Rift (19 page)

“How can that be?” Ember asked breathlessly.

Barrow shifted the sword at his waist and coughed.

Morag glanced at him. “Your companion is eager to train you. And here I’ll agree that you must see the magic at work to truly understand it.”

Barrow bowed deeply to Morag. “We are, as ever, indebted to your skill.”

The blacksmith inclined her head.

“Thank you,” Ember said as she returned the first wheel to its slipcover and discovered that the two cases were designed to hook onto her belt. With the weapons hanging comfortably at her side, she hurried to catch Barrow, who had already made his way back to the courtyard.

Her irritation bubbled over when she fell in step beside him. “What did she mean?”

Barrow didn’t answer, only walked more quickly in the direction of the practice fields.

“When will I see this wonder?” Ember asked. “Will I travel to the Orient?”

He stopped, returning her hard gaze without flinching. He didn’t speak, and a moment later it was Ember who pulled her eyes away.

“You are one of us,” Barrow said quietly. “But you are here to learn, not trot off to sate your appetite for travel. And I am to teach you. Trust that I will meet that task.”

Ember kept her head bowed, following when Barrow continued on his path. But after a few steps she came to a halting stop. She couldn’t be certain if it was shock or outrage traveling over Barrow’s face when he realized she wasn’t following and wheeled around.

“I am here to serve.” She forced herself to speak calmly. “But not to be led around because my own ignorance blinds me. You are my teacher. You’ve just said this yourself. Give me the knowledge I seek.”

His brow furrowed as he walked slowly toward her. He looked her up and down.

“Have I truly angered you this much?”

Ember frowned, thinking her words hadn’t been that harsh. Then she noticed him looking at her hands. Unbeknownst even to her, they’d clenched into tight fists at her sides, bloodless and shaking. It took a surprising amount of will for her to pry her own fingers free of their furious pose. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I—” She didn’t want to look at Barrow. This outburst had nothing to do with him or her impatience with her schooling in the ways of the Guard. Tears that had begun to burn beneath her eyelids made her squeeze them closed so none could escape.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Barrow murmured. “If you have questions, I’ll hear them. My desire was only not to delay your training. You’ll need your weapon sooner than you might think.”

Ember hoped that her tears were gone when she forced her eyes open. She was about to apologize when Barrow turned away from her, waving for her to follow him. He swung around, no longer heading toward the practice field but instead toward the stable. Her spirit surged at the possibility of another outing with Caber, but she kept silent, regretful of her rash words. Barrow had done nothing to deserve her childish temper. She was lucky he’d taken her disrespectful tone in stride. Part of her wondered why he hadn’t simply sent her back to the barracks with some punishment to carry out—like scrubbing the floors or, worse, emptying all the chamber pots.

Instead of punishment Ember received what felt like a reward for her complaints. Barrow seemed thoughtful, his only words to her when they reached the stable: “Ready your mount.”

Caber snorted and immediately began banging his hooves against the stall when he saw Ember approaching. She fondly patted his soft nose, laughing when he tried once again to chew on the ring of braids that crowned her head.

When she led the horse from the stable, fully tacked and ready for the ride, Barrow was waiting with Toshach. He remained silent as he swung into the saddle, leaving Ember to guess that she was expected to do the same. Toshach was already heading for the gates at a fast clip when Ember mounted Caber. The young stallion tossed his head, impatient to follow.

Barrow didn’t look back to see if she had managed to get herself into the saddle. Ember hadn’t quite caught him when he passed through the gate, Toshach’s pace steadily increasing. When he hit the valley floor and Toshach broke into a gallop, Ember began to wonder if this ride wasn’t intended as some kind of punishment after all, one in which Barrow would force her to ride hard without any aid should she lose control of Caber. She leaned forward, letting Caber leap into a flat run. He stretched out, flowing over the ground like a gale in pursuit of Toshach.

The path Barrow took led in the opposite direction from their previous day’s ride. Toshach tore through the glen. Soon Tearmunn was a speck and Loch Duich a shadow in the distance. They rode east for an hour. The clouds had broken through the night and sunlight filled the glen with the impish gleam of spring. Ember found the pace exhilarating, smiling as the sun warmed her back and the wind pulled strands of hair free of the braid to tickle her cheeks. Caber reveled in their speed as well, giving a whinny of triumph when he finally caught Toshach. Barrow still didn’t look over his shoulder, but the slight tilt of his head made Ember smile, knowing he was fully aware of her approach.

Toshach began to slow, first to a canter and then to a trot as Barrow turned his mount south. With the horses blowing hard, they began to climb the hillside, leaving the open valley for the cover of trees. Though Ember couldn’t make out any path, Barrow kept Toshach moving forward. They wove through the dense pines, their path twisting but leading steadily upward. Sunlight battled the trees’ heavy shadows, its golden blades periodically splitting the darkness to mark their progress.

Now that her attention wasn’t captivated by the thrill of Caber’s strength and speed, Ember found herself waiting for some acknowledgment from Barrow. The forest around them was unnervingly quiet. The pine trees surrounding them rose straight and solemn like pillars of a temple. Her own breath seemed blasphemously loud.

Ember was chewing on her lip, fighting the impulse to speak and quell her anxiety, when a new sound drew her attention. At first she thought it was wind rustling through the trees. But the sound was steadier than the rise and fall of fickle spring gusts. And it was growing louder. Her head cocked to the side, Ember concentrated on the noise, trying to discern its source.

Barrow reined in Toshach and dismounted. He turned to look at her for the first time since they’d left Tearmunn.

“We’ll leave the horses here,” he said. “Don’t worry. Toshach knows this place well. They won’t wander.”

