Lowellin swung his arm. Still impaled on the stone blade, Maphothet was lifted into the air and smashed into the other sorcerer, knocking him down. Swiftly, Lowellin retracted the blade, freeing it from Maphothet’s body. Then he extended it again, stabbing the other sorcerer through the face.
Lowellin retracted the stone blade again. A moment later his arm was back to normal, the same as always except for some blood on it which he shook off.
“Crude, but admittedly effective,” he said, looking at his arm.
Fen released the flaming sword. He touched his shoulder, feeling the roughness of stone under his fingertips. The pain was almost gone. “I was beginning to think you were going to let them kill me,” he told Lowellin.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because they almost killed me.”
Lowellin shook his head and moved closer. “That would be stupid. I already told you I need you. Why let you die now?”
“Maybe you changed your mind.”
“I wanted to see what you were capable of.”
“It would be easier if I wasn’t on this ship.”
“No doubt.”
“That was a neat trick you did, turning your arm into a sword. I never thought of that.”
“I’m a Shaper, right? Hence the shaping. You could probably do it too.”
“If you can shape your body, then why the scars?”
Lowellin touched his face. “I can make them go away, but as soon as I’m not thinking about it, they return. I’ve been in this form too long. It’s a habit now, I guess.” He moved to stand over the dead sorcerers. “I serve the Ichthalids because I have no choice. But these…” He kicked Maphothet’s body. “…they actually chose to. How stupid is that?” He looked at Fen. “Killing them feels surprisingly good. I should have done it long ago.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I try not to kill my allies until I’m sure I won’t need them again.”
A chill went through Fen at his words, but he tried not to let it show. “What about the Ichthalids? What will they say when they find out you killed their followers?”
Lowellin shrugged. “I doubt they will care. The sorcerers had mostly outlived their usefulness. There’s more of them in Ankhara anyway. What I don’t want is for them to find out about you. That will be somewhat harder to explain, since I told them I killed you already.” His eyes went to the young woman, who was huddled by the door, her eyes big and round.
“She’s a loose end,” Lowellin said. “I should probably kill her now too.” He raised one arm. It began to change into a blade.
“Hold on,” Fen said, moving between them. “She isn’t going to say a word. Are you?” he asked her. She shook her head violently.
Lowellin looked puzzled. “Why would you care? Her people sacked your city and killed your mother, after all.”
“Because it’s not right.”
Lowellin nodded. “It’s that tedious noble thing again, isn’t it? I keep forgetting how dull and predictable you are,” Lowellin said. “Very well. I will let her live. The risk is minimal. But I expect I’ll be getting a visitor soon. The Ichthalids are sure to have noticed all the fireworks. You need to get back into your cell.”
Lowellin strode over to the door and opened it. “Guards!” he yelled. “Come take these two back to their cell.”
Running footsteps and Corporal Slats entered the cabin, followed by two others. They skidded to a halt when they saw the bodies of the sorcerers lying on the deck. Slats looked from them to Fen, then to Lowellin. “What…?”
“It turns out they weren’t hungry after all,” Lowellin said. “But then they went and made a big mess in my cabin. Send someone to clean it up, will you?” He turned and walked over to the windows and stared out at the sea.
Slats gestured with his weapon. “Move along, you two.”
“What happened in there?” one of the soldiers asked as they crossed the deck.
“I don’t know,” Slats said. “I don’t want to know. But it looks like we don’t need the slaves anymore. We should toss these two over the side and be done with them.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the other soldier said. “The king said—”
“I know what the king said. I heard him too.” Slats made an irritated sound. “What happened to the days when things made sense?”
╬ ╬ ╬
Lowellin didn’t have to wait long. Shortly after Fen and the slave girl left, a shadow appeared in the air before the desk. It swirled, then solidified into the hunched form of Ilsith.
Lowellin said, “What took you so long? Don’t tell me you’re slowing down.”
Ilsith looked at the bodies. “What happened here?”
“We had a disagreement. But we’re over it now. We came to an understanding. I don’t think we’re going to have any more problems.”
“S’nash was not finished with them. He will be angry.”
“Is he ever not angry?”
Ilsith turned to look at him. As always, it was hard to see if there was any expression on that shadowy, ravaged face.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Lowellin said. “You’ve known him longer than I have.”
“He will want an explanation.”
Lowellin leaned forward, sudden anger in his ancient eyes. “I am not accustomed to suffering insolence. They were insolent one time too many. I killed them. That is all there is to it.”
“So be it.” The shadows wreathing Ilsith began to swirl.
“Before you leave, I have one question: why?” Lowellin asked.
The swirling slowed. “Why what?”
“Why do you take orders from S’nash? You should be in command here. It was you who killed the masters and crippled the Shapers set to guard the key. It was you who was responsible for the first crack into the Abyss. And what a price you’ve paid. Look at you. Is there anything solid left of you, or are you only shadow now? You even had to put up with being my servant! I ask again. Why? Why settle for being an errand boy, after all you have done?”
