by Terah Edun
Ciardis felt Vana’s regret and her torment as closely as she had felt Thanar’s emotions. But this time it wasn’t guilt that pushed Vana’s thoughts, it was foresight. Knowledge that she had now that told her that she’d made the wrong choice, that her actions were having disastrous consequences on real-world plans.
Vana only regretted what she had done because it interfered with what was happening in the here-and-now. And Ciardis knew suddenly that the assassin and the daemoni prince were more alike than she had at first thought. But she didn’t have any more time to reflect on Vana’s nature and its peculiar similarities to Thanar.
So alike on the inside and different on the outside, Ciardis managed to think before the memories were swamping on top of her. One after the other. She barely had time to digest the sounds and images, before another emerged.
Ciardis fell into these previously submerged memories, but this time it wasn’t like drowning in a well. It was as if she was finally being welcomed home. These memories wanted to emerge as much as Thanar’s associated memories had wanted to stay hidden.
Ciardis had to wonder how much of that was at Vana’s coaxing this time around instead of the brute-force tactics she had used before to bring them to the surface. In the end, it didn’t matter. They were here. Ciardis accepted them. She waited. And the doors to her mind opened.
This memory was quite different from her last. Primarily because Ciardis knew she was in physical trouble before she even realized where she was. She stood back-to-front of another person and they were gripping her tightly. They didn’t have any sort of weapon at her throat, which she was grateful for, but that was all Ciardis had to be thankful for in this scenario.
How could I forget being kidnapped? she wondered to herself furiously. She didn’t know by who, she didn’t even know where they were, though wherever it was, it was quite dark. For a brief moment, Ciardis considered wiggling out of her captor’s grasp, but she knew it would be of no use.
She took a deep breath and tensed up, getting ready to fight. Knowing she probably wasn’t going to win this one. Wherever they were, whenever they were, it was before she had the capabilities call up offensive magic. Before the triumvirate had formed. Or at least so she thought. Which meant that she was pretty much guaranteed to only have two options: stab the person or run. Ciardis wasn’t even sure she had a knife on her.
Before she could make up her mind or properly assess her situation in the dark, a familiar voice spoke.
“Relax,” snapped Vana. “We’re not under attack. Not this morning, anyway.”
Ciardis shrugged her off and spun around, speaking at the same time. “What is this? Do you think this is a game? You said you were going to give me my final memories back.”
But when she turned her golden eyes to look at the woman who was regarding her as if she had knocked a few marbles loose, Ciardis realized she was different. She couldn’t see much, but Vana had a tiny mage light in her hand now open to the alley.
The first thing Ciardis noticed was that she was healthier.
The second thing she noticed was that the woman was dressed weird.
When she didn’t say anything, Ciardis tried called her name in a tense voice. “Vana?”
“Yes?” the assassin replied dryly.
Ciardis looked at her in confusion. “Why are you just standing there?”
Vana raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “Well, you seemed off in your own little play there. I was just wondering when you’d return to this act and scene.”
Ciardis swallowed harshly and tried to release the tension building. This wasn’t her Vana, the one from her timeline. This was a past one. One who was a little too close to the truth, though Ciardis wondered if she could change anything that had happened by acting differently in a memory. It seemed like a preposterous idea. But crazier ideas, like traveling over great distances between realms, had proven themselves distinctly possible.
So she tried to chuckle, which ended up sounding more like a croak, and decided to rely on her normal reactions in a situation like this.
“Why are we still loitering in an alley that smells like piss?” Ciardis asked sharply.
Vana eyed her for a moment and then edged around her to walk up to the corner of the alley and peer around the side.
For a better vantage point, Ciardis supposed, as she quietly turned this way and that trying to figure out where she was and why she was there. Unfortunately, her life up until this point had involved skulking in far too many alleys to count, and it was too dark to distinguish any noticeable features from the alley besides slimy walls and a smell that she was sure was going to linger in her nostrils when she woke from this memory traveling session for a second time.
What have you gotten me into, Vana? Ciardis wondered as she wandered up to her crouching conspirator.
When Vana didn’t seem too inclined to move, Ciardis asked sharply, “Can we please get out of here?”
“No, not yet,” said Vana.
Ciardis bit her lip but didn’t protest. She couldn’t, seeing as she had not the slightest clue why they were there in the first place.
Finally Vana sighed and stepped back. “It’s clear to go.”
Go where, Ciardis thought, but she didn’t voice the question aloud. Ciardis wanted to test her magic. She needed to see if her gifts of stronger magic were still dormant and untapped. If they were skulking around an alley, there had to be a reason why. None of the ideas that presented her mind as options why were good ones either.
So Ciardis pulled on her magic like a natural rope. With an experimental twist, she let the power of her gift snap in the air.
Yes, she thought in exultation. It’s here.
She could tell that she still wasn’t controlling the gifts as much as she’d like, but calling to the lightning magic was like being a fish in water. It felt right.
Vana turned around at her miniscule display with a raised eyebrow. The gift didn’t seem to frighten her, just surprised the assassin.
