Exile's Return (Book 1) (12 page)

This time, Robert did smile. ‘Oh, I think you will. But have no fear, we won’t be handing you to the Guilde. You see, what you did tonight is, well – here, let me show you.’

Not taking his eyes from her face, he flicked his left wrist in a movement so familiar now he could do it in his sleep. He held up his hand for her to see. ‘Do you know what this is?’

‘It looks like a stone from a river. A white stone,’ she replied, edging closer despite her obvious wariness.

‘That’s exactly what it is – or rather, what it was. Now, with some help, it has become an
ayarn
.’ He paused. This was the point of no return. Taking a deep breath, he continued, ‘It is a tool sorcerers use to focus and direct their
powers. It can also act as a shield to hide discovery by another sorcerer. It’s nothing special in itself, nothing more than a common stone – but no sorcerer is ever without one.’

Her mouth opened – then snapped shut as the meaning of his words sank in. Abruptly she said, ‘I don’t believe you. Sorcery doesn’t exist any more. If it did people would know about it – and they don’t. This is just some stupid game.’

Robert shook his head slowly. ‘Just watch.’ He took another deep breath and focused his eyes on the stone. With comfortable familiarity, he reached down deep inside himself to the place where his power dwelt. Raw and formidable, its strength was controlled only by the
ayarn
 – and years of practice. Even now, after all this time, Robert was still awed by the potency of its force, the ease with which he wielded the power. It provided him with his sharpened Senses, the strength to perform the impossible – and more problems than he cared to admit. Nevertheless, he would never choose to be without it. It was too much a part of him, of his soul.

Feeling Jenn’s eyes upon him, Robert pushed the power into action, sent it through the
ayarn.
As the seconds passed, the firelight died away.

Then – slowly – a tiny blue light appeared in the centre of the stone. At first it grew only gradually, then quicker, until it became a narrow rod rising from his hand. It rose higher and higher until it almost reached the roof and then it suddenly burst, plunging them all into darkness again. There was a breath of wind and the fire sprang to life once more.

Robert looked up from the
ayarn
and found Jenn staring at him, her eyes open in wonder. ‘That … that was sorcery? That’s why you think I moved the bridge? Because you’re a …’

‘Exactly.’

She put the pieces together. ‘That’s how you knew about Arlie’s punishment – because it’s not just a story to you – and that’s why you helped me even when you knew it was the Guilde who were chasing me? Because it was the Guilde who killed the last of the sorcerers.’

She stopped for a second, glancing away. Then her eyes darted back to him. ‘Is that what happened before you left Lusara? Did the Guilde find out what you are?’

‘What?’ Robert scrambled to keep up with her but she’d already moved on.

‘And you think I am a sorcerer?’ She laughed ironically. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t see how you think I did something to that bridge. Why could it not have been you? Or your brother?’

‘Because once you know you have powers, you know when you’re using them. Often the first time comes as a surprise. It did with me – of course, what I did was nowhere as spectacular as what you did today.’

‘And you’re sure it was me?’

‘Positive.’

She shook her head again and slumped back against the wall. Beside her, Micah companionably reached over and patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the idea.’

She turned on him, suddenly suspicious. ‘Not you, too?’

He shook his head, ‘Alas, no. Sometimes I feel quite left out.’

Jenn stared at him for a moment then began laughing again.

‘I don’t see what’s so amusing,’ Finnlay grunted.

Jenn ignored him. ‘So I pulled the bridge back long enough to get Micah across?’

‘Yes,’ Robert replied. ‘You did it using the same kind of power that my brother and I have. There are not many of us around any more and we like to keep our existence secret – for obvious reasons.’

She thought about that for a moment then, frowning slightly, she moved forward. ‘And what was that thing you had, that stone? Can I see it?’

Feeling Finnlay’s eyes on him, Robert held it out for her to take a closer look. With any luck, this wouldn’t be too difficult.

Her hand reached out but she paused. ‘May I touch it?’

‘Of course,’ he said casually, ‘it’s just a stone.’

Moving a little closer she said softly, ‘But how did you make that light? How …’

Her fingers hovered above the
ayarn
and Robert felt a strange tingle in his hand. He frowned, not recognizing the sensation. The tingling intensified as her hand came closer and he was about to say something when she touched it – and a flash of light shot out of his palm throwing him back hard against the wall. For a second he lay there dazed, then everything went black.

