Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2)
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“She’s right,” Rian murmurs between kisses. “How could Eron threaten you with treason? It would be treason to ignore the King’s orders. He’s got to see that.”

“He’s angry that I bested him during the spar at Mare’s Head.” I snuggle into him, and he tightens his arms around me.

“What made you lose your head?” Rian asks me. “Bryse said you were half-wild.” I consider telling him what the prince said and what he did, but I know it will only make him angry. He’ll insist I tell the others, and I really just want to put the whole thing behind me. Tomorrow, we’ll part ways with the royal party. I won’t have to see Eron again for a while, hopefully.

“Nothing.” I lie.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Flitt says. “He was being his usual creepy self. And the other ones, the lords, they thought it was funny. Azi was just defending herself.”

“Flitt…” I try to stop her, but Rian won’t let me. She tells him everything. I didn’t realize she’d seen so much. When she’s finished, Rian’s jaw is clenched so hard I fear he’ll crack his teeth.

“You need to tell someone,” he says. “Your father.”

“My father?” I scoff. “Can you imagine? No, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“So, you’re going to just let everyone think you lost your head and attacked the prince for no good reason?” Rian asks angrily. “It wasn’t your fault, Azi. If I was there, I’d have…”

“Stop,” I say. “You weren’t there. I’m glad you weren’t.” I push away from him and get up. “I can take care of myself, and now that Eron knows it he’s trying to find other ways to intimidate me. I won’t play into it. We’ll go get Ki, we’ll bring her to Cerion. Like I said before, if there are consequences for that, I’ll face them when the time comes.”

Rian doesn’t say a word. He simply shakes his head and drums his fingers on the arm of his chair. Little sparks of magic pop and fizzle where his fingertips meet the fabric. He’s losing control, probably because he’s so tired. I lean down and kiss him softly.

“Go to bed,” I say. “We have to be downstairs early tomorrow.”

On the way back to my room, I pass by my parents’ quarters. The door is closed, and inside I can hear raised voices. Not just Mum and Da’s, but Mya’s and Bryse’s, too. Part of me wants to listen in, and another part already knows why they’re fighting. It’s about me, I’m sure, and my inappropriate behavior these past two days. Cursing in front of the prince, fighting with the prince, being short and disrespectful with more than one member of the Elite, slowing the procession with my absentmindedness… No, I don’t have to listen in. I already know the trouble I’m facing.

I’m not wrong, either. In the morning Mum and Da meet me at my door. Mum takes my hand and we walk in silence. Da is just as quiet. When we arrive at the guild meeting, Mya is already there. Elliot sits beside her, and Rian beside him. The mood is somber, even after Bryse and Cort come in laughing together and start filling their plates with breakfast. At the end of the table, Donal and Dacva are bent together praying. I take a seat between Mum and Da. With everyone assembled, Rian places the wards on the doors.

The table is set with an amazing breakfast spread, but my stomach feels like I’ve swallowed a lead ball. I put a few things on my plate but don’t touch them. When Mya rises to speak, I can’t seem to meet her eyes.

“Firstly, congratulations to everyone on a successful journey. We’ve seen His Highness and Her Highness safely to Kordelya, which was our first mission. Well done.”

“Well done,” everyone agrees in unison. Bryse and Cort, as always, are raucous in their reply, but the rest of us are more subdued.

“And now, as was planned, we will return to Valleyside while Rian and Azaeli journey to Kythshire. We’ll await them there and ride back to Cerion together when their task is done. Are we agreed?”

“Agreed,” we all say together.

“First, though, there is a small matter.” I feel her eyes on me, but I still can’t look up. “Azi, stand please.”

I do, but my knees are shaky with nerves. I put a hand on Da’s shoulder to steady myself, and a glance at both him and Mum shows them masking their frowns. Across the table, Rian’s jaw is clenched again. He catches my eye and his gaze gives me strength.

“Azi,” Mya sighs. “Your actions lately have cast a shadow on us all. You’ve acted in a way that’s unbecoming of a guild of our station.” She lists the same transgressions I’m already aware of and she tells me what I already know, that my behavior was unacceptable for a knight, and for the standards of the Elite. I stare at the table in front of me. “If you aren’t able to check yourself, Azi, and if you continue to allow yourself to lose control, you’ll be stripped of blue and gold and cast from the guild. Do you understand?”

I nod as I feel the blood drain from my face and my fingertips go numb on my father’s shoulder. On the other side of Da, Bryse is protesting loudly but I can’t make out what he’s saying. My ears are ringing. Never would I have imagined I’d be facing disbandment from the guild. Never in all of my life.


