The Northern Approach (22 page)

Holding up his arm, Raeln showed the group his bracelet. Estin had seen him wearing it, even during their first meeting years before. The item was unfitting to the man’s size and strength, but had little value to Estin. In his younger years, he might have eyed it for sale to a thieves’ guild, but these days he could care less about such a valuable item.

Yoska’s eyes darted over the bracelet, and with a big grin he replied, “Take the pretty jewelry off. I handle it for you, yes? Will take good care of it for you.”

“That’s the problem…I can’t take it off. Will that draw attention?”

“Nonsense,” objected Yoska, pointing at the clasp on Raeln’s inner wrist. “Is not complex, even with claws. And yes, this will be big problem if seen.” Before Raeln could explain, Yoska began fidgeting with the clasp, trying to open it. He grabbed Raeln’s arm to brace it against his side as he struggled with the clasp. Soon, Yoska stopped and glared at the bracelet before turning away to spit on the ground, bringing a wry smile to Estin. “Is cheating to use magic to keep a man from removing jewelry,” Yoska explained angrily.

That prompted Estin to look at the bracelet a little differently. He had heard of items that prevented their wearers from removing them—cursed items, often twisted by the influence of something dark. He had no desire to make the others worry, but such an item could be deadly if they were not careful. He wanted to know more before they got too far into their planning. Judging by how little Raeln had said thus far, Estin guessed he knew next to nothing about the item.

Estin let his vision blur and go unfocused, giving him the ability to see some forms of ambient magic and the auras of items, generally in the form of a faint glow. The bracelet faded away in his sight, disappearing completely, while everything else magical and mundane remained in some way—everything except On’esquin. The man disappeared the same way the bracelet did.

Straining to keep control over his abilities without letting on to the others that he was doing anything, Estin pushed himself to see a little more. He searched for visible life, a trick his master, Asrahn, had taught him for finding the dwindling life of a dying person, in the hope he could heal them before their spirit was too weak to be pulled back. Immediately, On’esquin reappeared. The bracelet slowly began to form in Estin’s sight, glowing faintly as its magic was revealed to be tied in some small way to life itself. He had seen something similar only once before, when Asrahn had sent him rings to give to his children. Those rings had glowed with a distinctly similar aura, though this one seemed stronger and far more elusive. Whatever Raeln had was designed to be difficult to understand, and the fact that its magic was vaguely similar to On’esquin’s concerned him.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Raeln was saying. “It’s fused into my skin. I can’t take it off.”

Estin then reached out and turned Raeln’s arm so the top of the bracelet was visible as he let his eyes return to seeing the normal world. Upon seeing the patterned lines on the top, he growled deep in his chest and stepped away. “Turessian runes,” Estin told the group. He looked over at On’esquin with barely restrained animosity. “I haven’t seen anything good come out of those lands. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That was not entirely unfair,” admitted On’esquin, clasping his hands behind his back. “Estin has seen more than his share of what my people have done to this world. I would not even try to defend them. I only wish to be an exception.”

Turning back to the path, wanting to get away from any more Turessian magic, Estin called over his shoulder, “I’m not even convinced of that yet. You gave me power that couldn’t save my mate. I barely consider you an ally. An instigator maybe, but not an ally.” That seemed to cut through On’esquin’s defenses and Estin heard him sigh. Not caring, Estin pushed down the path, knowing the others would catch up eventually. The fox at his side ran on ahead, scouting for him.

Estin’s anger was difficult to contain. He had met On’esquin months earlier in the desert, hidden far below the sands in a tomb. The man had been evasive about everything, but had been unwilling to harm Estin, his son Atall, or his other children who had been barely old enough to walk at the time. Estin had trusted him after they had talked and made the great mistake of accepting his gift of “power.”

Stopping in the middle of the woods, Estin felt as though he could not catch his breath. He remembered that day clearly, having thought On’esquin had granted him the strength to save Feanne. She had been about to be executed, but the “gift” On’esquin had given him had taken over, changing him. He had lost control of himself to an anger he had never felt before that day and killed many of those who would have hurt Feanne. It had taken him hours to regain his senses after that. His lack of control had very nearly lost him both Feanne and their daughter, Oria.

The gift had been powerful, that was something Estin would never argue. Wizards and soldiers had died alike around him, torn apart by his claws and magic. Had he seen On’esquin that day, he would have hugged the man and thanked him for helping. It had seemed a miracle at the time.

The powers had resurfaced later, when Feanne and Estin had fought the Turessian who controlled the city of Corraith. The insane man had killed Atall and nearly killed Oria. Dozens had died around him, and it had been only a matter of time before he found a way to kill the rest of them. Feanne had used her own magic and Estin his, but they had been unable to so much as hurt the man. For all the power On’esquin had shoved into Estin, it had been nearly worthless against the Turessian, Arturis.

Oria had been the one to figure it out. She had traveled through the mists with Feanne and Estin, and she knew the risks and pain that came with it. Estin had seen the look she gave the Turessian, the acceptance of her own death when she had decided she would sacrifice herself to try to push the man into the mists, hoping that he would be killed or sent far enough away to never be a threat again.

Tears came unbidden and Estin leaned against a tree as he fought to keep himself calm, half-watching for the others to catch up.

