Tianne caught Wren coming out of the dormitory, nearly walking into her. “I need to talk to you and Danoph. It’s important.”
“Can it wait?” asked Wren. “I’m supposed to be helping Leonie with something.”
Part of her was tempted to say yes but she firmly shook her head. It wouldn’t take much to lose her nerve and find a reason to delay her decision again. Following other people and letting them dictate everything was safe and comforting, but it was also a trap, one that she’d been living in for too long.
Wren seemed to understand the seriousness as she collected Danoph and together the three of them walked over to the sheep enclosure. Until a few days ago the hardy animals had been surviving by themselves on the hills. Their coats had been matted and filthy, but otherwise they’d adapted to their new environment. Now they seemed completely at ease among people being herded around. Perhaps it was simply easier for them as well to follow and be part of the crowd rather than choosing for themselves.
“I’m leaving,” said Tianne, knowing that she needed to say it up front.
For a while Wren was stunned into silence but Danoph didn’t seem surprised. Perhaps he’d already seen this moment in a dream.
“Where are you going?” asked Wren, surprising Tianne by not asking why she was leaving.
“Home. To Zecorria.” Tianne hadn’t thought of it as home in a long time, mostly because she’d planned never to return. Her early memories were a pitted landscape of embarrassment, bullying and constantly feeling like an outsider. None of that mattered now. She was needed.
The Regent had declared an amnesty for all Zecorran mages. Garvey and his band of followers were a serious threat and the Regent needed loyal patriots willing to return home and defend their country from harm. Soldiers and steel were not enough. He needed magic. He needed her.
King Matthias had put out a similar call to arms at the start of the war and Battlemages from around the world had answered, including Eloise and Balfruss. This time there wasn’t a war, not yet anyway, but she would return home with her head held high to defend her country. None of those who’d scorned or mocked her before she went to the Red Tower were worthy.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Wren.
“I am.” Tianne hoped she sounded confident and the others didn’t notice the quiver in her voice. “What you’re building here is important and it will make a difference to the lives of many people in Shael. I can do that for my people in Zecorria. They need me.”
“You are needed here,” said Wren, turning to Danoph, perhaps in the hope that he would agree but he remained silent and watchful. “I need you,” added Wren.
“You asked us to decide if this was the right place for us. Perhaps one day it will be my home as well, but not yet.” Tianne felt safe in the community, surrounded by the others, because there was no risk. The community didn’t lack for excitement, but here she was accepted by everyone for who and what she was. Returning to Zecorria meant it would be challenging, but it was also possible she could change how people viewed mages. Someone had poisoned people in every country against magic and it had led to the destruction of the Red Tower. The amnesty gave her the perfect opportunity to show people that not all mages were like Garvey and that in the right hands magic was a good thing.
“I think it’s a mistake,” said Wren, stubbornly folding her arms.
“I can help people, Wren. The Red Tower was always so mysterious and far away. It scared people because they didn’t know what went on inside the school. Every day in this community we use magic in plain sight. There’s no need to hide. It can be the same in Zecorria. I can show people that magic is amazing and you can do so much with it.”
“You have no idea what the Regent really wants. It might be a trap.”
“A trap?” said Tianne, raising an eyebrow.
“He was the first to bring in a national ban on Seekers. It also appeared that he was going to ban all mages until Garvey went on his rampage. This amnesty could just be a ploy to imprison and kill all mages.”
“I don’t think that’s likely.”
“But you don’t know,” insisted Wren. “You know nothing about the man.”
“I know enough,” insisted Tianne.
“You’re being naïve.”
Tianne had expected Wren to try and talk her out of it, not to attack her personally. Instead of replying she turned to Danoph. “Nothing to say? Or have you already seen this moment?”
Danoph shook his head. “I’ve had no visions about this, but you both make valid points.”
“Thank you,” said Wren, naturally thinking he sided with her.
“I said both,” said Danoph, holding a finger to forestall further interruption. He waited until Wren had closed her mouth before he continued. “You asked us to decide for ourselves about remaining part of this community and Tianne had chosen. You need to respect her choice. However, some caution would also be wise. This request could be both noble and sinister in nature.”
It was the most Tianne had ever heard him say. Danoph seemed exhausted by the effort as he fell silent and seemed to fade into the background again.
“I will be careful,” she promised, making a small concession to Wren. “Wouldn’t you go back to Drassia if the leaders there made a similar request?”
Wren shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t, it’s very different in my country. Magic has no place there, but Danoph is right. I may not like it, but I will honour your decision. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you.”
“Oh Wren,” said Tianne, gathering her friend into a hug.
“I’m just worried about your safety. I didn’t mean to offend you,” she apologised.
“I’m going to be in the capital. I’ll be surrounded by thousands of people,” said Tianne, trying to recall her memories of Herakion. It had been a long time since she’d visited the city. “I’m more worried about you, out here on the borderlands with the raiders. They’ve been getting closer and their attacks more violent.”
