The D'Karon Apprentice (24 page)

“The generals manipulated my people,” Myranda
said. “They robbed me of my home. Every drop of blood is on their
hands, and I would rather see myself shackled and locked away in
your land than see another life taken by them if I could stop
it.”

Grustim measured Deacon and Myranda, each
looking back with sincerity and urgency. In Deacon’s hand, the
message was still visible on the page of the pad.
D’Karon portal
opened to the south. Exits in Castle Verril and coastal Demont
fortress. Take immediate action.

As he held it, the stylus pulled itself from
his hand and rattled the bell tied to its tether, then scrawled in
a sweeping and elegant hand:
I am close to Demont’s fort. I’ll
go there right away. - IV

A moment later a more precise and formal
lettering read:
Acknowledged. Capital watch is on high alert. -
CL

And after that, this time in the careful hand
of a non-native writer, simply one word:
Investigate.

When Deacon was through reading, he looked up
to find Myranda still looking him in the eye.

“Everyone else knows the danger, Grustim. I
leave it in your hands because I must. I implore you. Do what is
right for your people.”

The Dragon Rider again measured the others.
Just as had been the case during the landing, and during the
flight, and during every step along the way, Grustim’s connection
to his dragon was more than evident. A dragon was a remarkable
beast. In one glance it looked upon others with the eye of a
predator, puzzling out weakness and intention with instinctive
precision honed by the simple fact that it was too often the
difference between life and death. In the next glance, there was
the wisdom and clarity that would be the envy of the finest
thinkers in the kingdom. In this moment, Grustim seemed to have the
same qualities to his gaze.

His eyes flitted to the map, still hanging
crisply in the air.

“You would have me believe that some calamity
has happened here,” he said, pointing to the red mark. “And I was
intended to deliver you here.” He pointed to a location farther
south and west. “It will take us a day to reach the prison, and
doing so will take us half a day off course. We’ve gained more than
that much back through young Myn’s dedication. We shall pass over
the place. If I see evidence of what you say, we shall act. But not
before.”

“Then let us not waste a single moment,”
Myranda said, climbing to Myn’s back.

Deacon dispelled the map and joined her. Garr
took two strong strides and leaped into the air. Half a heartbeat
later Myn was beside him.

#

At the same moment, in a carriage far to the
north, Ivy carefully closed the pad and stowed it.

“I’m really very sorry about this,” she said,
her motions suddenly stiff and her eyes darting. “I… there’s
something happening. There’s something… I can’t…” She took a
steadying breath. “I have to leave you at the nearest town. I’m
sure Ambassador Celeste will do a far better job of continuing the
tour…”

“What is happening?” asked Krettis.

“There’s a… the D’Karon have this way of
moving from here to there. Only they know how to do it. They can go
from anywhere to one of their strongholds like
that
,” she
said, snapping her fingers. “And Myranda says it just happened, and
not so far from here. I
need
to find out what’s happening
and what I can do about it.”

“So you will be visiting a D’Karon
stronghold?”

“I must, I really must. I’m sorry, but as I
said—”

“I shall join you,” Krettis said.

“Join? No. No, no, no.”

“I must strongly advise against it, Madam
Ambassador,” Greydon said.

“I said I shall join you, and so I intend
to,” Krettis affirmed.

“You can’t. You don’t understand, the
D’Karon—” Ivy stammered.

“Oh, I understand perfectly. As
charming
as you’ve made yourself, as
harmless
as
you’ve made pains to illustrate yourself to be, you’ve clearly done
everything you can to keep me from seeing any hint of the legacy of
war that we both know has
stained
your land and mine. And,
in a moment when you have not only the opportunity but the
obligation to visit a piece of this legacy, you are scrambling to
leave me behind. You want to ensure that this mask you’ve crafted
for yourselves as a nation remains firmly in place, even if it
means abandoning the very act of diplomacy devised to maintain
it.”

Ivy tightened her fists for a moment before
she noticed and eased them loose again. “It isn’t that. It is the
danger. You could be badly hurt or killed if this is one of the
D’Karon. Have you been
listening
to me as I described their
atrocities?”

