42. LEAVING SOMEONE BEHIND

Galen’s story

Outside the ruins of Senera’s cottage

Sometime after Relos Var left

The air crackled as a mirror-smooth gate of magical energy irised into being and discharged … someone. It wasn’t Relos Var. It wasn’t, in fact, anyone that Galen had ever seen before.

The man was far closer to his age than that of the wizard’s. He was darker in complexion, but his tightly braided hair was lighter in color. Any resemblance ended there: this newcomer was far better-looking than Relos Var.

Since Anlyr didn’t react by reaching for a weapon, Galen assumed that this was yet another previously unknown minion of Relos Var’s. And Galen mentally added a footnote to his mental picture of Relos Var that included the knowledge he apparently picked his henchmen for aesthetic value as well as talent.

At least, Galen thought that until Anlyr said, “Lord Var? Veils, I almost didn’t recognize you. How many centuries has it been since you looked like yourself?”

The man chuckled. “Too many.” But he didn’t change back to looking like the wizard Galen recognized, nor did he seem inclined to change shape to look like anything else.

He did seem pleased with himself.

As Galen stared hatefully at him, Relos Var turned to Sheloran and said, “Good news, Your Highness.”

It was all Galen could do not to lunge at the bastard, because there was no way in hell that any information delivered with that tone could possibly qualify as “good.”

“Your mother has agreed to my terms. So you and your husband will both be returned, as promised.”

Galen pressed forward as much as he dared. “What about the boy? What about Qown?”

Any pretend friendliness vanished from Relos Var’s eyes. “Just the two of you.”

Sheloran scoffed. “The hell you say. My mother knows we had a child with us, and she knows we were traveling with Qown. She wouldn’t have forgotten them.”

“She didn’t,” Relos Var agreed, “but compromises were made.”

“You son of a bitch!” Sheloran slammed into the field of magical energy as she rushed forward.

Relos Var turned away from Sheloran then, the first time since they’d arrived where the focus of his attention shifted to Galen. “You want them as well? Perhaps we too can arrive at a compromise.”

Galen found himself snarling. “I thought we didn’t have anything you wanted.”

“Not true. You have the truth.”

Everyone paused. Var and Anlyr might’ve been the only two people in the clearing who were remembering to breathe.

Then Tave picked up a clod of mud and threw it at Relos Var. The toddler wasn’t strong enough to reach Var, but that wasn’t stopping him from giving it his full effort. “You’re a bad man!” Tave pronounced.

Var didn’t seem much offended. “Yes,” he agreed. “So I’ve been told.” The wizard turned his attention back to Galen. “As I was saying. You have the truth. There’s something going on. First Devors, then the Lighthouse, now Senera’s cottage. One unexpected event is an accident. Two is an unfortunate coincidence. Three is a plot. And all of this besides Vol Karoth escaping his prison.” He paused and then said in a very soft voice, “Which you already knew.”

Galen and Qown might have given it all away right then, but Sheloran saved them. “Of course we did!” she snapped. “Do you think the empress couldn’t tell the instant that thing escaped? Or did you really buy that story about her marching her army down to Khorvesh to deal with the morgage?”

Relos Var studied her, lips pursed. Then he turned back to Galen. “Tell me what’s going on.” Relos Var threw Tave an unkind look. “I’ll let one of them go.”

“The boy doesn’t know anything!” Galen protested.

“Oh, Lord Var understands that. He’s including the child to be mean,” Anlyr provided.

Var glanced at him sideways, but didn’t dispute the man’s statement.

The wizard’s expression changed in an instant, turned amused and friendly. “I admit when I put Qown in your path, I harbored some faint, wistful idea that the two of you would be a good match. I have my moments of sentimentality. But I didn’t think you would be the one seducing him.”1

To which Anlyr said, “Pretty sure he hasn’t, yet.”

Relos Var threw the mimic an irritated glance. “I didn’t mean sex.” He turned back to Galen. “You like him. Yes, I know you tried to pretend that he doesn’t mean anything to you and it’s adorable you thought that would fool me, but let me assure you, it didn’t. So let’s acknowledge that you do, in fact, care what happens to Qown. Perhaps there’s enough there for a longer-term relationship. Something real. It wouldn’t surprise me. And the only coin you have to spend to gain him back is telling me what really happened on Devors.”

Galen blinked at him.

