From Darkness Won (37 page)

Achan shook his head. “You think that’s what I want?”

“What is it
you
want, then?”

“I want a cottage in the woods. Vrell Sparrow as my wife. No throne under my control. Perhaps some goats.”

Esek shifted on his horse. “Then
you
surrender?”

Achan’s dry laugh sounded loud in the surrounding silence. “Aye, that I did, but not to you. Arman is my master now. And He wants me to rule all Er’Rets. Not just Carm. So, I thank you for your… gift, was it? But I do not accept. We ride for Armonguard. Prince Oren holds the castle for us. If you stand in our way, you will become part of the road.”

Esek snorted. “Prince Oren may reside within Castle Armonguard, but he does not
hold
anything. We will take the fortress before you ever have a chance to see its splendor.”

“Permission to speak, Your Majesty,” Sir Gavin said.

“Granted,” Achan and Esek said together.

Esek chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

Sir Gavin’s horse walked forward a few steps. “Esek Nathak, do not be a fool. I counseled you on the subject of dark magic. I sense you’ve already aligned yourself with its power. There is still time to rebuke it. I can help you.”

“Why would I do that?” Esek said. “My master gave me a new arm, Sir Gavin. He is one hundred times more powerful than this One God you serve. If you and your princeling insist on war, then you will have it, and you will lose. For my master communes with all the gods of Er’Rets.”

“There is no other God but Arman,” Sir Gavin said. “Your gods are a trick of Gâzar. Serving them will bring you nothing but death.”

“This meeting has been a waste of time.” Esek straightened in his saddle. “Reconsider my offer before you reach Mahanaim, for you and your followers will not pass through the city alive.” Esek reined his horse around, and the horse took off at a gallop.

Three of Esek’s men followed, leaving only Sir Kenton, Esek’s Shield, behind. “You would be wise to reconsider, Gavin,” Sir Kenton said. “Never have I seen such power.”

“You speak of the Hadad,” Sir Gavin said.

“Aye. The Hadad will rule this nation.”

Sir Gavin answered, his voice soft but forceful. “For years I wondered if your master was truly Lord Nathak, but now I see the truth. Killing King Axel and Queen Dara was the Hadad’s plan. You both serve the same master.”

“As will you, if you live through the next few days.”

“Do not be a fool, Kenton,” Sir Eagan said. “We taught you better than this.”

Sir Kenton tossed the white flag to the ground and turned his horse. “No one taught me better than the Hadad. We shall see who is stronger.” He rode away.

Achan sat on Dove, watching the horses merge with the Darkness.

“It’s war then.” Sir Gavin sighed. “Figured as much.”

A chill coursed over Achan’s arms. “War.”

“Sparrow?” Achan entered his room and pulled off his helm. Sir Caleb, Shung, and Sir Eagan followed him inside.

Sir Caleb took Achan’s helm from his hands. “Your Highness, we must go to the meeting tent. Gavin is gathering the generals to share Esek’s demands.”

“I must do something first.” Achan turned to the men. “Sparrow is here. In this tent.”

Sir Eagan’s gaze roamed the tent. “Why did you not say something?”

“Sir Caleb said we had to leave for the—”

“Esek could have waited,” Sir Eagan said.

“Really, Eagan?” Sir Caleb said. “Vrell and her problems are more important than all of Er’Rets?”

“We trained to the same code, Caleb. Always rescue the lady first.” Sir Eagan fumbled at the points of Achan’s breastplate and quickly pulled it free.

“Yes, but Vrell is always in some sort of mischief.” Sir Caleb took the breastplate and set it on the armoire. “Why is she our responsibility?”

“Because I love her,” Achan said.

“You love her.” Sir Caleb threw up his hands. “Well that’s just fine. What will Duchess Amal say to that?”

Sir Eagan shoved Achan’s backplate into Sir Caleb’s arms. “Sit, sit, Your Highness. You must bring her back right away.”

Achan sat onto the end of his bed.

Shung sat beside him. “Shung will be watching.”

Achan nodded. Feet on the floor, he fell onto his back and entered the Veil.
Sparrow?
He did not see her. He sought her mind and found it blocked.

No! Why had she left?
Arman, why?

He sent a knock the proper way, but when she did not respond, he barged ahead with his message, knowing now that she could hear him.
Sparrow, you’ve raised the shields around your mind again. I can’t help you this way. Let me in.

He opened his eyes and stared at the brown ceiling of the tent.
Why did you leave? You said you would wait.

“Found her?” Shung asked.

“She’s gone.” Achan held his hands in front of his face. They were trembling. He sat up and looked from Sir Eagan, who sat on the end of his bed, to Sir Caleb, who stood by the armoire. “What can I do? Is there nothing I can do?”

“Can you guess where she went?” Sir Eagan asked.

“No. She doesn’t know me. I frighten her. She thinks I’m Esek or something.”

“Esek?” Sir Caleb asked. “Why?”

“You think I know? The whole thing is maddening!”

Sir Eagan’s calm voice urged him along. “Keep messaging her. Do not give up.”

