Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 03] - The High Lord

  A persistent wind tugged at them now that they were out of the shelter of the ravine. Akkarin walked in front, setting a steady pace. She let her right hand brush the rock wall, and tried to keep her footsteps light. The occasional stone clattered across the ground as she or Akkarin disturbed it, but the sound was blown away by the wind.

  After a long stretch of walking, Sonea found she could make out another wall several hundred paces to their left. She wondered how she could see it, then looked up. The peaks above were glowing faintly, bathed in moonlight filtering through the clouds.

  The ravine was gone and the road continued along the floor of a narrow valley. Sonea moved to Akkarin’s side, and they strode on. As the hours passed, the left-hand wall drew closer, then fell back out of sight again. It returned, and the right-hand wall withdrew. The moon rose higher, then dipped down toward the peaks.

  Much later the road started to twist and turn. It began to follow the curve of a rocky slope. The higher they climbed, the steeper the slope became, and soon they were walking with a cliff wall on one side and a precipice on the other. Still they strode onward.

  Then she heard a faint noise ahead and Akkarin stopped. The sound came again.

  A sneeze.

  They crept forward to the next turn in the road. Akkarin reached out and squeezed her hand.

  —That must be Riko, Akkarin sent.

  In the faint moonlight, Sonea made out the dark shape of a man sitting on a rock beside the road. She could hear him shivering. As he rubbed his arms, something glinted on his finger. A blood ring, she guessed.

  —Parika probably took his outer clothing from him to ensure he stayed awake, Akkarin added.

  —This makes things difficult, Sonea replied. How are we going to get past the slave as well as his master? Do we trick both of them?

  —Yes and no. The slave can be our bait. Are you ready?

  —Yes.

  It was not easy forcing herself to step past the turn in the road, knowing that the man would see them. Riko was too wrapped up in his misery to see them at first. Then he looked up, leapt to his feet and fled.

  Akkarin stopped, cursed loudly, then propelled Sonea backward.

  “A slave!” he said, loud enough for Riko to hear. “There must be someone in the Pass. Come on.”

  They ran back down the road. Akkarin slowed and stared up at the rock walls on either side. He pulled Sonea to a halt. She felt the ground shift, then they were rising up in the air.

  The cliff face sped past, then slowed and they moved into a shadow. Sonea felt her feet touch solid rock. The ledge Akkarin had set them upon was barely wide enough for her boots. She leaned back against the wall, her heart hammering.

  A long silence followed in which the only sound was their breathing. Then a figure appeared below, walking cautiously around the turn in the road. It stopped. Akkarin’s hand tightened around hers.

  —He needs a little encouragement, Akkarin observed.

  From the distance came the sound of a rock skittering against the road. The figure took a step forward, then a light blazed into existence, flooding the area. Sonea caught her breath. The man was dressed in a fine coat and his hands glittered with jewels and precious metals.

  —Great, she replied. Now he has only to look up and he’ll see us.

  —He won’t.

  A thin, hunched man shuffled up behind the Ichani.

  “I saw—”

  “I know what you saw. Go back and stay with—”

  The Ichani suddenly broke into a half run. Looking down the road, Sonea saw that a light was visible behind the next turn, several hundred paces down the road. It was fading, as if moving away. She looked at Akkarin, guessing that he was the source of the light. His forehead was creased with a frown of concentration.

  The Ichani hurried on, passed the turn and disappeared. When Sonea looked down again, the slave was gone. Akkarin drew in a deep breath.

  —We haven’t got much time. Let’s hope Riko obeys his master promptly.

  They descended to the road, then hurried on toward the Pass. At every step, Sonea was sure they would catch up with the slave, but it wasn’t until several hundred paces later that they saw the man ahead of them.

  Soon after, they saw a flickering light in the distance. A fire, Sonea saw with relief. She had dreaded that they would discover another Ichani. Riko reached the fire and sat down beside a younger woman.

  Akkarin and Sonea drew closer, keeping to the shadows. The fire lit steep rock walls on either side of the road.

