Half of Betharad’s morning slid away while she combed through the Archive for any relevant information the others had missed. She was not so naive to believe there would be a convenient document which contained a neat answer to her problems as they stood, but the most tangential hint might have proven useful. Even so, she admitted to herself that her real motivation was to become lost in the search, and forget her life was falling apart around her.
In the end, she was wasting her time; Urzed’s previous defeat had been accepted as final, and the knowledge she needed had died along with her parents.
As she emerged from the basement, frustrated and exhausted, the angle of the sun told her she had stayed much longer than she should have. Her grandmother had taken several large baskets of food to the protectors who were out searching for the twins, but she’d be home by now. Their house was much too large, too empty, with only herself and Elian in it, and they both needed each other more than ever. She pushed through her lassitude to hurry back.
The cloud cover was now almost complete, but their shape and colour said they would offer no relief in the way of rain. The humidity was getting more and more suffocating.
By the time she opened the outer door of their house, Betharad had convinced herself she was fully prepared for the eerie quiet inside, but the sound of echoing voices stopped her in her tracks. Hope surged in her breast that the twins had returned while she was tucked away in the Archive. She all but ran along the short corridor to the inner courtyard.
It was only when she’d almost reached the kitchen door that she stopped and listened. A loud argument was in progress inside, and while the words were muffled by the closed door, she recognised one of the voices—it was unusual to hear Elian arguing with anyone, and she sounded on the verge of shouting.
Whoever she was haranguing did not sound like either of the twins.
Betharad was weary in mind and body, and was tempted to slip upstairs to the sanctuary of her room. Why should she be the one to solve everyone else’s problems? Elian sounded more than capable of holding her own. But if the argument was relevant to the problems mounting up around them, Betharad was never going to pass up the opportunity to find out for herself.
She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the handle. The door wasn’t closed fast, and as it swung slightly ajar she heard an unfamiliar voice, say, “...made worse by the serious dereliction of your duty!”
“If you had given me the support you promised,” Elian retorted in the most hostile tone Betharad had ever heard her use, “the situation may not have become this bad!”
The tension needed to be eased; Betharad opened the door fully and the heated conversation broke off.
Her grandmother stood with her back against the iron stove. Her arms were crossed as she glared at two strangers on the other side of the table. Kavilas was next to Elian, tensed in a way that hinted he was ready to step in if needed, though the quizzical look he gave Betharad told her he had no more idea about what was going on than she did.
The main target of Elian’s ire was a man who looked as elderly as she was, if not more so. He was quite bald and clean shaven, and was garbed in travelling clothes much too warm for Naerun; fitted trousers, linen tunic and woollen vest. A thick cloak had been discarded over the back a chair. The faint scent of sweat soured the air, and she deduced they’d been travelling in a hurry.
“Betha, this is Amacet,” Elian explained. “He’s a custodian, from the Academy.” Her grandmother’s face was glowing red, though Betharad had trouble imagining how these visitors could have stolen her usual aura of serenity.
Despite Elian’s open hostility towards Amacet, meeting another custodian besides Mirul was tantalising. Her grandfather Tormas had died when she was thirteen, and her memories of him were those of a child. Had Amacet known her parents? He might be able to give her new insights about the people Veric and Maenna had been.
Not only that, but they were trained in how to use the Lifespring, unlike almost everyone else in Naerun. They were powerful and knowledgeable, and might have the solutions she needed to save the town from the Enjeb and recover her brother and sister unharmed. They would know what to do.
But Amacet’s eyes narrowed and his mouth set itself in a disdainful frown, implying her presence was inconvenient.
“Welcome to my hearth.” Saying the traditional words to a visitor gave Betharad time to compose her thoughts and squash down her annoyance. “May you find peace and shelter here.” She opened her palms to them in the proper gesture of greeting.
Amacet’s stare and lack of reply was ill-mannered in the face of her welcome. She was relieved when Amacet’s companion stepped forward and said, with the correct level of formality, “Well met, new friend, we bring peace and well wishes from afar.” He smiled and added, “My name is Relchen.”
He was tall and thin, and she guessed he was about twenty years her senior. Grey speckled his dark, wavy hair and closely trimmed beard. Unlike the older custodian, the lines on Relchen’s face and the sparkle in his blue eyes suggested he smiled a lot.