“What’s the point? Even if I can reach her, how can I convince her of the truth? She doesn’t remember me.”

Sir Eagan gripped Achan’s shoulder. Warmth and calm flooded through the connection. “When someone has forgotten, it helps to bring them to a familiar place. Familiar scents and sounds can also kindle memories.”

“I thought
I
would be familiar.”

“Pray harder. Ask Arman to help you,” Sir Eagan said.

Of course. Why did Achan always forget to pray first? He slid off the bed to his knees, which were still draped in layers of chain and leather armor. He put his hands on the straw mat and lowered himself to his stomach.
Arman? Please, show me where Sparrow is. Take me to her. Let her remember. Give me the words to convince her to return. Show me where—

A breeze stroked Achan’s back. Talons scratched his shoulder blades. His body lifted off the floor. His mind, actually, for his body lay still as a dead man on the straw mat. Shung sat on Achan’s bed. Sir Eagan and Sir Caleb stood together in the doorway. None seemed to see Achan rising through the tent, legs flailing.

He twisted around and saw a great speckled brown bird holding him, gripping the back of his surcoat with its claws. A brown wing flapped across his view. When it lifted for another stroke, the bird had carried him through the roof and into the black sky.

Achan wanted to scream. He should at least message Shung and inform his Shield that a bird of prey had taken his soul. But a great calm washed away every concern.

This bird was Arman’s answer to his prayer.

It carried him from the torchlights of camp. Each flap of its massive wings brought a warm gust of air on Achan’s neck and ears. In the darkness, Achan had no way of tracking which direction the bird flew. But Darkness quickly faded to a charcoal fog, then a grey haze, then a white cloud. Bits of blue peeked between fluffy white clouds. Achan could hear nothing but the occasional flap of wings and his own breath.

The bird dove into a leafy forest, soaring between trees. There was something grand about this place. The trees appeared greener. Or bigger. Maybe both. And the smell… Achan inhaled long and deep. Such sweetness had never entered his nostrils.

In the distance, a golden light shone between flaky bronze tree trunks, as if he were approaching a bonfire through a forest at night. The bird swooped between two massive redpines and entered a vast meadow. Thick grass stretched in every direction, hedged by the forest on all sides. Flowers in every color Arman had made filled the air with nectar.

Something white gleamed in the distance. As they neared, it took shape. A fence. As tall as any sentry wall. Made of white stone… or was that pearl? Whatever the substance, it was carved in scallops and scrolls and towered above the flowers clustered at its base.

Achan’s heart swelled. A full, giddy joy consumed his senses. Oh, to go inside such a place. If only the bird would carry him over the fence.

But the bird slowed and descended. Achan could see the blades of grass through his transparent boots. His gaze settled
o
n a woman who was standing before the gate, her back to him. Her body was dwarfed in size by the splendor of the looming structure. She stared through the white bars as if hoping to go inside.

Sparrow.

The bird dropped Achan in the soft grass ten paces from the woman, then settled atop the pearly gate without a sound.

Achan stumbled forward.

Sparrow turned, and her wide eyes narrowed. “You!” She perched her hands on her hips. “Stop following me!”

Achan started to run, then remembered he wasn’t in his body, so he materialized at her side instead.

She screamed. “Do not do that.”

Over a head shorter than him, dressed in a scraggly brown peasant dress, one frizzy braid still intact, the other side, tangled and loose… she looked lovelier than ever.

But the expression on her face was more suited to Jaira Hamartano. Hard eyes, as if everything behind them mistrusted him. Lips drawn into a thin line. Cheeks flushed with accusation.

Achan gripped Sparrow’s arms, and though touching her did not feel the same as flesh on flesh, energy raced through him. “Step back from the gate, Sparrow. It’s dangerous.”

Her eyes widened at his touch, but, amazingly, she did not pull away. “How do you…? I have touched nothing for days. Yet this gate is solid. I am tired, Master Cham. This is not natural, is it, to be out of my body? Am I dead?”

“No. If it were your time, the gates would open.”

Her eyes flickered to meet his, so much greener in this place. “Really?”

He didn’t know. But it had sounded wise, so he nodded.

She scowled and tugged on Lady Averella’s sleeve that was still tied to his arm. “Where did you get this token?”

Heat filled his face. “Sparrow, I can explain.”

“
Who
gave it to you?”

He sighed. “Duchess Amal presented it to me in a missive offering her eldest daughter, Lady Averella, to be my bride. Sir Caleb and the others thought it was the best match.”

Sparrow shook her head. “That is impossible.”

“I’ll give it back. Sparrow, it’s
you
I want.”

She coughed out a dry laugh. “Nothing makes sense here. It must be a dream.” She turned back to the gate, gripped the bars, and shook them. “Arman! Open the gate. I beg You. I want to come home. Or wake up.” Sparrow stepped up onto the lowest hinge and heaved her body up. Grinning, she raised her foot to the next hinge.

Achan gazed up at her profile, at her lips set in a determined twist. “This is not your home, Sparrow. Not yet, anyway.”