Chain of Illusions (Bringer and the Bane) (27 page)

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Authors: Boone Brux

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BOOK: Chain of Illusions (Bringer and the Bane)
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She laughed and turned back to the water. It was amazing how their talk had lifted the majority of Rell’s doubts. She loved Siban. Life without him would be as bleak as when she was a demon. There was no sure thing in these tumultuous times, but she wouldn’t let the Bane steal anymore of her happiness. Not looking at Ravyn, she said, “Thank you.”

Obviously understanding, Ravyn said, “You’re welcome.”

The two women stood together, enjoying the launch preperations. Ravyn explained different things about the ship, keeping their conversation light. Ropes were untied and tossed over the side of the boat onto the dock. With a loud
flap
, a single sail unfurled. The ship creaked and drifted backward out of the slip. The crew scampered around the deck and up the ladder, while Rhys manned the wheel, steering the vessel away from the pier and into open water.

More sails opened. The wind caught the material, snapping it to a tight billow. Waves crashed under the bow and the ship dipped down and then back up. Once all the sails had been unfurled, the ship sliced through the water, moving faster than Rell ever had in her life.

Siban left the bridge and maneuvered the steps to the deck. He joined her at the bow and slid his arm around her waist. It was a perfect moment in an imperfect world.

Meran approached. “Is this your first time on a ship?”

“Yes.” Rell leaned out to look at the water. “The sea is so black.”

“Deep and cold too.” Meran smiled, as if what she said wasn’t incredibly troubling. “If you don’t get seasick, you’ll sleep more soundly than you ever have. The rocking of the boat will lull you to pleasant dreams.”

“And if I get seasick?” Rell asked.

Meran’s smiled turned tight and she patted the side of the ship. “You might want to sleep near the railing.”

“I haven’t been sick myself,” Ravyn said, “but I hear it’s highly unpleasant.”

“Well—” Rell thought for a moment, assessing her stomach. “I feel fine so far.”

“Good,” Siban said. “That’s a very good sign.”

She suspected he was placating her, but let it go. “So what do we do now?”

“Wait.” Ravyn pulled her cloak around her and leaned her head back to drink up the sun. “We should arrive in Alba tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sounds—wonderful.”

And it did. The lack of danger was exactly what Rell wanted. To sleep soundly, rocked by the sea, was a type of tedium she considered a gift. There would come a time, too soon, to be sure, when she’d wish for such boredom. She was certain of it.

Chapter Twenty-five

Their time on the sea was uneventful and as much as she had craved the monotony of the travel, when they finally arrived in Alba, Rell was ready to get off the ship. Perhaps danger was in her blood. Inactivity, though important sometimes, was not something she wished to experience too often.

The din from the crowded dock swelled up above the bow of the boat. Rell leaned over the side and watched the people scurry about. The pier stretched as far as Rell could see. Ships bobbed lazily in the water, their sides scraping and bumping against the dock when a ship eased into a slip, disrupting the water.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” Ravyn leaned her elbows on the rail and stared down at the people. The brisk afternoon breeze buffeted her black locks and she gathered the thick mass in her hand to hold it in place. “I remember the first time I saw the port. I couldn’t believe there were so many people in one place.”

“It’s daunting being around this many people.” Rell squinted and rubbed her forehead. “I feel as if they’re all trying to crowd inside my head.”

“Keep your mental shields erected. I’m still not very good at letting a little bit of information in at a time.” She smiled. “Don’t tell Rhys. He’s been trying to teach me for quite a while now, and I dare say he’d be disappointed in me.”

An unladylike snort escaped Rell. “I doubt that.”

Jade joined them at the railing. “What are you talking about?”

“We were just watching the crowd.” Ravyn pointed to a legless man near a barrel on the dock. “See that man down there?”

Rell followed her finger and nodded.

“Look at the pile of rags behind him.”

Rell held up her hand and squinted against the afternoon sun and Jade leaned forward against the rail. At first the pile looked like discarded clothing, but with closer scrutiny a pair of ragged boots could be seen peeking from the heap. After a few seconds the boots moved.

“He’s got legs. But how does he appear legless?”

“Ingenuity. The blanket over his lap hides his folded legs.”

Jade shrugged. “A person needs to survive.”

The loud cranking of the gangplank being lowered behind them drew their attention. The three women turned to watch the crew preparing to disembark. From observing the men, Rell could tell that they’d sailed together for enough time to know the routine and work together. That was something she could appreciate now that she was Bringer.

Delphina’s voice could be heard ordering Hayden away from the gangplank. Rell made note of just how much work a young boy could be and squashed any bits of longing for a child that surfaced.

Siban exited the bridge and took the steps two at a time, hopping the last two to land on the deck. He strolled toward them, obviously happy to be home again.

“Once the gangplank is down, we’ll be ready to disembark.” He bent and picked up the small chest at Rell’s feet. “We’ll be walking, so I’ll carry this.”

“Is it far?” Not that it mattered. Walking would be nice after standing around for a day.

