Unbroken Chain (single books)

by Jaleigh Johnson

  “We’ll make this right,” Vedoran said. “I’ll present the evidence to Uwan, and Ashok will be dealt with, I promise you.”

  Ilvani looked at the parchment in her hands and said a series of words Vedoran didn’t understand. The parchment floated up from her palm, hung in the air for a breath, and vanished.

  Vedoran caught his breath. “What did you do with them?” he cried.

  “Safe,” Ilvani said. “They’re safe in the Ashok box until needed.” She looked at him, a hard set to her face. “Time to go,” she said.

  A woman made of stone, Vedoran thought. He realized he wouldn’t get her to change her mind. He briefly cursed the loss of the evidence, but perhaps it was meant to be.

  Who better to make the case before Uwan, than the woman whose life Ashok’s people had ruined?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ashok awoke to a dull throb at the back of his skull. He was on his feet, blind, and breathing hot air. It didn’t take him long to assume the rest.

  He was in a cell, chained deep in the caves behind the forges. Maybe it was Chanoch’s cell. He couldn’t tell for the hood covering his face. There were no sounds; the room was absolute silence and cold.

  In a flash of morbid humor, Ashok remembered the cleric’s words to him, when he’d first woken in Ikemmu.

  Perhaps someday you’ll see how we treat our prisoners. Prophecies abounded in Ikemmu.

  You have no one to blame but yourself, Ashok thought. You should have left the city when you had the chance. But you didn’t really want to escape, did you? Ever since he’d ridden out of that cave and left the slaughtered members of his enclave behind, he’d been looking for punishment in place of absolution. He’d betrayed his own people, and he’d betrayed Ikemmu by not confessing the truth.

  Ashok only hoped, before it was all over, that he would be given the opportunity for that confession. If they left him alone in the dark, forgotten, he would fade away and still bear the shame.

  No. It wouldn’t happen. Uwan would come. Ashok knew the leader would be there in the dark, at some moment. He hadn’t left Chanoch alone.

  Ashok closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he was aware of the lingering ache in his shoulder. His hands were numb from being held above his head. A tingling sensation ran down his arms. And he was cold, so cold all over, except where his breath was trapped inside the hood.

  They were none of them sensations that he cared to think about. All were associated with a lack of feeling, a frozen state from which he couldn’t emerge. Ashok stomped his feet hard just to feel the shock go up his legs. He twisted his body from side to side as best he could, trying to coax some feeling back into his limbs, but the chains were suspended so tightly he had trouble drawing a full breath.

  He tried to remember the journey back to Ikemmu, but his mind was choked with fog. There were snatches, bits of conversation where his name had featured prominently, but he couldn’t remember the words. He hoped Tatigan had reached the surface and his caravan safely, and he enjoyed the brief regret that he would never see what the world of Faerun looked like. He imagined that it would be a place full of people like Tatigan and Darnae, and that gave him comfort.

  Some time passed, and perhaps he slept, but more likely Ashok thought he drifted in and out of stupor. Once a guard came into his cell with a bucket and helped him to relieve himself. Ashok was faintly grateful for not having to soil himself, but the guard never removed the hood, and Ashok felt it was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life.

  The next time the door opened, Ashok didn’t detect the heavy tread of the guards, but a single set of footsteps. They stopped in front of his cell. Whomever it was, Ashok could hear their slow indrawn breaths, and feel the contemplative silence with which the stranger regarded him.

  “Well met, Uwan,” Ashok said.

  “The guards tell me you’ve been restless,” Uwan said. “That’s a good sign. If you’d been subdued, we’d have had to move you somewhere else. We won’t risk you fading.”

  “So I haven’t been condemned yet?” Ashok said. He turned his head to follow Uwan’s pacing outside his cell, though it was a futile gesture to try to see through the hood.

  “Not yet,” Uwan said. His tone told Ashok that it was a foregone conclusion. “The evidence is being gathered.”

  “By Vedoran,” Ashok said.

  “Yes,” Uwan replied, and he stopped pacing. Ashok heard his hands moving over the bars. He could picture the leader deciding how much he wanted to say.

