Darkfire: A Book of Underrealm (2 page)

“Yet this one survived.”

Jordel nodded. “And not by accident. Few know of this, but the Mystics saved some of the weapons in secret, hidden from both the mages and the High King herself, and kept them as one of our most closely-guarded secrets. That is what makes it dangerous.”

Loren shook her head. “That, I still do not understand.”

“The dagger is not simply a weapon of fine make. It is imbued with power — magic to help the mage hunters track and slay wizards they were ordered to destroy. You saw one such power on the King’s road.”

“Xain could not touch me with his magic.”

“Just so. It is proof against his fire, just as it would be proof against any other wizard. The dagger has other gifts as well, more than I can explain just now. In time, I will help you unlock its power. But first we must find safety, and I am afraid that is in short supply in the land of Selvan.”

“You still have not made yourself clear. It has power, yes. Is that why the Mystics fear it so? Why would I be seen as a danger if it were found in my possession? I did not know its abilities.”

Jordel’s mouth soured as if he were chewing bad fruit.
 

“It has little to do with your knowledge, and more to do with the politicking that still holds too much sway in the nine lands. You see, the High King gave her mage hunters over into the service of the Mystics, then ordered them to have all such weapons destroyed. This was a royal decree, to be carried out upon pain of death. Yet when Mystics chose to keep some of the weapons intact, they became guilty of treason. They put themselves and our order at risk. Yet I might have done the same. The Fearless Decree might not last, and thus the Wizard Kings would return. If that were to happen, Mystics would need to end the threat.”

“I think I take your meaning at last,” Loren said. “You fear that if it were discovered that Mystics had kept these weapons, they would face the High King’s wrath. But I find that hard to believe. This happened many hundreds of years ago. Can such a decree still be held so dear?”

“It might not. Except that wizards have again grown in power, though they still cannot seat a throne. They established the Academy upon the High King’s seat, and since then have wormed their ways into positions of power in every court throughout the kingdom.” Jordel swallowed. “Twenty years ago they found a Mystic in possession of a weapon such as yours.”

Loren paled. “What happened to him?”

“He was put to the question, and died in the High King’s dungeons,” said Jordel, his voice growing heavy. “Yet he remained steadfast. He never revealed the truth: that the Mystics still keep other such blades in secret. Still the High King Enalyn, with wizards whispering in her ear, was full of wrath, and reaffirmed the Fearless Decree. If ever another weapon were found, she would know that the Mystics had been false in their promise.”

Jordel turned the dagger over in his hands, then held it out to Loren by the hilt. She almost feared to take it. Never had she thought to held a secret so terrible, it might lay an entire order of warriors to the ground. An order whose purpose she still did not fully understand. She took the dagger and slid it back into its sheath. Then her thoughts turned to Cabrus, and the constable Corin.

“Is that why some who have seen my dagger feared me so? Did they think I was one of you? A Mystic, working for some high members of your order?”

“Just so.” Jordel nodded. “Scarcely any know of such weapons. Most who do are Mystics. They have many agents throughout the nine lands. We are only fortunate that you have never met a high member of the Academy, for they would have taken the dagger and used it to terrible effect.”

“I understand much at last. Yet I am offered no comfort.”

“As I said. Most knowledge is a gift, but not all. And if the children were to know this tale, and lend it voice in a careless moment—”

“You do not need to describe it. I will say nothing.”

“Good. I trust you, Loren of the family Nelda. In the short time we have known each other, you have done much to earn it.”

Loren’s cheeks flushed. Never in the Birchwood had anyone placed much faith in her. Other than Chet — though he had never stated his feelings so plainly. So much of their friendship occurred without words.

“Gem and Annis will think we have left them.”

“Indeed,” said Jordel, moving to rise. “Let us sup then rest well, for tomorrow we have many leagues to cover.”

Loren followed Jordel through the oaks, pulling the edge of her cloak tighter, swathing the dagger in shadow.

two

JORDEL WOKE THEM FOR A meager breakfast early the next morning. At first he had let them handle their own foodstuffs. But after the first day’s ride, he had seen Gem stuffing his face by the fire. Then he took all their food into his own saddlebags, and carefully rationed each meal. Loren did not mind, but the children had complained terribly — especially Gem.

