Chapter Twenty-four
I did not sleep that night. I sat in the far corner, my knees drawn up to my chest, and stared out of the slit window. I contemplated my life and my coming death. I prayed to the Goddess for mercy and begged the first diviner for answers that never came. The minutes crept by into hours, and hours turned into dawn. The first sliver of light fell on my face, and I wept.
I had long ago given up on rescue. Anyone who might have considered risking it all for me I had pushed away long ago. I had burned all my bridges. I wrestled in those final moments with the idea of begging for Adair’s mercy. In my final desperation, I thought if I could look the other way, maybe, just maybe I could find a way to stop the prophecy and live.
I knew it was futile. If I had learned anything, it was that I could not thwart destiny, except with my death. At least this way, I would not be the hand that slew Johai; it was a small twisted comfort.
Footfalls sounded on the landing, and I knew my time had come. I stood to face them when they arrived. The door creaked open, and torchlight filled my chamber. The guards’ silhouetted forms filled the doorway. Emotion overwhelmed me, and I found it difficult to breathe for a moment, and a few stray tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Time to go,” one of them said.
“I know,” I replied.
The one who spoke entered my cell, and his heavy booted footsteps seemed to echo off the walls. They hammered through my skull, ringing through my ears. Death. Death. Death. I stood, my hands outstretched, and let them shackle my wrists together and then my feet. The chains clanked into place, rattling as I moved and followed the guard out the door. I spared the small tower room a parting glance. It had been my final home, I had come from so high, and I had fallen so low. Perhaps it was a fitting punishment for my avarice.
Once more, we made our way down the spiraling stone steps, each step drawing me closer to the executioner’s block. As we walked, I reflected on my life, brief as it was. My folly seemed glaring in hindsight, and I tried to focus on the happy things. They seemed few given the circumstances. I hoped Johai would be safe and remain hidden. Selfishly, I wondered how he would take the news of my death. Would he mourn me, or had I scorned him enough to push him away? I hoped he would find a way to break away from the specter and live a long fruitful life, though I doubted it would be so easy.
The mourning sound of the wind brought me from my thoughts. I looked up, and the blue sky opened up before me. I drank in the sight, having missed it during my long confinement. The court was crowded at the edge of the cliff face; pale faces in a sea of black turned to regard my entrance. Less than a year ago, I had been among them, on the opposite side, watching Count Braun being brought to his death. I wondered if he laughed at my fate in the afterlife.
I kept my head cast down, refusing to meet their disappointed faces, and I feared seeing a familiar face among them. I hoped Sabine and Adair were not among them because if I were to see either of them, I knew it would destroy what little composure I had left.
The guards led me to the dais, where the same thick-armed executioner awaited. The waves crashed, and the howl of the wind seemed fitting to be the song to play upon my death. I glanced at the sharp edge of the axe. The executioner nodded to me, and fear twisted in my gut. I do not want to die! I thought. I want to live. The axe glinted in the dawning sunlight, and a shiver slithered up my spine. The guards yanked on my chains and forced me to my knees. A wild hysteria was building in me, and I involuntarily wrenched at my bindings. No, I cannot give in. I shouted something wild and incoherent.
A steady drumbeat picked up, and for a panicked moment I thought a vision would grip me in those last moments, saving me from any pain, but it was not so. It was the death chant, a thrumming lament to guide me into the afterlife. The guards forced me to bow forward and shackled my arms to the block, forcing me to face the sawdust-covered ground. The shackles locked with a clink. I had just enough room to lift my head and gaze at the crowd. I took one sweeping look across them. Their faces all seemed to meld into one gray and black blur. I realized I was crying. I blinked, trying to stop my tears, but they pattered onto the sawdust beneath my head.
Heavy thuds sounded as the guards left me with the executioner. I closed my eyes as the sound of their feet faded away. This was it, the moment I died. Seconds ticked by as I waited the fall of the axe.
Nothing happened. The crowd grew restless, and a murmur moved through them. I held my breath for a few more bated seconds; then I twisted my neck as far as I could to look at the executioner. His lean arms swung back as he prepared for the killing blow. I closed my eyes tight and muttered a prayer to the Goddess.
“Take me into your arms, mother of all!”
I heard the gasp of the crowd, and I clenched my hands into fists and bunched my shoulders up. The swing of the axe brushed air against my exposed neck, and the clang of metal upon metal rang out. I opened my eyes when I realized I had not been struck. The brush of air blew past me followed by a second clang of metal.
