The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (36 page)

* * *

Jharmin Kyte could find no solace. Wolfhold had become a prison, and being trapped here with his wife was like being trapped in a cage with a very beautiful and alluring tiger, who might purr at you while ripping your throat out. He loved Lissa but not because she made it easy for him to do so. Perhaps he loved Lissa in spite of her efforts to make him hate her, though sometimes she succeeded. There were quiet times, when she was warm and she would smile and laugh. But then there were the days when she was as dark as a storm cloud and even less friendly.

The events of her childhood had made her suspicious, and she carried the weight of her anger like a burden of pride. She had suffered more than he, and she made certain he knew it.

Today he hoped for a reprieve. Today they would have to make difficult decisions.

Lissa entered the room without a word, and Jharmin waited to see what energy she brought with her. He could sense her mood from across the room most days, but on this day, she remained shielded from him, her emotions kept close. He had no doubt she was feeling something very strongly, and he had no less doubt that she didn't want him to know what it was she was feeling. She was a difficult woman, his wife.

Neither spoke for some time, as if the first one to speak would be responsible for what was to come. "I leave for Ravenhold in an hour," Lissa finally said.

Jharmin was silent for some time. He supposed he'd known all along that she would go. But still it made him angry. "You know I can't leave Wolfhold. And you know you're safer here than at Ravenhold. You know these things."

"And I know my people need me there."

"They don't need you to be a martyr," Jharmin said.

Lissa looked up with fire in her eyes, and Jharmin knew he'd lost her. Now there was no chance she would stay. She turned to leave without another word.

"Wait," Jharmin said. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to lose you."

"If you keep your mouth shut and let me go defend my hold, then you won't," Lissa said, her voice low and angry.

She rode out on horseback with her guard an hour later, and Jharmin watched her go. The people would know she was gone soon enough. They would know that war was coming. So many were just getting their lives back in order after the last war, and now it would haunt them again. Jharmin prayed he was wrong, but his intellect suggested otherwise.

Black ships and blacker dragons were said to be on their way, and Thorakis's endless supply of gold had finally run out. He'd seen the map, and Jharmin knew that the aqueducts were machines of war. They would be used to keep the people dependent on Thorakis, and they had clear roads on either side to allow for fast deployment of soldiers. They also made for highly defensible walls that divided communities and prevented them from joining in an uprising. If the people in one area did rise up, they could be easily put down with troops from adjacent areas. Then, once the troops were deployed to an area along the aqueducts, they would have access to a nearly unlimited supply of fish from the Riverhold fishery.

Jharmin had always suspected that Thorakis could individually control the supply of water to each section of the aqueducts and that he might use this to exert control over the people. When all these things were added up, especially considering the fact that two of the aqueducts reached toward Ravenhold and Wolfhold, respectively, one couldn't help but come to the conclusion that they were about to be attacked.

The counterfeit coins troubled Jharmin greatly since they threatened the entire monetary system. Without that stability, the Greatland's fragile and still-recovering economy would likely collapse. The best he could do was to keep himself safe, so he could provide some level of stability when all this was over. It was a thought that made him sick, but it was among the things his grandfather had taught him. The need of the people outweighed the need of his own ego or preference. It might ease his conscience to go out and fight and die what some would call an honorable death. But death, as his grandfather had always said, was death, honorable or not. And dead leaders save no lives.

Drummond, the captain of Jharmin's guard, approached. Rarely was he an effusive man, but the fact that he looked gruffer than usual gave Jharmin pause.

"I can have them all inside the keep within two days of when the order is given, sir," Drummond said without preamble. The man had never been one for small talk.

Jharmin didn't like that estimate. He needed his people inside his walls within a single day. Two days was too long, and Drummond knew it.

"If we try to prepare them, the word will spread that we're at war, and I know that's not what you want. Given the state of the villages and fields as I see them, there is no way to get them all here in any shorter amount of time."

"If Thorakis massed troops along the aqueduct, he could have an army here in less than two days."

"I know and I'm sorry, sir. I can find no solution, and I won't lie to you."

"I know, Drummond," Jharmin said. "You're a good man. I'm not displeased with you; it's the situation. I need to figure out how to protect the people and the keep without causing riots or drawing the attention of Thorakis."

"Maybe drawing Thorakis's attention is exactly what we want," Drummond said. "You know as well as I that war is coming. Anyone with any sense can see that. It may be that he hasn't attacked us yet because he isn't fully ready. Perhaps we can draw him out and force him to make his move before he can gather his full strength. And though it may sound crazy, perhaps we should strike first."

The idea seemed ludicrous at first, but Jharmin had to admit that it had some merit, though there were holes in the plan big enough to sail a ship through.

