Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (38 page)

“Even in my darkest times, I never forgot the hospitality of Elves,” he says. “Thank you, friends. Thank you.”

“Would that we could do more,” one of the Mages says. A woman.

“Yes, we would see you restored, friend. Your usurper vanquished,” says another.

“That is the goal, and your protection will be most helpful.” Valenor smiles.

“It is your protection,” a third elf says, “that has allowed us to thrive.”

Without another word, they all bow again and file out. Each one of them stops to look me over as they leave. Their silvery eyes bore into me. They nod. When they’re gone, I turn to Shoel.

“Are all elf Mages so scary?” I ask him.

He shakes his head and laughs, and the sound mixes with Valenor’s chuckle. The echo of the two together reminds me of the more sinister sounds coming from the yellow-green clouds.

“You have nothing to fear from our Mages,” Shoel says after a moment. “They are pure of heart, and filled with Light. They dedicate their lives to purity, kindness, knowledge, and the protection of Good. You saw it yourself. There is not a Mark upon them.”

I think of the Sorcerers of Zhaghen, with the blue-black curls that creep over their skin and slash across their faces. A sign of selfishness, of wicked overuse of magic. Those are the ones I hate. The ones who would waste their power without concern for anyone in their path. When she was younger, Viala told me that it starts at the heart.

“That’s why their robes were so low in the front,” I whisper thoughtfully, remembering the bare white skin of their chests. “I wondered.”

“Practice of the Arcane is a strict and hallowed art among our people. Any hint of the Mark is not tolerated here. A Mage will be stripped at the first sign of it,” Shoel says. He looks off into the distance and gives a half-hearted smile. Valenor looks away from him.

I can feel the tension between them enough to know that I shouldn’t ask what it’s about. There isn’t much to do now but wait for the others. I sink into a chair and look out the open door, toward the wall that blocks us from the battle raging on the other side. There’s no sign of it from here except for the rustle of leaves high above. Otherwise, it’s just as silent and peaceful as it was the first time I came with Raefe and Saesa.

“What did you say that’s about, the battle?” I ask Shoel.

“Cly Zhrel III,” his reply is word-for-word the same it was the first time. “Eighteenth Foray.”

“Who is Cly Zhrel?”

“A man who believes himself above the need for order and government. A man who sees boundaries as things to be broken and crushed. A Sorcerer and a Necromancer. A Warlock. A brigand.”

“But how can he be all of those things?” I shrink away from the door, even though I’m well protected by the wall and those fighting there.

“He is what he calls himself, and what others call him. Titles. Names. They hold power, Tib, as you are well aware,” Valenor says.

“But why?” I ask. “What does he want?”

“He seeks our source.” Shoel says simply. Valenor looks at him. Looks at me. Looks away.

“Your source? What do you—” my question is interrupted by a slew of curses and a rustle of robes as the vines at the door are shoved aside.

“Azi?” Rian calls as he rushes inside, followed quickly by Lisabella. “Oh, Tib, excellent, you’re here. Is Azi? Have you seen her?” he asks me, disappearing behind Valenor to search.

“No, I haven’t…” I trail off and shake my head as he reappears on the other side of the dragon.

“Told you! She’s not here!” Flitt squeaks as she darts around his head.

“Saesa?” he asks, his face going pale.

“No, she was supposed to be with you!” I jump to my feet, my heart racing. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“Calm down,” Rian says, more to himself than to me. He paces across the floor, back and forth. “I’m sure this can be explained. We were preparing to leave the Ring. Saesa had her hand. I said ‘Okay, to Mum, right?’ and Azi said, ‘Right!’ So we stepped away into the Half-Realm and I…”

“Aha!” Rian claps his hands and grins. “I know what happened! She thought I meant my mum and I thought she meant her mum, so I ended up here, with you,” he points to Lisabella, “which means Azi, of course, must have gone to my mum! That’s a relief,” he laughs. Nobody else does. Lisabella goes pale.

“So where is she, then?” Rian asks. “Healing up with the others? I heard about your flight on the way here. Good thing we weren’t on it. Azi would have been…” he trails off as he looks from me to Valenor.

