Chapter Fifteen
Isandra waited near the edge of Farsea as the procession approached. Jassan stood next to her, saying nothing. She still wore the clothing given to her by the Antrilii, a combination of their traditional garb, and the thick, warm cloak that they wore when trekking through the mountains. The slender sword that she wore remained strapped to her waist, a constant companion for her.
“You would be welcome to ride ahead and greet them,” Jassan said.
“I’d prefer to approach this more cautiously,” she said.
There were other Antrilii waiting with her. Some were warriors, those like Jassan and his men, who had survived not only the attack that had taken them to the south, but also fighting through the mountains as they searched for the breeding ground. Many Antrilii had been lost during the attack, and those who survived were hardened, Antrilii who had faced something few men could ever claim.
There were children here, as well. Isandra still marveled at the joyful way the children played, running through the streets of Farsea no differently than they would have in any other city. These were children who would grow up to face brutality, and they would be forced to fight, with many of them dying. Yet, at this age, they were happy and acted the way that children should act.
The women of the Antrilii had always troubled her. Some—like those of the Yahinv—served a leadership role within the Antrilii. Isandra had yet to learn what role the rest of the women of the Antrilii played. Given the regimented nature of their existence, there had to be some dedicated role for them.
In the distance, she made out the approaching caravan. Nearly a dozen in the party, half of them Magi—and she noted Alriyn sitting tall in his saddle, his weathered face surveying everything intently. Several Denraen were among them, as was a petite-looking woman Isandra had never seen.
Alriyn had made a career out of traveling. It was one of the things that made him interesting. He had willingly left Vasha when so few others had been interested in doing so. In that, he was more like the Eldest than many of the others on the Council.
Isandra had to remind herself that Alriyn was the Eldest now. With Jostephon having abandoned the Magi and having betrayed everything that their people believed in, Alriyn would have claimed the title of Eldest. It was fitting for him. Alriyn was among the greatest of the Magi, and none could deny that he had served a long time, and that he served with the best interest of the Magi in mind. But Alriyn had never wanted leadership, not the way that Jostephon had sought it. She was curious how it might have changed him.
“What is it?” Jassan asked.
Isandra motioned toward Alriyn. “The last time I saw him, I had agreed to travel north to learn what was happening in the lands where we once served as advisors.”
“Where you were injured,” he said, nodding toward her ankle.
Isandra glanced down at her ankle and had to suppress the frustration that she felt every time she did. Referring to it as an injury seemed a disservice to how she had suffered, but what else was it but an injury?
“Where I was attacked,” she clarified.
“They will have worried about you.”
She sighed. “It’s possible.”
“Do they even know that you live?”
Isandra frowned. She didn’t know what the Magi knew about her. How much had Nahrsin shared, if anything? She had been gone so long that they likely assumed she had died. A part of her had, and maybe that part was what had made her Mageborn.
“I don’t know.”
Two-dozen Antrilii rode behind the procession, and Isandra caught sight of Nahrsin among them. One of the men she had thought was Antrilii was actually Endric.
He looked no different than when she’d seen him last. The general of the Denraen did not share the same size as the Antrilii—he certainly wasn’t as large as Jassan or Nahrsin—but he carried himself with the same dangerous grace. Knowing what she did now, she suspected he would be able to face groeliin, though none of the other Denraen accompanying them would.
“There’s Endric,” she said.
Jassan glanced over and smiled. “Yes. I have some experience with Endric.”
“How many of the Antrilii know him?”
“Many of us know Endric quite well. He is well respected among the Antrilii, though he has chosen not to live as one of us.”
“But he wasn’t always well respected.”
“No. There are those who felt that his father was an oathbreaker, and by extension, Endric was an oathbreaker. He served his penance, and he returned to the Antrilii, making a choice that few ever make.”
“What choice is that?”
“You will have to ask him.”
When the procession reached them, Isandra realized that Haerlin was with them, as was her sister Karrin. She would have to go to her and meet with her, but she would rather do so outside of the prying eyes of others on the Council. The other Magi that had come were not on the Council, and Isandra was somewhat surprised that they had been selected to visit the Antrilii lands.
She was equally surprised to see Karrin. Her sister preferred the comfort of Vasha, so for her to make the journey made Isandra wonder whether Karrin had known that she was here or if she simply had come as a representative of the Council. There would be questions later.
Alriyn’s gaze swept over the surrounding crowd, and Isandra thought for a moment that she might escape without him noticing her, but Alriyn paused and turned toward her before finally climbing from the saddle.
Isandra stood in place, feeling frozen. She knew that she should not, but there was a certain reluctance, and fear, at stepping forward and revealing what she had done and what she had become.
“Isandra?” Alriyn asked.
She saw Karrin jerked her head around at the sound of her name. Her sister had been looking at the Antrilii gathered around them, and the city itself. Much as Isandra had when she first came here, she suspected the Magi would feel shock at the presence of such a developed place. The Antrilii were not the simple warriors they were made out to be.
