The Chosen (The Compendium of Raath, Book 1) (29 page)

“I can navigate it well enough,” Trance
said. “Stars and navigation have always been my thing, younger
Lightbearer. Don't ya remember during the Battle of Kingdom Point?
You were runnin' around wettin' yerself. 'Where am I? Where am I?'”
Trance laughed.

“It wasn't exactly like that,” Kelin said,
seeming to be explaining it to Halimaldie as much as Trance. “I was
trying to Force arrows out of my face at the time, ya ken.”

Halimaldie didn't know what battle they were
talking about and didn't know what 'Forcing' was, but he nodded all
the same.

“Remember that time on Fenner's Wagon Trail
when you tripped and fell over that naked woman?” Kelin said to
Trance. “I mean, what the hell was she doin' out there?”

Trance laughed. “What did I say to her?
Somethin' like 'I've never seen a slut in such a rut!' No, maybe
that's not right. Well, whatever it was, it was clever!”

“I need you two to concentrate,” Telin
snapped. “I can't summon this much power alone.”

Trance and Kelin stopped
talking, obeying Telin swiftly.
Telin's
clearly in charge here.

The three Kingsguardians turned towards each
other then and closed their eyes, placing their hands on their
swords in eerie simultaneity. Halimaldie sat silently upon his
mount waiting for something to happen, but the only thing he
noticed was that all three men had broken out into a strange
sweat.

A few minutes passed.

“I hear it feels a bit weird the first
time,” Telin said to Halimaldie, his voice pinched.

“
That's
what I said to that naked
woman!” Trance yelled gleefully.

And then everything shifted.

Halimaldie almost fell off of Bishop, such
was the twisting of the world. He felt his eyes were lying to him.
He looked around at the trees and there was something wrong with
them. The leaves that normally flapped quickly in the wind now
moved as if underwater. The ones close to the gathering of men
still moved normally, though. Halimaldie could almost see the
sphere the four of them were in, but he didn't want to believe it
was true.

The Kingsguardians are
somehow . . .
bending
time
?

“Lock it,” Telin grunted.

The three men shifted ever so slightly in
their saddles. Then they opened their eyes and removed their hands
from their swords.

Magic had been hitting Halimaldie in waves
lately. It was odd to be so immersed in such a world, when he never
had been before. First Yarrow's Healing and now this. There was so
much power in the world and his brain surged already with different
plans on how it could be used.

But even in the depth of Halimaldie's
business-mind he knew there were things that even he should not
take advantage of. Things that were too sacred to be harnessed. It
was this acumen that had kept him on top for so long. It meant
knowing how far you could push things before they fell apart. This
magic seemed like one of those things that might be better left
untouched.

“Now what?” Halimaldie asked Telin.

“Now,” the Kingsguardian replied, “we
ride.”

“F
or the world, time is passing normally,” Trance explained as
they rode. “But for us it goes much faster. Kelin here'll argue
with ya that it's the other way. That time goes slower for them and
normal fer us. I'm not sure it matters.”

“It does matter,” Kelin interjected.

“It doesn't. If we spent fifteen days in
this bubble, only one will have passed on the outside.”

“That's incredible!” Halimaldie said,
shocked.

“Hard as hell, though,” said Trance. “We're
the only three that can do this and sometimes we don't have enough
power to even consider it as an option. Fucks with yer bowels,
too.”

“That's too much knowledge,” Telin said.

“It does, though,” Trance said. “I'll be in
the privy for a week straight after we get back from this whole
thing.”

“How did you learn to do these things?”
Halimaldie asked. “That is, I'm assuming there are more . . .
things you can do.”

“You can feel the magic
inside of ya sometimes,” Trance said. “Urgin' ya on, telling ya how
to use it and what to do, but usually that's almost impossible to
interpret. It makes a lot of sense once you
know
what it's trying to tell ya,
but in the meantime it's just confusing. Mostly we train ourselves,
stumbling blindly through the magical dark.”

