He spent much of the time thinking of Reshel. He still missed her keenly; more than he would have thought possible. When he'd seen her body lying in a pool of blood atop the Sundering, he felt something break in his chest. In a way, his future ended in that moment, and even now he had not regained it. All of his dreams for the two of them together, no matter how unlikely, were still a possibility while she lived and felt the same way about him. There was always a chance they could have convinced the king to allow them to wed, and if no decision had been made before King Abran's death, he felt certain-well, relatively so-that Gerin would have sanctioned it.

But that future was gone. The future where they were together, happy and comfortable with each other, perhaps even with children. Sometimes that lost future was so vivid in his mind it was like a memory of something actually lived. And he still did not know what path his life would take. He was like a man wandering lost in a fog.

He thought of their time together and held it close to his heart, though the memories had edges and cut him as well. Memories of holding her hand and speaking quietly with her, their faces so close their noses sometimes touched, which made them both laugh. Of the excitement of stolen kisses, the scent of her fresh skin, her fingers twining through his hair, his hands cupping her face.

Tears would have sprung to his eyes from his pain if the Soul Stealer's power had allowed it. But it did not, and so he bore his pain in anguished, utter silence.

The wound of Reshel's loss was as fresh as ever, and he despaired of it ever healing.

When they stopped for the night at the edge of a small woods, she gave him some food and commanded him to eat. "Some of those I've captured tried to starve themselves as a way to escape me," she said in her strangely accented voice. "There is no escape unless I grant it. The sooner you realize it, the better you will be."

They did not make a fire. Sitting in the growing darkness, she said to him, "What did you discover in those black Towers? I saw the destruction of the Steadfast army. Was it Gerin Atreyano who called the wall of blue fire? You may speak."

He felt control of his voice return to him. It was a small, subtle change, and he was surprised at how relieved he felt.

"Who are you? Are you the same-"

"Silence."

As quickly as it returned, the control of his voice vanished.

"You will only answer questions I ask. If I am pleased, I may allow you to speak more. If I am not pleased, you will remain silent until I deliver you to the Herolen, and I promise you that they will make you tell them whatever they want to hear. Tell me what you found in the Towers. Do not lie. Speak."

Balandrick felt a deep compulsion to tell her everything he knew about the Watchtowers. He tried to resist, to say something, anything, else.

But her power was too great. He could not fight it, and the words spilled out of him.

Her eyes grew wide when he spoke of the Words of Making, the only emotion she had shown since capturing him.

"Do you know how to reach this fortress where the wizards live?" she asked.

"Yes." Inwardly, he cursed himself for betraying Gerin. How can I be so weak? he thought miserably.

A wild, animated light danced across her dark eyes. "You have told me more than I would have thought possible." She fixed her stare upon him once more. "You may ask me questions. Speak."

His volition moved forward in his own mind, as if he were rising to the surface of the sea from dark depths. There was no other way to describe the sensation. He was now free to speak.

He wanted to weep, but he steeled himself. He needed to be strong if he hoped to escape and prevent her from taking the knowledge he'd just given her back to her masters.

"Are you the one who captured Gerin before?"

"Yes. That is obvious. Do not waste the gift I give you or I will silence you again."

"Where will you take me? Are there-"

"Silence. I am no fool. I know you are trying to find a weakness in what I am doing, a way to escape." She turned away from him, pondering what he had told her, leaving him to rage against her in the quiet s.p.a.ces of his mind.

For the first time, he realized she had never asked him his name.

Katel's mind raced with possibilities. The soldier had told her everything she had hoped to learn when she first set foot upon these sh.o.r.es with Rulhamad. That seemed so long ago now. A lifetime ago. So much had happened since then, but one thing remained constant-the fire in her heart that refused to be quenched despite her many setbacks.

Her hope for her son, Huma. Hope that she would one day see him again, and set him free from the bonds of the Harridan. That they could live normal lives without being shunned by all others of the Steadfast. She would rise above the life she had been given.

And now she had the means to do it. Knowledge of the Words of Making. What they were, and where they could be found.

With some satisfaction, she realized Gerin had not been lying to her when he said he knew nothing of the Words. She'd always known it had to be so-no one could defy her power-but had never been able to explain the discrepancy between what he'd said and what the Dreamers had seen in their visions. She was still not certain how the Dreamers could have seen him with the Words if he had yet to retrieve them from their hiding place within the circlet worn by this Archmage. Perhaps they saw a vision of the future but had not realized it as such. It was the only explanation she could think of.

Still, it was no matter if the Dreamers had seen the future or not. She knew the mystery of the Words. It was a secret she controlled, and this time she would accept nothing less than absolute freedom for herself and her son as the price of handing over this prize.

22.

What do you mean he's gone?" Therain asked the palace guard at the Tirthaig. "Where?"

The man stammered and dropped his gaze to his toes, as if hoping beyond hope that the answer was inscribed somewhere on his boots. "I-I don't know, my lord. All we've been told is that the king returned to his castle in the west-lands. No one's sure when he'll return."

