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Oskar sighed and turned another page. He flipped hastily through the book, scanning the words but not digesting them. He knew what he was looking for, but had not found it yet.
Since being raised to initiate, he had spent as much of his limited free time as possible in the archives. He would have liked to have spent more, but it wouldn’t do to fall behind in his studies immediately after being raised. Especially since Basilius had not supported him. He would do everything in his power to prove the man wrong. Then again, the proctor’s objections to his candidacy had more to do with his connection to Aspin than to any reservations about Oskar as an initiate. Of that he was sure.
He closed the book, set it aside, and picked up another. He had given up searching through volumes of history and now focused on prophecy. It seemed, though, that the weapon was not the subject of a great deal of prophetic lore. He had read and reread what he could find, but it all was familiar to him. For the first time, he considered that he might fail at the task Aspin had set him.
This new book was useless. It was written by a tribesman who lived in the mountains of Riza. Written in verse, it spoke of thieves, princes, and murder. It might have made for an interesting read, but it was not what he needed right now. He set it aside and picked up the last of the books he’d taken from the shelves: a tiny volume the size of his hand. It’s cracked leather cover and yellowed, brittle pages spoke of age. It looked promising, but the spidery script was difficult to read. It would take some time to work his way through it.
“There you are. How did I know I’d find you in the darkest corner of this place?” Dacio pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. “We should go somewhere else and talk.”
Oskar turned and frowned at his friend, whose face was pale. Dacio’s eyes darted to and fro and he tapped his foot with nervous energy.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have something to tell you and I don’t want Agen to hear.”
“Is he around? I’m surprised they let him out of the kitchens.” Oskar grinned. Since his arrest, Agen had been scrubbing pots as a punishment.
“I saw him when I came in. He greeted me in the usual way.” Dacio made an obscene gesture and Oskar laughed. “This is important and I don’t want to be overheard.”
Oskar stood and looked around. No one was in sight. “Just tell me now and say it quietly. We only have a few minutes until mealtime.”
Dacio hesitated. “All right. I’ve been working on translating your glyphs. The rubbings you made captured only bits and pieces of writing. The first one I translated is incomplete, but it paints a compelling picture. I came looking for you as soon as I finished this bit.” He drew a rolled parchment from within his robe and handed it to Oskar.
Oskar looked around again to make sure no one was watching and then opened it. He began to read, slowly at first and then faster.
like a curse upon the nations
feared the world would be torn apart.
gathered in the holy place
I freely give my life
surrendered her life upon the blade
the temple shook as Vesala was drawn into
by the power of ultimate sacrifice
Oskar’s blood turned to ice. Hands trembling, he rolled the parchment up and looked at Dacio. Now he understood why his friend appeared shaken.
“I have not yet translated the other pages, but at a glance it looks like the same story was written over and over on the walls of the city you visited. They aren’t all exactly the same so if I translate them all I might be able to piece most of it together.” From the look on his face that was the last thing Dacio wanted to do.
“Please do.” Oskar’s throat was tight and he could barely speak. “But I think we both know what you will find.”
Muffled cries broke the silence. They both sprang to their feet before realizing that the disturbance came from down below. They heard footsteps and saw that the few men who had been studying on this floor were now hurrying toward the stairs.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Dacio said.
“I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Oskar tucked the book of prophecy into his robe and stood.
“You go. I think I’ll finish up the translation while I’ve got this place to myself. Forgive me, but I’d like to have this out of my hands as quickly as possible.” Dacio took out the remainder of Oskar’s rubbings, laid them on the table, and set to work.
Oskar hurried down the stairs and found the main floor of the archives empty. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t here. Out in the hallway, he met Whitt and Naseeb coming in his direction. Both looked as frightened as Dacio had been.
“What is it?”
Whitt grabbed Oskar by the arm and hauled him back inside the archives. “Something is happening,” he said in a low voice.
“But why do we...”
“Not now!” Naseeb made a slashing gesture with his hand. “Whitt, stand by the door and warn us if anyone comes this way and try not to look suspicious.”
“Yes, Sir. Anything else, Sir?”
Naseeb rolled his eyes. “Please.”
