“I’m contemplating,” she said.
“Is that right? And what would you contemplate?”
“My freedom.”
The Architect smiled at her. “You view yourself as a prisoner when you are not.”
Lucy held up her arms, shaking the cuffs briefly. “And you claim my freedom when I have these.”
“You could master the ability to open those,” he said.
“How?”
The Architect smiled. “First you would need to embrace your gift.”
Focusing on the metal implanted in her head, Lucy could feel it. Every so often, she had a twinge of pain and there came a flash of colors, enough that she had to wonder if it was even real. It wouldn’t surprise her if it was something the Architect did, trying to force her to have a specific vision.
“It would be easier to embrace the gift if I’d had an opportunity to choose whether or not I took it,” she said.
The Architect smiled again. “Did you get to choose what abilities the Great Watcher gave to you?”
Lucy watched him for a moment before shaking her head.
“How is this so different?”
“Because this was someone else.”
“I believe your people feel that the Great Watcher is someone else.”
Lucy shifted on the bed, looking over at him. “You would really equate yourself to the Great Watcher?”
“Not yet,” he said.
“That means that you intend to.”
He shrugged. “Don’t all men aspire to more?”
“You would aspire to become like the Great Watcher?”
“One of your own has done the same, has he not?”
She didn’t think that was what Rsiran had done, but the comparison was troubling. “He’s not been trying to make himself into the Great Watcher so that he could have power.”
“Then he does it simply to harm others?”
“Rsiran doesn’t harm any others.”
“You should ask the villages he’s destroyed.”
“He wouldn’t destroy any villages.”
The Architect took a step toward her, his hands clasped in front of him. He had a warm smile on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the one part of him that remained intense. A distinct sense of power emanated from him, but he did nothing that seemed threatening to her.
It was a strange combination. Through all of that, she wanted nothing more than to disappear, to Slide away, to overcome whatever the cuffs were doing to her, but there seemed to be no way. Every time she tried, pain throbbed in her head, buried beneath her eyes, almost as if it were trying to tear out her mind.
“How often have you traveled beyond the borders of your Elaeavn?”
“Not often,” she said. Lucy knew that she shouldn’t be so forthright with the Architect, that he would likely use anything she told him against her—and people she cared about—but she felt a strange compulsion to share when she knew she should not. It was subtle, but as much as she tried to ignore it, it was there.
“If you would travel beyond the borders of your Elaeavn, you would see that Lareth has visited a great number of places. In many of them, the people bemoan his visits.”
Lucy met his eyes, staring for a moment. “Why?”
“Whereas your people exult in his return, feeling as if he were protecting you, others understand the truth about Lareth.”
“What truth?”
The Architect smiled again. “That Lareth has become so single-minded in his pursuit that he doesn’t care who or what he harms.” He took another step toward her, and Lucy tensed. “He plays at protecting his people and those he cares about, but he has destroyed a great many places, tearing through villages, ripping lives apart.”
There was a hint of sadness in the man’s voice, and Lucy’s breath caught.
Could Rsiran be doing that?
It troubled her that she would even consider the idea, and maybe it was nothing more than a marker of how tired and scared she was. But at the same time, she had seen how infrequently Rsiran would return, and when he did, he would speak of his attacks on the Forgers, each time regaling the people of the city with tales of how much he had done to protect them.
“I see that you remain uncertain.”
“I know Rsiran.”
“Do you? Can anyone really know a man who has such violence in his heart? And if they can, do they share it?”
Lucy said nothing.
The Architect smiled again. “You must think that you will escape.”
“I want to know why you’re holding me here.”
“Because you will be useful, Lucy Elvraeth.”
“I’m not going to do what you want me to do.”
“What makes you think that you have not already?”
With that, he Slid away. With her enhanced eyesight, she sighed as a faint shimmering swirl of color and light faded into nothingness. Knowing what she did about Sliding, that suggested incredible strength—and speed. Anyone else, herself included, would Slide away much more slowly, leaving more colors.
She sat alone in the room, her legs curled up to her chest, her mind racing.
She forced away the thoughts that came to her, the questions that had emerged with what he had said. Those were all part of his plan. She knew better than to allow herself to worry about whether what he’d said about Rsiran was true. It couldn’t be true. Rsiran wasn’t that person. He wanted to protect the people of Elaeavn, and the people he cared about. She had seen it, hadn’t she?
Then again, she hadn’t.
Their people were encouraged to remain within Elaeavn. Outside of the city was not considered safe, and venturing too far was discouraged. It was part of the reason she had stayed within the city as long as she had. That and the fact that her parents would have been incredibly angry were she to have risked leaving.
All these years, she had done what her parents had wanted. The only rebellion she had allowed herself was to ignore their desire for her to marry Daniel Elvraeth.
