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Weimerk ignored this. He was not this boy’s teacher. <>
This frightened the boy. He had squeezed his eyes shut, and his heart hammered in his chest. <
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* * *
• • •
Pollik Kvar felt for his jewel and lifted it to his eye.
“Good news, my lord.” It was the Shekayrin in charge of tracking down the princess. “We have discovered them and taken them prisoner. One is a witch. She is netted and harmless. We have not yet executed her, but we are prepared to do so.”
“Keep her alive.” As with the boy in Gaena, there might be information to be had, now that she was netted and safe. “Does the princess have her mask with her?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Kvar bent over the map again, putting his left index finger on the spot where the girl was, and his right index finger on the Valley of Simcot, where Seklur Tvak told him there was an entrance to the Serpents Teeth. He drew a mental line from the capital through the other two points. As he thought, no point in bringing the silly girl back to the capital.
“Keep her secure—keep all your prisoners secure until I come.”
* * *
• • •
The great thing about clambering about on the sides of hills instead of taking the road like sensible people was that when soldiers came along that road, you had something handy by to hide behind.
“Though I’m getting a bit tired of hiding, truth to tell.” Wynn Martan spoke so softly she was surprised when Pella grunted his agreement. They waited until the column of soldiers—nine Barracks, as far as Wynn could tell, nearly a full company—had passed them by, and the road had been clear for another half hour, before resuming their climb up the side of the hill. They hadn’t gone more than a few paces when a voice murmured from behind a scraggly sumac bush.
“Is that you, Wynn Martan, or is it a tree on fire?”
“Well, it must be you, Midon Far-seer. Nobody else could think that was funny.”
In a moment they were surrounded. Midon Far-seer, a Lifter Wynn didn’t know, the Far-thinker from the Springs and Pools whose name she could never remember, four men who were clearly soldiers—though they were all armed—and one unarmed person who must be a Talent. Kerida Nast was the only Talent Wynn knew who’d had any military training. The air of authority on the man coming up to her was unmistakable. She touched the part of her tunic where her military crest should be.
“Wynn Martan, Archer, Blue Company, Onyx Cohort of Eagles.”
The man acknowledged her salute, grinning. “Kole Urlen, Barrack Leader, Blue Company, Diamond Cohort of Panthers.”
“Panthers? That’s good to hear.” Wynn looked around, but Pella was hanging back, evidently having found an acquaintance among even this small a group. “Did you see us and come looking?” Wynn asked Midon.
“We were following those others.” He pointed down the road with his chin. “Then I saw you hiding from them, so I told the Barrack Leader you must be all right.”
“If you don’t mind, Midon, I’ll have to check them just the same.” The man Wynn had taken for a Talent wove through the others and stopped in front of her. “Doyouconsenttoexamination,” he rattled off.
“Yes.” A cold touch to her throat and forehead, a brief feeling of heat, and the man had moved on to Pella.
“We didn’t realize we were so close to the Mines.” Wynn turned back to Kole Urlen.
“You’re not. We’ve been following that company for the better part of three days. They were on their way to the Pass, or so we thought, when they turned around and set off this way.”
“Why? What’s over here?” Wynn looked in the direction the company of soldiers had gone.
“Nothing. Well, the Valley of Simcot’s a day’s march that way, if that narrow, rocky excuse for a ravine can even be called a valley. But nothing else.”
“Valley of Simcot entrance is the closest one to Gaena.” She nodded, turning to get Pella’s attention.
“What do you know about this, Wynn Martan?” The Barrack Leader’s voice had hardened.
Wynn waited to speak until Pella was at her side. “We have reason to believe that someone has revealed the existence of that particular entrance.”
Silence all around.
“Was it the mage?” Midon said.
“No. No, we don’t think so.” Wynn glanced at the Talent, who’d turned a little paler than the chilly air could account for.
Kole Urlen looked at Midon, who looked steadily back. They nodded simultaneously. Urlen pointed at one of the men standing by. “You, Lirik, go with the Far-thinker; if they’ve really gone to Simcot, report to base right away. We’ll take these two back. When you’re done, catch us up.”
The Far-thinker hefted his pack. “I’ve let base know they’re coming.”
“Wouldn’t have expected anything else.”
* * *
• • •
Wilk Silvertrees blew on his hands and clapped them together. He reminded himself, not for the first time, that he should remember his gloves. Seedmonth it might be down among the grape vines and the almond groves, but here in the Serpents Teeth you wouldn’t know it.
Sah Q’ua, Commander of Yellow Company, Jade Cohort of Bears, waited with him. Though the Ma’lakan must have felt the cold more than Silvertrees, he might have been standing in one of his deserts for all he showed of it.