*

‘Robert! Robert, can you hear me?’

Grey fog clouded his eyes, a morass of wallowing shadows. He struggled against them, trying to clear his vision. As they gradually subsided he became aware of a searing pain running up his left arm, pounding in his head.

‘Robert!’

‘Yes … I hear you … Finn,’ he croaked. Turning his eyes towards the voice, Robert could see the concerned face of his brother and above him the thatched roof of the shack. He pushed himself up and groaned as the throbbing in his head intensified.

‘Don’t move.’ Finnlay reached over for a water bottle and held it to Robert’s mouth.

The cool liquid was like a balm on his burning throat and he drank greedily. As he handed the bottle back to Finnlay, he turned to the other side of the room. ‘Jenn,’ he said suddenly, moving to get up. ‘Is she …’

Martha crouched over the girl. ‘She’s alive. Unconscious, but alive.’

‘It didn’t touch you?’

‘No. Just you and Jenn. I’ve never seen that happen before. What was it?’

‘I don’t know.’ The pounding in his head subsided to a dull throb and with Finnlay’s help, Robert stood. His left arm still burned but he had to see Jenn, had to know she was all right.

As he knelt down beside her, Micah glanced at him with
a look which, despite his shock, bordered on wry humour. ‘I thought you knew what you were doing.’

‘Aye, so did I.’ Turning to Jenn, Robert tried to find any sign of life in her face. Eyes closed and with a face as white as snow, Jenn barely breathed. Not daring to touch her, he leaned forward and called her name.

Slowly, her eyes opened and locked on his. They focused and she gave him a weak smile. ‘Yes?’

‘How do you feel?’

‘I feel fine,’ she whispered. ‘But you …’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ he shook his head. Strictly speaking, she should be dead – a flash like that would be enough to kill. Not that it had ever happened before – at least, not to him. And why should it happen now? There was no reason at all. He reached out to help her sit up but the moment he moved his left hand pain flashed through him like lightning. He gasped, suddenly dizzy, and Finnlay scrambled to his side.

‘By the Gods, Robert, look at your hand!’

Robert lifted his arm to the light. His hand was red and burned, his fingers clenched in a tight fist. Steeling himself against the pain he slowly released the fist, opening one finger after another until his palm and the stone that laid there were revealed.

‘Serin’s blood!’ Finnlay swore, and with good reason, for the smooth river stone which had once been alight with fire now lay broken in two, split through the centre.

Robert stared at it for a long time. That small familiar shape was now gone and replaced with something entirely different. He could hardly recognize it, and yet he knew it was his own
ayarn.
The pain in his head subsided and was replaced with a sensation less familiar but no more welcome. But fear was a healthy thing and he took a deep breath before turning his gaze back to Jenn.

‘How did she do that?’ Finnlay murmured breathlessly. ‘No one can split an
ayarn.
It’s impossible!’

‘Obviously not.’ Robert sat back and, with his right hand, carefully picked up the pieces of the stone. He slipped them
into a fold of his shirt and got to his feet. ‘It seems we’ll be going to that Gathering after all.’

*

Finnlay kept watch all through the day, mostly in the shelter of the lean-to, where it was warm. He kept his
ayarn
out, not daring to let an hour go by without scanning for that guard. But still they did not come. The weather had cleared to a fine drizzle, so he was happy they were not actually travelling.

As the light began to fade, Robert came out to him with a mug of warmed wine.

‘Still no sign?’ he said, turning his gaze to the ridge.

‘Nothing. I don’t understand it.’

‘Perhaps they thought we’d be too far ahead to catch by now. On the other hand, they may have come to the same conclusion about the bridge as we did.’

‘By the gods, I hope not!’ Finnlay sighed. ‘The last thing we need right now is a confirmed sighting of sorcery. I just hope they didn’t recognize you.’

