Keeper: First Ordinance, Book 2 (6 page)

Berel attempted to contact his father in Kondar shortly after.
At first, there was no reply—I can only imagine that the wall of fog prevented
communication in some way, but once the fog lay far behind us, Berel's tab-vid
worked perfectly.

He and I both breathed happy sighs when Edden Charkisul's face
appeared on the small screen.

"We're getting close, Father," Berel smiled at his
parent. "At our current speed, we should arrive in four hours. The Captain
reports that most of the sharp rocks and other obstacles have disappeared off
his scanners and they've mapped a clear path to the city Quin calls Lironis."

"Have you seen any of the inhabitants, yet?" Edden
asked.

"No. We are far enough offshore that we cannot see land
yet. The scanners now indicate it is there, though. Isn't that exciting,
Father? I feel like an explorer from centuries ago."

"You are an explorer, Son," Edden smiled. "I
will receive reports from the science officers, but I prefer your reports above
theirs. Keep me informed."

"I will," Berel nodded enthusiastically.

Berel couldn't see it, but I could; worry clouded the High
President's face. Civil war threatened Kondar and he was preparing for battle,
should it come. When Berel ended the communication with his father, I asked my
questions.

"Will you show me everything you have on the one who
imprisoned you?" I begged. Berel nodded and requested information from the
tab-vid's store of knowledge. Before long, both of us pored over images and
reports concerning Dorthil Crasz.

* * *

The urge to fly about the Western spires overwhelmed me when
we passed them. Amlis and Rodrik had never seen them from the west, so they
stood at the railing with Berel and me as we passed. Berel held his tab-vid
aloft, recording images for his father.

Farther east, past the spires, I could see the darker outline
of the cliff where I'd sat on Stepper's saddle, gazing at the wonder of the tall,
spiked formations. Birds still wheeled about them; the spires were home to them
and the sharp rocks held many nests.

"We will arrive in less than two hours," Kaldill
joined us at the rail. "So much might be done with this world," he
breathed. "I worry that it may not be possible."

I knew Kaldill was old—I merely couldn't comprehend how old he
could be. To him, the Larentii who now stood beside him was very young. I found
it amazing that neither Kaldill nor Daragar showed any signs of age. Both were
more than ancient, yet they appeared quite young.

Had Kaldill not been immortal, I imagined his face would be
covered with the lines of his worries throughout the millennia.

"You see too much," Kaldill reached out a hand and
tucked hair behind my ear. At least my hair had grown out along with my
wings—it was now down to my shoulders. Where Kaldill's hair was a golden color,
mine still contained gold, copper and silver strands. Most days, I had no idea
what to make of it.

"It's beautiful," Kaldill reassured me. "Never
berate yourself or what you have because it is different. Rejoice in it,
instead."

"Not always an easy thing to do, King Elf," I nodded
respectfully to him. I didn't want to say it—was almost afraid to think it—but
his touch had sent a wonderful shiver through me and I wanted to savor it as
something that belonged only to me.

Instead, I turned my thoughts to Tamblin and how he'd proclaimed
himself King of Fyris. A real King stood humbly beside me and thought to brush
hair away from my face when the wind blew it into my eyes. Tamblin would only
take his pleasure from a lowly servant, never thinking of her—only of himself.

* * *

Vhrist

"My King, we saw terrible things," Captain Herth of
the fishing vessel Grunt, reported to Tamblin.

"Terrible things?" Tamblin sounded bored.

"Where the strait begins—you know of it?" Herth
trembled, a fisherman's cap held tightly in his fingers as he addressed the
King.

"I know of it." Tamblin shifted on his temporary throne
and cut his eyes toward Yevil, who stood nearby. Tamblin had never seen the fog
representing the strait—he'd only heard reports and knew of the written
accounts of many sailors. He'd also heard of it from his brother, Tandelis—who'd
visited the glass castle several times.

"Anyways," Herth swallowed with difficulty, "we
saw three huge things. Perhaps they were boats, I know not, as I cannot imagine
anyone making anything so large. They appeared to be made of metal, but how can
metal float? It is sorcery, my King, I have no doubt. They passed through the
fog and as we were half-covered in it ourselves, I don't think we were seen."

