PRISONERS

Tears streamed down her cheeks at the pain in her back and she dropped to her knees. The whispers came in soporific waves, mesmerizing, and cajoling her to sleep, to give up.

She wanted to give up.

Yes, Karigan, sleep, they told her. Give yourself to us.

Even Duncan had quieted as if resigned to whatever end awaited him. She willed herself not to fall prey to the enticement of sleep. Even if she gave in, they’d threatened her with nightmares and torture. No, she would not have it. As they inched closer, she draped herself over Duncan’s tempes stone. The travel device was an arm’s length away.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Not that I mind you on top of me, but now is hardly the time to—”

The whispers, full of promises of sleep and torment, still lulled her as they streamed through her body. Her muscles relaxed against her will. Her eyelids grew heavy. She must not—

Idiot Greenie! Nyssa cried. Wake up.

The torturer’s voice shattered the whispers. Nyssa harangued her until she remembered herself. But she did not move. She lay there waiting. Waiting for the wraiths to close in around her.

“My lady Karigan?” Duncan asked.

Karigan tried to master her revulsion as dozens of tentacles reached out to touch her. Dozens more waited behind. The silver of the travel device glinted in the corner of her eye.

Sleep, Karigan, the wraiths commanded, so you may provide us with sustenance. We hunger.

“Get up! Do something!” Duncan cried. He sounded half-hysterical.

Greenie! Nyssa shouted so loud Karigan clenched her jaw.

The flat tips of the tentacles touched and adhered to her. Almost immediately she felt as if all her energy, all her life force, was draining away. She needed to act before she became totally incapacitated.

She reached and snatched the travel device. And twisted the two halves.

Where? it asked.

There was only one destination she could think of.

From darkness to darkness, she whirled. The tentacles remained anchored to her through the journey. When all stopped spinning, she remained sprawled over the tempes stone and clutched the travel device. She grew weaker as the wraiths fed, but then, over the roar of rushing water, she heard it, the whine of arrows. Their silver heads flashed and white shafts glowed in the moonlight as they descended. Wraiths fell away, one after another, until none stood.

She moved to use the travel device so she could return to the encampment, but an arrow drove through the fabric of her sleeve and pinned it to the ground. The travel device fell from her hand and rolled out of reach. Even so, she stretched her free hand after it, and another arrow descended and pierced that sleeve, also pinning it. She tried to free herself, but the wraiths had weakened her too much. She could only wait and hope the Eletians were in a merciful mood.

“They do not look pleased,” Duncan said.

She did not imagine they would. Their footfalls were almost imperceptible as they approached, but their voices were sharp, even in the melodious Eltish language. Duncan responded in a placating tone. She hadn’t known he could speak Eltish, but was glad, for it might very well save them.

She blinked as light blared in her face, and so could not see how many there were. She squinted and found herself at eye level with a pair of pearlescent armored boots.

“They are not happy with you, dear lady,” Duncan said.

“I had no idea,” she muttered.

“Yes, well, they are quite disposed to execute you on the spot, but they know the prince did not do so when we were here last. They are seeking someone with higher authority to decide what to do with you, but any good esteem they held for you may now be null, for the crime of bringing what they call ‘nothing creatures’ into the Alluvium.”

“It was the only way,” she said.

She decided that if they were just going to leave her sprawled like this, she might as well rest. She lay her head down on her outstretched arm and tried to relax her body. The tempes stone was not particularly comfortable under her ribs, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

She dozed without the threat of wraiths slipping into her mind and feeding off her magic, and even Nyssa had gone silent—Karigan felt nothing of her presence. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it felt like only a moment had passed when she was awakened by the arrival of more Eletians. An argument ensued, with Duncan interjecting.

Meanwhile, one of the newcomers knelt before her. She looked up and took in the moonlight cascading down his silvery hair and knew him. She had not seen him since the Blackveil expedition.

“Ealdaen?” she said.

“Galadheon,” he replied. “You do have a way of entering a place such that all must take notice. Your arrival at this time was not foreseen.”

“So glad I can surprise the Eletians now and then.”

She thought she detected a gleam of humor in his eyes, but his tone was stern. “You have committed offences with two trespasses this night. The second is by far the more serious of the two. What were you thinking by bringing evil creatures into the sanctity of the Alluvium?”

“My lord,” Duncan said, “it was the only way to—”

“Silence,” Ealdaen said. Duncan immediately shut his mouth. It was the first time Karigan had ever heard anyone address Ealdaen as “lord,” and she was surprised by how obsequious Duncan was.

“Your fate will be determined by Ari-matiel Jametari and the councilors of the Alluvium,” he told her. “I have been directed to oversee your presence in Eletia until then.”

“You could just let me go,” she said, “and I promise not to trespass again.”

“I could not, and such promises may be difficult to keep.”

She sighed. “I guess then that I’ll just lie here until your people decide what to do with me.”

A slight smiled formed on Ealdaen’s lips, and he pulled the arrows out of the ground, releasing her sleeves.

“I believe we can allow you more comfort than the ground. You are my guest until decisions are made.”

She winced as she pushed herself to a sitting position, and gathered herself to rise to her feet. She was still weak, her shoulder was numb, and she was afraid of causing the pain to surge through her back again.

“The wraiths,” Duncan said, “fed off her.”

