by Amy Keeley
“I’m not a sack of flour to be moved about by whoever grabs me,” she snapped, though her words were directed toward Hyaji, not Zhiv. “I choose to go with him because I’ve seen who Lord Teranasin truly is. And I trust him. For this, at least.”
Hyaji shook his head. “You aren’t thinking clearly. Neither of you.”
“Why don’t you come along?” Zhiv said, too brightly. “That way, you can argue without wasting time.” Turning back, Krysilla followed Zhiv, sliding the dagger under her sash, unsure if she were glad or unnerved when she heard Hyaji follow them.
“Still hope to convince her?” Zhiv said, grabbing a satchel that lay against the wall of the next cavern and slinging it across his chest opposite to his fiddle case.
“Of course.”
“Excellent. Nitty? The dagger?”
Nitty glared at him. “In my bag.”
Hyaji’s eyes went wide.
“I told you,” she said, her voice soft. “I can feel it.”
Zhiv stopped just as they entered the storeroom. “That’s what it is.” Turning around, Zhiv looked at each of them.
“We don’t have time for this,” Daegan said.
“Ah, yes, we do,” Zhiv replied. Walking toward Krysilla, he said, “Hyaji gave it to you, didn’t he?”
He didn’t need to say what it was. Krysilla nodded.
“And that’s how you were able to follow us. Brilliant! Was there a pull or did you set it on something and wait for it to point?”
Stunned, Hyaji didn’t say anything.
“Must have set it down. Wouldn’t want to break your oath, now would we?” Continuing on, Zhiv gestured for them to follow. “The daggers are linked. They must have been part of a set once: blood for fire, and the one the goodwife has is likely air.”
“You’re oversimplifying,” Daegan muttered.
“Nonsense,” They turned a corner and Zhiv held up his small King’s Light at the entrance of a narrow passageway. “There are many layers, but in the general sense, everything can be fit into the four domains. And if they were part of a set,” Zhiv stepped into the narrow passage, “follow me carefully, please—then chances are very good the Ornic who made them would put them in each of the domains for balance.”
“Do you really need to discuss magical theory while we’re being chased?” Nitty asked as she passed him.
“Any time is a good time to learn,” he replied. But he said no more.
Soon, they had left the entrance behind. It’s almost like walking through a portal, Krysilla thought as they moved along. Except the darkness wasn’t as deep, and there was no feeling that they were walking through an expanse. The walls were real, and bumped up against them as they moved.
Krysilla almost ran into her sister and the children before she realized they had stopped moving. Up ahead, Zhiv’s light didn’t move, and she could see from his silhouette that he was looking far down the corridor. Turning around, he looked back the way they had just come.
He said something to Daegan, then moved past him to Krysilla and the others. “There’s a hidden door not far from here,” he whispered. “We’re going to try using that instead of continuing on.”
“Zhiv.”
The sound of his personal name echoed through the corridor from far up ahead. At the sound of it, Zhiv froze. He knows that voice, Krysilla realized. She did as well, but couldn’t place it. Zhiv, from the way he lifted his head, from his wary gaze as he stared down the rest of the passage’s length, had.
“Stay here,” he said, and began to walk further ahead.
Krysilla grabbed him by the arm. He didn’t turn, but she could make out a smile on his face. “I doubt you want to come with me, goodwife. Not for this.”
“Who is it up there?”
“A Dog.”
One you know and trust, she thought. “I’m coming with you.”
A pause. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come back alive.”
“You haven’t promised that since I joined your little tribe.”
Now he did turn, and she thought, for a fleeting moment, he admired her. “I know the one who spoke. I don’t know the others who might be with him. I would prefer it if you stayed with the tribe. Please.” He hesitated, seemed about to say something, but thought better of it. “You remember the item I told you never to touch?”
“Yes.”
“If anything should happen to me, you must tell Hyaji everything you know about them. We don’t have time to be weak.” Hearing his instructions, the danger they were facing become all the more real in that moment. He took her fingers off his arm, the Light’s glow surrounding her hand, illuminating his face as he kissed her fingers, then turned away. “I’m leaving this with you, Daegan,” he said, handing him the Light. “I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”
Terror filled her. “Zhiv?”
“I’ll be along shortly, goodwife. You of all people should know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
And then he disappeared into the darkness, not even the sound of his footfalls to echo his existence. After several moments, Daegan said, “This way.”
It took more than physical strength for Krysilla to follow him.
***
Razev had few memories of his uncle’s home. His father had taken him once, when he was small and Zhiv too little to leave his mother’s side for long. But he did remember the caves, and he remembered how his uncle loved to walk in their depths, pointing out ancient pipe-like structures and corridors that were obviously man-made.
But his favorite corridor had been what he and his father called the escape hatch.
It had two corridors. One, if you followed the path directly from within the caverns, would eventually lead to a small twisting set of corridors that opened up not far above the lake’s surface. Perhaps, the elder Mikailsin had speculated, they had once cast spells on boats that would come to the door when they called (such things were commonplace with Ornic lords) and the boats would carry them across the lake, safe from their enemies. There had always been a boat near the escape hatch, and it was here that Razev and Kirag had ended up, the portal they’d entered having two locations in it: the house, and here. A bit of climbing, and they found themselves inside a corridor, listening to the sound of footsteps echoing down its length. And so he had called out, hoping that Zhiv would be willing to listen.
