As soon as they reached the room, Thia kicked off her shoes. “Pack up,” Jinaari ordered. “I want to be riding out of here within an hour.”
Her pack lay open on the bed where she’d left it. Thia dropped the scepter and her sock onto the blanket. Removing the circlet, she placed it back into the box and locked it. “You really don’t want to have dinner with Jynth, do you?”
“Not one bit. That woman made my skin crawl,” Jinaari said from his cot.
Thia dug out some traveling clothes before starting to unbutton her dress. Throwing the tunic over her head, she tugged at the sleeves underneath as she said, “Is that the only reason?”
“Yes. Why?”
Lifting her legs from the dress as it pooled around her feet, she shoved her arms through the sleeves of the tunic. “I hear I was talking in my sleep last night.” She looked at him as she grabbed for her pants.
“Later.” His face grew serious. “If we’re on the road, it’s less likely we’ll be overheard. I know you’ve got questions, Thia. I plan to answer all of them. Just not while we’re in the city.”
“I understand,” she said. Sitting down, she put her sock on while watching Caelynn and Adam direct Gnat to help with their gear. “How far is it?”
“Where?”
“To Helix.”
Slinging his pack across his back, he looked at her. “A week, by horse. Longer if we walk or encounter something. Why? Are you feeling sick?”
Thia shoved her feet into her boots, stamping the ground to get her heel past the stiff leather near the ankle. “I’m not sure. I had a headache this morning, but I could’ve drunk too much mead at dinner. Caelynn thought I felt warm when I woke up.” She raised her head, meeting his gaze. “Between that and suddenly speaking Olc in my sleep, I’d like to get there sooner over later.”
Jinaari nodded. “Definitely. Adam can’t transport the horses, though, and we might want them to get Gnat home. Grab your pack and let’s go. I’m not wasting time you may not have.”
Minutes later, she followed him down the stairs toward the stables. Gnat, Caelynn, and Adam were behind her. As they entered the courtyard, their horses were saddled and waiting for them. Paul stood at the bottom of the steps, watching.
“How’s Vadim?” Jinaari asked as they approached.
“He’s going to have a massive headache, but it was earned,” the commander said. Thia stopped next to Jinaari while the others went past her. Adam came back, reaching for her pack, and she handed it to him. “You won more than just a duel today, Jinaari. You and the Scepter both put Jynth on notice that her antics won’t go unpunished.”
“We don’t want war, Paul. None of us do. The purpose of the relics was to unite Avoch, not tear her apart at the seams,” Thia said.
“I understand. I think Jynth will, after a while. The rejection of the scepter was brilliant. Did you do that?”
Thia shook her head. “No. The scepter did. If it was meant for her, it would’ve allowed her to hold it. I needed to give her the opportunity, though. She wasn’t going to let go of the dream otherwise.”
“We need to get on the road,” Jinaari said. His hand pressed against her back, and she walked over to her horse. “Send a letter to Drakkus. He’s moved the Dragonspire chapterhouse to Cirrain, on Garret’s orders. Tell him we were here, and what happened. The Crown trusts him. He’ll be able to get what you need to reestablish trade routes with the rest of Avoch, provide for Tavisholm’s citizens if it’s needed. If we can, we’ll stop by for a longer visit once our business is concluded.”
Mounting up, she watched Jinaari shake the commander’s hand before heading to his horse. Paul turned, his face calm. “Whatever mission you’re on, may Garret guide your sword.”
“May Garret bring you peace, Commander,” Jinaari replied as he vaulted himself into the saddle. Grasping the reins, he nodded at her as he led them from the chapterhouse.
He set a quick pace, and Thia urged her horse to keep up with him. People stopped, bowing silently to them as they rode past. She felt them staring at her; some were openly hostile. Old wounds are the hardest to heal, she thought. “I feel horrible,” she said.
“About what?” Jinaari said without looking at her.
“I’m not sure what, but I think I should’ve done more for them. Reached out to the sick, made sure they were in good hands. Something,” she paused, “that showed I’m not just the Scepter. Not just here to rule over them.”
“We have to come through on our way back to Almair. We can spend a week or two, let you show them what you’re really like. Though there’s likely to be meetings with Jynth in the mix. I’m not going near her without one of you with me.”
“You don’t think I made her rethink her ambitions before the fight?”
She caught the slight upturn of his mouth before he answered. “No,” he said as he brought his horse to a standstill.
Twenty feet in front of them, barring the path to the city gate, stood Jynth. She wore the same dress as she did at the arena. A small group of people, likely courtiers or bureaucrats, stood with her. “Your Highness,” Thia said as they drew closer. “Here to see us on our way?”
Jynth glared at her, then switched her attention to Jinaari. “We are bereft to see you so anxious to leave our fair city. What possible threat to our lands calls you forth, that you ignore the demands of hospitality?”
“No threat,” Jinaari replied. “Rather, one of duty. Our friend, Gnat, lives to the south. He was instrumental in many ways to recent events. Honor dictates that we reward his bravery by escorting him home.”
