The Wayfarer King (37 page)

“A fat lot of good that did,” Liera said. “Look where we are. We’re all going to die!” She burst into tears and hugged her boys closer.

Daia knew there was nothing she could say to comfort this distraught family or protect them — or Gavin for that matter. Once he realized they were missing, he’d storm in here with the remaining Sisters to fight Ravenkind. And when he did, he would need Daia’s help.

A vile feeling like creeping fingers of tar reached for her conduit. Ravenkind.

Brodas felt the strain of pushing in his temples and realized he was getting nowhere. He’d nearly had her a few weeks ago in Sohan. She was stronger now. He was weaker. What was different? He’d had the gems in Gavin’s sword. That was it.

He rose and went to his chest, pulled out a few gems and sat back down. They weren’t like Gavin’s gems, but they were better than others he’d worked with in the past. After shrugging a few times and loosening his neck, he shut his eyes and tried again, this time focusing through the gems.

He could see her power with his false eye, a fiery tendril of strength. He reached for it with the source of his magic, but he couldn’t grasp it. It flickered and danced like a flame, easily escaping his every attempt to take hold of it. The gems in his hand cracked from the stress he put on them and crumbled into pieces.

Frustration knotted the muscles along his spine. He was getting nowhere. With the crown so close, he paced the length of the floor, waiting for Red and Cirang to return. Everything hinged on his ability to use her conduit. There had to be a way to lower her defenses. The drumming of hooves approaching was a welcomed sound. He went out to meet them.

“Red,” he called. “I need you to get Daia out of the cellar then knock her unconscious.”

The big man handed his reins to Cirang and followed Brodas inside. Brodas unlocked the cellar hatch, and Red pulled it open, sword ready. “Time to come out and play, Daia.”

She stood and dusted off her hands.

“Daia, don’t go,” Liera said. “He’ll kill you.”

“No, he won’t. I have something he wants, but he won’t get it.” She climbed confidently up the ladder. Red shut the cellar door again and pushed her in front of him. “Whatever you’re hoping to accomplish,” Daia said to Brodas, “you’ll fail. You can’t use me, and Gavin’s much stronger than you can—”

Red struck her on the side of the neck with the edge of his hand. She crumpled to the floor. Brodas checked her neck for a pulse and found one. Good. Now he should be able to get somewhere.

Cirang came in examining something in her hands. Brodas recognized the shape of Sithral Tyr’s horrid little cat figurine. “Where did you get that?” he snapped.

“It was in Daia’s saddle bag. Do you know what it is?”

Proof that Sithral Tyr was dead. He wouldn’t have parted from it willingly, especially after Brodas had held it captive for nearly two years to secure Tyr’s service. “It contains the soul of the Nilmarion Sithral Tyr. You’d be wise to bury it somewhere and forget it.”

After retrieving another gem from his cache, Brodas took his seat and shut his eyes. He took hold of Daia’s lovely orange tendril of power, gripping tightly. Strength surged into him with such force, he gasped.

“My liege?” Cirang asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. More than fine. Quiet now, let me concentrate.” In truth, he was practically giddy. Never had he dreamed an unhindered connection with a mystical conduit could be so exhilarating. It took a moment for him to calm down enough to focus. When at last he was ready, holding three gems in one hand and the summoning rune in the other, he whispered, “Ritol, I summon you to me by the power of the rune Whemorard.”

Something in the air shifted suddenly, like a wind being jerked. A slit formed in the room, like those he’d found and opened to let beyonders in. But this one was different. This one was bright in comparison and blue rather than red. At first, he was afraid he’d mistakenly summoned something else, something other than Ritol, the prince of beyonders, but when he saw the black foot come through with its four obsidian talons, he knew he’d done it. The monster crawled completely into the cottage, and the slit snapped shut. Brodas’s ears popped.

Ritol smelled like a piece of meat that had been left to rot in the sun for hours. Its face was hideous to behold, with eyes the very definition of terror and a mouth that opened to reveal death itself. It was smaller than he thought it would be, and it didn’t stand on two legs as Sevae’s journal had described. Instead, it slumped on the floor, quivering like a dog nearly dead from starvation. Again, Brodas wondered whether he had erred. This thing looked too weak to hurt a field mouse, let alone battle Gavin Kinshield and his forces.

Red and Cirang both stepped back, their faces filled with terror and disbelief.

Brodas stood. “Don’t be afraid. It’s completely under my command while it’s in this realm. Ritol, welcome. It’s an honor to have your service.”

“I... hunger...” it said in a tritonal voice that was discordant and horrific. The sound twisted the very soul, making Brodas want to slink away to avoid ever hearing it again.

“And you will be fed.” Brodas plastered a smile onto his face that felt more like a grimace. “Red, fetch one of the swordswomen from below.”

Cirang’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

“What about that one?” he asked, pointing at Daia.

“No. She’s more valuable to me alive. I’m done with her for now. Put her back in the cellar.”

Red and Cirang took Daia by the arms. When they started to drag her toward the cellar opening, she groaned and opened her eyes. “By Yrys,” she whispered. She jerked her arms out of their grasp and began crawling like a crab backward, away from Ritol. “You fool! What have you done?”