"Why would he go to Ailethon?" Therain said, more to himself than the guard. "There's no need for him to go there." The ancestral home of the Atreyanos was nominally in Therain's control since Gerin had ascended to the Sapphire Throne, though Matren Swendes was charged with the day-to-day administration of the castle and its holdings, which he did according to Therain's wishes. Therain had considered moving to Ailethon after his wedding, but having become comfortable in Agdenor, he decided to remain there, at least for the present.

"Again, I don't know, my lord. I wasn't told the reason, only that he was leaving."

"Why isn't Gerin here?" asked Claressa behind him. "His kingdom is under attack and he's taking a leisurely ride through the countryside?"

The guard looked up. "Under attack, my lord?"

Therain turned to his sister, grabbed her upper arm firmly and said, "Say nothing more, Claressa."

She glared at him and crossed her arms, but remained silent.

"Repeat nothing of what you've heard here," Therain said to the guard, but had no illusions that his command would be obeyed for longer than it took for him to leave the soldier's sight.

"Of course, my lord."

A servant took them to Terl Enkelares, who was in his salon, poring over the most recent report from the Minister of Coin regarding the state of the treasury. When Therain and Claressa entered, he rose from his table and inclined his head.

"My lord, my lady, it is good to see you, though I admit to some surprise," he said. "I had no word that you were coming."

"Then our messages did not reach you?" asked Therain. "Have you heard anything about the Pelklander invasion?"

"What?" The minister's alarm was genuine. "I have not. Please, my lord and lady, sit and tell me what's happened."

Therain described the invasion of Tolthean. Claressa continually interrupted, interjecting her own comments about needing to hurry up so they could rain "death, destruction, and despair" upon the vile islanders, until Therain barked at her to be quiet. "You can give your account when I'm through, but for the sake of the G.o.ds, Claressa, let me finish!"

When Therain concluded his account of the Pelklander troop movements and his belief that they were keeping to a relatively small area, Enkelares asked him a few pointed questions about armaments, supply routes, and total troop strength. Therain had deliberately not mentioned his newfound ability to control animals, and described Claressa's rescue in purely standard military terms, embellishing where he needed to. Enkelares nodded, impressed with the prince's ability to retrieve his sister, then gestured to Claressa. "My lady, please, I would hear your point of view. It must have been harrowing."

"More than you can know, Minister." She filled in more detail of the earlier parts of the invasion than Therain had been able to, then described her harrowing attempt to flee the castle as it fell. She tried to describe poor Elezan's death, but though her mouth worked, no sound came out. Tears filled her eyes and splashed down her cheeks.

Therain reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's all right," he said soothingly. "We understand. Just move on."

She, too, did not mention his newly discovered magical abilities. He had told her when they were still at sea that he did not want anyone to know about it until he could discuss the matter with the wizards. And d.a.m.n everything to Shayphim, when I get here I find they've all left the city! He felt as if he would never have answers.

After Claressa finished, they ate and talked a bit longer with the minister about Gerin's absence, which Therain still found mysterious despite Enkelares's quite sincere protestations that he was telling them all he knew. "If there is something untoward about the king's departure, my lord, he did not deign to share it with me. I'm sorry I can't be more illuminating."

"Don't worry, Minister. I'm sure everything's fine."

"Just terribly inconvenient," said Claressa. "And so like him."

Therain was taken to rooms prepared for him. Laysa was already there, and asked him what happened.

"The seat of government apparently knows nothing about the invasion," he said. "The messages we sent never got here. We're meeting later tonight with the rest of the ministers to inform them."

"When will we be able to go home?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I just don't know."

The news of the Pelklander invasion was met with a sense of urgency from the eastern lords, while the western n.o.bles, if not quite indifferent, cautioned that they could not afford to rush headlong into another conflict without knowing more of what the Pelklanders wanted.

This incensed Claressa. "They've taken our lands! They've kidnapped and perhaps killed the rightful lord of Tolthean and his family! It's outrageous that they want to do nothing."

"They don't want to do nothing," said Therain. "But they want to be cautious."

"I agree with Claressa," said Laysa, who had grown close to her sister-in-law during their journey to Almaris. "You men need to make up your minds and do something about this affront to Khedesh. Just because it happened far from here doesn't make it any less important."

Therain decided to refrain from arguing and went for a walk around the Tirthaig with Kelpa. He was leaning on a stone bal.u.s.trade overlooking the Cleave, Kelpa resting by his side, when he saw a large ship making for the harbor. He went cold, though he could not say exactly why. It was too far away for him to make out the colors it flew, but there was something about it that disturbed him.

He sent his power into a gull and commanded it to fly toward the ship. The giddy exhilaration he would normally have felt was subdued by the unease that filled him.

It did not take the gull long to swoop close enough to the ship for him to make out the flags flapping from its masts. He cancelled his power, then turned from the bal.u.s.trade. "Come on, boy," he said to the dog. He had to find Enkelares.

Pelklanders, he thought.

And below their colors, the flag of parley.