That wasn’t true. She had also gone into the forest, but that wasn’t as forbidden as leaving the city. Considering how they had wanted her to continue her studies and eventually become one of the library caretakers, they had believed that spending time outside of the city and in the heart of the forest with the others would grant her a greater understanding.
She had to find some way out.
Lucy slipped off the bed, checking the door.
Surprisingly, it was still unlocked.
Why would they continue to leave the door unlocked?
She pulled open the door, glancing along the length of the hallway. There was no sound, no movement.
She watched, hesitating, and after a moment, she slipped down the hallway, reaching the stairs at the end. As she had the last time, she waited for any sound, any motion, and when none came, she hurried down the stairs. Once there, she waited again. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, but it was the only sound she heard. She’d been cautious as she had made her way down, worried that if she made too much noise, the Architect would realize what she was doing—if he hadn’t wanted her to do it anyway.
The door to the outside was near.
Voices from behind a nearby door caught her attention, and Lucy scurried across the room, reaching the door and throwing it open, heading outside. Daylight streamed into her eyes, and she blinked at the sudden brightness, pausing a fraction of a heartbeat before hurrying onward. As her eyes adjusted, she raced up a nearby hill, noticing trees in the distance. The sound of water rushing toward her came to her ears. If she could reach that, some part of her felt, she would be free. All she had to do was reach it.
She ran.
Lucy went faster than she ever had before, her legs working wildly, her heart hammering, and as she ran, she allowed herself a moment to believe that she would make it. If she could, then she could figure out how to get these cuffs off her wrists later.
Something slammed into her, and she sprawled ou
t on the dirt. Lucy rolled to the side, looking up, and saw the Architect watching her. A dark smile spread across his face. “You continue to try to escape.”
“You didn’t lock the door.”
“Locks are unnecessary when you are willing to learn.”
“I’m not willing to learn.”
“You will be, Lucy Elvraeth.”
He grabbed her by the cuffs and Slid.
She’d expected him to bring her back to the room where she’d been trapped, but instead, she appeared in a small, low-ceilinged room with only a bed in the middle of it. He tossed her down on the bed, and she froze, too afraid to even move. The Architect grabbed something from the floor, and it took a moment for her to realize that it was a chain. He stretched it across the bed, strapping her wrist into it. He did the same with her other wrist before finally removing the cuffs. When they were gone, she attempted to Slide but found she could not.
“Why?”
“You will understand in time, Lucy Elvraeth.”
“I’m never going to understand.”
He held her gaze, and she waited for him to argue with her, to say something—anything—but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and Slid, leaving her alone in the room once again. She focused on her abilities, thinking that the removal of the cuffs would have restored them, but she found them all diminished, and growing weaker with each passing moment. Fatigue washed through her, and as she fought against the chains, pain pierced her arms.
Each time she tried to move, something within the chains dug into her even more, and she grew even more tired.
Lucy lifted her head, looking for a door, but could find none.
She was stuck, at the mercy of the Architect, and perhaps now she would never be able to escape.
19
Haern
“Galen?” Haern asked.
It was early morning, the sun creeping over the horizon and leaving streaks of color in the sky. The air was cooler here than in Elaeavn, and Haern could just make out his breath as it plumed in front of him. The city smelled different from his own, enough of a reminder that they weren’t anyplace familiar.
Why would they be attacked so soon upon arriving in Asador? Why would men like this come after them? They hadn’t even done anything.
The buildings on either side of them were two to three stories tall, tall enough that they created shadows along the streets that would have made it difficult to see were it not for his enhanced Sight. The men said nothing as they charged toward him, and Haern looked over to Galen, hoping the other man would have some advice.
He only stood there.
“Are you going to do anything?”
“There’s nothing to do,” Galen said.
The men were nearly upon them. Haern had a hard time believing there was nothing they could do. He wasn’t going to stand motionless while these men bore down on them. He pushed on the sense of lorcith in his pocket, sending the knives shooting out.
“Damn you,” Galen spat.
Galen lunged forward and crashed into two of the men. He knocked them down, letting the knives go streaking over their heads. The third man got caught by one of the blades, and it lodged in his stomach.
He collapsed, his sword clattering to the stones.
The other two men shoved Galen off and turned toward Haern.
What was Galen thinking? Why would he thwart Haern’s attack?
Could he know these men?
That didn’t seem likely. From what Galen had said, he hadn’t been active in many years. And if he had known them, they wouldn’t have come at them with swords.
That suggested they really were a threat, but why?
The men continued to make their way toward him, but they were more cautious this time. Haern held his hands up, focusing on his sense of lorcith in his pocket, ready to send knives streaking away from him if it came to that. He didn’t want to, but he might not have a choice.
“I don’t want any trouble.”
The shorter of the men, a stocky and muscular man wearing a black jacket and matching pants, sneered at him. “No trouble? You wouldn’t have attacked Jim if you didn’t want any trouble.”
