Knight Exiled: The Shackled Verities (Book Three)

by Tammy Salyer

  Now everyone was looking at her. She arranged her features to appear impassive, a look she’d practiced from observing Knight Nazaria, though her insides felt a bit stormy.

  The elder woman was quicker to understand his intentions than Isemay. “You’re proposing to take the Vinnric through the labyrinth and have her commit the way to memory, then bring this map back to Maerria for us to transcribe.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly right, Kalisk.”

  Kalisk turned to her. “And what do you think of this idea, young Vinnric?”

  What did she think? It was exactly the kind of thing a Knight Corporealis would do, and she thought it was a wonderful idea…except it would never work. The task was inconceivable, yet she didn’t want to make Salukis look foolish. “I’m-I’m sure the idea is sound and Salukis has thought through all the steps on how we might get it done,” she said blandly. Safran would be proud of her diplomatic lack of a real answer.

  Salukis flashed her a half-grin. “Yes, I have. Isemay and I will follow a supply wagon from the Aktoktos Gate through the maze. Once we’ve discovered the route, I’ll fly us back to Maerria. I’m fast, and I’ve already studied the guard posts. I know how to avoid the Minothians. Their wagons are slow, so it’ll take maybe two days to get through, but I can get us back in under one.”

  Isemay wanted to shout, Are you feebleminded?! Follow a wagon through a vast labyrinth—she’d heard it described in words like “impassable” and “treacherous”—guarded by hostile Minothians? As if they wouldn’t be noticed? And those giant, wooly beasts they called the urzidae, surely those would sense them. Isemay considered herself good at hiding and sneaking—she’d practiced her whole life trying to outwit her Knight family—but she didn’t think she was ready to do the same when the stakes were real.

  Was she?

  She felt something warm on her hand and looked down to see Tekl nuzzling it. The snouz must have felt her anxiety. She patted the beast, then reached for her memory keeper, once more secured around her neck on the mended copper chain.

  “She’s not Arc Rheunosian, Salukis,” a man was saying. “She’s not a yielder. They’ll spot her easily.”

  “They won’t be looking for us—no one goes into the labyrinth,” Salukis argued. “We have the sheer impossibility of anyone daring what we’re about to dare to help hide us. She is trained in stealth by her own Archons, and my wings will mostly conceal us.”

  Kalisk put a hand on Salukis’s elbow. “There is a great deal of danger in this, Salukis, and much risk. Are you prepared for the consequences if you fail?” She looked at Isemay. “And is the Vinnric?”

  He wrapped her wrinkled hand gently in one of his and took a breath before addressing the crowd. “I know the risks, we all do, but there are always risks. We’re not going to find our families, your grandchildren Onni and Cylli, Kalisk”—he turned to a nearby man—“or your daughter Eleni, Bunefer, if we’re not willing to take risks. Isemay’s and her mother’s coming here is not just a coincidence. It’s a…a chance, and possibly a sign from the Cosmos. What if we are meant to try? If we don’t use the advantages Isemay brought us, we’ll never be free of the Minothians or the Churss. And what happens when Archon Tuzhazu rules Minoth?”

  Before Isemay’s spellbound eyes, the boy only a couple of turns older than she transformed into a man, and she listened intently. Salukis’s ardent speech, the line of his jaw as he spoke, the flash of the wystic Churss light in his eyes, the way the muscles in his forearm bunched as he clenched his fist to emphasize his words, all held her attention like no Conservatum lesson on Verity lore or wondrous wystic trinket ever had. His confidence and sincerity not only made her think he may truly have a viable plan, it also made her forget its folly and know she would follow it, and follow him, to whatever end. She felt drawn to him, but more than that, she felt admiration.

  Salukis finished with: “Isemay can give us a map. And she has the courage to help us. We have to find the courage to let her.”

  His eyes met hers, and it took her a moment to realize he’d caught her staring back into his. She blinked, then nodded to the rest in the gathering. “I’m…” She had to clear her throat. “I’m willing to do what it takes to find my mum and get back home. If I can help the Zhallah people get back your families, too, I will. It’s the least I can do for all your kindness to me.”