“And that,” said Elian, a harder edge to her voice as she gestured towards the corner of the room, “I’m told, is Niedde. Also from the Academy.”
Betharad was unsettled she’d failed to notice a small woman engrossed in a close inspection of the family’s bookshelves. All Betharad could see was the back of her head, thick brown hair cut short in a practical style. Betharad covered up the surprise she felt at such forwardness and prepared herself to offer a greeting, but Niedde didn’t so much as turn towards them or acknowledge she heard her own name. None of the others seemed to expect her to do so.
Elian cleared her throat. “Amacet, Relchen... this is Betharad—daughter of Veric and Maenna.”
In an instant, Amacet’s attitude changed from irritated indifference to unnerving interest, while Relchen’s smile widened even further. Niedde turned to look at her for the first time, and Betharad felt pinned to the wall behind her by the unyielding gaze in those dark eyes.
“Indeed?” the strange woman said. “And do you have any talent in using the Lifespring, as they did?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” Betharad replied, trying not to stammer. “I’ve never seen any evidence of it.” She considered mentioning Jessa’s recent hopes, but Niedde’s flat stare intimidated her.
“No, that is what I thought,” said Amacet, sounding disappointed. Betharad could not shake off the feeling she had been judged and found wanting, which sent a flare of irritation up her spine.
“A pity,” Niedde remarked, waving her hand in the air. “We have seen a tendency for it to run in families, and with both parents being Gifted, we had high hopes you would be too. Still, the knowledge will contribute to further research.”
Relchen’s smile turned into an embarrassed grimace, but before he could speak, Elian said, “I see time has not diminished your arrogance, has it, Amacet?”
The older man turned to her and said, “I’ve learnt being direct is the only way to ensure people do what they have been charged with.”
While Betharad was trying to work out what was going on, Elian’s eyes flashed and she retorted, “How dare you! I’ve done the best I could, with little help from anyone since Tormas died. I’ve heard nothing at all from you for years, and Mirul is quite simply the worst custodian I’ve ever met. He is utterly useless, and highly objectionable with it.”
Amacet’s lips thinned. “Mirul had his uses, but perhaps...” He was about to say more but then shook his head, dismissing the matter.
Kavilas cleared his throat. “I have to agree with Elian with regard to that. The man manages to make himself widely disliked in Naerun, and appears to have very little in the way of the skills we need from a custodian. In fact, I’d like to request that he be replaced.”
Betharad went and took Elian’s hand and squeezed it, as much to reassure her grandmother she was on her side, as to get her to calm down. The constant sniping was making it difficult to follow the conversation. In the silence that followed Betharad said, “Can I ask what you’re talking about?”
“Nobody has told you?” asked Niedde, a look on her face that reminded Betharad of a desert snake sizing up its next meal.
“Not everything.” The hard edge in Elian’s voice, and the steely glint in her eye, warned these strangers to take care.
But what in the world was this conversation about? They were aware of a secret, and judging from their reactions, one they did not want to share with her. The idea bolstered her determination.
“What are you hiding from me? I know the story by heart, how my parents saved Naerun from the Enjeb attack and died in the process.”
Relchen looked around as if he would rather not be in the room, while Amacet’s lips had thinned into a line, locking away the answers.
It was Niedde who replied, her tone so casual Betharad was unprepared for the words. “Your parents, along with Relchen here and several others, broke the oaths they swore when they became custodians, by conducting unlawful and unethical experiments on the Orufasu—you probably know it as the Serpentstone—at the fortress of Creonze.”
The entire sentence was so big, so incomprehensible, Betharad had to break it down into its components. Yet she found each of them just as disturbing in its own right. Unlawful experiments? The fortress of Creonze? The infamous Serpentstone?
The whole idea was incompatible with the image she had of her parents, at odds with how they were remembered in the town. She shook her head and looked at Kavilas, whose hard stare at the custodians could have bored holes through wood.
Betharad’s eyes locked with Elian’s, and she waited for the vehement protest about the reputation of her son and daughter-in-law being impugned like this. But her grandmother stayed silent, and looked at the floor.
There must be another explanation, a motivation that shed light on her parents’ decisions, even if it failed to fully excuse them. She swallowed hard. “I was a child then, but I gather they were desperate times after the Enjeb attacked Naerun. I’m... I’m sure they were doing what they could to help.” She looked at Relchen, wondering if he was going to confirm or deny her theory.
