“Thank you, Mistress Gavranter,” Evon said, a little overwhelmed. He put the map away in his bag and mounted his horse. “I don’t suppose you know if Miss Haylter took a horse with her?”
“I don’t believe she did,” Mistress Gavranter said, “which tells me that there is a part of that young woman that wants to be found.”
Evon nodded to her, wheeled the horse around and trotted out of the stable yard. He retraced the route they’d taken the day they’d ridden to rescue Kerensa, and when he passed the side road that had led to Valantis’s manor, Evon shivered a little. With Odelia dead, Valantis might give up on Kerensa...but it was foolish to think Speculatus had no other powerful magicians, and Evon still didn’t know how they’d tracked her in the first place. Kerensa headed south into the hands of the Despot, with Speculatus following behind...Evon gripped the reins more tightly and pushed the thoughts away. There was nothing he could do about any of that. The only thing he had power over was finding Kerensa. He inhaled deeply and caught her scent making a clear trail along the coastal highway. How far could she have gotten on foot in one day? Perhaps he would catch up to her in Belicath. It might be just that simple.
Snow began falling around mid-afternoon, tiny cold specks that caught on his lashes and made him blink constantly. He pulled his wide-brimmed hat of felted wool further down over his eyes. These clothes were unexpectedly comfortable, though he felt a little exposed without his frock coat hugging his body. Piercy had compensated for that missing garment by providing Evon with a cloak as well as an overcoat. Evon thought he probably looked a little stupid, but he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of comfort.
By the time he reached the outskirts of Belicath, at sunset, the snow was coming down more heavily and the lights in the houses he passed were little more than dim halos to either side of the road. Evon was following Kerensa purely by scent at this point, barely aware of the wide street and the pedestrian bridges arcing above the busiest intersections, and the appearance of the southern gate looming up before him startled him. He stopped his idiot horse beneath the last streetlight and looked off into the distance. The snow was falling so heavily now that he could barely see more than twenty feet ahead before everything simply went gray. He cursed vehemently. If he went on that night, he’d likely just get lost and freeze to death. He wasn’t going to catch up to her tonight, anyway. Sleep, and an early start, and with luck the snow would have stopped falling.
He left Belicath early the next morning, the horse trudging through drifts four or five inches deep in places. The snow continued to fall, but in tiny specks once again, and despite the knot of anxiety Evon carried with him he was still able to appreciate what a beautiful day it was. He took out his map. The next town south of Belicath was Annaplen, probably a day’s journey for the idiot horse and his first real chance at catching up to her. He tried not to think about the possibility that she’d found a ride with someone. As long as she was still on foot, he’d overtake her soon.
Dark fell before he reached Annaplen with no houses or villages in sight, but it was a clear night with a bright moon and it was easy to push on to reach the city, which, when he arrived, appeared to be host to a city-wide party. Men and women strolled together, even after dark, and shouted greetings to others across the street or to passing traffic. Evon was startled to be accosted in this way by several different women, all calling out invitations for him to join them and commenting approvingly on his appearance. They didn’t seem to be prostitutes, but they were far more aggressive than the women of Evon’s acquaintance in the capital, and he felt uncomfortably exposed by their attention.
He crossed most of the city this way and had begun to worry that Kerensa had come and gone when her scent took a sharp turn to the left. Gratefully, Evon followed it to a less crowded and less noisy neighborhood that was still heavily trafficked even at that hour, past a number of frame houses and businesses with their names painted in the windows and up to the yard of a small but pleasant-looking inn with a picture of a dancing pig hanging over the front door. Here, it seemed, was where all the noise had gone. Brightly lit windows revealed a taproom full of people drinking, laughing, eating, and in some cases dancing, though Evon couldn’t hear any music. Kerensa’s scent led straight through its front door.
The taproom smelled of warm beer and warmer bodies. Men and women sat or stood wherever they could find room, some of them even sitting on tables. Barmaids squeezed between customers, but cheerfully, not seeming to care if a careless drunk waved a little too broadly and clipped the edge of someone else’s mug. A roar went up in one corner of the room, and a woman stepped onto a table, assisted by several friendly hands, and began belting out a song Evon had never heard before. Everyone in the taproom turned to watch her, and most of them joined in the raucous chorus when it came around. Evon shoved through the crowd, scanning the room as he did so. Drinkers kept stepping into his path, most of them without meaning to, though some clapped him on the shoulder and invited him to join the party. He declined with as good a nature as he could muster after a long day on the road and his irritation and frustration at being so close to Kerensa without seeing her. Perhaps she’d taken a room and had gone there to get away from the noise.
Then he saw her. She was seated at the bar, her back to him, a mug of pale beer next to her hand. She sat a little slumped over, though whether she was sad or simply tired he couldn’t tell. He shoved harder and managed to make a free space next to her. “What are you drinking, miss?” he said.
“I already—” She looked up at him and her mouth fell open, then closed sharply. Her eyes narrowed. “I told you not to follow me.”
“Yes, I know. Do you think someday you’ll find a way to say it that will persuade me to listen?”
