“I’d betcha they’re mercenaries or criminals,” Bealdred said. “Hidin’ from Promencian law. No better place to do it. Kinda admire the idea, truth be tol’. Livin’ in the forest, not a care to the …” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling.
“How the Void have they remained hidden?” Reynolds asked. “It’s a miracle we haven’t encountered any orocs so far, and this camp has been here for a while.”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Andros mused. “Dampening wouldn’t cover the whole area unless they had Archmagi of both earth and spirit, and they wouldn’t be able to dampen all the time.”
“We should’ve brought a Tecton or Geist at least,” Alleen said.
“Indeed we should have,” Reynolds agreed, as either one could’ve offered an advantage, and a healer proved essential for most operations. Of course, that would’ve meant finding one stupid enough to volunteer for the suicide mission. “But it isn’t like we had a lot of choice in conscripting people to volunteer for this madness.”
“Alma wanted to come, but Calhein forbade it,” Oltarian said. “Said he was too valuable.”
“And he was right,” Andros said. “This is a fool’s errand, for sure.”
Reynolds adjusted his crouch. “If they’re outlaws, they won’t be happy to see us.”
“We may want to find …” Andros’ words trailed off as another group strode into view, led by a golden-haired woman. They filed through an almost invisible gap in the trees.
Reynolds blinked and dragged a nail along his neck, checking to ensure he was really awake. Could it really be?
“Praise the Aspects,” Bealdred said, as Tetra and Corporal Mikkels followed the woman into the camp. “The git lives!”
Reynolds wondered if the Rocmire itself had conjured ghosts to taunt him. Sibyl? He’d thought her dead for so long. How was this possible?
“Malthius?” Alleen frowned at him. “Are you all right? You look paler than a ghost.”
All but Andros turned to look at him. It took a moment for her words to register as he recovered from the shock. “I’m fine. It’s just … I know that woman.”
“On me,” Andros ordered, rising. Reynolds and the others scrambled to join him. “It’s time to decide this. They have my nephew, though it looks to be he is there willingly.”
The captain carefully moved from tree to tree, stealthily moving toward the grove. Malthius and the rest of the rescue party followed suit. They reached the grove undetected, and Andros used the same opening the others had to slip through the trees. Once they all stood in the clearing on the other side, he motioned them to spread out. The camp was busy, with a lot of people arguing, and no one noticed the small group. Andros called out, “Well met!”
The group in the middle of the camp drew weapons and spread out for combat. Andros waved empty hands. “No need for that. You outnumber us and we mean you no harm.”
Reynolds locked gazes with Sibyl. It truly was her. How? A man stood beside her, a short sword in hand, but held in a defensive position, tilted across the lower portion of his body. “Don’t come any closer!”
Then Tetra stepped forward, his eyes wide. “Uncle? I thought … I …”
“Tetra.” Andros crossed his arms over his chest, sounding wry. “Fancy finding you here.”
“Malth?” Sibyl’s whisper cut straight to his ears.
Reynolds stared at her, unsure of how to react. “Sibyl.”
“Major,” Mikkels said, smiling. “Bealdred, what are you all doing here?”
“We felt like a stroll,” Bealdred said. “We’re here for you and the git, idjit.”
“No, I mean, how’d you find us? We’re in the middle of the Rocmire and I was careful to not leave a trail. Er. So orocs wouldn’t … spot … us.” He looked to the side and shuffled in place.
“Orocs, eh? Yes, we were all sure that was it. The captain’s tracking skill proved more than a match to the task.” Reynolds said, not taking his eyes off Sibyl.
“Jaimson Richarde,” Bealdred said. “Y’wily snake. I knew you’d turn up sooner or later. Do I gotta arrest you agin?”
The man by Sibyl grimaced and sheathed his sword. Sibyl tore her gaze from Reynolds to look at Jaimson, then at Bealdred. Her shoulders sank a bit.
