by Jeff Wheeler
“And what are you doing in Castun?” Thealos asked.
The woodsman’s cheek twitched. His countenance fell and his eyes narrowed with some awful memory. He glanced at the faces around the table. “Not long ago, I went with a group of Shae scouts into the south borders of the Shadows Wood. The whole banned Shoreland regiment is holed up there right now.” Sturnin stiffened, and the woodsman nodded. “Hate’s own truth, Sturnin. It was Tsyrke Phollen’s regiment. Just sitting there, getting ready to siege Landmoor. Phollen isn’t there yet, but word is he’s coming.”
Ticastasy’s eyes went wide with shock. She glanced across the table at Flent who shared her expression.
Allavin shook his head in disgust. “But they’re not just waiting to siege the fortress. They were digging up something in the swamp. A strange plant or root – looked like moss. Ballinaire himself was there overseeing it.”
“Fury,” Sturnin Goff muttered in awe, leaning forward. “Ballinaire himself is down here? We had heard he was still rotting in the mountains. I wish I had been there to cleave his head from his shoulders.”
“No,” Allavin replied, coughing. “No, you don’t wish you were there. I was the only one who made it out alive.”
Thealos felt his heart pinch in his chest. “What happened to the Shae…”
“Killed to the last man,” Allavin replied grimly. He looked hard at them. “By a Sleepwalker.”
XXI
I’m sorry to hear that,” Thealos told Allavin earnestly, rising to his feet. He kept all expression from his face, though his stomach clenched with worry. “It’s never easy losing our friends. Linger with us. I’m sure you and Sturnin would like to talk.” Without waiting for a response, he retreated to a window seat and sat down. What am I doing here? he asked himself.
The Catpaw Inn was warm and comfortable. A cool breeze had finally dispelled the awful heat of the day. Thealos folded his arms, breathing in the rich smells of spicy stew and bread and feeling nauseated by it. He stared at the reflections in the window glass. It was too dark a night and poorly lit outside to see much more than the image of the common room painted on the glass by the lamps inside the inn.
Back at the corner table, Sturnin conferred with Allavin. They spoke in low tones, using the table in front of them as a map of the land. The tracker drew out where the Bandit armies had positioned themselves – or at least when he had last seen them. A Bandit regiment had gathered in the Shadows Wood. How far away?
Flent nudged Justin’s elbow, flipping through a stack of Bones and trying to teach the game yet again to the Warder Shae. Justin sipped from his cup of tea, withdrawn and impassive, his eyes straying to the other patrons in the room. There were smiths and tanners and woodsmen at nearly every table now, and the Warder Shae seemed to shrivel up as he glared at them all. Thealos decided to talk to him later and give him some measure of Shae companionship. He looked very miserable and edgy, though not as much when Flent spoke to him.
“Don’t tell me you can see anything out there,” Ticastasy whispered over his shoulder, her voice soft and mocking. She brought him his goblet of Silvan wine.
He cocked his head and gave her a weary smile. “No,” he said after taking a sip. “But we like others to believe we have eyes as good as a Drugaen’s.”
She sat down next to him on the window seat, their legs brushing. She leaned back against the polished oak siding, regarding him. Her hair was slipping free of the piece of violet fabric, loose and combed.
“I feel a little out of place here tonight,” she said, glancing at the common room and shaking her head. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful watching the other girls doing all the work. But part of me feels guilty – like I should be helping with the dishes or something.”
“This place is a little slower than business in the Foxtale. I imagine ships dock at the wharves at all hours.”
“Yes, but the mood is much nicer here. Talbin is wonderful. It would be easy working for him. See how he asks the girls gently, doing everything in the shadows. Even when that girl dropped a platter, he didn’t fuss.” She shook her head. “Roye would have started swearing.”
Thealos nodded in understanding. “It’s…quiet here.”
“It’s only quiet because it caters to men like you,” she replied, giving him a pointed look.
He shrugged.
“I can’t figure you out, Quickfellow,” she said with a hint of a pout.
“What do you mean?”