“Don't let him too far into our confidence,
Trance,” Telin warned. “I know how friendly you get.”

“Are there are other . . . what did you call
yourselves . . . other Servitors out there?” Halimaldie asked,
undaunted by Telin's words.

“There are untrained stragglers,” Trance
said. “Where do you think we draw replacements from? There's a
tournament held when we need it. Anyone can possess the magic of
course, but to bring it out . . . now that's where the trick lies.
Even you could have the magic, Hal! Do ya mind if I call ya
Hal?”

“You can.”

“He'd more likely be a Benefactor than a
Servitor,” Kelin said.

“And I'd bet ya a thousand crown notes yer
right,” agreed Trance, “but it's not necessarily true and ya know
it. Hal, magic is born of purity and truth. Ya gotta bring it out
with a true act that corresponds to the magic you're trying to
kindle.”

“I'm . . . not sure I follow.”

“There are five types right? Right. Us
Servitors derive power from lending our time and strength to
others. Lots of soldiers have the spark to become Servitors, but
it's a rare man that does. Then you got yer Protectors. They work
with animals and the like. Devotees, Monks, and Benefactors fill
out the ranks. I'm actually surprised this isn't more common
knowledge.”

“And I don't know why you endeavor to make
it so,” Telin said. “We've had this argument before, Trance. The
less people that know of the powers the better.”

“Why?” Halimaldie asked. “They're . . .
they're powerful.”

“It's like this,” Telin
continued, taking over for Trance. “If I tell you not to think the
word 'crab' while you ride, you are invariably going to think it.
If you tell someone how they can become a Servitor, or a Devotee or
whatever, they're
going to try to do
it
. Makes their acts untrue. They are
instead driven by the desire to gain power. By informing them of
the possibilities you are actually making it much harder for them
to achieve the goal.”

“Hog-swill,” said Trance.
“They'll forget about it if a true need arises. I knew about it
from rumors during my days as a soldier, but when I saved that
man's life I wasn't thinking about it and
bam
, I felt the magic swell within
me.”

“Not everyone's as brilliant as you are,
Trance,” Telin said. “And, not to cut this conversation short, but
I think it's time we enacted the second part of our travel plan.”
He glanced around. “We're far enough out and I'm well enough
recovered. Who wants to start?”

“Who wants to start what?” Halimaldie asked
nervously.

“Ya see,” said Trance, “time is distorted
and slowed outside this bubble, but we're not actually moving any
faster. At this rate it'll still take us the same amount of time to
reach the mines, which would get incredibly boring. So we're going
to speed things up a little. I'll start. Hal, you'll find a long,
coiled rope attached to your horse. Hand me the end of it,
please.”

Halimaldie did as he was asked and he saw
the other two Kingsguardians doing the same.

“Alright,” Trance said, once he held the
ends of the ropes in one hand. He closed his eyes and breathed
out.

The world began to speed by, the horses
flying across the ground. If Halimaldie had thought he was
disoriented before, now was much worse. Trees whizzed by on each
side and Halimaldie wondered how the animals didn't crash into
anything. He held on for dear life.

“This is expending so much of my stored
power,” Trance complained.

“This's what we store it for, Trance,” Telin
said. “Lead on, and let's ride.”

The party whipped across the landscape,
Halimaldie unable to believe what was happening.

“S
orry about earlier with the treasure map gag,” Trance
whispered. “Oh but you shoulda seen the look on yer fuckin'
face.”

He clinked his bottle quietly with
Halimaldie's. They were sitting around the embers of their dying
fire sharing a few drinks which Trance had smuggled against Telin's
wishes. Kelin and Telin were asleep in their bedrolls a few spans
away.

“It's fine,” Halimaldie said, taking a sip
of whatever alcohol it was that Trance had brought. It had a very
strange flavor to it, but he wasn't about to turn it down. “I kind
of had fun on my little hunt. I'm just glad we stopped that time
bubble fast business.”

