The Prison of Buried Hopes (After The Rift Book 5)

by C. J. Archer

  "We weren't sure," Dane said.

  Taaj cleared his throat. "Do you not have the gem? Is that why you didn't ask Brant to wish for your memories to return? Because he couldn't without it?"

  "They did have it," Kitty said. "But someone stole it."

  Taaj's brows rose up his forehead. "Do you know who?"

  Dane shook his head.

  "We couldn't trust Brant to wish selflessly," I told Taaj. It was important that he knew he was helping worthy folk, not greedy ones like Brant and Barborough. "That's why Dane didn't tell him where he hid the gem. Brant couldn't be trusted not to use a final wish for his own gain. But as Kitty says, we no longer have the gem anyway. It was stolen. Your information is helpful but useless."

  "Is there no other way for them to regain their memories?" Meg asked. "Can they strike a deal with the sorcerer?"

  Taaj's bells tinkled as he shook his head. "The sorcerer is not a thing to be bargained with. It is not a human with thoughts and wishes, hopes and dreams, disappointments. Its magic is complex and vast, yet its rules are simple. The finder of the gem receives three wishes. Those wishes cannot be used to create more wishes, they cannot be used to make the wisher immortal, and they cannot be used against the sorcerer. When the three wishes are all used, the gem mysteriously disappears, to be found again by the next fortunate person."

  "So we must find Brant for the wishes and the thief for the gem," Meg said, watching Max.

  "Do you know who might have it?" Taaj asked.

  "No," Dane said. "It's most likely someone back in Glancia who found it and thought it a pretty jewel."

  Taaj sighed. "Pity."

  "Thank you for your time," Dane said. "We appreciate you not asking for too much in exchange for the information."

  Taaj smiled. "My pleasure. It has been an interesting and enlightening experience meeting you. I have learned more from you than I could ever hope to learn in my lifetime from books. You have confirmed my life's beliefs, and for that, I am truly grateful." He bowed. "I have also learned how magnificent the sorcerer is. To change the geography of an entire continent to fulfill a wish is proof of the sorcerer's power."

  We agreed, although no one displayed the same level of enthusiasm and awe as Taaj. It was one thing to simply study magic without being touched by it but quite another to have one's life changed because of it.

  "Where are you staying?" Taaj suddenly asked. "I might think of something else that could be useful to your quest."

  Dane gave him the name of an inn we'd passed on our walk to Taaj's shop, not the one where we stayed. None of us corrected him.

  Outside, no one answered Quentin or Erik's questions. Dane asked them to wait until we were safely back at the inn. We remained alert as we headed there, looking out for constables who might recognize us, as well as Taaj in case he followed us, and Brant.

  Now that we knew he wasn't lying about possessing the wishes, we'd be one step closer to success if only we could convince him to join us in searching for the gem. How we'd keep him from using the third wish for his own advantage was a point that required further discussion before he could be reunited with the gem.

  Balthazar looked exhausted by the time we reached the inn. He sat heavily on the bed in the room we all crowded into and rubbed his knee. Dane and Max relayed to Quentin and Erik everything Taaj had told us, but I tuned out and joined Balthazar on the bed.

  "Are you all right?" I asked.

  He gave me a weak smile. "I will be."

  "Are you tired? Do you want us to leave you alone to rest?"

  "I want you to pass me the map."

  I frowned. "Why? We know the way home from here."

  "Just pass me the map, Josie." He pointed to the tube made of whale bone on the floor in the corner of the room.

  I fetched it and handed it to him. He removed the lid and tipped out the rolled map. Instead of spreading it out on the bed, he set it aside. Then he reached his hand into the tube and pulled out a thin, circular piece of wood and set that aside too. He reached in once more, up to his elbow, and withdrew a small object.

  The gaps between his fingers glowed.

  I gasped so loudly the others fell silent and turned to me.

  Balthazar opened his hand to reveal a gem the color of freshly spilled blood, pulsing and glowing softly as it drew on the magic contained within its victims.

  Chapter 15

  "You've had it this entire time?" Quentin cried.