Tell them,
” Rian pushes to me.
“Tell them why. If you don’t, I will.”
My eyes snap to his again and I shake my head slightly. He waits for a moment and then he gets to his feet. He tells them everything. Not just what happened in the courtyard, but before that, too. How Eron is always eyeing me with that hunger, and how he made advances at me in the palace just before the King’s Quest last Highsummer. By the time he’s finished, you could hear a cricket sneeze, as Flitt would say. Then the room erupts into chaos.

Da is on his feet and halfway to the door before Mum can stop him. I feel her wave of peace strike me full on in an attempt to calm Bryse who reaches it first and nearly rips the door right off its hinge.

“I told you,” Elliot is saying to Mya from beneath his foxlike-fringe of orange hair as he tips his chair back on two legs. “I knew she had to have a good reason.”

“He put his hands on her?” Bryse seethes. Mum’s peace is doing little to placate him, but it seems to have calmed Da enough for him to see some sense. He’s holding Bryse back, hanging on one of his arms with both hands while Cort has the other. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Rip his hands right off, I will.”

“Bryse!” Mum cries as she slams the door closed again. Rian is right behind her to set the ward again. “Enough! Someone will hear.” We all stand holding our breaths while Bryse works to calm himself. The giant’s temper is useful on a battlefield, but not so welcome when you’re meant to behave as an honored guest in the home of a Baron.

“So what, we’re not going to do anything? You heard Rian! You heard what he said!” Bryse growls in frustration. He picks up a statuette from a nearby table and rips off its head. “Azi, I swear, if you’da told me why you went after him that way, I’da let you finish what you started.”

I nod slowly. I’ve seen Bryse’s fury before, but this time it’s different. This time it’s in defense of me, of my honor. It’s very touching. He’s always been protective of me, much like a second father in many ways. Still, I never expected a reaction like this. Beside him, despite Mum’s efforts, Da’s own rage seems to be building again.

“With that considered,” Mya keeps her tone soothing and gestures to the vacated chairs, “Azi, your actions were mostly justified. Gentlemen, please. Sit.” Her voice blends well with Mum’s peace, so much so that Da and Bryse manage to calm themselves enough to return to the table. “But I hope that next time, you’ll come to one of us so we’re aware of any…”

“Assaults,” Bryse spits out.

“Assaults, yes,” Mya says with a sigh. She looks around at everyone to make certain they’re suitably in order before continuing. “Moving on,” she starts, but Da interrupts.

“That’s it? Moving on?” he says angrily. I’m shocked by his tone. He barely ever raises his voice to Mya this way.

“Yeah, what?” Bryse growls. “Just because he’s a prince, we’re going to let him do that to our Azi? No. What are we going to do about it?”

Mya sits back and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath, and when she opens them again, they meet across the table with my mother’s. They exchange a knowing glance before she looks away again.

“What do you propose?” Mya asks, and glances from the door to Rian, who nods to assure her that whatever she says will remain in this room. Still, she lowers her voice. “Eron is a lecher. Azi is not the only member of this guild he’s made advances on. But all of us,” she looks at my mother again, “are strong. And after Mare’s Head, Eron knows that he’s met his match in Azi as well. I’m ending the discussion there. Someday, if fate is just, he’ll get his due. It’s not our place to dish it. Are we in agreement?”

Elliot snores softly beside her as Cort shakes his head in disbelief to his left. Bryse and Da are both staring, slack-jawed, at Mum. Brother Donal’s eyes are closed, his lips moving in silent prayer. Beside him Dacva is staring at Mya with a mix of respect and disbelief. Rian’s eyes are locked on her as well. Honestly, I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard that Eron had laid his hands on every woman in the country. I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. It may not be our place to dish it, but I certainly hope I’m there when it finally comes back to him.

“Are we in agreement?” Mya asks again, more firmly.

“Aye,” everyone says in unison.

After the meeting each of us is eager to ride and put as much distance between ourselves and the prince as we can for as long as we can. Flitt is eager as well. She clings to the edge of the pauldron on my right shoulder as I jog down the stairs. The horses are already packed and waiting as we leave the keep, and I start to rush to Pearl when Rian takes my arm.

“Look,” he says. “There are too many horses.” I count them. He’s right. There are nine of us and ten steeds.

