Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) (16 page)

Nirel’s voice was carefully flat. “Yeah. We met at a ball in the autumn. It’s pretty serious. He’s talked about having his father arrange a betrothal.”

“Oh.” Josiah tightened his fingers in Sar’s mane. “Congratulations.”

Nirel stepped between him and the patient so he was forced to look at her. “It never would have worked out between you and me, Josiah.” She gave him a crooked smile. “Can we forget about it and be friends?”

Josiah wasn’t going to forget the kiss they’d shared, but it looked like that didn’t matter. “Sure.” He forced a smile. “Friends.”

“And Vigorre, too. You’ll like him.”

Josiah felt distinctly less warm toward the young Keeper than he had earlier, but he shrugged. “I guess.”

“Great.” Nirel jerked her head toward the girl and her mother. “She’s got her settled down. I’ll let you work and get back to the line.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Josiah headed toward the cot.
Come on, Sar.
He grinned at the girl, although the expression made his face feel like it might crack.
What do you think? I’m guessing it’s an ear infection.

We’ll see soon enough.
Sar sent golden light pouring over the girl. Her face screwed up, but as she became aware of the pleasant sensation of the healing she blinked, gave the donkey a puzzled look, and broke into a hesitant smile.

Josiah snuck a glance at Nirel. She’d stopped before reaching the waiting patients and was staring back at him with a deep, troubled frown.

No, not at him. At the golden light spilling from his hands.

Nine

V
igorre glanced at the sun descending toward the peaks of the mountains west of Ramunna. As Elkan pulled away from his latest patient and rubbed his forehead wearily, Vigorre approached him. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to leave soon. It’s getting late, and my family’s expecting me for the evening meal.”

The wizard echoed his glance at the sun, looked at the still extensive lines of people waiting, and sighed. “I suppose we’re going to have to call it a day before long. Although I hate to send people away when they’ve waited so many hours. They’ll have to stand in line all over again tomorrow.”

Vigorre frowned at the weary crowds. “We could give them numbers, like merchants do when the market’s busy. Then these can go to the front of the line in the morning.”

Elkan looked puzzled for a moment, then brightened. “An excellent idea. I’ll speak to the guards and have someone fetch paper and pens from the palace. Tobi needs a break, anyway.”

He caressed the huge cat’s head. She butted his chest and padded to the water bucket, the strain of the day’s work showing in her heavy step and drooping tail.

Vigorre swallowed and looked away. A demon. That’s what the beast was. Its sleek fur, eagerly pricked ears, and warm, intelligent eyes were a disguise, designed to fool the ignorant into complacency. Those eyes could glow red if the demon’s true purpose was threatened. The affectionate companionability both she and her human slave feigned would vanish when they were no longer observed by outsiders. It was a lie, a trick, a deception by the Lord of Demons. He couldn’t allow it to take him in.

Joyful exclamations drew his eyes to Elkan and Tobi’s most recent patient. The woman embraced her husband and displayed the smooth new skin where a few minutes ago an oozing red rash had covered her cheeks and neck. She’d tried to hide the discomfort it caused her, but it had shown in her tight lips and tense hands as Vigorre had talked with her about what to expect and led her to the cot. Now her pain was gone.

Elkan was watching him when he turned back. The wizard gave him an understanding smile. “Will you be back tomorrow? You’ve been a tremendous help. I think you find the work as rewarding as I do.”

He should go to Yoran Lirolla tonight and demand to be released from this assignment. The Purifier leader would have to find someone else to befriend the wizards, spy on them, betray them. Vigorre was the wrong person for the job.

Because, dear Mother, yes, he found the work rewarding. He’d never in his life been so tired in every muscle and bone, or so deeply satisfied. Hundreds of people had walked away relieved of their burdens of pain and weakness and fear, dozens more than the wizards would have been able to help without Vigorre’s aid. The healing
was
real. Whatever evil purpose underlay the wizards’ actions, today they had done a tremendous amount of good. The helpless frustration he’d felt on every previous visit to the Beggars’ Quarter was gone, swept away by the satisfaction of being able to
do
something.

A few more days like this and he’d be begging the demons to possess him.

He swallowed. “I’ll have to ask my father. I’ve got duties at the Temple I’m missing. But he’ll excuse me if I insist.”

