Perhaps what he liked best about her was that she never judged him. Aric knew he was a highwayman—he couldn’t have denied that if he wanted to—but that didn’t keep her from talking to him. He longed to tell her the truth about himself—the full truth—even though Aric was far too polite to press him about his past. On the contrary, she was content to engage him in conversations about less weighty things, like joking about how bravely he had stopped the goblin’s arrow with his abdomen.
But he didn’t think that she would laugh if he told her he was no more a wizard than Toemis or the Renegade Leader was.
What difference does it make whether she believes I’m a spell-caster or knows the truth of my failed ambitions? he wondered woefully. She’ll never feel for me what I feel for her.
Imprisoned as much by his injuries as his past crimes, Ruben had a lot of time to think—too much time. His emotions had more ups and downs than a gnomish kite. Passion and depression waged a war for dominance within his soul. And lurking beneath his affection for Aric—and disdain for himself—was the constant worry about what the Knights would do with him when he was well enough to leave the infirmary.
He had heard that Fort Faith had a dungeon…
After spending a week in bed, Ruben had jumped at the chance to find Toemis’s granddaughter, though he knew next to nothing about the old man. He had volunteered for this noble quest to impress his ladylove. What wouldn’t he have done for Aric’s sake?
But now that every slow step was causing slivers of pain to shoot through his stomach—and he hadn’t even traversed the first corridor!—he prayed he would find someone else to take over the mission.
To his astonishment—and private consternation—there seemed to be no Knights positioned anywhere near the infirmary. When he came upon an intersection and saw the retreating form of someone in the distance, a surge of elation shot through him.
“Hey, you!” Even though his voice was weak, the words resounded down the hollow, stony corridor.
The man at the far end of the hall turned around but made no reply. Neither did he move in one direction or the other.
“Please,” Ruben persisted. “I need your help.”
The person just stared back at him. Ruben squinted, trying to identify the man, but he was too far away to determine much of anything about the stranger. Unlike most of the fort’s residents, the man didn’t seem to be wearing armor of any kind. In truth, he looked a bit short for a Knight.
“What, are you deaf?” With a silent curse, Ruben continued inching down the hallway.
Then, from the other end of the hall, he heard someone say, “What’s taking you so long, Arthur? If we don’t hurry, the Knights will scarf down all the good food before we get there.”
Ruben watched as a second man appeared from around a corner. The newcomer—who looked to be wearing a black hood—saw Ruben at the same time Ruben saw him.
“Hey!” Ruben shouted.
“What?” asked the man in the hood.
“I need…I need your help.”
The hooded man ran toward him, but the first man remained rooted in place.
“Wow,” hooded man said, “you don’t look so good. Hey, aren’t you that wizard fellow that arrived with Mitto, Stannel, and that woman?”
“Aric,” Ruben corrected crossly. “Sister Aric.”
The man frowned. “I thought you caught an arrow in the gut. Do you really think you ought to be walking around by yourself? You’re not trying to escape, are you? Because if you are, you’re wasting your time. I’ve been exploring this fort for the past couple weeks, and the Knights seem to have thought of everything.”
“I’m not trying to escape!” Ruben exploded. “I’m looking for the little girl and the midge.”
That statement seemed to take the man by surprise. His brow crinkling in confusion, he asked, “You’re looking for Noel? Are you two going to trade spells or something?”
“No,” Ruben replied, forcing himself to take deep breaths. “The midge is keeping an eye on the girl. Her grandfather just woke up, and he’s asking for her. I was sent to find her, but…”
“But you’re in no condition to do much of anything. All right. Let’s think. It’s suppertime, so they’re both probably in the dining hall. The Knights aren’t crazy about sharing a table with a midge, but none of them have the stones to tell him to leave.”
“Can you go fetch the girl and bring her to the infirmary?” Ruben asked, all but begging.
The man in the hood straightened up. “Of course I can. What else do I have to do? Hey, Arthur! Come here!”
The man at the end of the hallway didn’t budge.
“He’s not going to bite you!” The hooded man turned to Ruben and said, “Tell him you’re not going to hurt him. He had a bad experience with a wizard recently…”
The thought that someone could be so intimidated by him might have been hilarious in other circumstances. He was on the verge of calling out to the other man when the man in question started walking toward them on his own.
In a sidelong whisper, the hooded man added, “Arthur hasn’t been himself lately, so don’t be offended if he acts rude.”
As Arthur drew nearer, Ruben saw he was only just barely a man, though there was a hardness in the youth’s eyes that hinted at a different kind of maturity.
Arthur didn’t look intimidated; he looked annoyed.
“I’ve got to go find Noel. He and that little girl are needed in the infirmary,” the hooded man told Arthur. “Would you help…um…what’s your name?”
“Ruben.”
“Would you help Ruben back to his bed?” The man didn’t wait for a reply before sprinting away. Over his shoulder he called, “Don’t worry, Ruben. I’ll find them!”
Arthur stared after his companion, his mouth opened in silent protest. He managed to say, “Scout!” but by then the hooded man was out of sight.
