by V. Lakshman
Brianna nodded. “And within the capsule in which I slumbered are tools that might help.”
“Help?” asked Silbane, “How?”
Brianna shook her head. “Much of my memory is gone, which means I have been asleep a really long time. I can’t be sure yet, but these tools will help me see if there’s something within Arek that can be healed. Perhaps the dark power stems from something within him that’s an illness.”
“It’s not his use of the Way, but his absorption of it that causes worry,” replied Silbane.
“As you say,” replied Brianna, “but I might be able to change that if I had access to my instruments.”
“Do you know where that thing you were found in is?” asked Kisan.
Brianna shook her head and pointed to a tattoo on her forearm. “My entat use is limited by this collar, but with it removed I can locate the capsule. My entats will also begin healing my memories, helping me understand more of this place, perhaps making me more useful.” This last part was delivered with a note of embarrassment.
Kisan looked at Silbane, then said, “Watching Lilyth toss that torc around reminded me we’ve got to be careful.”
Silbane nodded and said, “They can use the torcs. They can’t take them off, but they can use them, which means we can be—”
“We can’t take it off, either,” Kisan interrupted, clearly not interested in his stating the obvious. She looked at Thoth, who shook his head also. Silbane watched patiently, knowing Kisan was wound up tight. Nothing would unwind her except letting her be herself. And as she’d so eloquently put it, neither they nor the Aeris could remove these torcs once they were closed, which meant the Watchers were also not in consideration.
Then Ash stepped forward and said, “Perhaps I can try.”
Brianna looked down at the firstmark, and to Silbane. She now seemed to hesitate. Her fear was plain in her voice when she said, “You did not see what Arek did to those who had captured me.”
“And yet you just vouched for him,” Kisan said acidly.
Orion interrupted. “Arek told us he was afraid you would leave, phasing through stone and rock as your kin, abandoning him.”
Brianna took a breath and seemed to come to a decision. “I don’t know where I am, or even how long I’ve been asleep. My best chance of surviving is staying near you. I won’t leave, you have my word. But maybe we should wait until Arek agrees.” Her eyes flicked back and forth between Silbane and Kisan, looking for reassurance.
Silbane smiled and said, “I think I can speak for him on this. Will you let Ash try?”
Hesitantly, Brianna nodded, bending so that the firstmark could reach her neck. He looked at her, smiled, and touched the collar. “Now this won’t hurt a bit.”
Nothing happened.
Ash looked at the collar quizzically, then tried again. The collar didn’t budge. He asked Silbane, “What’s going on?”
“Rillaran,” Kisan breathed, remembering her introduction to him in Bara’cor. She looked at Silbane and gave a soft laugh. “His surname is Rillaran.”
Silbane’s eyes widened and he turned back to Ash. “Do you know who you descend from, Firstmark?”
Ash shrugged. “Of course, nothing to note. My father said he took the last name to honor his brother, a minor noble to some, a crazy hermit to others. My father always said his brother was better off living by himself.”
Kisan stepped forward and said, “I’d put good money down that he was Argus Rillaran, the Sunlord, the same that held the great dragon Rai’kesh at bay during the Rending of Shornhelm.” She looked at him with a mixture of awe and amusement, then at Brianna. “Relax, he’ll never get that torc off. The Way flows within him, the same as us.”
Brianna looked relieved. Perhaps the thought of the torc coming off without Arek’s permission was too much to bear. She sat down heavily, breathing as if she were trying to avoid passing out.
“It seems our luck has remained consistently bad,” Kisan commented.
“We’re still alive,” Silbane responded dryly.
She heaved an exasperated sigh at Silbane’s positivity, then asked Ash, “How do you not know your own family’s lineage?” Somehow, she managed to ask it in a way that implied the firstmark was an idiot.
Ash, for his part, looked equally confounded and spread his arms in frustration. “How would I? The magehunters eradicated family records. Those who survived certainly didn’t bring attention to themselves. My father and I lived far from any city until I was accepted into Shornhelm’s War College. Never had a lick of anything strange happen.”