I stayed still, expecting a trick, as if the moment I turned to look, he would bring the axe down upon my neck.
“Time to go, Maea,” a voice said, and I dared not believe it to be true.
I sat back on my haunches and upturned my head to the axe-man. His hands thinned and elongated. His thick muscles faded, and in their place, a man of lean stature remained. The axe-man pulled back his mask and revealed his face. I was too shocked to register the features. It could not be. Please let this not be a dream. Johai reached out his hand to me. I took it with a trembling hand, and the shackles, still around my wrists, jingled as I did so.
“How—” but there was no time for words. Guards surrounded us, swords drawn, and shouted commands to seize the pair of us.
Over their heads, I caught Adair’s gaze, furious and perhaps a bit relieved. However, that may have been wishful thinking on my part.
Johai wrapped an arm around my waist and urged me back and closer to the cliff face.
“There’s nowhere left to run. They have us surrounded,” I said.
“Trust me,” he replied, and with no other choice, I did.
He took a step in front of me and shielded me with his body. The guards were closing in, moving lazily, confident in their abilities to apprehend us or force us over the cliff’s edge.
Johai closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. It came out like a hiss, then a howl as it grew in intensity. The guards’ hair whipped back as if they were in a gale-force wind. Their sword arms were bent back as if made of reeds, and they struggled to close in. The wind whipped my hair around also, and the spray of the sea dampened my gown.
“Kill him!” Adair shouted over their heads.
“Run,” Johai commanded.
I did, without delay. I skirted the cliff’s edge, searching for a possible escape route. I came up short along a narrow animal trail leading down a wending path to the cliff base. I peered over the side dubiously. The crumbled stone did not appear stable enough to hold my weight let alone Johai’s and mine. At the base, tethered to the sharp rocks, a small boat bobbed on the waves.
I should not have, but I looked over my shoulder. At least half a dozen soldiers were gaining despite Johai’s spell.
Johai pulled up to me, his face strained. “Maea, go!” He grabbed me hard by the arm and steered me towards the crumbling path.
“It’s too steep!” I protested.
“I came up it, you can go down it.”
I had a choice between a quick death by fall or a slow one at the blades of the palace guards. I decided to risk it. I stepped gingerly onto the path. Johai followed, and we went as quickly as we dared. The shouting from up above grew louder, but the guards gained no ground. I wondered if Johai’s wind still held them at bay. Johai’s labored breathing and the sweat shining on his forehead concerned me. It must take tremendous effort to maintain the spell, I thought. The sea soon drowned out all other sound as we approached. I did not
dare look anywhere but forward. For if I looked down, I am not certain I could have continued.
My foot slipped as a bit of earth gave out beneath me. The ocean below swayed, and I threw my arms out for balance. Johai shot his arm out just in time, pulling me back to safety. My heart pounded rapidly, and I could feel his labored breathing against my back. Twice today, he saved me. I did not deserve it after everything I had done to him. I owed him more than I could ever hope to repay.
I pushed it from my mind. I would worry about it once we were safe, if we were ever safe again. At the bottom of the cliff, there was a small outcropping. Waves lapped up against it, and on a tether was the boat, little more than a two-person rowboat.
“Get in!” Johai shouted. He kneeled down and gathered water in his cupped hands. Once more, he murmured into the water, the sound akin to a gurgling spring before it grew into a sucking hollow sound. If he could hold back the guards with wind, what could he do with water? I shuddered to think of the continued strain on his body. I took a seat and one of the oars. Johai jumped in after me and undid the tether. He nudged me out of the rowing seat and took both oars in his grip.
Our progress was slow, much too slow. Johai, already weak from his craft, had trouble fighting the waves that crashed over us and filled the bottom of our rowboat. I found a bucket beneath my seat and proceeded to bail out the water that continued to fill our small vessel.
Over my shoulder, I glanced back towards the cliff top. The men had retreated, but I had a feeling that was not the last of them. A few, with crossbows, had made it down to the ledge at the bottom, and one long-shot arrow zoomed dangerously close to Johai’s head, zinging by and ruffling his white hair. We had not gotten far, I was already soaked to the skin, and my long confinement and malnourishment had left me weary. I wondered what his spell did and why he had not used it to ease our passage away from the palace.
Exertion stretched his features, and I feared he would collapse from exhaustion soon. I shivered while watching the shore shrink away, the soldiers melding in with the cliff side. Somehow, we made it past the crest of waves just as the sun began to rise far off on the horizon.
