“Did you see Ascarion?”
A small laugh escaped her lips. See? Ascarion had explained to her the history of the world’s violation. Her heart thumping, she said, “Eaglin told me it was an illusion. That I couldn’t have seen him.”
That strange smile, again. “As far as any of us know, that is true. We cannot discern identity in formlessness. That is the Old One’s domain. You, however, can see into it. Lorth has seen him, too.”
Rhinne let out her breath as a tide of emotion and relief swept through her. He is real. All the dreams, the visions. Real. A tear sprang into her eye. “He came to me in the impossible—where Ealiron lives. He said Ealiron brought me into another dimension to protect me.”
A nod. “What did Ascarion say to you there?”
She hesitated. “It’s like a dream, now. I was a priestess. The book, the one he told me about in my dreams on Tromb before I left, he said I wrote it and hid it because...” She flushed, her heart nearly jumping from her chest with fear.
“He told you what Carmaenos did to you.”
She nodded. “I didn’t think the book was real.”
“It exists across dimensions. Wulfgar brought it here from Tromb.”
Rhinne wrinkled her brow. “How did he find it?” She couldn’t imagine Wulfgar searching the library for anything.
“It came to him,” the warrior said.
An odd answer. “Ascarion said if the Lords of Eyrie find out about this and declare war, the Riven God will change time and turn the world into a wasteland. He told me I had to return alone. That’s why I left.”
Eusiron appeared thoughtful. “Carmaenos will indeed alter the grid again if he finds out what we know. Fortunately, Ragnvald has given us a way to confront this under a different pretext.” He paced back and forth before her, his dark cloak caressing the air. “Did Ascarion explain what you were to do when you returned?”
“He said only I can see through Carmaenos’ shield and expose him to Ealiron. He didn’t say how.”
The entity stopped pacing, then reached into his cloak and drew forth a strap holding a familiar scabbard, which he handed to her. “You will need this.”
Rhinne took the North Born blade with a stab of shame. She felt less worthy of her ancestral sword than ever after breaking her vow to Harald, selling the blade and then losing the money. She traced her fingers over the patterns on the scabbard and tried not recall what she had felt as the first oborom warlock had cut evil into her flesh. She looked up.
“Rest,” the entity said. “Tomorrow, we will begin your training.”
The Fourth Formation entity of Eaon vanished like a dream, leaving Rhinne wide awake, a bit seasick and holding a sword that had betrayed her. Training? For what? She let the heavy scabbard slide to the floor, and lay down, trying to imagine Wulfgar’s expression when he found out she had been whisked out from under his nose by a god.
*
Lorth opened his eyes to a dreary predawn stained with torchlight. Cold rain shrouded a gathering of dark figures standing on the edge of Willowfae’s garden. A bleak air held the space with an old woman’s fist, the kind of spell a grieving mother would cast.
“He’s awake,” a man said across the short distance. None of them approached; the priestess’ magic kept them at bay.
Lorth drew a cloud of mist around his body and rose to his feet. “Willowfae.”
“Here,” the priestess rasped from beside the rowan tree.
Lorth reached into a pocket of his cloak. He drew her close and pressed the phial containing Eusiron’s blood into her hand. Softly, he asked, “How long was I down?”
“Not long.” She cocked a thumb over her shoulder. “Your prince brought trouble with him. They claim he’s wanted by the Eye.”
Lorth cleared his throat. “I am the Eye. Go. I’ll deal with this.”
Clutching the phial to her heart, Willowfae hurried towards the cottage. Beyond the black teeth of her spell, one of the men drew a sword. Alinan. “Reveal yourself,” he demanded.
Lorth strode to the edge of the garden cloaked in his spell. The Raptors glanced at each other nervously. Lorth dropped his fog into the earth. “What are you doing here?”
“Master,” Alinan said, startled by Lorth’s appearance for the second time that night. He stepped back and bowed his head.
The others, visibly rattled, began to kneel. Lorth stopped them with an impatient gesture. “You are dismissed.” They didn’t look at Alinan before dispersing into the rain with their mounts. In a clatter they departed, hoofbeats fading into the ground.
“I asked you a question,” Lorth said.