“They began before the Enjeb attack,” said Amacet, his voice hard and unforgiving.
She shifted her attention to the older custodian, trying to assimilate his words into the new picture she was building up in her mind. But there was still too much that eluded her, and the pieces refused to fit.
“Seems you’ve been told a heavily edited version of what occurred,” said Niedde. “You should know, it was the actions of your parents and their friends—the experiments on the Orufasu—that brought the Enjeb to Naerun in the first place.”
Betharad stared at them, aware her mouth had dropped open but unable to close it, or make a single sound. Niedde’s words were delivered in a clipped, almost dispassionate way, as if reciting from a book, but they obliterated Betharad’s ability to think, to look at the information and form a conclusion. This could not be true, her parents had given their lives to save the town from a terrible fate—they could not be responsible for causing it.
She straightened her back and looked at the custodians, ready to argue, until she saw Relchen nodding, his eyes full of guilt and sympathy.
She stumbled towards the nearest chair, her legs robbed of their remaining strength. “But... why did they...?” Words refused to come as she held tight to the image she had of her loving, brave parents, before it was torn down and lost.
Elian came over and put her arms around Betharad’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, my dear Betha, but they’re right.” Tears glinted in her eyes, but her fury was undiminished when she looked at Niedde and Amacet. “Though I’m sure you could have been told in a much kinder way. Your parents and their friends were all young and naive, and they failed to realise the full consequences of what they were doing until it was too late. But they did try to put things right, and paid a terrible price.”
It made sense Elian knew this shameful secret. Veric had been her own son, and she’d been in Naerun when the Enjeb attack had reached its deadly climax. But why had she kept the knowledge from Betharad?
She longed for the privacy of her room, where she could attempt to make some sense of these revelations. But she had no time to do that.
At least Kavilas was as astounded as she was. “This... seems incredible,” he said at last. “I’ve pored over the official records about the attack in the marshal’s office. I believe they were only put together after the event, and they’re quite sketchy. But all the same, I would have thought some of them would contain hints of what you’re telling us.”
“Nevertheless, it is all true,” said Niedde.
Betharad looked at Relchen. She had been starting to warm to him, by far the most friendly of these visitors. But after what she’d heard, it was difficult not to question his character.
He must have seen the disappointment in her eyes, because he said, “We used the Serpentstone to do some good, too. When the Enjeb started attacking Naerun, we used its power to make weapons to defend the townspeople as best we could.”
Betharad found herself shaking her head. How could anyone be so easily led into temptation, into believing that meddling with such forces was acceptable? It sounded as though those laws they had broken existed for good reason.
“Weapons?” asked Kavilas. “What sort of weapons?”
“Extremely dangerous ones,” said Amacet. “They did not understand the natures of what they had wrought, and lacked the ability to control them.” The old custodian turned his attention to Betharad, and she almost quailed under that stony gaze. “Fortunately, they did not use them. The weapons took the forms of corrupted creatures, which had the potential to be far more harmful than the Enjeb. They should never exist.”
It all sounded horrific, but her mind seized on Amacet’s use of the present tense—these weapons were still around. The thought disturbed her. But she knew why Kavilas had shown such a keen interest; as distasteful as their origin was, the idea of weapons gave Betharad’s reeling thoughts a tangible hold to cling to. “What happened to the... the creatures?”
Elian’s expression changed from sad to helpless, while Amacet and Relchen exchanged a glance Betharad was unable to interpret.
The silence lasted so long, she began to wonder if they knew the answer. Eventually Amacet replied, “We planned to destroy them, but that may have caused more harm than we were able to contain. So we did what we could to stop them from ever being used for evil purposes.”
Betharad sensed there was more to this than Amacet was telling her. No doubt the custodians had no clue where the creatures were. She was disappointed and annoyed none of them were prepared to be honest and admit it. If the weapons were as dangerous as they made out, it was sheer incompetence to have lost track of them. Kavilas’s lips had thinned to a line and he gave a slight shake of his head.
In the silence that followed, she remembered the large dog that had been haunting Naerun over the last few days. If anything at all fitted her own concept of a corrupted creature, it was that animal. Its size, ferocity and the supernatural intelligence in its eyes made more sense, now she knew what her parents had done. It would be no surprise to find out it was, in fact, one of these creatures made using the evil power of the Serpentstone.
