Sword and soul, p.13
Sword and Soul, page 13
Thia smiled. “Amara’s pregnant! That’s great news!”
“Tomil said he’d send word to us in Tavisholm if he found anything.”
“So did Elizabeth.” Thia focused on the letter again, reading the second page.
Cousin!
Are you sick? Did Caelynn get hurt? Mother told me to look for something that might cause some strange symptoms but not why. I hope you’re not sick. That wouldn’t be good. But you’re the strongest person I know, so it can’t be you. You don’t have to tell Jinaari I said this, but you’re stronger than he is. Not with a sword or in a fight, but you’ve faced some pretty terrible people and came out on top. I mean, we kinda helped. I think. Eli says hello and that I have to stop writing or Adam will leave without my letter. It was nice to see him. I miss you all soooo much! Stay safe!
Pan
“If the arrowhead isn’t with her, then it can’t be the source of the curse,” Caelynn said.
“Maybe it’s not a curse?” Thia looked at Jinaari, hoping he’d agree. His face was blank, though. That’s odd.
“Anything else happen we need to know about?” Jinaari’s tone was flat.
What was in that letter?
Adam shook his head. “No. I went to Cirrain first, then over to Almair. Took a short rest while Tomil wrote the letter, enough to recharge my stores, and came back here. Where’s Gnat?”
“Sleeping. You need to as well. I’m on watch. I want everyone ready to leave at first light.” His voice was firm.
The other two rose. “I’ll take this with me, see if I can find anything else,” Caelynn said as she picked up the book.
As soon as they left, Jinaari said, “Thia, go lock the door. Put the key someplace, then bring me the pitcher and bowl over there.”
She glanced to where he pointed. “What’s wrong?”
“Do it.”
“Okay,” she said, rising from her chair. She locked the door, then walked over to where the items he wanted were. Leaving the key on top of the cabinet, she brought them over. “What’s going on?”
He looked up at her, his face serious. “They’re lying.”
“Who?”
“Adam and Caelynn.” He poured water from the pitcher into the basin. “I caught them arguing before he left. There’s something they’re not planning to tell us until somewhere between here and Tavisholm. Caelynn said it was about their past, had nothing to do with your illness, but she didn’t translate the book correctly.”
“You can read Old Tongue?”
Jinaari nodded. “Our spells use it. It’s Garret’s native language.” Pulling a dagger out of his belt, he carefully pried up the wax seal on the outside of the letter he was given.
Thia blinked. “What did she get wrong?”
“The curse was put on the man by a death mage and could only be undone by either the caster or a God. At the time, death mages worked for anyone rich—or desperate—enough to afford their services.” Jinaari sighed. “The man hired the mage, desperate to save his daughter from a disease. The priest had refused to, because the family wasn’t well-connected. When his daughter got better, the mage asked for payment. Only the harvest had been lean and the man hadn’t been able to earn enough from his crops. That’s when the mage cursed him. Garret cured the man and gave his daughter to the mage as payment. He then turned on the priest, furious for his refusal to help. He disbanded the clerical part of his followers there and then, saying only those who knew the meaning of honor, would fight for justice, would ever be allowed to earn a place among his warriors. It’s the day my Order came into existence. The story is taught to us as initiates as an example of why we must hold to our word.”
Thia sat back; her chest tight. “I . . .” she stammered, “I don’t understand. Why would she not tell us that?”
“I’m not sure. Garret can be an arrogant prick, and the story does paint him in a bad light to anyone who doesn’t understand why he is the way he is.”
“Is that where you get it from?” Thia tried to lighten the mood, but her mind reeled from what he was telling her.
“It certainly didn’t lessen it.”
“Did Amara say anything in the letter beyond being pregnant? You didn’t share much.”
“She did, but not in writing.” He picked up the seal, “Back when I first went into training, Amara found a way to send me messages that couldn’t be read. It was her way of keeping me informed of some of the more interesting things going on at court, since I wasn’t there.” He traced a sigil, then put his hands on each side of the bowl and whispered, “Calidus.”
