by J. C.
"It's all right, " Leesil said.
He saw Magiere hesitate, her attention split between him and the woman. She lowered her blade.
"I swear on his life, " she said, the words grating out of her throat. "I will tell your master you sent me. Now spit it out! What is his name, and where do we find him?"
Relief filled Osceline's lovely face, followed by satisfaction. A silent tension passed through Leesil as he wondered if they'd just made some terrible mistake in bargaining with this skulker in the belly of the keep.
"Ubad, " Osceline said, calm and collected. "His name is Master Ubad. "
She stepped away from the door as if there were no longer any threat she need be concerned with. She even turned her back on Leesil, facing Magiere directly.
"You can find him in the wetlands beyond the village of Apudalsat, " Osceline continued. "To the east, in the province of the Sclaven on the edge of the Everfen region. The keep is deserted, as is the village, but he is there. Go to the keep— he will know when you arrive. He is wise and will explain all to you. But do not forget your oath to me. "
Osceline turned around and stepped past Leesil without looking back. She walked down into the passage's dark end. Magiere started after her, but Leesil grabbed her arm.
"Let her go. " When he glanced back, Osceline was gone. "I believe she was telling the truth... for what little she did tell us. "
Chap rumbled softly in Wynn's arms as she crouched behind the dog.
"We have not finished looking, " the sage suggested. "There might still be—"
"We've found nothing here, " Leesil corrected, "and I don't think looking further will change that. We'd best leave while we can. "
He saw the ridged clench of Magiere's jaw, and he'd seen how close she'd come to cutting into Osceline when the woman had made her swear on his life. Magiere turned away, heading for the hidden staircase, but her hand slid gently down his arm as she did so. Leesil waved Wynn and Chap on behind her.
He looked back down the passage Osceline had taken as he sheathed one stiletto and pulled out his crystal. There was something wrong here. He stepped farther down the row of cell doors shut tight on both sides.
In three steps, the crystal's light revealed an empty deadend, and he'd heard no cell doors open.
Leesil backed carefully to the intersection of the corridors, watching every shadow.
He followed the others up to the study, looking back over his shoulder more than once. From the wood-paneled room, he led the way out into the hall and then down the narrow stairs facing the door. This emptied into a corridor on the main floor, and it did not take long to reach the kitchen and step out behind the courtyard barracks once again. Leesil locked the door behind them and refastened the key to the belt of the unconscious guard. Magiere handed him her falchion, and he slipped it into the sheath.
When they returned to the bolt-hole inside the castle wall, the others crawled through. As he stepped back and prepared to slide the wall section on its rails back into place, Magiere grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "It's time to get away from here. "
"I can't secure this from the outside. If we leave it open, the castle could be breached. If something happened, the Varanj soldiers would be blamed. "
She was about to argue, and he knew what she would say. Why should they be concerned about the Varanj? But Leesil leaned into the opening and kissed her quickly on the nose to silence her.
"I'll meet you at the inn... or beat you there. Now go. "
He shoved the stones along the rail and pulled the lock lever into place.
* * * *
For the second time that night, Magiere waited with Wynn in the room at the Acorn Oak. Dawn approached, none of them had slept, and Chap paced worriedly, glancing repeatedly at Wynn. No matter how the sage tried, she couldn't get the dog to touch the talking hide, much less answer questions concerning the woman in the corridor or this Master Ubad.
Magiere tried to remain calm, but her thoughts tangled with questions over and over. What if she delayed Leesil's search for his mother only to be led down another dead end? What if Osceline was lying? All Magiere wanted from this journey was the truth, and now that it might be within her reach, she was no longer certain she could accept it.
Wynn watched her from the bed, and Magiere read apprehension in the sage's eyes. Curious Wynn, the little scholar, also feared what they might discover next.
"No matter what happens, Magiere, " Wynn said. "You are still just you, and we are with you. "
The words were trite but welcome.
