Embers at Galdrilene Page 2

  The hum sang in his mind. It wanted him to trust her. Shut up. Whatever you are, shut up and get out of my head. Something shared his head and his aunt used magic. Maybe he was already going crazy.

  He looked at Arnya, who stood tapping her foot, waiting for him to follow her. Suddenly, the heavy mist took on a new meaning. She’d said it wouldn’t last forever, but it shouldn’t be here at all. “You made the fog.”

  She nodded and looked past him out into the mist as if making sure they were alone. “It certainly didn’t happen by itself. Even if some strange twist of the weather managed to bring in fog this time of year, it would never be this thick.”

  Vaddoc felt the thick moisture against his face and he eyed her warily. Maybe the Members of Peace sent her to lure him in. He shook his head; that was ridiculous. “How did you make fog this time of year?”

  She laughed softly. “Well, it was not easy. I’m a fairly strong Weather mage, but creating this on the edge of a desert truly tested my abilities.”

  “Can you do other things besides make fog?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You mean, prove to you I can use magic, so you can feel assured I’m not double-crossing you?”

  He hated feeling suspicious of his aunt, but he couldn’t help it. Arnya nodded. “Very well.” The air thickened and tightened around him until his arms were pinned to his sides. He struggled against the invisible bonds. His magic waited, the power flowing like a river, but when he reached for it, hoping he could use it to break free, it slipped away.

  He stopped struggling and glared at her. Fear clawed at him. “Let me go.”

  “Are you sufficiently convinced?”

  He nodded and the bonds disappeared. He flexed his arms and touched the hilts of his swords. His heart hammered in his chest. It had been a long time since he felt true fear, but he felt it now in the face of her magic. It churned his stomach and made his mouth dry. He could stand against a charge of massive, horned Kojen, but his swords and training were useless against air.

  “Where…” He swallowed hard. “Where did you learn to do it? Did somebody teach you?”

  “Emallya will answer that. There is no time for me to stand around and answer every question that must be in that head of yours.”

  “Who is this Emallya?”

  She turned and started down the street again. “The person who will get you out of here. Come Vaddoc, it is time to stop standing around.”

  He followed her down the streets and through the door of her tiny house. Inside, a large hearth warmed the small, familiar room. Vaddoc barely noticed it. His eyes were on the woman, who stood near the small table, in front of the crackling fire. She was no Shaderian. Shaderian women were tall. The top of this woman’s head barely reached his shoulder. She appeared young at first, but upon closer inspection he saw crow’s feet gathered at the corners of her violet eyes and a few strands of gray in her long, chestnut hair.

  Emallya watched the man as he walked across the room and stopped in front of her. He looked every inch a young, Shaderian warrior. Like all of the people of Shadereen, he was quite tall. Straight black hair fell to his shoulders, held back at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. He stood silent. She felt confusion rolling off him and buried deep inside, a trickle of fear.

  Emallya felt only elation within herself. After the long centuries, a Foundling stood before her. So many times she had felt them emerge and tried to reach them before they were destroyed, only to fail. Now, four had emerged, all within a year of each other, and all scattered like leaves in the fall.

  One made her way toward Emallya from the coastal nation of Boromar, not knowing why she felt the compulsion to travel eastward. Another lay to the west in Trilene, resisting the compulsion to move. Yet another traveled toward her of his own volition from Calladar, the sister nation of Shadereen. If she could grab them all at once, she would do it. Since she couldn’t, she settled for picking them up one at a time and hoped they lived long enough for her to reach them.

  She had been on her way to collect the one in Trilene when she felt the Shaderian emerge and altered her course. She arrived in Marden two days after he returned back from his station on the border. Now she had him. The longer she remained silent, the more confused and uncertain he became. Despite the mental training the Border Guards went through in order to defend against the mental attacks of the Kojen, his blocks were no match for her. His emotions were easy for to her read.

  His face though, remained impassive. High cheek bones and a convex nose gave him the proud bearing of a hawk.

  She smiled. “So, you are my Foundling.”

  His amber eyes caught the light of the flames behind her as he shifted. “I am nothing to anyone. I can use magic and I will die for it.”

  Emallya sighed. “I can see into your mind. You hoped to shock me and scare me away with an open declaration of your crime.” She leaned forward. “It will not work. I already know what you did. You are exactly whom I seek.”

  The young man eyed her warily. Though unsure of her sanity, he desperately wanted to believe there was something left for him to do in this world. Emallya was glad of it.

  “I am Emallya Lorant. How are you called, Foundling?”

  “I am Vaddoc Eldark,” he replied. “What is this ‘Foundling’ you keep calling me?”

  Emallya smiled again. “Well met, Vaddoc. A Foundling is a special kind of magic user, whose powers have recently emerged.”

  “Does it have something to do with this hum, or whatever it is, I am feeling in my head?”

  Emallya smiled and nodded. “It does.”

  “What is the connection? Elaborate, please.”

  “All things in due time. This is not that time. Right now, I can get you out of Marden. I can take you to a place where magic is not a death sentence. Will you follow me?”

  Surprise flickered across his face and was gone. “I have a choice?”