“Excellent,” the prince calls out from behind us. The others turn and bend a knee and Rian and I exchange glances before we do the same. Eron stands at the top of the staircase, gazing down over us. Beside him, Princess Amei looks radiant in deep purple gowns that set off her burnished brown skin perfectly. Eron’s lips curl into something between a smile and a sneer. “Sir Hammerfel,” he casts his eyes on me and a shadow from behind me creeps across as Bryse comes to tower over us both. “I’ve gifted you one of my best to accompany you on your journey. I’ve given him orders to report to me if anything goes awry,” he eyes the others. “Should you need any assistance, of course.” He snaps his fingers and a guard in a barrel helm steps forward from the shadows of the keep door.

“Of course,” I say. “Thank you, Highness.”

“May you find what you seek,” he says to us. “And may you have a safe journey.”

I glance at the guard. His helm covers most of his face, but dark curls peek out from beneath it and I have a good idea of who it might be. Flitt’s warning from the night before causes the hair on the back of my neck to prickle.
Are you sure he’s who he says he is?
Jac’s dark eyes glint in my direction and I turn to Rian and take his arm. In the meeting, everyone agreed it would be best to go on with our plan. Rian and I would ignore the prince’s threats and return to Cerion with Ki.

“This complicates things,”
he pushes to me, and I give a slight nod in response as Amei steps down to thank us for our service and say her farewells.
 

Chapter Thirteen: Journeys Ended and Begun

Tib

 

We fight the wind all the way home from the palace. It bites us and tears at our cloaks. I have a new one now. Deep brown, like Mevyn’s. Lined with fur. Still, it’s not warm enough against this awful wind. We stumble inside together and Saesa takes a deep breath through her nose.

“Stag stew,” she sighs with a smile. “I’m starved. We’re home!” she calls to no one in particular, and Nessa is the first to appear from the sitting room. My muscles ache. I’m so tired. I could go back to bed and sleep for a week. I should find Mevyn, I think. Tell him that the princess will help us.

“How was the princess?” Nessa asks as she hugs Saesa, then me.

“Good,” Saesa says. “I’m hungry now.”

“Me too,” I say. “Tired, though.” I lean back against the door. Saesa reaches to steady me.

“You see? You ought to have waited. Poor Tib.” Nessa slips an arm around my shoulders. “Go to bed. I’ll send up a tray.”

“But we have to tell you,” Saesa starts, but Nessa holds up one hand.

“Plenty of excitement for today, Saesa,” she says. “Whatever you have to tell me can wait.”

“But you always say to tell you when it’s fresh. So we don’t forget.” Saesa starts to follow us as Nessa guides me gently up the stairs.

“Tomorrow,” Nessa says. “It can wait.”

She leaves me alone in my room to undress. I don’t, though. I’m too tired. I just take off my jacket and my ruffled shirt and sit on the bed. I think about taking my boots off this once, but decide not to. They’re dry enough now. I stomped them out good on the mat.

“What did the princess say?” Mevyn’s voice startles me. I can’t see him, but he speaks aloud, not in my head this time. I lean back against my pillows. Pull the warm blankets up to my chin. “May I look?”

“What do you mean?” I murmur sleepily. I sit up straighter. Try to stay awake. Supper is coming.

“Into your memories,” he explains. “You’ve let me before. Remember?”

He floats in front of me. I can see him now. I look into his eyes. See flashes of the past. He’s right. I’ve shown him before. He saw lots of things. Where I lived, how I worked. My family. The moment Viala rode away with the Sorcerer. The night we were taken. It didn’t hurt, I remember, when he looked. It felt nice. Like a connection. Like friendship.

“Okay,” I agree. I get comfortable against the pillows and he gazes at me. Watches us playing with the princess. Sees the plan she’s woven for us. When he’s through and he breaks the connection, I’m disappointed. A little sad. But then Nessa comes with stew and hot bread with gobs of melted butter, and Mevyn fades away before she sees him.

Saesa is in my room the next morning before the sun comes up. She sits across from me on the bed and we whisper plans. She thinks we need to pack all sorts of things, but Mevyn tells me secretly not to worry about that. I try to explain to her why, but she doesn’t know about Mevyn. He made her forget. It complicates things. I want to ask him to make her remember, but he’s supposed to be secret. How can I ask him while she’s here?

“Not yet.”

Fine, not yet. Maybe later. When we’re on the road.

“Will Nessa let you come?” I ask her.

“Sure.” Saesa says brightly. “We can leave anytime. She tells us often. This is our home and we’re always welcome, but we’re free to go, too. She just likes taking care of us, and honestly, why would we want to go anywhere else? You see how it is here.”

“Yeah,” I say. She’s right. If I didn’t have to go with Mevyn, I’d want to stay.