The boy groaned as he tried to gnaw on a roll of hardtack. Mayhap it was stale, or rocklike in nature — Loren had long ago given up trying to determine which. “You mean to starve me, Jordel! I am already nothing but skin and bones. Give me more, I beg you, or I will waste away and die, and the nine lands will lose a brilliant mind.”

“I have eaten less than you, though my body is far greater,” said Jordel, not looking up from his horse, securing Xain to the charger’s back in preparation for the day’s ride.

“The body requires less sustenance than the mind,” said Gem. “My thoughts range far and wide, and they burn the food in my belly faster than your brawny muscles, Mystic.”

“Keep your tongue hushed, Gem,” Loren snapped. “Would you have the whole of Selvan know who we are?”

His shoulders fell in embarrassment, then Gem turned sullenly to Loren. “There is no one for miles in any direction. Let the birds carry the tale of our passing, for all I care.”

“We must ride hard today,” said Jordel. “Tomorrow I hope to reach the Greatrocks southern tip, where lies the joining of Selvan’s Westerly Road and that from Wellmont. If we are lucky, we will arrive before my order and the King’s law. I have held out hope that the Dorsean invasion keeps them distracted, but then again it might not. Certainly the Mystics, at least, would have sent some riders, if Vivien returned with her tale.”

“What makes you so certain she survived?” Gem nodded at Xain. “That one’s fire took care of the rest.”

“Yet her corpse was missing,” said Loren. “We would do well to imagine the worst, and prepare.”

“Wise words, I suppose,” Gem shrugged. “And then, if she perished on the road, let it be a pleasant surprise.”

Jordel turned, and in his eyes Loren saw a fire burning. Gem blanched.
 

“Vivien is a Mystic of my order,” said Jordel. “She has taken no action except in keeping with our laws, and those of the King. Her death would be a loss to all the nine lands, and you will not so much as whisper otherwise again.”

Gem trembled as he spoke, his bravado finally fleeing as the Mystic finished. He turned his eyes to the ground and gnawed on his hardtack.
 

“I meant no offense. Only I do not wish to be caught by the King’s law any more than you. She was a mighty warrior, and a good woman, I am sure.”

Behind Gem, Loren saw Annis’ eyes flash. The girl had disliked Vivien from the start. Her opinion had not improved when the Mystic attacked their boat upon the Dragon’s Tail, nor when she pursued them out of Wellmont. Loren herself held no love for the woman, who had eagerly tried to kill the sellswords they found upon the road. Only Jordel’s mercy had stopped her.

Loren spoke before Annis could further stoke Jordel’s ire.
 

“None of us wish to be found, Gem. Ready yourself to ride, and quickly. Speed is our ally now.”

Rather than quell Annis’ dark mood, Loren saw the girl’s attention shift to Xain. Immediately she regretted it. The wizard had done her great harm, both in mind and body, and they all knew why their progress upon the road was slower than Jordel wished.

“Tis hard to ride with great speed when the horses are so overburdened,” said Annis quietly.
 

Loren heard the ire in her words. But the girl turned away and blushed, as if embarrassed, moving to help Gem pack. Jordel must have heard her, but he made no comment beyond a sharp frown and a deep gaze, both cast at Annis.

They readied and mounted without another word, and Loren’s world fell again into an endless string of rapid hoofbeats and vanishing road beneath Midnight’s hooves.
 

But soon enough, it began to rain. Though the hot sun had beat them like a stable boy ever since they left the King’s road, it now seemed that spring had come for one final storm. Fat pellets of water struck them like hornets, and they all raised their hoods.

“This is both a curse and a blessing,” said Jordel, his eyes to the sky. “If anyone lies in wait, we will be harder to see. But it slows us, and if we are indeed pursued, that may be disastrous.”

“It depends, then, on whether they are before or behind us,” said Gem. “But our road is set, and so what use is there in worry? There is precious little we can do either way.”

“A wise way of thinking, little scholar.” Jordel gave Gem the flash of a smile.
 

