Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen) (24 page)

Paedrin walked over to Erasmus. “The same principle applies to you.” Erasmus flinched, holding up his hands wardingly.

“No, you fool, I’m not going to bash you in the head. Your wealth and success has come from understanding the motives of others, determining how they will react, and then betting on it accordingly. Rather than taking moments to see if you are right, your decisions may take months. A fire burning in the road. Caravans delayed in passing through. People losing money because cargo has spoiled. Those things may take time to play out, but they will play out. Others observe the loss of spoiled fruit. They can sell the next shipment for double. The faster they react, the more profits they make. It is the nature of Havenrook to use the Uddhava. And it is no coincidence that a Vaettir named Kiranrao is behind it.”

Annon thought about what he had been told. What a perplexing way to look at the world. However, it did explain how
attentive Paedrin was to their surroundings. It was as if he were constantly assessing dangers and forming plans. Like on the road to Havenrook, he had noticed the Preachán crouching amidst the wagons and suggested attacking them before being attacked. Having a Bhikhu as a companion was an advantage to anyone.

Annon prodded the fire with a stick. “Is that why the Bhikhu patrol the streets of Kenatos?”

Paedrin gave him a steady look and nodded. “Our presence alone is often enough to prevent crime. Not to mention that we have a certain reputation for inflicting pain on others. Pain is a teacher, as I have told you before. Most people fear it. We do not. We would never stop a child from touching a burning piece of wood. We would warn, but never prevent. Wisdom comes through listening to those with more experience. Only fools blunder through unnecessary pain.”

“How is your shoulder feeling?” Hettie asked wryly.

He gave her a smirk. “It hurts. How is your skull? Thank the stars it was thick enough.”

Erasmus whistled softly. “I am beginning to appreciate Tyrus’s craftiness. I do not think he intended me to go back to Havenrook after guiding you to Drosta’s lair. Since Kiranrao knew what was hidden there, he will slit my belly open to learn where you are taking it. It would probably be in my best interest to stay with you a while longer.”

Paedrin crouched near the fire. Annon was amazed at his flexibility, how he could crouch so low while his heels were flat on the ground. His arm was tied to his body, but he still looked dangerous. He twirled the half-staff in his hand, slowly, thinking.

“Let us consider this together,” he said. “I only know your uncle by reputation as one of the wealthiest men in Kenatos. A Paracelsus. That means he is a maker. His kind made the blade. May I see it?”

Annon shook his head. “No, it is a dangerous thing. It has great power over the mind.”

Paedrin gave him a long look. “I am not a fool, Annon. Let me examine it. I was cut by a blade recently, if you remember. I appreciate the danger.”

Annon withdrew it from his robe and felt the compulsion growing again. The blade did not want to be shown around. He felt a dark menace from it. Annon’s fingers twitched. The surge of emotions was stifling, and he felt sweat pop out on his forehead. Hettie shrank from him, her eyes widening with fear. Erasmus squinted, his face suddenly ashen.

“Put it away,” Paedrin whispered. His eyes were serious. “I could not control my thoughts looking at it, let alone risk handling it. Truly, it is an evil weapon. Put it away.”

Annon obliged, hiding it in his belt, beneath his cloak. The blade went still again.

Paedrin cocked his head, scratching his forehead. “Why would your uncle send you for it? The pretext was buying your freedom.” He nodded to Hettie. Her eyes were haunted. “What was his real motive?”

“Impossible to deduce,” Erasmus said. “He reveals nothing of his plans. He is very guarded.”

Paedrin frowned and shook his head. “The specific reason, perhaps. But we should not relax our thoughts because the riddle is difficult. First thought that comes to me. Did he expect we would be successful? Was it to test our craftiness or persistence? To see if we would quit?”

Annon thought a moment. “He gave us pieces of the riddle, but not the whole. He told us about Erasmus, who could lead us there. He gave me the words that would open the stone. So yes, I think he did want us to succeed.”

“I hate being manipulated,” Hettie said with an icy voice. “Why not tell us it was a blade and not a cask of ducats?”

“Another thought,” Annon said, touching his lip. “Let us suppose that Kiranrao was not lying. That he truly is looking for Tyrus now. Maybe there was an explosion in the tower, that Tyrus is a hunted man. Perhaps he knew the danger was coming and wanted to send us far away?”

Paedrin nodded vigorously. “I like your thinking. It would be pretty easy to confirm whether or not Kiranrao was lying. We could even discover that without crossing the lake into the city. If the boatmen confirm it, then we know that there was an explosion. He obviously did not want us to know about the danger.”

“That troubles me,” Hettie said softly. “While I hate being manipulated, I would feel even worse if he did this to spare us. I do not want to owe him anything.”

Annon put his arm around her. “He did not require anything from us. We seemed more like a nuisance to him anyway.”

Hettie shook her head. “I’m worried about him.”

Erasmus snorted. “Don’t be a fool, girl. He is quite capable of defending himself. Even the Arch-Rike fears him.”

At those words, Annon’s eyes opened wide. “I’m a fool.”

