Bear Knight, page 14
Connor could not argue with that part. Everything Lee had said as they rode the river into the city had proved true. Knowing the dragons were up to something, Connor had not wanted to travel south, farther from the barrier. But the Rescuer had laid that path for them in advance.
The peace Connor had felt when last he visited this homestead had dimmed. It was not vanquished entirely, but frail. “Whichever of these two items we seek,” he said, “we must first shore up Faelin’s work, or this place may soon be overrun.” He looked to Zel and made a quick tilt of his head. “Come on. Hop out of there. We need your help.”
At his behest, the three knelt in the clearing together, hands joined in the center.
“Ke’Rumosh kamelnesh. Tav sho’emana cresana . . .”
He is my shepherd. What I need, I have . . .
Connor and Lee taught Zel the Prayer of Sanctuaries, as the guardians had taught them. And all three prayed together, ending with its last line of ultimate hope. “Po haviana elamid aler hav Rumosh.”
And I will dwell in his house forever.
When they finished, Connor breathed deep. The air tasted sweeter. The pines looked greener. But Faelin’s house and shed were still a wreck, marred by goblin script. “Come on. We’ve much to do before going after the dagger.”
While Zel took care of The Starling, removing pines and checking the wicker and the lamps, Connor and Lee cleaned up. The char marks proved hard to remove, but they managed. More concerning were the thefts. The goblins had cleaned the house out, even taking most of the pictures from the walls in Faelin’s work room—the charcoal drawings Kara had made for him in the years before the dragon Vorax came to the highlands.
“Look, Connor. One picture remains. An important one.” Lee lifted a drawing of Kara herself from the wall. Behind it, in a small niche dug out of the mud brick, lay a key and a knife. “They didn’t find these.”
“Only by the High One’s sovereignty and grace.” Connor crossed the room and took the drawing, framed in driftwood. He wondered how she was fairing. With news of dark creatures once again breaching the barrier, plans at the academy might change. I know you’ve laid a path for her as well, he said in his heart, and carefully set the picture on Faelin’s old worktable. “If the goblins never discovered the key, then how’d they open the shed?”
They went out to look and found Zel inside, restacking the charwood the goblins had strewn about. When Connor pulled an armload of logs out again, she frowned. “What are you doing?”
“This is more than a woodshed. Help me move these aside.”
While they worked, Lee examined the mangled padlock. “They broke the first lock. Spent a good deal of time on it too—unusual for goblin mischief. They don’t have that kind of patience.”
“I don’t understand.” Zel set a stack of wood next to Connor’s and dusted herself off. “The first lock? What are you two talking about?”
“We’ll show you.” Connor twisted the dagger’s pommel. The cross guard slid apart. He removed the blade and showed her the key hidden beneath. “Faelin built a secret door.”
All of his patehpa’s stores were still inside the armory—weapons, coins, clothing, manykits, and maps. Connor and Lee struck one of the lanterns and immediately began picking out gear.
Zel accepted a manykit from Connor and slipped off her fur-lined cloak to try it on, eying the confusion of leather straps as if they were a puzzle bought at a fair. “Are there other sanctuaries like this in Tanelethar?”
“Several,” Connor said, helping her interpret the clusters of pouches and fasteners, showing her how to buckle the straps. “Assuming your tehpa is correct. I’m hoping one of these maps will tell us.”
“This one, I think.” Lee took a large map of all Tanelethar down from its hook. The scribe had dropped a red lens in front of his eye. He scanned Faelin’s inkwork and nodded. “Oh, yes. Definitely this one. I’ll show you in the house.”
Before they left the shed, the three gathered the rest of their supplies. Zel had no skill with a sword or bow, but she told them she could wield an axe well enough. Connor gave her a small one and added a double-stacked crossbow. “Use this with caution.”
She loaded two bolts and raised the bow to her eye. “I think I can handle it.”
“Can you? Wait for your enemy to draw near. It takes training to hit a distant mark, but at close range”—Connor pushed the tips down to point at the floor instead of his neck—“you can’t miss.”
