by Amy Keeley
Daegan.
The cloth grew, shifted, and soon Zhiv had swirled it from off his person, wrapping it into a small bundle which he then put in his satchel. Grabbing the light, she told Zhiv about Daegan’s arrival with her sister and her niece. He barely listened as they headed back to the house.
Of course he’s distracted, she told herself. He might have lost his sister. She kept her words short and to the point. Once she finished, he nodded, and now they were nearly running down the path to the house. “I’ll go with you,” she said. “To look for Ziria.”
“No need. She’ll likely come here.”
She could have used the portal, Krysilla couldn’t help thinking. As if guessing her thoughts, Zhiv said, “She has an item I gave her some time ago. Boots.” Like his, she thought. “We made them when we were children, and I still make them for fun. Well, you know more about that truth than I need to say, don’t you?” His words were distracted, and his mind clearly somewhere other than when she’d seen the inscriptions on the soles of his boots.
The house appeared into view. “Why not the portal?”
“She never wanted to lead anyone here. This was our family’s secret. It’s greatest. And she refused to destroy that, even if it meant her life.” He looked behind at Krysilla, and she could see his teeth and eyes shining in the moonlight. “She got away, though. I saw tracks. We’ll either see her or find her soon. I mean to find her. Strength in numbers.”
She thought of the spell that still lingered in him and why he had the silences on his room and the Dogs that could sense it. “What if they can track you? Won’t it be more dangerous for her?”
“Not if I leave now.”
“And if you’re caught? What if they decide to execute you right there?”
He didn’t answer.
Up the steps and into the house they went, Zhiv never slowing. Daegan stood leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Nitty and Tira were nowhere to be seen. “Any sign of my sister?” Zhiv asked.
Startled out of deep thoughts, Daegan frowned. “None.”
Zhiv nodded and passed him, going into the sitting room.
Daegan turned toward him, but didn’t follow. “I’m fine. The journey was a bit rough, saw some people being gathered by the Disciples for confessions and who knows what else, but we managed. My charges are sleeping upstairs. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
“Their house was burned to the ground, Daegan,” Zhiv said, turning off all the lights except one in the kitchen.
“Any dead?”
“Husband. She escaped.”
“He wants to follow her,” Krysilla murmured.
Zhiv’s tone was still distracted. “I heard that.”
“And what will you do if—” Daegan began but Zhiv cut him off.
“I will go mad if I stay here.” He looked from Krysilla to Daegan and back again. “You can follow if you like, but I’m going to hunt for her.”
“Zhiv,” Krysilla took his arm, knowing he was fully aware of the risk he was about to take. He paused, hand on the door. He said nothing. “Anyone who can pull out the remnants of that spell in the blade can hide from the Dogs. Please, don’t go. Not when it’s so late.” Remembering how he’d been, nearly crazy with whatever the spell had left in him, she leaned her forehead on his arm. “Please.”
He didn’t move. His hand on the door formed into a fist, which he lightly tapped on the frame. “I’ll go mad, goodwife.”
“Forgive me, Zhiv,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “but you’ll go mad even if you leave. How will you help her then?” She closed her eyes, wishing she could hold him and he would stay, knowing he likely would not.
For a long time, he said nothing. Then, he chuckled. “How well do you know this terrain, goodwife?”
“Not well.”
“And yet, if I walk out that door, you’ll follow me, won’t you, crashing around in the dark?”
She looked up. He still looked at the door, but there was a wistful smile on his face now.
“Your sister’s dealt with worse,” Daegan said. “She had you for a brother, after all. And she’s Ziria.”
Zhiv slowly moved away from the door, watching it as if he fully expected her to come through at any moment. “I suppose.”
“I can track,” Daegan said, but Zhiv snorted.
Bringing his obvious opinion of Daegan’s skills in tracking under control, he leaned his head against the door. “Ziria might come here. The D—” and he winced. His tried to smile and Krysilla hated how it twisted on his face. “Early,” he said, so quietly that even Krysilla, standing next to him, wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Makes sense.” Louder, he said, “I suppose it would be wise to stay. For now.” Sighing deeply, he turned to Krysilla, a touch of madness in his eyes. “What story do you have for me tonight?”
***
“Careful with the wheels,” Zhiv said, hanging the Light from a small hook in the cavern.
“As if I’ve never touched them,” Daegan complained with a grunt.
“The goodwife had some trouble with them last time.”
“So you said.”
All through the night, Krysilla had drifted in and out of sleep, half expecting the Dogs to come through the door. She woke for good before the sun had come up, and found Zhiv coming back through the door. Jumping up from the chair (neither floor nor couch fit her restless mind), he waved her back down. “Just burned the portal,” he’d said. And then they’d talked.
And that talk had brought them and Daegan here to the cavern with the wheels before the sun had fully risen over the horizon.
Daegan had five separate maps, full of diagrams and notes, spread out on the floor of the chamber. But he stood next to the wheels. “Felt the whole system, huh?” he said, leaning against one of the spokes. It didn’t budge.
