Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) (31 page)

“She said it would protect me as long as I wore it, since I--” he glances at Amei and trails off.

“Since you’re held by a curse that prevents you from wielding a weapon.” Rian finishes for him, and Eron’s lips tighten with anger at his secret being revealed.

“You dare—“

“She lied,” Rian says plainly. “The curse is lifted. It was when Lisabella crossed into Kythshire, just as you thought it would be.”

“It isn’t.” Eron protests. “I’ve tried every day since then to—“

“The amulet,” Rian interrupts again. I’ve seen him this way before. When his thoughts go faster than his words, it’s nearly impossible to hold a two-sided conversation with him. “It has many powers. She used it to convince you that you were still cursed. Used it like an enchantress’s trinket. Mixed with her own cunning, it was foolproof.” He shakes his head, laughing. “Brilliant, really, if you had any idea of its real power. But she knew you’d protect it if you thought it would protect you, and in the meantime, what a way to keep her hold on you, all the while keeping it safe.”

“You’re saying what? That the curse is broken?” Eron’s eyes widen and he races to the wall where a weapon rack sits empty. His shoulders slump, but Rian pulls me from the Half-Realm again.

“Will you lend the prince your sword, Azi?” he asks me, offering me a reassuring nod. Eron turns to me, eyeing the hilt at my shoulder with a mix of hope and disbelief. I lean away from him as he approaches me, his hand outstretched. The last thing I want to do is surrender my sword, especially to Eron. “Trust me,” Rian says again, and my hand finds the clip that holds the sheath to the harness at my back without a second thought. I feel the smooth leather slip into my free hand and I start to offer it to Eron before I realize what I’m doing. Beside me, Twig lets out a low, warning hiss and Rian’s eyes go wide.

“Oh! Azi! I didn’t mean—“ He claps his hands over his mouth and steps between Eron and me. “Azi, only give him the sword if you want to, okay? I’m sorry.” I look down at the amulet in one hand and my sheathed sword in the other and I blink as the power of Rian’s suggestion fades. “I’m sorry,” he says again, searching my eyes. “I forgot. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” I say, a little shaken by how easy it was for him to control me. My gaze catches on the growing Mark that curls just below his eye. I shake my head and look away as I tip my sword to Eron, holding tight to the sheath. “You can test it,” I offer quietly. I watch his hands close around the worn leather at the hilt and my stomach flips a little. I feel my jaw clench as his eyes widen and he pulls the weapon free. The blade gleams and flashes, reflecting the orange glow of the fire as he swings it this way and that, laughing.

“Thank you,” he says. “You’ve given everything back to me. Not just the sword, but...” he shakes his head. “I feel changed, lighter. I’m my own man again. I haven’t felt this way in years, not since she...” he shakes his head. “I see it now so clearly, everything she’s done. I’m in your debt,” Eron presses his fist to his chest and bows.

“No,” Rian says. “You aren’t. We did what needed to be done. You don’t owe us anything.”

“Viala. She’s defeated, then?”

“Stripped.” Rian says simply.

“That isn’t enough,” Eron says. “She means to take over Kythshire, to own it. We were to rule it together.” Amei looks away, shaking her head. “Forgive me, Amei, please,” he pulls her closer. “She had me convinced that it was a wasted resource, now that the Fae have died off from those lands. She’ll find a way to regain her power. She’s unstoppable.” I keep my expression neutral. Eron doesn’t need to know that the fae are thriving. I still don’t trust him. The less he knows about Kythshire, the better.

“It isn’t just her,” Rian comes to my side and helps me fasten my sword back into my harness. “Sorcerers from Zhaghen mean to claim the land for themselves.”

“If that happens,” Eron shakes his head. “It’s only a matter of time before Cerion falls.”

“Which is why our next course is an audience with your father. If you’ll excuse us, Your Highness?” Rian says, taking my hand. Eron looks from me to Rian and then to his wife. He shakes his head, obviously trying to make sense of everything that has just happened.

“Go,” he says. “And thank you.”

“Ready?” Rian asks, turning to me. When I nod, he pulls us back into the Half-Realm, leaving Eron and Amei to sort things out together. We step through the wall into the corridor beyond and he takes my face in his hands. “Are you okay?” he asks as he searches my eyes.