In Faelin’s hearth room, the three righted his table and laid out the map. “I brought a special map glass from the stores,” Lee said, showing them a brass triangle with a red lens and wolf’s paws for feet, “much like the one we found here before. Master Belen says the Order used them often for passing secrets in the old days.” He leaned over the table with his lantern to slide the triangle across the map. “If you look here, you can—”
Connor snatched the lantern away. “I’ll hang on to this if you don’t mind.”
The scribe pressed his lips together. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing. Remember what happened last time we were here? There’s no sense in sending another map up in flames.”
Lee held his gaze for another beat, then continued his work. “Fair enough.”
The scribe’s red lens revealed marks and sketches in a secret ink they’d seen before on another of Faelin’s maps. These hidden drawings made secret paths and places hover above the parchment. “Whether we look for the dagger or the key, we should start here, where Faelin’s party was routed.” Lee held the lens over an inlet on Tanelethar’s northeastern coast labeled Graywater Bay and panned it around the nearby foothills. A drawing of a glade appeared, surrounded by ridges. “This must be a sanctuary, perhaps the first Faelin built. We can base there, and hopefully we may find some notes or records to steer our course.”
“But how will we get there?” Connor measured the distance with portions of his crook. “Look at the size of Tanelethar compared to Keledev. Even in The Starling—and even if we could fly during the day without being seen—the journey would take a week or more.”
“Ah.” Lee rubbed his hands together. “That’s why this map is such an exciting find. Faelin did his work well, and I have a plan.”
26
AARON
KELEDEV
THOUSAND FALLS OUTPOST
The timber dining hall at Thousand Falls buzzed with the news of Teegan Yar’s raven. She’d sent it to Sireth, her tehpa, rather than the watchmaster, but none among the company blamed her for blood loyalty. Some did, however, blame her and the other lightraider cadets for this new threat. Dark creatures had entered the land once again.
Their grumblings made little sense to Aaron. Was that not why they’d come to Thousand Falls? Did they not expect, after Avner Jairun’s warning, to one day fight evil in these foothills? Perhaps they’d only come to play at soldiering and eat the pork and bread granted by the Assembly.
Sireth left the meal line and set his plate down across the table from Aaron’s. The two had stuck close since their arrival with the newest cohort. Aaron could not speak to Sireth’s motives for the partnership, but for his part, the young man stayed by Sireth because he recognized wisdom and skill. When swinging axes and hammers, whether in labor or battle, Aaron preferred the company of a man of experience over those his own age.
“It seems some of the others have heard,” Sireth said, stabbing a square of cheese with his fork.
“Every soul in the outpost has heard. I saw it in the pale faces of the logging crew when they left this morning, as if they all expect to take a dagger in the chest or a black arrow in the throat as they strip the branches from the felled pines.”
“I think a portion of such awareness is wisdom. But fear is folly. What do you say?”
Aaron had to chase a mouthful of bread with water from the falls before he could reply. “I say I’d rather find the creatures that killed the parcelman before they find me, though I hope we don’t find them riding pine badgers on the unstable ground of the marsh run.”
“Now that shows awareness and wisdom.”
The way Sireth waved his apple slice before tossing it into his mouth told Aaron he’d been thinking the same thing. More than thinking, probably. Sireth was never idle. “You’ve already spoken to the watchmaster,” Aaron said. “You already have a plan, right? Are you putting together a crew to search the woods?”
Sireth raised his graying eyebrows. “Crews are for work. This is a scouting party. And Thousand Oaks will send three. We’ll cover the forest between here and the Windhold, while the Windhold’s parties search to the east. I expect Ravencrest and the other companies to complete the line. Something dark walks these foothills, lad. And we must find it.” Sireth stretched an open hand across the table. “We are the watchmen.”
Aaron let out a quiet laugh, realizing that like the others, part of him had only come north to play at soldiering. That part was now gone. He gripped his friend’s hand and gave him a grim nod. “We are the wall.”
