Glyphbinder (8 page)

“Count on it.”

“And Kara? Your mother arrived while we were speaking with Trell. Landra is tending to her now.”

Kara tensed. Ona had made it to Solyr safe, alive. Ona was
here
, and she could hug her mother again.

“Due to her illness,” Halde said, “I’ve decided to board Ona in the visiting dignitary chambers, rather than the barracks with the other parents. She’s in the infirmary now. She asked after you.”

“I’ll find her.” A thousand worries went through Kara’s head and left just as quickly. She had never been good at lying to her mother, and if Ona found out what she planned … that Kara planned to swap their bodies and confront this disease herself…

Halde clenched two fingers on the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I’ve dozens of things to do, ceremonies to prepare, letters to write. It never ends.” He opened his eyes and lowered his hand. “Five guard your soul.”

“Five guard your soul.” Kara bowed as Halde strode from the Memorial Garden, his crimson robes growing darker as he moved.

Kara stared at the monolith for a time after Halde left, reading the names of those who had died for their province. Had she died in the shadow of the Thinking Trees, eaten by wolves, her name would be carved up there as well. A death immortalized in stone.

The things Elder Halde had revealed tonight left her feeling sick and cold: his brother’s murder, their world turning toward the Underside, the war between Mynt and Tellvan. The thought that the Demonkin could rise again. That everything Torn, High Protector, had sacrificed for them — his life and soul — had been for nothing.

That the Mavoureen would devour them all.

Had these revelations not come from Halde’s own lips, Kara would have thought them madness. Halde had told her because he trusted her. He had told her because as the royal apprentice, she needed to know. New responsibilities indeed.

Kara glanced at the high windows of the infirmary and imagined Trell, sleeping there. Had the Thinking Trees taken his memory, ripped it out of him like stuffing from a doll? Or had something more sinister taken place — a battlemage, wiping his mind — because he knew something that could help her or Solyr? A message from Lunyr? News about the war?

There was no way she could know. Not yet. Whatever glyphs had taken him, Trell was a good man. Kara felt that in her bones and that was enough for now.

Time to see her mother.

KARA ENTERED THE SMALL ROOM where Landra tended to Ona. It looked no different from the dozens of other healing rooms in the infirmary, with its plain wooden walls and aged cedar ceiling. Ona’s soft blue eyes met Kara’s and Kara felt like she was six years old again, cradled in her mother’s arms. She cherished that feeling.

Ona had cut her once long hair boyishly short, leaving what remained black streaked with gray. Her elegant eyebrows formed a wide V, leading to a nose that was thinner than Kara’s and far more graceful. She still had Kara’s height, but her frame had grown thin in the five years she spent fighting her painful disease.

Landra’s bloodmending must have helped her. Ona’s skin looked more tan than pale, and she wasn’t trembling at all. She wore a simple woolen dress with a pattern of blue lilies sewn down its front.

“Hi, Mom.” Kara swallowed against the lump in her throat. “How do you feel about moving to Tarna?”

“I heard.” Ona smiled. “Congratulations. Now tell me about this man you knocked out and dragged back to the academy.”

“I’ll leave you both alone,” Senior Mender Landra said. “We have done what we can for today, but I must work with you again before you sleep. Is that acceptable?”

“Of course, Landra. I can’t believe how much better I feel.”

Landra closed the panel, leaving them alone, and Kara rushed to her mother and hugged her as gently as she could. Ona hugged back, and Kara sighed at her warmth. The smell of lavender.

Ona chuckled. “Drown me, girl, I’m not that old. You’re not going to break me.”

“I know.” Kara didn’t stop hugging. “But I’m serious about the capital. You’ll move with me, right? I can take care of you there. We’ll even get to live in the palace!”

“It sounds lovely. But you know I can’t leave Boon.”

“It’s a fishing village.” Kara snorted and eased back. “Why are you so attached?”

Ona’s blue eyes grew distant. “Honestly, I forget sometimes. It’s just...” She focused. “I belong there. I have friends who help me as much as I need.”

“But I don’t have you. I know we agreed not to argue about this until I graduated, but … I’m graduating. I want you with me in Tarna. I need you there, where I can take care of you.”

Kara left unspoken the real reason she wanted her mother to come to Tarna. A Transference spell required both parties be touching, and Kara doubted she could leave Tarna during her apprenticeship.

They never talked about it, but Ona’s illness was accelerating. One Bloodmender has speculated she had five years left. Another estimated one. Neither was long enough for Kara.

“Please, Mom.” Kara knew how worried she must look and didn’t bother hiding it. “Come with me. Stay for a few weeks, at least. See if you like it. You’ll get to meet the king.”