Steam rose from the water as Jinaari released his spell. “She could put a small drop or two of her blood into the molten wax of a seal. Until that letter got over twenty feet away from her, the seal would record everything she saw or heard, through her eyes. Any message with the words, ‘blood strengthens us,’ meant she’d done this. All I had to do was put it into hot water and let it melt.” He glanced at her as he dropped the wax into the bowl.
Thia leaned forward, not sure what to expect. The water turned a dark red, then the color spread away from the center. She saw Tomil’s face.
“I don’t know, Amara,” the duke said.
“Trust me,” Amara’s voice drifted up from the water. “He barely answered our questions and wanted unlimited access to the archives. Adam’s traveled with Jinaari for years. I’ve never seen him so anxious.”
Tomil handed her something, “You’re sure this will work?”
“It will.”
The background changed, and Thia watched as Amara headed down a hall and then a spiral staircase. “Adam?” she called out. “Are you down here?” She rounded a corner.
Adam stood in front of a wood table. Three books sat open in front of him. His eyes were wide. “I didn’t think you’d be done with the letter this soon.” Thia caught the catch in his voice.
“Tomil didn’t want to say much. He trusts Jinaari to take care of Thia. Are those the early texts?” Amara asked as she walked closer.
The warlock slammed the books closed. “Yes, well, I was hoping to find a clue as to the person Gnat spoke of. Helix.” He took the letter Amara offered, tucking it between the pages of one book. “I’ve got to get to Cirrain yet, and we can’t stay at the monastery that long. I know your brother’s itching to get back on the road.” He slid the book into his satchel. “I’ll make sure to return this one. Don’t worry.” Colors swirled around him, and the water in the bowl became clear.
Thia looked at Jinaari, her eyes wide. “He told us he went to Cirrain first. Never talked about the book. Why?”
“I don’t know. And that’s the problem.” Jinaari gestured at the letters she had. “We should burn those.”
Handing it over to him, her mind reeled. “They worked so hard to gain my trust,” she said, her voice quiet. “Both have saved my life. Adam helped me save yours. He told me there were some skeletons in his closet, but what could be so bad that he’d lie to you like that?”
Jinaari stood and walked over to one of the braziers. Thia saw him trace a sigil. The papers ignited, and he dropped them onto the glowing coals. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. They weren’t willing to tell me earlier, so I’ll give them a few days. Until then, I’ll set up any room we stay in where I’m between you and them. They won’t get past me.”
Thia stared at him, horrified at his suggestion. “You don’t think they’d do anything to me, do you? Jinaari, they’re my family!”
“So was Herasta. Right now, I trust them as much as I did her.”
Chapter
Thirteen
Rain poured in sheets, chilling Thia to the bone. The road wound through featureless plains; outside of occasional herds of wild horses, they hadn’t seen any evidence of other life for a week.
The air sizzled as lightning chased across the dark sky. “We need to find something,” she said to Jinaari. “You’re going to get hit if we don’t.”
“Over there!” Adam shouted.
Thia looked to where he pointed. In the distance, barely visible through the torrential rain, was a house. A barn sat off to one side, and smoke rose from the chimney. “Do we ask if they’ll let us stay?”
Another bolt of lightning struck nearby. Thia cringed as the thunder roared in her ears. The smell of scorched earth rose from the ground. “We don’t have a choice,” Jinaari said. “Stay close, but ride hard.”
“Hold on,” she whispered to Gnat. The cobalus sat in front of her, shivering in the weather. She urged her horse into a gallop, chasing after Jinaari.
As they got closer, she saw three people trying to get some sheep into the barn. The taller one turned as they approached. A father and his children? Jinaari slowed his horse to a trot, and she did the same.
“You picked a bad time to be traveling, friend,” the man shouted over the storm.
“It wasn’t by choice, but necessity,” Jinaari replied. “Can we weather the storm in your barn? We can pay for the trouble.”
