Lae spun around, and her eyes, fixed over Khatrene’s shoulder, opened so widely that white was visible all around the dark irises. She grabbed her Princess’s arms, dragging Khatrene towards her and the two nearly fell into Talis who darted around behind them with sword drawn. A moment later there were guardsmen everywhere.
Khatrene pressed her back against the rock. Her heart was thundering. ‘What was it?’ she panted.
Lae shook her head. ‘A man? A shadow? Something intent on you, Princess, and so close, if I had not turned when I did …’
‘Lae!’ There was no indulgence in her Champion’s voice now.
‘I return to my guard,’ she said and scampered away to find the hapless guardsman she had escaped from. The man who, like Pagan, would now have some explaining to do.
Khatrene tried to catch her breath. ‘Who was it?’
Talis had his back to her. ‘I saw only a shadow. A Raider, most like.’
‘What did he want?’
He turned. ‘Are you harmed, Princess?’ His dark eyes inspected her for damage.
‘No.’ She put a hand over her heart. ‘Just frightened. I’m okay.’
He turned in a circle, scanning, then glanced across the compound to where Laroque was calling out orders.
She noticed the way his fingers bit into the hilt of his sword. ‘I’ll be okay here if you want to —’
‘No.’ His eyes came back to hers and they were suddenly very dark. ‘An enemy of the throne came near enough to harm you, Princess. I will not leave you again on anyone’s request, not even your own.’
Khatrene nodded, a little in awe of his anger. ‘That’s … fine.’
They stood in silence as Laroque’s men combed the area and reported no sight of the intruder.
Talis was so worked up that even Lae kept her distance. Strangely, Khatrene felt comforted by his fury, as though it was a barrier between herself and anything bad in the world. The voice had been her only other safeguard, and it had just let her down badly.
Why didn’t you warn me there was someone behind me? she asked it.
A JOURNEY IS BORING IF YOU KNOW EVERY STEP.
If I … Khatrene was aghast. I don’t want to know every step. Just the dangerous stuff.
WOULD YOU HAVE ME TAKE THE PLACE OF YOUR CHAMPION?
Khatrene glanced at Talis standing beside her. Despite being surrounded by the guard, he had yet to sheath his sword and his eyes never stopped moving. Who would she rather have protecting her? Talis, or the voice?
No, she said, you might disappear on a whim. I don’t trust you the way I trust him.
WELL CHOSEN. NO OTHER WILL SACRIFICE AS MUCH FOR YOU.
Sacrifice. What does that mean?
Silence.
Damn.
She watched Talis, now in conversation with Laroque, and wondered what the voice had meant. Sacrifice what? A circling, sick feeling took hold of her stomach. The more they were together, the more real Talis was to her. He’d been merely ‘the Champion’ when they’d met. A cardboard cut-out of a man. Now he had mannerisms and a temper and a fiancée. She’d seen him kill and she’d also seen him smile.
The idea that he might die because of her was so unacceptable she couldn’t begin to entertain it. Instead she forced herself to concentrate on the conversation, which was curt and to the point. Believing the larger force would draw more attention and thus be more prone to attack, Talis was telling his uncle that he would take the Princess ahead alone. Laroque and his warriors could follow when the men of The Dark’s guard had come and taken Lae.
‘You will need another warrior,’ Laroque argued. ‘To share watch.’
Talis merely gazed at his uncle and the expression on his face was so implacable Khatrene felt as though she was looking at a different man. This was not the nephew who deferred to his uncle’s judgement. This man was the King’s Champion and he would not be argued with.
‘The Rite of Revival has weakened your powers,’ Laroque added, clearly worried for his nephew. ‘Should the need arise —’
‘Then I will take Pagan,’ Talis said.
Khatrene opened her mouth, shut it again. Laroque appeared happy with the addition of Pagan to their party, which presumably meant it was the safer option. For her own part, Khatrene had been looking forward to avoiding Pagan’s conversation for the rest of the journey, but that looked impossible now.
‘Cousin,’ Talis called. Pagan trotted over. ‘You will help me guard the White Princess. Prepare your pack. We leave in fifty heartbeats.’
Pagan glanced at his father, who nodded, before loping off to collect his bundle. He came back with it slung over his chest.
‘I stand ready to serve the White Princess,’ he said.
Talis nodded for him to precede them. ‘My Lady.’ Talis gestured for her to follow Pagan, then fell in behind.
She managed a hasty farewell to Laroque before she was hustled away and the party behind them was lost in the mists of Stonypike Plateau. Not even a parting word between Talis and Lae, she realised later. But Khatrene kept her comments to herself and her eyes on Pagan’s back, trying to think only of finally seeing Mihale again and not who might be preparing to jump out at any moment from the spooky stone pillars they passed. The sound of Talis’s footsteps behind her would have been reassuring, if only she could stop hanging on each one, terrified that they’d stop. What had the voice meant by ‘sacrifice’? Not his life, surely?
