Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3)

by Holder, Angela

  Tobi blinked sleepily, yawned, and turned away. Elkan let out his breath.

  Nalini looked from wizard to familiar, baffled. Of course, Josiah knew what had just happened. Tobi had told Elkan his plan fell within the bounds of the Law. He didn’t know why Elkan had been worried. Accepting payment from the Matriarch might bear a superficial resemblance to taking bribes the way Mathir had done, but the Mother could obviously tell the difference.

  Elkan grinned shakily at Nalini. “What do you say?”

  With studied nonchalance Nalini helped Mila sit up, murmuring reassurances. Only after a few minutes had passed did she look back at Elkan and raise one shoulder. “I’m not doing anything terribly urgent with my mornings at the moment. I suppose I could give it a try for a few days. I’ll see if your friend comes up with anything interesting enough to keep my attention.”

  “Thank you.” The only sign Elkan gave of his pleasure was a quick nod. “Perhaps you can meet us at the docks around an hour after sunrise tomorrow? The Matriarch plans to see the ships on their way, and we and Gevan will need to attend. After that he can take you and Josiah to his workshop and you can get started.”

  “All right.” Nalini busied herself wiping away stray smears of blood from Mila’s cheeks and neck with a damp cloth. “Will someone fetch the girl’s father? As soon as you can walk you can leave, but you need to have someone with you.”

  “I’ll go,” Nirel volunteered. Before Josiah could react, she ducked out of the room.

  “Me, too,” he said, and followed her.

  He caught up to her as she was asking one of the members of Ozor’s band where Davon had gone. She shot him an annoyed glare. “I don’t need your help.”

  “Of course not,” Josiah said, as she headed toward the back exit of the tent where the man had directed her. “I just wanted to say thank you for bringing us here. Otherwise Nalini wouldn’t have agreed to work with us, and Elkan wouldn’t have let me take time off to work with Gevan.”

  “You’re welcome, I guess.” She gave him a curious look. “Do you really think you’ll be able to come up with cures that don’t use the Mother’s power?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s going to be fun trying.”

  “I hope you do.” She looked away. “It will help a lot of people.”

  “Yeah, the Dualists especially. Can you believe how stubborn they are? Where did they get the idea the Mother’s power is evil, anyway? I don’t understand why anybody would turn down our help and insist on being in pain like Mila will be until she finishes healing. I mean, obviously we’re not horrible monsters like the Purifiers believe.”

  Nirel’s voice was stiff. “From what I’ve heard, they believe the Lady’s power will corrupt their soul.”

  Josiah snorted. “Why would we want to do that? Believe me, I wouldn’t work until I was worn out every day like I have been doing just to hurt people.”

  She scowled. “Of course you believe you’re doing good. That’s not the point.”

  “So what is the point? And how did you get to be the expert on all things Dualist, anyway? You don’t know any better than I do. Maybe you can arrange for me to meet those Dualist friends of yours, and they can give me some straight answers.”

  “Maybe I will.” Nirel gestured for him to shush as they emerged from the tent. Davon was standing just outside, arms folded over his chest, staring across the terraced hillside to where the stars spread in silent glory over the dark ocean.

  Nirel kept her voice quiet and respectful. “Sir? Nalini is finished operating on your daughter. Mila is awake, and Nalini says she can go home.”

  Davon closed his eyes, tension draining from his body. “She refused the wizard’s offer?”

  “Yes, sir. I watched the whole time. The Lady’s power never entered her body.”

  He gave her a warm smile, though sadness still shadowed his eyes. “Thank you, daughter.” He gestured for Nirel and Josiah to return to the tent, then fell in step beside them.

  Before he could lose his nerve, Josiah looked over at Davon. “You said you’re a Dualist Elder, right?”

  “An Elder of the Faithful, yes.” Davon regarded Josiah kindly.

  “So that’s like a Keeper or a master wizard, I guess? You’re an expert on the—I mean, on what your people believe.”

  “That’s right, son.”