He had taken that choice from his daughter, throwing her aside and working with Feanne to drag the Turessian into the mists. The last memory his daughter had of him was him striking her to knock her away from the mists, trying to save her. It was not the way any father wanted his child to remember him. His last memory of her was a look of utter betrayal as he and Feanne had fallen into the mists.

Feanne’s death was not the fault of the mists, nor even the Turessian. She had bled to death because Estin’s magic had failed him after they came through in the mountain lake. He was the reason she was dead. There was no one else to blame.

Falling to his knees, Estin sobbed and put a hand to the bag that contained Feanne’s remains. If he had been stronger…if he could have found a way…

The fox nosed at Estin, snapping him out of his thoughts. She sat down in front of him, giving him more of a sympathetic look than he had believed an animal could.

“You’re right, girl,” he told the fox, rubbing at her face. “No time for tears now. We’ll go help these fools and then I’ll try to get back to the desert. Either I make it or I don’t. Oria won’t wait forever for me there, so I’ll probably spend my life tracking her and the kits down. I know what I have to do. No reason to feel bad about it.”

The fox seemed to disagree, pushing aside his hand with her muzzle. She went to the bag that contained Feanne’s ashes and sniffed at it and then backed off and sat down to wait for him again, panting.

“You have no idea how much I wish you could talk,” Estin admitted, smiling weakly. “I’d love to know why you’re here and have you tell me how foolish I’m being, like Feanne always used to.”

The fox stopped panting and closed her mouth, smiling. The simple expression on an animal was startling to Estin, and he found himself at a loss for words as the animal resumed panting.

“Now you’re just creeping me out.”

Looking genuinely uncomfortable, the fox looked around, then yipped and aimed its nose toward the rest of Estin’s companions, who were hurrying to catch up.

“Are you all right?” Raeln called out, running to Estin’s side.

“I’m fine,” snapped Estin, standing back up and averting his face to ensure the tears had a chance to dry before Raeln saw them. The man already had enough worry in him for a lifetime. “Tripped on a root and stubbed my toe. Let’s go.”

Estin began walking without checking to see if any of the others were following or whether they believed what he had said. He did notice the fox watching him from the corner of her eyes, visibly questioning his reasons for lying. Having a fox watching him with more concern and understanding than the three men behind him was worrisome, to say the least.

Through his thoughts, he only barely noticed another line of glowing mists far to the west, hugging the mountain line. He would ignore those as long as he could. So long as they were following him, they would not be a threat to his children.

*

“That, my friends, is the heart of Urishaan,” announced Yoska, waving an arm across the horizon at the city that lay before them.

Much like Lantonne before it was torn apart by undead and elemental beings, Pholithia was surrounded by high walls, though unlike the simple ones back in Altis, these were incredibly ornate as well as functional. The walls wrapped around a city they had seen from afar, filled with smaller houses than those back in Lantonne, while the city itself was far larger. Also unlike both Altis and Lantonne, Pholithia had no visible fortress or keep within it. There were several larger buildings that might have been fortified, but Estin could see no single military structure as they had come down out of the hills. Then again, there had been little visible military presence in Corraith, either, and it had been a hotbed of warfare.

Before they had reached the plains, Yoska had insisted on beginning their deception, in case they were found by patrols from the city. He had produced a long rope from his pack, which smelled of mildew and a river or lake, that he tied around Raeln and Estin’s necks, giving the appearance of having them leashed, though the knots were loose and easily slipped.

When the leash had been first offered, Estin had argued and then balked. He knew it was foolish. Yoska had never done anything to make Estin distrust him, but that leash brought back memories of pain and watching his family suffer. He had thought that life was far behind him, but seeing that simple piece of rope had triggered every animal instinct inside him, ranging from panic to seething anger. After much self-debate, he had reluctantly put the leash on, though it felt as though it were choking him despite how loose it was. All the weight of guilt from letting Feanne die was only slightly heavier than that leash.

Raeln had watched Estin through the whole ordeal, looking very nearly as reluctant to put his own leash on. The man genuinely seemed to want to understand what Estin had been through, but was afraid to ask. Estin was fine with leaving it that way. As much as he wanted Raeln to understand how easy his life had been by comparison, Estin did on some level envy him.

As though it had been trained to deal with the new rules, the fox that accompanied them fell in at Yoska’s heel rather than Estin’s, keeping her eyes on the ground obediently. The animal had really begun to make Estin wonder, but he decided he would wait until he could be away from the others before investigating how intelligent that fox really was. There was a good chance it had some kind of orders from Feanne, and he had no desire to expose that in front of the others. There were enough mysteries in the wilds that Feanne had explored long before he had come along that he was willing to believe the fox was more than she appeared.

“Is only while we are near the city,” Yoska repeated for perhaps the thousandth time, somehow having noticed Estin’s scratching at the makeshift collar without looking back. “If I forget to remove it, you may put leash on me for next part of trip. Would make my third wife very happy to hear me say that, but is only fair…”

Raeln groaned at the man’s constant attempts at humor, making Estin chuckle at his expense. Whether Raeln was a wildling or not, he had never lived around the wilder people of the world and certainly did not seem ready to deal with Yoska’s oddities. Deep down, Estin wished Finth had lived to meet Raeln. The bawdy little man would have horrified the uptight wolf and maybe taught him a thing or two about how others lived. In another lifetime he would have dragged Raeln to half the brothels and bars in the region if only to scare him.