10

Walking came with great difficulty, as he knew that it would. The surgeons had worked to bolster his pectoral muscle mass and reinforce his rib cage, but only so much could be done. Theop’s legs moved with their normal strength as he paced through the antechamber to his sleeping quarters, but the crest of wings at his back skewed his balance. It took a fair amount of control to keep the wings from flapping against each other. He had fallen on his face enough times already. Power should not be so cumbersome, but he would persevere in order to keep it.

Detar stood in a corner on the antechamber’s far side, watching Theop stagger across the room. Detar still wore his black uniform, sword still belted at his side. He kept his arms folded over his chest, watching Theop’s progress. He never commented on the failed attempts, but he was always there to aid him after each fall, obviously concerned over his health and dusting him off. Theop knew this was a time to maintain appearances. Detar was one of his most trusted men, almost like a father to him, and he was loath to show weakness in front of one of the few people he admired.

The sheer potential of the wings in themselves was baffling. Was this how an erman felt at all times? He yearned to control the flows of aether soaking into his body, ached to master his new appendages. No, of course the ermen would not feel this way; they only had two wings. They could not understand the raw power within him. The ability to wield aether instead of bleeding himself dry was remarkable. He could draw much more power through wings with such ease and without cost.

He focused, exhaled. Six wings spread wide behind him, and aether swelled within him in response. Stretching alone gave him enough power to summon a deathflare if he chose. And he could live to speak of it after! The wings even felt as though they magnified each other so that he could drink in more potential than any three ermen separately. With so much energy locked within his body, he wondered how much of Garenesh he could destroy with a single action.

Theop slowly walked to the high balcony that extended from the antechamber’s eastern window. He sagged forward and planted his hands on the railing, exhausted even with the short walk. A moment later, and Detar’s shadow loomed at his side, though the man stood back and said nothing. Low and to the south, Theop saw the gleaming ceiling of the central train station, lit from the inside by lanterns and lamp posts. Even from this distance, he knew he could destroy the building and everyone within it. Rather, he could if he could master the flow of aether.

Detar finally took a step forward with hands clasped behind his back and stood next to Theop. Theop had known Detar since his childhood, and Detar had been middle-aged even then. “Are you feeling well, my lord?” Detar asked.

I said I would not show weakness in front of him, Theop thought. He did not fear heights as some did, but he still clutched the balcony railing in a tight grip. It was not the fear of heights that put him on edge, but rather the thought that an errant shift in his wings could make him lose control again and this time spill him over the edge to the ground below. Any involuntary movement now could be disastrous. “Yes, friend,” Theop said, voice hoarse. Detar’s concern was genuine, he knew. It was comforting that someone cared for him and respected him for reasons other than the fear of his station. “Having thoughts to myself, I suppose.”

Detar frowned and took a step back from the railing. “You seem tense,” he said. “I think this may not be the best place to stand. I would hate to see anything befall you.”

“In that, you are right,” Theop said. It took great conscious effort, but Theop released his hold on the railing and stepped away. The top wings—the brown ones with flecks of black in the feathers—tensed in response. Theop paused, inhaled deeply, and willed them to relax. When they complied, he released his breath and slowly stepped away from the balcony, moving awkwardly back to the antechamber floor. Detar moved smoothly, entering behind him and closing the balcony doors.

Theop closed his eyes and forced himself not to tremble.

“Progress, my lord?”

Theop sighed, chuckling softly. “It is difficult,” he said. “I am learning, but I have to teach myself.” He held out his right hand, willing a small blue flame to burn in the palm. “Erman aether is alien to everything I’ve learned through blood magic. As bloodmages, we have some control over the spell once it is cast, but then it runs its course and dies once the fuel is spent.”

Of course Detar would know the basic workings of blood magic, but he nodded anyway.

Theop continued, maintaining the flame over his palm. “Yet with aether, spells can be altered even after they are cast.” The flame in his hand grew, pulsing, expanding. Colors streaked now over the surface—black, blue, red, green, repeating. To alter a spell in such ways with blood magic would require more blood. The flame swelled into an orb larger than his head.

Detar stood in the flame’s light, unflinching. He was obviously confident in Theop’s abilities, and Theop would not let him down.

Shadows danced across the room as the striated flame spun over his hand. “I can even split the spell,” he said as the ball divided into smaller twin copies. He lifted his left hand, and one drifted over to that palm. “Their spells also have no need to run their full course.” The balls merged back into one, and Theop flung the fire toward the oaken doors of his bedchamber in one rapid motion. Detar did take a step backward at that, but Theop severed his link with the flame before it made impact, causing it to vanish abruptly, inches from the door. “Blood magic,” Theop said, “would have destroyed the door unless I cast another spell to divert it, in which case it still would have smashed into the wall. Aether is truly amazing.”