The Pelklander emba.s.sy was brought to the Tirthaig bearing flags of truce and parley. The City Watch closely surrounded the ten men-one amba.s.sador and his guards-as they made their way through the city streets. People crowded the cobbles and leaned out open windows to gape and catcall as the strangely garbed visitors from the islands marched past. A few dared the wrath of the City Watch by hurling rotten tomatoes and cabbage. Three watchmen veered off from the main group and chased after them, but they vanished down dark twisting alleys and escaped the beating they certainly would have endured had they been caught.

The amba.s.sador was brought to the throne room, his guards forced to remain in the rear of the hall while he was escorted to the dais where Therain and Terl Enkelares waited. Both were dressed in fine wool and silk bearing the colors of the realm and of House Atreyano.

The Pelklander amba.s.sador looked to be in his fifties, with receding gray hair that swept straight back from his high forehead. Both ears and his left eyebrow were pierced multiple times with hoops of gold and silver. His skin was wind-burned and rough. He wore layers of leather dyed black and scarlet, and carried an ornate staff that he leaned upon for support. His right leg was lame, and he walked with a p.r.o.nounced limp.

He stopped a few feet from the dais. "Greetings to King Gerin Atreyano of Khedesh, from His Grace the n.o.ble King Daqoros of the Pelklander Islands. I am Hurkun, sent to convey the king's wishes regarding the dispensation of the territory known to you as Tolthean, formerly the Pelklander province of Arduun."

Therain bristled at the man's words, but held his temper in check. He had agreed to let Enkelares speak to the Pelklanders, though he'd told the minister he reserved the right to interrupt if he felt the need.

"Greetings, Hurkun. I am Terl Enkelares, Minister of the Realm. This is Therain Atreyano, the younger brother of the king and Duke of Agdenor and Ailethon. King Gerin is presently outside the city and not available to meet with you."

Hurkun scowled. "My words are for the king."

"Then you should have sent advance word of your coming," said Terl dismissively. "You may either present King Daqoros's wishes to us, or you may leave and return home. You will not be permitted to wait for the king to return, unless you wish to do so in your ship on the open sea. We will not house you while our two countries are effectively at war."

"Minister Enkelares, that is precisely why I have come. To avert war that will result in pointless bloodshed on both sides. We merely seek a resolution over disputed land."

Therain decided it was time for him to speak. "Your king has waged war against our kingdom and occupied Khedeshian lands and property, and will be held accountable. Baron Toresh and his family are missing. You will return them at once and depart our lands, or we will once again destroy Urkein as my grandfather did, only this time we will raze it to the ground and drive your people into the sea so they'll trouble us no more."

He could see Enkelares wince from the corner of his eye, but he didn't care. He was not a diplomat, thank the G.o.ds. He didn't have the stomach for all the banter and pointless dancing around the crux of the problem with verbal niceties and stiff, insincere politeness. His mother and father had tried to make him understand the necessary nuances of politics, but their lessons had not taken hold. He spoke his mind, and Shayphim take anyone who didn't like it.

Hurkun forced himself to smile in an attempt to seem pleasant and friendly. In Therain's estimation, it failed miserably.

"Since you have broached the subject, I have news of Baron Toresh and his family," said Hurkun. His smile now looked like a wolf baring its teeth. "They are safe and well."

"So you have them as hostages?" said Therain.

Enkelares could not contain himself. "My lord, please."

"They are safe and in our custody," said Hurkun with the same wolfish grin. "Rest a.s.sured they will not be harmed."

"What terms is King Daqoros offering for their return?" asked Enkelares.

Hurkun first issued a statement. "The region now known as Tolthean was once the sovereign territory of the Pelkland Islands. The present reoccupation of those lands was carried out to right an ancient wrong. We want no more than what was once ours."

"Theft is theft, Amba.s.sador, no matter how you try to dress it up," said Therain.

"You are correct, my lord. And theft done generations ago also remains theft, no matter how long the pa.s.sage of time. We seek only what was once ours."

"What are your terms?" asked Enkelares with a trace of impatience. Therain wondered if that was aimed at him or the amba.s.sador.

"We will release Baron Toresh and his family, and all other captured n.o.bles and commoners, in return for control of the coastal region known as Tolthean. That territory shall become a sovereign part of the Pelklander kingdom and subject to all its laws and customs. Those now living there will be permitted to remain if they so wish, though they will pay tribute to Urkein. Those Pelklanders wishing to migrate from the islands to the mainland will be permitted to do so."

Therain had to resist a very strong urge to strangle the grin from the amba.s.sador's face. Having one hand makes strangling a bit harder, but I'd still like to give it a go, he thought.

"You may return to your ship while we discuss your terms, Amba.s.sador," said Enkelares.

Hurkun bowed. "I shall await your decision."

"You're not seriously thinking of giving him what he wants?" said Claressa.

"Please tell me you're going to sink his ship in the harbor and send these criminals to their graves," said Laysa.

G.o.ds above me, when did she get so bloodthirsty? She's definitely spending too much time with Claressa.

"I'm not thinking of giving him anything," he said.

"Good," said Claressa.