Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) (24 page)

I’m just about to turn in that direction when a flash of orange hair catches my eye. She’s rushing in my direction with a guard escort beside her.

“Saesa!” I dash toward her. When I get a little closer I see it’s not a guard at all. It’s Raefe, all dressed up in a royal navy uniform. His hand is on the handle of his rapier. He looks stern. Serious. Proud.

I fall into step beside them, on Saesa’s side. Her eyes are rimmed with red, but determined. She’s dressed for battle. Her gloved hand rests on the pommel of Feat, her sword.

I stay hidden as I fall into place beside her.

“How can you be sure they’ll know anything about it?” Raefe asks her in a hushed tone.

“I just have a feeling,” she says. “Besides, I needed an excuse to see if she’s back yet.”

“You know the rumors,” Raefe huffs. “She’s got it in with those Kythshire folk. Half of the guild does. She fled, Saesa. She probably had something to do with it. You should play it safe. Find a new Knight. Keep your reputation clean.”

Saesa grabs his arm. Skids to a stop. If looks could kill, Raefe would be obliterated. He knows it, too. He shies away from her.

“Don’t you ever,” she looms toward her older brother. She’s much shorter than he is. It’d almost be funny if she wasn’t so livid. “Ever—!”

“Everything all right there?” an approaching pair of guards calls from a nearby cross-street.

“Fine,” Raefe takes Saesa by the elbow. “Just escorting this one to her duties.”

“Carry on,” one of them says, and they wave him along.

We keep going. The streets are empty except for the city guard. I never knew Cerion had such a large force of them. Everywhere we turn there’s groups of them, watching. It makes me shiver even in the heat. It feels more like Zhaghen to me. Oppressive. Frightening. Cerion’s changing.

I keep close to Raefe and Saesa. When we finally reach the hall of His Majesty’s Elite, no one answers any of the doors they knock on until they reach the kitchens.

“The sight of you both, lurking in the night!” Mouli gasps and waves them inside. “Look at you, Saesa! Raw with tears. Come have a cup. You too, Raefe.”

I follow them in, still hidden. Pass through the wards undetected. Mouli closes the door firmly behind us.

“Is she back?” Saesa asks as soon as she steps inside. Mouli glances through the kitchen toward the meeting hall.

“You know, Miss Saesa, even if she was, I wouldn’t say unless I was cleared to,” Mouli replies. “Hard times, these.”

“I have to see her or Rian,” Saesa says. “I found something important.”

“Well, if you’re determined, you can wait in the hall. I’ll bring you a tray. You, on the other hand,” she says to Raefe, “can’t go farther than the kitchen, I’m sorry to say.”

“Of course. I understand,” Raefe says with a nod.

“Good lad,” says Mouli. “I’ll fix you something.”

“What was that about?” I whisper to Saesa later as she takes a chair in front of the huge fireplace. She jumps and yelps and whips around looking for me.

“Tib?” she gasps.

As soon as I step out of hiding, she throws her arms around me. Starts crying again. Doesn’t stop for a while. I stand there awkwardly patting her shoulder. It doesn’t help much. Just makes her squeeze me tighter and sob harder.

“I thought,” she whispers once she starts to calm down. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And it was all my fault. Can you forgive me?”

I scowl as she leans back to look at me. She searches my face. I think she thinks I’m angry, but I’m not. I’m confused. There’s nothing to forgive her for. Her eyes rest on my lips. She looks away fast.

“Forgive you for what?” I ask.

“If you hadn’t gone looking for Raefe, they never would have gotten you,” she sniffles and wipes her eyes, but she keeps one hand on me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear again if she lets go.

“What? That’s stupid, Saesa. It wasn’t your fault. That guy was after me. He would have gotten me either way. He…” I let myself trail off as I remember that moment in the alley. How Celli was crying. How he crept up behind me. “It was a trap,” I whisper. “She was part of it.”

“Who?” Saesa asks.

“Celli. She’s with them now. If you see her, stay away, okay?” I think again about my contraption. The hut. The pit. I know he’s got to be there waiting for me. I’ll get my knives. I’ll put a stop to him. Margy’s warning echoes in my mind. “I have to go.” I start to leave, but Saesa tightens her grip on me.

“Wait, Tib. Not yet. I found something,” she says.

She reaches into her vest and pulls out a small, rounded wand. Right away I feel the magic in it. It’s about the length of my hand. She offers it to me and I take it cautiously.

