“Am I to understand there is an entire collection of Paladin books at this library you speak of?”
Sachiel’s sharp question made Halvor flinch. “Yes. My uncle was studying them. At least, that’s what he always claimed. He was a scholar. But, obviously, now I realize it was more than that.” He sat perched on the edge of the chair as if preparing to jump to his feet and flee at any moment, his spine so straight, my mother would have cried tears of joy to see such proper posture—had she not been sitting beside Inara, her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, glaring at him, as if she held him responsible for not knowing what Barloc had been planning to do.
The fact that Mother was the one comforting Inara during the meeting my father had called was unbelievable enough, but even more incredible was that Inara was letting her. Something between them must have drastically changed while I was in Visimperum. Either that, or whatever had happened to her out in the gardens, the frightening episode when her face had gone blank and she’d stopped responding—which she’d obviously lied about—had affected her so deeply, she hardly even noticed who was doing the comforting. I was still reeling from the fact that she had lied to me. I hadn’t even dared question her because I’d been so stunned—and hurt.
“Why would a library in your world have Paladin books?”
“I’m not sure. My uncle didn’t like lots of questions. He expected quiet obedience, and eventually rewarded hard work and study with answers. He’d promised me many answers after this expedition.”
Sachiel’s eyes narrowed, considering.
I’d hoped after the fiasco at dinner the night before, they would leave him alone. But when Inara and I had come back into the citadel, we’d seen him walking morosely toward the morning room, and she’d gone to him, all too eager to leave my side. He’d said he’d been summoned for more questioning, and she’d offered to go with him, leaving me no choice but to follow or return to my room alone.
“What name did you say he took here?” Sachiel continued her questioning.
“Barloc?”
“No, his family name—his surname. You name yourselves differently. What were his other names?”
“Ignulac. His full name is Barloc Ignulac.” Halvor shrank back in his seat when Sachiel actually snarled in response to this revelation. Even Raidyn, who stood beside my father, winced.
“Ignulac?” my father repeated. “Are you sure?”
“He’s my uncle—my mother’s brother.” Halvor’s knuckles were white where he gripped his legs. “Yes, I’m sure.”
My father spat a word in Paladin that I suspected wasn’t one for polite society based on Sharmaine’s flinch. “Sachiel, what can you tell us about any suspicious families near Fire Lake?” My father watched the other general closely.
“There is one family I remember,” Sachiel said through clenched teeth. “A family strongly gifted with rare abilities—that were part of the Infinitium sect.”
This time, Loukas cursed underneath his breath. A palpable chill descended over the room, like the visceral reaction I had when the name was brought up the night before … though I still didn’t understand what it meant.
“They lived on a secluded farmstead on the edge of the forest, and groups of them would often go off into the woods for extended periods of time—you can imagine what they were searching for. They always returned, unsuccessful. But there was a rumor I heard when I was growing up—about one of the patriarchs of the family taking two of his sons and a handful of other family members decades before I was born; they left and never returned.”
My father’s hands clenched into fists. “That could be Barloc’s connection.” It wasn’t a question, but Sachiel still nodded.
“Everyone in Ignulac believed they all died in the wilderness—killed by rakasa. At least that’s what my grandmother told us. But what if they didn’t? What if some of them actually succeeded?”
“Adelric,” my mother finally spoke up, “can you explain what you’re all talking about? Is Ignulac a place or a name?”
Sachiel’s eyes narrowed as she pointedly said, “It’s a place. It means ‘fire lake’—and it’s where I grew up.”
“I see.” Mother returned her glare for glare, some of her old fire returning at last—and for once, I was actually glad of her ability to make nearly anyone cower. “And what is the Infinitium sect?”
“The Infinitium sect is a fringe group of Paladin who believe our worlds never should have been separated—that the Paladin had the right to rule over the humans because of their superior power and abilities,” Raidyn answered quietly, as if he bore the shame of their beliefs on his shoulders. “They often send groups of believers out to try to reach the gateway without being discovered by patrols and attempt to reopen it so they can come to Vamala and use their power to rule over your people.”
When the meeting had begun, my stomach ached from hunger, but at Raidyn’s words, that emptiness transmuted into acidic dismay. My mother drew back, stricken, and then turned her glare on Father. “Why did you never tell me about this?”
Before he could answer, I burst out, “Were the Five who succeeded—the ones who started the war—part of that sect?”
Everyone turned to me and I flushed.
“Yes, actually,” my father responded, skipping my mother’s question. But the look she gave him clearly meant that discussion wasn’t finished. “They were caught attempting to get to the gateway by a patrolling garrison. The Five were all jaklas who had murdered other Paladin to strengthen themselves. They killed eight more Paladin in the patrol that caught them before they were subdued, imprisoned, and taken in to be tried and judged. But they were inordinately powerful, with rare gifts that enabled them to escape. The second time, they made it to the gateway and opened it—as you know.”
