by Sean Russell
Eldrich considered for a moment. “He aids my enemy,” he said.
“I would have you spare him,” the countess said quickly, thinking of the poor child Eldrich had so cruelly used. “Release both Erasmus and Bryce.”
“Bryce can never be free,” Eldrich said quickly.
“But he was harmed even more than Erasmus. Will you not spare both the children you have injured?”
“Do not concern yourself with Bryce,” Eldrich said firmly. “He is another matter entirely.”
“But he was a child, and the victim of terrible burning.”
“Yes, but there will be no recovery for Percy Bryce. Even I cannot grant him that. The fire reached inside and burned him hollow; the fire of bitterness and recrimination. There is nothing left now but a shell. You see how fastidious he is? He is protecting the only thing he has—a husk. No, do not meddle in the world of Percy Bryce. It will not profit you, nor will it him. Erasmus is another matter. He betrayed me in my time of need.”
“Betrayed you!” she interrupted, unable to contain herself. “You sent him down into that cavern to die! All he has done is survive—and try to escape you. You who would have murdered him! He cannot be faulted for that.”
Eldrich rocked from foot to foot. She could feel him about to explode with frustration. He was not used to negotiating to get what he wanted, perhaps had never done it in his long life. “What do I care for the justice of men,” he spat out, but caught himself, taking a long, slow breath. “I will consider what you ask. I can promise no more than that.”
“And what will you have of me in return?” the countess asked, her voice a near-whisper.
Eldrich nodded. “Your part of the bargain.”
“But you have never stated clearly what my part would be.”
“Because I cannot know what will be asked of you.” He turned to look at her. She could just make out the shape of his face, the dark shadows of his eyes.
“Walky will tutor you, guide you. Perhaps there will be no reason for you to do anything at all. But if the arts survive me—”
“But I know nothing of such matters! How can you give such a task to me?” She almost stamped her foot with frustration.
“Because there have been signs, portents. You will be the last Guardian of the Gate.”
The words had almost no meaning to her, yet she found them chilling all the same. She wanted to beat upon his chest with her fists, demand that he speak in terms she could understand.
“What does this mean? Guardian? I have no idea to what gate you refer.”
“The gate at Tremont Abbey, I believe, though perhaps it is Farrow.”
She wanted to fall down upon the deck and weep. It was like falling into a madness, her time with Eldrich. Nothing was ever clear, or predictable. No day was like any other. Cause and effect seemed to have broken their alliance.
Eldrich reached out and touched her arm, disorienting her even more. He never touched her.
“Did Samual Hayes tell you about the sculpture in the cavern? The one with the emerging face?”
“Yes,” she answered, barely able to find her breath.
He stared at her for a long, chilling moment. “It is you.”
“But how can you know?” She heard herself almost pleading.
“Because I am a mage. You will stand vigil when I am gone, until all but the last vestiges of the arts have faded from the world. There will be no ember left that any can rekindle.”
So there it was. Not unexpected, really, for he had all but said it before.
“But can you keep your part of the bargain?” he asked, stepping closer, and pitching his voice low. “Can you make the sacrifices? Sacrifices of others, if need be?”
“How can I answer when I do not understand what will be asked of me or even why this is being done?”
“But if I preserve Erasmus?”
“And what will I do in return? Murder a thousand? Send children into the conflagration? No! I need something more. If I am to pledge myself to your holy crusade, then I must know the reason. . . .”
Eldrich nodded once and turned to the rail, looking down into the sea. From within his cloak he produced a handful of shells which he tossed onto the sea, chanting words in Darian. There was a flash of silver, as porpoises broke the surface, and there, where they sounded, the water was suddenly still and gray and of infinite depth. And here something appeared, as though through mist.
The countess could see a city of ordered streets, alive beneath a warm sun. And then from a strange, high-flying bird, a seed fell, so distant it was little more than punctuation, the full stop at the end of a line.
A shattering of light staggered her. Light like the opening of the heavens, white, mysterious, infinitely powerful. And then a roiling cloud reached up, a thunderhead of dark beauty, blossoming at its height like an opening flower.
In its wake the city was gone, only a few shattered ribs of buildings sticking up as though from a mass grave.
She reeled away from the rail, from the vision in the water, the death of the city. An entire city gone in a heartbeat! Every soul in it turned to light, carried away on that terrible cloud.
“If the gates are not shut,” she heard Eldrich say. “And even then such an end might find us. Even then.”
Forty-Seven
The ship lay through the evening calm in the sound between Midsummer Isle and the Farr coast. Up on the maintop, Samual Hayes sat watching the sky fade through its paling palette toward darkness.
“First star,” Kehler said, heaving himself up onto the maintop. “Make a wish.”
“’Tis a planet, and therefore will not answer.”
“Ah, perhaps that’s why my wishes are never granted.” Kehler settled himself beside his friend. He seemed slightly recovered, slightly more than Hayes remembered, as though every mile they put between themselves and Eldrich expressed itself in healing.