Wren shared a look with Danoph who just shrugged. Tianne wasn’t sure if there was something going on between the two of them, but they did seem to be developing their own silent language.
“We will deal with the raiders,” promised Wren.
Wren was always planning ahead. Tianne hoped she could come and visit the community in the future. By then it would probably have grown into a city with Wren at the reins. In her own way, Wren had been preparing for a challenge like this her entire life. Instead of running a Drassi clothing empire like her mother had wanted, she was creating something that was completely her own from scratch. She was living her dream. It was time for Tianne to chase hers.
Tianne turned to Danoph. “Take care of her.”
“I will, for as long as I am able,” he promised, which would’ve sounded peculiar coming from anyone else.
After that there wasn’t much else to say. Tianne packed her bag and the following morning everyone gathered to say their farewells. Although the community couldn’t really spare it, she was given a horse for the long journey north. The saddlebags were bulging with provisions and Tianne also received a coin purse from Master Yettle.
“Keep it,” he said, when she tried to give it back. “Show them what it means to be a real student of the Red Tower.”
There were lots more hugs and a few tears but then she was out of excuses. Tianne felt terrified that she was making the worst decision of her life, but it was too late to turn back. Part of her wanted to say she’d changed her mind and that it was all a mistake. She knew the others would smile and accept it, allowing her to fall back into the comfortable rut. It was the thought of getting stuck in that trap again that spurred her on.
When the Grey Council had asked her to choose, Wren had forged her own path. Now it was Tianne’s turn to find her place in the world. With her stomach churning and with sweaty palms she mounted up, gave everyone a last wave and rode away from the community towards Zecorria.
&nbs
p; It was time to go home.
CHAPTER 12
Using her set of master keys, Tammy opened the locks to the remote cell block and out of habit locked the door behind her. There was only one prisoner on the corridor but she didn’t trust him. That was why she had two armed members of the Watch guarding him at all hours despite his willingness to cooperate. Even though he was locked in an isolated cell, under Unity Hall populated by several dozen Guardians at all times, Torran Habreel was still a dangerous man.
Inside his head were the answers to a hundred questions she’d yet to ask and, if she wasn’t careful, someone might break open his skull to stop them spilling out.
There was also the possibility that Brook was not the only Guardian loyal to Akosh. She’d asked Faulk to make subtle enquiries into the religious background of all Guardians, but it was delicate work that couldn’t be rushed. Most of her people claimed to follow the Maker, the Blessed Mother, or the Lady of Light. But it wouldn’t be difficult to lie about it in order to blend in. Yerskania was famed for being open and inclusive and that included the Guardians. No one was banned from joining the Guardians because they followed a particular faith. It was all down to skill and merit. But Tammy needed to be able to trust her own people with the difficult tasks ahead. Suspicion was a natural part of the job, but as the new Khevassar she needed a solid foundation or else it would all topple over like a house of cards. She really hoped Faulk didn’t find anything in his search.
As the silence of the isolated cell block enveloped her, a vicious part of Tammy considered putting Habreel in with other prisoners. During his time as a Guardian he must have arrested dozens, if not hundreds, of criminals and they rarely missed an opportunity to get some payback. But she needed him alive and able to speak. So for now he would have to stay in isolation for his own protection. He would eventually be punished for his crimes according to the law and justice would be served. Vengeance was something she had to leave behind but sometimes it was a struggle. The memory of what she had done to Don Lowell was still fresh.
By the time she’d unlocked his cell door Habreel was standing at the head of his bed, waiting for her. It felt as if this was a cell inspection with her playing the role of a prison guard.
Despite having few personal belongings, the rigid organisation of Habreel’s cell spoke of a military background and logical mind. The bed was perfectly made with the sheets pulled tight. The small folding table they’d allowed him had a neat pile of papers and two pens. Four books, the largest at the bottom and the smallest on top, formed a pyramid in the middle of the table. Even the comb they’d given him sat precisely in the centre of his shelf.
Habreel had fallen back into old ways after turning up injured and lost on her doorstep a few weeks earlier. Led astray by a manipulating being of indeterminate power and betrayed by his closest friend, he’d been left with nothing. No pride. No home. No faith. The only thing he claimed was a stack of crimes and a growing list of murders with his name attached to each corpse.
They’d healed his physical wounds and given him the barest minimum of space and belongings. In return he was doing his best to be helpful in her investigation of Akosh, but eventually the time would come when he’d outlive his usefulness. Tammy would relish the day when it happened as he would be put on trial for his crimes. Soon after he’d have an appointment with the headsman and then an unmarked grave.
Others might have found the isolation, silence and incarceration difficult to tolerate, but Habreel seemed to have flourished, or at least partially recuperated. The Old Man had told her as a Guardian he’d been outspoken, verbose and possessing a dry wit. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but was a long way from the trembling shell of a man she’d first locked in a cell. With so little that was in his control, and so few choices available, he seemed to be enjoying the relinquishment of power.
