by Ember Lane
“If you let me stick around, I’ll teach you all I know.”
“Let you?”
He stood up, stretched his back out, and stared up at the sky. “Let me,” he repeated, and trudged off toward the hut. “Just in case you hadn’t realized it, you’re kinda running the show.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring after him. “I did not know that,” I said to myself, and then pushed off in hot pursuit.
The log cabin already had smoke coming from its chimney by the time Sedge and I made it. He’d run low on energy twice more and we’d rested up. I’d told him to eat something, but he said we were already low on food, and he didn’t want to hog it all. It seemed he was the real deal, Sedge, and I could see no reason not to have him stick around. We near enough fell through the door and into a single room around twenty by twenty. It was plenty big enough for all of us, yet still small enough to keep warm. As soon as we were inside, it hit me how cold I was, how frozen my feet were, my hands, and my cheeks. Glenwyth was crouching by the fire; her whole body was shaking. Cathelina draped a thick, furry hide over her.
“She’s not used to this weather; not at all. Elves—apart from the mountain variety—don’t fare well in the snow.”
I crouched beside her. “Would a health potion help?” I asked.
“The cold,” she muttered, “it got into my bones.”
Sedge sprang straight into action. He pulled a blanket from his sack and draped it over her knees, then pulled her sodden boots off and popped them on the hearth to dry. Hovering his hand over his sack again, a couple of pairs of wooly socks appeared. He rolled a pair onto Glenwyth’s feet. “Seriously, do elves not wear socks?” Glenwyth chuffed out a laugh, as did I. I kept my eye on the other pair of socks, making a fuss out of pulling my own boots off.
“Fortunately,” Cathelina’s voice rang out from behind. “This is a hunter’s lodge. It is stocked with food and firewood by the previous occupant, so we should be warm, dry, and fed.” She held up a half dozen frozen fish. “We’ll have to replace all before we leave in the morning, but that is the way of things. “Sedge?”
Sedge reached out and took the fish. “Just let me get a little energy back first. Seems I conserved our food for no reason.”
Yeah, Sedge was too good to be true. I saw Mezzerain eyeing him, and Star looking him up and down. His good deeds were being met by suspicion, and that told me a lot about the true nature of this land—this odd land—that could, in one magical moment, take your breath away with its beauty, but in the next, veer so far toward evil that the beauty was replaced by its crawling, evil shadows.
Glenwyth settled, and Sedge turned his attention to cooking the fish. “So,” said Cathelina, breaking the silence. “You’ll need some kind of plan for when you get in there.”
“We?” I said.
Cathelina smiled. “If I were to come with you, well, you would all be arrested before you had even gained the island. So, you need a plan and a cover. It is a route to Atremeny or Kobane—Irydia at a push, though you’d have no reason to cross into Shyantium for that path.”
“A trade envoy to Atremeny then?” Sedge said, without turning from the fire.
Cathelina shrugged. “That would get you to the merchant quarters alone. The passage through is monitored quite closely.”
“I have contacts there,” Star suddenly said. “I could assume my real persona and demand access to the combined embassies of the Lowlands, but I doubt I could explain why we are on foot.”
Cathelina pondered that. “Emissaries, yes, that might work. We have a Valkyrian—Petreyen?” she said, looking at me. I sighed and nodded. Playing a Petreyen had never exactly worked out for me. Cathelina looked at Glenwyth. “Perhaps you could have assisted Mezzerain crossing the mists?”
“Too complicated,” Star pointed out. “Lets just say that Alexa is Thameerian, Glenwyth is from Cormeyour, Sedge represents the Players Guild of the Lowlands, and Mezzerain has traveled through the mists to warn us of ShadowDancer’s intent. Tell them Valkyrie has fallen—that should put the fear of Poleyna in them.”
Cathelina nodded. “That will get you to the embassy quarter and an interview with Merran at the very least. I’ll tweak Alexa’s concealment after we’ve eaten. She has far too much to reveal.”
I rolled my eyes. It was always me…
“So we’re in the embassy, what then?” Mezzerain asked.