“That’s better.” Whitt sauntered over to the archives entrance, leaned against the wall, and gazed out at the milling throng.
“Something is happening. Something bad. The word is, Basilius is trying to take the prelate’s chair.”
The news hit Oskar like a slap. “How could he? Surely he doesn’t have the support of enough proctors, nor that of the masters.”
“If the rumors are true, he’s not going about it the usual way. No one can say for certain because that entire wing of the Gates has been barricaded.” Naseeb swallowed hard. “By magic.”
“Are you saying he is staging a coup?” Oskar couldn’t believe his ears.
“I’m not saying it, but everyone else is. Oskar,” Naseeb whispered, “everyone is saying Basilius is a coldheart and he’s got a legion of followers inside the Gates. They’re saying the second Frostmarch is beginning.”
Oskar’s head swam. “Once the Silver Serpent was found it was only a matter of time, I suppose. But I still can’t believe Basilius is a follower of the Ice King. He’s a nasty piece of work but he...” Oskar didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Whether it’s true or not, you have to get out of here. If Basilius succeeds, he’ll be the most powerful man in the gates and you’ll have no one to protect you from him. If he fails, he and his followers will be desperate. Who knows what they might do?”
“Where would I go?” But as soon as he had asked the question, Oskar knew the answer. “I have to get to Shanis.”
Just then, Whitt hurried to their side. “I overheard two saikurs talking. They say Denrill has been deposed and some of the proctors and masters are dead. Basilius had men planted throughout the Gates waiting for him to give the word. Some are trying to make a fight of it but it isn’t going well. Everyone’s confused and afraid and no one knows who to trust. It’s every bit as bad as we feared.”
“I say we get out of here. We’ll find somewhere safe until things settle down here if they ever do.” Naseeb turned to Oskar. “Have you seen Dacio?”
“He’s upstairs.” Oskar wanted to tell his friends what Dacio had learned, but now was not the time. “Do you think you can make it back to our quarters?” Naseeb nodded. “Good. Get Dacio, go back to the room and gather as many of our things as you can, and meet me in the city just over the wall at the far side of the combat ground.”
“What are you going to do?” Naseeb asked.
“I’m going to find Lizzie.”
Oskar made his way through the crowded hallway, trying not to draw any more notice than necessary, but no one paid him any mind. Everyone seemed to be either exchanging gossip or debating their next move. A few had already gathered their possessions and were headed for the front gate. He wondered if they would be permitted to leave, or if Basilius had taken measures to stop anyone from fleeing. If so, he hoped that he and his friends would be able to get away. Surely the proctor did not have enough men to seal the entire perimeter.
When he made it out the back door, he quickened his pace, breaking into a sprint when he reached the combat ground. He’d scale the wall, head into the city, and search for Lizzie until he found her. He supposed he’d start where he’d seen her before, in the area around the alehouse he and his friends had visited when Dacio had been raised to initiate.
So distracted was he by his plans that he almost failed to notice the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He ducked as something flew past his head and clattered against the wall. A knife. Muttering a shielding spell he looked around for his attacker.
“Basilius told me not to kill you, but I’m sure he will understand if it happens by accident.” Agen stepped out from behind a tree, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I hated you from the start, and then you landed me in jail. It’s time for you to pay.” He made a cupping gesture and flung his empty hand toward Oskar, who stepped out of the way. The ball of energy burst against the wall behind him, spraying shards of stone everywhere.
“You don’t want to kill me,” Oskar said. “If you did you wouldn’t have wasted time with that ridiculous speech. ‘Time to pay?’ You’ve seen one too many mummers’ shows.”
Agen hurled another ball of energy which Oskar easily sidestepped.
“And you should only use that spell when someone’s back is turned. It’s too easy to see what’s coming.” As he spoke, Oskar moved toward the wall, hoping for an opportunity to get away. “Why don’t you get out of here before you get hurt? Basilius will never know you saw me.”
“He’ll know, farm boy. He’ll know because I’ll show him your body.” Agen began walking forward, eyes alive with malice. “You never belonged here. You’re a country lout who relied on your friends and on the masters who doted on you. But there’s no one here now but you and me. Aaaah!” Agen began batting at the hem of his robes which had suddenly burst into flame.