“Ah, Khevassar, nice to see you,” he said, watching as she moved the chair from the corridor into the doorway of his cell. Habreel waited until she was seated before sitting down again on his bed. It was little more than a stone shelf with a thin straw pallet, but he’d not complained. “I’ve made some more notes on what I can remember about Akosh and her movements. Hopefully there’s something in there that’s of use to you.”
“I’ll take a look at them later, but I have a few more questions in the meantime.”
“Go ahead,” he said, eager to please. If they had met in other circumstances she would have found his sycophantic nature very creepy. Knowing all that she did Tammy struggled to hide her revulsion at being so close to him.
“Did Akosh ever mention anything about orphanages in Zecorria to you? Either in the capital or anywhere else.”
Habreel took his time and went through his memories with his eyes closed. “No, she never mentioned it,” he said, coming back to the present. “Has something happened?”
Like most of the questions he asked, Tammy ignored it. He couldn’t help asking. It was natural that he was curious about the outside world, and he’d also been a Guardian for a long time. But she was here to question him, not pander to his needs.
Habreel sat up suddenly. “Actually, she did say something unusual, towards the end.”
“Tell me.”
“She sent one of her people, a mage, to Gorheaton. He was going to pose as a Seeker and I heard he killed everyone, then blew himself up. Of course, the blame fell on the Red Tower. When I asked her about it she claimed to have taken him in as an orphan and raised him.” Habreel shook his head. “She was clearly confused as they were almost the same age.”
Tammy said nothing, thinking back to her meeting the previous night with Balfruss. It had been slightly less tense than his last visit and he’d been happy to share information. A reliable source had told Balfruss that Akosh sponsored six orphanages in the capital city of Zecorria and she had several others abroad. He’d also told her that his suspicions about her being more than human had been confirmed, although Balfruss had been unwilling to clarify what that meant. All Tammy knew at this point was that Akosh was extremely dangerous and that her people were not to try and apprehend her directly.
So if everything Balfruss had told her was true then it was possible that Akosh had raised the mage who went to Gorheaton. At the very least she had been the patron of an orphanage where the boy was fostered and taught to worship her above all others.
“Didn’t you say something about Dannel being an orphan?” said Tammy.
For the first time in days Habreel’s façade cracked and sorrow rushed in to fill the void. “Akosh claimed he was one of hers as well. What does it mean? What’s really going on?”
His old instincts were kicking in. Habreel was probably starting to wonder if there was more to Akosh than a confused mind.
“She’s far more dangerous than you realise,” said Tammy, telling him little more than he already knew.
“You need to be careful,” warned Habreel. Tammy was ready to laugh at his warning until she saw the look on his face. “I saw Dannel’s utter devotion to Akosh. Whatever she really is, a mage or something else, to them she’s their entire world. He called her Mother and would do anything for her, without hesitation. Even if that meant killing other people, or even himself, like that poor fool in Gorheaton. Make sure you can trust the people you’re working with, otherwise the walls might have ears.”
Tammy took the notes he’d made and left the cell without another word. If Akosh’s people were as devoted as he claimed, then Guardian Faulk’s investigation was even more critical than she realised. Guardian Brook had shown how far they were willing to go. She couldn’t afford to lose any more of her people. Only the best were selected to join the Guardians and it took several years before novices were trusted to investigate crimes by themselves. Not for the first time Tammy wondered how the Old Man had managed to do the job for all these years. It had only been a few weeks and she was already exhausted.
As she made her way back to the office, Tammy considered her next move. She
had people watching the orphanages but it wasn’t enough. All her information about Akosh came from other people. Tammy needed to speak to one of Akosh’s followers. Finding one would be a challenge and getting them to talk would be even more difficult.
As soon as she walked into the outer office Rummpoe came out from behind her desk, which made Tammy pause. It was like seeing a turtle crawl out of its shell and go for a stroll.
“I couldn’t stop him,” apologised Rummpoe. “He went straight in and said he’d wait in your office.”
“It’s all right,” said Tammy, soothing the flustered young woman. “I’ll take care of it.”
There were few people who would be bold enough to enter her office without her invitation. As she’d expected, Guardian Yedda was waiting for her inside. He was lounging in one of the chairs in front of her desk, one of the Old Man’s private journals open in his lap, although he wasn’t even reading it. He just wanted to show her how little regard he had for her office and authority over him as Khevassar.
Ignoring the slight Tammy closed the door and sat down behind her desk. She stared at him and waited. He tried not to be unnerved by her stillness and silence, but as the moment stretched on he began to squirm. Tammy glanced at the shelves and then expectantly at the book in his lap. Only when he’d returned the journal to its rightful place and sat down did she relent.
“Report,” she said, her voice calm and without inflection.
“I investigated the Minister’s death, as you requested.” Yedda pulled out a notepad and flicked through a few pages.
The Minister of Trade had been in his late fifties and severely overweight. He’d been widowed five years ago after being married for thirty-one years. Six months ago he met a woman in her early thirties and they were married after just two months. Last week the Minister died and his wife inherited his wealth, much to the displeasure of his three children who were of a similar age to their new stepmother.
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