The Eighth Warden Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Ivy Veritas
Chapter 9
Bobo closed his eyes when Leena reached for him, and when he opened them again, he and Razai were in a new place—in what appeared to be a child’s bedroom in a large house.
Corec and Nedley were there waiting for them. “Thanks for coming,” Corec said. “I wasn’t sure either of you would be willing.”
“Tell me what you want, then I’ll decide,” Razai said.
“I need a better idea of what’s going on,” Corec said. “So far, we haven’t had word of soldiers coming our way, which doesn’t make any sense. Rusol has to have some idea of what’s happening here. He sent one of his bondmates, a wizard, to arrest my father, and the knights managed to kill the man. Queen Yassi says Rusol’s forces took Telfort Tower nearly a week ago, but she claims there still aren’t any troops heading this direction, and I don’t know whether to trust her or not. I need someone who can get in and out.”
Razai sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. The sooner this is over, the better.” She headed for the door. “This way?”
“Take a left at the hall, then down the stairs. Ned, show her the way and get her a map of the mountains. And a horse if she wants one.”
“Of course I want a horse,” she said, stopping in the doorway. “I”m not going to walk the whole damned way.” She hesitated, then turned back to face them. “I’ll spy for you, but I won’t kill Rusol. He’s my nephew.”
“What?” Corec said. “How?”
“How do you think?” Razai said.
“Queen Merice is...?”
“Not Merice. Benere. Grand-nephew, I should have said. I’m older than I look.”
“But...”
She grinned at the stunned look on his face. “See you around, maybe. I won’t stop you from going after Rusol, but I have to draw the line somewhere. If something happens to me, my father might come looking. If he does, tell him ... tell him thank you, I guess. Don’t trust him, but give him a chance.”
“Wait!” Corec called as she strode out the door. “Who’s your father?”
Her voice came back from down the hall. “You’ll figure it out!”
Ned hurried after her, leaving the other two men alone.
“Well, that’s a bit of gossip, isn’t it?” Bobo said. “And that leaves me, I suppose. Not sure I can be much help with this sort of thing.”
Corec stared at the open doorway for a moment longer before turning to face him. “You know more about your blessings than you let on,” he said. “You always have, so don’t try to deny it. I’ve put up with the hints and the teases in the past, but I could really use your help now.”
Bobo nodded. “All right, what do you need?”
“I don’t want Rusol to know what we’re up to,” Corec said. “Or the Sanvari Seers, for that matter. Treya hasn’t been able to figure out a warding spell against scrying. She doesn’t believe she has the right blessing. Have you given any more thought to it?”
“I understand the concept, but I don’t have that sort of strength,” Bobo said. “With some practice, I could maybe ward the spot you’re standing on, but I don’t think I could cover the village or hide your soldiers.”
“If the problem’s just strength, there’s a way around that,” Corec said. “You’ve never asked about it, but...”
Bobo raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t figure I met your general requirements.”
Corec flushed. “That was ... an accident. I had brothers growing up, no sisters, and then I went to the knights, and then the caravan guards. I’d spent my whole life around men, and the only women I ever got to know were tavern girls. I didn’t mean to cast the binding spell only on women. I think I just ... needed a change after all those years. But I can control it now.”
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be a better idea to bond Zhailai, or one of Ellerie’s students?”
“They’re not really part of our group,” Corec said. “Shavala’s barely around these days herself, and I doubt Zhailai would want to stay in the free lands. I don’t know Ellerie’s wizards very well. But you’ve been with us since the beginning.”
Bobo considered the offer. He’d been comfortable staying in the background as his friends grew more and more powerful. He could take advantage of their strengths while focusing his time on his own pursuits. The blessings he’d received from Fox had changed things, but not by much. Bobo had remained coy about what he knew of his abilities, using them only as needed. The spells he’d mastered were small, personal. He was no Sarette or Shavala, able to alter the tide of an entire battlefield. Nor was he like Corec or Ariadne, capable of standing strong in the midst of an enemy army.