Hayes waved a hand toward the mainland. “I take it this little fishing village is our destination?”
“So I understand. I heard the master saying they would anchor in the ‘roadstead’ if they ever got wind to carry them there. Anchoring in the roadstead sounds rather like running aground to me. One should leave roads to carriages and horses, I say.”
“It is a term describing an open anchorage near to the shore, and quite free of coaches and all horses but the seahorse.”
Kehler laughed. “And here we have another false Anna to meet. Another innocent woman who has been set upon and gagged and is wondering if the world has gone mad?”
“Which it has. I learned something speaking with Captain James. This ‘Anna,’ who is not using that name, was accompanied by a gentleman, and it would appear that his description could fit Erasmus.”
This silenced Kehler for a moment. “But imagine how many men would fit Erasmus’ description. ‘Tall, dark-haired man with rather forbidding deportment and acerbic wit.’ A third of Avonel, I should think.”
“Yes. That’s what I thought. We’ll see.” He pointed. “There’s a star.”
They both made a silent wish, not even needing to ask what the other hoped for.
“Kehler? Could Erasmus and Anna have survived? Is it madness even to hope?”
Kehler considered for a moment. “Brother Norbert had a vision of Pryor, though unaware of the boy’s existence.” He paused as if to weigh what he had said, wondering if it sounded utterly foolish. “We have both seen enough strange things in the last month to make me wonder if there isn’t some truth in Brother Norbert’s claims. And he has yet to see a vision of Anna, or Erasmus, for that matter.”
Hayes nodded. They were accepting such things as evidence now. But Kehler was right. They had both seen many peculiar things this past month. Flames, they had even met a mage!
“What if we do find Erasmus and Anna alive?”
“I hardly think that will matter to the mage. If Erasmus betrayed him and allied himself with Anna, Eldrich will not forgive it. What do we say to the mage? ‘Oh, we let Erasmus go. We were given no instructions pertaining to him.’ I hardly think so. This isn’t school after all. No, if we let Erasmus go, Eldrich will make us pay.”
Kehler considered a moment. “Even so, I am not willing to take Erasmus back to Eldrich, and I am as much in fear of the mage as anyone.” He looked at his friend, his manner very calm and sure. Since the escape from the cave, and even more so since the encounter with Eldrich, Kehler appeared to have aged. More gray hair could be seen among the dark, the wrinkles around his eyes grew more pronounced, and his skin seemed to have lost its glow of youth. He had begun to look like a spry old man, rather than the youth he was.
But then, how did one measure age? Hayes was sure that he had aged several years in these last weeks alone, and in the year before that he had thought his maturation vastly accelerated.
At this rate I shall be ancient at thirty, he thought.
“Why would Erasmus take up with Anna?” Kehler asked suddenly.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m sure this Anna will be no more real than the others, and this Erasmus, too, for that matter.” He paused to contemplate the question. What if this were Anna and Erasmus? Why would their friend take up with Eldrich’s enemy? “Hatred of Eldrich,” Hayes offered. “Or perhaps a chance to escape him. There was also the ritual Percy had left Erasmus. Self-immolation would drive me into Anna’s arms, I’m quite sure.”
“I dare say,” Kehler said. “Remember how they kept disappearing up the stair together when we were trapped in the chamber? Banks was getting quite jealous.”
“What do you imagine was taking place up there?”
Kehler smiled. “I suppose one last romance before starving to death is not out of the question, but somehow I doubt that was it. That was certainly not what was on my mind. But it seemed even then that Anna was trying to win him over, earn his trust. She was capable of augury, remember, and may have had some vision in which Erasmus played a part.”
“I had not thought of that.”
The ship’s bell rang the hour, and as if it were a signal, a small breeze came in from the sea and bellied the sails.
“Well, it is a breeze,” Kehler said, “though just. It will still be some time before we are at anchor.”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s likely nothing we can do until morning anyway.” Hayes looked out at the rapidly appearing stars. “If we actually find Erasmus, what will Deacon Rose do?”
“I have wondered the same thing. And there is Captain James to consider. It would be better if we found Erasmus before they did.” He looked out at the shore, not three miles distant. “A pity we can’t swim.”
* * *
* * *
The anchor was down within the hour, and the Admiralty agents were soon aboard. Hayes managed to squeeze himself into the captain’s cabin to hear what they would report.
“They went over on the ferry some days past. Any number of people saw them. A vibrant-looking young woman with red hair and the bearing of a lady, and a somewhat older gentleman,” the navy man reported. He stood abashedly before Captain James, smelling of spirits, for clearly he had been caught unawares by the ship’s arrival. “Both were well spoken. They took up residence in a house which overlooks the sound on the cliff east of the landing. With a glass, one can just make it out from this shore.”
“That’s it?” Captain James said. “We have been rushed down here for that? The woman we seek is known to be faded, tired looking. Is that not so, Deacon Rose?”
