Stretching, Thia waited for the last of the sleepy fog to lift from her mind. I didn’t realize I was that tired, she thought. Opening her eyes, she saw Jinaari sitting in a chair near the fireplace; the stiff brush in his hand moved rapidly across something.
“What time is it?” she asked.
He didn’t look up. “Late afternoon, by my reckoning.”
Thia pushed herself up on the bed, “Did you get any sleep?”
“Some,” he replied. “How are you feeling?” He raised his head and looked at her.
“Better than I have in weeks. I’m glad Adam brought us here. I needed a place where I felt safe after what happened.”
He nodded and set the brush aside. Thia saw him pick a sock up off the table, dropping it into a small bucket of water. “Have you remembered anything else about the dream? It’s possible that there was something that happened before you were pulled in. If we can pinpoint that, I can keep an eye out for it, pull you out of the dream before it starts.”
“No. I remember making camp that night, having you and Caelynn both try and convince me to eat something, going to bed and listening to the rain hit the canvas of the tent. The next thing, I was on my horse, riding in the storm with the rest of you. I suppose I should’ve known then that it wasn’t real; I don’t remember waking up, breaking camp, or the rest.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said as he wrung the sock out. “We’ve done those things so often that they can blur together. What concerns me is that it happened after you were asleep. Watch has always been about making sure we’re not surprised by an attack from outside the camp. Now we need to watch you sleep, too.”
She fell back, her pale blonde hair fanning out against the pillow. “Don’t. Please. It’s bad enough that the four of you watch me when I’m awake. I’m not going to sleep well if I know that’s going on, too.”
“I’ve watched you sleep for months, Thia.”
“That’s different,” she said. “With the other three, it’d be creepy.” She heard him start to scrub the brush against the sock again. “What are you doing?”
“My laundry,” he replied. “My socks were caked with mud. When you dried us off, it solidified into stuff that’s harder than rocks.”
“You wanted us to get dry. My way was faster.”
He looked at her, a small smile on his face. “Faster isn’t always better.”
Someone knocked on the door, leaving her response unspoken. Jinaari rose, motioning her to stay where she was, and walked to the door. “Yes?”
“It’s Volk. I’ve brought you and the Scepter some dinner.”
Thia threw off the blanket and grabbed her clothes off the floor. Throwing on the tunic, she reached for the pants as he said, “Just a moment.” When she was done, he unlocked the door and opened it.
Volk walked in, carrying a tray with dishes on it. “I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but I didn’t want your food to get cold.” He placed the tray on the table.
“We appreciate that,” Thia said.
The man bowed, then walked back toward the door. He stopped in the opening and looked back at them. “Your companions have rested. When you’re ready, they will meet you in the main room. It’s my understanding there are things they need to speak of that I don’t need to hear. When you enter, a barrier will go around that room. No one else will know what is said.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Jinaari locked it, then pointed at the table. “Let’s eat,” he said, “then we’ll go see what they have to say.”
Anxiety tied her stomach into knots, but she nodded in agreement. She walked barefoot across the smooth wood floor and sat in a chair. “I am hungry,” she said.
“That’s good,” he said, sitting opposite of her. He moved the brush and sock, placing them on the floor. “If that changes, though, I need you to say something.”
“I will,” she promised. “I know I push back sometimes, but I know you have a job to do. It’s just,” she paused, “I spent so much of my life hiding. I’m not used to being the center of attention, not like you are. It’s hard enough when it’s necessary, when I’ve got to be the Daughter of Keroys or the Scepter. When it’s just the four of us, I want to relax. I want to be who I really am, the person you all know. If I know you’re watching, I start thinking I’m doing something wrong.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t notice, then.” Grabbing one of the plates, he pointed at the other one. “Eat. I’m not entirely convinced that whatever it was that made you sick is gone. You can heal yourself again, and your appetite is back. Those are encouraging signs, Thia. You’re right in that we need to figure out what it was, though. If we don’t, it could come back. Given Keroys’s warning, I’m concerned about what a second bout would do to you.”
