She stares at me for a moment before sighing and nodding her head in agreement. "Fine. You have a point. But how are we going to get back? Walk?"
I slide the hatchet into my belt loop then move to retrieve my bow and quiver. "You'll ride with me," I reply, slinging them onto my shoulder and tucking the demon's claw carefully into my belt.
It takes some time to locate my mare, but eventually I find her grazing in a small meadow about a hundred yards from our position. She is a little spooked, but I manage to soothe her enough to allow me to remove my saddle bags to make room for Zara.
As I work, I mentally memorize our location for future reference, visualizing a map of the Emberwood in my mind.
Elias is going to be so surprised when I show him the body of an actual demon. It is nice to know that I am not crazy after all.
Battered and exhausted from the day's events, we mount up and begin making our way back to the game trail, navigating our way through the trees toward Forest Hill. We agree to ride hard into the night in order to bring news of the darkhound to Elva and Elias as quickly as possible.
Taking one last look around, I kick my heels into the horse's flanks and we are off, traveling eastward through the woods as fast as I dare to go.
Fortunately, the day is still early enough to give us several hours of sunlight. This allows us to complete a large stretch of the journey before it gets dark.
Zara's hands clasp my sides as we ride, and I am surprised to find her presence rather pleasant. She handled herself quite well back there, I think to myself, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine. In fact, I would probably be dead if she had not come along. Though, I probably wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with if she hadn't insisted that I take her out here.
Still, she is the only person who believed my story, and because of her we now know that somehow demons are getting through the Arc. I only hope that we are not too late to do something about it. Hopefully there is still time for us to fix the problem.
The adrenaline I felt from fighting the darkhound begins to quickly evaporate as we ride, leaving me feeling sore and drained. As a result, we fall into a brooding silence.
I am forced to slow our pace when the sun goes down, fearing that my own horse's leg will break on an unseen rock. However, we still make excellent time and see the lights of Forest Hill a little before midnight.
"We're here," I announce to Zara as I guide my horse onto a hard-packed road. The poor mare is lathered and winded, but I push her onward. She'll be able to rest soon enough.
"Good," she replies wearily. "I can't tell if I'm more sore from fighting the demon or from bouncing in this bloody saddle."
I can't help but agree.
We ride up the hill, our little road joining up with the main one taking us through the heart of town. I don’t know if Elias is at the inn or out running patrols around the outer farms, so I decide to head straight for the governor's manor. Zara's Arch-magister will know what to do.
The town is mostly deserted, which is understandable due to the late hour. However, I do notice a few townsfolk-turned-sentries wandering about, carrying old weapons and eyeing us suspiciously. Apparently the attack on the inn is being taken seriously, I think, speeding past the makeshift guards and making it to the top, where we are finally able to dismount and stretch our muscles.
"Good girl," I say to the horse, who is huffing in exhaustion.
"C'mon," Zara says, gesturing to the front door of the mansion. "We've no time to lose."
I lead my mare to the stalls, making sure it has plenty of feed and water before following Zara up the wooden steps to the entrance. When we arrive, she opens the door without bothering to knock.
The inside of the large house is dark, but Zara seems to know where she is going so I follow her in without a word.
We turn a corner and enter a hallway where I can see light pouring out of a partially opened door. Approaching the doorway, Zara peeks inside and asks in a low voice, "Arch-magister?"
"Enter," is the terse reply, and both of us walk in without hesitation.
Arch-magister Elva Tyrande is sitting behind a large wooden desk, looking over an assortment of maps, scrolls, and books spread all over its surface. She looks up at us with a stern expression, and her eyes narrow as she focuses on Zara.
"Initiate Dennel," she states formally. Something about the way she says it makes Zara cringe. "I was starting to think that you had defected from the Conclave. I was about to issue a warrant to retrieve your talisman."
Zara blanches. "I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything, Arch-magister. Please forgive me. I can assure you that I had the best interests of the Conclave at heart."
The icy-faced woman turns her stern gaze on me. "And you," she says flatly, "no doubt aided in my ward's disappearance. I had a feeling that you would be trouble from the moment we interviewed you."
Interviewed? I think you mean interrogated.
I keep my mouth shut.
"Please, Arch-magister, you have to listen," Zara blurts out, not giving the elder mage a chance to interject. "I asked Ranger Lund to escort me to the location where he claimed he saw the demon. Something about his story piqued my curiosity. When we were out there I saw the deer, and it was just as he said it was. It was a horrible sight."
As she goes on the words come out faster, Zara's tone becoming more urgent. "When we were just about to return to Forest Hill we heard a howling sound, something terrible that I had never heard before. That's when we saw it. A real, live demon here in the Emberwood! It was a darkhound, a sort of shadowling not seen since the Doom of Byhalya! Owyn was telling the truth!"
She takes a deep breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe, then looks at the Arch-magister expectantly.
Elva regards us for a moment with a strange expression on her face, as if deep in thought. Then, almost reluctantly, she asks, "Are you certain?"
Both of us nod.