A forced smile crossed Jynth’s face. “If there’s no threat, then allow us to celebrate Gnat’s deeds with you.” She raised her arms, gesturing to the crowd. “A festival, with dancing and feasting! Where bards can come and immortalize his bravery in song! We have long been without joy. The Scepter,” her face darkened as she glanced at Thia, “is back on the surface where it belongs. To hear the stories, first hand, of how it came to happen would make amends in our hearts. Would you deny us the chance to celebrate with you?”
“Of course not,” Thia said. I have to be the one to respond, force her to deal with me. “The Shield and I were just discussing the need to get to know the people of Tavisholm. However, a promise was made. We are, as he said, honor bound to see our companion safely reunited with his family. We will return, have no doubt.”
“If there’s no danger, why does Gnat require an escort? Could not your attendants go, allowing you the chance to remain? The road is not as comfortable a bed as one at an inn.”
“I don’t have the patience for this,” Jinaari muttered. Squaring his shoulders, he looked at Jynth. “Gnat saved my life, the life of my sister, and that of my brother. I will see him reunited with his kin. It is said that the Shield protects the Scepter. I cannot do that if she is not with me. Stand aside and let us pass. As Thia said, we will return.” Clicking his heels, his horse began a steady walk toward the group. Thia urged hers forward, keeping pace with his mount.
The dignitaries parted, leaving Jynth standing alone. Thia moved her horse to her right, making sure the scepter would be within reach as she passed. As they drew up next to the woman, she reached out and touched Jinaari’s leg. “You deserve more than her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replied. “She deserves more than me.” He put his heels to his horse, urging it to pick up the pace. Thia followed suit. By the time they went through the gate, they rode at a full gallop. She watched him turn toward the south, riding hard.
Staying on his heels, she waited until he slowed down to ride up next to him. “Do you still feel like staying there after we’re done?” he asked.
“Not everyone in the city can be as ambitious as she is. There are good people in there, ones that we should talk to. We can’t ignore them.”
“That’s why I told Paul to write to Drakkus. He’s got Elizabeth’s ear. I’m not saying things will improve before we get back there, but I doubt there’s little we could learn that Paul already doesn’t know.” He paused. “He said she’d been informed of my betrothal in that her overtures to my mother were rejected. Her behavior suggests that she still thinks the door is open. Us staying there could become problematic.”
“In what way?”
He glanced at her. “In that she’d demand to know who I was to marry. Finding out it was you may see us needing to define our relationship in a public way. Well,” he smiled, “a more public way than you did in the arena.”
Thia felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m not sure exactly why I did that.”
“I’m glad you did.”
She coughed, blushing even more. “You think it would mean we’d have to either announce a formal engagement, or publicly refute the betrothal. Am I right?”
“Yes. What’s between us is that, Thia. Between us. I never wanted the rest of the world to get involved, which is one reason I didn’t mention it before. That, and Mother said she planned to force Elizabeth to nullify it.”
“Is that what she said that made you rush us out of the camp? All you said was she wanted to have me arrested because I was part Fallen.”
“She told me about the betrothal first, then said some rather unsavory things about you being unsuitable due to your bloodline. It bothered me that she couldn’t see past your eyes, so I said I was done with all of it.” He looked at her, his dark eyes holding her fast. “I knew any marriage I had would be arranged, that there was a high probability I wouldn’t even meet them until the engagement was announced and a wedding date set. That it ended up being you, someone I know and care for, wasn’t expected. Any decision about it would be yours, Thia.”
Taking a few deep breaths, she turned her head forward. Ahead of them, the Taigh Forest stretched for miles. The evergreen trees ran up to the slopes of Mathaireil, disappearing into the snowy peak. “What did I say last night?” she asked, trying to change the conversation. Emotions ran through her, jumbled into a mass so tightly packed she feared to try to untangle them.
Reaching into his boot, he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to her. “You tell me. I don’t read Olc.”
She grasped the reins of her horse in one hand, grabbing at the paper with the other. Unfolding it, she recognized Caelynn’s neat handwriting. “Is dochas aca mise,” she read with a sigh. “It means, ‘I am their doom’.” Pausing, Thia tried to steady her nerves. “I’ve said this before, haven’t I?” she asked as she handed the paper back to him.
“You did, on our way into Tanisal.” He slid it back into his boot. “The phrase is important, but I don’t know why. I’m hoping Helix will.”
“Important how?”
“When I spoke with Garret, that phrase caught his attention. He demanded I tell him your exact words. Once I did, he ordered that I stay by your side, let him know if there’s anything else that makes me doubt you’re you.” He paused, then looked at her. “The phrase wasn’t the only thing that happened, Thia.”
“What did I do?” she asked, her voice cracking with worry.
“Your eyes changed. They were rimmed in red. Adam told me that he thought he’d seen them change when Caelynn was telling him what happened with Vadim.”
A cold shiver ran through her body. “Valtikka had red eyes,” she said. One hand went to the scepter that hung from her waist. The metal was smooth, but something felt off. “Do you feel anything from the shield?”
“What do you mean?”
