“We’ll have to move as soon as it gets dark,” Shandon said, as if Kea hadn’t spoken. “Could you scout the road, Kea? See if they’ve set up any guard posts.”
“Where are we going then?”
“Being an acolyte begins with following orders,” Shandon said. Kea took the hint, vanishing into the woods quietly. Shandon caught my look of reproach. “The lad is clever, but his mother has been entirely too lenient with him. Besides, I need to talk to you alone.”
“Kea just saved us. I trust him.” Was Shandon going to tell me to follow his orders too? But he didn’t. He only looked worried.
“Fire types lose their hearts too easily,” he finally said.
“You should see the suitors I turned away,” I scoffed.
“You have a great responsibility, and the Heartland depends on you. You have no time for handsome boys.”
I was still angry that we were not going to Yassin. I said the first thing that popped into my head. “You’ve probably never been in love.”
He winced. “Let us speak of something more important. A day ago, I told you that you had my protection. Already I feel myself forced to choose. I do not want to break my word to you but...”
“But what?” I said, alarmed.
“The Council needs to know the Demon is out. We’ll have to send a mission to the Elementals’ prison to secure it with more spells. I’m the Master of the Scrolls. I’m the only one who can get those spells. I must get to Yassin as soon as possible.”
“What about me?”
“Alone, I’ll steal a horse and get there in a few days. If I take you, we’re slower, and there’s a chance we’ll get caught. I’ve got a place you can stay for a couple of weeks. It’s a nice holding in the country, with its own flock of sheep and gardens. They’ll hide you without asking too many questions. I’ll fetch you as soon as I can.”
Now I’d be stuck with strangers. I felt like I was suffocating, pressure building in my chest. “I’ll be safe? On a farm?!”
“It’s more than that. There’s a Yellow in charge of the market and a Green who weaves and dyes our Robes. Amur’s Chosen don’t know about the place, though, and the townsfolk don’t gossip about us. Most of the people who live on the farm are Brown Robes, tenders of fields and flocks who provide goods for Yassin. They’re descendants of people the Mannites once helped, widows who were forced off their husbands’ lands by their spouses’ kin, younger sons who had no inheritance, fallen women who wanted to live a chaste life.”
I gulped. I wanted to start training right away.
“Berona, please tell me you understand,” Shandon said. “I must warn the others.”
If I was going to be a fighter, I had to be brave. Sacrifice for the rest. “I’ll wait. At least Kea will be with me.”
“No, he will not,” Shandon said quickly. “There’s a place about an hour away where I’ll leave him. I already have another boy training there, with an old Red Robe Mannite. If an emergency arises, and the farm is no longer safe, go to them. Only then.”
“Why can’t he just come to the farm?”
“I can’t ask them to take in two people. It’s too much,” Shandon explained. “The farm already tithes fine flax and wool to Yassin.”
Surely Kea and I could help out enough to stave off resentment. But just then he returned, and Shandon gave me a conspiratorial glance. I stayed quiet.
* * *
After two long days of forced marches, Shandon and I rounded a gentle curve on a hill. We had left Kea earlier that afternoon, with the elderly Red Robe and his wife. The farm lay before us. Fields glowed in the late afternoon sunlight, full plump heads of wheat glinting gold. We approached a large building made of plastered wooden beams, with a waterproof roof made of tiles. It was five times the size of my old house, not counting the outbuildings.
I noted the deference with which the Yellow Robe, a man called Popyrin, greeted Shandon. Shandon introduced me and asked that I be allowed to stay a few weeks, until he or someone he sent could fetch me. He gave no details and Popyrin did not ask, though he looked at me curiously.
After supper Shandon meant to go on. He’d asked for a horse, explaining it was an urgent matter. Popyrin was reluctant but agreed.
I stood by in the stables while Shandon checked the horse’s hooves and saddled her up. We hadn’t been alone till then, and I had matters weighing on my mind.
“I can’t stop thinking about my mother and sister. What if they’re still in danger?”
Shandon considered. “It’s unlikely the Demon will have followed them. She’ll be more interested in what you’re doing. Her attempt to weaken you failed. She must gather her allies and find another way to hurt you.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I can give you no guarantee. I wish I could. It’s hard, I know.”
“Can’t you send someone from Yassin to find my kin?”
“And how will I explain that? It will divert resources. No one can know who you are. Remember that. If it seems danger has sought you out here, Kea will help you. Don’t be tempted to confide in him, though.”
“Don’t you trust anyone?”
“Without you, we have nothing. My years of searching will have been in vain. You are the key.”
“What if I disappoint you?” I whispered.
“Stay true to yourself. In these past few days, I have come to know you. You have courage. You will gain wisdom. That is all we can hope for.”
CHAPTER 12
Shandon
Shandon had to abandon the borrowed mare once he reached the mountains where Yassin lay. His beater would have managed the steep path effortlessly. He hoped somehow the animal would break free and find his way home. It was unlikely, though. Beaters were far too valuable.
