Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (39 page)

“Sister,” he coos, still trying to see her, “so grown now. And a swords woman. You wish to be a knight some day like this one who fails to keep her promises? I can make you one now, if you’d like. Surely you know what I ask of you. Free me, Sister. Free me and you shall have all you desire when we walk this plane together.”

I don’t dare reach for her or even turn my head in her direction, but I feel Saesa shift closer to me. For a moment I consider grabbing her and taking her away to Kythshire or to Ceras’lain through the Half-Realm, but I don’t know if that would reveal her to Jacek. That, and I can’t bring myself to leave the others behind to be at the mercy of the prince and the Dreamwalker.

“Let them go,” Saesa’s voice makes me jump. Jacek’s eyes widen with triumph. He moves closer. “I’ll come with you if you release these three and allow them to leave with Sir Azaeli.”

“Saesa, no,” I whisper, gripping her arm behind me.

“We knew it might come to this,” Saesa whispers to me. “You told me yourself.”

I go over in my mind what we discussed in the Ring. She’s right. She knows of Valenor’s plan to allow her to be taken and to release Jacek willingly, but we aren’t ready now. She was supposed to have protections placed on her. We were supposed to have a plan to thwart him once he was released into the waking plane. I never intended for her to go alone. We aren’t ready for this.

“I agree to your bargain, Sister,” Jacek grins. “I will wake them and allow them to go on their way, and you will come with me. On one condition. The Lady Knight must swear to keep her promise to me regarding the Wellspring.”

“Hello!”
Flitt pushes to me suddenly. I fight the instinct to whirl around and look for her. Instead I shift closer to Saesa, protecting her. Jacek hasn’t noticed Flitt’s arrival. I hope it stays that way.
“Glad I found you! Stay here. Stall him. I’ll let them know.”
I don’t have to worry for long. She’s already gone before I finish the thought.

“How did you see through the talisman?” I ask him. “You were inside Jac, weren’t you? He saw me in the tunnel. How?”

“My dear Azaeli,” Jacek grins within the shadows, “The Dreamwalker isn’t governed by the same rules and laws of those on your plane. I see what I want, when I want to.”

“That’s not true,” I argue. “You couldn’t see Saesa. You still can’t. You couldn’t find me in Cerion when I was in the guild hall. You couldn’t follow me to the palace.”

“To be honest, I was expecting you here. Always the hero. It was only a matter of time before you came looking for Ki. For Mya and the others as well. Don’t worry about them. They’re having quite an adventure in the dreaming. Amusing, really. I do hope they stay for a while.” His laugh sickens me. This is a game to him.

“You’re trying to frighten me,” I say. “To anger me. You’re not as powerful as you’d like me to believe.” I watch his eyes narrow, his anger build.

“I am more powerful than you can fathom, Azaeli. You should fall to your knees in awe of me. A whisper of a command, a step to the side, and I can travel anywhere in this world. I can suggest war. I can compel fire. I can rule princes and Sorcerers and rebels.

“I can move mountains and breach borders, and all of it done with such a perfect subtlety that the men who follow me believe it is their own doing. I step to the side and I am standing before Ceras’lain, compelling men to crush its great wall. I step to another and whisper, and a prince becomes a murderer.”

“You’re blinded by your pride,” I shake my head. “I know the truth. All of us do. You’re a prisoner, trapped in a realm that bores you. You yearn to be free. You want to be here where you belong, and that is something you can never do without Saesa.”

Just past him behind his back, the air shifts subtly. Rian appears there, a finger pressed to his lips.

“You’re a fool to underestimate me,” Jacek laughs again and shakes his head, “and to think you could surprise me, Mage.” He spins around and lashes out at Rian with a whip of a shadow that cracks through his wards and catches him around the neck.

Rian gives a half-grin and steps back.

“Your shadows aren’t real,” he smirks. “They’re imagined. I figured it out. You feed on confusion, anger, loneliness, fear. If I come to expect it, you lose the mystery. Therefore, you lose the power.” Rian shakes his head. “It becomes more difficult for you then, doesn’t it?”

