Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (40 page)

Gavin gathered Daia, Edan, Calinor, and Jophet together in the upstairs library and explained his plan. When he told Daia she would stay behind, she simply nodded, though he saw the longing and regret in her eyes. Once this business was over and he had his people back home, he would spend some time figuring out a way to shield her conduit from those who would steal it for themselves.

He’d employed Cirang to re-etch both of his summoning runes, and put them, along with the Rune of the Past, the Rune of Exchange, and the Nal Disi, into his knapsack. He might not need them all, but better to go prepared than wishing he’d brought them along. With everyone dressed in mail and equipped with their weapons of choice, Gavin slung the knapsack onto his shoulder once more.

He told Edan and Calinor what to expect when they stepped into the vortex, and they said a quick farewell to Daia and Jophet. Gavin hated leaving her behind as much as she hated being left. The longing and concern in her eyes struck him in the chest like a fist. He gripped his two companions by the forearms, opened the vortex, and stepped in.

As in their own realm, they were on an island in Lake Athra, but there were no buildings, only a couple dinghies resting near the water’s edge, and a few men standing on the shore, fishing. There was a low, wooden bridge connecting the island to the mainland, where a village lay.

While his companions recovered from the dizziness of traveling across realms, Gavin used his hidden eye to search for his people. Finding Feanna’s haze would be next to impossible here, where everyone else’s haze was predominantly kho, but if she was with the others, or even the Cyprindians, he should be able to spot their zhi-bent hazes amongst the kho. Hopefully where he would find them, she would also be.

He lifted his mystical vision high into the air and searched as far as he could see, which was only as far as Saliria in his own realm. “They’re not here,” he said. “Maybe they’re in the green realm.”

“Your friends are here, Emtor,” the Guardians said.

“They are? They must’ve been taken somewhere,” he said, remembering how the Callers had whisked Daia away to the Baron’s palace and him to some sort of gaol.

“Can you see where?” Edan asked.

“No, they’re too far. We’ll have to go back and travel on horseback. I can come here myself long enough to search for them and bring you when we’ve gotten close enough.”

“They’re far away, Emtor. Across the body of water you call the Quirjan Sea.”

“What?” Gavin said loudly. “Bloody hell.” Why did everything have to be so damned difficult?

“What’s wrong?” Edan asked.

“Gavin,” Calinor said. His eyes were locked on the fishermen, and his hand curled around the hilt of his sword. “We got their interest.” The four of the kho-bent fishermen huddled together, watching the three battlers.

“Are they all together?” Gavin asked.

“Yes, Emtor. They’re in a holding cell. They’re in danger.”

“O’course they’re in danger. They’re in this bloody kho-bent realm.” Gavin explained the problem to his companions.

“How’re we s’posed to get there without bein’ captured?” Calinor asked.

Gavin thought about it for a moment. “We’re not.” He put disguises on them all, fashioning them after the four fishermen to conceal their armor and weapons. “We’re going to give ourselves up. Keep weapons sheathed. If they don’t know we’re armed, we got a good chance o’rescuing our people and getting back in one piece.”

He led the way across the bridge and into the village. The valley looked so much larger without the city of Tern sprawled across it. It was thickly forested with pine- and aspen-like trees, though their needles and leaves were a dull yellow-green instead of the rich green colors he was used to. He wished some remnant of the valley’s natural beauty had been left untouched in his own realm. Maybe he’d encourage the residents of Tern to plant more trees.

The village people watched them with alarm, asking where they’d come from and who they were. Their unwelcoming shouts became threats, and though Edan and Calinor didn’t understand their words, no one could miss the malice in their tones or faces. Both men walked close beside Gavin, watchful and ready to defend him.

Gavin stopped in the center of the village and looked around at the people, who shook their fists and shouted, red-faced, at the intruders. Some arrived with brooms and hoes and shovels.

“Go away, pink mouths!”

“We don’t want you here!”