Her nerves were ready to snap when they finally cleared the plateau and immediately set off across Hand Steppe, a flatland covered in ankle-high stringy blades of seaweed-like fungus that clung to her boots. Thankfully it was not as prickly as the pretzel-hard snap-grass of the Elder Stand, but it was still awkward to negotiate. The mist was thinner here but the ever-present cloud cover pressed down from above, like foaming waves on a brown ocean. Of all the landscapes she’d seen so far, this was by far the weirdest, and she half expected some prehistoric sea creature to come lurching towards her out of the mist.
Still, they had yet to negotiate Rue Marsh, and from what Laroque had told her of the journey, that would be worse. Once through Rue Marsh they would begin their ascent. The Volcastle lay above the clouds and Khatrene was heartily grateful for that. She’d all but forgotten what real sunlight felt like.
Pagan continued to lead the way but now Talis walked beside her. From time to time she snatched a glance at his face, thinking to start a conversation, but each time his expression daunted her. Knowing Talis as she did now, the anger she could see in the tight set of his jaw was most likely self-directed. It simply wasn’t in his nature to blame his Princess or his betrothed for the danger their little conversation had precipitated. But it had been their fault and Khatrene was determined to apologise for her part in it. Later, when he was ready to listen.
The hours passed slowly and mostly in silence as they waded through the Steppe ‘grass’, Khatrene having to remind herself not to worry about snakes. Afternoon found them in the edges of a stunted forest with gnarled trees and ropey vines. A smell like rotting camphorwood wafted around them but Khatrene ignored it. Apparently there would be worse smells ahead.
When enough time had passed for her to hope Talis was over his anger and Pagan was safely ten paces ahead, she opened the conversation by asking, ‘So, why did you want Pagan to come? I thought you two didn’t get along.’
Talis pulled a vine out of their path and she picked her way past it, across the spongy earth.
‘He is a good fighter,’ Talis replied and she was pleased to hear him sounding calm and relaxed. ‘And he has Guardian blood in his veins. We may have n
eed of that.’
Khatrene stopped in her tracks. ‘Of blood?’
Ahead, Pagan heard her exclamation and glanced back. Talis waved him on, then lowered his voice. ‘Not blood to be let, Princess.’ Despite his previous reserve, he now smiled at the horror on her face. ‘While it is still within his body, the blood has power. Pagan cannot yet control it, but he can aid me if magic is required.’
‘Magic,’ she repeated. ‘Remind me, what sort of magic do Guardians do?’ She hoped the question wasn’t impolite.
To the contrary, Talis appeared pleased to be asked. ‘Healing, warding, the high magic that opens the way between the worlds. These are the gifts of the Guardian blood.’
‘And a good thing you’ve got them,’ she said flippantly, ‘or I’d still be dead.’
Talis tried to smile at her joke but the memory clearly worried him. ‘No other has died in passage,’ he said quietly. ‘I still do not know —’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Had he been blaming himself for that? She should have told him sooner. I died in Magoria. I … fell off a cliff.’
‘When I opened the way I sensed a great disturbance.’
But before he could probe her any further, she asked. ‘So how did you bring me back to life?’ No point admitting she’d jumped off a cliff. He might start questioning her sanity. Especially if she told him a voice in her head had driven her to it.
IF YOU TELL ANYONE OF MY PRESENCE I WILL GO.
I know, I know.
‘The Rite of Revival,’ Talis replied. ‘An incantation which directs the Guardian power to reanimate the dead.’
‘Is the revival permanent?’ she asked, suddenly realising she’d taken that for granted.
To her relief, Talis nodded.
‘Was Mihale …’ She gestured with a hand at her heart. ‘… dead?’
Talis shook his head. ‘The King was exhausted but —’
‘Alive and well.’ So he hadn’t jumped off the cliff. Why did I have to? she asked the voice.
Silence.
‘My Lady, your brother is in rude good health.’
Khatrene looked up to find him frowning at her in concern and quickly smoothed her own frown away. ‘I believe you. I was just thinking.’ She struggled back to their conversation. ‘Tell me more about Guardian power. Can you heal people with it?’
‘My Lady, yes,’ he replied, obviously forgetting his promise to avoid her title where possible.
Khatrene barely noticed. She stopped in her tracks and held out her hand. ‘Can you fix this?’ she asked. A tiny slash on her index finger was driving her crazy. She’d rather have scraped a knuckle. Papercuts were intolerable.
Talis took her hand and smiled. ‘I scarce can see it,’ he said.
‘I didn’t ask if you could see it. I asked if you could fix it.’
‘Indeed, My Lady,’ he said and even as Khatrene watched she felt a tingling warmth in her hand where he held it. Not pins and needles. More like an ant crawling beneath the skin. It was the same sensation she’d had across her shoulders before she’d jumped off the cliff, and that thought made her shudder.
As though taking this as a cue, he released her hand, and Khatrene inspected it carefully. ‘I don’t see anything,’ she said. looking at the other fingers now to be sure she hadn’t mixed up which one was cut. Then she looked back to the index finger, to where she knew the cut had been. And was no more.
She raised her head. ‘It’s gone.’
Talis, who was observing her reaction, said quietly, ‘Yet you did not believe this would happen.’
‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Can you do something else?’ she asked. ‘Something big.’