For a long moment, the boy looked off in the direction in which the man—Scout?—had fled. Ruben was beginning to think the boy was a bit slow in the head, but when Arthur turned to regard him, he saw no signs of dullness—only irritation.
“Um, hello,” Ruben said.
At first Arthur only stared at him some more. It was a most unnerving experience for Ruben, who went to great lengths to avoid others’ notice—except when performing a part for his fellow thieves. He wished he did know magic so that he might take a peek at the boy’s thoughts.
Ruben was about to start back to the infirmary on his own, when Arthur finally spoke.
“Which way is it?”
Ruben gave a brief description of the way back to the sickroom. Arthur listened, eyeing him warily all the while. When he finished giving the directions, the boy grabbed his arm—causing Ruben flinch involuntarily—and draped it over his shoulder. Flushing profusely, Ruben averted his eyes and allowed Arthur to half-guide, half-carry him back to the infirmary.
They made the trip in uncomfortable silence. When they finally reached the infirmary door, Ruben extricated himself from the boy, muttering his thanks. Arthur didn’t reply. He simply turned around and headed back down the hall.
Before reentering the infirmary, Ruben cast a final look back at Arthur. He knew acting when he saw it and couldn’t help but feel Arthur had been putting on show for him—and perhaps for everyone else. People wear different faces and adopt new guises to hide their true selves…and their pain, he thought.
He wondered what demons Arthur was wrestling with.
* * *
Lilac watched the large blackbird until it was lost from sight. When she turned her attention back to the discarded crystal sword, Opal was reaching down to pick it up.
She reacted instantly, yanking Opal away from it. Caught by surprise, Opal didn’t resist at first, but when she realized what was going on—and who was holding her back—she fought back. A well-placed elbow to the ribs sent Lilac staggering back a step.
“What in the hells do you think you’re doing?” O
pal demanded, leveling her crossbow at her.
“I’m saving you from a nasty burn,” Lilac said, “though maybe I shouldn’t have bothered.”
“What are you talking about?”
Lilac saw Othello out of the corner of her eye, but the archer didn’t seem to be in any hurry to help her. “During the battle in Fort Faith’s western wing, before the goblin shaman was revealed, Klye disarmed Colt, but when he reached for the crystal sword, it burned his hand. The wound still hasn’t healed completely.”
Opal’s expression didn’t soften in the least as she considered Lilac’s words.
“The crystal sword is a magical weapon,” Lilac added. “We don’t know all that it’s capable of, and you’ll be doing no one any good, save the goblins, if you scorch your fingers like Klye did.”
Staring at the razor-sharp tip of the quarrel, Lilac wondered if Opal was capable of killing her in cold blood. She couldn’t quite withhold a sigh when the crossbow finally returned to its place at Opal’s side.
“Colt told me about his fight with Klye in the war room,” Opal said. “In case you forgot, I wasn’t there for that part. A certain Renegade Leader had granted me an unexpected introduction to his fist.”
Lilac remembered—and clearly Opal would never forget it.
Opal turned her back to Lilac and crouched once more beside Colt’s sword, though she didn’t touch it. Lilac was no stranger to magical weapons. Like Chrysaal-rûn, her vorpal sword possessed an impossibly fine edge.
But aside from its antiquated design, the vorpal sword looked no different from an ordinary sword. Chrysaal-rûn’s appearance, however, hinted at a great magic. Lilac had seen firsthand the damage it could inflict. And the slew of goblin corpses around them was a testament to the weapon’s raw power.
Who could say what else the crystal sword could do?
“Something terrible happened here,” Opal stated. “Colt would never have willingly left Chrysaal-rûn behind. Either he was taken captive…”
“Or he’s dead,” Lilac finished.
Opal’s glare might have made her regret her blunt words, but Lilac didn’t want Opal to have any illusions about what had probably occurred in the clearing.
Opal stood upright once more. “I don’t see a body here, do you?”
“I see plenty of bodies,” Lilac replied, throwing her hands wide to indicate all of the fallen goblins around them. “Someone had to have killed them. We know by the presence of the crystal sword that Colt was here, but if he was victorious, why did he abandon his sword?”
“I don’t know!” Opal snapped. “Maybe more goblins were on the way, and he dropped it and couldn’t retrieve it.”
“You yourself said that he’d never willingly leave it behind,” Lilac pointed out.
Opal’s glare intensified. “Fine. Then the goblins must have captured him, and I, for one, am going to rescue him.”
Opal stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, as though daring Lilac to argue further.
But Lilac wasn’t about to back down. “This is madness! There’s no proof Colt is still alive.”
“There’s no proof he’s dead either!” Opal countered.
“Maybe he’s somewhere under that pile of goblins there.”
“You shut your mouth, Renegade!”
An invigorating warmth spread through Lilac’s body, and she found her hand clutching the vorpal sword’s hilt. She had always thought of herself as an even-tempered woman, but there was something about Opal that drained her patience faster than a drunkard with his ale.
“Colt didn’t do this alone.”
Othello’s calm words diffused the tension immediately, and the women regarded the forester expectantly. Othello pointed down at the deep laceration that stretched across one goblin’s chest, a wound that was visible even from a distance.
