After ten minutes of frantic activity, the troop stood assembled and ready. With the power of the kestrels augmenting their gifts, Leander and Indira performed miraculous healings so that every man still living could ride.
Nikias emerged from the hospital tent looking worn, with none of his customary swagger. Drystan pulled the young Bladestaff bearer aside and spoke with him for a few minutes. At one point, Nikias started, a look of glee flitting across his face. Eventually Drystan placed a hand on his shoulder and the younger man nodded.
“What was that all about?” Kevlin asked Drystan after the two had separated.
“I explained a few things to him.” At Kevlin’s quizzical look, he added, “Trust me.”
They left the shattered fort and headed north. Indira swayed in her saddle, so exhausted that it looked like she might fall. Ceren moved to her side and rode close, one steadying hand on her shoulder. The young noblewoman met Kevlin's gaze, but her eyes looked troubled and she turned away.
When they reached the outer edge of the clearing, a couple of sentinels turned back and raised their hands. A thunderclap pealed, and a dense pall of smoke billowed out of the fort.
“A fitting pyre for those beasts,” Leander said.
Kevlin urged his mount up beside Jerrik, who rode just behind Drystan, frowning.
“Why are you in such a foul mood?” Kevlin asked. “I thought a good fight always cheered you up.”
Jerrik grunted. “Aye, that part was good.”
“He’s just angry he lost,” Drystan explained.
Jerrik squeezed the reins till the corded muscles of his arms stood out sharply under the skin, but said nothing.
“Lost?” Kevlin repeated. “But we won.”
“It’s not fair,” Jerrik muttered.
“Stop moping,” Gabral called from where he rode beside Harafin. “You’re the one who agreed to the wager, and you lost.”
“Well, didn’t you both reach the center of the fort at the same time?”
“Aye,” Jerrik said. “Exactly the same time.”
“Your casualties were higher,” Gabral said in a long-suffering tone, as if they’d argued the point more than once already.
“What were they?” Kevlin asked, fighting to keep a straight face.
“Three dead and eight wounded in my company,” Drystan said.
“Five dead and six wounded in mine," Jerrik growled.
“Drystan wins,” Gabral declared.
Drystan smiled, while Jerrik muttered a curse. "It's not fair. The numbers weren’t different enough to really matter."
Leander asked, "How many lives would you consider enough to 'really matter'?"
Jerrik opened his mouth to reply, but frowned. With a growl, he looked down at his hands still clenching the reins.
"Hold on a minute," said Kevlin. "Was there an agreement on what 'casualty' meant?"
"What do you mean?" asked Gabral.
"Well, casualty can mean both dead and wounded. I believe that's how you used it after our battle in Baldev."
"So?"
"So," Kevlin continued, "if you total up the dead and wounded together as the casualty count. . .”
Jerrik's face lit with understanding. "We both have eleven casualties!"
Gabral groaned. "Fine. It’s a draw."
Jerrik grinned at Drystan. "Looks like you don't get off the hook so easy after all, brother."
"I prefer to beat you man to man anyway."
Kevlin smiled. Jerrik’s use of ‘brother’ might have only been a slip of the tongue, but it was a sign that maybe he was coming around.
They pressed north through the morning, hands close to weapons. Two of the sentinels rode strapped to their saddles while their minds soared above the company, linked to hawks and using the birds’ senses to spy out the road ahead.
They covered several miles at a steady canter, but just as the sun finally slid into view over the rim of the cliff at noon, Harafin reined in. The trail split ahead, and one branch turned to ascend the steep cliff in a series of switchbacks that zigzagged all the way to the top.
Leaning far back in his saddle, Kevlin admired the route. If only he’d had that when he climbed up last time.
“Which way did they go?” Harafin asked Adalia. The tiny archer studied the trail for only a few seconds before pointing up the steep slope. Harafin frowned. “This is unexpected.”
“I assumed they’d run north for the highway, and try to escape through Diodor,” Wayra said. “Or turn west and make straight for the Tamerlane Sea. Why climb the cliff?”
The old sentinel’s brow furrowed, but it was Leander who spoke. “There is little to the east. Fiachra is the only large city in that direction, and Il’Aicharen lies northeast.”