  Josiah took a deep breath. “So why do the Dualists—the Faithful—believe the Mother’s power is evil? I mean, isn’t it obvious it’s not? All we do is heal people, and help them, and show what’s true.”

  If Davon was offended, he didn’t show it. In fact, his smile deepened. “The simple answer, son, is that the Lord of Justice told us so in his Ordinances. Even if he required us to accept it on blind faith, that would be sufficient. But we believe we know the reason behind his command.”

  “So what is it?”

  Nirel glared at him. “You’re so rude. What makes you think Elder Davon wants to waste time answering your nosy questions? Leave him alone.”

  Davon raised a hand. “It’s all right, daughter. If the wizards want to understand our ways, I’m glad to do my best to enlighten them.” He turned back to Josiah. “Young as you are, I expect you’ve experienced enough to understand. Think back on your life, to the times you’ve learned the most, grown the most, emotionally and spiritually, matured the most. Moments that have changed you for the better. Would you say those instances have been the result of enjoying peace and happiness, or of experiencing stressful, even painful, events?”

  Josiah would have like to confound the Dualist’s argument, but how could he expect to gain any real understanding if he wasn’t honest? He knew exactly what Davon meant. He remembered his misery at being sacked from the Fullers’ Guild, which had resulted in Elkan taking him on as his apprentice. The exhaustion and terror of the flood when he had become a wizard. The agony of pushing himself to the limits of his endurance to heal the wheat and his secret patients, the horror of discovering Mathir’s betrayal, the panic that Sar might break their bond. He shrugged. “The second, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” Davon’s eyebrow quirked. “Are you sorry about any of the experiences that made you who you are? If you could live your life over, would you choose to forgo both the suffering and what came of it?”

  This required more thought, but again there was only one truthful answer. “No.”

  Davon inclined his head. “See? You and I agree. Suffering serves a purpose. Pain is how the Lord of Justice teaches us what is true. It causes the green fruit of our character to ripen. In the guise of mercy, the Lady seeks to take from us the opportunity to grow into the fullness of what the Lord intends us to be.”

  Counterarguments crowded Josiah’s brain and jostled for space on his tongue. “What’s Mila supposed to learn that’s worth all the pain she’s gone through?”

  “Only time will tell. But it will become clear eventually.”

  “And people who die in agony, like the ones we couldn’t help after the fire? So what if they learned something? They’re dead; they never got the chance to use it.”

  Davon spread his hands. “They return to the Lord of Justice transformed by their experience. I don’t know how that will serve them in the life that follows this one, but I believe it will.”

  Josiah clenched his fists, fuming. “But you think it’s fine for Nalini to stop Mila’s pain with surgery. Why is that different than what we do?”

  Davon met his eyes. “Nalini’s healing is natural. It comes from skillful manipulation of things of this world, things the Lord of Justice created. Your healing comes from an unnatural power, in which the Lord has no part.”

  “But it’s not unnatural. Gevan’s experiments prove it. The Mother created it, just like she created everything else. There is no Lord of Justice; you just pretend there is because you like telling people what to do!”

  Josiah realized he’d crossed the line a second too late to call back his hot words. Nirel whirled on him, her face whit
e. “How dare you!”

  Davon frowned, but shook his head. “Peace, daughter. I take no offense. The boy’s only parroting what he’s been taught.”

  Josiah lost what little remained of his temper. “I am not! I’ve talked to the Mother myself! That’s more than you can say about your imaginary—”

  Elkan burst from Nalini’s room. “Josiah! What’s going on?” Beside him Sar glared at Josiah, his ears laid back.

  “He said I—”

  “I don’t care what he said. There’s no excuse for shouting at someone like that. I apologize for my apprentice, Elder.”

  Davon inclined his head. “It’s hardly the first time a discussion of religious matters has become heated. I’m sure he’ll learn to moderate his reactions in the future.” He gave Josiah a tolerant look, which nevertheless reminded Josiah what the Dualist leader believed brought about learning.

  “I hope so.” Elkan glowered at Josiah and gestured for Davon to enter the room.

