Prophecy's Deception

by AS Hamilton

  'Come now, Colnba, the mule does not deserve such an insult.'

  Colnba chuckled briefly. 'Aye, this is true...' His good humour faded swiftly as he remembered why he was angry at Malithorn. 'He killed Randall,' he said more solemnly.

  Nisari remained silent.

  'Brenadan — tall, human, fair hair...'

  'Green eyes, yes, I know who you mean. He was a touch arrogant, but he was kind and he worked hard. He had a good soul.'

  Colnba pushed off the door and moved to the shadows by the curtained balcony. It was not unusual for the room to be left in darkness as the pair often meditated here. A bed was positioned opposite the balcony, and nearest the door, on an octagonal dais. Each post resembled a tree, the leafy canopy forming a ceiling over the bed, the 'roots' draping down the dais. 'Branches' created side tables as well as forming shelves for the bedhead and a blanket box at the bed's end. This design was echoed in the other furnishings. A set of lounges and tables sat directly in front of the balcony and a desk, chair, and two glass-fronted cabinets were positioned on the other side of the door. The rest of the room was occupied by a sunken sculpture garden.

  Colnba coaxed Nisari away from the window where she had been gazing through a small gap in the curtains. The light slanting through the gap highlighted her delicate features. The magenta highlights in her amber hair glowed as the rays of the afternoon sun caressed the long tresses and made the amber in her eyes spark like jewels.

  The sweet rose-petal mouth pouted. 'I was enjoying the view.'

  'What? And deny me the same joy?'

  She lowered her eyes and looked off to the side. 'I deserve no such slander, I am more than a view.'

  'This is, indeed, a truth, Nisari. To me, you are the world.'

  Nisari shifted out of reach, feeling melancholy. 'How did Brenadan die?' she asked. She had little doubt it would be the usual tale; Malithorn's temper and impatience.

  'Killed himself trying to assassinate Mereten's bed mistress.'

  'Mereten? Of Delnaren?' Nisari's frown said she did not quite understand.

  Colnba nodded.

  'Why did Malithorn have a human mage—' she stopped realising that this was the argument Colnba had just had with Malithorn. 'What about Liacoren? Did he check with her?'

  Snorting, Colnba shifted back. 'Think you, Malithorn would deign to ask anyone for permission to do anything? She is just as infuriated as we are. I did manage to persuade him to send for the assassin. Akileena will soon join us.'

  Nisari pulled completely away from him, turning back to the curtained balcony and pushing aside enough material to look out. 'I do not like him.' Then, after a moment, she said, 'No, that is not what I meant. I like Akileena, I always have. What I mean is that I do not like that Akileena is a mage who is capable of killing us and the only reason he does not is because we have power over him.' Nisari allowed herself to lean back on Colnba. 'I hate being so weak,' she sulked.

  'It is not weakness,' Colnba consoled. 'It is quite sensible to fear a mage who can kill with talent alone and has learned to do so from a distance without ever seeing his victim.' Then he realised the true emotion behind Nisari's mood — her defeat by Linuk.

  'You are not weak because Linuk managed to ambush you. It was a risk. Considering the rarity of the opportunity, were we in their position, we too, would have made such a move.'

  'Move! I couldn't move! I could only sit there.'

  'She stepped 'out of time' as they say.'

  Nisari huffed. 'I know that, but how? We have scoured every text we could find and not discovered the method.'

  Colnba stroked her cheek. 'I do not begrudge you the frustration, but I am not the source. Linuk has well over a century on us and is the Dai-tur matriarch…'

  Nisari nodded. 'I know, I know. Of course, she likely has access to texts and training we do not. As you said, I am quite vexed.'

  'And understandably so,' Colnba said sympathetically, as he moved over to a side table to pour her a glass of escala. He added a few drops of vilneu, a spice that dampened the sourness of acerbic juices while enhancing their natural sweetness. For the elvan it raised the heart rate slightly and created a pleasant, warm tingle in the brow and stomach. Colnba likened it to the feeling humans called 'tipsy'. Nisari could do with a little levity.

  'After all the research you have put in to advance our planes-walking skills, you are being too harsh on yourself,' he said. 'You were always your own most stringent critic. Still are.'