  Theodore groaned. "Balthazar, how could you?"

  Balthazar dropped the gem back into the map tube and replaced the false bottom to hide it. "It was safer to have everyone believe it was stolen."

  "Safer?" Max snarled.

  "While Dane was the only one who knew of its hiding place in Mull, his life was in danger. Or, more specifically, the lives of those he cared about." Balthazar didn't look at me, but I felt the weight of his words nevertheless. "Brant, or anyone who wanted the gem, could have threatened to harm someone to force Dane to give it up." He lifted his gaze to Dane. "What would you have done? Let Brant or Deerhorn harm Josie? Or give up the gem?"

  Dane's cold glare forced Balthazar to look away.

  "This way, no one could be made to give it up because no one knew who possessed it," Balthazar went on. "I don't regret my decision to take it. Anyway, what does it matter who has it or where it has been this entire time? It's useless without the wishes."

  "Brant has the wishes," Max snapped. His big chest heaved with his deep breaths, as if he'd just fought a hard battle. “He could have wished for our memories back by now.”

  "You know why we couldn't trust Brant," Theodore said. "I think Bal did the right thing."

  "I agree," Erik said. "This changes nothing. We did not know that Brant had the wishes for certain until today. At least we do not need to return to Mull to find the gem. We have it here. All we need to do is find Brant and tell him to use a wish to return our memories."

  Quentin agreed. "Considering Brant followed us from Glancia to Vytill, he shouldn't be too hard to find again. He'll be looking for us."

  Max crossed his arms. "You should have told us, Bal."

  Balthazar replaced the lid on the tube. "We still have the same problem as before—how do we stop Brant from using the third wish for his own selfish purposes? We cannot afford to have another Leon on our hands."

  "So what do you propose we do?" Meg asked.

  No one had a suggestion and eventually most gazes fell on Dane. I was painfully aware that he hadn't spoken since Balthazar revealed he had the gem. The firmness of his jaw gave away his thoughts on that, but he did not voice them. Not even when the silence became suffocating.

  It was Balthazar who eventually broke it. He'd been the only one who hadn't turned to Dane for a solution. "I wanted to be sure before suggesting this, and now I am. Taaj's information convinced me."

  "Convinced you about what?" Quentin asked.

  "He confirmed that Brant inherited the wishes by killing Leon. That means Brant's killer will inherit the wishes."

  I gasped. "Bal, no."

  Kitty covered her mouth and Meg paled. "Dear Hailia," she muttered. "You can't."

  "I needed to be sure," Balthazar said again. He had thought this through. Not just since leaving Taaj's shop, but for a long time. Perhaps from even before he stole the gem. Indeed, I suspected this was why he had stolen it in the first place.

  Balthazar patted my hand, as if confirming my thoughts. "I needed to be absolutely certain that Brant had the wishes and that his killer will inherit the remaining two. We now know that to be true."

  "Who'll do it?" Quentin's question, spoken in a small voice, filled the room as if it were as loud as an explosion.

  He was the first to look to Dane. Once again, the others followed suit.

  "That's not fair," I snapped. "Dane can't have that on his conscience. None of us can. Nobody should—"

  "I'll do it," Balthazar cut in.

  "I know you think it's the honorable th
ing to do, but think about what you're suggesting, Bal. It's murder."

  "For the greater good."

  "It's still murder!"

  Balthazar heaved himself to his feet with effort. "My decision is made. There'll be no more discussion on the matter."

  "But—"

  "Enough, Josie!"

  I pressed my lips together and appealed to Theodore. Theodore cleared his throat and took up the protest.

  "She's right," he said. "If you kill Brant, it will weigh on your conscience, Bal. I can't allow that."

  "We can't allow it," Dane added.

  "You don't get a say in what I do," Balthazar said. "That's enough about Brant for now." He indicated the door. "Let's go downstairs. I'm hungry and thirsty."

  The others filed out ahead of us, but Balthazar asked Dane and me to remain a moment.

  "You're still angry with me," he said to Dane.

  Dane grunted. "Am I that easy to read?"