“Put away your weapons, men. That one’s a Dreadknight,” she said. “The rest of you, need I remind you that we are not in your home, you are in ours. Comport yourself appropriately.”
While most complied right away, some took a bit to follow her order, not understanding that Bealdred could likely kill them all and hardly break a sweat.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Jaimson said. “I quite like being a free man.”
Bealdred snorted. “If y’call bein’ stuck in the middle of oroc land free. But yer point is taken. This is your camp, not ours. I’ll not threaten anyone else with arrests, and ye have my apology.”
“Well,” Andros clapped his hands together, “it seems we have much to discuss.”
***
Chapter Thirty-eight
Tetra Bicks
Tetra and Andros sat apart from the main fire. The others, from Drayston and the Admired, were crowded around a cask of mead. Several slabs of rocboar meat roasted on spits, and in a metal oven that the Admired blacksmith, Thardin, was busy explaining to Bealdred. Sibyl basted the slabs of meat with a special sauce Jaimson had helped her whip up.
“I’m not sure I want to eat that,” Kellian said, watching her tend the cuts. Laughter rose from the men around the mead, as they’d all heard how she and Pavil dealt with Riktos.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Tetra told his uncle. He tapped his temple. “It’s always been there, but never as strong as it is now. I want to move, to find her.”
Halli moved closer, and the sense of her nearness filled Tetra with anxiety, despite the spate of recent reunions. There was danger near her, and more. The closer he got to her, the more he felt aware of the entire forest. It wasn’t something he could explain. He’d tried to tell Andros how he knew she lived, but had had no clue how to describe a connection like that, especially when he didn’t understand it himself.
“That may be,” Andros said, “but it still leaves the issue of how to rescue her and the others, even if you find them. The orocs will kill you and anyone else with you as soon as they detect your presence.”
Oltarian sat on Tetra’s left, mug of mead in hand.
“Pavil and Malec are alive.” Tetra thumbed at his friends, who joked and played a game of stones with the Admired. “They say Halli and the others were, too, when they last saw them.”
“That was months ago, and before the attack on Drayston,” Andros said. “A lot can change in that time. I believe you, nephew, and I’m not trying to argue. I’m just trying to prepare you for the reality we may find.”
“A lot has changed. She’s moving, for one thing. She’s close. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think she’s more than a day or so away. I won’t leave without her. We are so close, uncle, I just … I can’t. I have to get her back. Please.”
Andros glowered. “And I won’t let you run off and get yourself killed.”
“You may not have to,” Bealdred said, appearing behind them. “I spoke with Lord Drayston. He said we could offer the orocs captured during the attack in exchange for the children. If we can get the orocs to talk before they kill us, that is.”
Andros frowned at the blacksmith. “He didn’t mention anything about that to me.”
“’Cause he knew you’d refuse to invoke his name and violate King Gerillon’s decree.”
“That does sound like my uncle,” Oltarian said.
Stark terror blossomed in Tetra, so powerful he couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his chest.
“What sounds like Lord Drayston?” Reynolds asked as he, Kellian, and Alleen joined the group.
Words refused to come to Tetra’s tongue as he fought the tremendous fear. How could no one else feel this? His sister’s
fear, not his. That’s how. But it was overwhelming. Something terrible was happening to her. He hadn’t felt fear like this since Jaegen.
Oltarian filled the others in. “We might be able to trade the oroc prisoners being held at Drayston for the children, if we can get the orocs to negotiate.”
Reynolds tugged his mustache. “He agreed to that? Better than going in with nothing, I suppose.”
“Tetra?” Kellian shook his shoulder.
The group focused on him, but he couldn’t reply. He tried, but his mouth and all of his muscles were frozen.
“Git’s pale as a ghost!”
Andros went to his knees beside Tetra. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Tetra felt his uncle’s strong arm around his shoulder.
At last, he broke the fear overcoming him, quelling the violent emotions. He worked his dry mouth. “Hal—Halli. I can f-feel her fear. Something happened!”
The group stared at him. Kellian turned and jogged to the other circle.
