The Last Scion (The Guardians of Light Book 1) Page 6

  She gave another hushed yelp and dropped herself into the water. She came up a moment later, as far as her chin.

  “Sorry,” Senia said, blushing furiously, eyes sheepish.

  Ahrn was still stunned, unable to speak, her body burned in his memory, an image of perfection.

  “It’s been a while since I bathed in a river.” Her words came out in a rush. “I forgot about the fish. One of them brushed by me… it startled me. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

  “Oh,” was all Ahrn could manage in reply. He didn’t move.

  They stared at each other, eyes locked. A strong breeze washed through the trees above them. Neither one of them moved.

  “I’m good now.”

  “Good.”

  Ahrn couldn’t think of anything else to say. His tongue moistened his lips, knowing he should say… something. The moment stretched.

  “You can go now.”

  “Yes,” he said, realizing only then he should have left some time ago. He turned away, breaking the spell of the scene, and walked slowly back to the road. By all the Gods, what an idiot he must seem to her. Breaking away last night then completely unable to do so today.

  His heart raced, partly from the scare and the dash through the forest, but mostly from the remembrance of her.

  He reached the road and sat, waiting. Trying desperately to get his thoughts, his entire life, back in order. Everything was falling apart around him, within him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to stop.

  Senia stepped onto the road a little while later, hair wet, clinging to her, soaking through the thin fabric of her white linen shirt. It was a new shirt. She’d had a spare set of clothes, but only the one cape. It was slung over an arm, still drying, the blood spots now just faint brown scars on the cloth.

  He didn’t know what he could say that would make him seem any less like a confused, obsessed, distracted dolt, so he said nothing. They started off in silence and so it remained for the remainder of the day.

  CHAPTER 10

  T he next week of traveling seemed to stretch, drawn into an unending rise of higher and higher hills, and little companionship. Senia had begun to feel close to Ahrn, linked somehow, but since that night… after the fight… and the day at the river, that had all changed. He was distant now, saying little, only what was needed to be polite, but never anything deeper. He was cut off to her and she could feel it, as if an arm or leg had been removed. No, not a limb, something internal. She could survive without an arm, but she felt like she was quietly dying, some inner piece of her torn out, leaving a bloody trail behind her to those places where everything had changed.

  Couldn’t he feel what they had shared in that kiss? Didn’t he see how they were joined now?

  Apparently not.

  They came to a city.

  “Riston,” Ahrn said, emotionless. How he knew, he didn’t share, as it was with everything now.

  “Anything I need to know before we go down there?” She hoped perhaps to elicit some response from him. They stood on a high rise overlooking the city, which sat sprawled down the side of the hill opposite them in the valley to the edge of a wide river which cut the valley floor. It was just after noon.

  “Women with swords will be rare, you’ll be out of place with that.” He vaguely waved his hand in the direction of Emberthorn.

  I don’t like it when he calls me ‘that’. Emberthorn, perhaps feeling her pain, was pouty.

  I know. He doesn’t mean it, I’m sure. He’s just upset right now.

  Because you kissed? I’m still a little fuzzy on that one.

  Senia sighed. It’s his vows.

  You’ve mentioned that.

  They are important to him. They are his life, and I’m threatening them. So he’s angry at me, or himself, or something… I don’t know. I don’t really know what’s going on at all and he doesn’t seem interested in telling me. Have I mentioned I don’t really want to talk about it?

  Then why is it all you think about?

  Because I can think about whatever I want and not have to talk about it, that’s how things are supposed to work when you don’t have a sword with a mind of its own in your head.

  Right, sorry.

  Ahrn started down the ridge toward the city. “We need supplies, we’ll have to go through, so figure out what you are doing with that beast of a weapon.”

  She frowned at him, sticking her tongue out for a moment. It was childish, but that didn’t stop it from feeling good.

  Senia walked after him but made no effort to catch up.

  Any thoughts on how I can hide you?

  Why would you want to?

  You heard what he said.

  I did, but that doesn’t mean he’s making any sense.

