by Anna Kashina
Kyth looked away again. He knew people liked to say that, but it wasn’t working at all in his case, not so far. The pain was as fresh as if his breakup with Kara happened just yesterday. The fact that she left him for Mai, Kyth’s opposite in every way, made it worse. What could this ruthless man possibly give her that Kyth couldn’t? He swallowed, forcing away these thoughts under Egey Bashi’s knowing gaze.
“Regarding my ability,” he said, “I really don’t know if I can do more. What I did to protect the Majat last time… it was already so hard.”
“Just think again,” Egey Bashi said. “You told me once before that when you focus the elemental power you feel like you are wielding a sword. When you protect others, you sometimes think of balancing a spearhead over each of them. In fact, as I remember, before you started having any weapons training, vast elemental powers tended to overwhelm you. Is this correct?”
“Yes.” Kyth tried to remember the feeling. Raised in the Forestlands, he used to be afraid of open spaces with too much wind, and he had always been terrified getting near large quantities of water. Once he nearly drowned fording a river in a shallow place.
Now, after years of training, he no longer felt this way. In fact, even now, traveling on a barge over the lake so wide that he couldn’t see the distant shore didn’t seem to bother him at all.
“Actually,” he said, “I always thought weapons training was what enabled me to get in touch with my gift. But I… It is not quite true, is it?”
“Very likely not,” Egey Bashi said. “Weapons training did help, and probably sealed the analogy to a sword you tend to evoke when you use your power. But it is all images, no more. Think of Ellah’s gift, for example. She thinks of colors when she detects a truth or a lie, but in reality there are no colors involved at all. It’s an analogy, just like the one you use with weapons – and in your case it seems to have outlived its use. We need to find a different one.”
Kyth frowned. He had been thinking of his skill as an extension of swordplay for so long that it seemed impossible to change the way he looked at it. In part, he always hoped that by following it through, by enabling his skill and weaponry to feed each other, he could eventually become as good as Mai. But that probably wasn’t going to happen, was it?
Unexpectedly, Egey Bashi’s words gave him hope. What if he could find a different way to train, one that didn’t involve the Majat?
“If not a sword, then what could it be?” he asked.
The Keeper leaned back in his chair. “From what I know, Your Highness, your ability to command the elements is an ancient power attributed to your royal line. Legends tell of the Dorn kings turning the ocean tides and forcing wildfires ripping through the lands to fold onto themselves and die. This, to me, calls for something different from a sword or a spearhead you imagine wielding.”
Kyth nodded. In their recent travels, Lady Celana also told him stories from the old chronicles about the deeds of his distant ancestors. And then there was a time, during one of their Kaddim battles, when he was able to turn the power of the entire Kaddim leaders onto themselves and force them to surrender and retreat. He could never figure out what he did that time, but he certainly wasn’t thinking of wielding a sword.
Could he ever invoke this kind of ability again?
“To my knowledge,” Egey Bashi said, “your power is, in many ways, the exact opposite to the Kaddim. Their ability is to smother, while yours is to activate, strengthen, and expand. They diffuse, where you have the unique power to focus. You tell me you always use mental images of cutting the blanket of Kaddim’s power using swords and spearheads, right?”
“Right.”
“Perhaps, Your Highness, if you think of your ability in more of the expansive terms, you may find a new aspect to it?”
Kyth hesitated. The Keeper’s voice evoked a string of images in his mind. The power of the wind, the water, the fire, focused into an invisible blade – no, not a blade, a beam that could empower his weapon and make him stronger and more agile. But if he focused more, he could mold this image into other forms. A ball, hurling through the sky as if shot out of a cannon. A shield that could deflect an enemy’s attack. A dome that could descend onto his entire group, protecting them from outside forces. In this form, it did not cut through the Kaddim power, but it could still counter it, force it down to the ground and to the darkest pits below…
He lifted his face. “I think I understand, Magister,” he said. “My power… I can wield it in different ways. A blade is only one of them.”