TIRAN
APPROACHING RAS TELESAR
After the fright and sorrow of finding Barnabas slain by some unknown dark creature, Teegan and Tiran had cried and prayed, commending him to the Rescuer. A mournful whinny had led them to his horse, Clarence, head hung low, still harnessed to a cart and stuck in the trees, but otherwise unhurt. Barnabas had likely died defending him, leading the creature away. The horse’s last service to his master was to carry his remains to the inn.
The twins had sent ravens north, south, east, and west from the Apple Barrel, spent a sleepless night in borrowed beds, and then set out for Ras Telesar. Tiran’s gift for their tehpa would have to wait.
Now, arriving at the academy, they found the younger cadet stalwarts and initiates guarding the lower ramparts. Master Quinton walked among them, checking the sharpness of their blades and the resin on their bowstrings.
“Barnabas was never meant to cross the barrier,” Teegan said as the two walked through the gatekeeper’s door into the lower courtyards. “He never should have had to fight whatever evil he encountered in that forest.”
“Such is the age we live in.” Tiran lifted a hand to greet the cadet who closed and locked the door behind them. “Our parents let evil fester north of the barrier. Now that evil has found inroads into Keledev, and we must deal with the consequences.”
When they reached the lower ward, Tiran looked up toward the fifth rampart and saw Master Belen waiting there. “No time for rest or grief, I see. Looks like we’re getting straight to work.”
Belen ushered them into the Hall of Manna, where Master Jairun and several other guardians waited. Pedrig stood with them, and Teegan ran ahead to hug the wolf the moment she saw him. To Tiran’s knowledge, she remained the only human for whom Pedrig allowed this indulgence.
“Hello, daughter of autumn,” the wolf said in a constricted grunt. “I missed you too. It pains me to meet you again under such circumstances.”
“It pains you because of her fierce squeezing.” Tiran lightly kicked at his shessa’s foot with his own. “Let the wolf be, Teegs. He’s Havarra, a shepherd of the beasts, not a fleece toy.”
“Let her be.” Headmaster Jairun closed the doors behind them. “Such moments will become fleeting now that the war has begun.” He sighed. “I’d hoped we’d be given more time.”
“The enemy knows nothing of hope,” Dame Silvana said, “nor of giving. I’m surprised we made it this far before another breach, especially since we never learned how Vorax opened his portal in the first place.”
Master Jairun shot her a glance, and she gave a slight bow of her head. “Forgive me. I meant no criticism. I only meant it’s clear the Rescuer held the monsters at bay. To my reckoning, nothing else explains the time we’ve had.”
Several in the hall voiced their agreement, and with that prompting, Master Jairun opened their discussion with a prayer. “Vynovu, Rumosh,” he said as he finished. “Se vy’enu.”
They all answered in the Common Tongue. “Your ways, High One. Not ours.”
Dame Silvana leaned against the hall’s great hearth and bent her head to one side. “So, Headmaster. As you said, war is upon us. What now? Go north again? Look for a second portal?”
Master Jairun shook his head. “A single portal proved a poor tactic for the enemy. Vorax ruled the southernmost cantons, ignored by the greater dragon lords for generations. He may have leapt ahead of his master’s wishes by sending goblins into that unstable hollow hill.”
“If a portal could still be opened, ya think Heleyor would’ve waited this long?” Quinton asked.
“He is waiting. Plotting. Building. Always. But he may not have known the full story or power of that portal. Heleyor is not omniscient. He only pretends to be. And true to his own dragon nature, Vorax acted in pride. And that may have prevented him from reporting his efforts to Ras Pyras. We know for certain that growing and directing the portal took all his abilities—so much that a handful of fledgling cadets were able to stop him.”
Pedrig flattened his ears. “A handful of cadets aided by a Havarra wolf and a battle-hardened guardian of the light, I’ll remind you.”
“Yes. Of course. My point is, Vorax’s plan was rushed and ill-conceived. Heleyor is equally prideful, but he won’t be so rash. The hollow hills are few. I doubt he’ll risk losing them on a tactic that already failed.”