“I have. I’ve also been listening as you
insisted that all that could be done to wipe them away
had
been done. So there should be no danger at all.”

“Clearly we missed some! Who knows what we’ll
find up there!”

“You have your guards, I have mine, and I
have been told you are a warrior of historic renown, something that
must be so or you would not be risking yourself. Surely if there is
a D’Karon or a similar threat, you will be capable of defending me
and my guard until we are able to withdraw. And if there is no
D’Karon, we shall finally have an opportunity to look into the
workings of the machine of war you insist they have created without
your will or desire. Or will I be sent home to my people with the
sorry news that the Northern Alliance still has too much to hide to
truly open their doors to the Tresson people?”

One of Ivy’s eyelids twitched, then both of
her eyes narrowed. “
Fine
,” she said. The ear nearest to
Celeste twisted toward him as he muttered instructions, but the
malthrope ignored them. “I’ll be taking Mr. Celeste, the carriage
man, and three of our guards. Select an equal number of
representatives, either on their own horses or to ride in this
carriage, and we’ll go. But we’re going in just a few minutes, so
act fast.”

“Excellent,” Krettis said.

Ivy thumped at the roof of the carriage.
“Stop here, Lennis. We’ve got an emergency!”

The carriage lurched to a stop. As soon as it
was stationary, Marraata, the attendant and record keeper, looked
nervously to the ambassador. She braced herself for the stiff wind
outside as Krettis opened her door and the pair stepped out. Ivy
and Celeste slipped out the other side.

Their journey had taken them quite near the
coast. They were riding along a carefully maintained road that
traced along the spine of a strip of elevated land. It gave them a
remarkable view of the local region. To one side, barely visible on
the horizon and gleaming with the amber glow of the approaching
sunset, was the Western Sea. To the other was a handful of
sprawling icy fields, some frost-dusted clumps of gray-green trees,
and the hint of mountains beginning to rise in the distance. Not
far ahead and below was the huddled little nook of a town that
would have hosted them for the evening.

“Okay, listen up!” Ivy bellowed, climbing up
the wheel of the carriage until she was nearly level with the
driver. “There has been a change of plans. Most of the delegation
will be continuing on to the next stop and staying there for a few
days. I’ve never been there, but I’m told it is really a lovely
place. I’m sure the Tressons will learn plenty. The rest of us need
to take a side trip.” She turned to the mounted soldiers who had
been leading the carriage. “I’ll be taking you three, along with
this carriage and a small group of Ambassador Krettis’s choosing.
With any luck we’ll all be back safe and sound in about two
days.”

She hopped down and came face to disapproving
face with Celeste.

“This is
not
wise,” he said.

“You saw what Myranda wrote. And you heard
what Krettis said,” Ivy said. “Besides, maybe if she sees what sort
of monsters they were, she’ll finally understand that we’ve been
telling the truth.”

“And if she is hurt or killed, we will have
in the eyes of Tressor assaulted a diplomat sent in the pursuit of
peace.”

“Mr. Celeste, I won’t let what the D’Karon
did once happen again. We’re pretty far from the front up here.
Some of these towns are as peaceful as any place in Kenvard has
ever been. I don’t want one of those horrid things bringing
violence here. What’s the point of preserving peace with the
Tressons if we let the real villains run free?”

“You aren’t properly outfitted for battle,
Ivy,” he said. “Leave this to the army.”

“I’m doing it, Mr. Celeste. I’m Chosen. This
is why I exist. I wasn’t ready for battle when this all started and
I still did what I had to do, and I’ve learned a lot since
then.”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “And
what if you lose control?”

“I won’t,” she said sternly.

“As I understand it, that isn’t necessarily
something you can guarantee. It is one thing for the D’Karon to
potentially hurt or kill the visiting Tressons. It is another if
you do it yourself.”

“This needs to be done. Nothing else
matters,” she hissed. “Now are you coming, or should I leave you to
conduct the rest of the delegation?”

“I was to be your adviser. I cannot do that
if I am not by your side,” he said.

