Soulbinder (Book 3) (27 page)

“Kendril,” the older woman continued, “a word with you in private, if I may.”

Kendril bit his lip, then nodded.

Olan looked down at the woman. “Madris—”

“Stay here, Olan, and secure the warehouse.” Madris grunted as she pushed herself to a standing position. She reached for a black wooden cane that rested against a nearby crate. “Take no action until I return. Is that clear?”

Olan grimaced, but nodded. “Yes.”

Joseph gave Kendril an inquiring look as well.

The Ghostwalker gave a half-shrug. “Hold out here until Maklavir gets back.” He turned and opened the side door for Madris.

They both disappeared outside.

Joseph crossed his arms indignantly. “
Team
?”

The wind was fiercer and colder down by the frozen river’s edge. It was snowing hard, the white flakes tossed and tumbled by the buffeting wind. Across the frozen length of the river wooden ice sleds scooted, ferrying passengers, cargo, and even whooping children.

Madris hobbled up to stone wall that separated the road from the river’s rocky bank. She looked out over the river traffic and smiled. “It has been a long time since I have been in Vorten,” she said. “I have missed it.”

Kendril wrapped his cloak around him and stared glumly out across the ice. “Miss what? Being perpetually turned into an icicle? I’ll pass, thanks.”

The older woman glanced over at him with an affectionate smile. “I’ve missed
you
too, Kendril. It’s good to see you again.”

The Ghostwalker turned his head away. He glanced back up the empty street behind them. “I think you’re the only one. You really had to bring Olan with you?”

Madris looked over as a passing sled skidded by on the ice. “Olan has risen rapidly in our order. He is already a section commander.”

Kendril pulled his hood up more against the whistling flakes. “Eru help us if he ever makes full commander.”

The older Ghostwalker tapped her cane against the hard ground. “You could have easily made commander by now, Kendril. You had potential.”

Kendril crossed his arms. “I don’t like to be stifled.”

Madris gave a sad smile. “You’re a stubborn old mule. And stupid, too.”

Kendril swatted at a patch of snow and ice on the wall in front of him. “Are you blaming me for what happened in New Marlin now?”

She looked over at him. “You still haven’t forgiven Olan for that?”

“Forgiveness has nothing to do with it. The man was a fool, and he let me take the fall for everything.”

Madris lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you deserve at least
some
of the blame, Kendril?”

The Ghostwalker looked away. “You didn’t come to Vorten to talk about old history.”

Madris turned, using her cane to steady herself. “No. I came because you summoned us for a matter of extreme urgency.”

Kendril sniffed. “Olan doesn’t seem to think there is any kind of a problem.”

The woman tilted her head. “He doesn’t know you like I do, Kendril. And when
you
of all people actually ask for help, I know things are bad.” She dropped her voice down a notch. “Now tell me,
how
bad are things here?”

Kendril did not respond immediately. He looked out over the stone wall. The sound of children yelping and playing on their makeshift wooden sleds drifted faintly over the ice.

“Kendril?” Madris’ voice was kind but firm.

“The Soulbinder is real,” he said at last. “I checked it out in the library. I was in the temple where it was uncovered. Someone was after it, and they have it now. I think that person is Dutraad, and after hearing Tomas I suspect it all the more. I don’t know what he intends to do with it.”

Madris sighed. “There is only one thing you
can
do with a Soulbinder, isn’t there? None of us want to say it aloud.” She shook the accumulation of snowflakes off her raised hood. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Kendril took a deep breath. “I had a dream.”

“So your friend mentioned.”

“I saw a Guardian. She warned me about Despair.” He paused a moment, wrestling with words. “She said…that night was coming to Zanthora.”

Madris looked quickly away. “Great Eru.” She closed her eyes. “I should have brought more Ghostwalkers.”

Kendril gave a slow nod. “Yes, I think you should have.”

She looked back over at him. “You have a plan already? To get into Dutraad’s estate?”

The Ghostwalker continued to look out over the river. “Yes. It’s risky, but I trust my companions. They’re good at what they do.”

“They’re not Ghostwalkers,” Madris said sharply. “We should come along as well.”

