His Ancient Heart (11 page)

"Mediator," Spyne called out, once they were close enough. The entire retinue ground to a halt, the mumbles and motion replaced with the sound of steel sliding from scabbards.
 

"Who is there?" one of them, a female, replied. Spyne imagined she would have liked to send a light to him, to see his face. She wouldn't use her Curse in front of the soldiers unless it were necessary.

"General Spyne," he said, putting the glowing stone up so it lit his face for her. "What are your orders?"

The soldiers calmed at the sight of the General, their swords returning to their hips. All of the tension fell away from them, even as they shifted to stand at tight attention in front of him.

The Mediator came forward, passing through the soldiers. She was holding a rolled up parchment in her hand. "From General Thornn. He bade us travel into the mountains, in search of the Liar. Did you find him, my Lord?"

"No. He has already left this place. He went out this way. You didn't see him?"
 

"No, my Lord."

"Are you careless, or just stupid?"

The Mediator's face paled. She was a pretty one, young and slender, with wide hips and a pronounced chest resting beneath her robes. "General?"
 

"He went right past you," he replied, his voice calm while the anger churned inside him. "How did he escape your attention?"

"P... Perhaps he circled around us?"

"You didn't assign outriders?"

"Of... of course we did, my Lord. They saw nothing."

Spyne's deep eyes shifted across the row. They were a young assembly. Inexperienced. The type that Thornn wouldn't mind losing. "No. They wouldn't. It is understandable that he slipped past you. The Liar has many tricks at his disposal."

"My apologies, General," the Mediator said.

Spyne looked at her again. His eyes travelled the length of her body, pausing on her breasts and hips once more. He couldn't remember what Tella looked like. Was she as voluptuous?
 

"My Lord?" the Mediator said. Her nerves were failing under his gaze, and she was looking for some way, any way, to shift his attention. "If I may... what is this place?"

Spyne closed his eyes for a moment, shaking the shape of her from his thoughts. It wouldn't help. Nothing ever did. Besides,
he
would be angry if he treated a Mediator in such a way.
 

Even one that had to die.

The General turned the stone in his hand again, closing his palm and opening it, sending the secret signal to his Historians. Perhaps Thornn had never expected the soldiers would reach Genesia. Perhaps he had guessed they wouldn't dare venture in. More likely, he wasn't concerned with either outcome. He knew what Spyne would do. What he had to do. It was bad enough he would need to replace his Historians when all of this was over.
 

No, not Worm. He'll never speak of what he's seen.

"General?" the Mediator said again.
 

Spyne caught her eyes in his. He watched her face change, from general fear to abject terror, as she read his intentions in his dark gaze. She raised her hands to begin summoning her Curse, a yellow ring on her finger starting to glow.
 

One swift movement found Spyne's dagger buried in her chest, the magic dying at the same time she fell to the ground. The soldiers around her reacted with the expected fear and panic, struggling to make space to fight, draw their weapons, and prepare themselves.
 

The Historians swept into them like an ocean storm, their own ircidium blades coming free of scabbards just in time to make quick, killing strokes. Seven soldiers fell in the surprise of the ambush.

Spyne gained his own weapon and lashed out at the closest two soldiers. His blade shattered their inferior weapons behind the force of his strength, passing through the steel and into the chain, through the chain and into their torsos. Deep gashes left them screaming and bleeding out, joining their comrades on the ground, becoming just another corpse in a sea of ancient corpses.
 

Worm dashed from target to target, his knife barely visible as he ducked and swerved, dancing through the soldiers' defenses and finding the weakest parts of their armor. Blood sprayed from deep wounds, landing on the painted man's face. His twisted grin proved he was from Heden itself. Even Spyne didn't find such enjoyment in bloodshed.

It was over in minutes, the entire retinue of soldiers felled by an opponent that they outnumbered six to one. General Spyne approached the Mediator he had felled, kneeling next to her to retrieve his knife and clean his sword blade. He stared at her dead face, and then returned his attention to her body. He could feel his blood pulsing through him, his heart pounding. He stood and sheathed his weapons.

