“What are you doing?”
Wayra grabbed Keld’s shoulder with her good hand and spun him around to face her. “I didn’t authorize you to make any mindlink connections.”
The dim, silvery halo faded from Keld’s head as he dropped the mindlink spell. He blinked fast as he returned to the present.
“Forgive me, I was just checking if it was safe to connect to Diodor.”
Wayra frowned. “It is not your place to cast that spell. You could have been attacked.”
He met her gaze for a second. “Yes, my lady, I know.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “It’s just, I’ve been practicing mindlink recently and wanted to see if I could make it that far.”
“And you felt it necessary to hide in the woods to make the attempt?” Wayra asked, her voice soft but menacing.
Keld glanced at the heavy brush concealing them from the rest of the camp.
Only by chance had Wayra stumbled upon the young man in the midst of the spell. The connection had been so heavily shielded that she had been unable to glean any idea of what he was saying.
His face flushed with embarrassment. “Again, I’m sorry. I knew you might not approve.”
“Then why do it?”
He shuffled his feet and replied in a whisper, “I knew you’d probably try it, and I didn’t want you hurt if the enemy was still blocking the connections.”
Wayra paused, swallowing an angry reprimand. She studied the young fellow closely. Everything he said sounded plausible, but something didn’t feel right.
She was tempted to cast Truth on him and demand to know everything, but if he had really been motivated by loyalty and concern for her, could she repay him with such a lack of trust?
Too much had gone wrong in the past week, and events were spiraling out of control. She refused to look down at her withered hand. She’d slipped, just for a second. She deserved better.
She would have better. Soon.
She didn’t understand everything Harafin said, and that made her nervous. Tanathos could murder Antigonus anywhere. It didn’t make sense that he needed to invade Il’Aicharen to do so. But if he did, she’d have failed doubly. It could not be allowed.
“You made a connection?” Wayra asked.
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“You interrupted me before I could complete the link to Ruggiero,” he said quickly. “But I could sense his mind, so I know the way is clear.”
They returned to the campsite and she considered Keld's words. If he really had reached all the way to Diodor, his powers were greater than she had realized. She would have to test him soon. With that much strength, and with some careful guidance, he could become a powerful helpmate.
The rest of the company sat around a cheery fire stoked high enough to hold back the chill night air. “I will contact Diodor,” she said, seating herself near the blaze.
“Do you think that’s wise?” Thyra asked.
“Keld made it through.”
Wayra closed her eyes and focused her power. Taking great care, she triple-shielded her mind and thrust out with her senses, hurtling northwest toward the capital.
Racing her thoughts across the surface of the land always invigorated her, and the heightened risk tonight only intensified the thrill. In the clearing by the fire, her breath came fast and her face flushed with excitement. The other sentinels watched, ready to leap to her aid if needed.
The land flashed by, a pale shadow of reality. The general shape of the land, trees, and buildings flowed through her mind-sight. Smaller things, like people, were vague, ethereal forms that glowed with subdued amber light.
As she neared Diodor, pinpoints of light appeared in her vision and, as she drew closer, they brightened into flaming beacons which called to her mind. Those were the minds of the actinopathic, ones who could sense her, accept the touch of her mind, and communicate in return.
Sweeping over the capital, she felt growing resistance. The palace was shielded, making it difficult to penetrate. Sentinels assigned to the king’s service monitored that space, ready to intervene should any mind draw close enough to pose a threat.
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She avoided the palace and swept instead toward the inn where her company had stayed, where a bright cluster of gifted minds beckoned. Each was slightly different, glowing in her mind-sight with varying hues.
Spotting the one she wanted, she closed the distance and touched it. A second later, it responded and the connection solidified.
Who is this? Ruggiero asked, his mindvoice cautious.
Wayra. I have new orders.
His relief flowed back through the connection. We arrived two days ago, his thought raced down the link, conveying pride at their rapid journey.
You must leave immediately. Return to Il’Aicharen with all speed.
He could not shield his surprise or his anger. I don’t understand.
She couldn’t allow his valid frustration to interfere. Do not question. Matters have changed and the enclave itself is now a target. It is at risk, and the enemy is on the move.
What? Anger gave way to surprise.
We have little time. The enemy is trying to block communication, so it is dangerous to mindlink over any distance. Just obey, and be wary. The road may not be safe.
We will leave at once. Should I notify the king?
After a pause, she said, No, I will deal with that. Obey and go with all speed. This is the moment we have trained for.
I will not fail you, he said, his mindvoice strong and filled with confidence.
