Mystic: A Book of Underrealm (19 page)

“’Tis far more than his purse held,” said Xain, fuming.
 

“I thought you said the woodsman was spinning tales,” said the constable holding his arm.

Xain’s face flushed with anger, and Loren glared at him. “You call me a foolish girl, yet you speak with the grace and skill of a sow.”

“It is no great shame to be a poor liar,” said Xain, but still he would not meet her eye.

“Enough of this,” said Jordel. “We require haste—more than you know. Constable, leave them in my care.”

“I am not partial to thieves,” said the one holding Xain, and her grip tightened.
 

“All folk have their uses if the cause is great enough,” said Jordel, with a look at Loren. “I will invoke my rights under the King’s law if I must, but I would rather you gave them to me with trust than by duty.”

“Take them, then,” said the constable, pushing Xain forward. “But take care that their grasping fingers do not stray again, lest they lose them.”

“You have my word.” Jordel bowed. “Thank you. Now come.”

He waved them out. Loren needed no second urging and made for the door. Xain hesitated. She gave him a look and gripped his arm, her hand replacing the constable’s.

“Come, Xain. You cannot tell me you prefer even a constable’s cell to Jordel’s company.”

“That and many things besides,” said Xain. “Though mayhap we may still avoid both.”

At last, he followed Jordel and Vivien outside, where Gillam scuttled off into the streets after a final wrathful look. Once they had left the constables’ training yard, Xain stopped again.

“I will not withhold gratitude for your help, Mystic, but I wonder at its cost,” said Xain. “You have pursued me since first I left the High King’s Seat, or so I have heard. Now you have found me, but I must disappoint you. I wish no business with you or your kind, now or ever, and will take my leave.”

“You may take it, but I do not yet grant it,” said Jordel. “I know not what you have feared from me these past months, but I do not mean to bring the King’s justice upon you. We do not trouble ourselves with such things.”

“Aye, you trouble yourselves with things much darker,” said Xain. “Things I know little of and have not the wish to know.”

“Darker than you might imagine,” said Jordel, “though not dishonorable, for the most part. But come. Let us speak of these things over wine, where I may at least explain my cause. I have earned that much, at least.”

Still Xain was reluctant, and for a moment Loren expected his refusal. But with a wary look, he nodded and let the Mystic lead them on. They did not go far; soon Jordel opened the door to a small tavern with a cold hearth. The place felt close and stuffy, and though it was mostly empty their voices did not carry far. It felt like a place for discussing dark deeds and terrible secrets, and Loren immediately wished to leave.

Jordel led them to a table in the corner and ordered a bottle of wine with four cups. While the innkeeper bustled to bring the drink, Loren studied Vivien. The woman had remained silent ever since leaving the constable’s station, though her eyes rarely left Xain, and she held herself taut as a bowstring. She caught Loren staring at her once or twice, but her predator’s smile only widened. At last, the wine appeared, and the innkeeper vanished. Loren leaned forwards to speak before Jordel could begin.

“I do not relish the thought of speaking with this one present,” said Loren, pointing at Vivien. “She has pursued us since Redbrook and nearly killed us upon the river.”

“Yes, I have heard the tale,” said Jordel. “But Vivien is a loyal member of my order and has been of great service. Though our paths have rarely crossed, I have heard only the highest praise.”

Vivien folded her arms on the table and spoke with a silken tongue. “You misunderstand me if you think I bore you animosity—or indeed, if you thought I pursued either of you. It was only the Yerrin girl I recognized, or thought I did. Her family and I have many dealings, and I thought it prudent to return their wayward child. Where is she, by the by?”

“Never you mind,” spat Xain. “If you bore us no ill will, you had a queer way of showing it. You almost sank our vessel upon the Dragon’s Tail.”

“You
did
sink my vessel,” said Vivien. “A curious thing, for I had thought you would be weak when I caught you. Yet you withstood me at my full strength. How was that done, may I ask?”

“I was born with a powerful gift,” muttered Xain. “Though it has seemed more and more like a curse of late.”

“It must be
very
powerful to have beaten me so thoroughly.” Vivien tapped a fingernail against her teeth, studying him.

