The Labyrinth of Destiny (19 page)

Adesina recalled Ravi’s warning
when she had first met Cha-sak on the Threshold. He could only speak the truth
when discussing the terms of the blood contract, but he would omit important
information and choose his language carefully to make it seem more beneficial
than it really was.

Adesina noted that Cha-sak kept saying
that she
could
do things, not that it would actually happen. The only
definite term he had outlined was that her life would be tied to his—which
sounded very dangerous.

Adesina raised her chin and glared
at the ruby eyes in the darkness before her. “I was not lying when I said I did
not wish to be the ruler of humankind. There may be benefits of uniting all
nations, but I will not be the one to attempt it.”

“Are you truly so selfish that you
would deny the whole of humankind greater happiness because you do not wish to
be inconvenienced?” accused Cha-sak. “Yes, there would be years of hard work on
your part—humans are not known for easily accepting change—but the rewards of
your labors would be greater than you could ever imagine.”

“It is not that I find the idea of
hard work undesirable,” corrected Adesina.

“What is it, then?” Cha-sak
sneered.

“It is that I understand that what
you are proposing is
wrong
. The agency of individuals matters, and
forcing them to our will is an act of evil.”

Cha-sak’s glowing eyes narrowed as
he scoffed at Adesina’s words. “You speak like a child. The idea of good and
evil was invented by those who wished to control those around them. Nothing is
good or evil. They simply
are.
”

Adesina smiled sadly. “I might have
believed you once, but now I know better. I have seen evil in my own life, and
I have seen good. I know that they both exist, and I know on which side I want
to stand.”

“You think that I am the one lying,
but it is those who have taught you to believe these things who have lied to
you,” insisted Cha-sak.

“I am surrounded by those who love
me,” interrupted Adesina. “My husband, my father, my brother, my guardian—they
are my strength and my compass. Even if I were tempted by your lies, they would
guide me back to the truth. I know that they would never do anything to lead me
astray.”

“They may not always be there to
hold your hand,” Cha-sak hissed.

Adesina felt a cold anger steal
over her heart. “Are you threatening them?”

“I am telling you that when you
realize your grave error in refusing my offer, it may be too late,” the demon
spat.

“If that day ever comes,” retorted
Adesina, “you will never know of it.”

She raised her hands and summoned
her
vyala
, letting it flow through her.

Cha-sak’s ruby eyes became amused.
“You cannot block me from your Dreams. Only an Immortal has such power.”

Adesina ignored the demon and
instead listened to her instincts. Sitara had told her to trust her instincts,
and they would reveal her potential as well as her limits.

She flung up a wall of power
between herself and Cha-sak, The wall grew stronger as it expanded. Something
told her that this would keep her from entering any Dream until she removed it,
but the loss of Dreaming was a necessary sacrifice in order to be protected
from the influence of the Shimat demon.

Cha-sak’s eyes widened in shock.
“How is this possible?”

“I am no mere mortal,” Adesina said
in a ringing voice as she put the final touches on the Dream barrier. “I am the
Threshold Child.”

The western border of Sehar was
connected to its neighboring nation by a relatively narrow stretch of land. The
access area was made even more narrow by a range of jagged mountains that lined
the northern half. The narrow entry point made it quite easy for the Shimat
mercenaries to keep any travelers from passing into or out of the country.

E’nes crept forward on his stomach,
moving until he reached the peak of the grassy hill, behind which he and
Mar’sal had stopped to rest their horses. E’nes pulled out his small spyglass
and peered at the obstacle before them.

The mercenaries had felled the
surrounding trees, stacking the logs to create a jagged wall. The majority of
the force was camped on the eastern side, so the barricade could also serve as
protection against the possibility of any force marching against them.

E’nes crawled back down the hill
with a frown on his face.

“Well?” asked Mar’sal.

He shook his head. “It does not
look good. There isn’t anywhere to hide on the side of the mountain—it looks
like they just started a fire and let it burn all the cover to ash. In order to
stay hidden, we would have to climb well into the dangerous regions. The
barricade itself does not cover the entire flat area from end to end, but it is
wide enough that no one can get by without being challenged by the sentries.”

Mar’sal cursed quietly. “What are
we to do, then?”

“I am not sure,” admitted E’nes.

The group of deserting city
soldiers that E’nes had overheard in the woods had approached the barricade
openly, requesting permission to pass through. From the safety of their hiding
place, E’nes and Mar’sal had heard the mercenaries attack, and only two
survivors had escaped. It seemed that the Shimat mercenaries had their orders
not to let anyone go through—no matter the reason.

A salty breeze blew up from the
coast. It filled E’nes’s nostrils, and the scent of the sea gave him an idea.

“If we cannot cross into Etan by
land,” he said slowly, “perhaps we can try to do so by sea.”

Mar’sal snorted. “We do not have a
boat, E’nes. How could we possibly sail from here to Etan?”

E’nes shook his head. “I did not
say we would sail there.”