Loren could almost feel the boy puff with pride behind her. She hid a grin; Jordel no doubt meant to make Gem feel better after his earlier outburst. And it seemed to have worked.

For many miles the road ran beside a stream — a small branch of the Dragon’s Tail, flying down from the Greatrock Mountains to join the river at Selvan’s southern border. They had washed themselves on their first day of riding, and Loren could still imagine the touch of cool water on her prickled skin.

But they had left the stream behind early that first day, and now the land rose and fell in steep, rocky hills, the earliest and smallest foothills of the mountains laying ahead. The Greatrocks were hidden from view as often as not, though every time the land rose they could see that the road carried them true to their destination.
 

Not long after midday, they stopped to rest. Jordel turned them aside at a great cleft in one of the foothills, where a flat and rocky face shone white against the green grass. The rock curved up and over, forming a sort of half-roof that sheltered them from the rain. As soon as the horses had stopped, fetlocks brushing the mud, Annis and Gem flung themselves off with whoops of glee.

“A quick bite to eat. Then we move on.” Jordel dismounted, but left Xain slung behind the saddle.

Loren went to him, stepping close to speak quietly, though she doubted the children could have heard them over the rain. “I have thought about Annis’ words this morning,” she said.

Jordel looked wearily over at where Annis and Gem sat in the shelter, eating some of the salted beef he had given them as a rare treat. “Who could blame her anger? Xain’s actions in Wellmont were less than honorable.”

“Twice he might have killed her, and you as well. Yet you still have not explained why you undergo such risk to help him.”

“I do it for all the nine lands, and the people who dwell here. They will need his help, and the aid of others like him.”

“You have said that before. But what sort of men are like him? Liars? Men who would harm children without a second thought?”

“Those actions were not entirely his. The wizard ate magestones.”

“Indeed.” She shrugged. “What of it?”

Jordel looked at Loren in surprise. “I thought you might have guessed this already. There is an excellent reason that magestones are forbidden by the King’s law. They do not only grant a wizard great power, nor unlock hidden parts of their gift, such as Xain’s darkfire. They are like a poison in the mind, and bestow a terrible craving. Any wizard who eats a magestone will think of little else until they get another. If a wizard resists, their mind will twist until they are no longer in control of their actions. Their bodies, too, will suffer. That is why Xain harmed the Yerrin girl, and that is why he fled my care. Had I known he was under such dark influence, I might have done things differently.”

A frown found Loren’s face. It seemed to make sense; after all, Xain had never been a friendly man, but the magestones had made him a monster.

But then she remembered their travels on the Dragon’s Tail, after fleeing Redbrook. In her mind’s eye, she saw the greed in Xain’s face when he first beheld the stones. Now she turned to look at him lying across Jordel’s charger, and saw the rage twisting his features. It turned her stomach.

“He took them of his own will, knowing what would befall him,” said Loren. “And he never told
me
what might happen. I might have prepared. I will not so easily forgive him.”

“I do not ask you to. Understanding does not require forgiveness, but it may ease a heart stung by betrayal. And your thoughts of Xain may yet change when you see how he will suffer.”

Loren thought she knew something of that already; in Wellmont she had seen the wizard with his hair falling out, teeth cracked and broken, his skin sallow and sunken. He had told her he was poisoned by Vivien’s magic, and that only magestones could break the spell. Loren now knew that to be a lie.
 

She had no more words for Jordel, so she took her ration and sat in the hill’s shelter to eat, holding some hardtack into the falling rain to soften it and studying Xain as he dangled from the horse’s rear. His eyes held their smolder, even when Jordel forced some food into his mouth around the gag, and when they ended their rest to set forth upon the road again.

three

THROUGH THAT DAY THEY RODE, the rain beating on them more heavily the further they went. It kept them from driving the horses, and Loren saw Jordel’s frustration slowly mount. Every so often she caught the Mystic glancing back at Xain, as though he thought the wizard might have summoned the storm to plague them. But that was madness; if Xain could have conjured his powers, he would have cast off his bonds and fled. And he would not have brought rain to pester them, but more likely flame to make them ashes. She shuddered at the thought.