“I think we’re safe…” I began.
“Not… quite…” Johai panted, nodding in the direction south of us, where a single ship was coming up around the coast towards us.
“What are we going to do? There’s no way we can out-row them.”
The ship extended sail, and oars lowered into the water. They were cutting through the water at an impressive speed. In just the time since I had spotted them, they had already halved the distance between us.
“Don’t… worry… not yet…” Johai stopped rowing as he panted and clutched his chest. We rocked back and forth on the water’s surface, sitting ducks awaiting capture.
“We cannot give up now!” I urged Johai, but he had closed his eyes as if meditating. I turned to look at the coming ship, close enough now that I could make out the sailors upon the deck. Had all of this been for naught? I could not hear past the howl of the wind and sea, but I imagined they shouted orders demanding our capture. Then everything changed. The wind grew deathly calm, and the ocean went still.
“Watch,” Johai said, and I felt a prickle of dread creep up my spine.
A wave rose from the still waters, rising higher and higher before taking the form of a fist. The sailors stopped rowing to stare and point. I saw it before it actually happened, and I wanted to look away, but I could not. This fist came down upon the ship with a crack, and it split in two. The sailors scrambled across the deck in an attempt to avoid the crevice the wave had created down the middle. There was no escape, however. The two ends of the ship upturned and folded inward.
The crumbling decks tossed men into the sea. A few clambered onto floating pieces of debris and watched as the ship sank into the ocean. I counted the bobbing heads on the water’s surface, at least thirty of them. Then the water began to churn. It span around until a swirling vortex opened up. Our small vessel rocked in the churning of the sea but did not move. I watched in horror as the men tried and failed to out-swim the sucking vortex until one by one they and all that remained of the ship were carried to the bottom of the sea.
I stared in disbelief at the place where they had been.
“How…?”
“That is the power I possess, Maea.” Johai stared at me. His hair was falling loose, and strands of white blended with his pale face. This power, this monster inside him, it was terrible. So many lives sacrificed for mine? What was I compared to them?
“Why?” I asked, once more staring out at the empty sea.
“This power is only meant for destruction.”
I looked him in the eye then. His normally blue eyes were dark as night and endless. In them, I saw the smirking face of the specter. Johai’s hands trembled on the oars. The power was killing him from the inside out. I read the message in his eyes: kill me before it does.
Could I? I knew destiny required it of me, and after seeing the extent of his power, it should have been an easy decision, and yet it was not. I had risked everything, given up my past, to save him, and I was not willing to give him up, not yet.
Johai attempted to take over the oars again, but I pushed him aside, and I rowed. I rowed along the shoreline for perhaps half a mile. It was arduous, and I feared my back and hands would fail, but I continued. No more ships came in pursuit. I think Johai’s point had been made. Adair was ambitious but not reckless by any means. He would not come for us until he was certain he could capture us.
After rowing for a time, Johai took over, and we alternated back and forth until we reached a bay, miles up shore from Keisan. By that time, my hands were blistered and sore. On the sandy coast where we landed, a man waited with three horses.
There was no time to speculate on Johai’s accomplice. A gentle wave rose up and brought us to the shore. I heard Johai mutter the spell under his breath and did not need to wonder how. He helped me from the boat and onto the shore. As we approached, I realized the man waiting for us was Beau, Sabine’s guard. The horses he held tethered reared as we approached, and Beau strained to keep them under control.
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
Beau did not answer me and instead tended to the animals, soothing them and murmuring nonsense to calm them. They skittered around, and I looked about to see what had scared them. Johai kneeled in the sand beside the boat and clutched at his skull. He arched his back as if in pain. I ran to his side, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“Don’t come near me.” His voice was not his own, and when he looked at me, I saw the specter’s face overlaying his.
“Johai?” I took another step.
He pressed his palm to his face. “Stay away, Maea.”
I recoiled, but given my resolve to save him, I drew closer despite his commands. I hesitantly pressed my hand against his back. He snatched my wrist and stared up at me through the eyes of the specter. The monster’s message was clear: he is mine.
“I will not give up,” I said.
We stared at one another, the specter and I. For a moment, I thought I heard the sound of his hollow laughter ringing through my ears. Johai relaxed his grip and then slumped onto the ground in an exhausted heap. Beau came over to us, his expression unreadable.
“We should go. They will be sending a search party soon.”
I helped Johai to his feet, and we ambled over to the tethered horses, which pawed at the ground but otherwise were willing to let us mount.
