Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (4 page)

“Need I remind you,” Nessa’s voice is low now. Firm. “That your captain ranks beneath my husband, whose house falls under sanctions that prevent such a search?

“Under the circumstances, I’m afraid it’s warranted.” The boots turn. The door opens again. Freland calls to others. Saesa runs down the stairs. Outside, I hear more boots. Maisie waves her hand at me behind her back.

“Run.”

Yes, run. I can’t wait for Saesa. I duck through the dining room to the kitchen where Bette, the cook, is working hard at breakfast. She smiles at me as I streak past and throw my cloak over my shoulders. She’s used to children clambering around the kitchens, sneaking food. She doesn’t think twice about it. I don’t take anything, though. I just skid out into the alley and close the door quietly behind me. Outside, everything is covered in a thick blanket of white. I’ve never seen snow before. Great fluffs of flakes fall from the sky, swirling and floating and settling peacefully onto cushions of itself on the ground. I step down and it comes to my ankles, almost over the tops of my new boots. As enchanted as I am by the powdery soft snowflakes that cling to my cloak, I’m also aware of the problem it creates for me. Tracks. No one else has come down here. When the guards do, they’ll see my footsteps in no time. I scowl.

“Just go.”

Yes, just go. Just run. Quickly. I dart off into the alley. At first I don’t know where to go, but then it hits me. Saesa will go to Bren’s for Feat, I’m sure of it. I’ll go there. I’ll wait for her. Say goodbye. I glance behind me and see there are no footprints in the snow. As I run, I watch my feet. The snow pushes down and springs back up again as though untouched. A strange shimmer hovers over my boots. It reminds me of something. The air beside the Mage’s head in Nessa’s sitting room, maybe. The wind gusts around me and the snow is so thick that I can barely see the buildings on either side of the narrow cobbled road. I finally reach Bren’s and duck inside.

Hopeful as ever, Bren leans to greet me as the bell rings. When he sees it’s me, I get his usual forced smile.

“Master Tib,” he says. “You’re here early. And no Saesa?”

“She’s coming,” I reply as I shake the already melting snow from my cloak. I try hard to seem calm, not like a boy being chased by city guards. I’m glad it’s cold so my shivering doesn’t seem suspicious. “She’s buying Feat today.”

“Is that so?” He invites me to come around by the forge to warm and dry myself and then he goes out the back door and comes back in. Putters around the shop, arranging things. We talk some, but not much. I don’t know how to drive a conversation like Saesa does. When I begin to lose hope that she’s coming, the bell at the front door rings.

“Ah, Miss Saesa,” Bren says with a hint of relief. “We were expecting you.”

“We?” She rushes to the counter. Sees me. Gasps with relief, and then catches herself as she glances at Bren. She hides her surprise quickly with a laugh. “Tib, you were right!” She turns to Bren. “He said he could beat me here. He’s good at a foot race, even in the snow.” Bren grunts and smiles as he ducks beneath the counter to retrieve Feat.

“Tib says it’s your big day,” he says as Saesa lovingly unwraps the sword. She nods her response. Her eyes are teary as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the two gold pieces.

“Well, well. Someone’s caught a windfall.” Bren takes the tally sheet from its pin as I come around the counter to Saesa’s side. He writes PIF across the marks. “Got enough there for a scabbard and belt, too, if you want ‘em,” he says to her.

“What about a knife for Tib? He needs something,” she says with a worried glance at me.

“Aye, I’ll throw that in,” Bren says.

As the weapon smith strides around the tiny space collecting her items, Saesa moves closer to me. She’s holding back from saying anything at all to me, I can tell. Afraid she’ll give me away. Bren comes to her side and fits her belt. She slips the sword into its case and sniffles, grinning.

“I can’t believe it’s mine,” she whispers.

“And for you, Tib,” he says. He gives me a good knife. Nothing fancy or special. I’ve never had my own knife before, though. I feel a little taller as I thread it onto my belt. “Be careful with it. Both of you.”

“Thank you!” Saesa cries and throws her arms around Bren, who pats her shoulder a little awkwardly.

“Don’t be a stranger, you, now that you’ve got what you wanted,” Bren says.

He glances toward the door nervously. That’s when we hear it. Marching outside. Raised voices. Saesa turns to me, alarmed. She pulls her furs tight around her arms. My heart thumps. Bren looks toward the door. His jaw clenches. He tips his head toward the back door.

