“So you’re finally done with Marut Jha?”
Nihim spat to one side. “Every day I wore those robes I felt dirty. Yes, I believe I finally am. I can only pray that El forgives me for the things I’ve done while wearing them.”
Davian crept a little closer, keeping to the thick brush on the side of the road. Nocturnal creatures were beginning to stir around him, masking any small noises he might be making.
“I wish I could have properly repaid you for saving her,” Nihim said suddenly.
“There was never a need. You know that,” said Taeris. “I’d make the same choice again if the opportunity came.”
Nihim sighed. “But it lost you your chance to go home, sins forgiven. I know how much that meant. Now even more than I did back then.”
“And now here I am, about to go home anyway, but this time with evidence. And if I can convince the Council of the danger, they’ll trip over themselves in their haste to make amends. Who knows. Maybe they’ll even decide not to hand me over for execution.” Taeris shrugged. “Everything for a reason, old friend.”
Nihim raised an eyebrow. “So you’re going with them now?”
“I have to. When they were going to be traveling with the other Gifted, the risk was acceptable. But by themselves… even once we’re through Deilannis, I can’t just send them off with Caeden and hope for the best, not without knowing his purpose in all of this. There’s still a very real chance he’s dangerous.”
Nihim inclined his head. “You won’t hear any argument from me. Just… be careful.”
Taeris grunted in acknowledgement, staring at the ground in contemplative silence for a few seconds. “Do you have any regrets?”
Nihim didn’t respond for a moment, lost in thought. Then he exhaled heavily. “I do. Of course I do. But there’s nothing that stands out—nothing that breaks my heart or plays on my mind. I served El as I thought best; beyond that nothing is important.”
Taeris smiled. “A good life, then?”
Nihim smiled back. “One that was worthwhile. That made a difference. I couldn’t have asked for more than that.”
Taeris looked at the ground again, swallowing. “You’re taking this better than I am,” he admitted, his voice catching.
Nihim laughed. “I’ve had twenty years to resolve myself to it. Twenty years of knowing I couldn’t die. Twenty years of understanding that I was playing some small part in the Grand Design.” He shook his head, putting a consoling hand on Taeris’s shoulder. “It’s more than I could have hoped for, probably more than I deserved. Don’t mourn me, Taeris. There’s no need.”
Taeris nodded, releasing a shaky breath. “I wish I had your faith. It would be a comfort, given what’s ahead.”
Nihim just smiled. “One day,” he said with certainty.
There was another long silence.
“We should get back,” said Taeris eventually, glancing at the sky, which was now showing more than a few stars. “Those boys have been glaring daggers at each other all day. I think the princess may have saddled us with more trouble than help.”
Nihim grunted. “I’m surprised she sent any help at all. And Shainwiere, whatever his faults, was a wily choice. Too many swords would have drawn attention, but that young man will be worth ten normal men to you in a battle. He may make the difference if a patrol catches you out.”
Taeris frowned. “I know. I’m surprised as well, to be honest; Shainwiere needs to get out of the country, but there were easier ways for him to do so. It was generous of her to send him. She has some connection with young Wirr that I haven’t been able to puzzle out as yet.”
Nihim watched him, smiling. “That must rub the wrong way.”
Taeris snorted. “You know me too well.”
They paused, then turned back toward the camp. “The Boundary is going to fail soon. I’m sure of it. The time is finally coming and all I can see are the dark days ahead, old friend,” said Taeris quietly.
Nihim clapped Taeris on the shoulder. “Then I suppose I’m leaving it to you to shine some light.” His tone was nonchalant, but he wore a serious expression. Taeris considered him for a few moments, then nodded.
Now ahead of them, Davian darted away as quietly as he could.
He pondered what he’d overheard as he hurried back toward camp. Much of it made no sense to him—but even so, one thing was clear.
Taeris might be on their side, but he wasn’t telling them everything.
Chapter 21
Wirr yawned.
