The Whitefire Crossing (41 page)

I’d feared to see only Pello, lazing beside an empty carriage with a mocking grin. A surge of relief hit me when I saw both him and the guardsman standing in the clearing. My relief faded when I looked closer. Half of Simon’s trunks lay opened on the ground, and a second, saddled mount with bulging panniers stood next to the horse still hitched to the carriage. What were they doing? And where were Simon and Kiran?

“Bring me the warded box.”

Cara and I flinched in tandem as Simon’s voice rang out, sounding terribly near. He stepped out from behind the carriage, no sign of disorientation or clumsiness showing in his movements. Even as I watched, he brushed a fallen pine needle off his sleeve with a fastidious little flick of his hand. No drugs for him yet, then.

Pello scurried over to the carriage and retrieved a carved wooden chest from beneath the driver’s seat. The pattern of the inlaid copper sigils on the box looked awfully similar to my blackshroud ward. Simon must have powerful charms inside. Damn his eyes, what did he intend? And more importantly, why couldn’t he hurry up and swallow some hennanwort?

Simon stood still as a statue, facing the forest to the east, his cropped brown hair shining in the early afternoon sun. At last he spoke over his shoulder. “Get the boy, and get ready.”

I exchanged a glance with Cara. Get ready for what?

***

(Kiran)

Kiran let his weight sag in Morvain’s bruising grip as the man pulled him from the carriage. His weakness wasn’t much of a pretense. During the long muddied interval of time since leaving Simon’s house, the drugged fog had gradually lifted from his thoughts, though the smothering numbness remained. But his muscles felt terribly slow to respond and the disorienting visual and aural effects continued unabated. Even now, his surroundings wavered and danced as if seen through a thick heat haze.

He thought he was in a forest clearing ringed by towering pines with cinnamon-colored bark, of the sort he remembered from the forest near Kost. Simon stood a short distance away. One hand was outstretched, his face drawn with concentration. A sigil-marked box lay open at his feet, but Kiran couldn’t see what lay inside.

What magic was Simon working? Kiran struggled to sense through the void. Green halos sparked and flickered from the tree branches in front of Simon, in oddly regular patterns. Almost, he could imagine they formed a wall...conviction seized Kiran. There
was
a wall. Simon stood before the border, only steps away from the magic that bounded all of Alathia. The visual distortions from the hennanwort weren’t random, as Kiran had assumed—the drug must not be capable of completely severing his perception of magic. Though he could no longer sense it within, he saw traces of it staining the air, affecting the
ikilhia
of everything nearby.

But why was Simon here? The border magic in this spot would be at full strength, unattenuated by an archgate. One errant step too far, and the wards would trigger. The treatises Kiran had read in Ninavel warned that the Council kept a cadre of mages on watch, ready to use the seemingly depthless source that powered their wards to translocate to any disturbance.

Simon dropped his hand, looking satisfied. Metal glinted as he lifted a gem-encrusted silver vambrace large enough to cover a man’s entire forearm from the box at his feet. Kiran winced and jerked his gaze away. The charm threw off wavering halos so viciously bright it hurt to look at. Worse, the halos pulsed and writhed in a way that sent waves of nausea heaving through him.

A flickering movement drew Kiran’s attention upward. The flowing patterns of the tree-halos closest to Simon had shifted, bending upward and away.

Kiran’s stomach sank under the weight of an awful suspicion. Every scholar he’d read had proclaimed the Alathian wards impenetrable. But what if during his long exile Simon had unearthed an artifact like the one that surely powered Alathia’s wards? If he had, and found a way to modify it into a charm that would allow him to breach the border undetected...

Cold panic squeezed the breath from Kiran’s lungs. He’d assumed Simon would have to pass the border at a gate, where an Alathian mage would be working to sense any illegal magic, no matter how small. Out here in the wild, Kiran’s hidden gemstone would react to the magic of the wards, but the tiny discharge of magic would go unnoticed, far too weak to trigger them.

Once in Arkennland, Simon would be free to use the full strength of his magic, and Kiran would be utterly helpless against him.

No.
He couldn’t let that happen.

The green halos drew Kiran’s eye again. One final chance might remain. No matter how far the hennanwort had suppressed his magic, if he himself touched the border, the wards would activate and the Alathians come in force. He just had to get close enough.