"There may be more up on the ridge," Peyn said.
 

"No survivors," Spyne replied. "Worm, go up ahead. If you find any soldiers, kill them."

Worm responded by taking the slope at a run.

"I'm glad he's on our side," Ollie said.
 

Spyne didn't hear him. His attention was back on the dead Mediator.

Why can't I remember your face?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Talon

The first thing he heard were birds chirping.

The first thing he felt was a burning in his neck.

"Fehri," Talon said, the word coming out cracked and weak.

"I'm here, General," the Captain replied. "I've been here all night."

"We're outside the city?"

"Everything has gone according to plan."

Talon opened his eyes. They burned from the dirt that had been poured onto him, the grave he had been buried in and then dug up from. His vision was blurry, but he could see the man sitting on a rock nearby, a water skin in hand. He stood and brought it over.

"Thank you," Talon said, taking the water. He poured it out onto his face, letting it sting his eyes and wash away the grime. Then he took a long drink from it.

"It is a thing of wonder," Fehri said. "You were dead for six hours. Your heart stopped, no breathing. Yet here you are. Certainly, you have been blessed by Amman."

"There is nothing wonderful or blessed about it." Talon pulled himself to his feet and felt his neck.

"The ropes had gone in pretty deep. It's all but healed," Fehri said.

"It still burns."

"I expect that it will be gone within the hour, at the speed you recover."

Talon closed his eyes again, taking a moment to feel the renewed beating of his organic heart. "Where are we?"

"Near the river."

"Good. We'll follow it west to where I left Eryn. I can only hope she's still alive."

"Amman protect her. As you command." Fehri turned and went back to the stone he had been sitting on. "I have some things for you." He reached around the rock and lifted a small pack. "I stashed them away in the cart before we brought your body out."

Talon took the pack from him and opened it. Inside was a new dark blue shirt, undergarments, a pair of black pants, soft leather boots, and a dark green cloak with a hood large enough to shadow any size head. A hunting knife strapped to a thin belt rounded out the supplies.

"I couldn't sneak a sword out," Fehri said.
 

"If we need weapons, we'll have worse problems than a knife instead of a sword." He noticed that the soldier was no longer wearing his blacks. "Where is your uniform?"

"Burned. The area is still thick with soldiers, and you're supposed to be dead. Well, the murderer who killed my guards is supposed to be dead. A Captain seen with the Liar? No. For now, I'm only Fehri."

Talon didn't miss that he referred to the dead guards as 'his'. "I'm sorry about the guards. I didn't realize that Oz could be so unpredictable, or I would have been more careful."

"It is not your fault. Nor is it the creature's. It has no soul to understand right from wrong. The fault lies in its creation."

"Then the fault is still mine. I helped create the juggernauts."

Fehri tilted his head. "There is so much to you I don't understand."

"There is so much to me I don't understand, either."
 

The memories were so fragmented, so broken. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the heat of the furnaces, hear the clanging of metal. He'd never had magic. What he did have was a sharp mind and a way with raw materials.

"General?" Fehri asked.

He hadn't realized he was slipping back into those memories. "I'm well. Give me one moment, and then we'll go." He quickly stripped off the dirty linens, pulling the clothes from the pack and slipping them on. As he removed the cloak, he discovered that there was another item tucked within it.

He lifted a small box from the cloth and ran his hand along the top. It was a simple thing, nothing more than lacquered pine with a set of ircidium hinges at its back and a latch on the front.

"I didn't put that in there," Fehri said, sounding confused at the presence of the box.

"Caela must have." He shook his head, not quite believing it. He pressed on the latch, and the box clicked open. He lifted the lid, checking the contents. Two vials of reddish brown liquid and an odd contraption with a thin bit of ircidium at the tip. "I can't believe she did this."

"Did what, General?"

It was the cure. Her cure. Her blood, returned from the refinery, cleaned of the Curse. She had given it to him, to give to Eryn. To save her life. It was a cure the Overlord might need herself before she was able to get more.
 

