Asha shifted. “People like Breshada don’t often find themselves in her situation, either,” she observed.
“Hmm.” Laiman turned his gaze back to the overgrown road ahead. “Perhaps. I do not suggest stopping your lessons. Just … do not let your guard down.”
Asha nodded, though her mind was already elsewhere. This was the first serious conversation she’d had with Laiman. Perhaps the man was finally relaxing.
“Have you had many dealings with the Gil’shar, over the years?” she asked casually.
Laiman shrugged. “On and off.”
Asha waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. She snorted softly. “You’re a wealth of information, Master Kardai,” she said drily.
“Please.” Laiman gave her a displeased look. “If you want answers, why not simply ask?”
Asha was silent for a few moments.
“Very well,” she said eventually. “Let’s start with why you’re here.”
Laiman gave her a puzzled look. “The king wanted a representative of his—”
“We both know that’s not true,” said Asha quietly. She watched Laiman’s face carefully. The others were all still far enough ahead, well out of earshot. If she was ever going to bring this up, now was as good a time as any. “How do you know Taeris?”
Laiman shifted, but still looked confused. “Taeris Sarr? He’s the Representative for Tol Athian, and I’m an adviser to the king,” he said in bemusement. “Our paths cross now and then.”
Asha grunted. She was tired of this—tired of being suspicious, and not feeling as if she had much choice in the matter. “You can do better than that, Thell,” she said in a low voice.
Laiman’s posture and expression didn’t change, but Asha was watching closely enough to see the flicker of shock in his eyes.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” he said slowly, “but you’re mistaken.”
“Then you won’t mind if I start asking around, referring to you by that name?” asked Asha.
Laiman stared at the ground for a long few moments as their horses clopped along, the slightest tightening of his jaw the only sign he had even heard.
“Here and now is not the place for this discussion,” he eventually said softly. “Ask me again once we’re finished in Deilannis. We’re not more than an hour away now.” He looked up at her, and she could see that it was the best he was going to offer.
Asha hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod of acknowledgment.
Laiman watched her grimly for a second, then spurred his horse to catch up with the others without saying another word.
Asha lay on her stomach alongside the others, shivering as she looked down through the gap in the trees into the mists of Deilannis.
Davian and Wirr had both described the place to her—but the city, surprisingly, felt closer to Wirr’s version at first glance. The way in which Davian had talked about it, Asha had assumed that Wirr’s image of it was colored by the assumed loss of his friend. But she realized now that Davian had spent weeks there, had grown less fearful of the mists.
It wasn’t hard to see that the fog was far from natural. Even from this distance the thickness, the way it clung to the faint outline of buildings as if to conceal even that from sight, sent chills down Asha’s spine. There was something unsettling about the entire picture. Something that stirred a deep-seated unease in her.
“What are we looking for?” she asked Breshada quietly. The Hunter had gone on ahead as they had approached the rise overlooking the city and had immediately cautioned them to leave their horses behind and approach quietly.
“Wait,” was all Breshada said.
A few moments later Asha spotted the motion, and from the sharp intakes of breath from beside her, she could tell that Laiman and the other Gifted had as well.
Slithering out from behind a series of large boulders down below—close to the beginning of the long, supportless white bridge—was a dark figure, relatively small from this vantage point but still easily discernible. Its black scales drank in the early afternoon sunlight as it glided across the gravelly ground, leaving a long, dark furrow in its wake.
A few seconds later there was more motion and the first figure was joined by two more as they emerged from behind a curtain of foliage.
“Dar’gaithin,” murmured Laiman, dismay evident in his tone.
“We should just wait for them to leave,” said Charis, adjusting her red cloak nervously. Mutters from Tyrin and Lue echoed the sentiment.
Asha shuddered as she watched the purposeful movements of the creatures. “I don’t think that’s going to be an option.”
Breshada dipped her head in acknowledgment. “They are standing guard,” she confirmed. “From what I have observed, one patrols, whilst two stay nearby the bridge.”
“There must be a way to get past them,” said Asha, brow furrowing as she studied the monsters below. The incline down to the flat area in front of the bridge was steep, and they would need to use one of the paths cut into the hillside to descend—but those appeared at regular intervals along the cliff, including one or two stairways in the distance that could well be out of sight from below. It was getting onto the bridge itself that was the problem. “Can we sneak by?”
“There is no way to reach the mists without being seen,” said Breshada. She touched Whisper’s hilt lightly. “But there are six of us. If we time our attack, take the two by surprise, then we can deal with them.”
Laiman shook his head, glancing at Breshada’s blade. “I’m sure you’re very good with that thing, but the rest of us combined wouldn’t stand a chance against even one of those creatures. They are bigger than they look from up here—nine, ten feet tall—and fast. Powerful. Their scales act like armor, not to mention absorb Essence.” He gazed down at the bridge worriedly. “I actually think Ashalia’s suggestion is our best move.”
Breshada glared at him. “And how do you propose such a thing?” She shook her head. “Our only option is to strike, and strike hard.”
