He’d taken his attention off Hirschi for too long. The warrior’s hand crept forward with the sword—closer, closer to Shandon, even as Hirschi stared with unbelieving eyes. “What’s happening? I can’t…” With a great cry, he turned the sword against himself, sinking the blade into his thigh. His shriek of pain echoed through the woods.
Hirschi’s eyes rolled up as he fainted. Shandon made a warding spell and sat down heavily, wondering how he would find the strength to tie up Hirschi and transport him out of the steep valley, so he could be interrogated. Creating the spells had weakened him.
He did not have long to think.
The fireflies swarmed together, closer and closer, until the light wove into a shape. From one moment to the next, the light faded, and the shape darkened into the looming figure of a clay-colored Elemental. If Shandon hadn’t just seen the fireflies, he would have never guessed the creature’s affinity, though it moved with a certain liquid grace.
Shandon’s strength was ebbing. As he rose, concentrating on his opponent, spots bloomed in front of his eyes. He made a grab for the drinking horn full of water tied to the pommel of his saddle, then moved back cautiously. The Elemental’s dark eyes were locked onto him; it took no notice of the fallen man. Shandon took another step back and tripped over a root. He fell, the precious water spilling out harmlessly.
Would the Elemental harm him? They had not hurt Hirschi, probably because the Demon had a use for the warrior. What if that happened to him too? Could Shandon himself be induced to harm Berona? Should he kill himself rather than let that pass?
The clump of grass by Shandon’s feet burst into fire and he yanked his robe away from the licking flames. His horse gave out a shrill neigh of fear and ran toward the woods.
The Fire Elemental was clearly the main danger right now.
Shandon’s core was water; he had water affinity. If he could get to the river, he could scoop more water into his drinking cup, magically augment it, and throw it at the Elemental. He half-slipped and half-fell as he stumbled down the rocky side of the ravine. The creature followed slowly, but with determination. Its steps left behind scorched earth. A bitter smell filled the air as it opened its mouth and directed a burst of sound at Shandon.
It sounded like a curse. Or a warning.
Shandon slipped on a wet rock and fell the last couple of feet. His knee lit up with pain. He suppressed it and scooped his horn into the water, which lapped at his feet. The Elemental hovered only a few feet away on the bank of the river, agitated. Shandon closed his eyes, concentrating on the spell of augmentation, so that the water would be powerful enough. The coolness rising over his ankles made him look down fast. The water was gray, a reflection of the sullen sky. And it was rising, as if he stood in the midst of spring floods rather than winter abeyance.
Shandon looked at the Elemental blocking his flight from the river. The fog writhed around him in thick ropes, making his head heavy.
No. Berona. I must return for her. Still so much to teach.
But this time there was no Bolin to save him.
A fell voice hissed. “At last.” A spray of droplets rose from black wings, and his sight clouded.
As the water rose up to his thighs, it solidified into ice. Winter was the season of water, just as spring belonged to wood. His heart slowed. The weakness he’d felt since escaping the Forest of Bones returned. He slumped, only the ice holding him upright. Numbness crept up his arms.
The thought of Berona left alone kept him struggling vainly, like a fly in a web. Though she couldn’t witness his efforts, he felt he owed her that. He’d convinced Berona to join the Mannites, promised to take care of her…
The ice held him fast as more water pooled over the smooth surface, rising to his chest and freezing in turn. His hands beat at the sheet of ice, and he moaned.
Who would take care of his Girl of Fire? Oberin must guide her. Oberin was not only diligent, but he had feelings for Berona. As someone who’d nurtured a secret love of his own, Shandon could recognize it in others.
His final thought wasn’t of her, though. When his heart stopped, he was smiling, imagining himself and Bolin reborn in some faraway land, where they could live and love freely.
CHAPTER 34
Berona
Oberin brought the body to the Red hut to prepare for the ceremonial burning. Kendall, Kea, Moab, Hirschi, and I had come together to say our farewells to our friend and mentor.