You’re forcing it, she wanted to say. She thought of reaching out and touching it, but Zhiv had made it very clear in their talk earlier that he didn’t want her touching anything unless absolutely necessary. Though he never said it, she was convinced now that she had done something to upset one of his plans when she came here by herself. Perhaps he was concerned the spell had turned odd, or that something was otherwise incorrect. A valid fear, given what had happened. And so, she had waited patiently to the side, watching as the two set up what she realized was a detailed study of the door and the mechanism that opened it.
And yet, the more she thought of what his plans might be, based on what he’d said about going back to Hurush for the sake of justice, the more she worried about how his plans would affect her family, and the group Zhiv had begun to form. And she thought of that peaceful morning she had watched him play while she made the boys breakfast. Tense, yet peaceful.
“Still won’t move?” Zhiv said, after Daegan pushed a few more times on the spoke.
“No. It never does.” He stepped over the diagrams, gesturing for Krysilla to come closer. “It’s probably rusted, or broken somewhere. If we could see inside, we could fix the problem. You said you were able to feel the emotions of the one who cast the spell?”
Briefly, Krysilla told him about what she’d felt from the woman, and the different spells she’d noticed. He nodded, then took a deep breath. “We want to see what we can do without you doing anything.”
“Am I just to watch, then?” She folded her arms over her chest.
Daegan hesitated. Zhiv was the one who answered. “For now. We may need you, and that’s why you’re here.”
Krysilla nodded slowly. “Very well.” She walked away.
“Then,” Daegan said as she did so, “You didn’t see anything of the inner workings?”
“The pipes, you mean? I saw a little.” But that wasn’t what pulled her in. Studying the wheels from her place, leaning against the wall, she wondered if the numbers were intentional. Three wheels. Four handles on each. The Ornic sun had three levels and four domains for each.
But perhaps the men had already
seen this. And since Krysilla had never had any encouragement in the way of clever thoughts, she stayed quiet, trusting that the men knew what they were doing.
And yet, she couldn’t help noticing how worried Zhiv looked, though he tried to hide it behind a focus on the task at hand. His smile was always brief, and his banter with Daegan, when it was there, had an edge to it that seemed contrary to his carefree nature.
Daegan put his hand on the wheel and closed his eyes. Krysilla felt the hum of magic through the floor, spreading out into the walls. There was no rhythm this time for her to fall into. All she could feel was the echo of Daegan’s exploration. He shook his head. “System’s old, Zhiv.”
“Yes.” Zhiv was looking over the diagrams they’d drawn.
“Spell’s are just as she described. Complex. Tied together. Want a look?”
“Not just yet.” But he didn’t give a reason why. And Krysilla suddenly thought it was odd that Zhiv wasn’t willing to act on his curiosity. What had he seen? It couldn’t just be what happened to her. She was just one woman. It had to be something more important, more concerning than just those incidents.
“It’s like looking over a dead lock,” Daegan muttered. “The spells are there, but there’s no life in them, no emotion, no energy, and no one’s touched them for perhaps a hundred years.”
“The energy comes from the initial spell,” Zhiv murmured. And glanced very briefly at Krysilla. So briefly, that she knew it wasn’t something he had intended on doing.
The one I fell into, she realized, beginning to understand Zhiv’s concern as well.
He went back to studying the diagrams they’d drawn.
“That’s not the only problem here,” Daegan muttered, tilting his head to one side. “The system might hold for a short while. Long enough to find out where it ends up. But there’s a real chance, Zhiv, that the spell will take over, open the door, and the whole network will collapse.”
“Then at the first sign of trouble, we shut it down.”
“Define ‘trouble’.” Daegan took his hand away, opening his eyes.
“Too much pressure. If the pipes begin to strain, we stop everything.”
Daegan nodded slowly, in a way that added more meaning to his words than the words themselves appeared to give. “Stop everything.”
Zhiv glanced up. “Of course.”
Daegan continued nodding, still staring at Zhiv.
Zhiv didn’t appear to notice as he folded the diagrams. “I’ve stopped spells before. It’s a key part of creating a magical item, and I’ve made more than one.”
“I know.” Daegan stopped nodding, though now he appeared to be the one concerned.
“Where is the portal spell, do you think?” Zhiv took off his vest and tossed it aside. Krysilla looked down. Lejer rarely was out of his vest, and it had been years since she’d seen her father when he relaxed at home, vestless. It’s just a vest, she told herself and looked up. Just because he looks more dashing without it doesn’t mean anything.
“It might be after the spell that brings the fire to the water,” Daegan said. “It might be after the water is heated and forced through the pipes. It might even be after the spell that captures the steam and puts it through the pipes with gears in them, and if that’s the case, we have to stop long before that. The spells surrounding that thing have an ominous feeling around them, and the next spell after that is the one that opens the door.”
“It must be to give them time to get through it,” Zhiv said.
“This is all assuming we can even start it without the initial spell,” Daegan said.
Without the initial spell? That was impossible from what she could tell. And yet, they were going to try to bypass it.
She thought of the concern in Zhiv’s eyes, and decided not to say anything. For now.
