The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (106 page)

Gamin, his arms still helping support her, said, “A fortunate one, at least.”

“I fell down when I did it,” said Kenders. “I nearly passed out, but the woman—” She cut off quickly.

The woman.

With a surge of newfound energy, she pulled away from Gamin and turned to face the tower’s top. Only Sabine and the other two mages were standing behind her. The bronze-skinned woman in the colorful dress was gone.

“Woman?” asked Tobias. “What woman?”

Confused, Kenders spun in a circle, muttering, “There was a woman here.” She pointed to the eastern wall of the tower. “She was standing right there, bathed in sunlight that wasn’t there, wearing a dress of a hundred colors. She told me I had to hurry. That my Weave was failing. That I had a—” She caught Sabine’s doubt-ridden stare and stopped short.

Shaking her head, her friend sounded concerned as she said, “I watched the tower from the moment you stepped through the port until I arrived. There was no woman.”

“Yes, there was,” insisted Kenders. “She spoke to me!”

“Perhaps you overstrained yourself?” suggested Tobias.

Glaring hard at the tomble, Kenders exclaimed, “I did not ‘overstrain’ myself! I am telling you, there was a woman here!” She turned to the aicenai. “Khin, I swear it!”

In his soft, drawn-out manner, Khin said, “I believe you.”

Relieved, Kenders said, “Thank you.” She was about to ask why when Gamin spoke.

“As do I,” murmured the mage.

His words alone were cause for surprise, but paired with the oddly pensive tone in which he spoke them and the strange glint in his eyes, they were thrice as curious. While his response intrigued Kenders, it had a much greater effect on Khin. The aicenai turned to peer at Gamin, the parchment-thin skin around his eyes crinkling with honest shock.

Before any questions could be asked, Tobias stepped forward and asked, “Whatever it was that happened can be discussed later. Just be happy we’re not dead and let’s focus on the fact that this battle is not over yet.” He jabbed his walking stick in the air, pointing to the west. “The rest of Tandyr’s army still waits.”

Nodding, Kenders said, “You’re right. If we could find Wren, he might be able to—”

She stopped short as the constant, humming undercurrent of magic to the west went quiet in an instant. It was as if she had been standing beside a massive waterfall that had abruptly stopped, freely flowing one moment and dammed the next.

In a stunned, quiet tone Gamin muttered, “Bless the Gods.” The large redheaded mage was staring westward, his eyes wide in surprise. Swiveling her head to stare into the Marshlands, Kenders gaped.

The horizon was empty. Nothing but trees and marshes awaited their stares.

Tandyr’s army was gone.

For a few moments, nobody said a word. Then, Sabine broke the silence by asking the obvious.

“Where did they go?”

A chorus of surprised cries from the walls told her they were not the only ones to have noticed the army’s disappearance.

“Are they hiding?” asked Sabine. “Could they be using magic to conceal themselves?”

“No,” said Kenders, shaking her head slowly. “There are fewer Strands now. Before, there…were…” She trailed off, thinking over what she had been feeling.

Silver. White. Gold.

Her eyes went wide. She knew why the pattern had felt familiar. She had felt the combination before, not long after discovering that she was a mage, at the foot of the cliff a few miles south of Fallsbottom.

“Hells,” she muttered. “I know what happened.”

“You do?” asked Tobias.

Pressing her lips together, she whirled to face Khin.

“If you want to make someone see something that is not there, what Strands are needed?”

The aicenai did not answer with words, but the slight widening in his eyes was enough to tell her he knew what she was getting at.

“Soul, Air, and Will?” pressed Kenders. “Am I right?”

Khin remained silent, staring westward. The worried look in his eyes made her wish she could read his thoughts.

After a moment, Tobias answered her question saying, “Yes, you’re correct. But in order to fool this many people—” he waved at the walls ”—you would need a nearly infinite number of all three types…of…” He trailed off and stared at nothing, his face blank. A heartbeat later, he shut his eyes tight, shook his head, and sighed, “Oh this is bad. Very, very bad.”

Khin spoke aloud what at least a handful of them were thinking.

“The Cabal have three of the Suštinata.”

“Or more,” added Tobias bitterly. “But at least Will, Soul, and Air.”

Sabine asked, “So what does this mean?”

Kenders stared back to the empty horizon. She felt ill.

