“I’m uncertain what to think,” Ancel said, “but the people who I prayed for the hardest always seem to find a way to safety.”
“Coincidence?”
“I–I don’t know. Is it still coincidence if it happens several times?”
“Well, it’s possible,” Ryne said, “but concrete proof is like chasing the wind. We know it’s there but we can’t capture it.”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Ryne chuckled. He hadn’t realized he was smiling. “You remind me of a boy I knew, that’s all. He was younger than you but always full of questions.” Memories of Kahkon flooded him. He held on to the good ones and pushed the painful ones away.
“You miss him?”
“More so now than I ever realized,” Ryne admitted. Stomach grumbling in earnest, he added. “How much farther is this place? I could eat a horse.” He glanced longingly at one of the beasts.
When he noticed Ancel had stopped, he turned back. The boy’s wide-eyed expression changed to a grimace.
“What?”
Ancel shook his head. “I always thought Ostanians eating horsemeat was a rumor.”
“You don’t?”
“No. It’s … it’s …”
“It tastes like deer,” Ryne insisted. He couldn’t help his smile when Ancel’s face paled. “Some things taste disgusting. Horseflesh isn’t one them, but I’ll remember to keep those thoughts to myself when I’m here.”
“You should be glad my friend Danvir isn’t around,” Ancel said. “He would’ve tried to gut you.”
Ryne chuckled.
“We’re here.” Ancel stopped at a five-storied building with a sign displaying a gigantic waterfall. The Whitewater Inn, the sign declared.
Six stern-faced Dagodin stood outside. Gazes locked on the greatsword at his hip, their hands drifted to their weapons. Ryne ignored them but kept his hand away from his weapon.
“Master Dorn, the Council is still meeting inside.” This from a Dagodin bearing the signet of a double set of crossed swords over a shield on the upper arm of his uniform. “We can’t allow anyone in.”
“Already I’m at a disadvantage,” Ancel said. “You know my name, and I don’t have a clue who you are. I make it my business to know every soldier’s name from officer on down.”
“I’m Knight Captain Steyn.” The man stood more erect, chest puffed out in an upper body hewn from stone.
“Hmm.” Ancel frowned then tapped a finger to his lips. He stopped as recognition crossed his face. “You lead the new Dagodin cohort from Calisto.”
The Knight Captain arched an eyebrow then nodded.
“Well, I understand your orders, Knight Captain Steyn, but the fact that the dining room is empty is exactly why I’m here. Not only am I starving, but could you picture me taking him,” Ancel gestured to Ryne with a smile, “into one of the more crowded establishments?”
“I see your point,” The Knight Captain looked Ryne up and down, “but orders are orders. You’re going to have to eat elsewhere.”
“Knight Captain,” the smile disappeared from Ancel’s face, “this was my mother’s favorite place. I always eat here in her memory.”
“Sorry to hear that, son.” The Knight Captain’s eyes appeared sympathetic for a moment before they hardened. “But people die all the time. If I listened to every sap who came to me with a sob story, no disrespect intended to my commander’s son or his wife, I’d be stripped of my position and drawn and quartered.”
Ancel’s face became blank. Darkness flashed across his aura for a moment. His Etchings gave a telltale shift.
Ryne reached a hand out to restrain him. Too late.
Time slowed. Everything happened at once.
A door to the side opened. Several people streamed out. Hand stretching to Ancel, Ryne picked out Irmina among them. Openmouthed, she stared from him to Ancel and then to something behind them.
Ancel’s right hand shot up in a blur, striking the Knight Commander in the chest. The blow’s force flung Steyn from his feet. He crashed into the inn’s wide oak door and fell in a heap of armor.
A snarl twisting her features, Irmina reached for her sword, eyes focused on whatever was beyond Ryne.
Ryne whirled.
A few dozen feet away stood a slim, golden-haired woman. Her aura bloomed with a peculiar mix of light, shade, and earth essences. An aura he knew well. She’d been present when he found Kahkon, broken, bloody, and barely alive.
Beside her stood a creature bigger than the average horse. It appeared to be a daggerpaw, but its lack of an aura said the beast was not of this world.
A netherling.
The normal tingle of battle energy became a rushing torrent. Ryne snatched for his greatsword and charged.
Chapter 15
Stunned by the sight of Ryne and Ancel, but even more so by the golden-haired Ostanian woman, Irmina drew in Mater to Forge.
Humongous sword in hand, Ryne was loping down the Eldan Road in those ground-eating strides of his. Ancel stared slack-jawed at her.
The Ostanian woman stood with two black Alzari daggers bared. The weapons brought the pain of the attack by Jaecar, his wife, and their shadelings screaming into Irmina’s memory. In front of the Ostanian, bone hackles raised into knives, Charra snarled.
“Stop!” Shin Galiana yelled.
Reluctantly, Irmina released the strands of her Forging. Along the road, people were scattering in every direction. Soldiers among them had unsheathed their weapons. The Dagodin at the door surrounded Ancel. Their Knight Captain lay in a boneless heap.
From behind Irmina, steel rasped on leather. Stefan bulled his way next to her and Galiana. He opened his mouth to speak.
“In Ilumni’s name. I. Said. STOP!” Galiana’s voice boomed unnaturally. The sound became a howling gale that flapped cloaks and rattled shutters and wind vanes.
Stefan’s mouth snapped shut. The soldiers froze.
Ryne kept going. He leapt into the air, sword swinging down toward the Ostanian woman.
Charra roared.
A seething mass of blue-tinged Mater shot up between Ryne and the daggerpaw.
Ryne’s body slammed into the elements with a resounding thud as if he struck a steel wall. For a moment, the surface dimmed, bent in on itself, and then rebounded. The effect blasted him back through the air, but instead of falling, Ryne twisted in a somersault. He landed lightly on his feet like some acrobatic dancer. Sword held crossways before him, muscles straining, face a livid mask, he stared at Charra.
Irmina spun on Galiana. “Why would you use that much power here? You could have hurt …” Her voice trailed off at Galiana’s shocked expression. Irmina’s gaze immediately shifted to the daggerpaw. Charra? Her mouth hung open before she remembered to close it.
A moment passed that seemed to last forever before Galiana finally shook her head as if waking from a trance. “What, in the pits of Hydae, is going on here?” She strode out into the road until she stood between Ryne and the daggerpaw.
Irmina followed and spoke up as she tried her best not to glance at Charra. “It’s her.” She nodded toward the golden-haired woman.
“You know Kachien, Shin Irmina?” Galiana asked.
Irmina avoided looking at Ancel at the mention of her title. “Yes, from a village in Ostania. Carnas, Ryne’s home before the shade massacred its people. She’s a killer, possibly an assassin.”
Several Dagodin reacted, placing themselves around the council members. A few started toward the woman.
“Of course she is,” Galiana said. “She’s also one of Jerem’s.”