Visioner

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Visioner Page 11

by K K Ness


  That certainly complicated matters. Danil swallowed his dismay.

  “What else?” Hafryn pressed Elania. “There’s little left of our would-be assassin to go on.”

  “She’s very weak, Hafryn,” Elania explained. “It’s surprising that she held out long enough for me to come, though I suppose it helped that Griff hardly stopped to rest on our journey.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a custodian has cheated death,” Hafryn muttered. He sighed. “Very well. It’s more than we had to go on earlier today, at least.”

  “Did Freyna mention anything else?” Danil asked. “Like what happened in the catacombs?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Danil.”

  The rustle of cloth made Danil turn to see a young man in healer robes.

  “Custodian Freyna would speak with you, Custodian Danil,” he said with a respectful bow.

  Danil threw Hafryn a startled look.

  Elania shrugged. “Sonnen is with her still, trying to piece events together.”

  The young man motioned Danil to follow.

  Danil trailed after him to a private room. It was plainly adorned with a bed and side table with a basin of water. A chair sat beside the bed, a small window above it showing swiftly moving clouds and the peak of a nearby mountain. Sonnen leaned against the wall, a slight breeze pulling his dark hair.

  Freyna seemed to be asleep, her white hair spread about her on the pillow and blankets pulled up to her chin. She appeared frail in a way Danil hadn’t considered possible.

  “Don’t stay overlong,” the young healer spoke softly before closing the door with a gentle click.

  Sonnen pointed to the chair.

  Lowering himself, Danil delicately took Freyna’s hand.

  Her eyes opened a crack. Seeing him, she smiled slightly. “Honored custodian,” she murmured.

  His eyes suddenly stung. “Honored custodian,” he repeated with a bow of his head.

  “Shh, not your fault,” Freyna rasped.

  Danil nodded, struggling to free the words lodged in his throat.

  “You’ve been searching my books,” she murmured, mouth tilting slightly as she looked to Sonnen.

  “Yes, Hafryn and I. That word—”

  “Videre.” She weakly tapped the corner of her eye.

  Danil said, “No one seems to know it.”

  “The ability to See,” she murmured, eyes closing. “I could teach you—” She coughed suddenly.

  Danil grabbed the cup of water on the side table, helping her sit up to drink.

  Taking fragile sips, Freyna collapsed back with a sigh. “Another time, Danil. But know that custodians are unique among Amas. Our enchantments are not our own.”

  Danil tried his best to understand. “You mean the leylines decide.”

  She nodded, her eyes sliding shut again.

  Danil sat back in the chair. “The first time I saw a Trueform—” He stopped, swallowing.

  “It was a time of great need,” Sonnen murmured, his voice a deep rumble in the small room.

  “Yes,” Danil whispered.

  Freyna gave an echo of a smile. “Concentrate, and you will see far more.”

  “But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted in frustration.

  She patted his hand gently. “Few of us ever really do.”

  It was hardly helpful. Even now, Emissary Arlyn was swaying the High Council to her demands. Danil could not entertain the thought that the results would be good for Kailon.

  He couldn’t shake the sense of approaching danger. With the High Council refusing to even see him, he feared time was running out.

  “You should revisit the first crystal, Danil,” Freyna murmured. “I can feel it calling for you.”

  Startled, Danil leaned forward. “Does it know what videre means—can it show me?”

  She squeezed his hand. “Be careful. It doesn’t always give you the answers you want.”

  “I will. Thank you, Freyna.” He studied her pale face. She seemed smaller somehow. The edge of a bandage showed at her collarbone. “Will you be okay?”

  Freyna’s eyes opened, the irises mellow. “I am not done with this world yet,” she murmured. “Although it is indeed nearing the time that I announce my search for a successor.”

  Sonnen huffed. “A bit premature, Freyna.”

  She waved a hand. “You simply can’t abide the posturing of those who think themselves deserving,” she replied. “You prefer folk who don’t yet know the measure of their potential.”

  The dragon prince folded his arms.

  Danil thought of Elania and the veins of light running through her Trueform. They were so like Freyna’s own iridescent bird, which sat at the end of the bed looking ragged but stubborn.