“It means we have no idea where the rest of Tandyr’s army is.”

25
^th
of the Turn of Maeana, 4999

A gentle, cool breeze blew past Jak as he emerged from the port. He drew in a deep breath, relishing the fresh, clean air, thick with the scent of grass. Coming from the rank odor of Demetus, he more than welcomed the change.

He took a few steps forward, stopped, and scanned the Southlands prairie. Much of the landscape was exactly how he remembered it—endless fields of waist-high grass stretching from horizon to horizon—yet three things were decidedly different. For one, the grass was a dusty green as the land weathered Winter. Secondly, to the south, the profile of a small town rose up from the prairie. During his time in the grasslands, the only structure he had seen had been the Moiléne homestead. The final difference was a bit more prominent.

Shaking his head, Jak marveled, “Gods, that’s a lot of people.”

Thousands upon thousands of refugees were scattered amongst the plains. Much of the grass within the bounds of the temporary settlement was flattened, trampled by the Borderlanders living here now. Jak spotted a few nearby tents, but most people simply sat on the ground, gathered in small groups. Wagons, carts, and horses were strewn about the area, laden with supplies and, hopefully, food. Bearded, blue-and-gold-clad Southern Arms soldiers were everywhere, ostensibly patrolling the area to keep order.

Several dozen paces away, two soldiers noticed his arrival and stopped. They stared at him, the expressions on their faces a mixture of curiosity, distrust, and a hint of awe. The pair turned to one another and began to speak amongst themselves, repeatedly glancing in Jak’s direction. A quiet argument broke out within moments.

Hearing the swoosh-swoosh sound of boots moving through grass, Jak looked down and to his right in time to see Tobias arrive at his side.

The tomble nodded in the direction of the soldiers and asked, “What’s with them?”

“Well,” sighed Jak. “If I had to guess, they’re debating who gets to greet us, and who gets to report that two people just stepped out of thin air.” In most situations, Jak would have added a smile with his quiet quip, but today was different. Smiles were not appropriate.

The soldiers apparently reached a decision as one of the men turned and began hurrying through the sea of grass and people, away from them.

“I bet he won,” mused Tobias.

Jak was thinking the same thing. Suspending the ban on magic did nothing to erase people’s fear and distrust of it.

A worried frown on his face, the remaining soldier began to approach them, his pace slower than one might expect under normal circumstances. While waiting for the reticent soldier, the third and final member of Jak’s group arrived, again with the soft rustling of grass.

Jak glanced over and, keeping his voice low, said, “You don’t have to be here. Just let me tell them—”

“No, Jak,” murmured Kenders. Her voice was quiet yet firm, her face drawn, her eyes red and puffy. “I need to do this.” When a quiet sigh slipped from Jak’s lips, she turned to glare him. “Don’t, Jak. Just don’t.”

Jak held her stare a moment before saying, “Fine.” Both he and Nikalys had tried to encourage Kenders remain in Demetus and let Jak come alone, but she had refused. Looking forward, he said, “We’ll do it your way.”

The lack of sewn symbols on the soldier’s tabard marked the Southern Arms man approaching them a footman. He stopped a half-dozen paces away, made a valiant effort at smiling, and said with a touch of nervousness, “Good days ahead to you all.”

Jak waited for his sister to respond. When she did not, Jak moved on to the next most important member of their group and glanced down at Tobias. After a moment, the tomble looked up at him and shook his head.

“Sorry, Jak. I’m just the horse and cart to get you here and back. This is your show.”

Nodding, Jak looked back to the soldier.

“What’s your name, footman?”

“Gales Bienne.”

“Well, then, good memories behind, Footman Bienne,” said Jak. Lifting his right hand, he pointed to the single white circle stitched on his black tabard. “I’m Corporal Isaac.”

The footman’s eyes widened a fraction.

“Yes, Corporal. Sorry, Corporal. I apologize. Your arrival…knocked me off my guard a bit.”

“Not every day you see that, is it?” asked Jak, nodding back at the where the port still hovered.

Footman Bienne’s gaze shifted past them. With a quick shake of his head, he said, “No, Corporal, it’s not. This would be my first.” A soft pop filled the air as Tobias let the port close. The soldier’s eyes widened further as he took a quick step back.

Ignoring the man’s response, Jak said, “Can you take us to the command area, please?”

