The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (41 page)

Kendra gave him a nod then poked him in the ribs.

Together they moved out from under the blanket. It felt good to have fresh air on his face, but the glory of it was short lived. The reality of what was going on around him was instantly sobering. These were the preparations for war, and Sinjin couldn't help but wonder how many of these people would find their deaths before the winter. That was the problem with understanding sieges; Sinjin knew what horrors to expect.

"I'm Jharmin Olif Kyte, and you're my wife's cousin's son. A tenuous relation, I know, but I nonetheless greet you as family and welcome you to my home. I wish I could greet you under more welcoming circumstances, but it seems the world has come unglued, and we get to have seats close to the action."

Sinjin wasn't certain what to say, and he fumbled for words. "Th—thank you, uh, my lord."

"Please, my boy, call me Uncle Jharmin. I insist! We're family, after all. And we don't get to have family here to visit all that often." His words were spoken more loudly than needed to carry to Sinjin, Hand, and Kendra. "And I'm remiss. I've not made the acquaintance of the lady."

"This is Kendra Ironfist," Sinjin said. "She's my friend." The words same out without much thought.

Kendra made a rude sound in her throat, but Sinjin also caught something else in the look she gave him. He did his best to conceal his smile.

"I welcome you both to Wolfhold. Please, let us retire within. You can refresh yourselves after your journey, and then we can have some time to talk."

Kendra said nothing but she matched Sinjin's stride. The interior architecture of the hold was majestic yet barren of inspiration. The arched entranceways were unadorned, and the vaulted ceilings bore no decorations. The walls, however, were covered in works of art that Sinjin thought somewhat overcompensated for the otherwise bland surroundings. The quality of the works displayed was far beyond anything that Sinjin had seen before, and the sheer number of them kept Sinjin's attention rapt. Jharmin walked ahead of them, and a young man approached at a very fast walk from deeper within the hold. Jharmin stopped to listen to the page's whispered message, and Kendra leaned closer to Sinjin.

"Don't trust anyone," she said. "People are rarely what they seem at first glance, and there are people within these halls who would do you ill."

Sinjin would have liked to scoff at her concerns, but he knew she was right, and that knowing gnawed at him. No one here was familiar, which meant everyone was potentially an enemy, and Sinjin found it exhausting. Hand continued to watch over them, and Sinjin had to wonder even about Hand. The man was a spy. How could he possibly trust a spy? And this spy had beaten Sinjin senseless; that was more difficult to forgive. This man was a professional liar. Sinjin knew he could trust Hand only so far, but he still trusted this man more than he trusted anyone else in this place. Once his captors had been neutralized, Hand had kept them safe. He'd protected them during the harrowing journey from Ohmahold to Wolfhold, and that counted for something.

Even with the warm and personal welcome extended by Jharmin and the insistence that Sinjin call him uncle, Sinjin wasn't certain he could trust Jharmin either. The man's beloved wife despised Catrin and, Sinjin assumed, himself as well. He had to accept the fact that Jharmin could have far different reasons for bringing him to Wolfhold, and he'd need to be careful of everything he said and did.

When presented with food and wine, Sinjin looked to Kendra with doubt in his eyes.

"Don't quite trust your loving uncle?" Kendra teased, but then she grabbed a quartered apple and a flagon of wine. Before Sinjin could say anything, she was washing down some of the apple with wine. "They went through an awful lot of trouble just to poison us, you know," she said with her mouth full.

Blushing, Sinjin grabbed some apple and berries for himself. For the moment, he preferred to forgo the wine. Washbasins and towels were brought to them, and Sinjin wasn't certain what to do. His clothes needed washing--he needed washing--and the rooms to which they'd been brought didn't seem an appropriate place to bathe.

"For you to wash the travels from your face and hands," a young man said in response to Sinjin's confused stare.

"Thank you," he said, and he used a damp corner of a towel to wipe away the grime from his face. He supposed it would have been better to have washed his hands before eating, and he continued to feel out of place and embarrassed by his ignorance. Despite his mother's position, he'd never been considered anything like royalty. Many of the people of his homeland had treated him with respect and kindness, but overall, he was just a regular boy. This place made him feel inadequate and crude.

Kendra didn't appear much more comfortable in these surroundings, and she seemed mortified that the towels had turned dark by the time she finished cleaning her face and hands.

"Now that you've had some refreshment, may we measure you?" the same young man asked Sinjin.

"Measure me?"

"I'm sorry, my lord, but you didn't have any trunks or bags. I assumed you'd need new clothes."