Xain’s nostrils flared, and Loren thought of the magestones. The family Yerrin had dealt in the things for many years. If Vivien had befriended that family, she must know of their smuggling. Did the Mystic suspect Xain of using the stones? Would she even care? Loren still knew far too little about the things to guess.

“Enough of this,” said Jordel. Vivien and Xain broke off from staring at each other and looked down at their cups. “You continue your swordplay of words, Xain, but I tell you again that I mean you no harm. Already I have commanded Vivien to withhold her hand from you both and all who travel in your company. She will tell the family Yerrin nothing of the girl Annis—nothing more than she has already, I should say. Does that satisfy you?”

He looked from Xain to Loren. The wizard would not answer, but Loren nodded. “It satisfies me. If she holds her word true.”

“I will obey my commander,” said Vivien, but Loren thought she heard annoyance in her words.

“Then let us return to the matter at hand,” said Loren. “You have found me again, Jordel, and Xain in the bargain. I want to know what you mean to do. And how did you find us, in any case? The nine lands are wide.”

Jordel shook his head slowly. “Still, you ignore what I often told you in Cabrus: In the fabric of this world, some strings are woven close and others far apart. Some are intertwined, bound together, and find it hard to break free.”

“You blame fate, then,” said Loren. “You will pardon me if I think there is more to it.”

“I am not blameless, ’tis true,” said Jordel. “When you left me, I tried to follow your tracks. But once they met the river, I knew it for a fool’s errand. You could have gone anywhere. I sent Seth to Redbrook to search there and took a horse southwest here to Wellmont. Though it seemed an unlikely destination after what we had learned of the mercenaries, still I felt something calling. And besides, I hoped to warn the city before the sellswords swept down upon them. My road led along the north bank of the Dragon’s Tail, and that is how I chanced upon Vivien’s ship. I found her the day after her battle with Xain, and she told me her story. I recognized you from her description of the riverboat’s passengers and knew I had taken the right course. So I hastened my steps, trying to reach Wellmont before you could leave it for some other place. I have only arrived today, and no sooner had I moved the constables to search for you than you walked in the front door.”

“A pretty tale if it is true,” growled Xain.

“What of the other Mystics in the constables’ station?” said Loren. “Who are they, and how did they come to be here?”

Vivien said, “The Mystics have long had a presence in Wellmont, though we have no stronghold as we do in many other cities. They were to help us find you, though of course that is no longer necessary.”

“But while you may think my journey the more important part of the story, it is not,” said Jordel. “An army marches towards Wellmont still, and I think it will grow larger the closer it gets, as Dorsea finds more sellswords to join the host. I have warned the city, but that is the most we can do. I fear Dorsea means to level Wellmont for good.”

Loren looked at Xain. He gave her a slow nod. “I told him as much, though he did not believe me,” she said. “We mean to leave the city as soon as we may.”

“Yet you found the gates barred and had no way to attempt the journey,” said the Mystic, nodding. “I thought that might be the case. But under my badge, we may yet leave the city without incident.”

“I cannot imagine that is the end of your plan,” said Xain. “I do not doubt you have further schemes for us, Mystic, and I would sooner march myself back to the constables and sleep in their cells until I rot.”

Before Jordel could answer, Vivien turned to him with disbelief. “You mean to flee? We should aid the city. With such a
powerful
wizard in its defense,” and here she looked at Xain, “the Dorseans cannot hope to breach the walls.”

“I have no interest in wars,” said Xain, “and less in fighting by the side of a woman who tried to kill me only a few days past.”

“I will not say I share your sentiment, Xain, for all conflicts bear some import in the work of my order,” said Jordel. “But we cannot lend our strength in this battle, for we would risk losing a far greater war. I am sorry, Vivien, for I know you once called this city your home. If you wish to stay and aid it, I will raise no hand to stop you.”

“What good would I do on my own?”
 

For the first time, Loren saw Vivien’s cool mask slip and an angry fire burn in her eyes.
 

“We are meant to maintain order. The fall of Wellmont would throw the whole south of Selvan into chaos. How can you turn away, Jordel?”

His jaw clenched. “We forsake all ties when we don our cloaks, Vivien. I have permitted you to remain if you wish. Do not ask for more, lest I revoke that privilege.”

