Down a Lost Road (25 page)

“
How much will you
sacrifice?” she asked. “What will you give? And for what? To save a
broken city? To rescue a shattered people? You just didn’t see it,
and now it’s too late. Nothing is left but to die
gloriously.”

Tamon muttered a curse and turned away in
exasperation. Aniira’s gaze followed him, then flitted from Yatol
to Syarat. Both of them studied her in grave silence, and she
sighed dejectedly.

“
I came for a reason, but
it doesn’t matter now. They didn’t want to let me go, but I
insisted. And I was right! I told them I would get here before any
runner could, and I did.” She turned to Syarat and said, “Zhabyr
calls you back. That’s why I came. Not for my own pleasure. But I
would rather stay than return to Alcalon with your answer. I tell
you what he ordered me to, but – I don’t care if it’s treasonous –
I don’t say that you should obey.”

She fell silent then, and for a full minute
no one spoke.

“
Why didn’t you say at the
beginning that you had a message?” Tamon asked.

She cast him a spiteful glance. “Because I
didn’t come to bear a message, but I bore the message because I was
coming.”

“
But you just
said…”

“
I said I didn’t come for
my own pleasure,” she snapped. “What pleasure is it to come among
you who hate me? I didn’t know he would be here,” and she nodded
toward Yatol. “But he hates me too. I will go, see? You don’t have
to chase me away.
She
is here and you have your
salvation.”

“
Aniira,” Yatol said. “Why
are you so bitter?”

“
Because it’s all I have
left,” she said enigmatically, gazing at him with strange sad
eyes.

She turned and would have left, but Syarat
held out his hands to stop her. “You said King Zhabyr called us
back. Was that all he asked you to tell us?”

“
He said the city is all
that matters now. We need all our strength at the walls, not far
away at the borders. I don’t see that it matters. We are all going
to die one way or another. But perhaps you have reason to hope. I’m
sure I can’t judge. I hope it is true. For all our sakes I hope it
is true. Please,” she said quietly, her glance flitting briefly
toward Yatol, “please come back.”

And with that she turned and strode from the
tent. She walked proudly, but I knew from the look on her face that
she was broken. Yatol watched her go, then suddenly he laid aside
his spear and started after her.

“
Yatol, where are you
going?” Tamon called.

“
I have nothing more to say
to you,” Yatol said over his shoulder.

He passed Tyhlaur outside the tent, and I
saw them exchange a brief glance. Tyhlaur wandered in to join
Kurtis and me.

“
Who was that?” Kurtis
asked.

“
I’ve never met her. She
and Yatol were both taught by the Guardians.”

“
Guardians?”

He shrugged. “Different Guardians for
different tasks. The portal guardians are the newest order. There
are guardians of lore, forests, cities… Healers are guardians of a
special order. The king himself is a guardian. I don’t know what
Aniira’s role was, though.”

“
Yatol was a portal
guardian,” Kurtis said.

Tyhlaur nodded. “Like our father. But Yatol
was called too soon. Yatol’s master guardian had died only a month
earlier, and there were no others.”

“
How did he die?” I
asked.

Tyhlaur shrugged. “Sickness. Old age.
Poison. I don’t think they ever said.”

Yatol appeared in the entry of the pavilion,
beckoning us. We followed him to a large tent near the perimeter of
the camp, the pale leather panels glowing from the fire blazing
inside. Yatol held back the flap for us to enter, but just on the
threshold I halted. Aniira was inside, crouching next to the fire.
She looked like she had been crying, but her eyes were dry now, and
she only regarded me with sullen disinterest.

I shifted my gaze from her to Yatol, but he
only studied me quizzically before motioning for me to go in. I
obeyed, miserable, keeping my head bowed to avoid meeting her gaze.
When we were all seated around the fire, Yatol folded his hands
into the sleeves of his tunic and cleared his throat.