Red grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her to the cellar’s edge. None too gently, he pushed her over, and she fell in with a thud and a grunt.

“Daia, are you hurt?” someone asked.

“I’m all right,” Daia said. She sat up, rubbing her head.

“What’s that smell?” the youngest boy asked.

“That’s what evil smells like,” the swordswoman Nasharla said, glaring up at Brodas.

“That one,” he said. “Bring her.”

Chapter 47

Once he’d mounted his warhorse, Gavin gazed at his ring with his hidden eye. Its thread stretched toward the southern-most district, the part of Tern that had burned a couple of years earlier. He searched for Daia with his hidden eye and found her amidst several other hazes, hazes he recognized. “She’s in the Garnet district.” He heeled Golam to a trot and set off toward the south.

“How do you know it’s her?” Edan asked, riding up alongside him.

“Her haze is different from everyone else’s. Whatever it is that makes her a conduit, I can see in her haze. Everyone’s with her — Feanna, Liera, the children, Dona and Nasharla. There are three others too, but I don’t recognize their hazes. I’m betting one’s Ravenkind.”

“Let’s hope they’re unharmed.”

Ravenkind better hope not even a hair is out o’place on their heads.

Tennara cantered ahead of the group, shouting, “Make way!” to clear a path for Gavin, Edan and the remaining nine Sisters to ride at a trot. Townsfolk scrambled to move their horses, donkeys and carting dogs to the curb, many cursing and gesturing rudely in complaint.

From a popular brothel emerged the blond warrant knight, Adro Fiendsbane, who watched in surprise as Gavin and his contingent thundered past. A few minutes later, someone behind Gavin shouted his name. Adro galloped on his mount to catch up. “Gavin! Do you need another sword?”

Gavin waved him forward. “We could use another strong arm. Join us if you will.” Adro was an excellent fighter and would be a welcomed addition to their force.

“What’s happening?” Adro asked.

“Brodas Ravenkind’s holding hostage my sister-in-law and nephews, three Viragon Sisters, my lady Feanna and her children.”

“He has Miss Feanna?” Adro’s expression turned angry. “Hell’s teeth!”

Gavin felt a surge of jealousy and protectiveness. He knew well Adro’s penchant for seducing women, even at the cost of his honor. It was the reason behind the brand on his forearm.

As they continued south for several blocks, the activity on the street thinned. Soon, evidence of the fire became apparent in the scorched trees and blackened walls. Homes were empty, businesses abandoned. They were getting close.

A sudden pressure in the air made Gavin’s ears feel as if they were stuffed with cotton. “What the hell?” Something was horribly wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Edan asked.

“Do you feel that?” Gavin wiggled a finger in his left ear, trying to lessen the pressure. A moment later, it was gone, and his ears snapped back to normal.

Aldras Gar!

“I don’t feel anything. What is it?”

He saw a new haze join the others. It had the dark, violent energy of a beyonder except magnified a thousand-fold. It reeked of vileness. It embodied the very definition of chaos. Looking at it was like staring at his own death. A deep sense of dread rippled through his body. His instinct told him to flee, though he knew he could never escape it. It would come for him, hunt him relentlessly until it killed him and devoured his soul and King Arek’s magic with it.

Ritol.

Aldras Gar!

“Stop,” he said, reining Golam in. “We’re too late. It’s here. Somehow he set it free.” He heard the tremor in his voice. No doubt about it, he was terrified.

Edan and the Sisters stopped their horses. “Gavin? What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”

“Ritol’s not trapped in the palace anymore. Ravenkind must’ve had the other summoning rune. It’ll be coming for me.”

On Tennara’s lead, the Sisters drew their weapons. Edan nocked an arrow in his bow.

Beside him, Adro followed suit. “What’s our plan?”

Gavin ran through the options in his mind: try to fight an immortal being long enough to tire it out and hope it flees until they form a better plan, or return to the past and beg Arek to give Gavin the summoning rune. He would have to convince Arek to bring the rune to the Garnet district and hide it somewhere in the rocks... and hope that the next two centuries wouldn’t disturb it. No. What if the rune Ravenkind used was the one he’d found in Arek’s hiding place? Then the answer shone in the front of his mind, clear and bright as the morning sun. There was one place Brodas Ravenkind couldn’t go.

“I got an idea,” he said. “Wait for me here.” Edan and the Sisters would obey his command. He looked at Adro. “Don’t try to fight that thing. You won’t win.”

“Gav, what are you going to do?” Edan asked.

“Something I should’ve done two hundred years ago.”

Gavin dismounted and pulled the Rune of the Past from his coin pouch. With his haze, he reached toward Daia. She took hold of him and fed him her strength. He took some comfort in the fact that she knew he was trying to help them.

Thinking back to his visit with Arek, he estimated he’d been in the palace roughly a half-hour, but his timing had to be perfect. He’d glanced at the clock shortly before he’d been swept away. Had it said nine forty? He didn’t know if his memory was accurate, or the clock for that matter, but it was his best guess. Maybe try a few minutes earlier to be sure.