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Amira
By the time the three of them reached a village along a tributary of the Cerin River, Amira felt as if her stomach were gnawing a hole to her spine.
She’d gone hungry before. Once, during her training, she’d been left blindfolded with her hands tied in the forests and told to find her way home or be food for the tigers. No one had seen tigers in that forest for generations, but it had still been quite motivational to an imaginative teen. Amira had wandered through the forests for three days before returning bedraggled, bloody, bruised, and hungrier than she’d been in her whole life.
Riding all day on nothing but tubers wasn’t as bad, but Amira still thought of those times as she reined in her horse outside a circle of cottages near nightfall. The houses were low piles of rock with thatched roofs and low stone fences around their perimeters.
The few people in the town were in drab woolen clothes that matched the stones. Large eyes peered at them from curious faces.
Amira kept her hood up and let Daindreth lead. She’d come through this town more than once, but never with anyone else and always in disguise. Still, best not to risk being recognized.
“That one,” Amira said to Daindreth as they entered the village boundaries. “The one with the geese out front.”
Daindreth turned his horse in that direction, keeping to a slow walk.
The house Amira had pointed out was the largest with several chickens and geese roaming in the front yard. There was no shortage of children, either, and little ones of all ages splashed in the mud and chased one another with clods of earth. They sent chickens scattering in their wake and only their laughter drowned out the birds’ outraged squawking. The children steered clear of the geese grazing on the other side of the yard.
Daindreth called to the children and one of them scurried off while the rest pointed, stared, and whispered between each other. The archduke dismounted his horse and passed the reins to Amira.
In a few moments, a lean woman appeared in the doorway of the cottage, wiping her hands on her apron. “What brings you here, strangers?”
“Greetings, goodwife,” Daindreth said with a slight incline of his head. “My friends and I are passing through and hoped you might have some food to spare.”
The woman looked them over, scrutinizing the three riders. “You’ve got coin?”
“Of course,” Daindreth said.
The goodwife waved him forward. “Aye, we might have some to spare. You can come in. Your friends wait out here.”
Amira clenched her jaw as Daindreth followed the stranger into the cottage. There was no reason to think this woman might be a threat, but Amira found herself reaching for ka.
As best she could tell, there were one or two other people already within the cottage, probably a grandmother or other village women. Those ka sources didn’t move. Only the sources she knew to be Daindreth and the village woman appeared to be moving.
The few children kept behind the low rock wall around the cottage, peering up at Amira and Thadred, gesturing to them and their horses. A village like this might have a few donkeys and oxen, but horses would only be brought by outsiders.
From around them, Amira was aware of curious eyes peering out of the other cottages. Travelers weren’t unusual in these parts, but a woman alone with two men might be memorable. Amira would have liked to avoid that, but none of the three had wanted to split their group long enough for one of them to fetch provisions.
Minutes ticked by and the cold rain seeped through Amira’s coat to slick her skin. Her little bay mare snorted and stomped, eager to be moving again. The small horse had impressive stamina.
“You sure about this?” Thadred asked.
“He’ll be fine,” Amira quietly replied, keeping her hood up.
They’d reviewed this plan several times over. Amira had liked it no less than Thadred, though it had been her idea.
Daindreth was the least incongruous out of the three of them. Amira was a woman and proper women didn’t do the talking to strangers when men were with them. Thadred’s limp would give them away too easily. Then again, the children were already staring. Perhaps they should have just accepted memorability as inevitable.
Daindreth reappeared a few minutes later with a sack slung over one shoulder. The goodwife followed him to the door, one hand clutching a handful of coins as she watched Daindreth go.
From the number of coins in the woman’s hand, Amira could tell Daindreth had been quite generous and her jaw tightened in annoyance. Daindreth secured the sack of provisions to the back of his saddle before swinging up onto his horse’s back.
He waved a farewell to those inside the fence. The goodwife offered a single wave and the children hesitantly followed suit.
Amira hadn’t been sure how Daindreth would handle that interaction, but it seemed to have gone well. She surveyed the village before nudging her horse after Daindreth and his rouncey.
Her little mare’s hooves squelched in the mud. Amira just hoped their horses wouldn’t get hoofrot from standing in this muck for days on end.
It had rained and rained since the morning. Thunder crackled in the distance and Amira frowned.
This weather was odd for summer in Hylendale. The occasional summer storm wasn’t unheard of, but rain usually came in the spring and autumn.
Their group continued on, riding past the village’s carefully planned rows of cabbages, carrots, squashes, and other crops. It looked like a good crop, or would be by harvest time.