“Good.” Egey Bashi reached forward and patted his arm. “You’ve just taken an essential first step.”
“A first step?” Kyth felt affronted again. The Magister’s words just made everything he learned before seem insignificant.
The Keeper looked at him levelly, as if oblivious to the emotion, but a sharp gleam in his eyes spoke otherwise. “I hope you forgive an old man, Prince Kythar, for telling you one more thing. To win this war, it will be very important for you to control your feelings. Your jealousy of Aghat Mai, your desire to prove yourself, they are all understandable, believe me. I was once young and idealistic myself. But what I learned over the years is that the big picture is always grander than all these petty emotions. We are facing an enemy much more vast and powerful than anything we ever encountered before. Only an equal or greater power can ever hope to overcome them. Believe me, it will take everything we have – and more. No matter how hard it may seem, it is absolutely essential for you to put your personal feelings aside.”
Kyth sighed. He knew the Magister was right. It just seemed that every time he made an effort, Mai popped up into his way, mocking and devaluing everything he did.
“I will try,” he said. “But Mai – he makes it so difficult sometimes.”
Egey Bashi nodded. “Aghat Mai is older and more mature than you, but not by much. He is indeed prone to all the same faults. An effort on both of your sides would be important. Especially where Kara is concerned.”
“Kara should be kept out of this, Magister. She’s going through enough.”
“If both of you continue to defend her no matter what, she will potentially become our downfall.”
Kyth lifted his chin. “What are you saying, Magister?”
Egey Bashi let out a sigh. “You saw for yourself what happened at the port. This was only the beginning. If we don’t put a stop to it, by the time we reach the Kaddim fortress every one of their warriors will potentially be able to fight like her. If this happens, we stand no chance. She must be disabled, one way or another, before it’s too late.”
“Disabled.”
“Yes. Death might still be an option, once I complete my research. But since it appears too risky at the moment, she should at least be sedated. We can also explore ways to weaken her physically, so that her Majat ability – or at least her using it when provoked – would no longer be a threat.”
Kyth pushed away from the table. He was not going to stand for this kind of talk. Worse, in the depth of his heart he knew that Egey Bashi was right. Yet, following this line of reasoning seemed unthinkable. For once, he felt glad that Kara was Mai’s responsibility – if only the Diamond could be trusted not to change his mind.
He did not bother with a response as he stepped out of the cabin onto the broad deck. The leading barge was no more than a speck in the distance ahead. Even if he strained his eyes, he couldn’t make out individual shapes among the groups of people on decks. He hoped Kara was safe among them. He hoped, at least for the time being, she was at peace.
10
Escape
Kara woke to the sound of running feet and voices outside. She lifted her head to see that Mai’s place next to her on the bed was empty. He must have been called out early, and left quietly not to disturb her sleep.
The barge was no longer moving. Yet, the voices, while loud, did not seem alarmed. Have we reached the shore already? That seemed possible, even if a few hours ahead of schedule. Th
e wind on the trip had been steady and strong, leaving the oarsmen very little to do.
Her skin crept with warmth as she thought of the last two days when she and Mai had the cabin all to themselves, with a lot of spare time to enjoy each other’s company. The only time she could forget about her link, at least temporarily, was in Mai’s arms. If she could be alone with him all the time, she wouldn’t be too worried about the Kaddim stealing her gift. But on the march that awaited them they would have no privacy and nearly no opportunity to spend time with each other. Every minute she stayed alive put them all in danger. She was happy that she got to have the last two days, but her time was up. She had to act now, to save everyone else.
She quietly slipped on her clothes and gear and slid outside.
The gray light of the breaking dawn dissipated into the thick morning mists. The dark line of the shore loomed ahead, no more than two cable lengths away. She ran her eyes around the activity on the deck, men preparing their gear and horses for disembarking.