She folded her arms. “I’ve known a Shae or two over the years, but never a Silvan lord.” She smirked. “We don’t see them too often on the Sheven-Ingen wharves, but I’m sure they visit Sol now and then. You have the looks of a barter’s son,” she fingered the fabric of his vest. “But maybe you just want to look like one. That’s what I thought at first. But then the Crimson Wolfsmen came looking for you. I’d heard of them but had never seen one fight before. It’s not that easy to cut down a horseman of the Kiran Thall. All of these things make you different. And then there’s the Sleepwalker.” Her eyebrows raised. “Your protector? Your…traveling companion? But I can’t quite put the pieces together. If he’s your protector, why leave to come here ahead of us?”
Thealos saw her frustration and couldn’t help chuckling.
“Why is that so funny?” she demanded.
“Are you always this prying?” he asked.
She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t make a habit of running off with strangers, Quickfellow. I’ve known you only a few days and suddenly I’m sitting with you in a respectable inn miles away from Sol with the strongest urge in the world to throttle the truth out of you.” She smiled when she saw the shocked look in his eyes. “Oh, don’t take what I say too seriously,” she said, shifting the tone of the conversation. Her voice lowered. “What I’m trying to say – and probably not doing a very good job – is that you… intrigue me. And not many people in this forsaken kingdom do.”
Talking with her helped settle the twisting feeling in Thealos’ stomach. He saw the admiration and curiosity he was arousing in her, even though she was only a serving girl from Sol. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, that he was a Kilshae in all but name, that Jaerod had saved him from being killed by a band of Dos-Aralon thieves. He could see the respect in her eyes for the enigma. Even Sturnin Goff offered a grudging respect and had remained silent about Jaerod in front of Allavin Devers thus far. Though Thealos didn’t doubt for a moment whose side the knight would take when a confrontation finally came. He wasn’t as sure of his own decision yet.
Thealos squeaked his thumb around the rim of the goblet. “I hope you’re not too disappointed when you figure me out.”
“Disappointed? You gave me a gown I’d never have spent money on for myself. You’ve put us up at a very nice inn to keep us safe. You’ve treated me like a lady, Quickfellow, and not a stupid human churl. I never forget a kindness.”
“Or a debt or a good cask of ale from swill, I’m willing to barter,” he joked. The street was hidden in the glare of the glass. Nestled in the window seat next to her, it truly felt as if they were alone in the world. “I’m from a different world than you,” he admitted. “I miss Avisahn. I miss my family – especially my little sister. I’m also a long way from home. There’s nothing like a walk through the city at night. The smells that linger in the air.”
“I’ve never even seen Avisahn,” she said, staring down at her hands. “I wish I could say I’d been as far as Dos-Aralon, but I can’t. Flent and I…we live our lives from the memories of others. Sailors tell more lies than Shae barters,” she gave him a wink, “But sometimes it’s nice to imagine going there someday.”
He wasn’t offended. “Do you speak any Silvan?”
She shrugged. “Oh, a few words here and there. Some of the words are a lot like the king’s common, but the words have different meanings. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Like the word ‘fire’ – it means magic or power or light.”
“That’s pretty good,
” he complimented. “Words you use like fire or silver or quick have many meanings in Silvan. You’ve paid attention to some of the details. Being close to barters, I’ve known many humans myself. Mostly the cloth traders in Dos-Aralon. You can learn a lot from a cloth trader, though. You learn what people are wearing in the high court of King don Rion, or what colors the Duke of Amberdian fancies these days.” He shrugged. “You also hear about the colors that are important to the Shoreland cities.”
“Is this about money, Quickfellow?” she asked, her brows wrinkling with the hint of disgust. “War always raises the prices on everything. Not as much silk and satin are sold – soldiers need wool for blankets and capes and liveries.” She regarded him coolly.
Thealos shook his head. He had learned in recent days how easy it was to give away too much. He was more guarded with Ticastasy. More deliberate. “I can see why you would think that, knowing my people as you do. I’m not after gold.” He held up his hand when he saw she was about to interject something. “There are many in Avisahn who would like another war between don Rion and the Bandits. Doesn’t matter who wins or loses, both sides will need supplies. I’ve no doubt that you’ve heard my people are, above all else, money-dealing thieves who can’t be trusted.”