Elkan nodded slowly. “I hope you do. Let’s explain your idea to the guards. Then, if you’ve got a moment, I’d like to have a few words with you before you leave.”

“All right.” Vigorre followed him to the guards’ station. It didn’t take long to convey what they wanted. One guard was dispatched to the palace, while others started down the line, explaining what would be done.

Vigorre hoped Elkan would forget his desire to speak further, but no such luck. Despite his pointed looks back toward the cot and the line of patients, and comments about how hungry he was and how his stepmother hated him to be late, Elkan headed toward a quiet spot near where the familiars were eating again.

“I won’t keep you long,” the wizard promised. His voice was quiet but urgent. “I just wanted to let you know that we haven’t come solely to treat the Matriarch. On the surface that’s what brought us here, but now I understand the Mother’s real purpose. Ramunna needs its own Wizards’ Guild. I’m sure the same is true of Marvanna and Giroda and every other part of Ravanetha, but it starts here.” He cast a bleak look at the unserved multitudes. “This is wrong. We’ve never had enough wizards to meet every need in Tevenar, but it’s so much worse here. We must begin to redress that inequality. Tevenar will suffer for it, because there’s a limit to the number of familiars the Mother can touch without disrupting the balance of the world. But that can’t be helped.”

Could the demons read his thoughts? What Elkan was saying so closely reflected what Vigorre felt it was uncanny. It must be a ploy designed to tempt him. He longed to turn his back and walk away, shutting out the wizard’s seductive words.

But to do that would be to disobey Keeper Yoran’s orders and break his new-sworn vow. So he nodded and kept listening, fighting not to let his heart be swayed.

“The Mother intends to choose new wizards from among the people of Ramunna. It’s already begun, although I’m not free to speak of the details. In Tevenar she calls young people at the traditional age of apprenticeship. But there’s precedent for her granting her power to those who are older. The Histories tell us that the first wizards were all adults when their familiars came to them. Gurion himself was a grandfather already.”

Elkan used the ancient Marvannan pronunciation of the name, but Vigorre still felt as if lightning had struck him. “Who?”

Elkan blinked at the vehemence in his voice. “Gurion Thricebound, the founder of the Wizards’ Guild. His surname was Elero before he helped institute the system of guildnames we use now. Gevan tells me he’s revered as a prophet here.”

“Guron Erlorre. The father of the holy Yashonna.” Vigorre’s hands balled into fists.

“That’s right. He was the first bonded wizard. After the ancient wizards’ powers were lost, they faced circumstances even worse than what we’ve dealt with today.” Elkan grimaced. “Gurion begged the Mother to return her power to the world. He nearly sacrificed his life to compel her to listen to him. Together he and the Mother came up with the idea of tying power to animals in order to prevent people from misusing her power. She touched a rat to create the first familiar and bound him to Gurion.”

“A rat,” Vigorre echoed. Anger displaced his initial numb horror. How dare this foreigner slander the sacred prophet? He was more honored by the Temple than any save the Mother herself. It sickened Vigorre to hear his name linked to this whitewashed version of the demon’s origins. Diabolically clever indeed, to appropriate Guron’s name and reputation to lend themselves an air of legitimacy.

Elkan laughed. “Even today she asks us to humble ourselves beneath our familiars, but few of us are required to be quite so humble as that.” He reached into a pocket in his tunic and drew out a slim, well-worn volume. “This is my copy of the Law. Gurion wrote it, with the Mother’s inspiration. Would you like to borrow it? I can bring the first History tomorrow, if you’d like; he wrote that as well. I think you might find them interesting.”

Vigorre could hardly bear the thought of touching the demons’ foul document, but he forced himself to take the book when Elkan held it out. Keeper Yoran would be elated to get it. They could learn about the demons and their slaves. It might even reveal vulnerabilities they could exploit to defeat them. “Thank you,” he choked out. “Yes, please bring the other one tomorrow.”

“Good. The Law is rather dry if you’re not a wizard, but the first History is fascinating for anyone. It goes into a lot more detail than I have time to tell you about the founding of Tevenar and the Wizards’ Guild.” He chuckled. “Even Josiah got through it in less than a month. If you’re familiar with the language of ancient Miarban it should only take you a day or two.” He sobered, and nodded at the book in Vigorre’s hands. “But read this first, and think about what it says. Consider whether you’d be able to live under its restrictions.”