Mai was at the far end, engaged in an intense conversation with the barge’s command crew. He smiled to her and she waved back, edging behind the stacks of crates and sail cloth piled in the aft section of the barge. She briefly considered getting her horse, tethered among the pack, but decided against it. If she took the horse, her absence would be noticed almost immediately, precluding her from carrying out her plan.
Of course, with the amount of weapons she carried, the fastest and most efficient way would be to slit her own throat, saving everyone a lot of trouble. But the Keepers had equipped Mai and his men with some advanced cures which could easily heal deadly wounds and were rumored to work even for a short time after death. With everything at stake she couldn’t possibly risk it. She had to come ashore and travel far enough from her group to ensure she was absolutely alone before she tried anything, with no possibility of help arriving within a sufficiently long time.
She tried her best to stifle all regrets as she allowed herself a last glimpse of Mai. He was a natural focus of all activity – a born leader, a great warrior, and deep inside, the kindest soul she had ever known. Just knowing that he loved her, that they had a chance to be together, even if briefly, made her life worth living. Giving it up was the least she could do to make sure Mai’s enemies did not destroy everything he fought for. She tried to tell herself that Mai would understand, that he wouldn’t blame her later on for taking matters into her own hands, but quickly dismissed the thought. His understanding was not essential. There were greater things at stake.
She stepped further behind the crates and quietly slid overboard.
Kyth’s barge was making way to the pier when he heard shouting and saw men running around on the shore. Their crowd fell away as Mai swept through, like a slim black-clad tornado that left havoc in its wake. His pale face was set into a contorted mask that looked frightening even from this distance.
Kyth’s heart fell. Something terrible must have happened, just a short time ago. Is Kara all right? Did more Kaddim envoys attack her?
He jumped off the barge before the ropes were secured into place and ran toward the activity.
It took effort to break through the tight ring of the Majat top Gems. They stepped aside to let Kyth through as they recognized him, closing behind him with a grim finality that settled the Prince into a realization that things were far worse than he thought.
“Mai!” Kyth shouted as he finally caught sight of the Diamond. “What happened?”
The Majat turned an unseeing gaze toward him. It seemed to take Mai a moment to recognize him.
“Kara,” Mai said. “She wasn’t on board our barge when we arrived.”
“What do you mean, she wasn’t on board?”
Mai’s eyes flared. “You have a hearing problem?”
Kyth stepped back. Arguing with Mai in this state was not only futile, but dangerous. Besides, if something indeed happened to Kara, it was best to leave Mai to handle it. But what could it possibly be? Did the Kaddim find a way to disable her and kidnap her from a Majat-filled barge? Not likely, especially given Mai’s resolve not to let her out of sight. Was she swept away through the Kaddim vortex? But didn’t Magister Egey Bashi say such a thing was not possible without a Kaddim leader working the vortex magic right next to her?
Mai was giving orders, many of them in the Majat language that seemingly consisted entirely of sharp consonants, not possible for a normal person to even pronounce, let alone understand. As Kyth watched, one of the men stepped forward with a writing set, holding it out while Mai quickly scribbled a note on a piece of parchment. Mesmerized, Kyth watched another man fold the parchment up, and hand it down the line to a tall warrior petting a large hooded hawk perched on his forearm.
“Mai, what are you doing?” he asked.
“None of your bloody business.”
Kyth lifted his chin. “It is my bloody business, as you should well know. I am a part of our campaign too – and an important one, last time I checked!”
Mai’s glance glinted like a blade, but before the argument could erupt, Egey Bashi stepped up between them.
“Really, Aghat Mai. Prince Kythar is right. This concerns all of us, doesn’t it?”
The Diamond froze in mid-movement, his brief glance forcing the Keeper back a few steps. Then, Mai’s face softened, as if a switch had flipped inside to turn him into a more normal mode.
“You’re right, Magister,” he said. “Sorry, Kyth. I was preoccupied.”
That’s a bloody understatement. Kyth nodded his acceptance, knowing better than saying this out loud. The situation seemed explosive enough without it.
