She took a breath. “All right. What if Piven is Valisar?”
Kirin clapped and grinned. He leaned over and kissed the the top of her head in his excitement. She returned his grin. “Clever, Lily. But more so, clever, clever Brennus and Iselda!”
“You’ve gone mad, you know that, don’t you?”
“Well, I could be laughably wrong but history tells me that the Valisars have been a secretive lot down the ages. Freath once said that he’d never met a more furtive man than Brennus. What if the whole notion of Piven as an orphan was one enormous and elaborate lie to protect the second heir to the throne?”
Lily shook her head with wonder. “Who would know?”
Kirin looked equally awed. “No one, I don’t think. Everyone who might know is probably now dead. Perhaps only Freath is still standing who was close enough to the royals to share some secrets but I truly believe Freath was honest with me.”
“You can’t be sure—”
“No, I can’t. But the more I consider it, the more likely it seems that Brennus and Iselda masterminded a devious plan to give absolute protection to Piven at birth. Perhaps what they didn’t count on was his illness. He was an invalid and that offered a mea sure of protection that Leo could never have enjoyed. Loethar liked the child, treated him as a pet.”
“But the ruse obviously worked, then,” Lily remarked.
“Spectacularly! Loethar didn’t feel threatened by Piven; no one felt threatened by Piven. He was considered fondly by all—even our infamous enemy.”
“All right, I’ll go along with this. Let’s say Piven did do this trammeling.”
He nodded.
“Tell me how a youth who, according to Leo, has the mental capacity of an infant, can achieve what you’re suggesting?”
Kirin’s face clouded. “That is my stumbling block. There are only two possibilities. The first is that someone else is controlling Piven’s actions.”
She looked doubtful. “Another person showing him how to hack off someone’s hand, eat the flesh and bond another man to him? I can’t imagine it.”
“Neither can I,” Kirin agreed.
“So what’s your other suggestion, although I suspect I can guess,” she said disdainfully.
“Go ahead,” he invited.
“You now want me to believe that somehow in the intervening years of his disappearance, Piven has overcome his disability and is now a rational, intelligent fifteen-anni-old youth, strong enough to overpower a man and do this terrible deed.”
“That’s about the sum of it,” he admitted.
She nodded, saying nothing for a few moments and they rode in thoughtful silence. “Why would Piven want an aegis?” she finally asked, thinking aloud.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to fathom. How does he know about one, how did he find one, why would he do this?”
“Did you come up with answers?”
He looked at her doubtfully. “Only suppositions, I’m afraid. It’s illogical, but the only rationale I can put together is that Piven either inherently knows, or has always had the ability to absorb information and thus understands the legend of an aegis and had the capacity to trammel him.”
Lily bit her lip in thought. “But, Kirin, why? Why would he do this?”
“Fear. If he understands the concept of the aegis, he understands his own vulnerability at Loethar’s hands if his new sanity is discovered. He needs protection.”
“But he was living in obscurity, obviously. Why would he come out into the open now?”
Kirin shrugged. He looked deeply perplexed. “I don’t know. I really wish Clovis were alive to tell us what happened.”
“So where are we going? We’ve come full circle. Why not back to the palace?”
“I now believe my cover no longer matters. I think Piven has nothing to fear anymore.” He turned and regarded Lily.
She looked dumbstruck. “You are jesting, aren’t you?”
He shook his head sadly. “Why not? He’s unstoppable. Lily, perhaps you haven’t grasped the magic I speak about. A whole army cannot penetrate the defenses of an aegis. If I’m right, Piven is now untouchable.”
She looked at him, feeling her stomach sink. “Untouchable?”
“If he’s decided to take the throne, not even Loethar’s cunning or the might of his tribes can match the power that an aegis has to resist their onslaught.”
Lily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why are you running, then? Isn’t a Valisar on the throne what we’ve all been trying to achieve?”