Alinan sheathed his blade and lifted his chin. “I was under strict orders from Ecthor not to let anyone see the prisoner from Tromb. Not even you, Master. I came to discover the nature of the prisoner’s movements before I report.” He glanced at the cottage. “The woman is harboring him.”
A thin smile moved on Lorth’s lips. “Ecthor has no authority over me, and you have no authority here. The Prince of Tromb is my charge, now. Return to your post.”
The Raptor flexed his jaw, his glance moving again to the cottage. “Aye, Master.” He moved stiffly to his horse and mounted in a cloud of trouble. This wouldn’t be the end of things. Wulfgar had bested Alinan and he wanted retribution.
Yawning, Lorth strode for the back door of Willowfae’s cottage. Warmth and the scent of burning herbs enveloped him as he entered. He moved through the hall and descended the steps to the cellar.
As he entered, Willowfae turned. “What was that about?”
“Misunderstanding.” He reached her side. On the bed, Wulfgar cradled Elspeth in his arms and held a cup to her lips. A sigil was smeared in red on her forehead, between her eyes. The blood of a war god. Though still deathly weak and pale, she was alive.
“Love indeed,” Willowfae said quietly by his side. “Where did you get it?”
“A place I didn’t expect. I’ll tell you about it someday.” He moved to the bed and knelt, reached out and touched Elspeth on the cheek. Wulfgar tightened his arms around the seer and put his face into her hair. Blinking, Elspeth managed a smile. “Master,” she whispered. “I saw you.”
Lorth lifted his brow. “Did you.”
“Two moons. Tall stones. A fire.”
“You are a gift to your art, Elspeth. I was indeed in that place.” He took up one of her hands and kissed it.
They all jumped as someone pounded on the door upstairs.
Willowfae snapped her gaze to his. “Who...”
Lorth knew only one person who could pass through a spell such as the priestess had cast around the place. He rose and moved towards the stairs. “Fear not. Wulf, stay here with Elspeth. I might be a while.” He nodded to Willowfae and ascended, yanking his wet hood over his head.
At the top of the stairs, he took a deep breath. Then he opened the door. “Eaglin.”
“Lorth,” the Raven of Eusiron returned, his eyes dark.
Lorth stepped out and closed the door behind him. Ecthor and a large company of Raptors sat on their horses a short distance away, on the path. Ever respectful of Maern, Eaglin has passed through the spell and left them there outside of it.
“We’ve been looking for you for hours,” Eaglin said. “Nightshade delivered your message to me and then vanished. I went to the Cage to meet you. No one was there.”
“Brawl should have been there.” And Alinan, he added to himself.
“It did puzzle me, until I found Ecthor and his men.” Eaglin glanced over his shoulder. “He told me you broke Wulfgar out of the Cage. They claim he killed a woman in the Purple Vine.” He leaned aside and looked at the door. “She lived here, or so Ecthor tells me. We thought to inquire as to your whereabouts and I find the place cloaked with a Destroyer’s protection spell.”
Lorth lowered his voice. “Long story. Wulfgar didn’t kill anyone; he was set up by an oborom assassin. Right now he’s in Maern’s domain and needs to be left alone.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Not physically.” He moved away from the cottage and down the path. Ahead, Ecthor dismounted. Once more, Lorth cast his mind into the surroundings to discern the presence of the oborom. Nothing. It still bothered him that Wulfgar’s assassin hadn’t followed up on his mark. “I need sleep. When do we sail?”
Eaglin strode beside him like a shadow. “We’re not going anywhere until we find Rhinne.”
Lorth stopped. “I thought you had her.”
The Raven’s face appeared spectral in the dim light. “Someone took her from the guardhouse. Someone with power. They used magic to trick the guards. We’ve no idea where she is.”
“Oborom?”
“It was transparent; I couldn’t tell. Possibly.”
Lorth turned and gazed at the cottage. He didn’t have the heart to burden Wulfgar with this news, not now, not when he had left his sister in Eaglin’s care to come after Elspeth. Lorth tilted his face to the rain and cast his mind to the sea. This might explain why the oborom hunter hadn’t come after Wulfgar to finish what he had started. But he needed more information.