“I am, too. It didn’t bother me when it was mild. When I couldn’t heal myself,” she paused, then continued, “I was terrified. I haven’t been that scared since I found myself face to face with Lolc Aon. Magic’s been the one constant in my life; the one thing I knew would always be there when I needed it.”
“You have me.”
She smiled. “I do now. I didn’t when I was ten and Papa died. Or when I was sixteen and hated by every other acolyte because Keroys personally blessed my rites to become his priestess. I’ve only had my magic to rely on up until I met you. I trust you, more than I’ve ever trusted another soul, and that took work. You know this. I can’t unlearn almost twenty years of behavior in less than one.”
“You’re doing better than you think, Thia.” He reached for a goblet and drank before continuing. “But I do hear what you’re saying. The goal is to keep you safe; it always has been.”
She sighed. “That’s part of the problem right now. I learned to trust Adam and Caelynn, grew to love them as family. I was angry when he told me about the spiders, same as I was at you for not telling me I was Marked to begin with. You both had reasons for staying silent. Ones that are understandable. This bit with the scepter, though . . . one of them should’ve said something after it was given to me.”
“We’ll hear what they have to say, decide what our next steps are. I don’t want to leave them behind any more than you do. He’s my brother, too. The trust has to be reforged, for both you and I, before we leave.”
She tore apart a roll, swirling it into some gravy on her plate. “How did you two meet Caelynn? She said that you and Adam had been running together for a time, but she’d only been with the two of you for a year or so before I showed up. If their parents made the scepter, they’ve known each other for centuries.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, I can’t remember many details. We were in an inn, in Dragonspire. Kathra and Flink had joined us, and we’d stopped on the way to a cave. I think there was a troll bothering a caravan route or something. Caelynn was playing at the tavern, I remember that. During one song, Adam got quiet. When she was done, he went to talk to her. The next morning, she rode out with us. I asked him, and he said he thought she’d be useful. I trusted his judgement.”
“What happened to them?”
“Who?”
“Kathra and Flink. I remember you saying something about Flink’s death, and that Kathra felt responsible.”
Jinaari nodded. “It was a year later. We’d heard rumors of monsters near a village, so we found the caves they were said to hide in. It was far more elaborate than we expected. A local mage had gone mad, created a dungeon full of monsters and traps. Luring locals into it with the promise of gold was his idea of amusement. We opened the wrong door, and a swarm of Dangreth came after us. More than we could handle. I called a retreat, got Adam and Caelynn out. Flink was keeping the door open, giving us time to leave, but Kathra refused. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her out, then moved so the door closed between him and us. There’s no way he could’ve survived.” He took a drink, then said, “We found another route, took care of the mage. On the way out, we found a second entrance to that room. Caelynn mixed up a powder. We filled a bottle with it, threw it into the room. Kathra hit it with a spell. When it exploded, it sent out a gas that choked the Dangreth to death. We found Flink’s body near the door. He’d taken out two dozen or more of them before they killed him. As soon as we left, Kathra went back to her church. She blamed herself for his death. Which is wrong. Had she stayed in the room, she would’ve been killed like he was.” He looked at her, a small smile on his lips. “What is it with you healers and being stubborn?”
Thia smiled. “I could say the same about paladins and arrogance. We take our vows seriously, too. It’s one thing if it’s a natural death. We all face that at one point. If it’s natural, we are charged to ease their passing, give them peace. But if it’s one we could’ve prevented and didn’t, that’s different.”
Jinaari nodded, “I can see that.” He rose and held out his hand. “We’ve stalled long enough. The food’s gone. We may not like what they’re going to tell us, but we need to hear them out. We gave our word.”
Taking his hand, she rose. “Let me get my shoes on,” she said, her voice quiet. He’s right. We may not like what they tell us, but we’ll know more if we listen. Sitting here isn’t going to solve anything.