“Alriyn,” she said with the tip of her head. “Or should I say, Eldest?”
Alriyn waved his hand dismissively. There was something about him that had changed, as well. He carried a slender staff, and she noted markings worked along the length of it. Teralin. She was certain of it.
Could Alriyn have discovered the secret of using teralin?
If any of the Magi could, it would have been he.
Suddenly, his ability to overwhelm Jostephon made more sense, though she still didn’t know how Alriyn would have managed to overcome the Eldest powered as he was by his Deshmahne abilities.
He stepped toward her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Titles are not as important as we think, are they?”
As he released her, Karrin rushed forward and embraced her sister for a long moment. Stepping back to take in Isandra’s presence, she appeared startled. After eyeing her for a moment, she lifted the edge of her sister’s cloak, revealing the sword Isandra wore. “When did you start wearing a sword?”
“When my life depended on my ability to defend myself,” she said.
Alriyn glanced back at Nahrsin, and Isandra saw that the Antrilii wore a tight smile. She thought Endric was smiling, too.
Had the general been told of what she had done? Why had Nahrsin shared that she was here with Endric and not Alriyn?
“Nahrsin brought word that Jostephon was caught,” Alriyn said.
She nodded.
“How were you able to overwhelm him?” Alriyn asked.
“You don’t think I’m capable enough to overpower the Eldest?” she asked, arching a brow at him. Even though she hadn’t been responsible for stopping Jostephon, she didn’t like Alriyn questioning her about it.
Alriyn chuckled. “I was barely able to overwhelm him, and that was after forcing my mind wider than I’d ever attempted before, tearing it open. It’s not that I doubt your abilities, it’s that I know how difficult
it was for us to stop him the first time.”
Isandra absorbed what he said, struggling through what it meant. There had been other Magi who had attempted to push their minds open, to stretch them beyond what would happen naturally, and those who had tried had been tormented by the effort. Was Alriyn telling her that he had succeeded?
“I had help,” she said.
Alriyn glanced at Jassan before turning and looking at the other Antrilii. Did he know that the Antrilii possessed power that was similar to theirs? Endric most certainly had known, which meant that he probably had shared with the other Magi who made the journey north.
“The Antrilii,” Isandra said. “And the merahl.” She shrugged. “Perhaps more the merahl than the Antrilii,” she added with a hint of a smile.
Jassan laughed. “I think the merahl can take all the credit for this. I don’t want them to be offended by me claiming a capture that they completed.”
“How?” Karrin asked. “What happened to you? You disappeared in Rondalin. You were there, and then you were not. We heard word that the Denraen sent with you all fell, but nothing more was heard about you.”
Isandra squeezed her eyes closed. She had become friends with the Denraen who had fallen. They had sacrificed themselves to protect her, to ensure that she reached Rondalin. They had known when they left what they might experience, and they had willingly laid down their lives for her.
Had she only been willing to pick up a sword before now, she might have been able to help. With her abilities, wouldn’t she have been better equipped to do even more to help in the fight? Perhaps the Deshmahne might not have surprised them. That might have been all the help they needed to be prepared for the attack and come away with their lives.
“They were lost. I was captured in Rondalin by the High Priest. And I was… injured.”
Alriyn’s eyes widened. “They stole from you?” His gaze drifted to her ankles.
They were familiar with what the Deshmahne did. Considering the attack that must’ve taken place in Vasha, she should not have been surprised, yet still was.
“How are you able to function?” Alriyn asked. “Most of the Magi who were injured as you were are not able to do anything more than sleep. They’re so weakened that they aren’t able to function.”
“For a long time, that’s all I was able to do. I barely made it to Farsea. Once I was here, they stabilized me.”
“Stabilized?” Karrin asked.
“I’m not healed, if that’s what you’re asking. They were able to stop my powers from leaking out, but that which I once possessed is not there as it should be.”
“Maybe we can help with that.” It was the slender woman she’d seen riding with the caravan. Isandra hadn’t realized she was standing behind Alriyn. She stood close to his shoulder, a comfort between them.
Isandra looked down at her. The woman was small and had dark hair with streaks of gray running through it. She carried an air of confidence about her, and with as close as she stood to Alriyn, Isandra had to wonder whether some relationship had grown between these two. Alriyn had always been a bachelor and had never shown any interest in seeking anything more, preferring solitude to companionship. Perhaps more had changed in the time that she’d been gone than she realized.
“Who are you?”
The woman smiled. “Me? Most Magi would prefer that I be nothing.”
Alriyn shook his head. “Don’t mind her. Alison is the chancellor of the university in Vasha. And she still struggles with feeling like she belongs. It’s a bit of a problem for her. We try not to make her feel too bad, but…”
Alison glared at him. Isandra couldn’t help but be amused by the relationship between them. It was clear to her that there was a relationship, though it wasn’t yet clear the extent of it. She glanced over to Karrin, catching her sister looking at the university chancellor with a measure of disgust.
Was there more that she had missed out on?
Karrin had been much like Alriyn in the way that she had never wanted any companionship. She had been content serving on the Council, having that fulfill her.