Downstairs, someone knocks on the door.

“That’ll be the page, maybe!” Saesa says excitedly.

“This early?” I ask.

“Well,” says Saesa, “Her Highness might have sent one to check before she sends everyone else. Remember? She said we could send them away if we don’t need them after all.”

“We didn’t tell Nessa yet, though.”

“I know!” Saesa says. She jumps from the bed and runs downstairs. I go a little more slowly. I’m still a bit weak. Others in the house start to stir. It’s unusual for anyone to knock this early in the morning. Even a page.

“I’ll answer,” Nessa calls. She looks different in her night gown, not all done up. Younger. Her brown curls bounce lightly on her back as she rushes down the stairs, tying her robe. Raefe goes down with her. Lilen and Emme and Ruben join me at the railing. Mevyn is here, too. Watching. I can feel him. Nessa opens the door. A man in uniform stands straight and tall. I’ve seen the uniform before, in a painting of the Admiral that hangs over the fireplace. I wonder if that’s him.

“Dorian!” Nessa cries excitedly. “Come in out of the cold.” She reaches for the man’s arm and pulls him inside. “What word have you? What word?”

“The fleet is a day’s sail behind us,” Dorian says. He brushes the snow from his shoulders. Stomps his boots on the mat. Hands Nessa a stack of letters.

“Who’s that?” I whisper.

“Dorian. Captain of the scout ship,” Lilen says. “The first ship to arrive from the Admiral’s fleet.”

The house erupts into celebration. The Admiral is coming home. There are letters for everyone, even me. I’m surprised by that, until Saesa explains that Nessa writes to her husband every day. The letters talk of faraway places and promise gifts for each of us. The children take turns reading them aloud. Ruben can’t wait to see what a mouth harp is. He hopes it shoots things. Lilen is getting books. She hopes they’re exotic spell books. Saesa is promised a vest of studded leather. Raefe, a new kind of spyglass that has two barrels that can be looked through side by side. I’m getting one of those, too. Nessa does a lot of crying and laughing. Dorian stays for breakfast.

The others go on and on about the journey. They pester Dorian with questions until Nessa tells them to hush and let him eat. Saesa glances at me. Now’s the time to tell her about our plans to leave. I open my mouth to speak, and another knock comes on the door.

“I’ll go,” Maisie hitches Errie up on her hip and rushes out. She comes back with another letter. “For you, Tib.” She sets it on the table beside me. Everyone stops eating and stares. They know I have no one to write me. I’ve told them before that I’m orphaned now.

“It’s from your uncle.”

“It’s from my uncle,” I say as I pick it up and open it. The words written there don’t make sense to me. I never really learned to read. Mevyn helps me. “Dear Tib,” I repeat after the words that echo in my head, “I’m delighted to hear that you are in Cerion. A visit would be most welcome. I’m sending an escort to accompany you to Ceras’lain. They should arrive shortly after you receive this letter. Please offer your hostess my sincerest thanks for keeping you warm and safe. I look forward to seeing you. Yours, Uncle Filbery.”

“You have an uncle, and he’s an elf?” Ruben asks.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ruben,” Lilen says. “Of course he isn’t.”

“He studies with them.”

“I do. I wrote him when I got here. He studies with them,” I say, my mouth going dry. I hate lying to them. “The elves.”

“I’d like to go with Tib,” Saesa says. “Do you think I could, Tib?”

“Sure,” I say. “Uncle’s got lots of room.”

“So he’s a Mage, then?” Lilen asks, a little skeptically.

“A cartographer.”

“He makes maps,” I explain. “He’s mapping the roads there.”

“Don’t elaborate.”

Right. Don’t elaborate.

“Saesa, you won’t be here when Gaga comes?” Emme looks at her sadly.

“I’ll see him when we get back,” she says. “Just think, Emme, what an adventure! To go to Ceras’lain and see the elves!” On the other side of her, Raefe scowls.

“I don’t like it,” he says. “We don’t know this uncle of his. He could be anyone.”

“Of course you don’t like it,” Saesa frowns. She stabs a piece of potato with her knife. “You never let me do anything, Raefe.”

“Your brother is only looking out for you, Saesa. Why don’t you go with them, Raefe? Between you and the escort, you’ll certainly be safe. It could be your coming-of-age tour. You’ve always talked about Ceras’lain.”

Saesa and I exchange glances. She presses her lips together. Her nostrils flare out. She doesn’t want him there.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “Raefe can come, too.”

“What was his name again?” Lilen asks.

“Filbery,” I reply after a quick reminder from Mevyn.

