The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (45 page)

People stood shocked and gaping as the two approached, but as the shock wore off, a wide avenue cleared before them.

"Stop her!" the guard behind her yelled. No one stepped in front of Allette, and she put her head down, trying to gain speed while he shouted. At the sound of his feet pounding on the carven stone street, Allette knew she was in trouble, and she turned hard to the right, nearly stopping her forward momentum. To her left was an archway, and despite not knowing where it led, she dashed inside and never looked back. The man's cursing told her all she needed to know: she had achieved a minor advantage.

When she burst into an enormous open area, the first thing Allette saw were men in leather suits, some with long braids in their hair and others with braided beards, all beneath hand-crafted leather helmets and goggles. Allette recognized them as dragon riders and grooms. By then it was already too late. Still at a full run, she could not stop herself when the biggest head she'd ever seen dropped down in front of her. The towering nostril was nearly large enough to sail the
Maker's Mark
through. Still, Allette's momentum carried her forward; that was until the massive dragon snorted. The change in direction was complete and instantaneous. Allette could do nothing but windmill her arms as she flew backward. When her feet touched stone, she was cast onto her backside and her head slammed into the unforgiving stone.

She would have stood and run, but she could not; the leather sole of the guard's boot pressed her face into the cold stone.

Chapter 2

Beware the advice of fools and the mercy of tyrants.

--The Lady Lissa Kyte of Ravenhold

* * *

The shadow of a horse and rider entered the covered entrance to Wolfhold, and the silhouette revealed a long bundle strapped to his back. Sinjin Volker swallowed hard. He knew what the rider bore, and it was all the proof anyone would require that his mother was dead. If she had been alive, she would never have allowed anyone else to get their hands on her staff and Koe, but that was exactly the burden this man bore. Clearly aware of the weight of this parcel, the soldier's shoulders were sagged from fatigue and perhaps something more.

Kendra pressed a little closer to Sinjin without appearing to mean to. Her touch momentarily caused his thoughts to stray, but then he was again reminded of how powerless he was. Two of the most powerful objects in all the lands were about to be delivered to him, and he could do nothing with them. In the hands of his mother, they had been implements of might; in his hands, they were but a walking staff and a carving of a cat, however well crafted they might be, however much potential they might hold. Only to the gifted were the ancient relic and his mother's carving truly useful. Only in their hands could the power be harnessed, focused, and delivered. He was better suited to wielding the belt knife that hung at his waist--a gift from his uncle.

Jharmin stood beside Sinjin, and at his nod, the rider approached Sinjin with the bundle he unstrapped from his back. Going to his knee, albeit slowly and with a groan, the man presented the long bundle to Sinjin. Wrapped in coarse cloth woven of dried reeds, the length and weight of the package gave no question as to the contents. The weight of it surprised Sinjin when he took it from the man.

"Thank you," was all he could say before his voice cracked.

Kendra stepped closer and squeezed his arm. It was odd just how much that gesture helped to keep Sinjin calm. Somehow the contact with her grounded him and allowed the excess energy to flow out from him.

The man stood slowly and, at Jharmin's nod, departed.

"I'm sorry," Jharmin said. "If Lady Lissa were not on her way here, I'd surely go with you. Are you certain you don't wish to wait until she arrives so that we can all go together?"

Sinjin nodded and Kendra squeezed his arm again. For some reason he would never be able to understand, the gesture annoyed him that time. Everything between Kendra and him was complicated, and he never quite knew how to interpret her actions. At times he wanted to think she was there only to support him, but he also knew she had strong opinions about what he should do next, and he couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't some subtle coercion there as well.

"You know you can trust Hand," Jharmin said, "and he'll get you safely to the
Dragon's Wing.
"

Again, Sinjin nodded.

"Are you certain you don't want the blanket to conceal you?"

"I'm certain," Sinjin said. "I'm no longer very valuable to the ferals, and they have no way of knowing I have the staff and Koe. I don't think I could stand another journey under that blanket."

"Know that you are always welcome here," Jharmin said, despite all of them knowing that statement was only half true. Jharmin might welcome them, but Sinjin doubted Lady Lissa ever would.