“Evon—”
“Let me see. It’s dangerous, I’ll be killed by enemy forces, you have to do this alone, you want to sacrifice your life for the greater good, it’s dangerous, and I can’t think of any other objections you might have.”
“You said ‘dangerous’ twice.”
“Well, I thought it might be extra dangerous, what with the war and all.”
She covered her mouth to hide a smile. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“Is this man bothering you?” A dark-bearded young man, very broad in the shoulders, loomed up behind Kerensa.
“Yes,” Kerensa said, irritably.
The man looked Evon up and down and seemed to like his chances. “Let’s see what we can do about that,” he said. Evon felt someone else step up behind him. This might not end well.
“I’m her brother,” he said, equally irritable. “I came to take her home. Our parents are worried about her.”
“He’s not my brother,” Kerensa said. Evon felt hands grip his upper arms.
“Livian, why do you keep playing this game?” he said, trying to sound exasperated and sad at the same time. “You know Ma worries when you don’t come home. I’m just glad you fell in with people who want to defend you, even if it’s against your own brother. Really, fellows, it’s good to know there are decent men left in this world who are willing to defend a lone woman’s honor.”
The hands relaxed, though they didn’t let go entirely. “Is this true, miss?” rumbled a deep voice from behind Evon.
“No!” Kerensa exclaimed. She looked a little stunned. “He’s making all of this up! I don’t want to go with him!”
Evon projected as much sorrow into his voice as he could. “Livian, you know how it hurts me when you say that. Your own brother who’s looked out for you your whole life, who only wants what’s best for you. I’m sorry you had to hear that, fellows. I hope your own sisters treat you better than mine does. Please, Livian, let’s just go home.”
The hands released him. “I think you should go with your brother, sweetheart,” the bearded man said. “Come back and have a drink with us another time.”
“No—” Kerensa began, but Evon grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. �
�Come along, sister,” he said, and pulled her through the crowd and out of the taproom.
She yanked her hand free when they were in the yard. “How dare you do that?”
“I’m just pointing out how easily an unscrupulous man could take advantage of you.”
“Someone as unscrupulous as you, you mean?”
“Kerensa, you’re not safe alone on the road. An unescorted woman is a target for every evil-minded man out there. What were you thinking?”
“Evon, there’s no more time. You and I both know those magicians are never going to find a solution before the Despot invades.”
“What about me? You don’t think I can do it?”
“How much progress have you made?”
It felt like a punch to the stomach. Kerensa looked at him for a moment, her eyes wide, then said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Didn’t you?” He leaned up against the porch rail. “I can see where you might have lost faith in me.”
“No. Never that. But I’m tired of waiting and being poked at and analyzed. I want to act and I want to stop feeling like a victim.”
“Kerensa, we’re talking about your life. If you manage to get into the Despot’s presence, which is improbable, you won’t come back from that. That’s unacceptable to me. It ought to be unacceptable to you.”
“Evon, every day the Despot moves a little farther north. He’s destroying everything and everyone that gets in his way. What I’m carrying is the only way to stop him. I don’t want to die, but how can I rate myself any higher than the thousands of people who will otherwise die at his hands?”
“That doesn’t mean you have to throw your life away when there’s another solution.”
She sighed. “Then tell me what I should do. Tell me your solution. And it had better not involve those magicians, because I am not going back to them.”
“No. Some of them, most of them, are decent people, but Mistress Quendester was right in saying they wouldn’t find the secret before the Despot comes. But they’re looking at it the wrong way. They still think they can extract the fire from you and use it as a weapon. They don’t understand that the spell is the weapon, that breaking it down like that will only destroy it. If we’re going to stop the Despot from tearing Dalanine apart, from tearing any other country apart, it will be through this spell. I just have to find a way to keep it from killing you.”
“Can you do that?”
“I know I can. I refuse to believe otherwise.”
“I’m going to keep traveling south. The sooner I reach the Despot, the less damage he’ll do.”
“Then I’ll just have to figure this out while we’re on the road.”
Kerensa turned her too-smooth face so he was looking at her in profile. “Then what do we do?”
That “we” cheered Evon immensely. “Sleep,” he said. “I’ve been on the road all day chasing after someone who thinks she can get rid of me with an uninformative note. I don’t want to think about this before morning.”
Kerensa smiled. “I knew it wouldn’t work. But I thought, maybe for once he’ll see reason. Is Piercy with the horses?”
“I made him stay behind. He’s more logical than I am and an appeal to reason worked.”
“I didn’t think you went anywhere without him.”
“Neither did I.” Right then he wished Piercy were there with them. He was good with strategy, and if anyone could find a way through enemy territory into the heart of the Despot’s army, Piercy could. He’d have to ask Piercy about it when he communicated with him that night.
“Well, we can’t go back in there, and I left all my things in the room I rented,” Kerensa said irritably. “Couldn’t you have been a little more discreet?”
“You were the one who told the man I was bothering you. Did you want me to get beaten up by two half-drunken farmers?”
She ducked her head. “I was just being honest. I didn’t think about how they’d react.”
“And you think you’re safe out here on your own. We can go in the back way and I’ll find someone to rent me a room.”
