Tobin’s palms were sweating despite the cool mist drifting around him. It was one thing to risk your life when you believed you were serving the Bright Gods and your people, pleasing your father, and if you died it would bring you honor. It was another to take that risk when you knew that dying would get you nothing but dead and disgraced.
He wiped his hands on his thighs and gazed through the branches at the settlement’s dinnertime business, waiting for Jeriah to come out. Jeriah always checked to be sure his charger was settled for the night—almost always. With a pang of loss, Tobin hoped the person who had bought Fiddle would recognize his worth and treat him well.
There were only a handful of soldiers left in the camp; the rest were out hunting for the escaped sorceress. And for Tobin, probably. That was what he’d been hoping for. What he hadn’t expected was that the peasant boys would take their places as perimeter guards. They looked more alert than the soldiers. Tobin sighed, and a small hand patted his arm comfortingly.
He looked down at Regg and smiled, despite the surge of guilt. Guilt, because if something happened to the child because of his need for a Charmer he’d never forgive himself, and because of what he planned to do. He fought the emotion. After his all-too-public escape last night, he couldn’t accomplish this without a Charmer, and the children were the only ones who’d followed him from the camp.
Tobin had seen for himself that Makenna feared working difficult magic. He’d been certain that if he just kept walking she’d give up her stubborn refusal to face her fears, but she’d outstubborned him. He sighed again. Then Regg’s comforting hand tightened on his arm. Following the boy’s gaze, Tobin saw Jeriah toss a laughing comment to the perimeter guard and leave the camp, going toward the horse pasture.
“Into the bag,” he hissed at Regg, pulling up the flap of the pouch attached to his belt. “Start the spell as soon as he gets near enough, and if anything goes wrong, kick me in the ribs and then save yourself. Understand?”
Already half in, the little goblin nodded briskly and burrowed into the bag. Tobin saw the flap stir and knew that Regg was watching Jeriah’s careless approach. He walked slowly, shoulders hunched, a troubled expression on his face. Oh, Jeri, I’m sorry! As he neared the grove where Tobin was concealed, Jeriah hesitated a moment and shook his head, as if to shake away an odd thought. When he walked on, his scowl had relaxed. Regg’s spell at work? There was only one way to test it. “Jeri,” Tobin whispered. “Don’t shout! Over here. I have to talk to you.”
Jeriah jumped and looked around. “Tobin? Where are you?”
“Here.” He signaled, and his brother came to him. Would he have done so, even without Regg’s enchantments? He’d never know, and his throat ached with the grief of it. He’d have gambled his own life on his brother’s love—he had no right to risk the goblins’ lives on it. He hoped desperately that someday he’d have a chance to explain, that Jeriah would understand. But for now he’d rely on Regg’s insistence that Jeriah trust his brother, regard all his suggestions as reasonable, and do what he said.
“Tobin, what have you done?” Jeriah’s voice was anguished. “You had it all fixed, and then—Why?”
“I have reasons, Jeri, good ones. I’ll explain it to you when…if I can, but I don’t have time now.”
Jeriah looked puzzled. “But you can’t ever come back. You’re wanted.”
“Yes, I know.” It was the sight of the spell working on his brother, not the knowledge that he’d gone from hero to outlaw, that tightened his throat.
“Jeri, I need to get into Master Lazur’s tent and borrow his spell books.” Jeriah shook his head sharply, and Tobin spoke quickly, soothingly. “You know I was working for him? Well, in a way I still am. I’m trying to get rid of the goblins and the sorceress, but I have to borrow his books to do it. You don’t think he’d mind lending them to me, if it would accomplish his goal, do you?”
“No.” Jeriah blinked in confusion. “No, of course he wouldn’t. I’ve been talking to him, and I don’t think there’s anything he’d object to, if it helped the relocation. He’s been the moving force behind the relocation from the beginning, and he’s only a fifth-circle priest. Talk about determination! If he’d been in charge of the rebellion, we might have had a chance.”
“He wasn’t part of your rebellion, was he?” asked Tobin, surprised.
