The Prince of the Veil

by Hal Emerson

  “Whoa, there!” Davydd said as he rode up to the group with Lorna at his side. Raven’s horse, Melyngale, reared back and tried to strike out at him as he came close, shocked and frightened by the noise and action, but Davydd’s horse Aron pranced out of the way. “I know you’re falling for each other, but was a practical demonstration really necessary?”

  “We need to go to Lerne,” Raven croaked, before he started hacking and coughing. He felt as though his lungs had been wrung out, and any remaining air in them was not nearly enough. His fingers and toes were on fire, but not with lack of air – suddenly, he knew exactly where to go and what to do, and every second spent not getting there made him more and more anxious.

  Leah was bent over, hands on her hips, coughing and hacking as well, breathing in huge rolling gasps as Tomaz tried to steady her.

  “By the seven hells,” Autmaran said, looking poleaxed, “what just happened?”

  “The foolish slip of a girl touched the Blade,” Tomaz said, his fear for Leah’s safety manifesting as a bright flare of anger. “And she got thrown on her butt for her carelessness.”

  “That’s – that’s not all,” Raven managed to get out. His vision was still hazy, but he was regaining it slowly. It was as if he’d used his sight all up at one time and his body was only slowly able to restore normal functions.

  “Saw something – when I touched it,” Leah gasped, holding to Tomaz for support. “Like – like you in Roarke!”

  Autmaran looked at her with complete bemusement, an expression that matched the bewilderment on Lorna’s face and the befuddlement on Davydd’s. But as Tomaz heard the words, his fear for his Eshendai partner’s safety turned to understanding, and he caught Raven’s gaze.

  “The Aspect of Sight went to you,” Tomaz rumbled.

  Raven nodded frantically, but spoke no more. A crowd of soldiers was gathering, and a number of under officers and platoon captains were approaching.

  “Is everything all right, sir?” asked the first to reach them – Jaillin, from the Wall at Banelyn. He wouldn’t meet Raven’s eyes – he was speaking to Autmaran.

  “Indeed,” Commander Autmaran said. “We move on as soon as we’ve cleared the town. Get your men to work, captain.”

  Jaillin turned and started shouting to the others that there was nothing to be seen and that they should go about their business.

  “We need to go,” Raven rasped, his voice still weak but gaining strength.

  “We can’t leave yet,” Davydd said, exasperated. “We know you want to go, but there’s no reason to just move on. We need the supplies, and a few hours’ delay –”

  “To Lerne,” Raven finished.

  The others fell silent, and then Davydd threw up his hands.

  “Shadows and fire, princeling! I don’t even have a clever thing to say – are you intentionally pissing us off?”

  “What did you see?”

  “It’s empty,” Raven rasped, trying to form his thoughts into coherent sentences but finding himself unable to do so. The shock of what he’d seen was still with him, and it was dulling his wits. He locked eyes with Leah, who was breathing deeply through her nose, and saw she was watching him right back. A shadow had fallen over her face, and he could see that she too wanted to be gone - now. Her green eyes were cold, like chips of ice dug up at midnight.

  Had she seen the same thing? Was that how it worked?

  “That’s why we’re refilling supplies,” Autmaran said, “because the town –”

  “It’s not just the town,” Raven said quickly, harshly. “There’s no one in the city!”

  The pronouncement didn’t register with them at first. They all stared at him blankly, all expect for Leah, who was looking far away now, confirming for Raven that she too had seen the empty streets and the lifeless buildings.

  “You mean no guard?” Autmaran asked. “You’re saying we should take the city? I’ll assemble the men –”

  “No,” Raven said quickly, finally catching a full breath. “I mean no one. The city is empty – there is not a single life left there, be it guard, Commons, or High Blood.”

  He glanced quickly at Leah, and as soon as their eyes met he knew they wordlessly agreed on what to do next.

  “How many?” she asked.

