“He’s smarter than I thought he was, obviously. The other mages in the Secret Path respected his power—but he’s young by solsenti standards and complex spells frustrate him. Because of that, he tends to use the Raven ring more than his own magic unless he’s weaving an illusion.”
They came to a steep bend in the road, and Hennea quit speaking until they were on flatter ground. “I told you that the wizards steal Orders and wear them. Usually as rings, but there are some stones set in earrings and necklaces. He told me that some of the rings are painful to use, and some of them don’t work all the time. Most of the wizards can only use one ring at a time, but Volis has two he uses. The first one bears the Order of the Raven. With it he usually has an Owl, though I’ve seen him with a Hunter’s ring a time or two as well. You’ll know which one he wears when you see him, just look.”
“How well does he bear the Orders?”
“About as you’d think,” she said. “He seems to believe the Raven Order is just like his magic, except that he doesn’t have to use rituals.”
Seraph smiled in satisfaction. “Tell me, does he have a bad temper?”
As they got closer to the temple, Lehr stopped and bent down as if to touch the ground, but he pulled his hand back before it touched.
“What’s this, Mother?” he asked.
“What?” Seraph stopped, too, but she didn’t see anything.
“A taint,” said Jes. He must have been close to Hennea because she gave a nervous squeak.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks as if a foul substance was spilled over the ground,” said Lehr. “It smells bad, too.”
“Shadowed,” said Hennea in a small voice. “I’d wondered.”
“It comes from the temple,” said Jes. “It’s darker there.”
“It’s really there?” asked Lehr. “Why can’t you see it, Mother?”
“I don’t know why Ravens can’t see the Stalker’s influence, or why Larks can’t either,” replied Seraph. “I can understand why the ancients didn’t feel it necessary for Owls or Cormorants, but Larks and Ravens have to deal with shadowing.”
“Unto each Order…” murmured Hennea.
“ ‘Are the powers so given’—yes, yes, I know. It is still stupid. So Volis is most likely shadowed.” It was a very rare condition. Seraph had never dealt with someone who was shadowed, though her teacher had. He’d died before he taught her much about it because there was so much else to learn. She knew the Stalker needed some destructive feeling or act to gain influence and the amount of influence varied. The Shadowed had been different, her teacher said, because the Shadowed had invoked the Stalker’s power and welcomed the shadowing.
“Let’s go,” she said. “We need to get to Rinnie.”
They reached the temple finally, and Lehr tried the door.
“It’s locked,” he said. “Barred from the inside, I think.”
Seraph said something short and guttural, a summoning she would not have remembered if she’d stopped to think about it, and the door blew apart, reduced to splinters and bits of metal that covered the floor of the inner chamber.
“Careful,” cautioned Hennea. “Anger and magic don’t mix well.”
“Where will he take her?” Seraph knew that Hennea was right, but ever since the huntsman had come to tell her that Tier was dead she’d been more frightened than she’d been since the night her brother died—and fear, like grief, made her angry.
“Follow me.”
The temple was brightly lit with wall sconces, so Seraph had no trouble picking her way through the debris left by the door. But the room on the other side of the curtain was quite different than the one she remembered. It was a rectangular room with a low ceiling. There were no flying birds, no arched ceiling.
“Is this the real room or is the chamber with the Orders the real room?” she asked Hennea.
“Which do you think?”
This room was more in keeping with a building that had been put up in less than a season’s time. It was not too different from Willon’s store, and she couldn’t smell magic in it at all…but…
“The other one is real,” she said with conviction.
That room had been too detailed to have been an illusion set up just for her, but he couldn’t show that room to just anyone. This chamber looked just as the villagers would expect.
Hennea nodded her head. “As I told you, he is a very good illusionist.”
There was a small door set unobtrusively near the back wall and Hennea led them through it and down a narrow stairway.
“We’re close now,” Hennea said. “We should be as quiet as we can.”
“Rinnie’s been here,” whispered Lehr.
“I can smell her fear,” agreed Jes, already at the bottom of the stairway.
The stair ended in a short, dark hallway that smelled of earth and moisture to Seraph; but Lehr’s nose was wrinkled with disgust and he was careful not to bump against the wall. Light pooled by an open doorway.
Seraph brushed by the others to enter the room first.
Rinnie was there; like Alinath, she’d been tied and gagged, but Seraph didn’t see any bruises. Relief washed over Seraph; Rinnie wasn’t safe yet, but she was alive.
Several hundred candles were set out to form five circles on the floor with Rinnie in the middle of the center circle. The others each contained a bit of jewelry with a single large stone in the setting.
Volis was there, too, peering over a fragile-looking scroll laid out on a table almost too small for it. He didn’t look up as they entered. As Hennea had advised, Seraph looked at his hands and saw two rings. One of them should be Raven. Seraph focused her magic and looked at the rings. Raven and Owl, just as Hennea had predicted, but twisted somehow and empty. Wrong.
In the far corner of the room, Bandor sat cross-legged on the floor, rocking back and forth and muttering to himself. Owl-sick, thought Seraph. Unbound by Traveler laws, Volis had forced Bandor to do something against his will, and Bandor was paying the price.
She took another step forward and ran into a barrier of magic. With a quick flick of thought she made the barrier visible. It arched across the room, leaving Volis, Bandor, and Rinnie on one side of the barrier and the rest of them trapped on the other: trapped, because the barrier now covered the doorway and sealed them all in. At least she assumed they were all there. She hadn’t seen Jes in the quick glance she’d taken.
“Volis,” Seraph said.
Her voice trembled with fury; she’d thought she had herself under better control. She was so angry at him and at those unknown men who were like him and played havoc in their ignorance. They had stolen Tier, Rinnie, and Seraph’s peace; they would pay, all of them.
Painfully, she drew the serenity of her training around her like a cloak; it was Volis who had to lose his temper. When she was certain she was calm, she said, “What are you doing?”
“Summoning the Stalker,” he said, without looking up. “I’ve been expecting you—as you can see. Once my little Raven took flight I thought she’d bring you here. At first I was upset with her, but then I thought it would not be a bad thing to have an audience—as long as they didn’t become part of the ceremonies.”
Guardians were all but immune to magic—Jes could go through the barrier. It was just possible he could get through, retrieve Rinnie, and return across the barrier with her. But if he couldn’t, he would never leave her. Trapped there, he would try to protect Rinnie from Volis—and that was unacceptably dangerous. She’d send him there only if there was no choice.
She could tell that Jes had reached the end of his control because the temperature in the room was dropping rapidly.
“You are an ignorant fool,” she said coldly. “The Eagle is not the Stalker. The Stalker is what made the Shadowed what he was. If you manage to summon it, you will not be more—you will be nothing. The Stalker has no followers, because anything that answers to it becomes a thing just as it is.”