I barely felt as if I could stand let alone ride, but we had no choice. Johai helped me into the saddle, and he withdrew quickly as if he feared my touch. He swung into his own saddle, and I could not help but wonder what was going on in his head. I knew without him telling me that the monster within him had gained a strong foothold on his soul. He had risked his life to save me and with it, I feared, a measure of his humanity.
I realized also that in order to save him, I would need to learn m
uch more about the monster that dwelled within him. There was no time to chase this thought. Though Adair had not sent another ship after us, I knew he did not mean to give up. Adair did not like to lose.
Beau led our group up and out of the bay by a narrow track up a sloping cliff side. I rode in the middle while Johai took the rear. My horse galloped up the rise, and at the top, I pulled back on the reins to survey the city of Keisan far off in the distance, lit orange with the rising sun. This was not the last I would see of it, I was sure. I turned back to Johai, who sagged in the saddle.
I feared what the future held in store for us because if I did not succeed in finding the answers to save him, I would have to choose between his life, the man who had risked it all for me, and that of every living person.
To be continued
Afterword
Thank you for joining me and Maea on her trials, as you can see the journey has only begun. The sequel Diviner’s Curse is now available. You can get story updates and news at my website. Sign up for my Story Newsletter to get information about new releases and connect with me via Facebook, Twitter and on Goodreads. If you enjoyed this book please leave a review or even contact me. I’d love to hear from you. Read on for an expert from Diviner’s Curse.
Diviner’s Curse: Excerpt
I slipped into a table at the back of the dining room at a crowded inn. The raucous voices gave me adequate cover as did my cloak that I wore pulled forward to disguise my unique features. The day was early yet, and many of the inn’s patrons were breaking their fast. I sat down with my back facing the wall and looked out across the crowded room. Men in groups sat about conversing and eating. The foreign tongue they used fell harshly on my ears. I scanned the room, looking for my companions. Johai, Beau and I had been forced to separate upon entering the city of Sanore, the Neaux capital and home of the Neaux royal family—Sabine’s family. A homesick feeling welled up in me but was quickly tamped down. I could not let my guard down even for a moment.
The barmaid came around to my table. “Can I get you anything, miss?” she asked in Neaux, the common tongue in this country.
“Nothing for now… Thank you,” I replied, struggling to form the right syllables with their proper inflections. I had been practicing since before we crossed the Danhad-Neaux border, but I was no linguist, and though I understood the language well enough, my speech was accented and faltering.
“Wave for me if you want anything,” she said and walked over to a nearby table and talked with another patron.
They were exchanging friendly pleasantries about the weather and their loved ones’ well-being when the patron said something that sent a chill up my spine.
“I saw some trouble at the south gate when I was coming this way from the lower town.”
I did not turn to look at them, as to not reveal that I was eavesdropping, but I leaned my head a bit closer to make sure I heard him clearly.
“Oh, what happened?” the barmaid asked.
“It’s those Danhadine soldiers again.” The man spit onto the ground. “They were harassing the caravans going north, and a fight broke out between the caravan master and the soldiers. Who do they think they are, coming here and making trouble in this country?” he asked the barmaid.
I relaxed in my seat. They are safe, then, I thought. I had been surprised to see Danhadine soldiers at the city gate. Soldiers from my home country in a foreign land should not have power here in Neaux, yet they were guarding the gates alongside the Neaux soldiers. That unexpected complication was the reason we had split up. Did Adair pursue us still? As the king of Danhad, he had the power to send an entire army after us if he so wished. It had been my constant fear since we’d fled from Keisan. Had he anticipated we would journey this far?
If I was correct and Adair had sent these soldiers after us, that meant that he may have an ally within the Neaux palace. Perhaps I gave him too much credit, but I had underestimated him once—I had trusted him before he betrayed me and framed me for the murder of his uncle, the former king of Danhad— I would not make that same mistake again. I did not think if I was caught, Adair would let me get away alive.
Several minutes had passed, and I considered leaving, but we had promised to meet here once we were all inside the city. I drummed my fingers on the tabletop and glanced around the room once more.
The door to the inn opened, and light flooded the dimly lit room. I averted my gaze, my eyes having just adjusted to the interior light. A figure was silhouetted in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside and letting the door swing closed behind him. Johai scanned the room. I did not raise a hand to greet him, for fear of drawing attention upon myself from unfavorable eyes. He spotted me in short order and made his way to me, cutting across the crowded room. My stomach dropped seeing him alone. Where is Beau? I panicked.
