HAN HAD crossed paths with Thurlock as he walked across the green after leaving Lucky to practice on his own. Glad of the chance meeting because he wouldn’t have to spend time looking for the wizard, Han greeted his boss and asked if he was needed for anything.
“Nothing at the moment, Han. I’m just getting ready for a trip to Nedhra City and the university. I’ve been doing the scholarly thing, trying to find answers in history for what’s going on now. I’ll pursue that there and… some other matters.”
They’d begun walking together, ambling across the lawn in the general direction that would take Thurlock to his tower and Han to the military installation. It felt companionable, which was a nice change from the tension that had hung between them recently. “How has that been going, sir? The research, I mean.”
“Not well. Not well at all. But tell me, what’s on your agenda today?”
Han let out a sharp laugh that had nothing to do with humor. “Gods, I have so much to do. I’m worried about the potential for some kind of surprise attack, given what Luccan saw, so I’ll work on getting some troops ready to mount a defense on short notice. I’ll put the nearby communities on alert too. I’ve got to work out a plan for a wider, overall defense plan for the country, and then start things in motion to call up reserves, and so forth. I need to set up observation posts over and above those we always have working—just to watch for signs of these aliens, or the shadows—”
“Mist-shadows, Luccan has dubbed them. I think it’s a good name.”
“Okay. Mist-shadows then, and… well, you get the idea. But—urgently—I’ve also got the two expeditions we’ve already planned to arrange—the one to see if we can do something about the captive children, and the Fallows. So, personnel, provisioning issues, things like that. Related question: do you think this battle Luccan saw will actually happen?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps,” Thurlock said, scratching his beard.
“If it does, do you think it will be soon?”
“I can’t tell. I hope not.”
Han snorted. “Me too. Understatement. I have a feeling, though, that if there is a war coming, the Fallows is going to be at the center of it. I mean, think about it. What’s been happening recently…. As you said, it’s all connected to what we started seeing last year, and the Fallows is where it all seemed to get rolling.”
“Makes some sense,” Thurlock said, but he clearly wasn’t committed to the conclusion Han had drawn.
“Well, it’s the best figuring I have at the moment. I’ve just about decided I’m going with the new Fallows expedition—”
Thurlock stopped walking, so Han stopped speaking and turned to meet his eyes. The wizard’s face was screwed up in an expression Han wasn’t quite certain he could interpret. He looked uncomfortable, almost sick, and when he spoke it was with a note of regret.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pull rank for the second time in two days. No, Han, you won’t be going south with the troops. I need you to tend to matters here while I’m gone.”
Thurlock broke eye contact and turned to greet Henry, who’d just walked up. Han smiled his greeting too, and then the three of them started walking again, Thurlock dismissing the subject of Han going to the Fallows as if there couldn’t possibly be more to say. Han followed, flushed with ire, but he breathed it down before he spoke.
“All due respect, Thurlock, sir. I’m looking at what we know about the situation down there, and what we’re faced with for possibilities. My professional assessment is that I need to get my own eyes, ears, and mind on it. Please, assign someone else in your stead here—any number of office holders are more capable than I am, anyway. I’ll be back within a couple weeks—”
“No, Han. As I said, I need you here.” He blew out an annoyed-sounding breath and went on the offensive. “What? Did you all of a sudden stop trusting your officers? Gerania’s already there at the Fallows. Sergeant Koehl knows the terrain and knows his business, right? Choose a lieutenant to supervise the detachment on the way down. Picket messenger relays along the way this time so you’ll be in the know.”
“Messengers are all well and good—and already planned—but in a situation like this—”
Henry spoke up. “You know, Han. I might be able to help with that. I mean, it’s already decided I’m going, but there’s something more I can do, if you think it would be helpful.”
Han stopped, turned, and looked at Henry—keeping his face carefully blank. “Yes?”
“Uh, yes,” Henry said, venturing a smile but quickly letting it drop. “When I’m a condor, I could fly messages back and forth pretty quick, and also, if I’m not mistaken, you can read me when I’m shifted, right? My thoughts, I’m talking about. From a distance, even?”
Han held on to a safe silence until he could speak without letting it show that he felt betrayed. He accomplished that—or hoped he did, by remembering that he was not only a soldier, but a commander and a lifelong professional. As such, he would always put the greater good of the Sunlands first. He had to at least listen to other ideas—or in this case act as if he was listening. Finally he said, “That’s true, but bird minds are pretty erratic—even yours.”
Henry said, “Not anymore! See this?” He lifted the amulet from under his shirt. “Thurlock made it for me. My thoughts stay pretty human now when I fly.”
