“You will not sunder him?”
Vantra glanced at the tent flap, then at Katta; he raised a sardonic eyebrow and returned to the pages he sifted through.
Elora’s tearful question met with a weary sigh. “Not yet.” A tinge of exasperation colored Erse Parr’s voice. “We shall see, after he heals, what should be done. He has committed great wrongs against the peoples of the rainforest, the plants, the animals, and there will be recompense. He must Redeem, and the first of that is to repair his mind. There is no use in causing greater harm to a madman. He must be whole, to accept the weight of guilt and punishment.”
Erse pushed through the tent flap, and Vantra caught the shing of hate that marred Elora’s face before the fabric fell back into place. She did not understand the priestess’s insistence on seeing Kjiven escape justice, but she hounded Death about it, to the point she strained the deity’s patience. Restitution had not found him centuries ago, but it would now.
Katta settled the pages on the table and sank back into his chair, eyes half-lidded in weariness. The syimlin maintained their hold on the rainforest, and would continue until Navosh told them it was safe to stop—if he ever woke up. Three days asleep seemed too long, but Ayara kept him hydrated and fed and snapped at Yissik and Zepriz when their worry turned to snipping at each other.
Poor Navosh. Maybe that was why he chose to remain asleep.
“Have you found anything?” Erse asked as she settled in the chair that did not have books, paperwork, or other odd ends sitting on it.
“Much and not enough.” Katta slumped down and rubbed his eyes. “I’m certain we’ll discover more and make connections once we’ve gone through what we’ve collected, but three days is not enough time to collect the information, let alone ingest it. I’ve sent for Shades and Light scholars to work through all this,” and he swept his hand through the air. Papers, boxes of items, chests, and other materials littered the space, with more from the Courtlee Grace castle and the undercity mercenary habitation stored at a warehouse owned by an Aristarsian in Selaserat. Even more trickled in as the Light-blessed took it upon themselves to raid the government offices in the port, looking for evidence concerning the motivations of Hrivasine, his nymph advisor, Anmidorakj, and the councilors who vacated their duties.
The remaining ranked officials hated the interference. The Light-blessed showed them documents Erse Parr signed that granted them the right to investigate—and word reached the camp that more than one had fled the port before questioning.
Katta said Chisterdelle took the opportunity to plant her butt in Hrivasine’s seat and declared the mapmakers the new authorities. No one had confronted her on it—yet. Vantra bet a certain rivcon would have a different take on who should lead, even if he failed in his duties to keep Selaserat safe. The presence of guards at the docks battling mercenaries had an impact on residents, and they, so far, turned their confused anger elsewhere and did not blame him for his past acquiescence to Hrivasine’s demands.
“Kasoris is having a grand time with Rudarig,” Erse continued.
“Lokjac’s holding my mother back, isn’t he?”
The syimlin raised an eyebrow and refused to comment. She should have gone with her parent to Selaserat, but unease struck at the thought of returning to the city. Kasoris had not asked for her company, so she did not volunteer; Katta took full advantage of her presence to hand her a stack of papers to sift through and file. Lucky her, that she stayed.
“Well, we have time to prod him into a statement,” Katta mumbled. “The storms in the Sea of Winds won’t die down for semma yet, and we won’t be leaving until they do.”
“I admire Lorgan’s audacity,” Erse said. “That he discovered Laken’s essences without a map is incredible.”
Katta regarded her with half-lidded, sparking eyes. “Why randomize the sundering?”
“Because no one could know where they lay. Not even me.”
“So now we have to sail the Sea of Winds.”
“Don’t worry. Qira will be back by then, and he can annoy you the entire way to The Windtwists.”
“Lorgan wants to visit Tempest Isle first. He has a lead to the exact location, however vague. We haven’t been there in a while. It’ll be good, for Mera and Tally to visit home.”
“I’m certain the gaggle of Light-blessed tagging along will be a welcome surprise.”
Vantra did not think that many would travel with them. Would they? Jare had talked about it after he and Mica absorbed three fountains’ worth of mist and rested, and the other Light-blessed agreed; Qira and Katta needed more guards. Mera and Tally, Kjaelle and Vesh, were not up to the numbers of enemies they now faced.
Because Jare and Mica fell firmly on Kjaelle’s side that, somehow, the Beast had returned from the Void, and the more present to battle him and his minions, the better.
Vantra’s gut instinct was to deny it. How could he return? But the sense of death that permeated the crater after the explosion, the same that she felt in the entity that menaced her while unconscious, was one of deep corruption that stank of rotting death. That was the description of the Beast.
“Underestimating the Light-blessed love for Qira had ended many an enemy,” Katta said. “And they want another shot at Skerezahn.”
“I wonder what our foe offered that enticed him,” Erse said. “He is not one to meekly submit.”
“Power. It’s all he ever craved.”
“Rezenarza doesn’t believe so.”
“The numbers of Light-blessed Skerezahn murdered to promote his weaker star speaks for itself.”
Erse nodded in acceptance. “True.” She held up her hand, and a bulging brown envelope appeared between her fingers. “Moragaray wrote down everything she discovered at Strans’ Bargain. The Wiiv had more mephoric emblems, and it appears they attempted to use the pool to charge them. It did not work as expected, but whether Rezenarza’s interruption halted them, or if the set-up simply did not work because the pool was not as contaminated as the one in the citadel, she doesn’t know—and she refused to experiment and find out.”