“This is the wrong Valisar. And that aside, he’s killed Clovis, which means he’s likely acting purely in his own interests. Clovis was no threat and Piven, if his mind is as sound as we’re suggesting, should have been able to work that out. He must have his own reasons for grasping the throne—if that’s his plan.”
“So he’s a new threat, you think?”
Kirin shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, Kirin, we have to find out. We are the best placed to do this. You have good reason to be at the palace. Have you ever done anything that could possibly offend Piven?”
“I don’t believe so. I don’t even think he’d be that aware of me.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. We must turn back and head for Brighthelm. Where were you going, anyway?”
“I was taking you back to Kilt Faris,” he said softly.
“Oh,” Lily replied, feeling awkward. She wasn’t sure she was ready to return to the north. Her feelings were very confused; she needed time to think through everything.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course,” she snapped, “but this is more important. Let’s find out what’s happening in the capital and take that information back to Kilt. He’ll know what to do with it. Besides, even your Freath won’t know all of these developments yet. I imagine he’s making his way back to Brighthelm now and you can warn him, or share everything you’ve discovered.”
“You’re right, of course,” Kirin said hesitantly. He looked reluctant. “Lily, you don’t have to do this.”
“Listen, Kirin. This is not about me or what I want…or even us, our safety. We’re involved in something much bigger and we have to play our part.”
He nodded. “All right. If you’re sure…”
“I am. We’ve come this far. We might as well use the cover we’ve set up to find out as much as possible.”
Kirin hauled on the reins. “Back we go to the city, then.”
Lily ignored the inner voice that accused her of duplicity. She was insisting upon this move entirely for the sake of Leo and the safety of all those she loved…especially Kilt.
Have it your way, the voice of conscience sniggered, but Lily banished it, returning Kirin’s sweet, almost shy, smile, as he urged the old horse around and headed them back in the direction they’d just traveled.
Thirty-Six
Roddy could hear the gulls again. The pressure of the air had disappeared, leaving a soft sea breeze that blew around him with a carefree abandon, tousling his hair and reassuring him that a sense of normality had arrived. Except it hadn’t. The remnants of pain throbbing at his temple told him that he had not imagined the build-up of a powerful magic. And Ravan, crouched before him, told him much more.
“Ravan,” he finally whispered.
His companion sighed and Roddy watched him take a long, slow breath before he unfolded his limbs and straightened to stand erect. “Yes,” he answered in a scratchy voice.
“Is it really you?” he asked, staring at the willowy man.
“Yes, but I don’t understand it.”
“Cyrena said you were on a new journey. This must be what she meant.”
Ravan finally opened his lids and regarded the youngster through deep blue eyes. Trails of pain seemed to still tremor through his body. “Yes, but why?”
Roddy shook his head and shrugged. “You still look a bit like your old self.”
Ravan act
ually laughed but it came out like a squawk. He felt his face. “I’ll have to improve on the qualities of being a man—learning to laugh, for instance.”
Roddy watched him touch his nose. “No beak,” Roddy offered. “Actually, you are very fine and handsome. You look fearsomely strong.”
“I’m also naked,” Ravan replied dryly. “That must be fixed!”
“You can have something of mine,” Roddy said, “but I think you’re too tall.”
“I know where I’ll find clothes.”
“Where?”
“In the hut where Sergius lived. Follow me.”
Roddy hesitated. “Can you change back?”
Ravan shook his head. “If I can, I don’t know how. This way,” he said, pointing. “I hope you have good balance.”
“The best,” Roddy answered and grinned.
“I’m impressed how calm you are with all this death and magic.”
“I’m frightened by it but I feel as though I’m meant to be here. I’m not sure I can bear to look at Sergius, though.”
“We will honor him shortly. For the time being avert your gaze.”
Inside the bare hut, which Roddy noticed Ravan seemed to know his way around, his friend grabbed a blanket and pulled it around him.