  As soon as he was out of sight Josiah turned to Elkan, trying to keep his voice soft. “But Master, he said—”

  “I told you I don’t care. We’re guests in his homeland. We owe him respect, not insults.”

  “But he’s wrong!”

  “Of course he is, but you’ll never change someone’s beliefs by yelling at them. If we ever hope to persuade the Dualists to accept our help, we have to show them that we accept them, that we’re not trying to change their beliefs.”

  “But we are.”

  Elkan’s stern look was spoiled by a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Only if they choose to change them of their own free will.” The smile vanished. “I hope you haven’t just ruined any chance we had. From the reaction of the people out there, I suspect Davon is more than just another Elder.” He turned to Nirel. “Have you heard of him?”

  Nirel swallowed, her eyes sliding away from Elkan’s. “I know the leader of the Faithful is named Davon.” Quickly she added, “But it might not be him. It’s a common name.”

  Elkan shook his head. “I doubt we’re that lucky.” He sighed. “Let’s go. I want to get back to the palace early enough to speak to the Matriarch tonight. At least Nalini agreed to my proposal.”

  “Yeah.” Josiah brightened. Tomorrow he’d finally get to see Gevan’s workshop. He couldn’t wait to get started experimenting. They’d come up with a cure for diabetes before a week was out, he was certain.

  Elkan scowled at him. “Be sure you don’t offend her, too.”

  That was totally unfair, because the only person who’d offended Nalini was Elkan himself. But Josiah had enough presence of mind not to blurt that out. “I’ll be careful.”

  Sar flicked an ear at Elkan and snorted.

  Elkan grinned and tousled his former familiar’s mane. “Better stick closer to him than you did tonight, if you hope to keep him out of trouble.”

  Josiah glared at the donkey. Whose side are you on, anyway?

  The Mother’s. Sar blinked guilelessly and plodded to his side.

  Josiah rolled his eyes. He followed Elkan as Nirel led them out of the tent.

  As soon as they emerged, she edged away. “My father will be wondering where I am. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “We’ll be starting work as soon as we can after the ships sail. See you then.” Elkan nodded to her.

  “Wait,” Josiah said. Nirel had been acting very strangely. He wanted to find out what was going on. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Sorry, I can’t right now. Maybe later. Good-night.” She flashed him a smile, and was gone.

  Eighteen

  The Matriarch’s bright laughter rang through the hall. Kevessa wondered if it sounded as false to everyone else as it did to her. The performer’s juggling skills were excellent, but his banter was inane and his jokes fell flat. Kevessa would enjoy the show a lot more if he’d just be quiet. But the Matriarch acted as if he was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.

  At her side Lord Renarre was grave and quiet, as he always was on the rare occasions he appeared in public. He was gone so often on trading voyages that Kevessa, along with the rest of Ramunna, frequently forgot the Matriarch was still married.

  There was a hostile undercurrent to the way the two of them avoided looking at each other that made Kevessa wonder how long that would remain true.

  The juggler concluded his act with a spectacular feat involving five balls, a knife, and an apple that ended up in a dozen pieces. Kevessa rose to her feet with everyone else, applauding. The juggler beamed, gave a sweeping bow and exited. He’d doubtless be rewarded with a heavy purse.

  Surely the Matriarch would let them retire now. But no, she was gesturing for her steward to bring out another act. Kevessa yawned, envying Nina. The squirrel was curled on the table, fast asleep.

  All around the table chatter broke out. Gevan turned to Kevessa. “When did Elkan say he’d be back? I need to check with him one more time before morning. Captain Yosiv swears he can personally vouch for every member of his crew. He’s dismissed anyone who hasn’t been sailing with him for years. The other captains as well. But Elkan promised he’d keep searching for any signs of Purifier sympathies among them.”

  “He’s had us all scanning every minute we aren’t healing. But we haven’t found anything. None of the ships have been in port more than a few weeks out of the past year, and in that time none of the crew members have had any contact with Yoran Lirolla or his underlings.” Other than Fiv, of course. When they’d tracked him back through windows they’d observed several clandestine meetings with Purifier agents. But Fiv had hired on with another ship and sailed out of range before Kevessa was released. “Or known Dualists, either.”