“I don’t want this,” I say, holding up the amulet with distaste.

“I understand,” he says, turning to Twig, who has just come through to join us.

“Kissing,” he grins. “They’re kissing. Amei is so happy. I’m glad. She’s very sweet. Always kind to Margy. Oh.” He looks down at the amulet in my hand as I raise it to offer it to him. “Ah, I can’t,” he says, waving his hands. “Sorry.”

“It won’t happen again, Azi. You’re the best person to hold it though.” Rian ducks his head apologetically. “I can’t either, it’s too powerful and I’m doing my best to keep it under control as it is.”

“Can’t we give it to someone else, then? Anod? Or one of the other masters?”

“Oh, no no,” Twig says, eyeing Rian. “No, it isn’t for Mages. It has to go back to Kythshire where it belongs.”

“What is it, exactly?” I ask, dangling the bauble from its chain as though it’s distasteful as a rotting fish.

“It’s,” Twig raises a finger and his mouth hangs open. He looks at Rian and then up at the ceiling thoughtfully, and back at the necklace. “It’s a...I know, let’s play!”

“There isn’t time,” Rian says sternly. “We’ve got to see the king straight away.” He turns abruptly and starts down the hallway away from the prince’s rooms into the main part of the palace. Twig darts off after him, leaving me alone in the dark, staring at the amulet that spins and sways lazily from its broken chain. Watching it puts me in a state of restfulness. I feel as though anything that happens doesn’t really matter, as long as it is with me. Holding it, I realize, brings me peace. I gaze at it, smiling lazily, until I’m vaguely aware of a flutter of midnight blue and creamy yellow stopping abruptly in front of me. The amulet is plucked from my hand and I blink rapidly to clear the sense of serenity that had held me so fast.

“Rian?” My voice comes out far more dreamily than I intend it to. As I look up at him, I can’t help but smile. Even covered in the Mark he’s so handsome, so clever and brave. His hands are so graceful and strong as he pulls a strip of bandage from his bag and wraps the necklace in it. The spell he murmurs over it is like a gentle melody that’s so pleasing to my ears that I feel as if I’ll swoon right there in the hallway. Then when he’s through, I feel foolish. The feelings are still there, of course, as they’ve always been, but not so strong. I shake my head. “What just happened?”

“I told you it’s powerful. The stone is one thing, but the setting is something else. It’s the setting, the gold part, that controls,” he answers, handing the swaddled trinket back to me. “It saps power from the stone, keeps it in check. Put it away, okay? I worked something over it to dampen its effects a little, but keep it wrapped. Don’t look at it. Now, let’s go.” He rushes off again as I tuck the awful thing into the pouch at my waist and jog after him.

“You want me to trust you,” I say as I catch up to his stride, “and yet you expect me to just follow you blindly. I need a plan, Rian. I need to know what we’re going to say to the king, and why it’s so urgent.” He spins to face me, his eyes half-wild.

“Are you joking? You’re joking, right?” His long fingers rake through his cropped hair and tug in frustration at his side locks. “Azi.” He takes me by the shoulders and I stare at the Mark that is now curled up over his left eyebrow. “Let me put it into perspective for you. This isn’t simply about protecting fairies and saving your mother anymore. Not that both aren’t incredibly important. Listen. The relationship between Cerion and Sunteri is shaky at best, and now six of their strongest Sorcerers have made camp in the only stronghold that separates us from the Outlands, where generations of men banished from our kingdom have waited for their chance for an uprising. So, not only are we talking about facing Sorcerers who are able to move mountains and raise a few hundred undead skeletons, but also possibly an army of thieves, outlaws, murderers, and generally immoral scum rallied by Redemption.

“But let’s go back to the Sorcerers, because if you think I’m frightening right now, imagine six of me, but not as lovable. Cruel, demented, and with the monarchy of Sunteri held tightly in their fists. Because you’ve seen Zhaghen, right? That’s what happens when the royals lose control of their Mages. But if you think it isn’t urgent, then by all means take your time.” He shakes his head and rushes off again with Twig trailing close behind, leaving me to turn over his words in my mind as we go.

