Joran took the note, a number of different emotions crossing his face. Ky’ara could tell he felt upset that Lauryn had left without telling him goodbye, but he couldn’t really blame her since he’d just done the same thing.
“Do you think Norika was actually a spy?” he finally asked, shifting uncomfortably under his sister’s piercing gaze.
“No, of course not. But you may run into them on your way...if you do, let them know the official story is that I sent them all with you to the Capital...that way our stories match up when they return. They can come up with some excuse for why they came back before you got there.”
Calistra turned, pinning Ky’ara with a searching look.
Ky'ara faced her with a defiant glint in her eye, sure that the rebel leader was going to protest again. Joran's sister surprised her by giving her a fierce hug. She pulled back and fixed Ky'ara with an intense stare.
"Whatever you do, don't let the Darkness take you...having to face you, knowing it was you, but not really you...I don't think I could bear it."
Ky'ara nodded solemnly. She had no intention of suffering such a fate...though she was fairly certain Calistra wouldn’t be any happier with what she was planning.
"Keep her safe." Calistra turned to Joran, giving him her best "older sister" glare.
"I'll do my best," Joran replied, looking a bit cowed by her intensity, "obviously I will."
"I know...I just wish I could come with you...but someone needs to keep this lot in order."
"We know...We'll be back again before you even know we were gone," Ky'ara said, pushing away her guilt at the lie. Joran might come back, but if all went well, she wouldn’t be.
Calistra nodded, her eyes somehow communicating that she recognized the possibility that they might not come back at all.
"We'd better be off then," Joran said, handing Ky'ara the reins to her horse. Angallia whickered softly and pawed the ground, obviously anxious to be going as well.
Calistra grabbed Joran in one last hug and then watched as they mounted their horses and rode toward the nearest outcropping of trees. Moments later they were out of sight, swallowed up in the shadows of the forest. Calistra watched the trees long after they were gone, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness from letting them go.
A hand on her arm startled her out of her reverie, and she looked up to see that Geri had come to escort her back to camp. He gazed stoically at her furrowed brow, and inexplicably her eyes filled with tears. Geri looked a bit startled, but he brought his arm around her waist and turned her back towards camp, glaring at the other guards as though daring them to tell anyone they’d seen her cry.
“Don’t worry,” he said lightly, “you’ll see him again. Joran’s a tough one—just look at who he has for a sister.”
Calistra punched him lightly in the side, then relaxed for a moment and rested her head against his shoulder as they walked. She could almost feel his momentary surprise, and then his arm pulled her more securely against him. Somehow, having him hold her helped dispel the awful fear that she’d sent Ky’ara and her brother on a hopeless mission. Maybe that was why she needed him so much—because no matter how awful things were, Geri always seemed to know how to restore her hope that they could actually win this.
Chapter 17: In Pursuit
Iregh trudged on. His admiration for the rebel leader had disappeared miles ago, replaced by a growing resentment for his continued inability to do magic. He’d been walking through the forest for two days now, and the novelty of sleeping on the ground without anything to cover him had worn through about as fast as his tolerance for the bugs that buzzed annoyingly in his face and left itchy red bumps on any of his exposed skin.
The instant that he was able to do magic he was going to take a shadow path back to the capital. He’d considered going his own way, leaving Il’esandra to find someone else to run her errands, but the lure of a comfortable bed and quiet place to study were just too strong. No town would take him in without becoming suspicious of any magic use, and the last two days had shown he was unsuited for a life of hermithood out in the forest...though of course if he could use magic to take care of some of his basic needs it could be considerably more comfortable than it presently was. But using magic would make him too easy for Il’esandra to find...and she would be distinctly displeased with him if he did not return.
Iregh sighed. He’d been over it again and again: his only real option was to return to the capital, report what he had learned during his time in the rebel camp, and hope that once the rebel threat was quelled Il’esandra would stop giving him mundane errands to run and let him continue his study of magic in peace.
* * * * *
“So what exactly is your plan?” Sukylar asked Nori, looking over at her as she studied the ground in front of them.
“Find Iregh and bring him back.”
“In case you forgot, he’s an incredibly dangerous mage, and none of us have magic. I don’t think he’s going to make that very easy,” Sukylar said.
“Didn’t Calistra do something so he couldn’t use magic?” Nori replied, seeming unconcerned as she peered through the trees ahead of them and noted the pattern of broken branches.
“Well he used it to escape, so I think it’s safe to say that he found a way around that.” Sukylar reminded her. She hadn’t been thinking very clearly since being attacked...she couldn’t even remember what had happened right before hitting her head, other than that she had gone to investigate a sound. He wasn’t sure she had actually considered anything about this quest beyond wanting to prove her loyalty to the rebels.
“I still don’t think he can use his abilities fully,” Norika replied, pursing her lips. “He would probably have hidden his trail a lot better.” She motioned toward the trail of broken branches. “He obviously has some control over magic. He tried to set up a decoy trail, but the way these branches are broken makes it seem like a small blast of power went through here, not a person...the fallen leaves and occasional bent branches over here are more consistent with an average weight male. He went this way.”
