"We will judge him by his future actions, then," Samarin said, in the pompous tone he slipped into occasionally—when he was reminding them he spoke for his Emperor. "The situation with the stolen mages is the more immediate concern."
"I thought a straightforward reconnaissance to start with. Given its sunken aspect and partially open ceilings, I planned to simply walk around the outside of the thing, to see if there was anything more illuminating than mage-studded ivy."
They paused then for breakfast and privy visits, and quibbling over whether they’d all go, or send an advance group. All the Kellian were clearly being extra-alert—even more so than they had during the walk north. Just because Herself seemed to think her monster uncle had been dealt with, and wasn’t lurking about waiting for a chance to attack, didn’t mean anyone else was going to be so silly.
Had Herself really given up her best chance of recovery? Kendall didn’t know whether to be angry, or to try to understand why being pinned to a wall made a monster any less a monster. And what did Rennyn’s choice mean for Kendall’s plans? She’d been going to stay until Rennyn was better, and had expected that to happen almost immediately after Rennyn’s obnoxious uncle had been killed, maybe even bringing forward their return trip to Tyrland. And what about the whole Tyrian winters would probably kill me thing that was a big part of why they’d gone to Kole in the first place?
Kendall noticed the Pest gaping at her, but he turned his head quickly away when she shot him a glare. She’d make a remark about how good an idea a muting spell had been, except that now she knew the Pest had spent the entire journey trying not to die she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him, rot him. Getting that strangling enchantment off him was probably the main reason he wanted to be Rennyn’s student in the first place—along with being the sort of person who was almost as much in love with magic theory as Sebastian.
And that was the answer to Kendall’s question. Rennyn was surrounded by people who thought the sun shone out of her whatsie, and it wouldn’t make any difference if Kendall wasn’t around. Kendall could go get the sort of training she wanted without having to worry whether Herself was being looked after. Though best to put off leaving until they were back in Tyrland, or she’d end up having to learn Foreign before she got to the useful stuff.
Lieutenant Meniar and the Imperial Smugness were talking glass golems now, listing off historic instances where mages had thought glass of all things was just the stuff to build servants out of. A lot more than Kendall had expected because apparently glass worked symbolically for animating constructs. Someone called Dia Dessal had ridden around on a glass stag. The founder of Kole had met the Dawnbringer in a palace whose inhabitants were all glass. Some mage who couldn’t walk had had a pet glass golem that fetched him anything he pointed at. Another had a little army of glass warriors. Some of the stories, like the one about Dia Dessal, were even set in Semarrak.
The debate about who should go look at cellars ended with Darian Faille and Sukata trotting off first, to make sure nothing would attack them just for making a circuit of the island, and everyone else trailing along in a slower second group, so they would at least see if the scouts got eaten by vine-monsters or glass golems.
Rennyn, riding along in Captain Faille’s arms, was looking about all interested and relaxed, even though golems meant a mage, and a pretty powerful one to have stolen all these others and made shields and walk-things and whatever. Typical of Herself to behave as if they were visiting a fair and not in deadly danger.
Captain Faille, after a murmur from Rennyn, turned so Rennyn could more easily talk to the Pest as they walked.
"If I observe you later while you sleep," Rennyn asked, "do you believe that will trigger the Ban that has been set on you?"
The Pest shook his head firmly, looking stupid-happy. He really did want nothing more than for Rennyn to work out his enchantment.
"I’m sorry it took me so long to realise there was something wrong, Fallon. I offer you no guarantees, but I am certainly going to try to help."
Was the Pest going to cry? He looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself, while making a feeble sort of gesture to acknowledge Rennyn’s promise. Would it be a bad idea if the Kellian taught him their hand signs? Would trying to write or sign an explanation make him choke, or would something happen to his hands instead?
"How is your head, Kendall?"
Kendall started, then muttered: "Fine. Hardly feel it."
"All those exercises lifting things weren’t such a waste after all," Herself said, with one of her more irritating sorts of smiles. "I’m very glad you managed it."
Kendall shrugged. There was no need to make a big deal out of that.
"You can have a break from your exercises, at least for today. Tell me tomorrow if the headache hasn’t gone."
Kendall refrained from pointing out that she’d had no intention whatsoever of spending her time turning leaves or bowls—or even grand necklaces—over and over just for the sake of it. Instead she pointedly looked ahead over the series of small interconnecting bridges to where Sukata and Captain Faille’s mother had reached the island that had supposedly been planted with vine-covered mages.
That island looked almost empty, with just a low rim of foundation stones marking the edge of whatever had been there long ago. A biggish building, that took a few minutes to circle, but there was so little of the structure left above-ground that the scouting party weren’t blocked from view at all during the circuit. They mostly kept back from the edge, but after completing the circle, Darian Faille walked right up and stood on the very rim, staring inward. When nothing boiled out to attack her, she turned and walked back with Sukata, alert but unhurried.
"The shield makes it difficult to untangle any other enchantments," Sukata said evenly. "But I located no detects, or any sign that the active mass of casting responded to our presence. There are at least two groups of constructs. Approximately twenty individuals. They did not appear to notice us, and I sensed no directed threat from them."
"Very well," Captain Faille said, and they walked on.
The whole thing felt unreal to Kendall as they continued over the small bridges, having trouble with the last because one side of the smooth arch had cracked and fallen away into the lake, so they needed to go single file. They must look a sight, with the Kellian picked out in a delicate glow by the early morning light, and Rennyn and the Pest swamped by too-large coats over nightclothes, and all of them a good deal mussed and crumpled after sleeping in piles of leaves. They looked more like they needed help themselves, rather than being rescuers.
Two tumbled pillars marked the ramp of the entrance. They passed it by, circling left, but only for a quarter turn about the island before Rennyn indicated that she wanted a better look and they walked right up to the edge of the exposed cellar, all the Kellian alert but detecting no imminent attack. Kendall couldn’t sort out anything from the swirl of magic that had become increasingly clear as they approached the island: a shield, yes, but even that felt tangled and complicated.
Craning on tiptoe, Kendall gazed over a cellar that was an even square in shape, a patchwork of open spaces and areas where ivy twined through ceiling grids of stone. Other than being everywhere, the ivy didn’t stand out particularly, but Kendall still shivered to look at it, imagining roots trying to burrow beneath her skin.
"I do not believe there was ever an upper building," Captain Faille said. "This has been constructed to be precisely what we see."