  She gave Emberthorn a mental frown of displeasure.

  Fine, there is something.

  I’m listening.

  There is a command. If you say ‘Float’ you will not need to hold me, I’ll just hover along next to you.

  And that won’t draw any attention at all. She rolled her eyes.

  There is another command, but I don’t like it much.

  Tell me.

  I don’t want to.

  Tell me now, Emberthorn. I am your Guardian, and I need to know. She wasn’t being kind, but then again she was already aggravated, and he wasn’t helping.

  Emberthorn sighed heavily. Sometimes you’re no fun at all.

  Emberthorn!

  You can tell me to ‘Vanish’ and I’ll disappear.

  Great, Van…

  Wait!

  What?

  Not yet, please.

  Why?

  Because. She felt Emberthorn shudder, his fear leaving the taste of ash in her mouth. It’s… a dark, lonely place I go to. I don’t like it there.

  Senia let out a long sigh. Fine, I’ll wait.

  Thank you.

  How do I get you back?

  Say my name, out loud.

  She nodded. Can I still talk to you when you’re ‘vanished’?

  No. You are essentially breaking our connection in a way. It is something Guardians only rarely did. It hurts both of us.

  This was turning out to be a grand day indeed.

  Farther down the hill, when within sight of the ferry that would take them across the river to the city, she told Emberthorn to vanish… and fell to her knees when she did.

  Ahrn, still walking ahead, didn’t notice.

  For a moment, the pain was unbearable, shuddering through her body in waves. It quickly subsided to a general ache, a deep muscle soreness throbbing through her. As she rose, heavily, there was a stab of pain in her side, muscles cramping. She bent, sucking air through clenched teeth until it stopped, but she found, as she staggered down the rest of the hill, that such sharp points of pain would come and go, punctuating the ache that was her body.

  When she joined Ahrn at the edge of the river, he glanced over at her, then, turned to her, confused.

  “Where…?”

  “Gone, don’t ask.” Her foul mood had increased with the pain, his bewildered look gave her a moment’s joy.

  He shrugged, peering back up the hill, then turned back to her with a nod. “Good.”

  No, not good. Couldn’t he see she was in agony!

  The ferry came.

  The river was wide and sluggish here, the simple barge, large and flat, had several strong men polling them across. Senia, having lost the exceptional balance she possessed with Emberthorn and already feeling slightly ill, sat on the deck, the slight sway and pitch threatening to make a really bad day worse. Ahrn seemed fine, standing steady. She glared at him in that moment, loathing his easy grace and strength.

  She forced herself to walk off the barge, crawling would just have been too much to bear.

  The unmoving earth was much better, but her head was swimming now, either a further consequence of sending Emberthorn away, or lingering side-effect of the ferry-ride, she wasn’t sure.

  The first thing on
this side of the river was a wide, well-worn road, east to west. On the other side of that a great and bustling market. Beyond the stalls and wagons buildings began, the city looming over them, seeming taller for the hill that it climbed.

  Senia nearly lost her lunch.

  One dry convulsion and she steadied herself.

  Ahrn was there, firm hand on her back. “Are you unwell?”

  Eyes clamped shut to control her traitorous body, she couldn’t see him, but he actually sounded concerned.

  “No!” she said through clenched teeth.

  “I know of some herbs for sea-sickness.”

  No, that wasn’t it, and she knew it now. It was something else, something greater. The connection between her and Emberthorn had grown strong and to be without him was harsh and painful.

  And she’d be damned if she let Ahrn see it.

  She straightened slowly, jaw trembling from the force of ramming her teeth together. “I’ll… be… fine,” she hissed. A long breath, then. “Let’s get our supplies and go.”

  He nodded. He did look concerned, honey-eyes soft and drawn.

  “If you want, you can rest while I get what we need. I shouldn’t be long.”

  She shook her head.

  He perked up suddenly. “I could find a room for the night, you could have a bed?”