  —We can’t slip past without them noticing, Akkarin sent. Are you ready to run?

  Sonea nodded.

  —As ready as I’m going to get.

  Akkarin did not move, however. She glanced at him, and saw that he was frowning.

  —What is it?

  —I should take the opportunity to divest Parika of his slaves. They will only be used against us later.

  Sonea felt her blood go cold as she realized what he intended to do.

  —But there is no time…

  —Best make it quick, then.

  He let go of her hand and started forward.

  She bit back a protest. Killing the slaves made sense. Their strength would be used to kill Kyralians. Yet it seemed so cruel to kill people who had been victims all their lives. They hadn’t chosen to be Ichani tools.

  The woman was the first to notice Akkarin. She jumped up, then flew backward as a force slammed into her. She landed on the ground and lay still.

  Riko had bolted down the road. As Akkarin broke into a run, Sonea dashed after him. Somewhere behind them, Parika would have seen the attack through the slave’s blood ring. She paused only to look at the woman. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the sky.

  At least it was quick, Sonea thought.

  A light flared above Akkarin’s head and he lengthened his stride. The road twisted about, but sloped downward now. Sonea caught no glimpses of the slave running ahead of them. She could not help hoping he would remain out of sight. Akkarin could not kill someone he could not see.

  Then they heard a scream from the road ahead. Akkarin checked, then ran faster. He drew ahead of Sonea easily, rounding the next corner several strides before she did. As he reached the turn, she saw that the road ahead twisted sharply. It left the confining walls of the Pass, and hugged the steep side of a mountain. Akkarin was standing at the turn, looking over the precipice. She stopped beside him and peered over the edge, but saw only darkness below.

  “He fell?”

  “I think so,” he panted. He looked at the road ahead. It curved along the side of the mountain for several hundred paces before it turned out of sight. “Nowhere…to hide. He was…not that far ahead.” He glanced behind, and his face hardened. “We must…keep going. If Parika follows…we’ll be as exposed.”

  He started forward. They pounded along the road. When they passed the next turn, Sonea’s relief turned to dismay when she saw another long stretch of exposed road. They kept running. Her back prickled, and she resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder.

  Time stretched out as they sprinted on. The road descended steadily. The sense of urgency and fear faded. Weariness grew until it dominated all her thoughts. She healed it away.

  Surely we can stop now, she thought, over and over. Parika wouldn’t follow us into Kyralia, would he?

  But Akkarin continued on.

  How many times can I Heal myself like this? Can I damage my body doing it too often?

  When Akkarin finally slowed to a walk, she let out a great sigh of relief. He chuckled, then put an arm around her shoulder. She looked around and realized they were walking between trees. The moon was gone. Akkarin reduced his globe light to a faint glow. They walked for another long hour or more, then Akkarin steered her off the road.

  “I think we’ve come far enough,” he murmured.

  “What if he follows us?”

  “He won’t. He won’t enter Kyralia until Kariko does.”

&n
bsp; She felt soft, uneven ground beneath her feet. They walked for several minutes, then Akkarin stopped and sat down, his back to a tree. Sonea collapsed beside him.

  “What now?” she asked, staring at the trees around them.

  Akkarin pulled her close to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Sleep, Sonea,” he whispered. “I will watch. We’ll decide what to do next tomorrow.”

  27

  A Surprise Meeting

  No. It’s too soon to wake up, Sonea thought. I’m still too tired.

  But a growing feeling of unease would not let her slip back into sleep. Her back leaned against something warm; she was sitting mostly upright. She drew in a deep breath and felt the weight of arms around her. Akkarin’s arms. She smiled, then opened her eyes.

  Four slim, hair-covered legs stood before her. Horse’s legs. Her heart skipped a beat and she looked up.

  Familiar blue eyes stared back at her. Green robes, half-covered by a heavy black cloak, shone in the late morning sunlight. She felt her heart fill with joy and relief.