"Oh," Sinjin said, feeling small and uncomfortable. "OK."

Though he'd been measured before, the way the young man deftly tied knots in a length of string to record his measurements amazed Sinjin.

"I'll take you to the baths now," the young man said. "I'll get you something to wear until your new clothes are ready."

"What's your name?" Sinjin asked.

"Munson, my lord."

"My name is Sinjin, and you don't have to call me 'my lord.'"

"Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord."

Munson proved a competent guide and attendant, and before long, Sinjin was washed, dressed, and somehow feeling even more out of his element. Some things about the hold reminded him of home, yet it wasn't the same. It felt different, smelled different, and he realized, its energy was different, not necessarily better or worse but different. For a moment, Sinjin wondered how Kendra had made out with her attendant, but he heard them before he saw them.

"I look just fine," Kendra said. "I certainly do not need you to brush my hair."

"But, my lady," came the voice of the unfortunate young woman tasked with making Kendra presentable.

Sinjin knew it must be like trying to brush a wild boar. Granted Kendra was a lot prettier but no less dangerous.

When Kendra entered their assigned apartments in a frilly dress, Sinjin had to stifle a laugh, and he wasn't certain he'd managed to entirely keep the smirk from his face. Given the look on her face, it didn't seem anything he said would be appreciated, so he managed somehow to keep his mouth shut. Still she glared at him, and that was when he remembered the grin. Even as he wiped it from his face, she turned her nose into the air and sniffed. So much for self-control, he thought. Long after his grin had faded, though, Sinjin could not stop looking at her.

Chapter 17

Some paths lead only to darkness and must be guarded.

--Brackus, archsorcerer

* * *

Given brief respite, Catrin and Kyrien did what they could to rejuvenate themselves. The clouds had provided cover, and Catrin suspected she and Kyrien were not the only ones nursing their wounds. Sleep alone had been restorative, and the water she gathered from within the clouds had refreshed her, but Catrin longed for something more substantial than jerky to eat. There was little enough of that remaining.

No matter how much she wanted to defeat Thorakis and defend the people of the Greatland, she couldn't do so if her own personal needs weren't attended to. However humbling that may be, it was what maintained her humanity and perhaps her humility.

She didn't think herself better than everyone else, but she did feel capable of making a bigger difference with her actions than most. With that came a huge responsibility. And the people of the Greatland had always been precious to her; they connected her to her mother, and for that, she was grateful. There was precious little of her mother's memory for her to cling to, and that hurt as much as anything else. Kyrien shared her mood, and they said nothing.

In the midmorning light, the land looked like a carpet of green divided by wagon trails and farmsteads. And then there were the aqueducts, which more closely resembled walls dividing the land in more than spirit. This far from the keep, the aqueducts remained undamaged.

When they neared a mighty keep constructed within a towering spire, she saw parts of the aqueduct where the stone walls had fallen away, revealing a chamber within. Pouring from it were steady streams of dark forces. Catrin could only hope that the destruction of Riverhold would keep any more troops from marching through the aqueducts. The possibility that Prios's attack had taken out a large number of dark troops put a sad smile on her face. She'd never wanted to kill anyone, but when people and creatures are determined to take from you everything you hold dear, things change, priorities change, values change or are at least tested.

The dark troops moved south, where a gathering host surrounded Wolfhold, which looked like a pale, dead tree jutting from a festering swamp. Black smoke rose from many cook fires and larger fires whose purposes could only be nefarious by Catrin's estimation. This didn't look like a force that could take this keep through conventional means, save an extended siege meant to starve the occupants out.

Catrin knew, though, that this army had far more devastating weapons: dragons. The ferals were awesome weapons that could easily tear Wolfhold to pieces. Casting her senses about, Catrin tried to find some sign of the black dragons, but she sensed none. Seethe had been wounded and needed rest as much as they. Catrin had thought for certain that other dragons would've come after her and Kyrien, yet they flew through clear blue skies unaccosted. Kyrien soared higher and gave them a better vantage.

The aqueducts, if repaired in the north, would sustain the armies, but Catrin knew that would require time Thorakis didn't have. Higher Kyrien soared, causing Catrin's ears to pop. Soon she had to open herself to a trickle of power and pressurize the air around her. It came to her more easily now that she'd done it so many times, and she was able to maintain it without thought. Kyrien continued higher then flew east for some time. He said nothing and Catrin asked nothing. She trusted him implicitly, and despite the lack of communication, his determination and purpose were unmistakable.