  She shook her head violently; she didn’t want to stay in the city any longer than she had to. As long as she was here, she was without Emberthorn.

  And that was torture.

  “Oh…” This seemed to throw him. “We’ll just get the supplies, and we’ll go then?”

  She tried a smile. “Thank you.” It didn’t come out kindly, but then she wasn’t in any sort of a ‘kindly’ way at the moment.

  She followed him into the market.

  People clustered around her, tight, airless, loud.

  She stopped to steady herself on the side of a fruit stand, and when she looked up, Ahrn was gone.

  There was movement all around, her vision swam, people’s faces bobbing and babbling in a never-ending sea, then…

  A flash of black.

  It couldn’t be. Not here, and yet, she knew the assassins would stop at nothing to take her.

  “Emb…” Choked, breathless. A strong arm wrapped around her neck, squeezing the air out of her. Too late, far far too late.

  Ahrn appeared, seeing her, his eyes grew wide.

  Something dug sharply into her side. A voice, behind her, low and quiet, said, “Don’t move, monk, or she dies.”

  Ahrn, a growing helplessness drawing his features, raised his hands out to the side. Several black-clad men came into view, grabbing him.

  The pressure on her neck increased, and her world faded.

  Her last image was Ahrn, his voice unheard, his lips forming the words, “I’m sorry Senia.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Senia lay, pallid, sprawled where the men in black had tossed her, on the cold stone floor of the keep.

  Ahrn watched everything, waiting, keeping his rage bottled for the moment. He would kill these men, of that he was sure, but for now, something larger was happening, and he needed to pay attention.

  The group of ten men who’d captured them in the market were augmented by a further score of black-clad men around the large hall. They were waiting for something or someone. A large wooden chair on a raised dais was the focal point of the room, made for the Lord of this city perhaps. Ahrn waited, a rope tight and raw on his wrists bound behind him.

  The man who emerged from the curtain behind the throne was of average height, dressed in fine, thick robes, a rich dark blue with silver trim. His dark eyes, sharp and keen traced over Ahrn, then Senia, his brow raising slightly. He raised a hand to stroke the small patch of beard at his chin, neatly trimmed.

  He strode to Ahrn, his gate confident, easy. They were of a height, Ahrn having the slight advantage, he met the man’s gaze with stern, cold eyes.

  “Where is the sword?” the man asked, his tone even, casual.

  A cold, hard ball formed in the pit of Ahrn’s stomach. “What sword?”

  The man raised a hand before Ahrn’s face and snapped his fingers. Searing pain spiked into Ahrn’s eyes, he shut them against the blinding light, turning away.

  “Do not make the mistake of believing that you are of any worth to me, monk,” the man said, his voice still level, unfazed.

  Ahrn should have known The Blacklord would send one of his puppet mages after Senia. Ahrn had little experience fighting against magic. This was not going to be fun.

  Ahrn could hear the wizard’s footfalls on the stone of the floor pacing around him. “I will kill you unless you are of use to me. So… what is it to be?”

  Ahrn tried to open his eyes, seeing at first only massive dark splotches with a haze of the rest of the room around the edges. Slowly the spots faded, but he knew he wouldn’t have full sight for some time yet.

  “I told her to hide it. I didn’t think a girl with a Greatsword would look right in a city.”

  “A sensible precaution. Where did she leave it?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  With his blurry sight, Ahrn saw the wizard raise a hand. He spun away from whatever magic might be coming. The bright bolt of white-hot light which streamed from the mage’s palm only grazed his side and the side of his arm forced behind him. Still, he felt his skin burn, heard the sear. Pain shot through him.

  He collapsed, trying as best he could, with hands tied, to protect his side.

  “Do you expect me to believe that you wouldn’t know such a thing? You a monk of Embreth, keeper of secrets?”

  He grimaced, teeth clenched. “You can believe whatever you wish. You are obviously going to kill me, so why should I tell you anything.”

  “I can make this quick and easy or roast you gradually over the next week. Which would you prefer?”

  “Either way I’m dead.”