"Gave more than I asked for," he replied.

"The Overlord is kinder than most," Fehri said. "She understood my calling and made me the youngest Captain in
his
army."
 

Talon closed the box, returning it to the pack with reverence and care, and then unfurled the cloak and slipped it on. He couldn't ignore how the fates had aligned to bring him this far. He glanced at the soldier, wondering if there was something to Amman after all. "Let us make sure her kindness doesn't go to waste, Captain."

"As you say, General."

They started walking west along the Washfall, keeping to the bank and paying close attention for any hints of nearby soldiers. As Fehri had observed, the area around Varrow was still well patrolled, though it seemed as if the hanging of the murderer who looked like Silas Morningstar had imbued a sense of security among them. It was as if killing someone with a similar appearance meant that the real Liar must have been far off.

It was a boon to them, and it allowed them to sneak past the random groups of soldiers, skirting their perimeters and continuing the journey west, pausing only to eat and relieve themselves. Fehri was in excellent physical condition, and he surprised Talon by matching him stride for stride, his breath never rising beyond an even tempo. He also surprised the General with the fact that he had already brought him much further west than Talon had expected, leaving them staring up at the false owl that marked the entrance to the hidden cave as night began to fall.

"A lot of soldiers have passed through here," Fehri remarked, pointing at the horse trodden ground.

It hadn't escaped Talon's attention, and his worry grew with each hoof print that moved in the same direction as they did. "I expect Caela would have heard if Eryn were found. Besides, the cave is well hidden. I would have passed it on my way back to Varrow if Wilem hadn't brought me to it."

"Wilem?"

"He is a Mediator. Was a Mediator. Eryn took his loyalty, along with his heart."

"Another traitor?" Fehri asked with a smile.

"That is a matter of perspective."

They continued walking, away from the river and into the outcropping of rocks and trees, winding their way around and into the small niche that hid the cave beneath a large stone and a mass of roots.

"Someone was here," Fehri said, pointing to the edge of one of the stones. It looked as though someone had wiped their boot on it.

Talon fought to prevent his worry from turning to panic. He pushed the roots aside, leaning down into the small hole.
 

"Wilem? Wilem, are you there, my boy?"

Silence.

"Wilem?"

There was no answer. Talon looked back at Fehri. "Wait out here."

"Yes, General," Fehri replied.

Talon shrugged off the cloak. He placed it on the ground with the cure, and then stuck the knife between his teeth and slipped into the hole feet first. He pushed himself hard, sliding in and landing on the earthen floor with his legs bent, the weapon shifted from mouth to hand. His heart pounded as his eyes went straight back to the rear of the cave.

He lowered the knife, breathing out heavily and feeling his body relax. Wilem was on the floor next to Eryn, her head on his chest. He stood and stared at them, watching the slight rise and fall of their chests, grateful that he had made it back in time.

"Fehri," Talon said, leaning back into the hole.

"Yes, General?"

"Bring me the cure."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Eryn

"Silas?"

Eryn pushed herself into a sitting position, gasping for breath, her heart shaking beneath her breast. She blinked her eyes over and over, trying to adjust to the mix of darkness and light, to figure out where she was, and what was happening to her.

"I'm here."

She turned her head, finding someone kneeling beside her. She didn't recognize him right away, with a fuzz of hair on his scalp and face. She might not have known him at all if it hadn't been for the sharp cold of his deep-set blue eyes.
 

"Silas." She leaned into him, throwing her arms wide and wrapping them around him. He caught her, pulling her in and holding her tight. She kept her eyes open, afraid to close them again, her gaze settling on the man sitting at the table behind them. She knew she had seen him before, but she wasn't quite sure where. He raised his hand to her in greeting. "Where is Wilem?"

"Beside you," Wilem said.
 

She had jumped into Talon's arms so fast that she didn't even notice him. She pulled herself away and turned to where he was kneeling, his eyes moist with tears. "There you are." She tried to reach him to hug him as well, but her strength left her, and she began to fall.