“Yes, but when it overturned, the quilt fell over the trapdoor. The gods are protecting you. It will take me most of the day to clean up.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No. It isn’t safe. The guards were in the village almost all night. There are still a few posted on the road. I don’t want to risk you being seen.”
“You’re a kind woman.”
Nenya stared at Ilythra. “You said she was poisoned.”
“Yes.”
“The guards said the king’s bride had been kidnapped. Did you kidnap her?”
“You’re asking me if I took her against her will. No. But then, she didn’t have much will left. The poison stole her will from her. At least, as far as I can figure.” He glanced down at Ilythra’s pale face.
“You love her.”
Mohan stared at Ilythra. He had come to love her. Maybe his prayers for a sister had finally been answered. “Not in the way you mean, but yes. I love her.”
Nenya started. “I’d better get busy. I’ll bring you something to eat at midday.”
Mohan nodded as Nenya climbed up the stairs and lowered the door to the cellar. It was going to be a long day.
* * *
Sometime after Nenya brought the midday meal, Ilythra sat up, blinking.
Mohan had been leaning against the bunk, half dozing, but twisted to grasp her hand. “It’s okay.”
“Mohan?” The word was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Her fingers moved against his. “I’ve been dreaming.”
“Something like that.” He stroked her hair from her forehead.
“Where are we?”
He smiled. “Hiding in the cellar of a very nice woman.”
“Should have known there would be a woman involved.” She half smiled. “I’m thirsty.”
By feel, Mohan reached for the gourd and brought it to Ilythra’s lips. She took a few sips.
“Is it dark in here? I can’t see.”
He chuckled. “It’s dark.”
“No, something still isn’t right. It feels like...” She sat up straight and clutched her tunic. Her eyes went wide. “What happened? Ilydearta!”
“Shh, Ilydearta is safe.” He tried to press her back onto the fur and hoped he told the truth.
“Safe? Mohan, you don’t understand.” Already her voice faded.
He lowered her back to the cot. “I do, Ilythra, more than you know. Trust me, it’s safe.”
Her eyes closed. “Where?”
He hesitated. “With Melior.”
“What?” Her voice thickened, grew rough.
“Melior has the necklace,” he said, but she was already asleep.
* * *
“Your Majesty, we’ve searched the village. Nothing.”
Erhard sighed. “Thank you. Keep guards posted along the roads.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the soldier. Glancing at his fist full of colorful cloth, he wondered, for a moment, why he didn’t feel angrier. In fact, he was weary. Erhard leaned forward and opened the sash. “A Benai.” A Benai had kidnapped Ilythra. He hadn’t let go of the offending garment since the timid maid had presented it to him, stating she’d found it in the pocket of Ilythra’s dress. But why was it in her pocket? “A clue left behind?” He couldn’t bear to think of his bride in the hands of... Erhard blinked as his thoughts blurred. Ilythra was a warrior, wasn’t she? He rubbed his temples, wishing more than ever Bredych was here to explain things to him, but the counselor had left before the woman found the sash. Bredych traveled north with a group of his Rugians, following some evidence that Ilythra had gone that way.
Erhard sighed again, this time one of relief. Bredych would find her. His counselor would take care of things. He always did.
* * *
“The stone, Mohan.” Ilythra couldn’t find the strength to raise her head, but she had to know.
Mohan leaned closer. In the gloom, his eyes caught the faint light. “I put it in your medicine bag. By now, Melior is taking it far away.”
She blinked. Ilydearta was gone. A crushing sense of defeat settled on her chest, stole her breath. She sunk deeper into the hard surface beneath her. Everything she’d worked for. Everything she’d been trained to do centered on that stone. It was her life. Her purpose. “Then it is lost,” she whispered. I’m lost.
“No. It’s not.” Mohan grasped her shoulders. “He will get it to safety.” There was urgency in his tone.