  Freyna’s gaze momentarily sharpened. “You see much for someone new to our ways, Danil.”

  He shook his head. “I hope to one day have your insight.”

  She smiled and settled back into the pillows. “One challenge at a time, custodian.”

  19

  Danil left the healing hall and found Hafryn waiting for him on a bench seat in the corridor outside. The wolf shifter leaped to his feet, face brimming with questions.

  “Care to join me in the catacombs?” Danil asked.

  “Of course,” Hafryn said with a raised eyebrow and fell into step beside him. “But first, how’s Freyna?”

  “She says she’ll be fine.” It eased a knot in his belly.

  The four Eyrie guards peeled away from their station at the end of the corridor, following at a respectful distance.

  “Custodians are known for their stubbornness.” Hafryn bumped his shoulder affectionately against Danil’s. “Elania is headed off on some errands now that the greatest danger has passed. She says to stay out of trouble until she can join in.”

  Danil couldn’t help but smile. “I hope you didn’t make any promises.”

  Hafryn gave a soft huff. “Hardly. Did you tell Sonnen about the High Council?”

  Shaking his head, Danil said, “It didn’t seem the place, not with Freyna so weakened.”

  “At least we have a lead on her attacker.”

  Danil eyed Hafryn as they strode down a stairwell. The air felt cooler as they neared the arched entrance to the catacombs, though there was no dampness like the tunnels he was used to in Kailon.

  “I don’t suppose Elania’s errands have anything to do with finding the panther?” Danil asked.

  A chagrined gleam showed in Hafryn’s eyes.

  Danil paused under the catacomb archway. “You can’t ask me to sit around again, Hafryn. I won’t do it.”

  The wolf shifter faltered, clearly wanting to argue. He sighed. “If Elania finds something of interest, we’ll deal with it together.”

  “Finally,” Danil grunted and took the water-smooth corridor leading to the first crystal.

  Shouts rang out behind them, and Danil flinched instinctively. The Eyrie retreated from the entrance, pointing at the glyphs on the archway. The glyphs shone gold with flashes of red. One Eyrie attempted to approach again, but an invisible force seemed to hold her still.

  “Are you doing that?” Hafryn asked, gaping.

  Shaking his head, Danil said, “I wouldn’t know how.”

  Hafryn suddenly grinned in realization. He swaggered back toward the entrance, eyeing the archway. “Looks like you folk aren’t welcome in the catacombs,” he told the Eyrie with a wink.

  The woman bared her teeth.

  With a jaunty wave, Hafryn said, “By all means, wait for our return.” He ambled back to Danil.

  Danil waited until they were out of earshot. “I’m not sure they appreciate your humor, Hafryn.”

  The wolf huffed. “The cleansing ritual means they can’t use violence for another ten days. Besides, I’m more of an irritant than an enemy of consequence.”

  Danil hoped they’d long returned to Kailon before the Eyrie decided otherwise.

  They entered the chambe
r. The first crystal flamed gold and red to match the archway outside but suddenly turned blue as if noticing Danil’s arrival. The smaller stone about his neck trilled in his mind.

  Hafryn loitered at the doorway. “What exactly did Freyna want you to do here?”

  Shrugging, Danil said, “She wasn’t specific. Just that I should be here.” He circled the huge crystal. Little bursts of light pulsed from its depths.

  Arms folded, Hafryn muttered something under his breath. Danil thought he heard the words ‘custodian’ and ‘mysticism’. He snorted.

  “Freyna wouldn’t waste our time,” Danil said.

  “Aye, but she’s not exactly at her best right now,” Hafryn muttered.

  Lifting his gaze to the highest point of the crystal, Danil said, “I think she suggested coming here for that very reason. She said videre are people who See.”

  “See what, fala?”

  He shrugged helplessly.

  Part of the crystal darkened to deep azure and formed the shape of a hand in its depths. It seemed to pull at Danil. His fingers twitched in response.

  Hafryn pushed off the doorway. “This doesn’t seem wise.” He drew close. “There are stories of first crystals causing death and mauling of folk who dared touch them.”