  He handed her the drink.

  Nisari inhaled the spicy aroma, and gave him a smile. 'Thank you.'

  'It has ever been the best way to soothe you after a disappointment.'

  'I am hardly an apprentice any longer, there are no masters to criticise my technique or capability now,' she admonished lightly. Of course, he was right, when she first started her apprenticeship, and was training on her own, there had been so many failures. Her father had always made her this drink and she would sip it while assessing her technique. Usually by the time she finished the glass, she knew the reason for her lack of success and would return to her training with the aim of eliminating the flaw.

  'What did Ko-rayen say?' she asked, preferring to change the focus of their discussion. The Ko-renti mage had stayed only long enough to weave protection wards about her so she would be safe until Linuk's trap wore off and then he had left, presumably to return to Toormeena. Nisari did not mind that, he was only supposed to be away from Toormeena for a short time, and there had been nothing he could do about her situation. She knew he had been in contact with Colnba, but not the content of their discussion.

  Tipping his head back, Colnba exhaled a long sigh. 'I may have been feeling frustrated at the time myself.'

  'He will not take it personally. He never does. I cannot decide which makes me most discomforted, Akileena's ability to take a spirit no matter where its vessel is or Ko-rayen's ruthless streak. One moment he will remark with affection about how he always enjoyed playing with the pheasants they raised when he was a child. The next he will put a bolt right through one and serve it up for supper. That day we caught Sarre — while we were waiting for the rebels to make their move and extract Riqumorgia — Ko-rayen told me how much he missed Sarre's sense of humour. Minutes later they were locked in combat, and Ko-rayen was devoid of emotion. Blank, cold. He drove his blade right through Sarre. We would never have caught him without such a move.'

  Pouring a glass of plain escala for himself, Colnba leaned against the side table. 'He also carried Sarre to a healing station and tended the wound,' he reminded his rahn. 'He is not cold, he just has the Ko-renti knack for keeping his emotion under control. A Ko-renti can expressionlessly watch their kin die, but still feel the devastation to their core.'

  'A valid point. This digression achieves little aside from confirming that our risk did not deliver the reward we hoped.'

  Returning to Nisari's side, Colnba stroked her cheek. He knew that, despite her disappointment with the outcome, his rahn felt no regret for putting Toormeena's safety first. And neither did he. Although Akileena was posted in Sal-Cirus and capable of protecting Toormeena, they could not trust the Debanikay mage with full custody of the wards used to cage Toormeena. That was why they had been left with the choice of either bringing Ko-rayen to Denas or sending Leyhera to Sal-Cirus. Colnba realised, then, that he had inadvertently done what they had been hoping to avoid. Because even though Akileena did not actually have full custody of Toormeena's wards, her protection, right now, relied more on the Debanikay mage than any others. He would also be leaving the city very soon to answer Malithorn's summons. As long as he waited for Dematica, they should be fine, but Nisari might be less than pleased with the arrangements and his decision to divert Ko-rayen from immediately returning to Sal-Cirus.

  Nisari walked over to the bed and, after placing her glass on the bedside table, curled up against the pillows. 'I gather everything is well at Sal-Cirus, then? What I mean is that after Linuk's trap wore off, F
allon-tey, simply raced off. I was worried how it would look — Ko-rayen's charger turning up at the city gates without his rider — and I tried to send to Ko-rayen, but he did not respond.'

  At Colnba's guilty expression she straightened up. 'What is it?'

  'There was a chance that after such an exertion, Linuk would be vulnerable in a second confrontation.'

  'Colnba, you just said that Abbarane is sending for Akileena, with Ko-rayen also gone that will leave Toormeena completely vulnerable. We agreed we would not risk another event like the one that left her so badly scarred...' Nisari trailed off as Colnba raised his hand.

  'You forget Linura,' Colnba pointed out. His rahn pressed her lips together in a firm line of displeasure. 'Yes, Linura is less experienced,' he conceded, 'but she can still monitor Toormeena and alert us of danger. But, more importantly, I have arranged it so that Dematica will replace Akileena during his absence. If, that is, you believe such an arrangement will be satisfactory?'