“Or we could just turn around,” said Lue quietly. “I know this trip is important, but if we can’t even use Essence against those things …”
There was a long silence.
“What if we could distract the two at the bridge? Draw them away?” Asha swallowed, suspecting that she was going to regret suggesting this. “If they were chasing one of us, surely the rest would be able to get to the mists before they returned.”
“Suicide,” said Laiman immediately, and even Breshada nodded her agreement. “They’re too fast.”
Asha hesitated, then reached into her pocket.
She reluctantly drew out the Veil.
“I have this.” She touched the silver torc to her arm.
She heard a gasp from at least one of the Gifted, and both Laiman’s and Breshada’s eyes went wide as they just stared at the spot from which they would have seen her vanish.
“A Vessel?” asked Laiman softly as Asha deactivated the Veil again.
“You can move about freely as long as it’s activated.” Asha shrugged at his expression. “I know, but I didn’t really want to give it back to Administration.”
Laiman stared at her dazedly for a few more seconds, then shook his head wryly. “I can imagine.” His gaze moved from Asha’s face to the Veil and then back again, and suddenly there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “That won’t work once you’re on the bridge, though,” he added.
“I will use it,” said Breshada abruptly. “With such an advantage, I can certainly kill all three.”
Asha frowned. “You don’t have to risk—”
“Distraction is not a bad idea, but in this scenario there are too many variables. What if only one of those guarding the bridge pursues? What if it takes too long to lure the two away, and the third returns? Or if you cannot lure them far enough, and they still see us crossing the bridge? If they have the patience to guard and the intelligence to patrol, then we cannot assume that they will be easily fooled.” Br
eshada said the words flatly. “Not to mention that if we do not deal with them now, we will have no choice but to do so on the way back.” She locked gazes with Asha. “Sometimes, the most direct approach is best.”
“She’s right,” said Laiman quietly to Asha as she hesitated. He stared down through the trees as the sole dar’gaithin set off again, its patrols appearing to be at consistent intervals. “I don’t much like it, either, but your Vessel will give Breshada an enormous advantage. It’s this or go home, and I haven’t come this far just to turn back.”
“Then it is settled,” said Breshada before Asha could protest.
Asha paused for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded and handed the silver torc to Breshada. She’d had it for so long now, it felt strange to think of being without it … but Breshada’s analysis had been accurate.
And—invisibility or not—she wasn’t exactly upset that she didn’t have to encourage two armored, nine-foot-tall snakes to chase her, either.
“All right,” she said quietly, taking a deep breath as she studied the steep hillside in front of them. “Let’s figure out how to do this, then.”
Asha’s heart lurched as one of the dar’gaithin that she could see stirred, turning its head and staring in the direction from which the third creature was now overdue to appear.
She and the others hadn’t moved from their position at the top of the cliff, but Breshada had activated the Veil and vanished down the nearest set of stairs close to half an hour ago. The Hunter had decided to deal with the patrolling dar’gaithin first, and the creature’s continuing absence suggested that she had succeeded.
Suddenly there was a spasm of movement down below as one of the dar’gaithin flailed backward; it was hard to tell at this distance but Asha thought that she could see dark, viscous fluid spurting from one of its eyes. Its companion stared at it for a split second and then whipped around wildly, tail lashing out with blinding speed as it swung at the air, backing desperately toward the bridge. A few seconds passed, and then the second dar’gaithin’s head snapped to one side.
It fell, twitched a few times, and then lay still.
As Asha and the others watched, Breshada blinked into view at the entrance to the bridge, calmly wiping her blade on the nearby grass. Then the Hunter looked up, giving a showy bow in their direction.
“I think she’s telling us it’s safe,” said Laiman drily.
They cautiously picked their way down the crumbling, overgrown stairs, soon rejoining Breshada at the bridge. As Asha approached, the Hunter cheerfully tossed the silver torc to her.
“Simple,” was all she said, a note of satisfaction in her tone.
Asha gave her a wry smile, pocketing the Veil and then shivering as she gazed at the scale-covered bodies lying motionless nearby. Breshada’s blade had taken one of the monsters in the mouth, and the other in the eye; every other inch of their bodies was covered by the dark, heavy scales that Asha immediately recognized from her encounters with the Blind.
“Let’s not delay,” said Laiman, sounding as uneasy as Asha felt as he eyed the corpses. “The sooner that we’re away from here, the better.”
No one objected, and they started quickly across the smooth white bridge. The thundering of Lantarche below was loud here, even with what looked like at least a hundred-foot drop to the white, churning waters below. The bridge was wide but it had no railings; despite the polished look of the stone underfoot, Asha was relieved to find that it provided a comfortable amount of purchase as she walked.
They soon reached the thick, enveloping mists, Asha shuddering as the air suddenly felt heavier, damp and harder to breathe.
They had been in the fog for less than thirty seconds when someone gave a shriek of terror.