  She nodded. “Of course, I cannot force you. Stay and face the charges or travel with me. I would give you more time to think it over if I could, but time is not on our side. Your choice must be made soon.”

  He hesitated. She sensed his inner struggle. He raised his amber eyes to hers. “My mother, my sister, what will become of them?”

  “They will have to deal with the stain of your fallen honor. However, most will see them as innocent victims, forced to face the shame you were unable to bear. It will look worse on you. They will have the sympathy of friends. But you already know this.” She watched him weigh the horror of her words.

  Arnya stepped closer to him. “I know this goes against all of your training, but you are being called to a different duty. You cannot allow antiquated beliefs to end your future before it begins.”

  Vaddoc looked at his aunt, indecision written in his expression. “What of my Watch? How do I abandon it?”

  “If you stay, you will be killed and your Watch will be at an end anyway.”

  Emallya remained silent. She was grateful for Arnya’s support and hoped it eased some of the turmoil within the young warrior. He paced back and forth in the small dwelling for several moments. His hands opened and closed on the hilts of the twin scimitars hanging on his hips.

  Finally, Vaddoc came to a stop in front of her. He glanced once at his aunt, who nodded in encouragement. He turned back to Emallya. “If it was up to me alone, I would gladly give my life for my honor and that of my family. But it is not just up to me. There is something in my head and it pulls at me so that I cannot help but turn away from my duties and beliefs.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying or doing. “I will come with you to this safe haven and we will see what the future holds.”

  Emallya smiled. “If you truly wished to die, if you truly rejected the call, you would be left in peace. You are being offered a gift. You can be encouraged, but you cannot be forced. A forced acceptance is no acceptance. This is your choice alone and you have made it. Now come, I have people at the city gates th
at will ensure we leave without being detained, and more will be waiting to help us across the river.”

  Vaddoc glanced at Arnya again. “What about my aunt, is she not in danger here?”

  Arnya answered for herself. “No more than before you emerged. Don’t worry, Vaddoc. Travel with peace in your heart.”

  “But you made the fog. Will the Members of Peace know it is a product of magic?”

  Arnya smiled. “Did you? The Members of Peace underestimate magic. They are convinced the little bumblings of newly emerged mages are the extent of what can be done. No, this fog will be blamed on some strange twist of the weather, no matter how unlikely.”

  “Come, Foundling,” Emallya said. “There are others like you, who need my help as well. We will try to gather them all before it is too late.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To a place that will appreciate your gifts. A place where you can learn to use them properly. So the next time you try to throw a shield around someone, it will work like it is supposed to and you will not have to feel the guilt and remorse you feel now.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Your young lady, Lenyi, her death was not your fault.”

  He nodded but said nothing. She knew that despite her words, he would continue to carry that weight for some time. He would have to work it out for himself and come to his own conclusion.

  Arnya said, “It is a good place, Vaddoc. You have an incredible future ahead of you.”

  “What about my things, my horse? How do I get them? If they have called in my unit, I will not be able to revisit my quarters without being detained.”

  “Your horse and what you had in your quarters is already waiting for you outside the city walls,” Emallya told him. “I wanted to be prepared in the event you chose to come with me.”

  “How did you get– “

  “Your aunt is not my only contact in Marden, or in Shadereen, for that matter. Let us be on our way.” She walked past him, knowing he would follow.

  She stepped into the cold fog and turned to Arnya one last time. “Be careful, they will be on the lookout for anything unusual.”

  “I have lived a quiet, law-abiding life here for the last twenty-five years. They will pay me no attention. The fog will make it impossible for anyone to even see he was here,” Arnya assured her.

  Emallya knew the truth of the woman’s words. The mist made seeing more than a few feet all but impossible. “This fog is truly impressive. Dhovara will be pleased to hear of it.”

  “Carry the peace in my heart to her.” Arnya said and shut the door.

  “It is time to leave this place, Foundling.” Emallya walked away, the damp air cold against her face. Occasionally, the light from a window filtered through the fog, but they met no one on the dark street.

  Vaddoc walked beside her in silence. A turmoil of warring emotions rolled off him. But even with the doubt she sensed in him, she also felt his determination to maintain his chosen course. She smiled slightly; he would make a good rider.

  As they approached the city wall, Emallya sent her senses flaring out, seeking the two guards that stood at the small gate. One she expected, but the other was a different man than she planned on. He didn’t feel familiar. It didn’t matter; he wouldn’t stop her. Power flowed through her veins as she wove a net and sent it toward the unfamiliar man hidden by the fog. She felt it settle over him and sensed his mind go blank.

  A few moments later, the wall loomed out of the night. Torches placed at intervals along the wall burned back some of the fog, but not enough so anyone could see them pass through the gate unless they were on top of them.

  As they approached, the guard she knew stepped forward. “Glad you made it, my lady.”

  “I am glad to find you still here, Talloc.”

  “I told you I would be,” Talloc said and glanced at the other guard with a worried look. The other man stood, staring straight ahead. “What is wrong with him?”

