First Rider's Call (39 page)

“Basic—! Mere meeting—!” To Karigan’s mind, it had been anything but, especially having to deal with unwelcome visitations by apparitions. She wanted to shake the water bucket to erase the image of the First Rider and rid herself of the madness, but the same power that made her gaze into the bucket also trapped her arms against her sides.

She shut her eyes. “I do not see you, I do not see you, I do not—”

Karigan’s spirits sagged. Reluctantly she opened her eyes to meet the apparition’s gaze.

Karigan ground her teeth wanting to make a tart reply about her own time, but she withheld it. Instead she asked, “What do you want of me?”

“Me? But how can—”

Lil cut her off with some ancient and exasperated invocation to the gods requesting patience.
To begin with, talk to them.

“What am I supposed to tell them? I don’t know any more than they do.”

You do know more.
If a submerged apparition in the bottom of a bucket could look annoyed and impatient, Lil had certainly achieved the effect.

Karigan recalled a stone funerary slab in a flooded tomb. Only it wasn’t a tomb, but a prison. A wraith had broken its chains and arisen to walk the world again. Powers were
stirring . . .
Powers, magic. And finally she made the connection.

“You’re telling me that the breach is causing . . .” She dropped her voice into a whisper. “. . . my ability to fail?”

“But how?” “But how?”

“You put this on me, but you won’t explain it to me?” Karigan licked her lips. “Why do you keep coming to me? Why do you think
I
can do as you ask?”

A bit of hay drifted over Lil’s face.
You are a Rider, and that should be enough, but I see it is not. You are a Rider because you have intense loyalty to your country and your king, and an innate gift of magic. This is true of all Riders, but you’ve also the ability to bring them together, if only you would accept the responsibility.

“I never even wanted to be a Rider.”

“That doesn’t explain why you keep haunting me. Mara could do as you ask.”

Lil’s head turned, as though she were checking over her shoulder.
The door begins to close.

“Explain it to me now!”

The First Rider sighed.
We share the brooch.

Karigan blinked, startled. “You mean—?”

Lil nodded.
Made for me, it was.

It was too incredible to believe, thought Karigan, that she should wear the same brooch the First Rider had once worn. The weight of history, the very idea of it, sent shivers down her spine.

Karigan found herself lowering her face deeper into the bucket as if to ensure she didn’t miss a word.

You are of interest to the darkness in Blackveil. Shield yourself well, keep your wits about you.
Lil’s voice and face began to fade.
The darkness seeks you . . .

And she was gone.

Released by the power that had held her, Karigan grabbed the bucket and shook it vigorously. “What do you mean it seeks me?” she shouted. “Why is the darkness interested in me?”

But the green glow was gone, and there was no reply. She had only managed to churn up the water and cause the dead flies to whirl in circles.

Condor nosed her aside so he could get a drink, and a dazed Karigan looked up only to find Hep and Mara staring at her in astonishment from across the stall door.

“Are ya well?” Hep asked, his eyes wide.

“Um . . .”

Mara raised an eyebrow.

“Mara, we need to talk.”

“I was going to suggest the very same thing.”

 

The two Riders stepped outside and leaned against the paddock rails. The late afternoon sunshine felt good to Karigan—it seemed to chase away the shadows of apparitions and madness. All was tranquil, the late afternoon light glowing a bright yellow-green on the tips of grasses. There was a soft drone of bees visiting clover and lighting on the yellow and white asters that grew so prolifically in these waning days of summer.

Karigan told Mara everything, about how her ability had failed during the groundmite attack on Lady Penburn’s delegation, the details of her “traveling” through the abandoned corridors, and even spoke of Lil Ambrioth’s visitations.

She did not hold back as she had with Captain Mapstone. She now knew there was something much bigger going on than simply her own problems. She would not make the same mistake with Mara as she had with the captain: she would not hide the truth.

Mara took it all in calmly, interrupting only to ask for occasional clarification.

By the time Karigan finished, her throat was dry and the sun much lower, but she was glad to have it out. She no longer had to hide her madness; it was no longer her burden to bear alone.

Mara squinted as she gazed across the paddock. She twisted a curl of hair around her forefinger, and it was a while before she spoke.

“It’s going to take time for me to absorb all this,” she said. “I’ve heard bits and pieces from both you and the captain, but I had no idea of the extent of the situation. Some of our Riders haven’t been themselves lately, and I guess I now know why.”

She then glanced at Karigan and smiled. “The First Rider, eh? I guess there could be worse ghosts to meet.”

“I wear her brooch.” The smooth gold was cool beneath her fingers. “The very same one she once wore.”

Mara nodded, seeming to be in less disbelief than Karigan. “All our brooches once belonged to a member of the original Green Riders. It only makes sense that the First Rider’s would be one of them.” Mara plucked a tall daisy and twirled it between her fingers. “I think your idea of a meeting is a good one. Maybe by sharing any problems we’ve experienced, instead of hiding them as personal failures, we might have a better chance of figuring out what to do.”