“Best go out that way,” he says. Neither of us thinks. Saesa grabs my hand and we dart outside. Into the snow. Right into the pair of guards standing there, waiting for us. One grabs Saesa, the other grabs me, pinning my arms.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Bren. Your reward,” the guard holding me says. He tosses a pouch of coins to Bren, who’s standing in the doorway, watching. He catches the pouch. He doesn’t look at us. Beside him on the door frame hangs a signal flag with Cerion’s crest beside a plain strip of red. The color sets off memories. Emotions. Anger. Fear. Helplessness. I snarl. Elbow the guard in the gut. Reach for my new knife. Struggle.

“Be calm.”

Yes, be calm. I feel the command settle over me like the blanket of snow. Peace. The guard grabs the knife from my belt. Stows it somewhere. Clamps his hands around my arms.

“Let’s go,” he says.

“Bren,” Saesa sobs, “how could you? I thought you were our friend!”

Bren pauses. Eyes the scene. Clenches his hand around the pouch of reward money.

“You didn’t say nothing about the girl,” he says. The guards exchange glances.

“He’s right,” mine says. “We’ve no orders to take her in.”

“Right.” Saesa’s guard releases her with a shove. “You look like a nice girl. Go home. Make better choices in the future, eh? No more going around with this sort.”

Saesa plants her feet in the snow. Her new sword is buried under the thick fur of her cloak, but I know she’s got her hand on its hilt. The guard tightens his grip on my arms painfully. I try not to react. I try to be calm.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, you two,” Bren warns. “I don’t want any trouble out here.” He hesitates, and then goes inside and closes the door behind him. The guards march me forward, but Saesa stands firm at the mouth of the alley.

“Go, Saesa.” I say. “Go home.”

The guard shakes me, “Nobody told you to talk, did they? Just walk.”

“We’ll get you out. We’ll fix this, Tib. I promise. I know you didn’t do anything.” Saesa’s faith in my innocence makes me feel worse than I do about the guards finding me. She doesn’t know about the towers. I’m sure if she did, she’d never be my friend. Never make promises to help me. Saesa chews her lip. I see the small movement under her cloak. Her hand sliding from the hilt. She shakes her head tearfully as the guards loom closer. My feet shuffle in the snow. I look down. My boots are making tracks now. Pushing the snow, creating deep grooves. I hear her apology and nod. I don’t look up though. I can’t watch her leave me. Can’t watch her go.

Azi

“I’m just saying it’s terribly boring to travel this way.”
Flitt chatters in my head.
“Horses take forever. Though at least the trees are pretty. Even though they’re sleeping. And your mountains are covered in green even in the wintertime. Not like the Crag, which is always black and rocky. Still, we don’t really have winter, except in the winter lands of course. But you haven’t been there. Maybe next time when you come I can show you.”

“Mmm,”
I reply aloud as the fairy babbles on and on, circling around my head. I’m used to it now. I’ve learned to mostly tune her out.

“Try again!”

“That’d be nice.”
I push the thought into her mind as she’s been teaching me to. I don’t like the feel of it. It’s too imposing.

“
Good job!
” she squeals and claps. “
Oh, here comes Stinky,
” she says as Rian trots up beside me on his steed.

“Hey, Dreamy,” he says with some amusement. “You’re lagging again.” I look up at the prince’s carriage which is several lengths ahead now, and curse under my breath.

“Charming.”

The wind whips my cloak as I press my heels into Pearl’s haunches to quicken her pace. Rian keeps up and behind me I hear the rest of His Majesty’s Elite rush to match my pace. The Elite is my parents’ guild. It’s a small company, hand-picked by His Majesty King Tirnon to carry out various quests and tasks. Rian’s mother, Mya, is the leader. He and I grew up side by side, often spending the weeks while our parents were away dreaming of this precise moment, when we could join them on the road to adventure. He passes me and looks back, and his grin makes my heart flutter. It’s only recently that our feelings for each other have grown into something more than friendship. I worried that our affections would fade in the months following our adventures in Kythshire, but if anything our feelings have grown stronger.

The air is milder now that we’ve breached the crest and started downhill on the winding mountain roads. The rear window of the carriage is open to the fresh breeze, and Princess Amei looks back at us and waves. Prince Eron dozes beside her, his head resting on a thick pillow propped against the carriage wall. I wave back with my free hand and then switch the banner and flex my fingers. Rian notices.

“Want me to take it?” he asks.

“Not yet,” I say. Riding point for the guild is an honor I have dreamed about for years. Even after a full day of riding with both wrists aching from the effort, I’m not ready to give up our banner just yet.

A single rider thunders past us from the front of the line and falls into step beside Mya. His name is Fenston, the Captain of the Guard.

“The forest is thinning,” he says to Mya with his usual stern tone. “We’ll be reaching the crossroads soon. The Inn at Westhaven is expecting us around sunset. We’re keeping good time but it wouldn’t hurt to quicken your pace some.” He looks ahead at me and I duck apologetically.