There was still no sign of Taeris and Nihim—or Davian, for that matter. No one had spoken much since their departure; he had exchanged a couple of friendly words with Caeden, but Aelric and Dezia appeared happy to keep to themselves.
Wirr was fine with that. Aelric and his attitude had been getting under his skin; every time the other boy spoke, Wirr had to stop himself from making a snide remark in return. Perhaps it was just the young man’s obvious reluctance to be there, or perhaps it was his apparent belief that he was not among equals. Either way, Wirr was going to enjoy the moment Aelric discovered whom he’d been treating with such contempt.
Dezia, though… his eyes wandered over to her and remained fixed there. He inwardly cursed his lack of attentiveness to the girls at Caladel. Ignoring them had been the right thing to do, of course—but it had resulted in his being woefully inexperienced when it came to women.
Then he forced down the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat at the thought of the school. Those girls were all dead now. Because of him.
Dezia glanced up, catching his absentminded stare before he had a chance to look away. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, but she just smiled at him, murmuring something to Aelric—who looked displeased and tried unsuccessfully to keep her seated—before rising and making her way around the fire to join him.
“You look like you might be better company than my brother right now,” she said cheerfully as she sat.
Wirr gave her a polite smile, trying not to show any of the grief still sharp in his chest. “That’s a low bar, but I’ll take it.” He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
Dezia grinned. “Yes you did. And you’re right. Aelric is about as cheerful as an empty barn in winter when he gets like this.”
Wirr smiled, relaxing a little. He looked toward Aelric, seeing the young man throwing a fierce scowl in their direction. “So there are times he doesn’t look like that?”
Dezia sneaked a look at Aelric and then turned back to Wirr, giving a small laugh. “Occasionally. Around Karaliene, mainly.” She sighed. “The princess told me what happened. She swore to Aelric that the two of you aren’t… involved, but he’s not the type to let something like that go easily.”
Wirr frowned in confusion. “You mean he thought…” He shook his head, chuckling. “No.”
“I know. But he doesn’t know who you are, so he’s not convinced.” She rolled her eyes. “Though he should still be content to take Karaliene’s word,” she added, mostly to herself.
It took a few moments for what Dezia had said to sink in. “Karaliene told you who I am?” Wirr asked in a low voice, suddenly focused.
Dezia nodded. “Not the whole story, but enough. I hope you don’t mind.”
Wirr shook his head, smiling. “No. If Karaliene trusts you, so do I.” He was surprised to find it was true. “You must be close.”
Dezia gave a modest shrug. “We’re friends.” She cast an uncertain glance at Caeden, who was a small distance away but potentially still within earshot. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about this now, though.”
Wirr hesitated, then stood, offering his hand to Dezia. “There’s still a little light left. Perhaps you’d like to walk with me for a while?” Dezia raised an eyebrow. “To talk,” Wirr clarified hurriedly. “I have plenty of questions about what’s been happening back home, but I can’t ask them around the others.”
Dezia smiled. “Of course.” She took Wirr�
��s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
They were about to stroll away when Aelric’s voice cut through the quiet, thick with irritation. “Where are you going?”
Dezia sighed, turning back to her brother. “For a walk.”
Aelric stood, anger now plain on his face. He crossed to them in a few quick strides and grabbed Dezia by the arm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Wirr scowled. “Leave her alone, you fool,” he said without thinking.
A heartbeat later he discovered he had the tip of a sword at his throat. The camp had gone deathly silent, the others watching in concern; the air had a tense feel to it, as if there were violence in it just waiting to happen. Wirr stayed perfectly still, not sure how far to trust Aelric’s judgment.
“Perhaps you would like to duel with the fool,” Aelric said in an icy tone. “First to draw blood?”
Wirr shook his head slowly. He was angry, but he knew he would be no match for Aelric.
Aelric stepped back, lowering his sword with a look of smug satisfaction. “Just as I thought.”
“I’ll duel with you.”