"The Cathurans certainly have seen the signs," Drummond said. "Ohmahold and Drascha Stone are sealed up tight. No one's getting in or out of those places any time soon. The rest of the world is going to figure it out soon enough. What do we gain by keeping it from the people?"

"Order," Jharmin said. "If we lose order, we lose control. It'll be better if we take the time to prepare as much as we can and hope Thorakis doesn't attack in the meantime."

Drummond clearly didn't agree, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I need some time to think and clear my head, Drummond. Find out what you can about the inventory I asked for and rationing projections. I need to know how many people we'll have in the hold and how long we'll be able to feed them. I'll come find you when I'm ready."

"Yes, sir."

Knowing Drummond would probably handle the matters better than he ever could, Jharmin walked deeper into Wolfhold, beyond his personal chambers, and into a place that only a few knew existed. When Lissa had first come here, this had been one of the few things that kept her from leaving. The atrium was the very heart of Wolfhold. A crystalline ceiling allowed natural light to flood the parklike setting. Deep green grasses, lush and cool, awaited Jharmin's now bare feet. Beyond a sweeping hill and within a circle of pillars waited a patch of marble that had been weathered by the ages. Above these pillars stood open sky. Here, he could commune with the rest of the world and not feel as if he were sealed away in a granite tomb.

When he was young, he'd come to this place to play and to see the open sky. But for much of his adult life, he had avoided the atrium, preferring instead to exercise his freedom and leave the keep altogether. It was Lissa who had reminded him about the magic of the place. Every day she had spent in the hold, she had gone to the atrium, sometimes for many hours. Jharmin knew she'd even sneaked away from their bed in the middle of the night to go there.

Now he went there because it made him feel closer to his wife. Despite everything that could have come between them over the years, Jharmin truly cared for Lissa. He'd never admit he still had feelings for her cousin, Catrin. Those feelings did nothing to reduce what he felt for Lissa, and not for the first time, he wished there were some way he could make what he felt for Catrin go away. Those feelings did not serve him, and he did his best to suppress them. Settling himself down at the center of the worn marble, Jharmin did his best to meditate. It wasn't something he'd ever really believed in, but Catrin had once told him about the benefits of meditation, and Lissa had later told him similar things. He, of course, never mentioned that the two had actually agreed on something.

Sitting with his legs crossed, he wondered how they ever managed to find peace and serenity; his mind was a cloud of anxiety and emotions that moved in a circular fashion and never left him without something to worry over. Slowly, though, he thought about each thing, and he began to chip away at that seemingly endless supply of anxiety. Inexorably, he began to drift away from the sensations of his body, floating instead in the space of his mind. The worry faded some, and his fears seemed farther away. Finally, after what felt like days, Jharmin Kyte found the silence within.

For a time, he simply reveled in the stillness, floating formless and nameless in a deep sea. Then he was yanked from his meditation in surprise. Within his mind he heard voices, still distant but approaching fast. Never would he have guessed what would happen next.

Chapter 12

To find what another man has hidden is to glimpse his soul.

--Sevellon, thief

* * *

Moving into the darkened inner halls of Dragonhold, halls that Catrin had never seen, felt surreal to Chase. It probably would have felt strange even if Catrin were there, but under Trinda's rule, everything felt strange. At first, he'd wondered why Trinda had allowed him to stay when she'd forced Millie to leave. Surely she knew Chase was loyal to Catrin and he, too, should have been asked to leave. But that wasn't what had happened. Instead, only Millie and Morif had been ejected from the hold.

He worried about them. At the time, he'd been tempted to go with them voluntarily, but something had told him to remain silent and stay where he was. Trinda had yet to acknowledge his relationship to Catrin; in fact, Catrin had never been mentioned at all since that first day. Now it was as if they had always served the child queen, as people were calling her. The girl had been cleverer than he would have imagined. She did the last thing anyone expected: she told people to keep doing what they had been doing, to continue to enact Catrin's will.

Why go to the trouble of seizing control just to have everyone do as they had been, Chase asked himself. The answer chilled him. It was to make the transition easy for the people, to allow them to serve out of habit. And once serving the child queen became habit, then she could demand anything she wanted. Chase knew she was nowhere near that point yet, but she'd made more rapid progress than most would have believed.

This was due in part to the discoveries that she and Durin and Strom had made within the hold. The water alone was enough to bring the people closer to Trinda. It was on her request that Durin had mistakenly jumped on the stone plate that controlled the water. Whether Trinda's request or Durin's mistake resulted in restoring the water was subject for debate, but nonetheless, Trinda got most of the credit. At first, of course, the water had been a nuisance due to clogged channels that prevented it from flowing freely and caused widespread flooding in the hold. Much of that had been rectified now, but Miss Mariss still had to haul water from the kitchens by the bucketful. This fact reminded Chase that Durin walked beside him. In truth, the boy walked behind him.