  “Ask your questions,” Ashok said. He’d been waiting for the moment, and felt a profound relief that the time had finally arrived. “I’ve nothing left to hide.”

  “Is it true?” Uwan said. “Did you kidnap Ilvani?”

  “No,” Ashok said. “Not directly. My father ordered the attack on the scouting party. I was sent out of the city to track down a pack of shadow hounds that had been harrying us. Between them and Ilvani’s party, we were surrounded.”

  “A wise tactical decision,” Uwan said. “Your father is a shrewd leader.”

  “My father was a butcher,” Ashok said. There was no passion in his words, but they were no less true for the lack of feeling. “He sacrificed my brothers to each other and to the rivalry within the enclave. We had a heavily fortified position in those caves; we didn’t have the constant threat of attack, and we launched no offensives against other enclaves.”

  “So without any enemies to fight, your own people became the threat,” Uwan said.

  “We fought amongst ourselves, took any excuse to stave off the shadows,” Ashok said. “When I came to this city and saw the arms you displayed, I thought, what an impossible challenge, to launch an attack against your forces.”

  “You’d found exactly what you needed to pull your enclave together and focus its attention on a new enemy,” Uwan said.

  “And maybe I could stop slaughtering my brothers,” Ashok said. “Yes, that was the goal.”

  “Why didn’t you go through with the plan?” Uwan asked. “Vedoran and the others … You had them all together on your home soil. Why didn’t you give them up?”

  Ashok sighed. His entire body was numb, and he was weary from speaking while only drawing half breaths. He needed pain, something intense to focus his thoughts. He hadn’t felt so desperate in a long time. “I know what you want me to say,” he said. “You want me to say that it was Tempus’s will. It wasn’t.”

  “Then why?” Uwan said, and for the first time anger broke through his carefully restrained tone.

  “Because I had never known trust, or what it meant to fight with comrades who would defend me to the death, until I came here,” Ashok cried. “I didn’t want to lose that, so I attacked my own people. I used the nightmare to slaughter them.” He’d done no better than Reltnar. He’d acted out of the same desperate need to feel alive.

  “You rescued Ilvani,” Uwan said. He seemed to be speaking to himself. “But that isn’t enough for the Beshabans. They want you executed, so they can prove the fallibility of Tempus.”

  “By Ikemmu’s law, I should be executed,” Ashok said.

  “We await the evidence,” Uwan replied.

  “I’ve offered my confession,” said Ashok.

  “Enough!” Uwan cried. Something metal-his sword perhaps-slammed against the cell bars and rang loudly in the quiet chamber. “I’ve heard nothing.”

  “You can’t deny what you know,” Ashok said. “It betrays everything you believe. You’ll go mad.”

  “Not for this,” Uwan declared. “You had a choice, and you made it. You chose the way of Ikemmu.”

  “You may forgive me,” Ashok said. “But the shadar-kai cannot afford to forgive.”

  Uwan laughed bitterly. “Is that why you do this? To taunt me with my own words? You’d throw your life away to prove that I was wrong about Chanoch?”

  “You’re wrong about many things,” Ashok said. “Chanoch was one casualty. Vedoran was another. You’ve done him and ot
hers like him a great wrong.”

  “And now I’m paying for it,” Uwan said. He sighed. “I know. Tempus aid me, I know that I’ve brought this upon myself. He tried to warn me. My god tried to tell me what you would mean to this city, but I didn’t understand. Now it’s too late.” He was silent for a breath then said, “Natan is dead.”

  Ashok had thought he had no emotion left in him, but when he heard that he sagged against the chains.

  “It will destroy her,” Ashok said.

  “It may already have,” Uwan said bleakly. “She disappeared as soon as she returned to Ikemmu, when they brought you back in chains.”

  “What happened?” Ashok said.

  “Natan was murdered in the chapel,” Uwan said. “We discovered his body hidden in an antechamber soon after you left the city with Tatigan. Vedoran claims you are responsible. He accuses you of killing Natan when he had a vision of your treachery. He says that you planned to escape to the surface.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Ashok said.