Aelric’s expression froze. Everyone turned as one to see Caeden reclining lazily on the ground, regarding the young swordsman with a half-amused, half-annoyed expression.
Aelric snorted. “Put a sword in the hands of a murderer? I think not.”
Caeden merely raised an eyebrow at the insult. “‘Every man who holds a sword in his hand, holds murder in his heart.’”
“What?” Aelric looked bemused. Wirr didn’t recognize the reference, either—Caeden was clearly quoting someone—but Aelric’s hesitation lasted only a moment. “Very well,” he snarled, striding over to one of the horses and locating a well-wrapped blade in one of the saddlebags.
He tossed the sword at Caeden so that it clattered to the ground at his feet.
“Aelric, stop,” Dezia said in a worried tone. Wirr felt as concerned as she sounded. The expression on Aelric’s face was murderous.
“Caeden, don’t do this,” Wirr said seriously. “I appreciate it, but it’s not worth getting hurt.”
Caeden shook his head as he stooped to pick up the sword. He smiled as he hefted it in his hand, gauging its weight. “Thank you, Wirr, but I’ll be fine,” he said absently, giving the sword an experimental swing. To Wirr’s surprise he appeared to know how to handle the weapon.
Caeden walked away from the fire, over to where Aelric was waiting. Wirr and Dezia backed away, giving the two boys plenty of room.
Aelric’s expression reminded Wirr of a cat looking at a mouse it had finally cornered.
“Let’s begin,” he said, his smile confident. “Touch.”
Caeden followed the form by tapping Aelric’s outstretched blade with his own, and then they were on their guard, circling warily. Wirr watched with trepidation, wondering if he should intervene and stop the fight before it began. Aside from his personal concern for Caeden, an injury to either man could spell disaster for their journey, and Aelric’s temperament was clearly not to be relied upon.
Suddenly Aelric attacked, faster than Wirr would have believed possible. Caeden’s sword leaped up to meet the challenge; the sound of steel clashing against steel rang out as Aelric struck again and again in quick succession, raining down blows as Caeden desperately defended. Then the attack was broken off and Aelric was back on the balls of his feet, watching and circling, a little out of breath.
Wirr ran his hands through his hair in helpless frustration. “This is folly,” he said as calmly as he could, addressing both combatants. “If one of you gets hurt, it puts us all in danger.”
Aelric responded with another flurry of blows; for the first time, Wirr noticed how smoothly Caeden was responding. For every graceful move forward by Aelric, Caeden had a fluid counter.
And he was fast.
Wirr watched, mouth agape, as Caeden turned aside another of Aelric’s attacks, his sword a blur, every small movement liquid. Beads of sweat had begun to form on Aelric’s brow, and Wirr thought he saw a flash of concern on the young nobleman’s face.
Then Caeden attacked.
Everything just… flowed; there was no telling where one move began and another ended. Caeden moved forward calmly, methodically, as if the motion cost him no effort, no energy at all. Yet his blade sang in front of him, impossible for the eye to follow, forcing Aelric back and back until they were almost at the road.
Aelric faltered.
Wirr watched in disbelief as Aelric’s sword cartwheeled through the air, falling several feet away. Aelric stumbled backward and fell, raising his hands in surrender as the point of Caeden’s sword rested above his heart.
A few long seconds passed in silence, everyone frozen.
Wirr turned his gaze to Caeden’s face, suddenly nervous for a very different reason. The young man’s expression had barely changed, but something in his eyes…
Wirr shivered, and it was not from the cold.
“Caeden,” he called out.
The sound seemed to break something within Caeden, who slowly lowered his sword, eventually tossing it aside to join Aelric’s.
“If you want to act the fool in future, be prepared for someone to call you on it,” he said softly.
He turned and retreated to the campfire, sitting down without another word.
The others were still staring at him in shock when Davian emerged from the darkened road, a little out of breath. He nodded to Wirr, then frowned when he took in the scene before him.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Wirr shook his head, still unwilling to believe what he’d just seen. He lowered his voice. “You hear anything interesting?”
