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Unlocking Void (Book 3)

Page 18

by Jenna Van Vleet


  “Always the optimist.”

  In Ryker’s vision faint gray shapes hovered around him. He could summon them if he wished, or focus in on their identity. He put many of them in the spirit world and had no desire to talk with them. His summons-pattern tug at his chest. Minutes later, Evony walked towards him, a faint gray specter outlined by the darkness of the spirit world.

  “Hullo, my dear,” he said. Her misty outline smiled.

  Readying the pattern, he linked the body with the spirit. Her spirit jerked into the body, and Pike released the heartbeat-pattern as Ryker let her breathe for herself. Her body jumped, and she gasped in a breath. Her dark eyes opened.

  “How do y’ feel?”

  “Eyes,” she mouthed.

  He sank and delve pattern in to see the retinas were not quite connected. He realigned them carefully. “Better?”

  “Aye.”

  “Are y’ mad at me?”

  “Nay.”

  “I told y’, Pike.”

  “What,” her voice gained a little strength. “What year do it be?”

  “4152.”

  “So long! I’ve been gone so long.” Both men helped her sit, pulling her robe around. “How long…?”

  “Have I been here?” Ryker finished her sentence. “Nearly five months, Pike and Maxine about three.”

  “What of Dorian?” They helped her stand, but her new muscles were weak and unused. Pike scooped her into his arms. She was a tiny thing.

  “Nothing yet.”

  “He died in the Sacking of Ganzen.”

  Ryker looked at Pike with a surprised expression. “Do you know where?”

  She rested her head on Pike’s shoulder tiredly. “Nay, my lord.”

  They took her to old room from Ages ago. “I will have some food brought to y’.” Ryker said gently, “In the meanwhile, rest. We have a Head Mage t’ kill later.”

  Chapter 25

  Gabriel met with Maxine when the sun sank behind the Greynadaltynes. He shifted to the Shalay Le’Inchanna’s ruins where it was still light and watched her with utmost care, deciphering her moves to look for the perfect opportunity to strike. He had to be sure he was either strong enough to fight her off or fast enough to flee. No opportunity presented itself, but thankfully, she had said nothing. She sealed the night with a passionate kiss, a bit more forceful than usual, and her hands had gone to the tongue of his belt, but she released him without pushing it further. He could not decide if it was her way of toying with him, or respecting him.

  Robyn was on her horse as soon as she woke. The sun rose soon after. Breakfast was cold bread and cheese on horseback. She was as saddle sore as ever.

  No palace guards came looking for her that night, so Aisling must not have returned, and Virgil kept true to his word. She met few people on the road that morning and trotted through two small towns without stopping. She wanted no one on her trail and to leave none to follow. If palace guards came looking for her, they would find no help in the villages.

  Midday passed overhead and began its descent before her. Horses could travel all day at a trot, but she needed speed, so she alternated. It was not long before she began to hit inclines in the foothills, and she slowed to a trot to save the horse. She passed through a third village which marked the border of Jaden with Anatoly and crossed into Mage territory.

  Midday gave way to late afternoon, and slowly the sounds of hoof beats and wind-rustled trees gave way to the roaring of a river. This close to Anatoly marked it as the Cendaline River, beginning in the north and running south into Aidenmar and Parion. The road paralleled it north before cutting across and continuing on to Castle Jaden. The threatening clouds overhead finally loosened their moisture, and it began to faintly snow.

  She kicked her horse into a canter, eager at the sight of a familiar landmark, and rode high in the stirrups to give her bottom a rest. She could already feel sores forming inside her thighs, reminding her she never got sores while riding Gabriel in tiger form.

  Ahead she spotted a bridge, but she slowed the horse as she approached. Something looked very wrong with it. She dismounted and walked halfway across to get a better look.

  Towards the far end, several boards had splintered and snapped, leaving a solid gap surrounded by precarious boards. She tested it carefully, one foot at a time. Her hand braced on the wooden railing, but they creaked and cracked as she stepped.

  “You build a bridge in my city but leave your own to rot?”