"How large?" Tamblin's attention was now captured.

"Too large to describe, my King."

"Did you attempt to follow?"

"Too afraid, sir. Fast, they traveled. I doubt we could
have kept up."

"Where were they heading?"

"Down the western side—toward the spires."

"All of your crew saw this?"

"Yes, my King." Herth now doubted his decision to
come to the King with this news. After all, Tamblin could act irrationally and
kill him and his crew. It wouldn't be the first time, Herth realized. He
swallowed again—hard.

"Does any of your crew have a drawing talent? I wish to
see what these things look like."

"One sailor, sir. The youngest."

"Fetch parchment," Tamblin shouted. "Bring your
sailor," Tamblin's hard gaze settled on Herth.

* * *

Lironis

Quin

The ships were forced to anchor far from the old docks in
Lironis, as the waters were too shallow for their bulk and the planks and
pilings had rotted over the years. None thought to repair them for any reason;
still, people of Lironis gathered when the ships arrived, as they could be seen
quite a distance from the shores.

"I must arrive by boat," Omina snapped before
Daragar could offer his skills at relocation. "The people must see Amlis
and me returning thus."

That's how all of us prepared to leave the ship—by smaller
boats lowered to the water by the ship's crew.

"Truly archaic," Kaldill whispered at my side as he
gazed at the city beyond. Berel, breathing short, excited breaths, recorded
more images on his tab-vid as we awaited our turn in the boats.

"Quin and I will arrive as we should—by flying,"
Justis' hand dropped to my shoulder. That meant Ardis would fly with us. "We
will accompany the boat carrying Omina and Amlis. It is proper that they be
guarded by Avii upon their arrival."

"I will place a shield, then," Daragar nodded to
Justis. "To ensure your safe arrival."

"You have my thanks," Justis ducked his head. He
knew—as did I—that Daragar thought to protect me, first. Kaldill, standing
nearby, hid a smile.

You have my thanks as well
, I silently sent to Daragar.
He smiled, then.

You are welcome
, he replied.

* * *

Lironis

Yann, Varnell's man-at-arms, shaded his eyes as he gazed westward.
A minor noble, Yann had been assigned to Varnell ten turns earlier, when he was
still a stripling. Yann hated the old man—and the King—but hid his feelings as
well as any other inside the castle.

Many times, he wished himself strong enough to murder Yevil,
but realized his death would come swiftly should he try—at either Yevil's hand
or the King's guards'.

Instead, Yann spent most of his days barely speaking and
obeying Varnell's every whim. Today, Varnell had sent him to the old docks to
see what the fuss was. Yann resolved to never forget the way the Prince-Heir
and the Queen arrived—in a sturdy metal boat manned by strange sailors and
guarded by three Avii, whose wings beat a steady rhythm as they flew about it.

Omina and Amlis stood tall at the center of the boat while it
raced toward the shore. Several of the men aboard the vessel held strange
weapons, too—to Yann, they appeared as thick, metal sticks. He had no idea what
their purpose might be, other than to strike another with their weight.

Shoving his way to the front of the crowd waiting on the
rotting dock, Yann was the first to drop to his knees and pledge support to
Amlis the moment the Prince stepped onto the old pier, the Queen right behind
him.

* * *

Quin

"Make way for the Prince. Make way for the Queen,"
the crowd took up the chant as Amlis strode forward, his boots making the
wooden planks creak beneath his feet while Omina walked a step behind at his
shoulder. Rodrik watched the crowd warily as he had no sword—it had stayed
behind at Avii Castle.

Justis, Ardis and I landed lightly behind; the crowd pulled
away from us automatically. I would have too—the gaze Justis leveled upon them
relayed his accusations—in his eyes, they'd all murdered Elabeth and Camryn.

When Daragar and Kaldill appeared from nothing, the crowd
gasped and shrank farther back. They knew nothing of those who might appear and
disappear at will. The sight of a very tall, blue man was also something they
might never expect; therefore, the Larentii frightened them.

"It's Finder," I heard someone whisper. Jerking
quickly, I turned to see who'd spoken.