Oskar turned and dashed for the wall. While Agen made his speech, Oskar had been whispering a fire spell and the fool hadn’t even noticed.
He reached the wall in five strides and began to climb its rough surface. He was almost at the top when something yanked him back. He hit the ground hard, the breath leaving him in a rush. He opened his eyes in time to see Agen raise his booted foot.
He rolled to the side as Agen stamped down where Oskar’s head had been a moment before. Oskar climbed to his hands and knees, trying to focus his will, but Agen’s foot sailed through the air and caught him on the side of the head. Had it been a direct blow Oskar would have been rendered unconscious. Still, it made his ears ring.
He managed to suck in a ragged breath as Agen drew back his foot to kick him again. Oskar hurled himself forward, caught Agen by the leg, and bore him to the ground.
Despite his bookish nature, back in Galsbur Oskar had been a fair wrestler and the training he had received under Master Lang’s tutelage had strengthened his body and honed his skills to a fine edge.
Using his weight to keep Agen down, he rained down punches onto the young man’s face. Agen blocked a few, but most found their target. Agen bucked, twisted, and jerked, trying to dislodge him, but Oskar maintained his balance. In a matter of seconds, Agen’s face was masked in bright red blood.
“You’ll have to kill me,” Agen said through split lips.
“Only if you’re stupid enough to make me.” Oskar rose up and Agen, feeling the absence of weight on his chest, turned over in a flash and tried to crawl away. It was what Oskar was waiting for. He came down on Agen’s back, slipped one arm around his neck, and squeezed. Agen squirmed and clawed at Oskar’s arm, but his grip held fast.
It was over in less than a minute. Agen’s body went limp as he lost consciousness. Exhausted, Oskar wobbled to his feet and looked down at his fallen opponent.
“Are you going to cut his throat or should I?” Oskar whirled about to see Lizzie perched on the wall, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. If you’d gotten into any serious trouble, I would’ve intervened.” She slid gracefully down off the wall, slinked over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “But you did well. I’m impressed.”
Although his world, or at least this little corner of it, seemed to be falling down around him, Oskar couldn’t help but smile. He slipped an arm around Lizzie’s waist and leaned down to kiss her.
“Hold on.” She pushed him away, turned toward Agen, who was beginning to stir, and kicked him in the temple. Agen flopped back to the ground. “Now, where were we?” She kissed him deeply, but not long enough for his liking.
“What are you doing here? I was coming to find you.”
Lizzie laughed. “Now that would have been something to see. You trying to find me in the city. Nice joke, country boy.” She saw the expression on his face and made a tiny frown. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right. Anyway, the city is abuzz with word of the little... problem you’re having here. I wanted to find you and make sure you’re all right.”
“I am for the moment, but the man who has taken over hates me and he wants to know what I know about Shanis and the Silver Serpent. I’m getting out of here before he catches up with me and I want you to come too.”
Lizzie didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” She kissed him again, this time in a much more satisfactory fashion. They might have stayed like that for hours, but they were soon interrupted by the arrival of Oskar’s friends.
“I might have known. Men are dying, the Gates is falling apart, Basilius is probably after you, and you stand here kissing a girl.” Naseeb looked down at Agen. “What happened to him?”
“He decided to kill me.”
“That didn’t work out for him, did it?” Whitt asked. Agen began to move again and Whitt kicked him in the groin. “Always wanted to do that.” He and Naseeb tied Agen up with his own shoelaces, stuffed a sock in his mouth and hid him beneath some nearby bushes. “That should keep him for a while.”
They divided their possessions and stuffed them into packs they found in the nearby armory.
“I didn’t have time to steal any food,” Naseeb said, “but we have money, so we’ll make do.”
They armed themselves, Whitt and Dacio with swords, Naseeb with a bow and quiver, and Oskar with a staff and belt knife. When they were ready, they all turned Oskar.
“Where to first?” Dacio asked.
Oskar found it odd to be thrust into a position of leadership. He considered the question. He needed to get to Shanis, but he wasn’t certain where she was, or that the five of them alone could make it to her without help.
“Archstone,” he said. “To find Larris.”