Thurvin chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “This is perfect.” He spun toward Henton. “The wizards will arrive tomorrow. When they do, break camp and advance on Starmuth. While Forca remains in charge of the wizards, he will report to you. Do what you must to take the city.”
“Wizards?” Despaldi asked.
“Yes. Malvorian has decided it is time for the wizards of Farrowen to take an active hand in his plot. With their backing, Henton’s army should be able to take the entire wizardom by mid-winter.”
Garvin considered this revelation. It had been centuries since wizards had become involved in a war. The thought of being caught between opposing factions gave him a chill. Still, taking Fastella will be no easy task. He hoped Henton had put some thought into capturing the great city; otherwise, many soldiers could die in the effort. First, they needed to get past Starmuth.
“Despaldi,” Thurvin said. “You and I will escort our prisoners and our prize to Marquithe. How soon before you are prepared to depart?”
Eyes narrowed, Despaldi stared at the short wizard. The captain’s gaze flicked toward Garvin before returning to Thurvin. “My men and I need a meal and fresh horses. Give us an hour.”
“Perfect.” Thurvin stepped to the tent flap and looked back over his shoulder. “Be ready to ride. I prefer to return to Marquithe as soon as possible.”
The wizard ducked out, the flap swinging shut before Henton turned toward Despaldi. “I’m to be saddled with nursing a pack of spoiled wizards. It seems you got the better end of this deal.”
Despaldi grunted. “I am not so sure.” He glanced at the three prisoners. “Thurvin is a schemer. His eagerness to return to Marquithe makes me wonder about his agenda.”
Henton clasped Despaldi on the shoulder, then stepped toward the tent entrance. “It appears we each have our own worries. Take care and watch your back.”
“You, too, Henton.”
The man slipped out, leaving Garvin alone with Despaldi and the captives.
“What do you think, sir?” Garvin asked. He could see something weighing on his captain.
“I think Malvorian has emptied his coin purse on the table and is about to show his hand. I just hope this doesn’t backfire on him…or us.” He turned and strolled to the table before plopping down into a chair. “I need eyes on the war. I mostly trust Henton, but I don’t trust Forca or the others. I want you and a handful of the Guard to support Henton while watching for duplicity.” He picked up the amulet by the cord. The metal disk swung back and forth like a pendulum, spinning slowly as he stared at it. “The rest of us will return to Marquithe and see how Malvorian intends to proceed.”
The tent flap opened, Thurvin reappearing with a leather-wrapped bundle in his arms. Without pause, he crossed and set the bundle on the table. “I know you well enough to suspect you will leave some men with the army – someone to watch the wizards and protect your interests.”
Despaldi shrugged. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without being careful.”
Thurvin snickered. “Good. You must entrust this to someone who can bear the responsibility.”
“That person stands beside you,” the captain replied while gesturing toward Garvin. “What’s in the package?”
Unwrapping the leather, the wizard stepped back to reveal four sapphires – each far larger than any gem Garvin had ever seen.
Thurvin lifted one of the gems, eyeing it. “Once inside the walls of Starmuth, someone must scale the obelisk and replace the amethyst with one of these.”
Despaldi picked up another and rotated the massive gem. “What will it do?”
Thurvin grinned. “With it in place, the people of Starmuth will have a new god, and the wizard lord of Farrowen will become the mightiest wizard in the world.”
Garvin gaped as he realized what his wizard lord had planned. Malvorian already had the power of a god. Soon, he would have the power of two.
8
Misdirection
Rhoa’s mouth was dry, her shoulders sore. With her hands shackled behind her back, her wrists on the other side of the tent post, comfort was difficult to manage, despite her natural flexibility. She wondered at how Rawk’s thick shoulders must feel or how much longer Salvon could stand.
When the wizard named Thurvin left the tent, Despaldi turned toward the remaining soldier. “I am soon to depart. Notify the Midnight Guard who just returned with us. Choose five to remain with you. The others will ride with me, but should eat before we leave. Get yourself a meal, then return here with something for the prisoners. I’m sure they are hungry, as well.”