Ilsith drew himself straighter. His tone was ice when he spoke. “I am no errand boy.”
“What are you then?”
“I am a loyal servant of the Queen of Chaos.”
“I knew you’d say that. I’ve been wondering. Once your precious queen is free, who will get the credit? Who will she reward?”
“My queen knows the sacrifices I have made on Her behalf.”
“You say that, but I think what’s going to happen is that S’nash will hog all the glory for himself. She’ll make him her consort or supreme general or something. But I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure there will be some scraps left for you too.”
Ilsith flashed forward, and Lowellin felt his claws at his throat. “You go too far,” Ilsith hissed.
“Do I? You forget, I already have your poison inside me. What more will you do?”
“I will rip out your throat.”
“Which will be uncomfortable, but it won’t kill me. You know that. You better than anyone, after all the years we have spent together. Those were good times, weren’t they?”
Ilsith withdrew. “This conversation serves no purpose.”
“One last question,” Lowellin said. “How is it that you have these powers that the others do not? Did your queen give them to you? And did you know at what cost they would come?”
Ilsith did not answer. The shadows swirled, and he was gone.
Lowellin turned back to the stern windows. He looked out at the sea and thought there was nothing he enjoyed nearly so much as confusing people and manipulating them. It made the tedium of life almost bearable.
Chapter 29
The soldiers shoved Fen and the young woman back into their cell and locked the door behind them. Fen’s friends clustered around him. Cowley threw his arms around him and hugged him, then kissed him on the cheek for good measure.
“Okay, I didn’t need that,” Fen said, pushing him away an
d wiping his cheek.
“How else will you know how happy I am to see you again?” Cowley asked with a grin.
“You could try telling me.”
“Not as much fun.”
“You sure do almost end up dead a lot,” Noah observed. “More than anyone I ever knew. Even more than Crazy Eddie, and that guy almost died every other day it seemed like.”
“It’s not a good habit to have,” Fen said.
“What happened?” Lukas wanted to know.
“Lowellin saved my life.” He recounted the events.
“That was close,” Cowley said when he’d finished. “Too close. That could have gone either way.”
“But it worked out, and now two more of our enemies are out of the way.”
“Still, that was luck. You can’t count on that all the time. You never should have put yourself in that position.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Fen said. “I acted on instinct. You saw what that man did.”
“You mean that man?” Strout said, pointing at the man who was lying on the deck with blood on his face.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Fen asked.
“I wanted to,” Strout said.
“So did I,” Noah put in.
“But Lukas made me stop.”
“Samkaran soldiers don’t just kill unarmed civilians,” Lukas said, crossing his arms and giving the two of them a stern look.
“No, we don’t,” Fen said. “You were right to stop them.”
“He almost got you killed,” Noah protested.
“It was my choice that almost got me killed,” Fen replied. “Not his.”
“Stop,” Cowley said. “Don’t say another word, Noah. You know how he is, disgustingly noble and everything. You won’t get anywhere with him.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Noah replied. “Not so much as a thanks.” He went and sat back down.
“Any chance Lowellin could let us out of here, now that the sorcerers are dead?” Cowley asked. “I wouldn’t say no to some fresh air. It stinks pretty bad down here.”
“Actually, I didn’t think to ask him.”
“You forgot to ask if you and your friends could get out of their cell?” Cowley asked, a look of incredulity on his face. “What else did you forget? Your shoes? Your name?”
“Lay off,” Gage said. “He almost died. That’s kind of an important thing. Important enough that other stuff gets forgotten.”
“He wanted me out of there. He said the Ichthalids must have sensed the battle, and they’d be checking up on it.”
“If we could get those ingerlings out of him, he’d be pretty useful against the Ichthalids, I’m thinking,” Lukas said.
“I think if he didn’t have the ingerlings any more, he’d just take off I bet,” Gage said. “He’d have no reason to help us.”
“You’re probably right,” Lukas conceded.
“I wonder how much longer it’s going to take to reach land,” Noah said. “I’m starting to really hate the sea.” The others had mostly gotten over their seasickness, but Noah was still suffering from it.
A soldier came down the stairs and walked over to their cell. “Sergeant Flint says we’re to let you up on deck for a few. Get you some air.” He paused with the key in the lock. “Are you going to give us trouble?” He winked at Fen as he said this, and Fen realized he must be one of the soldiers that Flint had confided in.
“No, sir,” Fen said.
As they and the slaves who were imprisoned with them filed out onto the deck, the soldier called out to two soldiers who were standing nearby, “Hey, Hobbes. You and Gurney get some swabs and buckets and get down there and muck that cell out.” Grumbling, the men moved to do as they were told.
“Fresh air,” Cowley said, standing next to Fen at the railing. “I forgot what it was like.”
Fen looked around. There was no land to be seen in any direction. To the west was a bank of thick clouds. The other two new ships and the black ship were spread out around them on the water, the black ship in the lead. There was no sign of the Ichthalids on its deck.
“You think there’s another one like you where we’re going?” Cowley asked.