His steps slowed as the sun rose higher and higher. He’d traveled straight through the night and all the next day, stopping only to catch a few winks of sleep before setting off again well before dawn. His eyes grew heavy, and he threw water from a tinkling icy stream onto his face and let it run down into his tunic, across his chest. He started off again. He had just reached the top of the mountain and was bending over, trying to catch his breath, when he heard the unique sound of a beater’s toes.
Hirschi, Master of the Horse, rode into view. “Praise Krossos. You’re here. We have great need of you. You must have heard me call out to you on the Shadow Plain.” His best friend cantered closer. “You look wrecked. Climb up behind me. We’ll talk once we get you to my room and get some wine and food in you.”
* * *
Hirschi had always been intense, his metal nature honing his remarks to sharp points and creating daunting expectations for those who sought to befriend him. Other than his lover, the Red Robe Kendall, and Shandon himself, he had few close comrades, though many admirers.
Now he was more than intense. He looked anguished.
Shandon took a few swallows of the wine. “I have bad news too.”
“It can’t be as bad as ours,” Hirschi said.
“We’ll see.” Were the Elementals already out? Perhaps they’d caused a new calamity. Could the Demon have freed them so quickly?
The two men looked at each other; both began to speak, and both fell quiet.
“Fine,” Shandon said. “You first.”
“The Council’s been besides itself at your absence. The Water Demon got out. A shooting star fell on her cage and shattered it. She’s probably on her way to free the Elementals.”
Shandon was flabbergasted. He’d been wondering how to introduce only part of the prophecy, without giving away Berona’s role. Not only that. He couldn’t even prove the prophecy existed. The Cabinet of Mysteries had swallowed it back up. Now Hirschi was the one telling him the Demon was loose.
“You’re not surprised,” Hirschi observed.
“No,” Shandon admitted. “Who brought you word?”
“Messengers from the Vendrisi Prime Luca. How did you know?”
“The
Demon was spotted in a river near a village I visited.”
“What have you been doing these last few years?” Hirschi asked. “Traveling from village to village? Each time I asked you deflected my questions.”
“The Cabinet gave me an Elder prophecy. I was able to translate it.”
“The prophecy was about the Demon?”
Shandon nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Hirschi demanded. “We’ve lost so much time.” He began pacing up and down, then turned his sharp gray eyes on Shandon and pushed his iron-gray mane back from his bony face. “You were negligent. Irresponsible.”
“Not at all. I have made sacrifices, used my own gold, searched tirelessly, just to ensure that…”
“That what?”
Berona’s voice came back to him. Don’t you trust anyone?
Shandon had known Hirschi since they were both twenty-five and Kendall a laughing, lusty woman barely out of girlhood. They trained together, studied spells all night, called up thunder from a blue summer sky. Shandon glimpsed Hirschi’s tears after Kendall left to visit another’s bed. Hirschi had been with him the night Shandon heard about his former men of arms, fallen in a needless battle brought on by his brother’s pride. The two of them got roaring drunk. It was the only time Shandon had seen his friend less than graceful.
There were only two things Hirschi didn’t know about him. One concerned Bolin, and Shandon thought that was a private matter.
As for the other…he had to trust someone.
* * *
After Shandon’s tale, Hirschi sat, withdrawn. Then he said, “I always wondered what took you to Bolin so often. You used his gift for reading the birds to find these girls.”
“Yes.” That’s what had started Shandon’s visits there. What happened next was a sweet surprise. He’d given up hope of finding a kindred soul.
Hirschi didn’t take note of Shandon’s curt reply. “If only we knew who the traitor was. My guess would be Tovalen. He’s always wanted more power for himself.”
“When would she have recruited him? She’s been shut up for six hundred years,” Shandon pointed out. “Couldn’t it be that old man Georsi?”
“The one Kendall’s cousin has to watch all the time? The Council looks the other way when he raids the poppy supply in the infirmary. The man’s a rambling wreck,” Hirschi scoffed.
“He claims he was alive during the Great War. The Council doesn’t seem to trust him.”
Hirschi chuckled. “He’s certainly a burden on Biruac and Kendall. In any case, you’re right to worry about Berona. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Don’t tell anyone. Not even Kendall,” Shandon cautioned.
“I won’t. She does wonder why you developed such an interest in young women warriors, though. She may draw her own conclusions once she hears of the Demon. Speaking of which…now that you’re here, the Council will wish to convene at once. Freshen yourself up, and I will send a messenger to them.”
* * *
The Council’s special meeting room was high up in a tower, in a circular chamber. Shandon took a seat at the end of the table; at the other end the statue of Krossos Mannine presided over the five living members, the founding philosopher’s face permanently beatific. Three of the five were already seated, their Purple Robes carefully arrayed—except for Soa’s, which was mussed from the stables. The twins were still missing. Okane must have wandered off again, and Olane was looking for her. They were more than two hundred years old; some unpredictability was to be expected.
Off to the side of the council table were the two chairs for the senior Robes: the Master of the Horse and the Commander of the Red Robes. Kendall, five years younger than Shandon and Hirschi, still sported thick, curly chestnut brown hair. Her shapely legs, clad in men’s breeches, were stretched out in front of her. She had a knack for looking relaxed, even in the most serious situations.