“A presence, a sense that it’s alive?” The words rushed out of her mouth. At the same time, she felt a knot of fear in her stomach.
“No,” he said, “nothing. I’m used to fighting with it, knowing where it’s weak or strong, but that’s it. Why?”
“Ever since the first time I touched it, I’ve felt . . . something . . . from the scepter. Like it’s alive in some way. At first, I stored it in my pack. When we got to the cave to look for you, it felt right to take it out.” A wave of nausea hit her, and she pushed it aside. “The changes in my personality, the nightmare, it’s got me thinking. What if Lolc Aon did something to the scepter after she took it?” Her stomach spasmed, and she bent over in pain.
“Thia!” Jinaari exclaimed. Reaching over, he grabbed the reins of her horse. “Adam!” he called over his shoulder.
“I’m okay,” she lied.
She heard another horse approach. “What’s wrong?” Adam asked.
“I’m not sure, but we have to find a place to camp. Take Caelynn and Gnat, find somewhere. I’ll stay here with her.”
“On it,” the warlock said.
The pain subsided. “I’m fine, really,” she said. “I probably just ate something that doesn’t like me.” Her throat felt dry; the words scraping against rocks. She looked at Jinaari; his face shifted into the mask he wore at court.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a firm voice.
She drew in her breath, ready to argue with him, only to hear a stranger’s voice come from her mouth, “You’re smarter than you look, Althir.”
Thia shivered from the cold that ran through her veins as the presence took over. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“Thia knows who I am, even if she won’t admit it. I’m her. Or, rather, who she could be if she’d stop being so damn stubborn.” Thia felt her head tilt to one side and her mouth curl upward. “How do you tolerate it, Althir? Honestly, I believe you think it’s endearing.”
“I don’t know how you got inside her, but I will find a way to get you out.”
A dry, mirthless laugh tore from her throat. “Try. You don’t know anything, Althir. Your God does, but Garret didn’t trust you enough to tell you. I’m amazed at how much blind trust you have in others. I really am.” Pain seared through her, forcing tears to drip down her face. “You want her to live, don’t you? Then listen closely. Don’t visit Helix. He can’t do a damn thing to rid Thia of me. No one in Avoch can. The only one that could was the one who created me and you killed her with that pretty blade of yours.”
“You’re the Scepter, then.” Jinaari’s voice was calm.
“Not really, but I’m connected to it. And, now, to Thia. You can’t just throw me aside, Althir. Now that I’m part of her, I can make her feel anything I want. If you even try to separate us, I’ll kill her from within. Every single fear, anxiety, or terror she’s known will be amplified. By the time I finish, there won’t be a Thia Bransdottir any longer. I’ll be whole, with all the power she possesses at my disposal, while she’s nothing more than a broken sliver of a memory in my brain.”
Thia saw him reach across his body and grasp the hilt of his sword. Forcing the other presence aside, she screamed, “Do it!” Within the recesses of her mind, the other voice laughed, relinquishing control of her body as it hid. She slumped forward, grasping at the saddle horn with both hands to keep from falling. Her stomach heaved. She felt Jinaari’s hand grab her coat, steadying her as she vomited.
The spasms stopped. “Here,” he said, his voice low.
Opening her eyes, she saw the waterskin. “Thank you,” she whispered. Taking a drink, she spit out the liquid. She looked at him, “You should’ve killed me,” she said as she raised the bag to her lips again.
“Not yet. We’re going to find an answer. There’s got to be a way to get rid of whoever that was.”
“It was Valtikka.”
“From your dream? You’re certain?”
Thia nodded, handing the waterskin back to him. “I know her voice.” She watched his face shift, grow concerned. “What is it?”
“I need you to trust me.”
“I do. You know that.”
Jinaari shook his head. “Not like this. I don’t like keeping secrets from you, Thia. You know this. But I can’t tell you what’s next; where we’re going, what will happen. Not as long as she’s connected with you. That’s the only way to make sure she doesn’t know.”
Taking a deep breath, she chose her words carefully. “I understand. There’s a chance she’ll glean some of it but the only way to keep her off balance is if I’m in the dark. You’re an arrogant prick, Jinaari. But you’re also my Champion. You’ve kept me safe thus far; I know whatever scheme you and Adam come up with will be the best one. It won’t be without risk, but you’ve never deliberately put me in harm’s way.”
That’s what you think. Valtikka said in Thia’s mind.
“We found someplace,” Adam’s voice made her head look forward. His horse trotted toward them, deftly moving around the trees. “It’s not far. Can you ride, Thia? Or should I transport you?” he asked as he came closer.
Jinaari said, “We ride.”
The warlock nodded. “Everything okay?” he asked, his face concerned.
“I’ll explain later,” Jinaari replied, his tone short and curt. “When I know we’re not being overheard.” He handed the reins of her horse back to her. “Follow him,” he instructed, “I’ll be right behind you. Don’t make me chase you down.”
Wrapping her hands around the leather straps, Thia nodded. “If that happens, don’t hesitate to do what you have to do.”
“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”