Ivy looked at Krettis, who had assembled the
best of her personal guards and was climbing back into the
carriage. “Then we are going. It is my job to fight the D’Karon.
Your job is to lead and help the other guards, and you are going to
protect the Tressons. If anything endangers them, do what you need
to do, keep them safe from danger.” She took a breath and lowered
her voice. “And I mean
any
danger.” She put a hand on his
shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Good.” She opened her door to the carriage
again. “Now let’s go.”

#

Ether’s diplomatic journey had not begun
under the best of circumstances, but she’d at least made a cursory
effort to fulfill her role at first. She was quite poor at it, and
though she asked the questions of Ambassador Maka that she’d been
instructed were proper in such a circumstance, she made no effort
or claim to be interested in his responses. Likewise she would
answer any question he asked, but her near ignorance of the people
of the north and the things that mattered most to them led to dry,
flavorless answers. Since their discussion of family and purpose,
her engagement with the diplomatic proceedings had steadily
declined. She withdrew and introspected, sometimes allowing hours
to pass without even glancing at her guest. Maka took the unusual
behavior with almost saintly patience, taking the opportunity to
fill the carriage with stories of his land.

She turned her eyes to him as the words of
his latest observation and musing began to wash over her. It was
truly astounding to the shapeshifter how a creature with less than
a century of life could have gathered so many tales, and further
astounding that he seemed so eager to share them with a person he
knew to be disinterested.

“Ah! A sleigh. You know that my granddaughter
Maandaa does not believe such things exist?” Maka said, pulling
aside the curtain on the carriage window to admire the rough but
sturdy vehicle in the fields beside the road. “She is the daughter
of my youngest, Talla. They live quite near the edge of the desert,
if you remember. The little girl has never seen snow. I tell you,
if there was a way that I could bring her a handful as a gift, it
would be truly something to see her eyes when she touched it. Ah!
Perhaps someday she may come to this place and see it for herself.”
His wizened face creased with a wide smile. “Reason enough to do
our best to preserve the peace, yes?”

“I suppose,” Ether said distantly. “We have
arrived. I understand the intention of this visit is to hear a
performance of a lengthy musical piece composed by one of my fellow
Chosen.”

“Splendid! It will be wonderful to take in
some of the art of your kingdom. And this piece was written by a
friend of yours?”

“An ally.”

“Ah,” Maka said, nodding. “But one who would
call you
friend
.”

“The composer is a creature named Ivy, and I
feel quite certain she would not openly refer to me as a friend.
Our relationship is one of mutual animosity.”

He laughed as Ether opened the door and
stepped down. When it was clear he was having trouble, she offered
her hand to help him.

“The friend who does not like us, and who we
do not like,” Maka said, still chuckling. “We have a word for such
a friend in my tribe.
Duuwuldeya.
Friendly enemy. They say
every circle of friends has one that no one likes, and if you don’t
know the name of that friend, then it is you.”

Gregol hurried over to the pair with the
desperation of a parent trying to take a sharp knife from a child.
If Ether had any particular pride in the assignment she’d been
given, she would have been quite displeased with the blatant
distrust Gregol had in her ability to avoid creating some sort of
incident. As it was she was grateful at times to have the older
ambassador take Maka’s attention. With each passing moment Ether
found herself craving solitude all the more. The petty matters of
state were proving a frustrating interruption to a line of thinking
that she couldn’t seem to reach the end of.

Around her, the small cluster of servants and
helpers that poured from within each town to both serve the
delegation and separate it from the rest of the populace went to
work. Ether knew this town in the same way she knew most others. It
was a somewhat unremarkable feature of the landscape, no more
notable or interesting to her than the mountains rising up beside
it or the forests scattered around it. The streets were wider here
than in other northern cities, and though most of the homes were
squat cottages with sloped roofs and crackling fires within, one
was notably different. It was taller than the others, and much
larger. It could comfortably fit every last resident of the town
within its almost circular walls, and no less than four chimneys
were sending out streamers of smoke into the afternoon breeze. The
roof sloped sharply up toward each chimney, giving an almost
crown-like appearance to the structure that seemed overly artful
even by mortal standards.