He hesitated, then went on. “I know our acquaintance is short, but you strike me as someone with a wizard’s heart. The way you care for people, your passion to serve them, the way you show them respect and compassion, your fire for justice…” He met Vigorre’s eyes. “The Mother needs people like you to serve her as wizards in Ramunna. It’s not my decision, only hers, but I don’t think she could do much better. Think about whether it’s something you would want. That way, if she offers you the choice, you’ll be prepared to make it.”

Vigorre should have guessed where Elkan was headed, but he hadn’t. The blatant offer shocked him. Yoran had warned him the demons would try to tempt him with their power, but he’d never expected the offer to come so quickly and openly. A cold wave swept from his scalp to his toes.

He dropped his gaze and gripped the book so hard his fingers hurt. “I’ll… do that.”

“Good.” Elkan took a deep, relieved breath and waved him toward the entrance. “You’d better head home now. Don’t want to keep your family waiting.”

“No.” Vigorre forced himself not to break into a run as Elkan accompanied him across the space and past the guards. “Um, good-night.”

“Good-night. See you tomorrow?” Elkan’s manner was casual and pleasant, but there was a touch of tension in the words.

Vigorre gulped. “Tomorrow.” He stretched his lips into a smile he hoped didn’t look as horribly fake as it felt. “Bright and early.”

Elkan’s smile was unmistakably genuine. “Till then.”

Vigorre jerked a nod and made his escape. He kept his pace to a brisk stride until he rounded a corner and buildings blocked him from the wizard’s sight. Then he ran as if the demons of a thousand nightmares were pursuing him.

A block from home he dropped to an exhausted walk and struggled to slow his heaving breaths. He was safe. Even tomorrow when he would have to return to the Beggars’ Quarter and the demons’ cursed corner, he need not fear. Keeper Yoran had promised the demons couldn’t possess him against his will.

Dear Mother, he hadn’t known his will was so weak. Half of him wished he were free to throw Elkan’s book in the fire, but the other half longed to scour its pages, searching for evidence that the wizard spoke the truth. If only the Purifiers were wrong, and the lovely, magical, healing light really did come from the Mother.

But that was impossible. Nirel’s experience proved it. He’d have to believe she’d either seriously misunderstood what she’d seen, or had made up the whole account. And neither of those things could be true. The events she’d described to him couldn’t possibly be interpreted any other way. And what reason could she have to lie to him?

Why had she come to the square today? She’d been so adamant that the wizards must never learn of her presence in Ramunna. What had made her throw away the secrecy that kept her safe? He’d meant to speak with her once they were away from the wizards, but Elkan’s offer had thrown him so badly he’d forgotten about her.

He couldn’t leave her to walk back to her village alone. Nathenarre would be annoyed with him for delaying, but he’d dealt with her displeasure before.

Instead of turning onto the short street lined with enormous, elegant houses and entering the largest, most imposing of them as he usually did, he took the alley that led to the carriage house in the rear. Servants hitched his favorite horse to the two-seater, and he drove it back downhill.

He intercepted Nirel several blocks from the Beggars’ Quarter, trudging wearily toward the market. He pulled up beside her. “Care for a ride, lovely lady?”

She looked up with an annoyed expression. It transformed when she recognized him, but not to the pleased welcome he’d usually expect. Was it fear that briefly flashed in her eyes before she rearranged her features into a rueful grin? “If you’re going my way,” she said, as she accepted his extended hand and clambered to the seat beside him.

“I’d go far out of my way for you,” he said as he flicked the horse into motion. After he maneuvered back into the flow of traffic he dropped the banter. “Nirel, are you all right? Why in the Mother’s name did you show yourself to the wizards?” He voiced the suspicion that had been gnawing on him all day. “Did Ozor make you?”

She shrugged and looked away. “I tried to argue him out of it, but he insisted. He said they wouldn’t dare do anything to me with people watching. With this new moneymaking scheme of his, he knew they’d find out about us sooner or later. He wanted me to get them to declare in front of everyone that they’d leave us alone.” She turned back to him with a wry grin. “And it worked. Thank you for defending me—it pushed Elkan into saying exactly what we needed him to. Now that they’ve pretended to welcome me, they can’t contradict themselves and let people know they’re really our enemies without destroying their disguise.”