“What about clothes?” he asked, wondering why Ravan was sitting down and staring at a bowl in the middle of an otherwise cleared and scrubbed table. “What’s wrong?”
“Roddy, how much do you know about magic? Your own magic, for example?”
“I don’t know that I have any.”
“You do. I can sense it. And Cyrena confirmed it.”
“I know I’m different from the other children, that’s all.”
“Do you trust magic?”
Roddy nodded, keenly aware of his trembling hand.
“Do you believe you can trust me?”
“Cyrena told me I can…and I trust her.”
Ravan tried to smile and Roddy could see he found it difficult, as though he needed time to get used to his new senses and abilities. “I trust her too. So did Sergius. So with Cyrena our common bond, let us here and now pledge trust in each other. I will never do anything to harm you.” He held out his hand straight, palm up.
Gravely, Roddy placed his trembling hand on top; they linked thumbs and then in the Set manner of sealing a bargain, they rotated their hands so that Roddy’s was now on the bottom.
“Done!” Roddy said.
Ravan echoed his sentiment. “Done.”
“Why does that bowl fascinate you?”
“Because I know what it means. Do you see its contents?” Roddy nodded. “That is called firedust. The dust is imbued with a powerful magic, which, when it is cast into a flame, will reveal something. I imagine Sergius has left behind a message for me.”
“And when you burn the dust we can see the message?” Roddy asked, catching on.
“Exactly. It must have taken much of his strength to cast the dust. To my knowledge he has never used it before but he did tell me about it not so long ago.”
“Perhaps he knew his time was coming.”
Ravan nodded sorrowfully. “I wish he could have told me.”
Roddy looked over at the embers in the hearth. “Shall I get the fire going again?”
“Thank you. I’ll find something to wear.”
Both set about their tasks. Roddy immersed himself in rebuilding the small fire, so much so that he was surprised when Ravan finally spoke again.
“Yes, Roddy, I think we can safely say that Sergius knew his time was coming.”
Roddy turned to see his new friend dressed, not in clothes that looked makeshift or belonging to an old man, but that seemed unused, even new. “He had these prepared for you.”
“I never saw Sergius wear any of these items, so I have to assume so. They are new and I think it’s a small note of humor.”
Roddy smiled. “Well, you look good in black.”
Ravan swelled his chest. “It all fits well enough too.”
“You’re moving better and your voice is smoother. I think you’re getting used to your new form.”
“I will miss flying.”
“I would too,” Roddy agreed, his tone sympathetic and almost wistful as he imagined what it might be like to leap into the air and ride the winds. He shook himself free of the thought. “The fire’s ready.”
“Good, stoke those flames. I’m sure Sergius mentioned to me that the higher they burn, the better the result.”
Roddy nodded and tossed more kindling onto the fire. The flames leaped in response. Ravan reached for the bowl.
“Are you supposed to say anything…cast a spell or something?” Roddy asked.
Ravan smiled. “I don’t know any spells. Ready?”
“Go ahead,” Roddy said, sitting back and holding his breath. Ravan picked up the bowl and without hesitation threw its contents into the flames. They blazed purple, spitting and crackling and Roddy smelled a strange but not unpleasant fragrance. He hugged his knees close, utterly fascinated, but not frightened…not now that he had Ravan.
And out of the crackling purple haze he spotted a shape coalescing. As it drew itself together he began to recognize it.
“It’s Sergius,” Ravan confirmed, lowering himself as though weak. He knelt next to Roddy and Roddy could feel his friend trembling.
Sergius shaped himself fully in miniature. Looking out from the glow of purple that surrounded him, his expression was apologetic.