  “Dorrien!” she gasped. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

  His expression was cold, however. The horse shifted its feet and shook its head. Sonea heard the snort of another nearby. She looked to one side and saw that four more riders waited several strides away, dressed in plain clothes.

  Akkarin stirred, then drew in a deep breath.

  “What are you doing here?” Dorrien demanded.

  “I…we…” Sonea shook her head. “I don’t know where to start, Dorrien.”

  “We are here to warn you,” Akkarin replied. She felt the vibration of his voice against her back. “The Ichani plan to enter Kyralia in the next few days.”

  His hands caught her shoulders and pushed her gently forward. She rose and stepped aside as he climbed to his feet.

  “You are exiles,” Dorrien’s voice was low. “You cannot return to this land.”

  Akkarin’s eyebrows rose. “Cannot?” he asked, straightening and crossing his arms.

  “Do you intend to fight me?” Dorrien asked, his eyes glittering dangerously.

  “No,” Akkarin replied. “I intend to help you.”

  Dorrien’s eyes narrowed. “We do not require your help,” he snapped. “We require your absence.”

  Sonea stared at Dorrien. She had never seen him like this, so cold and full of hatred. He sounded like a stranger. A foolish, angry stranger.

  Then she remembered how passionate he was about caring for the people in his village. He would risk everything to protect them. And if he still regarded her as he once had, finding her sleeping in Akkarin’s arms would not put him in the best of moods…

  “Dorrien,” she said. “We would not have come back if we hadn’t felt we must.”

  Dorrien glanced at her and scowled. “Whether you must return or not is for the Guild to judge. I have been ordered to watch the road and turn you back if you try to return,” he said. “If you intend to remain, you will have to kill me first.”

  Sonea’s heart skipped a beat. A memory of the dead slave flashed though her mind. Surely Akkarin wouldn’t…

  “I don’t have to kill you,” Akkarin replied.

  Dorrien’s eyes were like two chips of ice. He opened his mouth to speak.

  “We’ll go back,” Sonea said quickly. “But at least let us deliver our news first.” She laid a hand on Akkarin’s arm.

  —He’s thinking with his heart. If we give him time to think this over, he may be more reasonable.

  Akkarin frowned at her, but did not argue. She turned back to find Dorrien regarding her closely.

  “Very well,” he said with obvious reluctance. “Tell me your news.”

  “You’re watching the pass, so no doubt Lorlen has informed you of the threat from Sachaka. Yesterday morning, Sonea and I narrowly avoided capture by an Ichani named Parika,” Akkarin said. “From his conversation with his slave, we learned that Kariko and his allies plan to enter Kyralia in the next few days. Sonea and I intended to stay in Sachaka until the Guild satisfied itself that the Ichani were real and a threat, but time is running out. If the Guild want us to return and assist in the coming battle, we must be close enough to Imardin to reach it before the Ichani do.”

  Dorrien regarded Akkarin impassively. “Is that all?”

  Sonea opened her mouth to tell him about the Ichani in the South Pass, but then she pictured Dorrien riding up into the mountains to investigate for himself. The Ichani would kill him. She choked back the words.

  “At least let us rest here for today,” she pleaded. “We are exhausted.”

  Dorrien’s eyes slid to Akkarin and narrowed, then he glanced over his shoulder at the other riders.

  “Gaden. Forren. Might the Guild loan your horses for a day?”

  Sonea peered over the flank of Dorrien’s horse at the men. They exchanged glances, then two began to dismount.

  “I have no authority to grant you a day or even an hour in Kyralia,” Dorrien said stiffly, as the men led their horses forward. “I will escort you to the Pass.”

  Akkarin eyes burned dangerously. Sonea felt him tense. She tightened her grip on his arm.

  —No! Let me talk to him on the way. He will listen to me.

  He turned to regard her, his expression skeptical. Sonea felt her face warm.

  —We were almost intimate once. I think he is angry because you took me away.

  Akkarin’s eyebrows rose. He regarded Dorrien appraisingly.

