Ice Forged (The Ascendant Kingdoms Saga)

by Gail Z. Martin

  “Might wander that way myself when I’m off duty,” the guard said with a wistful look at the buckets. “Been a while since I’ve had some.”

  Connor breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the castle without incident. Nothing had interrupted his return, and his memory, thankfully, was intact. As soon as I give Garnoc my report, I’ll tell him about the other times, Connor swore to himself. I couldn’t live with myself if I’ve somehow betrayed his trust. No matter the consequences.

  Connor hurried up the back steps and knocked at the door to Garnoc’s rooms. He had barely finished knocking when the door opened.

  “Did you see her? What happened? Do you know what made the bells ring?”

  Connor had expected Garnoc to be sound asleep. The hour was past the late watch, and it was normally Connor’s custom to spend the night in town when he was sent on such an errand. That Garnoc was still awake gave Connor to realize that his master had a good idea of the nature of Alsibeth’s readings.

  “Come in, quickly now.” Lord Garnoc looked both ways down the deserted castle corridor before nearly pulling Connor inside the room. “I’m glad you made it back tonight.”

  Connor held out the lidded buckets. Garnoc took them and set them to the side, motioning Connor to a chair. He listened carefully as Connor recounted his conversation with the amulet seller, the tide of people fleeing the city, the supply and convict ships at anchor, and Alsibeth’s dark predictions. When Connor finished, Garnoc stood and poured them both ale from the buckets Connor had retrieved. Connor moved to make his confession, but Garnoc spoke first.

  “I know you haven’t slept, m’boy, but I don’t think there’s time to lose.” He reached under his shirt and withdrew Penhallow’s pendant, pulling it over his head and handing it to Connor.

  “Take this. Do you know where the king’s library is?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Garnoc nodded. “Put the pendant on—and keep it on. Go to the library and look for Valtyr’s map.” He paused. “Ring for Geddy. We can trust him to be discreet. He also has access to the seneschal’s keys. You might need an extra hand. I’ll vouch for you if anyone questions, say that you’re doing it on behalf of the War Council. Search high and low. I’m convinced more than ever that Penhallow’s instinct is correct. King Merrill’s called the Council together at dawn. The timing of the gathering suggests bad news.”

  Connor took a silver bell that sat on the side table and leaned into the corridor, giving it a couple of sound shakes. Within a few minutes, Var Geddy appeared, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Geddy was close to Connor’s age, a tall, angular young man with dark hair that hung lank and straight around his sharp features, often covering one eye. Geddy had always reminded Connor of a blackbird, clever but twitchy.

  “Master Garnoc rang?”

  Connor drew Geddy into Garnoc’s room and filled him in quickly to the mission as Garnoc nodded in approval. When Connor had finished, Geddy looked from one to the other.

  “You want me to let you into the king’s library?”

  “Yes, that’s what we need,” Garnoc replied as if it were an utterly normal request.

  “In the middle of the night, without bothering Master Lynge or the king about it?” Geddy looked skeptical. His master, Lynge the seneschal, was an efficient, intelligent man without a trace of humor. Connor felt a stab of sympathy; if they were caught, Geddy would no doubt be on the receiving end of one of Lynge’s notorious tirades.

  “No need to wake them,” Garnoc answered with a smile. “After all, I plan to take the item Connor retrieves with me to the War Council meeting in a few hours. It’s hardly as if we’re spiriting something out of the castle. I’d merely like to have some important—and overlooked—information at hand to share with the king.”

  “Of course,” Geddy replied, though he drew out the words, making his skepticism plain.

  “Tomorrow night I’ll be glad to show my thanks with a few tankards of bitterbeer down at the Rooster and Pig,” Connor threw in. “There’s a wench down there who caught your eye, if I remember rightly.” He dropped his voice conspiratorially and grinned. “I’m friendly with Engraham, the tavern master. I could put in a good word about you to him, and perhaps he can nudge the girl in your direction.”

  Geddy’s cheeks colored, but the offer seemed to overcome his reluctance. “All right. But let’s go before the morning servants are about. Just your luck it was that I happened to draw night duty tonight.”