  “Fifty at most,” he said. “Only the fastest. Only Rogues. I don’t understand the rest of it, but we’re walking into a trap, and I have no idea how quickly we’ll need to get back out again.”

  She nodded and left, mounting her horse in a dexterous leap, calling out names even as she left. Raven caught Tomaz’s eye as well, and the big man nodded too, spinning his horse to leave with her. Tomaz understood best what had just happened – when Tiffenal had infiltrated Banelyn and killed Elder Goldwyn, Raven had given Tomaz Aemon’s Blade so that the Aspect of Strength would flow to Raven, allowing him the strength to follow his brother through the secret passage in the mountains. In theory, it was the same thing that would happen to any of them if they grabbed Aemon’s Blade – it allowed them to transfer the abilities of their Aspect or Talisman to Raven.

  That feeling … like something had been torn….

  “If we move quickly we can be there and back before sundown,” Autmaran said, having caught on to what Leah and Tomaz had left to do. He stopped speaking when he saw the expression on Raven’s face, and focused on him. “You saw something else, didn’t you?”

  “There’s something there we have to find out,” he said finally. “I can’t say anymore than that, because I don’t fully understand it myself. But we need to see it. If we don’t … I don’t know. I’m not sure how if affects us. All I know is that I was right in that Symanta wouldn’t stay behind – but very, very wrong about how she would leave.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure,” Raven mumbled. “Shadows and light, I’m never completely sure of anything anymore. But we need to go – and we need to do it quickly, before night falls. We need to be back here, ready to move out, as soon as possible.”

  Autmaran watched him for a long moment, and then slowly nodded.

  “I assume Leah is out gathering a force and Tomaz is organizing the troops to stay here until we return?” he asked.

  Raven nodded.

  “I guess I should abandon any illusions I have left that I’m the actual Commander of this army,” he said. “When do we leave?”

  “Now,” said Leah, riding back into their midst, her horse breathing heavy. “Tomaz will meet up with us on the edge of the town.”

  “I want to go too.”

  Every eye turned to see Tym, his blonde hair swaying as he looked back and forth between them, standing just inside their circle. The small boy was shaking slightly at his own audacity, as if amazed he’d had the courage to come forward and say what he’d just said. Davydd shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Raven, and then at Lorna, who shook her head. He opened his mouth, and then seemed to change his mind. His eyes flicked to Raven again. When he finally spoke, it was slowly, with none of his usual swagger.

  “I don’t know exactly what’s happening, Tym,” he said slowly, “but the feeling I get is that Lerne is no place for children.”

  “I’m not a child!” Tym protested hotly, his tone and gaze making him somehow hard to look at. “I’m your helper. All of you. That’s my job – you said it was – and you don’t ever let me help anymore. I’m here to help you win – I helped Tomaz beat Daemons in Banelyn, and I helped the Healers fix the hurt people, and then I promised I’d – we all did – that we’d make sure…. I’m a helper, and you might need help in the city, so I’m going.”

  His blue eyes were burning fiercely, and yet his chest and small hands were trembling with nerves.

  “Tym,” Raven said, as softly as he could, “it isn’t safe. I’m sorry.”

  The boy’s bravado and certainty disappeared like a puff of smoke, and suddenly he was looking down at the ground and his small, booted feet.

  “Oh – okay,
Prince Raven,” he said, and Raven knew from the quiver in his voice that the boy was trying not to cry. “Okay.”

  Tym bobbed his head in a strange little bow, and then was gone.

  Silence stretched between them all for a moment.

  “He’s right,” Leah said abruptly. “He needs to be with us.”

  “Did you see something?” Davydd asked.

  “I saw that he needs to be with us,” she said simply.

  “When we get back,” Raven said. “Not now. I’m not putting him in harm’s way.”

  Leah just stared at him, and Raven tried not to look. He reached out and drew on the Wolf Talisman and Raven Talisman both, taking in as much of their power as he could. He would hold onto all the power he could gather; he would need it before the end.

  “Let’s go.”

  They took fifty Rogues with them, leaving the Rangers and Scouts to circle the city and report back when they all returned to camp at nightfall. Raven supported Leah’s choice: The Rogues knew city streets, and many of the ones she’d chosen had worked in Lerne before.

  “Be ready for traps,” Raven said quickly as they met on the edge of the city, on the road leading west. “The Seekers like to protect their secrets, and this is where they call home. Look before you leap – always.”

  He barely waited for the others to nod before spurring Melyngale to a full run, shooting down the road, pulling off to the side when possible to spare the horse’s knees. His skin had begun to itch, and the anxious energy pooling in the tips of his fingers and toes did not abate. With every moment that passed his anxiety grew stronger. What had happened there? What was it they needed to understand?

  An hour passed in silence, until they crested the final rise.

  The city of Lerne was situated in a bowl formation in the foot of the Elmist Mountains. The city itself, tall stone and mortar flying the green serpent crest of Symanta, shone in the morning sun. Mist curled around it like questing fingers, though the rising heat of day was already pushing the fog back into the Mountains. The sight was breathtaking, but it was not the beauty of the scene they focused on, nor the wonderful carvings that adorned the walls. It was the lack they saw, the emptiness that seemed to surround the city and engulf it, even more entirely than the retreating mist. No motion stirred, no noise rang out, but for the listless flapping of the banners flying from the unmanned walls.

  The city was abandoned, and its gates yawned open, inviting them in.

  “Do you sense anything yet?” Leah asked him.

  “No,” Raven said, trying to keep the growing apprehension from his voice, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating a beat too fast and his lungs were fighting against being squeezed.

  “You’re certain.”

  “Yes. I keep trying, but I can’t. It’s like … how I’d imagine being deaf. There’s usually something – some kind of background noise almost, like a hum and a few clusters of light. But … there’s nothing. When I close my eyes and reach out … there’s only darkness everywhere around us.”

  They looked at each other, their eyes meeting briefly.

  “Stay close to me,” he told her, before he could stop himself.

  “Likewise,” she replied, holding his gaze.

  They continued forward, now at a slower pace that gave them time to examine the outer rock wall of the city, and the way the light seemed to lose strength as it tried to force its way through the morning mist. Before they were ready, they were just outside the gate. There was no damage, either to the wood or the stone that held it; it had simply been left unlocked and open, like the door to an abandoned house. A group of Rogues, twelve in all, crossed through first, and after a brief, nerve-wracking time away, returned and signaled them to follow.

  As they rode through, the first impression Raven had was the smell of neglect. It was a smell that was so strong it was almost a feeling, and yet so unusual he almost couldn’t place it. The air was stale, as if it had been left unused for days, weeks even. There was a faint hint of rotting food in the distance, and human waste as well, maybe even coming from inside the homes. There was something below that too, something sharp and metallic, but it was thin and tenuous, as if coming to them from a great distance.

  Raven absorbed the sight of it next, and with it the sound, the two coming together in strange harmony, for the only sights and sounds were those of objects, not of people. There were no guards on the walls, no men or women walking the streets. Doors hung open, swaying slightly in the kind of soft breeze that usually goes unnoticed, but in the strange emptiness seemed amplified.

  None of them spoke; none of them dared. The silence felt both deadly and sacred, as if breaking it was somehow dangerous and wrong. The city was empty in every sense of the word, and carelessly so. The people here hadn’t gotten up, packed for holiday, and left en masse. Doors were open up and down the street, and Raven could see through the nearby doors that tables had been laid, with molding bread and meat still on the plate.

  What has happened here?

  With a small movement of his wrist, he signaled the others to follow him. They spread out: Leah and Tomaz moved to his right, Lorna and Davydd to his left, while Autmaran and the rest followed close behind.

  The city was simply planned, with one long boulevard that bisected the homes into two groups and led straight for the distant Prince’s Palace, a surprisingly modest affair compared to some of the other Imperial seats Raven had seen in the past year. The modesty, however, was only a façade. The Palace was set up against the steepest section of mountain; right before the cliff face took off, soaring hundreds of feet into the air.

  “Strangely simple for an Imperial palace,” Autmaran commented, echoing Raven’s thoughts. His voice, normally strong and commanding, was muted here, and barely audible. He hadn’t whispered, but it seemed like he had.

  “There is always more to the Snake than meets the eye,” Tomaz rumbled. His voice, unlike Autmaran’s, could not or would not be muted – his deep bass echoed up and down the streets, and Raven had the sudden urge to tackle the big man to the ground and silence him.

  There could be shadows waiting in this silence.

  “What do you mean?” Autmaran asked.

  “He means the Palace you see there is a ruse,” Leah broke in, speaking quietly too. She shot a look at Tomaz that quite clearly told him to be quiet, but it slid right off. “It extends into the mountain behind it. The whole cliff side is hollowed out – its where the Seekers live.”

  “And where they pray to the lovely, lovely Empress,” Davydd added. “Don’t forget that.”

  Autmaran looked about to speak again, but seemed to decide against it, looking around him at the rooftops still covered in morning mist. The others didn’t press him – any noise at all seemed to be too much, even the ringing of their horses hooves on the hard paving stones of the boulevard. As they made their way further in, the city’s divide became more and more clear. The Rogues came back and reported what they’d seen on either side of the boulevard, and their picture of the city became more complete. The houses on their left were cramped and narrow, with spider web streets that jutted out and around at odd angles to recombine in a strange patchwork further in. The buildings themselves were painted wood, with the paint often chipped; cramped merchant shops seemed to occupy every corner, with the odd inn or two every few blocks, while every other building was a rickety panoply of living spaces.

  The right side of the boulevard opened up onto wide parks, buildings with stone and plaster molding, and straight roads that met at right corners. The houses there grew more and more expansive until they butted up against where the wall met the mountainside; mansions lounged there, sprawling between walled gardens and once-flowing fountains that now lay silent and still.

  But on both sides of the street, the shops were full of goods, the inns left vacant, and the homes, grand and poor alike, lay uniformly deserted.

  “It’s as if everyone just picked up and left,” Lorna whispered,
her hoarse voice barely audible.

  “No,” Tomaz rumbled, breaking the silence once more with his booming voice. “It’s not like that at all.”

  “Tomaz, speak softly,” Leah hissed at him.

  “Why?” he boomed. “If this is a trap, it wasn’t for us, and it’s already sprung.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “These people didn’t get up and leave, and we all know that. These people were taken from their homes – even the Most High.”

  Everyone in earshot, which, in the deadly quiet of the city, was most of the group, stiffened and exchanged looks. Many of the Rogues looked worried, and some even looked angry, but none raised a voice to disagree.

  “There are no signs of struggle,” Davydd said.

  “No,” Tomaz said, eyeing the shorter man. “But they are gone nonetheless.”

  “Where did they take them, then?” Autmaran asked.

  “We’re in the city of the Seekers and the Snake Prince,” Tomaz rumbled. “Where do you think they took them?”

  With his heavily bearded chin, he motioned to the distant cliff side and the palace façade that masked it. He eyed them all and then heeled his huge black charger Gydion past them, taking the lead. They followed him, all at a loss for words.

  The palace loomed over them as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The Rogues continued to scout to either side of the boulevard, combing through houses at random to see if a trace of anyone had been left behind. Some of them came back with torn clothing, and some reported dried blood – how long it had been there, they couldn’t say. At least a week, was the universal guess.

  A week. The city had been emptied only days after they’d won Banelyn and killed Dysuna.

  “When one of the Children dies,” Raven said softly, “the rest of us can feel it. It’s like being hit upside the head and kicked in the groin at the same time. You lose your breath, you can’t see straight, and you start gasping for air. We’re all connected through the Diamond Crown … and we can feel each other, though only to a very small extent.”