But there had been the excited way that Karrin had worked with Alriyn while planning—more like plotting—in Vasha.
“How are you able to help?” she asked the chancellor.
Alison glanced at Alriyn. “We have discovered how the Deshmahne steal their abilities.”
“I’m sure it has to do with teralin,” Isandra said.
Alison frowned. “Yes. How did you know?”
Isandra sighed and glanced over at Jassan, whose eyes tightened. “Because it seems that everything has to do with teralin. It’s good that you’ve come. We have much to discuss.”
Chapter Sixteen
Near the edge of Farsea, Isandra sat alone under the dense foliage of a massive tree. A soft breeze fluttered the upper branches, creating that rattling sound made by the strange leaves. Well, not alone. The merahl sat next to her, resting his enormous head on his paws, and watching her.
She had been waiting for Karrin to come. Her sister remained with the Magi delegation, and they were meeting with the Yahinv. Isandra had been invited, but she had chosen not to join them. There was no need for her to be there, to hear what she knew the Magi were going to tell her. The Magi wanted to take Jostephon, and she still didn’t feel they should. Taking him away—allowing him free of the neutral teralin that constrained his power—created a danger she was unwilling to risk.
She heard the sound of feet crunching through the dried grasses, and she looked over. The person approaching was the last person that she would have expected to see.
Isandra climbed to her feet. “General,” she said. “I wouldn’t have expected you to make your way out here.”
Endric might have been a handsome man in his youth, but a multitude of scars covered him and made him less so. The scars did add to an air of confidence, as if whatever he’d endured and survived must’ve been impressive. He had a ropey musculature and walked with a smooth grace that she’d never paid much attention to before. It was similar to the way Nahrsin and Jassan walked. In the time that she’d been with the Antrilii, she’d seen that grace in all they did. Every move seemed choreographed to maximize the efficiency of their efforts.
“Elder,” he said. He crouched next to the merahl and held his hand out, a soft whine coming from him that sounded very much like the merahl. The merahl sniffed his hand and batted at it with one of his enormous paws.
Endric only laughed, and then stood, turning to face her.
“You must have impressed Rebecca,” Endric said.
“Why do you say that?”
“I have known Rebecca for many years. She does not often welcome outsiders.”
“From what I hear, you are the only other outsider that has been welcomed here.”
Endric flashed a half smile. “I’m not exactly an outsider. And I’m not the only other person who has been granted access to the Yahinv, but you are right.”
He studied her for a moment, and she felt the weight of his gaze, as if he were taking stock of her. What did the general’s eyes see when he watched her in the way that he did? Did he see her lacking? Or did he judge her as less than Roelle? There was no doubt that Roelle had been favored by the general, and given all that she had achieved in the time since she left Vasha, it likely was earned.
“You did well,” Endric said after the silence had become uncomfortable.
“I did nothing. I accompanied the Antrilii.”
“You accompanied them, and you survived. You faced what few of the Antrilii have encountered and survived over the last thousand years.”
“You mean the breeding ground?”
When Endric nodded, she breathed out heavily and looked over to the merahl. He just sat there, lounging lazily beneath the tree. There was a hint of tension in the way the muscles of his back twitched, and she suspected that he would be able to lunge at any moment. The merahl had welcomed Endric, but he remained prepared for any
possibility.
“There were stories that you have encountered a breeding ground before.”
“More than stories, but yes. They are difficult to find and infrequent enough that the Antrilii have not since had an opportunity to come across them.” There seemed to be a hint of disappointment in his voice, and she wondered if Nahrsin had acted on Endric’s recommendation and had searched for the breeding grounds. “But that is not all I mean.” His gaze shifted, falling to the merahl. “You are the first person not Antrilii that a merahl has claimed.”
She looked over at the creature. “The merahl aren’t pets, General. They are powerful creatures, and they choose to hunt with the Antrilii and—”
He cut her off with a laugh. “You don’t have to convince me of their intelligence and their utility. I have known many merahl, as well.”
“Have any claimed you?”
He shook his head. “As I said, you are the first person not Antrilii claimed by the merahl.”
Isandra arched a brow at him. “The way I hear it, you are at least partly Antrilii.”
He shrugged. “My father had a better claim to it than I did. When I came to these lands the first time, they sought to make an example out of him.”
“You were called an oathbreaker,” Isandra said, remembering what Jassan had said.
“Yes. An oathbreaker for not following an oath I never made.”
“What happened?”
He squeezed his eyes closed. “Something that helped me better understand who I was. It was a long time ago.”
It might’ve been a long time ago, but Isandra sensed that the memories were still fresh. “Why have you come to me?”
“So direct. I think I might have enjoyed getting to know you better when we were in Vasha.”
Isandra looked over to the merahl. “When we were in Vasha, I never would have been all that interesting.”
“You think you’re only interesting because of what’s happened since then?”
“I have changed since leaving Vasha. That’s all that matters.”
The Last Conclave (The Lost Prophecy Book 6) Page 13