First Comes The One Who Wanders (9 page)

"The cave is still our best option," said Joshuas, after his brief discussion with Queen Daina. "This road is a bit tricky at night, but it isn't much further."

Joshuas helped Daina up into the saddle then took the lead. Brenth frowned at Joshuas usurping his task of helping his mother, but said nothing. He merely tapped his heels into his horse's flank and fell into line. Leilas simply let her mount follow. She hoped that Joshuas was correct and the cave wasn't far. She wasn't going much further tonight.

It took them a good part of the next hour, but they finally reached the cave. It was a good place to spend the night. There was room for their mounts to enter, so they were out of sight, and yet the entrance was almost impossible to find, hidden behind a thick curtain of hanging ivy.

Leilas slipped from her mount and almost fell to the floor from exhaustion. Steadying herself by hanging on to the saddle horn, she pretended she was gathering her food and water. No one else seemed to be having trouble and once again, she didn't want to be the odd one out.

She wasn't used to expending so much energy in one day, on top of fighting her reaction to all that she'd seen and done, and the inevitable darkness that seemed to overwhelm her when she used magic to hurt others. There was also that unknown presence that seemed to be haunting her. She'd spent a great deal of energy protecting herself in case the presence returned.

Not that anyone cared, not that anyone had noticed. Leilas loosed her water flask from the saddle horn, untied her bag of food and slumped to the floor, resting her back on a rock that stuck up from the ground. Joshuas lit the cavern with an eerie, greenish light. It seemed it was perfectly fine if he used his magic. It just wasn't all right if she used hers.

Taking a deep drink of the lukewarm water, Leilas wrapped her cloak tightly around her and closed her eyes. She didn't consider herself pampered, but she definitely wasn't used to no good food, no wine to drink, and most importantly, no bed.

"You need to take care of your horse." Joshuas kicked her in her sore leg and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain. "You'll need him to be in good shape tomorrow. He won't get that way standing all night in a sweaty blanket and wearing a heavy saddle."

Joshuas tossed his saddle down on the ground a few feet away from her. "There's some fresh grass just outside the door. He'd probably appreciate a bite, just like you."

Leilas slowly rose to her feet, straightened her back, and did her best to walk normally to her mount. She didn't want Joshuas to realize just how exhausted she was. Not that he'd care, but she didn't want to give him any more ammunition against her.

A twinge of regret rippled through her. She'd wanted to win Joshuas’ good opinion but it appeared that she hadn’t made a good first impression. She didn’t follow the thought that was teasing her that she'd wanted to do more than make a good impression; she’d wanted him to like her, to admire her. It didn't matter. She'd lived her life with very few friends –no friends– she didn't need his friendship, either, even though something inside her told her that they were destined to be together, somehow.

Unbuckling the saddle, she dropped it to the floor near the rock she'd chosen as her spot. The blanket followed after she'd rubbed down the mount as best she could with it. Then, trying not to limp too noticeably, she slipped from behind the curtain of ivy and gathered a generous armful of grass.

Dropping the grass near the entrance, Leilas called a small light and sagging onto a rock, she removed her boot, pulled back a breeches leg that was stiff with blood, and examined the wound the wolf had inflicted. There were puncture wounds that had bled liberally, but now just gaped blackly from her white skin. Unlike wounds that she'd endured at the hands of humans or nature, this bite hadn't already begun to heal. She'd never been wounded by a crafter before, she wasn't sure what to expect. She'd heard stories, though, and worried about them as she pulled her breeches down over the wound.

Joshuas' words came back to her as she wished she had her healing bag. There were no powerful magiks here to help her. There was no one here to help her. She'd have to keep an eye out for some of the herbs that would help the wound heal and pray it didn't get infected.

Pulling her boot back on over the swollen flesh sent shocks of pain through her leg, but she gritted her teeth and finished. Then she picked up her pile of grass and letting the light go out, re-entered the cave.