“Not even your blade?” Kisan inquired, one eyebrow arched. “An ancient, sentient sword picks you as its wielder. Does that sound normal?”
“Who’s to say what normal is when that blade was concerned?” Ash replied. “She’s a special kind of crazy.”
Silbane ignored the two, watching the firstmark closely, seeing how the Way flowed around and through him. He’d noticed it earlier, but the Way flowed so strongly here, it passed through both those with Talent and those without. It had never occurred to him that Ash could be gifted just as the rest of them were. Though Kisan and he had shared thoughts, he hadn’t realized the significance of the firstmark’s family name, not the same way in which he’d noticed Yetteje’s burgeoning Talent. He felt his age then, cursing himself for letting details slip by.
He pursed his lips and then interrupted the bickering between Kisan and Ash and said, “Enough. We can have a family history lesson later, but right now we need to decide what we’re going to do.”
Ash’s eyes turned hard when he answered, “I’ve already made my decision. I find Niall. If Lilyth can get me to Avalyon, that’s where I’m going.”
Orion spoke up. “We follow the princess, but” —he looked at Silbane— “having you and Kisan join us will increase our chances of surviving immeasurably.”
Silbane turned to Thoth. “Keeper, Lore Father Giridian shared his thoughts with us. You said the dragonkind can be trusted.”
Thoth nodded. “Insofar as you recognize that they will interpret their role very narrowly. They exist to safeguard the Way, and in doing so will combat anything they perceive as threats to it. Even you, Master Silbane.”
The master took this in, but knew if there had been orders to kill Arek, neither Giridian nor Kisan would have shared that. It would have made executing the order harder and Kisan was always the tactician. So he changed his tack.
“I think we accept Lilyth’s offer to send us to Avalyon,” he said to Kisan.
“What?” she replied. “If Arek is killed—”
He held up a palm, a simple gesture, but one informed by their decades together. It conveyed his message clearly: Trust me.
He risked a glance at her, but she didn’t look convinced. So he waited, and to buy time he asked Thoth, “Do you think recovering Brianna’s tools is possible, Keeper?”
“I’m sure Lilyth will agree,” Thoth said. “However, they will be useless until we can remove the magehunter collar, and none in Arcadia can do that.”
Silbane was quiet, deep in thought. Then he said, “I know who can.” He turned to Brianna and said with a smile, “Better to have your tools and not need them, than to need them and not have them.”
“Does that mean you’ve made a decision?” asked Thoth, looking at the masters.
Silbane looked at Kisan, who didn’t object, but narrowed her eyes with the implicit demand that he eventually make good on her trust. Then he turned back to the keeper and said, “It seems Avalyon is our only choice. Let’s get our children—all of them”—with a glance at Ash—“and go home.”
The group nodded, some uncertainly, but at least their purposes were aligned.
Silbane looked at Kisan and said, “How about you and I purge some of these memories we’ve been holding onto? I don’t think we’re going to find another time to try.”
Kisan winced, then nodded, “Fine.”
Together they walked a sh
ort distance away and sat down, closing their eyes. The rest of the group fanned out, all wondering what new hurdles fate would bring their way.
Brianna’s Tomb
Skill is not revealed by how hard or often one may strike,
but instead by how often one’s strike is true.
- Kensei Tsao, The Lens of Blades
A
rek didn’t want to disturb Yetteje, who had remained silent in the wake of her father’s disappearance. He was relieved when the double doors opened and the rest of the group, led by Thoth, were escorted back in. He looked at Lilyth in surprise; her only response was to raise a finger and say, “Wait.”
They neared the dais and Silbane stepped forward.
“We will accompany Arek to rescue Niall and the red mage,” he said. “But we have a request.”
“Ask what you will.”
Master Silbane looked at Arek and then the demon queen.
“The dwarven woman has instruments she needs,” he said to Arek, “and her collar needs to be removed.”