The twins walked in, chattering in their own made-up language. Even Shandon, a master linguist, couldn’t understand them.
“Be seated,” Tovalen snapped at them. “Our Master of the Scrolls has returned. We have many serious matters to discuss before dusk falls.”
* * *
The formalities done and the ritual prayer for guidance said, Tovalen opened the meeting in his usual blunt style.
“The Master of Scrolls—that would be you, Shandon, in case you forgot—is pledged to live at Yassin. But you have not been here for nearly two years, by my count. We’re lucky Oberin took over your duties.”
“When you left last, you took a beater, and it has not been returned,” Soa grumbled. Soa had been Master of the Horse before his elevation to the Council, and he took beaters very seriously. As well he might. A good weatherbeater cost gold, especially the ones the Council needed. Only they could manage the steep, icy mountain paths.
“We’ll get to that,” Umritz said. The fifth Council member’s weathered face was so lined it seemed indistinct; only the amber eyes blazed forth. “The injury done to our truce with the Chosen is a far more serious matter. There’s an uproar now about some village girl you took.”
Hirschi raised the banner with the sigil of his office, a white horse against a blue background, to get permission to speak.
Soa nodded.
“Is Shandon on trial here? Because it seems all that could wait. We have an emergency, and our Master of the Scrolls is here to serve. We can’t hope to triumph without him.”
Kendall didn’t bother to raise her own scarlet flag with the sword. “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” she drawled.
Tovalen flared his nostrils, but when he spoke his voice was modulated. “I assume Hirschi informed you, Shandon? The House of Luca writes that the Demon escaped.”
“Yes,” Shandon said. “I was not surprised. You have wondered at my journeys and thought me negligent of my duties. I was preparing for this day.”
Kendall shot him an angry look. “That’s why you saddled me with Delphine. You could have said.”
“So your excursions through Trea were to recruit warriors? But why only women?” Soa asked.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Tovalen huffed.
Shandon grasped the opportunity to evade Soa’s question and answered Tovalen instead. “I could not show the prophecy as proof for my quest. The Cabinet demanded it back. In this time of financial austerity, I judged my request to train more Robes would be denied. I used my own remaining gold instead.”
“You still could have asked,” Olane said. “We would have believed you, even without the prophecy in your hand.”
Soa frowned. “Forgive me, Shandon. Your explanation seems suspect.”
“Then I will give you the full explanation.” Shandon braced himself. “You won’t like this next part. There is a traitor among us.”
He was spared answering any questions for a while, as everyone spoke at once. Finally, Tovalen pounded a gavel.
“Who is this traitor?”
“I wish I knew.”
“You’d best recite this prophecy.”
Shandon gave them the edited version he’d created.
The six-hundred-year cycle ends as it began,
In mortal strife.
When the Demon escapes her prison
To threaten every life.
Then fear the setting of the sun,
The dark’s called into this world.
The Demon awaits the brave and bold—
Claws bloody, wings unfurled.
Mannites and warriors amass;
Splintered by treachery, alliances shatter like glass.
Water runs beneath the foundation;
Councils falter, leaders lack inspiration.
The Council members looked at each other warily, except for Okane, who wept as she mumbled, “Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.”
“Not much hope there,” Umritz said. “It sounds unfinished.”
Shandon cleared his throat. Luckily, he was saved from answering by Kendall’s inte
rruption.
“I can’t believe that of a Mannite. How do you know it’s true?” she burst out.
“When I translated it from Eldering the prophecy still rhymed. That is one sign. The other is that the Demon returned, just as predicted.”
“You should have been here,” Olane remonstrated.
“My wanderings served to give me a cover. Everywhere I went, I listened for rumors. As soon as I heard reports of a sighting, I rushed to warn you.”
“Not before provoking the Priest-King. We still have to talk about the dead Intercessor,” Tovalen said.
“The Prime wrote us,” Soa pointed out to Shandon. “We didn’t need you patrolling Trea.”
Olane gestured airily. “Shandon’s right, though. It’s not as if we could rely on the Vendrisi. They’re calculating merchants.”
Soa weighed in. “Their Prime’s a randy rogue. Always searching for another female to impregnate, so he can beget his required five offspring.”
“This Prime just offered help,” Hirschi pointed out. “He’s waiting for guidance.”
“Let us decide on our course of action, and then you can write. I move we secure the Elementals’ prison,” Tovalen said.
“Definitely. Now we’re getting somewhere,” Kendall remarked.
“I know these meetings are not to your taste, young one,” Tovalen snapped.
Kendall made a show of yawning. “I beg your pardon. I was up at dawn training our warriors.”
“Let’s take a vote on sending a force to the Elementals’ prison,” Soa proposed.
The resolution passed, with all members voting for it except for the statue of Krossos Mannine, which as usual did not speak.
“Who will go?” Soa said.
Shandon had dreaded this moment. He wanted to fetch Berona to Yassin himself, to bring her to safety. But he already knew who they would choose. Since the Elders abandoned them, all they had were the spells he could coax out of the Cabinet of Mysteries.
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