  There were few options. She could risk the horse and have him pick his way across, jump him over it, leave the horse and continue on foot, or find a skinnier part of the river and ford it.

  She swung back into the saddle and kicked him north, making her own trail along the edge of the river. As far as she knew, Jaden only used the main bridge, but there had to be others because there were several villages in the area. She clocked her location by the position of the sun and the mountain peaks she knew by name. She feared going too far north and having to double back. It would cost her precious time.

  She finally decided to ford the river and cut across to the road. The river had slowly been giving way to rockier terrain, but it narrowed as it wound north. She drew the horse down to the bank. Small chunks of ice floated on the surface, but at least the snow was not falling heavily.

  She asked the horse to cross, and he balked several times before bunching his legs beneath him and awkwardly jumping into the water. He landed up to his chest and continued balking until she kicked him hard enough. Her boots submerged in the running water, but Gabriel made them water proof. Despite the biting cold, she stayed dry.

  The horse slipped as he lost his footing and sank as he struck out into the current. Robyn was in up to her waist. She gasped at the sudden influx of freezing water, grasping for his mane as he lurched her backwards. Her cloak immediately weighted her down as it soaked with freezing water. It caught in the current, and she scrabbled for the clasp as it choked her, pulling her lower. Her horse panted as he sank, lurching to keep his head above water. She slipped off his back to raise him higher, one hand on his mane and the other still trying to unclasp her cloak, but his mane simply slid from her iced hand.

  She screamed and lunged for him, but the current pulled her away. Her cloak finally unsnapped, but she was too far to swim to him now, so she struck out for the western bank. The water was beyond freezing, and she could feel her muscles seizing up. Her hands were already numb, and her breath came in sharp rasps, but she was far from shore.

  Robyn scrabbled for anything she could catch and grabbed a protruding rock, barking her knee in the process. Not too far away was a larger group of rocks with slender saplings growing from the cracks. She released her numb grip and pushed out for them. She pulled herself up, shivering so hard she thought she might break her teeth. Her knees would not hold her, and she knew in a moment she was in deep hypothermia. Gabriel taught her all about it, having had to learn during his Water training. She had minutes to find warmth.

  The sun was just beginning to touch the summits. If she hurried, she might be able to catch the horse and the supplies to start a fire. She crawled to the edge of the rocks and looked ahead at the far bank. If she was very strong, she could swim from rock to rock and catch the bank, but it was so cold.

  Not too far away, she heard the whinny of her horse. He was close. She could catch him.

  But the idea of putting her body back in that water kept her rooted to the rock. Her clothes began to crack when she moved, and there was no warm place to put her hands. They were turning blue.

  This is where they would find her, come spring. Frozen solid to the stone like some morbid statue. She could not summon Gabriel, for she held his half of the ring. The towns were too far for her to be heard. She did not think she could muster the strength to yell, but she tried.

  ‘This is how it ends?’ she wondered. ‘Of all the stupid things I have done….’ Gabriel would never know how she felt, how truly sorry she was, how she hate
d herself for letting him go so harshly, and making it about how she felt, not him.

  The horse whinnied again, but there was no use calling it. She could hear it crashing through the brush.

  “Is she still alive?”

  A voice perked her from her frozen demise, and she lowly turned to the bank. A young man stood on the edge, an older gentleman rushing behind him.

  “Quickly, father,” the boy said, and the man urgently threw his hands out over the water. An ice bridge suddenly crept out from his feet. It latched to a rock and continued to the next. The boy rushed out onto the ice without skidding and waited for the next bridge to form.

  “Easy, Demi,” the man called. “The current is hard t’ fight against.” He swung a hand over his head, and the water slapped against a rock not far from her, freezing solidly and joined another bridge. The boy, Demi, stepped across it easily with sure and lithe steps. Slender and of average height, he was robust in the torso and had the face of someone who spent much time in the sun.