Jacek growls in anger and raises his shadowy hands up, plunging us into darkness. His cloak billows out behind him and as I cry out and charge at the shadows, I’m aware of something else. Another presence in the space between us, small and bold.

My attention is drawn away from it by the sound of a scuffle in the darkness ahead. There’s a thud, and Rian grunts.

“No!” I shout. Rian casts a spell, and in the moments following the blinding flash I see that Jac is on his feet again, his sword drawn and raised to strike Rian. As it plunges downward, I push my mind into the guard’s, trying desperately to stop his arms.

Rian looks into Jac’s eyes, my eyes, but I’m too late. Jac’s sword comes down, slashing, and the look in the eyes of my love shatters my heart. Pain, disbelief, emptiness. I can’t bear it. I pull myself away from Jac and watch through my own eyes as Rian falls without a sound. I can’t move. I’m frozen in terror as he crumples to the floor, his blood spilling into the singed puddle of Ki’s.
 

Tib

It’s a good diversion. Rian is down. Azi is stunned. The Dreamwalker is watching gleefully. He doesn’t notice me. Saesa charges the guard, the one who struck down Rian. Jacek turns his attention to her. Everything is dark again, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to see him. I can sense him. I just know. This is the best time. This is my chance.

I slip toward him, this man of nightmares and shadows. Formless but not. It isn’t him I want, it’s the cloak. The mantle. That’s my goal. It’s just within my reach, and still he doesn’t know I’m here. He’s too busy gloating over his kill. Rian was always good to me. He was a kind Mage. Azi drops to her knees beside him, weeping. Saying his name over and over. Shaking him. Sobbing. I brush past her, slip her a pink vial. Look away. I try not to think about it. I can’t get distracted.

This was all part of the plan. I have to do it right, like Valenor told me. Thoroughly. There can’t be a thread left behind, not a scrap. My title rings over and over in my mind. Dreamstalker. He can’t see me. He can’t sense me, thanks to Mevyn. The shadows and stars of his cloak swirl around me as I step into it.

Time seems to shift around me. Everything else slows. My heart races as I reach to his shoulders. I feel the rush of it: excitement, danger, control. He still doesn’t see me. He’s too swept up in Saesa’s fight. He’s too busy controlling Jac. My fingers rest on the mantle. It’s complex, Valenor told me. Molded to the wearer. There are no clasps, no buckles. There is only will.

I know what I have to do. I start to close my eyes as my hands rest lightly upon it. The fight between Saesa and the guard grows more furious. I try to block it out, but Saesa is struck. She cries out and I have to look. She’s been stabbed in her sword arm. Blood trickles down her bracer and along Feat’s blade.

It doesn’t stop her. In her rage, something shifts around her. She presses on, fighting bravely. Jacek sees her. Watches her. I can feel his hatred for her. He wants her dead, but he knows he needs her. Still, he forces Jac on her. The guard is nearly twice her size.

Don’t be distracted. Your mind must be clear. Your intention must be set. The mantle is your right. You have been marked for it. You have been sealed. It is yours to take. It will be easy for you, if you will it.
I’ve repeated Valenor’s instructions over and over so many times since he gave them to me that I barely have to think about them now. I can’t worry about Saesa. This is important. I’m the only one who can do it. For her. For Mevyn. For Valenor.

I push my hands up under the mantle. Raise my arms. Close my eyes. Tell it that it’s mine, that it belongs to me. Believe it in my heart, like Valenor told me to. Jacek finally realizes the threat against him, but it’s too late. The power that he stole is Valenor’s by right. I’m only a steward, a messenger, but the mantle knows. It never belonged to Jacek. The mantle frees itself from the Dreamwalker and slips over me. Rests heavy on my shoulders. The cloak of stars billows around me and I feel a rush like I’ve never felt before.

I can do anything. No one can stop me. The darkness is my slave. The stars are mine to command. Every wicked thought, every hint of fear is something to collect and control. I turn to Jac first. I don’t even have to say a word. I imagine him dropping his sword and he does it. I show him terror. I make him believe that Saesa is a monster who could crush him with her fingertips. He cowers from her.

