Wielder of Tiren (The Raven Chronicles Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter Ten

“
Y
ou aren’t coming, and that’s final.” Arwenna sighed. “There’s already been one attempt made to take you, Sera. I’m not letting you go. There’s no way I’ll deliver you into the hands of people like Senyan or Curtis.”

              Sera pointed a finger toward Liam, standing silently in the corner. “Liam gets to go. And he’s younger than I am! Don’t you dare tell me you’re shipping me off to visit Grandfather just to keep me ‘safe’, either! You just don’t want me and Kial to be together.”

              “It’s not that, Sera. I’ll admit, I don’t trust Kial. I know what that Mark means. You can’t simply resist the urge to tap into that power. I was more than twice his age when I came into mine, had years of discipline from my time in the service of Silas. He’s still a boy. In possession of a very dangerous toy. There’s no telling what he’s going to do when it wakes up. And it
will
wake up, Sera. He can’t escape it. It’s what he chooses to do with that power that decides his fate.”

              “I’m still not staying behind, Mother. You can’t force me to. I’ll just leave and follow you. Which way is going to be easier for you to keep an eye on me? Huh? Sleeping next to you at night, or in some alley that you don’t know the location of?” Sera crossed her arms. “Face it, Mother. I’m going. And nothing you can say or do will stop me.”

              She looked Sera in the face. “And are you ready to watch him die? By my hand?”

              Sera lifted her chin, meeting her gaze. “If that’s what has to happen, yes. But it won’t come to that. I know him. Do you really think I’d love someone who could do what you say he’s capable of?”

              “Oh, Sera. It’s not about that. Love doesn’t
matter, not in the end. Not when you’re dealing with power at this level. It’s about accepting what the other can do, what they are capable of. If you can’t do that, everything falls apart. No matter how much you love him. In the end, it won’t be enough to save him.” Her voice trailed off.

              She wanted to make Sera understand. She’d loved
Senyan at one point. Did things to him, for him, that she shouldn’t have done. Just to keep him alive. In the end, though, the price of that love was too high to pay. Joss’ life was part of that debt, and she knew it.

              “Liam, you talk to her. I’ve got to pack.” Sera stormed out of the room.

              They were silent for a time, each lost in thought. “She’s right, you know. You both are.” There was a hint of Joss in his voice. Enough to make the pain flare anew.

              “I don’t want to have to kill him. Not in front of her. But if I have to…”

              “You will. And she knows it. She wants to see Senyan get what he deserves for murdering Dad.” Liam paused. “Can I ask a question?”

              Arwenna looked up at Liam. “Yes. You can ask. I may not choose to answer.”

              He nodded. “I know that. There are things you and Dad didn’t share with us, and had your reasons for doing so. I don’t question that. I never have.”

              “So, what do you want to know now?”

              “If Kial is
Senyan’s son, and has stayed hidden for this long, isn’t there a chance this is all a ruse? A way to get you to show where he is? There are two
Sons of Corse in the world right now. And no God to limit them. Do they both have access to the power, or is it blocked in some way? Is it possible that they can’t share it, so one has to kill the other to gain access?”

              “I really don’t know, Liam. It’s possible that the power is in stasis until one of them is dead. Kial said he couldn’t work magic. And, while I know Senyan has, what he did was very rudimentary. It may have cost him a great deal to conjure even that small amount.”

              Liam shifted his stance. “So, what if all of this is a ruse by Senyan? To get you to bring Kial out into the open? Give Senyan the opportunity to kill him and regain all his power?”

              She thought for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time Senyan had used her like that. “It’s possible, yes. Only I had no idea where Kial was until today. I didn’t keep track of his family on purpose. I fooled myself into believing it was over at last.”

              “It will never be over, Daughter. Not until you have done what is necessary.” Krilln stepped out from the shadows.

              Liam looked at her, then Krilln. Arwenna read the confusion on his face. This was not the time for confessions, but she knew her son wasn’t going to let her off that easy.

              “What does he mean, ‘done what is necessary’?”