She immediately felt the tension in the cave. Glancing from Brenth to her mother, she raised her eyebrows questioningly at Joshuas. "Nothing," he snapped at her. "Your mother and I merely had a difference of opinion."

"Who won?" asked Leilas, dropping the grass in front of her horse. She doubted anyone in this cave would give her a straight answer and she was too tired and hurt too much to care.

"Mother as far as I'm concerned," answered Brenth. He turned toward Joshuas as he answered her and Leilas knew his answer was a statement of loyalty. If Joshuas had wondered where the Prince's allegiance lay, now he knew.

"I see. Was it something I should know about?"

"No." All three of them shook their heads in unison. Leilas would have had to be a fool not to realize the disagreement had been about her. She wondered if anyone had been on her side.

"Then I think I'll call it a night. I'm a little tired." Sinking down next to the rock again, she pulled her cloak around her and closed her eyes. Let them talk about her. She didn't care. She didn't need them.

"But you do need someone." The voice was calm, alluring, and every hair on Leilas' body stood on end. She opened her eyes to see if anyone else in the cavern had heard the words. But no one appeared to have noticed the extra presence in the cave. Brenth was throwing small bits of the grass into the fire. Joshuas was chewing on a hard piece of jerky, staring into the fire and her mother was sitting quietly, meditating. Leilas closed her eyes and tried to block out the voice. Shifting to find a position that was more comfortable to her battered body, she wondered if she was going crazy.

~~~

Finishing his tasteless dinner, Joshuas reached into his cloak, pulled out a worn, well-read book and leafed through it until he reached the passage he wanted to read. There were only two copies of this book. He had Greyan's copy and the other was somewhere within the School of Land. He'd been opposed to giving Greyan's prophecies to those who practiced dark magic, but it was Greyan's to give and give it he did. To help seal the pact between the two factions of crafters, to help strengthen the tentative peace they'd forged. There were copies of some of the more understandable passages held by masters within the Schools of Sky and Sea, but only he had the complete prophecy. Greyan had told him it was up to him to watch for the signs and interpret them.

"And then what am I supposed to do?" He'd asked his master.

"Then you must do what you think is right," his master had answered in perfect crafter fashion. Sometimes Joshuas hated that crafter's were so reluctant to give answers and advice for fear of influencing others. Maybe if they did more influencing the world wouldn't be in such a sorry state.

The passage he'd wanted to read was one of the more cryptic passages, but it was about the Chidra and he was decidedly interested in the Chidra now that she was sitting twenty feet away from him.

At least he believed Leilas was the Chidra. Joshuas glanced up to see that she was still sleeping. Assured she wouldn't come over and ask uncomfortable questions, he went back to his book and his thoughts. Like many of the other magiks who studied such things, he'd seen the signs pointing to her. This was the first time, however, that he'd seen her face. It had always been blurred by other messages in the mists. Messages he hadn't understood until today, messages warning him against his feelings.

He hadn't expected to react so strongly to this young girl. He'd been around for centuries and had his share of women and pleasures. But never had they evoked this feeling in him. It would prove to be a complication he didn't need and something she must never guess. She needed to be free to make her own decisions and choices. One so young would surely be influenced by his age and his knowledge as well as his cynicism.

Pushing his feelings deeper inside him, he read the passage then read it again. This particular passage had never made sense to him and he still wasn't sure he understood it.

The Chosen will choose, but not with knowledge.

And he who is chosen will know, but not with foresight.

The ways of the old ones will guide.

The ways of the old ones will guide. This was the part of the passage that intrigued him the most. Not that he understood the rest of it. But what had Greyan meant by the ways of the old ones?

Joshuas knew about the old ones. They were the first people who inhabited the earth, before the power had been lessened. They were those who'd walked closest to the Creator. But there were no records of their customs, at least no written record. Just as there was no written record of their language, which was why so much of the power had been lost. How would their customs guide in the choosing, if no one knew the customs? What was he missing?

