The Law of Isolation (47 page)

“What have you done?” The man tried again to move, but his face twisted into a grimace and he lay still.

“Buttons broke the bones in your arms and legs. We couldn’t risk you harming Josiah or Kevessa. The other wizards will heal you when they arrive.”

The man stared at her. “No,” he whispered. His voice rose to a shriek. “No!” He thrashed, managed to heave his body upright for an instant, and then toppled. Reflexively, he put out an arm to catch himself. He screamed, the sound tearing from his throat, and collapsed into a huddle, his cries subsiding to muffled whimpers.

Josiah stared at him in horror, twisting the cloth in his hands. The man was no longer a threat. He gulped and turned around, dreading what he knew he must find.

Kevessa eased Master Dabiel down from where she lay sprawled across Buttons. The Guildmaster curled around her wound and let her head rest in Kevessa’s lap. Josiah dropped to his knees beside them. He reached toward Dabiel, but let his hand fall, miserably helpless without Sar beside him.

Kevessa wiped a smear of Buttons’ blood off Dabiel’s cheek. “Shh. Rest. The other wizards will be here soon.”

Energy surged through Josiah. “I’ll get them. They can’t be far.” He scrambled to his feet, calculating distances and times against the spreading pool of blood beneath the Guildmaster.

He glanced over his shoulder at the motionless attacker. The man lifted his head. He met Josiah’s eyes with an expression of pure loathing. Josiah shuddered and turned back to Kevessa. “Maybe you should come with me.”

Kevessa shot the man a glance, then jerked her gaze back to Josiah. Her shoulders trembled, but she shook her head. “We can’t leave her alone. You go. I’ll be fine.” She gulped. “But, please, hurry.” She bent over Dabiel, stroking her hair, lips moving in indistinct soothing murmurs.

Josiah hesitated a moment more, his stomach twisting, but finally tore himself away. The attacker couldn’t harm Kevessa. Master Dabiel and Buttons had made sure of that.

He ran through the silent woods, down the path toward Elathir. His feet thudded, his heart pounded, and his breath rasped in his ears. He couldn’t think about what had just happened, or it would overwhelm him. He forced himself to concentrate on the immediate need—to run as fast and as far as he could, until he found the help that waited ahead, so close, yet much too far.

He hadn’t encountered anyone when a trace thought tickled the edge of his mind, warm and sun-drenched and content. He threw all the force of his grief and fear into his call.
Sar!

His familiar’s presence was faint, but he responded immediately.
Josiah? What’s wrong?

Josiah poured out a confused stream of thoughts and images, never slowing his headlong rush. Sar sent him a flashing image. The donkey unlatched the meadow gate and galloped to meet his bondmate. Josiah nearly sobbed in relief.

Before Sar could reach him, he glimpsed a knot of people and animals far down the road. “Elkan!” he shouted, redoubling his pace.

A tawny form sprang from the group and bounded toward him. Josiah stumbled to a halt and threw his arms around the mountain cat as she reared and pawed his shoulders in cheerful greeting. “Tobi… tell Elkan… it’s Master Dabiel… she’s been attacked. He’s got to hurry, it’s bad, Buttons is dead—”

The cat sobered instantly, staring at him as he gasped out more garbled bits of what had happened. Far down the road, there was a sudden stir among the group of people. Several figures broke into a run. Josiah forced his feet back into motion, Tobi loping beside him.

Elkan outdistanced the others. Josiah started yelling as soon as he thought his master could hear. “She’s hurt. Please hurry, you’ve got to help her—”

Elkan grabbed Josiah’s shoulders. “Where’s Sar?”

“He’s coming, he was grazing, I couldn’t heal her without him—”

“She’s at the chapel?”

“Yes.”

Elkan’s head jerked in a quick nod. His fingers tightened briefly on Josiah’s shoulders before he released him and set off again, Tobi racing ahead.

Josiah braced his hands on his thighs and panted. As the other wizards reached him, he repeated his message over and over. Most of them only gaped at him for a moment before rushing on toward the chapel. For the most part they were the older wizards of the Hall, who despite their general good health and fitness were slowed to various extents by age. Josiah knew they’d reach the chapel long after Elkan had arrived and done whatever could be done, but he urged them on anyway.

Master Hanion didn’t follow the others. He put his hands on his hips and glared at Josiah, Mavke beside him matching his expression. “What were you doing at the chapel?”