Lilyth looked Silbane before her eyes came to rest on Arek himself. She said softly, “I will have the tomb brought here” —two guards left immediately at that— “but the rest is beyond my power. Once closed, even I cannot remove a magehunter’s torc.”
Silbane turned to stare at Arek, who felt confused by his master’s inspection. “You think I can?”
“Most certainly. I ask you to free her.”
Here was a first—his master asking instead of ordering him. Arek’s caution reasserted itself. Where before he would not have questioned Master Silbane’s request, here he knew every action he took might mean his life. He mostly trusted Silbane, but he was no longer just an apprentice. He’d thought of himself as an adept ever since the blackfire—but thinking of himself that way and having others recognize it were two very different things. It was difficult for him to not fall into the same relationship as before. Yet time and circumstance had given him some modicum of objectivity. Furthermore, Master Silbane had been duped by Rai’stahn, so he was not infallible.
“Why?” Arek asked.
Silbane seemed taken aback by that, then he said, “Because I asked you to.”
Arek shook his head. “I’m sorry . . . I can’t take that chance, Master. These dwarves almost killed us at Bara’cor. I’m not sure why I kept her alive, but you’ve taught me to never squander an asset. Letting her go is not tactically viable.” He turned to Kisan and asked, “Correct?”
His sudden question to Kisan seemed to startle her as she snapped out of whatever she’d been thinking. Her eyes narrowed. “Be happy we’re asking, apprentice.”
Her emphasis on the last word seemed intended to try to intimidate him, but Arek now had command of his emotions. He’d seen Yetteje’s plight, understood the offer Lilyth made, and realized that she was not in a position to demand. Part of him wished he could summon Piter and watch the expression on her face, but now was not the time to reveal the extent to which he’d prepared. No one except he, and perhaps his master, cared for his life.
So instead of rising to her jibe, he said, “Has ‘because I said so,’ become a suitable tactical response?” He looked at her without blinking, and felt a small bit of pride when she acquiesced by shaking her head.
He turned his attention back to his master and said, “You realize that she might just phase through the rock below. That would mean we’d lose whatever she knows, which I think is important.”
Silbane nodded. “I’ve considered it. She’s also promised us she won’t, and I believe her. I ask you to trust me—and her.”
Arek considered this, and also the fact that his master mightnot be privy to all the orders given by the Council . . . such as the reason behind Kisan’s presence. It was clear Silbane trusted her, but Arek didn’t. Maybe now was the time to force some honesty from the younger master. There could be many reasons for her being here, but if even one didn’t bode well for either himself or Silbane, he wanted it out in the open. So he did what he’d been trained to do—when you can’t dodge, deflect. And when you can’t deflect . . . pierce.
He faced Kisan and demanded, “What are your orders concerning me?”
His directness had the desired effect, as Kisan’s face blanched and she looked at Silbane.
“What?” she said.
Arek stepped a little closer to Lilyth and said, “You heard me. What are your orders? I would know before releasing Brianna and creating another set of unknowns.”
“Silbane, you can’t—”
Lilyth interrupted Kisan and said, “You’ll address my son.” Though she had not moved, a deadly stillness permeated the air. For the first time the look on Kisan’s face reflected caution instead of disdain.
Silbane held up a hand, “A moment, please.” He turned then and faced Kisan, who reluctantly broke eye contact with Lilyth and looked down. Arek’s master asked, “Giridian ordered you to kill Arek?”
Slowly, Kisan raised her eyes and met Silbane’s own. Then she said, “What do you think?”
Arek stepped forward but his master held up a hand forestalling him, still facing Kisan, and asked, “Would you have?”
Kisan’s eyes flicked over to Arek, then back to Silbane. A small quiver passed through her as she took a deep breath, then she shook her head, “I don’t know. I think of the unfairness to Piter.” She looked down again, one trembling hand coming up to cover her mouth.
