Faces (22 page)

Edrik looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I was not aware you had thought so long and hard about this.”

“The Lady and I talked about many possibilities,” Mara said.
I guess. Because even though I can't remember it, I can't imagine where else this is all coming from. I sound like a military commander. Which I'm not.

She blinked.
Or I guess maybe I am now.
After all, the part about letting a small force in through the sally port and sneaking into the Palace the back way, disguised as a Child Guard, had never been part of any of the Lady's plans.

It was an uncomfortable thought. She was asking other people to risk their lives for her again, to trust her judgment. How many had already died for her, or because of her . . . or her judgment?

Well, there's only one way to make their sacrifices count
, she told herself fiercely.
Kill the Autarch. Free Aygrima.

And then what?

She had no immediate answer: but then, killing the Autarch seemed to be more than enough to focus on to start with. What came after—if anything—would have to take care of itself.

“The plan seems sound,” Chell said. “But we cannot march south with the refugees from the camp: they'll slow us down too much. And they can't stay here: they'll starve. I suggest we send them north, back to the Lady's village.”

“Accompanied by whom?” Edrik demanded. “We have few enough fighters as it is.”

“Accompanied by the villagers,” Chell said.

“After what they did?”

“
Because
of what they did,” Chell said. He nodded at Mara. “Mara says they were under the control of the Lady, and from the horror with which they have reacted to what they remember now she is gone, I do not think they are a threat. I agree, however, that our own men are unlikely to be particularly happy about being asked to fight alongside them again. So we send them back north, with the refugees, through the pass and beyond.”

“Once the members of the Watcher Army arrive here and see what has happened, they may pursue them,” Edrik said.

“I think that's unlikely when they see that our force has headed south,” Chell said. “Their first concern will be the capital. I think we can be certain the Autarch's orders have made that clear.”

“Our ‘force' will be reduced to just over one hundred fighters,” Edrik said.

“Still a threat. And the Autarch is sensitive to threats.”

Edrik grunted but raised no more objections. “It will be a difficult journey back to the Lady's village,” he said. “We can give them some supplies, but not enough. They will have to forage and hunt.”

“The villagers are good at that,” Chell said. “It's the best we can do. And it's still better than life in the mine.”

“Send them back to the ravine, first,” Mara suggested. “There should be some supplies there.”

Chell nodded. “Good idea.”

Edrik took a deep breath. “Very well,” he said. “It seems we are still following the Lady's wishes, even after she betrayed us. Even after she is dead.” He glanced at Mara. “If she really is.” He stood and went out.

Mara sat there, stung by his words.
It's not true
, she protested to herself.
I'm not becoming the Lady.

But she remembered the force with which the Lady's magic had torn into her, the way her eyes had blazed just before she died. Mara had poured most of that magic into the mine—she could no more have contained it than she could have drunk the ocean—but how much of a soulprint had the Lady left? Could it be influencing her somehow?

Whiteblaze whined and nuzzled her hand.

No
, she thought fiercely.
No. I am using the knowledge she gave me, but I am not her. I will never be her.

Chell had remained, watching her. She turned her head to him. “I am not the Lady,” she said. She needed to say it out loud to
someone
, someone who might believe her. “I am not her, and I will not become her.”

“You are not her,” Chell said. “But you are not what you were, either.” He stood. “I suppose none of us are.” He, too, went out.

Mara took a deep breath, and followed.

···

It took half the day to strike the camp and divide the supplies. Hamil, who seemed to have aged ten years overnight, his face haggard, his eyes shadowed, had taken charge of the mine refugees and his remaining men. “You cannot trust all of the unMasked from the mine,” Mara told him privately. “Some are as bad as any Watcher.”
And worse than some
, she thought silently, with another pang of grief and shame at her murder of Mayson. She could not imagine
he
had been turned into one of the monsters who abused the unMasked.

She wondered why he had even been stationed at the camp. Her horrible suspicion, though she would never know for sure, was that he had been punished for being kind to her when she was in the Palace. She had destroyed his life in more ways than one.

I'm good at destroying life
, she thought.
It may be my one true Gift.

“I know,” Hamil said. “But under the conditions in which we will be traveling, I think the need for survival will exert its own discipline.”

Mara nodded. “Good luck,” she said. “Bear word to Catilla.”

“I will.” But Hamil did not turn away. “Before I go, Mara, there are two things I must say. First . . . thank you. For myself, and for all those who live in our village. When I first met you, knowing you had the power you have, I hoped that somehow you might be the one to free us from the Lady's reign. I could never tell you that . . . it wouldn't have been safe. But I am grateful.”

“You're welcome,” Mara said, though it felt wrong for someone to be grateful that she had killed another person. “And the second thing?”

“A warning. Beware, Mara. The Lady . . . Arilla . . . was only a little older than you are now when she first came to us. We took her in, and she used her magic to help us. But over the years, that changed. She never
decided
to become what she became. It just happened. Do not let it happen to you.”

How do I stop it?
Mara wondered. But she nodded without speaking.

Hamil left her. She watched as the camp refugees straggled away, back along the trail they had followed from the new mine to the old.

“Mara,” said Keltan's voice behind her.

She stiffened. She had used a little magic from Whiteblaze to heal his and Hyram's wounds the night before, but she had not spoken to him since. She swallowed, and turned.

“Hello, Keltan.”

She was struck again, in the gray light, by how much he had changed since she had first met him in the basement in Tamita. Much taller—he was one of those boys she had been thinking of earlier who shot up inches in just a few months—but also . . . harder. He no longer looked like a boy, but a man: a young man, but a man.

“Chell tells me you plan to infiltrate Tamita,” he said. “And that you need someone to accompany you, disguised as a Watcher.”

She nodded.