“Ooooo, you got in trouble.”
Flitt giggles.
“Such a funny thing, traveling so slowly and still being concerned with the time.”

“We’re not in Kythshire,”
I push the thought to her.
“We can’t just pop from here to there.”

“Too bad,”
she teases. I squint my eyes and risk dropping the reins to rub my temples. I don’t like this Half-Realm talking, as Flitt calls it.

“
The headaches go away after a while
,” Rian’s voice echoes in my head. I groan.

“Not you, too,” I say. “Can’t we just,” I lower my voice as the Captain passes us, “talk? Out loud? Like normal people?”

“It could come in handy,” Rian says. “I think it’s fascinating.”

“You would,” I tease, “Mage. I’m taking a break from it for now. I don’t like it. It distracts me.”

“All the more reason to practice.”
Flitt again. I roll my eyes and trot up closer to the back of the carriage where Amei is watching the columns of soldiers on horseback ahead of us.

“All right, Your Highness?” I ask.

“Did I hear him say we’re nearly there?” the princess asks me with a sweet smile.

“Nearly,” I reply. She reaches for her husband’s hand and squeezes it, and he blinks awake. I watch the two exchange a smile and then he turns and sees me. A curt nod is all he gives me in greeting, and that’s just fine with me. I bow respectfully and put some distance between us. A casual conversation with Amei is one thing, but I’ve learned to keep a safe distance between myself and the prince.

As soon as the forest thins and the fields open up on either side of the road, we’re greeted by a sprinkling of subjects who I’m sure have been waiting most of the day to see Their Highnesses ride past. They cheer as the carriage comes into view and bow when we pass by. They call out blessings and well wishes for the baby Amei carries, the new heir of Cerion yet to be born. I sit a little taller in my saddle as the crowds lining the roads grow thicker. We slow as we pass through the first village at the crossroads and the crowds cry Eron’s name. He calls for his horse and leaves the carriage to ride among them, stopping to shake hands and collect favors from the adoring subjects who have gathered to see him.

“No tarnished reputation here,” Rian says through the smile he’s planted on his face as he sidles his horse close to mine. “Look how they adore him.”

“Mama, look at the Lady Knight!” I hear a girl call out. I turn to wave to her and she squeals with delight. “She waved, did you see?” The girl’s father lifts her up and she tosses a bouquet of dried flowers to me. I catch them and nod to her and she claps and squeals with delight.

“Thank you,” I grin at her, flattered.

“Dead things. Ugh.
” Flitt murmurs into my ear.
“This is too much. I’m going. See you later!
” She darts in front of my face in a rainbow-colored blur and is gone in a blink. I look around the crowd. Just as I expect, nobody seems to have seen her. Especially in crowded places, Flitt tends to stay safely hidden in the Half-Realm. Invisible to most people. On Rian’s other side, excitement is coursing through the crowd.

“Mage!” they call. “Mage! Look here! Show us a spell!”

“Rian…” I warn. Magic isn’t to be used as a spectacle. It’s a practical art. One that’s meant to help people. To protect. Not for show. Not frivolously. Especially not now. Still, Rian gives a cautious glance over his shoulder at the rest of the Elite, who are just as swarmed by the villagers. I follow his gaze. To the cheers of those around her, Mya has taken out her mandolin and started to play a bright anthem to the Royal Family. Beside her, her husband Elliot bobs his head in time to the beat, the red fringe of his hair waving this way and that. Beyond them Bryse and Cort, both warriors, are happily accepting tankards of ale from the tavern maids who have come out to greet and watch. I laugh at Bryse, who is so large that the tankard is more like a thimble to him. My father joins the two, raising his own mug. Beside him, my mother sits tall in her plate armor. She is a paladin, and the calming aura that surrounds her stretches out over the crowd, keeping the crowd at a certain level of peace despite their excitement. Brother Donal and Dacva have dismounted. They disappear into the throngs, looking for those who might need healing.

“Just one spell, just one!” Those beside him tug at Rian’s robes. I shake my head in warning, but I know it’s useless. Even after all we’ve been through, Rian can’t resist the temptation to show off. He reaches for my dried bouquet and holds it up. One by one the stems grow plump and green and the petals unfurl into fragrant, soft, colorful blossoms. As if that wasn’t enough, a dozen glittering butterflies burst forth from the bouquet and flutter around us. They rest on my helm and adorn my braid as he offers the bouquet back to me.

“My lady,” he grins mischievously. I take it with a roll of my eyes and a bemused smile as the crowd erupts into cheers around us.