  —Really? Then see what you can do. Just don’t take too long.

  As one of the men drew near, Akkarin stepped forward and took the offered reins. The man shrank away, glancing nervously up at Dorrien. The young magician said nothing as Akkarin swung up into the saddle. Sonea approached the other horse and managed to haul herself up onto its back. Akkarin turned back to regard Dorrien.

  “After you,” the Healer said.

  Sonea’s horse followed as Akkarin turned his mount and urged it toward the road. They travelled single file, making private conversation impossible. All the way through the forest she could feel Dorrien’s eyes on her back.

  When they reached the road, Sonea pulled back on the reins so that her horse slowed. When it was walking beside Dorrien’s, she glanced at the Healer, but suddenly could not think of what she should say. It would be so easy to anger him further.

  She thought back to the days she had spent with him in the Guild. It seemed a long time ago. Had he hoped he would regain her interest one day? Though she had made no promises, she felt a pang of guilt. Her heart was Akkarin’s. She had never felt this strongly about Dorrien.

  “I did not believe Rothen when he first told me,” Dorrien murmured.

  Sonea turned to look at him, surprised that he had broken the silence.

  He was watching Akkarin. “I still can’t.” His eyebrows knit together. “Once he told me Akkarin’s reasons for taking your guardianship from him, I understood why you put a distance between us. You thought I might see how unhappy you were and start to ask questions.” He looked at her. “That was it, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “What happened? When did he turn you away from us?”

  She felt another pang of guilt. “About…two months ago he asked me to come with him into the city. I didn’t want to go, but I thought I might learn something that the Guild could use against him. He took me to see a man—a Sachakan man—and taught me how to read the man’s mind. What I saw in it could only be the truth.”

  “Are you sure? If the man believed things that were wrong, you—”

  “I am no fool, Dorrien.” She held his gaze. “That man’s memories could not have been false.”

  He frowned. “Go on.”

  “Once I knew about these Ichani, and that their leader only needed to prove that the Guild was weak to gather enough allies to invade, I couldn’t stand by and let Akkarin do all the work. I asked—no, I insisted—that he let me join him.”
br />   “But…black magic, Sonea. How could you learn such things?”

  “It was not an easy choice. I knew it was a terrible responsibility, and a great risk. But if the Ichani attacked, the Guild would be destroyed. I’d probably die anyway.”

  Dorrien’s nose wrinkled as if he had smelled something foul. “But it is evil.”

  She shook her head. “The early Guild didn’t think so. I’m not sure I do either. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want the Guild to begin using it again. If I imagine Fergun or Regin wielding that kind of power…” she shuddered. “Not a good idea.”

  “But you consider yourself worthy?”

  She frowned. The question still bothered her. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  “You admitted to using it to kill.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “Do you believe I’d do something like that just for the sake of making myself stronger? Or do you think I had a good reason?”

  He looked away, at Akkarin. “I don’t know.”

  She followed his gaze. Akkarin’s horse walked about twenty paces ahead.

  “But you think Akkarin would kill for power, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Dorrien admitted. “He admitted that he has killed many times before.”

  “If he hadn’t, he’d still be a slave in Sachaka—or dead—and the Guild would have been attacked and destroyed years ago.”

  “If he speaks the truth.”

  “He does.”

  Dorrien shook his head and looked away into the forest.

  “Dorrien, you must tell the Guild that the Ichani are coming,” she urged. “And…let us remain this side of the mountains. The Ichani know we came through last night. If we go back, we will be killed.”

  He turned to stare at her, his expression wavering between alarm and disbelief.

  Then a figure stepped out onto the road in front of them.

  Sonea reacted instinctively, but the shield she threw around herself and Dorrien crumpled before a powerful forcestrike. She felt herself thrown backward, then the ground knocked the air from her lungs. She heard Dorrien curse nearby, then hooves thundered around her head and she threw up another shield. A shrill whinny was followed by the rapid beat of receding hoof beats as the horses fled.