“
If any of you do not want
to be part of this mission, now is your chance,” he began,
indicating the entry with a pointed glance. When no one moved he
went on, “Damian and Charlon will likely be held in the Gorhiem
Bolstoed, where they will be questioned regarding Pyelthan. Where
it is. Who carries it. For some reason they’re obsessed with it.
Everything seems to hinge on that coin.”

I shuddered, cold despite the swirling
fire.

“
I didn’t mention it to the
captains or Master Syarat, but my guess is that the Ungulion force
will delay until they have…made their interrogations.”

Broken them
, my inner voice said, but
I pushed the thought away.

“
What is this place?”
Kurtis asked. “The Gor–”

“
Gorhiem Bolstoed,” Aniira
said, flicking a glance in my direction. “It’s a tower, an ancient
fortress in the
Perstaun
. The Ungulion captured it, and have
occupied it this half a century. They take their captives there, as
a holding prison.”

I scowled at the dirt. She talked about it
like she was reading a report. Half-consciously I reached up to my
cheek, rubbing the still-bruised spot where the Ungulion had struck
me.

“
Merelin, are you all
right?” Kurtis asked. “You look kind of pale.”

I raised my gaze, not to him but to Yatol.
For a moment it was like he was the only other person in the tent.
I whispered, “I’m afraid to go back.”

“
Go back?” Kurtis and
Tyhlaur echoed in unison.

“
Merelin, when
were—”

Yatol speared him a warning glance and shook
his head subtly. I could feel them all staring questions at me, but
it was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Yatol reached over
and clasped my hand, finding my gaze and holding it. Out of the
corner of my eye I saw Aniira watch the gesture with a faint frown.
That was the only satisfaction I felt.

“
We need a plan,” Yatol
said presently, squeezing my hand gently before releasing it. “The
tower is in the middle of the desert. I know one way to sneak in,
but I don’t know if it would work for a party of us. In any event,
it will be too dangerous for us all to approach together, openly,
so we will need another strategy.”

“
The Ungulion can’t see in
the dark or anything, can they?” Kurtis asked.

“
No more than you or I,”
Tyhlaur said.

Yatol shifted, but if he had meant to add
something, he apparently thought better of it.

Kurtis chewed on his lip. “Do they think
Damian has Pyelthan?”

“
Perhaps. But they will
soon find out he doesn’t.”

“
But they
did
know
Merelin had it at one point.”

“
Yes.”

Kurtis went on gnawing for another minute or
so, while the rest of us sat and watched him. Finally he glanced up
at me.

“
Merelin, you know the
story of the Trojan horse, right?”

“
Of course.” He nodded, and
I realized he wanted me to tell it for the others. “There’s a story
in our ancient history, of a great battle in front of a city called
Troy. The attackers couldn’t do anything to win. They fought for
ten years, I think. Finally they put together a wooden
horse—”

I paused, hearing the foreign word,
horse
. Kurtis had said it in English too. Maybe they had
never seen a horse on Arah Byen. Weird.

“
Well, it was a great
wooden beast, with a big belly. A bunch of the soldiers hid inside
the belly and they left the beast outside the city for the Trojans
to find. The Trojans thought it was a gift of peace, I think, so
they pulled it into the city and had a huge celebration. That night
the soldiers climbed out of the beast and started fighting again
from the inside of the city. They won the war.”

Yatol exchanged a surprised glance with
Tyhlaur, who was grinning broadly at the story. I smiled a little,
then turned back to Kurtis.

“
But what does that have to
do with us? We can’t make a wooden horse and drag it out into the
desert.”

“
No. But what’s the essence
of the story?”

Yatol answered. “Those soldiers were
essentially welcomed within the walls because of the appearance of
a gift.”

Kurtis smiled, looking rather professorial.
“Exactly.”

“
You can’t mean we should
offer them Pyelthan?” I gasped, heart sinking as I caught the drift
of his plan.