She grabbed her pack off the floor and tossed it onto her bed. Pulling out some clean socks, she sat and began to put them on. Jinaari sat across from her, doing the same. His belt lay nearby. “You’re not taking that?”
“No. Make sure to leave the scepter here, too. I’m not spilling their blood in a Goddess’s home. Not unless I break a nose, that is.” He looked at her. “I’m not planning on doing any fighting, Thia. They’re my family, too, and I care about them. If I have to, to keep you safe, I will.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m ready. For what, I’m not sure. But sitting here, blindly guessing, isn’t going to give us answers.” She rose, and he did the same.
“Wear your mask, if it helps. Watch their body language, see if anything indicates they’re not telling us everything. And don’t be afraid to ask questions. You’re likely to think of some I don’t. You’re smarter than Adam. You proved that in the scheme that freed me. The more questions we ask, the more answers we get. I hope.”
“I understand,” she said. “I’ll follow you. You’ve got the room key.”
Jinaari turned, and she followed him out the door. Once in the hallway, he stopped long enough to lock the door. “You good?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Thia followed him down the hallway. The sun had set, but they could see perfectly. Looking up, she tried to pinpoint the source of the light. “Don’t,” Jinaari said. “We’re in the home of a God. Rules don’t apply here. If Lexi wanted light, she’d get it.”
Ahead of them, the light changed. It flickered, causing shadows to dance in the hallway. Jinaari stopped, and she came alongside him. The room was well lit beyond the fire burning in the fireplace. A table, with four chairs, sat in the center of the room. Goblets and small plates filled with sliced meats and cheese, along with some fruit, were within easy reach for anyone who sat.
Across the room, Caelynn and Adam stood behind two of the chairs. The bard’s face was tear stained; Adam’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Are you two ready to talk?” Jinaari asked.
“We are,” Adam replied, glancing at Caelynn. Her head nodded, but she stayed silent. “Are you ready to listen? Without judgement until we’re done?”
“We always have been,” Jinaari said. Thia felt his hand on her back, urging her forward. She walked into the room, heading for the chairs closest to the hallway. “The two of you chose to keep secrets.”
Pulling out one of the chairs, Thia sat. Jinaari sat at her right, while the other two sat opposite of them. “I didn’t always trust the two of you,” Thia said, “because I didn’t know you. My experience taught me that there were few people in Avoch who would see beyond my lineage. But I’ve never kept something from you intentionally. A few things,” she glanced at Jinaari, “I kept between the two of us at first. You’ve learned them all by now.”
“Not why you ran from the camp,” Caelynn said, her voice barely a whisper.
Thia looked at her. “I had someone play with my mind while I slept, and I was certain what I saw was real. Including the three of you and Gnat being killed. I was fighting back, running in terror and grief, when I left. I don’t know who it was, or how they did what they did. When Jinaari found me, I thought he was the illusion. I didn’t believe he was alive. He reminded me of how I broke free from the drugs Lolc Aon gave me, shattered her hold on me.” She smiled. “That’s when I realized he didn’t have his boots or armor on. The Jinaari in the dream did. I broke free.”
“That must’ve been the bright light we saw,” Adam said.
“You’re caught up,” Jinaari said. Thia was startled at how direct his tone was. “Thia and I will stay quiet, unless we have a question, until you say you’re done. I meant what I said before. If I don’t feel we can trust you any longer, we will leave you behind.”
“We understand,” Adam said. Taking a deep breath, he folded his hands on the table and looked at the two of them. “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now we’re both a lot older than we look.
“We grew up in Tavisholm, when it was about an eighth the size it is now. My father was a gem cutter; he had a gift that let him see the perfect shape of a stone before it was polished. Caelynn’s mother,” he glanced at her, “was a blacksmith. Not an ordinary one, though. She could work with any metal.”