Thoth then said, “The blame falls upon me, for I told Giridian that Arek could not be allowed to enter Arcadia. Yet I have spoken to your Lore Father, and the orders concerning Arek have been recinded.”
Arek spun at that, his mind seething at the betrayal surrounding him. First Rai’stahn attacking, then the king torturing him, now Master Kisan, and finally Thoth. Was everyone trying to kill him?
It was Thoth himself who answered that by saying, “Understand, it has always been so. No null has ever been allowed to enter Arcadia. Your death here is the only outcome Sovereign wishes to achieve, yet we risk you being here to gain a better outcome.”
“What better outcome?” Arek shot back.
“Life,” said Thoth, “for both our peoples.” He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “You know of the dark nephilim. You have seen them, yes?” Something in Arek’s expression must have conveyed that he had, for Thoth continued.
“These dark things are not just a by-product of fear and death, they are also Sovereign’s tool, created to destroy Aeris with a touch. Why do you think the Watchers exist at all?”
He gestured to Orion and Helios.
“Born from necessity. For the dark depravities of your world come to life here as nephilim, and worse. Without the ever-present eyes of these stalwart guardians to destroy them at each turn, Arcadia will be overrun and Sovereign will win yet again.”
Thoth turned to address the rest of the group, “This war has been waged for millennia, but we are few and becoming fewer still as Edyn’s folk reject Ascension. We cannot withstand his might indefinitely, and so must break the cycle.” He looked at Lilyth, releasing the floor to her.
“Arek,” Lilyth said softly, “what do you wish to do?”
Arek looked at her, angry and confused. Then he turned back to Silbane and said, “This quest, to close the Gate, it was Lore Father Themun’s order to take me?”
Silbane was silent, then he took a breath and nodded, saying, “Until Rai’stahn chose to attack, we were truly meant to investigate. I couldn’t let the dragon hurt you, and thus we were separated. Then, it seems Thoth and the new Lore Father Giridian spoke. I surmise—” he looked at Kisan “—during that conversation someone was ordered to ensure you did not survive.”
He turned to Thoth, “Clearly, Keeper, you told Giridian that Arek must die, and kept that knowledge from me.”
Thoth looked down and cleared his throat, “As I have said, that order has been lifted.”
“So you say, now, conveniently.”
“It benefits nobody
if Arek dies here. For what possible reason would I—”
Silbane laughed, “I can think of thousands, Keeper.” Then Silbane looked at Arek, sincerity shining in his eyes. “We have been searching since we lost you, all of us. Everyone acted with what they knew at the time, but clearly things have changed.”
He turned to Kisan, asking, “What are your intentions now?”
Kisan was quiet for a moment, then she faced Arek. “I would see you give up this quest for the red mage, and leave Arcadia now.”
Silbane added, “But if you decide to dare Avalyon, we will come with you. We’ll not abandon you again.” At this, the rest of the group nodded, but Kisan was absolutely still.
Arek took it all in. His master was sincere, of that he was certain. He was less certain of Kisan, but knew being forewarned was forearmed, and she would not catch him by surprise. He could feel his power swell within him at the thought of combat, and knew he could not be so easily dispatched, even by those as deadly as his former teachers.
He’d also made plans to ensure the safety of himself and those he loved. He found himself including Yetteje, and was surprised. That she seemed to like him, too, was almost too good to be true. He risked a glance at her and smiled. She moved a little closer and smiled back, sending a small flutter of joy through him.
He turned his attention back, hoping no one had noticed, and looked at Brianna. He gestured with a small incline of his head, saying, “Come.”
The dwarven woman stepped up to the dais, her gaze an equal measure of hopeful and fearful. When her collar was level with his head, she stopped. Arek looked at the metal, now a grayish copper that sucked in the light, so unlike the bright ring that had bounced down the dais before. It looked dull and lifeless to most, but as Arek watched, he could see the particles of force that brought its magic to bear. If he stared long enough, he was sure he could unravel the secret of its forging, but that was not important to him right now.