Chapter 12

Rusol stood atop the southernmost guard tower, comparing the map he carried to the direction in which he sensed Yassi’s bond. She’d finally stopped moving. West, then south, and now she was to the southeast. Exactly where he’d expected.

He had to force down a sudden surge of anger at her treachery. Why did she leave? She was his wife! She was carrying his child! She should have been in the palace under the care of a midwife, but instead she’d fled, managing to elude the royal guards. And she’d taken Merice with her for some reason. That was a lesser betrayal, perhaps, but Merice had always been kind to Rusol. Plus, she was the last of his family, not counting the various cousins scattered around the city. They’d always ingratiated themselves with Marten and Rikard, never attempting to worm their way into Rusol’s good graces until after Rikard had died.

Nearly as worrying as why Yassi had left was how she’d managed it. In all the orders Rusol had given her over the years, he’d never specifically said she wasn’t allowed away from the city, but that shouldn’t have been necessary. His other commands had always ensured her obedience and compliance. What had changed?

The only possible answer he’d come up with was his final order to her—to protect their child from the wardens, and from Corec in particular. Had Yassi Seen something in her visions that frightened her so much it overrode all the other restrictions she was working under? What could it have been, and why hadn’t she told him? Even if she’d been under a compulsion to flee the city, she could have left a note.

Or what if he’d missed something, some faulty order that allowed her to betray him deliberately? Could the same thing happen with his other bondmates? How could he ensure their loyalty without issuing so many commands they lost their capacity to act without his constant supervision?

At least there were two he could depend on—even if it was for their own reasons.

He returned to the palace and tracked them down in the trophy room. They were alone there, huddled together in whispered conversation. When they saw him, they jerked away from each other, looking guilty.

Magnus recovered first. “Rus, hello! Looking for us?”

Rusol hesitated. Were Magnus and Kolvi walking out together? He’d always been under the impression they disliked each other.

He could ask about it, but neither of them liked discussing their private lives. If he had to start forcing them to do things, they’d become no better than his other bondmates. He decided to let the issue go.

“Yassi’s in Sanvara City,” he said instead.

“So, you were right, then,” Magnus said.

Kolvi shook her head. “I didn’t think she’d be so obvious. If she’s trying to get away, why go to the only family she has outside of Telfort?” Kolvi didn’t think much of Rusol’s theory that Yassi might have fled to protect the baby from the other wardens.

“Obvious or not,” he said, “we know where she is. But that doesn’t solve the problem—she’ll be able to See anyone who’s coming after her.”

“I hope you’re not still thinking of sending us,” Magnus said.

That had been Rusol’s first plan. Who better to retrieve his wayward queen than these two? But neither of them wanted to spend months traveling to Sanvar and back, and if they went, he’d be stuck relying on his other bondmates.

“No,” he said. “I had a better idea. I’m going to send someone she’ll never suspect.”

Ariadne paced back and forth in the guest bedroom she’d been using. “What if she misses the time again?” she asked.

“We’re a few minutes early,” Sarette replied. “If she doesn’t make it today, we still have tomorrow.” They’d scheduled three possible days, since Leena wasn’t sure how busy she’d be. She’d already missed the first one.

Then she was there, appearing before their eyes—but she stumbled and had to grasp Ariadne’s arm to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Sarette asked, coming to support her other side.

“I just need a minute,” the other woman said. “It’s been busy. Corec’s in Larso, so I’ve been checking on him as often as I can.”

“Larso?” Ariadne asked. “Is there trouble?”

“He’s worried Rusol has found out about his family. But it’s been two days and he hasn’t signaled for help, so I figured it was safe to come here. You’re going first, right?”

“Yes, but could you take me to Tyrsall before we go back to the keep?” Ariadne asked. Then, taking in Leena’s state, she added, “Or I can stay in Tyrsall for a few days if you need more time.” She could see if Peregrine was in port—and if Loofoo was still part of the crew.

Leena shook her head. “It’ll be fine. I’ll have to rest while we’re there, but if we’re going to do it, we should do it today. I have to go back for Corec tomorrow, and then I’ll need to spend some time in Sanvar.” To Sarette, she said, “It may be another week before I can make it back here.”

“You don’t need to come back,” Sarette said. “I’ll fly.”

Ariadne exchanged glances with Leena.

“All the way to the keep?” Ariadne asked. “That’s got to be close to a thousand miles.”

“A bit over a thousand if I fly straight, but I’ll probably cut across the plains instead. The storms are heavier there. I should be able to get three hundred miles on a good day.”

“Have you ever flown that much before?”

“No, but Vartus says I should. He thinks I’ve spent too much time riding and not enough time in the air.”

“I don’t know,” Leena said. “It doesn’t feel right to just leave you here. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I might even make it to the keep before you could have gotten back here, but if the weather clears up and it takes longer, I still need the practice.”

Leena nodded. “All right. If it takes more than a week, though, I’ll come looking for you.”

Ariadne grabbed her travel pack and gave Sarette a quick wave. “Will you thank your uncle for allowing me to stay here?”

“Certainly.”

Leena reached for Ariadne and then suddenly they were elsewhere.

Ariadne left Leena resting at an inn in the market district, then made her way alone to the largest of The Lady’s temples in the city. The courtyard held a marble statue of a mother carrying a babe in her arms. Ariadne shivered at the sight. The Chosar didn’t make statues of people, only of totems, and the thing made her think of a golem taking away a child.

Even ignoring the creepiness, the statue didn’t make any sense. These people thought of The Lady as the goddess of families and children, but Hera had never married or had children. Was there some reason for the odd bit of lore, or had her followers made up false stories about her?

Inside the doors, Ariadne was greeted by a young priest wearing the gray and white robes of the order.

