Page 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“I fucking hate creek beds,” I declare for the umpteenth time. The past week has been an ordeal of the worst kind. Either I’m being slapped in the face by tree branches on game trails that barely exist, or I’m tramping through rocks in a dry creek. Somehow, nobody ever told me that dry creek beds aren’t smooth. Oh, no. They’re full of horrible little pebbles and fist-sized stones that are perfect for turning an ankle on. It’s rarely clear enough for us to even ride without risking the horses, so we’ve been walking on the bastards, and I swear, I can feel the imprint of the stones in the soles of my feet. These boots used to be sturdy, but they’re no match for a godsdamned creek bed.

That’s not even taking into account the number of times we’ve had to stop to clear stones out of the horses’ hooves. Sweetie no longer hates me—she’s pathetically grateful that I exist to wield the hoofpick.

“I wish there was water in this creek,” Arimen complains. “That way, we could build a raft and float to the city.”

Huh. That’s smart. “Is there ever water in this creek? Or did it dry up a long time ago?”

Jaimin purses his lips and glances around. “I can’t say for sure, but I think if it had dried up permanently, there’d be more growth in it, considering how brushy and wooded the hills are. My guess is that there’ll be water here when the rainy season starts.”

I try to remember when the rainy season is in this part of the world. Early spring, I think. Which means we’re damn lucky right now, because in just a few weeks, this creek might be flooded with water.

Coryn catches my eye, and I can see from his face that he’s thinking the same thing. “Let’s push on,” he suggests. “It’s too rocky for camping here. Maybe we can find a clear space on the bank somewhere.” Out of the creek is left unsaid, but I understand it just fine.

We scrabble through the rocks for another hour, and then Arimen says, “Does it seem brighter up ahead?”

I perk up. The hills and trees block out a lot of light, so brightness means a gap of some kind—or so I’ve learned over the past few days.

“I believe you may be close to the city,” Leicht observes. “It’s hard to be certain, as I can’t see you clearly.”

I debate whether or not to send up a beacon that will show him exactly where we are, but ultimately decide against it. It’s not important that he know right now, and anyone else in the area could see it and also know where we are. Which, if they’re bandits or soldiers, would be bad. If they’re zombies, it would be disastrous. Arimen hasn’t yet been subjected to any kind of fight, other than the day we met. For him, this journey has been a ride through the country, camping, and a lot of talking. I can’t even say if he noticed the discomfort, since he’s so determined to see the bright side of everything. As glad as I am that we haven’t encountered the enemy for weeks, it does mean that we still don’t know how he’ll react in battle. So there’s no need to bring an unnecessary one down on our heads.

I angle myself closer to Jaimin and keep my voice low. No need to get everyone’s hopes up. “Leicht thinks we might be close,” I murmur.

He gives a quick nod of encouragement. “Close enough to reach it before nightfall?”

We both look up at the sky through the tree branches reaching over the creek. It’s still daylight, but not as bright as it was earlier. The day is waning.

“I hope so.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, the gods seem to be listening to me, because within fifteen minutes the trees are noticeably thinner. We stop to assess.

“If there was a large group of people there, especially bandits, I’d know by now,” Jaimin asserts. “People who live in hiding aren’t usually in the best of health.”

“What if they have a healer with them?” Arimen asks. “Someone who?—”

“I’d still know they were there,” Jaimin interjects firmly. “Healer or not, if there were more than five people within half a mile of here, I’d know.”

“So no more than a handful of people, if there’s anyone at all,” Coryn concludes. “That’s good. I’ll still go first, and I’ll be ready. Arimen, what’s your job if we’re attacked?”

“Grab the horses and get out of the way,” he replies promptly. “And take orders from Jaimin and Talon.”

I shoot Coryn a grateful smile. “We could stand around and talk all day, but we’re just wasting daylight. I’d like to look around the city before night falls. Leicht is circling overhead and says it doesn’t look like anyone’s been there for a long time, save maybe some random travelers.”

Coryn nods, drawing his sword. “Let’s go, then. Arimen, lead my horse, please.”

Arimen obediently takes the reins to Coryn’s big warhorse, pausing to pet his nose, and then we set off, following Coryn along the creek.

Walking over the rocks, trying to be quiet, it takes us almost half an hour before we can clearly see the opening in the trees and the lake beyond.

“That has to be it, right?” I murmur to Jaimin. “There wouldn’t be another lake, would there?” Even as the question leaves my mouth, I realize how stupid it is. Of course there’s more than one lake in these hills. Leicht even told me he’d seen several during his reconnoitering.

