A Stone's Throw, page 26
part #2 of The Petralist Series
“Study, of course.” Ailsa took her hands. “I lack the time to search these books myself, but you must do it.”
“You think I can learn the truth about patronage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping.” Ailsa gestured at the surrounding books. “This is where the deeper secrets are kept. Those pearls are what you seek, hidden here among the chaff of historical texts, philosophical treatises, international contracts, and noble family bloodlines, among other things. Here is our best hope of finding the truth about patronage, how it works, why Grandurians don’t need it, and how the unclaimed are transformed into raging monsters.”
“That’s what Connor needs,” Jean agreed. “Only then can he escape Shona’s plans.”
“More than that,” Ailsa said. “I hope to help him stand free, not forced to bow to any faction until he understands their full purposes. Then, and only then, I would have him set his loyalties and pledge his allegiance.”
“Do you really think we’ll find what we seek?” Jean asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” Ailsa looked grave. “But I am determined to do everything in my power to try.”
Jean surveyed the inner library with renewed determination. “I’ll find answers for you.”
Ailsa patted Jean’s cheek. “I knew I could count on you. Remember the lessons you learned from your grandmother. Look deep, see clear. Lady Shona and Ilse represent only two factions. Everything’s tied to the game, and this year’s game will prove more interesting and more deadly than any other.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Connor is here.”
It made sense. Jean had already caught glimpses of games within games from her short time at the Carraig. Forces were gathering around Connor, and they would not relent. “How do you know my grandmother?”
“We can discuss that later. Right now you have much work to do.” She pointed out a large, ornamental day-clock on a distant shelf. “Be aware of the time and return the way we entered. Those secondary rooms at the main library are deserted by the dinner bell. Can you remain apart from Shona that long?”
Jean nodded. “She has a busy day today. I don’t think I’ll be missed.”
“Good luck.”
Ailsa slipped out the door, leaving her alone. How she planned to find her way out without the lantern, Jean didn’t know, but Ailsa hadn’t seemed worried, so Jean turned to survey the room.
Despite the danger, she found herself grinning as she began walking slowly around the room, trying to gain a sense for how the knowledge was organized. She only made it ten feet, randomly pulling tomes from the shelves to briefly thumb through them before she became engrossed in a historical text dedicated to medicinal herbs common one hundred years ago.
She didn’t slip back into the main library until well past dinner time, with two lingering thoughts from her first foray underground.
It was going to take months to study all of those books.
Connor didn’t have that much time.
Chapter 40
Connor left early for his extended rounds the next morning, dropping off new sandstone blocks to the Healers first. Aifric waved in greeting, but a couple of the other Healers didn’t look as happy to see him.
“Why’s everyone so glum this morning?” he asked Aifric as the teacher signed for the portions.
“We’re running a geall, betting how long before you get beat up again. Most of them bet you’d arrive today limping.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “Stay healthy, Connor. Every day you stay away, my position improves.”
“I thought you liked my visits,” he protested.
“Always. But I like seeing you healthy more.”
He waved to the other students on his way out. “See you in a few days.”
They glared. That posed a new potential problem. When he again needed their help, would they prefer breaking a few of his ribs to healing them?
Connor dropped off rounds with the various tertiary affinity classes. He longed to linger and try to overhear the lessons, but had to rush back to the Rhidorroch for the Boulder and Strider classes, which were all scheduled back-to-back through the rest of the morning.
While he jogged toward the walled enclosure, he re-lived the experience of running the shadowed course the night before. He planned to silently celebrate every time a student posted a worse time.
Then his good humor faded as he considered Jok. The Petralist was taking an active dislike to him. Jok still posed a threat to Jean’s safety, although her position working for Shona might offer some protection. Worse, Connor still hadn’t figured out how to win the pendant back from him. If Jok continued associating with Ivor, might the Dawnus catch a glimpse of it? If he touched it, no doubt he’d discover its secret.
Professor Greim’s class was scheduled to run the Rhidorroch first, but shortly before the first student entered the slide, students shifted to the outer wall, looking toward the castle, and a ripple of murmured excitement swept the class. Shona glanced back at Connor and motioned him to look, so he stepped behind a couple of the shorter students to see. He spotted a large company approaching from the west, moving in a tight formation and with military precision. They were clearly not students, and as they drew nearer he noted half a dozen Striders circling wide around the force in lazy-looking loops as they waited for their slower comrades. Hulking Boulders in thick plate armor with gigantic hammers and shields made up the bulk of the columns. In the lead, looking small and yet somehow deadlier when compared to the massive Boulders, came a company dressed in black battle leathers.