“Takes some gettin' used to. Useful as hell.
But we're using up massive quantities of power for this mission.
King Maxton seems to think this is top priority.”

“What do you think we'll find down in the
south?” Halimaldie asked.

“Hopefully nothing. Yes, it would be best if
we found nothing. That way we could go back to business as
usual.”

“I thought this sort of
thing
was
business as usual for you,” Halimaldie said, taking another
swig.

“Aye. A lot of people do,”
Trance replied. “Foglins aren't something anyone wants to deal
with, though. Except them who are bat-shit crazy enough to go right
down to the Vapor. If Foglins are somehow breaking their lines and
infiltrating our kingdom then business will be very much
un
usual for a shit of a
long time. But me? I'm a simple guy.” Trance ticked the list off on
his fingers. “I like to kill Shailanders. I like to purchase
whores. I like to drink. But, I'm sworn to the King. And this is
what he wants.”

“How far'd we get today?”

Trance looked up at the stars. “Probably not
as far as any of us would like. But a hell of a lot farther than
anyone else could've!” He held up his palm and Halimaldie slapped
it with his gloved hand. “You gonna sleep in those gloves?”

“Probably will,” Halimaldie said. “Probably
will.”

“Hey,” Trance said, shrugging. “We all got
our weird fuckin' things.”

W
ren had been miserably wet for the past three
days.

It was that persistent type of rain that
drizzled and dragged on, refusing to pour and get it over with.
Wren, Tessa, Crasher, two raccoons, and the bird that had led her
to her father were all huddled together under some tall trees.
Crasher had attempted to instruct Wren on how to build a makeshift
shelter of large pine boughs, trying to model it after a cave he
particularly liked, but in the end Wren had been incapable of such
a physical task, so the pile sat next to them, heaped up and
useless.

“Wetwetwetwetwet,” the bird chirped.

“Are we almost there, Crasher?” Wren asked.
She turned the sheathed knife in her hands, wondering at the power
that had helped her build the wooden object.

“Mistress, we could possibly be there today
if we were willing to walk through the rain. But my coat is sodden
and I feel slightly ill.”

Even Tessa's proud whiskers
were limp, the mouse a morose little bundle.
They all look so much smaller with their fur slicked
down.

Wren pushed the hair back from her face and
tried to wring it out. “I never knew how important shelter could
be,” she said. “There aren't any caves near here, Crasher?”

“Not that I know of. These woods are
altogether new to me. I must admit that they are not very
bear-friendly.”

“How much wetter can we get?” asked one of
the raccoons. “We should press on if we are to get to the
Tree.”

“You're probably right,” Wren said. “Maybe I
could have the termites build us a shelter of some sort!” Wren
reached out – or tried to – the same way she had before, but
something was bound inside of her. She couldn't get the same
feeling. “I can't reach anything,” she said.

Tessa hopped out of Wren's pocket and shook
herself as dry as she could. “I'm with the raccoon, then. I say we
press on.”

“Brave words, mouseling,” Crasher said.

“Tessa and the raccoon are right,” Wren
said. “I want answers.” She looked down at her arm. The red and
gold symbol was dull and something inside of her was different now.
After she had reached out to the termites she had felt a bit empty,
as if something was missing. She was worried she had already broken
her new powers.

Crasher stood up and began to plod on, his
fur hanging in great hunks. His paws squelched in the mud of the
forest floor and Wren's boots did the same as she followed him.

Tessa stopped to drink a little bit of water
that had collected in a leaf. When she was done Wren scooped her up
and pet her lightly to squeeze some of the water from her fur.
“You're shaking,” said the girl.

“I am cold, mistress."

Wren pulled out the collar of her shirt and
tucked the little mouse between her breasts, holding her there with
her hand as she walked.

She felt the nice warm bundle there, and
slowly something within her began to fill again.

“T
his should not be,” Crasher said.

The bear had stopped short, muddy legs
sliding out in front of him with the abruptness of the halt.
Lightning split the sky followed immediately by thunder.