She turned down the less obvious trail without waiting to see if they would follow. Lauryn looked at Sukylar, shrugged, and followed her. Sukylar let out an exasperated sigh. He adjusted his pack, looking worriedly at the path of broken branches that demonstrated quite clearly the destructive power the mage was still capable of. It looked like it would be up to him to come up with a strategy that wouldn’t result in them all being killed.
* * * * *
Calistra looked up as Gertrude stomped into the tent. The old woman’s face was livid.
“Yes?” She said politely, looking back down at the papers she was sorting through.
Gertrude sucked in her breath sharply, exchanging a look with other two Elders who had followed her in. “Is it true? Did you just send the crystal bearer to the capital?”
Calistra put down the papers, carefully evaluating the expressions of Gertrude’s companions. “Send is maybe a little inaccurate. I allowed her to go, with a small escort for added protection.”
“Added protection? What kind of escort could possibly protect her from the Destroyer? Or the hundreds of soldiers the King will send to capture her when he discovers she’s within reach?” Gertrude replied scathingly.
“The kind with more courage in one finger than you have in your entire being, it would seem,” Calistra said. She knew it wasn’t diplomatic, but she couldn’t help herself. Gertrude’s attitude was beginning to put her teeth on edge, and the urge to go toe to toe with her was just too strong to resist.
“Courage? It isn’t courage, it’s sheer idiocy! You’ve sent the crystal right into their hands! That talisman is the collective property of the organization’s oldest families, whose voice is made known through the Elder’s Council. You had no right—”
“I’ll stop you right there Gertrude, and remind you of whom you are speaking to.” Calistra said, her voice deadly cold. “I am the elected leader of the enti
re organization, including our Shaari and Elysian allies and the townspeople who currently support our campaign, over whom you have no authority and with whom you have no agreement, except through me.”
Gertrude opened her mouth to protest, but Calistra cut her off, raising her voice over the muttering of the other two Elders.
“Furthermore, the crystal is the property of no one, save the person it chooses, and it has chosen Ky’ara. She was the one who determined she was ready to face the Destroyer, and it was her right to make that decision, without the input of a collection of old busybodies who have proven time and again that they lack the courage to act when it is necessary.”
“You overreach yourself child. This isn’t over,” Gertrude snarled, turning on her heel and exiting the tent.
“Stay for a moment please,” Calistra said calmly as the other two Elders turned to leave.
“She is right you know,” Filluk said, turning back to her, “you were not afforded the authority to make these kinds of decisions without consulting the will of the council.”
“You realize of course, that we have no real authority over the crystal bearer anyways?” Calistra said mildly, “I merely opted not to turn her against us by trying to keep her here against her will. Fighting amongst ourselves is precisely what the Destroyer wants.”
She pinned them both with a look, her eyes conveying both urgency and expectation. “What is done is done. Instead we need to turn our minds to how we can give her the best chance of success. Will you help me ensure that we do our part to keep the King and the Destroyer occupied so they won’t think to watch for her coming?”
The two men looked at each other, surprise and a certain amount of exasperation showing on their faces. Filluk sighed and met her gaze with an inscrutable one of his own. “We will consider it. But if we decide it is wiser to withdraw back to Doraicolé, will you abide by the council’s decision?”
Calistra nodded. “Should you decide on that route, I will allow all who wish to return to Doraicolé to go with you.”
The other councilman snorted. “And those who don’t?”
Calistra turned her gaze on him. “We will stay here, instead of running back to temporary safety and abandoning the world to darkness.” She kept her tone neutral, but sincere. Let them recognize that their guilt came because she was right, not because of the way she said it.
The two councilmen pursed their lips and looked annoyed, but left without saying anything more. Calistra sighed, looking down at the papers she’d been organizing. Supply inventory was not going to hold her attention anymore. She needed to go outside and get some fresh air.
* * * * *
Ky’ara and Joran rode briskly through the sparse trees. They’d camped the night before and gotten an early start, but the day was already well on its way to being the hottest they’d seen so far that summer. The breeze generated by their passing provided at least a slight relief from the hot sun.
‘Is there a stream nearby?’ Joran asked. Mindspeaking was incredibly convenient when they didn’t want to expend the extra energy to shout to each other or take the time to stop.
‘I think so...but I’d have to stop and check the map to be sure.’ Ky’ara replied.
‘Let’s just keep on till midday at least. If we haven’t found water by then, we’ll stop and consult the map.’
‘Okay.’
They were careful to stay off the main road. Twice they passed by the outskirts of a homestead, but they avoided the areas immediately surrounding the farmhouses to hopefully prevent news of their passing from reaching any troops in the area. Midday came and went, and still no sign of the river. Finally, Ky’ara pulled Angallia to a stop and dismounted, walking her to the bit of shade under some nearby trees and letting her graze. Joran dismounted and knelt for a moment, closing his eyes and putting a hand to the ground. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, reaching out with his senses the way Taren had taught him. Ky’ara felt a vague sense of connection to all the life around them, a shadow of what Joran was sensing tenuously passed to her through their link. It was momentarily disorienting, and then it was gone.
