“When the Pathfinders came I didn’t know why they were there or who they were.” Mirza tossed little bits of wood into the fire. “I got all excited about the hounds they had with them. I thought they were Dagodin like Father used to be. I couldn’t understand why Father seemed so afraid.” He shook his head. “After Father told me the Pathfinders took Mother, I promised myself that I’d never let your kind hurt someone else close to me. For that, I needed to grow stronger.”
She understood. The idea brought a smile to her face. “At the same time, you intended to discover any weakness an Ashishin might possess. After all, since you Dagodin cannot Forge, how would you hope to defeat such as I?”
Mirza’s eyes narrowed and the stick stopped moving.
“You have every reason to be upset when it comes to the Tribunal’s actions, but your mother left the Pathfinders no choice,” she added.
The stick broke.
“You hate hearing it, but that does not change the truth. I have taught you long enough for you to understand what happened with her.”
“How do I know any of your teachings weren’t another set of lies?” Mirza’s voice was low in his throat.
“Have I lied to you before?”
“Have you? I’m not as stupid as some think. I know how the Tribunal twists reports to their benefit, even going so far as to use the Devout to spread the ‘truths’ they want told. I have seen some of my mother’s old books. They are different to the versions we were given in some classes.”
Galiana pursed her lips. Mirza liked to read, but he always appeared slower than most in class. She smiled inwardly. To keep so much to himself and yet play the role he did was a noteworthy accomplishment. Wisdom in the disguise of foolishness. The boy she’d known had changed much since Randane and even more so since Stefan gave him the Disciplines. “To answer you, no, nothing I taught was a lie. I can tell you this: Pray you never feel the suffering a Matus who can Forge experiences when they go mad.”
Mirza glanced over to Ancel, his expression softening. “Will he …”
“If he uses his power with the necessary caution, he can hold it off for a long time, maybe as long as I have. Living as we do is a nightmare, but we do what we must.”
“There has to be a way to stop it altogether.” Mirza looked up to her pleadingly.
She shook her head. “For us, there is no if, only when.” She refused to coddle him. When any Forger succumbed to the madness, the elements became more volatile. The destruction left in their wake tore at the fabric of the world itself.
The Pathfinders existed to lessen such occurrences. Disciplined unlike any others, they consisted of the minority who made no mistakes when wielding the essences. They survived longer and proved to be stronger than almost any other Forgers. In combat, few could stand before them. When dispatched, they took no prisoners.
“You’re worried about them too, aren’t you?” Mirza asked as if he read her thoughts.
She hesitated a moment before answering. Finally, she sighed. “Yes. They were at Eldanhill tonight. How many? I do not know. But if they have our trail it will only be a matter of time before they catch us.”
“What if we fled to Ostania?”
“Not a bad idea.” She hadn’t intended to reveal that was indeed her plan, at least not yet. “The problem is getting there before they can stop us. When deep in Doster, we will be fine for a while, but to cross into Ostania, we must take a ship from Damal’s Landing which means going through Ishtar. Even then, unless some captain wants to brave the Glowing Sea, we’ll land in Felan Mark.”
“We’ll be travelling through Tribunal territory almost the entire time,” Mirza blurted.
“Yes. Land with wards and Bastions able to pick out any strong Matii. Unless we find another way, they will catch us before we cross the Vallum of Light.” She and Jerem had come up with one way to make sure a portion of their people made it out of Felan. However, that plan involved Quintess and the Iluminus. The longer she was stuck here, the harder it would be to accomplish.
“Why don’t you Materialize us there? Can’t you manage now that it’s only us?”
“Materialization is not that simple.”
“It isn’t?” He shrugged. “You open a portal between one point and another, step through, and poof, you’re there. Sounds simple enough to me.”
Galiana smirked. “First, Forging takes a great deal of energy and mental strain. The risk of succumbing to the elements then is higher than at any other time. One of the main reasons why we teach Ashishin to restrict themselves. It’s even more so with Materialization. But even if the Matus could deal with the strain and had enough power, he or she couldn’t Materialize beyond the Vallum. It was built to prevent such a breach.”
“So,” Mirza pursed his lips while rubbing at the stubble under his chin, “an Ashishin could Materialize within or outside the Vallum but not cross it. Well, just take us to the Vallum’s entrance then.”
“And appear at the camp of the largest army the Tribunal possesses? Smart. Not to mention that it’s too great a distance.”
“Wait …,” the young man’s brow furrowed, “if what you say is true then whoever took Ancel’s mother must be on this side of the Vallum.”
“Either that or they made short trips until they reached Vallum’s edge then crossed.” She’d considered the same possibility as Mirza suggested when she tried to understand why the Heralds had failed to sense any powerful Forges or the shadelings.
“Fine, then take us to Calisto or even Torandil?”
She sympathized with his desperation to act. “Too risky.” Galiana shook her head. “The moment I Materialize, the Tribunal’s Pathfinders would know. Like I said, Granadia is littered with wards against such releases of Mater. Any powerful Forging will draw them to us.”
“You know, for all your power, you Ashishin are beginning to sound pretty fucking useless.”
Galiana never felt the Forge that knocked him on his ass.
“You should learn some fucking respect.”
She snapped her head around at Ryne’s voice. Leaning on one elbow, he had dark rings under his eyes, and his cheeks were so indrawn, his jaw-line stood out. Charra perked up momentarily before settling back down.
Mirza scrambled away, glaring at them both, but fear evident in his expression. After a moment, he muttered an apology.
“We need to leave right away.”
“Why?” Galiana shifted to get a better look at Ryne. His skin still had a faint pallor. “Ancel still needs more time.”
“In order to escape the Tribunal’s Pathfinders, I Materialized here.”
“You did what?”
“That isn’t the worst of it. The Exalted were with them.”
Galiana stood abruptly and began to pace, trying her best to fight down the urge to gather Ancel, put him on his mount and flee. After a moment, she stopped. “There is no way we can outrun them. Our only chance lies in making it to Harval.”
“First I must regain some strength.” Ryne climbed to his feet. “So does he.” He gestured to Ancel. The young man hadn’t moved. “The only place we can do so lies deeper into the Red Ridge.”
Galiana frowned. To what was the man referring?
“How do we get there if he can’t move?” Mirza asked.
“I’ll carry Ancel. It will be faster than tying him to his horse. The sooner we leave the better.”
“What of our trail?” Mirza stood. He bent to gather one of their saddles.
“Trying to hide it will not make a difference,” Galiana said. “They will have trackers with them. Ryne, are you sure this detour cannot wait?”