Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (26 page)

“I
don’t know.”

He
just stood there, looking at me with those big brown eyes, and in one terrible
moment, I thought he was going to cry. Psychotic goblin brothers, Khrynsani
shamans, various creatures of the night, even Sarad Nukpana—those I could take.
What I could not take was Piaras going to pieces on me. At this point, I’d
probably join him.

I
waved my hands frantically. “No, no. Don’t cry.” I blinked back misties of my
own. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and I don’t want to cry.”

Piaras
didn’t cry, but he took a shuddering breath, which was just as bad. “It’s all
my fault. If I hadn’t gotten myself caught, none of this would have happened.”
His voice was on the verge of breaking. “We’d both be home right now, and you
wouldn’t have had to use…” He gestured vaguely and helplessly at where the
beacon rested beneath my shirt. “…that thing, and…”

I was
going to put a stop to this right now, before the salty sting in my eyes went
any further.

“That
thing’s the reason we’re still alive. I don’t know what happened to me, but
it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, except maybe a nine-hundred-year-old
dead Guardian who couldn’t keep track of his own necklace. But he’s not around
for us to yell at.”

Piaras
sniffed, then wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. I resisted the urge to do the
same.

He
swallowed, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “What are you going to
do?”

“The
only thing I can do. Contact Mychael Eiliesor and find some way to give him
this thing. If he wants it, he can have it. Guarding the Saghred is his job, so
I’m going to help him get on with it.”

“Do
you think you can trust him?”

“I
can’t trust any of the others who think they should have it. They all want me
dead, or worse. He doesn’t seem to. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

Piaras
sniffed. I sniffed.

I
heard Garadin’s low whistle. I peered around the crabpots. The
Fortune’s
dinghy was pulling up to the dock.

Saved
by the boat.

Two
of Phaelan’s crew rowed us out to the
Fortune.
The dinghy had a section
covered by a tarp. Piaras and I slipped under the tarp unnoticed by the
fishermen and unseen by any goblin.

The
short trip out to where Phaelan’s ship was moored gave me a few minutes to
think. Those thoughts kept coming back to the Guardian. Mychael Eiliesor could
have forceably taken the amulet from me as soon as he’d found us in The Ruins,
and in my condition, there wouldn’t have been much I could have done to stop
him. He didn’t. What he did do was put himself between me and Piaras and the
danger of Sarad Nukpana and told us to go. He wanted the amulet, but he wasn’t
going to endanger our lives to get it. In short, he was being the perfect
paladin and gentleman. I felt a little smile coming on. It wasn’t what I’d
expected, but it was something I could definitely get used to.

We
got out to the ship without incident.

For
the first time tonight, I felt safe. As with most of his possessions, Phaelan
didn’t bother with flash—with the
Fortune
, fast and nimble was all he
wanted. She delivered both. She also delivered forty guns, and men and elves
who knew how to use them.

Aeryk
Galir, Phaelan’s first mate, met us as we boarded on the port side. It faced
the barrier islands, well away from any curious eyes.

“The
Captain doesn’t get many visitors at this hour,” Aeryk said, grinning as he
helped me over the side. “He was surprised to hear you were coming aboard.”

“This
wasn’t exactly planned. I won’t be staying long. It wouldn’t be safe for me or
anyone else here.”

“Whatever
trouble’s after you, ma’am, we can handle it.”

“Right
now
I
can’t handle the trouble I have after me, and I’m not going to
make my problems anyone else’s. I plan to be gone before anyone knows I’m
here.”

Aeryk
shrugged, then nodded. He’d had firsthand experience of the trouble I
occasionally managed to attract, and he wasn’t going to give me any arguments.

“The
Captain asked me to have you all join him in his cabin.”

We
went below. Phaelan was at the table in the center of the cabin, the remains of
some kind of meal in front of him. With Phaelan’s night owl tendencies, who
knew which meal it was supposed to be. I crossed the cabin in three strides and
greeted my cousin with a big hug. Phaelan wasn’t the touchy-feely type, and
normally I respected his personal space, but things hadn’t been normal for days
so I felt entitled.

Piaras
had to duck his head to get through the door, and my cousin’s smile vanished
when he saw the young elf’s bruised face. The color hadn’t faded, but at least
the swelling had gone down.

“What
happened?” Phaelan’s voice promised many bad things for whoever had caused that
bruise.

“Nothing
good,” I told him. My voice suddenly sounded as exhausted as I felt. I think it
was the sight of somewhere to sit, and no one standing between me and there,
waiting to kill me. I pulled up a chair and sat down, my muscles tight and
protesting from a night of running and other less healthy activities. “I should
probably start from when I left home yesterday morning.”

Phaelan
ordered food and clean clothes brought for both of us. Mine were still more or
less in one piece, but the smell left something to be desired after the dunking
in The Ruins’ pond, so I took my cousin up on his offer. When I’d changed, I
told them all about my day—starting with my talk with Janek at Nigel’s
townhouse, then to my spotting of A’Zahra Nuru and subsequent meeting with Tam.
I finished with Ocnus’s setup and how Piaras and I had spent our night.

By
the time I stopped talking, Piaras had excused himself from the table and
stretched out on Phaelan’s bunk. He was now sound asleep. I was hard pressed to
keep my own eyes open.

Garadin
had his elbows on the table, his forehead resting against the palms of his
upraised hands. It was a thinking position he used when there was more of a
problem than information to solve it. Glad he agreed with me.

“In a
twisted way, it being a beacon makes sense,” he said. He lifted his head and
leaned back in his chair. “It would certainly explain its popularity—and
yours.”

“Nothing
makes sense to me, least of all why it picked me to attach itself to,” I told
him. “Guardians guard the Saghred. I’m not a Guardian. I’m only a passable
sorceress.”