“Something terrible’s happening,” Tetra said between gulps of air. “Oh, Aspects! It’s like she’s dying! Or someone is. I don’t understand. It’s horrible.”
“Tetra, you must calm down,” Andros said, voice soothing. “Breathe evenly.”
Kellian returned with Pavil and Malec. “Pavil is a Pathos, right? Maybe he can help.”
Andros fixed his eyes on the boy. “Pavil, I need you to delve him.”
Pavil shook his head. “I can’t. I’m no good at quashing—”
“You don’t need to quash, just delve,” Andros said. “You can do it, I’m sure.”
Pavil looked down at his feet. “I don’t know what delving is. I’m sorry.”
Andros nodded. “That’s okay. It’s not something that is generally taught until Academy, I just hoped Prounim had taught you. Delving is like finding water, Pavil; that moment when you sense the emotion inside someone, and instead of pushing or pulling, hold yourself there. Study it. Tell me what you see.”
“I think I understand.” Pavil nodded bravely. “Okay. I’ll try.”
Tetra still breathed hard, trying not to let the fear consume him. A tingle formed inside his mind, something he wouldn’t have noticed unless he knew he’d been touched by an Affinity.
“I feel it,” Pavil said. “Lots of fear. Panic. But … it’s not his. How’s that possible?”
“A spirit bond,” Andros said. “That has to be it.”
“I thought only Geists could do that,” Oltarian said.
“Halli is a Geist,” Malec said. “A strong one, too.”
“But Tetra’s a Graviton.” Reynolds scratched his chin. “My understanding has always been that a bond can only be formed between two Geists.”
“They’re twins,” Andros said. “Perhaps that allowed the bond to form from just one side.”
“Never heard of anythin’ like that,” Bealdred said.
“Regardless, what do we do?” Reynolds asked.
Andros placed a hand on Tetra’s shoulder. “Can you move? Walk?”
Tetra sucked in a deep breath. He knew what to do. He had found this place once before. Amidst the fear, the pain, was something else. An unbreakable core. He pushed against that core inside himself, then nodded and rose to his feet, arms and legs trembling. Taking action of any sort felt better than just sitting there, wallowing in fear.
“Everyone gather your things,” Andros said. He looked past them and addressed Sibyl, who stood nearby, listening. “We’d be grateful if you and any of your men would join us. We may be encountering orocs, and even a small show of force might give them pause long enough for us to begin negotiations.”
Tetra closed his eyes, preparing himself. He grabbed that unbreakable core at his center and tried to project it along his bond. Not sure if it worked, he opened his eyes. Sibyl was biting her lip, thinking.
“I don’t think my men are going to jump at a chance to commit suicide for Drayston,” Sibyl shook her head. “Most of them come from prisons that Drayston soldiers stuck them in.”
Oltarian stood. “I can guarantee a pardon for any of your men, so long as their crimes don’t include murder.”
She raised one slim eyebrow. “I’ll pass the word.”
“What about you?” Oltarian asked.
She glanced at Reynolds and her voice went icy. “I’ve never committed a crime in my life. I don’t need your pardon.”
***
Chapter Thirty-nine
Halli Bicks
Halli woke to ifrahn voices nearby. Their hissing speech scratched echoes out across the cavern. Whoever spoke didn’t stand too far away, though they remained out of sight. It took her a moment to realize she understood the words, as an ifrahn talked in the Promencian tongue.
“… humans not yet war with orocs,” it said.
Another voice answered it, smooth and rich, not at all the ifrahn’s throaty sibilating. “Yes, Lord Drayston didn’t send his forces into the forest as we anticipated. His people demonstrated unexpected restraint.” A human voice. A human working with the ifrahn? “Not to worry. Burn a few more human nests, torch a few more oroc clans, and we’ll have everyone so worked up, they’ll attack anything that moves.”
Not working with the ifrahn, she realized. Commanding them.