“You were running at me.”
“Not running at you.”
Haern’s eyes widened. They had been after Galen?
Galen stood behind them, his hands in his pockets, doing something. Why wasn’t he helping? He was the reason these two men weren’t down, and if he wasn’t willing to fight, Haern would have to do it. It wasn’t that Haern feared a fight. Far from it. With his connection to lorcith, combat came almost easily to him.
Possibly too easily.
Haern had found it easy enough to use his knives, the connection to lorcith making them a powerful weapon in his hands. He believed that in time, he would develop the necessary control and connection to the metal.
“Listen. You don’t have to do this.”
The taller of the two men lunged.
Haern danced back, getting out of the way, but the shorter man surged toward him.
Haern started to push on the knives in his pocket, but he was thrown back, jolted against the stones, and it threw off his concentration.
The taller man loomed over him, his sword pointing down at Haern, and Haern couldn’t help but think about what they would do to him. He would die, wouldn’t he?
“You don’t have to—”
The taller of the two men fell forward, collapsing on the ground next to Haern. The other man spun, and then he fell next to Haern, neither man moving.
Haern sat up and scrambled back, worried there was still another attacker that he hadn’t seen, but Galen stood there with his hands at his side, rage burning across his face.
“What was that?” Galen asked.
“They were coming at us!” Could Galen actually be upset with him? All he had done was try to keep them from getting harmed during the attack.
“We are outside of the borders of Elaeavn. You will find that many who live outside of the city don’t care for our kind.”
“What?”
Galen snorted. “And in the years that I’ve been away, it seems as if it hasn’t changed.” He crouched down next to the taller man and retrieved the dart sticking out of his back. The shorter man had a dart in the side of his neck, and Galen plucked that free, too.
“You weren’t doing anything.”
“Wasn’t I?”
“You were just standing there. I know you’ve retired, and your time back in Elaeavn living with Cael made you stagnant, but—”
Galen grabbed him faster than Haern could react, and he stood him up, slamming him against a nearby building. Haern hung in the air. Could Galen have some enhanced strength? He shouldn’t be able to swing him around like this, but here Haern was, hovering in the air, afraid to so much as move.
“Do it.”
“Do what?” Haern asked.
“Use your connection to the metal. Let your anger overpower you.”
Haern frowned. “My anger?”
“I saw it in you when they came at us. That’s anger. Your willingness to attack in that way. I’ve seen it before. Hell, I’ve felt it before.”
Haern shook his head, and Galen gradually lowered him back to the ground. When he released Haern’s jacket, Haern took a step back, trying to compose himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I was trying to do was ensure our safety.”
“By killing?” Galen’s gaze dropped to the man Haern had connected with. He didn’t move, and blood pooled around him. “In a place like this, using knives such as these”—Galen pulled the lorcith knife out of the man’s belly before wiping it on the fallen man’s jacket—“draws attention, just as these draw attention.” He held up the darts. “I haven’t been here for years, but I doubt they’ve forgotten.”
“Do you really believe you have such a reputation?”
Galen grunted. “You know so little about the world outside of Elaeavn. You’ll see.”
Galen grabbed the feet of the fallen man and dragged him off to the side of the street.
“I wasn’t the one who killed those two.”
“Who said anything about killing them? I used a sleeper. Nothing more than that. Nothing more was necessary. You have talent like your father. I can see it with how you push out those knives. But you have to have control and restraint, too. Maybe that’s why your mother didn’t want you to come.”
“My mother wanted to come, but she couldn’t.”
“I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t eager to have you out here on this mission. Have you always been this impulsive?”
Haern stared at Galen, struggling with the way the man accused him. It was an odd conversation to be having, especially with a man who was a self-confessed assassin.
“I’m not sure I would call myself impulsive.”
“You might not, but would your family? Your friends?”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that we are outside of Elaeavn, in a place where there are others who have talents. You need to be careful you don’t make those others your enemies.”
Galen started down the street, and Haern followed, racing to keep up with him. “What other talents do people have?”
“The gifts we have from the Great Watcher aren’t the only gifts people possess. The person we’re going to look for is an example of that.”
“My mother said she is the only person my father feared.”
“If that’s true, then your father was brighter than I gave him credit for.”
“You still don’t like him?”
“It’s not a matter of liking or not.”
“But you still don’t.”
Galen looked over at him. “No. I don’t.”
“Because he tried to kill you?”
Galen grunted, turning a corner onto a wider street. There were more people here, and they fell into the crowd, moving along with it. Sunlight streamed along the horizon, the sun bright in Haern’s eyes. The sound of waves crashing along the shore was louder now. “I’ve had plenty of people try to kill me.”
“Then it’s because he tried to kill Cael?”
The Elder Stones Saga Boxset: Books 1-3 Page 23