“Hopefully,” Star said, “Alexa tells us where the boy is located. I make contact with…our people on the inside, and we go get him. I’ll have the embassy prearrange our escape. Should be quite straightforward. Wizards aren’t known for their common sense.”
“Eh?” I said.
“Minimum requirement,” Sedge muttered.
“For a wizard—not at all. They might have all the intelligence, but they have no street smarts. That’s how Merran’s in charge. He’s, by all accounts, an average wizard, but he has a grasp on the politics. That’s why Shylan got banished—he knew too much magic for his own good. He undermined Merran’s authority.”
“What about Cronis?” I asked Star.
Cathelina laughed. “This is priceless.”
Star grinned. “Cronis was asked to leave after an incident.”
“What?” I said, a grin managing to force its way onto my lips.
“Well, shortly after Shylan was banished, Merran was walking through the university gardens when, by all accounts, a large slug started following him. He changed paths, skipped across lawns, and even took a boat across the park’s lake. But every time he thought he’d given the slug the slip, it reappeared and just followed him, constantly remaining a few feet behind.
“Merran tried magic, but the slug was enchanted. He tried chopping at it with a sword, but the slug just remade itself and carried on following him. Eventually, with the slimy creature driving him insane, he began to inspect its magic, and that magic had Cronis’ signature.”
“So, what did he do?” I asked.
“He had Cronis dragged before him and that was no mean feat. The old wizard nearly destroyed a quarter of the city on his way. Eventually, he stood before Merran with the slug between them. He demanded Cronis make the thing vanish. Cronis told him that only he could do that—that only the focus of the slug’s intent could cast it back to where it came from and, humbly, told Merran the casting ritual. Then Merran asked Cronis where it came from, and Cronis told him. So Merran cast it back there.”
I scratched my head. “Why was that so bad?”
Cathelina laughed. “Because Cronis told him it came from ‘where the sun don’t shine,’ and Merran only realized what he’d done as the slug crawled up his leg.”
At first, I shivered at the thought, but then I burst out laughing. Mezzerain was chuckling away. “I knew there was something special about that old man.”
Even Glenwyth had a wry smile on her face.
“Poor slug,” said Sedge, and announced that the fish was done.
We ate, and I told them about the vale, about how Cronis had blown himself up before I got there and about his ale-barrel telescope. I told them of The Auguries, and his love for Poleyna, and throughout it, I realized how much I missed the grouchy, old wizard. The night drew in, and we all settled down to sleep on the wooden floor. Just before we dozed, Star pointed out that we still hadn’t come up with a reason why we were on foot.
Cathelina stood and walked over to me. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I think I’ve come up with quite the plan.” She sat beside me. “Sit up, it is time we trained your concealment.”
25
A Wizard’s Welcome
It was a city of sandstone-colored buildings, yet that rock seemed so out of place in this nest of rugged, gray mountains. The stone balustrades that lined the bridge before us were of that color too, yet the road was just gray gravel, strewn up from the mountain pass we stood on. Behind us, a huge avalanche blocked our retreat. We staggered forward.
City guards, dressed in the mauve
livery of Shyantium burst forward toward us, but pulled up just shy, their pikes pointing nervously at Mezzerain.
“Stand!” one shouted, and so we stood still. Star took a step closer. The guards regarded her with ill-concealed suspicion.
“Is this how you rescue desperate travelers?” she asked.
“How do we know you didn’t cause it yourself?” one of the soldier’s spat back.
I noticed a kerfuffle on the bridge and saw a man barging his way through a now milling crowd. The avalanche had caused a mighty crack that resounded around the valley. He was dressed in robes similar to the wizards in the valley over the mountain fang, but his robes had large mauve flashes all over.
He sniffed the air. “Magic!” he announced. “Seize them!”
Star was on him in a flash, pulling him around, pointing up at the mountain. “Not us!” she barked. “Her…”
Cathelina was standing on a jutting, gray rock looking down at the avalanche, her staff in her hand, its top spraying crackling emerald magic around.