“It’s a bit of a trek,” Ravyn said. “Mainly because Alba Haven sits at the top of the hill.”

Rell looked up, but all that could be seen were tall walls of what looked like a fortress. She pointed. “We’re going up there?”

“Yes.” Siban walked toward Rhys and Luc, who waited near the exit. “It’s very beautiful and very safe.”

“Well—” Ravyn’s gaze cut to her. “If you stay within the walls, it’s safe. All of Alba Haven is warded. Outside of the wall is quite another story.”

“I’ll remember that.” Rell stepped closer to Siban.

“Don’t worry, you’re more than a match for any of the vagrants loitering about the gates of Alba Haven,” he said.

Once they were all gathered, Gregory quickly surveyed the group. “Are we ready?”

“I believe so.” Rhys moved to the front of their party. “There was no time to send word ahead to prepare for horses, so we’ll have to walk to Alba Haven. I’m sure we won’t encounter any trouble.”

Besides Faela, Rell had never been in a large city, and even then it had been with her parents when she was very young. Excitement skittered through her as she descended the gangway. People fanned back, allowing their party to pass. She had to admit, they were an impressive group. By some unspoken consent, each of the Bringers were dressed in black and outfitted with their weapons.

Luc and Ravyn each wore a harness that ran from their right shoulders to just below their ribs. In the casing rested an immortal dagger for quick retrieval. Though Rell still wore her sword at her side, Siban had chosen a sheath that sat firmly against his back. By reaching over his head, he was able to grip the hilt and pull the sword free to drive it downward for immediate attack. Once they reached Alba Haven and before they left on their journey, Rell planned on rigging her sheath to sit the same way. Though she’d grown used to the constant tapping of her blade against her leg, she would prefer to have the weapon secure when she pulled it from the sheath.

As they made their way along the dock, the creak of ropes and ships knocking against the pier mingled with the slosh of water and the clatter of carts. The odor of fish, both fresh and rotting, hung in the air along with the smell of oil and wood. There were so many people, all bustling to some place or another.

A woman’s high-pitched laugh rose from somewhere behind her, but Rell didn’t turn. From the docks they followed the flow of the crowd and wound their way past the large gates of the city. People flowed in and out through the opening. Wagons, horse riders, and those walking merged into a giant congested river of people. The constant breeze kicked up swirling vortexes of dirt. Rell lifted her arm to shield her face from the biting sand. When the wind died down, she brushed her hand across her cheeks in an unsuccessful effort to remove the grit. Compared to the open sea, the overcrowding of the city was stifling.

Siban touched her waist. On one shoulder, he balanced the small trunk. His eyes continually scanned the area for what she assumed was trouble.

“The end of days is near!” A dirty man in a robe shook his finger in the air. “The flying scourge will bleed our lands of blood and spirit!”

Rell’s steps slowed to watch the proselytizer.

The man’s watery eyes leveled on the group, narrowing in on the three sisters. “A legion to lead us. Three to triumph.”

Juna stopped and stared for a second. “Is he talking about us?”

“His name is Malachi,” Siban said. “I used to think he was a crazy old monk, but after everything that’s happened—”

He let the rest of the statement hang in the air.

“Let’s get settled first,” Rhys said, starting forward again. “I think it would be a good idea to have a talk with Malachi later.”

“Agreed,” Gregory said.

“Angels!” Malachi’s eyes widened, his hands folding in prayer against his chin. “Do not forsake us.”

“He said the exact same thing to me when I first arrived.” Ravyn gave a little shudder. “It’s very disconcerting.”

“I’ll say,” Meran mumbled. She placed her hand against Gregory’s back and pushed him forward. “Let’s not linger.”

Something about the man’s intensity tugged at Rell. Though at first glance he appeared to be just another doomsayer preaching at the city gates, what he said struck a chord in her. She let her Tell ghost over him and touched the familiar taint of darkness. She refocused on the course before her but the monk continued to plague her mind.

He’d definitely been touched by the Bane somehow, but he didn’t possess the thick presence like Siban and she had experienced. Perhaps his faith kept him protected. She glanced back one more time. He still followed their progress, his hands remaining pressed against his chin in prayer.

Thoughts of the monk slipped away and were replaced by the bustle and life within the heart of the city. Shops crowded together on the narrow streets, their wooden signs hanging above the door, announcing their wares or services. People loitered in doorways, some brave enough to ask for money. Several cowered away from the group and rushed back inside the dark shelter of the rooms beyond the doorway. Woman leaned out of windows above the shops, waving and propositioning men passing by. Some were successful. Those who were not, stooped to exposing themselves, hoping to lure the men upstairs.

Fall had already touched Alba. Small fires burned next to many of the vendors whose stalls were set up in the city’s center. Perhaps it was the exhilaration of their trip and the excitement of arriving at Alba Haven, but Rell was not cold.

Their course circled to the right, consistently climbing in a spiral. The narrow crammed streets of the marketplace gave way to homes. Modest at first, the dwellings grew in grandeur. None were as elegant as Jacob Le Daun’s manor, but did speak of wealth. About two-thirds of the way up, the buildings took on a rundown feel. Again, people lounged in the doorways of what looked like abandoned buildings.