Inhaling a sharp breath, Harafin hissed, “Il’Aicharen. It can’t be.”
“What?” Leander asked.
“I've just considered a terrible possibility, but the enclave is well defended. Tanathos could not hope to overcome there, even with a halimaw.”
Wayra coughed, staring at her feet and rubbing her hands on her skirt. “We, ah, may have a problem.”
“What problem?”
Gesturing at her company, she said, “We all came from Il’Aicharen. It is one of the kestrel centers.”
“I know,” Harafin said. “The battle prowess of your order is one of the things that comfort me. How many kestrels are still stationed there?”
“Well,” she said slowly, “when Antigonus contacted me, I ordered all the remaining kestrels in Il’Aicharen to make haste for Diodor. They have probably already arrived.”
“You left Il’Aicharen undefended? I can’t believe Rhisart approved your decision.”
Wayra refused to meet his gaze. “I ordered them away on my authority alone. I. . .haven’t spoken with Rhisart yet.”
Harafin turned to glance up the cliff. “Could Tanathos have known? Wayra, you may have doomed us all with your rash stupidity. If Tanathos knows Il’Aicharen is all but undefended, he could attack with impunity.”
“I don’t understand,” Wayra replied, trying not to cringe under Harafin’s angry glare. “What’s the danger?”
“Tanathos could murder Antigonus there.”
Turning his face toward the sky, he closed his eyes. The company silently watched as a silvery glow appeared around Harafin’s face.
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“What’s he doing?” Gabral asked.
“Mindlink,” Wayra said. “I believe he’s trying to reach the gerent of Il’Aicharen.”
Harafin suddenly cried out and his entire body convulsed. With eyes still closed, he pitched from his horse and fell twitching to the ground.
Leander reached him first. The old stalwart placed a glowing hand on his forehead. The sentinel gasped and sat up in one convulsive movement. His eyes popped open, and then he sagged back to the ground. As he tried to rise again, Leander held him down.
“Rest a while, my old friend.” Leander began chanting softly, his hands shining with pure white light. After a minute, he trailed off, and only then offered to help Harafin up.
“What happened?” Gabral asked.
“I fear I am right about Tanathos’ plans.” Harafin took a deep breath. “I tried to reach Rhisart, but triggered a web placed across this entire section of country. I was attacked.”
“Tanathos?” Kevlin asked.
“No, it was another shadeleech. I did not discover his name, but he was skilled.” He smiled ruefully. “He will not be troubling anyone else.”
“We should try to reach the gerent again,” Wayra said, her expression more pinched than normal. “With the united power of the kestrels, we could break through.”
“No, the web was extensive,” Harafin said. “It must be maintained by several shadeleeches. We cannot risk another attack.” He frowned. “We must move quickly. The fate of the empire hangs in the balance.”
“I still don’t understand the danger,” Wayra frowned. “Why does it matter where Tanathos kills Antigonus?”
Harafin scanned the group, and everyone bunched up close to hear. “What I share with you is knowledge held only by members of the high council, but I believe you need to understand the gravity of the threat we face.”
Kevlin shared a glance with Jerrik. The big man shrugged and eagerly turned back to Harafin.
“At the heart of Mount Il’Aicharen lies a node of power. Across the world only a few such places exist, nexuses where the energy of the very planet is concentrated. Should Tanathos murder Antigonus at the heart of the mountain, he would not only shatter the aegis protecting the empire from the Sigrun, but most likely destroy most of Hallvarr in one cataclysmic eruption.”
Kevlin wished he could convince himself that the old man was exaggerating. How could such a thing be possible? He could barely imagine it.
“Antigonus’ life is bound to Tia Khoa,” Harafin explained. “He is bearer. Should he be murdered at a node of power, Tia Khoa’s power would be shattered. The result would kill everyone within a hundred miles of the stone.”
Kevlin stared down at his boot in horror. No wonder Harafin was so worried. This was a nightmare, but there was one sure way out of it.
Tanathos had to die. Despite the terror Kevlin felt at the very mention of the shadeleech’s name, the solution seemed surprisingly simple.
