Altered Intentions Page 11

  Tal inclined his head as much as he dared. “No apology is necessary. On behalf of the Circle, I thank you for your hospitality. If I may, who did the Altered, those strange beings you saw, say your patron would be?”

  “Forgive me, High One, but I was so upset when they were here that I do not remember his name. Narok, or Darok, or something similar. All I remember with certainty is that he was covered in flames. I have not seen any sign of him since.”

  “That would be Darnoc.” Tal searched his memory. “That may be fortunate. The ancient texts make little mention of Darnoc, and from what I remember, I believe he was one of the more lenient, unlike Regor or some of the others.”

  “I pray you are right, High One,” Jarril said. “Please, come inside.” He picked up the fallen sword and laid it on a table as they went into the house. No sooner had they all gotten inside then two small voices called out.

  “Father? Father!” A young boy and girl came leaping down the stairs and barreled into Jarril, one clinging to each leg. The feline features were prominent in their young faces, although Tal knew they would fade somewhat as they grew older.

  “Hello, my little cubs!” Jarril exclaimed as he scooped one child up in each arm. They hugged him tightly, burying their faces in his shoulders. Tal could hear happy purring sounds coming from them.

  Jarril turned to him. “I apologize for my children, High One. It has been a while since I have been home.”

  Tal smiled. “Never apologize for children who are this happy to see their father.” This is what we are fighting for, he thought. This is what is important.

  He could see by the expressions on the other Loremasters' faces that similar thoughts were running through their minds as well. Even Delani's usually firm demeanor had softened at the sight of the children's affection.

  Soon they were all gathered in front of a blazing fire. Tal and the other former captives were seated in chairs, while the rest stood or sat on the stone hearth of the fireplace. Reeka pried the children away from Jarril and took them back to bed. She returned with a basin of water and several cloths, which Seryn accepted with a nod of thanks.

  “We must at least clean your wound,” Seryn said. Her expression told him she would not be put off. With a sigh, he nodded and resigned himself to her ministrations.

  “Now,” he said, once she finished and Reeka had left the room, “we must decide on a course of action quickly. I do not wish to remain here any longer than necessary and have Regor find us here.”

  “High One,” Reyga said, “according to Jason, the Altered avoid the Riftlands. Since dimsai does not always work there, and they are creatures of dimsai, they do not go there.”

  “An interesting bit of knowledge,” Jarril said, “but would that not put us at a disadvantage as well?”

  “Not necessarily,” Brin said. “At worst, it would put us on even footing with the Altered, should one of them show up.” It was clear that the thought of meeting Regor in such a situation appealed to him.

  “Perhaps,” Tal said, “but the prospect of not having our power does not sit well with me, particularly since I now know how it feels. Even if the Altered do not go there, other creatures call it home. If we do attempt the Riftlands, we should have members of the Circle guard with us. By now, they will have made their way to the Scorched Plains rally point and into Faedor Woods. We will meet them there.” He flexed his arms and legs. “A few more minutes should suffice, and then we will find Captain Gatlor.” He turned to Reyga. “Did you bring the papers?”

  Reyga reached inside his robes. Then, with a confused look, he patted the outside of his garments, front and back. “High One, I…” He closed his eyes with a groan. “As I was preparing to leave, I laid them on the table in my quarters.” Bleak eyes gazed at Tal. “Forgive me, High One, but they are still in Lore’s Haven.”

  Tal pursed his lips. Those papers could contain the key to defeating the Altered. If Regor or one of his minions found them, they would almost certainly be destroyed. “We need those papers. Although it pains me to say this, someone will have to go back for them.”

  “Of course, High One,” Reyga said. “I will go.”

  Brin stepped forward. “I will accompany you.”

  Reyga shook his head. “Although I would be glad of your support,” he said, “we dare not risk more than one of us. Since I am the one who left them behind, I will be the one to remedy my mistake by retrieving them.”

  “High One?” Brin asked.