Eventually Rhys stopped before a massive gate. He lifted the iron knocker and pounded, the sound echoing against the buildings surrounding them. They waited.

Siban leaned toward Rell. “I used to man the door. Nobody had to wait this long.”

Rhys turned his head, smirking. “Would you like your old position back?”

Siban was quiet for a second, as if contemplating Rhys’s offer, and then sighed. “No, it appears I have been ruined for sedentary duty.”

“We all have, I think,” Luc said. “Pity.”

The grinding of a bolt drawing back dragged against the inside of the gate door. A chain clattered and the moaning protest of the iron hinges groaned when the long door began to inch open. Rhys waited until there was enough room to pass and then proceeded inside.

Rell stepped into another world. A cobbled path led off in different directions. Arches framed the walkways with simple but beautiful stonework. To her surprise, women carried folded blankets and baskets of fruit down one of the walkways. A man, who looked like a solider, led a horse toward what were probably the stables.

From behind the now-closed gate, a man appeared. “Lord Blackwell. We were not expecting you.”

“Geoffrey.” Rhys grasped the man’s forearm. “We didn’t have time to send a messenger ahead.”

Rell noticed that he didn’t add that he hoped they weren’t inconvenienced. From what Siban had told her, Rhys was the lord of Alba Haven and the people who lived within its walls were under his care and protection.

“I’m sure Nattie will be quite happy to see you.” A smile played at the man’s mouth. He turned to Ravyn. “Lady Ravyn, it is good to see you again.” He squinted, his eyes drifting to her Tell tattoo. “It appears much has happened since you left us.” His gaze scanned the group. “I can’t wait to hear the tale.”

She patted his arm. “And what a tale it is.”

“Take one of the other men and go to the city gates. There’s an old monk preaching the end of the world. Bring him here,” Rhys said. “If he’s unwilling to come with you, tell him the angels wish to see him.”

The man’s eyebrows rose in question. “Angels, my lord?”

“He’ll know what you’re talking about.” Rhys turned and headed toward the largest arch. “And after that I need a message sent to The Dragon’s Head Inn. Tell them we’ll be arriving tomorrow night.”

“Very good, my lord. I’ll take care of it.” Geoffrey called from behind him. “By the way, is it?”

Rhys stopped and looked back at him. “Is it what?”

“The end of the world?” The man’s tone held no hint of mirth.

“Let’s pray not.” In silence, Rhys led the group through the main arch and into the bailey.

Meran’s steps slowed. “Either I have gone round the bend, or I’m seeing spirits.”

Rell stared in the direction Meran pointed. “I don’t see anything.”

“I see them as well,” Ravyn said. “Alba Haven is full of ghosts. You’ll get used to it. I believe that’s part of being an oracle.”

“I’m fairly certain I will never get used to it.” Juna skirted the edge of the walk, as if putting as much room between her and the unseen spirits. “Ever.”

Two black doors loomed ahead of them. Shiny brass bands embellished the dark wood and glinted in the sun. Gripping the handles, Rhys pushed the doors open and strode in. The breath hitched in Rell’s throat as she tried to take in the expansive and magnificent foyer. Above her the ceiling soared, arching like the sky. A beautiful mural spread across the ceiling, the painting a detailed depiction of the night sky.

“Ah, it’s good to be home.” Siban inhaled. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

Never, in all the hours they’d spent together in the Shadow World, had he spoken of Alba Haven’s beauty, only of missing his home and the delicious meals. It was hard to place Siban in these surroundings. She’d only known him in the dank caverns or Le Daun’s manor. Suddenly she realized how little she truly knew about Siban’s life. Only that his family had been killed and his sister now sat in silence, cloistered in a distant abbey. A few nights ago he’d spoken of a lullaby his mother used to sing. But that was as much as he’d shared. He knew everything of her, but she knew nothing of his life beyond being a Bringer.

“Rhys!” The woman’s shout caused the entire group to turn toward a door at their left. “Thank the Sainted Ones, you made it back safely.”

A tall thin, extremely beautiful woman closed the distance between them. Her gray hair was plaited into a long braid and swung when she walked toward them.

“Nattie.” Rhys met her halfway across the foyer. Instead of hugging him, she gripped his biceps and held him at arm’s length and looked him over from head to toe. He didn’t resist. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Nattie.”

“As are you.” After a minute, she pulled him to her and squeezed. “We haven’t heard anything since Siban left.” She released him, but didn’t lower her hands. “Is everything all right?”

“For now, yes.” He shook his head. “There is much to tell.”

They walked toward the group. Nattie’s gaze immediately targeted Ravyn among the crowd. “And you.” Instead of hugging her, Nattie gripped her chin and twisted her head left and then right, scowling. “And what is this?” She tapped Ravyn’s Tell tattoo. “You didn’t get drunk one night and have that done as a jest, did you?”

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