Riding up into the forested hills, deeper and deeper, they reached a crest in the trail and the horses continued up. Pine needles lined the floor, lessening the mud, but the horses still had to move carefully so as not to slip.
They passed a gaggle of shepherds, crouched below trees as their sheep grazed the wet grass, seeming unbothered. The shepherds peered out at them from under oiled leather hoods. A few sheepdogs barked and leapt up to give chase, but their masters called them back, content to let the riders slip past unbothered.
Amira pulled her wet cowl higher over her head, cursing the weather. This damned rain was slowing them down, but at least it would also be slowing down anyone on their trail.
“We should keep moving,” Amira said, kicking her mare to take the lead again. “There are cliffs up that way.” She pointed to where the trail diverged, the narrower path snaking upward. “We should find some shelter under the rocks.”
Neither of the men protested as she steered her little mare up the cliff face toward the jutting peaks. Thadred’s gelding let off a low whicker but followed.
Amira felt out sources of ka, sensing the squirrels in their nests overhead, the rodents huddled in their burrows, and the ever-present smog of golden energy that permeated all forests. Nothing bigger than a grouse was in their immediate area.
They rode up for what seemed close to an hour. The path twisted and doubled back in places, but Amira kept them on it. If nothing else, this would throw a few kinks in their trail for anyone who might be hunting them. Daindreth and Thadred continued on without complaint, crouched low over their horses’ necks.
The trees thinned and a high cliff appeared over their heads. A rocky ledge jutted out, forming a natural shelter. No sooner had Amira taken in the sight than a burst of motion exploded from beneath the outcrop.
Amira’s mare whinnied and rocked back on her haunches. “Whoa!” Amira reined in her mare as the animal tried to bolt, hooves sliding and skidding on the soft ground. “Easy, girl. Easy.”
Dozens of deer bounded into the forest with their tails up. They scattered like leaves on the wind, leaping into the trees with wild, reckless abandon.
“Easy.” Amira patted the neck of her mare as the little horse’s nostrils flared, watching the herd flee. “Easy.”
Her mare stomped and shifted, wide eyes on the deer. Behind them, Daindreth and Thadred’s horses whinnied their protests, too.
Amira’s mare chomped at the bit and stomped. One of her hooves slipped and shot out. The mare slid, her whole body jerking forward.
Amira tumbled over the mare’s neck and hit the ground with a thud.
“Amira!” Daindreth shouted.
Groaning, she kept a tight grip on her reins as her mare jerked back. Amira skidded several steps, dragged by her horse, before her mare regained her balance and stood still. Nostrils flaring, the mare’s eyes followed where the deer had fled. The little horse kept her neck rigid, legs splayed awkwardly for balance.
“Easy,” Amira muttered, wincing at a new bruise along her lower back. “Easy, girl.”
“Are you alright?” Daindreth swung down from his own horse and shoved the reins to Thadred, keeping space between himself and Amira’s agitated animal.
“Fine.” Amira rose carefully, not taking her eyes off her spooked animal. “Just fine.”
Daindreth made it to her and helped her to stand. “Are you sure?”
“Fine,” Amira nodded. “A little winded, is all. Come on.” She stepped backward, leading her mare forward in the direction of the cliff. “We should be able to wait out the storm.”
Daindreth reclaimed his horse from Thadred, and the knight dismounted, too. The animals kept watching the forest where the deer had vanished, but none of them spooked again.
“Pity we didn’t find those earlier,” Thadred remarked. “I could have done with a bit of venison.”
“Those deer belong to King Hyle,” Amira reminded him. “And the king’s marshals don’t take kindly to poachers.”
“Is it poaching if you’re the rightful emperor?” Thadred asked, looking to Daindreth.
Amira rolled her eyes at him. “You want to try telling them that when we’re caught?”
They already had Vesha, the empire’s agents, and possibly every constable within twenty leagues looking for them. The last thing they needed was poaching charges on top of treason and resisting arrest.
The rocky outcrop afforded them some shelter even if the ground was strewn with deer droppings. They found a cleaner patch of ground and drew up in a circle.
The horses shook themselves dry and flicked their ears, nosing at the ground and nickering to each other.
“Not so bad, is it?” Daindreth said to his mare, patting her neck.
They tied the horses near the back and sat a few paces away. Thadred leaned against the wall and Amira took up a place cross-legged beside him while Daindreth retrieved the sack he’d purchased from the village.
Amira gestured for Daindreth to pass her the sack and she inspected the contents, thinking. “That should last us two days.”