Fast Rollers. He knew the special-forces corps from Carbrey’s army all too well. In their center strode a thick-chested man whose craggy face Connor recognized despite the distance.
Captain Rory.
Connor stared, barely able to believe what he was seeing. Shona’s presence at the Carraig had come as a shock, but not really a surprise. Rory’s presence was almost as surprising as Ilse’s had been, and it presented an immediate threat. They would recognize him, might give him away before Shona was ready for the world to know him, so Connor drifted to the rear of the crowd of students.
He glanced toward Shona, who had pushed to the front of the class and stood at the top of the outer staircase, looking poised and calm. He caught no trace of surprise from her. She had expected Rory’s arrival.
Why Rory, and why now?
The company reached the Rhidorroch and halted in unison. Rory ascended the stairs, flanked by another pair of Fast Rollers Connor knew well. Tomas and Cameron had helped teach him about granite powers and battle strategy. They had allowed him to pass when he’d risked everything to rescue Verena. He slipped farther to one side, behind a couple of burly students who would better conceal him from view.
Under any other conditions he would have gladly rushed out to greet them. Despite the risk of their revealing him, their presence solved the issue of Shona’s security. Surely they would assign a protective detail to her after learning of the poisoning. Then again, it also complicated matters immensely. If they learned of Ilse’s presence, they’d hunt her down without mercy. While most of the Petralists at the Carraig were untested students, Rory and his army were battle-hardened veterans. No way Ilse and her tiny band could stand against them, particularly since they lacked Verena’s builded stones.
Time had felt short before, now it drained away like the sands of the timing clock. He needed to warn Ilse of the danger and beg her to leave, but he needed that letter, and the information from Kilian. Maybe he could convince her to return in the springtime?
That was as likely as Hamish voluntarily abstaining from food for an entire day.
The fact that Connor felt a bond of friendship to both Rory and Ilse complicated his life. It would be so much easier if he could hate the Grandurians, but he didn’t. He’d come to understand their position during the dark days of fighting around Alasdair, and he couldn’t condemn their actions. He respected Ilse and didn’t want to see harm come to her.
He also respected Captain Rory, and longed to greet him and his company as friends again. Would they still consider him friend if they knew how he felt about their enemies?
A new thought added to his worries. There was no way Shona could have summoned Rory after being poisoned. The trip from Merkland would take weeks. That meant she had arranged to bring him to the Carraig even before Ailsa received her summons to take up the post of resident sculptor. Why would High Lord Dougal send some of his best fighters from the front when war loomed large over the nation?
Was Rory come to protect Shona, or to deal with Connor if he didn’t play along in whatever plans Shona had for him?
Captain Rory stopped at attention in front of Lady Shona and snapped a smart salute.
“Captain,” she said with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Carraig.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Behind him, Tomas and Cameron stood at attention but still managed to look like they were slouching and about to burst out laughing at some private joke. Risking a look at them helped ease some of Connor’s tension. They were fiercely loyal to Rory, and he also counted them as friends.
Professor Greim shook Rory’s hand. “A pleasure, Captain. I’ve heard excellent reports about you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll send someone to lead you to the castle where the administrators can show you to your barracks and explain your duties.”
One of the students near Connor leaned closer to a companion. “That’s Captain Rory. Led the force that rescued Lady Shona from the Grandurians last year. They’re going to offer advanced training for the top standings and oversee the inter-class battles.”
That triggered a wave of excited whispers among the other students. Connor was wondering if he had read too much into Rory’s presence when Professor Greim spoke again.
“Where’s the linn, Connor? He can lead you there.”
Chapter 41
Verena chewed on her lip as she eased the final small thruster block into position on the rear of her personal flying transport. Hamish often teased her that she’d wear through her lips doing that, but he should worry more about their wager.
“Coming in!” Hamish bellowed as he entered the huge workroom where she was preparing for their afternoon aerial duel.