Robert shrugged and leaned back against the wall. His face, as usual, was impassive, his tone casual. He gave no outward sign that he was concerned about anything. How did he do that? How could he just ignore the situation? After all, it was a good thing that guard wasn’t coming up the ridge because without his
ayarn,
it would almost kill Robert to provide a mask big enough to hide them. But did he say anything? Do anything? No. He just stood there as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Irritation grated at Finnlay. He wanted to shake Robert’s almighty calm, wake him up to the reality of life – Lusara, the Enclave, the bloody Guilde. He took in a swift breath. ‘What do you think Oliver is up to?’

There was almost no reaction. Merely the shift of Robert’s gaze from the mountains. ‘I don’t know. He’s a grown man, Finn. I have no say in his decisions.’

‘Then you think he’s plotting something with Blair? They’re a powerful combination, you know, but not remotely strong enough to overthrow Selar. They wouldn’t
be able to get the support they needed – but if you joined them …’

Robert turned and began walking away, down the ridge. Finnlay dropped his cup and hastened after him. ‘If Oliver is mixed up in treason it’s because you refuse to do anything about Selar. He’s only involved now because of you. And don’t forget, he knows about us – don’t ask me how, but he does. That makes it even more dangerous to leave him alone. He should be Sealed, too. We should have stayed and done it, then, if he’s ever captured he can’t tell anyone what he knows.’

Robert came to a halt on the edge of a sharp drop and gazed down along the ridge. His hair was black with the rain and sticking to his face but he seemed oblivious to it – along with everything Finnlay had said.

‘I wish you’d make up your mind, Finn. If we’d stayed, Arlie would be dead now. If I go and join Oliver then I could never Stand the Circle and lead the Enclave. As it is, I’ve said I’ll go to the Gathering.’

‘But you won’t Stand, will you?’

‘No.’ Robert turned to look at him, his green eyes dark and full of something Finnlay could not understand. ‘You don’t
know
Oliver is involved in treason, but even if he is, I can’t do anything to stop him and you know I won’t join him. When will you learn, Finn, this is a battle you will never win?’

With that, Robert turned and headed back towards the shack. But Finnlay couldn’t leave it there. ‘And what about Jenn? Your
ayarn
?

Robert stopped and faced him again. ‘What about her?’

‘We’re about to take her to the Enclave – through the gate. After what happened with your
ayarn
, we have no idea how she’ll react to the screens.’

‘I suppose it would be rather disconcerting if she managed to blow the top off the mountain.’

Finnlay stiffened. ‘That’s not funny. Sealing is supposed to keep the secret of the Enclave so that it’s impossible for
someone to talk about it with anyone who’s not also Sealed. But how do we know it worked with Jenn?’

‘We could test her.’

‘You Sealed her, Robert, and therefore only you can test it. Without your
ayarn
you can’t even do that much. Think about it. We’re about to reveal a secret that’s been kept safe for centuries. For all we know she could walk out and tell the first person she meets. And that, as I’m sure you know, would mean the end of us all.’

*

Morning came, and with it, a low cloud of fog which hung about the mountains like a funeral cowl. Soft and eerie, it damped every sound so that even the movement of the horses along the rocky path was deadened. Tall granite towers lined their passage through the mountains, appearing like ghosts through the mists. Going right through her thick woollen cloak and heavy dress, that same fog seeped into her bones – and into her soul.

Sorcery!

Was it possible? Was the legendary Earl of Dunlorn really a sorcerer? It was inconceivable! And why had she never heard about it before? He must have some trick to hide it. They all must …

And she was now one of them.

All night she’d lain awake going over what had happened at the bridge. Over and over until she finally found the moment. That’s all it had been, too – a single moment. With Micah hanging over the side, she’d cried out to the gods to make the bridge hold fast so they could get Micah to safety. Just that – a tiny, single second in time. That’s all it had taken. And that was sorcery?

But there was no such thing any more. It was history – fact! How could it be a lie – for five hundred years? Oh, Robert had been so perfectly calm telling her – bringing out his stupid
ayarn,
and for what? So he could almost kill them both?

And now she was travelling with them, the Guilde searching for them. The Guilde … those monsters … And where
was Robert taking her? To meet more sorcerers? Would they let her go afterwards?

No. They wouldn’t. If there were so few of them around they’d want to keep every one they found. She would be a prisoner – their prisoner. A prisoner of sorcerers. A prisoner of evil for ever hunted by the Guilde.