“Loren had it. That Mage from Stepstone, remember? When the decree against magic came out, the admiral thought to turn him in. Nessa convinced him to let him stay under Lilen’s sleep spell. He’s only a boy, after all, she said. But the admiral had us search him, just to be safe. That’s when I found this. Look what’s inscribed on it.”

I turn it over and over in my hands, but there’s nothing on it at all. It’s a smooth wand, nicely polished, completely blank.

“See there?” Saesa whispers. “H. M. E. R. E. His Majesty’s Elite. Rian Eldinae. What else could it mean?”

I turn it again and again, trying to see what she sees. I can’t, though. It just looks blank to me. It must be a spell.

“I can’t see it,” I say. “It feels good, though.” I weigh it in my hands. Sense the magic in it. “It’s bright. Light magic. It feels like…I don’t know how to describe it. Like it’s meant to be here. Like it belongs.”

I hear Mouli before I see her, so I hand the wand back to Saesa and slip into hiding again as she comes in with a tray.

“Well, you were right,” Mouli says with a hint of annoyance. “Don’t know how you managed to find out before I did, but apparently Azi returned a moment ago. She’s visiting with Master Cort and Lady Mya right now, and they’re not to be disturbed. I’ll tell her you’re waiting once they’re through.”

“Thank you, Mouli,” Saesa says brightly. My stomach growls at the sight of hot iced rolls and chilled tea.

“You have them,” Saesa whispers to me as Mouli rushes out again. She pushes the tray over. “I bet you’re starved. There’s nothing else to do but wait, now, anyway.”

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Letter

Azi

 

“My name,” I pause and smooth the note over my knees with trembling hands, “is Kaso Viro. I am a Muse of the Six and a Master Mage of the Stepstone Isles.” I stop again and scan the rest of the note, and the sofa creaks loudly as Mya and Cort shift to lean in closer. Certain words catch my eye: Kythshire. Dawn. Wellsprings. Fae. My heart races.

I glance at Mya first and then Cort. These are things I’ve kept secret for quite a long time. Mya has never had more than a vague understanding of the relationship Rian and I have with Kythshire. She has never pressed us for information. Having a son who was schooled at the Academy, she’s used to secrets. Secrets designed to protect the Wellsprings that she doesn’t even know exist.

“Go on,” Cort prods with obvious interest. “What does it say?”

“Perhaps she shouldn’t, Cort,” Mya says with quiet understanding. “Perhaps it’s not meant for us.”

I think of what Flitt told me before we went to see the Fairy Queen: “They’re all a part of this. You’re going to need them. All of them.” I remember Margy reading the story of Brindelier. If it wasn’t meant for them, I wouldn’t be able to share it. I take a chance, take a deep breath, and go on reading.

“If this note has reached you, then the pieces have fallen into place. The Dusk is growing stronger. It threatens that which you hold dear: Your country, your peace, your allies in the fairies of Kythshire. Even the Wellsprings are endangered by this dark force. Already, your city has been a victim of the Dusk. You must give His Majesty a warning. You must tell him to protect the sons of the prince or risk the fall of Cerion. You must convince him to strengthen his alliance with Kythshire. You must make him aware of his daughter’s talents. I tell you this, Azaeli Hammerfel, because your name is written in the stars. You and you alone can show His Majesty the truth of all things. Once you have, seek me. Oh, and a small favor. Do kindly return my apprentice to his master. He’s a good lad, and my tower has not been swept in weeks. Yours in Light, K.V.”

Mya laughs softly at the last, and Cort shakes his head.

“Mages,” he says. “All that, and he’s worried about his tower being swept.”

“Right,” Mya says pensively. “Right.”

None of us says anything else. We simply sit, taking it all in. I’m the first to break the long stretch of silence.

“Protect the sons of the prince,” I whisper. “Sons?” Mya and I exchange a glance.

“It doesn’t surprise me,” she offers quietly, “considering Eron.”

“And what about that other part?” Cort asks. “About his daughter’s talents?”

His question brings me back to Margy’s room, surrounded by the live forest created with her own magic. I keep my eyes fixed on the note, afraid that my memories might leak into one of them if I dared look up. Who is this Kaso Viro, I wonder? How can he know all of this? Why should I trust him? Should I risk Margy’s trust by revealing what she told me in confidence? Is it safe?

“I know what he’s referring to,” I say cautiously, “but I’m not sure it’s the place or time to tell you.”

Between the Queen’s quest, Da’s earlier outburst, the summons from the King, and now this letter, I have no idea what to do. It’s all chaos and emotion in my head, keeping me from being able to think logically. I wish Rian was here. He’d be able to sort through it. He’d know where we should start.