His ridiculous flying board was draped over one shoulder. She still couldn’t believe he’d insisted on pursuing that design instead of embracing her idea. He may have come up with the original idea of a smaller, more nimble flying craft, but their ideas of what that meant had turned out wildly different. So they’d agreed to each develop a prototype and prove which was better through a contest of arms.
“I’m not quite ready,” she protested. “The test isn’t scheduled to start for hours.” He’d been sneaking into her workroom to steal glimpses of her design. She’d chased him off enough times with thrown tools and spare stones that he’d taken to announcing his presence whenever the two met anywhere.
“The test will have to wait.” Kilian entered the workroom behind Hamish, followed by Dierk. A half-dozen soldiers followed, armed, armored, and carrying heavy packs, which they began loading into the windrider on the opposite side of the workroom, near the huge outer doors. “You and Hamish are coming with me to the border.”
“What’s wrong?” Verena stood and donned a light jacket to cover her work shirt, which most people found scandalously brief. They didn’t understand how much easier direct skin contact made her work.
“I don’t see why there’s such a rush,” Hamish complained, setting his board down carefully. He’d embedded quartzite thrusters along the bottom and outer edges. The design was simple and almost elegant, with all the thrusters controlled from veins of quartzite worked into the heavy bindings set across the board, where he’d secure his feet. “Can’t we at least wait until I win?”
“As if you would,” she retorted. That he still thought he had a chance was ridiculous, even for him.
“We leave immediately,” Kilian said. The worry lines had returned to his face. “I’ve received word.”
“Another patrol attacked?” Verena guessed.
“Almost,” he said. “They sighted something strange. The report describes it as a large, apelike beast that moved at nearly fracked speed, with exceptional jumping ability. The patrol couldn’t catch it.”
“What are apes?” Hamish asked.
“They’re like giant monkeys,” Verena explained.
He gave her a disgusted look. “You’re assuming I know what monkeys are.”
“We’ll explain once we’re airborne,” Kilian said. “The important thing is that I’ve never heard of anything like what they claimed to have seen. It appears Obrion may have trained some new element. With armies already massing on the borders, we can’t allow for any unknowns to roam the borderlands. I need you two with me down there. You’re my best inventors.”
Verena smiled at the compliment, while Hamish swelled with pride.
“Load up your flying prototypes,” Kilian said. “And any power stones you might need. We’re bringing as many of the other mechanicals as we can fit in the windrider.”
As Hamish snatched up his flying board, Verena asked, “There’s more though, isn’t there?”
“Indeed there is,” Kilian said, extracting a tiny piece of parchment from his belt pouch with a flourish. “Many things are coming to a head. War could break out any day, skirmishes are occurring along the passes, and the Arishat is mobilizing. More importantly, I’ve received word from Captain Ilse.”
“Ilse?”
“Aye. She and a small company are at the Carraig in central Obrion.”
“What are they doing so far into Obrion territory?” Verena asked.
“Pursuing a rumor.” Kilian glanced from her to Hamish, a grin spreading across his face. “Connor is alive.”
The words sucked the breath from Verena’s lungs and shook the world around her. She sagged onto her nearby floating work sled and absently reached out with fingers of thought to adjust it to support her upright like a chair. A flood of emotions roared through her, and she could hardly decide how to feel. Part of her wanted to shout for joy while part of her wanted to weep like a little girl.
Hamish reacted with his normal instant enthusiasm. He threw back his head and whooped so loud she winced.
She looked up at Kilian and smiled, while tears of joy glistened in her eyes. “How? I was there when he died.”
The memory still terrified her, and many times she had awakened in the night shaking and drenched with cold sweat. Again and again, she re-lived that terrible moment when the rope they had hoped to use to pull Connor back to the surface whipped out of her hands and sealed his fate.
As she thought back to that horrible day, she again felt the outer rim of the loch trembling under her running feet as they fled for their lives and left Connor to die in the cold heart of the loch. She had always assumed his body was crushed when he somehow blew the mountain. She remembered watching millions of gallons of water pouring down into the valley, carrying away Carbrey’s army and granting Wolfram the chance to flee. Connor’s valiant act to save his town, to save her, had cost his life. The roaring flood carried with it the best man she had ever known, an enemy who had somehow wormed his way into her heart.
Connor was alive?