“
Not exactly. Yatol, are
there any metal smiths here in the camp?” he asked, and Yatol
nodded. “We could have him make a rough copy of the coin. At least
the shape, so that from a moderate distance it would pass off as
Pyelthan. Yatol, I’m thinking you and Tyhlaur would be the best
candidates for this part of the plan. You have experience dealing
with the Ungulion, and besides, Merelin’s still hurt. We can’t all
go or they’ll know we’re up to something.”

I scowled and shifted my arm – aching again
– in the sling. It made me feel useless. Yatol gestured for Kurtis
to continue, looking somber and thoughtful, while Kurtis reminded
me more of a kid at a fair. I’d never seen him so excited.

“
So, here’s the plan. We
all head as close to the tower as we can, while still staying out
of sight. We’ll need disguises, I think. Then, close to evening,
you and Tyhlaur take the copy-coin and go openly the rest of the
way. Offer the Ungulion the coin in exchange for the
hostages.”

“
They’ll never agree to
that,” Aniira broke in. “They don’t negotiate.”

“
We don’t need them to. It
doesn’t matter. The point is, they will probably take Yatol and
Tyhlaur inside, thinking they can take the coin and get rid of all
four prisoners at once. But as soon as Yatol and Tyhlaur
escape—”

Tyhlaur choked back a burst of laughter.
“You make it sound so easy.”

“
It’s not that hard,” Yatol
said, quietly.

That silenced Tyhlaur.

“
As I was saying, while you
two are escaping and keeping the Ungulion distracted, we three will
approach the tower in the dark. Are there any side entries you can
use to let us in?”

“
A grated drain on the left
wall. Usually it is no more than four feet off the ground, but it
varies a little with the sands. It also has the advantage of being
under a slight battlement, so there’s less chance of the Ungulion
sentries seeing you.”

“
So, you let us in, then we
go find Damian and Charles and get out while it is still
dark.”

Yatol glanced across at Tyhlaur. “What do
you think?”

“
It’s as mad and unlikely
as the rest of this,” he said. “I’m in.”

Yatol smiled. “Aniira? I don’t want to
involve you if you don’t want to be involved, but we could use your
skill.”

Her whole face lit up at the praise, and my
inner voice grouched unhappily. Skills. She apparently had some
useful talents, unlike me. They were just taking me along because
they felt sorry for me.

“
What do you do?” Kurtis
asked, as if he’d read my mind.

“
I’m a Shadow.”

“
She’s a spy,” said
Yatol.

Spy! Figured it would be something so
glamorous.

“
Who is there for you to
spy on? Besides the Ungulion?”

Aniira flicked an enigmatic glance at
Kurtis. “I don’t spy
on
people. Not exactly. I’m an
informant for the King’s guard. We have plenty of enemies besides
the Ungulion.”

“
We may need you to act as
a diversion,” Yatol told her. “If things go badly.”

How encouraging. But Aniira only nodded,
fierce. I wanted to roll my eyes. Part of me was ashamed of my
hostility toward her, but I couldn’t help it. To make things worse,
I could sense the same sort of resentment coming from her. I
gritted my teeth. Rescuing Damian and Mr. Dansy was going to be
hard enough without extra drama. I’d have to just get over it.

“
The plan is settled,”
Yatol said, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ll head out as soon as we
can get the copy made.”

Chapter 18 – Operation Troy

Dusk had just begun to settle over the land,
and in the growing shadows the tower seemed black. We huddled
behind the largest mound of sand we could find, all of us in pale
sand-gold cloaks. Aniira and Yatol both peered over the top of the
ridge, but at that moment I couldn’t care less what they were
looking at. I lay half-curled up, gritting my teeth in anguish.
Every few hours Yatol had made me take some of Shan’s concoction,
but after a while it didn’t seem to matter. The pain just wouldn’t
go away. And now every bone in my body ached, every muscle tremored
with numb exhaustion.