“You seem to have an understanding of the principles,” Detar said.

Theop folded his wings against his back. Perhaps six wings had been overambitious, but the power they brought was worth the difficulty in movement. He would learn aether and regain his mobility. His determination would drive Serana.

“I wish I did,” Theop said. “It’s like knowing you can turn a huge slab of stone into a statue, and then attempting with no lessons and bare hands.”

“A grave task then, indeed,” Detar said. “A pity the Edarians escaped.” He brushed an idle hand over his sword’s hilt. The adviser had been particularly troubled by that escape.

“It is. Even more alarming that they did not give away their secrets under the attention of our bloodmages. Perhaps I should have taken a more direct hand in their questioning.”

“You think we should try to capture another one?”

“We could attempt it, but too many problems would arise. We would not be able to restrain an erman without removing their wings again, and I’d rather avoid that if we could. We are already under the Sentinels’ scrutiny since those three did not sign the registries when the rest of the ermen returned to Edaria on the night of the escapes.”

“I see.”

Theop sagged and sat on a heavily padded stool. Chairs were difficult with the wings, even the low-backed or split-backed chairs designed for ermen. He wondered wearily if he would ever be able to sit comfortably again. Detar stood before him, hands behind his back, head tilted downward.

“Do you remember the story my father told me, Detar? Before the end?”

Detar nodded. “I was there with you, and I was there with him when his tale happened.”

“And?” Theop asked. “Was his telling accurate? It was nearly thirty years ago now, but I never forgot it.”

“You have to understand that his mind was slipping, my lord. However, I still don’t know exactly what happened, so it would be impossible for me to refute his words.”

“How do you remember it, then?”

Detar coughed into his fist before starting. “There was a skirmish along the border with Chasar. We feared it would devolve into war, but we were also going to protect our lands. The dispute was over a small town, and we didn’t expect to have to send a large presence. A battalion could have handled the situation, so we sent two thousand, maybe twenty-five hundred men with perhaps fifteen bloodmages.”

Theop nodded. “And you weren’t with them?”

“No,” Detar said. “I was nearby, with your father. The plan was to have the soldiers move in, crush any resistance, secure the perimeter, and then your father would go into the town to sue for peace, and to remind these villagers that they were a part of the Seranian Empire.

“However, we never saw fighting. The soldiers simply moved into the town to no response. Your father and I waited with his retainers for several hours before a messenger returned from the soldiers, telling us that the village had been abandoned—it was a ghost town. We were preparing to go into the village ourselves to at least perform our own investigation.”

“And then the killing began?”

“Yes, my lord. There was an explosion near dusk. Sounds of men fighting and dying. It looked like a bloodmage battle.”

“My father believed it was a group of ermen,” Theop said. “He thought the villagers had hired ermen to remain behind while they fled.”

“I can’t rule that out,” Detar said, “but there is nothing left of the village now. In the end, a series of deathflares scoured it away. We’d sent a dozen bloodmages in, and all were dead. We tried to create an outline of events later, but there’s no way to know. Yes, your father believed there were ermen—claimed to have seen them—but I can’t attest to that myself. I think it more likely that Chasar had left a few bloodmages lurking in the village for a surprise attack.”

“My father said he saw an erman in the distance. At least one, but it must have been more.”

“My lord,” Detar said. “You must remember that your father was on his deathbed when he told you that story. I can’t dispute the events that he told you about, but his mind was going. I think maybe he dreamed that version. Ermen don’t involve themselves in our wars. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“And yet the ermen have that power, do they not?”

It looked as though Detar might sigh, but he apparently caught himself. “They do. We know they would have been able to do it. I don’t have it in me to claim that it was definitively a group of ermen, though. Again, it was as likely a squadron of bloodmages with surprise on their side.”

Theop sat in silence, then leaned forward and laced his fingers together, looking up. “Any reports from the trains?” The discussion over his father’s memory was over.

Detar nodded, seemingly eager to finally offer good news. “General Hibranth made his report earlier today. Bloodmage Captain Ferrak and a retainer of three soldiers boarded the train after the two ermen, or at least Captain Ferrak thinks they were the ones. Hibranth said a third person boarded with them, as well.”

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Theop’s eyebrows raised. “The third erman? No, wait, you said the two ermen and someone else.”

“Yes, my lord,” Detar said. “It was not the third erman. She was female anyway, so definitely not a Sentinel.”

“A woman?”

“Yes. No wings, so we assume she is a human.”

“Strange,” Theop said. “Do we know who she is?”

Detar shifted weight from his right leg to his left. The man only ever fidgeted when he feared he would disappoint Theop or when the truth would be unacceptable. Would he lie? He looked uncertain and rarely hesitated with answers. “No, my lord,” he said.