  Slept through night duty is more like it, Connor thought, but did not say anything.

  Connor and Geddy encountered no one on their walk to the king’s library. It was still a few candlemarks before dawn, and except for the servants in the kitchen, few in the castle were awake and about. Connor had slipped the pendant under his tunic before calling for Geddy. The obsidian disk was cold against his skin. As they walked, Connor mused how best to explain the pendant to his companion if the search for the map forced him to take the disk from its hiding place.

  Think nothing of it. Just a little trinket given to me by an immortal vampire. Probably find a dozen just like it down at the market, Connor thought dryly as he considered his options. We think it’s an ancient magical amulet created by a really powerful mage who’s disappeared, but there’s nothing to worry about. Right. Connor sighed. As usual, I’ll just make something up when—if—the time comes.

  Geddy carried a small lantern to light their way. He kept the lantern’s shutters nearly closed and more than once, the thin young man glanced behind them, his pale-green eyes scanning the corridor.

  “We’re here,” Connor whispered as they reached the door.

  Geddy handed him the lantern and fumbled in his pocket, then withdrew a ring of keys. “One of these should work,” Geddy mumbled. His hands shook as he tried three keys before finding one that turned the tumblers. Geddy tugged the heavy door open and urgently gestured for Connor to enter. With a final cautious look up and down the hallway, he eased the door shut.

  Once the massive library door was closed behind them, he let the lantern shine with its full light.

  “Do you know what you’re looking for?” Geddy set the lantern on a table and moved quickly around the room, lighting a few more candles.

  “Yes… and no. Have you ever been in here before?” Connor looked around the room. Quillarth Castle’s library was something of a legend on the Continent. King Merrill’s great-grandfather valued scholarship, and collected scrolls and manuscripts from across Donderath and the other kingdoms. The library and the tutors brought in for King Merrill’s grandfather’s siblings became the talk of the land, and sparked a fashion among the nobles. It was whispered that the library contained quite a few occult texts and magical grimoires along with more prosaic histories and tales of great warriors.

  “Once or twice, Lord Lynge sent me up with documents for the king to sign,” Geddy replied. “From the first time I saw it, I fancied the room. I read well enough to give my master a hand, but I doubt I could read these books. I hear a lot of them have drawings in them, and writing in colored ink with gold. I’d sure like to have a look at those!”

  The room was not one of the largest in the castle, but the comfort of its furnishings gave Connor a surprising insight into their usually taciturn king. Its wide, deep fireplace was unlit, but the cushioned chair near the hearth looked well worn, and a lap robe lay draped across one of the chair arms. A side table with glass decanters and goblets offered a selection of brandy and whiskey. Connor had obviously intruded into the king’s inner sanctum, and his nervousness at the possibility of being caught increased.

  “I doubt what we’re looking for is quite that exciting,” Connor murmured. “And it’s going to be hidden, so we’ll need to look sharp.” He put his hands on his hips and looked around. “Where could someone hide a map in here that it would stay hidden?”

  “Why hide it at all?”

  Connor hesitated, unwilling to tell Geddy the whole tale, or to reve
al why this particular map was quite so special. “From what Lord Garnoc’s been told, several other maps by this mapmaker were so desirable that someone stole them.”

  “Pinched them? From under the king’s nose?”

  Connor chuckled. “I doubt the king was reading them when the maps were stolen. But yes, from the library, so the story goes. This fourth map must have been hidden better than the others, or maybe the thief didn’t realize there was a map he didn’t get.”

  Taking a deep breath, Connor and Geddy set about their work. Connor looked at the high wooden bookshelves packed with scrolls and leather-bound manuscripts and felt panic rise. Where in Charrot’s name do I look?

  Connor began to walk around the room’s perimeter. The built-in bookshelves rose higher than his head, and above them, covering the walls of the room up to the ceiling, was a mural of the constellations sacred to each of the major gods of Donderath’s pantheon: Mighty Charrot; Torven, the trickster; Esthrane, mother of life; Yadin, the god of sea and ice; Dorcet, goddess of birth. The murals were beautifully painted, and inlaid with gems, decorative tile, and bits of gold and silver.