“Silver and gold require different skills than steel or iron,” Caelynn said, her voice soft. “Mother was smaller than her brothers, who ran the smithy, and excelled at softer metals. Ones that required a gentler touch.”
Adam cleared his throat and continued, “One day, two people came to both shops. They stayed hooded and cloaked, so we never saw who they were. Our parents, though, met with them behind closed doors. As soon as they left, her mother and my father started working on a special commission.
“We didn’t know each other, not yet. I had been given notice that I was to study at Helmshouse. Caelynn had gotten her acceptance to a bardic college in Tanisal, the best in all the kingdoms. When my father had cut the crystal, I went with him to the smithy. Caelynn was there, with her mother. We watched as they joined the shaft to the head, and the scepter came to life.”
“What do you mean, ‘came to life’?” Thia asked. I’ve felt something from it, but it didn’t feel alive. Or did it?
Caelynn looked at her. “When the two pieces came together, it glowed. I remember hearing a ‘click,’ and the entire scepter was bathed in light. When it faded, it was a single object. I don’t think it had any sentience to it. Not then, anyway. I know you’ve said you’ve gotten impressions—feelings—from it, Thia. It wasn’t meant to have that ability.”
“Our parents told us that two of the Gods had come and commissioned the scepter. It would be one of three symbols, and that we would unite under a single kingdom instead of endless warfare. The crown was made in Almair; the shield in Dragonspire. Made by craftsmen and women from those cities. Once all three were in Tanisal, people would be selected by the Gods and the symbols themselves. And from that moment onward we would be Avoch.
“The next day, we prepared to leave. Everyone from our families would go, both to see the scepter handed over to its wielder, and to see Caelynn and myself off. Few left Tavisholm, let alone to go to such prestigious schools, and the entire city came out to wish us well. Cappen, our king, rode at the head of the caravan. He went with us, to either accept a symbol or swear allegiance to those who were chosen. He told his soldiers to stay home; confident in the truce that had been hammered out. No one would attack him or try to steal the scepter. Or so he said.
“We made it into the canyon, and one of the wagons became stuck. By the time we got it free, it was twilight. Cappen ordered us to make camp.”
“Everyone was so happy that night. I was asked to perform, and I chose a song few outside of Tavisholm knew. It was the one that the representative of Óran Sgoil heard me sing that made him speak with my parents. I saw Adam,” Caelynn looked at him, and put a hand over his, “but that wasn’t his name at the time, as he wasn’t a warlock.” She looked at Thia. “It’s been so long, and he’s made vows that I will respect, so I can’t tell you what it was. He was watching me, and that’s when I knew my soul was never going to rest unless he was with me.”
“I felt it, too,” Adam said, and Thia’s chest tightened at the sadness he put into the words. “She finished the song and left the firelight. I followed her. We found each other on an outcropping of rock about thirty feet above the canyon floor. We just sat with each other, not speaking. We didn’t dare. We were both to go to places so far apart that we knew it’d be years before we’d see each other again. If we ever did.” He grabbed a goblet, swallowing the contents, and continued. “It was then that Lolc Aon led her forces into the canyon, attacking the encampment. We watched, unable to do anything, as our families were herded before her. She stood there, waiting, while the wagons were searched. They found the scepter, brought the box to her. After she opened it, she asked to meet the artisans. Our parents were the first two to die.
“I tried to gather up the small bit of magic I could at the time, ready to do something—anything— to stop the slaughter. To keep the scepter from Lolc Aon’s grasp. A voice behind us told me to stop.”
Caelynn said, “It was Lexi. She told us now was not the time, to follow her or we’d be found. Be killed like our families were. She led us here, gave us time to grieve. I don’t know how long we stayed. It could’ve been a week; it could’ve been months. We were both so tied up with guilt that it took time for us to do more than try to comfort each other.