Josiah flushed and looked at his feet. It wasn’t as if he could keep his and Kevessa’s role a secret. Every moment of the disaster would be examined over and over again through windows. “Kevessa wanted to see the Mother, so she could tell her father she’s real.” He forced his chin up and met Master Hanion’s eyes. “I was helping her. If we hadn’t been there—” He faltered. Had they changed anything by their presence? Buttons was still dead, and Master Dabiel…

Hanion scowled. “Who was the assassin? One of the Mother-forsaken foreigners?”

“I don’t know.” Now that he thought about it, Josiah thought Kevessa had recognized the man. She’d said a name, though Josiah couldn’t remember what it was. “I guess it would have to be.”

“I knew no good could come of this! I told Dabiel not to bargain with them. She should never have let them dock.” He leaned close to Josiah, hot breath in his face. “You said Buttons is dead. What happened?”

“He burned himself out. He was dying, the man stabbed him. He was going to kill me, but Buttons stopped him.” Somehow Josiah couldn’t find the words to describe exactly what Buttons had done. He felt dizzy, and there was a rushing sound in his ears.

A gentle arm went around his shoulders and helped ease him to the ground. Someone put a flask in his hands. He gulped the water thankfully. Gradually his head cleared, and he heard Master Hadara berating Master Hanion. “Leave the boy alone. Can’t you see he’s exhausted? Go see for yourself what happened. We’ll get Josiah’s version soon enough.”

Master Hanion grumbled, but Master Hadara was insistent. Josiah put his head on his knees and ignored them, breathing deeply, trying to slow his pounding heart.

Before he could recover completely, the sound of clattering hooves jerked him to attention. He jumped up and threw his arms around Sar. The donkey was sweaty and dusty, but his warm touch had never felt so good. Josiah never again wanted to be farther than an arm’s reach away from his familiar.

He swung onto Sar’s back, ignoring Master Hadara’s protests.
Take me to the chapel, please? I have to see…

Sar didn’t reply, only set off at a rapid trot.

They passed a few of the other wizards on the road, but when they arrived at the chapel many of them were already there, standing around talking to each other in agitated voices. Dozens of windows shone above outstretched hands, playing back various portions of the struggle while wizards watched, gasping or sobbing or complaining loudly that they still didn’t understand.

Josiah slid from Sar’s back and pushed through the crowd to the chapel door. The donkey pressed close to his heels. He paused on the threshold, steeling himself against what lay within. Taking a deep breath, he entered.

Two still forms lay in the middle of the room, one large, one small, shrouded with brown plaid wizard’s cloaks. A bright square of sun fell through the far window and bathed them in golden light. Josiah stared at them, not wanting to believe what he saw.

Kevessa rose from where she sat beside the bodies and laid a hand on his arm. Her eyes were red. “I’m sorry.”

Josiah nodded, blinking fiercely. He put his arms around Sar’s neck and buried his face in the donkey’s fur, breathing in his earthy animal scent. His familiar didn’t say anything, just flooded his mind with affection.

After a moment Josiah straightened. He turned his attention to the corner of the room. A cluster of wizards and familiars huddled around a supine form, the gold light of the Mother’s power radiating from their hands to bathe each of his limbs.

Elkan and Tobi were working on the assassin’s right arm. Josiah stole over quietly and stood behind them. He could hardly bear to look at the man’s face. It rested in peaceful repose, slack with the unconsciousness imposed by the wizard kneeling at his head.

Josiah didn’t think he’d made any noise, but one of Tobi’s ears flicked toward him. Elkan didn’t look up, but he sighed. “Todira, could you and Night take over here, or would that be too much of a strain on top of keeping him under? I can send someone else to help in a moment. But we can’t risk letting him wake up until we’re ready, especially once these bones have knitted.”

Todira scooted toward him, the owl on her shoulder flapping briefly to regain his balance, and moved one hand from the man’s forehead to hover over the spot, midway between his shoulder and elbow, where Elkan had been concentrating his effort. “We’ll be fine.”

“We can help,” Josiah blurted. Part of him wanted very much to leave the assassin lying broken and helpless, at least for a while. But obviously that wasn’t going to happen, and working on something useful would be preferable to standing around answering questions.

But Elkan shook his head as he sat back on his heels, the golden light dying from his hands. He rubbed his forehead and fondled Tobi’s ears. “I need to speak with you.”

Josiah gulped. Elkan’s voice wasn’t angry, just slow and heavy and weary, but somehow that was even worse. “Yes, master.”