Under other circumstances, in a different situation, Galen might have believed him. A younger Galen—one who hadn’t been murdered by someone he trusted, one who hadn’t been betrayed and used by practically everyone—might have thought that Relos Var was many things, but typically a man who kept his promises. In his desperation, he might have forgotten Jarith’s warning.

But this Galen knew better. This Galen knew that Relos Var was capable of betrayal. These were the last few moves of the whole game, the crescendo to a musical score that Relos Var had been building for over a thousand years. This was when he was most dangerous.

Now, Relos Var would lie.

Now, Relos Var would kill.

Now, Relos Var was capable of anything.

Darzin had once laughingly told him that there were no honest men, just fools or people smart enough to save up their lies for the moments when it mattered most. This was that moment.

Galen was taking too long to answer. Relos Var’s expression darkened. “I tire of this.” He started to make some movement, cast some spell.

“Fine!” Galen said. “I’ll tell you.”

“Galen, no!” Sheloran slammed a fist against the magical wall.

“Why not, Red? I don’t have any idea what was going on, anyway. What do I care?” Galen swallowed with a desert-dry throat. “We were chasing the Lash, and we did, all the way to the pirate haven, Da’utunse. Except when we arrived, we discovered the Lash wasn’t human. The Lash was a Daughter of Laaka who’d been using Grimward to puppet a crew of dead pirates, because hey, turns out people are a lot more comfortable with pirates attacking ships than a kraken doing it. One puts the merchant ships a little more on guard. The other brings out the Quuros armada and all its wizards.”

“Are you fucking joking?” Anlyr spat.

Relos Var blinked rapidly, a distant look on his face as though he was reexamining everything he knew about the Lash and how he knew it. “I see. Yes, we did make certain assumptions, didn’t we? Continue.”

“We found out she was planning to attack Devors, because—” Galen shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Apparently, her girlfriend—a dragon?—was acting weird, and the Lash wanted to cure whatever it was that was wrong with her. We managed to get there ahead of the Lash, barely, but somehow she got through the wards, and … and it was a mess. She was … she was gigantic. I don’t have anything to compare it to, but the legends didn’t make it sound like kraken were that big.”

“Only their oldest matriarchs.” Relos Var’s gaze turned contemplative. “How old must she be? I would never have thought one of the Laaka would study our people closely enough to counterfeit such a role. How extraordinary.”

“If you say so,” Galen snapped. “But in the middle of all that, her girlfriend, that dragon, decided to show up, which is when everything really went to shit.”

“Really.” Var’s mouth twisted. “And what did this dragon look like?”

“Black. A bunch of colors, really, but black in basic theme. Starry eyes.”

Var’s look of distaste slid over into disappointment. “You were doing so well too. But now I know you’re lying. If Drehemia had really been there, there’s no way you would have seen her at all.”

“Galen can see in the dark,” Qown said.

Var turned to his former apprentice. “What was that?”

“Galen can see in the dark,” Qown said again, louder. “It’s his mage-gift. He could see her just fine.”

Var pondered something in the middle distance for a few angry beats. Probably whether or not he could trust either of them to tell the truth. He must have decided yes, because he then turned back to Galen. “And then what?”

“And then there was a gigantic fight, and we’re lucky we survived it,” Galen said. “End of story. Getting your rock back was out of the question.”

“I would certainly say so.” Relos Var gave a short laugh, almost one of relief. He turned to Anlyr. “What do you think?”

“I think the idea of a Daughter of Laaka impersonating a pirate is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous shit in my day.” Anlyr shrugged.

“Maybe so,” Sheloran added, “but several thousand Quuros soldiers, including High General Qoran Milligreest, witnessed it, so you might confirm it with them before you call us liars.”

“There’s no need,” Relos Var said. “I believe you’re telling the truth. And besides, your story is, as they say, too ludicrous to be a lie. You’re both smart enough to make your lies believable.” Var smiled at Galen. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Galen cursed under his breath. Arrogant bastard.

Relos Var started to cast a spell. Galen even recognized that it was a gate spell because Var had been casting them so often. Then he paused. He closed his fist, ending the spell prematurely, and turned back to Galen.

“There’s just one problem with it.”

Galen clenched his jaw and said nothing.

“None of that,” Relos Var continued, “required you to find a way to protect your mind from telepathy.”

Galen’s breath hitched. He’d hoped Relos Var would be too intrigued by the story to remember that part.

