by Ben Hale
“Don’t spark a light,” Toron warned. “Shadow magic is versatile, but the weakest of any magic. Any light will cause my tremendous display to disintegrate.”
Alydian blinked into her magesight and the surroundings turned awash with color. As fatigued as she was, she lacked the stamina to manipulate the stone walls, but a disturbingly short distance below was the base of the ravine, where a trickle of water gurgled over sharp rocks.
“Lower us down,” she said, “slowly. Another fifty feet and we’ll be able to walk out of here.”
She winced when the words left her mouth, and immediately apologized to Devkin, who didn’t respond. She looked his way with her magesight and saw that he was unconscious, the light of his life fading. She swallowed against her fear and urged Toron to hurry.
“You just said to go slow,” he growled.
Alydian watched the ground draw painstakingly closer. When they were feet from the rocky stream she cast a dim light in her hand. She caught a glimpse of the thick bands of darkness before they crumbled, and she landed heavily on a boulder. She and Raiden leapt to the side and they caught Devkin’s body together, easing him to the ground.
“Is he . . .”
She shook her head. “Not yet, but he will be if I don’t hurry.”
She wasn’t nearly as talented with healing magic, but she managed to weave a thread of pink into the flesh by his leg. It took her remaining strength to close the gash and remove a measure of the pain. The light dimmed as she worked, until it was hardly more than a candle. Then she sighed and sank back, her vision blurring.
“He may yet survive if we get him to a real healer,” she said.
“We will have to hurry,” Raiden said, looking upward. “They will come after us.”
“They probably think us dead,” Red added.
Toron shook his head, sending his black hair dancing in the darkness. “Elsin will want the bodies.”
Alydian squinted upward. They had fallen thousands of feet in seconds, and even with magic the Verinai would take time to descend to the base of the canyon. Still, if they didn’t depart with haste, the Verinai would be able to catch them.
Jester and Raiden took turns carrying Devkin as they worked their way over the rocks of the stream. Too weary to assist, Alydian wrapped a bandage around a wound on her arm and tried not to think of the pain.
The rocks were slippery with moss and nearly invisible, and she stumbled often. Only Toron kept his footing. Taking the lead, he guided them downstream, the minutes stretching into hours. When Devkin awoke, he refused to be carried, and hobbled along with the others. Even with her magic his pain would be excruciating, but he did not voice a word of complaint.
The hours passed in near silence and Alydian continued to stumble forward in a haze of fatigue and regret. She thought often of Grogith and his sacrifice, and her mother, the regrets numbed by the need for slumber.
Light sparked above, marking the touch of dawn. Shortly afterward the canyon ended where the river cut into a tunnel. The cave continued for several hundred paces before opening onto a wondrous vista. Alydian stumbled into the open and blinked against the sunrise, shielding her eyes from the brilliance.
The trickling stream gurgled into a great forest of pine. In the distance a lake was visible, as well as a handful of tree homes on its shores. The sun rose from the mountains in the west, bathing the world in golden light. Birds added a sweet melody to the scene.
“We’re in the elven kingdom,” Toron said, gesturing to the elven homes in the distance. “If we can make it to the village, we may find shelter.”
“I’m surprised the Verinai aren’t here waiting for us,” Raiden said.
“If they were,” Toron said, “we’d already be dead. Be grateful they were too arrogant to think anyone could flee by this route. You can be certain they will take measures to seal it now.”
“Come,” Alydian said, her eyes flicking to Devkin. “We have wounds to tend to, and a truth to share.”
They worked their way through the trees and to the elven village on the lake. Dried blood and dirt caked their bodies, drawing astonished looks from the village members. But the elves responded with care and compassion, leaping to attend to their various wounds. An aged healer cared for Devkin while her daughter closed the wounds on the others. A pair of village elders asked questions, but Alydian had donned the Alethean necklace and was evasive with her answers. They did not recognize her. When the healers were finished, they withdrew from the room.