The pain in my chest is a steady throb now, and I find myself rubbing it absently as the weight of Rian’s explanation settles over me. It’s too much for us to be expected to handle on our own. I wonder how much of it His Majesty is aware of, and how much we’ll have to explain to him. I know that Cerion has reserves of soldiers for such a situation, but I have no idea how many, or how prepared they are. As we approach the planning room where Twig has told us they’re meeting, Rian slows his pace. He takes stock of the six guards at the door and closes his eyes for a moment.

“This way,” he says, and leads us away from the room, through to the main foyer, and out of the palace. We walk through the gardens and past the wall and pause in the forest. The moon is low in the sky now, nearly setting. It’ll be morning soon. “We can’t just go in unannounced,” he explains. “We’ll have to present ourselves at the gate and be escorted. His Majesty is meeting with Master Anod, several of his advisors, and four of his generals. They have some knowledge already of what’s happening in Bane’s Pass, beyond what your father told him. Anod doesn’t know yet what’s happened to Viala.” Rian draws a hand up and over the back of his head, creating a deep blue hood that falls to cover most of his face. “You’ll have to do most of the talking, Azi. I don’t think they’ll trust me, looking like this.” I stare at him in disbelief.

“How do you know who’s in there? How do you know what they know, Rian?” His eyes are concealed by the shadow of his hood, but his lips press together tightly and he gives his head a very slight shake.

“I just know.” he says, and his Revealer causes the air to shimmer around us. He guides me gently by the arm toward the palace gates, instructing me all the way on what they need to be told. “The king will be glad to hear that Viala’s grip on Eron has been severed. You’ll need to explain that he was held by her enchantments. Hopefully, that will be enough to clear him of the charges of treason that have been set in motion against him.  You’ll need to tell him about the Sorcerers, and the keep, and what you saw in Zhaghen. Tell him that Redemption is rallying the banished, wait no, he knows that already. The sentries, he’ll need to know numbers. And that Viala has been stripped but they have her now. He’ll need to know that.”

“What?” I stop just at the edge of the park forest. “Who has her? You know where she is? Is she alive? Are Ember and Shush with her?” He turns to me, scowling.

“What do you mean? I told you that already. The Sorcerers claimed her, that’s why she faded away. They were able to pull her through to the keep. I suspect they used that mirror in the center of the room. It’s some sort of portal. We went over this.” I shake my head in disbelief and look at Twig, who shrugs.

“You never said anything about what happened to her,” I think back, trying to remember, but I’m sure I’m right.

“I told you...”

“When did you tell me?” I ask, watching as he presses his fingertips to his forehead.

“I could have sworn I told you, I’m sorry.” He sighs and drops his hands. “They have her, and the fae, too. They’re trying to restore her. Even now.” He takes a breath and squares his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Twig drifts up to Rian’s eye level. “They’re trying to steal back the magic you’re holding, right now?”

“Yes, I told you that. I told you both. I’m trying my best to hold onto it but it’s a constant struggle. We have to explain things to the king before I lose my grip. Can we please go now?” He tugs at my sleeve, his tone that of desperation.

“You didn’t, Rian. You didn’t say a word of any of this.” I cling to his arm now, afraid that if I let go I might lose him for good.

“Can’t do it,” Twig says, shaking his head.

“We have to. Have to see the king.”

“No.” Twig says firmly, darting closer to Rian. “If they’re trying to steal it back, then that means that there’s still a connection between you and Viala. Which means that if you walk into the midst of the king and all of his advisers, well—“

“That would be their way in,” I whisper, horrified. He was so certain of this course and I was so willing to follow him...I shudder to think of what might have happened if we did reach the king. Could they have used Rian as a weapon against him? Is the connection that strong? If it did happen, if he attacked the king, Rian would be killed for certain. Either way, it’s a smart move for the Sorcerers to send him straight to the throne.

“I’m too strong to allow that to happen,” Rian growls, pulling me forward. “Why is it you have no faith in me? Either of you? You, Azi. You’re supposed to love me. And Twig, I took that magic when no one else would. I’m guarding it with my life. Do you think I’d just let them steal it back, just like that? We’re going to the king. Now.”