  “I thought not,” Uwan said as he began to pace again. “But the damage is done.”

  Ashok closed his eyes. He wished he could sleep. He’d never desired oblivion more. “So it was all for nothing,” he said. The one good thing he’d tried to do in getting Ilvani out of that nightmare place, all undone.

  “You’ll spend one more night here,” Uwan said. “Tomorrow at the Monril bell you’ll be taken to the top of Tower Makthar, and Vedoran and the Beshabans will present their evidence against you. They’ve rallied a large number of supporters to their cause, more than I thought possible. However I rule, it will divide the city. But if I judge you guilty, you’ll be brought back here to await your death by the shadows.”

  He started to walk away. Ashok called after him, “You can’t ignore the evidence. If you act according to your emotions, you’ll lose the peoples’ faith. Then the Beshabans will be able to act, with the full support of the discontent shadar-kai.”

  Ashok heard Uwan stop at the door. He knocked on it for the guards to let him out. “You’ve a tactical mind equal to your father’s,” he said. “I say this as a compliment, though I know it gives you little comfort.”

  The door closed, and Ashok was alone in the dark again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ashok slept in fits, dreaming of hounds and running across the Shadowfell plains. His muscles woke him screaming with cramps. He broke out in a cold sweat until the pain and tightness subsided. Invigorated, he could not sleep again for a long time.

  When he hovered again at the threshold of peace, he heard the door to the chamber open, and soft footfalls came toward his cell. It was not the guards, nor Uwan’s purposeful stride. It was much lighter, faster, like an animal avoiding prey.

  He waited for the creature to identify itself by sound or smell. Maybe one of the hounds had escaped from its pen and come looking for a meal. Ashok was not afraid. He’d been chained in the dark too long. His heart beat sluggishly, and he could not bring himself to turn his head when the creature approached the bars.

  “Wake, little toad,” said a familiar voice, one that made Ashok jerk his head around, though he couldn’t see her face.

  “Ilvani?” he said. Hope may have made him delirious. “Is that you?”

  The witch whispered a word, and Ashok heard his cell door swing open. Her footsteps approached, and Ashok felt her small fingers touch his chest.

  “Where have you been?” Ashok said. “Uwan … Everyone’s been looking for you.”

  “It speaks,” Ilvani said. Her palm grew warm, penetrating the deep cold that had spread over Ashok’s body. Hotter and hotter, her hand began to burn him. “It should know when to be silent.”

  Her other hand touched his face. She pulled the hood off him. Ashok blinked at the sudden light. When he could focus again, he saw that Ilvani looked paler and thinner than ever. Her face was streaked with dirt. Her hand where she touched his chest glowed gold and scorched his flesh.

  Ashok writhed in pain. He was alive again, but he pushed aside that feeling and forced himself to breathe, to speak through the pain. “Are you all right?” he asked. “What happened to you?”

  “I’ve made a box,” Ilvani said. “A box for Ashok. To keep all his lies safe. Do you know what’s in that box?”

  Ashok could smell his own flesh burning. He tried not to gag when he answered. “The maps … the notes. I did lie to all of you. I-”

  “It admits what it did wrong,” Ilvani said, in a tone of mocking surprise. “But I’m still going to put your ashes in the box. You’ll stand in for all the others.”

  “You mean your companions. The ones who didn’t come home,” Ashok said. He gritted his teeth as she moved her hand, crept it up toward his neck. “I’m sorry for what was done to you and your people. If I could have stopped it, I would have.”

  “Would your lies have stopped it?” Ilvani demanded. “Would your pictures? You were going to kill us, just like you killed them.”

  “No,” Ashok said. “Your companions-I swear they didn’t die by my hand.”

  “Swear on your flesh!” Ilvani screamed, and she ground her hand against his chest. Ashok cried out in agony, but he didn’t try to pull away. He leaned into her touch, endured the pain, and waited until he’d composed himself enough to speak again.