  “You know, with the lines drawn between the stars and all, I can actually see why the fortune-tellers talk about the gods being in the stars,” Geddy said, and Connor looked over to see that the young man also was staring at the ornate mural. “Wish you could see the lines like that in the real sky. I never could make it out for myself. Figured the seers were pulling my leg.”

  Connor had been slowly walking from image to image. He stopped in front of the image of Vessa, goddess of fire. In the artist’s imagination, Vessa had wild, red hair that flowed waist-length behind her. In her right hand she held a burning brand, the kind used to light every kitchen fire and cook stove. In her left hand, she held a lightning bolt. At her feet flowed lava from an exploding mountain, setting an entire forest aflame. Volatile, quick to curse and quick to bless, Vessa was a goddess of both life and death.

  Connor cast a glance over his shoulder at the fireplace, assuring himself that it was unlit. “Warm in here, isn’t it?”

  Geddy frowned. “Without the fire lit, I was actually thinking it was a mite cool.”

  Connor moved away from the mural of Vessa, continuing his trek around the room. A chill ran down his back. He glanced at Geddy. “This is going to sound strange, but has it just gotten a lot colder in here in the last few minutes?”

  Geddy looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure you’re not ill? I’ve been within three paces from you this whole time, and I still think it’s a bit cool, but tolerably so.”

  Connor shifted, and the pendant slid against his undershirt to touch bare skin. The disk was ice cold.

  Connor crossed the room to stand once more at Vessa’s feet. Within a few breaths, he felt sweat rise on his temples, and noticed that the pendant had grown uncomfortably warm against his skin. He looked up at the mural of the goddess with new interest.

  “Hot or cold is it?” he murmured to himself. “Let’s see just how warm I am.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon?”

  Connor eyed the shelves. “I’ve got a hunch that it’s over here. Give me a hand.”

  Connor and Geddy started at the bottom shelf, examining every scroll and manuscript, yet the pendant gave no further clue. They found no maps at all, and as their search took them to higher and higher shelves, Connor’s nervousness grew that they might be discovered.

  He craned his neck to look at the shelves high above his head. “Is there something we can stand on that won’t break to reach up there? I’m guessing there’s a way to get those books down.”

  “Aye. There’s a ladder over there.” Geddy pointed to a small ladder. Unlike the workmen’s tools in the barns, this ladder was made of the same rich, polished wood as the shelves themselves.

  With the ladder, Connor could reach not only the top shelf but see the mural up close. The artist had captured Vessa’s spirit as well as her sensuality. In awe, Connor stretched up a hand to touch the feet of the goddess.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Geddy said, but the appreciation in his tone wasn’t totally reverential.

  Connor flinched as the pendant burned against his skin. The disk was as hot as if it had been in a fire. He snatched it from beneath his tunic, careful to hold it by its leather strap. It glowed with a faint green light. He pulled the strap over his head and held the disk closer to the mural; the green glow grew stronger.

  “Hold up there, what’s that?” Geddy called up to him. “Where’d you get that?”

  “It’s supposed to go with the map,” Connor replied. “Made by the same person.”

  “You never told me it was magic. I didn’t agree to go looking for a magic map.”

  Ignoring Geddy, Connor climbed to the very top rung of the ladder to get a better look at the mural. He lifted the disk like a lantern, moving it across the figure of Vessa. When he moved it to the left, the glow dimmed, but as he moved it to the right, the glow intensified until he held it over the burning brand in her right hand. The pendant now glowed brightly. Connor leaned forward to see better. The brand looked to be an inlay of wood.

  Holding the pendant aloft with his left hand, Connor began to gently probe the length of the brand with the fingers of his right hand, mindful of his precarious position on the ladder. He felt a small rise, like a knot in the wood, and heard a quiet click. The brand slid out from the wall, revealing a slim wooden box. The pendant’s glow was now nearly blinding, and Connor carefully withdrew the box from the mural and climbed carefully down the ladder.

