Oracle (Book 5) (15 page)

It was also built like a fortress.

Joseph counted the doors as he walked, glancing at each one in turn.

Most looked to be patient rooms. Or
residents
, or whatever else in Zanthora they were called. One looked to be a storage closet of some kind. Halfway down the hall was a laundry chute.

Talin’s Ashes
. Joseph hoped by everything holy that it wouldn’t come to
that
.

But there was nothing else. Just the long, dusty halls, the doors to patient rooms that looked like they could withstand a battering ram, and—

And another door. On the left, different than the rest. Locked tight, and solid like the others, but with a different configuration.

Joseph glanced to the windows. Through the gaps in the heavy, red curtains, he could just make out what was outside.

There was a broad stone balcony on the back of the manor house. It was wide, with a railing running around it and a beautiful view of the wide lawn and woods behind the building. No doubt in happier times the porch had hosted noblemen and women taking breakfast to the sound of twittering birds and the golden glow of a rising sun. Now the stone outside was dirty from disuse, and wet from the slushy rain.

Joseph turned his head back around.

The door to Kara’s room was just ahead.

Iola turned around. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Maklavir. Really, I am.”

“It’s all right, Iola,” Maklavir soothed. “You’ve always been good to Kara.”

The little nurse looked as if she would burst out into tears again, but restrained herself with great effort. “Here,” she said at last. “I’ll check inside. Kara might be awake, the poor dear.”

Joseph glanced back down the hallway.

As Iola disappeared into Kara’s room with the candle she held, the gloom and darkness in the hallway became palpable. The Sanitarium was far enough out of the city proper that the steam system that operated the remarkable glow-globes of Vorten didn’t extend to the grounds. With the odd sounds that echoed down the hall every few seconds, the darkness was doubly unsettling.

Joseph could practically feel the fear emanating from the gendarmes behind them. They scratched their faces, rubbed their beards, and looked nervously about them, as if expecting all the demons of the Void to come pouring out of the doors of the hall at any moment.

Iola reappeared. She looked somewhat startled. “She’s awake, Mr. Maklavir. She was even before I came in—”

Joseph didn’t wait for anything else. He pushed past the nurse.

Kara sat in the middle of her bed. She wore the plain dress that the Sanitarium supplied to its female occupants.

For a moment Joseph was taken aback. This was not what he had expected.

“We’re leaving, aren’t we?” Kara’s voice was thin and small, like a fragile reed. “Leaving, leaving.” She closed her eyes, but her face was calm. “A ladder of green, a swan in ice. Horses, horses in the night.” She opened her eyes, but still didn’t look at Joseph. “Follow the stones, the stones of white.”

Joseph stared at the woman he had come to love. It felt as if his heart would burst. All the grief and sorrow that had weighed on him since the firestorm in Vorten came crushing back on him again.

Maklavir came up beside Joseph. He cleared his throat. “Well, she’s certainly awake. Dressed, too.” He looked at the redheaded girl. “Kara, can you hear us? We’ve…come to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye, goodbye,” Kara whispered. She stared at the corner of the wall. “We’re all leaving. Soon, soon. Ladder of green. Swan in ice.”

Joseph swallowed. He could feel goosebumps on his arms.

Iola stepped up next to the bed. The soft golden glow of the candle flickered off the bedroom walls.

“Fangs,” Kara said to no one in particular. “Fangs, fangs in the east.”

Maklavir lowered his head.

Joseph glanced behind him.

The doorway to the room was dark. The gendarmes lounged about just outside. As frightening as the hallway was, they apparently preferred it to being close to Kara’s soft chanting.

Joseph looked hard at Kara. The woman he loved. Gone forever.

“Horses, horses in the night,” Kara said in her sing-song tone. “Follow, follow the stones of white.”

Maklavir turned for the door. “This is pointless,” he said. There was a heaviness in his voice that Joseph wasn’t used to hearing. “I don’t know why we even came.”

Joseph grabbed Maklavir by the arm, squeezing hard.

Surprised, the diplomat looked over at his friend.

“Listen to me,” Joseph said. His voice was the faintest whisper. He motioned with his eyes to the hallway behind him. “Kara needs help, not a dungeon. I’m getting her out of here. Now.”

Maklavir stared at his friend, uncomprehending for a moment.