“Wait a minute,” Wayra interrupted. “All of that death and destruction is tied to the risk of the bearer of Tia Khoa being murdered at a node of power, right?”
Harafin nodded.
“Then choose a new bearer. The steward is here with Tia Khoa, so Antigonus must have understood the danger.” Her eyes shone with excitement. She waved a hand toward her company of kestrels. “Choose one of us. Choose me.”
“Hold on a minute,” Kevlin began, but Harafin quieted him with a glance.
“Wayra is right,” Harafin said. “The risk is too great. Bring out Tia Khoa.”
Kevlin reluctantly cut the stitches holding the rune-covered bag under the flap of his boot and extracted it. While he did so, Harafin directed the soldiers back and ordered the kestrels to assemble in a semicircle close to him.
Kevlin dumped the rock into his palm. He automatically adjusted it so that his fingers curled over the rough edge. The emblem of the flaming sword glinted with flashes of blue light.
At the sight of the emblem, Wayra inhaled sharply. “The flaming sword.”
A murmur rippled through the kestrels.
Why am I always the only one with no idea what’s going on?
Kevlin stared down at the rock. Even though he’d always known his possession of it was temporary, he felt a wrenching feeling of loss at the thought of handing it over to someone else. The crystal flashed with light, drawing his gaze deep inside of it. His mind began to tumble, as if falling into the rock.
“Kevlin!” Harafin’s voice cracked across his thoughts like a slap to the face. He started and pulled his eyes from the emblem. The old sentinel's gaze lingered on him before he turned to the kestrels.
“I am the chooser,” he declared solemnly. “The responsibility of identifying the next bearer of Tia Khoa has been entrusted to me.”
Wayra smiled, her eyes never leaving the stone in Kevlin’s hand.
“But. . .” Harafin waited until he held their full attention. “Tia Khoa, not I, must make the final decision.”
Wayra frowned. “How is that possible?”
“You will understand if you are chosen.”
The old sentinel gestured her forward. “Approach the stone, but do not touch it.”
She advanced, one hand eagerly outstretched.
“Beware,” Harafin said sharply. “Do not touch it unless I tell you to.”
Wayra ignored him and snatched for the rock with an exultant look on her face.
Blinding blue light erupted from the stone and a jolt of power staggered Kevlin back a step. The blast flung Wayra ten feet. She crumpled to the ground in a ball, weeping.
Thyra, her second-in-command, rushed to her side and placed glowing hands on her shoulders. A moment later, she helped her leader roll over and sit up.
Wayra’s face was white from shock and pain, and she clutched a hand to her chest. Thyra pulled back the sleeve of Wayra’s robe to reveal her hand, blackened and twisted like a lightning-blasted tree.
Wayra stared at her mangled hand and wailed.
Indira pushed through the kestrels and dropped to her knees beside Wayra. Taking the injured hand in her own, she bent over it and began chanting.
Tia Khoa might have punished Wayra, but Kevlin felt an urge to run her through for attempting to take the stone. He glanced down at the rock, and surprisingly felt no fear for himself.
They all waited until Indira finished chanting. The young healer looked up with tears in her eyes. “I am sorry, but I cannot restore your hand.”
Wayra pushed her away, and she stumbled and fell. Kevlin growled and reached for his sword.
Leander crouched beside Wayra and spoke in a deadly soft voice. “Your folly is proven thrice over, and I will not save you from your own stupidity.” Leaning closer he added, “Should you lay hands on my ward again, I will execute you myself.”
Wayra cringed back, and Leander helped Indira to her feet.
“You are lucky the blast did not kill you,” Harafin said to Wayra, his tone disapproving. “The punishment for trying to take Tia Khoa by force varies, but is usually fatal. Be grateful for the opportunity to learn from your mistake.”
Wayra grimaced but said nothing. Hugging her withered hand to her chest, she began to sob.
To the other kestrels, Harafin said, “Now, who is next?”
When they pulled away fearfully, he nodded in approval. “Better. I had expected Wayra to understand. The choosing of a bearer is a multi-faceted process. One with sufficient power must be available, but they must also have a heart empty of greed, the intention only to serve and to protect. Usually we have more time to prepare candidates for a choosing.”