The visual distortions from the drug made it difficult to judge distance, but Kiran thought the border lay some hundred feet from his position. Too far, unless he could distract Simon.

The gemstone...his heart skipped a beat. The stone would react against any magic, not only that of the wards. He inched his free hand toward his pocket, taking care to keep his head drooping and his other arm relaxed in Morvain’s grasp.

***

(Dev)

When the guardsman hauled Kiran out of the carriage, I heard Cara inhale sharply. No question that unlike Simon, he was drugged to the hilt. His head lolled and he wavered on his feet like he’d collapse without the guardsman’s grip on his arm.

Hold on,
I willed him.
We’re trying to help.

Metal flashed in the sunlight, and I shifted my attention to Simon. Silver glittering with gemstones now covered his arm from wrist to elbow. I’d never seen a charm so large.

Pello straightened from his casual slouch against the carriage. He stared at Simon, his brows drawn together. His evident concern pricked at my already strained nerves. Did Pello think Simon was about to work blood magic? Surely not. Even way out here, the detection spells were too strong to allow that. Besides, Kiran had said not even blood magic could break through those border wards.

My gaze snapped back to Kiran. Something about the way he stood...my breath caught. His free arm had tension in the muscles that didn’t match the rest of his body, and his hand was moving, so slowly it was almost imperceptible, sliding by degrees into his pocket.

I nudged Cara and pointed at her crossbow.

She cocked her head, her face puzzled. We’d agreed not to act until Simon took hennanwort.

I pointed to my eyes, then to Kiran, and fisted a hand in one of the signs outriders used when the roar of waterfalls or wind drowned out yells.
Ready to move.

Kiran jerked his hand from his pocket. His fingers flicked, as if throwing something. My knuckles whitened on the cinnabar branch.

The air around Simon burst into yellow flame. A glaring flash whited out my vision.

I blinked away afterimages, fighting to see. Kiran had wrenched his arm free of the startled guardsman and was half-staggering, half-running straight ahead.

Oh, gods! This little clearing must sit right beside the border. Kiran meant to set off the border magic and bring the Alathians down on Simon, hell with the consequences. The flash had blinded everyone for a few key seconds, but I didn’t know if it would be enough. Pello was still scrubbing at his eyes, but the guardsman was already racing after Kiran.

Simon’s fiery shield vanished. His free hand dropped from his eyes.

“Shoot the guardsman!” I hissed at Cara.

Cara blinked furiously and squinted down the bow, her finger hovering over the release as she fought to track the running man.

Simon slashed a hand in the air. Kiran’s legs gave way. Even as he fell, he threw himself forward, one hand extended in a desperate reach.

The guardsman covered the final distance in a furious leap and snatched at Kiran’s collar, jerking him backward. Kiran landed in a sprawl at the man’s feet, his outflung limbs rigid.

I forced Cara’s bow down. Too late, gods all damn it. If she shot now, she’d only get us killed by Simon.

In the clearing, nobody moved. Then Simon let out an explosive breath and spat out a vicious string of words in a language I didn’t recognize. He rounded on the guardsman. “Get him away from there,” he snapped.

The guardsman dragged Kiran backward toward the carriage. Simon followed, fury mixing with relief on his face.

Cara’s face was white.
My fault,
she mouthed, and tapped the bow’s sight, then her still watering eyes.

I pressed her wrist and shook my head. No surprise she’d been lagging too far behind the guardsman to shoot, after that flash.
Wait
, I signed.
Try again.

Though I wasn’t feeling too optimistic a second chance would come. The frantic desperation on Kiran’s face as he ran, and that bizarre charm of Simon’s...I had a nasty suspicion those damn border wards weren’t so impenetrable as everyone thought.

Below, Simon halted in front of Pello. “How did the boy get a gemstone?” His voice was soft and deadly.

Pello turned the color of old parchment. “I don’t know. I searched his clothing, as you asked, but if the stone was small...he might have concealed it beneath his tongue, until he was in the carriage. I warned you it was safest to use yeleran in addition to the hennanwort. You were the one who said yeleran would extend the hennanwort’s effects for too long.”

Simon’s hand twitched, and I thought to see Pello fall dead at his feet. But Simon’s gaze wandered to the carriage, and his hand relaxed. “We will see,” he said, his voice still soft. “Once in Arkennland, Kiran will tell me whose failure this was.”

He must still need Pello for something. Though from Simon’s tone, Pello’s death would come the moment that need ended.