A lie, then.

Theop did not press the matter. If she had been important, Detar would not have lied. There was little that a lone human could do, at any rate. “I see,” he said. “Where are they going?”

“Lieve.”

“To the Portal, you think?”

“Perhaps,” Detar said. “It is also possible that they simply took the first available train out of the city, and at least seven other destinations have Portals.”

“Disturbing that they are heading toward Edaria,” Theop said. “Although I suppose all points are virtually the same distance through Portals.”

“Should we make preparations for travel to Lieve?” Detar asked.

Theop stood, sweeping across the room to the balcony doors again. He did not open them this time, instead settling on looking over the city at a safer distance than before. “No,” he said.

“Sire?”

“Alert Lieve to the ermen presence. As for those stationed in Garenesh and nearby forts, it is time to turn our attention eastward.”

—

With muscles tensed, Caru turned the handle of the door leading onto the caboose’s open rear deck. Rain had started again a short while ago, but it already had swollen into a weak storm. Air currents along the body of the train kept rain from soaking the deck, but the floorboards still shone brightly in the lightning flashes. Faint light flickered across the deck from the mounted lantern.

He leaned beside the door rather than propping himself against the railing along the opposite side. Too easy to be ambushed with his back exposed like that. He folded his arms over his chest and waited patiently, enjoying the rock and rumble of the train.

The wind whipping across the open deck and through his hair reminded him of the open skies, wings extended, letting breezes rush over his feathers and feeling the rush of aether flooding his body. Twin flows of wind and aether harmonized as a beautiful song within himself, but now…

Now the wind whispered gently in his ears, notes rather than chords. He closed his eyes in an attempt to savor the melody, awaiting his meeting with Martel Moonshroud. Caru wondered if it was wise to leave Kimke and Mieta in the cabin, but the note had said to come alone, and Kimke seemed to trust him. Yet that still left them exposed.

Caru patted down his sleeves and adjusted his vest. Still a few minutes to midnight.

He didn’t want to be away when Martel appeared, so he steeled himself and remained propped against the wall. The women would be fine. If not, he would see to it that they became fine and make anyone else regret their involvement. No. No, they were safe. They were locked behind the cabin door. Even as far back as he was, he knew he would hear signs of a struggle if the struggle involved smashing a door in. Thunder roared in the distance, and Caru wondered if that was true. Someone would hear, though. If men beat at a cabin door with screaming occupants, someone would come investigate. Surely the threat of outside involvement would stop anyone from making a scene.

Yet that involvement wouldn’t necessarily play in his favor. Involvement meant people would start asking questions that he didn’t want to answer yet.

Caru shook his head. No, the women would be fine. They had to be.

The door’s handle shook before the door cracked open, allowing a wide figure onto the deck. Martel lingered for a moment before crossing the deck, where he stood at the rear railing. With fingers laced together, he leaned over and rested on it, looking outward to the disappearing landscape at the train’s rear. He slumped his shoulders a bit, then looked over his right shoulder to Caru.

“This rain is unsettling, isn’t it?” he said.

Caru stepped forward cautiously, still standing a pace behind the large man. He saw why Mieta thought Martel was shorter than he was. The width was misleading, but the man stood nearly as tall as Caru himself.

“What do you mean?” Caru asked.

“The moons. I don’t like thick cloud cover because it means I can’t see, either. I like knowing what they’re doing, what they look like. I want to know where Rythellas is.” He said the last part quietly, barely audible over the rain pattering against the caboose canopy.

Wrapping his hands around the railing, Caru leaned forward and looked skyward. Martel was right; not being able to see the open sky was unsettling. For two long weeks, he had made silent prayers to the wandering moon, hoping it would give him the strength needed to escape confinement. Rythellas may have been the reason he had been imprisoned in the first place, but it had come through for him in the end. Even without his wings, Rythellas had seen to it that he could again have the wind’s fingers in his hair.

“I think we both owe much to that moon, yes?” Martel said.

“We do,” Caru said after a moment.

“I’m taking a huge risk meeting you here, you know,” Martel said. “I really want to trust my instincts here, but for all I know, you and the black-haired woman are Seranian agents.”

Rain caught in eddies in the wind, droplets sometimes rebounding to pelt Caru’s face. He wiped water away from his eyes, turning to study Martel, to really pay attention to the man. He looked back with slightly wider eyes than Caru had expected. Was the man really that afraid?

“There’s nothing to worry about there,” Caru said. “You, me, and Kimke, we’re the same.”

Martel grinned. “You got her name out of her, at least,” he said.

“Yours, too, Gault. She said your name is Martel Moonshroud. She said you’re a Sentinel, that you were drinking with her the night you were captured. She…said you have nice shoulders.”