"Do you still think he's all right?" Durin asked when Chase looked back.

"With all my heart," Chase said.

Durin nodded and Chase could feel his pain. It was one thing to lose a friend; it was another to believe it was your fault. Chase knew that feeling all too well, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"Now that most of the channels are unclogged and the water is flowing, do you think she'll let us try the other stones? I mean, they all have to do something, right? What do you think they do?"

Chase didn't know the answers to any of the boy's questions. "I don't know, Durin, but I think for now we should concentrate on what we were asked to do."

"I still think she just doesn't want us around," Durin said. "Why else would she send us looking for an underground forest? That can't really exist, can it? I mean, I know there were some trees by the river, but an entire forest?"

His questions poured out so fast that Chase had no chance to answer them, not that he had any answers to give.

"How can Trinda know all this stuff? And if she had power before Catrin, then wouldn't that make her the Herald of Istra?"

The thought hadn't occurred to Chase before, and it chilled him. But in the end, he knew it didn't matter. "The Herald of Istra is whoever people believe it to be. The belief is all that really matters. Without that, the whole prophecy falls apart."

Durin cast him a sideways glance, and Chase was pretty sure he'd lost the young man.

"Who do you think is the Herald of Istra?" he asked Durin.

"I've no idea," the boy said.

"That's probably the smartest thing I've ever heard you say."

There seemed to be nothing else to say for a very long time. They just kept walking, and Chase spent most of his time sketching a map of what they passed. The size and scope of Dragonhold was becoming apparent to Chase and Durin and a few select others. Most knew that there was more of the hold being discovered and explored, but few got the chance to experience just how massive the place was. It was as if the mountains themselves were hollow, and in many places the stone above was translucent and allowed soft amber light to wash over them.

What amazed Durin most was the number of rooms, dwellings, caves, corridors, and other structures. It seemed as if the entire population of Godsland had once lived within these mountains. It would take years to properly explore. Every hall or doorway they passed sparked Durin's desire to search for magic or treasure or who knew what mysteries that waited beyond, but Chase kept him pointed in the right direction. The only way they would find this forest was to be methodical, assuming the forest even existed. In a way, Chase wished Durin hadn't raised that doubt.

"I need another torch," Chase said as the one in his hand sputtered and looked close to going out.

Durin had already grumbled about being along only to carry torches, and he said no more when handing another to Chase. At least his load was getting lighter.

Trinda's request for the herald globes was another thing that concerned Chase. Durin had told him that Trinda somehow used a herald globe as a weapon, and a devastating one at that. In the short time that the globes had existed, Chase had become accustomed to having one with him at all times. Perhaps it was just the fact that he had been spending a great deal of time in the darkness of the hold that the globes had become such a crucial tool. Turning over his globe had been one of the most difficult parts of this entire experience. After all, what could one person do with more than a thousand herald globes? The question bothered him greatly.

Struggling to get the new torch lit, he fully realized just how revolutionary the globes really were. They represented progress, a leap ahead for all of Godsland, and now Trinda was hoarding them.

"Wait up," Durin said, and Chase realized that he'd been walking faster and faster, driven by his anger. When he lifted his head, though, his anger faded away.

"No way," Durin said from beside him. "There's absolutely no way that's real."

* * *

"Are you there?" a voice called from the emptiness above the sacred stone.

Jharmin Kyte sat very still.

"Are you there, Lady Lissa?" came the voice again.

This time the voice named his wife. All at once the realization hit him; there really was magic here. Not just the sense of magic, but real, functional magic. This magic did something important. Then the anger crept in. How had Lissa kept this from him? How many secrets did that woman have? So many questions ran through Jharmin's mind, but he knew his chance to act was fast slipping away. "My wife is not here," he said, and he actually heard the sharp intake of breath from wherever it was that the other spoke. "But I recognize your voice, and I believe you've served me longer than you've served my wife."

Stunned silence hung for a moment before the man Jharmin knew was a spy that he himself had placed within Ohmahold spoke. "I'm sorry, sir," Hand said. "I would never betray you, sir. But I could not turn your lady away, and she swore me to secrecy. I've done my best to serve you both."

The fact that Jharmin had agonized while waiting for messages from Hand to arrive by bird fueled his anger, but he drew a deep breath. "Tell me everything."

"I would, sir, but there is no time. Catrin's son will be here soon, and I must be there to greet him, or he may not be left in my charge."

"Catrin's son?" Jharmin asked, shocked. "Sinjin is coming to Ohmahold?"

"You didn't know?" Hand asked, and Jharmin flushed but didn't answer. At least Hand could not see his reaction.