  “I was … a different person … when I wrote those things,” Ashok said. “I didn’t know you and Uwan, Skagi, or Cree. I never knew a city like this existed. I wanted it to be … my home. So I lied. I tried to bury my past, but it didn’t work.” The searing in his chest made it impossible to concentrate. “I never meant harm … to you.”

  Abruptly, Ilvani removed her hand. The intense heat disappeared, but his chest burned with every breath he drew.

  “What was Natan?” she said in a cold, dead voice. “He was the only one left. No boxes, no bad memories. You told me I should see him.”

  “I wanted you to,” Ashok said. “Ilvani, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t kill him. I swear on my soul.”

  “You put him in a box,” Ilvani said. Her body trembled. Ashok thought she hadn’t been so close to breaking even when she’d been in her cell in the slaughter room. “I told you he wouldn’t fit, but you made it happen.”

  “No,” Ashok said. She took a step back, but he strained toward her. He wished he could break the chains, but he had no strength; he couldn’t focus his mind to teleport.

  Ilvani raised a hand as if to stave him off. Her palm continued to glow, filled with magic. Ashok bent his head so his forehead touched her fingers. He felt the burning heat, power barely contained.

  “Do it,” he said. “Finish it.”

  She caught her breath, but she didn’t lower her hand. “Why?” she said, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’re trying to store more lies.”

  “No,” Ashok said. “But if it’ll ease your suffering, then do it, Ilvani, kill me. Do it for both of us.”

  “You don’t mean it,” she said.

  “I don’t want you to put yourself in a box,” Ashok said.

  She slapped him. His cheek burned and went numb. His eyes watering, he tried to lean into the heat, but she backed away.

  “You’re false!” she cried, pacing before him like a starved, half-crazed cat. “You’ll die when I say.”

  “Do what you have to do,” Ashok said.

  She sprang forward and raked her nails across his chest, shredding flesh. Ashok’s body convulsed. He groaned as the fire lines bled, and the wetness ran down his torso.

  “Fight back!” Ilvani screamed. She grabbed his hair and jerked his head to one side. She laid her burning fingers against his neck. Ashok couldn’t find the breath to scream and sagged against the chains.

  “Not yet,” Ilvani said. “The darkness can’t have you yet. I’m not done taking your ashes.”

  Ashok’s head lolled to the side. He bit his lip and tasted blood. He tried to speak, but his throat burned. His entire body was on fire.

&
nbsp; “What did you say?” Ilvani asked, stepping closer. Her fingers hovered before his eyes. Ashok watched the glowing points and waited for her to blind him. “Speak,” she commanded.

  Ashok’s body begged for the release of unconsciousness. He tried to follow her voice out of the long, dark tunnel. “I said … Take them all. All the ashes. I want …”

  “What?” Ilvani said. “Say it.”

  Ashok closed his eyes. “Forgiveness,” he said. The darkness surged in to take him.

  Ilvani stared at Ashok’s mutilated body. He was not dead, but the pain had made him sleep. In a rare flash of pragmatism she recognized that she would need to summon healing, or Ashok would not live to face his trial.

  Is that what she wanted? With clarity came confusion, fear. What had she done? Punished a murderer. Confronted the deceiver with his lies. Judged the guilty.

  “Is it guilty?” she said, but of course Ashok couldn’t answer her. She had only the answers he’d given her earlier to judge.

  He’d denied nothing, except killing Natan and her companions. At the thought of her brother, Ilvani went away for a while, into a fugue place where she could be safe. In that place there were no thoughts or pain. She’d discovered the small world within her mind while she’d been imprisoned.

  When she came back to herself, she was walking up the tower stairs to her quarters in Tower Athanon.

  How long had she been away? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know what had become of Ashok. Had she told the healers to see to him?

  She reached in her satchel and took out the evidence she’d taken from Vedoran. When she got to her quarters she locked her door, lit a candle, and carried it up the ladder to the window seat. By the faint light she read the evidence again. If she didn’t read certain books or papers often, the words tended to rearrange themselves so she could no longer understand them. She had to keep watch over the pages carefully so they didn’t try to trick her.