“Someone gave Lowellin those scars.”
“I sure hope so. We can use all the help we can get. I wonder what he’s doing right now.”
“What makes you so sure it’s a he?” Fen asked, remembering Ravin’s words.
Chapter 30
The day was coming to an end. Treylen was sitting under his favorite tree, Randel lying on his back snoring nearby, oblivious to the high tide that was licking at his feet. Days had passed since the gromdin’s attack, and nothing new had happened. Lowellin had not appeared out of the shadows to try and steal the fragment. No Devourers appeared on the horizon. Aislin spent her days practicing with Seaforce or swimming far off the coast. She spoke little or not at all. Summer was sliding into fall with no hint that anything out of the ordinary would ever happen.
Yet Treylen knew something was coming. It was like a buzzing deep in his bones. The calm days were like the moments of stillness before a tornado struck. The storm was coming, and it looked more and more like Aislin would have to face it alone. He wished the boy to the north, the one with power over the wind, was here. He wished they had some idea where the other child was, the one who could Shape the stone. He knew such wishes were pointless, but that didn’t make them go away.
Every day he asked Aislin if she’d sensed the Devourers’ presence on the sea yet, and every day she either shook her head or ignored him. But the last few days he’d felt something different in her response. She was covering something up. He’d thought to send word to the macht, but what was he supposed to say? That she wasn’t being truthful with him? What good would that do? If she wouldn’t tell him about it, she wouldn’t tell the macht either. He’d thought about speaking to her mother about it but didn’t think that would help either. As always, the only thing to do with Aislin was be patient and wait. She would speak when she wanted to, and not before.
Even if they did have forewarning of the Devourers’ arrival, Treylen couldn’t see what good it would do. No power found in muscle or steel would stand against the power of the Abyss. Only Aislin had any chance, and she was already doing all she could to prepare.
All that was left was to wait. Fortunately, Treylen was good at waiting.
Footsteps on the sand as someone approached. Treylen turned his head and saw a servant approaching, a young boy with the Reminder emblem of the Tenders embroidered on his tunic. He cast uneasy glances at the sea as he drew near. Probably this was the closest he’d ever been to it. It always amazed Treylen how suspicious and fearful of the sea most of the people of Qarath were. They all knew the legends of the great War of Sea and Stone, of course, but their fear of the sea was deeper than that now, almost an animal instinct.
“What word do you bring?” he asked the lad.
“A message from Netra,” the boy replied, stopping when he was still a bit far away for normal conversation. He frowned, concentrating on remembering the message precisely. “She wishes me to say that she will not be returning tonight. There is an outbreak of the rose fever in the Warrens, and her help is needed there.”
“Thank you,” Treylen replied.
“Do you wish me to carry a reply?” the boy asked.
Treylen briefly considered it, then shook his head. There was no way to tell how close the danger was. It might still be days away. But the danger posed by the rose fever was all too real. Without the help of Netra and the other Tenders, scores of people might die.
As the boy ran off, Randel snorted and sat up, blinking sleepily.
“You look rested,” Treylen told him.
Randel rubbed his eyes. “I am.”
“I’m glad to see you’re not letting the stress of the job wear you down.”
Randel laughed. “This is the greatest job ever. I mean, guarding the Tender estate was easy, mind you, but this is a whole new
level of easy. Nothing to do but lie around all day and sleep.”
“I thought you were supposed to be guarding Aislin. Where’s your sword?”
Randel felt around him in the sand, then said sheepishly, “I guess I forgot it at your place.”
“You’re getting sloppy.”
“I can’t do much with it anyway. I’ll try to remember to bring it tomorrow, though.”
“You’re not going to go get it right now?” Treylen asked with a faint smile.
“It’s getting late. There’s no point in walking clear over there now.” The roof of the hut was visible from where they sat, only about a hundred paces away.
Aislin came out of the sea around dark. She nodded to the two of them and headed for the tiny hut the four of them shared. Randel and Treylen got up and followed her.
While they were chopping potatoes and carrots for dinner, Randel asked Treylen, “What do you actually do?”
“As little as possible,” Treylen responded.
“I said that wrong. I meant before. When you weren’t so old. What did you do?”
“How do you know I haven’t always been old?”
Randel grinned. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
“When I was young I tried being a thief for a spell.”
Randel stopped chopping to look at him in surprise. “You were a thief?”
“Not a very good one. I have clumsy fingers. I kept dropping the purses.”
“Did you get caught?”
“Don’t all thieves get caught sooner or later?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been one.”
“Then I spent some time as a dancer. That didn’t work out too well either. It turns out I have clumsy feet as well.” Randel chuckled.
Aislin spoke up suddenly, surprising them both. “You’re doing that thing again, where you think you’re funny but you’re not.” She was sitting by the tiny fireplace, and she actually looked over at them when she spoke.
Treylen stuck his chin out. “Randel thinks I’m funny.”
“What does he know? He’s not funny either.”
“I’ve made you laugh before,” Randel protested.
“I don’t think so.”
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