His pace was agitated, and though no one looked at him, I felt like his forthrightness may draw attention to us. With Danhadine soldiers about, we were no safer here than we had been in Danhad. My fear for Beau, however, made me less rational than I should be. I half-rose from my seat as Johai approached.
“Where is Beau?” I asked.
“Shh. Do not speak names aloud,” he hissed, and I sank back down in my seat, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. Johai took a seat across from me and glanced once over his shoulder before meeting my gaze. “He was alive last I saw him. I think some Danhadine soldiers recognized him, and he went a different way to put them off our trail. We will meet later once things have calmed down.”
I exhaled and prayed to the goddess to keep him safe until we met again. I do not think Johai and I would have made it this far without Beau. Our flight across the Danhadine countryside had taken us nearly a month and had been mostly at night. Given that all three of us were considered traitors to the crown of Danhad, we were not free to purchase and trade freely. It was only by Beau’s skills at hunting that we were able to feed ourselves. Though I was not clear on his motives for joining us on our journey, Johai was, and in the mad dash for freedom, there was no time to question.
The barmaid came back around, her arms overladen with pewter mugs. She looked at us askance. We must have looked strange with our hooded visages. “Are you sure I cannot get you anything to eat or drink?” she said.
“Some ale for my wife and me,” Johai replied in flawless Neaux. I tried to wipe the surprise from my face. We had not discussed our disguise for the city, but it seemed he had decided for me.
“Coming right up.” She hustled away and stopped to talk to a few other patrons on her way, delivering the pints.
“I hope you do not mind my presumption, an unmarried man and woman travelling together would cause suspicion.”
My words were lodged in my throat. It was not that I found the idea of being Johai’s wife abhorrent; it had merely taken me by surprise. I had tried to avoid thinking about my feelings for him. At times, a glance in my direction from Johai would send my stomach twisting in knots, but I also felt a cold detachment from these feelings as if I were analyzing them outside myself. Before my self-inflicted memory loss, I had loved Johai and would have done anything for him. Now I was uncertain, damaged, and slow to trust. I was committed to saving Johai from the specter that dwelled inside him because he had saved me. I had decided that whatever had passed between us before was over now. After what had happened between Adair and me, I was soured to romance. He made me believe that he loved me, and for a time I thought my feelings for him might be something deeper than a simple infatuation. I had decided to give up on him when he married Sabine because I thought it was for the good of the kingdom. I was wrong. He had used me and my powers so he could marry Sabine and rule Danhad, and he had designs to rule Neaux as well. How he planned that, I did not know and I didn’t care—I was finished with court intrigue. I only wanted to save Johai.
“It is acceptable,” I whispered after an overlong pause. The barmaid brought around our drinks. I took a long draught to avoi
d further conversation.
After drinking in silence for some time, Johai spoke again. “We should head out soon, before it gets too late. The man may very well have moved on if the rumors are true.”
“Why do you think the Biski are attacking now after so many years of peace?” I asked, grateful for a change of subject.
“I cannot say. It is uncharacteristic of their people to be certain.”
I stared into the amber liquid in my pewter mug. Images flashed across the surface, wild men with fierce grins and feathers and beads braided into their hair. They carried crude weapons also decorated with bones and twine. I shoved the cup away, hesitant to look further. I feared my own powers. I hated them for what they were, an inept warning system that had failed to save anyone or anything.
“There were so many Biski on the roads. Do you think they are fleeing the cities for a reason?” I asked.
“Perhaps but they are a nomadic people, for them to settle is stranger,” Johai replied, and we both lapsed into pensive thought. We had both heard the rumors along the road. The Biski were moving in force, all of them heading south, for what I could not say, but it troubled me. Could this have anything to do with the specter?
We finished our drinks, left a gold coin for the barmaid, and exited the inn. Sunlight shone brightly on the late spring day. In Keisan, the first touches of heat would be in the air, but here in this high mountain country, the wind still whipped through me like a late winter day back home. I pulled my cloak tighter and hurried to follow Johai through the myriad of alleyways and cobblestone paths.
The streets were crowded, which made it difficult to maneuver. We fought to make our way through to a marketplace, where vendors shouted over one another, desperate to be heard. The smell of baked goods and incense perfumed the air, creating a cloying scent. Johai slid between a shopping couple who were walking with arms linked and a muscular man carrying a tray of fresh bread.
