The Splintered Eye (The War of Memory Cycle) (45 page)

Behind them, two unfamiliar people—a man and a woman.

Tangled in the thorns was Ilshenrir, his head bowed, a lantern clutched to his chest like it was the only light in the world.

A spike of nausea went through Cob.  He looked down to find himself barefoot and shirtless, in earth- and blood-stained breeches, the ground beneath him covered in hard snow.  There was forest around him and he still felt every root and branch, but it was not a dream; when he breathed in, his lungs hitched with the residual pain of the haelhene hooks, and two aching webs spread across his back.

He tried to speak, but his tongue lay dry in his mouth.  The back of his throat was scaly with old blood.  A shudder ran up his spine, not cold but horror for what he had nearly done, and he looked around once more as if he could catch Haurah and Erosei laughing among the trees.

But they were gone, the Guardian silent inside him.

You manipulative bastards
, he thought anyway.

“
Are you…  Are you awake now?” said Lark cautiously.  He recognized her as the one he had pushed, and grimaced, averting his eyes.

“
He stopped at least,” said Fiora.  “Ilshenrir, are you all right?”

“
As much as can be expected,” came the wraith’s hollow reply.

Closing his eyes, Cob concentrated on loosening the wraith’s restraints.  He made sure the thorns pulled away slowly, not certain if they could really hurt Ilshenrir but not wanting to find out.  As the last branch relaxed, he sensed the wraith rise, and regretfully met his gaze.

There was no accusation in Ilshenrir’s eyes, only gratitude, like a prisoner given a stay of execution.  It hurt worse than any glare.

“
I’m sorry,” Cob managed, his voice a rasp.  “I…  The Guardians…”

“
You were dreaming,” said Fiora.  “It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head.  “No.  It is.  I was about to—  I’m sorry, Ilshenrir, y’didn’t deserve that.  They baited me.”

The wraith bowed his head slightly.  “You have spent several days in deep sleep, to mend from the wounds inflicted upon you by my kind.  I am not surprised, nor am I offended by your Great Spirit’s response.  I am only glad that you changed your mind.”

“
I wouldn’t’ve tried t’ hurt you if I’d known.  Or Lark.  Lark, I’m sorry, I—“

“
Kinda getting used to it from you,” Lark said, smiling wryly.  Then she held up her hands, as if reading something in Cob’s expression.  “Not that you’d do that if you knew what was going on!  It’s all right, it was just a mistake.”

“
But I could’ve—“

“
You stopped yourself,” said Fiora.  “Everything’s all right.”

That’s not true
, Cob thought, looking at them. 
If I hadn’t been interrupted, I would have hit him until the light fled, just because the Guardians pointed me at him.

I’ve gone to the Dark.  For all their words, it’s really happened.  I’ve let the Dark in and now it’s made a monster of me.

But none of them looked frightened now, only worried.  Next to the women, the wolf-Arik whined, then cautiously padded forward to tuck himself against Cob’s leg.  Cob could not help it; he crouched down and buried his hands into the wolf’s fur, and the wolf pressed up against him, sniffing all over then resting his furry chin on Cob’s shoulder.  It was all Cob could do to not burst into childish tears.

As if she could read his mood, Lark said, “Let’s get inside, huh?  Get you something to eat.  And a wash.  And some new clothes—though since you’re Cob, Destroyer of Tunics, that probably won’t last long.”

Despite himself, Cob snorted.

“
Ilshenrir, you should come too,” she continued.  “We need to talk about what we’re gonna do, and you’re part of it.  The haelhene can’t possibly fall on us the one night you’re not watching for them, right?”

“
Don’t say things like that,” Fiora snapped.  “You’re gonna get us cursed!”

The wraith nodded slightly, ignoring Fiora’s outburst.  “They do not like to fly at night.  I will come.”

Lark clapped her gloved hands together.  “Great!  Now let’s get the pike out of this forest and back inside.  Oh, Cob, allow me to introduce our hosts, Mother Matriarch Vriene and her husband Sogan the bear.  You’ve been sleeping in their basement.  I guess we have to let you have a bed now.”