“I can’t believe he’s helping,” Katta admitted.
“Our enemy embarrassed him—and you know how he hates being seen as foolish and uninformed.” She leaned over and settled the envelope on the edge of the table. “That’s why he’s still at the citadel, investigating and helping the shamans break the hold Kjiven had on their peoples. He needs to repair his confidence. I’m more concerned about the Knights of the Finders. I can’t visit Evening until I detach from the bindings, and the priest I sent has met with representatives rather than Æshren and Imparik, and the excuses for their continued absence from the Collective is weak. I’m afraid the information concerning them will disappear, along with those who knew of it.”
“You can talk to the Clastics,” Vantra said, surprised she had the bravado to offer a suggestion.
“Hmm. They have infiltrated the Finders, haven’t they?” Erse tapped her lower lip. “I’ve met with their leader several times to discuss other strategies for Redeeming the Fields ghosts, but Æshren and Imparik have a stranglehold on Redemptions through the Collective that isn’t easily severed. I’ve attempted to change that, and the outcomes have harmed the heads.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m certain our enemy uses that to advantage.”
The tent flap opened, and Kjaelle held it for Salan to trot in. His tongue lolled to the side, and he looked happy; by the elfine’s exasperation, he had quite the time on his walk.
Katta sat up and ruffled the vulf’s cheeks; he waffled and licked his chin, his tail whisking back and forth. “Did you have a good walkie?”
He barked, and Kjaelle glared. “You could say that.”
Vantra rose; now that they were back, she could take a break. While necessary, sorting the papers into files was not an exciting endeavor, and her mind wandered to the point she lost track of what she did.
“The Light-blessed have a fountain up in the main tent,” Kjaelle told her. “It’s potent.”
She smiled her thanks and wafted out the door. She fought not to bow to Erse; the woman had made it plain that she did not desire the formality.
The air held enough water, she used Physical Touch; it would rain, and she did not want her renewed resources to wash away with the drops. She turned down the path that had a shortcut to the largest tent, the thought of flavored mist sounding better and better.
“What do you mean?”
The sharpness in Kenosera’s tone brought her to a stop.
“The Shades that are coming are going to need help,” Lesanova said, an edge to her tone. Her voice traveled from behind an empty tent to the left. “We’ve decided to stay here. Katta says it might take a while to sort through everything, but we can join the Joyful Caravan afterwards.”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Dedari asked. “We’ll get to travel across Fading Light, as we wished. It’s safer, with plenty of guards—”
“Safer?”
“Well—”
With a furious hiss, Kenosera barreled around the side of the nearest tent. Vantra faded away as he stormed past, trailed by Lesanova and Dedari calling for him, a resigned Tagra, hands stuffed in pockets, bringing up the rear. All four dressed in slick raingear, so they expected a storm as well. They helped care for the caravan’s animals, and seemed happy with the outdoor task, though Vantra thought Kenosera seemed less and less enchanted with it.
She glanced towards her destination, then floated after the nomads.
A wagon driver who needed help sidetracked the other three, but Kenosera was far enough ahead of them, he did not hear the summons—or chose not to answer. Vantra skimmed past the group and sped up so she did not lose him.
He stopped at the edge of the shield surrounding the encampment, staring at the river across the road as if he wished to visit, but knew the folly in that. Ankis roamed the waters, washed to lower elevations by the flood, and they did not mind swallowing umbrareign for a meal. She turned Physical and walked to his side; no need to startle him with an abrupt appearance.
“You heard,” he said. Ah. She had not been quick enough in her hiding.
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “It’s funny, but Yut-ta warned me. He said the light of adventure left their eyes after the docks. I scoffed. We all wished to leave the desert, and to do so, we had to accept the adventure and danger that went with it.” He rubbed at the loose white shirt, dislodging the lace that held the collar closed. “But he’s right. And they think to decide for me, what I should do.”
“Do you still want adventure and danger?” Vantra made the same choice. Redeeming the Condemned was a difficult and often unrewarding endeavor filled with peril, yet she insisted on following the path.
“I do. And I won’t find it carting paper back and forth for scholars.” He looked at her, his green-brown eyes bright. “You still want me around, don’t you?”
The question shocked her. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Yut-ta wants to come too, but he’s afraid to bring it up.”
He was? Why? “He’s welcome to join us. I’m surprised both of you still want to travel with us. Redemptions are notoriously dangerous, but this is a bit much, even for them.” She looked away, his intensity making her very aware of herself, and in a nervous way. “Kjaelle, Jare and Mica think the Beast’s returned. He didn’t spare the living of the Evenacht during his reign, and he can create weapons to take out a syimlin. That makes traveling with us even more risky.”
“We of the desert have legends of his cruelty. It’s all the more reason to Redeem Laken, return the Gift of Life to its proper form, and kick him back into the Void.”
The first drops plopped onto her nose. Vantra rubbed them away, then grabbed Kenosera’s hand in both hers. She tread across emotions she did not understand, in him or herself, but she had to say something. “I’d be sad, if you stayed here.” She glanced up, hoping he did not take her words amiss. They were true, spoken from the heart.
He blinked, then a smile bloomed, and his fingers curled around hers. “I’d be sad to stay.” More drops fell, and he glanced into the darkened clouds. He tugged on her appendages, and they retreated from the shield, running to get inside before the downpour began.