“We’ve been riding pretty much parallel to the river,” Joran said, his voice pulling Ky’ara from her contemplation of what had just happened. “If we bear a little further east we should hit it soon.”
Ky’ara nodded, her throat too parched to consider speaking aloud. Her canteen had run out hours ago, their horses were covered in sweat, and the sun would continue beating down on them for hours yet. She consulted the sky and then took the reins of her horse, wordlessly leading them towards the promised water. The trees closed around her, offering a brief respite from the hot sun, and then moments later opened up again, and the sound of running water filled her ears. Angallia whinnied loudly, pulling Ky’ara eagerly toward the promise of refreshment.
When the river finally appeared, she laughed a little in relief and let go of the reins so the horse could drink in peace. She knelt on the bank, dunking her own face in the stream and letting the cool water run down her throat.
‘Ky’ara!’ Joran’s warning came a moment too late.
Something suddenly dug into the center of her back, pushing her chest into the rocks and preventing her from lifting her head out of the water. A gasp of pain and surprise escaped her lips, letting water into her lungs and making her cough uncontrollably as she thrashed to free herself from the attack.
Eraenos Jhoktin! She thought fiercely, and an invisible force rippled out from her, tossing her attacker backwards. Ky’ara came to her knees, coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to breathe. She stood, blinking water from her eyes and drawing her sword at the same time.
Nearby, Joran struggled against five soldiers. One held him from behind while the others attempted to tie his arms. He lashed out with his feet, sending one tumbling to the ground, then twisted sideways and hooked his leg around the person holding him, jabbing back with his elbow. The soldier broke his grip and tumbled backwards with a cry of pain. Joran was already turning to attack a third soldier with his sword, slapping the man’s blade aside as though it was nothing and then slashing his upraised arms before kicking him backwards into the stream.
Ky’ara jumped into the fray, muttering a spell to immobilize the two soldiers Joran had already knocked down, while he dueled the other two. When she was finished, she moved her attention to the man who had attacked her first, making sure that he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. Joran had just sent another soldier tumbling into the river and turned to the last one, who promptly broke and ran. A murmured word from Ky’ara froze him in his tracks.
Joran looked at her, his face dripping with sweat from the exertion. “Sorry about that. He slipped by me before I could warn you...are you ok?”
Ky’ara nodded, breathing in deeply and wincing at the pain this brought to her water-logged lungs. She focused inward and carefully murmured a spell to pull some of the water out. It was a little risky, since she didn’t really know what she was doing—what if she accidentally dried out the lung tissue itself? But the pressure inside her chest was unbearable, she had to do something. Water dribbled out the side of her mouth, and the pressure decreased. She breathed in carefully. Her lungs hitched and she coughed some more. Joran started toward her worriedly, but she held out a hand and then drew a little more water out. She took another breath, then when she was satisfied that the water was mostly gone, she sent a wave of healing magic to soothe the irritation that had resulted from her coughing.
“We’d better get out of here, before they wake up or another patrol comes by,” Joran said.
Ky’ara nodded in agreement and walked over to where the two horses were still drinking from the stream. They hardly seemed to have noticed the fight that had just occurred. “Guess you’re used to it by now,” Ky’ara murmured, resting her hand on Angallia’s neck momentarily before mounting and turning her parallel to the stream. They followed the water upstream until they found a reasonable c
rossing point. After splashing through the shallows, they rode for some time along the eastern bank. Ky’ara rode with the map spread in front of her, looking for good connection points for her spell. Their original pan had been to camp that night and then portal early the next morning, when Ky’ara was well rested. After their encounter with the soldiers they decided it would be better to portal and then find a safe place to spend the night, which meant they should probably set down a little further from the capital than she had originally intended.
‘Any ideas yet?’ Joran asked.
‘We probably want to avoid Myrnai’s village...I don’t want someone to go running off to the capital with wild stories about someone appearing out of thin air.’
‘Yeah, but we also don’t want to be too close to the capital, since you’ll probably need a day or two of rest before we keep moving. The king probably has patrols in those woods…’ Joran’s mental voice was tinged with worry.
‘I’m hoping those patrols don’t extend out more than a day’s journey from the city...I think our best bet is that clearing where we camped the first night after we left my house last year.’ Ky’ara mused.
‘You mean the one where the troll attacked us?’ Joran asked.
Ky’ara gave the mental equivalent of a nod. ‘I can picture it pretty clearly in my mind, and it’s close enough to the river that we’ll have water and food nearby, in case it takes a while for me to recover.’
‘Let’s just hope the Destroyer doesn’t notice a big flash of magic that close to the capital.’
‘I’ll be shielding it...but I don’t really know how effective that actually is with portals. We’ll just have to be vigilant afterwards.’
Joran nodded, his thoughts retreating behind a mental barrier where Ky’ara couldn’t read them. His emotions were a confusing welter of determination, irritation, and fear. Ky’ara understood—she felt much the same way. But they had to reach the capital before Iregh did, if her plan was going to work, and the only way to do that was to portal.
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