Shadows Past: A Borderlands Novel Page 26

  “You,” I said. “You’re the one who was spying.”

  In the dim moonlight I thought I saw him smile as he once more waved my feather at me. My gaze riveted on it, I took a step forward and a guard stopped me. “Careful, sir,” he said. “He may have a knife.”

  There was no telltale glint of metal, but remembering the blackened dagger, I halted. The pale man held up his other hand, fingers spread wide to show that it was empty. The guards and troopers formed a loose semicircle, some doing their own smiling as their hands rested on their swords. I stepped closer—and was knocked back hard enough to lift me off my feet.

  “What the sodding hell!”

  The shouting voices were muffled by the wind roaring around me as I hung in midair. Fighting to escape the whirlwind, I reached for air and the aspect appeared, only to spin around me in dizzying swirl as control of it was wrenched from my grasp. Struggling to gain it back, I felt something prying at my edges, pulling me out of shape. I raised my ash-wood staff to slam it against the paving stones, but the same something yanked it from my grip and the staff and air sphere orbited around each other as they also spun around me. Terrified, I cried out, my words snatched out of my mouth and swallowed by the wind as I hung helpless. The pressure outward increased and a second streak joined the air sphere, vivid against the night. Fire. Followed by another, reflecting the stars. Water. And finally one that filled the whirlwind with the smell of forests and fall orchards. Earth. My fingertips streaming in the wind, I wildly snatched at the water, but missed. I tried again, this time catching hold of earth. Both hands closed tight over it.

  Once before during a desperate fight I had taken hold of an earth sphere and had a goddess speak to me. This time Lady Gaia remained silent, but I could feel a rumble, faint at first, but quickly growing in strength. Suddenly, it was as if two strong hands reached up and grabbed my ankles, pulling me down. The whirlwind about me intensified and for a long moment I strained between the two, with the wind pulling up and apart, and the earth pressing in and down. The stones of the castle began to groan, and in the distance I could hear the town church bells ringing as the ground shook. Then just as swiftly as it began, the whirlwind stopped and I fell to the paving stones, landing on my hands and knees, gasping for breath. Hearing running footsteps, I looked up to see Bertram speed past in a near blur and rushed at the shadowy figure still poised on the parapet. Before he could reach him, though, the pale man did a back flip into the air, disappearing from view. Pushing to my feet, I also rushed to the parapet and looked down. The pale man and my feather were gone.

  There was a moment of silence. The shaking and rumbling had stopped and the church bells had ceased ringing, though dust and overtones from both seemed to hang in the air. Turning away from the parapet, Bertram hurried to me, his normally glowing face drawn in worry. There were footsteps that sounded behind me and I spun around to see the King’s Own I’d sent for help, along with Thadro, Suiden, Lord Idwal, Munir, Wyln, several aristos, more Own and troopers, castle armsmen, a Turalian soldier or two, and of course, Jusson.

  “Well,” Munir said. “That was certainly interesting.”

  Twenty

  We were all back in the great hall. Soldiers and armsmen had searched diligently outside the castle, but the pale man was not found, dead or alive. The acrobats and other entertainers had been questioned but none even remembered seeing the shadowy figure, let alone claimed him as one of theirs. The castle servants likewise had been questioned, and they also claimed no knowledge. I now stood before Jusson, the King’s Own, and Mountain Patrollers who followed me out to the broad walk standing with me. My entire body ached as if I had been pummeled by a marauding army. Judging by the careful stances by the others, I wasn’t the only one. Many bore scrapes and bruises from being blown about by the same whirlwind that held me captive, and an Own lay on a pallet next to Kveta, dazed from being slammed into a wall. Jusson’s gaze wandered over the battered guards while I explained why I had thought it a good idea to chase a stranger through unfamiliar hallways in a castle not my own—after being ambushed in the forest.

  “He had my feather, Your Majesty,” I said.

  Jusson sat in his crowned chair, his elbows resting on its arms, his hands folded over his flat stomach with his feet thrust out as his gaze returned to me, his eyes bright gold.

  “And so you didn’t think it wise to come to us to help you retrieve it?” Jusson asked quietly.

  “If he had, Iver’son, then you most likely wouldn’t have found this person,” Wyln said before I could answer. My cyhn stood next to me. Of the king’s retinue and castle guests, he was the only one. On either side of the impromptu throne facing me stood Thadro and Suiden, with Jusson’s nobles arrayed behind them, all of them looking very unhappy. Princess Rajya, Munir, Lord Idwal, Lady Margriet, and Berenice also gave me wide berth, just in case the king’s anger spilled over.

  “Oh?” Jusson asked, his gold gaze flashing to Wyln. “And why is that?”

  “Because, from Two Trees’son’s account, it appears as if it was someone who was very skilled in the air aspect,” Wyln said.

  “And therefore someone who can melt into thin air?” Thadro asked, looking momentarily intrigued.

  “I suppose you could call it that,” Wyln said.

  “Or perhaps he is part of those who ambushed Rabbit,” Suiden said. He nodded at the blackened weapons still piled on a table. “The ones who used the runes to escape.”

  Kveta made a soft woof as she turned her head to the captain.

  “That is also very possible, Your Highness,” Wyln said.

  “Regardless of who or what this person is, if Rabbit had done what he should’ve, he would not have had to fight for his life,” Jusson said. “But not only did he endanger himself, he caused harm to those around him, shaking the very foundations of the castle in his efforts to win free.” His gaze returned to me. “We’ve had this conversation, Cousin. Several times.”

  My spine stiffened at the king’s use of the royal “we.”

  “Actually, you told him not to shake off his guards, Your Majesty,” Suiden said, “and that he didn’t do. Besides, if Rabbit hadn’t gone after this person, we wouldn’t have known there was another wizard actually in the castle until perhaps too late.”

  Jusson stopped, sliding a look at the captain.

  “What concerns me is that he does have Lieutenant Rabbit’s feather,” Thadro said. “What mischief can he work with it?”

  “Plenty,” Wyln said.

  “If he’s alive,” Suiden said. “Wizard or not, that’s a long drop.”

  “Oh, he survived it all right,” Thadro said. “You heard Lord Wyln. Air mage. Besides, there was no body—”

  Jusson rapped the arm of his chair and Suiden and Thadro fell silent, blinking at the king. Jusson drew in a breath.

  “But I don’t understand,” Princess Rajya said. “If Rabbit is so strong in the facets, how could this other wizard overpower him?”

  “He has had very little training,” Wyln said. “And even the most powerful and skillfully trained can be overcome if taken by surprise.” He frowned at me. “Still, you know better, Two Trees’son. Earth against air, and if you must, then water.”

  “Yes, honored cyhn,” I muttered.

  “According to Rabbit, he did use earth,” Thadro said.

  “So he did,” Wyln said. “Eventually.”

  “The problem is, trained or not, Rabbit doesn’t think like a wizard,” Suiden said. “He thinks like a soldier and responds as a soldier. Most times, his wizardry seems to happen by accident.”

  “Understandable,” Princess Rajya said, her own gaze appraising. “But then, the trick is whether he can set aside being a soldier long enough to become a wizard?”

  “No,” Wyln said. “The trick is to become both—”

  Jusson rapped the chair arm a little harder, and Suiden and Her Highness now blinked at the king, while a line appeared between Wyln’s brows. Jusson waited a mo
ment. He then opened his mouth to speak.

  “It’s probably just as well this feather was taken,” said one southern aristos, a hint of disdain on his face that I hadn’t seen since Mayor Gawell sneered at me in Freston. “It is a pagan symbol gifted by a pagan priest.”

  “A symbol that the demon was anxious to get away from ibn Chause,” another southie said. “Remember? It protected him and it protected those of us who were dying and already dead.”

  “Protected?” Lord Idwal asked.

  “ ‘Dying and already dead’?” Munir asked.

  “Demon?” Princess Rajya asked, all at the same time.

  “Long story,” Suiden said.

  “The feather is a symbol of a covenant,” Wyln said. “Much like a crown is a symbol of the covenant between a king and his people. Or marriage tokens between a husband and a wife. Whoever said it’s worrisome that this talent worker has it is right. We need to get it back—”

  Jusson slammed his hand down. In the resulting quiet, no one moved, no one dared breathe. Satisfied, the king returned his gaze back to me. “It has been suggested that there we weren’t clear in our directions, so let us speak plainly. You will remain with your guards, who will make sure that at all times you are where you are supposed to be. Do not let us find you otherwise. Understood?”

  I violently suppressed the urge to ask where “where” was. “Yes, Your Majesty,” I said.

  “Good,” Jusson said. He started to rise. “We will continue this upstairs—”

  “Sire, your chambers,” Thadro began.

  “We know about our chambers,” Jusson snapped. “We also know that the floor beneath them is fine. We will go there.”

  Looking as though he was also suppressing words, Thadro bowed. “Yes, sire.”

  Jusson took a deep breath. “In the meantime, we will need to organize searches again tomorrow morning at first light, not only for this fell mage, but also for the others.” Standing, he aimed his gold gaze at Lord Idwal. “Join us, Mearden.”

  “Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Idwal said, also bowing. “Allow me to see to the securing of my House and I will come straightway afterwards.”

  Jusson hesitated, as if he were going to demand that Idwal join him immediately. Then, with a slight frown and a nod, he headed for the grand staircase. I started after him but came to a halt as I was surrounded by Own, and my spine tightened even more as they held off, not falling in line with the rest. As I waited, I felt a slight touch on my hand and I flinched, partly from pain, partly because I could still feel my fingers losing their shape. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Berenice standing behind me, her mother and father nowhere in sight. With a quick glance up the stairs to make sure Jusson was also out of hearing and seeing range, I turned and faced her.

  “My lord, we must talk,” Berenice said softly. “Now.”

  “I’m a little occupied at present,” I said.

  Berenice’s mouth twitched in what might’ve been a smile, but it was gone too quickly for me to tell. “As soon as possible, then. I can meet you where we were last night in a quarter hour—”

  Everything that wasn’t already tense and aching abruptly tightened and I hurriedly shook my head, fear blooming more at the thought of returning where I was so nearly taken apart than disobeying an angry king. However, I wasn’t about to let anyone know that. I made a discreet gesture at the guards around me. “I don’t think His Majesty is going to let me out of his sight.”

  “You’re a mage, aren’t you?” Berenice said, impatient. “You can disappear without him knowing.”

  “It doesn’t work quite like that,” I said. “In any case, I cannot—”

  “You mean you will not!”

  I gave a short bow, ignoring the pain that shot down my legs and across my back. “As you choose to believe.”

  Frustration flashed across Berenice’s face. “So much time wasted!”

  “I beg pardon?”

  She waved my question away. “I suppose if there’s no help for it, we will meet tomorrow morning. Early.”

  I shook my head a second time, but it might have been lost in the commotion as my guards began to finally move. “That would be up to His Majesty,” I said, borne on their current.

  Berenice’s eyes turned fierce as she moved with me up the first flight of stairs. “Are you angling for a higher born wife?”

  I gave a short laugh. “No. It has nothing to do with Princess Rajya’s offers.” Conscious of the Own around me listening, I lowered my voice more, softening it. “Whatever proposed alliance between us is dead, Lady Berenice. It is obvious that your father has changed his mind and whatever enthusiasm His Majesty had is gone—”

  “When you fought the rogue mage, the stag moved.”

  I broke off to first stare at Berenice, before lifting my gaze to the white stag over the hall’s hearth. The Own around me also shifted, also staring.

  “Not just that one,” Berenice said. “All of them, in all the carvings and hangings. Just like the one on the tapestry in the king’s rooms.”

  “They did?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  “Yes.” We reached the first landing and Berenice stopped, allowing those climbing the stairs to push past her. “Please, my lord—Rabbit. Meet with me early on the morrow.”

  “I—” I broke off as the guards pressed me up the second flight. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Berenice was swallowed in the remainder of Jusson’s train and I turned forward just as Jeff, Arlis, and Ryson came by with their own guards. I fell in step with them.

  “His Majesty will not be happy if you slipped off, Rabbit,” Ryson said quietly, having apparently overheard. Jeff gave a soft snort at Ryson’s understatement.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Maybe we can meet in the king’s chambers or something.” Someplace where the “where I was” was where Jusson wanted me to be.

  “She was right, though, Rabbit,” Jeff said. He nodded at the same Stag over the hall’s mantelpiece. “It moved.”

  “The Stag did breathe on the lieutenant in Freston,” Ryson reminded us.

  So the Lady’s Consort did, at the end when the demon had been defeated. I’d thought then that he was just giving me back what had been stolen. But maybe there was something more involved. Something that had nothing to do with magecraft and talents and everything to do with gods and goddesses and the fact that I had a shaman of the earth goddess as a teacher.

  “I am a good son of the Church,” I said softly.

  Jeff and Ryson looked at me, their faces troubled. However, Arlis stared straight ahead as we climbed behind the train, our footsteps loud in the winding stair, echoing and reechoing about us as we trudged in an ever-upwards spiral. Entering the lower floor, I stopped short to see Bertram at the fireplace, tending the fire, and then glanced down as if I could see through floors to the great hall. But before I could say anything about being in two places at once, one of the Own murmured that I was blocking the doorway. Hiding my own frown, I continued into the room and kept on hiding it as Jeff, Arlis, and Ryson and I were herded to a corner. Turning, I saw Wyln walking in right behind a limping Captain Kveta. After them came more King’s Own, a couple helping the dazed guard, more Own carrying the blackened weapons from the ambush, and finally the armsmen Captain Remke, a handful of Mountain and King’s Road troopers, including Groskin.

  It became very crowded very fast.

  Groskin moved as if he was going to join us, but Suiden snagged his lieutenant and began to speak with him in a low voice. However, my main focus was on Kveta as she limped to a pallet near the fireplace. Seeing the she-wolf wince, I started to go help, but was gently but firmly restrained by the guards. This time, not bothering to hide my frown, I turned to Suiden—and met Thadro’s frosty stare. I decided to remain where I was, keeping still as the Own brought their fellow guard next to Kveta, easing him down on another hastily arranged pallet and tucking a blanket about him. Suiden, Thadro, and Groskin converged on the prostrate guard a
nd after a moment of conferring, Suiden looked around and beckoned to Ryson. Slipping between our guards, Ryson squatted down before the dazed Own, gently lifting his face. After a few moments’ examination, Ryson rose and spoke with his superior officers before walking over to us.

  “Slight concussion from getting his noggin banged from all I can tell,” Ryson said quietly. “He has a good-sized lump on the back of his head.”

  “You’re a healer and a sword master?” one of the Own asked, surprised.

  “No,” Jeff, Ryson, and I said at once.

  “Just have a little field craft, is all,” Ryson said, shrugging his shoulders. “Usually there are a couple lads who take a bruising fall during a patrol, so you get to know the signs.” He gave a wry grin that momentarily chased the worried look off his thin face. “The Mountain Patrol did not have the luxury of a healer, so we learned to take care of our own.”

  “Yeah,” Jeff said. “Not that we had that many healers at Freston to begin with.”

  “And the ones we did get were immediately snapped up by one of the south patrols.” Ryson looked back at the concussed guard. “I’m sort of surprised, though, that Mearden’s healer isn’t here checking him over.”

  I was too. Even so, I did my own shrug, then held still at the sharp twinge that flashed through me. “Nothing he could do for him anyway other than what is being done,” I said.

  “True,” Ryson said. “Though he could do something for the pain.” He gave me a shrewd glance. “Same for you, Rabbit.”

  I gave an absent grunt of assent as I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in which to stand. There wasn’t one. My various aches had merged into one giant throbbing pain and I glanced around, wondering if I could snag a chair on the sly. But the closest ones at hand were filled with the other walking wounded, some hurt from the fight with the pale man, others from the anvea fiasco, and I figured neither Thadro nor Jusson would look kindly on me strolling across the floor to those that were empty. Holding in a sigh, I shifted again, leaning heavily on my staff. After seeing to the guard’s comfort, Thadro and Suiden joined Jusson and the aristos clustered about them, laying out plans for tomorrow’s search that was to begin at first light.