Hamish was dancing around the workroom and almost collided with a couple of the nearby soldiers, who were watching him with guarded worry. Hamish had developed a reputation as a brilliant, if rather unstable, Builder.
Hope scattered the black despair of that worst day of her life and filled her with singing joy. Haunting memories faded away to happier moments. Again she felt Connor’s arm draped over her shoulder and shivered at how right it felt to stand with him like that. Again she felt the healing warmth of his amazing power wrap her broken leg and make her whole. Again she felt his hesitant lips pressed against hers while she longed to tell him the whole truth.
Kilian said, “Ilse’s trying to sneak him out, but they’ve encountered some complications.”
“What complications?” Hamish asked. “Are they in danger?”
Verena rose to her feet as sudden realization dampened her singing joy. “Ilse left here weeks ago on that mission, didn’t she?”
“She did.”
“Then you knew at least that far back that Connor lived.”
Hamish gaped. “You lied to us?”
Kilian said, “I waited until we knew for sure.”
“Knew what?” Hamish shouted. “We’ve been grieving for months and you could have told us!”
A new fear chilled Verena’s soul as her mind worked through all the possible motivations. Softly, barely daring to speak aloud the words, she spoke. “You waited until you felt it likely Ilse could bring him out instead of killing him.”
“You were going to kill him?” Hamish roared, advancing with clenched fists. His daily practice with the swordmaster had continued to pack muscles onto his lanky frame, toughening him into a menacing figure.
Kilian faced the angry young man without flinching. “Are you really ready to know, Hamish?”
“Know what, that you’re a lying murderer?” His face flushed red as his hair, and one hand slipped to his belt pouch where he held his power stones.
For the first time Kilian showed irritation. “I do not lie, but you weren’t ready to know the full truth.”
“That’s the kind of stupid justification adults use.”
“And unfocused anger is the hallmark of a child.”
“You want me to focus my anger?” Hamish snarled. “Fine.”
He drew his hand out of his belt pouch and thrust his fists out, bracing himself.
“Don’t do this, boy,” Kilian started, but Hamish tapped the quartzite stone.
Air blasted Kilian back in a wild somersault that sent him tumbling into the distant windrider. The soldiers reached for weapons, but Kilian waved them back.
Verena grabbed Hamish’s arm. “Wait. I need to hear the rest.”
“You think I can learn the truth about patronage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping.” Ailsa gestured at the surrounding books. “This is where the deeper secrets are kept. Those pearls are what you seek, hidden here among the chaff of historical texts, philosophical treatises, international contracts, and noble family bloodlines, among other things. Here is our best hope of finding the truth about patronage, how it works, why Grandurians don’t need it, and how the unclaimed are transformed into raging monsters.”
“That’s what Connor needs,” Jean agreed. “Only then can he escape Shona’s plans.”
“More than that,” Ailsa said. “I hope to help him stand free, not forced to bow to any faction until he understands their full purposes. Then, and only then, I would have him set his loyalties and pledge his allegiance.”
“Do you really think we’ll find what we seek?” Jean asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” Ailsa looked grave. “But I am determined to do everything in my power to try.”
Jean surveyed the inner library with renewed determination. “I’ll find answers for you.”
Ailsa patted Jean’s cheek. “I knew I could count on you. Remember the lessons you learned from your grandmother. Look deep, see clear. Lady Shona and Ilse represent only two factions. Everything’s tied to the game, and this year’s game will prove more interesting and more deadly than any other.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Connor is here.”
It made sense. Jean had already caught glimpses of games within games from her short time at the Carraig. Forces were gathering around Connor, and they would not relent. “How do you know my grandmother?”
“We can discuss that later. Right now you have much work to do.” She pointed out a large, ornamental day-clock on a distant shelf. “Be aware of the time and return the way we entered. Those secondary rooms at the main library are deserted by the dinner bell. Can you remain apart from Shona that long?”
Jean nodded. “She has a busy day today. I don’t think I’ll be missed.”
“Good luck.”
Ailsa slipped out the door, leaving her alone. How she planned to find her way out without the lantern, Jean didn’t know, but Ailsa hadn’t seemed worried, so Jean turned to survey the room.
Despite the danger, she found herself grinning as she began walking slowly around the room, trying to gain a sense for how the knowledge was organized. She only made it ten feet, randomly pulling tomes from the shelves to briefly thumb through them before she became engrossed in a historical text dedicated to medicinal herbs common one hundred years ago.