“A Loremaster!” the wizard cried and started backing away. “Heretic!” he spat up at her, turned and ran.
The guards bundled us forward, Mezzerain and all, and we were shooed across the bridge and over the lake, toward the wizard’s lair. I looked back, but Cathelina had already vanished. The extent of her interference already bordering on what she could and couldn’t do. In the end, she’d just caused an avalanche, and then just stood in plain sight, so I supposed she was in the clear.
It was good to know that the wizards of Shyantium were such brave souls.
“We’re in,” Sedge whispered to me and Glenwyth about halfway across the bridge.
Star had taken the lead, marching forward like she owned the place. Mezzerain was in her shadow, a protector, and us three followed behind. A group of wizards had gathered at the bridge’s end. The one who had run was in their midst, trying to rally them to his call. The city guards were milling around, appearing reluctant to advance. Star walked straight up to them.
“There is no threat to this place. The Loremaster has failed, and she has gone,” Star announced.
“But why was she here in the first place?” A wizard asked.
“To stop us getting here. We have dire news from the Lowlands,” Star said simply, but my focus was drawn away from her and to a hooded man with a slight stoop, who was standing just to the side of the bridge’s start. He looked at me, looked through me, and then turned and began walking away. I saw Sedge, Mezzerain, and Glenwyth had all crowded around Star; everyone was focused on her. Edging across the back of them all, I slid through the gathering throng.
The hooded man, the Thameerian that Flip and I had seen in Merrivale—how could he be here? Yet though I could hardly see him, I knew. The crowd spat me out into a triangular plaza—a road leading straight ahead, with two headed diagonally away. I looked up each of them but couldn’t see him. I saw a path that led away along the riverbank with a set of steps leading down to it. The hooded man was running along it.
I glanced back, but no one had noticed I’d gone. I looked down the steps. He was getting away. Bounding down them two at a time, I jumped the last few and landed on the track. A tall, yellow wall, topped with crumbling crenellations—clearly not for defense—edged the path. It ran the length of what I could see, with black pillars along it—no doubt the shadows of alleyways leading away.
There was no way the Thameerian, or whomever he was, was going to best me at running. I gritted my teeth but smiled through them as I thought of Petroo. As I bounded after him, he chanced a peek behind, then ducked off into one of the shadows. I skidded to a halt, looking down the gloomy way. It was a narrow alley, perhaps four feet wide, with walls on either side. The Thameerian was around fifty yards down it. I looked quickly back toward the bridge, then down the alley, torn by my choice. But I didn’t want to lose this man—I wanted to know what he’d been up to.
“Hold on!” I hollered, and I crept into the alley, quickening my hesitant steps to a nervous jog. I began to catch him, but then my senses came alive. Without hardly thinking, I cast Arcane Shield, drew my sword and turned, hoping to see Sedge Prentice or Mezzerain, Glenwyth, or Star.
A woman stood before me, her hood covering much of her face, though I could at least tell she was young. She had her booted feet set slightly apart, and her bow was nocked, its arrow pointing straight at my heart.
I looked behind me. The Thameerian had turned, and was now walking toward me. He was babbling as though he was incoherent, and his stoop seemed more pronounced. He came right up to me, nearly toe to toe, and I faced him, strangely oblivious to the arrow aimed at my back.
The man looked up, and I saw his sallow face, stretched like parchment over the bone of his skull. I searched out his sunken eyes but saw just glints of blue in their shadows.
“Marked and meddled,” he wheezed. “Just like I foretold. Poke her in the back, Jade; let’s get her back to the house. Oh...” He raised a bony finger. “Drop that vile abomination you call an Arcane Shield back into that swirling abyss you call a mana pool. You’re advancing, but you’re still pathetic.”
He swiveled around and marched off. I felt an arrow poke me in the back and briefly wondered if they worked that close-up. Remembering Marista’s warning about not dying, I decided not to test it.