  Kalisk gave a short nod. “When would you leave, Salukis?”

  “Tomorrow morning. The sooner we go the better.” He looked to Isemay again and added, “If you’re ready.”

  How could I be ready for this? she thought, but nodded mechanically. She would have to be, for her mum’s sake.

  That quiet but urgent adult voice in the back of her head added, Be smart, Isemay. Don’t let this crush you have on him make you overconfident. You’re only a kid, don’t fool yourself. And so is he. But those Minothians aren’t playing a game. You better not treat it like one.

  Chapter Twenty

  Like a beacon of light hovering over an abyss, Symvalline’s Mentalios lens lay just inside the alcove behind the hearth in the healing room. Inder had somehow pilfered it from Tuzhazu’s possessions and left it for her in this spot. He was a clever child, she’d give him that. But his unlooked-for gift had done her more of a favor than he’d possibly have guessed.

  With the Mentalios restored to her, calling her klinkí stones back was her first impulse. But this was no time to be impulsive. The stones would be of little use to her while Tuzhazu held the Fenestros, and if someone saw them traveling at her summons through Everlight Hall, it would simply be a matter of that person following them to discover her, thus burning her only advantage to ash.

  She donned the pendant and breathed the words that would make it glow, illuminating the space before her. The alcove was much too small to stand in, requiring her to stay kneeling. But a tunnel led off from the left, and it looked big enough to crawl through.

  But to where? She still had no guide.

  There was little doubt these tunnels would be known to the Minothians of Everlight Hall, and she wouldn’t be able to rely on their concealment of her for long. The moment Tuzhazu received the “sample” she’d sent, he’d send a force after her—if he was still able. She needed two things desperately: a map, either of the labyrinth or a way through the mountains to the Zhallahs; and a means of concealing herself long enough to get from the hall to the village outside and then through it. She could cover her tracks in mountains, and possibly the labyrinth, so long as she could get to them.

  She suspected she would fulfill both her needs in Tuzhazu’s chambers. He was the military leader, after all, and no military leader was successful in any campaign without maps. And perhaps, as a side benefit, she’d get the chance to watch him pay in some small measure for the suffering he caused.

  She pushed her haversack into the alcove and clambered in behind it. Before shutting the hatch, she pulled the ladder up and wedged it inside the chimney shaft, out of sight of anyone taking a cursory look into the hearth. It wouldn’t buy her much time, but the habit of hiding her tracks may as well start now.

  Holding her Mentalios out, she found the tunnel to be as tight as she’d guessed. It would be a long trip on her hands and knees, though she’d have to either push her haversack before her or drag it behind. The noise it made could be an issue, confirming that the less time she spent in this space the better.

  She yanked a bit of twine free from the bag and tied the supplies to one ankle, then began her passage. Immediately, she spotted chalked arrows along the walls pointing onward. This must be how the children keep from getting lost. If I follow these, I’ll likely end up among them in their own chambers.

  This didn’t sound like the worst place she could go. Children would not be heavily guarded and would be easier to subdue—if she had to—than adults. And, if her luck held, she’d find another exit before reaching them.

  The secret passage was well-used, she could tell. The air though close was fresh, a
nd no cobwebs or the marks of other insects, or worse, rats, if Arc Rheunos had them, were obvious. That alone was enough to make her trust her luck a bit more. Scorch marks on the walls and the occasional discarded end of a rushlight showed her the manner in which the tunnel’s usual inhabitants lit their way. Keeping her own wystic pendant aglow cost her energy but little of it. Amazingly, she realized, she already felt stronger just at having found it. How much of her weakness had come from what Tuzhazu had done, and how much simply from evaporating hope?

  She pushed on through the passage for some time, though she had nothing to gauge it with, then a hole opened in the wall to one side that was just wide enough to squeeze through. Cautiously, she peeked out and found she’d come to a small room. Its size suggested it must have been some kind of storage room at one time. She’d lost her sense of direction quickly in the tunnel and now knew only that she was at least on the same floor as the healing chamber. She had to find a way up.