The scream was quickly joined by another panicked shout; before anyone could react, both were abruptly cut off. There was a blur of distorted motion toward where Lue and Charis had been walking up ahead, and for a moment, Asha couldn’t make sense of the confusion of silhouetted shapes in the white murk.
Then something was rolling toward her along the ground, not properly visible until it was only a few feet away.
Charis’s decapitated head stared sightlessly to the side, the trail of blood it had left nearly black against the cold white of the bridge. The base of her skull had been caved in, the blow that had killed her probably the same immensely powerful one that had ripped her head from her shoulders.
There was only chaos after that.
Everyone was yelling, but the murky fog and then, somewhere, Breshada drawing Whisper muted the sounds, making everything happen in a surreal hush. Dar’gaithin—Asha wasn’t sure how many, but she thought there were only a couple of the creatures—flitted around the bridge, blurry silhouettes whose tails cut through the mists with blinding, horrific speed.
Asha shakily drew her blade as a red-cloaked body went airborne past her and over the side of the bridge. Then a massive, sinuous shape emerged from the mists ahead, the dar’gaithin’s gaze bright and greedy as it fixed on her.
She made herself remember what Breshada had taught her. Stayed calm. Balanced. There was no running, not from this. Attack, and hopefully the surprise of someone resisting, was her only hope.
She lunged forward, her blade streaking toward the creature’s mouth, the largest of the three possible targets.
The dar’gaithin reacted, moving slightly to the side, quicker than she could possibly have anticipated.
Her strike screeched off the side of its face, not even scratching the creature’s light-drinking armor.
A moment later its tail was slamming into the small of her back, and there was a sickening crack as something broke. She felt her blade spin away into the abyss as she flew through the air herself, landing with an explosion of breath several feet away and sliding even farther.
There was more numbness than pain; she tried to stop her momentum as she skidded, but her legs weren’t responding.
Instead she slid, painfully slowly, over the edge of the bridge.
Shouting and twisting desperately, she managed to snare the very edge with her right hand, then swung and grabbed on with the left as well. She tried to pull herself up but her legs still wouldn’t move, and there was nothing further on which to grab.
As she hung there, her grip started to weaken.
In the background, the shouts had stopped, and she could see Breshada’s dim outline as the Hunter wrenched her blade from the face of one of the monsters. Had she managed to kill them?
“Help,” she gasped, though the wind had been knocked from her and it came out as little more than a wheeze. “Help.”
Movement registered to Asha’s left, and she turned her head to see Laiman staggering through the mists. He saw her, and their eyes locked.
For a long, horrifying moment, the king’s adviser hesitated.
Asha’s grasp on the bridge slipped farther; Laiman came to a decision and scrambled toward her, skidding to his knees.
It was too late. As Asha desperately tried to will her muscles to move again, to reach up and grasp Laiman’s outstretched hand, the last of her purchase was suddenly gone.
She fell.
Chapter 34
Wirr steeled himself, then knocked at his mother’s door.
It would have been an understatement to say that he wasn’t looking forward to this meeting; Geladra’s outright hostility at the Tel’Andras estate was still fresh in his mind, and Wirr had no reason to think that she would be any less difficult to deal with here. He knew all too well that he couldn’t afford to put it off, though. If Geladra gained control of Administration, it would be an unmitigated disaster for the Augurs—and subsequently for Andarra. What had already been an unpleasant personal conflict was now far more than that, and there was no way he could avoid it.
The door opened, and there were a long few seconds of silence as Geladra saw who it was.
“Torin,” she said eventually, reluctantly moving back from the door. “Come in
.”
Wirr entered. “We need to discuss what’s going on,” he said without preamble.
Geladra gestured for him to sit. “So you’ve heard, then.” She sat opposite, seeming just as wary and tense as she had been at the Tel’Andras estate. “To be honest, unless you’re here to step aside, I’m not sure that there’s much left to say.”
Wirr pushed down an immediate flush of frustration, maintaining his outwardly composed demeanor. “I know that things are not exactly well between us, Mother, but we cannot let that spill over into affecting something as important as the running of the country. At least be willing to talk about this. I don’t want to fight, and I certainly don’t wish to place Deldri in this position.” He said the words calmly, matter-of-factly, trying to convey the truth of the situation rather than sound accusatory or aggressive. He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “But I should also say from the start—my stepping aside is not going to be on the table.”
He held her gaze, doing his best to project his determination. Since Taeris had told him of his mother’s intent, he’d had a short amount of time to consider what it really meant to him. How he felt about the possibility that he might no longer be Northwarden. Despite his difficulties in dealing with Administration, his position had never been seriously in doubt until today … and this current situation had crystallized something in his mind that he had not, perhaps, fully acknowledged before.
Northwarden was his role now. Administration was his organization. He’d worked hard to reconcile who he was with this new position, had thought at great length about how he should lead, and had been painstaking to make sure that all of his decisions were the right ones given his mandate. He’d been unwavering in his commitment and had fought bitterly to put his father’s legacy to its best uses, no matter what anyone else believed.
And as Taeris had said, what he was doing here was making a difference. Difficult, perhaps—but good.
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