This corridor led to a series of what had once been storerooms, and, if you took a side door, to a strange room with three wheels, stacked on top of each other, with four spokes each. And a map. A strange map with dots that his father thought corresponded to the various locations they had hoped to build portals.
Mythical things, portals. Mythical things that shouldn’t exist outside ancient tales.
Just like the Ornic. And yet, he waited for his brother, his younger brother, with a vague sense of hope. Kirag stood behind him, willing to trust him when he had told him they would talk to the former minstrel first.
“You wanted to speak to me?” Zhiv’s voice was as he always remembered it: arrogant, teasing, and angry, all at once.
What are you doing? he wanted to say, and would if he had told Kirag who Zhiv was to him. “I have come as a representative of the late King.”
“Can’t say the current King, can you?”
Kirag shifted, and Razev said, before anything could come of Zhiv’s prodding, “Did you kill him?”
Silence. “What do you think?”
Without hesitation, he said, “No. You didn’t.”
Silence, again. “Well, that’s a pleasant surprise. Sure of it?”
“As sure as I know who I am.”
A chuckle. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”
“It’s the best I can do, minstrel.”
A pause. Kirag moved his staff into position, just in case, Razev imagined. When Zhiv spoke, he knew Zhiv had caught that small sign of distrust. “Minstrel, is it? Very well. If we’re going to be formal, I might as well inform you that we have three children i
n our group. One is a little girl who happened to come with her mother when their lives were threatened by a noble, and two are my nephews.”
Razev felt his heart clench. All that was left of his sister’s line.
“Of course,” Zhiv continued, “I suppose, since they’re related to me, that makes them less liable for mercy.”
“We are here for you,” he said, the rehearsed words meaning something entirely different than usual, “on behalf of the late King, to inquire regarding the accusations against you.”
“Burning light, why not?” he said. “Very well, Dog, I’ll play. I am not guilty. The King died from wounds sustained when the tower collapsed. I had no hand in it beyond exploding the tower myself. And that was done, for reasons the Queen already gave. And the royal family was in the process of being murdered when I arrived, by the formerly popular, now highly popular Vyomsi Teranasin, a third-rate noble and fifth-rate human.”
“If you come with us—”
“I’ll be captured by the other Dogs who are right now trying to break in through the front. Or catch us here. It’s only a matter of time before a few of them find the way you got in. It’s not completely free from observant eyes. And those who do will kill you and take me directly to Lord Teranasin, who has more than one score to settle with me. I did try to kill him, after all.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Razev murmured.
“I felt the same. And personally, I would be more than willing to do as he requests. I’ d love nothing better than be brought as close as possible to him so that I can show him exactly how I feel about his killing an innocent woman and her children. I could name them, you know. I never met them, but the King was very proud of his children.”
Razev listened carefully, both to Kirag, to make sure he wasn’t about to let anything his brother might say get to him, and to Zhiv. It had been a long time since Zhiv had sounded so very sane. It frightened him.
“The problem,” Zhiv continued, “is that I have people depending on me now. I have a friend who gave up a respectable business because I spoke too often of things from the past and future wonders. I have two boys who look to me as the only family they have left.” The words stung Razev, and yet he couldn’t deny the truth of it. “I have a former lover of Vyomsi and her daughter, and I think she might try to kill me if I put her in a position where he could snatch them back into his clutches. I even have a Disciple who thinks I’m evil incarnate and a walking temptation to others who’s willing to tolerate me for the sake of a friend, and who might prove useful to me. So, you see, I have the makings of a tribe, and one I didn’t ask for, mind you. I’d much rather they felt safe enough to go their own ways and leave me to my illegal magic and wandering. But if I do that, if I leave them, the Dogs who are loyal to Vyomsi will swallow them whole and carry them back to their master. And then I’d have to go through the bother of setting them free again.”
Razev’s eyes narrowed as he counted through the ones his brother had mentioned. It was indeed the makings of a small tribe.
Magic raced through the rock like roots from an enormous tree.
Feelers, to see who was where and how many there were. And by far more Dogs than Razev expected. At least, ten. Maybe more.
“Not much time,” Kirag said.
“You want a deal?” Zhiv said, getting to the point with a determination that made Razev wonder how much of his earlier words had been a bluff. “Take me to one of the nobles, one who isn’t in Vyomsi’s debt or trying to beg a favor from his hand. I’ll tell my story and you can judge me however you like. Let the others in my tribe go.”
“Won’t work,” Kirag said, this time loud enough for both to hear, though Razev was the one they were for. “Not if you want to keep him away from Teranasin’s Dogs. They know we’re here. No way to get the ones who’re with him out. Not safely.”
“I could help with that,” Zhiv said. The walls and floor vibrated, a loud hum echoing through the passage.
Razev didn’t hesitate. “What did you have in mind?”