  "Your jaw is so hard I could break rocks on it. Go on. Out with it. Berate me for stealing the gem and lying about it so we can go downstairs and enjoy our meal."

  Dane crossed his arms and settled his feet apart. He peered down his nose at Balthazar, who looked every bit like a little old man next to him. It was almost laughable to think he planned on killing Brant. The former guard would overpower him in a moment.

  "You should have kept me informed," Dane said. "We're on the same side."

  "Are we? We don't know a thing about ourselves, let alone each other."

  Dane bristled. "I know who I can trust. I thought I could trust you."

  "I like to think I can trust you too, but can I? Who are you, Dane?"

  Dane shifted his weight. His gaze flicked to me then back again. I opened my mouth to come to his rescue, to tell Balthazar that I trusted Dane completely, when Balthazar spoke first.

  "You're half-Glancian, half-Freedlandian. Do you have an allegiance to one nation over the other?"

  "Does it matter?" I asked.

  Balthazar ignored me. He only had eyes for Dane. "You're educated, good with a sword, knife, on horseback, with your fists. You're charming when you want to be and have a fierce temper when things don't go your way."

  Dane's gaze slid to me again. "Have you two been talking?"

  "To be all of those things is…intriguing at best, worrying at worst."

  "Worrying?" I prompted. "In what way?"

  Balthazar sighed and lifted one stooped shoulder. "I'm not entirely sure. There's something about him. Something out of the ordinary. He's too…"

  "Perfect?" I asked.

  "No," they both said at the same time.

  "It's difficult to explain, but I just have a feeling that something's strange about him," Balthazar said. "It might be something good. We cannot be sure until his memory returns or until we find someone who knows him."

  Or it might be something bad, he could have said, but did not.

  Dane eyed Balthazar closely, and I suspected his temper bubbled away just beneath the surface, ready to boil over. "The warrior priests are all those things too," he pointed out.

  "And I don't trust them. Dane, it's not personal. I don't even trust myself at this point. Does that make you feel better?"

  "No." Dane strode out of the room, leaving Balthazar and me behind.

  Balthazar indicated I should take his elbow and walk with him. "He'll calm down eventually. He might even come to agree with me. It's not personal, Josie," he said again. "You know that."

  "Saying that it's not doesn't make it so. It is personal, Bal, and you've hurt his feelings. He trusts you. Or he did before you stole the gem from under his nose."

  "He shouldn't have trusted me."

  "He has known you for months. He has lived and worked with you every day. That's long enough to make the right decision about your character."

  "That's where you and I shall have to disagree."

  We headed down the steep stairs, going slowly as Balthazar kept one hand on the railing and I held on to his other arm. I could see the others waiting for us through the open door to the dining room. To my surprise, Dane was with them. I thought he'd stormed off in a fit of temper and needed to cool down.

  Balthazar must have seen my surprise. "You soften him," he said quietly. "Why do you think I asked you to stay back just now? It wasn't because I wanted your opinion. I already know it. It was to stop him from making me feel like Quentin after a session in the training yard."

  Dane suddenly looked up and his gaze connected with mine. There was no anger in his eyes now, no stiffness to his back or jaw, just the forlorn look of a dog that had been kicked by his master.

  It took me a moment to realize that Balthazar's words had sunk in, just as they were sinking in for me. Perhaps Balthazar was right and Dane was too good to be true.

  Perhaps the sorcerer had conjured him after all, to keep Leon safe.

  The dinner conversation was subdued. Aside from one brief decision that had to be made, we avoided all discussion of the gem and Brant. The decision to remain in Noxford a little longer in order to find Brant was made quickly and without debate. We all agreed that finding him was a priority now.

  The following morning, while the men wore their hoods and kept their faces obscured, Kitty, Meg and I made sure our blonde hair was visible. Glancian women were a rarity in Freedland, so we hoped word would spread quickly of our presence. If Brant were in Noxford, he would hear and come looking for us.

  Hopefully Lord Xavier hadn't come with him. Facing Brant was never an easy task, but facing them both wasn't something I wanted to do, even when surrounded by armed men.