Did he really want to change that? And would it change? Treya was a priestess, but not all of her strength came from her divine blessings. Some came from her training as a mystic. And his gifts differed from hers. What would he become, and was it a role he wanted to play?
Still, he probably owed Corec and the others a debt for putting up with him all this time. And the promise of long life was enticing. It would give him plenty of time to continue his studies ... provided he lived through this next little war.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Corec nodded. “Then it’s done.”
“What sort of rune did you use?” Bobo asked. There weren’t any mirrors in the room to let him see his own forehead.
“A book. It seemed to fit. It’s showing now, but Treya can teach you how to hide it.”
“I don’t feel any different.”
“There’s not much to feel,” Corec said. “And it’ll take months before it has any obvious effect on your spell-casting. Maybe too late to help us here, but if we can hold out until spring, perhaps it’ll come in handy.”
The bear trap lay along a lightly used game trail, partly hidden by fallen leaves. A cruel device, and useless here—the old dragon had chased off all the large prey decades ago. If the trap managed to catch a rabbit or raccoon, it would mangle the hide to the point where no one would buy it.
Shavala used a fallen tree branch to trigger the pressure plate, causing the jaws to snap together. She gathered up the trap, then hiked to a nearby creek and tossed it into a deep fishing hole, dark enough to hide the bottom from view—joining the six others she’d collected over the past week.
The pair of trappers were new to Shavala’s territory and had been cautious in their approach, though that caution was probably due more to the dragon flying overhead than anything she’d done. She doubted they’d ever even noticed her, but she’d watched them on an almost daily basis. Each day, as soon as they were out of sight, she’d snuck in to cut their rabbit snares into tiny pieces, removing their larger traps when she was certain she wouldn’t be observed.
She’d insisted to Ezra back in Hilltop that his shop wasn’t to sell bear traps, and Corec hadn’t countermanded her orders. That would make it difficult for the trappers to replace their devices. If they got the message soon and switched to less invasive hunting methods, she’d leave them in peace. If not, she’d have to use a more direct approach.
Done with her first task for the day, she headed back to the cave, soon passed by a scattering of moths going in the same direction. The moths were hardy enough that they could range out into the world as long as the temperature didn’t drop too low overnight, but accustomed as they were to eternal darkness, they often got confused and lost when the sun came up, and wouldn’t return until they’d managed to reorient themselves.
During the day, they appeared similar to any other moth, though with a faint hint of iridescent lavender mixed in with their normal gray. In the dark, they glowed a brilliant purple, and Shavala enjoyed lying on the hillside at night and watching them fly out of the cave in a whirling cloud of color.
Local birds had taken to hunting those that were caught out during the day, but so far, new moths were hatching at a steady pace, keeping the population stable. Whatever purpose the staff had in creating the creatures, they weren’t as fragile as Shavala had first feared. She was hopeful for their chances.
Back at the cave, she found Risingwind returning from a hunting trip, a dead sheep hanging from his mouth. He landed with a rush of air and dropped the carcass to the ground, then began tearing into it happily.
“Did you steal that from a farmer?” she asked. There were no wild sheep in the area.
The only response she got was his sense of pride for a successful catch.
The dragon’s hunting was becoming a problem. He needed larger and larger game, and with none nearby, he had to fly far enough away that she could no longer accompany him. Stealing a farmer’s stock would cause trouble, but even if he’d been hunting wild game, a man with a longbow might kill him out of fear or surprise. As young as he was, his scales hadn’t started hardening yet, still needing more flexibility to accommodate his rapid growth.
For the moment, at least, his flights were limited in duration, but that wouldn’t last long. He was growing stronger by the day, and soon he’d be able to fly across his mother’s entire hunting range. While the people near Hilltop were accustomed to him, that wouldn’t hold true farther out. He could easily cause a panic if he killed a farmer’s animals, or even if he simply tried to make friends, and since Shavala couldn’t go with him, she couldn’t prevent any potential incidents.