Talis grinned. ‘Shall I stab my cousin, the better to heal his wound?’
‘You’ve been thinking about that. I can tell.’
Talis shook his head, still smiling. ‘I fear I am too weak to make a good show of Guardian power for My Lady’s pleasure,’ he said. ‘As my uncle pointed out, the Rite of Revival is taxing on a Guardian. In the circumstances I would do best to husband my remaining strength. We are many days from the Volcastle and safety.’
Khatrene felt chastened. ‘I didn’t know it had weakened you. How does that happen?’
Talis gestured for them to continue and Khatrene fell into step beside him. ‘A Guardian gives a part of his own life to the one who is dead —’
She shoved a vine away from her face. ‘A part of your life?’ She was aghast, and yet selfishly grateful for what he had done. ‘How often can you do that?’
‘Once. Perhaps twice in a lifetime.’
Khatrene shook her head, didn’t know what to say.
‘In times past there were many Guardians,’ he explained. ‘Illness was unknown and death a release. Now there are only three. Myself, my cousin and my uncle.’
‘Three Guardians for the whole of Ennae? How do you decide who to help?’
‘On the King’s command, only nobles may be healed, and the Rite of Revival is for royalty and The Dark.’
She’d benefited from an elitist system. It was an ugly thought but Khatrene couldn’t deny her relief at being alive and on her way to Mihale. They walked in silence for some time while she reorganised her thoughts. Eventually, however, she had to speak up. ‘Can we stop for two minutes. I want to catch my breath.’
‘Cous,’ Talis called ahead. ‘We pause to rest. Best you search out dry kindling for our fire tonight.’
‘We’re going to sleep in this place?’ She looked around at the tangle of vines and twisting, fungus-covered trees that emerged from the rotting vegetation littering the ground. The monotony of a consistently brown landscape was exhausting.
‘Further on is a clearing, My Lady,’ he said, and Khatrene took comfort from that. At least she wouldn’t have to sleep in a tree.
She took a gulp from the flask he handed her and noticed the heavy water wasn’t making her want to gag any more. Then she said. Tell me more about your Guardian power. You can open the way between the worlds, do healing, and …’ she’d forgotten the other ability.
‘Warding, My Lady,’ he said, taking back the flask and recapping it. There are forces in our world of which a man must be wary. Certain objects. Materials. Spirits in the land that cause fear or anxiety. Madness.’
‘You can make them go away?’
I AM NOT SUCH AS THESE, the voice said.
Khatrene chose not to reply.
‘A Guardian protects from them.’ Talis said. ‘He wards them away yet he does not destroy them for they are part of Ennae.’
She remembered something then. ‘Aren’t Plainsmen part of Ennae? The woman leader said they were being killed off.’
Talis frowned. ‘The Dark has decreed this, for their disbelief in the Great Guardian upsets The Balance.’
Which only served to remind Khatrene that she knew nowhere near enough about Ennae to be making value judgements. ‘So, tell me about The Dark. Does he have magical powers too?’
‘The gift of discernment. Of reading good and evil in men’s souls.’
‘That’s all?’
Talis looked affronted. ‘My Lady, he maintains The Balance. Without The Dark there would be no Ennae.’
‘So he’s more important than Mihale?’
Affront turned to shock. ‘My Lady, no! Your brot
her is descended from the Ancients and rules by divine right. His word weighs above all others.’
Khatrene shook her head. ‘I’ll never understand this.’ She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands then dropped them. ‘All right. Tell me more about Ennae. Who else has powers?’
‘The King’s Chief Counsel is a known seer.’ Talis glanced over his shoulder at Pagan who was rustling around behind them.
‘And …?’
‘My Lady, that is all. Few with any power remain to keep Ennae from harm.’
‘I guess that makes the ones who do remain pretty darned important,’ she said, gazing at him pointedly.
Talis wiped a hand on the front of his dark, quilted jacket. He looked as though he wasn’t sure whether this was a compliment or not. ‘My Lady, pride is not encouraged in a Guardian.’
She nodded. ‘That would explain why Pagan is still an apprentice.’ This earned her a glare as Pagan strode past them with the kindling but she merely winked at Talis and fell into step beside him as they followed his grumbling cousin. ‘I don’t suppose your repertoire of Guardian magic includes love spells?’ she asked, the tattooed man never far from her mind.
Talis thought for a moment, then said, ‘I have heard of such as these. Herbal potions. Yet I do not think, Princess, that you will need magic to make a man fall in love with you.’
‘Very diplomatic,’ she said, then wondered if it was true. Lae’s words continued to swim around inside her mind, nibbling at her self-esteem. In her dreams, the tattooed man was entranced by her, but what if she found him and he wasn’t attracted to her? If Lae was any indication of what Ennaen women looked like, she was up against some stiff competition.
YOU ARE UNIQUE HERE, the voice said.
So is an albino crow. Doesn’t mean you’d marry one.
Damn, but it was hard being objective about yourself. And harder still to accept the assessment of a girl who might be jealous of her relationship with Talis. ‘Do you trust Lae?’ she asked him.
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