  The hand-shaped light pulsed steadily.

  “I hope this is an invitation, then,” Danil murmured.

  Against his better judgment, he touched the crystal.

  The roar of flames filled his ears, his sight smothered by a red veil. Smoke bit deep into his lungs. Danil’s throat constricted.

  The red veil lifted. Two figures strode through the banked fire. One was a man, broad-shouldered and brooding. Behind him was a grotesquely misshapen Trueform, blackened with a horse’s body but a strange, melted head discernible only by cold blue eyes and exposed teeth.

  “Kaul,” Danil breathed, trembling.

  His companion, a white-haired woman with a cloak pulled tight about her, knelt atop a slab of granite. Behind her was the tunnel leading down to the Temple of Kaul. At her feet was a glyph. Danil recognized the strange silvery glow. It matched the protective glyphs hidden from sight in the catacombs.

  The hairs on the back of Danil’s neck rose.

  She chiseled the pattern of the glyph into the stone, then diffidently moved aside.

  With sharpened claws studded with reddened kiandrite, Kaul raked across the glyph. The light sputtered. Kaul wove a symbol in the air, watching as it took shape and then sank into the ground.

  The glyph died.

  Danil felt the wrenching pain of it in his chest.

  The woman suddenly spied Danil through the smoke. “Videre,” she growled. Pulling a blade from her belt, she stormed toward him.

  Danil backed up, arms out. His boot caught on a ledge of stone, and he fell backward.

  “Danil!”

  He came to himself on his back a few feet away from the crystal. Sweat filmed his face. His lungs hardly seemed to work.

  Hafryn gripped his shoulders, shaking them, his green eyes panicked. “Danil!”

  “I’m—” He coughed, then sucked in cool air. “I’m okay. I’m here.”

  “You disappeared!” Hafryn’s voice rang out in the chamber. “There was no trace of you!”

  Hands trembling, Danil wiped his face. “I went—somewhere? There was Kaul. He did something to a glyph, killed it. He destroyed the glyph on purpose.”

  Hafryn sat back on his heels, pale-faced and shaken.

  Easing himself up to sitting, Danil gazed up at the crystal. It glowed a mellow, satisfied blue. “Kaul had a companion. She was helping him find hidden glyphs. I—I think she was videre.” His gaze fell back to Hafryn. “She knew I was the same. How could she know that, Hafryn? How did she even notice me?”

  “I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.” The wolf helped Danil up onto his feet.

  Momentarily dizzy, Danil thought he saw the ruined glyph take shape within the light of the crystal. He blinked, and it was gone.

  “I’d prefer if we didn’t linger, fala. Losing you once is enough for today.” Hafryn’s voice was shaky as he threw one of Danil’s arms across his shoulder and half-carried him out of the chamber.

  “We have to tell the High Council,” Danil stated.

  “Tell them what? That you had a vision that showed a woman helping Kaul strip us of our enchanter heritage?” Hafryn growled. “And that you share her exact same talents?”

  Danil bit his lip in understanding.

  Hafryn eased him onto a bench seat. He threw an anxious look toward the arched entrance to the catacombs. “Catch your breath. But say nothing until we can speak of this to Sonnen.”

  Danil nodded, defeated. The taste of smoke lingered in his mouth.

  20

  Viren waited for them outside the catacombs.

  Somewhat steadier on his feet, Danil nonetheless felt a moment of disorientation as the Eyrie councilor’s Trueform paced the length of floor just beyond the archway. Its russet coat bristled in agitation. Viren himself appeared calm, green eyes mild. He leaned against the stone wall beside the stairs, arms folded in such a familiar manner that Danil couldn’t help but think of Hafryn.

  Hafryn muttered something under his breath. They strode under the archway without so much as a spark of light from the glyphs.

  “Are you done being a fool, Hafryn?” Viren asked as he straightened. The four guards waited at the base of the stairs, expressions sour.

  Hafryn released a humorless laugh. “Pretty sure I’m not, but for reasons different to whatever you’re referring to, cousin.”

  Viren fell in step with them as they climbed the stairs. “The assassin, cousin. Your enemies may yet send another, but you let the human walk about unprotected.”