“The crystal sword did this, but…” Two great strides took Othello over to the next corpse. “…it did not do this.”
The two women approached the goblin in question. The first thing Lilac noticed was that the creature’s head was nearly severed from its body. She conceded Othello’s point. Like the vorpal sword, Chrysaal-rûn cut cleanly. The goblin that lay before them looked as though someone had used a conventional weapon coupled with an incredible amount of strength.
It didn’t take long for Lilac to realize who that someone must have been.
“Cholk,” Opal murmured, echoing her thoughts.
“They were both here,” Lilac agreed. “Might they have escaped?”
She looked to Othello for an answer, but he was already walking away again.
“I’m going to find out,” Opal said.
“You can’t be serious.”
Opal was quick to cut her off, but rather than shout her words—as Lilac would have expected—Opal spoke them quietly, which she found even more unnerving. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
“What about the mission?”
Opal shrugged. “I’m not going back to the fort without Colt and Cholk.”
“Then you’re a damn fool!” Lilac shouted.
“Call me what you will.” Opal started back over to the crystal sword. “But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t learn what happened to my friends. One way or another, I’m going to find out. Complete the mission if you want. Maybe Stannel will even give you a full pardon for your efforts.”
The words were like a slap in the face. “I’m not doing this for a pardon. I’m doing this because all of Capricon is depending on the Knights to protect them from the goblins, and right now the Knights are depending on us. You’re being unreasonable, Opal.”
Opal shrugged again. “Maybe. But I don’t care. I’d rather be an unreasonable fool than a heartless bitch. If you could leave your friends to the goblins, you’re no better than the monsters.”
Lilac bit back a retort. No good would come of name calling. Seething inside, Lilac glared at Opal’s back, cursing her for the insufferable fool she was. It would serve you right if I just let you tromp off after the goblins.
But Lilac’s anger could not hold out long against Opal’s accusation. What if Klye and Horcalus were missing instead of Colt and Cholk? Would she be so heart-set on returning to the fort if her dearest friends were in danger?
After the slightest moment of hesitation, Opal bent to pick up Chrysaal-rûn. Lilac expected the woman to cry out and drop it, but no harm came to her. Flashing a smug smile, Opal walked past Lilac and said, “Colt will want this once I find him.”
Opal then made her way to Othello, who was still examining the forest floor, and said, “I have some experience in tracking, but I know you’re better. Would you help me look for my friends?”
The earnest question took Lilac by surprise, and her astonishment only grew when Othello replied, “Yes.”
Anger well up inside her again. Othello hadn’t even glanced her way before throwing in with Opal! It wasn’t jealousy; it was about loyalty. And too many times had she seen the charms of a beautiful woman compromise even the most intelligent of men. Maybe there was something more to the two of them than she had realized…
It would serve them right if I let them wander off together, Lilac thought. How long do they think two archers will last in hand-to-hand combat?
She considered completing the mission on her own. As long as she kept heading west, she would find the Rocky Crags eventually, and then all she would have to do is follow the mountains back to the fort. She thought she could manage it too. After all, she found Klye’s Renegades all on her own.
Lilac contemplated this course for a second or two. Then she trudged after her companions, cursing herself for getting pulled into Opal’s foolhardy plan. From somewhere far off, she thought she heard the mocking call of a crow.
Passage VI
Even before she had gotten caught up in the Renegade War, Lilac had spent most of her time traveling.
Between the errands she had run for her father, Baron Paris Zephyr, and trip
s she had taken for pleasure, she had explored one end of Superius to the other and visited a few of the other kingdoms of Continae.
Back then, she had basked in the thrill of seeing so much of the world, never staying idle for long. But having walked all day without rest or nourishment, Lilac now fantasized about finding a comfortable inn and sleeping for two days straight.
By the time they stopped to make camp, Lilac had lost all track of time. They had wandered into a section of forest populated by great evergreens, which blocked all but a few streams of sunlight. She could tell by the darkening patches of sky that night was not far off, but that was all she could ascertain. They chose a spot about thirty yards from where they had left the goblins’ trail in case the monsters doubled back.
When Opal and Othello went out to hunt for supper, Lilac was left alone at the campsite to stew. She hadn’t said a word to either of her companions since joining them on the hopeless quest to find Colt and Cholk. She didn’t trust her tongue.
She couldn’t decide with whom she was angrier. Opal possessed the ability to infuriate her like no one else could. Othello, on the other hand, was her friend. His siding with Opal had been a slap in the face.
Beneath her irritation, however, was the nagging feeling they were getting in way over their heads. Throughout their daylong hike, she noticed the path was taking them north and east—back near Rydah and where Sir Dylan had guessed the goblin army to be.
We should have returned to the fort and let Stannel decide what to do about Colt and Cholk. I shouldn’t have let Opal pressure me into this suicidal course.
A little while later, the two archers returned with some hares and a squirrel between them. No stranger to roughing it, Lilac had learned long ago to be content with whatever food could be scrounged up. Anyway, she was so hungry that she might have happily eaten earthworms and crickets for supper.
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