  Nisari considered him for a long moment, clearly displeased with the situation. Then, she took a deep, breath and let it out slowly as she turned her attention to the paths. She was, after all, the more skilled seer of the two of them, which was why Colnba deferred to her. After several minutes, his rahn finally dipped her head. 'I think so. The paths show me that Nathan Kennelm is not going to be in Sal-Cirus as he originally planned, and Dematica is more than capable of handling any one else.' Then, Nisari frowned in concentration. 'But neither is he in Ancoulan…'

  'Where is he, if not Ancoulan?' Colnba wanted to know.

  'He is out with one of his patrols seeking the Saviour. An unexpected turn in the paths, but at least Toormeena should be safe.'

  Colnba felt some of the tension in his muscles release. It was a relief to have one less thing to worry about. With Nathan roaming the countryside, it was not just the Toorian seer who was safer. A frown clouded the mage's expression. 'Why would Nathan do such a thing? It is unlike him to leave the comforts of the city.'

  Nisari shrugged, her pale, delicate shoulders, revealed by the style of her dress. 'Nathan Kennelm is a seer's dread, he is unpredictable and prone to sudden anger and changes in mood.'

  Accepting this statement, Colnba drained his glass and moved over to the bed. Leaning against the end post, he removed his boots. 'Thane Kennelm is every person's dread, not just seers. Toormeena represents something Nathan cannot help but hate.'

  'As we are elvan, Nathan cannot seem to do anything less than hate us all.'

  Colnba dropped onto the bed. Still using the end-post to support his back, he brought his feet up and rested his hands on his bent knees. 'Nay, Nisari. Nathan does not hate Toormeena because she is elvan. He hates her because everything about her is superior to Nathan.'

  Chapter 7

  Day 6 – Late Afternoon

  Sal-Cirus

  'I have six children, you snatch the food from their hungry mouths!' the merchant protested.

  'I, too, have six children and four grandchildren, and I must care for my elderly parents who brought me up at great sacrifice,' Sariah countered. 'With prices so high, we will be homeless! Three little babies and the rest no higher than my hip. You would see them shivering in the muddy gutters!' She shook her head decisively. 'No, I can go no higher than a quarter sovereign.'

  'A quarter! My little Giorno and Miya, both bawling for the milk you steal from their toothless mouths! A half sovereign and I will throw in these peri-peri, they good for the little ones.'

  Sariah drew her chin in and scowled at the round orange fruit the merchant gestured to. 'Only when they are fresh, these have been here a sennat.'

  'A sennat! Three days, I say!'

  'Long enough to gather a coating of dust.' Sariah held up a hand to forestall the next protest. 'I'll give you a half if you include the book and the herbs.'

  'Gracious mother, you leave me destitute! How will I explain such a transaction to my wife, the woman who tirelessly cares for her babes so I can come to market and make such a pittance for my wares!' The merchant heaved a dramatic sigh. 'I am,' he shook his head sadly, 'at the mercy of my good customers, no? A half sovereign and a quarter silver?' He gave Sariah a smile that had just enough genuine hopefulness in it that Sariah decided to let him off, the deal was fair, after all.

  She gave a short, tight nod.

  The merchant's smile broadened into a grin of triumph, and as he exchanged the sack of apples, the herbs and the book for Brynn's money, he said, 'That hawk, he's an old one, eh? I could find him a nice retirement with a noble woman if I cleaned him up.'

  Sariah could not help grinning as she replied, 'The hawk belongs to my master, honoured merchant, he is not mine to sell.'

  'Your master would thank you to make such a profit of his behalf.'

  The warrior arched her brows. 'What kind of profit?' she asked good-naturedly.

  'I give you a whole sovereign, considering his age and lack of pedigree.'

  Automatically, Sariah's hand smoothed Kaydyr's feathers, the hawk was sitting on the forearm tucked into her side. She chuckled and gave the merchant a knowing smile. 'Oh, my master knows well his pedigree and worth. He would whip me for taking a price below ten sovereigns.' She was shaking her head before the merchant could counter. 'The point is moot, honoured merchant. I am not free to sell him, only take him to an animal doctor for his annual check.'

