The Last of the Ageless (31 page)

He emerged from the grasses right beside them, knocking one to the ground with a paw and pouncing on another. He kept his claws carefully sheathed, but let out a roar. The other Purebreeds fell over themselves to flee, though the one with the unfamiliar gun wildly fired off a projectile toward Dalan as he fled.

Dalan didn’t wait to see if the Purebreeds he’d taken down regained consciousness. He hadn’t killed them, which was all he cared about. Sliding back into the grasses, he took off at a full lope toward where he’d last seen Nyr and Ti’rros. Saquey showed him the overhead view of his path through the grass. He corrected his course and caught up to them.

“I think we’re out of range,” Nyr said. She reached a hand out to help Ti’rros rise, but the Joey pushed herself up with her tail. The Joey soon outpaced them, her strides carrying her deep into the grasslands.

Dalan’s mind spun with everything that had happened. Though Nyr and Ti’rros had come for him, Nyr had also come for the loot. She’d expected him to kidnap the Advisor, making him wonder what reason the necklace had given his companions for capturing her.

And again, another Ageless told him the necklaces were more than they seemed.

The three of them headed west—toward Dalan’s home. They didn’t stop running until well into morning. Dalan transmelded into his birth form and fell back into the grasses. Nyr and Ti’rros dropped down next to him. He struggled to catch his breath so he wouldn’t choke as he downed the rest of his canteen of water. Saquey landed near Ti’rros, as though her silver color gave it some measure of comfort.

Nyr said, “You’re an idiot.”

A few moments slipped by before he registered that her words had been directed at him. He put a hand to his head, fighting dizziness. “Surprised you two bothered to rescue me.”

Nyr looked at the sky, perhaps judging the hour. Dalan followed her gaze and noticed the All-Seeing Eye floating serenely over the landscape. Long golden strands of grass framed his field of vision, which centered on the dark oblong Eye. Sometimes a glint would appear on one side or the other of the dark form.

Dalan closed his eyes and sent a mental thanks to the Eye for whatever assistance it had provided to them. Then he asked it to watch over the peaceful people of Searchtown, if they were worthy of its attention.

“Have to rest after all that melding. Why not tell me what happened?” Dalan opened his eyes.

Ti’rros pointed at Saquey, who rested on a stone not far from her. “When your insect came back, it was flying crazy, the same as when it warned of the ambush while you slept. It was clear something must be wrong, so we set out immediately.”

Ti’rros said nothing more, forcing Nyr to continue. “When we went to climb over the wall…” She backtracked, “Actually, it took forever for us to sneak through the grasses up to the wall without the towers spotting us, but then we saw about a dozen people at the wall. We thought they were townspeople, but they made no move to attack us—just sitting there, watching us. Maybe the V-shaped building was blocking the south tower’s line of vision, I don’t know. But nobody seemed to notice them.”

“Searchtown was on alert, though, weren’t they?” Dalan briefly described the conversations he’d overheard and had with the Advisor. “Seemed to know I had companions.”

“Yes, it was odd,” Ti’rros said, “because the town seemed to be locked down. The only people out were sentries, with guns and other projectiles.”

“Yes,” Nyr continued, “but they didn’t notice the marauders until we came over the wall. One of the patrols would’ve spotted us, but these dozen marauders made a ruckus and drew their attention. Like they knew we’d be there. Like they were providing a distraction.”

Nyr fingered her necklace, and then held it up so she could see it. “A group of sentries saw us anyway, and they decided to shoot first and think later. I was already in cat form, so I took care of them. We started looking around for you, and your bug led us right to you.”

“Makes no sense…” Dalan mused. “Twice now someone thought we were involved with Zen and Gryid, whoever they are. The Advisor was very interested in my necklace—said it was tracking me. Plus, the necklace was wrong about her. She actually cared about her people. Went straight toward the fighting.” He took another sip.

“It does not seem to be unintelligent.” Ti’rros gently rubbed her necklace with a silver thumb. “Why would it tell you falsehoods?”