He continued walking. “I must return to the Cage. There’s someone there who might be able to shed light on this.”
As they approached Ecthor, he bowed his head and put a fist to his heart. Eaglin said, “Wulfgar of Tromb is innocent.”
As the captain turned his dark gaze on Lorth in question the hunter inquired, “Why did you put him at the bottom of the Cage and ground-seal the cell?”
Eaglin made a sound in his throat. “You did what?”
Ecthor rubbed his beard. “I was told he was very dangerous and possibly working for the enemy. After what happened at the Shining Star, I didn’t want to take a chance.”
“You thought him so dangerous that you ordered Alinan to prevent me from seeing him?” Lorth said.
The captain blinked. “I gave no such order, Master.”
Interesting. “Wulfgar attacked Alinan at the Vine for a woman he sought to protect. Alinan took it personally. I suggest you remind him to separate his temper from his duty.” He didn’t bother to mention that the Raptor had just come here with his buddies thinking to accost the prince himself.
Ecthor nodded briskly. “It will be done, Master.” He called a name over his shoulder. He sent the man on an errand and then gave his horse to Lorth. They mounted and rode into the street. Eaglin pulled ahead, putting some distance on the company. Lorth joined him.
“Ecthor told me you weren’t in the Vine when this happened,” Eaglin said.
“I left Wulfgar there and went to follow some information. I found a woman who had traveled with Rhinne from Eyrie.” He didn’t mention that Nightshade had led him. That opened up too many questions he didn’t have answers to.
“Rhinne told me about her. A thief who robbed her.”
“Her name is Fana. I reclaimed Rhinne’s coin from her, a handsome sum and no wonder Fana worked for it. Then I took her to the Cage. Her confession was missing some vital ingredients.”
Eaglin hissed a laugh. “I should say so. She gained Eusiron’s attention.”
Lorth turned to him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“He stopped them on the North Road. Rhinne was hidden in the woman’s cart. She said he interrogated Fana and threatened to report her to the Eye. He must have known Rhinne was there. I can’t imagine why he didn’t call her out.”
Lorth stared ahead at the growing light shrouded in wind-driven rain. Why, indeed. “Wulfgar and I found the cart on the road, destroyed. It must have been hers because I found tracks leading to the body of an oborom hunter. I later discovered she’d been in the Journeyman’s Square haggling for her pony.”
“Rhinne told me Fana killed the hunter just as he got the best of her. I’m uneasy believing that. Do you think Eusiron had something to do with it?”
Lorth nodded. “That is likely. I don’t believe she did it. If you had seen the placement of that blade—it was a flawless kill. Rhinne must have been unconscious or something.”
“The woman took credit. I wonder if she saw him.”
“I intend to discover that. When Fana sang to me, she didn’t mention anything about the dead hunter on the road, the assassin she supposedly killed, or Eusiron. Originally I suspected she might be working for the oborom. A common thief would have left Rhinne in the woods and been away. Now I wonder if Eusiron spooked her.”
Eaglin snorted. “If anything could, it would be him. He wouldn’t randomly stop an old woman on the road, cart tracks or not. He had a reason for doing that.”
“He must have been hunting the assassin.”
“A reasonable assumption. So why would he allow the oborom to snatch Rhinne from the guardhouse?”
Lorth reined his horse as they approached the Bird Cage. As he dismounted, Ecthor and his men clattered into the street. “A better question is, why did he do all of this in secret without involving us?”
“Aye,” Eaglin agreed. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“If Fana is a spy, she might have answers. But I might have to play rough to get them.” He opened the door with a word and went inside.
Eaglin followed, closing the door. “She might loosen up in the face of execution.”
They reached the office to find the fire in the hearth burned down to coals and the lamp sputtering on the last of its oil. “Brawl!” Lorth barked. “Alinan!” When no one answered, he muttered, “Lazy bastards.” He moved down the hall and grabbed a torch from a sconce.
The two wizards moved through the dank corridors. As they neared Fana’s cell, Lorth’s spider scar began to prickle. It was quiet; too quiet. A sleeping thief would awake at the smallest sound. He held the torch high to the bars. Fana lay in a lump in the corner, not moving.