She cut the connection. When she returned to her own body, she sagged by the fire, exhausted. Thyra brought her a towel for her face and a canteen of icy water while she caught her breath.
After drinking deep, Wayra said, “We ride for Il’Aicharen at first light.”
# # #
“Come,” King Leszek called. He put down the parchment he had been reading and leaned back in the overstuffed chair behind the mahogany desk in his study.
“Sentinel Hathor,” the page announced.
Hathor, dressed in sentinel white, entered the room. He was of average height and build, but King Leszek could not hazard a guess at his age. He appeared to be in his fifties, but he had served House Dalagan for the past half-century, so he had to be far older than that. Hathor oversaw the three sentinels assigned to the palace, responsible for security and magical defenses.
“Welcome, my friend,” King Leszek said. “What brings you here tonight?”
Hathor approached with a grave expression. “I have news of Wayra’s party.”
“Good. She’s been lax of late.”
“It appears there is some threat to the enclave of Il’Aicharen.”
The king sat forward, surprised. “What type of threat?”
“I know nothing specific, but I believe the warning to be credible. Apparently Master Sentinel Harafin is involved, and it is he who identified the danger.”
“Harafin? He should be in Tamera. Does the ruling council know what’s going on?”
The thought disturbed King Leszek far more than he could reveal. If the emperor learned the truth, everything Leszek had worked toward would be destroyed.
Hathor shrugged. “My information is sketchy, but it seems Harafin is also hunting Antigonus. There appear to be enemy forces at large in Hallvarr, and they pose a direct threat to Il’Aicharen.”
“I find that hard to believe,” King Leszek said. “We have a company of kestrels from Il’Aicharen here in Diodor, do we not?”
“We do.”
“Send for them. They must know something.”
Hathor nodded and withdrew. King Leszek rang a tiny gong on his desk. A servant entered the room.
“Send for Tekla,” the king instructed.
Half an hour later, the grizzled commander arrived and they took seats by the fire.
“How may I serve?” Tekla asked.
“We may have a problem.” The king related to the commander what he knew.
Tekla frowned. “It is difficult to make the right decision with so little information.”
“I know.” The king drummed the arm of his chair. “Everything’s falling apart. We can’t lose it. We are too close.”
A knock at the door interrupted them. “I wish not to be disturbed,” the king called, but the door opened and the servant intruded fearfully.
The young man bowed low. “Pardon, my liege, but I was told this cannot wait.”
“Very well, but let whoever disturbs me know they bear responsibility if they waste my time lightly.”
The man nodded and exited as fast as propriety would allow.
A few seconds later, a tall soldier in mud-splattered clothing entered the room. His face haggard and unshaven, he banged his fist to his heart in salute.
“What is it?” the king demanded.
“My king, I bear grave news. The northern village of Condurso was attacked yesterday at dawn by a large force of makrasha and shadeleeches. They left only a handful of survivors.”
The king shared a startled glance with Tekla. “Are you sure?”
The soldier nodded. “My patrol was operating in the area and stumbled upon a survivor fleeing through the woods. We found the village destroyed. Some of the villagers put up a fight. We saw the corpses of two makrasha.”
“How is it possible?” King Leszek turned to stare into the fire, his mind whirling as he considered the information and tried to match it with the intelligence he had received from Hathor. Events were moving too fast, and nothing was proceeding as he had been led to believe.
One thought became clear though, as mounting anger burned away doubt and confusion.
“I have been betrayed. Tekla, the time has come to act before all descends into chaos. Mobilize our forces across the kingdom. Issue a general call to arms. Assemble the Outriders.”
Even as Tekla saluted, the door was thrown open and Hathor strode in, ignoring the protests of the page outside.
“My king, the kestrels from Il’Aicharen are gone. They left the city not half an hour ago and took the road toward Il’Aicharen at full gallop.”
“Then it is true.”
“It appears so.”
The king turned back to Tekla and placed a hand on the old commander’s shoulder. ““Rouse the kingdom. You will ride north with a column of outriders and three Jagen Stalwarts.” He glanced over at Hathor, adding, “A sentinel will accompany you. Track down that band of makrasha and destroy them. I ride at first light for Il'Aicharen with the rest of the outriders.”
“I swear it will be done.” Tekla saluted before spinning on his heel and striding from the room.
“Hathor, prepare your sentinels to ride.”
“What is going on, my liege?”
The king grimaced. “A time of trial and testing is upon us. Fire and sword is unleashed in my kingdom, and I will see it stamped out.”
After Hathor took his leave, King Leszek glanced at his house banner above the fire. “My rule will not end this way. Time to spin the Wheel.”