“I’m all right,” she said, and forced herself to her feet. A small cry of pain escaped her lips.

“Injuries?” Ealdaen asked.

“My back hurts,” she replied.

Ealdaen spoke to the Eletian archers. One retrieved the travel device, and another the tempes stone.

“Don’t forget my, uh, leg bone,” Duncan said. “One of the wraiths had it when we were brought here.”

Karigan gazed at all the shrouds scattered about the bank of the falls, all that was left of the wraiths she had brought with her.

Duncan, following her gaze, said, “You brought dozens with us, dear lady, linked as they were by the mist they wrap themselves in.”

She closed her eyes and shuddered at the memory of tentacles adhering to her, sucking the life energy out of her. “I am glad the archers got them.”

“They did,” Duncan said, “and those that didn’t get pulled along with us here are greatly diminished. They will not be enough to keep everyone in the encampment asleep. Nor those in the pass, for that matter. Those who awaken should be able to slay them with little trouble. The strength of the wraiths lies in numbers.”

His words helped ease her concern, though it was unfortunate Second Empire would also awaken. Otherwise, Zachary’s forces could take advantage of the situation.

One of the archers found Duncan’s thigh bone and plucked it out from beneath a shroud.

“Careful with that,” Duncan told him.

Ealdaen offered Karigan his arm. “You may lean on me if it helps.”

She gazed up at him, this Eletian who had tried to kill her more than once over the mere perception she might be a danger to Eletia. But then that perception had been proven wrong and he’d become one of her companions on the Blackveil expedition and their guide among the ruins of lost Argenthyne. On that long journey, deep in the interior of Argenthyne castle, he’d saved her life from a would-be assassin. She took his arm and leaned on him.

He used the light of a moonstone to guide them along a meandering path that descended gently alongside the course of the water. When her legs began to shake from weakness, Ealdaen offered her a drink from a small flask he carried.

“Take a sip of the cordial,” he said. “It may help.”

And so she did. It tasted of winter and clearest ice, and yet it did not chill her, but warmed her. As the warmth spread through her, it seemed to restore some of her strength, and they continued on.

“I would not expect your gift to work properly for another day and night after the feeding of the anethna wraiths,” Ealdaen said.

She hoped the Eletians gave her no reason to need to use it.

They continued down the path into a wood of majestic pines. Moonlight fell through their branches and cast the trunks into great living columns of pale gray. They must be very old, she thought, to be so great of girth and so tall. Green lichen drooped like whiskers from boughs that were larger than many trees.

Ealdaen seemed pleased as he watched her take in the giants. “These are as nothing compared to the Grove.”

She’d seen a grove of Argenthyne and knew he spoke truth.

They broke off the main path down a side trail illuminated by paper lanterns, and crossed a stream using stepping stones. The light of the lanterns glimmered on the purling surface of the water. The banks were carpeted in thick moss and twined with the sinuous roots of cedars. Ferns filled out the understory and quivered at the touch of a breeze.

The path bent around an enormous boulder and ended at . . .

Karigan did not know what to call it, for she could not tell if the structure was grown or built, or some combination of both. Cottage? Yes, it was a small cottage of live plantings—trees, vines, a mossy roof. From the outside, there were no hard angles, only those created by nature. Homey light flickered from windows to welcome them.

“This is the guest cottage where you will be staying,” Ealdaen said. “You may wander the grounds, but do not step beyond the stream. I cannot promise you your safety if you do. Please be welcome and feel free to partake of the food and drink provided. I will send a healer to you to tend your injuries.” He bowed slightly and returned up the trail, some of the guards falling in behind him. The others disappeared into the woods, no doubt to keep watch on her. The one bearing the tempes stone and leg bone headed into the cottage, and once he deposited those items, disappeared into the woods as well.

“You are being accorded a great honor,” Duncan told her.

“Because they didn’t kill me right away? You do know we’re prisoners and not guests, right?”

“ ‘Prisoner’ might be too harsh a word,” he replied.

Karigan walked to the door of the cottage and Duncan hurried after her.

“What I mean,” he continued, “is that Lord Ealdaen is one of the most eminent of the ancient Argenthyne Eletians, a great warrior, too. He fought by King Santanara’s side when the king took down—” and here Duncan whispered, “—Mornhavon the Black.”

Karigan pushed the door open. “He never mentioned that. Nor did any of the others.”

“The others?”

“On the Blackveil expedition. I traveled with Ealdaen and others across the D’Yer Wall.” Six Eletians, and six Sacoridians, it had been.

Duncan’s eyes went wide. “Dear lady, you truly need to catch me up.”

She stepped into the cottage and found it to be, indeed, partly grown by nature, and partly built of stone and wood. Candles glimmered in glass lamps that had been blown into twisted spirals, birds, flickering flame shapes, and fish. A fire burned brightly in a fireplace made of boulders that looked as if they’d naturally tumbled into place there. Moss and lichen still grew on them.

Karigan spotted food that had been left on the table for her, and she realized she was ravenous. She’d eaten nothing since breakfast. She sampled crisp golden wine and honey cakes that tasted better than any she’d ever had. There was also a bowl of hot savory stew filled with root vegetables and mushrooms and dumplings. A half wheel of cheese and bread filled out the meal.

Yes, she and Duncan were prisoners, but their prison could have been far worse.