She turned her face to the wall. She felt Ilydearta’s absence in every part of her body. Hollow. I’m empty. There’s nothing left. A sob built in her chest, the pressure increasing until she thought she might explode with it. But she wouldn’t let it out. She didn’t deserve to cry, to find solace in tears. She’d failed. Failed her grandfather, failed Zeynel. But most of all, she’d failed herself. There was no more reason.
“You said he’d find us by the stone. You needed a chance to recover.” Mohan’s voice had taken on a pleading note.
“In saving me, you may have lost everything.” She closed her eyes and wept.
* * *
Ilythra leaned against the dirt wall, staring into nothing. How had it come to this? One of the bands of light on the wall grew larger. Mohan reached for his sword. She didn’t move. Nenya descended the few steps into the small cellar.
“Milady.” Nenya curtsied.
She stared at the woman. Memories faded in and out like distant dreams, too ethereal to grasp. Nenya. Shame tinted the apathy. “I’m no more a lady than you are, Nenya. Please, call me Ilythra.” Nenya inclined her head.
“I’m glad to see you awake. I brought some bread and stew.”
Mohan took the bowl and handed it to Ilythra then stuffed some of the bread in his mouth.
Nenya glanced from Mohan to Ilythra.
“How’s the baby?” Ilythra asked as she stared at the stew. She had no desire to eat.
Nenya’s face broke into a wide smile. “Just fine, playing now with some pieces of fabric.”
“Is he that old already?” There were so many gaps in her memory. A sliver of fear rippled her skin. She tried to put seemingly disassociated pieces of her time in Greton together.
“Starting to sit up, mi...Ilythra.”
“I hope we haven’t put you or the baby in too much danger.” But I have. Oh gods, the stone. Where is it?
Nenya glanced at Mohan again.
Ilythra handed the uneaten bowl of stew to Mohan without looking at him. A part of her knew it wasn’t his fault. The stone had been given to her. She was its keeper. She could vaguely remember wanting to be rid of it. Waymaker. Had Ilydearta found a way to do even that?
In her arrogance, she walked right into a trap. Bredych had been waiting for her. And oh gods, this woman’s husband. She reached for Nenya’s hand. “I have some bad news.”
Nenya stared at the ground. When she looked up, her eyes glistened in the faint light. “I figured already. If the king was drugging you, then he wasn’t gunna keep his promise about Res.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears thickened the words.
“Isn’t anything you or I can do but go on.” A single tear slipped down her face but she quickly wiped it away.
“Are there still guards on the road?” Mohan asked.
“Yes, but not so many. Rumor is they’re looking up north, toward Elston.”
Ilythra glared at Mohan.
He shrugged. “The horse ran off that way.”
Pain lanced her chest as she gazed at the Benai. She looked back to Nenya. “Do you think it’s safe to leave?”
Mohan answered, “We don’t have a horse and you’re not very strong. I say we wait.”
“The longer we’re here, the more lik
ely they are to find out Nenya is harboring us.” The low ceiling didn’t allow her to stand, but she rose to her feet and, hunched over, made her way to the opposite wall. Weak but mobile. “What part of the day is it?”
“Morning,” Nenya answered.
Ilythra nodded. “At dark, we leave. There is no reason for us to linger.” No reason at all. She glanced at Nenya then Mohan.
The Benai nodded his head, but his eyes were guarded.
Chapter Forty-Two
A chorus of howls echoed in the deepening twilight. Bredych sat before their campfire and stared at the flickering flames. Once again, he closed his eyes and stepped into the winds of Teann. Ilydearta’s song was close, but indistinct—unlike anything he’d experienced with any other keeper. He opened his eyes. The flames roared as they climbed into the sky, consuming the wood with a hungry passion and echoing the emotion surging through his blood.
Bredych took a deep breath to calm the anger. He never lost control. This was his second night under the moon and he was no closer to the keeper. How had she evaded a pack of wolves whose desire was to kill? He’d been clear on the image he’d given the creatures. Kill any man or woman on a horse. To whom had she given the stone? Did he or she possess unknown magic? And yet the keeper wasn’t making his or her way out of the valley.