Garvin stepped to the tent entrance, pausing when Despaldi said, “Send Patton and Dokken in here with full waterskins.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier ducked through the tent flap, leaving only Despaldi.
The man looked at Rhoa. She glared back in defiance. Moving closer, he pulled her gag down to her neck.
She coughed and spat. “Water.”
He arched a brow. “Isn’t it interesting how you ignore your circumstance in favor of such a mundane, yet primal need?”
“Please,” she croaked.
Ignoring her, the man removed Rawk’s gag before moving on to Salvon. The old man staggered when Despaldi tugged on the gag.
“He is old,” Rhoa said. “Give him a chair or something. Show some compassion.”
“Compassion.” Despaldi said the word as if were sour on his tongue. “While it is a noble quality, it will lead you to disappointment and misery. Compassion can easily be mistaken for weakness. If you show weakness, predators will only consider you prey.”
Two armored guards entered, each carrying a bulging waterskin. With a gesture from Despaldi, the men walked over, one placing a skin to Rhoa’s mouth. When he tipped it up, she drank with urgency. The water was cool, refreshing, and delightful. Some of it trickled from her mouth, running down her chin and onto her tunic. She didn’t care. When he lowered the skin, she gasped for air and watched as he moved to stand in front of Rawk to give the Maker a sip. The other guard finished with Salvon, the old man coughing after taking a drink.
“Cap the waterskins and leave them on the table,” Despaldi said. “You are dismissed.”
The men did as requested and slipped back outside. The tent fell quiet.
Rhoa watched the captain as he scribbled something on a sheet of paper. The amulet lay on the table beside him – the fake amulet.
“It doesn’t work, you know,” she said.
He looked up at her. “What are you talking about?”
“The amulet. It doesn’t do anything.”
The man leaned back with a calculating glare. “Yet Taladain is dead.”
Rhoa didn’t reply.
“You expect me to believe you killed a wizard lord, a man with the power of a god, without protection from the man’s magic?”
He cannot know of my secret. Rhoa craned her neck toward Salvon, his eyes meeting hers for an instant before he nodded.
“I can explain,” Salvon blurted
Despaldi stood and strolled past Rhoa, settling a stride before Salvon. “Garvin tells me you are a storyteller. I think this is a story I would enjoy hearing.”
Salvon replied, “You must believe me. Killing Taladain was not our idea. We are merely performers, hired by a man named Jerrell Landish.”
Despaldi grunted. “I recognize the name.”
Salvon took a breath and continued. “This Landish character paid us to perform for Taladain while he watched, disguised as a servant. I believe he intended it as a distraction so he could…” Salvon shook his head. “We are performers. Nothing more.”
Despaldi began to pace. The tent was quiet save for the man’s footsteps on the trampled ground. Finally, he stopped, his brow furrowed. “So you are saying Landish killed Taladain?”
Salvon shrugged. “The man mentioned a contract taken out on the wizard lord.”
“I know something of the contract.” Despaldi stepped closer. “If he killed Taladain, what a
bout this?” He held the necklace out, the amulet spinning about.
“Rhoa told you the truth. The amulet you hold is a fake,” Salvon replied.
“A replica?”
“Yes. The thief has the real one.”
Brow furrowed, Despaldi resumed his pacing. After two circuits, he stopped again. “What of Princess Narine? She was with you when you entered Starmuth.”
“Yes. She paid us to smuggle her out of Fastella. She disappeared shortly after we arrived at Starmuth. Charcoan’s guards stormed the inn where we were staying, but she had fled. We haven’t seen her since.”
“Was the princess there?” Despaldi stepped closer. “Did she help kill her father as the rumors report?”
Rhoa blurted, “She hated the man.”
Smiling, Despaldi replied, “Of that, I have no doubt. I had suspected a rift between Narine, her father, and her brother had driven her to the University in the first place.”
Despaldi stared at the amulet in his palm for a long moment before turning toward his table. He picked up a key and walked back to Rhoa, gripping her arm harshly and turning her back toward him, unlocking her shackles.