Leesil opened the door and walked in. Magiere breathed in relief.
"So you bluffed your way back out again, " she said.
"Of course. " He wasted no time packing his toolbox and blades in the chest. "I know we're all tired, but we should leave straightaway. We'll take turns at the reins while the others sleep. "
"Just like that?" Magiere asked. "We hunt down this Ubad on the word of a mysterious woman hiding in a castle prison?"
"Aren't you ready?" he returned.
"It depends on whether she was telling the truth or not, "
Wynn said. "We were looking for records of Magiere's father, and this is... a convenient coincidence. "
"Osceline told us truths and lies, I'm sure, " Leesil replied. "As to her 'master, ' her fear of him seemed real enough. He'll be dangerous if he commands that kind of submission at a distance. "
"We know Vordana was watching for me, " Magiere said. "And we know something arcane was required for my birth. If this Ubad was there, he was involved. If such as Vordana serve him, he'll be dangerous indeed. "
Magiere studied Leesil for a moment, and then dropped her gaze, no longer able to meet his eyes. The moment Osceline demanded an oath on Leesil's life, Magiere had wanted to make the woman suffer for it. Leesil obviously thought nothing of such an oath if it got Magiere what she needed. Another added leg to their journey would cause him to wait longer before seeing to his own need.
"I didn't expect to go this far... this long, " she said. "I'm so sorry. "
"Sorry?" Leesil returned. "It may have taken longer than expected, but we might be less than six days from the answers to your questions. Don't be sorry when there's nothing to be sorry for. "
Chap growled at him, but no one paid attention, least of all Magiere. There were so many thoughts whirling inside her mind that she could grasp hold of only one and cling to it.
"Wynn, see about the wagon and horses, " she said. "Take Chap. Get us something hot to eat for the road, if you can. "
"Some hot water for tea, as well, " Wynn answered, and she got up to leave, Chap ambling along behind her.
Leesil closed the chest up tight. He started to pull it toward the open door, but Magiere shut it in his way, and he stood there staring at her. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Magiere put her hands to his face, and leaned her forehead against his in silence. Why was it so hard to say a few simple words?
"What?" he whispered.
She couldn't open her eyes as she spoke. "I love you... you know that?"
Leesil remained still in her hands. She felt his fingers slide up along her temples, lacing into her hair.
"Of course, " he whispered. "I'm the one who came after you... dragon. "
"No, I have to say it, " she said, "when and while I can. And you have to remember... no matter what else there is of me to come, that's what you have to remember. "
Magiere pulled his face to hers, pressing her mouth deep against his.
* * * *
Chap watched the city walls fall behind as the wagon rolled out of Keonsk at dawn, well before anyone could discover the unconscious guards at the castle. The horses were well rested and kept a steady pace, and both Leesil and Magiere sat in front on the wagon's bench.
Wynn was already asleep under her blanket in the wagon's back, and Chap curled up against her. Even sleeping, the little sage's presence brought some comfort, thoug
h he felt uncertain what her place was in all this. It would have been far easier to keep his secrets without her constant curiosity about him. He no longer had complete faith in his own actions, but he had come to one decision of which his kin might not approve.
Although he could simply force Magiere from this path, he would not. And it was clear that he was unable to dissuade her. In spite of nightmare visions while under the undead sorcerer's spell, or perhaps because of them, he would help Magiere complete this journey.
At the very least it was the quickest way to remove her from this land and give them all a little more time before events started moving forward too quickly. And if they found Cuirin'nen'a—Leesil's mother, Nein'a as he called her— this might help to balance things as well.
The enemy was aware and watching. This was one of the few certainties left to Chap.
He would go with Magiere, face whatever came of her discoveries, and do what was possible in the aftermath. He would finish what he had started when he had connected Magiere's path to Leesil's.
Chap would have to trust Magiere, and trust Leesil... or at least trust in what he had created between them.