"I was there, Magus," I say, trying hard to sound contrite. "Zara speaks truthfully. We fought and killed the demon, then returned as fast as we could to tell you." I reach to my belt and pull out the curved black claw, holding it up for her to see. "I took this from the demon's body as proof. We can take you there to see the rest of it for yourself."
Again, there is another pause. After a long moment she finally turns and rings a silver bell that is sitting on the edge of her desk. "That is grave news indeed," she replies grimly, standing up from her chair and fixing us both with a deep frown. "The two of you are lucky to be alive."
The door opens behind us and a pair of mages enter the room, holding their talismans in their fists.
"Unfortunately, your story is also a cleverly constructed lie."
Wait, what?
I look over at Zara, who is standing there with her mouth hanging open.
Elva continues. "You two are obviously in collusion with the Nightingales, spreading vile rumors to weaken the king's influence in the Emberwood. There are no demons on this side of the shield. The Arc is impenetrable, perfect in every way."
"But," I protest, my pulse starting to race, "what about the claw? This is proof!"
She snorts derisively. "A clever fabrication, nothing more. I've seen hundreds of trinkets like that for sale in the Tarsys market. It's probably an eagle's talon, sold to you by some peddler."
"It is not an eagle's talon!" I reply angrily, slamming the thing down on her desk. "Look at it! It's bigger than my hand!" I look over to Zara for support, but she is merely standing there, wide-eyed and stunned by the sudden turn of events.
Elva glances at the men standing behind us. "Seize them," she says coolly.
Before I can react, blue shimmering bands of light constrain my limbs, squeezing me tightly so that I cannot move my arms or even run away. A glance to the side reveals that Zara is experiencing the same thing.
Magic.
"Zara Dennel. Owyn Lund. You are guilty of high treason against the crown. By my authority as
Arch-magister of the Conclave of Tarsynium, I hereby place you under arrest and sentence you to exile in three days’ time. May the Light have mercy on your souls."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zara
My life is over.
I sit sullenly on the hard, wooden bench of the prison cell, my head resting against the cool stone of the wall. Something drips incessantly from somewhere in the cellar, but there is not enough light for me to know for sure where it is coming from. The cell is cold, dark, and small.
Just like my future, I think gloomily.
When Elva had ordered our arrest I was shocked. The fact that she would accuse us of working with the Nightingales without any evidence makes me question her motives. However, when she sentenced us to exile, a fate reserved only for the vilest of criminals, I was completely and utterly flabbergasted. How, in the name of the Light, could she turn from being my benefactor to being my executioner so quickly?
It just does not make any sense.
Owyn stands in the cell next to me, examining the bricks on the wall. I imagine that he is searching for a weak point, anything that could help us escape our fate.
"It's pointless," I say to him, my voice sounding unintentionally annoyed. "Even if we did manage to break out of here, the entire building is full of mages. We wouldn't be able to make it two steps without being burned to a crisp."
"It's worth a shot," he snaps back at me. "Anything is better than waiting here to die."
When the mages had bound us with radiant magic, Owyn had struggled and tried to fight back. I knew that it was worthless, so I did nothing. Radiant lashings are stronger than steel, and the chances of an ordinary human breaking free are almost nonexistent. Owyn squirmed and spat curses at our captors as we were led downstairs, but his bluster amounted to nothing. They deposited us in this dank prison so that we could wait for our judgment to come in the morning.
Elva had then ordered all our things, including the darkhound claw, to be confiscated.
"We're never going to get out," I mutter, closing my eyes and trying to accept my fate.
"Have you ever witnessed an exile?" Owyn asks, walking up to the thick iron bars separating our cells. "I have. It's horrible, a fate worse than death. I do not intend on letting them do that to us. We're bloody innocent."
I, of course, have never seen an exile, but I have heard the stories. The offender is always escorted to the border by a contingent of mages tasked with carrying out the sentence. When they arrive, a priest reads the final rites and prayers offered to those before they die. Then, in a display of power, the mages open a doorway in the Arc, and the criminal is forced out into the Great Waste beyond the shield. Nobody knows what happens to those who are exiled, but their fate is easy to imagine. There is only starvation, disease, and death on the other side of the Arc – probably at the hands of some twisted demon.
Owyn goes back to inspecting his cell and I continue sulking in silence.
All of that effort, all those years of studying in the Academy, has been for nothing. I am going to die a disgrace to my family in the worst way possible, and there is nothing that I can do to stop it.
"Hey!" One of the guards shouts when he notices Owyn picking at the lock with a small sliver of wood. "Get away from there, traitor!" He steps up to the prison door and shakes a fist clutching a talisman. I think his name is Podrick. "If I see you try anything like that again, I'll burn the fingers right off your hand!"
Owyn glowers at him but does not respond. Instead he backs away from the door and sits down on the bench.
"That's better," Podrick sneers. He glances over at me then leaves, walking over to the chamber just beyond our jail where he and the other mage are stationed.
For a time we sit in silence.
Why would Elva do this? I think to myself, completely lost in despair. Why would her first reaction be to condemn me as a traitor? I thought that she was beginning to like me... at least as much as one like her is capable of liking someone.