“I’ve met him,” Ona reminded her, “but all right. If it makes you happy, I’ll go with you, at least for a few weeks. Consider it your graduation gift.”

“Thank you.” Kara hugged her mother tightly this time. “You’ll change your mind once we’re there. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re generally sure of everything. Now, as I said, who is this man you dragged home?”

“He’s interesting. Tellvan. Very strong.”

“Married?”

“Please.” Kara felt her cheeks flush. “This is like that Feast Day two years ago. You set me up with Edwyn Meris. Do you know how brutally Byn has ribbed me since?”

“I’m so sorry.” Ona wasn’t. “But I suppose there will be plenty of men to distract you in Tarna. When you’re ready.”

“Speaking of. Have you heard from Father?”

“He’s making due with a crew out of Jarel. You’re old enough now to understand what happened between us. We grew apart.”

“I know what happened. I still don’t understand why.”

“I wish I could explain it better.”

“Maybe you should try?”

“Rance is a good man, with a good heart, but it was like we didn’t know each other anymore. It’s strange, but … do you realize I can’t remember where we first met?”

“I didn’t.” Had the disease started affecting Ona’s memory?

“Don’t blame Rance. He never could abandon the sea. I could tell that, as hard as he tried. Our love faded as we spent more time apart. It bothered him more than me, but we both felt it. It was like I woke up one day married to a stranger.”

“That still wasn’t any reason for him to leave. Not with you … hurting.”

“Honey, your father left long before I grew sick.” Ona smiled again, a wistful smile. “I’m almost glad. If he’d stayed with me out of guilt, I think it would have been worse.”

Kara nodded, though she didn’t like it. With the exception of a few happy childhood memories, she barely knew her father. Rance Tanner had been a decent enough father when he stayed at their house, but he sailed the Northern Sea for months out of every year.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Kara said. “But you should have told me this disease was affecting your memory. Anything you can tell me about what’s happening to you may help.”

“I promise I haven’t kept anything else from you. Now. We need to talk about what’s going to happen to the house.”

“Mom!” Kara saw her mother’s gravestone in her mind’s eye and it made her legs weak, made her breaths come short. “No!”

“Kara—”

“You’re not dying. At least not until I’m much older, and I don’t like you as much.”

“At some point, honey, you have to accept that I’m not getting any better.”

Kara bit her lip. She longed to tell Ona how a Transference glyph could save her, how it could end her pain and let her live life again. Yet she did not dare. If Ona had any idea what she intended, her mother would certainly stop her.

“I’m graduating tomorrow.” Kara pushed that gravestone from her mind. “I haven’t seen you in half a year. We’re not talking about inheritances. We’re talking about what we’re going to do when we get to Tarna, and all the nice men you’ll meet.”

“I’m not apologizing for Edwyn.”

“I don’t want an apology. I want vengeance!”

Ona laughed as they set aside all talk of inheritances and missing fathers. A good place to be. Kara did not ever want to leave.

THE NEXT DAY, just before noon, Trell strode from the infirmary wearing a comfortable linen shirt, loose riding pants, and well-fitted boots provided by Solyr. He ran a hand over his thin, closely shaved beard and drew comfort from the familiar feeling of bristly hair on skin. He surveyed a mess of poplars and a long stretch of grass filled with milling initiates. All wore their oddly cut shirts and brown pants as they enjoyed their break in the middle of the day.

The bandages on his chest and head were gone. He had tied his long black hair into a ponytail behind his head, and the motions had felt as instinctive as breathing. Landra had told him that was a common style for Tellvan soldiers, but Trell just knew it felt right. One more memory reclaimed from the void.

Landra had planned out his whole morning. First, he would watch Kara graduate with Solyr’s other apprentices. Next they would have lunch. This afternoon, they would begin their journey to Tarna.

“Trell!” someone yelled. “Hey, Trell!”

Trell found the speaker in a moment. A large brown-haired man in the shirt and pants of an initiate strode toward him. His shirt was more ornate than Kara’s, adding shoulderpads and a collar, and his thick legs ate up the grass at a respectable pace.

The big man stopped and grinned. “You’re Trell, right?”

“I am. Have we met?”

“Have we … right. Your memory.” The man eyed Trell up and down. “We haven’t met, but Kara told me about you. I’m Byn. Byn Meris.”

He offered his hand and Trell shook it. Byn didn’t try to crush his hand or test its strength — he just had a grip. He was a strong man who was cautious with his strength.

“I’m sorry,” Trell said. “She didn’t mention you.”

