A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals) (23 page)

Chapter
41: Jareld and Emily

Everybody had questions.

Each member of the Council asked Jareld something about his escape and subsequent adventures. How had he gotten out of Goldmere? How had he met the Baron? Who else knew? They all kept asking and asking...

Except Emily.

None of the Council Members even noticed when Corthos (still looking like “Krugg”) took Landos’ body away. As Jareld had promised, the poison was not lethal. But it put Landos into such a deep sleep that he seemed dead. Jareld had plans for the Magistrate, and they didn’t involve the legal system. And it was the perfect time to move the body, since everyone was talking to Jareld.

Everyone except Emily.

Emily, after embracing Jareld and exchanging those first few words, had backed away and just stood and stared. The rest of the Council was eating up his story, devouring every word. But she didn’t speak. Or move. She barely blinked.

Finally, Jareld put an end to the questions, “I’m sorry to have deceived so many of you. And I’m glad my tale is entertaining, but we have work to do.”

“Are you in charge?” James challenged him.

“It seems like it, doesn’t it?” Jareld said. “Lucky for all of you, in charge is the last thing I want to be. The Council will meet in one hour. I will draw up a document that will allow them to appoint a temporary leader.”

“You’ll be able to write that in an hour?” one of the Council Members asked.

“It’s already written in my head,” Jareld said, “I just need to get it down on paper. Now, if you’ll all excuse me...”

The Council shuffled out as Jareld sat at his desk. But when he looked up, there was still one person in the room.

“You’ve been thinking about all this for a while, haven’t you?” Emily asked, once they were alone.

“Years, in fact,” Jareld said. “I knew that when I made the truth known, we would need new leadership. And I’ve had six years to think about it.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to be the leader?”

“Great Halinor, no,” Jareld laughed. “I’m here to fix the problem. Then, I want to disappear again, but on my terms. Open a library. Teach five students at a time. Drink tea on a second story balcony that overlooks a bay. Or perhaps fields of grass. I haven’t decided which.”

“Even with six years to think about it?”

“Can’t rush these things.”

“Apparently not.”

“I’m sorry about the Baron,” Jareld said, but his tone made it sound like he was apologizing for spilling a cup of milk.

“I’m so fucking confused right now, I don’t know if I accept.”

“That’s fine. I didn’t expect you to.”

“Do you even want me to? I mean, do you care about anything any more?”

“Alright, enough of that. I spent four years in a—”

“Yes, yes, I know. We’re all terribly sorry for you and impressed with you and everything. But you got out and you decided to put on this elaborate charade and lie to us and manipulate us and… ugh. What do you want?”

“I told you. I had to fix the situation here. I had to come back. I’m not sure if it was all noble. I was pissed at Landos. I mean really, really pissed at him. And I wanted to stop him. To defeat him. There was nothing noble about that. But once it was done, I really have this image of a small hut with a library in a faraway place.”

“And where am I in this image?”

“Where do you think? If I had my way? If all my dreams were to really come true? You would be right there with me. I know you’re tired of hearing it, but four years is a long fucking time. I know you think you know how long four years is, but when you’re locked up and you don’t speak to anyone, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be free again, it’s all the longer. There was only one thing that kept me sane, and it was you. I wouldn’t have lived this long if not for you.”

“You escaped two years ago...” Emily said, her voice even and fierce.

“I couldn’t come to you. You understand that, right? I had a mission. I had to stop Landos first. Then I could return to you. But not before. I had to be a Man of the Kingdom.”

“King Michael used that same expression.”

“I was borrowing. Emily, I know all this is confusing, but can’t we just be together again?”

“I just got over you. The Baron convinced me to get over you. I mean you convinced me... You get it, right?”

“I just wanted to kiss you.”

“No, that’s not it. You lied to me.”

“I was playing a part.”

“I never would have imagined you were capable of that level of deception. Part of what I loved about you was how honest you were.”

“Honesty took me away from you,” Jareld said. “I couldn’t defeat Landos the way I used to be.”

“I need time to think, Jareld. I’ve missed you for so long and I didn’t want to get over you, because missing you and loving you were the purest things I’ve ever felt. But finding out that you’ve become a manipulative prick is worse than finding your corpse.”

“I’m sorry. I had to.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. But even if you’re right... I’ve been dreaming, too, Jareld. For six years. I imagined that you would come riding up to the Castle one day. You were bruised and cut, and your hair was a mess, but you had just fought your way free of some brigands, or pirates, or something, and thank Halinor you were alive. And in my dreams you kissed me with such passion that you were knighted for that alone, and we were married and went off to live in the country, in a little house with a balcony overlooking the bay. Or sometimes fields of grass.

“You are not the same man who appears in my dreams. I don’t know if I can love this version of you.”

“I’m still me. Emily, please believe one thing. Whatever else has changed about me, I love you as much now as I ever have. And I’ll never hurt you.”

“You already have,” Emily said, but her voice was cracking. “You should get to work. I’ll see you at the Council Meeting.”

And she rushed out the broken door, not wanting to break down completely in front of him. Jareld was still for a moment. He had come so far, and overcome so much, and only now worried that his priorities might not have been set right.

He reached for his parchment. He did have work to do. And once again, he had to put aside his feelings for Emily to get the job done.

Chapter
42: A Memory of Fire

Duncan, Landora, and Nuria entered the cave.

The layout was familiar, though larger in scale. A pedestal in the center of the room, under a hole in the ceiling. Arcane symbols decorated every surface, from the walls to the edges of the steps.

Landora felt a flash of fire in her brain. An echo, a memory of her encounter in the temple in the Turinheld. This was the place. There was no doubt. But it should have been more powerful. It should have been more dangerous. Yet even Duncan was able to keep his feet in here.