“Welcome, visitor,” the man said. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to speak to The Lady,” Ariadne said.

“Of course. Our sermons are given mid-morning, followed by an hour of worship each day, but you’re welcome to sit in the hall or approach the altar on your own. There’s an offering bowl if you’d like to make a donation.”

“No,” Ariadne said. “I want to speak to The Lady directly. Is there a blessed priest here who receives visions?”

“All are blessed in the presence of The Lady,” the man said.

Ariadne rolled her eyes. Back at the temple in Snow Crown, it hadn’t taken her long to realize the priests didn’t want to discuss their blessings with an outsider, nor admit to not having been so blessed. Perhaps they thought it would hurt the legitimacy of the Orders if people realized most priests had no more of a connection to their god or goddess than any random person off the street.

“I’m sure they are,” she said, “but I want to talk to someone who’s actually been blessed with divine magic. Who’s in charge here?”

A few nearby parishioners had turned to listen to the conversation. The priest eyed Ariadne warily. She’d seen the expression before. In this time and place, full plate armor was considered a sign of wealth or power. He wanted to get rid of her without causing a commotion, but he wasn’t sure who she was and didn’t want to risk offending someone important.

“High Priestess Carolin ministers to this temple, but she’s very busy,” he said. “I promise, The Lady will hear any prayers you send.”

“Is that so? Fine.” Ariadne raised her voice. “Hera!” she called out. “Enough of this nonsense! If your priests can’t help, then talk to me yourself!”

By now, everyone in the hall was watching. An older, matronly priestess rushed over.

“What’s going on?” the new woman hissed under her breath.

“Are you Carolin?”

“She wants to speak to the High Priestess or to The Lady herself,” the young priest explained.

“The High Priestess isn’t here right now,” the newcomer said. “I’m Priestess Breda. If you’d like to speak to The Lady, you’ve come to the right place. She’ll hear your prayers. There’s no need to shout.”

“I don’t want to pray to her,” Ariadne said. “I want to talk to her. Does she send you visions? Tell her that a Mage Knight of Tir Yadar is looking for her. I suspect she’ll want to speak with me.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Breda said. “Our Lady sends visions when she wishes, not when we—” Her eyes went blank and she froze in place.

“Breda?” the man asked, a concerned look on his face.

Breda suddenly drew in a sharp breath, her eyes darting around anxiously. “I ... she spoke to me! She hasn’t done that since—” She saw Ariadne, and her face went white. “Sh ... sh ... she says I have to help.”

The priestess reached out to touch Ariadne’s temples with trembling fingers. The temple and all the people in it faded away, and Ariadne was alone in a place of swirling gray mists.

Then a new figure took shape, emerging from the fog. It truly was her, though her ears were rounded and her face less angular, allowing her to pass as a human.

Hera. One of the wardens who’d destroyed everything Ariadne had known, and her predecessor in the Mage Knights.

“I apologize for coming to you this way,” the woman said, staring past Ariadne’s left ear. “Your name is Ariadne, yes? I think that was it. I don’t remember everything, but you and I met a very, very long time ago. Sometimes I don’t know how much of me is still that woman, and how much is something else.”

Ariadne fought down a rush of anger. “What did you do? What happened to the—?”

Hera spoke over her. “By now, I’m sure you’ve learned about the destruction caused by the ritual. You must hate us. All I can say in our defense is that we didn’t know what would happen. In pride and ignorance, we unleashed chaos that overwhelmed the world for more than a century.”

She was still looking off to the side. Ariadne realized the other woman could neither see nor hear her, yet the words confirmed that the wardens had been responsible for whatever had happened.

“It affected our people more than most,” Hera said. “The wildstorms—remember this! Now that you’ve left stasis, you must avoid Donvar or any other source of wild magic until you master a spell to protect yourself. The wildstorms unmake our people. To protect the Chosar, they had to become something new. And so were born our children—children of the stone, the sea, the storms, and the sun. They lived on, but the world changed and our empire was no more. Our people splintered into small nations, separate from each other.”

That was too much information to take in all at once, but Hera was still speaking.

“Whether the wizards who crafted the ritual knew more than the rest of us, I can’t say, but we’ve spent the past five thousand years hiding what we did. We hide our secret shame, and we pretend we saved the world with our gifts of divine magic—a world that we ourselves ended with our arrogance, and a magic we stole from the totems. Anything you might have heard about the ritual, do your best to forget it. It’s too dangerous to allow that knowledge loose in the world.”

Hera glanced to her left, though at what, Ariadne couldn’t see.

“I don’t have much time,” the woman continued. “We place restrictions on ourselves to prevent interference, but I have to say this—if you had family or friends in the inner city of Tir Yadar, they likely escaped to the Skotinos Mountains. Most did. I wish I could tell you more. And I saw a glimpse of your future. I saw you die in stasis, and I saw you live, provided you were bonded to a warden. I didn’t realize ... I didn’t know the same would be true for all the Mage Knights. I could have saved seven more, but I didn’t know!”

Hera took a moment to calm herself. “But you lived, and that’s something to celebrate,” she said. “There are many roads you can take, many paths you can follow, and I can’t see where they all end. We’ve interfered with your life too much already. I release you of all obligations—to the Chosar, to the Mage Knights, and to me. Your future is your own.”

The vision faded away and Ariadne awoke, still standing in the temple.

“What happened?” Breda demanded. “What did she say?”

Ariadne ignored her, her mind racing. Had Hera just admitted to bonding her? And that was the least important of what she’d said. Ariadne’s parents and sisters may have lived! If what Hera said was true, they could have made it to the Skotinos Mountains, the first home of the stoneborn—who were also Chosar. Boktar was Chosar; Sarette was Chosar; even Loofoo was Chosar.