We marched through a small maze of deserted alleys, and I doubted that I’d be able to find my way back to the lake or the bridge. I also tried the usual pleas—“What do you want?” “There’ll be hell to pay if my friends find you.”—that sort of thing, but Jade wasn’t the most talkative. Eventually, the Thameerian —though by this time I was doubting his origins—pushed a back gate open, and I followed him into a paved backyard.
“This is our guild’s house,” the hooded man explained. “Our guild is not the most favored in Shyantium.” He scrunched his face up and sank to his knees, clutching at his chest. “No! Not now, not now, not now,” he wailed.
I heard the gate shut, and turned to look at the archer, wondering what the hell was going on. She’d pushed her hood back, and was now flicking her eyes between the wailing wizard and me. Mousy-brown hair cascaded around her tawny skin, and wide, oval eyes stared through its stray strands.
“He’s lost to us for a while. Please...” She held her hand out, directing me toward the house.
“Why would I go in there?” I demanded, stiffening; my hand on the pommel of my sword.
“There are many reasons, but you will come without me having to explain them out here.”
I glanced at the gate and saw my escape was clear. I looked down at the wizard, and knew he was no threat. Jade had shouldered her bow. Dithering, I knew she was right. Curiosity and me were longtime friends.
Two yellow-bricked steps led to a wooden door. Just as I reached it, it swung open and a young man in a brown robe similar to the others ushered me in. Mismatched furniture, books lying randomly on a marble-tiled floor, discarded plates, and an ash-filled hearth greeted me.
“We’re not the tidiest,” said the man who’d opened the door, and he loped over to a chair by a table and sat. “You hungry?”
I edged into the room. The girl, Jade, squeezed past me. “We got bread. If you’ve been traveling cross-country, you probably haven’t had any bread. You want bread?”
She sat next to her companion. A new bout of wailing erupted in the garden.
“Don’t mind Draylane—he’s as mad as a box of frogs.”
“Draylane?” I’d heard that name before. Krakus... Krakus had mentioned it. My eyes were drawn to a blue, clay plate with a guttered candle on it. “Draylane,” I muttered, and wandered over, taking a seat at their table.
“He told us you would come,” said the boy. “Though we didn’t expect such a grand entrance. Your friends have been taken to the Lowlands Embassy. Tzia Tzeng hardly flinched when she noticed you’d gone.”
“Tzia Tzeng?”
“The spy known as Star,” Jade sai
d absently, as if the whole thing was boring her, and she kicked her feet up onto the table. “Look, Draylane told us you were coming, just as he told us The Thief was coming. He wants us to help you, and so we will.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
Jade grunted a laugh. “Us? The Guildless, The Outcasts. Us? We are nothing.”
“Well,” the man said. “I’d best go get word to your friends, before they make some kind of official complaint to Merran and the city council.”
I jumped up. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“We’re busy.” An unearthly growl came from behind me. I turned slowly and saw Draylane had come in. “Busy saving your lives. Busy saving this whole land. Off you go Samuel. I’d suggest they pick the player—he’ll be easier to sneak around the town. The Valkyrian is too much of a lump, and the elf—well—they’re aren’t any in this city, they were killed off a long while ago.”
“Bring back?” I asked, as Samuel left.
“Liaison,” Draylane said. “The Thief you know as the boy, Pog, has not had a good time. He hasn’t got a clue who to trust and who to fear so he fears everyone. If we are to help him, the only way is to find someone he truly trusts—that, missy, is you.”
“And what would you do to help him?”
“Sit, sit,” Draylane beckoned me. “I have to make the most of my lucid moments. Jade! Have we got any wine?”
“Some red,” she said as she dumped her feet from the table and stomped out of the room, soon returning with some wine, three tumblers, and a plate of cheese and bread. “Told you we had bread,” she crowed. “Few have. Grain’s not getting through from Irydia now, but we’ve got…sources in the market.”
“Jade!” Draylane bellowed. “Enough. Now…where was I?”
I grabbed some bread and cheese, taking a huge bite out of it. Sedge was on the way. I didn’t think they were planning on killing me, and they appeared to have a rough idea of Pog’s predicament. And I was hungry—starving, in fact.
“So, Pog’s predicament?”