“That is exactly what I was going to say,” she replied. “But you’re saying that’s not why you’re here?”
“No, I’m here for other reasons. That plant that the Bandits are digging up, the one that Allavin mentioned at the table. That’s one of the reasons. There are others as well. But none of those reasons are about wealth. Believe me, my Correl is wealthy enough that I’ll never lack for it. But when Jaerod comes, maybe then I can tell you the rest. Agreed?”
“Do you think he killed those men who were with him?” she asked, nodding her head towards Allavin and Sturnin.
“No,” Thealos answered.
“Are you sure?” she pressed.
“Not unless he can walk faster than the wind,” Thealos countered. “He’s been with me.”
“Oh,” she replied. “I just heard somewhere that the Shae can tell when one of their kind is murdered. I figured that if he had done it, you would be able to tell.”
Thealos chuckled. “Do you believe every rumor about us?”
“Well, I have yet to see you dance with the moon,” she teased. “You’re starting to change my mind about your people as a whole, Quickfellow,” she conceded with a smirk and a nod. “I’d heard the Shae never give anything away.” She smoothed the bodice of her gown. “That’s just an another ugly rumor, isn’t it?”
Thealos felt a cold prickle go up his spine and quiver on the flesh of his neck. A chill rushed through him.
“Are you cold?” she asked, nudging closer.
“No,” Thealos answered, looking out into the darkness once again. “Jaerod is here.”
* * *
The noise and gaiety of the Catpaw Inn hushed as Thealos gently shut the door behind him. He stood alone on the back porch of the inn, washed in darkness so thick that it took several moments before he believed he hadn’t stepped off the edge of the world. As a Shae, he could see very well in the dark, but he wished he had the night vision of a Drugaen. The blue moonglow accented the rear street before revealing a tack and harness shop reeking of horses and leather. The heat from the day was replaced by a cold wind that knifed at Thealos’ hands and cheeks. He stared down the street both ways, looking for the Sleepwalker.
“I’m over here.” Jaerod’s voice came out of the stillness.
Thealos nearly stumbled and his heart jolted. He calmed himself down. If Jaerod had wanted him dead, he would have let Tannon’s band finish him in the woods. He had to remember that. The porch wrapped around the one side of the inn, and in the darkness Thealos had failed to see a small wooden bench with flat arm rests. Jaerod was a smudge in the shadows.
“You startled me,” Thealos said, walking over to the bench. He folded his arms and hugged himself for warmth.
“It’s always a pleasure doing that to a Shae,” the Sleepwalker replied. “I see that we’ve picked up some stragglers after Sol. The knight followed you?”
“He caught up in the Shadows Wood. He was looking for you.”
“And so is Allavin Devers, I understand.” He paused. “What about the one playing Bones with Flent? Another stray from Avisahn?”
Thealos saw the Sleepwalker’s medallion against the dark fabric of his tunic. “Flent calls him Justin, but he can’t remember his own name. We found him in the Shadows Wood under escort by six Krag Drugaen. He said they were taking him back to the Ravenstone as a slave. He’s a Warder Shae…”
Jaerod was standing. Thealos took a half-step backward without realizing it. The Sleepwalker had risen so fast, his motion was just a blur in the blackness.
“A Warder Shae,” the human said, interested. “Or should we say, the Warder Shae.”
“You know him?”
“A Warder Shae was left to guard the Everoot,” Jaerod answered. He paced away from Thealos. “When he wasn’t down in the tunnels, I assumed one of the Sorian had disposed of him.” He stopped and looked back at Thealos. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying. Forgive me. His presence is a surprise, but one that will make a great difference in our favor.” His voice whispered from the shadows. “Strange, isn’t it, Thealos? It’s as if the seasons have rolled on their wings, bringing summer, fall, and winter in the span of a week.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Thealos said after a pause. His heart hammered in his chest. “Who are you…really? How did you know Justin was supposed to be there?”
“You’re doubting whether you can trust me,” Jaerod said. “Have I earned your trust so far?”
“Yes, but I don’t know who you really are, Jaerod. You’ve already said that Allavin is waiting for you. I assume you also know why?”