Ciardis didn’t bother explaining to her why she’d done it, but in her own thoughts Ciardis knew it was more than just assessing her situation. She was tired of being a pushover. She needed to be able to defend herself, and even threatening an opponent felt deliciously naughty at the moment. But she didn’t know where the boundaries of this enhanced magic began and her own normal Weathervane gifts ended.
Vana turned her watchful gaze back to the streets. “I know it’s been difficult for you. You’ve been through a heck of a year. And you’ve come out of it amazingly well.”
Ciardis felt wonder in her chest. Had Vana just praised her?
She waited, wondering if there was more.
“Not exactly unscathed, and certainly more jaded than when you came,” Vana continued. “But those aren’t bad qualities to have.”
“Aren’t they?” Ciardis said dryly. She was experiencing this as it was happening. She had the feeling that she should be bitter at Vana’s statement, but she couldn’t, not with the knowledge of what was to come. That Vana was right.
“No,” Vana said while turning to her fully.
Ciardis guessed that whatever threat she was looking for wasn’t an imminent one at the moment.
Vana continued unabated, “No, they’re not. You came to court like a gangly calf, eager and unsteady. Now you’re independent and fierce, when you need to be.”
Ciardis shook her head, feeling her curls brush her shoulders. “That doesn’t explain—”
“I’m not saying you’re not going to have nightmares and fears about what you’ve done, Ciardis, or what you’re going to do,” Vana admonished, cutting her off. Then she squeezed her shoulder tightly to take the sting out of her words. “I’m saying don’t let those same fears control you. Take life one step at a time, solve one problem, then move on to the next.”
“Is that how it works for you?”
Vana smiled. “One job at a time.” She let her hand drop down.
Ciardis lifted a han
d and rubbed her own tense shoulder. “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”
Vana nodded. “But more than that, you know you’re not alone with this, for good or bad.”
“I know that,” Ciardis said with a sigh as she glanced up at the sky.
“Which is why you’re taking me to see this thing, right?” Vana asked.
Ciardis looked at her blankly.
Vana raised an eyebrow. “The building you insisted we go to in the middle of nowhere in a city that is as tense as nails right before you leave on a journey for a distant and closed-off city?”
Suddenly Ciardis knew where they were, and when. It was just before she took Vana to see the Kasten ship.
She was mystified as to why these memories were hidden before.
Unless a pep talk is top-secret material, Ciardis thought. Though to Vana, showing her true self and even vulnerability, it probably was.
The memory Vana cleared her throat and Ciardis snapped out of her reverie.
“Right, that’s why I’m taking you to see this,” Ciardis exclaimed. “We do need to get going. Kifar waits for no person.”
Vana chuckled. “It’s an abandoned city in the desert. I’m pretty sure that’s all they’ve been doing.”
Ciardis smiled mysteriously. “Still, we’d better get going.”
It took them some time to reach the warehouse that held the Kasten ship. Time for Ciardis to ruminate, to plan, to wonder, what was next in this trip down hidden memory lane.
18
Ciardis took a deep breath as she walked through the entrance to the warehouse building with Raisa and Vana by her sides.
She had a moment to wonder why the space was so dark. She didn’t remember it this way, and then she was torn away. Into another memory. Another time.
Ciardis didn’t have any time to process where she was this time. She just knew that she was standing in darkness like she was before, that she was furious, and she was mid-spin.
She felt herself balling her fists together as she fought back a primal urge to scream. As she completed her spin, she saw that this once more was a memory that she was going to share with Vana.
Trying to control herself and the anger that was coursing through her with no direction, Ciardis squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to count down slowly from thirty until she was calm. As she did, she noticed that her magic levels were dropping as well, which was a good sign. Because whatever had made her so furious couldn’t have been reason enough to attack Vana. And Ciardis had the feeling that she had intended to back down before the altercation erupted anyway.
“Feel better?” she heard Vana ask in a sympathetic voice.
“Some,” Ciardis said aloud.
Internally she asked, Why am I so mad at you? What have you done? What have I done?
When she walked away from Vana to a ledge with wooden beams, she had at least had part of her answer. The Kasten ship sat below her just as it had before.
As Ciardis looked at it, she wondered why they had jumped forward in time instead of just continuing on the present trek. But she didn’t have an answer other than time saved.
Perhaps this ability of Vana’s isn’t unlimited, Ciardis thought as she walked back over to the assassin.
This whole revealing memory process was one question after another. But she was certain that once she emerged whole through this mental gauntlet she would have her answers.
“If you’re ready, then,” Vana said, “we can talk.”
Ciardis opened up her fists, folded her hands in front of her and said after a deep breath, “Tell me.”
That was a vague enough answer, and if they were really having a conversation, well, Vana would be the only one here who knew where they had left off.
Vana raised her eyebrows. “Was that a command?”
Ciardis lowered her chin firmly. “It was. I am the future princess heir and…”
“Future is correct,” Vana said coolly. “And even then, that is not enough to command my respect.”
Ciardis blinked rapidly and sighed. “It was worth a try.”