He gave no further explanation but watched her, waiting. Ember slid out of the saddle. She murmured her thanks to Caber, taking a moment to stroke his bowed neck and convey her reluctance to part from him.

During the ride Ember had forgotten the new additions to her wardrobe, but now that she was walking, the wheels beat rhythmically against her hips. Their presence was oddly comforting, since she still had no idea how to wield them. As she followed Barrow up a gentle rise, the persistent sound grew in intensity to a quiet roar. Ember had guessed what the cause of the rushing noise was by the time the waterfall came into view, but she wasn’t prepared for the sight that met her eyes.

Her breath caught at the web of white water that cut through stone. The stream didn’t throw itself from a sheer precipice to strike a pool far below. Instead the water had wound its way between ancient rock, splitting into three rivulets and glistening like enormous threads of spider silk.

Barrow carefully made his way between the jutting rocks, descending until he reached the place where the falls settled into a narrow stream that wound its way toward the glen’s floor. He paused at the edge of the brook and then beckoned for Ember to join him. It only took a few steps for her to understand why he’d taken so much time in the descent. Though the drop wasn’t steep, the stones beneath her feet were slick, waiting for an opportunity to catch her off guard and turn her ankle.

When she reached Barrow’s side at the bottom of the falls, she asked, “Why have you brought me here?”

“You were distracted this morning, and angry,” he told her. “That’s not an ideal disposition to bring into your first bout of training.”

Ember looked away; even the mention of her irritability made it roll beneath her skin.

“In the Guard you’ll see things more terrible than any man or woman should witness,” Barrow said. “It can lead to distraction . . . and despair.”

He was speaking softly and with kindness. A child forced to hew off his own fingers. The kelpie’s claws dripping slime as they shredded Barrow’s tabard, seeking flesh. Barrow thought her erratic mood was a result of the fight . . . of fear and uncertainty. She almost laughed. That she’d fought that creature and won was one of the only things sustaining her sense of place. Her heart was the beast she couldn’t tame.

Barrow crouched, laying his palm on the water’s surface. “It helps if you can find a place that brings you peace. Make it your own, share it with no one. Go there when you need solace. If you can’t fight the demons that seek to conquer your spirit, you will not survive among us.”

“Share it with no one?” Ember asked with a sidelong glance.

“Being that I’m your teacher, I’ve made an exception.” Barrow looked up at her. “You’ll need time to become familiar with the valley. I found this place many years ago, shortly after I joined the Guard. This slope, this brook—they’re almost as helpful a friend as Toshach. You’re welcome to come here until you find such a place of your own.”

Ember tilted her head, regarding him curiously. “I had a place like this at home. Somewhere I could hide from the world . . . though it was mostly to hide from my father.”

“I don’t blame you for that.” He smiled. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t reveal it to any others in the Guard.”

She did laugh then. “Of course not. I’m honored that you’ve brought me here.”

Spotting a thick, fallen tree, Ember climbed up on it and let her legs dangle.

“Ember, I want you to know that among the Guard you have friends,” Barrow said, his eyes back on the water. “Our lives are hard and we may seem equally hard as people. But we live and die for one another. We are more closely bonded than any others . . . at least that’s what I’ve found.”

Ember sat quietly. When Barrow spoke of the Guard, it was with quiet intensity. A question stirred within her, but it was one she was afraid to ask.

They find lovers where they will and when they will.

What did Barrow mean when he invoked the bonds of the Guard?

She had to know if Alistair had handed her lies in the hopes that he’d sway her.

“Barrow—” The thickness in her throat made her voice crack. Barrow looked at her, his brows raised in surprise.

“The Guard . . .” She dropped her gaze to the forest floor, not wanting to meet Barrow’s eyes when she put this question to him. “Are they truly chaste?”

For the longest moments Ember thought she’d ever experienced, the only answer that came was the babble of the brook as it made its way along the hillside. Then Barrow began to laugh.

FOURTEEN

EMBER JUMPED DOWN
from the log and, squaring off with Barrow, folded her arms across her chest. He was still laughing as she glared at him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Barrow shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Ember.” He drew a shaking breath and managed to quell his mirth. “It’s just that when you started to speak, I thought you were about to confess something horrible to me. Your face had no color whatsoever.”

“You think my question was funny?” Ember snapped. “Excuse me for taking the vows I spoke with some level of solemnity.”

A smile hopped on and off Barrow’s mouth, but he managed to keep from laughing again. “Of course, you’re right. You surprised me, that’s all.”

Despite her flare of anger, Ember remained desperate for an answer. “Well?”

“Well what?” Barrow didn’t bother to fight off his smile this time.

Ember stamped her foot and then cursed herself for stamping her foot because it made Barrow chuckle.

“You know what!” she blurted.

His smile faded. “Why are you asking this?”

“I heard rumors,” she said lamely. “I only want to know if they are true.”

“You should be wary of rumors. Particularly those regarding who’s been visiting whose bed.” His eyes grew distant and lost the spark of laughter. “But the answer to your question is: sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Beneath her arms, Ember felt her heartbeat speeding up though she couldn’t pinpoint the source of her nerves.

Barrow shrugged. “It’s a matter of choice. The only true restriction on one’s personal relationships is that they may not interfere with our service to the Guard. And love is an interfering thing by its nature, so some of us choose to avoid its entanglements altogether.”

“Is it really that simple?” Ember asked, frowning.

“We study the ways of this world’s finest warriors so that we may enhance our own skills. Our models are those we find in history, not the dictates of the Church,” Barrow said.

“History?”

“Think of the champions of Sparta,” he answered.