Perhaps Daindreth hadn’t overpaid as much as she’d thought. Amira measured out portions as the rain came down harder.
Cheese, hard bread, and smoked mutton had never tasted so good. The three of them ate in silence as the storm raged outside, darkening the sky. Lightning crashed from somewhere out of sight, shaking the stones and making the horses whinny in fright.
Amira frowned, looking outside.
“Quite a storm!” Thadred shouted over the rain.
Amira shook her head, mouth full of cheese. She supposed that was just their luck to have freakish weather.
“Maybe we should have seen about borrowing someone’s barn back in that village,” Thadred muttered.
Amira shook her head. “The longer we stayed in the village, the more stories would spread.” No need to make it easy on their hunters.
“Stories won’t be spreading anywhere if this storm doesn’t let up,” Thadred shot back. “Who could travel in this weather?”
Outside the cave, the storm turned into a squall. Trees swayed and torrents of rain fell in curtains.
“Thadred.” Amira peeled the last of the wax rind from her cheese wedge. “How much Kadra’han training did you get?”
Thadred raised one eyebrow. “Enough. Why do you ask?”
“Were you trained in Kelamora or by knights and soldiers?” Amira flicked the cheese wax across the cave. Just speaking the name of the Kadra’han school left an odd taste in her mouth. Her summer there seemed a lifetime ago.
Thadred adjusted his position on the ground. “Knights and soldiers.”
“We had the same tutors,” Daindreth replied.
“Hmm.” Amira broke her cheese wedge into smaller pieces, nibbling at them individually.
She’d fought with Daindreth the first night they’d met, but that had been the demon taking over his body to defend itself. More recently, she’d sparred with him a few times. She’d noticed the militaristic, ordered manner of his fighting style—suited for a battlefield with soldiers and knights on either side of him. Less suited for fighting off assassins in the night.
Amira glanced between the two men, thinking. “Did Darrigan train you?” She addressed the question to Thadred.
“A bit,” the knight replied. It wasn’t like Thadred to be embarrassed or uncomfortable, but her questions made him squirm. “He taught me about our curse. A bit about how to use it. How to watch a room. That sort of thing.”
Amira’s brow furrowed, thinking.
“Why?” Thadred pressed.
“So you never went to Kelamora at all?”
Thadred was quiet for a moment. “Once. For about three weeks.”
Daindreth glanced between the two of them.
Amira waited, watching Thadred.
“I roughhoused with swords, spears, and staves.” Thadred shrugged. “Failed miserably at anything involving ka.” The abrupt sound to the last word told Amira that his time in Kelamora wasn’t something he wanted to discuss.
Amira nodded, thinking. “You can’t use ka at all?”
“No,” Thadred clipped. “I’m not a sorcerer. I don’t even know how to...feel it? Sense it? I have no idea how to even find it.”
Amira wasn’t convinced. Thadred was a Kadra’han. The cruel trick of the Kadra’han was that they were under curses, but they could only be cursed by themselves.
A Kadra’han’s vows bound them to their liege lord in exchange for potentially limitless power—the better a Kadra’han served, the stronger they became. But the price was their freedom.
Amira had broken her curse. She was no longer under compulsion to obey Daindreth, but she still felt her power growing even now.
“What’s Kelamora?” Daindreth asked.
Amira looked to Thadred, but the knight looked back to her. She took a deep breath. “It’s a...” She paused, searching for the right world. “An academy of sorts. The last remaining collegium for sorcerers.”
Daindreth looked to Thadred. “You never mentioned it.”
“I’ve never mentioned a lot of things that happened when I was away,” Thadred said.
“Away?” Amira frowned, looking to the knight.
Thadred tried to shrug it off. “I spent a year or two in the field with the army.”
Amira had always assumed that Thadred had spent his whole life at Daindreth’s side. He certainly didn’t act like a battle-hardened man, but this wouldn’t be the first time she had misjudged him. She cleared her throat.
“Anyway,” Amira went on, “Kelamora used to be a temple, but then it became a collegium and now it’s...” She looked to Thadred. How could she explain it?
“They train Kadra’han there,” Thadred said. “It’s all they do.”
Amira nodded.
“For the empire?” Daindreth asked, leaning forward.
“For anyone,” Amira answered. “If you’re rich enough, you can have your Kadra’han trained there. They also buy children from all over, boys, mostly. They train them to be bodyguards and teach them sorcery before having them take their vows to the highest bidder.”
“You trained at Kelamora,” Daindreth said softly. It wasn’t a question.