It was the eyes that got me the most. Or where the eyes used to be. The area had been covered with a cloth since my first startled cry.
I stared at the remnants of Shandon’s face. “She took his eyes before she killed him. He saw too much.” Tears rolled down my cheeks.
Oberin cleared his throat. “Fish do that,” he said softly. “He was in the water for three days before Moab and I found him.”
Kendall moved closer to Hirschi, who sat slumped on my bed as if someone had extinguished his life.
I approached the stretcher with Shandon’s corpse and squeezed his cold, blue hand, as if he could still feel me. Hirschi’s sobs startled me so much that I dropped it and whirled around to face him.
“The Demon did this,” I said. “I’m going to finish her.”
I was so furious that when he said in his weary voice, “It was the Chosen,” I rebuked him.
“You admit you don’t even remember. You claim you saw soldiers at some point in your journey, but you can’t tell me why they killed Shandon. They would want to interrogate him, not kill him.”
Oberin explained. “The Chosen don’t talk about how they get confessions. An Intercessor often submerges the bound subject into water. If the suspect floats, he’s guilty and is brought to trial for sorcery. There’s no mark on Shandon. Perhaps they drowned him during questioning.”
“Why would there be no sign of a struggle?” Then it hit me. I had Shandon’s sword. He was no Sidewinder, to fight his way free without a weapon.
Hirschi’s voice was so soft I could barely hear him. “I was wounded myself, by a man’s hand. The Demon does not bear a sword, nor do Elementals touch iron.”
Oberin laid a restraining hand on my shoulder. I shook him off. “It’s just your explanations are so vague, as they were with Delphine. And yet we all believe you without question.”
“Surely this can wait for another time. Hirschi and Shandon have been through so much together,” Oberin soothed.
“I loved Shandon too,” I shot back. “This has the Demon’s touch all over it.”
Kendall got up. “Let’s go outside. Are you up for a bout of training? Real swords?”
Yes, I was up for that. If the Demon had appeared before me that moment, I would have run at her blindly, spurred on by hate and guilt. For hadn’t Shandon left the safety of the camp to get my herbs? My weakness caused his death.
I relied on Shandon more than anyone else, even after he was sick. Though I loved Kea, he did not have experience—or wisdom. Who would prepare me now?
* * *
It was after supper when Oberin came to visit the Red hut. Moab had gone to his love nest with Rheyna, and Kilgad was cleaning supper dishes. I’d had no appetite for Kea’s embraces, so I was alone, cross-legged on top of my cot, reading a history of the Great War. The Mannites were clearly the heroes, the Elders abstract figures in the background, the little cave people treated like silly children. I sighed and put the book down. I was glad of a break. I found the story annoying.
Oberin’s great blue-green eyes were serious. “I’m not returning to Yassin. I’m staying here to take Shandon’s place.”
The grief rose fresh. “No one can take Shandon’s place.”
“Someone needs to train you.”
“Kendall will. I’m going to stab that ugly horrible Demon with Shandon’s sword until she dies.”
“I like Kendall. But there’s things that need to be discussed that she doesn’t understand.”
“Too bad Shandon’s not alive then.”
/> “You’re angry at us?”
I shook my head. “I’m angry at everyone, including myself. The Demon warned me. Why didn’t I take it seriously?”
“You can’t be responsible for everyone. Set your anger aside.”
“I’m a weapon. What do you expect me to be like?” I said.
“I think you’re missing the thrust. This is the Water Demon we’re talking about, the First Mother, the essence of Sea’s grief. It won’t be simple.”
“I’ll train. I’ll train all day, every day.”
“You could be the most amazing sword fighter and you still wouldn’t best her. You do know that, deep inside.”
The rage went out of me. Deflated, I shrank back against the wall, wincing as my shoulder touched it. The wound Delphine gave me ached. “What am I supposed to do? I have no idea.”
