Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (46 page)

Gavin nodded. “When you saw through it, they made it real. They summoned it from the red realm.”

“But it wasn’t attacking your people,” Kaoque said. “Only us.”

“Even after I sentenced you to death, you risked your life to save us,” the Lord Orator said.

“He risked far more than his life,” Edan said, stumbling forward with the help of Calinor’s and Tennara’s arms around him.

Kaoque pressed his palms together and bowed deeply, pausing there for a long moment. When he straightened again, his eyes were filled with tears. “You risked everything to save us—your life, your wife’s life, your magic, your soul. Why?”

“Because I’m not the Demon Lord,” Gavin answered.

The Lord Orator came forward and bowed as Kaoque had, and the warriors followed suit. “I believe this is your way.” He offered his hand, which Gavin shook. “That’s right. You’re not the Demon Lord. Only a noble man, a man of honor would risk himself to save lives, even those who were once his enemy. The Beresfards of Thendylath have been redeemed. Perhaps sometime soon, you would be willing to meet our Lord Ruler on neutral ground to discuss mutually beneficial trade between our two countries.”

Gavin nodded. “I would. Most definitely.”

Tokpah opened his hand. In his palm lay the amulet Gavin had removed from Feanna’s neck. “I took this, but it was a gift to your wife.” Gavin accepted the offered amulet and put it into his coin purse with thanks. It was a valuable tool that would undoubtedly come in handy.

“We have horses not far from here,” the Lord Orator said. “We’ll gladly see you all safely to the port city of Gotnok.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I got a faster way.” Gavin summoned the Baron Hexx one last time, and with the Cyprindian warriors holding him hostage, he negotiated transport home to Thendylath for his companions and the remaining abductees.

Chapter 61

Gavin had no choice. Arguing back and forth with the Guardians over his use of their essence was wasting time. His wife’s and son’s lives were at stake. If Feanna’s essence wasn’t restored from the Nal Disi, it would be restored from her body, and what would that do to their son growing in her womb? Images in his mind of an elderly and frail Feanna trying to give birth to an infant already wrinkled with age disturbed him. He had to do it, and with Ritol now zhi-pure, they had no defense against him.

He shut the door to his library and settled on the floor with Feanna slumped in his arms, her back against his chest. The Nal Disi sat on the floor between her knees and, focused on the Guardians’ essence, he began to pull.

“No, Emtor!” they cried. Their pleas became demands, and their demands became threats. They tried to frighten him with images of his past—his father’s dismembered corpse begging for help, his brother’s severed head screaming at him to stop, his first wife, Talisha, choking on her own blood, and his three-year-old daughter, Caevyan, reaching with one bloody finger towards him as she lay dying on the floor. Jennalia’s words came back to him:
refuse the illusion
. Gavin gritted his teeth and kept pulling, unwilling to let his past mistakes defeat him again. A spot of blood appeared on Feanna’s dress and spread.
Refuse it.
When a limp, blue-faced baby boy slid out between her thighs, choked to death by his own umbilical cord, Gavin nearly stopped, his stomach convulsing.

It’s not real
, he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
I refuse it.

After what seemed hours, the essence stopped flowing. Feanna’s chest rose and fell in the deep, peaceful rhythm of sleep. Her haze, though still black and turbulent, was fully restored, as was the tiny blue-white haze within her. He hadn’t noticed when the Guardians had quit trying to frighten him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know that’s not what you wanted, but you’ve given me more this way than you ever could’ve by keeping your essence in the crystal.”

“I’m gladdened,” said the zhi-pure voice. “My complement is dispirited, and he loathes his weakness. He wishes you to finish this.”

“What about you? What do you want?”

“I wish to help in any way I can,” the voice said, “and then I wish for peace. It’s long overdue.”

Once he’d carried Feanna to their room and saw her resting comfortably on the bed, Gavin filled six large, clearly marked waterskins with tainted water, sure that would be enough to restore the rest of the people in Ambryce who’d been affected by the Well of the Damned. It was unlikely he would need the crystal further, but he also had to take care that no one else would find themselves lost in another realm.

Using Feanna’s amulet, he crossed the bridge into Tern unnoticed and slipped into the midrealm with a shovel under one arm and the Nal Disi in a metal box tucked under the other. He escaped the notice of the Elyle villagers who lived on the island and found a spot out of the way to bury it. In his own realm, this particular spot was in the back of an overgrown pasture owned by the crown. In the orange, indigo, and violet realms, the area had not yet been settled, and the landscape was covered with trees and bushes. A building with a thick stone floor sat upon this spot in the yellow realm, and in the red, the beyonders were too wild to develop tools for digging anyway. If ever he needed it, he would easily find it again, but if not, it would stay locked within this box for eternity.

He buried it a foot under the surface for the time being, intending to return and dig a deeper hole once everyone in Ambryce was returned to his natural khozhi balance.