Paedrin looked curious. “What do you mean?”

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Maybe I am mistaken, but your words about the Uddhava make sense to me. How we are observed, and it triggers actions in others. When I came to Kenatos, I had to cross the gates. I told the Rike there that I was the nephew of Tyrus of Kenatos. I did not think of it until now, but the man started, surprised. He was shocked. Obviously his ring allowed him to know that I was not lying. He directed me to the Paracelsus Towers. No doubt I was followed.” He turned to Hettie. “Did you mention who you were visiting?”

Hettie shook her head, her brow crinkling with worry. “Of course not. What business is it of theirs?”

“The explosion happened after we left. It may have happened the very next day. My mentor, Reeder, warned me about trusting Tyrus. That he was involved in some matter dealing with the Scourgelands. My visit may have started the cycle of the Uddhava.”

Paedrin looked at him seriously. “No, it started before you arrived. It started when Hettie arrived in Kenatos, seeking her freedom. It may have started even earlier than that.”

“What do you mean?” Hettie asked, her voice defensive. “You think that I caused this?”

“No,” Paedrin answered, batting his hand at her. “When you were both infants.”

“Oh,” Hettie said. There was something in her voice, in her reaction. It made Paedrin pause. Was she hiding something? There was a growing pit of unease in Annon’s stomach, and it had nothing to do with the blade hidden in his cloak. There were forces at work that baffled him. But it was as Paedrin had taught them. An unseen current was pulling them all along, bouncing and bumping them into each other. He needed to know where the current was taking them before he decided whether or not he wanted to swim with it or against it.

“We need to find Tyrus,” Annon said resolutely.

Hettie touched his hand. Hers was warm. He glanced at her face and saw his concern mirrored in her eyes. Her look of defensiveness was gone now. It was probably his exhaustion and the effects of the weapon on his mind. Here they were together. A brother and sister, separated since birth. Was that even an accident?

“Then I suppose we will need a Finder,” she said.

Somewhere in the deep darkness of the Alkire, a creature roared. It was then that Annon noticed the subtle mist snaking through the boulders.

“The wilderness is full of monsters, it is said. What men fear most is their unrealized expectations. A dark alley. A thief with a knife. A thousand regrets of what will never be. This is fear.”

– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

A
chill descended on the little camp. Wispy tendrils of fog seeped slowly, bringing fear with the cold. Paedrin turned and stared at the darkness of the woods, gripping his shattered staff; he looked at the others. Annon felt his fingers tingle with heat, and he prepared to whisper the words that would summon the flames. Would such a being be immune to it? He hoped not.

Erasmus poked the ground with a stick, muttering to himself. “How many men did Kiranrao have? How many were slain? We saw the bodies. The chance for each of us surviving until daylight is bleak. Perhaps only two of us will. Those are bitter odds.”

“Say nothing,” Paedrin said, striding to the fringe of the firelight. “I hear something moving in the woods.”

Hettie came to her feet at once, bringing out her hunter’s bow and nocking an arrow. Her arms trembled.

“Be still!” Paedrin hissed. He stared into the woods, listening.

Another roar sounded, closer this time. The size of the creature, the noise it made terrified Annon. What were they facing?
What was it that hunted them? He thought about his talisman, stuffed in a pouch at his waist. It was useless to him unless he wore it around his neck. Had the spirits tried to warn him earlier? Or were they gibbering in fear as well?

There was a crunch and crash deep in the blackness, followed by a shower of branches.

The fire snapped and hissed as the mist curled around the stones hedging it in. A thick, silent fog came from the trees above, blotting out the stars.

“Do we run?” Annon whispered, his throat dry.

Paedrin held up his hand, his head cocked. “It’s coming from below, not above. I hear it in the woods.”

“I hear nothing,” Hettie said, swinging the bow around and aiming it down.

Paedrin took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly. He turned to the others. “When it comes, I will slow it. You run as far and as fast as you can. Try to find shelter, a cave or something narrow where it may not fit.”

“You are coming with us,” Hettie insisted.

Paedrin shook his head. “Remember the Uddhava. Trust me, I will not be easy prey. I will make it hunt and chase me all night if necessary. I am faster than all of you. It improves the odds of our survival if I face it alone.”

“No,” Hettie said.

“Your injuries,” Annon said, his stomach lurching. He respected the Bhikhu now. The thought of losing him was painful. “This is not fair to ask of you.”

There was a half-smirk in response. “Of course it isn’t fair. But I promised I would be your protector. My duty is not yet fulfilled, and I will face it. Get ready, it comes.”

Even Annon could hear the approach from the south. Twigs and branches snapped and cracked. The crunch of vegetation was
obvious now. Annon tried to swallow his fear, but he could not. In a moment, they would see it.

“Be ready,” Paedrin said. “I will face it.”

“There!” Hettie said, bringing up her bow and stretching it back.

“Hold!” Annon said, bringing his arm down over hers. The figure approaching was large, but not monstrous. The girth was enormous, or Annon would have thought it was Tyrus. A bushy, mottled, gray-and-black beard emerged from the cowl of a cloak.