Cob blinked and looked to the man and woman who had hung back.  The woman smiled and inclined her head slightly; she looked pleasant and motherly in a refined way, and he returned her smile cautiously.  The big burly man beside her appeared human but felt malleable to Cob’s lingering Guardian senses, the same way Arik did.  As if he could reach out and push him and he would change.

“Uh.  Bear?” he said intelligently.

The woman smiled.  “My goddess Brigydde is called Tamer-of-Beasts for a reason.”

Sogan grunted.

Cob rubbed at his temples, then raked fingers through his tangled hair and sighed.  A bath and food and fresh clothes sounded like a blessing right now, and as little as he felt he deserved it, he knew the others would drag him along whether he liked it or not.  There was something to be said about having strong-willed friends.

Mostly curse-words, but now and then a ‘thanks’ was in order.

“
Thanks for havin’ us,” he said, bobbing his head to the Mother Matriarch.  She returned it pleasantly then gestured for them to follow, and he regained his feet and gave Ilshenrir another apologetic look.  The wraith touched his shoulder lightly, not quite smiling.

“
You are forgiven,” he said.  “Let us make our plans.”

Cob nodded, and with the wolf at his side he moved after the others toward town.  In his heart, though, it would not be so easy to leave the dark woods behind.

*****

A mark later, after he had scraped and scrubbed and gargled up unpleasant amounts of reddish phlegm, Cob sat at the Damiels’ table in clean clothes, awaiting dinner.  Arik was in the washroom now; by Vriene’s command, while he was in human form he was to clean himself and wear clothing like everyone else.

Cob approved.

The other four chairs held Fiora, Lark, Dasira and Ilshenrir, while Mother Matriarch Vriene bustled about the kitchen and Sogan hulked in the corner.  The big man—or bear—did not seem put out at being barred from his own table, but his gaze followed his wife as if someone might swoop in at any moment and steal her away.

Cob watched Dasira over his mug of tea.  She was the only one who had not chased him out into the snow, and he knew why; he remembered seeing her before his capture by the haelhene, seeing the threads beneath her skin.  Feeling her essence, the same as Darilan’s.

Watching her now, he could sometimes glimpse the man he had known in the curve of her mouth, the cool slant of her eyes.  But most of the time she just looked like herself—this stranger who had come along supposedly at Lark’s behest.

She avoided his gaze.  He supposed that, in her situation, so would he.

He did not know what to feel, and so he had decided not to feel anything.  It was hard to make his nerves agree with him, though; his shoulders were knotted with tension, and he kept catching himself clenching his teeth.  He could not tell if he was angry or anxious or maybe just incredibly hungry, and so, as much as he wanted to grab her by the collar and demand answers, he kept quiet.

He would find her later.  This was no one’s business but their own.

Lark was chatty, filling him in on the events he had missed.  He nodded as if listening.  Across the table, Fiora smothered a yawn; it was late evening, and he had evidently roused the whole house from after-dinner lassitude by throwing open the basement door and stalking out, staff in tow.

Ilshenrir sat beside Fiora, straight-backed, his hands folded on the tabletop.  His hood was down and he looked mortal, tired, yet alert.  His pale citrine gaze followed Cob’s every motion, as if expecting a sign or a strike but resigned to accept it.  Cob could not look at him without feeling guilty all over again.

“
And then you woke up,” said Lark.  “I guess that’s it.”

“
How do you feel?” said Fiora.

Cob grimaced.  There were so many answers to that.  “Fine,” he said.  “Recovered.  I’m ready for Haaraka, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Not until the morning,” said Vriene from the stove.  The smell of frying root vegetables and mushrooms tickled his nose.  “Guardian or not, you’ve missed too many meals and too much proper rest to go running off in the night.  Nor can you expect your friends to stumble after you.”

“
Um, we should talk about that,” said Lark.  “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up so we can figure out our plan.”

Cob raised his brows at her.  “We go into Haaraka.  We get me unbound.”

“But then what?”

“
I kill Morshoc.”