Iola looked up with a start.

Kara smiled. “Leaving, leaving,” she said.

“Are you with me?” Joseph hissed. He squeezed harder. “
Maklavir
?”

Maklavir swallowed hard. For a moment he didn’t say anything.

Joseph could see a flash of pain in his friend’s eyes. It was only then that he realized what he was asking of the man.

“I’ll lose everything,” Maklavir said quietly. “My house. My reputation. Any chance of getting back into the King’s good graces.”

“I—” The words died on Joseph’s tongue.

“Oh don’t be a bloody fool,” Maklavir said sharply. “Of course I’ll help you.”

Kara got up from the bed. She still didn’t make eye contact with either of the men.
“Leaving, leaving.”

“I don’t think those gendarmes will just let us walk out,” Maklavir said, still keeping his voice down.

Joseph nodded. “I’ll deal with the gendarmes. You take care of Kara.” He turned for the door without waiting for an answer.

The two gendarmes straightened as Joseph walked out into the hall. They looked at him.

“Gentlemen,” Joseph began. He didn’t quite know what to say. He felt calm, and sure of himself, more sure than he had felt in a long while, but the words still tripped on his tongue.

There was no going back after this. He couldn’t let them take Kara away to rot in some dungeon. He
wouldn’t
.

He owed her that much.

One of the gendarmes, the one called Yuri, gave a quizzical raise of his eyebrows. “Sir?”

Joseph sighed. “We’re leaving. With Kara. I know you both have your orders, but I’m asking you to do the decent thing and let us go. We won’t cause any trouble.” He raised a hand. “Look, I’m a soldier, just like you. I’ve fought and bled against the Kalinglanders and Baderans over the last few weeks here. I’ve given everything I have for Valmingaard, and for Vorten. But I can’t stand by and watch this girl get locked up because of some nobleman’s irrational fear.”

The gendarmes didn’t move. They stood as still as statues.

Maklavir and Kara appeared at the door to her bedroom.

“Ladder of green,” Kara murmured. Her eyes were fixed on something only she could see.

Joseph spread his hands. He gave his best smile. “Please. Ten minutes. That’s all we need. Then you can tell Potemkin. I’m asking you as one soldier to another.”

For a moment there was a tense silence in the dark hall. The gendarmes stared at Joseph. No one moved.

Then, as one man, they reached for their carbines.

Chapter 9

“Hmm.” Kendril bent down next to the pile of ashes. He fingered some of the residue with his gloved hand. The flakes of gray stood out against his black gauntlet. “Seems fresh.”

Marley stood a respectful distance away, his shoulders huddled against the brisk wind. He clutched a musket in his hands, and kept casting nervous glances at the tall standing stones that stood in a ragged circle around the overgrown hill top.

Kendril stood and wiped his hand on his trousers. “Keep an eye out, Marley.”

The sailor shivered, the wind tearing at his clothes. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Kendril, but we shouldn’t be here.” He looked over at one of the tall menhirs that stood just a few feet away from him. “This is cursed ground, it is. Old, and evil.” He made the sign against evil across his chest.

Kendril gave a heavy sigh. He stepped over to a large stone set in the ground, and examined the burnt remains on top of it.

Tomas came out from behind one of the stones, as softly and silently as an evening shadow. “There’s no sign of whoever was here,” he said in a hushed voice. “At least not that I can see.” He eyed the remains of the sacrifice. “How old, do you think?”

Kendril made a face. He tossed a greasy bone he had been inspecting down onto the ground. “Hard to tell. A day, maybe two. I’m no ranger.”

Tomas grunted. He gave the pile of ash a nudge with his foot.

Kendril turned, looking at the twisted path that led up the hill. Past the stunted and wind-bent trees he could glimpse the long gray band of the ocean.

He needed
Joseph
. The pathfinder could have examined the ground around the standing stones and told in a heartbeat how many people had been here, how long ago, and which direction they had gone afterwards.

But there was no use wishing for that. Joseph had been a man broken by anger and grief the last time Kendril had seen him.

In truth, he doubted he would ever see his old friend again.

“How did you know Bronwyn came here?” Tomas put a gloved hand against the mossy side of one of the stones. “How did you even know this place was here at all?”