A MEETING OF RIDERS

The meeting was called for the following afternoon to take place in the common room of Rider barracks. With the king’s approval, Mara withheld any new message errands from going out. Osric had arrived during the night, and Tegan that morning, bringing their numbers up to a whopping twenty-six Riders in residence. Fifteen others remained out in the field. They would be talked to individually as they returned from their errands.

Captain Mapstone did not appear despite Mara’s coaxing. She refused even to open the door to speak with her face to face. In fact, she said nothing to Mara, except for a terse, “Go away.” Karigan and Mara worried about her, but it made their meeting all the more urgent.

Karigan had never seen so much
green
jammed into one room before. The lucky few Riders who arrived first claimed all the comfy armchairs and rocking chairs. Most carried in chairs from their rooms.

The inscrutable Lynx chose to stand off by himself in a far corner, sucking on a long-stemmed pipe, his arms folded across his chest.

Karigan went around the room opening all the windows to let in fresh air, then took her place at the head of the table next to Mara. She grew uneasy with all the expectant faces looking their way.

Mara began with a smile. “I’m glad to see you all here. It’s not often we get together in such numbers, but Karigan and I felt it was necessary.

“Before Captain Mapstone’s collapse, she told me she felt there was something amiss with the nature of magic, a concern she shared also with Karigan. She heard of too many strange occurrences happening throughout the provinces. Too many to be accounted an accident. Perhaps you’ve heard the rumors of a stone deer in Wayman, or about the rainbows over the village of Derry.”

There was considerable nodding and murmured affirmatives from the assembled Riders.

“They’re not rumors.” Mara’s pronouncement wasn’t met with a great deal of surprise. After all, more than anyone else, the Riders had been out in the world and saw and heard much. “More reports of such things continue to trickle in during the king’s public audiences.

“At the moment, I’m a little more concerned about what might be happening among us, though Karigan will have more to say about the larger scope of the problem. It is known only to Karigan and me, and to the king and his advisors, that Captain Mapstone’s ability failed her during a very critical moment, while she evaluated Lord-Governor D’Ivary. If her ability hadn’t failed, if she’d been able to detect D’Ivary’s lies and true intent, tragedy in D’Ivary Province might have been averted.”

Some Riders looked stricken, while others watched Mara raptly, waiting for more. Tegan stared at her hands folded on the tabletop, and Lynx stood calm as could be in his corner, blowing smoke rings toward the rafters.

“The outcome of the captain’s ability failing is not what we’re here to discuss,” Mara continued, her voice rising above the general chatter. “The fact it failed is what brings us together today. The captain never shared with me whether her ability recovered after the incident, or if it continued to fail. From outward signs, I’d guess it’s what led to her collapse.” She gazed around the group, putting on a stern expression. “I want to know if anyone else here has experienced a lapse in their ability.”

They had planned ahead that Karigan would come forward first if no one else did. Karigan’s experiences, however, revolved around so many issues that Mara wanted to leave her last. As it turned out, Karigan didn’t have to jump in. Tegan raised a trembling hand.

“Yes, Tegan?” Mara said.

“My ability,” she said tentatively. “I’ve not been able to make an accurate foretelling of the weather for weeks.”

Karigan, who wasn’t surprised by her admission, watched Garth pale. He hung his head in abject guilt. “I’m sorry, Tegan. I had no idea. I thought you were playing a joke on me that day when I got caught in the rain. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“How could you know?” she asked. “I was too ashamed to admit my failing to anyone.”

Others chimed in. Osric M’Grew admitted he could no longer walk through solid objects, and had acquired several bruises attempting to do so. Though he made light of it, Karigan could see the fear in his eyes. Trace Burns said her ability, too, had failed, and this was why they had no idea of how Connly fared. Trace and Connly each possessed the ability to communicate with one another using thoughts, even over long distances.

“How do we know something hasn’t happened to Connly?” Justin asked.

Trace shrugged. “We don’t. But usually I can feel my ability in my mind, but that doesn’t happen anymore when I try. I believe the problem is on my end, not his.”

Other Riders said they had experienced no changes in their abilities, or hadn’t needed to use them in months and were not aware of problems.

Ephram Neddick said, “I wouldn’t call what’s happened to my ability a problem. It works better than ever.” He screwed up his face. “Maybe too well, when I’m overnighting in an inn, if you know what I mean.” His ability, when he chose to use it, was an extraordinary sense of hearing.

“I believe it’s the same with my ability,” Mara said. “Here is one more item for our list: some weeks ago, Reita’s brooch abandoned her, prematurely it would seem.”

Everyone began talking at once. Now that the problem had been aired, some were nervous, while others looked relieved they weren’t the only ones afflicted.

“So,” Lynx said, his gravelly voice quieting everyone, “some Riders’ abilities have failed, at least two of you sense an enhancement, and the rest are not aware of any problems. What does this add up to?”

Everyone turned their gazes back to Mara.

“I have no answers for you,” she said, “but we now know there’s a definite problem afflicting us, and the only way to begin addressing it is to acknowledge there is a problem, to hear everything as a group. Why is Ephram’s ability enhanced? Why can’t Tegan properly sense the weather? What happened—is happening—to Captain Mapstone?