Vivien turned from Jordel, her gaze drifting off somewhere far. Loren saw the woman’s mask slip gradually back into place, and soon it was as if there had never been any emotion beyond smug indifference.

“As for us, we will leave at our earliest convenience,” said Jordel. “Do you still have the urchin and the Yerrin girl with you?”

“Yes,” said Loren. “They remain at the inn where we stayed the night.”

“Good,” said Jordel. “They, too, should come. The Yerrin girl may be of quite some use, and neither deserves to stay here while the city is at war.”

“None are more eager than I to leave this place,” said Xain, “but I will not go with you, Mystic.”

“Xain, I implore you,” said Jordel. “There are great forces at work in Selvan and across all lands. Men like yourself may be our only hope of thwarting them. A darkness gathers.”

“What do I care for that? One thing concerns me—a boy who waits for me upon the High King’s Seat.”
 

Xain picked at his elbow. Loren noticed he had nearly worn through the fabric of his sleeve.

“You mean your son,” said Jordel. “I know what happened to you on the Seat. If that is your only worry, I can ensure his return.”
 

Xain was stunned to silence. Even Loren was taken aback, for she had not known Jordel knew of the wizard’s child.
 

Xain recovered swiftly. “So you say, and yet if it means entering into dealings with you and your order, I will not risk it. This would surely invite greater sorrow upon him in the end. I will retrieve him by my own devices or not at all.”

Jordel’s hands clenched, and Loren saw a flash in his eyes that frightened her. “Wizards are supposed to be men of learning, but your blind prejudice may be doom us all. Will you give me no measure of faith?”

“None willingly. You ask for trust yet tell of whispered secrets and gathering darkness. You have given no faith yourself.”

“Very well,” said Jordel in a heavy voice. “You leave me little choice.”

Xain’s hand raised, and with an arcane word his eyes began to glow. Jordel jumped across the table and seized his wrist, twisting it until Xain cried out. Vivien gestured, and Xain’s arms slammed to his sides, his body cavorting like a marionette.

“Stay your hand, wizard!” Jordel bellowed. “I did not mean that I would bring you harm, and your suspicion suits you ill. Hear my words, nothing more.”

Xain glared at the Mystic with hatred plain but could do nothing. He gave a curt nod, and Jordel let go of his wrist. The tavern’s keeper and some of the other patrons had stopped to look at them oddly, but at a glance from Jordel they returned to their drinks.

“You ask for faith,” said the Mystic. “I will give it to you. Let us speak privately. I will tell you all I know—which is too much, as many in my order would be quick to remind me. And when I am done, you will wish I had held my tongue. But if that is the only way to earn your trust, so be it. Will you agree?”

Xain studied him silently for a long moment, his fingers drumming the table. Vivien’s eyes sparkled with interest rather than magic.
 

“Why would you do this?” Xain said at last. “And do not tell me again how important I am. I do not trust a Mystic’s flattery.”

“I never flatter,” said Jordel. “And when I tell you that your gifts are needed, it is only because I have never believed anything more strongly. Tell me now: Will you hear me?”

More drumming, and then Xain reached over to pick at his elbow. Loren noticed again how gaunt his cheeks had become—worse since they entered Wellmont.
 

“Very well, Mystic,” said Xain with a heavy sigh. “Let us speak and lay all our knowledge before each other. Then I may refuse you with a clear mind and both eyes open.”

Jordel shook his head slowly. “If you refuse me when I have told you all, truly you are blind.”

twenty-three

THEY FINISHED THEIR CUPS IN haste. The day had worn on, and so they returned to the inn where Gem and Annis waited. Vivien accompanied them, much to Loren and Xain’s displeasure. The children jumped for joy when Loren entered the room, but recoiled in fear once they saw the Mystics.

“Be still,” said Loren, raising a hand to calm them. “Vivien is under Jordel’s thrall and has pledged to do us no harm. Annis, your family will learn nothing of you from her.”

“Do you believe her promises? She has the smile of a jackal and serpent’s eyes.”

“Such charming words from a child of the family Yerrin,” said Vivien. “Your breeding shows well.”

“I do not believe her,” Loren said. “But I have decided to believe Jordel, at least in this.”