Pello surely knew it, too. His stance radiated tension. My mind raced, chasing new possibilities. Maybe we could use Pello somehow.

Simon knelt at Kiran’s side. He said something to Kiran too quiet to hear, and drew a dagger from his belt. He nicked first his palm, then Kiran’s, and pressed Kiran’s bloody palm against his own.

Kiran’s muscles slackened, released from their rigid paralysis. For an instant, I thought that was all Simon meant to do.

And then Kiran screamed. Screamed like he was being burned alive, his body convulsing on the ferns. Sickened, I wanted desperately to cover my ears, but I didn’t dare let go of the cinnabar branches. It went on for what felt like forever, and the whole while Simon wore a savage smile, his eyes locked on Kiran’s agonized face. At last he sat back, and Kiran’s ragged shrieks died away into silence. He collapsed into a limp huddle, his eyes closed.

Simon glanced at the guardsman. “Search him—thoroughly this time!—then bind his wrists and ankles. And you—” he turned to Pello. “Get the carriage ready to leave. Quickly, in case anyone traveling the southward road heard that and comes to investigate.”

Hope bloomed. Maybe he still meant to cross at the gate.

Simon stood and extended his arm. The charm flashed and glowed a deep, poisonous green. A matching wash of color rippled outward from a point in the air some ten feet in front of him, until it appeared he stood in front of a shimmering, semi-transparent wall. The guardsman continued to search Kiran without even looking up, but Pello paused in the midst of lashing trunks to the carriage roof, his eyes gone wide.

Awe and dread made my stomach lurch. Mother of maidens, if he could get through the border magic...

Strain tightened Simon’s face. Directly in front of him, the airy glimmer of the wall shivered and faded. A hole appeared, spreading outward.

I nearly snapped off a screening branch. Cara gripped my shoulder. She tapped my belt where my boneshatter charm lay, and jerked a thumb at the border.

I shook my head, my jaw clenched, and brought my palms together in the sign for
not enough rope
. No charm I carried would bring the Alathians way out here. We couldn’t even set off the wards by trying to walk through them, ordinary as we were. And that blaze of yellow fire around Simon, when Kiran had thrown the supposed gemstone—Simon was protected from attack, all right.

Plan?
Cara’s eyes burned with urgency.

Thinking.
Shaikar take Simon, there had to be something we could do!

The hole in the border had grown large enough for a man to pass. “Take the boy through,” Simon ordered the guardsman. His voice sounded rough, and tremors shook his extended arm. I tried to recall every last detail I’d heard from Kiran. Could Simon cast another spell while under so much strain from his charm? Damn it, I didn’t know, and the risk of failure was too high.

The guardsman slung Kiran over his shoulder. Kiran’s hands and feet were tightly bound with lengths of leather, his body completely slack. No doubt unconsciousness was a mercy. The guardsman edged toward the gap.

“Hurry up,” Simon snarled. The guardsman ducked through, with a nervous glance at the pulsing aura at the gap’s edge. He dumped Kiran at the base of a cinnabar tree and hurried back.

Simon stabbed a finger at the saddled horse. The guardsman pulled the picket and led the animal up to the gap. The horse snorted, eyes rolling. I prayed for it to balk, but the guardsman spoke in low, soothing tones, and the horse settled.

We’d near run out of time, yet I couldn’t figure a plan that’d result in anything but our deaths at Simon’s hands.

I put my mouth right against Cara’s ear. “We have to wait,” I whispered. “Let him go through, then ride back to Kost and tell the Alathians.”

Cara twisted to hiss in my own ear, “But if he’s in Arkennland, it’s too late!”

I whispered, “A blood mage who can walk through their border any time he pleases? The Council will hunt him down, even in Arkennland. And this way they may not arrest Kiran. He’s not illegally in Alathia anymore, and he wasn’t the one to breach their border.”

Cara held my gaze, frowning. She interlaced her fingers in a streetside truthtelling gesture and cocked her head.

I nodded with my best earnest expression. Sure, the Alathians would hunt Simon. But I feared they’d never reach him in time to save Kiran from whatever he’d planned. First they’d demand testimony under truth spell as proof we weren’t lying or crazy, then they’d want to investigate, both here and at Simon’s house, and then they’d argue over the political implications of setting foot outside their borders...my gut insisted Kiran didn’t have that kind of time.