“Ouch!” Rhoa cried. “You’re hurting me!”
“Let her go, you swine!” Rawk snarled with surprising ferocity.
“So, little man, you can speak after all.” Despaldi spun Rhoa around and relocked her shackles. “I had begun to wonder.”
Gripping her upper arm, the amulet in his other hand, he pulled Rhoa toward the tent entrance.
“Where are you taking her?” Rawk asked.
Rhoa was struck by the concern in Rawk’s voice. Her gaze met his for a brief instant before Despaldi replied.
“We are off to see a wizard. I must know the truth.”
The man pulled Rhoa outside and paused to speak to the two guards posted near the tent. “The other two prisoners are inside. Watch and make sure they do not escape.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the men said in a deep voice before ducking inside.
Tents covered the grounds, most of them large enough to fit four to six soldiers. Warriors dressed in leather armor with silver plates roamed the area…some in clusters, some marching in ranks, others sparring in the distance. Rhoa then spotted the group who had escorted her to the camp, the men’s dark blue capes standing out. The Midnight Guard, the squad who reported to Despaldi and nobody else. From the stories she had heard, those men were the best of the lot, highly skilled and specially trained.
The captain dragged her across the camp, toward Henton’s tent. Without pausing, he strode past the two guards near the entrance and pulled her inside. Henton was in discussion with the wizard she had seen earlier.
“Thurvin,” Despaldi said, interrupting the two men. “We have a problem.”
The short, dark-haired wizard frowned. “What sort of problem?”
Holding the amulet up, he replied, “She claims this is a fake.”
Thurvin’s squinty eyes narrowed further as he rubbed his chin. “We will need to prove it. I cannot risk returning to Marquithe with a fake amulet. Malvorian would react quite poorly.”
“On both accounts, I agree.”
“What do you suggest?”
Despaldi turned toward Rhoa and slipped the necklace over her head. “Use your magic on her. What better means to reveal the truth?”
“Wait!” Rhoa said in a panic.
With a growl, Despaldi gripped her upper arms. “You will do this.” The man’s intense glare left no doubt he was serious. “Or I will run my sword through you, and we will do it as you lie dying on the ground.”
Rhoa grit her teeth and glared at him while her mind raced. Without the protection of the true amulet, she was relying on what Salvon had told her in a conversation ten days past, the moment replaying in her head.
“There exists a prophecy, ancient and quite unique. Among many things in this augury is the prediction that the human race will one day see an anomaly – people who exist outside of magic and are immune to the illusion.”
Rhoa’s brow furrowed. “You are saying I am one of those people?”
Salvon smiled. “I have suspected it for many years. My lute was the first clue.” He pointed toward the weapons strapped to her thighs. “The fulgur blades confirmed my suspicion.”
Rhoa wished she had the fulgur blades now, but the knives had been confiscated, along with the rest of their belongings. Without a means to escape or fight back, she would have to rely on Salvon’s belief she was immune to magic. Recalling her encounter with Taladain, whose magic had not affected her, she found hope.
“Do what you will. I’ll not back down from the likes of you,” she snarled.
Thurvin chuckled. “Very well. We will discover the truth, and it won’t be subtle. Stand back, Despaldi.”
The three men backed away, leaving Rhoa alone in the middle of the tent. She glanced down at the amulet and closed her eyes, praying to the gods that she would be protected. When she opened them, she saw Thurvin staring at her in concentration, his arms extended toward her, hands weaving. A burst of fire shot toward Rhoa, enveloping her, blinding all else from view. Yet the only heat she felt came from beside her when the nearby tent post burst into flames. The blaze licked up the wooden pole, and the white canvas caught fire. The flames from the wizard stopped as she backed away from the burning pole.
Thurvin and the two men who towered over him gaped in shock.
“It worked,” Despaldi breathed out. “The amulet protected her.”
“Incredible,” Thurvin whispered.
“My tent!” Henton exclaimed, waving the smoke from his face as he coughed. “You idiot! You destroyed my tent!”