After he made it past, the couple stopped at a stand with fabric of many colors and chains of pearls dangling from long threads. I was trapped between them and a steady stream of foot traffic that pinned me against the stand. Something glimmered in the corner of my eye. A string of pinkish pearls hung from a hook on a pole to the stand’s canopy. The pearls gleamed in the late afternoon sun. How could they acquire such a thing this far from the ocean?
The vendor approached me as I admired the pearls.
“Ah, the lady has an excellent eye,” the merchant said in accented Neaux. He moved out of the shadows, which had previously been obscuring his features. “Those are from my home country, hundreds of miles away. Divers swim to the bottom of the ocean to retrieve them.” He unstrung a thread and walked towards me.
I stepped back and found an unrelenting mass of bodies continued to trap me with an impenetrable wall.
“Try them on.” He grabbed my hood and pulled it back.
I tried to get away, but the crush of bodies prevented it. I made a desperate attempt to put my hood back on. But it was too late. The man had seen my dark hair and my unusual violet eyes. I had no doubt Adair had informed the common folk of who I was and what I was accused of.
“You! I know you. You’re the woman who killed King Dallin!” he shouted in Danhadine.
“Sir, you are mistaken,” I replied in Danhadine, unthinking. I realized my mistake too late, and he pressed towards me.
I attempted to force my way into the crowd, but he grabbed my cloak, pulling me back into his stand. “Don’t you dare run away. I will take you to the Danhadine embassy. There is a hefty bounty on your head.”
“Please, my lord, let me go,” I pleaded. I had come so far; would this be how I was caught? By a street merchant?
“Let the woman go,” a commanding voice rumbled.
I glanced up at my savior and found Beau standing beside me with his arms folded over his chest. The merchant did not hurry to free me but instead looked Beau up and down. “What does her fate have to do with you? Unless you are one of her traitorous allies!” he spat.
Beau dropped his hand to his hip, where he rested it on the pommel of his sword. “I would suggest you listen to reason, my friend.”
The merchant looked to me and back to Beau as if sizing up his options. Beau was a soldier and one-time personal guard to Sabine. He was tall and broad of shoulder. He had thick arms corded with muscle. The merchant was not a small man. In fact, he had a few faded scars on his face and hands. He was gray at the temples, and a burgeoning waist spilled over his belt. People stopped and stared and whispered to one another at our exchange. Many may have not understood since we were speaking in Danhadine.
The merchant’s gaze flickered to the crowd, and then he released me. I ran to Beau’s side, grateful for his intimidating appearance. His expression was grim, and his wild dark beard combined with his towering stature made him seem formidable indeed. His dark eyes were narrowed at the merchant, and if looks could kill, I am certain Beau’s would have. We were fortunate the merchant was approaching middle age and we were in a crowded place, or I think it would have turned out for the worst for us. I had never been more grateful for Beau’s good timing.
“Do not think I will not go to the embassy with this news. King Adair will know you are here! You cannot escape justice.”
Fear gripped my heart. If we were caught, we would be taken back to Keisan for execution.
“Tell him what you like,” Beau said and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me through the crowd. After that brief display of posturing, people parted for us like the tide from the shore. Beau dragged me along behind him, and I struggled to keep up. Once we were far enough away, he let me go, and we continued at a hurried pace through the crowd. Beau used his broad shoulders to his advantage, and we had no trouble getting to the end of the crowded market street. We found Johai in short order; he had extricated himself from the crowded streets and awaited us in a shadowy alley just beyond the marketplace.
When we reached him, he grabbed me by the shoulders as if he would shake me for my foolishness. “What were you thinking? We agreed we would come here only if we were careful.”
I lowered my gaze, too ashamed to look him in the eye. “I lost you in the crowd, and then I saw some pearls… they reminded me of home,” I said.
He dropped his hands to his sides. For a few moments nothing more was said. Someone shouted in the crowd, and I suspected the merchant had not waited to find reinforcements.
“We must hurry. If you were spotted, there is not much time to tarry,” Johai said, his tone clipped.
We cut down the alley that Johai had been standing in and emerged on the other side. The streets here were less crowded, though a steady stream of people walked by. I pulled up my hood and looked at the cobblestones beneath my feet. Beau walked behind us, and Johai and I walked abreast. I was glad to have Beau back. It put my mind at ease to know he was safe.
The street we took was in the opposite direction of the palace, which loomed on a hilltop in the distance. It was shrouded in low-hanging cloud cover. Turrets burst through the clouds like silent sentinels in the sky. Though the palace was magnificent, the path we walked was desolate. The farther we went, the shabbier the structures became. Doors hung loosely on their hinges; refuse was piled against walls. The crowds thinned significantly, and the occupants that meandered about were frailer, and their clothing more worn.