  “The catacombs are hardly unprotected,” Danil muttered.

  The Eyrie councilor gave him a hard, assessing look.

  “You sound like you’ve found something,” Hafryn said, his eyes narrow.

  “Sonnen discussed what Custodian Freyna saw of her attacker,” Viren hedged.

  Hafryn slowed. “And?” he pressed.

  Viren smiled. “Panthers are by nature rather solitary, so they tend to get noticed. One such fellow happened to rent accommodation down at the harbor square—paid up for a week and hasn’t been seen for a few days. Not since your human’s would-be assassin met his end, in any case.”

  Straightening, Danil said to Hafryn, “Sounds like a decent lead.”

  Viren nodded. “The innkeeper is of a mind to throw out the panther’s possessions. There might be something useful to prove he was indeed your would-be assassin.”

  “And perhaps information about whoever paid for his services.” Hafryn eyed Danil. “Care for a bit of snooping?”

  Startled, Danil asked, “What about Sonnen?”

  “I understand Sonnen is in meetings with Councilor Tresa,” Viren said. He paused in thought. “It may be fine to wait until after you’ve attended to whatever is so pressing with the prince.”

  Hafryn scrubbed his chin. “We may lose our chance if the innkeeper throws out that gear before we have our chance.”

  Viren gave a smooth smile. “I can send a few of my people in your stead, cousin.”

  “A generous offer,” Hafryn said, baring teeth in his own humorless grin. “I’d prefer to see for myself.”

  The Eyrie councilor bowed his head.

  Danil bit his lip. “I’m not staying behind,” he muttered. With a nod, he added, “And in truth, if it means getting out of Corros for a span, lead on.”

  They took one of the outer stairwells that followed the juts and plateaus of the cliffs. Unlit lamps dotted the path.

  Danil felt drawn to the vista of the harbor town below. It stretched out along the banks of the lake. A few skiffs rode the serene water. Three piers jutted far into the depths, and Danil could make out sailors and tradesfolk with their wares displayed on the wooden boardwalks.

  The path widened to allow
wagons into the lower levels of the citadel. Danil stepped to the side to enable a caravaner to clatter past, her wares clanging beneath the canvas.

  The road followed the gentle curve of the lake, the buildings a mixture of single and two-story structures with inner courtyards lined with plants and brightly colored urns and bench chairs. Larges pockets of trees and fernery took up sections of the township, all surrounded by cobbled streets and buildings. Danil had never seen the like. Overhead, Corros was a glittering mass of balconies and stairwells, with flashes of kiandrite painting the cliff in golds and blues.

  The inn stood close to the central pier. It was a simple, two-story building with a thatched roof and stone steps leading into the aleroom. A warm glow filtered through the shutters, and within came the sound of laughter and the strum of a lute.

  A sudden wash of homesickness swept over Danil.

  The inn reminded him of Farin. He rarely thought of his home village, nor the people he’d lost so that King Liam could launch his war against Amas. He felt far removed from the deadland scavenger who’d once dared to steal a magi book.

  Hafryn slowed to match his pace. “What is it?”

  Shaking his thoughts loose, Danil murmured, “Nothing.”

  Hafryn watched him a moment longer before nodding. “Let’s get upstairs.”

  The four guards stayed outside as they entered the aleroom filled with late afternoon patrons. A bard sat on a chair in one corner, strumming a ditty and tightening the strings of her lute.

  Viren handed the serving woman a gold coin, bending close to murmur in her ear.

  She indicated the stairs behind the bar.

  Upstairs in a dimly-lit corridor, Viren strode to the very end. The Eyrie councilor eased the door open to the darkened room and quietly slipped inside.

  Hafryn paused to draw his dagger. “Stay cautious, fala.”

  Danil nodded.

  The room was finer than Danil expected, with an ornately carved bed and large dresser. A woven rug covered much of the floor. At the foot of the bed was a battered traveling trunk that seemed incongruous with the rest of the room.

  Hafryn made for the trunk, rifling through the contents of tunics and undergarments. “Check the dresser,” he said to Danil with a point of his chin.

 

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