“Best case,” Sah Q’ua said, “is that we find out where all these people are going, now that they’re not trying to cross through the pass. Worst case, they’ve found out that they can get their jewels in the Serpents Teeth, and they’re planning an assault.”
“You have always been a cheerful fellow, Sah.”
“That’s why you keep me around, Cohort Leader.” The commander turned toward the south end of the clearing. “Here we are.”
The first to show himself was Midon Far-seer. He sat on the council, but he took his turn with the patrols just like everyone else. Midon headed straight to where Wilk and his Company Commander were standing, even though Wilk could have sworn no one could see them, barricaded as they were by rock and pine trees. Then again, the man was a Far-seer.
Midon nodded at them but waited for Kole Urlen to do the talking. When he arrived minutes later, with the rest of the Barrack behind him, Wilk counted and felt the familiar relief at seeing that all ten were there. Then he counted again, and saw there were two extra, one, as short as a soldier was allowed to be, with flaming red hair.
Wynn Martan. And Pella Dursto with her. What happened to Svann, and the Talented boy?
“Cohort Leader.” Urlen touched his fist to Wilk, and then to his Company Commander.
“No doubt about
it,” he said. “We saw the two groups meet and were following them when we ran into Wynn Martan and Pella Dursto. They thought the enemy were headed for the Valley of Simcot. We sent these two”—he gestured at two of his barrack—“to follow, and sure enough, that’s where they’re going. Sir, if they’re careful enough, and thorough enough, they’ll find the entrance for certain.”
“And we’ve no reason to believe they’re not careful and thorough,” Midon said.
“Were there any Shekayrin?” Wilk said.
“Not within my sight, Cohort Leader.” Midon shrugged.
“There’s bound to be, though, sir.” Wynn Martan stepped forward, the man Dursto at her elbow like a bodyguard. “Otherwise, how would they know where to start looking?”
“You know something you’re not telling, soldier?”
The young woman straightened to attention at being thus addressed. She stopped looking like a field worker and started looking like an archer belonging to the Eagle Wing.
“We’ve been betrayed, Cohort Leader—and before you ask, no, it wasn’t Svann. In fact, we have every reason to suppose that he died covering our escape.” The young woman’s voice shook a little over the last few words. “I’m afraid it was someone else.” Her eye flicked toward the Talent who stood to her left. Wilk nodded. Message received.
“Say no more. Save your breath to give your story to the Faros and the full council.”
* * *
“It is very simple.” It took all of Baku’s will to keep her voice calm and measured.
“You don’t think for a moment that I believe your ludicrous story of them kidnapping you?” Pollik Kvar was so angry he didn’t seem to notice that she was sitting down.
“It does not matter what you believe.” The more formally she spoke, the easier it was to remain calm. Why had no one ever told her this before? “It matters only what the people will believe. And they will believe what we tell them.”
“Is it ‘we’ now, then?”
Baku slid her gaze over to the Poppy Shekayrin’s face. Every part of her head was covered except her eyes. Without a veil to see through, they had to be left exposed. She was glad the mage could see her watching him.
“I have conditions.”
“Which I’m sure I’ll find amusing.” There was no humor in his smile.
“You saw how your soldiers reacted to the mask.” Luckily, no one could see how she reacted. She had not expected the mask to have an aura of its own. She knew now why Kerida had said there were five masks remaining out of an original eleven. That they were not made of jade, as everyone believed, but out of bone that time had turned into stone. She could Flash nothing more, or rather, she could, but she did not understand it.
“I’d like to know how you took it from my rooms. I should have interrogated your women before I had them executed.”
A cold lump in her stomach suddenly blazed hot. He was lying; his aura practically screamed it. Her women were safe. If she knew how, she might even be able to Far-see where they were. At the moment, however, dealing with the Poppy Shekayrin demanded all her attention.
She made a brushing aside motion with her hand and lifted her chin. Let him wonder why his lie did not frighten me. “Nevertheless, the mask is in my possession, and it is known that I have it. And I can use it, which is evidently more than you can do.” Anger flashed across his face. At least the scarves could hide her reactions. “Keep my companions alive, and I will use the mask as you direct—but only if they are kept alive.”
“The woman is a witch.”
“Even so.”
“I can force the soldiers to obey me.”
Baku shrugged. “Enough of them? All at once? Even if your magic is stronger than the magic of the Emperor’s Voice, how many people can you influence before you cannot regenerate the soul stone? Before it will consume you to feed itself?” Baku’s throat felt sore, as if somewhat swollen. She wished Kerida had been able to tell her how difficult it would be to get the jewel back after swallowing it. “These things have been known to happen.”
“And how do you know of these ‘things’?” The tightness in his voice made her smile.
“I am the Princess Imperial. I know many things.”
“There is a supply of the stones in these mountains they call the Serpents Teeth,” he pointed out.