Han knew he was beat, and he wondered if somehow Thurlock had made that amulet knowing this moment would come. That was obviously nonsense, but he darted an accusing glance at the wizard anyway, then turned to Henry, locked an iron-hard gaze on Henry’s, and then gave him a slow, deliberate nod. “Okay, then,” he said, allowing his voice to carry a casual tone that was almost ridiculous coupled with his glare. “That’s settled. I’d better get to work. I’ll see you all this evening.”
He had perfectly good ears, and he didn’t need magic to hear the words exchanged as he strode away.
“He’s angry at me?” Henry asked.
“Possibly,” Thurlock said. “But he’s also busy.”
“I’d… rather he wasn’t. Angry, that is.”
“I know,” Thurlock said. “I’m certain he’ll get over it. You are at least half the reason he wanted to go.”
WITHIN TWO hours after their conversation on the green, Han stood in his office at the garrison headquarters before a wall map of the Karrighan continent. He was talking with—or mostly to—Thurlock, Link, a Behlishan’s Guard lieutenant named Rahzi, and—most importantly—Henry.
Given his particular talents, he’d learned early in life to blanket his thoughts, hiding them from prying minds. Right then, he found it imperative to be sure the only thoughts of his anybody in the room heard were the ones he spoke out loud. He was worried, and he was angry, and he was dead sure it was best if no one knew what he thought about Thurlock’s insistence that Henry should not only go south to the Fallows, but go ahead of the main body of soldiers without any protection or even weapons, and that he, Han Shieth, should stay home.
He didn’t like the wizard “pulling rank,” as he’d called it. Military operations had been solely Han’s purview for a very long time, and even when Thurlock’s help was needed with a specific problem, he’d let Han call the shots. Han was supremely qualified for the job and he’d proven his worth in the role hundreds of times over.
As far as Han wanting to go to the Fallows himself, it wasn’t a matter of trusting or not trusting his officers, as Thurlock had suggested. Plain and simple, Han felt certain lives were being lost or were at least threatened—the lives of his soldiers. He was responsible for them, and now he was sending more soldiers in, alerted to danger but blind as to its nature. And what of the Droghona? From what little he’d gathered from reports and from the visiting elders, they were innocent of aggression against the Sunlands and in danger themselves. They lived the rough lives of a seminomadic people in less than truly friendly terrain; children were a rare and treasured beauty in their lives. And of course children also meant their survival. Now, someone was taking their young ones and killing the adults who tried to protect them.
Perhaps things would have been different if Han had been able to contact Gerania, but for some reason she hadn’t contacted him, and she hadn’t responded to his calls. For the future, Han made a mental note to be sure to establish the rapport needed for long-distance mental communication with more of his officers. Either that or figure out how those cell phones in Earth work…. But for now, no such solution existed, and he desperately wanted to assess the situation at the Fallows border himself, and craft a plan to deal with it.
And about Henry—well, his concern there was more personal, and the damnable wizard knew it, whether Han let the old man in on his thoughts or not.
But Han was nothing if not professional, and like every good officer, he’d learned to take orders before he’d learned to give them. Thurlock had said, “Prepare Henry and send him on his way. Organize the main force to follow,” so that’s what Han would do, and he would do it as well and thoroughly as he could.
Because it’s my job.
Because it will make a difference.
Because if I do it well, Henry might survive to come back to me.
“Here,” he said to Henry, pointing at a location on the map almost exactly midway along the Sunlands border with the Fallows, “is where the main existing encampment of Behlishan’s Guard is located, under the command of a woman named Gerania. She’s a brilliant soldier, and if you need help, she will know how to provide it in my absence.” He chewed his lip for a moment, gazing at the map but deep in thought.
“I have to say, I’m uncertain of conditions on the ground there. As you already know, we’ve had no direct contact, and what information we do have suggests that what’s happening there is not at all what we expected. Nevertheless, logic dictates this is where your ground escort—two pairs of fast riders who will take different routes to help ensure at least one of them gets through—will report immediately when they arrive. Of course the main body of reinforcements will also be headed there under Lieutenant Rahzi, and it’s where you’re heading too, Henry, but not directly.”
Han felt his irritation with the wizard begin to surface, and in order to quash it he turned around and reached for the glass of water he had sitting on his desk. He took a long swallow, telling himself to let the emotion go, and do his job. You can talk to Henry about how you feel later, he told himself, and hoped it would prove to be true.
When he had his thoughts and feelings under safe cover again, he continued with Henry’s orders. “You’ll fly into the Fallows, try to mark the current location of the Droghona camps, look for these intruders we’ve been told about—I’m thinking they may look familiar to you, as they seem to have guns, which is something Ethra has not previously been cursed with. Look for anything else that appears… strange. Areas of unusual shadow, unexplained lights, creatures that don’t look like they belong. The terrain is going to be troublesome, Henry, even for a condor. It’s mountainous, very steep, broken slopes, hidden crevices, not a lot of flat land anywhere, and because the slopes are unstable everywhere except the rock peaks, the landscape actually shifts. I think your best bet, even though you’re flying, is to use the three main passes”—he pointed to the map—“here, here, and here as your entry points, and branch out from there to cover the terrain in between. Much of the trouble appears to be in the east end of the range, so maybe concentrate your main efforts there first.”