Tiran worked to understand the guardians’ exchange. The dragon Vorax had used his mind to steer an unstable hollow hill—a portal formed by a fold in the fabric of creation—to send dark creatures into Keledev. The cadets had collapsed the portal, and it had reappeared in a new location as one of the Rescuer’s hollow trees, out of the dragons’ reach. This was a victory, but troubling questions remained. “If this new incursion is not the result of a hollow hill, then how did the creature enter our land?”
“How indeed, Mister Yar.” Master Jairun nodded toward the wolf. “I think Pedrig may shed some light on the question.”
In answer, Pedrig asked Tiran a question of his own—a hard one. “Tell me, son of autumn, when you saw the parcelman’s wounds. Did you see any sign of infection?”
Tiran shuddered to picture Barnabas lying there in the brush, red wounds tinted black in the dark. The old cut on his forehead flashed with pain, and he touched his rag to the spot. “He’d been there a while. I saw insects and . . .”
“Lace,” Teegan said, coming to his aid. “A growth with the look of gray lace surrounded the cuts.”
“Mmm.” Pedrig padded in a slow circle. “The daughter of winter and I saw the same. On a wolf pup high on the peaks.”
Belen, who’d remained silent and watchful up to that moment, stood from the bench where he’d been sitting. “Lichen. And lichen means frost goblins. They alone infect their victims with such fungus.”
The wolf’s ears came forward, and he lowered his muzzle, which Tiran had learned was his way of nodding. “Agreed. Both the parcelman and the pup suffered wounds from a frost goblin’s soiled ice blade. The attack on the parcelman makes some sense. These corruptions are drawn to humans. But why should one appear so near the Clefts of Semajin, where no humans live, and few may tread?”
Dame Silvana left her place by the hearth. “What are you saying, Master Wolf?”
“I’m saying it is possible our enemies have found a way to harden the frost goblins even more. I’m saying these creatures may need no portal. They may have climbed over the Celestial Peaks.”
As Tiran tried to take this all in, his shessa glanced around the room. “Daughter of winter,” she said. “You mean Kara. So, she saw evidence of a frost goblin as well. But where is she now?”
It was the headmaster who answered. “I have not disturbed her with this news of Barnabas. Not yet. I sent her out on her fourth quest before dawn—into Argallan’s Maze.”
27
KARA
ARGALLAN’S MAZE
“Admit it. You’re lost.”
Kara glanced back from the bow of the rowboat and pursed her lips at the young cadet manning the oars. “I’m not lost, Paskin. I chose the right stream.” But the instant she looked forward again, the confidence in her expression waned. I hope.
The steep, gravelly walls of the ravines all looked the same. And to get lost during the Navigator’s Quest was to fail, and another failure would kill her chances of entering the spheres with Connor and the others. By the time she tried again, Keir might be dead.
Her small party of three had been rowing upstream for more than an hour since she’d called for the turn off the main flow of the Gathering. They had to find the Sleeping Unicorn promised by her cryptic map before midday. So far—nothing. And now the featureless scree slopes were closing in on them.
Dag, resting from his last turn at rowing on the bench between her and Paskin, massaged his arms and looked up at the slopes as if they were the most interesting landmarks in all Keledev. “Have either of you read Argallan’s Woes?”
Paskin snorted. “Who wants to read tales of another’s sorrows? No living soul in all Talania has read that text—apart from you, I guess.”
“Then I guess all Talania is missing out,” Dag said. “Sometimes we must read another’s sorrows to better understand ourselves.”
A rebuke from an older cadet—especially of Dag’s size—should have shut Paskin’s mouth for at least another league. And by the faint upward turn of his lips, Kara gathered that this was Dag’s intent.
“The writer,” the miner said, “who remains unknown, says this maze was the last of Argallan’s woes. Argallan left Ras Telesar to explore it not long after the rising of the Celestial Peaks and never returned. Hence the name.”