Apparently
I was also my father’s daughter, and while I wanted to talk to Garadin about
it, I thought I’d wait until we were alone.

“The
beacon doesn’t seem to mind,” Phaelan noted.

“Well,
I do.”

“It
doesn’t seem to care what you think, either.”

I let
that one pass. He was right.

“I
have an idea of what you did.” Garadin’s blue eyes were solemn as he looked
back at me. “But I have no idea how you were able to do it.”

It
was only as much as I knew, and didn’t know, myself.

“How
much do you know about the Saghred?” I asked him.

“Enough
to know that you don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Too
late for that.” Now for the question of the night. “What can contact with it do
to me?”

Garadin
didn’t want to answer that one. That much was obvious.

“Legend
has it the Saghred can level armies or kingdoms,” he said. “Though there’s no
historical record of the Saghred linked with any destroyed army or
no-longer-existing kingdom. So it’s probably safe to say those are false
claims.”

“Probably
safe?”

“More
than likely.”

“But
not definitely.”

“No.”

I
sighed and took a sip of coffee. Phaelan served it laced with whiskey, and it
burned its way down my throat.

“Though
the Great Rift in Rheskilia was said to have been caused by the Saghred in a
Khrynsani experiment gone wrong,” Garadin added.

The
Great Rift was a mile-wide, nearly fifty-mile-long tear in the mountains of the
Northern Reach. That was some experiment.

“But
what would it do to
me
?” My voice sounded rather small.

“I’ve
only read about Khrynsani shamans using the Saghred,” Garadin said. “And they
weren’t too sane to begin with, so I don’t think they’re your best point of
reference.”

“For
what?”

“The
Saghred affecting mental stability.”

My
coffee stuck in my throat. I managed to swallow. “I’ve heard that one, too.”

“Just
another claim, probably false,” Garadin hurried to assure me. “I’m sure what
you experienced tonight was the beacon, or the shielding spells protecting the
Saghred.”

That
was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one possibly on the verge of going off
the deep end.

“Mychael
Eiliesor would be the one to ask,” Garadin added. “The Guardians play anything
to do with the Saghred close to the vest. You’ve decided to meet with him?”

I
nodded. “As soon as I’ve had some sleep. I have a feeling I’m going to need
it.”

“Do
you know where to find him?”

I
smiled, though it probably looked more like a grimace. “That’s the only easy
part of this whole mess. I don’t have to do a thing. He’ll find me. He’s been
popping into my head on a regular basis lately, so the next time he does it,
I’ll just make a date. I was going to find him first, but I’d rather have a few
hours of sleep.”

“Do
you want some company when you meet with him?” Phaelan asked.

I
took another swig of whiskey coffee. It didn’t burn now, but then I couldn’t
feel my tongue anymore, either.

“All
I can get,” I told him. “I don’t want any misunderstandings. When I tell him he
can have the beacon, he needs to know that I’m not part of the deal.”

Phaelan
drained his own mug. “I think we can help him understand that.”

“Tell
me more about the creatures that attacked you and Piaras,” Garadin said.

“What
Sarad Nukpana cooked up?”

“Those
are the ones.”

“More
like shadows than anything,” I told him. “That is, if shadows were solid, and
if ink could eat people.” I fought a shiver and failed. “Nukpana called them
Magh’Sceadu. I know goblin, but I’ve never heard that term before. Do you know
what they are?”

Garadin
nodded. “They’re a Khrynsani creation, supposedly made out of goblin elemental
magics. They function much like a sponge. They absorb magic in those who have
it, and the life force of those who don’t. The shaman who created them can then
use the harvested power for other purposes.”

If
Sarad Nukpana was their creator, I wasn’t anxious to hear about those other
purposes, or think about how close Piaras and I came to finding out firsthand.
The first order of business when I met with Mychael Eiliesor should probably be
a thank you.

“They
can take any form their creator chooses,” Garadin continued. “But as with most
conjurings, you can make them as elaborate or simple as needed. Elaborate takes
time and effort. From your description, what you encountered were Magh’Sceadu
at their most basic. A quick and dirty version. Apparently the Khrynsani are
more concerned with getting a specific job done rather than making them look
pretty.”

I
didn’t need to ask what that job was. Or more to the point, who that job was.

I
looked over at Piaras. He was still asleep. Good. I didn’t want him to hear
what I was going to ask. I didn’t want to know the answer, but I needed to. I
had seen what they had done to Siseal Peli and the goblin shamans who had tried
to rein them in, but I didn’t know what had actually happened to them. If I ran
into Nukpana’s beasties again, I wanted to be better prepared, though I really
didn’t think it would help. The shamans thought they were prepared, and look
what it got them. But I’d take a little knowledge over a lot of ignorance any
day. At the very least, I’d die knowing what killed me.

“I
don’t think Sarad Nukpana intended the Magh’Sceadu for you or Piaras,” Garadin
said, not completely misreading my thoughts. “Considering what they were made
to do, sending them after you would have been heavy-handed, not to mention
wasteful in Nukpana’s opinion. You have the beacon, he wants the Saghred, so he
wants you alive.”

Garadin
didn’t need to tell me that. I had figured out that sickening fact all by
myself.

“Nukpana
probably turned them loose in The Ruins to feed on the magical creatures
there,” Garadin continued. “Less chance of attracting the city watch that way.”

Made
sense to me. “The shamans lost control of them and paid the price. If I hadn’t
been able to do whatever it was I did, we probably would have ended up the same
way.”

“Possibly.”

I
fought down a wave of nausea. No, probably.

“I’d
say that you and Piaras together attracted their attention. You certainly got
mine. One whiff of your magic and they probably snapped their leashes, so to
speak, to get at you. Once they were on your trail, all the shamans could do was
chase them down and try to regain control.”