“Get out of our town!”

They inched forward, growing bolder with every passing moment. Calinor and Edan grew tenser, ready to fight.

“Where’s the Clout?” Gavin yelled. His deep voice carried well enough that at least some of the villagers heard him over their own shouting. “Summon the Clout, or we’ll bring down fire to raze this village.”

The crowd parted, and two Clout stepped forward. As before, their chests were bare and perfect, their faces hidden behind black masks.

He felt Calinor twitch beside him, ready to draw and fight. To the Clout, he said, “Ah, there you are. Where’s your friend?”

“So the Wayfarer has returned,” the Caller said in a raspy voice. Dressed in a full-length, black robe with a hood that shadowed its face, the Caller pushed its way between the two Clout. “The Baron is mighty upset with you.”

“No doubt. He has my wife, and I want her back.”

The Caller tilted its head for a moment. “He wishes me to relay to you that he has traded your people to the Baron Flisk Neldkmod of Nostthmosf. They’re being held in capitol of the Strihblye district of northern Lynnrdild. You’ll need to negotiate with him.” After a moment, it added, “The Baron Hexx Gnorglsht offers to assist you in your negotiations in exchange for one of your companions.”

“Why does he want one of my companions?”

“It is always wise to have zhi essence on hand. One never knows when one will be injured by an invader’s assault or sickened by the diseases he carries.”

The blood drained from Gavin’s face. They wanted to suck the zhi essence from Edan or Calinor. That would kill them, probably painfully. He would give himself up before he let that fate befall either of his friends. “Take us to the Baron Flisk whatever his name is. And tell Baron Hexx that if he takes either of my companions against their will, he’ll find himself summoned to my realm and tortured for as long as it takes to get my people back safely.”

Chapter 53

“Tortured?” Edan asked with a sardonic expression. “Truly?”

Gavin shrugged. “They’re kho-bent. I got to talk to them in ways they can understand. Hold on. We’re going for a—”

A strong wind whipped through him, loud and stinging against his face and neck. When it was gone, he was in a large room, surrounded by people of all nationalities.

“Move out of the circle,” a Nilmarion man said, pointing to a crudely drawn circle on the ground. “That’s where the new ones arrive.”

Gavin guided Edan and Calinor out of the circle, and others moved away to make room. Though he stood a head taller than most, there must have been eighty or ninety people in the room, many with honey-colored hair. With his hands cupped around his mouth, he shouted, “Feanna!” Heads turned towards him, but none with his wife’s face.

“King Gavin,” someone yelled. He recognized Tennara’s gray-streaked brown hair as she made her way over. Others gaped at him in awe. Whispers of “It’s him!” and “King Gavin is here!” began to ripple across the room, followed by, “We’re saved.”

He shook hands with Tennara. “Jophet’s worried about you.”

“Norna and I were taken maybe six or seven hours ago.”

Gavin looked around at the people gathered around. “Where’s Norna?”

“Dead,” Tennara replied. “They killed her almost right away. The only reason they’ve not slain me yet, I believe, is because others have come, and they were chosen first.”

“Chosen for what?”

“We don’t know, exactly,” she said, “but we hear their screams.”

He continued to scan the tops of heads for his wife. He envisioned a joyful reunion. He thought she would run joyfully into his arms, and he would sweep her up and kiss her passionately. “Feanna!” he shouted again, louder this time.

“I haven’t seen her,” Tennara said. “She’s been missing since yesterday, though, I hate to say.”

“You’re King Gavin of Thendylath?” The man who’d spoken was brown-skinned with long, black hair tied back and intelligent eyes. Though he spoke the common language, he wore a foreign style of clothes that Gavin didn’t know. As King of Thendylath, he probably should be able to identify people’s nation by their clothes or accent or tattoos. Or maybe he should hire another Supreme Councilor to worry about foreign relations.