Eyes ahead, dear Quin
, Kaldill spoke into my mind.
We
will make discoveries later
.

He was right—it wasn't my purpose to search for those who
might recognize me—I was there to guard the Prince and Queen.

More gasps came as additional boats disembarked behind us; I
didn't turn to look. Berel, Wolter and the others would be coming ashore
guarded by Kondari soldiers, all of whom carried weapons.

The walk from the docks to the castle took half an hour, and
half of Lironis arrived to watch as we strode unhindered through the palace
gates. I didn't fail to notice, however, that the people who watched were more
starved and sickly than they'd been when I left.

The sight of it grieved me much.

It wasn't until Amlis and Rodrik approached the main door that
Varnell's guards appeared; they'd hastily dressed in old armor and faced us
with their swords drawn. Varnell himself pushed through them until he stood six
paces from Amlis, a blade drawn and pointed threateningly at the Prince.

"You think to delay me?"

It wasn't Amlis who spoke, or Rodrik or the Queen. Varnell
blinked at his empty hand and then at Justis, who'd snatched the blade from the
old man's grip. "I tell you this, old man," Justis held the sword to
Varnell's throat and hissed in his face, "If any are still living who
participated in Elabeth's murder, I will kill them myself."

Justis tossed Varnell's blade onto the courtyard stones, where
it rang its metallic protest into ensuing silence.

* * *

"I wish to send a message to my father in Vhrist,"
Amlis said. He'd found his quarters much as he'd left them, aside from the
thick layer of dust that covered everything.

"Unwise, my Prince," Rodrik scolded. Amlis nodded
after a moment and I released the breath I'd held.

Dena, who'd followed me, now supervised the maids who'd shown
up to clean Amlis' chambers while the rest of us attended to other duties.

Across the hall, more maids and servants did the same for
Omina. Wolter and Deeds had gone to the kitchens to see about food and supplies
while Berel, who sat at the Prince's desk conversing with his father, offered
supplies from the ships if needed.

"Son, allow me to speak with Quin, please," Edden
said.

"Yes, High President?" I moved to stand at Berel's
elbow, so Edden could see my face in Berel's screen.

"There are airchoppers on board one of the ships,"
he said. "I understand that someone must accompany my pilots to get in and
out again. Who will you recommend to guide us?"

"Orik," I said immediately. "He has sailed the
waters around Fyris for many years and knows how to locate the strait. Fen,
also. Perhaps one or two others, depending upon how many airchoppers you wish
to send."

"Two, I think, for a preliminary relief delivery,"
Edden said. "I'll have supplies delivered to Avii Castle, and the
airchoppers can fly them from there."

"That would be greatly appreciated," I said. "The
people are starving—the harvests have been very poor and far from what they
should be."

"Yes, we've analyzed the images Berel sent and that's our
conclusion as well."

"I hope the people will agree to allow the ships' medical
staff to examine those who are ill," Berel said.

"That may take time—they are quite distrustful at the
moment, as your technology appears to be sorcery to them. They don't understand
it at all."

"Will you heal them?" Berel asked.

"I may do some," I allowed my shoulders to droop. "I
worry about depleting my energy in the face of so many."

"Not everything is your worry," Wolter walked in and
dropped a hand on my shoulder. "Do what must be done and in private. We
don't need all of Fyris at the castle gate when they learn what you can do."

"Quin, many of them are treatable through other means.
Save what you have for the worst off and most deserving," Edden said. I
knew what he wasn't saying—that he'd had to pay for that privilege for Berel. I
wanted to apologize, but it hadn't been my greed that demanded payment. I would
have done the healing for nothing, because it was deserved—by father and son.

"Halthea is dead—she tried to kill the King," I
blurted instead.

"I have already heard that news so I know why you tell me
this," Edden nodded. "It is none of your fault, child. We understand
this."

"Thank you, High President," I ducked my head in a
gesture of respect. Edden smiled at me in return. "I shall make you a
citizen of Kondar. Immediately," he replied.

* * *

Vhrist

"Do you know anything about this?" Tamblin tossed a
hand-drawn picture through the bars of Rath's cell.