She had thought only one dog troubled them, but she’d been naive. A whole pack of them could be roaming the countryside around the town, brimming with wild power.
Had Urzed brought the animals with him? There had been no sign of them when he’d come to the walls to issue his ultimatum, so there was a chance the Enjeb leader did not realise what they were. Or if he did, the custodians had succeeded and prevented him from exerting any sort of control over them. If he had, she was sure he would have used their tainted powers against Naerun already.
But that meant the townspeople might have the chance to gain control of them instead, and use them to obtain an advantage it badly needed. The creatures were dangerous, evil, and under other circumstances she would have been the first person to agree they should be destroyed. But they needed all the defensive capability they could get, if Naerun and its people were to survive.
“Why have you kept this all a secret?” Betharad asked, thinking about the wasted hours in the Archive that morning.
Kavilas’s eyes met hers before he looked at Amacet. “Exactly. If we’d known the truth years ago, we could have been prepared, with proper defences in place. We could have had the knowledge we needed to stop it from happening again.”
Elian said, “There are so many—”
Amacet cut her short. “It was deemed best.” His stony expression told her he was not planning to elaborate.
She looked again at Relchen. He’d been friends with her parents, or so Amacet had said. He probably remembered her as a child, though she could recall nothing about him. “Why have you waited so long to come back?”
His smile was awkward as he said, “I was sent into exile. If I returned here my sentence would be upgraded to something much worse.” He was clearly unwilling to say what could be worse, and shot a quick, worried glance at Amacet.
Betharad found it hard to sympathise with his situation, which was partly of his own making. Exile sounded like an appropriate punishment for what he had done. She tried not to wince as she realised the implications of that thought with regard to her own parents. Was she right to judge them so harshly when she found it next to impossible to understand?
She turned her attention back to Amacet, who, if her suspicions were right, had ordered her grandmother to keep quiet about this shame at the heart of their family. He was someone who would have answers. But his implacable face told her she would not get too many of those from him. So she resolved to tackle the matter later, when she had more time to measure his character and determine the best way to ask him.
It was only then that her brain resumed functioning as it should. Sarnd and Jessa! It should have been inconceivable that their predicament had been knocked out of her head by these disturbing revelations.
“Is there any way we can use the creatures to free the twins?”
“Who?” asked Niedde.
“Sarnd and Jessa - my sister and brother,” she replied. She tried to keep her voice smooth, though the burning anger at those rebellious councillors rose up once more. “They were coerced to give themselves up to Urzed, in exchange for Marico and Sariah.”
“Urzed?” asked Relchen, his voice faint. All the blood had drained from his face. He’d encountered the Enjeb leader before, and knew first-hand the man’s ruthlessness and cruelty.
“You gave me no chance to explain!” Elian protested when Amacet turned a thunderous look on her, though her grandmother wore a guilty expression all the same. The shared history between these two was yet another tangled web.
“At least you took my message seriously,” said Kavilas.
“We received no message,” said Amacet. “Not even from Elian, who swore she would make contact as soon as there was any sign of trouble.” Elian opened her mouth to protest, but the custodian pressed ahead. “No, we came because Relchen breached his exile to inform us something was amiss, and we came to investigate. Though we did not know how dire the situation had become, until now. I think we need to find out exactly what has been going on here.”
“Can we afford to delay any longer?” she asked them, an overwhelming sense of urgency filling her. “They’ve been gone since last night.”
Amacet shook his head. “There are more forces at play here than you would understand. Even for experienced custodians, the situation will be challenging. I do share your desire to reach your brother and sister as soon as possible, before Urzed has a chance to put his schemes in motion. But we cannot rush in without assessing all the information and developing a containment plan.”
Betharad took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Very well.” Remembering her role as host, she pushed herself to her feet, though her whole body protested. “Please, seat yourselves. Would you like refreshments?”
Helping her grandmother in the kitchen gave Betharad a few minutes to regain her composure, and sort through the shattering events of the last few days, so she could explain them in a coherent way, and gain the best advice they could give.
It should be a relief to lay out what she knew, and her fears for the twins and the town. Amacet and Niedde represented the Academy, where people worked for years researching and understanding the Lifespring and other arcane forces that shaped the world. They were far more knowledgeable than any local resident custodian Betharad had met, even her own grandfather, and they surely had the insight and wisdom she needed.
The problem was, her instincts were warning her not to place any trust in them.