  “Loremaster Reyga is correct,” he said. “We cannot take the chance. It would be harder for two to avoid Regor’s saiken than one, and if Regor himself shows up, two would be no more effective than one.” He stood up, flexing his arms and legs. “We will go on to the edge of the Plains,” he said to Reyga. “Meet us there when you have retrieved the papers.” He put a hand to his head and swayed on his feet until Seryn steadied him.

  Jarril stepped forward. “High One, I appreciate your willingness to move quickly, but you need to rest. I am sure Delani, Kalen, and Borin need rest as well. We should stay here until the morning to regain our strength, and then go to the Plains. We do not know what we may find, and walking into an uncertain situation in our current condition would not be wise.”

  Seryn held Tal’s arm until he lowered himself back into the chair.

  “But your family and your village,” Tal said.

  “I believe it will be safe to stay here for at least a few hours,” Jarril answered.

  “That will also allow me to heal your injuries,” Seryn added.

  Tal nodded. “Very well.” He held his hand out, palm up, and gasped in pain. “Perhaps once Seryn treats me,” he managed, “my power will return as well.”

  “High One,” Reyga said, “I believe my mission is best served by darkness. While you and the others rest, I will return to Lore’s Haven to retrieve the papers.”

  “Agreed,” Tal said. “Come back here once you have the papers. If you are delayed for some reason, we will go to the Plains at first light. Meet us there.”

  “Yes, High One.”

  “And Reyga,” he leaned forward and gripped the older man’s arm. “Be careful.”

  *****

  “Gone? What do you mean, they're gone?” A dark tendril of power threatened to strangle the life out of Regor's chancellor.

  “My lord, the keep is empty.” Erid’s voice was a strained whisper. “No one remains. We do not know where they could be.”

  Ordinarily, watching someone squirm for answers to his questions would give him no small amount of entertainment. This time, listening to Erid stammer and gasp for air did nothing to improve Regor's mood. He hadn't been to the keep in a couple of days. Seeing the empty halls upon his return had completely ruined the satisfaction he'd felt after capturing Jason Bennett's Shanthi companion. Not to mention, he had been looking forward to a rematch with the two Loremasters. He spread his power down over Erid's ribs and increased his pressure until it forced a groan from the man's lips.

  “I find your answers less than satisfactory,” he said. “How does everyone inside a keep full of people disappear right under your very noses?” It took all the self-restraint he could muster to keep from blasting the man through the wall.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” His voice was barely audible. “They must have gone at night.”

  “The only reason I don't kill you is because you are the most capable of the miserable saiken that follow me. If Bodann were still alive, you would not be.”

  “Yes, my lord. I will not fail you again. But even with those in the keep missing, you still have the High One and the others, do you not?”

  The Loremasters. Erid collapsed to the ground as he released him. An instant later, Regor stood in the blackness of the Loremasters' prison. The power that sprang from his hands revealed an empty cell. His eyes widened as he spun and saw the cavity in the wall. No! How had they gotten past his power? Had Nyala somehow managed to get free? Impossible. She was strong, but not stron
g enough to overcome the combined power of the rest.

  Her ridiculous determination to cling to a past that had ceased to exist was infuriating. But then again, he thought, she’s always had a stubborn streak. It was even worse when something appealed to her sentimental side. But this refusal to see what was right in front of her, this went beyond mere stubbornness or sentimentality. She was living in the past. He didn’t know what she saw when she looked at Teleria, but it wasn’t the same world he saw.

  The worst thing was that it didn’t have to be this way. If she would only change her mind, he was willing to share Teleria with her. So were the others. If she wanted to be some kind benevolent goddess, that was fine, as long as she didn’t interfere with the rest of them. He knew that would never happen, though. Once her mind was made up, no amount of reasoning or arguing was going to change it. She had sealed her own fate.