“After a while, though, Lexi came back. She said we needed to go to Tanisal and Helmshouse, as planned. That only by study, honing our skills, would we honor their memories. She also promised us that we wouldn’t be parted forever. One day, Adam would come out of Helmshouse with someone he called a brother. Someone else would come later. One that not only I saw as a sister, but who would call me the same. That we’d find our family, because those we choose to love as family are as dear or more so than the ones we had blood ties with. Only after we found them would the scepter come back to the surface.” She looked at Thia, tears in her eyes. “That’s why I was so happy when you asked if you could say you were my sister. Because I knew I’d finally found my family, and it was complete again.”
“The other thing Lexi told us about the scepter coming back was that it would bring about a change. One that would reverberate not just on Avoch but among the Gods themselves.” Adam looked at Thia and Jinaari, his face intense. “She did not, however, tell us what it would be, or that Thia would wield it.”
“When you pulled it out of the box in court, Thia, my heart stopped,” Caelynn said. “I finally had my family again, one that I knew loved me as much as I loved them. I had Adam. I’ve spent every minute of every day since then trying to figure out what this change Lexi mentioned would be. When you started to get sick, I prayed that it wasn’t the thing we were told was coming.”
“When we got here, Lexi berated us for not telling you everything earlier,” Adam said. “She said, and I quote, ‘You must trust them as much as they trust you. If you honestly think they’re going to turn their backs on you because you’re centuries older than they are, or because you were prevented by me from dying with your families, then you don’t know them like you should. You don’t trust them. And, yes, I prevented you from dying. Neither of you were skilled enough to take on that many trained warriors, let alone Lolc Aon herself. If you want to say they’re family, you must be honest. Even if it hurts like hell.’ I asked her about Thia’s illness. She’s as unsure as Keroys is.”
“Why lie about going to Cirrain first, Adam? And what was in the book you borrowed from the archives in Almair?” Jinaari asked.
Thia watched the blonde man’s face closely. Amazement crossed his features. “How did you know about that?”
“I have my ways, you have yours.”
Thia cleared her throat. “What he’s saying is that he and Amara have a way to communicate where he can see things she has seen. I don’t understand the magic behind it, but it works. We saw her give you the letter in the archives, put a book into your bag. You then told her you still had to go to Cirrain. Yet you told us you went there first. So, were you lying to her or to us?”
“Her. I’d been to Cirrain. It’s closer to the monastery than Almair, and I knew I had the stores to make that jump and still get to Tomil’s palace. When I left, I went to our suite at the Green Frog. As to the book I borrowed, I left it with Wilim, with instructions to send it back in a week.” He paused, then kept going. “When Gnat mentioned Helix, I was suspicious. The description given to us by Bryant made me even more certain. The book confirmed it. Helix was a teacher at Helmshouse when it first began. His tower was destroyed two weeks after I arrived. I thought it meant he’d died. He didn’t. He can’t.”
“He’s a death mage,” Jinaari said, leaning back in the chair. “The same one that cursed the farmer in the story you found, Caelynn. I’m right, aren’t I?” He looked at the bard, and Thia watched her closely. “Either you need to study up on Old Tongue, or you didn’t want to tell us the real story in the journal. Why?”
She shifted in her seat but didn’t look away. “I know how devoted you are to Garret, Jinaari. He was an absolute ass to give that girl to Helix as payment of the father’s debt. Women aren’t chattel to be traded away. I don’t care if he is a God; that was wrong. I see you as my brother. I know you’d never do that normally, but you’ve always done everything Garret demanded of you, so I hesitated. Thia’s had enough problems. She needs to trust you the most out of all of us. If I said that out loud, I was afraid it would shake that trust.”
“Caelynn,” Thia said, “how did you find Adam again?” I know what Jinaari said, she thought, but I want to hear her version.
Adam cleared his throat. “We weren’t completely out of touch. At first, we were. She had her training to do, as did I. When it was discovered a warlock – one well known in Helmshouse – was behind the Corrupted gaining a foothold in the Paladins of Silas, a team was dispatched to bring him back. The Solar knew I wouldn’t return if I found Caelynn again, so she kept me behind. I managed to send her a gift, with a trusted friend.”