She didn’t slip back into the main library until well past dinner time, with two lingering thoughts from her first foray underground.
It was going to take months to study all of those books.
Connor didn’t have that much time.
Chapter 40
Connor left early for his extended rounds the next morning, dropping off new sandstone blocks to the Healers first. Aifric waved in greeting, but a couple of the other Healers didn’t look as happy to see him.
“Why’s everyone so glum this morning?” he asked Aifric as the teacher signed for the portions.
“We’re running a geall, betting how long before you get beat up again. Most of them bet you’d arrive today limping.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “Stay healthy, Connor. Every day you stay away, my position improves.”
“I thought you liked my visits,” he protested.
“Always. But I like seeing you healthy more.”
He waved to the other students on his way out. “See you in a few days.”
They glared. That posed a new potential problem. When he again needed their help, would they prefer breaking a few of his ribs to healing them?
Connor dropped off rounds with the various tertiary affinity classes. He longed to linger and try to overhear the lessons, but had to rush back to the Rhidorroch for the Boulder and Strider classes, which were all scheduled back-to-back through the rest of the morning.
While he jogged toward the walled enclosure, he re-lived the experience of running the shadowed course the night before. He planned to silently celebrate every time a student posted a worse time.
Then his good humor faded as he considered Jok. The Petralist was taking an active dislike to him. Jok still posed a threat to Jean’s safety, although her position working for Shona might offer some protection. Worse, Connor still hadn’t figured out how to win the pendant back from him. If Jok continued associating with Ivor, might the Dawnus catch a glimpse of it? If he touched it, no doubt he’d discover its secret.
Professor Greim’s class was scheduled to run the Rhidorroch first, but shortly before the first student entered the slide, students shifted to the outer wall, looking toward the castle, and a ripple of murmured excitement swept the class. Shona glanced back at Connor and motioned him to look, so he stepped behind a couple of the shorter students to see. He spotted a large company approaching from the west, moving in a tight formation and with military precision. They were clearly not students, and as they drew nearer he noted half a dozen Striders circling wide around the force in lazy-looking loops as they waited for their slower comrades. Hulking Boulders in thick plate armor with gigantic hammers and shields made up the bulk of the columns. In the lead, looking small and yet somehow deadlier when compared to the massive Boulders, came a company dressed in black battle leathers.
Fast Rollers. He knew the special-forces corps from Carbrey’s army all too well. In their center strode a thick-chested man whose craggy face Connor recognized despite the distance.
Captain Rory.
Connor stared, barely able to believe what he was seeing. Shona’s presence at the Carraig had come as a shock, but not really a surprise. Rory’s presence was almost as surprising as Ilse’s had been, and it presented an immediate threat. They would recognize him, might give him away before Shona was ready for the world to know him, so Connor drifted to the rear of the crowd of students.
He glanced toward Shona, who had pushed to the front of the class and stood at the top of the outer staircase, looking poised and calm. He caught no trace of surprise from her. She had expected Rory’s arrival.
Why Rory, and why now?
The company reached the Rhidorroch and halted in unison. Rory ascended the stairs, flanked by another pair of Fast Rollers Connor knew well. Tomas and Cameron had helped teach him about granite powers and battle strategy. They had allowed him to pass when he’d risked everything to rescue Verena. He slipped farther to one side, behind a couple of burly students who would better conceal him from view.
Under any other conditions he would have gladly rushed out to greet them. Despite the risk of their revealing him, their presence solved the issue of Shona’s security. Surely they would assign a protective detail to her after learning of the poisoning. Then again, it also complicated matters immensely. If they learned of Ilse’s presence, they’d hunt her down without mercy. While most of the Petralists at the Carraig were untested students, Rory and his army were battle-hardened veterans. No way Ilse and her tiny band could stand against them, particularly since they lacked Verena’s builded stones.
Time had felt short before, now it drained away like the sands of the timing clock. He needed to warn Ilse of the danger and beg her to leave, but he needed that letter, and the information from Kilian. Maybe he could convince her to return in the springtime?
That was as likely as Hamish voluntarily abstaining from food for an entire day.