“She isn’t here, is she?” he asks, turning around. “Where is she, Lisabella? Where’s Mum?”

Azi

My first concern as we tumble through the Half-Realm is that Rian’s hand has slipped from mine. My second is that we have arrived neck-deep in water, encased by some sort of stone. My armor seems to have magical qualities that keep me afloat, but Saesa isn’t so lucky. Even though it’s just studded leather, her armor is a heavy weight that threatens to pull her under.

I struggle to keep my hold on this girl who I swore to protect, who made her vow to serve me only moments ago among a ring full of fairies, her eyes brimming with tears. My squire.

Thankfully, my feet find a ledge. I guide her to it and we wait for the water to go still.

“Did you hear that?” she whispers as she clings to me. “Voices.”

I nod. A tunnel is carved into the stone. It stretches ahead of us, though it’s difficult to see how far. It’s so deep that my helm scrapes the ceiling as the water reaches my chin, and there’s little light here aside from a soft blue glow in the distance. Beyond that, everything is black. I keep my grip on Saesa and turn my head to listen to the voices in the distance.

“Bound by words, heart, deeds, and darkness. Never to be undone, except in death. We swore it together, Viala.”

“Viala is dead,” Ki’s weak voice is extinguished by a splash and a struggle. The water’s surface ripples along the tunnel toward us. Saesa’s eyes go wide. She looks up at me and I shake my head slowly as I try to make sense of it. How did I end up with Ki and Eron if we were trying to reach Mya? Is she here, too? But why would she be? How could she be?

A palace guard crosses the mouth of the tunnel ahead and shines a lamp to peer down at us. Saesa and I press ourselves against the wall, but he looks right at us. My heart leaps into my throat when the light shines over his face. Jac. He squints in our direction as the light passes over, looking hard. For a moment I think he sees me, but he keeps going. I slowly let out the breath that I didn’t realize I’d been holding and look at Saesa.

“He didn’t see us,” she whispers. That’s when it dawns on me.

“We’re still in the Half-Realm,” I reply under my breath.

“So we’re invisible?” she holds her hand in front of her face and turns it this way and that.

“Not invisible, but they won’t notice us unless we give them a reason to believe we’re here. A noise, or a disturbance of something they can see.” I pull my hand through the water and watch the ripples fan out behind it. “Like that.”

“What about the Dreamwalker?” she whispers. “He can see us either way, right?” she shifts herself on the ledge and looks up along the ceiling at the shadows.

“I don’t think so. Uncle gave me a talisman, and you’re still under Mevyn’s protections I hope.” We both go quiet as Ki splashes and coughs beyond the tunnel.

“But you said Mevyn…” she lets her whispers trail off.

“I don’t know. It was like he was absorbed into Valenor. Maybe a part of him is still alive, enough to keep his protections on you and your brother.” I put a finger to my lips and nod toward the voices.

“Get her out of there. Put her with the others and leave us.” Eron says.

We take advantage of the splashing that comes next to move further along the ledge, closer to them. It’s slow going at first, but we reach the mouth undetected. What greets us at the end turns my stomach.

The tunnel opens up into a circular room with a low, dark ceiling full of hooks and chains. A stone walkway runs all the way around it, and in the center is the deep pool of water that connects to our tunnel. Just beneath the water’s surface there is a fine grate with shackles attached to it. The room is bathed in blue light, and I follow it to the source: a heap of bodies across the way. Mya, Elliot, and Brother Donal lie bound and motionless, and the blue light glows from between Mya’s fingers. Hers is the only face I can see from this angle. Her eyes are closed. Silently, I pray that they’re all only knocked out.

Iren’s light comforts me somehow. I wonder how she came by it. The last I knew, Tib had it. I hope he’s safe. I shudder to imagine how any of them came to be here. Even more curious is that neither Eron nor Jac have noticed the glowing trinket.

Jac drops Ki against the wall and binds her to it. With another glance in our direction, he gives Eron a respectful bow and lets himself out of a heavy door to the left of the bound Elite with a deafening clang. I keep an eye on the others. None of them react to the sound aside from Ki, who shudders and shivers as Eron stalks toward her. The look in his eyes is that of cruel desperation.