“Nonsense. It’s our duty to shelter those who need it. My wife’s inside. Supper’s almost done, and there’s plenty. She always makes more than we need. Let the ladies go inside, dry off. Deion and I will help with your horses. Maide?” He glanced at a young girl, maybe ten, standing near him. “Run inside and let Mama know we have guests.”
Jinaari grabbed Thia’s reins. “Go,” he told her. “Take Gnat and Caelynn. Adam and I will bring the packs.”
Thia nodded, swinging her leg around the back of her horse. The mud was slick, and she grabbed the saddle to keep from falling. “Come on, Gnat,” she said as she reached up.
“Gnat like mud!” As soon as his feet hit the ground, Gnat began to splash in the puddles.
“Please, Gnat,” she said, “we’re going into someone’s home. It’s considered rude to track a bunch of mud in with us.”
His ears drooped. “Gnat sorry. Gnat forgot not everyone love mud like Gnat does.”
Thia watched as Jinaari and Adam followed their host toward the barn. “Come on,” Caelynn said. “Let’s get out of the weather. They’ll join us soon enough.”
A pair of windows flanked a door. Firelight bathed the interior in a welcoming light. A large wood awning protected the entry. The door was open, beckoning Thia to go inside and get warm. Keeping her head down, she rushed across the muddy yard and up to the house.
Standing at the door, she called, “Hello? We were told to come inside.”
“Please!” A woman called out. “Find a seat by the fire. I’m getting a few blankets to help warm you up.”
Thia kept her hood up. As she walked toward the fire, she willed the sparks to hide before she pulled off her gloves. Gnat stood near the hearth, as did Caelynn. Steam began to curl up from their clothing as the heat evaporated the water. I don’t want them to treat us special because of who I am, who Jinaari is, she thought. Best to keep things quiet as long as we can.
“Maide,” Thia turned at the sound of the voice, “please take the bard and cobalus up to the guest room with these.” A woman with pale blonde hair handed several folded blankets to the youth.
“Yes, Mama,” Maide said.
Someone touched Thia’s arm. Caelynn said, “The men will be in shortly. I’ll go see how much room we’ll have.” She glanced at their hostess, and back to Thia. “I think she needs to tell you something without us hearing it. Come on, Gnat.”
Thia watched the other two disappear up a staircase, a sense of unease growing within her. “We don’t want to be a bother,” she said. “We could easily stay here, on the floor. Or in the barn. We’ll be out of your way as soon as the storm clears.”
The woman turned toward her, and Thia took a step back. Pale blonde hair curled around her face. Except for the red eyes, she could’ve been Thia’s twin. “Nonsense. After all, we’re family.”
Thia glanced toward the door. It stood open; the storm raging outside made it impossible to know where Jinaari and Adam were. “Who are you?”
“Please, make yourself comfortable. My name is Valtikka. And, yes, Herasta was my mother.” She walked closer, gesturing to one of the chairs. “You look tired, Thia. I have no plans to harm you, though I understand your hesitation.”
Thia swallowed her fear, pushing it down. “You startled me, that’s all,” she said as she sat. “Your husband and children didn’t appear to be Thahion, so I didn’t expect . . .” she paused, “family to be here.”
Valtikka took a seat opposite of her. “I can see why that would be a shock. Mycchal isn’t my husband. He says we’re married to make things easier when we have visitors. He took me in during a storm similar to this one. His wife had died a year earlier, and he needed help teaching the children, keeping up the house.”
“How long have you lived with them?”
“Not that long,” she said. “I was near the surface, hunting for you, when word came that you were found. And what happened hours later. I decided to keep going forward instead of back to Byd Cudd.” Valtikka leaned back, folding her hands across her lap. “I wasn’t there, Thia, but I know what you did to Herasta.”
“I was drugged,” Thia said, keeping her voice even. “Lolc Aon coerced me into killing her, thinking it would be a step closer to me changing my affiliation to her.”
“It doesn’t matter. Garret’s puppet did what really needed to be done, clearing the path for the one that we should’ve followed this whole time.”