  She considered whether leaving the cramped tunnels here would get her closer to the main hall faster—and with fewer blind corners, which were beginning to get to her—and whispered a brighter flare from her Mentalios. With the added light, she saw a doorway at one end of the room that had sometime in the past been bricked over. It appeared to have been hastily done, and even from here she could see that the small bit of mortar used to keep the bricks in place had been poorly mixed. It looked like she could pick apart the crumbling material with her fingers. The brick blockage sagged on one side and seemed likely to topple from a single heaving breath. It might be a viable way out. Or it might be a good distraction from pursuers.

  The problem was that the opening to the room from the passage was above her head. If she jumped down, she’d have trouble getting back up. Not even an old crate lay about the floor that she could stand on. Yet, if she could break through the blockage and make it appear as if she’d escaped from the tunnels and gone this way, it could throw any searchers off her trail for a time.

  The question was, would she have more chance of remaining hidden in the tunnels or in the hall at large? She believed the tunnel would lead upward eventually. Inder hadn’t entered from this room, and her guess was the children lived near the chambers she’d met in Akeeva in. Likewise, the children wouldn’t bother drawing arrows to help them find their way if the tunnel was a single passage with one start and one end. And it provided much more concealment than the hallways were likely to.

  Also, if someone was on the other side of the blocked door, they’d hear her dismantling it, which would end any chances of using either the tunnels or escaping through the hall.

  Tormented by the decision that had to be made, she almost didn’t notice the sound coming her direction from farther down the tunnel. Movement. Scraping.

  Someone was coming.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Her decision about how to move forward had been made for her by the sound of someone in the passage, heading in her direction. She scrambled into the barricaded room before her heart beat again.

  Finding weapons of opportunity came naturally to a Knight, and the closest at hand were bricks. She found she’d been right about the mortar in the hastily bricked-over doorway and dug one free swiftly, then spun around to face whoever was coming. She only wished she had enough time to dig out one of her makeshift petards and ignite a rushlight fuse. Wishes are for romantics and poor planners, she could almost hear Stave admonishing her. And he was right. She had planned this poorly.

  The moment she’d lowered herself into the room, the sounds in the tunnel above ceased. Curious. She remained as still as a corpse, one brick-wielding hand raised, the other hand untying the quick-release knot she’d used to secure her haversack.

  Wise? Or scared? she wondered of the hesitating stranger.

  There was a chance it was Inder or another child in the passage, and whoever it was had heard her and realized they weren’t as alone as they’d thought. There was just as much of a chance it was a soldier. Even a Deathless. Had Tuzhazu received and opened her package yet? Did he know she was a fugitive yet?

  The waiting became insufferable, but she was patient. She had centuries behind her; what were a few moments more?

  Soon, a small, scared voice came down the tunnel. “If you had a daughter, what would you call her?”

  Oh this boy, he was clever indeed. She smiled, all the anxiety and fear she’d been holding disappearing like smoke. “Crumb. Her name would be Crumb.”

  There was no more hesitancy in the sounds of the boy coming toward the room. A moment later, he crouched in the opening above and looked at her. “My lady, did you find your pendant? My dad always told me stealing was wrong. It didn’t seem like the Archon should be stealing your necklace, so I brought it back to you.”

  She stepped up to him and held the Mentalios lens up, allowing its glow to spread over his face. “You are most kind, Inder. Thank you.”

  Fascination beamed from his wide eyes as he said, “I couldn’t get your blue stones. He keeps them in a pouch he always wears. I’m sorry. Are you feeling better?”

  It occurred to her then that the child may have seen what Tuzhazu had done to her with the Fenestros. That was not something a child should have witnessed, any more than he should have witnessed what Tuzhazu had done to his father. “I am. Much better. Can you help me through the tunnels? Tuzhazu doesn’t want me to go, but I think you know he is…not a kind man. It’s better for me if I’m not here.”

  Inder grew quiet, his face troubled. “He scares me,” he said simply.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry the Everlight never came to talk to you. We don’t see her much lately. It seems like…I don’t know, it seems like something’s going on but no one will tell us kids what.”