Mar’sal’s expression became
incredulous. “Do you mean to
swim
?”

“I doubt they would expect it,”
reasoned E’nes.

“Because it is insanity,” retorted Mar’sal.
“The coast drops off sharply, and the ocean in filled with danger. The currents
are strong, and there are creatures that feed on flesh.”

“We need not go out far into the
water,” E’nes maintained.

“We would be spotted if we stayed
in the safe areas,” Mar’sal insisted. “The only way to avoid notice would be to
venture into the deep waters, and doing so would probably get us killed.”

E’nes sighed. “What do you suggest?
We cannot climb the mountains, and we cannot swim down the coast. We
have
to get to the Gateway City. Our people are counting on us.”

Mar’sal ran his hands through his
hair. “I know, I know.”

“If only we had someone with us who
could create an illusion,” E’nes said uselessly.

E’nes possessed L’avan gifts that
allowed him to sense the physical world around him as well as use his
vyala
as a tangible force. Mar’sal’s gifts allowed him to alter the density of his
own body and to heal others. None of those things were very helpful in the
current situation.

E’nes had once asked Adesina how
she was able to use all of the L’avan gifts in spite of the limits of her eye
colors. She had simply shrugged and replied that she just
did
. She
focused on what she wanted to accomplish—which made sense, since purple in the
eyes indicated the ability to focus one’s abilities—and she made it happen.
E’nes envied the broad scope of his sister’s powers.

He did not envy what those powers
meant, though.

Adesina’s role as the Threshold
Child was a heavy responsibility to bear. She had not grown up hearing about
the prophecy. She had not always had the expectation that someone would be born
to save the L’avan people. However, she was surrounded by people who had heard
the prophesy their entire lives. Every L’avan looked to her to solve all of
their problems, to save them from every danger, and to lead them to a golden
age of peace and prosperity.

E’nes had been in the meeting where
Adesina had revealed that the prophecy every L’avan knew was incomplete. She
had told them the rest of it. But only a handful of men and women had heard the
remainder of the prophesy. The rest of the L’avan people maintained the belief
that Adesina would simply fix everything that was wrong in the world. Or, at
least, everything that ailed the L’avan.

E’nes sighed and pushed away such
thoughts. None of that would get him past the Shimat barricade, and that was
his priority at the moment.

Mar’sal placed an urgent hand on
his arm and pointed in the direction away from the barricade.

A strange figure rode in the
distance, heading south. It was an aged man wearing a strange outfit—crimson
and full of frills. His horse was of a common stock, looking as though it
belonged behind a plow, but it marched on with a determined air.

“I think I know him,” said Mar’sal
quietly. “Perhaps he can help us.”

They mounted their horses and rode
up to the man, who slowed to watch them as they approached. E’nes also
recognized the man as they drew nearer. He had seen him with the first group of
High City refugees that had arrived at the L’avan settlement, before they had
begun preparing for war.

The man had snowy white hair and a
wrinkled face. His clothing was worn but carefully mended, and he had a lute
case strapped to his saddlebags. His alert expression eased as E’nes and
Mar’sal rode close enough for their L’avan features to be recognized.

“Jahan Lirit,” called Mar’sal, “we
first met in Emerald Harbor and then again upon my return from my journey to
Zonne.”

“Yes, of course,” responded the
aged bard. “I know you, Mar’sal.”

“You left the L’avan settlement
when it was decided to retreat to the borders of Pevothem,” recalled E’nes.
“What are you doing here now?”

Jahan Lirit’s eyes narrowed as he
studied E’nes. “You are the queen’s brother, am I right? Yes, I thought I knew
you as well.” He took a breath and his expression became carefree. “Well, as I
said before in the settlement, war is no place for a man of my talents. Truth
be told, I am a pacifist to my very core. I doubt I could strike a man for
insulting my own dear mother. It seemed expedient for me to move on once the
L’avan became embroiled in conflict.”

“We would not have required you to
fight,” E’nes said in a tone that was slightly defensive.

Jahan held up both hands, “I know,
lad, I know. However, I did not want to set a bad example for other refugees.
Those who claim the benefit of protection from enemies must do their part to
help those protecting them—whether it be through joining the fight or finding
other means to contribute. I have no real practical skills, so I could not wash
clothing or mend armor. I doubt I could even gather firewood without causing
more harm than good!” He laughed. “I am only a simple bard, but I did not wish
others to follow my example by doing nothing for the war effort.”

E’nes agreed with the sentiment,
but he had a hard time believing that Jahan had nothing to offer. “You could
have helped to keep up morale. Soldiers enjoy entertainment just as much as
others.”

“As do those who are faced with
persecution,” the bard said lightly. “I have been traveling through the
villages where the Scepter of Cha-sak has left despair in its wake. I have been
trying to remind the people of Sehar that humankind has come through dark times
before, and we will do so again. Is that not the point of retelling tales of
the past—to give us hope of the future?”