When he turns his back to us, Saesa and I shift slightly closer. When he reaches Ki I expect him to strike her or shake her, but instead he drops to his knees and takes her face gently in his trembling hands. Ki never takes her eyes off him. She squares her shoulders and sets her jaw, bracing herself as he lifts her chin. This time when he speaks, his voice is shaking. Even this close, it’s difficult to hear him.

“I have searched for you. I’ve risked everything. My birthright, my marriage, everything. For you. For the plans we had. For the vows we made. Kythshire. The Wellspring. They’ll be ours. We’ll rule it, all of it. Cerion, Kythshire, Ceras’lain, Sunteri…everything. You gave me this hunger. If not for you…” He trails off as he leans closer to her, close enough to kiss her. Ki’s expression is cautious, like a fawn caught in the wildcat’s stalking gaze. “Look deep inside yourself. I know you can. Please, Viala. Please.”

Ki raises her chin and locks her eyes with his defiantly. “My name is Ki. Viala is dead.”

“Stop saying that!” Eron growls and slams his fist into the wall right beside her head. Ki flinches and he grasps her by the hair and forces a kiss on her. The blue light washing over the room seems to swirl together and concentrate on the two of them. Ki’s eyes glow bright with it. They search back and forth and around as Eron continues to force himself on her. They see things unseen by any of the rest of us. I remember what Iren told me just before we left Kythshire.
When the time comes, if she is faced with it, she will remember. This is her final test.

Saesa and I cling to each other, watching Ki’s demeanor change from frightened and tortured to relieved and hungry. She’s changed. I see Viala in her now. Her eyes close slowly. She presses herself into Eron, drinking in his kiss, trying to slide her shackled arms around him, surrendering to his touch. Aware of the change in her, he pulls away and scoops her hands into his, searching her eyes.

“Bound by words, heart, deeds, and darkness. Never to be undone, except in death,” she whispers to him. “I remember.”

“Yes, my love, my love,” he buries his face in her hair and trails kisses along her neck.

“No.” Ki says sternly, giving Eron pause. Her voice goes cold. “I was never your love.”

“Truly you were, Viala. You are. You always will be.” He draws her closer and tries to kiss her again, but she turns her face from him.

“Lies so deep, so dark that you believe them yourself.” Ki says as Eron slumps back on his heels. “You aren’t capable of love. Think hard, Prince. You have forsaken your own father, your king. You would have him killed so you could rise to his throne. You wanted me to do it, or have you forgotten? You begged me, but I made him fall ill instead.

“I hoped you would see reason, but you were already too far gone. You say it was Viala who led you astray, but did she lure you across forbidden borders? Did she convince you to betray the trust of the elves and the fae? No. That happened long before you met her. That was your own greed. Your lust for power. Your desire to control more than you were entitled to.

“The consequences that followed were your own to bear. The fairies’ curse frightened you, but you were too proud to admit your cowardice, even to those who cared about you. Until she came along, and then it was your lust more than anything that made you drop your barriers.

“You kept secrets. Your heart grew dark and twisted. Wasted. You turned everywhere for comfort but never found it. Empty actions. Wicked pacts. You depended on her for power. You allowed her to control and manipulate you. You let her bewitch you and draw that hunger out of you.

“Little did you know that she was only a puppet. Her strings were plucked by another. Someone even more wicked than you. Someone dangerous and clever. Even after she was gone, he watched you, molded you. You were too proud to see it. Even now, you’re too proud. You think every action, every brilliant idea is your own, but it isn’t. Think carefully. It isn’t.” She shakes her head disdainfully and slides away from him. “My name is Ki. Viala is dead.”

With every accusation, Eron’s shoulder slump further. His head sinks into his hands and he rakes his fingers into his hair. Ki’s chains jingle softly as she tucks her knees to her chest, watching. Waiting. I’ve never seen the prince this way. Curled into himself, he looks so small and vulnerable. Almost child-like. His shoulders shake with sobs as the depth of the truth sinks into him.