  We headed into the market and moved around the town square. We loitered outside the high temple, but with Balthazar's hood flipped up, there was no opportunity for the priests to recognize him. Discovering his reason for coming to Freedland was no longer a priority anyway. Getting back their memories was more important.

  The day drew on and still there was no sign of Brant. Our little party grew restless with frustration. All except Dane. He remained alert, his hand resting on his sword hilt, his gaze scanning the shadows growing longer as the day wore on.

  "He's not here," Quentin declared as he sat on the edge of the large fountain in the middle of the square.

  Balthazar sat beside him with a groan. "I think you're right. He would have come forward by now."

  "Unless he's too frightened," Meg said. "He's just one man and he knows we dislike him."

  "Should we split up?" Theodore asked Dane.

  Dane shook his head. "We need to stay together. Someone's following us."

  We all looked around the square. I spotted several men standing alone who could be watching us, but I couldn't be sure and Dane didn't point any out.

  "So what do we do?" I asked.

  "Wait for them to declare themselves. If it were me, I'd make a move in the dark."

  "Do you think it's Brant?" Quentin asked.

  Dane merely shrugged.

  Max put a hand to his sword hilt and stood beside Dane. "Who else could it be?"

  As the sun slipped below the city's buildings, the square emptied and folk moved to the surrounding streets where food sellers plied their trade. Bakers sold pies from shop windows and honeyed nuts could be bought by the handful from hawker's carts. Theodore discovered he adored figs, while I tried as many exotic Freedlandian dishes as I could, as did Meg. Kitty screwed her nose up at everything that looked too different and refused to try a thing.

  The city seemed to come alive in the evening. Perhaps the warmer weather made it more conducive to strolling through the streets when compared to Glancia. Cool autumn nights seemed alien here.

  "Oh look, fire dancers," Kitty said, nudging Erik with her elbow.

  Erik didn't follow the direction of her pointing finger to the group of scantily clad men and women dancing with fire sticks. Like Dane, Max and Quentin, he watched the people around us, alert for anyone following.

  As darkness descended, mo
re entertainers emerged to the delight of the growing crowd. It wasn't just fire dancers, but singers and musicians, poets and orators. More than one politician drew an audience of both supporters and detractors. The two sides sometimes jostled one another, or shouted over the top of the orator, but that was as vigorous as it got. Even the large group led by supporters of the current high minister that walked through the streets, shouting their leader's virtues and policies, was met with nothing worse than fist shakes and shouted rebuttals. It made Mull's riots seem barbaric.

  "This is truly an amazing country," Meg said as she watched the rally pass us by. "They've come a long way from their revolutionary days."

  I stepped back as one of the high minister's supporters suddenly thrust out his hand. But it merely held a leaflet that he shoved at me before passing another to Theodore. "I can't imagine such a peaceful rally happening in Mull," I said. "Or Tilting, for that matter."

  "Nor Merrin Fahl," Kitty added. "And the Vytillians consider themselves the most civilized of all the Fist countries."

  Meg watched the procession with wonder. "This is civilized. Freedland and its people are remarkable."

  I looked at Dane to see if he'd taken note of the procession too, but he was intently watching the crowd from beneath his hood.

  I knew the moment something was amiss when his eyes flared. He darted forward, pushing me aside as he did so. "Get back," he growled.

  As if they'd been commanded, Max, Erik and Quentin fell in alongside Dane and went to draw their weapons, but stopped on Dane's barked order.

  "What is it?" Max asked, squinting into the shadows of a recessed doorway. "Did you recognize Brant?"

  "Not Brant." Dane ordered Max and Quentin to stay with us then he and Erik dove through the crowd and disappeared from sight.

  I stood on my toes to see where they went, only to receive a sharp jab in my ribs. I swung around and gasped. "Lord Barborough!"

  "Don't scream," he said. "I have you surrounded."

  As if a veil had been lifted from my eyes, I now spotted all his men. There must be almost a dozen of them, all dressed in the clothes of Freedlandians. I'd wager they were Vytill palace guards, come all the way from Merrin to capture us and take us back to King Phillip.