As Arch-magister, Elva is able to wield the full power of the Conclave to do pretty much anything she wants. Besides the king himself, the Conclave is the ultimate authority in Tarsynium. Until now, I believed their rule was right and just. The fact that one of their representatives could sentence me to exile without so much as a trial leads me to believe that there is something fundamentally flawed with the system.
Maybe that's why the Nightingales are in rebellion.
Owyn abruptly gets up and moves toward me, his feet scuffing softly on the cold stone floor and shaking me from my reverie. He crouches down, his head resting against the bars that are separating us. "There is one thing that bothers me more than anything else," he whispers, his tone no longer defiant. Surprisingly, he sounds sorrowful.
"What is that?" I reply, looking over at him in the low light.
"We risked our lives going out there to find that demon," he says with a frown. "We left town to investigate when no one else would." He looks up at me and our eyes meet. "We didn't have to do that, Zara."
I give him a sad little smile. "No, we didn't."
"Then why are we being punished for doing the right thing? Why does nobody believe us?"
"I suppose that, deep down, people no longer consider the R'Laar to be a threat."
"The R'Laar?"
"The name of the demon armada. The ones who caused the Doom."
"Oh."
I let out a sigh. "Perhaps they're too afraid to consider the thought that we may be right. Or maybe they honestly believe that we are in league with the Nightingales. I don't know."
Owyn hesitates before speaking again. "If you could go back, would you do anything different? Would you have stayed behind and ignored my crazy story about the demon?"
I pause, honestly considering his question. Then, after a moment, I give him another smile. "No. I probably would have done the same thing."
He smiles back. "Me too."
"Though, I would have stayed as far away from Elva Tyrande as humanly possible."
Despite our desperate situation, we smile at each other.
My mind wanders as I watch Owyn stealthily make his way back around his cell, renewing his search for any weak points that he can exploit. I'm not really sure what his plan is if he does manage to escape. His weapons, and my talisman, have all been confiscated. Not to mention the fact that we are surrounded by an army of paranoid mages and a town full of angry people.
What could have caused Elva to react the way that she did? It was almost as if she wanted to silence us, to prevent us from ever being able to bring up the demon again. In fact, there was a look on her face when I claimed to have killed the darkhound. Shock? Worry? Anger? Probably a mixture of all three.
One thing becomes certain to me as I sit pondering in the depressing little cell: the Arch-magister is hiding something, and it is related to the demon, the Nightingales, and the Conclave itself.
And here I am, drowning in the middle of it all.
Suddenly, Owyn stops moving and looks around, confused. "Zara," he hisses. "Do you hear that?"
I snap out of my thoughts and try to listen, but all I can hear is the sound of dripping on the stone. I shake my head.
He tenses. "Someone is coming."
Light almighty, does he have the ears of a bat or something? I still can't hear anything. However, after a moment of straining, I do catch the sound of muffled choking coming from somewhere down the hall.
"Podrick?" The other guard asks nervously in the other room. "Is that you?"
Silence, followed by a series of smacking sounds. Then, I catch the jarring sound of a body hitting the ground.
More silence follows.
Owyn and I look at each other in alarm, the same question obvious on both of our faces. What in the name of the Light is going on?
The answer comes in the form of a hooded figure materializing out of the darkness in front of our prison doors. The figure is tall and broad-shouldered, with a bow slung on his shoul
der and a long-bladed knife hanging from his belt. When he removes his hood, I recognize him immediately.
Elias Keen. Owyn's master.
"Master!" Owyn says excitedly. "You're here!"
Elias nods stoically and produces a ring of keys from his pocket. "I'm here to break you out. Follow me, and I'll get you both the Hells out of here."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Owyn
Elias unlocks my cell door, then moves on to help Zara, moving with the cool efficiency I have come to expect from my master.
"How did you know that we were here?" I ask in a low voice. I don't want to blow whatever cover he has created for us by speaking too loudly.
He opens Zara's cell and places the keys in a pocket within his cloak. "I returned from scouting the perimeter of the town when one of the militiamen standing watch mentioned that he saw a horse carrying two riders up the hill." He turns his stony gaze on me. "After finding your note the other day, I assumed that it could only be you."
Something about the way he says that gives me pause, but I don't have the time to think too deeply about it.
"Thank you for rescuing us," Zara says, stepping out of her cell. "But how are we going to get out of here? This whole building is full of mages."
"This way," he replies gruffly, leading us into the room where the guards had been sitting.
The two mages who had been watching over us are laying in crumpled heaps on the stone floor, though it is apparent from their shallow breathing that both of them are still alive. They have merely been knocked unconscious.
Stepping over the bodies, Elias leads us to an open window in a storage closet that is just large enough for a person to squeeze through. Because we are in the basement, it is high off the ground near the ceiling.
As he begins to help Zara climb up to the exit, I stop and gesture at the stairs. "What about our weapons?"
"There is no time," Elias replies, using his hands as a foot step for Zara to reach the window. "We can retrieve them later."
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