“Maybe I should answer the summons first,” I suggest. “Then, when I return, we can hold a meeting and go from there.”

The thought of going to the palace to face the king makes my stomach flip. Da was right, though. My duty is to Cerion above all, and I’m already two days past the date of his royal command. I slowly fold the note and tuck it away as I stand up.

“No, Azi,” Mya says to my relief. “I think we should meet first. All of us. In case…” she trails off and glances at Cort, and he nods mournfully.

“In case what?” I frown.

“We don’t know why you’ve been summoned,” Mya says. “You heard your father. He’s not the only one with prejudices. There are whisperings about you. About your alliances. The king is at his wit’s end. He’s looking everywhere for someone to blame for the High Court attack. And the fact that you disappeared right in the middle of it, well, it’s…”

“Suspicious,” Cort rolls his eyes.

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. I feel as if my world is spinning out of control. I’d almost prefer the idle, unsure quiet of two days ago—no, eight days, apparently--to this chaos.

I stand shaking until Mya takes my hand and guides me out of Cort’s house and across the passageway into the meeting hall. She tells Cort to go get Bryse and Elliot. I’m so dazed I don’t even notice Saesa is in the meeting hall until she jumps up from her seat and hugs me.

“I knew it!” she cries. “My Lady Knight, I knew what they were saying wasn’t true. I knew you would come back.”

She remembers herself quickly and tries to step back, but her closeness and her trust in me is a comfort. I hug her tighter.

“Thank you,” I push to her. Two weeks ago, I never would have done it. Saesa has no idea of the extent of my abilities. She’s been a devoted squire, and yet I never trusted fully her with the knowledge of who I really am.

When I finally let her go, Saesa looks at me with the same awe and respect as always. I know she can see the Mark, but she doesn’t react to it. It doesn’t frighten her. I’m still Azi. Her Knight.

Before I can wrap my head around her unconditional acceptance, Rian appears beside her with Mum’s arm looped through his. It takes Mum a moment to get her bearings and then she throws herself at me and lifts me off of the ground with her embrace.

“Oh, my sweeting,” she whispers into my hair. Our armor scrapes together as she squeezes me, and I find myself crying yet again as her peace soothes me.

“Rian told me,” she murmurs only loud enough for me to hear. Her thumb brushes the Mark on my cheek. At first I’m afraid to look at her and see the same fear in her eyes that the others held, but when I finally force myself to, I’m so relieved. There is no fear or hesitation in her eyes. It’s like she expected it. Like it was something she’s been waiting for. They shine bright and blue with love for me, and with pride that seems to burst forth and wash over me along with her peace. The way she looks at me seems to give me permission to accept myself for who I really am.

The Mentalist. The Paladin. Between Saesa and Mum’s reactions and Kaso Viro’s letter, my perspective is beginning to change. Maybe it’s time for me to be open about it. To stop hiding and being afraid of what I can do. I don’t fit here like I used to because I’m not who I was before. Da is right. I’ve changed. I’m different now, but my abilities are a part of me They’re not something I should ashamed of or hide away. I reach up and take off my helm completely. It’s time to stop being afraid.

“I’ll talk to Da,” she says, “don’t worry.” I don’t want her to leave, but I’m eager to see Da again after she’s had a chance to calm him, so I don’t protest when Rian whisks her away to wake him.

As they leave, a shift in the Half-Realm draws my attention. A figure nearby. A boy.

“Tib?” I whisper out of range of Mya, who has gone to the meeting table to sort through the piles of parchment there.

Tib nods in greeting and I glance from him to Saesa, who looks a little guilty. Da’s forge is one thing, but Tib isn’t an official member of the Elite or a squire. He’s not permitted in the meeting hall. He’s usually respectful of our rules and boundaries, so his disregard disturbs me a little. I slide my eyes toward Mya and nod to him.

Cort returns with Bryse and Elliot just as Tib reveals himself. Bryse twitches a hand to his sword but relaxes as soon as he recognizes the boy. Mya scowls.

“Tib,” she says. “Where did you come from?”

“Sorry, Mya,” Tib offers an apologetic shrug as the two of them rush off. “I followed Saesa in. I just got back from…someplace, and I wanted her to know I was safe.”

Saesa reaches for Tib’s hand, but he doesn’t notice. Instead he leans against the back of a chair and shoves his hands in his pockets as Mya assesses him carefully.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave,” she says as she taps a stack of parchments on the table to straighten them. “The guild has some things to discuss which are not meant for a wider audience.”