“I spent a summer there when I was sixteen,” Amira confirmed. “It’s the last place in the world where you can study magic.”
Emperor Drystan had been nothing if not thorough, though in truth he had only finished what had already begun. Sorcerers and sorceresses had been on the decline for generations. The common folk feared them and only nobles were arrogant enough to fraternize with them. They were dangerous and most of them had been women, something that made them doubly terrifying to many.
“It’s in Nihain,” Amira added. “So, I suspect that’s why it was tolerated.”
Nihain was the country Vesha had come from. The empress was the daughter of an Erymayan nobleman who had married a Nihai heiress. Since then, the country had never been formally conquered, but many said that the Erymayan ambassador there was more of a governor. He certainly wielded more power than a foreign dignitary should.
Daindreth nodded, contemplative. “It would also explain why so many of Vesha’s Kadra’han are foreigners. Does Kelamora make their students swear allegiance to her?”
“No,” Amira said confidently. “Vesha doesn’t seem to have known about me.” For whatever reason, Darrigan and Vesha’s other Kadra’han had kept the secret of Amira’s existence, but the assassin doubted that the entire collegium would have kept the secret if they owed the empress allegiance. Amira turned her attention back to Thadred. “You’re a sorcerer,” she said flatly. “You couldn’t be a Kadra’han if you weren’t.” She bit into the bread next. The flour was grainy with bits of rock from the millstone, but Amira was hungry enough not to care.
“I told you before,” Thadred said, stiffening, “I had the magic to make the vows stick, but I can’t sense ka.”
“Heard you the first time.” Amira frowned, thinking. She glanced to Thadred’s bad leg.
Since she’d gained her new level of power, she’d noticed ka constantly streaming from his body into the signet ring he wore. It congealed around his hip and upper thigh, too. When he had been younger, a fall from a horse had crushed his left side, shattering that part of his hip joint. From everything Amira had heard, the injury should have been fatal.
Thadred had been permanently maimed, but he had lived. He could also still ride and joust, not to mention that he seemed to find his way around a bedroom well enough. His exploits of seduction were legendary.
Magic was the only explanation for that. But even if her theory was correct and Thadred had woven spells around his injury without even knowing it, that didn’t help them. If Thadred couldn’t sense ka, if he couldn’t see what he was channeling or where, she couldn’t teach him.
Amira glanced to Daindreth next. “Do you fight free handed?”
“What?” The archduke cast her a puzzled look.
“Without weapons,” Amira explained. “And without Caa Iss.”
Daindreth had been unarmed the night they’d met, but that hadn’t been him fighting. “A little,” Daindreth said.
Amira inhaled. “We’ll have to practice that more.” She pushed back her hair, wet and sticking to her neck.
“What made you suddenly decide our skills are lacking?” Thadred clipped.
Amira looked to the mouth of the cave and the pouring rain outside. “Darrigan told me that Vesha had Kadra’han even outside the palace.”
“She does,” Daindreth confirmed. “Scattered across the empire. I don’t know how many.”
“Do you know where?” Amira glanced back to him.
Daindreth shrugged. “The names of a few cities have been mentioned before, but I don’t know for certain. I know that some of them move around.”
Amira nodded, thinking. She’d expected as much.
“Think there are any in Hylendale?” Thadred asked.
“I think there are about to be,” Amira answered. “If there aren’t already.” And this time, Vesha’s Kadra’han would not underestimate Daindreth’s assassin.
“Think they know we’re here?” Daindreth asked. “In Hylendale, I mean.”
“Even if word hasn’t reached Vesha yet, which I’m sure it has, yes.” Amira inhaled. “They know we were out to rid you of Caa Iss. It follows we’ll be consulting the women who cursed you with him.”
Thadred grunted. “I hate being predictable.”
So did Amira, but there was nothing to be done for it.
“Do we plan to go into the Cursewood?” Daindreth asked.
Amira was proud that there was no fear in his words. “Not if we can help it, but probably.”
“Have you ever been?” Daindreth asked. This time, there was some hesitation.
“To the edge.” Amira bit off a chunk of mutton, chewing and gulping it down. “Once.”
She had been on the way back from one of her father’s tasks, a particularly grizzly assassination that had left not only her mark, but a stable boy and a porter dead. She’d been hoping for something, she couldn’t have said what. But whatever it was, she hadn’t found it.
The blackbriars had spread from the border to the distant horizon, tangling over the hills and mountains. The Istovari sorceresses had sealed themselves off so that no one could pursue them. And they’d done it most effectively, gauntleting themselves in untold acres of poisonous thorns that choked the life out of everything in sight.