Devkin lay on a bed while the others were sprawled about with bandages wrapped on their wounds. Healing magic sapped the injured’s body, so they were all sleepy. But Raiden rubbed his face and leaned forward in his seat.
“The Verinai will be here soon,” he said. “We must move on.”
“Where?” Red asked, fingering the bandage on her arm.
Devkin removed the memory orb from the pouch at his side. “Once the Eldress Council sees this, they will discipline the guild of Verinai.”
“They won’t accept a rebuke,” Toron said. “And do not forget, an oracle has betrayed the council. If Teriah stands with them, they may choose to fight.”
“They won’t,” Alydian said. “Not against the rest of the council. With the kingdoms and guilds as allies, even the Verinai will not be able to stand against us.”
“And the Soldier?” Raiden asked.
“Will be a hero,” she said, holding his gaze. “The Soldier has fought a war the people did not know about, and its time the kingdoms acknowledge his sacrifice.”
He smiled and stood. “We should hasten to Dawnskeep.”
Alydian shook her head. “Any Verinai in the elven kingdom will be watching for us. Take Devkin and the others north and I will meet you there. The quicker we end this, the quicker the monarchs return to governing their own peoples.”
“And we will be free,” Jester said.
“I’ll see you in Dawnskeep,” Alydian said, and stepped to the door.
“Alydian?” Red called.
Alydian came to a halt and looked to the woman.
“I never got to thank you for saving me at the Black Shrouds’ camp.”
Alydian smiled. “I couldn’t let a friend die.”
“I’m glad to call you friend.”
Alydian’s smile widened. “I hope you’ll continue to be so in the coming conflict.”
Alydian nodded to Jester and Toron before slipping out the door. As she stepped onto the balcony, Raiden joined her, and for a moment they stood alone. Alydian wanted to speak, to share what she felt, but the words did not come. Raiden looked down at her, his eyes soft as he reached up and moved an errant hair from her face. She smiled, suddenly shy.
“You never told me why you became the Soldier,” she said.
He flashed a wry smile. “It’s a sad tale.”
“I’d like to hear it,” she said, “If you’re willing to share.”
He stepped to the balcony and looked out over the lake. “Ten years ago, my brother and I joined the Runeguard.”
She raised an eyebrow at that. “That’s how you knew so much about oracles.”
He nodded. “We also learned a great deal about the Verinai, and witnessed them commit many crimes. My brother and I started an inquisition against them, but the Verinai had us dismissed. We refused to let the matter drop and began gathering support. Other Verinai crimes came to light and our combined voices demanded attention. That’s when the Verinai tried to end our inquisition . . . by ending us.”
“And your brother died?” Alydian asked.
Raiden turned to her. “They thought us both dead, and I realized the anonymity would be my armor. Our followers became the Defiant, and I became the Soldier.”
“I remember that inquisition,” Alydian said. “Teriah helped the Verinai end it, and I assumed it was baseless.”
“The Verinai needed to be exposed,” he said. “How could I not finish the cause my brother died for?”
She st
epped close to him. “Some may have condemned your actions, but you acted with honor.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m honorable?”
Suddenly nervous, she laughed. “I admit nothing.”
He laughed in turn and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her back. “I admit everything,” he said.
The kiss sent shudders down her frame, and she wrapped her arms around his powerful shoulders. The seconds passed and she refused to withdraw, the extended contact only heightening her need. When he finally retreated, her head spun and she caught the balcony railing for support.
“I look forward to more of those,” he said.
“As do I,” she said fervently.
He grinned and kissed her again, before stepping back to the door. “Go,” he said. “Claim our victory.”
“Take care of Devkin,” she said.
“I swear it,” he replied.
She embraced him and then descended the stairs to the ground. After the events in Verisith she’d carried a crushing weight, but now it had vanished. She made her way through the village and paid for a horse, unable to keep the smile from her face. Abruptly eager to reach Dawnskeep, she mounted and flicked the reins, sending her steed north.