He took her around through the stable yard and in at the kitchen door, where the cook directed him to the innkeeper’s wife, a stout woman who took his money and gave him what was probably the smallest room in the place, little bigger than the bedframe that filled it. Kerensa showed him where she was sleeping, just in case, and stopped him before he left. “I wanted you to follow me,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m glad you did.”
“That’s good, because you won’t be rid of me easily,” he replied. Her eyes shone in the lamplight, and his mind replayed I wanted you to follow me and tried hard to turn it into I want you, with no success. “Good night, sister Kerensa.”
“Good night, Evon, and don’t worry, I’ll still be here in the morning.” She shut the door on the sound of her laughter. He stood still in the hall outside her door for a moment, then went back to his room to talk to Piercy. Between the two of them, they ought to be able to come up with a plan.
Chapter Seventeen
They had two days of beautifully clear weather as they traveled south, sunny and warm enough that even high in the mountains the roads cleared somewhat and they made excellent time. The first night, they stopped at a farmhouse where the farmer’s grown sons appreciated Kerensa far more than made Evon happy. He wished he could have pretended to be her jealous husband, and had to settle for being her overprotective brother instead. Kerensa seemed oblivious to the glances and jostling for positions at the table next to her, which mollified Evon a little, but he still watched her carefully until Mrs. Tefinter, the farmer’s wife, showed her to a room she would share with the woman’s young daughters. Evon bunked down with the sons and tried to fall asleep to their chorus of whistling breaths and honking snores. Even Piercy never made that much noise.
He was impatient, the next day, to reach Holdplain; it had been impossible for him to make any more attempts at removing the spell from Kerensa that night, and he began to feel the pressure of moving south without any progress. According to his map, Holdplain was an easy day’s ride from the farm, so after a hearty breakfast he took Kerensa up behind him and trotted away down the highway, which had begun to turn inland away from the coast. He’d offered to buy her a horse of her own, though he winced at the resulting leanness of his purse, but Kerensa admitted she didn’t know how to ride, and he had to endure the guilty pleasure of having her body pressed against his back as they rode. He didn’t remember her holding him this closely before, and cursed himself for being so sensitive to her presence.
“If the weather stays this clear, we should reach the border in just a few days, right?” she said. She leaned closer to him, her breath warm on his neck, as a wagon passed them headed north; it had given them only a few inches’ clearance.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Evon said. “Mrs. Tefinter said they’re expecting another big storm in a day or two.”
“That’s too bad. I hate the delay.”
“I don’t. If a storm hits while we are safely tucked away in a little inn somewhere, that’s more time for me to work. And even the Despot can’t move his armies in a blizzard.”
Another wagon approached, this one wider, and Evon went off the verge into ankle-deep drifts to avoid it. “Does it seem to you,” he said, “that there are more wagons going north than before?”
“I counted yesterday,” Kerensa said. “Seventeen, and some of them were families instead of cargo. The Despot is already driving people ahead of him.”
“If they have time to flee, it’s not yet dire,” Evon said.
“Or too many people think they have more time than they do. Look, there’s another one.”
Evon once again went off the road. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I’m not, but it does make me anxious.”
“Holdplain tonight. Will you be ready for a few more experiments?”
“The way you say that makes me think you have some
thing more in mind than simple study.”
“I want to try a few more command words with vertiri to see if it responds to one of them. It will...you may feel fear again.”
“I can endure that.” She didn’t sound as certain as her words suggested. Evon cringed to think of causing her pain, even if it was only emotional pain. He reminded himself that it was better for her to feel a little pain now than to undergo the ultimate agony of the spell’s final activation. He had to find a way. There was no acceptable alternative.
But in Holdplain they ran into trouble of a different sort. “You only have one room?” Evon exclaimed.
“Sorry. We’re a tavern and we only got so many rooms. You can bunk down in the stables if you’ve a mind.” The tavern owner was a brusque, thin, bald man who stood behind the bar polishing the same glass repeatedly with a none-too-clean rag.
“But she’s my sister,” Evon said. “There’s no impropriety in our sharing a room.”
“Wouldn’t be right, sister or no. This is a decent, Gods-fearing establishment. Stable or nothing.”
Evon hesitated, then leaned close to the tavern owner. “Sir, I really hate to have to tell anyone this. You can see my sister looks like a beautiful, normal girl, yes? The sad truth is that she has fits sometimes. Froths at the mouth and everything. I try to take a room next door to her, so I can hear it if she falls down, because it’s my duty to care for her in her trouble.”
The bald man paused briefly in his polishing, his eyes widening just a bit. He glanced at Kerensa, who was seated at one of the tables, picking at something stuck to the table top. “Not that pretty little thing?”
“It’s too true, sir. Now, I can understand your position. It doesn’t look good for a man and a woman, not married to each other, to share a room. And I’ll understand if you want me to take myself off to the stables. It’s just that somebody needs to care for her, and if I’m not there, well, I’d need to know that you were ready to step up to help her.” Evon wished now that he’d known about the room situation; he could have claimed they were married. Too late now. “She sometimes loses control of her bodily functions,” he improvised, seeing the man’s expression wavering.
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