it to herself, though. Sâr Shanek taught me nothing more than parlor tricks, but I can devise much greater purposes for such power.”
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