The two guards burst in, eyes widening at the burning tent post and canvas, flames spreading while black smoke filled the interior.
“What happened?” one of the guards exclaimed.
“Don’t worry about that,” Henton exclaimed. “Help me get my stuff out of here!”
Despaldi walked over to Rhoa, gripped the amulet, and lifted it over her head, his gaze never leaving the shiny disk. He then dropped its cord over his own head and turned toward the wizard.
“Let’s get out of here.” Despaldi grabbed Rhoa by the arm and dragged her outside.
Coughing, Thurvin hurried to follow. Once outside, he passed Despaldi and stopped before him, blocking his path. “You cannot keep the amulet.”
Stepping closer, Despaldi loomed over Thurvin with his chest in the shorter man’s face. “Well, I am not giving it to you,” he sneered, glaring down at the wizard. “While I wear the amulet, you hold no sway over me, little man. It will remain with me until we reach Marquithe. Then we shall see what Malvorian has planned.”
The captain stomped off toward his tent, dragging Rhoa with him. She glanced backward at Thurvin, the wizard glaring at Despaldi’s back with raw hatred in his eyes.
9
Perception
Narine stood at the ship’s rail, her hair tied back in a braid. Even then, the wind blew stray strands in her face, tickling her nose and forcing her to blink. With her stomach apparently adapted to the motion of the sea, she watched the two people fight near the bow, providing entertainment for both her and the ship’s crew.
Jace wiped the blood from his lip and stretched his jaw. Adyn grinned at him while blood oozed from her nose. Her teeth were bloody, the smile startlingly malicious. She spun and snapped a kick intended to take his head off. He ducked and swept his leg, but she deftly leapt over it. Completing her turn, another kick came around as he rose. He fell backward, her boot just missing his head, and landed on his rear. She followed with a stomp aimed at his exposed groin, but he spun sideways, her heel narrowly missing as it struck the deck with a thud.
Jace scrambled away and rose to his feet warily. “That would have hurt.”
“Which one?” She grinned. “The kick in the head or the heel in the crotch?”
“Both.”
The fighting had gone on for a few
minutes, yet neither of them had landed more than a half-dozen blows. With each assault, Narine found herself on edge. Adyn was her best friend, and Jace was, well…Jace. She worried one might injure the other more significantly than intended. Worse, it might be irreparable.
Stepping away from the rail, Narine approached them. “Are you two finished? If you go too far, you may do something I can’t heal.”
Adyn lowered her fists, her stance relaxing. “I suppose you would be upset if I injured your boyfriend too badly.”
Narine gasped inwardly. She noticed Jace jerk backward as if struck by a blow, but ignored it, glaring at her bodyguard.
“I…,” Narine stammered, searching for a response. “He… Why would you say something like that?”
Adyn’s grin widened. “Because it’s fun to see your reaction.”
Narine looked at Jace and shook her head. “See what I must deal with?”
He rubbed his jaw. It likely hurt from Adyn’s assault. “Yes. I feel your pain.”
“Speaking of which,” Narine offered, “would either of you like to be healed?”
Adyn felt her nose, moving it back and forth. “It’s not broken.” She shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”
“Well, you look a mess.” Narine turned toward Jace, the sun shining on his dark hair. “What about you?”
He worked his unshaven jaw. “I’ll forego the magic, if you don’t mind.”
Narine shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Oddly, she found herself disappointed.
“However, a kiss might make me feel better.” He grinned.
The memory of their kiss in the glade resurfaced, her cheeks heating. To cover her reaction, she rolled her eyes and turned away. “It’s like there are two of you.” She glared at Adyn. “I would blame you for corrupting him, but he’s obviously been depraved for quite some time.”
Adyn laughed. “In all honesty, he may have been a bad influence on me. You should have heard the story he told while we finished the bottle of brandy last night.”
The princess shook her head as if disgusted, although it didn’t feel convincing. “I don’t know how you two can drink while on a ship. It took me two days before I could even eat.”
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