Unfortunately, he had.

Galen never thought he’d be grateful for the years of practice he had dealing with his terrible father, but if Darzin had taught him anything, it was this. How to lie to a man who wouldn’t settle for merely being right but who had to win.

The trick was to give them the truth for free and make them fight for the lie.

Galen turned away, not hiding the sullen look on his face.

“I have no time for this,” Relos Var reminded him.

“She controls minds!” Sheloran shouted, which was such a perfect interruption that Galen could have kissed her, and their own preferences in bed partners be damned. “He said it would protect us!”

Var narrowed his eyes. “Please clarify the owners of all those pronouns.”

“The dragon,” Galen said. “Whatever she did when she breathed on people, it made them lose their minds. Start fighting each other. That’s the she.”

“And the he?”

And here was the part Galen had been waiting for, which had the bonus of not even being an actual lie, just a giant, steaming pile of omissions. “D’Lorus,” Galen growled. “We didn’t want to trust him, but what choice did we have?”

“Galen, no!” Qown’s voice was choked.

“D’Lorus,” Relos Var repeated. “Thurvishar D’Lorus?” He turned that question to Qown, who looked so haunted and guilty it was an answer in and of itself. Galen wasn’t even sure that Qown’s reaction was faked. If one didn’t know better, it would be easy to assume that Galen had broken, that he was telling the whole story rather than this carefully edited version. It was possible Qown thought the worst of him, hypocrisy draped all over betrayal like a new bedspread.

“Gadrith’s son? Surely you’ve heard of him.” Galen knew damn well that Thurvishar wasn’t related to Gadrith—that he was in fact related to Relos Var standing right there—but it was a piece of information Relos Var had no reason to think Galen knew.

“Thurvishar did this so you wouldn’t fall to Drehemia.” Var didn’t ask it as a question, so Galen didn’t respond except with a shrug meant to be interpreted as a yes. His voice went soft and dark. “And who else was he protecting?”

“Janel.” Qown was the one who answered that question. “And…” He winced. “And Senera. They said they had a way to cure Drehemia’s insanity. Which seemed like the best way to get Drehemia to stop attacking us.”

The expression on Relos Var’s face didn’t change.

Galen’s stomach flipped. Relos Var already knew.²

“There’s a way to cure a dragon’s insanity?” Anlyr sounded utterly mystified. “Is that true?”

“Yes. It’s true,” Relos Var said, although he looked like it caused him physical pain to admit that fact.³

Anlyr’s confusion cleared. “Oh! So that girl—”

Relos Var made an angry slashing motion. Anlyr stopped talking.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Qown whispered. “I knew you’d be so angry.”

The fear in Qown’s voice made Galen’s gut clench. It was a tone he knew well: the tone of a child who had been horribly treated, who’d learned not to be too loud or too bright or too visible when his caretakers were angry. Galen still didn’t know who was responsible for that. If it had been Relos Var or someone else—someone earlier from Qown’s supposedly peaceful, perfect family in Eamithon. The family Qown never talked about, never visited, and whom he’d been so grateful to leave even as a child that he’d jumped into the Vishai’s open arms without ever once looking back.

But that … was a conversation for another day. If they made it past this one.

“And did Senera cure Drehemia?” Relos Var asked. “Was she the one who used the Name of All Things?”

Qown nodded mutely.

Relos Var stood perfectly still for several interminably slow heartbeats. No one—not even Anlyr—made a sound.

“Very well,” Relos Var finally said. “So I’ll have to deal with her in due time.” He gestured then, cast some sort of spell.

Galen found himself dragged to his feet by invisible forces.

Var bent over to pick up Tave, who started to kick.

“No! Don’t touch! Bad man!” Tave screamed.

The wizard handed the child to Sheloran, saying, “Keep the boy quiet or I will change my mind about letting you save him.”

He cast the gate spell again, this time to completion, before motioning for Sheloran and Galen to step through. “Quickly now. I have places to be.”

Galen didn’t step through, though. “What about Qown?”

Relos Var raised an eyebrow. “You honestly expected that I was going to let Qown go? I didn’t think a D’Mon would be that naïve.”

Galen threw himself forward toward the wizard. He heard shouting: Qown’s, Sheloran’s.

Then a darkness his eyesight couldn’t penetrate descended, and he heard nothing at all.