Even as he spoke, the weight in Sinjin's hands became oppressive, weighing down on his soul. Something gnawed at him, demanding he remove the rough cloth and hold the Staff of Life and Koe in his hands, despite knowing the pain it would bring. Somehow he felt he deserved the pain. Why else would he have so much of it? His hands moved without conscious thought, and the cloth of reeds fell away.

Kendra bent down to pick it up. "Maybe you should leave those wrapped up," she said, but then she saw the look on Sinjin's face as he held the staff and Koe, tears streaking down his cheeks, falling to the cold stone, which seemed somehow appropriate. She placed the crude cloth onto the growing stack of items they would take with them. Perhaps Jharmin was normally a generous man, or perhaps he was so in this case out of guilt, but the result was more gifts than they could practically carry.

Sinjin had promised that they would leave Wolfhold as soon as the soldier arrived with the staff and Koe, but he felt reluctant to go. Deep inside, he knew that parting from this place, the last place he'd seen his mother alive, he would be facing a world without her in it. He knew it was ridiculous to think that staying here somehow changed the fact that she was gone, but he also knew that memory would fade, and stepping away from this place was a step farther from that most recent memory.

Men--"good men," Hand had told them--gathered around and stood waiting for the command. Hand looked to Sinjin, who turned his gaze to Kendra; she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised. "Could you please help us load the carriage?" Sinjin finally asked, hoping his reluctance wasn't overly obvious. The fact that Kendra rolled her eyes didn't bode well, as few things ever did with her, Sinjin thought. Either way, the men loaded up the gifts of clothing, food, and coin into the waiting carriage. The horse seemed irritated at having been harnessed for so long without going anywhere. It swatted the air with its tail and made sharp clapping sounds when it stomped on stone.

"Thank you, Uncle Jharmin," Sinjin said. "You have been kind to me."

"I wish I could've done more," Jharmin said, his eyes distant. "Your mother was a good woman."

Sinjin nodded, still not knowing what to say when people said such things. Kendra gave him a firm nod, and Sinjin supposed it was a compliment. Hand held open the door of the carriage, and Kendra seemed to be waiting for him to get in first, which bothered him, but he didn't know why. Instead, he simply climbed into the carriage without another word, the uncomfortable silence lingering, and Kendra climbed in beside him. She wore a sad smile, and the light made her eyes sparkle. It was a rare moment, but it made his mouth go dry. When she grabbed his hand and squeezed it, he nearly leaned over and kissed her; the thought of her punching him in the face intervened. Then the chance was gone as the carriage rolled away from the keep and over a cobbled bridge. The stones made their teeth chatter, and Sinjin almost laughed.

Hand rode alongside and motioned to two of the guards accompanying them to scout ahead, and those men made clicking noises with their tongues and kicked their heels. Soon they outpaced the carriage and four remaining guards who rode in front and behind the carriage. It was an odd feeling to be under guard. Certainly he'd been under his Uncle Chase's watchful eye his entire life, but this was different. Sinjin was very far from home.

"Once you've retaken Dragonhold, things will be much better," Kendra said.

Sinjin didn't respond at first, knowing the words on his tongue would only start an argument. They had an extensive ride ahead of them, and that could make for a very long argument. Sinjin was determined to stave that off for as long as possible. In this case, his silence seemed to have sufficed.

Neither of them wanted to talk about the black armies that still roamed the countryside, albeit in far smaller numbers and without any sense of organization. It didn't seem that the demons and ash men wanted to fight any longer. Jharmin had worried that there were no ship builders among them, so those left behind might be stuck here.

It reminded Sinjin again just how weak he was. There was no guarantee he'd make it back to the Godfist. How could he expect to retake Dragonhold? He had no power. The people were not loyal to him; they had been loyal to his mother. He was just the boy who caused so much trouble in the hold. How could he expect any of those people to fight for him? The people were better off under Trinda's rule than fighting each other over whether she or Sinjin was their ruler. And all of them would face her power. Sinjin had to admit that with his parents and Thorakis gone, Trinda was the most powerful person on all Godsland. Durin had said that she ruled fairly and treated the people well, so there really was no reason for him to depose her. She was, after all, only continuing the work his mother had started and probably more effectively than he ever could.

"Hard roll?" Kendra asked, in her hand a long, slender piece of bread.

Sinjin accepted the roll and tapped it on his tooth; it made a hollow clicking sound. "You didn't get the rolls mixed up with a bag of rocks, did you?"