“No. In fact, he’s succeeded in convincing me that reform of the laws will have to wait until after the realm is safely resettled behind the wall. It won’t do much good to reform the government if the barbarians kill us all, will it?”
“I suppose not,” said Tobin. Part of the reason Master Lazur was so persuasive was that in some ways he was right. It was only in the muddled middle ground that he was so very wrong. “But for now, I need to borrow his spell books. To help get rid of the goblins, remember?”
Jeriah frowned. It was clear something troubled him, despite Regg’s spell. “But how do you mean to get into camp? The guards will stop you.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Tobin told him. “And pull my cloak over my face. If we’re talking, I don’t think they’ll stop me.”
“You’re probably right.” Jeriah’s frown cleared. “Why not let me get the books for you?”
It didn’t take the nudge in his ribs to tell Tobin that the spell wouldn’t last once Jeriah was away from Regg.
“That wouldn’t work as well,” he said, thinking fast. “Besides, I have a favor to ask you. Fiddle has been sold to someone in Brackenlee. Would you…”
They strolled through the perimeter without a check, chatting about horses. It got them through the camp as well. Why not? Master Lazur’s aide escorting some knight to his tent was no doubt a common sight. As they neared the tent, Tobin took a deep breath. “Jeri, if we see Master Lazur, I’m going to capture him. I’m afraid he might not understand that my taking his books is for his own good. It’s simpler this way, you see?”
He waited, sick at heart, for his brother to struggle against the spell, but Jeriah said cheerfully, “You won’t have to fight him. He’s not in there.”
Thank the Bright Ones! “Where is he?” Tobin asked, lifting the tent flap. He walked in and Jeriah followed. Several hard blows struck his side. Regg! But what—
Jeriah gasped and stiffened, staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. The spell was broken! Tobin leapt forward, punched his brother’s jaw, and caught him as he fell.
He jerked the tent flap closed, dragged Jeriah inside, and dropped him, reaching for his knife to cut a strip off his shirt for a gag. “Regg, what happened?”
“I don’t know.” The goblin scrambled out of the bag. His small face was beaded with sweat. “As soon as we came into the tent my spell just went away.”
“Never mind. You did fine. Wonderful. Can you get out on your own?”
“Of course,” said the child. “But how will you—”
“That’s my problem.” He hoped he could come up with a solution when the time came. He stuffed the strip of cloth into Jeriah’s mouth and cut another to tie over it. “But it’ll be harder for me if I have to worry about you. You understand, Regg? You won’t stay around and try to help me?”
The boy shook his head. “I’m not as silly as Onny. I understand. I’ll see you outside.” And he vanished.
Jeriah stirred, moaning behind the gag. Tobin grabbed his brother’s arms and lashed his wrists with the cord he’d brought for this purpose, though he’d prayed it wouldn’t be necessary. But now he was glad it had happened. He’d rather fight Jeriah honestly than fog his mind with spells. He tied his brother’s ankles, rolled him over, and flinched at the pain and betrayal in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jeri, I’m so sorry.” He touched his brother’s face, and Jeriah cringed as if he’d burned him. “Oh, Bright Ones, don’t. I’m not crazy, Jeri, I’m doing this because…because…” The impossibility of explaining washed over him. If he had time and freedom and Jeriah’s trust, he could have made his brother understand, but he had none of those things. “I’m sorry, Jeri. I know what it looks like, dishonor, betrayal, and maybe it is, but sometimes…” A wry smile twisted his lips. “Sometimes honor doesn’t get it done. Forgive me.”
“He may,” said Master Lazur’s quiet voice behind him. “But I doubt if I will.”
Tobin rose and turned, slowly. The priest’s gaze was as cold and steady as the crossbow pointed at Tobin’s heart.
Tobin had to swallow before he could speak. “I wasn’t—”
“Spare me the protests, boy. I’ll learn all I need with a truth spell. It will be interesting to discover the source of this girl’s fascination. I know you’re too sensible to throw your life away for a pretty face.”
The face that appeared in the doorway behind the priest’s back didn’t look pretty, even though she’d washed away the dried blood—it was grim and wary as an assassin’s. Tobin had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.