Mar’sal nodded solemnly. “I believe
you are right.”

“Where are you headed now?” asked
E’nes.

Jahan pointed north. “I have made a
circle to the villages in the central and southern lands, and now I am making
my way back up toward where I began.”

“You are not going to Charan?”

The old man laughed again. “I think
you know the answer to that question. Those Scepter thugs are not letting
anyone leave Sehar, lest they are successful in bringing back help.”

“Yes,” said Mar’sal slowly. “We are
finding that to be a problem.”

Jahan’s features immediately lost
their mirth. “I see. You are hoping to get past that barricade?”

E’nes nodded. “We are not seeing a
way to make it happen, though.”

The aged musician rubbed his hands
together as he considered the situation. “If there were a way to pass safely
over the treacherous foothills of that mountain range at night, you might be
able to make it. That is, assuming the mercenaries had their attention
elsewhere.”

E’nes caught on to what Jahan Lirit
was suggesting and said, “I have a gift for knowing the world that surrounds
me. Even in the dark, I might be able to find a safe path for us and our
horses.”

Jahan gave a flourishing gesture.
“What a coincidence! I have a gift for enchanting my listeners so they are
distracted from the humdrum details of real life.”

Mar’sal chuckled. “It seems we have
a plan.”

Jahan looked at the sky. “It will
be evening before long. I am not sure that the mercenaries will allow me to
perform for them, but I will do my best to persuade them. You should move into
place so you can watch me and begin crossing the foothills as soon as I draw
their eyes.”

E’nes reached over and clasped the
old man’s hand. “Thank you,” he said in a fervent tone. “We will not forget
this.”

Jahan’s eyes took on a steely
glint. “The Scepter of Cha-sak tries to drain hope from the land and batter its
people into submission. I would be glad to see them fail.”

With that, the two companies
parted.

Jahan Lirit rode his plow horse
directly toward the barricade, pulling out colorful balls and juggling them in
complex patterns. It was easy to see his skill, even from a distance, and one
could safely assume that he would be identified as a harmless performer.

E’nes and Mar’sal rode in a
different direction. They headed north, doing their best to keep out of sight.
The foothills of the mountains were rough and filled with loose rocks that
clattered when knocked loose.

The two L’avan soldiers found a
place to hide and waited for night to fall—which took less than half an hour.
E’nes pulled out his spyglass and directed it toward the barricade.

Watch fires had been lit all around
the wall of logs, and several more glowed at a distance from the actual
barricade. The sentries would be able to see the movement of anyone trying to
sneak by.

E’nes spotted Jahan Lirit speaking
to a small group of the mercenaries and gesturing grandly. It was difficult to
see the expressions of those listening to the bard, but they seemed receptive.
After several moments the mercenaries looked at one another and shrugged. Jahan
Lirit bowed with a flourish and moved to a more prominent position.

“He did it,” whispered E’nes to
Mar’sal. “They are letting him perform.”

Mar’sal gave a grim smile. “I knew
he could. He could convince an aekuor to sit still and listen to him perform.”

E’nes then turned his attention to
the sentries on duty. Initially, they kept their eyes outward, scanning the
surrounding area restlessly. After a time, they turned more and more toward the
performing artist until they were watching him with fixed interest.

“Follow me,” hissed E’nes.

He called forth his
vyala
and his vision tinted dark green. He could sense the physical world in perfect
detail, even better than if it had been full daylight. His eyes picked out the
safest route over the next several feet, and he committed it to memory. Then he
altered his
vyala
to an orange tint and used the force of his power to
press at the loose rocks surrounding their feet, keeping them all firmly in
place. This allowed them to move much more quietly.

When they reached the end of the
path that E’nes had mapped out in his mind, they stopped again. E’nes switched
his
vyala
back to dark green and scouted out the next section before
they moved on.

Adesina had tried to teach him how
to use two lines of
vyala
at the same time, but the effort had only
given E’nes a pounding headache. Perhaps he could learn to do it in time, but
for now he had to pause and shift his power for each individual objective.

It took time and a great amount of
energy—neither of which E’nes had in abundance. He began to sweat from the
strain of what he was doing.

He had never spent so much time
studying his surroundings, and he found that it wasn’t just his vision that was
enhanced. He could feel the minute details in the rocks where he rested his
hands while he scouted ahead. The charred scent of the previously burned area
filled his nostrils as if the fire had only just happened. The smell mixed with
the rich scent of minerals and the sharp ocean breeze until E’nes’s head began
to ache from his saturated senses.

It seemed like years—eons—before
the two L’avan soldiers moved into the safety of the shrubbery on the opposite
side of the barricade. The ground became more firm, and the path was more
predictable.

E’nes slumped to the ground, his
mind and body spent from the ordeal. Mar’sal lifted his friend into the saddle
of his horse and tied the reins to his own saddle.

“You have done well this night,”
murmured Mar’sal to the barely conscious E’nes. “Your sister would be proud.
Rest now and let me take the lead.”