The fact that Connor felt a bond of friendship to both Rory and Ilse complicated his life. It would be so much easier if he could hate the Grandurians, but he didn’t. He’d come to understand their position during the dark days of fighting around Alasdair, and he couldn’t condemn their actions. He respected Ilse and didn’t want to see harm come to her.
He also respected Captain Rory, and longed to greet him and his company as friends again. Would they still consider him friend if they knew how he felt about their enemies?
A new thought added to his worries. There was no way Shona could have summoned Rory after being poisoned. The trip from Merkland would take weeks. That meant she had arranged to bring him to the Carraig even before Ailsa received her summons to take up the post of resident sculptor. Why would High Lord Dougal send some of his best fighters from the front when war loomed large over the nation?
Was Rory come to protect Shona, or to deal with Connor if he didn’t play along in whatever plans Shona had for him?
Captain Rory stopped at attention in front of Lady Shona and snapped a smart salute.
“Captain,” she said with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Carraig.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Behind him, Tomas and Cameron stood at attention but still managed to look like they were slouching and about to burst out laughing at some private joke. Risking a look at them helped ease some of Connor’s tension. They were fiercely loyal to Rory, and he also counted them as friends.
Professor Greim shook Rory’s hand. “A pleasure, Captain. I’ve heard excellent reports about you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll send someone to lead you to the castle where the administrators can show you to your barracks and explain your duties.”
One of the students near Connor leaned closer to a companion. “That’s Captain Rory. Led the force that rescued Lady Shona from the Grandurians last year. They’re going to offer advanced training for the top standings and oversee the inter-class battles.”
That triggered a wave of excited whispers among the other students. Connor was wondering if he had read too much into Rory’s presence when Professor Greim spoke again.
“Where’s the linn, Connor? He can lead you there.”
Chapter 41
Verena chewed on her lip as she eased the final small thruster block into position on the rear of her personal flying transport. Hamish often teased her that she’d wear through her lips doing that, but he should worry more about their wager.
“Coming in!” Hamish bellowed as he entered the huge workroom where she was preparing for their afternoon aerial duel.
His ridiculous flying board was draped over one shoulder. She still couldn’t believe he’d insisted on pursuing that design instead of embracing her idea. He may have come up with the original idea of a smaller, more nimble flying craft, but their ideas of what that meant had turned out wildly different. So they’d agreed to each develop a prototype and prove which was better through a contest of arms.
“I’m not quite ready,” she protested. “The test isn’t scheduled to start for hours.” He’d been sneaking into her workroom to steal glimpses of her design. She’d chased him off enough times with thrown tools and spare stones that he’d taken to announcing his presence whenever the two met anywhere.
“The test will have to wait.” Kilian entered the workroom behind Hamish, followed by Dierk. A half-dozen soldiers followed, armed, armored, and carrying heavy packs, which they began loading into the windrider on the opposite side of the workroom, near the huge outer doors. “You and Hamish are coming with me to the border.”
“What’s wrong?” Verena stood and donned a light jacket to cover her work shirt, which most people found scandalously brief. They didn’t understand how much easier direct skin contact made her work.
“I don’t see why there’s such a rush,” Hamish complained, setting his board down carefully. He’d embedded quartzite thrusters along the bottom and outer edges. The design was simple and almost elegant, with all the thrusters controlled from veins of quartzite worked into the heavy bindings set across the board, where he’d secure his feet. “Can’t we at least wait until I win?”
“As if you would,” she retorted. That he still thought he had a chance was ridiculous, even for him.
“We leave immediately,” Kilian said. The worry lines had returned to his face. “I’ve received word.”
“Another patrol attacked?” Verena guessed.
“Almost,” he said. “They sighted something strange. The report describes it as a large, apelike beast that moved at nearly fracked speed, with exceptional jumping ability. The patrol couldn’t catch it.”
“What are apes?” Hamish asked.
“They’re like giant monkeys,” Verena explained.
He gave her a disgusted look. “You’re assuming I know what monkeys are.”
“We’ll explain once we’re airborne,” Kilian said. “The important thing is that I’ve never heard of anything like what they claimed to have seen. It appears Obrion may have trained some new element. With armies already massing on the borders, we can’t allow for any unknowns to roam the borderlands. I need you two with me down there. You’re my best inventors.”
Verena smiled at the compliment, while Hamish swelled with pride.