              Slumping into a chair, she sighed. “It means the only one who can kill him is one like him. Another Daughter or Son. One whose blood is as divine as his.”

              “What’s the problem, then? You’re a Daughter of Hauk.” Liam paused.

              It was Krilln that broke the silence. “The problem is that she has had the opportunity before. More than once. And has not done what must be done.”

              “You make it sound so simple, Son of Lexi.” Bitterness crept into Arwenna’s voice. “It’s not that simple. It goes against everything I believe, everything I’ve been taught. It’s what spared Kial sixteen years ago.”

              “No, Daughter of Hauk.” Krilln’s voice throbbed with passion. “It
is
that simple! You have not hesitated to take life before. Yet each time you were given the chance to take his, you hesitated. Chose to try and ‘save’ him! It has cost the lives of thousands of innocents! The life of your husband! And, if you do not act this time, it will claim that of your children!”

              His proclamation settled over her, weighing more than she thought possible.

              She felt Liam’s gaze, knew he wanted answers. Ones she wasn’t sure she could fully explain. “You’re right, Krilln. The price for my hesitation has been high.” She heard her son draw in his breath, knew he was ready to defend her. Without knowing the entire truth.

              “At one time, I loved him. While I was a priestess for Silas, travelers brought a severely injured elf to us. There were things I helped with, including binding him to a raven, that were done because I wanted to save him. It’s all I heard in my youth. Above all else, preserve life. Whatever the cost. And so I did what I was told. I took an innocent man and turned him into a soulless shell capable of leveling mountains.”

              She could still remember that first sight of the man she named Senyan on the cot. There was so much blood, even after they cleaned and dressed his wounds. The earnest plea from Father Morgyn to assist him as he removed all his organs, using magic to sustain her patient. Lending even more magic, enough to exhaust her, as she aided in the binding ritual. Never knowing the bird hid the mind of a demon.

              “Even when I knew what I’d done, when Hauk and Lexi found me in that hell Bohrs devised for me, I couldn’t do it. More than once, the opportunity was there. I’d leave my dirty work to another. Y’Dürkie, Barek. It didn’t matter. I left it to them to try and do what I could not. In the end, when I tried one more time to save him by rebuilding everything I’d ripped from him so long ago, it took your father’s death to complete the job. Ultimately, he paid the final price for my compassion.”

              She knew he knelt in front of her, could feel his presence as she spoke. Tears ran down from her gray eyes as she faced him.

              “Your father is dead because of me.”

              Liam reached up, made her meet his gaze. “No. He’s dead because of Senyan. And I never want to hear you say differently again.”

Chapter Eleven

I
t was much later. A few hours before dawn, if she was right. Too close to needing to wake to try and sleep more.

              Arwenna tossed onto her right side, punching at an offensive lump in her pillow.
Who am I kidding?
she thought.
It’s not the pillow that’s impossible. It’s me.

              Liam had left her after she told him everything. Didn’t say a word beyond muttering something about having to pack. The pain, and disappointment in her. That she saw plainly in his eyes before he left.

              “Of course he’s disappointed in his mother,” a male voice echoed in her small bedchamber. “Who wouldn’t be? Finding out she’s responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent souls. All because she couldn’t do one simple task.” A shadow, darker than the rest, moved toward her.

              Panic flared briefly, and then she channeled enough magic to illuminate the shadow in a bright green glow.

              Her eyes grew wide as a lump welled up in her chest. Dressed in the shroud she’d buried him in, the gaping wound on his neck still dripping blood, Joss stared at her.

              “You killed me, Arwenna. But you can’t kill Senyan. He was right. You never did love me like you did him.” A dagger appeared in his hand. It resembled Hala’s blade, but the hue of the gem was off. “There’s only one thing left for you to do, now.”

              Arwenna watched the knife float between her and Joss. The point dripping with the black ichor that she watched curse him all that time ago. That would turn her into another puppet.

              She stared into the eyes of her husband. “Really, Senyan. I thought you were beyond childish illusions now. Do you still think your petty magics will scare me? Conjure up an image of Bohrs if you want. Or keep throwing Joss at me. Either one is useless. They’re both untouchable now.”

              The illusion shimmered, and Senyan’s pale form stood before her now. Slowly, he twirled the blade in his hand. “I’ve got Tiren now. Nothing, and no one, is beyond my reach.” The dagger flew from his hand and toward her.

              She rolled to her side, dropping to the floor. Senyan laughed, “You’ve gotten quicker at least. Soon enough, Arwenna. You will welcome death before I let it embrace you.”

              She clawed at the only thing she could grasp, her riding boot, and threw it at the figure in the corner.

              “Arvenna! What is it you see?” Y’Dürkie’s thick accent shocked her.

              The woman, dressed in her riding gear, barged through the doorway. Her great sword drawn and ready. Concern and puzzlement adorned her face in the dim green light still present in the room.

              “There is nothink there, Arvenna. It is just you and me in the room. Vho were you talkink to?”

              Arwenna rose, her gaze still locked where Senyan had been. “He was here. Senyan. First, it was an image of Joss. When I called him out, he revealed himself.” She glanced at Y’Dürkie. “He alluded that he has Hala’s dagger. But it’s not Tiren. Just another parlor trick to throw me off balance.”

              “Vell, then, it is not lost. That is a good think. If ve can find Tiren before he does, he vill lose.”

              She reached out a hand to Arwenna, “Come. It is time for us to leave. Ve head to Tanisal, see this new King crowned. And then ve shall deal vith Senyan. And then it vill be over.”

              Arwenna raised her head, looking sidelong through the ebony black hair framing her face. “That’s the thing, Y’Dürkie. I’m not sure it’ll ever be over.”

* * * * *

              Dawn barely covered the eastern horizon when they found everyone in the courtyard. Dozens of palace employees darted to and from wagons and carriages, with the watch keeping close eye on the movements of them all.

              “Arwenna. Over here.” Frances called out.

              It took her a moment to recognize the Duchess. Gone was the fine dress and elaborate embroidery she wore most days. Instead,
she wore a serviceable
tunic and trews in browns and a rapier glinted from her side.

              The woman smiled, waiting until they were nearer to speak. “We aren’t going with the caravan. Ramberti contacted an old friend of yours. Captain Wolfgang’s going to take us down the coast. The rest of this parade of frippery,” she waived at the expansive courtyard, “is just for show. We know our progress will be slow. And watched. This will be safer for all of us.”

              She inclined her head toward a small doorway directly to her right. “Sera and Liam are waiting on the ship already. Kial’s in there, with Ramberti. We’ll follow them to the ship and be on our way before this lot is even done loading.”

              They followed Frances into the alcove, blending in with the dark shadows within.

              “Arwenna, Frances. Over here.” Ramberti’s voice was barely above a whisper. “They won’t keep the passage open much longer.”

              Using her hand against the smooth stone bricks, Arwenna followed the sound of the voice. A pinpoint of light led her to an opening in the floor. The Duke stood, his head and shoulders barely aboveground. “Watch your step,” he cautioned, before disappearing into the darkness below.

              Gingerly, she followed Frances into the tunnel. A single thief’s lantern gave off muted light, but it was enough. “Ramberti, you surprise me. I didn’t think you were on good terms with the Guild. Certainly not good enough to convince them to guide you out of the city.”

              He chuckled. “A few concessions had to be made. But we must hurry. We’re only guaranteed safe passage for a little longer.” The man planted a gentle kiss on Frances’ cheek. “Little do they know that she’s the greatest treasure I have.”

              They followed the meager light into the tunnel, not worried about tripping on anything. Arwenna and Y’Dürkie had been in these tunnels before, smuggled out of Almair. But instead of heading away from the docks, they headed toward them.

              Their guide extinguished his light. “We are here. The Captain is expecting you. He’s on the Cygnet already, but a boat waits beyond this door. You’re past the docks, in a cove. No one should recognize you, even if they do see you.” He raised the bar on the door in front of him, then pushed it aside for the five of them to walk through.