  The merchant shrugged as if to say no one could blame him for trying. Then gave her a sage nod. 'Your master is most wise. That pedigree must have the joints checked regularly, eh. Prone to the inflammation, it is.'

  Sariah gave him a knowing smile as she turned to depart. 'You knew his worth, alright.'

  The merchant gave her another nonchalant shrug and a broad smile. 'You tell your master, I give him good deal, better than one sovereign.'

  Sariah chuckled at the man's persistence and audacity. She nodded to Brynn to indicate they were done. They walked back to the corral where they unlocked the chest they had rented with the horses' lodging.

  'Should we not be heading towards this contact of yours rather than adding to our load?' Sariah asked.

  Brynn added the herbs and book to a small waterproof satchel as he answered, 'We needed to replace our water skins.' That had been what they were doing when Brynn spotted the stall with the fruit and herbs. 'As for the rest, I would not normally bother, but the herb you helped me buy is not local and very rare, and I know Belon's stocks are low. And the apples, well,' he looked up at Kaydyr and grinned, 'it is likely the horses are going to work hard the next few days, they will earn the reward by the time they get it.'

  Brynn locked the chest and tugged the lid to ensure it was secure. He tapped Sariah on the elbow. 'Come, we will go meet my acquaintance now.'

  They had been moving towards the less crowded section of the southern quarter for half an hour. Away from the markets the city grew decidedly grimy. There was more uncollected refuse and the buildings showed signs of neglect.

  Sariah placed a hand on Brynn's upper arm. 'Kaydyr has signalled an alarm.' Her voice was low with warning. She had questioned his route several times, not in an obstinate way, the warrior's instincts were taut with foreboding.

  Brynn reassured her again. 'My contact is here. It will not be long.'

  He noted that the hawk's talons tightened as his head darted forward, having spotted another movement ahead of them. This time near the opening of an alley.

  'Indeed, I believe, we are here,' Brynn said as he moved without hesitation into the narrow alleyway.

  A rank stench rose from the end of the alley where garbage had piled up. At regular intervals sections of wall jutted out, creating dark nooks. A perfect place for a thief to hide, Brynn thought. He paused to scrutinise one of the dark corners. The shadows seemed to dissipate, as if they were created by talent rather than nature, and a tall figure in a black-hooded cloak stepped forward.

  'This is no place for the innocent to venture,' a soft male voice advised. The tone started
lightly but ended with a note of menace.

  Brynn could see golden eyes glittering in the depths of the hood. 'I am hardly innocent,' he retorted, trying to match the tone, but his amusement was too great to hide.

  The figure pulled his hood back, revealing golden skin and mahogany hair with burgundy and gold undertones. 'Good, you can come inside then.'

  The stranger seemed to barely glance at Sariah, but the warrior had the sense he had appraised her fully. In two steps, he stood next to one of the openings down into the city's sewers. The circular door set in the ground slid open at a command of will. Brynn's contact glanced up the alley and then stepped over the opening, dropping down into darkness. Brynn looked at Kaydyr. 'Do you have any problems using a ladder?'

  'No. I was brought up at the rebel base near here and I have used the sewer network and the bunkers on many occasions. I am not familiar with this particular entrance, though, so if I need help, I will ask.'

  'You go first then, I will keep watch.'

  They remained silent as they followed Brynn's contact down a series of tunnels and narrow conduits. Once they reached the underground bunker, Brynn's contact opened the door, waving them into a cylindrical room, that was dimly lit by mosses on the walls. After closing the heavy door and spinning a circular handle to seal it, a set of soft lights came on.

  Brynn's contact turned to Sariah. 'It is a great honour to meet you, daughter of Riqumorgia. I am Sarre of the House of Tiengara.' As he said it, he gave her a little bow.

  Sariah gave him an embarrassed smile. 'I almost feel ashamed that I do not find your name familiar. I am Sariah.'

  'It is far easier to achieve fame if you are a blind warrior than it is to be an archer and general drudge.'

  'I would hardly describe you so humbly,' Brynn objected. 'Sarre is of more profound skill than many,' he said to Sariah.

  'Wait a moment,' Sariah said, frowning briefly, her father had mentioned a rebel who was a superbly-skilled archer. 'Were you one of the rebels who extracted my father?'