She drove her horse hard, and slept only when her body required it. She still wore the pendent of Alethean, and retained the persona to keep any questions at bay. Her smile remained throughout the weeklong journey.
She paused at an inn in Rualia to rest and clean up, not wanting to arrive soiled and reeking from the journey. At dusk the next day she reached Horizon, and she reigned in her horse on a nearby hill.
The daily sun had filled the top of Dawnskeep with light, making it resemble a grand lighthouse. The sun set behind it, making the beacon all the brighter. Alydian’s smile faded, wondering how the people would react when they learned that Teriah had betrayed the council. Many of those in power would consider Alethean the rogue mage, but the people would finally know the truth.
Abruptly reluctant to speak to her mother, she took her time descending the slope, entering the city just as the gates were shut for the night. She slowed as she neared Dawnskeep at the heart of the city, and used her farsight to see that the Verinai would be watching for both Alethean and Alydian. She dismounted near a hidden entrance to the fortress and sent a hummingbird of light into the sky.
Several minutes later a faint scuffle erupted behind the wall, and then a door opened to reveal Ferin and Toala standing over an unconscious Runeguard. Alydian darted to them and they shut the door. In the dim light she grinned at them.
“I take it things went well?” Ferin whispered.
“I have the memory,” she said, and then briefly outlined the events in Verisith. When she finished her friends nodded soberly.
“Grogith had his secret but he was always loyal,” Ferin said.
“I’m sorry to hear of your mother,” Toala said. “Do you wish to speak with her first?”
Alydian slipped into her farsight and saw her mother was asleep. “No,” she said. “Let her have a few final moments of peace before I share the truth of her illness.”
Never delay a difficult task.
Devkin’s words came back to her but she shoved them aside. She knew she should go directly to her mother but wasn’t ready to face her, not yet. It would mean accepting Teriah’s betrayal. Instead she blinked into her farsight and stepped to Raine’s tree, pleased to find her reading in the great library.
“Raine is in the library,” Alydian said. “She’ll help me summon the other oracles.”
“We’ll take care of your horse,” Ferin said. “It’s good to have you back.”
Toala abruptly embraced her, and Alydian smiled, returning the gesture. Then she nodded to them and slipped away. She bypassed the Runeguard by using her farsight and caught an ascender to the library. It was late, and the tower had been shuttered to the public. Making her way through the great bookshelves, she breathed deep of the scent of pages and ink, her smile widening at the sense of security it inspired.
Alydian spotted Raine in her favorite chair by a hearth and wove her way around the tables. Raine looked up at her approach, whereupon Alydian reached up and removed the pendant. Raine’s eyes widened, her question dying on her lips.
“Alydian?” she asked, rising to her feet.
Alydian laughed and sank into a seat across from her. “You should sit, for I have a tale to tell.”
Raine grinned and resumed her seat, listening intently as Alydian shared the story of her becoming an acolyte, and what she’d learned of the Verinai. Raine’s smile quickly faded, her expression darkening the more Alydian spoke. When Alydian finished with what she’d done in Verisith, Raine stood and began to pace.
“I can scarcely believe what you have done,” she said.
“It’s true,” Alydian said. “And Mineva’s memory proves it.”
“May I see it?” Raine asked.
Alydian withdrew the orb and held it aloft, and Raine accepted it, activating it with a touch. Mineva’s voice filled the library and the image of her assassinating King Talin appeared. Raine watched it for only a moment before she ended the magic and turned to Alydian.
“You have no idea what you have done,” she breathed.
And threw the orb into the fire.
Chapter 46: The Rogue Mage
Alydian stared in shock as the glass orb shattered against the stone, the memory consumed by the flames in a distorted burst of light and sound. Her eyes flew to Raine to find the woman’s eyes on her, her expression one of pity.