“
Yes!” said Fiora, sitting up from her slump, eyes bright.  “That’s what I’ve been telling them!  It’s not enough to just get you free; we have to deal with the monster that bound the Guardian to you in the first place.”

“
So that means we’re going to Daecia City?” Lark said, shaking her head.  “It’s a crazy idea.  And if we are, I’ve got a lot of preparing to do.  I need to contact the Kheri, get us new papers…  There’s only so much the Trifold can do, kind as they’ve been.”

“
True, we do not dabble in crime the way our Cantorin sisters seem to,” said Vriene.

Fiora made a face.

Cob eyed Lark over his mug.  “Does that mean you’re not comin’ in?”

The southern girl shrugged.  “I’d like to.  Morgwi knows I’d be the first Kheri to step across the barrier in….ever.  But look.  Whatever you do in there, Morshoc might be able to feel it, right?  I’ve been thinking about it and he’s been on your tail starting in Bahlaer.  Maybe he’s distracted now, or maybe all our running and hiding has thrown him, but it’s obvious that he has some way to find you.  So if you do something to piss him off—like, say, breaking your bonds—I’m pretty sure we’ll have to start running immediately or else bring his wrath down on us.  No time to stop back here and browse the shops for the last few things we need.”

“But that’s why you’re comin’ in,” Cob said.  “So we can all go together.”

Ilshenrir cleared his throat softly.  “I can not cross the barrier.  It would imprison me.”

Cob looked at him, frowning, then to the washroom door as it cracked open and freshly-scrubbed Arik peeked out.  The skinchanger gave a weak smile and said, “I would be useless there.  Worse than useless.  I am a little wolf, an enemy to the cursed wraith.  It will eat me and not think twice.”

“
So…all right, Arik and Ilshenrir can’t go.  And you won’t,” he said, gesturing to Lark, “because we might need stuff.  Anyone else?”

“
I stay with Lark,” said Dasira.

That did not surprise Cob, but still it angered him.  “So you all followed me this far and now you’re gonna stand at the barrier and say ‘sorry, we can’t come in’?”

“I’m coming with you,” Fiora said determinedly.

From the doorway, Arik gave Cob a broad wink.

Cob squelched the urge to throw the mug at him.  Instead, he gave Fiora a nod of thanks and sat back in his chair to glare at everyone else.  Lark and Dasira looked away uncomfortably; Ilshenrir simply bowed his head.

Exhaling his anger, Cob said, “Fine.  I know you’ve all been through a lot t’ help me.  I won’t hold it against you.  But I don’t like the idea of separatin’.  If somethin’ happens in Haaraka, you’ll never know about it.”

“I will monitor the situation via the barrier,” said Ilshenrir.  “I have studied it closely in these past few days.  By crossing into the domain of the Carad Narath—the Thorn Protector—you will cause an aberration in the energy of the land that will be reflected in the barrier.  What is done to you will be visible in its responses.  I do not know that I can track you, but I will be aware of the unraveling of your bonds, as the Guardian’s freedom will change the balance of power within the land.”

“
And if you need to contact us, you can do it through Ilshenrir,” said Lark, digging around in her coat.  She withdrew a chunk of crystal on a cord and held it out to Cob.  “It’s his.  Probably you can do something Guardian-ish to it and he’ll feel it.”

“
Just so,” said the wraith.

Cob accepted the crystal doubtfully.  “We need more of a plan, not jus’ ‘go in there and poke us if you need us’.  It’s a land full of wraith-souled necromancers, right?  Two of us against all of them…”

“What can six of us accomplish there that two can’t?” said Dasira.  “This isn’t about force of arms.  It isn’t even about watching each other’s backs.  Like you said, it’s full of necromancers.  If you can’t stand up to them alone, then none of us can help you.”

He grimaced, but she was right.  Leaving his companions out here would, at worst, spare them the death he might bring upon them.  At best, it would allow them to get on with the hunt for Morshoc that much quicker.  “Fine,” he said.  “Four stay and two go.  Still, pike you all for backin’ out.”