She was teasing Vana, playing along. And even though they weren’t playing the exact same game, the assassin was responding in the same manner. Which made Ciardis feel at ease. At least for the moment.
“How about you try again?” Vana said sardonically.
Ciardis shook her head. “Just tell me.”
The frustration was palpable in her voice, and when Vana looked at her with a cock of her head Ciardis felt the words erupt from her mouth. “Why do you insist on hiding things from me like an onion whose layers I have to continuously peel off?”
Ciardis looked around the platform. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vana following her movements with small turns of her head.
“Because,” Vana said quietly, “that’s the only way you will learn. That’s the only way you will grow. By questioning everything and taking nothing at face value. You need to grow up, Ciardis, faster and farther than anyone I have ever known. I don’t say this to be unkind. I say this because the fate of this very empire seems to rest largely in your hands with every week that passes.”
Ciardis pursed her mouth in annoyance. She wondered if this was the Vana of the future talking or the past.
It hardly matters in the long run, she decided.
Playing along, the princess heir-in-waiting asked, “Does that horrify you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer as she studied the ship with a practiced eye, looking for some secret, some reason why they had come here of all places.
“No,” Vana said in a voice that had Ciardis turning around in surprise. “It terrifies me.”
Ciardis looked at her aghast.
It was Vana who began to pace this time. “It should terrify you too. Anyone with too much power and too much responsibility is bound to fail.”
“That isn’t always the case,” Ciardis argued.
“History says it’s so,” Vana said as she stopped directly in front of her. “But in this case we can’t afford to let that happen. You must be smarter than your enemies, quicker than your rivals, more powerful than your allies, and above all…more compassionate than your rulers. Because I rue the day, Ciardis, that you become something you’re not.”
“And what’s that?” Ciardis asked. She was genuinely curious.
“A despot,” Vana said in a tired voice. “A person with no desire to rule for the people. You can’t become that just because you’ll take the throne.”
Ciardis laughed a bit hysterically. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves here? Even if Sebastian takes the throne, I’ll be his wife and companion, empress in name only. My job will be to support him, not rule the empire.”
Vana said sadly, “No you won’t.”
Ciardis hesitated, a cold shiver going down her spine. “Do you know something I don’t?”
This time Vana smiled. “Don’t I always?”
“Don’t joke,” Ciardis said quietly.
“Then let’s go back to a topic where I can speak in more absolutes,” Vana said. “The Kasten ship is important for a reason that Prince Heir Sebastian failed to note.”
Ciardis nodded, her breath paused as she waited in anxiety for Vana to continue. This was why they were here. She knew it with a deep certainty in her bones.
Vana looked away from Ciardis and towards the ship. Ciardis’s eyes followed her to the prow that rose so close to the landing they stood on, that either of them could have jumped to the deck with a mighty leap.
Finally Vana said, “We lost the art of creating Kasten ships after the mage class of shipbuilders from the Western Isles died out. But we didn’t lose the ability to tie each ship to a mage. This Kasten ship in particular, The Marde, doesn’t just share Maradian’s name. It shares his life force.”
“What are you saying?” Ciardis asked in a whisper.
“I’m saying that with enough magic,” Vana said with shoulders slumped, “and mages working in conce
rt…we can kill Maradian.”
Ciardis let out a cry of joy at Vana’s pronouncement. “Why so glum? That’s wonderful news!”
Vana looked over at her in disapproval. “No, it’s not.”
Ciardis stared at her in dismay.
Is she blind? Of course it is, she scoffed in her thoughts.
Aloud Ciardis listed off reasons for why this was a very good thing instead. “We solve all of our problems. Maradian dies and that’s one less enemy we have to watch out for. I fail to see how it isn’t something be celebrated. Why didn’t you tell us when we first told you about the ship, or after the trial?”
She was talking so quickly her words almost tumbled over themselves.
Vana raised an eyebrow. “The better question to ask is why do you think no one else brought it up?”
Ciardis felt her brow furrow. “What do you mean?”
Vana shook her head and almost rolled her eyes. “I mean everyone else knows what the Kasten ship meant to its owners. However, that knowledge only become relevant when you and Sebastian discovered that this particular owner was still alive.”
“Maradian,” Ciardis said flatly. “If The Marde was tied to anyone else it wouldn’t matter. Which still doesn’t explain why this isn’t good news. We didn’t find out Maradian was posing as Bastian until the trial, but now that we know, we can do something about it.”
Vana watched her with carefully blank eyes. “Didn’t you read anything in those tutorial books?”
“It was almost fifteen hundred pages, Vana,” Ciardis said through gritted teeth. “Give me a break.”
“Not when it means the fate of the empire is on the line,” Vana snapped.
Ciardis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had to think of something to get Vana back on track and make her stop lambasting Ciardis about a time for studies that had long passed. They were up against gods and man in Ciardis’s future and they needed this edge.
Hastily Ciardis said, “I’ll read it…all of it, on the weeklong trip to Kifar. Now please tell me why we can’t set this blasted ship on fire and get rid of Maradian here and now.”