“No,” said Kendril firmly. “Too many of us and Dutraad will smell a trap. We need to keep him complacent until we can retrieve the Soulbinder.”

“So you just want us to sit quietly on the sidelines until you summon us?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

Madris gave a knowing smile. “You just don’t want Olan in your way.”

Kendril gave a half-shrug. “That’s about the size of it too.”

“The fate of Zanthora hangs in the balance, and you want me to cater to your personal preferences?”

Kendril’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t—”

“I know.” Madris leaned heavily on her cane. “This is your mission, Kendril. You have a plan, you have a team, and your logic seems sound. At least for now. To interfere at this stage, I believe, would cause more harm than good to our greater purpose.”

Kendril visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”

“But you will take Tomas in with you.”

The Ghostwalker wrenched his head towards the older woman. “Tomas? Absolutely not!”

Madris turned to face him. Her eyes were like steel. “I don’t care what you think of him personally, Kendril. Tomas is excellent at what he does, and his skills are exactly what you will need to infiltrate Dutraad’s estate. I want at least one other Ghostwalker with you.”

Kendril’s face clenched. “But—”

Madris hardened her gaze. “Olan is right about one thing, Kendril. You
don’t
know how to take orders. You never have. So tell me, if you were in my position, what would you do?”

Kendril looked away in defeat. “I…would take over the whole operation myself and run it with the Ghostwalkers I had brought.”

Madris tapped her cane. “Well, then, it seems we can both agree that I am already being more than generous. Tomas goes too.”

“Agreed.” Kendril glanced back over at the old woman. “This could be the start of…of another Despair. You understand that?”

Madris’ face grew grim. “Yes, Eru help us.”

“Then
why
…?” Kendril spluttered off, a confused look on his face.

Madris gave a kindly smile. “Because unlike Olan, I
do
believe in visions. And this Guardian appeared to
you
, Kendril. Not to Olan, and not to me. I can’t help but think there is a reason behind that, just as there is a reason behind everything.”

Kendril brushed some snow off his shoulder. “Olan won’t like it.”

“Truth be told, I don’t like Olan very much either.” Madris’ smile disappeared. “Kendril, if things here get out of hand, if your infiltration efforts fail and there is open conflict, then Olan has the right of command. He is Sword, I am Staff. The section is his if things become violent.”

Kendril nodded. “I understand.”

“I hope you do.”

He glanced over at her. “You’re putting a lot of trust in me.”

Madris smiled again. “I trust in Eru, Kendril. And if His purpose involves
you
, then that’s where I will put my faith as well.” The smile disappeared. “You have to get the Soulbinder back, Kendril. If Dutraad is able to use it…” She let the sentence hang unfinished.

“My companions know what they’re doing,” said Kendril quickly. “They may not be Ghostwalkers, but I trust each of them with my life. They can do this.”

“Kendril, Hello!” A figure in a bright red cape came traipsing up, his clean-shaven face almost as red in the cold air. “Out for a walk, are we? Yes, I see. Good for the lungs, I always say.” He came up beside the two Ghostwalkers, and straightened the feathered cap on his head.

Kendril sighed. “Hello, Maklavir.”

The diplomat gave Madris a curious look, then glanced back at Kendril.

“I say,” he said in a confused tone, “did I miss something?”

“She’s taking too long,” Olan grumbled. He stood by the warehouse’s window, peering out through the frosted glass.

“Relax,” rumbled Hamis. He took a sip of water from a canteen, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “She knows what she’s doing, Olan.”

“Does she?” Olan turned back into the room. “She trusts that Ghostwalker far too much.”

Hamis shrugged good-naturedly. “They’re old friends. She knows him well.”

Olan made a sour face. “
I
know him too. I’ve seen what Kendril is capable of. If Madris trusts him then she’s a fool.”

Tomas flipped a dagger in his hand. “Madris is many things, but she is no fool. You should know that by now, Olan.”

The black-haired Ghostwalker snorted angrily. He bounced a clenched fist off the top of a nearby barrel.

“So,” said Joseph, “this is fun. I’m glad you all could drop on by.”

Tomas gave a sardonic smile.

Wanara got up, and gestured to a plate of bread and cheese on the table. She looked over at Joseph and Kara, and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Kara squinted at the other woman. “You want…to have something to eat?” She shrugged. “Go ahead.”