“Kaoque,” Edan said. “And Tokpah. I’m glad you’re both still alive. King Gavin, I’d like to present—”

The slender man bowed. “I am Kaoque Ewhirk, Twelfth Emissary to Lord Ruler Cicoque of Cyprindia, and this is my protector, Tokpah Woksu, Warrior Chief of the Eighteenth Battalion of the Cyprindian Force.” At that, the tall, muscular man behind Kaoque inclined his head. He was half-naked, wearing only a leather skirt and boots and a small breastplate held in place over his heart by leather straps. Such a thing wouldn’t protect a battler from other fatal wounds, and so it puzzled Gavin why a warrior chief would rely on that as his sole source of protection. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Kaoque said.

“Likewise.” Gavin didn’t have time to play the gracious host. People’s lives were in danger here, not the least of whose was Feanna’s. He used his hidden eye to scan the captives for her haze, but he didn’t see her. Even when he raised his mystical vision to view a wider area, there was no sign of her.

Two others appeared within the circle, dizzy and disoriented. The others beckoned them to join the rest of the crowd outside the circle. The fact that people were still coming and the room wasn’t yet overfull worried Gavin. He had to put a stop to this, but first he had to understand what was going on.

“People arrive in that circle, but how do they leave?” he asked.

“A door opens,” Tennara said, “and three men come in—two battlers and a mage. They choose someone, and their target is unable to move. He gets dragged away by one of the battlers, and that’s the last we see of him.”

“One of them isn’t like the other two,” someone else said. “It’s... dead. It has no life force.”

“He said the creature that comes for us is dead,” Kaoque said. At Gavin’s surprise, he explained, “I was born with a magical ability to understand and be understood. This is a requirement to begin training as Emissary, though I have also learned to speak eight languages.”

Gavin gaped at him with awe. Kaoque had the same magic for understanding that Gavin had received from the Rune Stones. “You don’t need to translate for me. I got the same magic.”

Everyone watched him with hopeful anticipation. Everyone except a group of men at the other side of the room. Their attention was on something on the floor. Gavin heard soft thuds and grunts of exertion—the sounds of someone being beaten.

“Over here,” he said to Edan and Calinor and made his way through the crowd towards the group. He began pulling people out of the way to get to the heart of it. A few people were hunched over, punching someone. Others were kicking.

“Hey now, what’s going on here?” he asked. Had they overwhelmed a Clout?

“Those monsters are responsible for us being here,” one man volunteered.

Gavin continued to pull people back and push his way through them. There on the floor, bloodied and lifeless, was a golden-furred Elyle. “No. Stop.” He stood astride her broken body possessively, commanding everyone with his sheer size to back off. “This creature was brought here like you were. She’s not o’this realm and had no part in any o’this. She’s a victim, first o’whoever brought us here, then o’you. Back the hell off.”

Some of them grumbled, and others hung their heads in shame. When he saw that the mob was obeying, he knelt beside the Elyle and put a hand on her shoulder. It heated immediately to a blazing fire. At least she was still alive. He used his ring’s connection to Daia to tap into her conduit, and he healed the Elyle. She was zhi-bent, and as far as he could tell, here without her complement. When at last she was healed and conscious, he helped her sit up. His muscles quivered with exhaustion, reminding him of what Jennalia had told him—that his body was refilling the essence he’d spent to heal the Elyle.

She cowered away, her hands up defensively and her eyes brilliant yellow. She began to emit a shrill, frightened whistle.

“It’s awright,” he told her. “I’m the Wayfarer, and I’ll protect you. I won’t let them hurt you anymore. Where’s your complement?”

A bit of green came into her eyes when she looked at him, but returned to yellow when she gazed around at the onlookers. “He’s silent. I don’t hear him.”

Gavin wondered if this mob had already killed him. “Was there another like this one?” he asked, looking around at the curious, watching faces.

“Two,” a woman said, “but they took them right away.”

“How long ago since the last was taken?”