“The woman Brother Norbert met was vibrant . . . ‘vivid,’ I believe he said.”
“Yes, but was she the woman we seek?” He looked back at the Admiralty agent, who fumbled for something to say.
“Sh-she was the right age, sir, and keeping somewhat to herself. . . . It didn’t seem impossible that she had recovered from whatever had ailed her, and was looking more hale.”
Captain James shook his head in disgust, his mood quite black. Hayes could see how much he detested this duty, and could sympathize. The state of this agent of the Admiralty was also an offense to the captain, who was clearly consumed by duty.
“Was there anything else at all?” Deacon Rose asked mildly. “Did anyone overhear this couple’s conversation? Was there something that marked them as uncommon in any way?”
The man shook his head ruefully. “Not really, Father. Oh, someone said the woman had a pet bird. Not a caged bird, sir, but one that flies free. A chough or corn crow.”
Rose looked over at Captain James, and then back to the Admiralty agent. “If this turns out to be the truth, Captain James might even overlook your present state of drunkenness.”
* * *
* * *
Hayes quickly found Kehler and told him what he’d learned.
“Deacon Rose thought this pet of great significance, or so I gathered.”
Kehler nodded. “Yes, I can see why. It is probably nothing more than a woman who has rescued a young bird at some point, but one can never be sure.”
“A familiar? Is that what you think?”
“I will wager that it’s what the priest thinks. What is the plan now?”
“They will go at first light with a party of sailors. We’ll not be invited, by the way. Rose convinced Captain James that it would be unfair to ask the friends of Erasmus to arrest him, if it turns out this is Erasmus.”
Neither spoke for a moment.
“Kehler? The priest seemed to become very . . . still when he heard about this bird. As though he were hiding his excitement. Do you think it could be Erasmus and Anna?”
“I don’t know but I will say again; I’m damned if I’ll let Erasmus fall victim to Deacon Rose and the ire of Eldrich.”
Clarendon came upon them just then.
“Your manner hardly looks suspicious,” he said. “Don’t huddle so, and stop whispering. That’s better. Now tell me what this is all about?”
Dusk greeted them, prancing a little so that his nails clicked on the deck.
“This woman the Admiralty have found, she has a pet bird. Not a caged bird but a chough or a crow that flies free. And she is in company with a man who fits the description of Erasmus. Deacon Rose was quite taken with the thought that this woman might have a familiar.”
“No doubt!” Randall said, lowering his own voice. “Is it possible that Mr. Flattery is yet alive? That he did not perish?”
Hayes and Kehler shrugged.
“We don’t know, Randall, but if there is any chance that he survived the gorge, we want to warn him before he falls into the hands of Eldrich, though how we shall manage this I don’t know.”
Clarendon gestured toward the lanterns that appeared to drift slowly about the calm sea—boys out fishing.
“Rose and Captain James will not be pleased,” Kehler said.
“When did we begin answering to them?” Clarendon asked as he leaned out over the rail. “You, lad. How’s the fishing?”
“Not as bad as all that, sir. I’ve nearly hooked three.”
“Nearly hooked? That will hardly provide breakfast. Would you like to make a sovereign for your night’s work?”
“Indeed I would, sir!”
“Then keep your voice down and come over here, lad. And put that lantern out.”
The boys, for there were two of them, were quickly alongside. Taking a look around the deck and finding the watch rather uninterested, Hayes and Kehler sent Mr. Clarendon down and
then passed down Dusk, lest the beast bark and give them away. Hayes was about to slip over the side when Clarendon pushed the small boat free of the ship.
“Randall, what are you doing?”
“They will miss three of us more than one,” he hissed, and had the boys back the oars. “If Erasmus is alive, Mr. Hayes, rest assured, I shall warn him.” And with that, the boys bent to their oars, the boat carrying the small man away across the starlit waters.
Forty-Eight
They were preparing to take flight again. Anna’s plans to remain hidden on the island until the mage passed through were to be abandoned. Erasmus could not believe he had let himself hope that he would escape Eldrich. He found he had stopped packing their few belongings and was staring at the wall, seeing again the carriage racing across the night landscape, the entranced child upon the roof.
It might mean only that Eldrich sought them—that the mage believed Erasmus remained alive. But it might also mean that he journeyed toward them, led somehow by his connection with Erasmus as a child.
Erasmus buckled up the case and took it down the stairs into the entry hall, where he found Anna staring hopelessly at several cases. They had thought it wise to procure the clothing and accoutrements expected of educated people—so they would not stand out—and now they were burdened with them.
“We are all packed up, but where shall we go?” Erasmus asked, putting his case with the others.
Anna raised her hands and let them drop helplessly. “I don’t know. Farrow seems a danger if Eldrich does think you’re alive.” She shook her head, staring down rather sadly at the baggage. “Entonne, and then on to Doorn.” Suddenly she looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Unless you have thought more about what I said. Eldrich cannot harm another mage. . . .”