“Load up your flying prototypes,” Kilian said. “And any power stones you might need. We’re bringing as many of the other mechanicals as we can fit in the windrider.”
As Hamish snatched up his flying board, Verena asked, “There’s more though, isn’t there?”
“Indeed there is,” Kilian said, extracting a tiny piece of parchment from his belt pouch with a flourish. “Many things are coming to a head. War could break out any day, skirmishes are occurring along the passes, and the Arishat is mobilizing. More importantly, I’ve received word from Captain Ilse.”
“Ilse?”
“Aye. She and a small company are at the Carraig in central Obrion.”
“What are they doing so far into Obrion territory?” Verena asked.
“Pursuing a rumor.” Kilian glanced from her to Hamish, a grin spreading across his face. “Connor is alive.”
The words sucked the breath from Verena’s lungs and shook the world around her. She sagged onto her nearby floating work sled and absently reached out with fingers of thought to adjust it to support her upright like a chair. A flood of emotions roared through her, and she could hardly decide how to feel. Part of her wanted to shout for joy while part of her wanted to weep like a little girl.
Hamish reacted with his normal instant enthusiasm. He threw back his head and whooped so loud she winced.
She looked up at Kilian and smiled, while tears of joy glistened in her eyes. “How? I was there when he died.”
The memory still terrified her, and many times she had awakened in the night shaking and drenched with cold sweat. Again and again, she re-lived that terrible moment when the rope they had hoped to use to pull Connor back to the surface whipped out of her hands and sealed his fate.
As she thought back to that horrible day, she again felt the outer rim of the loch trembling under her running feet as they fled for their lives and left Connor to die in the cold heart of the loch. She had always assumed his body was crushed when he somehow blew the mountain. She remembered watching millions of gallons of water pouring down into the valley, carrying away Carbrey’s army and granting Wolfram the chance to flee. Connor’s valiant act to save his town, to save her, had cost his life. The roaring flood carried with it the best man she had ever known, an enemy who had somehow wormed his way into her heart.
Connor was alive?
Hamish was dancing around the workroom and almost collided with a couple of the nearby soldiers, who were watching him with guarded worry. Hamish had developed a reputation as a brilliant, if rather unstable, Builder.
Hope scattered the black despair of that worst day of her life and filled her with singing joy. Haunting memories faded away to happier moments. Again she felt Connor’s arm draped over her shoulder and shivered at how right it felt to stand with him like that. Again she felt the healing warmth of his amazing power wrap her broken leg and make her whole. Again she felt his hesitant lips pressed against hers while she longed to tell him the whole truth.
Kilian said, “Ilse’s trying to sneak him out, but they’ve encountered some complications.”
“What complications?” Hamish asked. “Are they in danger?”
Verena rose to her feet as sudden realization dampened her singing joy. “Ilse left here weeks ago on that mission, didn’t she?”
“She did.”
“Then you knew at least that far back that Connor lived.”
Hamish gaped. “You lied to us?”
Kilian said, “I waited until we knew for sure.”
“Knew what?” Hamish shouted. “We’ve been grieving for months and you could have told us!”
A new fear chilled Verena’s soul as her mind worked through all the possible motivations. Softly, barely daring to speak aloud the words, she spoke. “You waited until you felt it likely Ilse could bring him out instead of killing him.”
“You were going to kill him?” Hamish roared, advancing with clenched fists. His daily practice with the swordmaster had continued to pack muscles onto his lanky frame, toughening him into a menacing figure.
Kilian faced the angry young man without flinching. “Are you really ready to know, Hamish?”
“Know what, that you’re a lying murderer?” His face flushed red as his hair, and one hand slipped to his belt pouch where he held his power stones.
For the first time Kilian showed irritation. “I do not lie, but you weren’t ready to know the full truth.”
“That’s the kind of stupid justification adults use.”
“And unfocused anger is the hallmark of a child.”
“You want me to focus my anger?” Hamish snarled. “Fine.”
He drew his hand out of his belt pouch and thrust his fists out, bracing himself.
“Don’t do this, boy,” Kilian started, but Hamish tapped the quartzite stone.
Air blasted Kilian back in a wild somersault that sent him tumbling into the distant windrider. The soldiers reached for weapons, but Kilian waved them back.
Verena grabbed Hamish’s arm. “Wait. I need to hear the rest.”