“Where is this mystic?” I asked. The man we had come to Sanore in search of was a renowned Biski mystic who I hoped held the answers to saving Johai.
We hurried down the street and turned down yet another alleyway before Johai replied, “Not much further.” He strode away at a quick pace, which I was hard-pressed to keep up with. I had angered him, I suspected. I hated that once again I had put him in danger. No matter how hard I tried, there did not seem to be a way to repay him for all he had done for me and continued to do. The least I can do is break this curse.
Two-storied buildings gave way to thatched cottages as we wended
our way down a winding street that led to the outskirts of the city. The homes here were arranged in a mishmash along dirt streets as we descended a hill down into the lower district. The wind blew through, stirring the hood of my cloak. I pulled it closer, concerned more than ever about keeping my appearance discreet.
Johai stopped in front of a squat home. “We’re here.”
The domicile was nothing of real note: a small square cottage with a crumbling stone wall and chickens pecking about overgrown grasses. A bundle of herbs, drying beneath the eaves, swayed in the wind. The herbs reminded me of the Magiker, and once again I felt a pang of longing for home and the familiar I had left behind. I never thought I would consider Keisan home, but being exiled, fearing even to reveal my heritage, I felt more isolated than ever.
Johai stepped up to the wooden door, which had gaps large enough that I could see the dark shadows within and strips of light that illuminated a dirt floor.
Before he rapped on the door, a voice called out from within, “Come in, I’ve been expecting you.”
A chill rippled down my spine. We had not sent word. We had only heard rumors, and I had feared that we had risked coming to the city for naught. I hoped to be proved wrong.
Johai pushed open the door, which creaked and threatened to fall apart beneath his touch. A man with white hair sat bent over a pot boiling over a fire in the center of the room. He wore long breaches rolled up to the knees and had bare feet that were callused and brown. He looked up with rheumy eyes as we entered.
“Heit tho ba regla beranta,” he said and motioned to three pillows laid out on the ground across the pot from him.
The language in which he spoke was one I was not familiar with. Johai did not blink at it and replied in the same language.
“Aba, thyuy ka serthea.”
I leaned in to Johai and whispered, “What did he say?”
“If you have a question, ask me directly, illusino,” the old man said in Neaux, pinning me with his rheumy almond-shaped eyes. The skin on his face was leathery and a dark brown from the sun.
“Then you are him, the mystic, the du-toath from the tribes of the Biski?” I asked. At last something had gone right, we had found the man we had come to find. The du-toath were the mystics of the Biski tribes. They were rumored to know of ancient magics that connected them with the earth. As a girl, I had read stories of du-toath destroying entire villages by calling forth a storm or hiding their warriors with sudden mists. I hoped their people remembered something about the specter that we had forgotten.
He chuckled. “So you are more than a pretty face.” I blushed, wondering if he was not blind or merely patronizing me. He stirred the contents of his pot and revealed a tattoo on his inner wrist: it was a square with angular cross marks overlapping it, and each line was connected like a thread without beginning or end. He then said, “I once was a du-toath, many years ago. I hail from the Clan of the Fern.”
“Aba, I do not mean to trouble you, but we seek guidance,” Johai said with a desperate edge to his tone that I had not heard before. He was always so calm and in control of his emotions.
The du-toath set the spoon he was stirring with aside and folded his thin arms over his bare chest, which hosted a patch of white hair that contrasted against his nut-brown skin. “They do not come here if they do not seek.”
“What do you know of spirits?” I asked, taking the lead. I was impatient for answers.
The man directed his milky gaze away from us as if looking beyond and into time itself. “Your impatience will hinder your quest. You ask questions but do not wait long enough to hear the answers.”
His chastisement stung, and I bit back a retort. The old man exhaled and then let his gaze linger on each of us in turn. When his gaze fell on me, I squirmed beneath his regard. I felt as if he was peering into my very heart, and I feared what he would discover there.
“The boy with the white hair is touched. I could sense that upon your arrival. That is why you have come to me, looking for answers; am I correct?”
“Yes, Aba,” Johai replied. He shifted, and I wasn’t sure if it was the boy comment or the fact that the man had touched on the source so quickly. “I summoned an ancient spirit, one whose name has been lost to the sands of time.”
The man nodded. “I can feel him in this room. I know who you summoned. The question is, did you know what you unleashed when you performed the summoning?”