Something in the woman’s voice unsettled Thia. “The Thahion have a choice of Gods to follow, if they choose.” Rising, she said, “I’m going to go check on Caelynn and Gnat.”
A small smile crept on Valtikka’s face. “If you must. It won’t change your fate but go ahead.”
With measured steps, Thia walked toward the staircase. Valtikka remained in her seat, hands neatly folded on her lap. She focused on the tread of each step, listening for something telling her which room Caelynn was in.
Reaching the landing, she stopped. Behind a closed door to her right, she heard something. Her heart raced; she knew the sound far too well. Thousands of feet skittering across the wood floor beneath her. Readying the sigil in her mind, she threw open the door.
Gnat and Caelynn lay on the floor; hundreds of scorpions swarmed away from their bloated bodies. They crawled out from under their clothing and their mouths. Her friends stared at her with lifeless eyes. Thia watched the scorpions as they scrambled toward a shadowy recess. The young girl sat on a chair, mouth open, as they went inside her.
“No,” she muttered in terror, stepping back. Turning quickly, she ran downstairs.
Valtikka still sat in the chair. Mycchal stood near the fire, warming his hands. Neither looked at her as she ran into the room. “Knew the one was going to put up a fight, but didn’t anticipate him cutting down Deion, given his age.”
Thia stared at two large stones near the front door. They hadn’t been there earlier. A bolt of lightning illuminated the room, and she screamed. Jinaari and Adam’s severed heads stared at her.
“There,” Valtikka said, clapping her hands, “you’re free. No more ties to bind you to the life you had before. You can become who you were meant to be, who Lolc Aon herself feared. Welcome home.”
“They were my family . . . you offered us shelter . . . how could you?” Thia stammered in terror.
“Sister, they weren’t family. You had no blood ties to them. They were a means to an end, a way to keep you safe until you found me. I’m the only one you can trust to keep you safe.”
Thia shook her head, “No.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she didn’t care. The pain of grief was second to her anger. “They were family in a way you will never understand. I am no kin to you, or any other Thahion. I am the Daughter of Keroys.” The sparks on her hands began to shift; becoming small flames.
Valtikka rose, “You may be Marked by that pretender, but Lolc Aon’s blood runs through your veins. Her power, her glory, is your destiny. What trust does Keroys even have in you when he didn’t give you the power to save your friends? They failed their Gods, and you. That is not family.”
Thia roared, fire erupting from her hands. She sent it toward the two people near the hearth, bathing them in bright yellow flames. They screamed in agony; the smell of burning flesh made Thia want to retch. Her mind and soul numb, she ran out of the house and back into the storm.
The rage subsided, and the grief hit her like a tidal wave. Her feet kept moving; she didn’t know where she was going, just away from that house. From their bodies. Images of their eyes floated in front of her. “I failed you,” she screamed. “I said I’d keep you alive and then you died! For what? I can’t do this without you!’
“Thia!” A deep voice, calm and reassuring, called out from behind her. “Stop!”
“No!” she screamed as she ran faster. “I won’t do it! I won’t become what she was!” Through the darkness, she caught sight of a rock formation. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as she sprinted for it. The footsteps of the person chasing her grew closer. I need to hide!
“Thia!”
She closed her eyes for a moment at the sound of Jinaari’s voice. “You’re dead!” she screamed. “You’re not real!” A sob escaped her throat.
A pair of arms grabbed her, pulling her to a stop. Twisting her body, she clawed at them. She lost her footing in the muddy ground and fell, taking her captor with her.
“Thia, I’m not dead. I’m right here. I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not real.” His breath was warm against her cheek. “Please, come back to me,” he pleaded in a whispered voice full of pain.
Her entire body shook as she twisted, trying to break free, but they wouldn’t let go. “Let go of me!” she cried, the words coming out between sobs.
“No. I promised you I would keep you safe. I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re dead!” she sobbed. “You’re all dead and it’s my fault! I wasn’t strong enough to save any of you!”
“I believe in you, Thia. I know what you’re capable of. I’ve seen it, down in Byd Cudd. You broke free of the illusions then; you can do it again.”