There’s no time to be amused, though. Jacek, stripped of his mantle, screams at me. He tries to rip and claw it away from me, but he has no claim. His power here is fading. He’s slipping back into the Dreaming, just like Valenor said he would. Behind him, Saesa sees me for the first time. She dashes toward me, starts to throw her arms around me, but Jacek reaches for her as she passes by. With his last wisp of strength, he grabs her arm and pulls her with him. Together they disappear into the Dreaming.

“Saesa!” Azi and I scream together. She jumps to her feet and runs to the place where Saesa disappeared. Behind her, Rian pushes himself up weakly. She rushes back to him and helps him stand.

“A few holes in that plan,” Rian mutters sheepishly. “Nothing major. Didn’t have much time to iron it out. Sorry. You did it though, Tib. Excellent.”

“Nothing major?” Azi exclaims as she hugs him close. “You just nearly died!”

Both turn to watch as the cloak settles around me. Whispering Jacek’s dealings. Stretching out from me like roots to all of those he’s touched. Distracting me. Overwhelming me. Princes. Sorcerers. Necromancers. Maids. Thieves. Weeping. Pleading. Begging. Fearing. Something else. A determination. A push. A battle.

I close my eyes and focus on it and I’m there, floating above the Forest Wall. I am the storm, thundering and rumbling. Watching Cly Zhrel’s army of Sorcerers battle the White Line. Watching them cast their magical attacks back and forth, back and forth.

“Stop,” I say. “Enough.” To my shock, they do. Cly lowers his hands. Shakes his head. Kneels in surrender to the elves.

“Tib.” Rian says sternly, pulling me back to the circle room. Back to Azi and the sleeping Elite. I don’t even feel the shift. It was like I was simply taking a step.

“You’re not supposed to use it,” Rian says. “Remember? Just bring it back to Valenor.”

“But…” I stare from him to Azi. “I just stopped a war. Just like that.”

“It’s not yours,” Rian says. “You have to be careful.”

“What about Saesa?” I ask him. “She’s stuck there with him. He’ll do terrible things to her.”

“We’ll bring it back to Valenor and make a plan,” he says and I can feel the anger in him. He looks over at the pile of his guild members, sleeping on the edge of the walkway. Crouches beside them. Gestures to me and Azi to join him.

“Ready?” he asks.

“What about him?” Azi points to Jac, who’s still cowering against the wall.

“What about him?” Rian scowls.

“We can’t just leave him. He didn’t know what he was doing through all of this. Jacek was controlling him. If Eron comes back and finds everyone gone, he’s sure to be blamed for it,” she whispers.

“You…” Rian shakes his head and bends down and kisses her. “I love you, know that? Come on, then, Jac.” He jerks his head toward the others. Against the wall, Jac blinks.

“Sir?” Jac says, a little vaguely. “Name’s Patyr actually. Third rank. Royal Guard.” He looks around a little warily. “Where’d that girl go?” He shivers. “The one with the claws and sharp teeth?”

Rian turns to me and raises a brow.

“I had to,” I say, shrugging. “Saesa was losing.”

“Don’t do it again. You don’t know what could happen. Come on,” Rian turns to the guard. “We’ll get you back to the palace.” As Patyr comes to join us, Rian and Azi link arms with the others. I hold on to Azi’s shoulder.

“Ready?” Rian asks. Azi’s eyes meet mine as she nods. Sorrowful. Apologetic. I see Ki in them. Look down at the others. As Rian pulls us away into the Half-Realm back to Ceras’lain, I realize my sister isn’t with us. The mantle flutters and drifts around us as we plunge toward the waking, and I know I’m not supposed to but I can’t help it.

I look into it. I search along the vast fabric for my sister, for Ki. I see her in many places, but the last is through the eyes of a prince, at the end of his sword. Dropping away. Gasping. Dying. Pulled lifelessly out of the water by the knight and her squire.

We hit the ground hard and I tuck my knees and roll straight into Valenor’s scaly leg. I push the mantle from my shoulders and shove it at him, desperate to clear my head of the image I just saw.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I scream and spin to face Azi. I throw myself at her, punching her stony chest plate until my knuckles bleed inside my gloves. She takes my wrists and sinks to her knees and holds me. Rocks me. Comforts me as she cries tears of her own.