“You’re hopeless,” I murmur as he leans to kiss me, causing another burst of excited applause.

“What? That was Third Circle. Barely a spell at all. Now, I could show them the Color Burst I’ve been working on.” He wriggles his brow at me. “That’s Sixteenth. But it’d probably be a bad idea, as it seems to have some sort of stunning effect.”

“Probably a bad idea. Yes.” I sigh at him as I turn my attention back to the road ahead.

We finally make our way through the village and travel onward, reaching Westhaven just as the sun dips below the treetops. This village is much larger than the last one we passed through, and it takes us twice as long to get through the welcoming crowds to the only inn large enough to host His Highness, his guard, and our guild together.

Normally on a quest we would camp out along the road and take watches in shifts. Rian, Dacva and I would groom and feed the horses, being the most junior members of the Elite. Here, though, our horses are led away by stable boys as soon as we dismount, and maids show us to generous rooms with plush beds and tubs of steaming water to wash in. There’s very little work to do. Mum, Mya, and I room together while the men of the guild have two rooms to split between them. When we’re all refreshed and changed out of our armor, we go down to the dining room where a feast has been laid out for us in honor of the prince.

Prince Eron sits at the front of the room with Princess Amei at his side. As I slide onto a bench beside Rian, I take note of the pair of guards posted at the main door and the second set standing just outside.

“Why don’t we stay at Forbend Keep?” I whisper to Rian as I break off a piece of bread.

“It’s too far out of the way for the princess in her condition,” he says. “We would have had to ride faster, and for another half day. This place is secure enough.” He brushes his fingers over his goblet before he sips from it.

“What was that?” I murmur.

“You don’t miss a spell, do you?” He chuckles. “Just checking. It’s all fine.” He nods to the table and I understand that one spell over his cup has tested everything else laid before us. It’s something my Uncle Gaethon would have done if he was here, but he put his faith in Rian to be the sole Mage of the guild on this journey. As the headmaster of the Academy, Uncle had too many other responsibilities to tend to during Prince Vorance’s visit.

The ale and wine flow freely, and it isn’t long before most of the party is deep in its cups, including the prince himself. Mya plays throughout the night, and there is dancing and laughter and merriment. Even Eron and Amei dance carefully, and Rian and I join them with Mum and Da. After a while, I start to notice Eron’s eyes on me far more often than they should be. I make a show of laughing and fawning over Rian. When that doesn’t work, I excuse myself and go outside.

In the street, Rian slips his hand into mine. We walk in silence to the outskirts of the village. When he’s sure nobody is watching, he whispers a word and the air shimmers around us as we settle into the Half-Realm, the space in between our realm and the dream realm, where fairies hide. Where we can be alone.

“Sorry,” I say. “I had to get out of there.” I lean against him and he strokes my hair.

“I know. I saw him.”

“Why does he have to be so…?” I trail off. I can’t think of a nice way to say it.

“Some people just are. He’s been through a lot. He’s trying to fill a void.”

I consider his words. Eron was recently caught in the grips of a Sorceress. Viala had managed to sweet talk and connive her way up through the Mages Circles of Cerion’s Academy to Master level at the young age of nineteen. She lured the Prince with seduction and held him with intricate enchantments to help her further her plots. Rian and I discovered later that she wasn’t acting alone. Her schooling was paid for by a group of ruthless Sorcerers from Zhagen, the capital city of Sunteri. They plotted to take over Kythshire, the land of fairies, in order to claim the power of its Wellspring, the source of all magic in Cerion. Prince Eron was released from her spells when Viala was stripped of her magic. In the wake of the events, he has stood many secret trials accusing him of treason.

King Tirnon is a just king, but he’s also a loving father. This journey to Lake Kordelya Castle is masked as a retreat for the princess who is carrying Eron’s baby, but in truth it’s meant to get the prince out the city and perhaps dampen the scrutiny and accusations that continue to surround him. Certainly he was under enchantments, but even so, I don’t believe the prince to be completely without faults. Rumors of his lascivious activities and the fruits of them sprinkled around the city are whispered among commoners and nobles alike. My thoughts drift back to the moments just last summer when he held me in a hidden alcove of the palace, brushed his rough chin on my cheek, and breathed hotly in my ear before I was whisked away by the younger princesses.

“I wish he could fill it without being so creepy.” I frown. We circle back and settle together into an alcove just across the street from the inn. No one from our world can see us in the Half-Realm, and Rian and I have made it our refuge these past few months.

“Don’t worry about him,” he whispers as he slides his fingers into my hair and pulls me to him. We kiss for what seems like half the night as the merry sounds of the feast drift out from the Inn, and my thoughts of the prince are long forgotten.