We were all quiet for several seconds, absorbing what he’d said.
“So … Barloc’s grandfather must have been part of the Infinitium sect, from Ignulac. And that’s why he knew how to rip the power from—” Sharmaine cut herself off, flushing red, her eyes dropping to the ground when Inara stiffened.
“There’s no way to know for certain,” Sachiel said.
“What does that other word mean—the name of the sect?” Mother asked.
There was a pause, and then Father said, “It means unlimited power.”
I shuddered. Raidyn’s gaze lifted to me, no doubt sensing the emotion rising in my gut, boiling its way up, scalding my heart, my throat, my mouth.
“These secret books your uncle had.” Sachiel shook off the reverie that had taken hold of her momentarily, her expression hardening once more as she turned back to Halvor. “We must assume they were brought by members of this sect from our world to yours. What’s in them?”
“I don’t know.” Halvor stared down at his hands.
“How can you not know? Didn’t you just tell us that you studied the Paladin with him—that you learned our language from him and his books?” Sachiel’s voice rose again until Halvor cowered on the couch. I’d never seen him so diminished, so submissive. Not even by my mother at her worst. What his uncle had done to Inara had wounded him deeply, if not broken him entirely.
“Sachiel, that’s enough,” my father interceded. “Can’t you see how upset the boy is?”
“We don’t have time to be delicate about this,” Sachiel argued.
“He knew a Paladin,” Inara suddenly cut in.
“Excuse me?” Sachiel’s eyebrows lifted.
Inara swallowed and looked up, her jaw set. “Barloc. He knew a Paladin. I don’t know if it was his grandfather, but it was an old man.”
I stared at my sister. “How could you possibly—”
“I saw him.” Though Inara no longer had Paladin fire in her eyes, they still flashed when she lifted her chin and continued. “I saw him as a young boy, talking to an old man with glowing eyes. Telling him that our worlds were never meant to be split apart. That those with power should rule over those without.”
“You saw him?” Halvor’s voice was almost as quiet as hers.
Father and Sachiel shared a glance heavy with concern before Sachiel turned back to Inara. “Was it when he took your power? Did you see anything else?”
“I … ah … I’m not sure. I only remember seeing him with the old Paladin.”
She was lying again. What was my sister hiding?
“If this is true, and the jakla did know a Paladin, who we must assume was part of the Infinitium sect, this is cause for even greater concern.” Sachiel’s mouth turned down at the corners.
“Why?” Mother asked, her arm still firmly wrapped around Inara, who had gone back to staring at the ground.
“As Adelric said, Infinitium means ‘unlimited power’—which is partially because they believe Paladin should rule over those with less or no power. But also because they are willing to do whatever it takes to gain as much power as possible. Including performing the type of horrible rituals your uncle did to this poor girl.” Sachiel paused and then barreled on. “There are rumors of other things they believe themselves capable of doing if they amass enough power—things even more terrible than what he’s already done.”
I shuddered at the thought of Barloc somehow doing things that were worse than ripping someone’s power out.
“Do you think he might go back to the library?” Raidyn asked Halvor, though his concerned gaze was on me. “Now that his plan to get into Visimperum failed?”
“Maybe? I don’t know where else he would go. I don’t think he’s ever traveled … before coming here.”
“Then we must try to beat him there,” Raidyn declared.
Loukas, sitting on a chair closer to the fire, turned to Raidyn, dismay on his handsome face. “You want us to go farther into Vamala? When you know what they did to your pa—the last time Paladin were here?”
Raidyn winced at Loukas’s reminder about what had happened to his parents—two other Paladin who had never returned home before my grandmother shut the gateway at the end of the war, leaving many Paladin trapped in Vamala, including my father. But he didn’t back down. Loukas’s warning about Raidyn’s intentions from that day by the luxem magnam rose once more—when he claimed to be worried that Raidyn was using me as a way to get to Vamala to see if his parents were still alive—writhing like a snake in my belly.
“I think Raidyn is right,” Sachiel agreed.
“To what end?” Loukas shot back.
“To stop the jakla!” the female general cried out. “So we can go home!”
Silence followed Sachiel’s pronouncement. My parents shared a glance. I forced myself to look at them, not Raidyn. Why had he suggested such a thing? If it had been anyone else … then the hard knot of distrust that had finally loosened last night wouldn’t have resurfaced.
But it was back, and bigger than ever, crushing my hope that perhaps he truly did care for me as more than a means to an end. Loukas’s theory that Raidyn hoped his parents had somehow survived and lived on, hidden in Vamala all these years, twisted my stomach as I listened to them argue.
“If he has books that taught him to perform the ritual—perhaps we can find a way to undo it?” Inara spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was an achingly long pause before Sharmaine gently said, “I wish that were possible. I truly do.” Her eyes were full of regret but Inara didn’t look up to see it, crumpling deeper into my mother’s embrace instead. “But there is no way to undo what he’s done. Plus, we still don’t know for sure that is where he’ll go. He may return here and attempt to get through the gateway again. He still thinks Inara opened it on her own, using only her power—which he now possesses. He never learned that Zuhra is an enhancer and that it was only their combined power that opened it, did he?”