"They're better with soup," Kendra said. "They keep forever, and if they're all you've got, you get used to them."

That statement rattled Sinjin. He'd never gone hungry an hour in his young life, and even through the trials of the last year, he'd never experienced real hunger. It shamed him. Kendra seemed to sense it, and he could almost feel her anger building.

"Is there anything in there to soften this up with?" he said, partly to break the silence and, he hoped, deflect her anger.

"I've always pegged you as a 'ration the supplies' kind of person, given your heritage," Kendra said, her voice level and even. "Now that you need something to soften your food, let's just have some of everything. Here, here's some apple preserves. Maybe you can soak it in that until it's soft enough for your tender little mouth."

"Are you trying to start a fight?" Sinjin asked against his better judgment.

To his surprise, she smiled. "We've got to pass the time somehow."

* * *

The smell of the sea brought with it both anxiety and anticipation. Kendra had been his only link to his old life, save the thin connection through Jharmin and his brief conversation with Durin. Now he would be reconnected with that life. How would he be welcomed? Would they blame him for his parents' deaths, just as he blamed himself? It was difficult to keep the tears from falling, but he knew how much it bothered Kendra to see him cry. The sight of it compelled her to great lengths to make it stop, which had included everything from yelling, nagging, punching, and tickling; the last hadn't been so bad, but it hardly made up for the rest.

She sat next to him, calm but alert, and definitely not looking at him. He sniffed and wiped away the tears. He'd expected to have to wait for the
Dragon's Wing
to arrive, but the instant the water came into view, so too did the ship. Well-kept sails were furled, and the rich wood of the ship shone lustrous and golden, deeper browns shifting and moving depending on the angle. It was Benjin who saw them first, and he moved silently yet with great speed. Sooner than Sinjin would have guessed possible, the big man was down the gangplank and grabbing him in a mighty hug that lifted him from the ground. His eyes filled with tears when he saw Catrin's staff, but he smiled a sad smile. "Thank the Gods you've been returned to us," he said, and he grabbed Kendra and gave her an equally robust hug.

Blood rushed to her face, and she was momentarily speechless. "My mother--" she began after some thought.

"Did what she did," Benjin said. "And you did what you did. There's a difference. You understand?"

She nodded, and this time tears gathered around her eyes. Sinjin thought about yelling, nagging, punching, or tickling, but his better sense prevailed. He was, after all, rather fond of having teeth.

Hand stood before Sinjin and bowed. "It has been a pleasure to travel with you," the big man said. "I am very sorry, once again, for my original treatment of you."

"I owe you my life," Sinjin said. "You did what you had to do when we first met, and you've done nothing but make up for it ever since. Thank you. And please send my gratitude to my aunt and uncle." He wasn't at all certain how his message would be received by his aunt, but he sent it nonetheless.

Fasha came to them next, and then Gwen and Jessub Tillerman and a man Sinjin didn't recognize. Jealousy stirred in Sinjin when he saw the way Gwen looked at this man. His face flushed when he found that Kendra was staring as well. A jumble of feelings came together and made his stomach hurt. He and Gwen had been close their entire lives, and there had always been something between them, something Sinjin had never been able to figure out. He was reminded of that by the fire in Gwen's eyes when she saw Sinjin standing with Kendra. Though the girls had only barely met before Gwen had left the Godfist aboard the
Dragon's Wing,
their brief meeting had been enough to foster enmity between them, and Sinjin saw that rivalry rising fast.

"I leave you alone for a couple years, and look at what's become of you," Gwen said to Sinjin, ignoring Kendra. "You look a sight."

After a brief hug, Gwen turned to the man. "I don't believe you've met," Gwen said. "Sinjin, this is Pelivor. I believe you know who he is."

"Yes," Sinjin said. "You were friends with my mother."

His use of the word
were
hung between them.

"Come," Benjin said. "We should be on our way. This is not the safest place for us to be; there are black ships patrolling this area."

No more words were spoken as they made their way back to the
Dragon's Wing.

"Where's my grandfather?"

"No time for questions now," Benjin said. "Get everyone aboard and get ready to set sail. The devils aren't done with us yet."

Sinjin and Kendra moved as quickly as they could to the galley, where they stood in the hatch and watched, feeling helpless. On the horizon were dark ships, and all were pointed toward the
Dragon's Wing.