“Something the average soldier does not care about,” she pointed out in turn. “With my cooperation, you will reach the mountains more quickly, more easily, with the full support of my brother the Emperor’s Horsemen.”
His eyes narrowed as he weighed her words. That he was not happy, she could tell. She could also tell the moment when he decided to agree with her. In his way.
“Very well. Your companions will keep their lives. Of course, the witch remains netted.”
Baku waved this away as if it was of no consequence. Perhaps it would be like her own experience, that some of Kerida’s Gifts, unknown to the Mages, would be left free. “Return them to me,” she said. “Since you have brought no servants, they will have to do.”
“You are lucky they are not already dead.” The Poppy Shekayrin left without waiting for her to respond.
Once alone, she sank onto the nearest seat, a stuffed leather hassock. She pulled the satchel containing the mask into her arms and held it tight to her, as though it were her doll, and she a child. She had put her soul stone into the satchel with the mask, carefully wrapped in a corner of the red silk. Now she took it out, folding it into one of her scarves which she wrapped back around her throat.
She concentrated, and all the colors of the rainbow shimmered and waved around her.
* * *
• • •
Bakura folded her hands, weaving the fingers together, to keep from forming fists. She was tiring. Now she knew why Kerida always seemed ready to sleep. As it was, it took all her concentration to Far-think with Jerek.
Baku: We went as far as we could on foot, but with Kerida so exhausted— Jerek, she was amazing. She killed a Shekayrin, and restored her sister, and—
Jerek: Where is she now? Is Kerida all right?
Baku: I’m afraid she has been netted, and they have taken her jewel from her. They are both in another section of the pavilion I am in. They are still alive, so there is still hope. A sound nearby caused her to crack her eyelids open. It was astonishing how much harder it was to see with her head and face covered again. Of course, the tears that had sprung to her eyes did not help.
Jerek: How did they know where you were?
Baku: That I cannot know. Was there anyone else in the plan?
Jerek: Someone in contact with Shekayrin? Not that I know. But what about you? Baku could almost see Jerek shift in his chair as he asked the question. Was he alone? Did he have to hide what he was doing, as she did? Then the import of his question struck her.
Baku: I? You think that I might have betrayed the plan of my own escape?
Jerek: No, no. that’s not what I meant at all. He sounded so flustered Baku hoped he was alone, or he would have given himself away. I was asking how you were. Have they realized your net is gone?
Baku: Why would anyone check? I had a moment when I thought he would simply take the mask from me again. But I saw that he could not.
Jerek: What? How?
Baku: I believe I Flashed it, if that is the correct term.
Jerek: What else can you do?
Baku: I am not sure—Jerek, I am afraid to attempt too much without Ker to guide me . . . having the jewel is thrilling, but now that I am freed of the net, the power I feel is frightening as well. And yet, I must help her, as she helped me. Again, there was a lengthy silence. This time, however, Baku could tell that Jerek was still Far-thinking with her.
Jerek: Don’t do anything you don’t need to do. We can’t risk you. The mask won’t work with the Shekayrin, will i
t?
Baku: That may be of no consequence. So long as he holds hostages, I must do as he asks. Until I am allowed to address the soldiers directly, I cannot know for certain if they will obey me as they would the Emperor. But, by the reaction of the Shekayrin, I believe it may be so— Hold! Someone comes.
She could Flash that a man stood outside the flap of canvas that served her room as a door. Kerida would have been able to tell the man’s name and history, but all Baku could do was recognize his aura as an UnGifted.
“If you please, Honored One, you are wanted. I am to escort you.” She knew the voice. Inurek Star, the chief of her guard. At least he had not been made to pay for her escape. She would not ask after the guard at her door; she imagined she knew his fate.
Baku wished she could be sure that by escort Inurek Star did not mean guard. But that was only to be expected. Like the rest of the men, her guard chief had been given the kidnapping tale, and he would not want her to be taken again, lest all her guards lose their heads.
“I will come.” She slung the satchel so that the mask hung once more at her side. “I must see why my friends have yet to be returned to me.”
* * *
• • •
The first thing Ker noticed when she woke up was the headache. The second thing was that she was alone. She triggered her Talent automatically, looking for Tel’s aura. Baku’s would be larger, brighter, but Tel’s she could Flash with very little effort. When she Flashed nothing more than the room she was in, she struggled to sit up, holding her head in both hands. Not a room. What her eyes saw as walls were nothing more than thick canvas painted over with tight, intricate mazelike patterns that pulled the eye if you looked at them too long. And she was lying on layers of rugs, with nothing but dirt under them.
A tent. She trailed her fingers against the nearest canvas wall. The tent was older than she was—or at least parts of it were. It had come from Halia in the Princess Imperial’s baggage. A pavilion, really, more than an ordinary tent.
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