He'd been searching for any who were descendants of the old ones and still practiced the old ways. So far, he hadn’t discovered anyone left who honored the past in their rituals. Only the very young had been saved during the cataclysm, and a few of their servants who led them away from the destruction. Most of the children had been too young to know the customs. If the servants had taught them the old ways, the customs didn’t survive past the second generation.

After checking to see that Brenth had taken up the first watch as he’d said he would, Joshuas closed his eyes. He knew he should check on Leilas. She'd been acting oddly since she’d entered the cave, but he couldn't bring himself to go and talk to her. He'd given her quite a tongue lashing about the crafters she'd killed. She’d surprised him with her power. He'd gone back to help her when he'd sensed the presence of the crafters and found his help hadn’t been necessary. Perhaps she'd used more magic than she'd needed, but then, she was young and inexperienced and she was definitely not a warrior.

He'd seen the look in her eyes. She hated doing what she'd had to do today. In a few more years, if someone didn’t intervene, he suspected she wouldn't be able to kill, except in extraordinary circumstances. She seemed able to rise to the task of protecting others.

He'd definitely reacted badly. He was already too involved with her. He'd been scared he was too late to help and that she would be mortally injured or dead. His relief had manifested itself in rebuke. He would have to be more careful in the future. A young crafter needed encouragement, not censure, especially one who hadn’t been formally recognized as a member of the School of Sky and never would be.

Opening his eyes, Joshuas removed the insignia that Master Manchu had given him before they left Dirth. It was for Leilas. The School in its wisdom had decided that Leilas wouldn't be named a master of Sky. She wouldn’t be allowed to join the Guild. In their wisdom, the School had decided that the Chidra must not be bound to any sect of crafters, nor receive any special training. The gold insignia he'd been instructed to bestow on her at an appropriate time was simple in its design. It showed only that the bearer had attained the rank of master. It didn’t bear the clouds his had etched on it, to show he was from the School of Sky or belonged to the Sky Guild.

Joshuas wondered if Leilas would even accept it from him. It wasn’t what she’d worked ten years to receive. She deserved more from the Council. Joshuas tucked it back into his cloak. It had been Cedric's decree about Leilas more than anything else that had convinced him to throw his lot in with this group of vagabonds. Leilas needed someone now. She shouldn’t be abandoned to the world simply because she was the Chidra.

And he wasn't willing to leave her in Menas once they arrived there, no matter what the queen and her son wanted. Leilas didn't belong in Menas. He'd take her with him to his home and on his journeys.

If she were truly the Chidra, she needed to see the world. To feel the balance of power, not just hear about it from others. He'd do his best to show her Preterlandis and while he was doing that, he'd do his best not to fall in love with her.

~~~

Jayram's face floated in front of her and then drifted off again as he strode down the hall past her hiding place. He was leaving the ruins of the School of Sky. Soon he'd be back in his seat of power. She knew they'd be safe until he’d arrived there. But his need for revenge nipped at her mind as he passed by her. He'd make her pay for what she'd done today.

As quickly as the first vision had come upon her, the scene blurred and she saw the dead students and masters from the School of Sky. Most had been hacked beyond recognition by the minions of the Dark Lord. She searched as she moved past them hoping she wouldn't find Gidron among them. But even as she looked, she knew he wouldn't be there. They were destined to meet again, at that very school where the vile crafters who'd destroyed her home had learned their craft so well. From the window in the ruined school, she could see her father's headless body hanging from the wall. She'd expected to feel something when she saw it, but she felt nothing at all. He'd received what he deserved, no more, no less.

Again the scene blurred and she saw Darryl of Draggor lolling on her father's throne, as drunk as her father usually was sitting there. He wasn't much of an improvement as a ruler for her people. Leilas clenched her fist in helpless rage, impotent to do anything to stop men like Darryl and Jayram.