Some of the lands below seemed familiar to Catrin, though they were difficult to recognize from above. Still, she knew they were above part of Mundleboro, and eventually Ravenhold became visible in the distance. It was a distressing sight, festering as if consumed by plague. An army equal to the size of the one surrounding Wolfhold laid siege to Ravenhold, and here there were dragons, slowly tearing away the hold's defenses. Ballistae and catapults fired from within the walls, but the dragons quickly targeted these, and they were able to bring down only a few of the flying devils before they themselves were destroyed.

Thorakis was here. Now that she was closer, Catrin could sense the staff and Koe, and she knew that there was a hundred times more power here than needed to defeat her. While they remained undetected, Catrin tried to decide what to do. Her family's ancestral home was under attack and would surely be destroyed. Catrin had no warm feelings for her cousin, but neither did she wish to see her dead. Knowing it might mean her death, she decided it was a worthy cause. If the dragons were allowed to raze Ravenhold unchallenged, then surely they would go to Wolfhold next. At least if she were able to reduce the dragons' numbers here, Wolfhold might stand.

No matter what she chose, Ravenhold seemed lost for certain. Much of the outer city and villages burned, though they did appear completely abandoned. Those within would not last long if the dragons continued to peel away their defenses.

There was nothing more to do but let Kyrien know her desires. "Death from above," she shouted, and Kyrien required no further instruction.

Wings folded and torso straight as a pike, Kyrien dived at the cloud of black dragons. The vicious beasts swarmed in the air above Ravenhold, taking turns at the beleaguered defenders. If they sensed Catrin and Kyrien's approach, they gave no indication, and Catrin searched for Thorakis. Unable to sense his presence, she finally unleashed her attacks on the dragons nearest to her. Kyrien kept their path true, and Catrin attacked with impunity.

Bursts of radiant energy crackled and split the air and exploded with percussive thunder on impact. Again and again, dragons fell to Catrin's attacks, and the thrill of victory ran through her, but surprise was no longer hers, and she was now grossly outnumbered. Among the dragons were those that bore riders, though there were fewer than she'd faced in the past. Catrin took some satisfaction in that, but her time for gloating was short.

Concentrating on those below her, Catrin hadn't paid attention to the skies above her. If she had, she would've seen the dragon coming. Only when the air pressure changed around her did she finally look; it was only to see massive claws descending and wrapping around her. The pain was unbelievable, and she would have screamed if she could get any air back in her chest. The straps that held her to the saddle strained and one snapped, but Kyrien was trying to stay close to the feral and keep Catrin in the saddle. Catrin was being crushed, and only the energy flowing through her kept her from succumbing to the pain and pressure.

Instead, she pulled from deep within herself the will to live and fight. Light flared and Catrin concentrated her attack on a single point where the claw bones came together. Smoke poured from that spot, but nothing else happened. Catrin's vision swam in yellow and brown, but then the pain seemed to hit the dragon all at once, causing it to twitch violently and release Catrin from its grip.

Unable to breathe deeply due to the pain in her ribs, Catrin took in rapid, shallow breaths. Kyrien continued to make evasive maneuvers, and every one revisited the pain in Catrin's ribs. With one hand on her side, Catrin did what she could to direct healing energy to that area. As had been the case for many years, all she had to do was ask her body to heal and direct some of Istra's energy to that purpose. Her subconscious had been silent for more than a decade, and though Catrin sensed the presence and acknowledgment of the need, there was no overt communication. Given Catrin's current predicament, she was grateful. Communicating with her subconscious mind always left her dazed.

Though by no means gone, the pain in Catrin's ribs abated enough for her to let go of them. Breathing was still painful, but it was at least now possible.

The dragons below had been alerted to their presence, and battle was soon joined. Wings, teeth, and claws flashed around them, seemingly coming from every direction at once. Catrin had seen crows harass and chase away hawks by attacking them in mid air, but the violence and speed of these attacks were like nothing Catrin had ever seen elsewhere in nature, except perhaps for daggerfish. The thought was not comforting.

Casting offensive and defensive energy around her in reaction to whatever threat she detected next, Catrin knew she wouldn't be able keep it up for long. After sending a thought to Kyrien, a skill that was becoming easier every day, and making sure the beleaguered regent dragon was prepared for what was about to happen, Catrin reached out to the air and clouds around them. Fire and lightning sailed toward them from the backs of feral dragons, and Catrin used no restraint. She tore the clouds from the sky and compressed them into a raging black mass that surrounded her and Kyrien. She could feel the potent and concentrated energy; her senses were overwhelmed with the taste of copper and the smell of the coming rain.