“Ravan, my oldest friend. If you are listening to me now, it means I am dead. I am sorry for that—for leaving you alone, I mean. My death will trigger three events. I have much to tell you, so listen carefully as you can only hear this once. I dreamed that you would bring a visitor and that although you regarded him as a friend, he was actually an enemy to me. This is no fault of yours, Ravan. What ever thoughts may be darkening your soul I beg you to release them. Whoever he is, he meant you no harm and what ever he offered you, he did so in good faith. When he sees me, though, he will recognize me as a danger and he will act accordingly. I hope you found the clothes I left for you? I can’t be sure they’re your size but I have a good feeling they’ll fit. Sergius chuckled, no doubt thinking of the color of the garments, and his amusement made Roddy glance at Ravan, who looked as if his heart was breaking. Roddy leaned closer but Ravan didn’t take his eyes from the image of his old mentor. I wish I could see you. You have been made in Cormoron’s image. Later, you must look at your reflection; I hope you approve. And while I am sure you feel disappointment in me for withholding this secret from you, let me assure you that I didn’t know, Ravan. This was Cyrena’s secret; it was revealed to me in a dream and only in the last few days. I have been dreaming a lot! He smiled gently again. Why is this necessary? He shrugged. I do not know. Perhaps, dear Ravan, she is simply returning you to what you always were…a man. I cannot enlighten you any further. This is your journey.
Sergius paused momentarily and Roddy thought he seemed to take those few heartbeats to gather his thoughts. He straightened, lifted his head and sighed.
And now, here is what you must know. My death will trigger a message to a man far away from here. His name is Corbel de Vis and although you have never seen him, you will know of him. He is the twin brother of Gavriel de Vis. Ten anni ago a baby was born; it was the eve of the invasion of Loethar’s horde and King Brennus knew the child would be killed if found by the barbarian, or would likely perish if he tried to hide it. With his struggles to sire surviving heirs, Brennus was not about to let any child of his die if he could help it. Instead, midway through the queen’s pregnancy, he came to visit me here. He told me he had dreamed of Cyrena and that she had led him to this place. He had experienced this dream repeatedly since the queen had first announced her pregnancy. We talked at length, sharing several pots of dinch, and we agreed that while neither of us knew why we were connected through his dreams, that he would await a sign. The dream seemed too powerful, too repetitive and too
much like how Cyrena works for me to ignore its significance. I knew if she was communicating with Brennus, she would find a way to instruct him. And she did, presumably, because while he was dreaming of me, I was dreaming of Corbel de Vis. I didn’t know why or what it signified but I have learned to trust these events, knowing they would show their true meaning in time.
Sure enough, the king must have been given a sign—although I am not privy to what it was—and on the night before Corbel de Vis arrived at this spot, I myself dreamed he would bring a child that needed protection, protection of the most magical kind. I gave it and Corbel de Vis disappeared not long after he arrived, into the sea. He took a Valisar princess into those depths with him, and while I have never seen them again I am aware that a mighty magic occurred that stormy night. I was the channel for the magic that sent this pair to safety, we hope, away from our world.
Sergius paused and smiled softly. I know you have questions, Ravan, but I cannot answer them. I simply have to hope that what I tell you is enough. He nodded. So, to continue, I mentioned that three events will have been set in motion at my death. The first event, as I said, is that Corbel de Vis will have felt my passing as a message to return. How he will do that, I have no idea, but I suspect you, dear Ravan, will be connected with it and I pray to our goddess that you are ready. The second event you are already well and truly aware of. You have transformed into a man. I have only ever known you as a raven so I cannot tell you whether you were originally a man. That is for Cyrena to explain. But you will walk in this mortal form from my death. And, finally, my death will bring Cyrena to you. She can only reach us at times of change in the magical balance of our world and only when those times of change are connected with the Valisars. And be wary, Raven—others will feel the presence of this magic, friends and enemies alike.
Sergius held out his hands, palms up. And so that is all I can tell you, Ravan. Where you go now I do not know, although I suspect you will be guided by outside forces. The princess must return safely to Penraven and she must be guarded, her identity kept secret, particularly from the person who caused my death. He is an enemy now, until balance can be restored…if it can be restored.
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