“I’m sorry,” she keeps saying again and again until I want to punch her stupid face and tell her to shut her mouth. I try to shove away from her but she won’t let me. She just holds me tighter and rocks and rocks until I break down, too. Lisabella shows up at some point. She puts her arms around us both. Her peace washes over us. Allows me to let go. I cry hard. For Mevyn. For Ki. For Saesa. For Nan and Zhilee.

I’m only half aware of what’s happening around us. Gaethon and Rian are working to wake the others. The elf Mages are here, too, trying to help. Nobody notices Valenor. Maybe it’s my connection to the mantle that pulls my attention to him. I wipe my eyes on the shoulder of Azi’s damp cloak and watch in disbelief as the mantle swirls and grows around him like a giant cocoon.

“Azi,” Flitt pokes her cheek and points. The Mages look up from the others who are still caught in sleep. Together we watch in awe as Valenor starts to transform.

The mantle shifts from midnight blue to the colors of twilight and daybreak. It swirls and glitters and bursts with light that dances around the dragon’s enormous form. He begins to shrink, wrapped in his cloak, to the size of a curled up man. The cloak pile lies motionless and lumpy for a long, breathless moment. Azi gets up slowly. Carefully. She pulls me up, too. We watch as the cloak shimmers to grass and flowers and silk and gold.

The center of it comes to a point. It changes to look like a man. A long braided beard spills down the front of his robes. He pushes his hood from his face and blinks at us. His eyes are white as snow. He’s old. Really old. Not frail, though. Stern-looking, too, just like a Mage. But he smiles at me. Right at me.

“Valenor?” I whisper.

“Well,” he says after a lot of throat-clearing. His voice is gravely. Unsure, like he’s getting used to it. “I think I’ll go fetch Saesa. Who’s coming with?”

We all stand there staring at him. Even the Mages have stopped their efforts in order to gape. I’m the first one to move. I push away from Azi to move closer to the man. He’s tall, like an elf, and slender. His cloak moves around him like something alive.

It isn’t like it was before, though. It’s brighter. Cheerful. Filled with promise. Possibilities. Hope. He reaches out to me as I approach. His eyes stare blankly ahead. That’s when I realize he’s blind. But I remember the cloak. He isn’t, really. He can see everything. More than any of us can.

“They will not wake,” he says quietly. Puts a hand on my shoulder. Guides me to the Mages who turn back to Mya, Elliot, and Donal.

This close to him, I can feel something else. Something familiar. A sense of guidance. An old friend. Mevyn. His presence is stronger, maybe because Valenor is so much smaller now. It reminds me of the fairies I’m carrying. They’ve been so quiet. I had almost forgotten about them.

“What do you mean?” Rian crouches beside his mother. Strokes her arm. I look at the rest of them. Donal and Elliot. The guard that stabbed Saesa.

“They are caught in the Dreaming. Much like you were, Azaeli. Not this one, though.” He points to Jac.

“He is under my spell,” Gaethon says. “For safekeeping. He will remain so until we can return him to Cerion.”

“Very well,” Valenor says. “As far as the other three, we must return to my realm and seek them out. We must recover Saesa. I fear what she might become in Jacek’s grips. We must find him and put an end to him once and for all.”

The elves vow to watch over those sleeping while we’re gone. Gaethon and Lisabella will stay behind with them. This is where we’ll send Jacek when Saesa releases him. The elves have magic that can bind him. They’ll all be waiting. Azi and Flitt, Rian and I step into the folds of Valenor’s cloak. He tells us to stay close.

It doesn’t take much. Just a step to the side and we’re off. Into the Dreaming. The last time I was here, it was dark. Shadows lurked around us. Rian went half-mad in our search for Azaeli. Everything was confused and strange. This time, it’s different. Maybe it’s because it’s daytime. Maybe it’s because Valenor is the Dreamwalker now. Everything is bright. Blinding, almost. The sun is warm overhead.