  “You found it!” Geddy crowded close to him, eager for a look. “What’s so special about it, anyway?”

  “Let’s have a glance at it and see for ourselves,” Connor replied.

  “We need to get out of here,” Geddy reminded him.

  “I’ve got no desire to take the wrong map back to my master. If it’s not the right map, I can put it back and we can keep looking. I don’t think we’ll have another chance to get back in here.”

  Connor swiveled the box’s top out of the way and gently tapped the box against his hand. Inside was a large piece of parchment, very old, and from what Connor could see, it was indeed a map.

  Gingerly, Connor withdrew the map and spread it as flat as he dared on one of the library tables. Geddy stood on tiptoe behind him, straining to see. The parchment was yellowed, and Connor feared it might begin to crack at his touch. To his relief, it did not. The pendant continued to glow, though not as brightly as before. Connor looked more closely at the map, bending over it, and the pendant began to swing over the map. Just as he reached a hand to stop the pendant’s motion, it froze in midair of its own accord.

  “I saw one of the fortune-tellers down at the pub use a crystal like that,” Geddy said. “Is that disk something like her crystal?”

  “Apparently so.”

  Connor studied the map. The pendant hung directly over a series of symbols, runes he had never seen before. He bent closer to take a better look, and realized that the pendant was tugging at him. He lifted it from around his neck. When it lay flat on the map, the tugging stopped for a moment. His fingertips kept a light contact with the pendant, and the disk suddenly began to slide across the surface of the map, drawing his hand with it.

  “By Torven’s horns! I saw that. Did you move the disk—or did it move you?”

  Connor did not answer. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he saw no need in stoking Geddy’s interest in what had already been a most unusual errand. The pendant came to rest so that some of the odd cuts in the obsidian surface aligned with the symbols on the map.

  “Do you know what those markings mean?” Geddy had edged around Connor, totally forgetting his prior hesitation, and now leaned down from the opposite side of the table so far that his nose nearly touched the parchment.

  “I have no idea,” Connor replied, mystified.

  “Look at the marks on that disk. The way they line up with the squiggles on th
e map. Do you think that it’s some kind of code?”

  “I think that’s exactly what it is.”

  Geddy looked up at him, his pale eyes shining. “You think it’ll help us win the war?”

  “I don’t know, Geddy. I hope so. I think that’s why Lord Garnoc wants to show this to the king.”

  A strange, high-pitched whistling noise made both men jump. Geddy rushed to the window. Connor looped the pendant’s strap around his neck and hurriedly rolled the map and replaced it in its case. Light flashed outside the window as the whistling noise sounded again, louder and closer this time.

  “What’s going on?” he called quietly to Geddy.

  “Damned if I know, but you’d better see this.”

  Connor joined Geddy at the window. The rippled glass glimmered with reflected light, but gave him no reliable view. A strange greenish light coruscated across the glass, and outside, Connor could hear shouts. He stuffed the map case into his tunic.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Maybe we can see better from the bell tower.”

  Geddy grabbed his lantern, carefully snuffing out the candles he had lit and making sure everything had been returned to its original condition so as to leave no trace of their entry.

  When the door closed behind them, Connor and Geddy sprinted down the hall as quietly as possible. They reached the stairwell without being intercepted, and took the stairs two at a time until they reached the bell tower at the top. From here, they could see out over the city and down to the coast.

  Geddy glanced upward, and gasped. “Look there!”

  A curtain of light splashed across the sky like a glowing ribbon, shimmering with a green cast. It billowed and rippled like a flag caught in the wind.

  “Is it just my eyes or is that—whatever it is—getting closer?” Connor asked, catching his breath.

  The light had grown greener, and it filled more of the sky. At first, it cut a swath across the night, framed on every side by darkness. But as Connor watched, the coruscating light blotted out the stars and swallowed up the sky’s darkness. His heart began to pound, and he felt cold sweat on his back as the hair on his neck stood up.