But there’s only one with a city built on the shores, and only one with the Hepalt River running from it to the ocean.

“And you’re approaching it,” Leicht says dryly. “I can see you now.”

I glance up, and sure enough, through the thinning canopy I can see Leicht high above us. Jaimin follows my gaze and smiles.

“This is it, then.” He whistles softly to get Coryn’s attention and then gestures in Leicht’s direction. Coryn, who just two nights ago tried to convince me that rivers always run to oceans, even if that means going uphill, somehow immediately comprehends the nonverbal message. I guess his intelligence is so focused in this particular skill set that he has no room to take in other things. He makes up for it with how sweet he is, though.

He reaches the edge of the trees, pauses, then steps out into the full winter sun and approaches the edge of the creek. Would that be a waterfall in the rainy season? How beautiful that would be—a view from the city of waterfalls cascading into the lake. No wonder they decided to build?—

“All clear,” he calls softly. “If anybody’s here, they’re in the city and lying low.”

Sighing with relief, I hand Sweetie’s reins to Jaimin and join Coryn. What I see makes my jaw drop.

“Wow.”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it? Even all falling down like that.” We stare at the city to our left. There are a few scattered buildings as close as a hundred yards along the shore, but the bulk of the stone and wood city is a few hundred yards beyond. The deep blue waters of the lake lap at a stone wall along the waterfront, with buildings rising into the hills beyond. It’s lovely, and I feel a surprising pang of sadness as I think of how it must have been when that waterfront was lined with boats and vendors and people, with pleasure craft skimming the lake. Now, as Coryn said, it’s all falling down, and the only sounds come from the birds and the quiet lap of water against stone.

Speaking of… I look down at the lake by my feet. The surface of the water is only six or eight inches below the creek bed. “Would you say it’s been a particularly wet winter in these parts?” I ask.

Coryn shakes his head. “Not that I’ve heard. I haven’t heard the regional weather reports since I left the barracks at Lenledia, but nobody mentioned anything about it being wet here before then.”

I nod. Not waterfalls, then—at least, not from this creek. It’s more likely that during the wet season, the lake water rises and floods into the creek, running back the way we came. In other words, it’s a good thing we didn’t dawdle.

“Okay. How do we get from here to the city?” I was hoping for a nice beach to stroll along, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Scratching his chin, Coryn says, “There’s probably a road or at least a path from one of those houses.” He points to the one nearest us. “We’ll need to cut through the trees to get there, though. I was hoping we’d be able to walk along the lake’s edge, but the footing doesn’t look safe for horses.”

Studying the trees, I sigh. Even thinned out here, the underbrush is overgrown. I guess he means “cut” literally.

Wonderful.

We call the others up to join us, and then Coryn takes charge. He takes the axe we use for cutting big branches into little ones for firewood, and he begins hacking through the trees and undergrowth. Our job is to make sure the horses don’t get scratched or otherwise injured walking through the resultant still-very-branchy gap. It’s not a fun job, and I’m bleeding from three scratches within the first half hour. Jaimin’s going to be busy later.

“I wonder if these are the same trees that were here when Caimae was populated?” Arimen asks, sounding far too chirpy for this situation. “Think of all the things they’ve seen!”

I’ve never been so grateful in my life for Master’s telepathic knock. Tuning out Arimen’s babble, I say, “Thank you for rescuing me from a discussion about the joy of trees.”

“Talon?”

Master’s mental tone is solemn, and my stomach lurches. Something’s happened.

“What is it?”

“I’m so sorry, Talon. Master Eldridge has informed me ? —”

“My students.” Oh gods. No. “Who?”

“Drey Hart.”

I stop walking, and Sweetie crowds up behind me, but she must sense my mood, because she doesn’t bite. Drey. Mr. Baby Merchant. The one I suspended over the chasm that first day… and, once he found his determination, one of my better, more capable students.

If he couldn’t survive, what hope do the others have?

“Talon?” Jaimin asks, but I shake my head.

“What happened?”

“He was sent to Laisanne to give support. While on patrol, they found a village that had been attacked. It appeared abandoned, but they searched it anyway, and there was a zombie in one of the smaller houses. Drey was between it and the master he was assigned to, and…”

And the zombie killed Drey before the mage could get a clear shot to burn it. Bitterness floods my mouth. “This is my fault. He could have saved himself, but I argued against teaching them to use magefire.”