“The other half of the emerald from your tower.” Jinaari said.
The warlock nodded. “Yes.”
“I don’t understand, what are you two talking about?” Thia asked.
“Adam had an emerald in his tower. Caelynn had the other half in her room in the Green Frog. I don’t understand the magic behind it, but that’s how we were able to let you both know about Alesso. And how she told us about Samil.” Jinaari glanced at Adam. “It’s gone now, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Caelynn cleared her throat. “I got the gift, and the note. It let me know he was Adam now and gave me hope. I followed the instructions he gave me. Only used it that night to let him know I got it, that I was safe, and I’d try to leave before the city was attacked. After Tanisal fell, I started wandering Avoch. I’d take up residency in a city, stay for a year or ten, then move on. I’d play in any inn that would let me, constantly scanning the crowd. I was at one, in Cirrain, when I overheard someone mention a warlock who’d left Helmshouse and attached himself to Garret’s Paladins somehow. The guy was drunk, but he described Adam perfectly. I spent the rest of my time there, listening closely, then decided to move on to Dragonspire. I’d picked up that was the location of the chapterhouse he’d been staying at. One night, in a fairly seedy tavern, four people came in. They couldn’t have been more different, but they had a sense of familiarity with each other. I caught a glimpse of Adam’s face before he sat. I wasn’t certain, but I thought it could be him. So, I played the last song I’d ever sung for my family. The song I’d sworn never to sing again until I found him. About halfway through, he turned around and smiled.”
“Is that it?” Jinaari asked.
They both nodded. “Unless you’re interested in the details of our reunion that night at the tavern, yes. That’s it.”
Jinaari looked at Thia, and she laughed a little. Turning her head, she grabbed a goblet and said, “You’re older than dirt. Your parents made the scepter. And you’ve not told us this before because . . .?”
“We didn’t know how to,” Caelynn said. “Adam and I have spent centuries thinking about that night, how we lost the scepter—”
“Stop that,” Thia interrupted her. “You weren’t at fault any more than I was with my father’s death. You were young, untrained, and wouldn’t have stood a chance against Lolc Aon. The only reason I did was because I’ve got Keroys’s Mark on my back. And I’m a fully trained priestess of his.”
“Thia’s right,” Jinaari said. “While it would’ve been good to know about the scepter’s history before now,” he looked at both of them, “nothing you’ve said tonight would’ve changed how I saw you. Or how Thia does. The secrecy, the hiding information . . . that’s why I wasn’t sure about you. This stuff? We’ve all seen stranger things in the last year.”
Adam took another drink. Placing the goblet down, he said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have hidden the information about Helix. Honestly, it wasn’t out of any strange need other than I was concerned about Thia.” He looked at her. “That sickness you’ve had is like nothing I’ve ever seen. I wanted to confirm it was Helix because, honestly, he’s been alive so long he’s the best shot we have at finding out what it is. Or curing it.”
“That’s not a problem any more, Adam,” she said. “When Jinaari caught up to me, when I used the one spell, it purged whatever it was out of my system. I was hungry when we got here, haven’t been coughing. I even had Jinaari cut me so I could try healing myself.”
“Did it work?” Caelynn asked. The hope in her voice warmed Thia’s soul.
Holding up her arm, she said, “See for yourself.”
Adam and Caelynn leaned back in their chairs, letting out sighs of relief. “That’s some of the best news I’ve heard in weeks,” Caelynn said.
“There’s only one thing that would be better,” Adam said, looking at Jinaari.
“What’s that?” Jinaari stared at him.
“If I’m leaving here with my family or being told to stay behind.”
Thia glanced at Jinaari. I trust them, but does he? Does he believe what they’ve said?
“One condition,” Jinaari said as he picked up his goblet.
“Name it,” Adam said.
“From now on, I get to call you old man.”