“I was with Kara until morning,” Mai said. “Then I went on deck to organize the departure. I saw her briefly when she emerged from the cabin later on. Then, no one saw her again. We have at least an hour unaccounted for.”
“What about her horse?” Egey Bash asked.
“Still here. As are all the other horses we brought. I’m certain she’s not on horseback.” Mai signaled to the bird handler and the man removed the hood, flinging the hawk high into the sky. It took off with a long screeching cry.
“What’s this for?” Kyth asked.
Mai hesitated, as if deciding if he was worthy of an answer. “A message to the local lord. If she passes through his lands, they’ll delay her long enough for our search parties to reach her.”
Kyth stared. “Is this local lord loyal to the Majat Guild?”
“No. I’m calling in a personal favor.”
A personal favor? From a Lakeland Lord? Kyth’s mouth fell open. To his knowledge, these lands, south of the lakes between the Forestlands and the northern marshes of Bengaw, were nearly lawless, each small lord claiming as much authority as a king. The crown never bothered to go after them, leaving them to settle their feuds on their own. Personal favors meant nothing down here, if he studied his history right.
What could Mai have possibly done to count on one?
“Do you believe then that she left of her own accord?” Egey Bashi asked.
Mai’s eyes darted between groups of warriors preparing for departure with speed and efficiency that made Kyth blink. “No one could have possibly forced her. Not on my barge.”
The Kaddim could. The thought made Kyth feel cold inside. She may have thought she was acting of her own accord, but what if…
He exchanged a quick glance with Magister Egey Bashi, the Keeper’s dark gaze echoing his worst fears.
“Do you think they may have found a way to control her, Magister?” he asked quietly.
The Keeper held a pause. “Let’s hope Aghat Mai’s efforts to find her bring a result. Then we can learn for sure.” He turned and strode away.
Kyth turned to see Mai’s intent gaze fixed on him. He had forgotten how sharp the Majat’s hearing was. Trying to keep secrets around Mai was a bad idea, especially when something so dear to him was concerned.
He expected another verbal attack, but to his surprise Mai’s gaze
softened as he met Kyth’s.
“I’ll get her back.” It seemed as if Mai was going to say something else, but at that moment a young Majat warrior led in his horse. Mai swept into the saddle in one fluid move, leaving the unsaid words hanging. His hand shot up, a signal that sent men into their saddles, throwing their horses into gallop, dissipating in different directions. In moments, all that was left of them on the port plaza was a light cloud of dust melting into the remains of the morning mist.
Kyth stood for a moment looking after them. Then he turned around and went to search for Magister Egey Bashi.
11
Ambush
Kara chose the most secluded spot along the shore to emerge from the water. She avoided the reed thickets, which could give her away by the trail of broken stems she was bound to leave if she tried to walk through. She also stayed clear of the long, grassy stretches of shoreline that were clearly visible from the port city of Jai-Allad where the barges with the Majat had landed. Drifting with the soft undercurrent to avoid creating a wake stream that could be seen from afar, she threw a last glance at the rows of wooden sheds that flanked the docks, their flat rooftops gradually giving way to the thatched reed roofs that prevailed in the rest of the city.
Southern Lakelands had a murky history. Originally a disputed land between Illitand and Bengaw, the two rival powers that emerged after the fall of the Old Empire, they all fell into the newly formed kingdom of Tallan Dar in the wake of the Holy Wars, but allegiances and loyalties here remained mixed. Some of the Bengaw nobility settled here, paying tribute to the king across the lakes but otherwise enjoying a nearly free run of their domains. Further south, the lands stepped dangerously close to the Forestlands, which harbored the apex of the old magic forced down by the Church but by no means subdued. Kara suppressed a shiver remembering Ayalla, the Forest Mother, who reigned there and whose spiders had threatened her so recently at the King’s court. Perhaps she should have provoked them back then and let them finish the job? If only one could be so smart in hindsight.