The man continued staring at the empty space behind them while nodding quickly.

“Of course, Corporal. Follow me.”

Footman Bienne faced northeast and began walking. Tobias moved after him immediately with walking stick in hand, leaving Jak alone with Kenders. Turning to his sister, Jak said, “After you.”

Without meeting his stare or responding, Kenders stepped after Tobias. Jak stared at her back as she walked through the grass, wishing there was something he could do to help her. Kept awake last night yet again by unremembered dreams, he had tried to come up with a way to ease her misery. By the time dawn came, he was still without answer. Reaching up to rub his tired eyes, he let out another sigh, dropped his hand, and followed the procession.

They garnered stares from nearly everyone they passed. Jak pretended he did not notice the whispers and pointed fingers, but he did. If he moved near enough a group of Borderlanders, he would sometimes get a word of thanks or encouragement. Word of the battle’s result had been sent yesterday via a port. Jak expected that while most were happy with the result, they would have preferred a proclamation of complete victory over the Sudashians. Jak had a feeling they would be waiting for that for a long time.

Tobias’ measured pace slowed their progress through the camp, but they eventually reached a concentrated group of tents. More soldiers milled about here, more wagons and horses were lined up nearby. Even though nothing marked this place as the camp’s hub, Jak suspected that was exactly what it was. His hunch was confirmed when he spotted Boah standing outside one of the larger tents, a wide smile fixed on the stocky Borderlander’s face. It began to fade quickly as he looked them over. Each step closer killed more of the grin.

To Boah’s right stood a tall soldier, well built with a thick blonde beard and shaggy hair. Jak guessed he was looking at the captain of the Southern Arms detachment here, a Captain Lette. Once he was close enough, Jak noted the markings on the man’s shoulders, confirming his suspicions. The soldier watched the trio approach with an indifferent, almost detached expression on his face.

As the footman reached the tent and stopped, the entrance flaps parted and Tiliah stepped from the dark interior.

Jak’s step faltered, his heart leaping into his throat. He thought he had prepared himself for this moment. He was wrong.

He shot a worried look at Kenders, but could only see the back of her head, her Harvest-straw blonde hair blowing freely in the breeze. He said a silent prayer that she would be as fine as she kept claiming she would be.

Tiliah’s gaze fell on them and a quick smile flashed over her face. Like Boah’s grin, though, it slowly slipped away as her eyebrows drew together. Jak wondered just how forlorn they looked.

Tobias and Kenders drew even with the footman first and nodded quiet hellos to Boah and Tiliah. Jak arrived a moment later, offered a forced smile to them both, yet turned to the captain to speak.

“The duchess sends her good wishes, Captain Lette.”

The soldier—who had been staring curiously at Tobias—lifted his gaze to Jak’s face. In a bland, emotionless voice, he said, “Thank you, Corporal.”

Jak waited for the man to say more, but he did not. The duchess had assured Jak that what Captain Lette lacked in charisma, he made up for in efficiency.

Looking to Boah, Jak asked, “Is this your tent, then?”

With a modest shrug, Boah said, “It’s where I’m at from before sunrise to past sunset, if that’s what you’re asking. I sleep under the stars like the rest of us, though.”

Nodding to the tent entrance, Jak asked, “May we step inside?”

“Of course,” said Boah, stepping aside. “Please.”

Jak motioned for Tobias and Kenders to enter first. The tomble deferred to Kenders, and after a moment, she stepped forward. Tiliah stared hard at her as she moved past, but Kenders did not meet her gaze.

Steeling himself, Jak asked, “Tiliah, will you join us as well?”

The furrow in her brow deepened.

Quickly shifting his gaze to Boah, Jak added, “Can you send for Zecus’ mother, please?”

Boah flinched as though someone had started to throw a punch at him. He glanced at Tiliah, nodded quickly, and said, “I’ll fetch her myself.”

“What’s wrong?” pressed Tiliah, her voice turning hard. “If something happened, I want to know now.”

“I’ll tell you everything,” said Jak quietly. “I promise.” He nodded to the tent. “Inside.”

Tiliah stared back in the direction from where they had come.

“Where’s Zecus? He promised to come as soon as he could after the battle.”

Jak’s heart felt as if it was being squeezed by an oligurt’s fist.