She’d puzzled over potential solutions. Should she try to take him to Cetos after all? He was too large now for Leena to transport, but perhaps when he was a bit older, he’d be able to make the flight on his own. Yet how could she teach him the way to get there? And he was part of the tree bond now. Sending him to a far-off land would be cruel—Zhailai had said there were no elves or tershaya in Cetos.
Perhaps the answer was closer to home. Shavala had given over much of her earnings from Tir Yadar to help fund the expedition against Risingwind’s mother, but she still had some of it left. Would it be enough to ask one of the newly arrived ranchers to set aside some cattle for her? Not for the first time, she wished she’d paid more attention when Meritia and Katrin had tried to teach her the value of the metal coins she carried.
And there was a third option she hadn’t quite worked up the courage yet to try. Risingwind was larger than a pony now, nearly the size of a horse. As the two of them had gone foraging throughout the autumn, he’d often carried a pair of saddlebags for her, strapped around the spot where the base of his neck met his back. Shavala weighed more than the saddlebags did ... but she weighed less than an adult sheep.
She was still pondering the problem when a rider approached, one of the soldiers from Hilltop. Risingwind had fallen asleep after his meal, enjoying the shining sun despite the coolness of the air, but the soldier’s horse still refused to approach. The young man had to dismount and walk up the slope on foot.
“Lady Elf,” he said, with an unpracticed bow, “Lady Katrin asks if you can come to the keep this afternoon, and bring the dragon with you.”
“Did she say why?” Shavala asked. The noise had awakened Risingwind, and he glanced back and forth between the two of them.
“I think there are visitors coming?” the soldier said. “I’m not sure.”
What could that mean?
“Tell her I’ll be there shortly,” Shavala said.
“Yes, Miss.”
The trip to the keep was easy enough, just seven miles from the cave, but Risingwind knew the way and was always eager to visit. As soon as he figured out where they were going, he would fly ahead. She’d have to walk the whole way there, arriving two hours after him. She couldn’t risk keeping a riding horse at the cave—tree bond or not, Risingwind would still see it as a prey animal if she wasn’t watching over him the whole time.
While the soldier made his way back down the hill to his own horse, Shavala went inside the cave and found the saddlebags she and Risingwind had been using. Removing the bags and taking just the straps, she went back outside. A saddle wouldn’t fit over his back, even if she’d had one with her, and she would need something to hold onto. The dragon stared at her curiously as she approached.
“I have an idea,” she told him, holding up the straps. “You might not like it.”
Katrin waited near the stone steps leading up to the keep while Kevik and three of his new knights greeted the visitors. He and Trentin had added eight men from Cason’s group to their Order. The other four were helping Cason build up a heavy cavalry unit.
“Why do you want to frighten them?” Shavala murmured as she stood nearby, cleaning mud from Risingwind’s claws.
“Not frighten,” Katrin said. “Impress. Treya had to cancel the meeting with the southern mayors when Corec went to Larso, but nobody knew he’d told the northern mayors they could come for a visit anytime they wanted. They only gave me a single day’s warning. They’re expecting Corec and I can’t give them Corec, so this was the next best thing.”
“Why not just tell them to come back later?” the elven woman asked.
“Corec’s going to be gone for months, at least through the winter and probably longer. If Ellerie and I can’t handle matters here ... well, we have to handle matters here. But we need to show that things aren’t going to fall apart just because he’s gone, so I thought of Risingwind and the knights.”
The plan seemed to be working, though the newcomers were practically ignoring the knights, their eyes wide as they stared at a seemingly tame dragon calmly holding out a talon for Shavala to scrub.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kevik said, leading the visitors over, “this is Katrin of Tyrsall, the lady of the keep, and the druid Shavala and her dragon.”
Ten men had come, a mix of village mayors and their representatives. Harri and the other grooms had already led the group’s horses away to the outer stables.
“Welcome to Hilltop Village,” Katrin said. “Please, come this way.”
She and Kevik led them up the steps and into the keep’s entrance hall, and then to the meeting chamber Corec had ordered built from one half of the keep’s original great hall. Ellerie and Boktar were already there waiting, which necessitated a round of introductions.