“Well, that’s reasonable. She was probably too busy gazing into your eyes. That woman is smitten with you, you know.”

“What?” They barely knew each other!

Byn watched him for a moment, straight-faced, then burst into a fit of laughter. Trell stared as Byn slapped his thigh and tried to breathe. Nothing about this situation was funny.

“Five take me, that look is priceless. Like a fish on a hook. I’m kidding. Trust me. I don’t want to get punched in the face.”

“You misjudge me.”

“Punched by Kara,” Byn said. “Not you. She punches hard. Anyway, I’ve wasted enough of your time. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Selection Day.” Byn hurried off. “Kara would have come herself, but she’s going to be the speaker supreme, and she couldn’t get away for you. It’s a very complex ceremony.”

Trell followed Byn under a gazebo as his flush faded. The idea of Kara being in love with him did make his heart beat faster, but not in a good way. It felt wrong, like being unfaithful. What if he had a lover in the life he couldn’t remember? What if he had a wife?

He and Byn kept to stone paths amidst the low cut grass, and Trell didn’t miss the curious glances that all they passed directed his way. He was an oddity here, and that made him sweat. He focused on Byn and what he had said earlier. “What’s a speaker supreme?”

“It’s the graduate our instructors feel is the best example of our student body. I knew they’d pick Kara all along.”

“People here look up to her?” They passed a pair of female initiates and one of them glanced his way, a young woman with a pale face and dark hair. She had deep blue eyes and for a moment, Trell was somewhere else. Holding her in his arms.

“Trell?” Byn said. “Quit flirting.”

“What?” Trell’s head snapped around. He wasn’t even sure what he had been staring at, or whom. The two initiates hurried off, giggling, and Trell felt his cheeks flush.

That woman had caught his gaze because she reminded him of someone. It was her blue eyes that had caught him, eyes as blue as the sea. He had known someone like that in his past life. Her face haunted him, hazy and almost recognizable.

“Hey.” Byn touched his arm. “You okay?”

“She reminded me of someone.”

“That’s a good sign! Maybe you’re getting your memory back.”

“Perhaps.” Trell started walking again because it was the best way to focus on anything other than that woman’s blue eyes. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

A distant scream cut off whatever Byn might have said next. It came from a set of tall stone columns thin as toothpicks in the distance. Byn went straight as a board.

Trell’s hand instinctively went for the grip of the broadsword strapped across his back. Yet there was no sword there, no weapon at all. More phantom memories. “What’s happening?”

“Trouble.” Byn tore his shirt open and scribed a glyph on his bare chest. He fell onto all fours, howled, and loped away at a frightening pace. Toward the screaming.

Trell sprinted after him, but soon fell behind. Byn ran like a wolf, easily outpacing Trell on all fours, and the screams from ahead chilled Trell’s blood. Something very bad was happening.

Something was very, very wrong.

“KARA TANNER! You stop right there!”

Kara stopped rehearsing her speech. Sashia Grace hurried toward her, long hair trailing and brown pants clinging to her thick legs. Her face was flushed and her hands were clenched.

Kara took a deep, cleansing breath. “Sashia. What now?”

They stood on the round stone tiles that covered Solyr’s central square. It was just before midday and the fountain was clear and blue. Students filled the square, and several of them — all boys — had already noticed the brewing argument.

Sashia thrust a finger against Kara’s chest. “Where’s Aryn?”

Kara slapped the finger off. “I’m not his keeper.”

“He’s missing.” Sashia tried to loom over her and failed. She wasn’t tall enough. “I know you wanted him humiliated. You’ve hidden him somewhere, haven’t you?”

Kara blinked. That was so ridiculous she couldn’t respond.

“You don’t want him to graduate, do you?”

Kara would have laughed if Sashia’s claim wasn’t so ludicrous. As she thought more about it, however, something worrisome stuck. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”

“We scheduled a practice duel this morning. Aryn never showed up. He never misses practice with me.”

Had Aryn fled Solyr? Was he broken that badly? No. Aryn was here, in this very square, stalking toward her like a hungry wolf. Kara pointed and huffed.

“Turn around, Sashia. Take a good look. And next time, think before you accuse me…”

She trailed off. Aryn was still stomping toward them, but his eyes were narrowed and barely visible, almost … glowing. The square’s columns rose around them, and Kara only now noticed how much they resembled an arena. It was their triptych duel all over again.

Sashia spun in a whirl of hair. “Aryn! Where were you this morning?”

Aryn lit both index fingers on fire. Even with Jair’s grim warning, Kara couldn’t believe he would attack her. She grabbed Sashia’s arm. She didn’t want the other woman doing something stupid.