At that, Martel turned to face the receding rails and laughed into the open. “I knew she touched them more often than one who was just being friendly.” He turned and leaned back on the car’s railing. “I still haven’t heard her vouch for you, though. She didn’t seem to be in more distress than I would have expected, but at least show me your back.”

Caru shrugged before turning. He removed his vest and then pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, revealing his back to Martel. Twin scars extended beneath Caru’s shoulder blades where a separate set of bones would have rested, supporting wings.

“Fair enough,” Martel said. “You’ve known horror, and now we’re in this together.”

Relief washed over Caru in such a rush that he feared he might collapse. A grin spread over his face, and he stifled a laugh. “I thought we’d never find you,” Caru said. “Certainly not here, of all places.”

Martel nodded. “I tried going to the embassy, but it was lousy with Seranian guards. Every street within two blocks had them out and about, trying to look casual. The sheer number, though… I thought about trying, anyway, but I didn’t know if they had my picture.”

“We thought about going there,” Caru said. “I went to the Trade Plaza first, and that’s where I found Kimke. We thought about a few possibilities, but Mieta found me the morning after my escape and said she could get me out. Others, too, if I brought them. She’s running with us.”

“Mieta,” Martel said. “So she’s human?”

“She is. Got captured when she saw them taking me, and they had her under supervision at the armory since then. When I left, she took the opportunity and followed me.”

“You trust her?” Martel asked.

Caru hesitated a moment, considering. “I do.”

“And Kimke?”

“She had her doubts, but Mieta’s held good on her end so far.”

“Well, it’s usually hard to get Kimke’s approval, so I’ll take her word for it.”

Caru took the note from his pocket and unfolded it. “Your note said something about eyes on our backs?”

Martel nodded. “I recognized men from the Seranian military while I was there. They were dressed in civilian clothing, but I could tell they were looking for someone. I watched them until I saw Kimke in the crowd, but I wasn’t going to shout her name or draw attention to myself. When I saw you get in line for Lieve, I went to the ticket counter and paid all the money I could scrounge off the streets to get on. I was at the back of the line, and I saw those men get on this train as well. I’ve met one of them a few times before, a bloodmage captain. Ferrak. He’s known as a damn good mage. I don’t know the others with him, but they look like they take gravel with their meals.”

“You know a lot of people from the Seranian military?” Caru asked.

“Like Kimke said, I’m a Sentinel,” Martel said. “Was a Sentinel, at any rate. Lieutenant, First Class. Sworn to protect ermen everywhere, and then I find myself stripped of power in the capital of a supposed allied nation. Sickening.” He spat over the railing, and saliva sailed into the darkness. “By the way,” he added, “what’s your name?”

“Caru.”

“Nice to meet you, Caru,” Martel said.

“Likewise. Hail, Sentinel.”

A smile cracked Martel’s face before he laughed into the darkness. Distant lightning flashed again, lighting his face for a moment. “I think I’ll have to get used to hailing Sentinels myself from now on. Either that, or I join up with a human army somewhere. Not the Seranians, that’s for sure.” He spat again. “I may not have wings, but I still know which end of the spear to put in someone.”

“I hope I can find a use for myself like this as well,” Caru said.

“Perhaps, but I want what was taken from me. Answers, too.”

Caru nodded. Having answers would make for a nice start. But no, there was only darkness. Land behind the train faded into darkness, but his own fate ahead was still mired in that same darkness. No predictions, only flashes of light.

“Those military men,” Caru said after a pause, “do they know you’re on the train or who you are?”

“No,” Martel said. He paused. “I hope not.”

“We’ll split up then. If we stay together much longer, we’ll risk you getting noticed, too. We probably won’t be able to stay in Lieve for very long.”

“No, we won’t. There’s a garrison there, and I’m sure Ferrak has orders to alert them as soon as we arrive. That might take a while, though, so we might be able to get out if we’re fast enough. We’re heading west already, and I do like the idea of being beneath Cirellias again. I hate to leave Kimke longer than I have to, but I’ll be close behind if anything does happen.”

“We’ll meet outside the western gate then,” Caru said. “I’ll leave a scrap of blue cloth on a stick on the side of the road to mark our location.”

Martel nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for it, then. Hopefully we’ll be together again soon. Until then, be careful, friend. Go back in now, and I’ll wait here a moment. I’ll watch to make sure nothing surprises you.”

Caru returned to his cabin unharmed. The women were safe, eagerly awaiting his return. He told them what had happened and told them of the plan. Kimke mostly hated it, but she agreed that it might draw too much attention in a town as large as Lieve if they were all traveling together. It hopefully wouldn’t take long before she was reunited with Martel again.

The feeling in the cabin was anxious, but exhaustion finally claimed them. Caru took his bed on the bottom and drifted off quickly, content that at least one thing had fallen into place.