“He thinks I killed a group of Shae scouts,” Jaerod replied.
“Did Talbin’s men tell you?”
“Yes. They were left to warn me in case the Kiran Thall chased you into Castun. Thealos, I don’t have much time to waste convincing you of my sincerity in this matter. I’ve never shed the blood of a Shae. Take me at my word, or walk away from me. But I brought you here for a reason.”
Thealos stood still, trying to feel if the man’s words rang true. Vannier help him, but they did. “What do you want from me, Jaerod?”
“When I arrived in this land, I went into the Shoreland first. I was there long enough to search the ruins of the watchpost and to see what was going on in the Shadows Wood. From there I left for Avisahn to get you. Allavin Devers is also a Shaefellow. And so am I. This is all about the Everoot. Do you still have the portion I entrusted to you?”
“Yes,” Thealos replied, patting the front of his vest.
“And you’ve been watering it?” the Sleepwalker pressed. “Give it to me.”
Thealos withdrew the damp sack and pressed it into Jaerod’s palm. He felt the tingling prick of Earth magic leave him as he passed it over. The Everoot murmured to him soothingly, speaking to his Silvan senses of taste and sound.
There was silence between them. “You found it…useful?” Jaerod asked.
“It saved us against the Krag,” Thealos answered, feeling the presence of the Everoot itch at him. Somehow, it didn’t feel right – it didn’t belong in Jaerod’s hands. The magic belonged to the Shae, to those who would use it properly.
“Hmmm. You used too much of it,” Jaerod muttered. “As soon as I took it away, you began craving it again, didn’t you? This is how it begins, Thealos. This is part of the danger inherent in so strong a Silvan magic. It’s the nature of Silvan magic to want to harness and control it. Be careful, Thealos.” Jaerod’s firm hand rested on his shoulder. “Be very careful not to heed those feelings.”
Thealos stared up at the Sleepwalker. “I don’t understand. I’ve used it as you showed me...”
“No, you didn’t. I only use it to heal others. Never myself
. I’m thankful I didn’t leave you alone with it for too long. By morning, the craving will have faded and you’ll see it for what it is. You remember Tannon’s Band, don’t you? How much they wanted your blade? It’s the same thing. Only, it feels different when it happens to you. I’ve never let Everoot heal me. And for this reason, I never will. Let me safeguard it for now, Thealos. Whether you use it again, I will let you decide on your own. After you’ve heard what I came here to tell you – what I brought you here for.”
Thealos clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I’ll have faith in you a little longer then.”
“Thank you,” he murmured sarcastically. “I am a man of secrets. My particular profession requires that. Yet what I have to tell you tonight, the others have a right to learn too. It affects all of us. But right now, I’m afraid Devers won’t trust me if I just walk in there and say I want to talk peacefully. I don’t want to fight him or the knight and cause a stir that will have everyone’s tongues wagging. I move in secret where I can. Go back inside and call a Shaefellow Pax.” His voice dropped lower, more distant. “We don’t have much time before the Bandits move out of the woods. It may even happen tonight.”
XXII
Xenon knelt in the dry scrub of dead cedar and turned earth and dug his fingers into the soil. His Shae senses were stung with fetid harshness, and the smell made him scowl as if he’d just breathed in the scent of a moldering corpse. Ashes and dross had been buried here – in the Silvan way. Yet beneath the corrupted soil, he felt in the distance the elusive presence of the Forbidden. The entire Shadows Wood reeked with it.
Xenon shook the stinking earth from his hand and muttered a quick prayer of purification to Keasorn.
“The Kilshae is keeping the traditions,” Kitrey offered, bending nearby. The trowel marks were obvious beneath the layer of scrub.
Xenon looked at him. “Or pretending to.” Kitrey was a little taller than Xenon, more willowy and graceful, but their skills were equal. Xenon rose slowly, seeing the glowing eyes of the brothers of two other quaeres with small lanterns. “There are too many tracks and confusing signs in this place,” he announced, “but one thing is clear. Forbidden magic was used in this spot. This wayward child is swimming in deep waters. The instructions from the Sunedrion are very clear. He must be brought to justice.”