He glanced at Kevlin before repeating, “Who is next?”
“I will try,” Thyra offered. She approached Kevlin, but kept her hand by her side.
Harafin placed one palm on her forehead and held the other several inches above Tia Khoa. He closed his eyes and his hands began to glow with a soft green light.
After a moment, he reopened them with a shake of his head. Thyra breathed a sigh of obvious relief and withdrew. In like manner, each of the kestrels approached, and in like manner they were all rejected.
“What now?” Gabral asked when the last of them backed away.
Kevlin gripped the rock harder, barely hiding a triumphant smile. They hadn’t taken it from him, and he wasn’t surprised. They weren’t supposed to have it yet. He had no idea how he knew that, but he did.
“Take it to Diodor,” Wayra suggested. Her face was drawn and streaked with tears, and her unnaturally large eyes looked haunted. She still clasped the blackened hand to her chest. “Take the stone to Diodor and choose Ah’Shan. He’s the rightful bearer.”
“We need to chase Tanathos,” Kevlin argued. “He’s not far ahead. We can catch him.”
“You’d leave the empire shattered and defenseless?” Wayra demanded angrily.
“It won’t be if we kill Tanathos.”
“If Tanathos sees he cannot reach the heart of the mountain,” Leander said, “he may kill Antigonus anyway.”
“Not if we kill Tanathos first,” Kevlin repeated.
“Enough.” Harafin held up a hand for silence. “Events are moving too fast and the fate of the empire hangs in the balance.”
He glanced again at Kevlin and then down at Tia Khoa. “The path of darkness,” he muttered.
“Uh, you’re being cryptic again,” Drystan remarked.
Harafin shot him such a withering glare that even the normally indomitable Einarri captain backed away.
Harafin said, “Wayra, take your kestrels north as fast as you can ride. When you are close enough, call to your force in Diodor and order them back to Il’Aicharen with all speed. Ah’Shan as well, if he has arrived. Warn King Leszek of the danger.”
“Shouldn’t we escort the steward to Diodor?” she asked. “If all else fails, Ah’Shan could take up the stone. That would kill Antigonus but avert the disaster.”
“Wait a minute,” Kevlin said. “What do you mean, it’d kill Antigonus?”
“Kevlin rides with me,” Harafin said before answering. “Once a new bearer is chosen, Antigonus’ life will be forfeit.”
Kevlin hugged the rock close to his chest. “Then no one gets another chance to take it. I’m giving it back to Antigonus.”
“It is not your place to decide,” Harafin said.
“I’m the steward,” Kevlin replied defiantly. “So I get a say.”
Gabral reached for the Mace. “We can find another steward.”
“Try it.”
“Relax,” Harafin said. “There will be no choosing today. Wayra, you are to ride to Il’Aicharen after reaching the highway. Push on with all speed, for time is against us.”
“We will.”
“Watch for halimaw.”
“We are trained to fight them, but the one you saw is with Tanathos.”
“Be cautious nonetheless,” Harafin said. “Tanathos has proven wily and dangerous, so do not underestimate him. The rest of us will pursue Tanathos. It is possible I am wrong, so I will not lose the trail. With good fortune, we will overtake him and rescue Antigonus.”
“I will ride with you,” Nikias declared.
“King Leszek ordered you to ride with me,” Wayra protested.
“No, he ordered me to save Antigonus, so I ride with Kevlin.”
Harafin surveyed the company, his eyes settling for a moment on Nikias and then Gabral. “Strength and Cunning,” he muttered. His gaze moved to Ceren, then Kevlin, and then to Jerrik and Drystan.
“Nikias rides with us,” he declared.
“Fine,” Wayra said, and with no more farewell, she led her troop north, past the point where the path turned up the cliff.
The two sentinels at the front of the party raised glowing fists. An invisible force smashed trees and brush aside, and the soil flowed back to cover the holes, producing a wide path over which the sentinels galloped north along the base of the cliff.
They disappeared in a moment.
Harafin turned toward the cliff. “Come, we must hurry.”
He led the way up.