“Nothing that made any sense.” Davian glanced behind him. “They shouldn’t be far—”
There was motion just beyond the light of the campfire, and then Taeris and Nihim were crashing through the surrounding brush, the urgency of their arrival drawing everyone’s attention.
“Sha’teth. Get your weapons,” Taeris said without preamble, quietly but with such force that everyone leaped to obey.
Soon they were all arranged in a tight circle with their backs to the campfire, silent, each one straining to see into the gathering gloom. Wirr’s heart pounded, limbs heavy with dread, as he remembered their last encounter with one of the creatures.
“Which direction?” whispered Dezia to Taeris, her bow at the ready.
“Out there,” said Taeris, gesturing a little to the left of where he and Nihim had emerged. “We cut through the forest on the way back, spotted it amongst the trees. It saw us, too, but…” Taeris shook his head, looking troubled. “It didn’t attack. It seemed like it was just watching the camp.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” asked Aelric.
“I suppose. Just… strange,” replied Taeris, his expression uneasy as he stared into the darkness.
The silence began to stretch, the tension almost unbearable. Then the hush was suddenly broken by a low, hissing voice coming from all directions at once. It was difficult to tell, but Wirr thought it sounded female.
“Darei ildos Tal’kamar sha’teth,” it said.
“Where is it?” murmured Davian.
Wirr’s eyes strained against the darkness, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. “What did it say?”
Taeris didn’t reply straight away. “I think it’s telling us to hand Caeden over,” he said eventually. To Wirr’s left Caeden gave a small, nervous nod of confirmation.
“Darei ildos Tal’kamar sha’teth,” the voice hissed again. “Sha’teth eldris karathgar si.”
Taeris shook his head. “Eldarei Tal’kamar,” he called out. “Sha’teth eldris gildin.”
The low, rasping sound of the sha’teth’s laughter filled the air. “Your Darecian is not what it once was, Taeris Sarr.”
Everyone’s head swiveled toward Taeris in surprise, but he ignored the looks. “What do you want?” he shouted into the
darkness.
“You know what I want,” came the whispery-hoarse voice. It was definitely female, Wirr decided. “Give him to me, and I will leave you unharmed.”
“No.” Taeris was emphatic.
“So quick to decide the fate of all,” hissed the voice. “Perhaps your companions think differently?”
“No.” It was Davian.
“No,” Wirr added. He was echoed by Nihim and Dezia.
Aelric gave Caeden a long look. “No,” he said into the darkness.
“Fools,” whispered the voice.
There was silence.
After a few minutes had passed, Wirr could bear the strain no longer. “Do you think it’s gone?” he asked no one in particular.
“Yes,” said Taeris, relaxing his stance. “I think it has.”
Wirr felt his muscles loosen a little as he took a deep breath. Beside him he could hear the others doing the same.
Caeden looked around at them. “Thank you,” he said. He glanced across at Aelric, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement. Aelric hesitated, then gave a brief nod back.
Taeris put a hand on Caeden’s shoulder. “Nothing to thank us for, lad.”
Dezia turned to the older man, frowning. “How did it know your name?”
Taeris shrugged. “When I was on the Council at Tol Athian, there were occasions I had to deal with the sha’teth. Apparently I made an impression,” he said wryly. Then he frowned. “The bigger question is, why didn’t it attack?”
Nihim coughed. “This may sound foolish, but… could it have been afraid? Or at least cautious? The way it was hanging back when we saw it, almost like it was hesitating…”
Taeris rubbed his chin. “Perhaps. We did kill one of its brothers, and nobody’s done that before.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Once I would have said no. But if they are truly out of Athian’s control, there’s no telling what else has changed.”
Nihim accepted the statement with a thoughtful nod, and everyone began drifting back to their positions around the campfire. Wirr caught himself staring at Dezia again as she took her seat, until a gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump.
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