Saesa scoffs and looks from Tib to Mya. She claps a hand over her mouth and looks at me with wide, apologetic eyes. Mya raises a brow.

“Do you have something to say, Saesa?” she asks with a stern tone which is very firmly meant to remind the squire of her place.

“I’m so sorry,” Saesa replies, “it’s just…I think you’ll be interested in what Tib has to offer. He’s been places recently. He’s seen things that you should know about.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Saesa,” Tib broods and walks toward the door. “She’s right. I have my own things to do, anyway.”

“Wait,” Mya holds up a hand to stop him as he starts to leave. “Where have you been, Tib?” she asks.

“A keep,” he replies with a shrug. “Full of Sorcerers. They kidnapped me. Same ones who attacked the High Court.” He looks at me like he wants to say more, but is holding back. “They’re planning things. They’re not through with the prince.”

“You can stay,” Mya says as Mum and Da return. “We’ll need you to tell us everything you remember.” Da looks a little sleepy-eyed, but much calmer than he had been. He looks at me, shakes his head, and offers me a one-armed hug.

“We’ll get through it,” he says. His tone is gruff, but his words are a small comfort. As he goes to take a seat at the table with the others, I look to the door expecting to see Rian. Mum notices.

“Rian’s going to see if he can convince Gaethon to come,” she explains.

“Good luck with that,” Bryse grumbles. “Haven’t seen hide or hair of him for the better part of a week.”

“He’s doing what he must, Bryse,” Mya says. “These are trying times. His priorities are the Academy, and Mage relations with the Palace. We accept that. What about Donal?” she looks to Mum.

“He offered to bring the horses back,” Mum replies. “We were just past the Forest Wall and he wanted to take a moment with the White Line.”

“Inquiring about Dacva, I imagine,” Mya shakes her head.

“What about Dacva?” I ask with a shiver.

“He disappeared after the attack,” Elliot explains as he curls up in his armchair by the fire and yawns. “Just like you did.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?” I ask.

“Donal sent him out to Redstone to offer healing,” Mya explains. “He never returned. Donal’s been inquiring about him since then. Elliot even took some time to search.”

“Suspicious if you ask me,” Bryse grunts and pours himself a tankard of wine. “Never did fit in, that one.” He looks at me seeking support for his sentiment. Bryse knows Dacva and I have a history, and he’s always been abrasive toward Dacva because of it. Dacva used to be my rival, and spent the better part of our growing years tormenting me. When his guild, Redemption, betrayed the King, he became a healer under Donal and made an effort to join us. Mya is the one to make membership decisions, and she has continued to hold Dacva at arm’s length. He isn’t even permitted in the guild hall like Saesa is, even though her seniority is lower than his.

“So he just disappeared?” Tib asks with a scowl. “From Redstone?”

"At the risk of sounding callous,” Mya sighs, “his whereabouts is the least of our worries right now. The Conclave has assured us they’re doing their best to search for him. In the meantime, we have bigger fish in the net.”

When everyone nods their agreement with varying degrees of reluctance, Mya continues.

“We’ll have to make do with those of you who are here, for now.” Her gaze lingers across the room at her lute before it comes to rest on the stack of papers spread across the table. She gestures to the benches, and everyone takes a seat.

“As those of us who have been in Cerion know well,” she begins thoughtfully, “His Majesty is grieving. He is fighting with his conscience over the loss of his son. Justice was served by the courts, indeed, and the king is pleased, but the father is stricken with grief,” she sighs, “and fear.” She glances toward the door to make sure no one is eavesdropping.

“In the wake of the attacks and the horrific nature of them, he is enraged. He seeks to blame and to avenge. He looks everywhere he can for some inkling of explanation, for some relief for what’s happened. These are dangerous emotions for a king. It’s trying enough to rule a kingdom fairly in times of peace. The greater challenge is presented when times are difficult. When emotions are raw.”

The room is silent save for the crackling of the fire as Mya goes on. Even Bryse and Da, who are usually rather vocal, sip from their tankards quietly as they listen.

“We must remember who we are in such times. Each of us joined this group as a trusted friend of the man, Tirnon. His Majesty’s Elite is not just an honorable title bestowed upon us. It is the meat of our existence. The essence of who we are. We stand beside our king in easy times and in difficult times. We are not soldiers who unflinchingly follow his orders. His Majesty has his generals and his fleets and armies. He has his city guard. We are not those. We are a trusted fellowship with the responsibility to Tirnon, the man. He is our king first, and very closely behind that, he is our friend. We cannot forget Tirnon the man in these difficult times. It is to him that we owe our fealty.”

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