"What do I need to know?"

Hand considered for a moment before speaking. "The darkness will come for you soon, and the Herald will not be able to help you. Her son will be used to draw the Herald north, where she will likely die. That will leave the armies free to take Wolfhold and Ravenhold."

"And when in blazes were you going to tell me this?" Jharmin choked.

"A bird should arrive today, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Lissa had known and still she had chosen not to tell him. Even though her leaving was warning enough, it still galled him that his wife would keep so many secrets from him, especially those that would affect the fate of both their peoples.

"What else?"

"May the Gods be with us all," Hand said. Then he was gone.

* * *

In the blackness of night, surrounded by clouds, Sinjin knew fear. Thin air left him weak and light-headed. Whenever he woke from his fits of sleep, it didn't take him long to realize where he was. The grip of the dragon's claws added to his discomfort; it was, at least, a more relaxed grip now than it had been.

"Dragons can sleep while they fly, you know." Kendra's voice danced on the wind, making her sound distant. Sinjin hadn't known that, but he supposed it did make sense. "I think the dragon carrying us is sleeping right now."

This statement led to the sickening realization that the dragon was also holding on to them while sleeping, and if it twitched in its sleep . . . Sinjin tried to drive the thought from his mind. Rubbing his still sore wrists, he waited to see what else Kendra would say.

"I need your rope."

"What for?" Sinjin asked. Part of him wished to be rid of the rope that had once bound him. It had taken hours of painful contortions to free himself. Though the rope had caused him pain, it was also a tool, one of very few at his disposal. Part of him wanted to tie himself to one of the giant claws not so gently cradling him. That way, at least, if the dragon twitched, he would not fall.

"I need it to secure myself, so I can climb up to the dragon's head," Kendra said, sounding annoyed.

"You've lost your senses."

"Just give me the boiling rope. Or don't you want me to save your life? They probably won't kill me, you know. But you? You're a dead man."

"I appreciate your concern," Sinjin said, trying not to sound sarcastic, "I really do, but getting yourself killed isn't going to help me."

"I'm not going to get myself killed," Kendra said with exasperation. "I'm going to make the dragon alter its course. I learned everything I could about dragons from the time we left the Godfist. The walls on that ship are thin, and I could hear things I wasn't supposed to. I knew you'd be transferred to a dragon if your mother arrived."

Sinjin remained silent, made ill by the way people plotted against his mother, who had done nothing to harm any of them. His rage grew, silent and smoldering, like the coals of a banked fire, breathing and ready to erupt into flame at any instant given the right conditions.

"Something my mother taught me about pigeons gave me an idea, and it might be your last hope." From within her cloak, Kendra produced a black stone with irregular facets. The stone did not shine; instead it seemed to drink in the light.

"What is that?"

"Lodestone," Kendra said. "Now just give me the rope while the beast still sleeps. I'll explain later."

Reluctantly Sinjin attempted to do as he was asked; only it proved to be both difficult and terrifying. Kendra was clasped loosely in the dragon's other claw, and there was a sizable amount of empty space between them. Kendra stretched out toward him with her hand, the wind casting her hair out behind her like a dark flag. It shimmered and she looked beautiful, but Sinjin tried hard not to think about that, even if it was a good distraction from the fact that he could get sucked into open air at any moment. His knees trembled as he reached out to Kendra. The distance was too great.

"Throw one end to me!" Kendra shouted into the wind.

Sinjin wrapped one end of the rope around his wrist multiple times, and hoped it would be enough. If he lost his hold on the rope and Kendra didn't catch it, then it would be lost. With a tentative throw, the wind caught the rope, and it immediately stretched out behind him, at the mercy of the wind. He tried again, throwing it far in front of Kendra, hoping to compensate for the wind, but it was not enough.

"Ball up your coat and tie the rope around it," Kendra shouted. "That will give it some weight."

Sinjin did as she asked, all the while knowing he was going to regret it. The cold air bit through his loose clothing, and he shivered as he tied the rope around his wadded-up coat. Reaching out as far as his courage would allow, Sinjin threw the jacket with all his might, again aiming ahead of Kendra, and this time it worked.

Reaching out farther than seemed safe to Sinjin, Kendra caught the jacket and pulled it in to her. The rope between them was caught in the wind and went taut when Kendra held firm. This sent Sinjin moving toward open air. With a desperate lunge, he crashed into the dragon's claws. After he released the rope from his wrist, he wrapped his hands around the mighty claw and panted. The dragon's grip tightened momentarily, and Sinjin feared his movements had woken the beast. Moments later, though, the dragon's grip relaxed once again, and Sinjin gathered enough courage to look over at Kendra. She was gone.