  “True. It depends on how much pain you are willing to endure for this girl.”

  “I will never tell you where the sword is.” It helped that he had no clue what Senia had actually done with the thing.

  “We shall see.” Without looking, Ahrn could tell from the rustling of the man’s robes that he was kneeling next to where Ahrn lay.

  Even turned away, eyes shut so tight tears squeezed from the rims, he could see the blossom of light next to his head. It was hot, and with torturous patience, the wizard pressed it closer. Hair singed away, his ear burned, shriveling, the entire side of his head, doused in fire.

  He screamed. He couldn’t help but release the pain in some way.

  The burning stopped, the light fading, leaving only the acrid smell of his own charred flesh.

  “Well, what say you, monk?”

  “On the hill, across the river. There is a bush of thistles near the top, it’s buried there.”

  The wizard pressed his hand into the burned flesh on Ahrn’s face, causing another scream. He pushed down, though he need not use much force as Ahrn instinctively moved away until the other side of his face was pressed to the cold stone.

  “I hope you aren’t lying to me, monk.” The hand released, and the rustling of fabric indicated the wizard was standing, moving away. “Go,” the man called out. “Find the sword and bring it to me.”

  The lie would only buy time. Ahrn had to figure out what to do with that time.

  He had to think, to move past the pain and do something.

  Opening his eyes, well actually only one eye, for the other was partially burned, seared shut, he risked a glance out across the floor.

  Senia lay directly in his field of view, not too far away and… awake.

  She too, obviously sensing some risk, had only one eye open, the one closest to the floor, and she was looking at him. Though her face didn’t alter, through the intense gaze, the wideness of the eye, the slight shudder of her brow, the tears emerging from that azure pool, he knew she could see the full extent of his injuries.

&n
bsp; For a moment, which spanned no more than two beats of his heart, an eternity of understanding passed between them. They shared the secrecy, the pain, the uncertainty of this moment.

  Ahrn tried to shake his head ever so slightly, and she nodded, only the barest hint of moment. Then she closed her eye, remaining still.

  Good, he had an ally. She might not have her sword, but perhaps, somehow, together they could get free from this place.

  Through the agony, the blistering pain, Ahrn moved, pushing himself up until he had his knees beneath him, his forehead still pressing the stone floor.

  ‘Wizard!” he croaked out. “What is your name?”

  From some distance away the man replied, still ever so calm. “You wish to know the name of the man who will kill you, monk?”

  “Perhaps I do.”

  “Prandol, Wizard of light and seeing, Archmage of The Blacklord.”

  “An Archmange, really? He sent one of his highest to get this little girl?”

  “The highest. And I think we both know that this ‘little girl’ as you call her, is worth it. A prize unlike any other. A Scion with bonded Aehryn-Gift. We both also know she has, with rather surprising ease, dealt with the two forces that were sent against her so far. So yes, I was called in to oversee the capture of the Scion.”

  Good, get him talking, let him think he was in control. Ahrn rocked back onto bent knees, his side lancing pain as he tried to sit straight. He gritted through it.

  “How did you find us?”

  A laugh, light and easy. “Did I completely ruin your hearing monk? I’m a wizard of light and seeing. I have been following you for over a week now. It was pure providence that you happened to be heading straight for me.”

  That wasn’t right. Heading straight for him? He had been here all along? “What would an Archmage of The Blacklord being doing in some city in Vohria?” Ahrn asked.

  Looking over, from his kneeling position, Ahrn, with his one good eye watched Prandol turn leisurely. The wizard raised a single brow with a sly smile. “I’ve been here for weeks now, overseeing the final stages of domination. The Blacklord came to an… agreement with the King of Vohria some time ago. They are… allies now, all of Vohria added to The Blacklord’s realm. I have been here making sure the local lord was cooperating. This will be one of our staging grounds for an attack on your abbey of St. Antin. It will fall, and then there will be no united force against us.” Prandol stalked over to Ahrn, bending low to sneer in his face. “I love being the bearer of bad news.”