The white-haired woman bowed her head in thanks, then took some food from the plate.

Hamis eyed the plate hungrily himself as Wanara returned to the crate she had been sitting on. He licked his lips. “I don’t suppose…?”

Joseph chuckled. “Go ahead.”

The large Ghostwalker began to dive eagerly into the food himself.

Olan glared at him. “You disgrace yourself, Hamis.”

“Oh, please,” said Hamis with a mouth stuffed full of bread. “I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.” He held out a piece of cheese. “Here.”

Olan raised a hand. “No thank you.”

Kara glanced furtively over at Wanara. When she spoke, her voice was low. “Can she…not speak?”

Tomas smiled darkly. “She
can
speak. She chooses not to.”

Joseph raised his eyebrows. “But why--?”

“It’s her vow.” Tomas leaned back against a barrel. “You’ve spent time with Kendril. Has he never told you anything of us?”

“Not much,” Joseph responded.

“But wait,” Kara began, her voice still low, “Kendril hasn’t taken any vow of silence.”

“And as you’ve probably noticed,” said Tomas with a wry smile, “neither have I.”

Olan crossed to the window again, tapping the hilt of the long sword he wore at his belt.

“Ghostwalkers take different vows?” Joseph leaned forward, genuinely curious.

Tomas gave a short nod. “Penance is personal, and so are our vows. Wanara has taken a vow of silence.” He inclined his head over at Hamis. “For Hamis, it’s no alcohol or red meat.” His eyes flitted over to where Callen slouched against the wall by the back door, tenderly touching his hurt nose. “Callen there has taken a vow of non-violence.”

Kara uncrossed her arms in surprise. “Non-violence?”

Tomas looked over at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Not all Ghostwalkers are Sword specialization like Olan or Hamis, or your friend Kendril. Callen specializes in the healing arts, for instance.”

Joseph stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I dabble in herbs and medicine a bit myself.”

“You should talk to him. The two of you might have much to share.”

“So the Ghostwalkers have different specializations? Different…” Kara searched for the right word, “roles?”

Tomas cocked his head. “You really don’t know
anything
about us, do you?”

“You’ve told us more in about two minutes than Kendril has told us the whole time we’ve known him,” Joseph said drily.

“So the vows you take,” Kara asked slowly, “do they have anything to do with the sins you have committed, the ones you are atoning for?”

Tomas blanched. He looked quickly away. “A Ghostwalker never discusses his past, not even with other Ghostwalkers.”

“I’m sorry,” said Kara, “I didn’t mean to—I was just curious, was all.”

Tomas was quiet a moment. The only sound was the pattering of snow against the window pane.

“Vows are chosen individually by each Ghostwalker,” he said at last. “They
can
relate to the sin being atoned for, although they don’t have to.”

“So what’s your vow, Tomas?” asked Joseph.

Kara gave the scout a warning glance, but he ignored it.

Tomas smiled sadly. “To always tell the truth.”

“A vow I doubt you have ever kept a day in your life,” Olan snapped. He turned from the window, his hand clenched on his sword hilt. “We should have left Kendril to rot here in Vorten. This is a waste of all our time.”

Joseph frowned. “Kendril has told us about the Soulbinder. I would think that you Ghostwalkers of all people should be the most concerned about—”

Olan spun on his heel to face the scout. “And you
trust
Kendril? Then you don’t know him at all.”

Joseph straightened. “That’s a bit harsh.”

“Is it?” Olan looked hard at Joseph and Kara. “You say you are Kendril’s friends? Then you lie. Kendril has no friends, because he trusts no one. He is
using
you, and when you are no longer useful to him, he will sacrifice you without even thinking twice.” He leaned in closer. “Mark my words. Kendril is by far the most dangerous man I have ever known, both to himself and to everyone else around him. He is a weapon that is out of control, because he doesn’t care about anyone or anything.”

Kara and Joseph gaped at the man, speechless.

Olan turned back to the window.

Chapter 17

“No one said anything about
Ghostwalkers
being here.” Senna looked over Maklavir’s shoulder and frowned disapprovingly at the cluster of dark-robed figures in the warehouse behind him.