Magic Lost, Trouble Found

I wasn’t the only one who sensed it. I was also certain Mychael Eiliesor had no illusions about who and what he was dealing with.

“Take the boy and go.”

Eiliesor’s voice was calm—and inside my head. Piaras was as transfixed on the scene before us as I was. I wasn’t about to wait for the Guardian to change his mind. I began backing away, pulling Piaras with me. I was sure Mychael Eiliesor could take care of himself. You didn’t get to be paladin if you couldn’t. I was in no condition to take care of anyone right now, and it wasn’t just me who was in danger. I had Piaras to think of.

“Go. I can deal with this.”

I hesitated a moment longer, then we ran.

Chapter 13

We found our way out of The Ruins at the south end of the Sorcerers District near the canal at Rowan Street. It wasn’t close to where I wanted to be, but since what I wanted most was to be out of The Ruins, I wasn’t going to quibble about the details.

The streets were deserted, which I expected for both the hour and section of town. Rowan Street was largely residential, and the residents were asleep. I would like to have been asleep in my bed, but for the moment I was just grateful to be breathing.

Piaras and I were doing our fair share of that. Once I got my bearings—and my legs back under me—the final sprint through The Ruins was uneventful, but we were both more than a little winded. Running, combined with multiple near-death experiences, will do that to you.

Once over the bridge separating The Ruins from the District, we quickly crossed Rowan Street and stopped well out of the lamplight next to a vacant townhouse. We needed a moment to catch our breath, but the last thing I wanted to do was set off anyone’s house wards.

“We can’t go home, can we?” Piaras asked. From his tone, he knew the answer to that one as well as I did.

“Not yet. We’re not far from Phaelan’s ship. We’ll go there first. I’ll have him send word to Garadin. I need to talk to him. We’ll also let Tarsilia know that we’re safe.”

“But we’re not safe.”

I got the feeling Piaras really wanted me to tell him he was wrong. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that.

“Safe is relative,” I told him. “We’re not within a mile of Sarad Nukpana or anyone named Mal’Salin. That’ll have to do for now.”

I knew what was hanging around my neck. Now I needed to know how to get rid of it, without it or anyone else getting rid of me. Mychael Eiliesor was best qualified to tell me how. He would be looking for me, but I was going to find him first. Enough was enough.

Piaras didn’t say anything else, but I could virtually hear the wheels turning in his head. He had done a lot of growing up tonight. You didn’t get to choose the events that boosted you into adulthood. If you were lucky, it was an event that in the future would trigger pleasant memories. If you weren’t lucky, you got nightmares. What I said next might keep the awakening-to-your-own-screams part to a minimum for Piaras. No doubt he was trying to make sense of everything he had seen tonight—including me. But I thought I owed him the assurance that, unlike the things that had attacked us, I wasn’t a monster. It’d be nice if I could believe it myself.

I wanted to ask Piaras about what he’d done to the Magh’Sceadu, or what he’d tried to do. It was a repelling spell, something every magic user should know for their own protection, but it was in goblin and Piaras had done it very well. Almost too well. I wanted to be sure it had been either Tarsilia or Garadin who had taught it to him, but I decided it would be better not to bring that up right now. The less Piaras dwelled on what had almost happened to us, the better.

That brought up something I wanted to forget completely.

You have your father’s eyes.

Suddenly, a cloaked and hooded figure came running around the end of the next block. This time of the night, anyone in that big of a hurry couldn’t have been up to any good. He spotted us immediately, and Rowan Street really didn’t offer any places to hide.

The man, or whatever, had come from the direction of the outer city, not The Ruins. That was one point in his favor, though I wasn’t ready to award him any more. I stood my ground, and Piaras did likewise. We had more than had our fill of cloaked and hooded figures, and were sick, quite literally, of running. Besides, there was only one of him. After Nukpana’s pet shadow monsters, I felt able to deal with anything one lone figure could dish out. And if magic wasn’t enough, there were always my favorites—fists, knees, or steel. I drew my ill-gotten knives. I was armed and ready. He might as well know it.

The figure stopped about ten feet away from us and threw back his hood.

“I thought you two would be happier to see me,” Garadin said.

When finally I found my voice, it was a little higher than usual. “Are you trying to get yourself skewered? Don’t run at people like that!”