Chapter 13
The patron in Welstiel's dreams sensed that he had fed, knew he was stronger, and whispered to him throughout his dormant hours.
The sister of the dead will lead you.
Welstiel was roused by Chane's soft knock on the door. He awoke disoriented, as he always did when communing with the roiling serpent coils. He looked about before remembering they had procured rooms at a decent inn. His door was locked, and he climbed from the bed to let Chane in.
His companion was already dressed in a white shirt and midnight-blue tunic. His height filled the doorway. He took in Welstiel's disheveled appearance and stepped back. "Forgive me. I assumed you were up. "
"Come in, " Welstiel said. "I will scry for the dhampir. It is possible she has not given up yet, stubborn as she is, but I prefer to keep track of her presence. You will not mind a few more nights here?"
"This isn't Bela, but any city is a pleasant change nonetheless. "
Welstiel retrieved the brass dish and his knife, and sat at the table. Replenished as he was, all recent scars from cuts had faded, leaving the stub of his left little finger smooth. He cut it again and allowed a drop to strike the center of dish's dome as he chanted.
The droplet shivered. It slid and stopped a thumbnail's distance down the dome toward the east.
"No, " Welstiel whispered, staring at the tiny trail. "Why would she head farther east?"
The direction was more disturbing than the fact that Magiere had slipped away again. Welstiel knew of nothing east of Keonsk connected to her past. Only he had a history back in that accursed place.
There was no way she could have found a lead to take her there—to him—even if that withered madman was still there after so many decades.
Chane walked over. "What has happened?"
"She is going to Apudalsat, the village of Water Downs, " Welstiel said, only vaguely aware of his companion's question.
Magiere was headed into the Sclaven province. In Welstiel's youth, it was the first noble house his father had served upon arriving in this country, this continent. At the keep near Apudalsat, on the edge of the vast swamps of the Everfen, Bryen had come home one night with a withered old Suman in shimmering charcoal robes and an eyeless mask.
Magiere was headed straight for Ubad.
"What are you talking about?" Chane asked.
"Quiet and let me think, " he snapped.
Welstiel stared at the droplet's trail. How could Magiere have learned of Ubad?
Chane crouched down by his chair, following his gaze. "Should I try to slow her down again? Do you need to reach this place first?"
Welstiel pondered this. No, it would do no good to race her to this destination. Such frantic activity would only alert Ubad, and Welstiel had no intention of giving his own presence away.
"No, that will not help this time, " he answered. "Nothing will dissuade her, but we need to catch her and stay close. Magiere heads for a danger she has no way to deal with. "
He looked at Chane.
"From within the shadows, we must protect her, " Welstiel added, "as you protected your little sage. "
At this pointed mention of Wynn, Welstiel thought he saw a flicker of pain on Chane's face. If so, it quickly passed.
"Of course, " Chane answered, and headed for the door. "I will pack the horses. "
Welstiel knew his companion's prime concern was the young sage. The mere suggestion that Wynn was in peril was enough to secure Chane's compliance. But only Magiere mattered, and she was determined to seek her answers to a ruinous end. However, Welstiel knew Magiere, and Ubad did not. She was not easily manipulated. All Welstiel could do now was to be there in the shadows and shield her from Ubad as best he could.
Chane's preparations would take a short while, and Welstiel sank down on bed, his mind drifting back to a night at the keep above Chemestuk. He looked at the orb of three flittering lights upon on the desk. It had been with him from the beginning of this existence. He remembered fear from long ago... fear of his own father.
* * * *
Several nights after he'd watched his father and Ubad cut the dwarf's throat and drain his blood into the vat, Welstiel sat in his upper-floor room of the keep, trying to study.