I had never seen Johai cowed, but he was by this old man. He looked at the flames in front of him and did not meet the du-toath’s gaze. “Yes.”
His words caught me off guard. I had thought it was a mistake made in his youth, something he had dabbled with when he was training as a magiker as a boy. I wanted desperately to interject and ask Johai why he had done this. If he knew what was in store for him, why subject himself to this fate?
The man chortled. “And you want me to help you? What’s to stop me from letting nature run its course and be done with you?”
Johai did not answer the du-toath right away. I held myself back from pressing the topic further, though I was dying to know more.
“I acquired the book from my father, who also sought the spirit’s power but never completed the ritual. I was young when I performed the summoning, a child and reckless. I knew what I summoned forth, but I was arrogant, and I thought I could control him.” Johai stared straight forward and did not meet the man’s gaze. Not that I am certain it would have been necessary; I still wasn’t sure if he was blind or not.
The old man nodded but did not respond, and I suspected he wanted Johai to continue.
“I have managed to contain him by limiting my use of magic. However, lately, my emotions seem to awaken him. I can feel my consciousness slipping. I have lost minutes, hours. I do not know how much longer I can maintain control.”
I reached over and laid my hand over Johai’s without thinking. Why had he not told me it was this serious? Of course, I suspected. At the back of my mind I knew that time was running short, but to hear it so bluntly in his own words was a different matter.
“You are strong to have held him off for this long, but a spirit of this strength will not be easily assuaged. There is only one way to prevent his rising, and that answer you already have,” the du-toath said.
I gripped Johai’s hand tight and felt him tense under my touch. “There must be something we can do!” I shouted. No matter who we spoke to, the answer was the same. There had to be a way to save him. I could not accept the fact that I had to kill Johai. He saved me; why could I not do the same?
The old man did not look at me but continued to gaze at Johai. “You know how to end this, but are you willing to make that sacrifice?”
Johai lowered his head, and I stared at his profile. The profound sadness in his eyes said it all. This was another dead end. I refused to give up, however. I had sworn to free him, and we had come this far; I would not give up.
“There has to be another way. I know that everything says I must kill Johai, but I cannot. I will not,” I shouted.
“And instead you would unleash the destruction of all things?” The du-toath’s words were like cold water splashed on me. “This is no mere trifle you play with. This spirit is ancient and vengeful, and you are kindling to his fire.”
I was not cowed; I refused to give up. “Then I will help him burn until the fires go out. A blaze cannot burn forever.”
The du-toath did not flinch but fixed me with a bland expression. His crabbed hands were flat upon his forearms. “That is not possible. Their souls were tangled the moment he took that spirit within himself. They cannot be separated. You, illusino, and women like you, are destined to be his destruction. If not, then he will be yours. And if you are destroyed, then the darkness wins, and all life will cease to exist.”
My hands shook from frustration.
“You cannot undo a century’s worth of hatred. It is in your blood and tied in with your very essence!”
“Why me? Why do
I have to be the one?” I was ashamed of my own selfishness, but it had been weighing upon me for some time, and after the du-toath’s declaration, I could not hold it in any longer.
“It is the reason you have the abilities you do. You foretold the coming of his rising, and only you can thwart it!”
“And what if I do not want these powers? What if I would give it up just to save one life instead of standing aside while everyone I care about suffers?” The tears were flowing freely now.
“That is not your fate, illusino,” the du-toath said in a low voice.
Johai touched my hand, and I realized I had jumped to my feet. I unbunched my fists and found blood pooling in half-moons on my palms where my nails had dug into the skin. The du-toath tutted and reached for a rag in a bucket nearby. He gave it to me to wash my wounds, and it had a pungent odor that stung my nose.
“We all have destinies. Some are great, and some are small. But we cannot fight fate,” the du-toath said after settling back down behind the fire.
I lowered my gaze and did not comment further. Was this my fate, to forever look into the future and never be able to change anything? To kill the man who had saved my life? I felt as if the room swayed. It was ridiculous, not possible, but—I looked sidelong at Johai. Would I forever be burdened with the ability to see backwards and forwards and forever to walk alone?
Want to read more? Diviner’s Curse is available now!
Other Works by the Author:
Diviner’s Trilogy
In the Household of a Sorcerer (A Diviner’s Novelette)
Diviner’s Prophecy (Book 1)
Diviner’s Curse (Book 2)
Diviner’s Fate (Book 3 coming soon)
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends