Evan thrust out his hand, reaching for lightning, though unsure how that demand would be answered. Something smashed down on the back of his head and he ended up sprawled on his face on the floor, stunned. Karn gestured to his men, and two of them hauled Evan to his feet.
The general looked the pair of them up and down. “Too bad,” he said. “Two mages, and we only brought one collar.” He gestured toward Destin. While two soldiers fastened a wide silver collar around Destin’s neck, the general reached into Evan’s neckline, apparently searching for an amulet. He came up with the pendant. He ripped it away, breaking the chain, and tossed it into the corner.
If this keeps happening, Evan thought, I’ll need to find a stronger chain.
The general turned back to his collared, pinioned son. “You haven’t learned a thing while you’ve been gone, have you, boy?” Karn drew back and slammed his fist, hard, into Destin’s middle, folding him in half. Evan could hear ribs cracking. Then he punched him in the face, snapping Destin’s head back.
Breaker sprang forward, moving faster than he’d ever moved before. He sank his teeth into the general’s calf and hung on.
Karn swore, trying to shake off the growling dog. Finally, he drew his belt dagger and slashed, practically decapitating the dog. Breaker managed to yelp once, then landed in a heap on the floor. The general kicked him aside with his booted foot.
“Stupid butt-fart of a dog,” Karn said. He looked at Destin, who stood, collared, arms pinned, eye purpling, blood streaming down his face. Evan knew Destin had loved that dog, knew he must be in considerable pain, but he displayed no sign of it, no hint of emotion. It was as if he’d retreated to some long-standing shell of survival, where the general couldn’t get at him.
As if seeking easier prey, the general turned to Evan. “So,” he said. “Who are you, mageling?”
Evan said nothing.
Karn drew his knife. “Speak, boy, or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
“Mother hired him to do odd jobs around the place,” Destin said, in a bored voice. “He claimed to be a handyman, but I haven’t seen any sign of it.”
“Is that so?” Karn barked a laugh. “What sort of odd jobs do you do, boy?” The way he said it, it sounded filthy.
“He spends most of his time sleeping and eating and sneaking off to town.” Destin’s face was blank, his jaw tense, his glittering eyes sending a message to Evan. Play along.
“That’s a dirty lie,” Evan said. He turned to Karn. “I’m a hard worker, sir. I do whatever needs doing—farming, kitchen work, chopping wood.”
“You are a pretty boy,” Karn said. “You’re not his little sweetheart, are you?” He nodded at Destin.
Evan adopted a puzzled expression. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
Karn waved the knife beneath his nose. “If I cut off your nose and your ears, you wouldn’t be near so pretty, would you?” He shot a look at Destin, as if to see his reaction, but Destin displayed none.
“Or maybe we could just gut-stab you and leave you to die.” Again, he shot a look at his son.
“Why don’t you just kill me and be done with it?” Destin said.
Stop baiting him, Evan thought desperately, unable to watch. It was as if he felt every blow the general landed.
“I never said anything about killing you,” Karn said to Destin. “That would be too easy. Your mother has done her best to ruin you, but I’m going to make you a man if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Maybe it will be,” Destin said. “Is that why you brought half an army? Because you were worried you couldn’t handle it on your own?” That earned him another punch to the gut.
He wants his father to kill him, Evan realized. He’d prefer that to what’s in store for him. I’ve got to figure out some way to help him. The best way to do that is to convince Karn there’s nothing between us.
“I don’t want to be killed, either,” Evan whined. “I’m more useful alive than dead.”
“Is that so?” Karn said, rubbing his chin, eyeing him speculatively. “We always need mages in the Ardenine army. If you really are a mage. Have you ever thought about a military career?”
“No, sir,” Evan said, feigning eagerness. “But I would like to learn more about magery. That’s why I took this job.”
“You seem like a likely lad. Let’s see what you’re made of. Let him loose,” he said to the soldiers pinning his arms.
They released him and stepped back.
Karn pointed at Destin. “Hit him.”
Evan, his stomach sinking into his toes, looked from Karn to Destin. “You want me to hit him?”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Karn pushed him toward Destin. “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Smash his face in.”
“General.” It was the only man there not dressed in soldier garb. “It’s already late. We’re going to have to leave soon if we’re going to catch the tide. We can’t risk spending another night here.”
“We’re nearly done here,” Karn said.
“Come on, handyman,” Destin taunted. “Give it all you’ve got.”
Evan looked into his eyes and saw the pleading there. He wants me to hit him. He’s trying to save my life.
Evan took a breath, made a fist, and aimed for Destin’s middle.
“Hit him in the face,” Karn ordered. “It doesn’t count if you don’t draw blood.”
Evan licked his lips, thinking, I can’t do this. Destin’s eyes said, Yes, you can.
Evan pulled back his fist and aimed for Destin’s already-bleeding nose. Blood is blood, he thought.
When he connected, Destin somehow wrenched free of his captors, lurched forward, wrapped his hands around Evan’s neck, and began to squeeze. As he did so, Evan felt him drop something into the neck of his shirt. It slid down his chest and landed in the waist of his breeches. It buzzed against his skin, and he knew it was Destin’s amulet.
“Stay here,” he hissed into Evan’s ear. “Don’t follow. Remember. Ruthless.”
It took three men to peel Destin off Evan.
“What was that—a last kiss?” Karn laughed. “That was quite a show. I wish we had more time.” He turned away, and his voice became hard and brisk. “Sublette and Howard. Take the handyman out in the woods and kill him. Meet us at the ship.”
Sublette and Howard looked unhappy at this assignment, but not unhappy enough to risk complaining.
“But . . . you said I had a future in the military,” Evan protested.
“You think we’d want a preening cock robin like you in the army?” Karn snorted. “You wouldn’t last a day.”
As his assigned executioners dragged him to the door, Evan caught one last glimpse of Destin. His eye was blackened, his face bloody, his nose probably broken.
But his lips were curved in a shadow of a smile.
All the way into the woods, Sublette and Howard complained about their assignment and Carthis in general. They were speaking Ardenine, so maybe they thought Evan couldn’t understand it. Or maybe they didn’t care.
“Saints and martyrs,” Howard said. “This is the only patch of green I’ve seen in this whole godforsaken country. Why anyone would come here willingly is beyond me.”
“This an’t the worst of it,” Sublette said. “There’s dragons and watergators.”
“There couldn’t be watergators,” Howard countered, “’cause there’s no water.”
“There’s a river,” Sublette pointed out.
While they were talking, Evan managed to slide Destin’s amulet out of his breeches and loop the chain around his neck. The amulet, warm and primed with flash, rested against his chest. Maybe he didn’t know any killing charms, but he’d find a way just the same.
“Let’s get this thing done,” Sublette muttered. “I’m not getting left here, that’s for sure.”
Actually, you are, Evan thought.
By now he guessed they were far enough away from the cabin that they wouldn’t be seen or heard.
“How do you know?” Evan said. “Have you ever been beheaded?”
“Stop wasting time and kneel!” Howard put his hand on Evan’s shoulder to push him down to his knees. Evan turned, pressed his finger into the soldier’s chest, and sent lightning rocketing in. Howard dropped like a rock.
“Howard?” Sublette stared at the dead man for a scant few seconds, which was all Evan needed. Reaching from behind, he pressed his fingers into Sublette’s throat and did for him, too.
Sometimes simple is best, he thought.
He wrestled Sublette out of his uniform jacket and pulled it on over his shirt. Working feverishly, he strapped on the soldier’s belt and shoved his sword back into the scabbard. The disguise wouldn’t fool anyone for long, but it might buy him a few seconds, and that might make the difference. There was nothing he could do about his hair, but it was nighttime, after all.
He sprinted back to the cottage, the unfamiliar sword banging against his hip, organizing his story as he ran.
He banged through the door, shouting, “General Karn! The handyman! He pushed Howard in the river and ran off!”
But the interior of the cottage was empty as a tomb. It appeared that Sublette and Howard were right to worry. The rest of the party had already gone.
They’d be on their way to the harbor. No doubt the wetland gunship he and Destin had seen belonged to them. Evan raced back down the path they’d traversed earlier, nearly flying head over heels twice before he discarded the sword that kept tangling in his legs. It wasn’t as if a sword would make that much difference—not in his hands, anyway. By now it was full dark, with the moon not yet risen above the Dragonbacks.
He skidded to a stop at the quayside. The jolly boats were gone from their mooring at the public dock, so he looked out over the harbor.
He was too late.
Against the western horizon, still bright from the setting sun, he saw the three-masted schooner passing between the twin pillars of the Guardians on its way to the open sea.
Desperately, he reached out with his hands and attempted to take hold of the air and pull it toward him, to create a change in the wind that might bring Destin back. But he hadn’t enough practice to gauge the scale and distance, and the ship was already within the protection of the straits. A massive wave of wind and water swept ashore, knocking him flat and drenching him. He could hear trees snapping off behind him.
Somehow, he had to let Destin know that he’d survived, that his gambit had been successful. Evan didn’t know whether that would be enough to give his friend the will to live, but it was all he had to offer.
Broadening his stance on the sand, Evan gripped Destin’s amulet with both hands and breathed in all the magic he could hold. Letting go of the amulet, he raised both hands and sent bolts of lightning arcing over the sea, colliding high over the Ardenine ship, turning midnight to noon and gilding the waves with silver and gold.
That’s a promise, Destin, Evan thought. Stay alive and we’ll see each other again.
He stood watching as Destin’s ship grew smaller and smaller until it winked out over the horizon like a dying star.
12
BLOOD MAGIC
Evan had no desire to return to the cottage and wallow in his many losses, but he knew he might find clues there that would tell him where the general might have taken Destin. They’d had one conversation about Destin’s life in the wetlands, and that had mostly focused on General Karn. Evan had sailed the waters along the wetland coast, but he’d never gone ashore, and he knew no one who lived there. He spoke Common, and Ardenine, now, passably. He had a ship, but no crew.
Still, a general shouldn’t be hard to find, once he made that crossing.
Captain Strangward always said that luck visits a man when he’s prepared a place for it. If Evan was going looking for Destin, he’d need maps and charts and books. He needed to practice magic so he’d have a chance going up against the Ardenines if it came to that.
The cottage stood rooted in its spot next to the river, but it already seemed to be fading into memory, like a place in a child’s storybook, or a dream he’d had once.
Inside, he circled around the spot where Frances had fallen, where her blood had dried on the tiles. He searched the place—it didn’t take long. His pendant lay on the floor in the corner. He slipped it into his pocket, meaning to repair the chain later. In the chest beside Frances’s bed, he found a locket with a picture of Destin on one side and that of a small family grouping on the other—her parents, brothers, and sisters, maybe. The general wasn’t there. In the strongbox under the floor, she’d stowed a small pouch of money—proceeds from sales at the market, no doubt—and a heavy gold ring with a signet in the shape of a bear.
Evan took those things as reminders and talismans, hoping to return them to Destin one day. He also took a map of the Seven Realms he found in a box of papers. Finding the loose stone at the rear of the fireplace, he withdrew the valuables he’d hidden there before Destin Karn arrived in Tarvos.
He was about to continue searching in the sleeping loft when he heard a whimper behind him. He whipped around and saw that Breaker had his eyes open and was looking at him plaintively. The dagger the general had used lay in a pool of blood next to him.
It seemed impossible that the dog could still be alive, with the wound he’d suffered. If he was, he wouldn’t be for long. Evan knelt next to him, meaning to put him out of his misery. He picked up the general’s dagger and reached for the dog’s chin, to tilt his head back. Breaker promptly bit him on the forearm, spattering blood everywhere.
“Blood and bones!” Evan swore, sitting back on his heels, pressing his arm to his side, trying to stanch the bleeding. “I’m trying to help, you ungrateful demon of a dog.”
Evan tried to remember how to treat a dog bite. Let it bleed to clean it out? It was doing that all right, soaking his white linen shirt in blood.
Evan let Breaker lie and went into the sleeping room to find Frances’s medical supplies. He sat on the bed and dug through the bag, pulling out the torn cloth she used for bandages. He used the general’s dagger to cut it into strips. The hilt and crosspiece were fancywork, which seemed odd for Karn to be carrying.
Something nudged Evan’s leg, and he practically died of fright. He looked down, and it was Breaker, standing beside the bed, head cocked, staring at him as if waiting for orders. Evan stared back, his heart accelerating into a gallop. There was no way that dog with that wound could be up and walking around.
Evan reached out his hand tentatively, then drew it back. “If you bite me again, I swear I’ll boil you in oil,” he said. This time, when he examined the dog’s wound, it was nearly closed.
As Evan probed with his fingers, Breaker reached up and licked the blood from his arm. Then he leapt onto the bed and settled in next to Evan like he was his best friend in the world. He kept twisting around, trying to get at Evan’s arm.
To tell the truth, Breaker looked better than he had in a long time. It was like he had a glow about him. A familiar glow.
A shudder ran through Evan. Now he knew what it reminded him of—the way the crew on the empress’s ship had glowed. Only Celestine’s crew looked almost . . . purplish, and Breaker had a reddish glow.
A thought kept surfacing in his mind, despite his efforts to keep it buried. Brody had said that the empress was a blood mage, that she forced people to drink her blood and they became her slaves. What did that mean? It was like Breaker had come back to life after he bit Evan on the arm. Was it possible that the dog had swallowed some blood? Was it possible that there was something about Evan’s blood that . . . had a healing quality? Or even . . . raised the dead? Or the nearly dead?
No. That was revolting. That was just . . . wrong.
Maybe it only works on the dying or newly dead, he thought. Maybe it only works on dogs. Maybe
you’ve lost your mind.
Maybe this whole thing is a nightmare, Evan thought, with a flicker of hope. Maybe I’ll wake up and have my life back. It didn’t help that he was getting a little woozy from loss of blood. He wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the bed and sleep.
No. He needed to leave this place, and soon. He didn’t want to be found here, in this blood-spattered place, with a glowing dead dog.
It took just a few minutes more to finish wrapping his arm and pack up the rest of his belongings. Breaker watched him, following him from room to room, looking alert and well and years younger. In a way, it was horrible, but in another way, it was reassuring. At least he’d managed to save somebody. When he finally walked out the door, Breaker went with him.
One day, Evan swore, he would return Destin’s dog to his rightful owner.
13
A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
It seemed that Omari Kadar, streetlord of the Tarvos waterfront, had been abandoned by the gods. First, an unusually fierce storm roared ashore at Tarvos, lashing the shoreline with wind and waves and tides higher and stronger than ever before. By the time it was over, the narrow passage between the Guardians was completely blocked with silt and sand, so that no ship could pass in or out. At great personal expense, Kadar sent a flotilla of small boats and barges out to open the passage. But right after they’d finished, another storm blew in and filled it again. Again, he cleared it, and again, it filled.
Ship’s masters began to avoid putting in at Tarvos, since they never knew when they might get out again. Kadar’s warehouses sat empty, his longshoremen idling away the time in his harborside taverns until they ran out of money. Then the taverns sat empty, too. The once-thriving harbor withered on the vine. Sailing ships peppered the bay like skeletons, their sails stowed, their masts clawing at the sky.
Maybe it was time to cut his losses. There seemed to have been a change in the weather, and the tides, and the currents that had rendered Tarvos useless as a port. Kadar could not afford to dredge the passage with every new moon. It would destroy his margin completely.
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