“Am not sure. Ignored me completely the entire time I was in the town,” Dalan said. “Called to it, but still ignored me. Met the Advisor, and then it woke up. Told me not to trust her.”

“And the marauders—why were they helping us?” Nyr stood, her body rigid. “They weren’t surprised to see us.” She lifted the necklace. “Maybe this
is
a tracking device, and they used
us
as a distraction.”

Dalan’s mind expanded with the realization. The idea that solving a problem for his trials meant he must save someone’s life or rescue an entire town from a tyrant had been hubris. He’d be lucky to solve the seemingly simpler problem of removing the tracking device from around his own neck.

PART TWO

Chapter 15

Caetl struggled to keep the thoughts of the Wizard and his followers from crowding in on him. The trip home from Searchtown may have been quiet for them, but to Caetl their thoughts were a cacophony of anger, grief, and helpless anxiety filling the night. Now even the trod of the horses’ hooves on packed soil grated on Caetl’s nerves.

Sights and sounds from Gryid, Dalan, Ti’rros, and Nyr’s artifacts constantly droned in the back of Caetl’s head, making it difficult to concentrate on the world around him. They wore him down, making him more vulnerable to acute emotions of his companions. Even the horses’ simple thoughts grated. With concentration, Caetl sealed away the psychic noise bleeding from the artifacts and the warriors surrounding him.

In his mind’s eye, the village ahead weighed down the mental landscape like hundreds of fish on a fisherman’s net. As they drew nearer, Caetl could sense the individual minds on that net. He reached out to search for Kasma and Omun, two villagers who had always been kind to him while others judged him as a nosy mystic who pried into everyone’s heads. Kasma and Omun deserved to know that both their sons had died in the Wizard’s ill-advised raid on Searchtown.

Kasma,
Caetl said, directing his mental speech toward her. He sensed her movements as the woman startled, then stood, her hands clasping someone else’s—Omun’s.

What news, mystic?

He winced at the term.
I’m sorry. It’s not good news, my friend. Both of them are gone.

The emotional backlash coming through the connection to her mind threatened to overwhelm him. Though it seemed callous, Caetl could do nothing but sever the link to her.

He steeled himself at the sight of the sizable crowd gathering at the edge of Cabuda to meet them, closing his mind to the raw emotions flowing from them. Kasma and Omun had already warned them of casualties.

The Wizard had left with fourteen warriors, but returned with eight. As the villagers identified who hadn’t returned, the wails and keening began. Caetl watched Keptree and Helek fall to their knees in tears when they realized their sister Brisees had been lost. He longed to go and comfort the two young siblings, as they’d lost both their parents to sickness last year, and now to have lost their elder sibling and caretaker…

Caetl didn’t know what would happen to them, but their emotions bombarded him, and his concentration narrowed to staying in the saddle. He cast his eyes to the sky, seeking its tranquility.

The Wizard was oblivious. “Caetl, Azaiah, Cantayban, Siman, and Shujaa, come with me. It’s time we dealt with Gryid.”

Duard and Ardor grabbed the Wizard’s reins, stopping beside one of the perimeter huts. “What happened to Masun?”

Ardor’s grief at the loss of his lover was so palpable, Caetl wanted to spur his horse out of the crowd that now surged around them.

“Unhand my horse,” the Wizard answered. The crowd’s fury pressed down on Caetl like an anvil, making him gasp. The villagers remembered when the Wizard used to care about them. Now they wondered if that had always been an act to get them to do what he wanted.

Azaiah’s tail whipped around and yanked Duard’s hand off the reins. Duard glared at the four-eyed man with unmasked hatred. “Did you watch my brother die? All for the Wizard’s greed?”

“We didn’t go there to conquer,” Azaiah said.

The Wizard put his heels to his mount. “Out of the way!” He whipped the reins and parted the crowd with his horse’s head.

Getting no response from the Wizard, the crowd booed and jeered at Caetl and the Wizard’s favorites as they followed him. “Lackeys! Toadies! Bootlickers!”

Caetl heard other words in some of their minds, though they dared not voice them yet.
Traitors. Turncoats. Their time has come.