“No, he doesn’t know.” Halvor also watched Inara, but she’d squeezed her eyes shut, so she didn’t see. Her hands were clutched together in her lap, but they still shook.
“So, he thinks himself capable of opening the gateway with the power he stole. He claimed to be going to Visimperum to find others who felt the same way he did—he must have been referring to other members of the Infinitium sect. Perhaps even family, if the Paladin he knew was his grandfather as he claimed. We have to assume there’s a high likelihood that he will return here.”
I expected Sachiel to argue with Sharmaine, but instead, she nodded.
“You make a valid point. So perhaps it would be best if we split up—half staying here to defend the citadel and half traveling to this library in case he does return there.”
“Splitting up is a risky move,” my father said.
“So is leaving the gateway unmonitored,” she countered.
My father finally stood, crossing to the couch where Mother and Inara sat, and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Let’s take the afternoon to think about it, and we can decide later before we start night watches again. After the burial.”
Sachiel looked as though she were about to say more, but at the reminder that Adelric still had to bury his father, though her lips pursed, she remained mercifully silent.
“I believe Sami was preparing food for you all—it should be ready by now,” my mother said. “I’m sure you’re all famished after such a long night.” She pulled Inara to her feet and guided her toward the door, Father right behind them.
The rest of the room cleared out, except for Loukas and Raidyn. I still stood by the window, the sunshine streaming through the clear glass pane warm on my back.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Raidyn looked over at his friend.
“You know as well as I do that it would be better if I go find food for myself later. Last night was bad enough.”
“That’s not true, Louk. If anyone seemed tense, it was because of what happened yesterday.”
He glanced to me, his unique green-fire eyes burning. I was suddenly acutely uncomfortable, as if I were eavesdropping on a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear. A part of me had hoped to have a minute alone with Raidyn, but instead, I glanced away from both of them, then followed the rest of the group to the dining hall that finally had a use with all of the extra bodies staying in the citadel that needed food—something I could still barely wrap my mind around.
“Zuhra, wait,” Raidyn spoke up, but I only paused for a moment before forcing my feet to continue to carry me toward the door.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I called over my shoulder. “I think you two need a minute by yourselves.”
I didn’t look back as I hurried out into the hallway, but I heard Raidyn say, “Did you do something to her?” and Loukas respond, “Of course not.”
Last night, I’d been convinced Loukas had been wrong about Raidyn—his accusation that Raidyn was only interested in using me to get to Vamala in hopes that his parents survived and that he could find them. I didn’t know much about friendship and knew even less about the relationships between a man and a woman … but I’d thought surely no one would spend hours comforting and soothing a person, at the loss of their own chance for sleep, if they were merely using that person. Would they?
After he suggested we travel to the library in Mercarum to try to find Barloc, my doubts had returned, however.
I was no longer hungry, and I didn’t want to go sit beside Inara with her lie still between us, so I headed back outside, rather than going to the dining hall. I didn’t really have a destination in mind, but found myself wandering toward the stables, where the gryphons were still in their stalls. The building sagged against the earth, squatting like an aged crone, stronger than it looked, having weathered many storms, just as I’d assured Sharmaine.
The door groaned, shuddering open beneath my hand when I yanked on it.
Inside, the stables were a mix of heavy, menacing shadows skulking between dazzling puddles of sunlight from the skylights. The door shut behind me with a resounding thud, encasing me in darkness. I stepped forward into the nearest square of sunshine and glanced around.
Silence.
No rustling, no huffing or clicking, or any noise to indicate the gryphons were awake—or even alive.
It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that it might have been dangerous to come out here alone. Barloc couldn’t have snuck back in somehow and killed all of them during the night—could he? What if he’d hidden himself there—waiting to attack the next unsuspecting person who walked in?
“Good morning!” I called out brightly, forcing myself to act like nothing was wrong. Surely, if the gryphons still lived, they would react to me.
But there was no response.
Nothing but oppressive, chilling quiet.
My heart clawed up into my throat, gagging me with terror. Did I try to sneak back out, now that I’d just announced my presence? Or did I turn and run?
I was too frightened to do more than slowly slink backward, praying I made it to the door and escaped in time. To at least scream and alert the Paladin on patrol that something was wrong. I thought of Naiki, Raidyn’s beautiful gryphon, and Taavi, my father’s—their bright, intelligent eyes, snuffed out forever—and had to blink back futile tears.
Before I could stretch out for the handle, the door groaned once more, and daylight flooded around me, illuminating me like a target.
I spun to face the dark silhouette of a man, his face hidden by shadow, blinding sunlight haloing his head and body.
“No!” I cried, stumbling back to escape—but I was too late. He sprang forward and grabbed my arm.