  Vaddoc narrowed his eyes at the man and shifted uneasily. Emallya studied the blank guard. The net gleamed around his mind, though she knew the other two men couldn’t see it. “He will be fine. I merely placed a net on his mind. It will dissipate in a few moments. He will remember nothing. Right now, he cannot see us or hear us. He sees only the empty fog.”

  Vaddoc scowled. “That leaves him defenseless.”

  She waved away the comment. “It will only last a short time and it was necessary.”

  Talloc nodded. “Right, well, if it is only going to last a few more moments, you better get on through.” He unlatched the gate and it swung open on silent hinges.

  Emallya smiled. “Thank you, Talloc.”

  “Always, my lady. May peace shadow your journey.”

  She slipped through the small door with Vaddoc on her heels. Outside the wall, the fog seemed even thicker. Vaddoc jerked as a man ghosted out of the night with the shadowed shapes of two horses in his wake.

  Emallya sighed with relief. “Owar, thank the Fates. After finding only Talloc at the gate, I feared something went wrong with the plan.”

  Owar shrugged. “Nothing we could not handle. Vaddoc really shook things up. They arrested his whole unit and to make sure no one helped him, they tried changing up the guards as well. They are afraid of another Hadar happening.”

  She laughed softly. “Yes, the Fates forbid there should be another Hadar to soil their reputation.”

  Vaddoc stared at Owar. Surprise overrode all of the other emotions she sensed in him. Owar only nodded at Vaddoc and handed him the reins to his horse. “You best be on your way. It took some careful work, but we managed to get Kaden and Mattoc stationed at the bridge tonight.”

  Emallya nodded, took her reins and swung into the saddle on the back of the massive gray horse. “Peace be with you, Owar.”

  “And follow you on your journey, my lady.”

  Vaddoc moved to his tall, leggy dun and swung into the saddle. Emallya rode toward the bridge at a trot. They needed to get away from the city and across the river. It didn’t take long to reach the bridge. The fog was thinner here. In some places no more than wisps barely covering the ground. Arnya’s magic could only reach so far. It didn’t matter; it had served its purpose.

  The two guards peered at them in the light cast by the torches set on either side of the bridge entrance. Kaden and Mattoc, as Owar had said. Emallya let out a sigh and sent a thank you to the Fates.

  As they passed by, Kaden reached out and stopped Vaddoc’s horse. “You have made the right choice, Vaddoc. Go with peace in your heart.”

  Vaddoc nodded and Kaden stepped back. Emallya nudged her horse forward and they started across the bridge, the horses’ hooves sounding hollow against the wide planks of wood. A clear, empty night opened up before them on the other side. Emallya glanced back. Marden was still completely covered in fog. She turned away from the shrouded city.

  Vaddoc took a deep breath. “Where do we go from here?”

  Emallya stared to the west. “We head to Trilene.”

  Kellinar leaned against one wall of the alley and pressed the dirty, blood-soaked cloth against his side. Maybe the smell of refuse fermenting in the afternoon heat would deter the Keepers of Trilene. He doubted they would want to examine the narrow confines of the alley too closely.

  Blood dripped from the cloth. He closed his eyes against a wave of dizziness. Someone had tried to kill him. Why? It didn’t really matter now. He remembered the roar in his head, the feel of the magic as it poured through his body and the feel of the air, every current ready to respond. Had he spoken to the air currents? No, that was impossible. In his mind, he saw the man lying with a broken neck in the market square.

  “I killed a man,” he whispered to the empty alley. “I flaming used magic to kill a man. Burn it all, I can use magic. Why did this happen to me?”

  The Keepers would never give up hunting him. An extension of the city guard, their main function was to capture anyone who displayed magical ability. There weren’t many
who showed the ability and most turned themselves in. The Keepers weren’t gentle with those who tried to escape their grasp.

  A hum crooned in his mind. Was it trying to comfort him? It felt like some other being or entity had set up living quarters in his head. He tried to ignore it. Hundreds of flies buzzed around him, landing on him with their sticky legs. He tried to ignore them, too.

  “Maybe I’m already insane.” He should turn himself in, but all he could think of was getting away. “Well if you’re going to continue with this dragon-blasted lunacy, Kellinar, then you might as well flaming get on with it. You’re not going to figure a way out of anything if you stand here talking to yourself like a dragon-struck fool until you bleed to death.”

  There was only one place to go…Serena’s. She was his best friend and could help. Or she might throw him to the Keepers. Magic might be where she drew the line on their friendship. Maybe that would be a good thing. The hum turned into a growl of protest.

  He groaned and pushed away from the wall. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he moved slowly. He kept to the alleys and only crossed the narrow roads when forced to. The winding alleys would take him to Serena’s small apartment in a rundown boarding house on the far side of the Mallay District.

  Pain made him stop several times. Hunched over, he leaned against slimy back walls and tried to take deep, slow breaths. At one point, he carefully peeled back the rag and looked at the tear in his side. His stomach convulsed; agony shot through his body. Bitter bile rose in the back of his throat. He brushed away the flies that landed on the wound and covered it back up. His head swam. He swallowed hard to keep from losing the contents of his stomach. With a shaky hand, he wiped away the cold sweat beading on his forehead and started off again.