Garadin went to Piaras first and enfolded him in a crushing hug. I still had bare blades in my hands, so I guess I couldn’t fault his first choice. I sheathed them.

“How did you find us?” Piaras asked, when Garadin let him breathe again.

“How could I not find you?” My godfather gave me the same bone-crushing hug. “I’m surprised you two didn’t wake up the entire District.” He held me at arms length and gave me an accusing look. “You took the amulet off again, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly. By the way, we can add a couple of names to the list of people who want this thing. Chigaru Mal’Salin is one of them.”

That tidbit surprised Garadin.

“Piaras and I were his guests for the evening,” I said. “He told me what the amulet is and what it does. We’d still be there, but we didn’t want to outstay our welcome, so we left. The prince thought we were being rude and invited us back.”

“His invitation involved swords and crossbows,” Piaras clarified.

“And I ran into Sarad Nukpana again,” I continued to Garadin, who still looked a little stunned. “He has his new pet king with him. I’ll give you all the details, but we might want to go somewhere less public first.”

Phaelan’s ship was moored in the deepest part of the lagoon. Though Mermeia had ample deepwater docks, Phaelan had exchanged his dock in Whitaker Creek for a mooring after our encounter at Nigel’s. He valued his ship and his crew, and always said he felt safer surrounded by water. I thought it was a good idea then. I thought it was an even better idea now. Anybody can walk down a wooden dock; no one I knew could walk on water.

Oddly enough, my fear of water didn’t extend to a fear of being on a ship. Boats were another matter. Boats were small. Boats could tip over. To me, a ship was like a big wooden island. As a general rule, islands didn’t sink. I applied the same rule to ships. I knew ships could sink, but since one had yet to sink under me, I saw no reason to change my rule.

Garadin went to arrange transportation while Piaras and I waited hidden behind a stack of crab pots awaiting repair. Drake’s Landing was home to the majority of Mermeia’s fishermen, and was bustling and noisy as the boats were coming in from a night of fishing. There was more than enough controlled chaos going on to hide a pair of newly fugitive elves.

The sunrise was still hours away. I had seen the sunrise yesterday and had hoped to avoid being awake for it today. Now I was just grateful to be alive.

“Some of Maira’s sugar knots would be nice right now,” Piaras said wistfully.

From his uncertain glance, food wasn’t all Piaras had on his mind. He just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

I had a pretty good idea what he wanted to talk about.

“Sugar knots would be good,” I agreed, looking out over the harbor. Part of me was perfectly willing to wait for Piaras to bring up the subject in his own time; the other part just wanted to get it over with. I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t understand what had happened to me either, so I certainly wasn’t qualified to explain it to anyone else. But once we got out to the Fortune, I was going to be explaining it to Garadin, or at least trying to, so I might as well start practicing now.

Piaras beat me to it. Patience wasn’t high on the list of teenage virtues. It wasn’t at the top of mine, either.

“Are you all right?”

His voice was quiet and the question tentative, as if he already knew the answer, but didn’t really want to hear it. He wasn’t inquiring about my health. He wanted to know if the Raine who had come out of The Ruins was the same Raine who had gone in. It was a good question. I wished I knew the answer.

“I don’t know.”

He just stood there, looking at me with those big brown eyes, and in one terrible moment, I thought he was going to cry. Psychotic goblin brothers, Khrynsani shamans, various creatures of the night, even Sarad Nukpana—those I could take. What I could not take was Piaras going to pieces on me. At this point, I’d probably join him.

I waved my hands frantically. “No, no. Don’t cry.” I blinked back misties of my own. “If you cry, I’ll cry, and I don’t want to cry.”

Piaras didn’t cry, but he took a shuddering breath, which was just as bad. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten myself caught, none of this would have happened.” His voice was on the verge of breaking. “We’d both be home right now, and you wouldn’t have had to use…” He gestured vaguely and helplessly at where the beacon rested beneath my shirt. “…that thing, and…”

I was going to put a stop to this right now, before the salty sting in my eyes went any further.

“That thing’s the reason we’re still alive. I don’t know what happened to me, but it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, except maybe a nine-hundred-year-old dead Guardian who couldn’t keep track of his own necklace. But he’s not around for us to yell at.”

Piaras sniffed, then wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve. I resisted the urge to do the same.

He swallowed, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “What are you going to do?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">