He spread his hands. “Take me.”

The offer warmed her heart, but she shook her head. “No.”

His face hardened. “I see.” He turned to go.

“Keltan!”

He stopped.

“It's not that I don't want you with me,” she said desperately. “It's not that I don't still care for you. It's
because
I care for you. It's just . . . I don't . . . I don't know if it's safe. If
I'm
safe.”

He turned around then. “Safe?” he said, his tone incredulous. “Do you really think I care about ‘safe'?” He took a step toward her. “I care about you, too,” he said. “I care that you don't give in completely to this . . . this
thing
inside you. This damned
Gift
.” He spat the last word. “The Lady was alone except for her wolves. She lived apart from her villagers. Eventually, she was
feeding
off of them. She forgot they were human, and as a result,
she
stopped being human.” He took two more quick steps back to her and reached out and took her shoulders. “Don't make her mistake,” he said, voice soft, intense, urgent. “Don't cut yourself off from the people who care about you.
Don't cut yourself off from me.
”

She swallowed, unshed tears stinging her eyes. “All right,” she whispered. “All right. You can be my Watcher, if I can make it work. You can help me get into Tamita.”
No!
a part of her protested.
If it doesn't work . . . they'll kill him.

But she'd pushed him aside once before, only to regret it. She'd pushed aside too many people who wanted to help her, people who cared for her, people . . . who loved her. The Lady had died friendless and unloved—and that was another way she did not want to end up like the Lady.

Keltan's face split into a smile. “Thank you!” He slid his hands down her arms, took her hands. “Thank you, Mara.”

They looked at each other from just a few inches away. Mara looked into Keltan's eyes. And then, since he was taking way too long, she kissed him. His arms went around her, and hers around him, and they kissed for a long time.

They might have kissed longer if not for the fact that, as the kiss went on, Mara felt the magic inside Keltan so strongly it was all she could do not to pull some of it from him and into herself . . .

...and so she broke away, gasping, and pushed him away. He stared at her. “Mara, what . . . ?”

“I can't,” Mara mumbled. “I can't . . . you can come with me, but I can't . . .” In confusion and fear, she turned and stumbled away from him. She didn't look back.

···

Though no longer sequestered from the rest of the army by the Lady's villagers, she chose to ride apart that day, accompanied only by Whiteblaze. They would spend one night more in the Wild before they reached their first destination. She and Edrik had talked about it early that morning, with Chell standing silently by, since he knew little of Aygrima's geography.

“We're going to a town called Silverthorne,” Mara said. “The Lady and I discussed this.”
When?
she asked herself again, but had no answer. She knew without a doubt where she needed to go, though, and how could she know that without the Lady having told her? . . . even if she couldn't exactly remember it. “It's remote, so no word can reach Tamita ahead of us. It has a population of four or five hundred, so it will have its own Maskmaker. And most importantly, it's a silver mining town. I must have silver to make a Child Guard Mask. You know the place?”

Edrik nodded. He drew his sword, used it to draw a rough map in the dirt at his feet. “We're here,” he said. “The road to Tamita heads straight south,” he drew it in, and marked the city on it. “Silverthorne is over here.” He moved his sword to the east of his map. “There are quite a few towns in the east, and they each have a road that leads to the main road, but because they are located in folds of the eastern range, and the terrain is difficult, most do not have roads leading to each other. Silverthorne has only one road in or out.”

“How do you know?” Chell asked. “Not that I'm doubting you, but surely that is far outside your usual patrol area from the Secret City.”

“There are bandits in the Wild,” Edrik said. “And hidden among them are members of the unMasked Army. Our eyes and ears.” He glanced at Mara. “A town that size will also have a Watcher garrison.”

Mara nodded. “Of course. But only a small one.”

“Then it can certainly be taken,” Chell said. “But not without cost.”

“No,” Mara said.

The men looked at her. “Then how—” Chell began.

“I need a Maskmaker. But I don't want another bloodbath,” Mara said. “I'm already planning to sneak into Tamita. I should be able to sneak into Silverthorne.”

“Without a Mask?” Edrik said.

Mara spread her hands. “I'm not yet sixteen,” she said. “And my face is unscarred. I can still pass for a child.”

The men considered her. “Barely,” Edrik said at last. “You are taller and . . . rounder . . . than you were.”

Mara blushed a little, and felt angry at herself for doing so. “Even so. There are fourteen-year-olds taller and ‘rounder' than I am, are there not?”

Chell glanced at Edrik. “Yes,” he said. He looked back at her. “But if this does not work . . . ? What if you are captured?”

“Then I will free myself,” Mara said. “I am not the Lady of Pain and Fire. But I have enough power to handle small-town Watchers, wouldn't you say?” She glanced in the direction of the collapsed mine.

Though it was hidden from them by forest and hill, Chell clearly took her meaning. He smiled. “Fair enough.”

“How long will this take?” Edrik said. “Remember there may be an army heading our way. If they catch us before we reach Tamita . . .”

“Two days,” Mara said.

Edrik looked unhappy. “That's cutting it fine.”

“I know,” Mara said. “But I must make these Masks, or we have no chance at all.”

Edrik sighed. “Very well.” He looked at the map again. “There is a good place to camp about three hours' ride from the town—far enough out we are unlikely to be seen, and well off the road. Who will you take with you?”

“No one,” Mara said. “Except Whiteblaze.”

“You should have an escort, at least until you are closer to the town,” Edrik argued.

“No,” Mara said. “If I'm seen with armed men, my ruse won't work.”

Edrik looked stubborn.

“You cannot force me to let anyone accompany me,” Mara pointed out quietly. “You cannot force me to do anything I don't want to do. Not anymore.”

Edrik met her eyes, then. And he looked away first.