The Law of Isolation

by Angela Holder

  “Father…” Nirel whispered again, but he withdrew and pushed the door shut. It thudded into place with a sound as final and unyielding as the door of the prison in Elathir.

  Twenty-Four

  “Josiah, wake up.

  Sar’s voice in his mind jerked him from sleep as effectively as if the words had been shouted in his ear. Josiah sat up so fast he nearly knocked heads with Elkan, who was leaning over him, hands on his shoulders. “What—”

  “Shh.” His master stooped to pick up the tunic Josiah had discarded on the floor and tossed it to him. “Get dressed. Throw some clothes in your pack, and whatever else you’ll need. You’re coming with me.”

  Josiah squinted in the faint moonlight to make sure his tunic was right side out before pulling it over his head. His brain was still foggy enough that it took him a moment to register what Elkan had said. When the meaning of his master’s words and the clandestine night waking finally hit him, he froze. “We’re going to Ramunna?”

  “Be quiet! Yes, we are. Now get ready. Gevan and Kevessa are waiting for us on the ship. If we don’t sail before sunrise, I’m afraid Guildmaster Hanion will try and stop us.”

  “Yes, sir!” Josiah kept his voice to an enthusiastic whisper. He scrambled out of bed and began haphazardly pulling garments out of his wardrobe.

  Elkan located Josiah’s pack where he’d shoved it under his bed and helped him fill it. In a few minutes it was bulging. He’d accumulated an awful lot of stuff since he’d been here. He’d have to leave most of it behind. It didn’t matter, though. The prospect of traveling across the sea was so exciting he wouldn’t have cared if he’d had to go naked.

  He slung the pack onto his shoulders and shot a glance at Elkan as he trailed his master and Tobi out of the room. Sar followed him, setting his hooves down with far more care than usual so they made only muffled clicks. “I didn’t think… I never expected you’d let me… I mean, I guessed you weren’t going to let Master Hanion stop you, but…Thanks, master.”

  Elkan snorted. “I need another wizard’s help tonight. Kevessa and Nina are new to each other and I didn’t want to risk them making a mistake.” He was quiet as they made their way down the corridor and into the vast darkness of the main Hall. When he resumed, it was with a tone of rueful affection. “Besides, I couldn’t leave you to Hanion’s mercies and let him take out his anger at me on you. In many guilds it’s usual for a master to have several apprentices, so I guess I can cope with two. There’s nothing in the Law that limits wizards to one, just tradition. We’re going to be breaking plenty of those soon; what’s one more?”

  Josiah heaved a sigh. “I guess I could have dealt with Master Hanion. But I’m glad I don’t have to!” He swallowed. “I wouldn’t have minded Master Dabiel, though. She really said she’d be my master?”

  “Yes, and she’d have been much harder on you than I ever am. She believed the best way to keep an apprentice out of trouble is to make sure they’re either too busy or too tired to make any mischief. I should keep that in mind.”

  Elkan must be happier than he’d been since the Ramunnans first appeared, to be teasing him that way. Josiah followed his master out the main front door of the hall and across the plaza.

  Instead of heading left across the square toward the docks as he expected, Elkan bore right toward the road that led to the market. Josiah trotted to catch up as Elkan lengthened his stride. “Where are we going?”

  “We’ve got a couple of errands to run. Captain Yosiv isn’t prepared to feed a donkey and a mountain cat all the way across the ocean. We can fish for Tobi, but Sar’s got to have hay. The stable that supplies the guild is this way.”

  “Oh.” Josiah reached to stroke Sar, vaguely ashamed that he’d been too excited to think about his familiar’s welfare.

  The stable was a complex of sprawling buildings clustered around a central courtyard. It was dark except for flickering lamplight in the window of one small shed. Elkan knocked on its door.

  A grunt and rustle came from within. After a moment the door creaked open and a bleary-eyed man peered out. “Wha’d’ya want?”

  “I’m sorry for waking you so late, Master Zonon, but something’s come up. Would it be possible to get a wagonload of hay, enough to feed a donkey for two months, delivered to the dock? Tonight, before sunrise?”