  He probed the walls. His barrier was still in place. The imprisoned Loremasters could not have used their power to get out, so the others must have found them and tunneled in from the other side. How they managed such a feat was irrelevant at this point. That they would most certainly pay for their insolence was not.

  He slung an angry bolt of power at the wall. Chunks of rock and stone exploded outwards, any that came close to him evaporating into dust. He threw another blast, and then another, continuing until the air was filled with dust and the cell was on the verge of collapse.

  An instant later, he stood in the Circle chambers, glaring at the elaborately carved seats along the curved walls. With a thought, the nine chairs of the Loremasters shattered into shredded piles of dark blue chola wood.

  His gaze roamed the walls, fracturing the gems inset behind where each seat had been. As each gem ruptured, he imagined the Loremaster it represented groveling at his feet. There would be a price to pay for this day.

  But for now, he had a Shanthi to visit. As he prepared to step to the Grithor caverns, he stopped. Something just then…a tickle at the back of his thoughts. He probed Lore’s Haven with his senses, and then smiled grimly. Sometimes he did love surprises.

  The Shanthi would have to wait.

  Moving the Pieces

  As he stepped out of the portal, Jason scanned his surroundings and the overhanging branches. When he didn't see any movement, he relaxed and did a more thorough examination of the empty village. It was one of the few places that had been burned into his memory strongly enough for him to be able to create a portal to it. The thought of being back in Brayden Fenn stirred up a number of emotions, none of them good, but it had a contact portal that he hoped to use to reach someone at Lore's Haven. Since no one lived here anymore, if Regor showed up, no one would get hurt. Except maybe me. It was a risk, but he needed to know what was going on at the keep, and to make sure his dad was okay.

  He looked up at the canopy of leaves and branches. Shreds of trapsilk still hung where soldiers and volunteers from Lore's Haven had cut down the Manarachs' victims. His eyes tried to avoid the spots where crimson stained the silken threads. The ragged strands rose and fell at the slightest breath of wind like ghostly tentacles waiting for unwary travelers. It had taken the better part of two days to cut all of the former inhabitants down from their silken prisons. Some had just been killed. The emaciated bodies of others, however, showed that the creatures had fed on them. An icy chill crawled up the back of his neck at the thought. He needed to contact Lore's Haven and leave before he could think too long about what had happened here.

  The door to the nearest cottage stood open. He stepped inside and looked around the small living area. Although the chairs and tables were still in place, there was no sign of anything else. Tearful relatives and friends had gathered up any personal items belonging to the victims while the soldiers had been cutting the bodies down. His eyes swept across a dark stain on the floor and for an instant he flashed back to seeing his own blood on the dirt at the edge of the Riftlands. He shuddered as the memory washed over him again. Time to move on. He left the cottage and headed for the contact portal.

  A few minutes later, he was staring at the crystals mounted into the frame of the small portal. Now, which one was Lore's Haven? After a moment, he remembered what Reyga had shown him and he touched the crystal that would open a matching portal at the keep. Almost instantly, the wall of a corridor appeared within the frame.

  He didn't know how long it usually took for someone to notice that the portal was active, so he started counting. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three... He frowned as he passed three hundred. I don't remember ever seeing it that empty, not even at night. A thought occurred to him. It is a portal, after all. I wonder... He leaned forward until he was almost touching the portal. He hesitated briefly, then held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and shoved his head through the opening.

  When his head didn't bounce off the floor, he opened his eyes and looked down the hallway in both directions. The dim light from the torches revealed an empty corridor. Where is everybody? A whisper of sound made him turn just in time to see a dark-robed figure come around the corner. As the man spotted him, his arms thrust forward.

  “Look out!” Jason jerked his head back through the portal just in time to avoid the bolt of black power that rocketed past. He released the portal and yanked the frame off the wall, throwing it to the ground where it splintered into pieces. The black dimsai had to mean the ones wearing the dark robes were Regor's people. The man's immediate attack told him they didn't appreciate unexpected visitors. Or maybe it was just the sight of my head hanging on a wall like a trophy. Even with his heart racing, he almost giggled at the thought of what he must have looked like. Bambi bagged a Bennett. Deer finally gets revenge. But he still needed to know what had happened to the others, and to his dad in particular. He sent his mind searching.