“You like the physicality of fighting. By all means, learn. Kendall is an excellent teacher, and Hirschi will instruct you on history and culture. But that won’t be the key to defeating the soul snares.”
“At least fighting is something I can understand. How do I destroy the snares? Do I build a wall around the Forest of Bones?” It sounded like a stupid idea, and a glance at Oberin’s face confirmed it.
“Her weapon has little to do with the actual location. The ghostly forest is a construct that leads into a place of individual darkness. The concept could easily be applied to some other location.”
I didn’t understand him, and at that moment I didn’t want to. “If that’s the best you get out of the Cabinet of Mysteries, you’re wasting your time.”
“Listen to me.” He looked deep in my eyes, and some spark stirred in me. “I can’t see the answer plainly. Know that I’ll be with you. There is no death in my immediate future. We’ll solve this puzzle.”
I blinked at him. “How can you be sure?”
“My father. He has not given up the Mannite ways, though few know that. He dabbles in prophecy. My path and your path will branch at some point in the future. But for a long time, they’re entwined. We’ll be encountering allies, forming new bonds.”
“That’s very mysterious.”
“I don’t mean to be. But I only know part of the puzzle. I could mislead you if I were careless with my words.”
“What allies are you talking about? Tovalen will never like me.”
“Think bigger than our Council.”
“Amur’s Chosen believe I killed their Intercessor. We won’t find any help there.”
He shook his head at me. “An Elemental responded to your call and asked you to journey to the Western Wilderness. The Elders once lived there.”
I frowned. “Am I not to travel to the Forest of Bones then?”
Oberin’s eyes were intense; the green sparks almost seemed to be shooting out. “Depending on which route we take, we’ll be going past the border of the Western Wilderness.”
I felt my way carefully. “Is your uncle Soa preparing to renew contact with the Elders?”
Oberin laughed, a short bark. “We’d have to face what happened a Session ago.”
“What did happen?”
“Only the twins and Krossos Mannine himself know for sure. And one other. Georsi, Kendall and Biruac’s uncle. But let me be clear. We have no backing from the Council for a new alliance.”
The man I’d swore would put the Council before anything else was surprising me.
“You’re telling me when we go, you want me to pick the way that goes past the Elders’ fabled kingdom.”
He smiled. “It’s a Queendom.”
“They might all be dead.”
“Even if they are, there’s a Fire Elemental there who seems willing to help you.”
Oberin was sitting quite close to me. I looked into those blue-green eyes, and I decided right then that whoever the traitor was, it wasn’t Oberin. I would have staked my life on it.
“Thank you for staying at the camp,” I said.
“Shandon would want me to.”
CHAPTER 35
Oberin
Oberin used to think Shandon fussed like an old maid about Berona. There was the threat that Shandon made to the young Browns at the farm, when he’d stowed her there for a few weeks. If the men courted his stunning Girl of Fire, he would personally castrate them. Then there were the fears about her health. Would she get a cut that might suppurate? Was she eating enough to keep her muscles strong?
Now Oberin understood what it was like to worry. His concern was made more acute by his growing love. Berona was rash, prone to throw herself into an activity enthusiastically. She baited Kilgad for being slow until he lashed out at her with his axe, and Oberin had to rush over to make sure she was unhurt. She slept little and sometimes forgot to eat. Occasionally she danced to music only she could hear after she returned from a tryst with Kea.
Kea was a smooth striver, and Oberin would have disliked him, even if it weren’t for his seduction of Berona. But what could he say? Those with fire affinity were loyal to a fault. Berona mistook Kea’s offhand kindnesses as proof of his love.
Sure, he procured duck eggs for her breakfast, complimented her sword fighting, and sought her out in the evenings, to sit nearby. All this while he secretly shared Ilse’s bed in the Yellow hut.
If Berona were to fall with child, how would she fight? Oberin, having known the pleasures of lovemaking himself, doubted she would stop, no matter what he said. He hoped the herbs that he’d brought from Yassin were fresh enough to be effective.