“It isn’t too late,” Ki whispers. “Your wife, your family, they still love you. Your father sent you here to clear your name. He still has hope for you. You can redeem yourself as prince. You could still rule Cerion in time. You’d be a fair king.”

Eron shakes his head, not in denial of her words, but in what I can only describe as some sort of manic episode. He pushes himself to his feet and pulls at his hair and paces along the walkway, muttering to himself.

“It isn’t too late,” he says over and over, coming to stop at Ki again. “Bound by words, heart, deeds, and darkness. Never to be undone, except in death.” He pulls her to her feet and draws his sword in one swift movement. “So I will do it alone.”

His blade flashes in the blue light as he drives it through her stomach and holds her impaled by it. Saesa and I clap our hands over our mouths to keep from crying out.

“And now it is undone,” he sneers into her shocked face, pushes her from the blade and watches her slump to the floor. For a moment he stands there watching, waiting for her sputtering breath to stop. As soon as it does, he shoves her with his foot into the water and stalks to the door, slamming it behind him.

“Ki!” I whisper and scramble to her side on the grate. Saesa struggles beside me. As I pull Ki’s face out of the water her eyes stare vacantly into the ceiling. “No. Please, no.” I whisper as I roll her onto her back to look at the wound.

It’s all the way through from front to back, a quick killing blow. I could have stopped him. I should have, but it happened so fast. I can’t accept it. I shake her, I call her name, but there’s no waking her. She’s gone. Saesa and I drag her out of the water and rest her on walkway. When I reach to close her eyes, they reflect the blue light so strongly that I have to look away. My gaze rests on Mya’s wrist. “The stone,” I say to Saesa, pointing in Mya’s direction. “Iren.”

She races to retrieve it for me and when she places it in my hand the light glows brighter. It seeps toward the wound as if reaching for it, so I place it there. The light brightens, stretching out over Ki, encasing her in soft blue ribbons. When she is completely covered in them they begin to fade away, and her with them. In a moment she’s gone, leaving Saesa and I behind with our unconscious allies.

I fight the urge to sob for her loss, and instead I push myself on. Ki is in Iren’s hands now. My guild needs me. I rush to them and I’m relieved to find them all alive. Alive, but sleeping so soundly that I’m not able to rouse them.

“Sleep spell?” Saesa whispers.

“Or—” my thought is interrupted by the eerie squeak of the door as it opens again. Jac enters alone and slams it heavily behind him. He stands with his hands on his hips, surveying first the water and then the pool of blood left behind by Ki.

“Didn’t think he had it in him, did you, Lady Knight?” His eyes follow the line of the walkway to us and rest on me. He smiles. “But he’s coming along well. Quickly, too. I see you’ve cleaned her up already. Good of you,” he walks past me to the pool of blood and crouches. “Valuable thing, life’s last blood,” he takes off his glove and places his palm into it. “It holds memories, you know.”

When Jac raises his other hand to gesture a spell, I catch within the shadows the echo of a figure, like a shroud around him. In that moment, Jac’s features shift darker. I see him clearly now, his cloak of night billowing behind him, his eyes bright and curious. He whispers the spell and the pool goes sickly red and black. Smoky forms rise from it, showing things that I can’t discern.

“Ah, you haven’t kept your promise,” Jac and Jacek’s voices blend together. “You were to touch the Wellspring, or have you forgotten? And alas, Ki never had the chance, either.” He watches the smoke intently, quietly. “Hm.” He turns to peer at me. “You have someone else with you, too. It’s her, isn’t it?”

My heart starts to race. Somehow, despite Uncle’s talisman, he can see me. Not only that, but he knows about Saesa. Or at least he thinks he does. Something in the smoke must have shown him.

“Come now, Lady Knight. Isn’t it exhausting, always hiding away? Let us see each other plainly. Step into the waking. You were fond of Jac once, weren’t you? Or are you more comfortable there, in the Half-Realm?”

As he steps away from Jac to move closer to me, the guard drops to his knees and collapses limply into the bloody puddle. Jacek is a ghost of himself here in the Half-Realm, but I don’t underestimate his power as he approaches, searching the space around me for my squire. I don’t know how it is that he can see me and not her, but whatever the reason, I’m grateful for it.