Amira remembered looking on that tangle of poisoned forest and feeling a deep sense of hopelessness. It was a visible reminder of how truly abandoned she was.
“How do you think that will go?” Daindreth asked. “When we find the sorceresses, I mean.”
Amira honestly didn’t know. “I’m not sure,” she said. “It will go very well or very poorly. It’s unlikely there will be a middle ground.”
Thadred gulped down his latest bite of mutton. “What do we plan to do if it’s poorly?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” Amira answered. Her words were only partially true. She’d thought about how to persuade her mothers to help them for days now, even weeks, since before she had freed Daindreth. Yet so far, she could think of nothing.
They had nothing to offer the Istovari sorceresses. The promise of freedom and restoration to status once Daindreth was emperor, perhaps, but Amira had a feeling the sorceresses would want far more than that. With her luck, they probably wanted revenge on Drystan more than they wanted their lives back. From what Amira had seen, they were petty like that.
A crack sounded from outside the cave. At first, Amira thought it was another peal of thunder, but then a rushing, rumbling, crashing roared all around them.
“What’s that?” Daindreth yelled.
“I don’t know!” Amira shouted back. Amira could sense nothing unusual about the ka around them, either. As best she could tell, the world was exactly as it had been.
The roaring, rushing continued for a few minutes before the patter of the rain drowned it out. The horses stamped and snorted for some time after that, but they eventually fell silent.
Amira kicked at the ground impatiently, glaring at the pouring sky. By the time the rain stopped falling, it was late in the evening and darkness had claimed the landscape around them. In the end, the three of them spent the night in the natural lean-to, waiting for the storm to pass.
♦♦♦
The next morning, Amira was ready to be on their way. Thadred complained of stiffness after spending an entire night on the hard ground—as he had every night outside Mynadra. They found water in a swollen stream not far from the outcrop and refilled their waters skins and let the horses drink.
After that, Amira was pushing them on again. She had no desire to be caught by constables or worse. If Vesha had Kadra’han scattered across the empire, the sorcerers would have ways of tracking them that wouldn’t require a trail or tracks.
The three riders shared another meal in the saddle, moving the horses at a steady walk. They encountered no more shepherds or deer, just squirrels that scurried overhead chittering.
Amira wished she had a bow or a sling to down a few of the rodents. She’d have to make a point of getting one as soon as she could.
They left the valley by early afternoon after rejoining the main road. They traveled a bit to the side of the road on the grass to keep their horses off the slick mud. Their group made good progress, all things considered, and crested a ridge overlooking the valley at their backs just as the sun began its western descent.
“Gods, what happened?” Thadred gasped.
Amira looked back, one hand already on her dagger, and stopped. Her eyes widened as she took in the valley, or what was left of it.
The rocky cliffs where they had spent the night were intact, as were the surrounding forests. But the lower grazing pastures and farmlands were just...gone.
In their place was a swath of dark brown sludge. From this distance, Amira could make out jutting skeletons of trees, rocks, and other debris caught up in the flow.
“Gods,” Daindreth echoed his cousin. “Mudslide.”
Amira swallowed, taking in the devastation. It had missed them, barely.
“Are mudslides common here?” Thadred demanded.
Amira shook her head numbly. “Years ago, they sometimes happened near the mountains, but—”
“We have to go back!” Daindreth said, turning his horse around.
“No!” Amira pivoted her horse in front of him. “It’s too late.”
“The village, Amira!” Daindreth snapped.
“Anyone who was caught in that sludge overnight is long dead,” Amira snapped back. “We have no way of getting to the survivors even if there are any. That sludge is too thick and unless you can fly, you won’t be getting over it without getting caught in it yourself.
“We can’t just leave them!” the archduke cried.
“They’re dead, Dain!” Amira shouted back, her voice echoing over the mountains around them.
Daindreth shook his head.
“Dain.” Thadred pulled his horse up beside the archduke. “You know she’s telling the truth.”
“We can’t just leave them.”
“No,” Thadred agreed. “But we can’t go back to them, either.”
Daindreth stared toward the devastated valley, torment written across his face.
In that moment, Amira allowed herself to feel a pang of sadness, too. That village was buried. Those children, their mothers and sisters, their brothers and fathers who had been tending the sheep—all of them were dead.
Amira’s gut clenched at the thought, but what could they do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
They stayed on that ridge for several more moments. Daindreth never once took his eyes off the ravaged valley.