“You can’t think like that,” Master argues. “The dean was against it also, and his word had more weight than yours. You were right to argue—more of them would have died learning to use it than are dead now.”

The logical side of me, the teacher who’s been working with first years for half a decade, knows he’s right. The rest of me doesn’t care. Drey is dead, and I’m part of that.

“Did they burn his body?”

“Yes. Those are standing orders across Vaderyn. The dead are to be burned until we can be sure this crisis is over.”

At least that’s something. “Thank you for letting me know, Master.”

“This isn’t your fault, Talon.”

“I know.”

He doesn’t seem convinced of my sincerity, but breaks the connection between us.

“What’s happened?” Jaimin asks, and I look up into his deeply concerned eyes. Beyond him, Coryn and Arimen are still cutting through the trees. It’s just us—a rare moment of privacy.

“One of my students was killed.”

His face floods with sympathy, and he puts his arms around me. “Oh, Talon. I’m so sorry.”

The hug is awkward—we’re both still holding our horses’ reins, and the woods press in close—but it’s exactly what I need in this moment.

“We have to find the champion. This has to end.” My words are muffled against his shoulder.

“It will,” he promises. “We’re going to end it, no matter what we have to do.”

Dusk has well and truly fallen before we reach the city. Coryn stops us when the buildings go from scattered with outbuildings to packed closely together along actual streets.

“We’re not wandering around after dark,” he insists. “Pick one of these houses for us to stay in tonight, and we’ll explore tomorrow. We need something we can defend—just in case.”

Arimen looks longingly through the gloom. Toward the center of the city, elevated higher up the hill, is a very obvious temple dome. He’s been chattering excitedly about it since he spotted it twenty minutes ago.

“First thing tomorrow?” he asks hopefully.

“As soon as the sun’s up,” Coryn promises. “But not alone—nobody goes anywhere alone.”

“That sounds sensible,” I say. I don’t think Arimen will argue—he’s frighteningly obedient—but it’s getting darker by the second, and we’re sitting targets if there is anyone here. “Let’s pick somewhere to hole up for the night. Coryn, any preferences?” I’ve pushed my grief down into a tight, tiny ball deep inside me. I don’t have time to mourn now—it can wait until we’ve found the champion.

Coryn looks at the buildings nearest us with a dubious expression, and I understand why. These are the ones that have borne the brunt of the weather over the years and had the most animal incursions—and probably bandit incursions too. They look a little worse for wear, even considering they’ve been abandoned for a century. Most of them are completely roofless, and walls are crumbling on some.

Jaimin must be thinking the same thing, because he suggests, “We could try a little farther along, back from the water. Maybe it’s more sheltered there.”

Coryn shakes his head. “No, I want to be close to the water and this path in case we need to leave quickly. It would be bad if we got lost in a strange, abandoned city with zombies chasing us.”

I shudder. So much for sleeping tonight—that’s going to haunt my dreams.

He wanders in and around a few of the buildings, dragging me and a magelight with him, and finally decides on one that still has shutters on the downstairs windows. It looks like some enterprising squatter nailed them closed at one point, but that does mean the inside is warmer and there are fewer points of ingress that Coryn needs to worry about. It even still has most of its roof. It’s not supposed to rain tonight—I’ve gotten a lot better at predicting weather, and Coryn’s an expert—but if there’s one thing this damn journey has taught me, it’s that the weather is never reliable.

We settle in quickly, not bothering with tents and keeping our fire on the small side. The benefit to having trekked through the thickly wooded hills was the abundance of game, and we still have roast meat left from last night that Jaimin miraculously turns into stew. Another thing I’ve learned over the past weeks is not to be a picky eater. When I’m not having nightmares, I dream of the food back at the academy.

It?s not until after we’ve eaten that I pull out the stone and put it on the floor beside the small fire we’ve allowed ourselves.

“Wait, let me get something to lay it on.” Arimen begins to get up, but I pull him back down.

“Why?”

“The floor’s dirty, and the stone’s a holy object,” he frets.

Jaimin looks away, his mouth quirking in a smile, and I hold tight to my patience.

“It’s a rock, Arimen. It was found in the dirt by a farmer. I don’t think it cares all that much about the floor being a little dusty.” I’m seriously understating the condition of the floor, but if I think too much about how disgusting it is, I won’t be able to sleep on it. The same way I don’t wonder about how many animals have urinated on the ground where I sleep when we camp. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Arimen doesn’t look happy, but he nods. It might make him feel better if I’m nice to the stone, so I try not to sound too grumpy when I say, “So, stone, is this where you wanted us to be?”