“Oh, I know of him. He has several maps archived at the Academy. He’s a fine artist, too. He does all of his drawings himself. I thought he was working in Vermina Isles now, though. Yes, I’m certain of it. He’s quite renowned for his records of the local flora. Why, just last week, he…” Lilen trails off. Her eyelids flutter a little. Beside her, the air shimmers. Unseen by anyone else, Mevyn gazes into her eyes. “Oh wait, no, I’m mistaken,” she says distantly. “That’s Folbury, not Filbery. Never mind.” She tucks back into her porridge. Stays quiet for the rest of the meal.

After breakfast, Saesa pulls me aside while Nessa says her farewells to Captain Dorian.

“Tib,” she whispers. “One problem with your story, and by the way, how’d you do that with the letter?” When I don’t answer right away, she waves her hand dismissively. “Forget it. Anyway, I was saying, the princess is sending a royal escort. A cartographer in Ceras’lain wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“It’s taken care of.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. I’m more concerned that there will be horses involved. I’ve never ridden a horse before. I hope I don’t fall off.

The morning is a blur. Nessa spends it in the drawing room, writing. I’m not sure what. Raefe is packing, too. Maisie and the others are cleaning for the Admiral.

“I wish I could have my vest that Admiral is bringing.” Saesa says in whispers as she sits cross-legged on my bed. “It would be good to have on the journey.”

A knock downstairs has us both jumping up to run and answer the door. Saesa is fastest. She gets there first and throws it open. A man dressed in chain mail with a great sword strapped to his back gives Saesa a friendly nod.

“I’m here for Tib and Saesa?” He peers inside. Nessa rushes out of the drawing room.

“They’re here already?” She looks out into the street, where a carriage is waiting. “You’re not even packed yet!”

“Oh, a carriage!” Saesa cries. “I thought we’d be riding! A carriage, how exciting!”

“I want to go on a carriage,” Ruben whines.

I’m not so excited. The last time, the only time I was on a carriage was when we were stolen in the night by the Sorcerer. I remember the sound of it being crushed and swallowed by the roots of trees. I shiver.

“Come in out of the cold,” Nessa says, but the guard shakes his head.

“We’ll wait out here for their things,” he says. “Take your time, m’lady. No rush.”

Raefe brings a large sack downstairs with him. He says he packed for Saesa, too. I don’t need much. I have my cloak, my boots. My knife, if I need it. We say farewell to Nessa, who gives Raefe a letter of reference.

“This is for Evelei, in Felescue. She’s a friend,” Nessa says, sounding a little hesitant. She smiles at us a sadly. “I do wish I could go with you. What an adventure you’ll have.”

“We’ll come back and tell you all about it!” Saesa cries tearfully as she throws her arms around Nessa.

“Thank you for everything,” I murmur. I don’t want to drag out goodbyes. I just want to go, so I do. I jog down the stairs and climb into the carriage and wait for the other two.

Inside it’s warm. There are bundles on the seats. One for each of us. Even for Raefe. I lift mine onto my lap and open it up. It’s got a leather vest and bracers, a padded shirt, and a bandolier full of throwing knives and tiny, colorful vials filled with powders and liquids.

“Are these from you?” I whisper to Mevyn, who I somehow know is hovering beside me. I take one of the vials. Hold it to the light.

“Yes. Keep them safe. Don’t play with that.”

Saesa climbs in as I’m buckling the bandolier across my chest. Her eyes are still wet. She sees the bundle with her name and pulls it close as she sits beside me.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” I say.

“Don’t be silly. If course I know that. I want to come. I’ve dreamed of leaving Cerion for as long as I can remember.”

“But why?” I can’t imagine. Cerion is a good place. A place you want to stay. It’s safe. Kind. Clean. Peaceful.

“Adventure,” Saesa grins. “It’s boring here. I want to see what’s outside of the gates, Tib! And now we’re going to!” She starts pulling things out of her own pack. Leggings of green leather dotted with brass studs. A sturdy vest of the same. Sleeves and bracers. Leg guards. With each item she pulls out, she gasps. “Where did all this come from? The princess?”

Raefe climbs in before I can answer, and the carriage starts moving. I reach over and pull up the shade so it doesn’t feel so closed. Try not to picture Nan sitting across from me or the terror on Zhilee’s face as we bump along the cobbles. Instead I watch Raefe open his pack.

“I needed one of these…” he murmurs as he pulls out a chain mail shirt. “These, too,” he says in awe as he turns a pair of well-made studded gloves in his hands. “Who are these from?”

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