In the meantime, they had other things to discuss. She was intuitive, though she couldn’t memorize the ponderous old spells that were standard for the Yellows. He taught her how to read the stored impressions of the wisps. A touch of her tender hand to the wisp and the opening of her spirit, and she could see all.
He wanted her to know who was watching them, so he had her walk the periphery with him. When she touched the next wisp, she recoiled at the image of a wrinkled old man wearing a faded Green Robe.
“That’s Georsi!”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “He’s been around for a few days.”
“Why didn’t Hirschi grab him? We could interrogate him.”
“Then he would be inside the perimeter. It could be dangerous. Georsi is a master poisoner. He could be the traitor the prophecy referred to.” Oberin harbored doubts about Delphine being the one; she was not of good character, but neither did she seem like a tool of the Demon.
“Georsi’s a Mannite. Why does he want to hurt us?”
“He was betrothed to an Elder Princess during the Great War. She was killed by an Elemental. He blames the Council for her death.”
“Oh.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “You know a lot of things that no one else seems to.”
“Sometimes it’s the Cabinet of Mysteries. Sometimes it’s my uncle or my father.”
“Your father seems wise. I’m glad he’s protecting my mother and sister.” She frowned at the lingering visage of Georsi, fading back into the mist. “He’s so old, and he speaks Eldering. Does he have Elder blood?”
“No.” He paused. “I think the Elders put the curse of immortality on him when the Princess died.”
“Immortality is a curse?”
“When you’re sorry and ashamed. When we return through the red door, we forget our past.”
“What a sad story.”
“You must stay alert at all times. He might lead the Elementals to us.” The Elementals had been striking at random around Yassin, killing sporadically. Of the five recent victims the Council identified, one was a woodcutter, and three were Reds who’d ventured too far from Yassin looking for a runaway horse, thinking they would be safe in a group. There had been a report of an incineration taking place just before he’d left Yassin, this one of a Green who’d gone in search of some witch hazel right by the moat. When his body was found, smoke was still curling off it.
She nodded, face grave. “I’ll be careful.”
At dinner, though, she sa
t next to Kea, entranced by his attentions. Later they slipped into the woods to seek privacy.
Not for the first time, the unwelcome thought stole into his heart. What if Kea was the traitor, sent to undermine Berona’s resolve at a crucial time? The Demon had hinted she had her eye on Kea, but what better way to throw off suspicion?
That night Oberin forced himself to stay up until dawn, reading through the last of the documents he’d gotten from the Cabinet of Mysteries. He’d taken many of the scrolls with him when he’d set out in search of Hirschi and Shandon, knowing he might not return to Yassin.
* * *
The next day Kendall agreed to excuse Berona from practice after lunch, but not before she’d asked Oberin for his reason.
“Shandon wanted me to look after her,” Oberin said.
“You don’t have to hover. She’s a tough girl, and brave.”
“I have some lore to share with her this afternoon. To destroy those soul snares, she’ll have to be more than just a warrior.”
“The Elementals won’t be sitting on the sidelines when we march to destroy the Demon’s new weapon. Berona will need skill with a sword, as well as a wooden staff. Don’t keep her too long,” Kendall said.
* * *
Oberin chose the Green hut for his meeting. The hearth fire burned most of the day, since the food stores and tea were kept there. Berona plopped down next to him in her tunic—face expectant, legs akimbo. She tossed her fur pelt onto a bench. She was getting more like Kendall every day.
He gave her a meaningful look, and she smoothed her tunic down over her leggings and straightened the fur, shaking off the snowflakes, which might mat the pelt. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“I’ve been looking into the matter of the traitor. The Demon can seek out surrogates,” Oberin explained. “It’s a subtle form of possession. The person might not even be aware. She can control someone who is in a weakened state. From her vantage point on the Shadow Plain, she hunts for souls who are vulnerable to her lies.”
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