“Something’s wrong,” Eaglin said. He held his hand over the locking mechanism and spoke a word. The gate clicked open.
Lorth’s scar nearly leapt off his neck as he entered and leaned over her. He rolled her over, unsurprised by the pool of blood beneath her throat. A clean cut, but not an expert’s. He didn’t sense thorns. He touched her eyes closed with a soft word. Eaglin stood by his side, his gray-green gaze holding question.
“This isn’t the work of the oborom,” Lorth said.
“Who knew she was here?”
“Unless I was seen bringing her in, only Alinan and Brawl.” Darkness began to pool in his mind like the thief’s own blood. “I told Brawl to kill her if she caused trouble, but I only said it to frighten her and he knew it. This is something else.”
Footsteps approached the cell; Ecthor appeared. Lorth stood up. “Have your men search this place for Brawl. Every inch of it. Then find Alinan and put him below for treason.”
The captain paled, then tore his gaze from Fana’s body and disappeared into the hall, shouting names.
Eaglin moved into the hall and folded his arms over his chest. “Always a mystery, you are. Treason? Do tell me how you came to that.”
“I should have seen it sooner,” Lorth said, joining him. “Alinan and Brawl found Wulfgar in the Vine after the oborom assassin attacked him. According to Wulfgar, Brawl looked out the window where the hunter escaped, but Alinan didn’t bother. He knocked Wulfgar out when he tried to stop them from leaving Elspeth there. Then he declared her dead and saw to it that Ecthor put Wulfgar under high security.
“I’ve been wondering why I didn’t pick up any oborom when I returned with Wulfgar to Willowfae’s. No assassin worth his pay would leave a mark undone like that. But I think they didn’t know. Alinan didn’t expect me to show up here. He tried to stop me from seeing Wulfgar, and when I freed the prince, he went berserk and put Alinan down cold. So Alinan never reported to his masters. He later showed up at Willowfae’s pretending it was his duty to return the prince to the Cage. He even lied to me about his orders. I made the mistake of returning him to post.”
Shouts and footsteps of men echoed through the passages. Eaglin said, “So he kil
led Fana to make us think the oborom did it to hide what she knew.”
“Something like that.” They moved down the hall. “He wouldn’t have known that I’m able to sense them around. I’m also going to guess he killed Brawl in case we decided to question him about what happened at the Vine.”
“Do you think Alinan is involved in Rhinne’s abduction?”
Lorth shook his head. “I don’t think the oborom are involved. I think Eusiron did it to throw everyone off because he knew we had a spy in the ranks.”
Eaglin barked a laugh. “I knew that bastard was up to something.” He turned to Lorth with a dark eye. “As are you. I don’t suppose you know what his plans are.”
Lorth turned to his friend with a lupine smile. “I can guess. Let’s retrieve Wulfgar and return to the Shining Star, for I have much to tell you.”
The Howling Estuary
The afternoon sun broke through scattered clouds and shone upon the rocks and fields on the northern coast of Tromb. Gulls wheeled in the sky, their strident cries mingling with the echoes of the rising tide. The Draumar tumbled in the shadows of the Howling Estuary carved over ages by the confluence of the river and the sea.
Cradling a broken arm, Aelfric limped along a narrow path that threaded through the gorge above the high-tide water line. The river churned below. He moved into a patch of sunlight shining through an opening in the rocks. Careful to find a solid place so the wind wouldn’t whisk him over the edge, he slid down and closed his eyes, bathed in warmth. An arrow wound in his other shoulder throbbed with infection.
A large fly landed on the side of his face and bit him with the force of a hammered nail. Aelfric’s slap had little effect; the creature wavered a bit and flew off. It would return. Hunger gnawed at him with quiet insistence. Early that morning he had found a bird’s nest with two white speckled eggs in it. He had choked them down with water from a trickling stream. One less meal for the ravens.
If he didn’t treat his infection soon, the ravens would be feeding on him. After his breakfast, he had carefully undressed and dipped his shoulder into the icy surf. The waters of the sea were known to heal many things. It had cooled the pain a bit, but that didn’t last.
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