In that instant, they were the storm; Catrin and Kyrien became the embodied power and primal fury of nature, and they unleashed that potent force on the feral dragons. In a flash of light that spiderwebbed out across the skies, away from Catrin and Kyrien, a thunderclap radiated outward in all directions with such ferocity that it folded up the feral dragons' wings and sent them spinning outward.

If Catrin could've changed it, she would have. As it was, a rain of dragons caused destruction in all directions. There was nothing she could do about it, but that didn't stop her from wishing it were different. Tingling all over, she felt light-headed after the release of so much power. The stones in the saddle were milky white around her, and she worried she would damage the stones and destroy the saddle just as she had Imeteri's fish. She'd have to be very careful about how much energy she drew from the saddle until it had a chance to recharge in the light of Istra and Vestra.

Few dragons had evaded her massive attack, and they congregated around Ravenhold, perhaps knowing Catrin wouldn't release such a devastating attack so close to her ancestral home. Catrin was just glad they thought her capable of launching another attack of that magnitude. The last thing she wanted them to know was that her nose was bleeding and her vision was like looking through water. Her body vibrated and thrummed in the wake of the massive release, and she could barely move.

When she saw Seethe perched upon an upper balcony of Ravenhold, though, she forced her body into action. Kyrien interpreted her thoughts and swooped toward Seethe. Other dragons did their best to intercept Kyrien; he would not be deterred. Claws raked his flesh, and jaws closed around his neck, and still he managed to move them closer to Seethe, who waited expectantly. Thorakis was nowhere to be seen.

A huge black torso slammed against Kyrien's side, and Catrin was trapped between the two dragons from the knee down. The pain was beyond anything she'd experienced before, and she cried out. As if on cue, Thorakis returned to the balcony, smiling and with a dagger at Lissa's throat. Catrin's cousin stood, stoic, no emotion registering on her face, and guilt stabbed at Catrin. Lissa had never liked her and had never been anything but cold to her, but what Thorakis was doing with her now was purely because of Catrin. Otherwise, he'd have no doubt taken her prisoner, but because of her, Thorakis forced Lissa to her knees and looked up at Catrin, making it clear that she was the reason he would slit Lissa's throat.

Seethe raised himself up and partially extended his wings to shelter Thorakis; at the same time, he puffed out his chest and raised a taunting, one-eyed gaze at Kyrien and Catrin. She could feel the boiling rage over the loss of his eye, and Catrin knew the only thing Seethe wanted was to see them dead.

This time it was Kyrien who discarded all restraint. His movements were violent, and Catrin could do nothing but hold on and try to keep from getting crushed. His chest extended, Kyrien slammed into Seethe with every bit of force and speed he could muster. There was a sound like a volcanic explosion followed by a monstrous landslide when the two dragons connected. Seethe's claws were still wrapped around the ornate stone railing that bordered the balcony, and it was torn away on the impact. Bits of stone showered Thorakis and Lissa, and it was not at all certain that the balcony would remain where it was. The jarring force seemed to rattle the foundations of Ravenhold.

Seethe released his hold on the railing, which soared into the town surrounding Ravenhold and tore through a storefront as if it were made of cloth. A cloud of dust and debris erupted from the back of the shop.

Fully extending his wings, Seethe did his best to get away from Kyrien, who had sunk his claws into Seethe's lower torso. The mighty feral dragon let out a high-pitched cry and squirmed in Kyrien's grasp, and Catrin heard a loud crack. The feral dragon's cry became even higher in pitch, and it struggled in a wild frenzy, thrashing back and forth.

When Seethe's tail whipped past and nearly took Catrin's head off, Kyrien released him and pushed off hard. The two dragons flew away in opposite directions, neither looking truly flightworthy. Seethe's wing flaps were jerky and sporadic, but he did manage to remain airborne. He landed back on the balcony, and Catrin saw Thorakis buckled over, and Lissa was retreating into the hold. For once, Catrin cheered for Lissa.

In the next instant, though, everything changed.

It started as a confusing but comforting sensation that grew steadily into wonder and understanding.

Sinjin was alive.

Somehow, beyond all hope, Sinjin was alive! A thrill ran through Catrin that breathed new life and commitment into her. The thought of finding her son gave her strength she never would've thought she possessed. Only in a time of true need did such strength assert itself.