“The robe,” Kendril said. He put one hand on the handle of his pistol as he looked around. “She was wearing black with a white hood. That’s a witch’s ceremonial outfit.” He glanced over at Tomas. “Of course, I still don’t know for sure that she was here at all. But it’s a good guess.”

Tomas gave Kendril a sharp look. “You must know this place pretty well, then. These standing stones are a good day’s travel from Redemption, and not visible from the ocean.”

Kendril shrugged. “Not my first time to Jothland.”

“Yeah,” Tomas said blandly, “I gathered that.” He rolled his shoulders back against the cutting wind, and looked out towards the sea. “So what now? There’s no sign of Bronwyn here.”

Kendril knelt down and rubbed a patch of grass with his hand. It was dark, stained with something. He frowned. “I don’t know.”

Marley peered around the stone, deliberately avoiding stepping into the circle. “Is that…that a
human
?”

Tomas smiled and shook his head. “It’s a goat, you old fool. They burned it on the altar.”

Kendril picked up something out of a patch of weeds. It glinted dully in the watery sunlight.

Tomas raised an eyebrow. “What did you find?”

Kendril stood, brushing the dirt of his trousers. “Take a look.” He tossed the small object to the other Ghostwalker.

Tomas caught it and turned it over in his hand. “Looks like a bronze band…shaped like some kind of an animal. A fox, maybe? Dog?” He squinted.

Kendril looked out towards the ocean, deep in thought. “Wolf.”

Tomas lowered his hand. “You know something? I hate being left in the dark.”

Kendril bit his lip, thinking for a minute. “The craftsmanship. I recognize it. It’s Jombard.”

Tomas shuddered as a fresh gust of cold wind assaulted the hillside and whistled between the stones. “Jombard? Who are those, the local pagans?”

Kendril nodded. His eyes were still scanning the ocean. “Warriors who worship the Seteru. They mainly live in scattered tribes east of the Wall. Usually they’re too busy fighting each other to pose much threat to Redemption, but occasionally a war chief bands them together for a large raid.”

Tomas stepped over towards Kendril. He was careful to walk around the ash. “I didn’t know you were such an expert in the anthropology of the region.”

Kendril ignored the comment. “It’s a clue. Maybe the only one we’ll get.”

“But it doesn’t tell us anything.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Kendril stepped quickly towards where Marley and Simon stood just outside the ring of stones. “But if there are Jombards here, even a few of them, there’s only so many places where they could be hiding.”

“You think Bronwyn’s with them?”

Kendril paused by one of the tall stones. He glanced behind him. “I don’t know. It’s possible. If she had come back to town, I think we would have—”

A woman stood near the stone altar, her back to them. Long chestnut hair flowed down past her shoulders, hiding her face.

Startled, Kendril whipped out his pistol and snapped back the lock.

Simon gave a snort and reared back.

Tomas whirled instantly. His dagger flashed out into his hand.

Kendril stared, lowering his pistol. He blinked hard, rubbing a gloved hand across his eyes.

Nothing. There was nothing there.

Tomas gave him a confused glance. “What did you see?”

“No one,” Kendril said, a little too quickly. He shook his head and lowered his pistol even more. “Nothing,” he corrected, “just my mind playing tricks on me.”

Tomas narrowed his eyes. “That happen to you a lot?”

“I said it was nothing.” Kendril stuck the pistol back into its holster. “Not enough sleep.”

Marley glanced fearfully around the stone circle. The old musket shook slightly as he held it. “You’re absolutely sure, Mr. Kendril? There ain’t an ambush of some kind, some of them Jombards of yours sneaking around in the bushes?”

“I’m sure.” Kendril stepped up and gave Simon a reassuring pat.

The beast gave a fierce snort and pushed his snout into Kendril’s chest.

“Whoa, boy.” Kendril rubbed the animal’s neck. Something had spooked the mule, too.

“Look,” said Tomas as he re-sheathed his dagger, “I get that your past is your own. I’ve got my own issues, believe me. But I’m not an idiot. You’ve spent time here in Jothland, that much is clear. I’m guessing
before
you became a Ghostwalker.”

Kendril glowered, but said nothing.

Tomas stepped between two menhirs, his cape fluttering in the steady wind. “What I can’t have is you suffering some sort of nervous breakdown while we’re tracking down this witch. So if you need to sit this one out, this is the time to say so.”