  The man blinked, his confused sleepiness swiftly giving way to comprehension. “To the foreigners’ ship?” He eyed Sar, then shifted his gaze back to Elkan. “So a wizard’s going with them after all?”

  “Yes.” Elkan didn’t elaborate. “Can you manage? Charge it to the Wizards’ Guild.”

  The man gave a little humph. His eyes travelled with avid curiosity to Josiah, then to Sar and Tobi, before returning to Elkan. “Mighty odd, needing it on such short notice.”

  “Now that the decision’s been made, it serves Tevenar best to sail as quickly as possible. We’ll receive the promised payment that much sooner.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” The herder raised his eyebrows. When no further explanation was forthcoming, he grunted. “It won’t hurt the apprentices to lose a little sleep. We’ll have your shipment at the dock in an hour. There’ll be an extra charge for the inconvenience.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” Elkan nodded pleasantly and gestured for Josiah to precede him across the courtyard to the street. Josiah heard the herder calling for his apprentices to wake.

  “He’s suspicious,” he whispered to Elkan as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “As long as he does as he promised. Once we’re away, it won’t matter.” Elkan turned his attention to the dark street in front of him. Josiah took the hint and kept quiet.

  Before long he realized they still weren’t going to the docks. At the intersection where they should have turned right, Elkan instead headed left, toward the bridge that spanned the Tarath. “Where are we going now?”

  Elkan gestured for him to keep his voice down. “To the prison.” His voice was hushed and grim. “We’re taking Tharan with us.”

  “What? Why?” But even as he asked Josiah guessed the answer.

  “If we don’t, Hanion will execute him tomorrow. We still don’t know who sent him, or why. Gevan is convinced it was the Purifiers, and he’s probably right, but I want to know for sure.”

  “Oh.” Josiah didn’t see how they could hope to wring the truth from the assassin, when no one had been successful so far, but he knew better than to try and stop Elkan when he’d decided on a course. Besides, this must be what Elkan needed him for. If his master had been content to let Tharan meet his well-deserved end, Josiah would probably still be asleep in his bed.

  Another thought occurred to him as they started across the long bridge, the dark water lapping beneath them. “Now that we’re going to Ramunna, won’t you be able to track him with a window? It won’t have been even half a year since the Verinna left. You’ll be able to see who gave him his orders, one of the Purifiers or someone else. It’s not like they would’ve known they needed to be sneaky.”

  Elkan was quiet for a long moment before he answered. “That’s true.”

  “So what does it matter if he’s executed?”

  This time his master’s silence stretched even longer. Sar’s hooves clopped hollowly on the boards of the bridge. Josiah had almost decided Elkan wasn’t going to answer when he finally spoke. “I don’t expect you to understand.” Elkan reached for Tobi, who butted her head against his hand. He fondled her ears. “You’ve never had to use—to allow the Mother’s power to be used through you—to kill. I hope you never do.”

  Josiah swallowed and nodded.

  Elkan kept his gaze focused ahead of them. “Just because we can do something with her power, doesn’t mean we should. We can choose another way, if we’re willing to accept the consequences. I couldn’t in Jianolan; there was nothing else that would have kept those girls safe.” His fingers dug into the fur at the nape of Tobi’s neck.

  Josiah remembered how Elkan’s hand had re
mained steady, gold light pouring from it, while the molester’s heart slowed to a stop. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of any words. And his master still didn’t know he’d spied on the execution he’d been forbidden to watch.

  Elkan’s voice was stronger when he resumed. “This time, though, there’s an alternative. Ever since Tevenar’s founding, exile has been considered an appropriate penalty for murder. Gevan tells me we’ll pass many habitable islands on our way through the archipelago. We can drop him off on one. He can live out his life alone, with no opportunity to harm anyone.”

  Josiah thought about that. At first it seemed far too kind a fate for the one he’d watched plunge his blade into Buttons’ heart, who’d slashed Master Dabiel’s belly so her guts spilled out. Should he be rewarded for that with a life of leisure in a tropical paradise, where he could pick fruit off the trees and lounge in the sun all day?