***
Daegan led them through twisting passages and narrow stairs, always down, always turning. At the end of one, he handed the small Light to Nitty and crouched down. Brushing off the dust, he lifted a metal handle, set into the stone. Giving it a powerful tug, he lifted a square slab of stone from the floor.
“What’s down there?” Rysil asked.
“As your uncle would say, something you should never touch.” He lowered himself through, then dropped to the floor below. In a few moments, the room below was lit up by two King’s Lights. “One at a time,” he said. “I’ll help you down.”
Soon, all of them were in the wheel room.
Magic dotted one of the walls, like white flecks of paint thrown against a wall, then receded.
“What was that?” Nitty asked.
Daegan said, concerned, “I’m not sure.”
Zhiv would know. Krysilla hoped he came back soon.
“It’s a mirror!” cried Syril. “Like in the storybook!” He ran toward the polished metal in the corner.
“I thought they were made of crystal,” Tira said.
“No,” Rysil explained. “Magic ones are made of bronze.”
“I said don’t touch,” Daegan called out. “All you children, stand there, behind us. Nitty, Hyaji, come here.”
Krysilla folded her arms, feeling helpless as Daegan ran through what she’d learned with Zhiv. She should be the one opening the portal, not waiting for her turn to explain how to work the spell. Hyaji shook his head before Daegan had gotten much beyond the overview. “I’m forbidden by my oath from casting.”
“You want us dead?” Nitty snapped.
Krysilla heard the children murmuring in delight and realized that although they had begun to obey, no one had been watching them close enough to make sure they did. She walked forward to shoo them to the place Daegan had warned them to be when she noticed the reflection in the mirror was not of them.
Within the mirror, she could see the top of the house, and part of the cave’s entrance. And Dogs walking on the roof, conferring, aiming, casting at the rock. Now and then, the image in the mirror would shake, and she realized it was from a spell one of the Dogs had cast. They just couldn’t hear it this far down.
Cold terror began to freeze her limbs as she realized that Teranasin didn’t control one Dog or a handful. They had no idea how many he controlled. They had no idea how far his influence spread. And with that terror came an even more terrible thought: perhaps Zhiv was right. Perhaps there was no one they could trust.
“How long before they tear through it?” Rysil asked.
Krysilla took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I can’t see that.”
Behind her, the argument had begun to intensify. “How many casters do we need for this?” Nitty demanded.
“Three. And one has to be strong enough to act as a regulator for the others. That’s what we decided after the last time we worked with this.”
“And we can’t do it with only two?”
“You’ll have to,” Hyaji said. “I’m not breaking my oath for this.”
“You were more than willing to break it for my sister,” Nitty snapped.
“That’s different. I can talk to the Dogs. They’re the Ornic’s enemies, not ours.”
At the entrance, the barrage continued against the rubble. More Dogs gathered, and Krysilla got the feeling they were about to break through.
She remembered her words to Zhiv while he slept.
“Not yours, you mean,” Daegan said.
What good was magic if she couldn’t protect her family?
“If I talk to them—”
Krysilla whipped around. “I’ll do it.”
“Goodwife,” Daegan hesitated.
“Zhiv isn’t here and we don’t have any choice. Hyaji may be able to keep the children safe, but Nitty would go back to Teranasin and you, Daegan, would be tried as surely as Zhiv. Keep the children back, please, Nit
ty.” She reached out before anyone could stop her.
The moment she touched the wheel, she felt the spell whip around her arm and wrap her chest, like a desperate friend. Hurry, Zhiv, she prayed.
***
Hyaji had expected Krysilla to hesitate, to gently ask if perhaps she might be needed. She wasn’t, of course. All they had to do was talk to the Dogs. He would explain who he was, explain who sent him, and everything would be set to rights.
He hadn’t expected her to grab the wheel and begin casting.
The power of the spell that had begun made the floor shudder, a deep vibration that went far into the floor, filling the room with a hum that was louder than anything he’d heard before. “What’s that!”
“The portal!” Daegan yelled back. Nitty had gathered the children and put them where they should be. A thin line of light began to outline a door on the wall.
They don’t exist, Hyaji tried to tell himself. Not like this. Little portals like the kind the Ornic had built, he could believe those, even though they also only existed in the tales. But this was the kind that the stories claimed frightened the Ornics themselves. This was the kind of portal that, according to his grandmother, had caused the Ornics to begin the great war amongst themselves.
Daegan began to hurriedly draw spells on the top wheel which had begun to spin. Krysilla let go and the top wheel began to spin faster. Her eyes open, she stared at nothing, her expression vacant.
I should have agreed, Hyaji thought. Anything to keep her from looking as if she were dead.
Another man dropped through the hole in the ceiling behind him, and Hyaji turned, unsure if he were preparing to talk or attack. The Ornic stood, but didn’t seem to notice Hyaji was there.
“What happened!” the Ornic demanded. “We thought the Dogs had broken through!”
“They did!” Rysil and Syril yelled together, and Tira pointed at the mirror.
Now, Hyaji could see why Krysilla had acted without hesitation. The Dogs were rushing forward, at least twenty of them, all of them passing through the entrance.
Shouting curses he was sure no child should hear, the Ornic shoved Hyaji out of the way to get closer to the wheels. “Daegan?” he yelled.