Han met Henry’s gaze and held it. “I suppose you’ll want to memorize the map, and Lieutenant Rahzi will introduce you to the riders who will be the closest thing we can give you to an escort. They’ll make an effort to stay reasonably close to you until they reach the border. Then they’ll go to the main camp. On the way down, contact them if you have an immediate need. Other than that, I’m your primary contact. You see something, you communicate with me about it.” He tapped his temple to make it clear how that should be done. “Do you have any questions?”
Henry’s answer came softly. “No. No questions.”
Han let silence fall for a moment, then said, “One more thing, Henry, and this is extremely important. Do not engage. If you see something bad happen, get out of there and report. If you know something’s going on but you can’t see exactly what, don’t try to get too close. Fall back and let me know what you see. Don’t fight unless you have to defend yourself. Your assignment is reconnaissance, not spying. Understood?”
Henry smiled slightly and nodded but said nothing.
Han was pretty sure Henry was reading between the lines of what he said. He decided he’d done all he needed to do at this meeting, mainly because he wanted to get the hell away from everyone. He turned his attention to Rahzi, and said, “Lieutenant, the troops have been told to expect departure tomorrow as soon as may be practical. Messenger relays have already been sent out to their pickets and should be in place well before you reach them. If problems, concerns, or questions arise, contact me. Otherwise command is yours. Keep me informed.”
LUCKY HAD gone outside to eat dinner with Han instead of eating at the big table in the manor. He’d felt kind of sorry he’d done it, as Han had hardly spoken to him, and then he’d left with a nod and a few words.
“I’m going back to work, Luccan.”
He’d returned for a quick moment, though, walked up and squeezed Lucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for sitting with me, lad. I know it was kindly meant.”
Lucky felt better, but he worried as he walked back to Thurlock’s house. After his practice session, he’d spent most of the day snoozing in the sun or napping in his room with only Maizie for company. Maybe he’d been exhausted, what with the time he’d spent in his mother’s dark world, the channeling he’d done with the Terrathian, pretending he knew anything about anything in meetings, and fighting imaginary foes with a sword made of light.
But between the snoozes and naps, he’d also been anxious about Zhevi and L’Aria, both of whom seemed to have disappeared. Now he added Han to the mix because he seemed unhappy. He generally stewed about all three for a while, and it was like a gateway drug—it led straight into stewing about everything else. He’d been the one having all the undreams and visions, and what Thurlock had said about mischief and evil afoot struck home. He couldn’t have explained why, but he thought the whole mess might be at least partly his fault, and it pained him to think his friends—not to mention his whole country, maybe the whole world—were in serious danger because of it.
He also suspected it wasn’t healthy for him to sit alone in his room and brood, so when Thurlock knocked on his door a little later and asked if he’d like to accompany him to visit Han in his office, he’d jumped at the chance.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ve never been there before. It’s not far, right?”
“Just past the stables.”
And as they passed those stables, Lucky searched the paddock for K’ormahk, but then he recalled the horse had flown away almost as soon as he’d delivered Lucky and Han to the Sisterhold. He started to add K’ormahk to his list of worries, but quickly realized it was ridiculous. He can take care of himself, and he’ll be here when I need him.
And I will need him soon.
How do I know that?
I don’t know, but I do.
That’s not normal.
Before Lucky could carry those thoughts any further, he and Thurlock arrived at the trio of single-story whitewashed buildings that housed the headquarters offices of the Sunlands military garrison. There hadn’t been much rain recently, so the path leading up to them was lumpy, hard-caked mud, instead of squishy, slippery wet mud. The buildings were each surrounded by something that seemed like a cross between a veranda and a boardwalk, and he and Thurlock stepped up onto it and stomped the bits of mud off their feet.
A plaque on the door of the corner office identified it as belonging to Sunlands Central Command, and Thurlock held it open. “After you.”
Lucky entered an empty office with a large desk holding scrolls and papers held down with weights. “He’s not here,” he said.
“This is his staff sergeant’s office. Probably, the man had enough sense to go home after a hard day’s work. Han’s office is through that door.” He pointed at a narrow, paneled door of dark wood that Lucky had thought led to a closet or a storeroom.
“Come in, Luccan,” Han thought to him.
Lucky did, and when he turned around to see if Thurlock had followed, the wizard had magicked up and now carried a tray laden with a mug of coffee, one of tea, and one of steaming cocoa.
“Oh, Lem!” he said with a broad smile. “I didn’t know you were here.” He sort of winked at the tray, and another mug of tea appeared.