  Crin.

  “Jason! Where did you go now?” Jason sensed concern along with just a touch of annoyance in the bird’s thoughts.

  Sorry. One of the Altered helped me escape from the nasaiken. I'm in Brayden Fenn right now.

  “Brayden Fenn? Jason, you should not be there. The Manarachs.”

  I know, but I needed to use the contact portal. I'm not staying. Besides, nobody is here anyway.

  “Still, you should leave.”

  I am, but I need you to talk to Reyga, like you did before. I need to know what's going on and I need to know where my dad is.

  There was a moment of silence, then Crin sent, “I cannot reach him. I am too far from Lore's Haven. It is not like speaking with you.”

  Okay, can you head back that way? I really need to know.

  “I will. Please leave Brayden Fenn.”

  I'm going now. Thanks, Crin.

  He walked out of the building and found himself staring into the glistening black orbs of a Manarach.

  “Whoa!!” Power exploded around his hands as he threw up a shield.

  The Manarach raised its arms in front of its face. “Pleaze, do not. I intend no harm.” Its voice buzzed and clicked as it spoke.

  He wasn't about to drop his shield. His eyes darted from tree to tree, looking for others. “You can talk?”

  “We zpeak. I intend no harm. Pleaze, make power leave.”

  “Yeah, I don't think so. What are you doing here? You've already killed everyone that lived here.”

  “My people kill. I did not.”

  “Oh, you call in sick that day?”

  “Callen zick? I not underztand.”

  “Never mind. Why are you here? Are there any others?”

  “I am alone. I ponder evilz of my people. I zing zongz for dead.”

  “Sing songs?”

  “A long ago way of my people. None practize now.”

  “So why do you?”

  “We zhould not kill human. I tell my people. For zhiz, I am krrr z'an, apart and unzeen.”

  Jason relaxed slightly as he didn’t see any other unexpected visitors hiding among the branches and leaves. His eyes came back to the Manarach. The
creature was bare from the waist up. A pair of crossed scars adorned both sides of its chest. It didn’t carry a weapon, but that didn’t reassure him. He’d seen the six inch long fangs in action during the battle. He dropped his shield, but kept his hands at the ready, power dancing along the fingertips.

  “So you don’t agree with what your people did here?”

  “No. It iz great wrong. But I alone zhink zo.” It looked up into the branches, as if still seeing the victims hanging there. Jason got a glimpse of the fangs, shifting slightly between folds of skin on the creature’s neck. Watching them move made his skin crawl. The orbs focused on Jason again. “My people kill human becauze we are of zhem. I zay we zhould not, for zame reazon.”

  “Of them?”

  “Iz not plain? We are part human, but changed. We zee ozher az enemy, when we zhould zee brozherz.” It cocked its head, as if hearing something. “Great power comz. I muzt go.” Without waiting for an answer, it threw a line of silk into the branches overhead and was gone.

  A moment later, Jason heard a familiar voice behind him, the words shifting and swirling in his ears.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  *****

  Gatlor surveyed the parched Plains from just inside the edge of Faedor Woods. The sun had just crested over the distant mountains, and already the temperature was climbing. As the unforgiving heat assaulted any bit of exposed skin it could find, his thoughts went back to the day of the battle, the day his brother Toren had fallen.

  His brother had been two years older than he, and if there was anyone Gatlor had looked up to as he grew, Toren would have been the one. Part of the reason he came to Lore’s Haven was to make Toren proud of him. He remembered the gleam in his brother’s eyes when he told him he was a Warder. No smile, but Toren’s chin raised, his chest swelled a bit, and he had gripped Gatlor’s forearm with a firmness that told Gatlor everything that remained unspoken.