~Yes~

Finally, a straight answer. “And is the champion here?”

~Yes/No~

So much for that.

“Is the champion on their way here now?”

~No~

I exchange a glance with Jaimin. “The champion is both here and not here?”

~Yes~

“I give up,” I mutter, and Jaimin puts his arm around my shoulders, letting me lean into him.

“Let’s try a different tack. Are we supposed to meet the champion here?”

~No~

The answer is accompanied by a sense of anticipation, as though…

“Are we not supposed to find the champion yet?” The question bursts from me a lot more loudly than I expected, and Arimen jumps.

~No~

I suck in a deep breath and clench my fists. I will not yell at the creation stone. I won’t.

“I don’t understand,” Arimen says, sounding lost. “Why are we here?”

“It can’t answer that.” There’s a slightly strained edge to Jaimin’s calm that only someone who knows him really well would be able to hear. He’s probably just as annoyed and frustrated as I am to learn that we’ve come all this way for no?—

Wait. Arimen’s right. Why are we here if it’s not time for us to meet the champion? Surely the stone doesn’t mean for us to wait days, weeks, or longer in an abandoned city that was unable to sustain itself without supplies from elsewhere?

“Are we supposed to meet someone here?” Jaimin asks, and I squeeze his thigh. I love that our logic is so similar, even though we think so differently.

~Yes~

“Will they be joining us on our journey?”

~Yes~

“Another companion,” I say, and it’s not a question. Frankly, I’m still not sure why we’ve gathered who we have. At first it made sense—a mage, a dragon rider, and a healer. The triumvirate of the academies was fully represented, even if we were at different stages of our careers. Coryn, too, seemed logical after the attack. But Arimen? And now this new person? I’m not sure any of it makes sense.

“That’s exciting!” Arimen’s smile is bright. “The more, the merrier.”

He and I do not think alike.

“Is this new person already here?” I glance toward the door.

~Yes~

Coryn immediately gets up and goes to peer outside.

“Should we try to find them tonight?”

~No~

“Tomorrow?”

~Yes/No~

I grit my teeth, and Jaimin takes over.

“Will they find us first?”

~Yes~

“Come and sit down, Coryn,” I call. “Apparently, we’re just waiting.”

“Is it okay if I explore the city tomorrow?” Arimen asks the stone. “Can I go to the Temple of Wasianth?”

~Yes~

“Are we going to be here long?” It did say we’d be able to resupply soon, which seems unlikely if we’re staying here. Or even if we’re leaving tomorrow. It’s going to take at least a week or more to get through the hills to a decent-sized village. I don’t even know which direction we’d need to go.

Too bad we don’t have a boat. Once it clears the hills, the Hepalt is lined with villages and towns almost all the way to the ocean. I swallow down my bitterness over having to trek through muddy countryside and along creek beds instead of being allowed to sail here on a nice, clean boat.

“I can guide you to the nearest village,” Leicht assures me. It’s unusually nice of him, and I suspect that’s because he was listening earlier. I can feel the edginess of his mood. We’ve been separated by no less than fifty yards for days—it’s the closest he’s been able to get to me with all the trees around.

“Where are you?” I ask. I was surprised by how unsettled it makes me to be apart from him—a lot like it was with Tia, but different.

“Behind the city. There’s a place that used to be kept clear for dragons to stay on the hilltop there. It’s overgrown now, but still usable.”

A knot loosens in my chest. He’s close, then. “Even if you can guide us,” I say, going back to his first comment, “it’s still going to be some time before we can resupply.”

“You could come and meet me up here,” he suggests. “I’ll fly you there and then carry you and the supplies back.”

That’s not a bad idea. It would mean staying here at least one day longer than needed, but we wouldn’t have to worry about hunting while we trek out. It’s definitely something to discuss with Jaimin and Coryn. “I’ll see if I can find the path up there tomorrow.”

“Talon?” Arimen says, drawing my attention away from Leicht.

“What?”

“The stone’s waiting for your next question.”

Damn. I missed the answer to the last one. “Uh…”

“Remember, you asked it if we’d be here long, and it said no,” Jaimin prompts. They all know I can talk to Leicht, but only he’s aware of how deep the connection truly is and how much adjusting it’s taken for me to get used to it.

“Yes,” I say, as though I knew all that and was just considering what to ask next. “I guess the only other thing you might tell us is, does our new companion know where we’re going next?” I’m being flippant, covering for my lapse in concentration. We all know what the answer to this?—

~Yes~