  “I see. And that’s why I should go. Your Everlight may not wish to aid me, as she has much bigger concerns than a traveler from another realm.”

  He seemed to accept this without question. “Where will you go?” he asked.

  “I need to find my way through the labyrinth back to the starpath valley. From there, I will search for Isemay.”

  “No one who leaves Minoth stays gone. The Deathless always hunt them down.”

  “Ah, maybe.” She changed the subject. “What I need most is a map.”

  “The Archon has lots of maps. A room full of them.”

  “This room, do you know how to get to it?”

  “It’s easy. It’s just below the children’s chambers above the main hall.”

  “…So, that means these tunnels go near it?”

  “No.”

  Of course it wouldn’t be so easy, she thought.

  “They go right to it.”

  This thrilled her, but only for a moment. The passages couldn’t be a secret from someone as long-lived and suspicious as Tuzhazu. She had to wonder what kind of traps he might have waiting for anyone who tried entering his planning chamber. The thought made her shudder. Kids. Kids could be harmed. Did he care? That answer didn’t need to be pondered.

  “Inder, you never go into his rooms through these tunnels, do you? Surely the Archon and the Everlight know of them.”

  “Oh, yes, they know of some. But we create new ones. All the time. The lessons Mistress Hertha and Master Pitaja teach are so dull. We have to do something for fun.”

  Maybe, just maybe there was a chance…

  “Will you show me?”

  “You-you won’t tell anyone?”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  He helped her hoist the haversack up. It took four tries, but she finally managed to get a running start and jump high enough up the wall to get her hands on the opening’s edge. Though her arm muscles strained and threatened to give out, she held on and pulled herself in, then leaned back against the passageway wall for a moment to catch her breath. Inder waited quietly, almost too quietly, and she wondered if he was second-guessing his decision. She turned to face him and gave him
the winningest smile she could muster, hoping she projected more confidence than she felt.

  It seemed to work well enough. “Are you ready, Miss Vinnric?”

  “As I’ll ever be. Lead the way, lad.”

  They carried on through the tunnels, and Symvalline struggled to keep up. He was smaller, more limber, and not dragging supplies with him. She clenched her jaw and followed without a word, knowing how tenuous his help was.

  Fortunately, the passages soon brought them to a series of ladders leading up to new floors. She supposed boys couldn’t use wings in the narrow tunnels, making the ladders necessary. Now and then, the sounds of music or voices warned Symvalline that they were close to the Minothian court. She could not let her caution wander.

  At one point, he said, almost casually, but in a tone that showed he was clearly resigned to the idea: “I guess this means you won’t get to show us how you make the blue stones fly.”

  “I’m sorry, Inder. Maybe someday, but I have to find my daughter first. She may be in danger.”

  “I know. I-I heard the Archon when he hurt you.”

  Symvalline would have given up her klinkí stones altogether if she could have protected the child from that sight. This realm may have been struck with a deadly disease, but Tuzhazu was the real plague.

  She didn’t want to make promises or utter accusations, but she felt a need, inexplicably, to try to give the boy some kind of hope. “In my own realm, we are solicitous of how the Archons conduct themselves. All of us in all the realms take an oath to protect the vessels of our Verities. If Tuzhazu is conducting himself in a way that is contrary to the oath he took, he will someday be stripped of his title and his role as Archon, and he will be held accountable for things he’s done.”

  It was a weak comfort, and she knew it. But this wasn’t a situation she had ever expected to be in. Being a Knight Corporealis, protector and servant to her own Verity, had been a long and at times arduous deed in her own realm, but she’d never met a Knight who wasn’t up to the task or who had failed their Verity. It had never occurred to her that someone might one day have to hold a misguided or malicious Knight or Archon accountable. Only the Verities could rescind the spark that each Knight was endowed with upon being ordained. A rogue Knight would be a formidable enemy if they retained their spark. And Tuzhazu was such. And worse, he would be harder to bring to justice as long as he wielded Balavad’s Fenestros.