“What are these symbols?” Nuria asked. “We saw something like this in the forest.”

“It’s an ancient language,” Duncan said, “I recognize some of the characters. But it hasn’t been written or spoken in thousands of years.”

“Can you read any of it?” Landora asked.

“I can guess,” he knelt at one side of the pedestal, scanning over the strange symbols. He was drawing on a single class in ancient languages to try to read it. It was like playing charades with a drunk man.

“OK, so this line says, ‘The Prince is dead,’ or possibly, ‘Then the Prince died.’ There are a couple of words I don’t know... Then it’s talking about a tomb, or a grave. In a distant land. And then the stone is cracked here--”

“It’s cracked on all four sides,” Landora said. “Look. Each side of the pedestal has lettering. And they’re all broken.”

“These cracks are old,” Duncan observed. “Except for the east side. This is less than a week old.”

“It’s a prison,” Landora said.

“What?” Duncan turned to her.

“Nuria, run your hand along the crack in the stone,” Landora said. Nuria did so, and her eyes flashed open.

“She’s right,” Nuria said. “These words... In the ancient language... They’re seals. Or they were. They’ve been broken.”

“Whoever I saw,” Landora continued, “When I stepped on the pedestal in the Turinheld. The... creature. The beast. It was made of fire. Or at least that’s how it seemed in my mind. He was trapped here. And now he’s gone.”

“What does the newest seal say?” Nuria asked.

Duncan moved to the next engraving, “I can’t make it all out. It says something like, ‘The island sinks’ or, ‘Then the island sank.”

“Sunk,” Landora corrected

“Sanked?” Nuria tried.

“Sank,” Duncan repeated, and then he realized. “Losmourne...”

“The island?” Landora asked. “What of it?”

“Just before we left Anuen, there were whispers that the island had disappeared. I chalked it up to drunk sailors starting a rumor. But if it’s true...”

Duncan paced around the cave. Even if the writing wasn’t in a forgotten language, he could tell it was old. Older than the Kingdom of Rone. Possibly from before the people of Rone even came to their continent. And somebody had gone through the trouble of locking up this fearsome thing in this cave.

And somebody else had gone through the trouble of letting it out. The same somebody (or somebodies) who attacked Vye in Deliem. Because Vye would be the only one who could stop it.

Duncan knelt at the base of the dais. There was one character, written in the same language. Larger, bolder. An important symbol.

“What does it say?” Nuria asked.

“There’s no good translation. It represents half a thought. Or an unfinished phrase. Like it’s building to something.” And after a moment of thought, he added, “Landora, I need you to step onto the pedestal.”

Landora glared at Duncan in disbelief.

“I made that mistake once,” she protested, “And that was from a thousand miles away.”

“I’m hoping that this creature is now a thousand miles away,” Duncan said. “And he was here for thousands of years. He must have left some kind of...magical residue. Something you could glean something from.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Landora said again.

“She’s right,” Nuria said. “I could barely get her out last time. I’ll do it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Duncan dismissed her.

“Landora is more powerful than I am,” Nuria explained. “If I get in trouble, she has a better chance of getting me out than I have of getting her out.”

“You’re just a kid,” Duncan said.

“You decided that Sir Noble could die because saving Landora was more important,” Nuria faced off against him. At this, Landora glanced at Duncan, but neither had a chance to say anything, “Now I’m telling you that it’s more important for Landora to stay back.”

“Fine,” Duncan said. “But we’re taking some precautions.”

They tied a harness around Nuria’s torso, a sturdy rope hooked to the back. Duncan held that rope tight, ready to yank her away at a moment’s notice. Landora stood at the ready, hoping to render whatever help she could to whomever needed it.

And Nuria stepped onto the pedestal...

---

The fire was everywhere. It was a familiar flame. A sharp, stinging memory. It was the same power that attacked Vye in Hartstone. The same one Landora struggled against in Argos’ temple in the Turinheld. It was strong and it was everywhere.

But it was also faded. It was painful and difficult to endure, but it wasn’t as concentrated as it had been before. Like the leg of a table that rested in the same spot in the same dusty room for decades, when it was finally removed, it left an impression. A clean square on the floorboards. There was clarity, but no power.

But there were still eyes. And they were still looking at Nuria. She scoured the world of fire to seek it out. The creature. The being that had terrorized them. And there it was, searching her mind. And Nuria realized the door swung both ways. If it could look into her mind...

She glared back at the monster, focusing on the fire in its eyes. She searched behind its eyes, trying to read the book it kept hidden there. She found sights and sounds, memories and dreams gathered over thousands of years, from places near and far. Lands and times forgotten, reborn for a glimpse of this demon’s remembrance.

But one moment stood out to Nuria. A pivotal point in the landscape of his life. Before this moment, the world was a vast and unforgiving fire. After this point, the creature’s memories felt more like Nuria’s world. There was a moment of transition. When he went through a portal. A gateway...

Nuria focused on that memory. She relived it, through his eyes, a hundred times in the blink of an eye. She studied it, examined it, collected small hints and clues each time. This was the answer. This was what he most remembered. And what he most feared...

---

Nuria woke in the cold snow, just outside the cave. Landora and Duncan were looking her over.

“What happened?” she mumbled.

“You were writhing in pain,” Duncan said. “So we pulled you out.”

“Your skin was burning up. We thought the cold might help you recover,” Landora explained.

“Are you alright?” Duncan asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Nuria said.

“Did you see anything?” Duncan asked.

“I know what we have to do to defeat this thing,” Nuria declared.

“What?” Landora asked.

“We have to open a portal,” Nuria said, “And send it back to the Abyss.”

“And how do we do that?” Duncan asked.

“That...” Nuria said, “I don’t know.”