  The last bridge formed. Robyn shook with the cold, doing all she could to stay alert as Demi rushed onto her rock. He did not bother asking if she could stand; instead, he scooped her up and walked back across the frozen ice bridges. She closed her eyes, fearful of him slipping, but in no time his steps became more solid and elevated as he stepped on dry ground.

  “Felicity!” Demi yelled.

  “Here,” came a tiny voice as someone ran through the brush.

  “Flynn, bring us some blankets,” the man called.

  Demi crouched down and put Robyn between his legs. She opened her eyes to see a little girl holding a burning lantern standing not far off. Demi reached out for it, and the flames sprung to his fingertips without burning him. He laid a pattern Robyn could not see and put one hand on her back and the other on her stomach. Closing his eyes, he gave a small shutter. Warmth flooded into her, starting at her core and beating into her extremities.

  Her body relaxed as it began to unknot, and she slumped into the boy.

  “Well done, lad. Expertly woven.”

  She looked up at her savior as he ran hot fingers through her hair to dry it. He was a rugged boy, near her age, with old eyes that had seen more than he should. They reminded her of Gabriel’s, though they were hazel.

  “You’re really stupid,” he said.

  “I—I would no’ say tha’ t’ her, Demetri,” his father cut in.

  “Did the water no’ look cold before you jumped in?” His accent was Aidenmarian, his voice deep.

  “I thought I could ford it. The bridge was out.” Her teeth still chattered a little. The older man moved his hands, and the remaining moisture from her clothes dried away. She looked to him for thanks and gave him a small frown.

  He was built like his son, lanky and tall, with short dark hair and a nicely cropped beard speckled with white. He looked familiar somehow. His clothes were not exceptionally fine, and he looked wan as if he had recently been sick. He gave her a gentle smile. A gold braided torc rested around his neck set with two blue sapphires, confirming his Aidenmarian identity.

  “You mus’ forgive my son. We’ve been on the road a long time. He has had little company but his siblings. These are my children,” he gestured to the little girl in a green dress and pigtails. “This is wee Felicity, there is my son Flynn.” A boy ran up with a blanket, taking care to spread it over her. “You met Demetri, and I am Mage Malain Whitestone.”

  ‘Oh stars. The Mage from the dungeons.’ Nolen had kept several Mages captive who he believed could beneficial to him. Mage Malain had been one, a man kept captive nearly two years in the Kilkiny dungeons. She had never been introduced, but she knew his story and face. With luck he would not know hers.

  “I am Zodie,” she replied.

  “Where are you heading, my dear?”

  “To Castle Jaden.”

  “What luck! We are bent in tha’ direction. I would be mos’ pleased if you would join me in my carriage.”

  “I would like that.”

  Demi adjusted his legs and helped her stand, couching her safely under an arm to make sure she could walk. Her body felt warm and snug within her clothes and blanket.

  “Mage Malain, why are you going to Jaden?” Robyn asked.

  “Demi here is near come of age t’ be Classed, and I am accompanying him t’ plead with the Head Mage.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “For the return of my wife. She vanished one night when I was gone, right out of her bed. I fear Arch Mage Ryker Slade go’ t’ her.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Near four months past.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “What do you seek in Jaden?”

  “Same thing all stupid girls would venture into winter terrain for.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Love.”

  “No man is worth getting killed over,” Demi growled.

  “I have to get to him, by any cost.”

  “You’re right lucky we saw your horse, or you would be a blondecicle.”

  “Tha’ is quite enough, my boy.” Malain growled, “Don’ blame the lady.”

  A black carriage came into view, weathered and dusty from the road, hitched to four fine gray Aidenmarian mountain horses. Her horse stood not far off tied to a branch pleasantly munching grass. “How long have you been on the road?”

  “Near three weeks now.”

  “You are only a day away from Jaden.”

  “Tha’ is good news. We will make camp here and start early tomorrow. Demi, form us a fire, will you my boy, and help your brother pull the gear down. My dear, we can put you before the fire and keep you warm.”

  “Thank you, Mage Malain, but I feel much better. I can help set up,” she said, going to untack her horse and pull out her goods. The family moved with the precision of someone who had camped many times before, setting up a lean-to, starting a fire, and getting water on the boil.