Was the keeper wounded? Mad? And the final consideration that filled him with anger: Could it be somehow a false trail, and Ilydearta was elsewhere? He was uneasy and confused. An unacceptable situation.
They were now in the forest between the kingdoms of Elston and Greton, but in reality not far from Greton’s castle. They’d been going in circles. He stood, and the Rugians stood with him. They were weary, he could see it, yet they would not slumber until he gave them leave. And if he thought traveling all night as well as all day would produce his goal, he would have driven them and the horses to their deaths. But he was no fool. He made a small motion with his hand, and half of the Rugians disappeared into their lean-tos.
Bredych nodded, satisfied. They were on guard. He glanced once more to the darkened forest and found his own bed.
* * *
The moon rode low on the horizon like a ripe orange shimmering in the night sky. Ilythra hugged Nenya and pretended not to notice when Mohan slipped a few gold pieces into her apron pocket as he said his farewells.
They’d decided to stay on the north side of the road in the thick forests, avoiding the snow that still lingered in the shadows. Mohan watched her constantly for signs of fatigue; she could feel his gaze on her and knew, no matter how many times she told him she was fine, that he didn’t completely believe her. Not that she blamed him. She didn’t believe herself. Every once in a while, the fog would slip back over her brain and she’d forget what they were doing, a fatal mistake on the run.
After they’d left the village far behind, Mohan finally broke the silence. “How long are you going to be angry with me?”
Ilythra kept walking. “I’m not angry, Mohan. I’m just sad, overwhelmed, weary.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I know. I can’t blame you for it, it’s just...the stone is my responsibility. I don’t know what to do now.” Who am I without it?
“That doesn’t have to change.” She’d never heard him so serious. “Find the Siobani like you planned.”
Shock stole her voice for a moment. “What?” She faced him.
“I sent Melior to find the Siobani.”
“You what? How?”
“He should know the way.” Mohan sounded like he was talking to himself. He turned to her. “I’m pretty sure that’s where he came from.”
Disbelief transformed into hope. “How do you—”
“I am Benai.” He was silent for a long time. “The Benai are an ancient race. We have long memories. But it is a secret we hold as sacred. I would have told you earlier.”
Something clicked. “All this time, you knew who I was looking for and where they were.” She backed up a couple of paces. “And you didn’t tell me? Why?”
“I wanted to speak to the wise woman first, and then Tarak...” Mohan’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Anger at the Benai blurred her vision. “If you had any idea...” Her voice broke. “I thought you were my friend. I went to Greton in hopes of finding a way to—”
“Did you?” He stood. “I am your friend. Friend enough to tell you straight-out that if a Siobani detained you on the path with an engraved invitation, you’d still have gone to Greton.”
That wasn’t true. “No. I—”
“Remember for just a moment how determined you were. I begged you to come see Taliba one more time.”
“The pass would have closed.”
“And?”
“You didn’t tell me why you wanted me to see her!”
“It wouldn’t have done any good. Some time before Tarak died, you’d made up your mind to go to Greton.”
Taliba. Why hadn’t the wise woman told her where she could find the Siobani?
As though he heard her unspoken question, Mohan said, “Taliba said it was better for you to hear the call of Wisdom on your own, but you didn’t or wouldn’t. Your ears were full of a different melody.”
Ilythra stepped closer to the Benai. Her hands closed into fists, her spine so rigid she could feel every muscle tense for action.
“Go ahead, what difference will it make?” Mohan spread his hands wide.
Her gaze fell. “Gods damn you.”
“That might be so. But it won’t be this that seals the deal.”
Her eyes filled. Mohan had betrayed her. She’d fallen for Bredych’s manipulations, almost died for her mistake. And she didn’t have Ilydearta anymore. She turned and walked ahead toward the dark forest. He didn’t stop her.