A groan made her look over to where Gnarrl gripped the bars of the cage. His arms shook, but not in fear. Fury lit in his eyes. The despair and fear from earlier were gone.
“What of little humans?” the ifrahn asked.
“Your scrying says the one we want is not amongst them, I assume?”
“Yes. That is true. It is somewhere else.”
“They’ll provide one last diversion, then.” The human said. The voice sounded male. “Take them topside and kill them at the edge of the forest where a Drayston patrol will find them. Don’t burn them, though you can burn the orocs …”
The voices moved too far away to hear. Halli sagged to the floor, and Gnarrl slumped beside her. He met her eyes.
She felt—she blinked. As surprising as it was, she felt strength rather than fear. She would not be beaten. She had guided the children through the imprisonment with the orocs, she would rise to this challenge as well.
“Ancestors and Aspects forgive us,” Gnarrl spoke quietly, careful to keep his volume low enough that they weren’t overheard. “It was never humans who destroyed the Foxleaf clan. We attacked your home. We slaughtered your families. We are no better than the ifrahn who burned our saplings.” Shining green tears oozed down his cheeks.
Halli stayed silent, trying to sort through everything. She did grab Gnarrl’s hand to provide what comfort she could while thinking. The oroc attack on Jaegen was a terrible tragedy, but even knowing the truth, they couldn’t go back and undo it. Right now, they had to find a way to get the truth out to those who’d listen, so no more blood would be shed. That mattered most; surviving, so both humans and orocs could realize they’d been duped and used against one another.
As she stood, Tetra’s presence flared within her mind. The sudden change made her stumble and catch herself against the side of the cage.
“Geist Walker?” Gnarrl’s voice filled with concern.
Halli steadied herself. “We have to wake them and tell them,” she said, looking at the sleeping children. “They all have to know, so if any of us escape, we can still spread the word.”
Gnarrl lowered his head. “There will be no escape. We will all burn here.”
“We must try. For the future of both our peoples.” The determination in her voice was unexpected even by her.
“Our peoples.” He chuffed. “My people do not listen to me. My shaman does not listen to me. He thinks me a liar. A traitor. If I tell them ifrahn are here, hiding beneath our very roots, they will tell me my heartwood is rotten. That my sap has run dry.”
“We can’t control what others think or feel or do,” she said. “We can only control what we do. That’s all we have to live with in the end. And right now, we have to fin
d a way to tell them the truth and hope for the best.”
Gnarrl turned a leery eye on her. “Do you hope, Geist Walker?”
She gazed back, unwavering. “I do.”
He stared at his lap for a while. Then he raised his head and placed a hand over hers. “Then so do I.”
***
Chapter Forty
Sven Malschev
Far above the ground the cage swung slightly, jostled by the light movements of the children and orocs inside it. Sven held onto the bars with his unburnt hand, keeping the burnt one held close to his stomach. Looking down at the molten fire below, he wondered how long it would take for the iron chain holding the heavy cage up to snap. Morbid thoughts cascaded through his mind, overwhelming the last vestiges of hope he had experienced with Gnarrl’s promise to take them home.
It had seemed so perfect, so just, for them to be taken home by the very creatures that had kidnapped them. He didn’t know why the orocs had had a change of heart, but whatever the reason, it didn’t matter now. These new creatures, these ifrahn, were going to kill them.
He sighed and leaned against the warm metal cage. His entire life had become defined by cages, and he did not fail to notice the progression. First a cage of wood, then a cage of stone, and now a cage of metal. The only cage left was of spirit, his body. The only freedom from that was death, and that seemed imminent enough that he really didn’t have to worry much about it.
Sure there would be pain, and probably burning, but it would all be over soon. His ashes would scatter to the wind, leaving nothing left but his spirit, sent to wander the earth like all the other ghosts of Jaegen.
Someone touched his shoulder. He could barely find the energy to look. There wasn’t a point. The swirling eddies of heat coming from the floor of the cavern caught his attention. They looked like ghosts. Had other people died here as well? Would he join their spirits?
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