When Caetl had first come to Cabuda, the villagers had revered the Wizard as a savior. Rumors of the Wizard’s magic powers had spread far beyond Cabuda, and Caetl had tracked them, hoping this Wizard knew how to remove the purple talisman from around his neck. Instead, the Wizard had promised much and given little.

“What would you wish of us?” Azaiah asked, always seeking the Wizard’s favor.

Caetl tapped the Wizard again, testing the Ageless man’s mood. The Wizard envisioned scene after scene of Zen killing him in ever more horrifying ways. No Changeling, even a moderately powerful one like Azaiah, could hope to repel the monster. A few days ago, when the Ageless woman Soledad had accused Dalan, Nyr, and Ti’rros of being loyal to Zen, Caetl had felt his mind light up like a beacon in a storm, finally putting a name to his fears.

“I’ve no use for Gryid anymore.” The Wizard threw himself off his mount and stalked toward his hut. Siman grabbed the horses’ reins as the others dismounted and followed their master inside.

Caetl tapped the Wizard, saw the options running through the man’s head, and wondered if he could turn the tide before things got violent. The old Wizard never would’ve considered harming one of his own, but his failure at Searchtown made him spiteful.

The Wizard touched his wristlet and opened up all the force fields. Gryid lunged at him. Azaiah’s tail wrapped around Gryid’s neck, and the sudden reversal of his momentum made Gryid’s red hair bounce.

The Wizard held up the amplifier, and as usual, Caetl lost contact with his mind. Whatever the Wizard said through Gryid’s artifact made Caetl’s head pound. The Wizard smirked as Gryid fell to one knee, his hands on his head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Gryid.”

“You taunt me with freedom, then scream in my mind again?”

“No, my friend.” The Wizard laid a hand on Gryid’s shoulder and dropped the amplifier into his pocket, allowing Caetl to peek inside his head once more. “You have one more use to me.”

Caetl searched the Wizard’s mind, trying to guess which option had won out. Finally, the Wizard had come to one simple conclusion: killing an Ageless wasn’t easy, and if he showed his followers how to kill Gryid, they’d know how to kill him too.

The red-haired man turned into a boy, causing the Wizard’s hand to drop from his shoulder. “I’m not one of your pets.”

“Funny, because it looks like you’re wearing my collar.”

A grin split Azaiah’s face and his eyes flicked to Caetl.

“These devices were never meant to be abused this way!” Gryid’s youthful voice turned his protest into a pout.

Don’t provoke him,
Caetl directed his mental speech into Gryid’s mind, hoping he wouldn’t give Caetl away. The Ageless man jerked, but the Wizard didn’t notice.

“Ehhh, don’t worry, Gryid. Caetl here can tell you what a kind master I am.”

Caetl knew better than to take the bait. Instead, he stepped out from behind the Wizard to let Gryid get a good look at the device around his own neck. Caetl recognized that he’d gone to the wrong Ageless for help. The Wizard needed any advantage he could get against Zen and would never intentionally relinquish the power he had over Caetl now. As the original keeper of the artifacts, Gryid might unravel the artifacts’ secrets.

He plans to let you go home,
Caetl told Gryid.
Help me, and I’ll help you. But first we’ve got to get you out of here.

“The four of you will take Gryid here back home.” The Wizard’s gaze moved to Azaiah. “I trust he’ll give you no trouble, since he wants to see his people.” He raised the amplifier again and stepped outside. Shujaa shoved Gryid toward the door.

Gryid thought about telling the Wizard where he could put the amplifier, or that he refused to be subjugated by a fellow Ageless. But Caetl’s warning seemed to have gotten through; he resisted putting words to either of those thoughts as they all stepped outside. A breeze rippled across them, and Caetl stared at the three windmills at the edge of the village, letting their tranquility heal the wounds in his mind.

Caetl felt the Wizard’s attention turn to him, and the plan he found in the Ageless man’s mind surprised him. The Wizard had lost it if he expected Caetl to convince his other collared pawns to protect him against Zen.