  Master Elkan had listened earnestly when she reported her observation of Tharan, but everyone had been too busy in the days since to follow up on her discovery. She was going to have to continue the investigation on her own. She had an idea how to proceed, but it would require a couple hours of free time. She could have arranged it for this evening if she’d known the other wizards were going to abandon her to the Matriarch’s frivolous entertainments.

  But maybe it wasn’t too late to set it up for the morning. No one would care if she skipped the ceremony for the departure of the ships to Tevenar.

  She spent a few more minutes trying to convince her father that the wizards had done everything they could to assure the ships hadn’t been sabotaged. When he sank back into a stew of private worries, she summoned a servant and requested pen and paper. Carefully she composed a message she was sure would seem innocuous. Vigorre, when you go to pick up Nirel in the morning, can I ride with you? I’ve had so little time to visit with either of you since I returned. Pick me up at the palace. It looks like it might rain, so you’d better bring the closed carriage.

  Pleased, she folded the paper, sealed it, and gave it to the servant. The Matriarch’s messengers would deliver it within the hour. Vigorre’s route led directly through the Dualist Quarter. She’d have plenty of time and privacy to trace Tharan’s movements through a window.

  Only after the message was on its way did she wonder what Josiah would think of her going off with Vigorre in a closed carriage. She sniffed and tossed her head. Josiah knew very well she and Vigorre were only friends. Anyway, Vigorre was so infatuated with Nirel he’d never look twice at her. And Josiah had no claim on her. They’d only held hands.

  Her face got hot, thinking about that moment. Josiah was a full year younger than she was, still boyishly lanky and awkward. She’d been aware of his attraction to her since they first met, but had dismissed him as too immature for her interest. But it hadn’t faded as she’d been sure it would. His intelligence and perseverance had become evident as he tirelessly assisted her father with his experiments. Since they’d arrived in Ramunna he’d worked with adult dedication in the Beggars’ Quarter. His energy and enthusiasm often kept her going long after she would have given up on her own.

  And his touch hadn’t felt childish in th
e least. It had aroused all sorts of strange feelings in her she still wasn’t sure whether she liked or not. She’d been avoiding him ever since. But more and more she was realizing she wanted to find some excuse to be alone with him and explore those feelings further.

  It reminded her of the first time she’d tasted Girodan curry. She’d made a face at the intense, exotic flavor. But for some reason she’d felt compelled to take another bite. Before long it had become her favorite. Now she ate it any chance she got.

  Hooves clicked behind her. Her heart jumped, and she fought to wipe all evidence of her thoughts from her face. Only when she was sure she could maintain a normal casual friendliness did she turn. “Hey, Josiah.”

  “Hey.” He plopped unselfconsciously into the seat next to her. Sar took up his normal station behind his chair. “Got any food left? Elkan and I grabbed a bite from a street vendor, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Here.” She pushed him the remains of her dessert, a rich cake stuffed with fruit and nuts. He devoured it enthusiastically.

  Master Elkan bent to converse with her father. A servant brought a chair for him, but he waved it away. “I’ll only be here a moment. I need to speak with the Matriarch. Kevessa, why don’t you come with me? Josiah’s had a chance to get familiar with her case. Now it’s your turn.”

  Josiah started to protest, but Master Elkan gave him a look, and he turned back to the cake with a resentful shrug. Kevessa looked back and forth between them for a moment, but Josiah wouldn’t meet her eyes. Master Elkan wore a blandly expectant expression. She rose, tucking Nina into the crook of her arm. “Yes, sir.”

  “Be sure you get to sleep soon,” their master told Josiah. “I need you well rested for the sailing ceremony in the morning. We have to make sure no one interferes. You know how important that food is to Tevenar.”

  Josiah shivered, his annoyance forgotten. “Will it get there in time, do you think?”

  “Barely, but yes. Captain Yosiv said the weather should be favorable. Although he tried to talk me into coming with him to fill the sails.”