  But as they left the bridge and made their way through the dark streets, Josiah imagined the years passing with no voice but Tharan’s ever speaking. He pictured him cowering in some rude shelter while storms raged. He envisioned Tharan growing old and feeble, with no one to care for him if he became ill, or to bury him when at last he died. When he looked at it that way, it seemed a far crueler punishment than a quick and painless death.

  There were practical considerations as well. “But the court sentenced him to death. You agreed to it. You’re going to be in trouble when they find out.”

  “That’s the consequence I’ll have to live with.” Elkan’s voice was determined, but there was an undertone of trepidation Josiah had never heard there before.

  He didn’t know what sort of punishment might be meted out to someone who interfered with a court’s decision. “Are you sure it’s that important? It’s not you who’d have to—”

  “We need to be quiet now, Josiah. We don’t want anyone to hear us.” Elkan gestured to the closely spaced storefronts on either side. Their proprietors would be asleep with their families in the apartments above.

  Josiah scowled. He hadn’t been talking loud enough to disturb anyone. But he took the hint and shut up.

  After Prison Point had washed away, the watchers had appropriated a warehouse next to their guild headquarters to use until a replacement could be constructed. As they approached, Elkan slipped to the side of the road and edged through the shadows. Tobi flowed like a ripple of moonlight at his feet. Josiah did his best to imitate Elkan’s stealth, though he felt glaringly obvious. Sar’s hoofbeats couldn’t be completely silenced, no matter how delicately the donkey placed his feet.

  They slowed to a creep as they came to an intersection. Elkan pointed across the road. Even now in the dead of night a group of watchers kept vigil by the door. Josiah counted five of them. They weren’t taking any chances that Master Dabiel’s murderer might escape, or that an outraged citizen might attempt to take the Mother’s justice into their own hands.

  Elkan put his mouth close to Josiah’s ear and breathed a barely audible whisper. “It would be best if they don’t realize we’re here. If you and Sar can freeze these five, Tobi and I can deal with the ones inside.”

  Josiah nodded, not trusting his voice to stay quiet enough. He studied the five watchers, estimating the distance. He thought they were within range of his and Sar’s ability to wield the Mother’s power, but they were far enough that it would be a strain. And they’d have to slow all five to a stop simultaneously, their whole bodies and all their perceptions, if they wanted their interference to pass unnoticed. He gulped. Elkan was trusting him with a very difficult task. He hoped his master hadn’t overestimated his abilities.

  Elkan nodded and put a hand on Josiah’s shoulder. Then he stepped back to allow Sar to crowd close to Josiah’s side. Josiah took a deep breath and planted his hand firmly on Sar’s back. I’m ready. He extended the other hand toward the watchers as far as he could reach. Every inch closer would reduce the energy they had to expend.

  Hold steady. Sar sent a massive surge of power rushing through his body and out his fingertips.

  A filament of golden light, no thicker than a sewing thread, shot toward the watchers. It split into five branches. Between one breath and the next, a glowing cocoon encased each red-cloaked figure. Their faces remained unchanged, alert but unalarmed. All their little movements—shifting from foot to foot, adjusting a grip on a weapon, turning a head to murmur a remark to a companion—were stilled.

  Josiah’s pulse roared in his ears. He sucked in deep breaths, feeling as if he could barely keep from drowning. He was dimly aware of Elkan’s hand on his back, guiding him forward. Sar took a step, and he stumbled along with him, fighting to keep his hand plastered to the donkey.

  Their first step eased the pressure so much he had to keep himself from darting ahead, heedless of the connection with his familiar. Instead, he matched Sar’s trot across the road. They stopped immediately in front of the five watchers, Josiah’s hand inches from one’s nose. From here the effort of keeping them frozen felt easy, although Josiah was aware he was working far harder than during any but the most arduous healing.

  “Hold them there. We’ll be as quick as we can.” Elkan detached a ring of keys from one watcher’s belt, unlocked the door, and slipped inside, Tobi at his heels.