Ubad repulsed him, but over the many years, Welstiel played the game of master and disciple with his father's lackey, increasing his skill in conjury through artificing. Spells, though versatile, were of such limited nature. Ritual, though powerful, was not as lasting as the making of an object. On his desk sat his most recent creation, a frosted glass globe resting in an iron pedestal. Within it flittered three sparks bright enough to illuminate the room in a dim glow. It required no oil or flame but instead imprisoned conjured elements of the simplest nature. Not Fay but lesser bonded elemental of Fire and Air, subdued to the command of the orb's possessor. If one Fay were the sun, these pricks of light were but winking distant stars in the night sky.
Still, he was pleased with it.
Leaning against his four-poster bed was one of his first creations, a falchion, its blade imbued with an essence deadly to the undead. Given his father's blind trust of the necromancer, Welstiel felt the need for protection. He had learned in private to depend upon himself alone.
Focusing on his notes was difficult with images of the crates' bloodied contents slipping into his thoughts. Magelia was locked in one of the smaller cellar rooms below and would have heard the struggles and wails from her chamber. Before retiring, Welstiel made certain the servants brought her water and food, but he did not stay to see her himself.
He avoided the cellar, as his father had conscripted a stone mason and three workers from a neighboring town to wall off the passage's end and the seventh room. When the workers finished, they would not return home.
A knock sounded on his door, but he did not wish to see anyone. "Who is it?"
"I need to speak with you, " came Lord Bryen Massing's voice from out in the hallway.
Welstiel reluctantly arose and opened his chamber door.
His father looked worn and wild, hair disheveled around his pale face. His white shirt was soiled and untucked, hanging loose over his breeches, and he wore no tunic or sword.
"Are you all right?" Welstiel asked, though it was now difficult to even fake concern.
His father had not come to this room since they arrived at the keep, and his presence was unsettling for some reason. Bryen stepped in, and Welstiel backed out of his way before closing the door.
Bryen approached the desk and perused its contents, though he touched none of it. He stood in silence so long that Welstiel wondered what troubled a... man... who could commit the kind of butchery done below the keep.
"It's time, my son, " Bryen said, his back still turned. 'Time for you to join me. "
"Join you? It's rather late to be going out. "
/> Welstiel saw him nod distractedly, still staring at the desk.
"Yes, late, " Bryen agreed, and reached out to brush the globe of lights with his fingertips. "Late for what should have been done long ago. But you were always so connected to the things of your world. Now, I need you to join me in mine. "
Welstiel's disquiet grew, and he stepped toward his bed.
"Do not try to draw that falchion, " his father said without turning around. "I understand why you made it, but leave it now. My gift for you makes it unnecessary. "
"I do not want your gift. " Welstiel shook his head. "I have no intention of becoming like you. "
"I... Our patron needs you. He whispers his plans, and you play such a part, my son. You are so honored. "
In less than a breath, Bryen suddenly stood between Welstiel and the bed... the falchion. His irises were clear and crystalline, and disquiet turned to fear in Welstiel. He bolted for the door. One step was all he took before a strong hand gripped the back of his neck.
Welstiel twisted and swung, and his knuckles collided with cold flesh and bone that did not flinch. "No!" he shouted, swinging again. "Father... no!"
Bryen clamped a hand around Welstiel's arm like a manacle, pinning it down. Air rushed out of Welstiel's chest as he was slammed to the floor.
He remembered yelling for the guards, clawing out for the falchion, kicking wildly to throw his father's weight off. The chamber door open again, and Master Ubad slid in to stand above him.
"Remember, Bryen, " Ubad rasped out. "Forget the old superstitions. You need only drain him so quickly that his essence is trapped as his body dies. That is all. Your close presence as he dies will pull him beyond death and—if his will and spirit are strong enough—he will rise by next nightfall. "
Lord Massing's face was savage and cruel. Welstiel saw extending fangs and thickening teeth press his father's jaws apart. They slipped from sight as Bryen leaned down and bit into Welstiel's throat. Welstiel bucked again, still trying to throw his father off.
"Don't!" was the last word he managed to speak.
"Our patron has great plans for you, " Ubad said to him. "A bride and a daughter. "