  Robyn set her things near the fire and helped Demi pull things off the top of the carriage. Malain moved to argue when he saw her climb up the side, but then stopped to watch with amusement. She hauled the gear down as easily as Demi. In no time they had camp set up, hot tea brewing, and stew on the boil.

  “Where are you traveling from?” Demi asked as she passed around a loaf of her bread.

  “Anatoly City.”

  “For the love of a man? He must be really good for you t’ try and kill yourself.”

  “The best.”

  “Have you been t’ Jaden before?”

  “I have. It is a beautiful place.”

  “Are you a Mage?”

  “Alas, I am not.”

  “I think you have interrogated our gues’ enough, Demi,” Malain cut in as he poured everyone a mug of tea.

  “Are all your children Mages, Malain?”

  “They will be,” he smiled, easing back into seated position. “My first wife was a Fire Mage, gave me Demi and died in the process. I remarried another Fire Mage, and she gave me these two.”

  “I wan’ t’ be a Water Mage,” the little girl beamed.

  Demi stirred the pot and stoked the fire with nothing but a kick to the embers. The fire roared. Malain had been gone almost two years before he was freed. The children’s mother had vanished months ago which meant Demi must have been in charge of two children and a house alone. She understood the look in his eyes.

  “Do you have a farm?”

  Malain nodded. “Small one with a few horses.”

  Demi must have worked the fields alone to bring the harvest in. It explained why he was so tanned and broad. She would have to see what she could do to repay them.

  “Are you a farmer?” the little Felicity asked with all the innocence of a child.

  “Not with skin like that,” Flynn cut in. He, too, was tanned like his brother.

  Robyn smirked as Malain sent the boy a glare.

  “No, I work in Kilkiny Palace.”

  “And how is her Grace?” Malain asked.

  S
he grinned. “She is very well.”

  “Glad t’ hear it,” he nodded. “I hope you like lentils and carrots. We’re near the end of our fresh rations.”

  “I’m just glad for something warm.”

  Demi reached over and put a hand to her forehead. “No’ too hot.”

  “Can I overheat?”

  “No, the pattern I used has t’ be set t’ the right temperature, or I could burn you up.”

  “He tried it first on a chicken!” Flynn cut in. “It was delicious.”

  “Grab a bowl my darlings,” Malain smirked as he ladled the soup up. Robyn relaxed into her pack, a mug of hot tea on her lap, and a bowl of warm soup in her hands.

  Chapter 26

  “Would y’ ne rather kill her quickly rather than extending it par weeks?” Ryker asked Nolen as they stood in the window of his great room. “I could shift over ac have her back in five minutes. Y’ would keep the Head Mage wondering if she was alive until he gave up, then drop her on Jaden’s door par good measure.”

  Nolen smirked. “I do like your dark thinking.”

  “Ne dark, perfectly reasonable. Did y’ have a good plan t’ get into Kilkiny?”

  “I am working on something.”

  “Let me go get her.”

  “It would simplify things,” Nolen replied with a shrug.

  “Check t’ make sure Evony is well while I am gone.”

  Ryker slipped into Void as easily as drawing a breath and vanished before Nolen could reply. The boy spent equal times between Atrox and Maxine’s mansion, training, reading, and usually chasing his bevvies. He had become quite adept with the Air piece of the Silex and the new patterns Maxine taught him. He showed promise, and Ryker debated giving him a second piece of the Silex, but not quite yet.

  Kilkiny Palace had old wards set into it, some to keep the stone from cracking or the water in the roof cisterns boiling, and a few to keep people out. While someone erected anti-sidestep patterns around the Queen’s apartments, they had failed to lay disparage-patterns, and he slipped right into the Queen’s study.

  The room was vacant, but he could hear shouting down the hall. He quietly stole into the bedchamber and looked around. Everything looked so different since the last time he was here. Anatoly became a kingdom after the people of Luxantine were massacred, well after the founding of Jaden and before Arconia rose. Time changed all things.

 

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