Like magic, Lucky caught himself thinking, then mentally smacked his forehead.
Han maintained the irate look he’d directed at Thurlock as they entered for all of thirty seconds, tops, then closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. Accepting the cup of coffee Thurlock held out, he said, “Ah, well, sir. I guess you know how to appease the angry bear. Or dragon as the case may be. Thank you.”
Straight-backed chairs lined one wall of the smallish office. Lem occupied one, and Lucky and Thurlock settled into two of the others. They all carefully sipped their hot beverages, and Lucky thought Thurlock had been about to speak when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in, Zhevi,” Han said.
Zhevi stayed quiet after he entered the room and avoided meeting the eyes of his military superiors, though Lem was also his uncle, and Han could also be called his friend. Clearly, he was nervous, and Lucky supposed that was because he’d left at a time when he’d been told to stay for duty. Because Zhevi was a friend close to his own age, Lucky sometimes forgot he was a soldier, but at that moment, it seemed Zhevi was nothing but. Lucky had never seen anybody stand so perfectly at attention.
“Be at ease, Zhevi,” Han said, though he didn’t invite him to sit. “Just tell me where you’ve been.”
“L’Aria disappeared, sir.” He had relaxed a smidgen, but nobody could have believed he was “at ease.” “For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking I had to go after her.”
“Couldn’t stop?”
“I know it sounds weird, sir! But it was like I had blinders on. Whenever I tried to talk myself out of it, or even think about other things, I kept coming back to the same thing. I left to go find her, but the farther I got from the Sisterhold, the more I thought—could think—I shouldn’t be going. Finally, I discovered I’d gone pretty much in a circle. I was close to the Hold, and I came back. I’m sorry, sir. I know I was supposed to report this morning for something.”
“Well, the ‘something’ hasn’t left without you yet. Report to Captain Olmar—he’s still at his office, but he won’t be there long, so don’t dally. He’ll brief you, but the long and short of it is you’ll be part of a mission to try to save those children under the mountain and subdue their captors. I hope you find that gratifying.”
Zhevi brightened visibly. “Oh, yes. Yes, I will, sir. Thank you.”
Lem spoke up. “Ye’ll be leavin’ sometime tomorrow. Find out what your officer wants you to do between now and then, and stand ready to leave on time.”
“Yes, sir.” Zhevi saluted both his officers, turned on his heel and started to leave.
“Zhevi?” Han said, and then when Zhevi turned back around spoke with care in his voice. “Don’t worry about L’Aria. She’s gone after her father, and the two of them will take care of each other. She’ll be back.”
Lucky had watched the whole exchange, and tried to catch Zhevi’s eye, at least to wave goodbye, but either Zhevi was too preoccupied or he didn’t feel friendly toward Lucky. Lucky hoped it wasn’t the latter. Last year Zhevi had become a true friend, one of very few friends close to him in age at the Sisterhold. Life would be a lot crummier without that friendship.
Maybe it’s because I hit him. Duh.
Han interrupted the thought. “He’ll get over it. And I don’t think that’s it anyway. But Luccan, you need to go back to blocking your thoughts! I’m not the only person who can pick them up.”
Lucky decided not to answer, since that thought hadn’t been meant for Han anyway. Instead, he said what he’d been thinking before Zhevi left. “Han, I want to go with the soldiers to rescue the kids in those tunnels.”
Han’s expression and tone remained flat. “That’s courageous. Thanks for offering. But no.”
“You were going to have L’Aria go, but she’s gone. You need someone to replace her.”
Han narrowed his eyes slightly as if considering but quickly shook his head. “I don’t think I do, Luccan.”
“I did a lot in those tunnels. I know how to deal with all that awful stuff. I want to help the children.”
“Yes, you did a lot,” Han said, the corners of his mouth tightening now with irritation. “You were essential then. I admire that you want to help now. But I said no for good reasons, and the answer remains no.”
Lucky turned toward the wizard. “Thurlock, I want to—”
Thurlock looked puzzled, but his answer came calm and certain. “I’m afraid the answer is no, Luccan.”
“Why the hell not?” Lucky immediately realized he’d just yelled at a powerful wizard, and of course he regretted it. If he’d been the praying sort he would have started just about then.
But instead of turning Lucky into cheesecake or zapping him with chicken pox, Thurlock just answered him in the same calm tone. “Three reasons. One, you asked Han and he said no, and I don’t appreciate you trying to use me against him. We are not your parents and even if we were, it would be bad behavior to try to manipulate us that way. Two, Han is right, your talents should not be needed there. Three, I’ve decided you’re coming with me, a day or two from now, to Nedhra City.”
“I am?”
“You are.” Thurlock tilted his head back and forth as if allowing for doubt. “Well, it is your choice technically. I once told you I wouldn’t force you to do things, and I won’t. But I strongly recommend you join me.”