“Why?” Alydian breathed.
“You may be an oracle,” Raine said. “But you do not behave like one.”
“Do you have any idea how much I went through to get that memory?” she cried. “How much it cost?”
Raine shook her head. “The cost of keeping that memory would be far greater.”
“How can you say that?” Alydian demanded, her anger causing fire to spark across her arms. “Do you even know the war the Verinai are waging?”
“The Accord?” Raine asked. “Of course I know.”
“How do you know about—”
“Because I signed it.”
The admission rocked Alydian back. Raine was her friend, a woman as close to family as her own mother. She’d taught Alydian the honor of being an oracle, how their identity was to serve the people. They were protectors of every race and life, and Raine had always spoken with such fervor that Alydian could recall the moments in perfect clarity.
“How could you sign it?” Alydian asked softly. “It goes against everything we stand for.”
“We stand for protecting the people of Lumineia,” Raine said. “But they don’t want to be protected.”
“Of course they want to be protected.”
She laughed, her tone laced with scorn. “A hundred years before your birth a warlord rose to power in eastern Griffin. For months he pillaged without mercy but the king refused our aid—or that of the Verinai. His troops were helpless to find him, and the man grew bolder with every week. When the king finally let us help, we found the man in three days, and the Verinai ended his reign of terror.”
“Criminals rise like weeds,” Alydian said.
“Yet the kings allow them to flourish,” she said.
“That was one event,” Alydian protested. “You cannot judge the whole of humanity on the foolishness of a single man. You cannot expect perfection.”
“It’s not just the race of man,” she said, her voice hardening. “Ten years later a dwarven general lost a son to an orc bandit, and sparked a war that resulted in tens of thousands dead.”
“One dwarf—”Alydian began but Raine cut her off.
“He didn’t care that the orcs were not at fault, he blamed his son’s death on the entire race. When we finally negotiated peace the rock trolls stepped in, their king attempting to take advantage of the disorganized orc nation to expand their lands.”
“Rock tr
olls do not care about land.”
“No,” she said. “But just one in power was enough. Don’t you see? The races cannot be trusted with power, for they inevitably abuse it.”
“I cannot believe the elves would behave in such a way,” she said.
“Then you know nothing,” Raine said, her voice mocking. “On the surface our people are fair and generous, but those in power veritably worship intrigue. Their pride rivals that of the Verinai, and many of the poor suffer in their pursuit of perfection.”
“Even if what you say is true,” Alydian said. “The Accord gives power to the Verinai, and turning the races into a Mage Empire would grant them even more.”
“True,” she conceded, “but for all their faults they understand their place. They believe themselves better than the people, their guilds, and even the kingdoms . . . but they respect the oracles.”
“You think they will serve you?” Alydian demanded. “They are brutes with power, and it will only be a matter of time before they come for the Eldress Council.”
“Have you forgotten who we are?” Raine asked. “We will see it coming.”
Alydian saw the unwavering confidence in the woman’s expression, and realized she would not yield. Raine truly believed her own words, and was committed to creating a Mage Empire. Realizing the effort to convince her would be futile, Alydian straightened.
“You cannot do this without the council,” she said. “I will speak to them, and they will never agree with you and Teriah.”
“They already do,” she said.
A chill spread on Alydian’s flesh. Raine voice filled with pity, and all at once Alydian saw the past councils in a new light, of the other oracles biding their time until Elenyr died.
“You have all betrayed your oath,” Alydian said in horror.
“Don’t you see?” Raine asked. “Only your mother stood against us, and now that she is dying, you will be alone.”
“I will never join you.”
The vehemence to her statement robbed Raine of her smile, and for several moments the two regarded each other. Raine’s expression carried a trace of pity mixed with surprise, as if she’d thought Alydian would simply agree. Still grappling with the realization that the entire Eldress Council had betrayed their oaths, Alydian wanted to flee, to escape from what she’d thought was home.