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Zhiv said. He touched the wheel, and began to draw the spell on it with the fingers of one hand. Daegan’s effect had been calm, almost soothing. Zhiv’s magic was like the searching light of the King’s Light, instantaneous, brilliant, and revealing. It raced through the walls, focused. Zhiv gripped the wheel. Moments passed. She watched as his shoulders bowed more and more as if under a great weight. Finally, with a gasp, he let go and stepped away. With a shake of his head, Zhiv turned round.
Daegan glanced at Krysilla, then opened his mouth and turned to Zhiv...then closed it again. “Do you want to try again?” he finally asked.
“In a moment.” And he did.
He tried once more. Again, nothing, though a sheen of sweat was on his face when he walked away.
Krysilla moved away from the wall. “Perhaps—”
“No. I just need more time, that’s all.” He didn’t look at her as he said it.
Krysilla saw her own worry in Daegan’s eyes. And yet, he didn’t say anything.
Zhiv looked up and seemed to see something in his face that Krysilla didn’t understand. “One more time,” he said, resignation and determination both in his tone, if that were possible.
Daegan nodded, and stepped back this time as Zhiv touched the wheels.
This time, it was as if the air had stilled, just as it had before the explosion in the clock tower. Krysilla held her breath, praying the results of this attempt weren’t as destructive this time. Daegan rubbed his mouth, brow furrowed. She could hear Zhiv’s labored breath in the silence of the cave. His arms shook. With a growl, he pushed himself away from the wheel.
“Nothing?” Daegan said.
“It’s a sequence,” Zhiv sat down heavily on the cave floor, resting his head on his arms. “It’s a damned, rigid sequence.”
“Give you a moment and let the goodwife try?”
Zhiv didn’t answer Daegan’s question. For a long time, he simply rested. Concerned, Krysilla walked forward. “Do you need anything?” she asked.
“For this contraption to be less mysterious,” he said. Lifting his head, he rubbed his forehead, wiping away sweat. A few tendrils of hair clung to his face, as if sculpted there, and she couldn’t help wondering things she shouldn’t wonder about before looking away. Focus, girl.
She thought about her last experience trying. “I could listen to your heartbeat,” she said softly.
“In order for that to work, you’d have to have one hand on the wheel and one on my chest.”
Blushing furiously, she said, “Your wrist by my—”
“You hadn’t gone as deep into the spell as you might this time. You’ll need a strong rhythm to remind you. The neck would be good for a pulse, but you’ll need to remember the rhythm your heart actually makes. A pulse doesn’t give you that. You might even need to have your head right up against my chest to get a good clear sound. And that can’t happen during the actual spell because that will only distract you. Goodwife,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “There are so many risks involved in your casting the initial spell, and I’ve only outlined one.”
“What are the others?”
His hands dropped between his knees. “If I have to pull you away,” he didn’t look at her as he said this, “your heart might stop again.”
“It didn’t last time.”
“But it might. And it might not start this time. Beyond that, if you push yourself, you could end up with a fever, much like the kind you’ve seen me go through. Now is not the time for you to be unable to walk.”
“And now is not the time for us to be trapped by a lake and a narrow path to the forest.” Her tone was gentle, though her words were harsh.
It took a long moment before Zhiv answered her. “It’s quite a risk, goodwife, for an uncertain reward.”
“But if we know where this door leads, then we have an escape none of the Dogs know. They’ll think we’re trapped—”
“And they just might be right,” Zhiv said, looking up at her. “It’s also possible the whole system will collapse if we try this.”
Beginning to feel helpless, she said, “Where else do you want us to go? Where
else can we go? A Dog left its mark over Ziria’s house, and we don’t know why. I know you’ll find out when you leave here, but if we can’t stand against the Dogs, then we have to run. And we can’t run—”
“I know, goodwife,” he said. Rubbing his forehead, eyes shut tight, he said, “I know. Sit by the wheel.”
Feeling more nervous than she had the first two times, she did as he said. He knelt down by her side, staring at the wheels. “There’s more to this than simply letting the spell take you over.”
“Obviously.”
“Don’t get cheeky.” And yet, his eyes sparkled when he looked at her. “Have you ever walked backward through a spell?”
She shrugged. “The locks when I was young. I didn’t have a book for those.”
“House and farm locks, correct?” Daegan said. She nodded. “Pfft. Those are nothing.”
Her cheeks burned from his assessment. “But I have done it.”
“So,” Zhiv said, “you understand how to reach in and watch the way the spell is drawn?”
She nodded, feeling very nervous. This was Ornic magic, built by Ornic lords. And yet, if it meant keeping them safe, she’d gladly fall into the spell again.
Be honest, part of her whispered, you enjoy it. Pushing it aside, she waited until Zhiv said, “Very well. Best keep your head off my chest until you’ve begun casting, then give me a sign and I’ll put it there so you’ll remember.”
“Assuming the other spells can shut down before then,” Daegan murmured.
Blushing more furiously than she ever had, Krysilla reached out and touched the wheel.
Instantly, the emotions flooded her. Hurry. Not much time. Got the last bit in place? Yes? And then the emotions brushed past, like a breeze that’s already lifted your hair moves on. And in the silence it left behind, she could hear the rhythm that bound all the other spells.