Kevessa stepped to his side. “Master Elkan, Josiah was only here because I insisted he come. I beg you, please don’t blame him for my actions. Any fault was mine alone.”

Elkan climbed to his feet, regarding them both. For an instant rueful annoyance lightened his face, but it fell quickly back into tired lines. “Neither of you are in trouble. I just need to understand exactly what happened. Come with me. We can go over the whole thing from the beginning.”

Josiah trailed behind Elkan out of the chapel. Sar plodded beside him and Kevessa followed. Elkan looked around, then headed toward a middle-aged man with a dove on his shoulder, laying a hand on his arm. “Vethon, would you and Cloud help with the prisoner? I’m going to be busy for a few minutes.”

Vethon nodded. “Of course.” He paused, giving Elkan an odd look. “Have you had a chance to watch, yet?”

“No. That’s what I’m going to do now.”

“Good.” For a moment Vethon hesitated, as if he might say something more. Finally he clasped Elkan’s hand, squeezed it, and hurried away.

What was that about? Josiah stuck close to Elkan’s heels as he threaded his way through the crowd. The other masters were all shooting Elkan the same sort of strange covert glances.

His master headed for the edge of the clearing. Kevessa broke away and darted toward the tree she and Josiah had climbed. Elkan frowned at her, but followed.

Kevessa fell to her knees by the window-glass case. Jagged rips marred its leather surface, and one hinge came loose as she lifted the lid with trembling hands. But the two cylinders within were undamaged, the fragile circles of glass unbroken.

Kevessa nestled them back into the velvet with a breath that was almost a sob. “Thank the Mother. Father would have been furious if I’d broken it. I dropped it halfway down.”

Elkan’s brows drew together as he looked at the device. He sank down to sit cross-legged on the thick blanket of pine needles. Tobi flopped beside him and laid her head in his lap. He gestured for Kevessa and Josiah to sit also. Sar took his place behind Josiah, breath hot on the back of Josiah’s neck as he gazed at Elkan.

“Tell me everything you did and saw. Start from when you first decided to come out here today. I want the full truth.” He fixed Josiah with a pointed stare and put his hand out. A golden spark bloomed over his hand and grew into a sphere.

Josiah took a deep breath and poured out the story, holding nothing back. Kevessa jumped in with comments from time to time. When he reached the part where they’d arrived in the clearing, the window cleared and focused, showing events as Josiah narrated them.

When he described Kevessa’s first glimpse of the opening door, Elkan glanced at Tobi. The window swooped away from Josiah and Kevessa in the tree to show the chapel door as the assassin silently eased it open. Josiah caught his breath and clenched his fists. The window ran rapidly backwards through time, showing the man’s stealthy approach through the woods, following him back about a mile until it dissolved into crackling golden sparks at the edge of its range.

“We can trace him back where he came from later,” Elkan said. Tobi sent the window zipping forward in time again. “We’ll be able to learn his identity.”

Kevessa cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Master Elkan, but I recognize him. His name is Tharan, and he’s my father’s aide.” She faltered. “I came to know him well during the voyage. I never would have thought… He seemed like a good man, quiet, helpful, attentive to detail. Father liked him, although I don’t think he trusted him completely. But he didn’t trust anyone on the ship completely. He was so afraid the Purifiers had placed a spy aboard.”

Elkan nodded slowly, staring into the distance as he took in this information. When Kevessa trailed off, it took him a moment to refocus his eyes and pat her hand reassuringly. “Go on, Josiah.”

The window showed the assassin sidle up behind the oblivious pair. As Josiah’s shout echoed through the window, Buttons jerked his head up. Master Dabiel leaped to her feet and turned. The assassin’s blade, which had been poised to plunge into her back as she knelt, struck her in the stomach instead. The assassin wrenched it free and grabbed her as she cried out and groped for Buttons. He flung her across the room barely in time to turn and face the furious pig who hurtled at him, squealing.

Josiah swallowed and turned away. “You can see the rest for yourself.”

Elkan nodded and bent over the window. He was silent as he watched, sitting very still and never taking his eyes away from the flickering sphere. Josiah shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears. Maybe if he’d done something different, Master Dabiel and Buttons would still be alive. He could have gotten there faster, tied the man’s bonds tighter, fought harder… But he’d done the best he could. How could he do any better, even if he could really relive it? Not just witness actions frozen unchangeable in the past…