* * *
“A woman and man have been sighted, on foot, heading northwest from the village.” The soldier kneeled with his face to the floor.
Erhard glanced at the peasant behind him. “Ilythra?” He stood from his throne.
The guard swallowed. “Yes, Majesty, and an unknown male.”
“By the gods! Stand up so I can hear you. Was she all right? Tell me, man!”
“My lord, she did not appear...” He faltered and rose to his feet. “She did not appear to be his captive.”
Erhard stared at the man.
“By the report, she appeared angry, Majesty.” The guard glanced at the farmer in threadbare clothing and absently rubbing his hat in his hands.
Anger, followed quickly by shame, clouded his vision. “I’ll lead the party myself.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Exchanging its orange garment for pure white, the moon had pulled its bloated form up from the horizon as Ilythra walked heedless through the thick forest, somehow managing to avoid the craggy root outcroppings and hidden rocks. Her footsteps sounded loud in the quiet night. She moved without thinking, keeping all thoughts at bay until a creek barred her progress. She looked up and down—no bridge. She knew Mohan was close behind but still wasn’t ready to face him.
Intense emotions ravaged her mind; part of her suspected they weren’t to be trusted. She’d felt nothing for so long, was she feeling it all now? Was this tidal wave of feeling part of her withdrawal? Right now she didn’t care. She’d lost Ilydearta; she’d lost her quest, her reason for being...she’d lost herself.
Starlight reflected off the water’s surface as it struggled to free itself from its icy border. Ilythra sank to her knees on the cold ground. Everything rushed by too fast. The river was just the latest. Sobs broke from her chest with violence and she let them go. When the shaking ceased, she felt empty, a shell. Slowly, a strange feeling of acceptance, of peace filled Ilythra. Then she recognized t
he thread of Teann. How? She stood and closed her eyes. Taliba isn’t a stone keeper, yet she walks the shallows of Teann—why can’t I?
Tentatively, she reached out, detecting faintly the distorted rhythms of Crioch. Bredych used the stone, but on whom? Farther away, so faint she almost thought she imagined it, was Ilydearta, but different. Was it just the difference between holding and seeing it from afar? No. Zeynel had said that each keeper altered a stone’s cadence. It was Ilydearta without her, without any human keeper! What must Bredych think?
She thought of the counselor. He’d never guess the truth. He couldn’t imagine anyone giving a stone to a horse. More likely, he thought her dead or so drugged that she’d given it away. Despite herself, she smiled, imagining his frustration. Melior must be leading Bredych on quite a chase, but that also gave them an advantage. Bredych didn’t know she was still very much alive and in her right mind—well, more or less. She thought back to the vision she’d had before leaving for Greton. She’d been sure the darkness in the east had been a signal for her to come. Why? Why would darkness be an invitation? Because Bredych had gone that way? No. Now, she could see that perhaps it had been a warning. Why would she seek out darkness? Was Bredych right; was she like him?
She shuddered and her stomach rebelled as she remembered his embrace. His dark words. She’d almost accepted what Bredych had offered. Power and control held little appeal to her, didn’t they? The memory of Crioch and Ilydearta weaving around them in ribbons of power came sharply into focus. Ilythra suddenly wanted to jump into the frigid waters, scrub herself clean. She was not worthy to be a stone keeper. The waters rushed by heedless of her turmoil.
But she’d said no to him. She’d turned him down.
And Mohan? He had betrayed her. A stab of pain accompanied the thought. She shook her head. What had Mohan done? Protected an ancient Benai secret until he could speak with the wise woman. He had begged her to come with him. At the time, she’d seen it as a needless delay. And as soon as he had the wise woman’s leave, he’d come to tell her. He risked his life to rescue her.
Damn. It was time to speak to the Benai.
* * *
Ilythra heard a rustling to her left. She crouched, ready to spring.
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