  Josiah’s heart pounded and his muscles ached. Sar’s ribs heaved under his hand. Their energy reserves were low; they’d both put in a full day of healing and had gotten only a couple hours of sleep. It took effort to force his thoughts into coherent words. How long can we keep this up? Can we give Elkan enough time?

  I think so. All that work on the wheat built up our endurance.

  Maybe Sar was right, but Josiah could tell it wouldn’t be long before he approached the drained exhaustion he’d grown far too familiar with during that time.

  The minutes seemed unbearably long. His outstretched arm trembled. He shifted position to brace it against Sar’s neck. Despite their efforts, the edges of the golden glow shrank until only a thin bright line haloed each watcher. Couldn’t we stop slowing their arms and legs? That shouldn’t matter.

  No. While the heart is slowed the extremities would suffer from lack of blood if allowed to function at normal speed. They’d feel a tingle when blood flow was restored and know something had happened.

  Josiah felt dangerously close to passing out. I don’t think I can hold much longer. Can’t we just slow their minds?

  If we have no other choice. But they’d be much more likely to notice when we release them. I’ll see if I can take more of the strain. Sar fell silent. Josiah found he could breathe a little easier.

  Even so, his vision was dissolving into grey and yellow swirls when at last the warehouse door creaked open. Elkan emerged, Tobi pressed to his side. They backed against the door while the light pouring from Elkan’s hand maneuvered a dark-clad figure into the street. Tharan moved with the jerkiness characteristic of those being compelled against their will by the Mother’s power. His face twisted as he fought to resist, but the light kept him silent.

  Elkan fumbled to get the keys back on the watcher’s belt while maintaining contact with Tobi and control of Tharan. Blessed relief flooded Josiah’s limbs as Tobi sent the Mother’s power over the watchers, sharing the effort of keeping them stilled.

  Elkan jerked his head and they made their way back across the street. Even with the four of them working together, Josiah was gasping before they were halfway across. It was all he could do to stay conscious as Elkan sent Tharan beyond the corner of the building, where the glow constraining him would be hidden from the Watchers.

  “On three,” Elkan whispered. He bobbed his head. “One, two—”

  Together, Sar and Tobi released the watchers. Josiah slumped over and braced his hands on his thighs, trying to keep his panting quiet. When he could focus again, he saw that the five watchers were back to normal, their occasional movements a sharp contrast to their previous unnatural stillness. As far as he could tell they were obliv
ious to what had happened.

  Elkan moved down the street. Josiah stumbled after him on legs that fell like blocks of iron. He couldn’t understand how his master had the strength to maintain control of Tharan while walking briskly toward the river.

  As they turned onto the main road, Elkan slowed to let Josiah catch up. He didn’t have a hand free to put on Josiah’s shoulder as he usually did when he was pleased with his apprentice, but his voice held all the warmth Josiah could wish for. “That was very smoothly done. I’m sure none of them will realize anything is amiss until they discover Tharan’s gone in the morning. There were only two inside, so you two had the bulk of the work. I wish I could let you rest, but we’ve got to get aboard that ship and away as fast as possible. You can sleep all the way to Ramunna if you need to.”

  “We’re fine,” Josiah insisted, straightening his sagging shoulders and doing his best to make his voice cheerful.

  Sar flicked an ear at him, then perked them both toward Elkan. Fresh as a pair of daisies.

  Elkan grinned wryly at them. Josiah was sure he knew Sar well enough to see the irony in the donkey’s gesture. He settled his hand more firmly on Tobi’s neck and increased his pace, propelling Tharan before him. Josiah gritted his teeth and trotted behind them across the long span of the bridge. The docks were only a short distance downstream on the other side.

  They took a shortcut along a narrow alley and joined the main road that led past the shipyards. Josiah hoped his brother wouldn’t worry too much when he learned of Josiah’s flight. He wished he’d had time to write a note to him, and to their parents in Korisan, to reassure them that he’d be safe. At least they’d know he was with Elkan.

  They made the last turn. The docks came into sight ahead, a forest of swaying masts silvered by moonlight. The Verinna’s three towered above all the others. Josiah quickened his pace.