It was nearly dusk when he returned to the yellow realm with a half-dozen battlers, not bothering with disguises. They spotted a pair of Clout and prepared to fight, but the Clout turned down an alley as if to purposely avoid them.
Good,
Gavin thought. The Barons had figured out it was best to let the humans go about their business than to have to wait as hostages in the blue realm while they got what they wanted anyway.

They found Feanna’s complement, a sharp-faced woman, squatting on the stoop of a ramshackle hut, chewing tobaq and spitting at the chickens that scratched at the dirt for tidbits. Every time she hit one, she cackled at the way it scurried off, shaking its head and flapping its wattles.

“Get off my lawn,” she barked as Gavin and his party approached. “What are you? Pink-mouthed freaks. Go on. Get!” She spat a wad of brown saliva, hitting him squarely in the chest.

He looked down at the blob of stinky spit as it oozed from chain to chain down his armor. If the gem in Aldras Gar hadn’t been humming so insistently in his mind, he’d have walked away. “I’m looking for the owner o’this,” he said, holding up a shiny gold coin. Greed, he discovered, was an easy emotion to nourish among the kho-bent.

The woman licked her black lips. “I lost a coin like that. Give it here.”

“What’s your name?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I do. Tell me your name and the coin is yours.”

He watched the suspicion give way to greed in her eyes as her gaze went back and forth from his face to the coin between his fingers, finally settling on the gold.

“Snonzque Quabd Sydtsul. Now give it here.” She reached for it with skeletal hands.

He flicked it off his index finger with his thumb and sent it spinning into the air with a
ting.
She caught it in her outstretched hands and clutched it to herself as if it were a morsel of cheese and she’d been weeks without food.

“See you soon,” he said with a wink. They walked back the way they came and returned to their own realm.

The moment Gavin and his battlers stepped through the vortex into her sight, Feanna renewed her curses. She was seated in the ballroom of Chatworyth Palace with her ankles bound to the chair legs and her hands bound behind its back. “I hope you get bitten by a thousand fleas, you stupid, no-good, mongrel dog. I hate you. I hate you and your craven Gavin-spawn.”

“Yeh, I know,” he said patiently, “but not for long.”

Cirang hurried in, accompanied by Daia, and handed him the summoning rune. “I can run out and re-etch the other rune if you’d like.”

“Not right now,” he said. He would need it, but not right away.

“Am I late?” Edan said, shutting the door behind him.

“No, I was just getting started.”

Hennah and Lilalian took their places facing Gavin, hands on the hilt of their weapons, though he’d tried to assure them it wouldn’t be necessary.

“Getting started doing what?” Feanna demanded. “Untie me, I said. Gavin, tell them to untie me.”

He ignored her. It would be over soon. With the old woman’s name in mind, Gavin whispered the name of the rune.

Snonzque stepped through the vortex, shock and anger in equal measure in her expression. “What’s the meaning of this? How dare you abduct me from my home, you ugly pink-mouthed outlander?”

“Calm yourself. This’ll only take a minute.” Though the two women screamed at him with both volume and vitriol, with Daia’s help, Gavin was able to quiet his mind and focus on the words that Carthis had taught him.

It was working. The essence of one flowed into the other, emptying and filling at the same time. As their essences flowed into one another, the two women quieted, no doubt sensing the exchange. As soon as it was done, they resumed their bellyaching, demanding to know what had happened. Gavin released the old woman, excitement and hope awakened every muscle and every inch of his skin. This was it—the moment he would get his wife back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Feanna demanded, spittle building in the corners of her mouth. “Who do you think you are?”

He pulled the marked water skin from his knapsack and set the bag down. “You’re going to drink a sip o’this water.”

“I will not.” Her muscles bunched and tightened as she fought against the straps that tied her to the chair. The veins in her neck looked like they were trying to break through her skin.

On his nod, Daia got into position behind Feanna and, with a hand on her forehead, tilted her head back. “Drink it, Your Majesty, or I’ll have to pinch your nose shut. I’d rather not have to handle you so roughly.”

“Go to hell. You can’t command me, wench. I’ll see that your—” Daia pinched her nose. “Stop it. Stop it right this instant.”

Gavin tipped the skin’s opening over Feanna’s mouth and let a bit of the water trickle in. She coughed most of it out and began to struggle against her bindings and Daia’s grasp, but Hennah and Lilalian were there to hold her by the shoulders. “Swallow,” Gavin said, “and we’ll let you go.”

Her throat bobbed as the tainted water went down. The battlers released her, and Hennah bent to untie her ankles. “Satisfied?” she asked.

Gavin watched his wife with eager expectation. Her pinched brow smoothed, her flared nostrils relaxed, and her body’s trembling quieted.

“Oh,” she said. The shackles fell to the floor with a rattle, and she put both hands over her mouth. “Gavin? Was that... real?” She looked around at the eager, hopeful faces and burst into tears, her shoulders hunched. “I’m so sorry. How could I have been so dreadful?”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Gavin pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. The relief he felt was trumped only by his joy. “You’re back. I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”