Sourcethief (Book 3) (24 page)

"By some other means then. There were other ways.
Once there were many, but thanks to Tallax, there are not so many avenues
between worlds," Xizix said. His lips curled in a sneer and stayed that
way.

"Tallax closed the ways?" Kyrus guessed.
Maybe
I could open them once more.

"No, he used them too liberally, and the gods
felt the need to act. They worried for the havoc he caused in his time as an
exmundiate—a wayfarer between worlds. I think they might have been personally
afraid of him, though I suspect they were still above him. I used to speak with
the gods of old and think of them as friends. We immortals were creatures they
understood a bit better than the crazed, frantic mortals. It vexed them to
think of the ruin a sorcerer of Tallax's power could cause in worlds of lesser
magic. They are the ones who cleaved the worlds loose. I know not how many are
even left, but Tallax was marooned here with us. For all his wanderings, he
never discovered the secret to immortality; power alone was not enough to
achieve it."

Xizix turned his back on Kyrus. "You have
brought sour memories to me this evening, mortal. So many old friends that
rotten bastard Tallax cost me. I shall need to find some diversion to put my
mind to some other place. You may go now. I would trouble you not to return.
Consider it a compliment that I find your mere presence a danger to my
children."

"If I might, one final word before I go,"
Kyrus begged. Xizix turned, regarding him over a shoulder. "You never gave
your insight into that passage from Rashan's journal of prophecy. I have not
forgotten."

Xizix smiled very slowly. "Of course you have
not. But I can wield that weapon that Rashan has such difficulty with. Good
evening, Sorcerer Kyrus."

"Good evening, then."

A moment later, Kyrus chased a startled Xizix from
the room with the force of his draw, and departed back into the aether.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus emerged from the aether in his palace
chambers, warded tight against intrusion. It was empty and quiet, but he felt
it all the more knowing that there would be no Juliana, no Celia, not even
anyone about with a strong enough Source to rap upon his chamber door save
Fenris—and Rashan, should the demon return. He ought to have been tired but his
mind had pushed past exhaustion and into mania.

I could just leave this all to
Brannis to chew on.
Kyrus shook his head. He went to the bedside water pitcher and drank from it
directly.
I wonder if Xizix kept no water on hand to keep my visit short.
He sighed and drank another long swallow.

He knew Tallax, he knew Rashan,
he knew ... everything? Certainly more than he let on. What secret is so
valuable that he would keep it at the expense of Rashan's continued life?
Either he thinks I can manage without it, or he fears me knowing it more than
he fears Rashan.
Kyrus rubbed at his eyes and collapsed onto his bed. The lucidity brought on by
aether coursing through him had faded.

The last parting barb. Did he
reveal something by it? Is not knowing the answer to that prophecy going to
lead me to my doom, killed by ... patience?
There were many more questions that Kyrus needed to
work through. He stared up at the ornate ceiling of his chambers. The softness
of the blankets and pillows felt so welcome beneath him.

It was Brannis's problem, at least for a while.

The morning was cold, and the powdery, windblown
snow was left over from the night before. Soria and Brannis had decided not to
push themselves too hard the previous night, preferring a tent in the plains
over an uncertain welcome at Hinterdale Farm. They rode slowly and in no great
hurry. Brannis had more pressing matters weighing upon his thoughts than
meeting Kyrus's kin.

"When will you be able to bring that book to
me?" Brannis asked. They were riding a horse's width apart, but the wind
and noise of the hooves had them nearly shouting to one another.

"I ran into some difficulty just a short while
ago. I may be a few days delayed in returning to Kadris," she replied.
"Have, umm, have things been going well back home?"

"Rashan started doling out positions among the
Inner Circle."

"So you're one of them now, I suppose."

"No, I declined," Brannis said. "I
have a position outside the Circle. I have no need of their intrigues nipping
at my ankles wherever I go."

"But won't Rashan take offense? You're nearly
goading him to hate you, don't you see it? By remaining outside the Circle you
outrank him as the emperor's proxy."

"I had not considered that. The last thing I
want is to put myself at odds with him."

"No, the last thing you want is him knowing.
We're going to some trouble to put you at odds with him. By the by, did you
even try looking for another copy of
The Peace of Tallax
?"

"A bit, but I had more pressing plans. I
convinced Rashan to find a way to end the war with Safschan and save face. I
still do not see how they will think less of us or see it as weakness if Rashan
grows bored of slaughtering them. I waited for him to depart Kadris, and went
to meet with the demon king of Azzat," Brannis said.

"WHAT?" Soria screamed. "I assume
that since you did not wake me this morning screaming in pain and terror that
you lived through the night, but that was just plain stupid of you. You walked
right into a trap or would have if it had been one."

"But it wasn't! I just might need to stop
worrying so much about my own safety and think of everyone else. Have you any
idea the number of people Rashan has killed? I am doing all I can to rein him
in, and I might need some reining myself. I found out by report that there were
eighteen men still in the army's headquarters when I leveled it. Only two
survived their injuries. I am pushing myself so hard to be ready for a conflict
with Rashan that I'm beginning to be as bad as he is."

"Intent matters. You can't knot yourself up
over a mistake, or you'll stop taking risks. You're as good a man as I know,
Brannis, and I'll take your mistakes over most men's intentions," Soria
told him. Brannis looked over to her. Her face was flushed from the wind and
cold, and her hair was blowing loose behind her. He could not help but think
how different she looked, bundled in furs against the wintry autumn weather,
from all the preening women of the emperor's court and even her peers among the
Circle.
Juliana's peers. This is Soria after all
. Brannis found himself
forgetting that more and more often.

"I hope I live up to your confidence. I wish I
shared it. I worry that if I manage to stop Rashan ..." Brannis shook his
head. There was no point in avoiding putting a name to his purpose. " ...
to kill Rashan, that I will end up turning out just like him. He always maintains
that he is acting for the good of the empire. Do I believe so
differently?"

Soria pulled hard on her reins, drawing her horse up
short. Brannis followed suit, stopping a few lengths ahead of her. She walked
her horse up next to his.

"Stop that. Right now. That's the last I want
to hear of you being anything like Rashan Solaran. The similarities are
superficial. He started his career by killing his own grandfather, if you
remember. He starts wars because it lets him run loose among the sheep. It lets
him have his fun and gets everyone to respect and fear him. You're putting
yourself between his jaws to stop him, risking everything to save the lives of
half the world. If you can't see the difference between trying to save lives
and playing at ending them, you're not half as smart as I thought you
were."

"I know, but—"

Their horses were within arm's reach of one another.
Soria leaned over and shoved Brannis hard. Brannis was caught off guard. His
feet pulled loose of the near stirrup and he fell face-first into the snow.

"What was that for?" Brannis shouted. He
brushed snow from his hair and eyes, the cold of it burning against his bare
skin.

"I told you I wasn't having any more of that
nonsense. If you were Rashan you'd have killed me for that. Right there ought
to be enough of a difference between you. You want answers, he wants excuses to
kill."

Brannis stood, working a sore shoulder and elbow.
For the most part, the snow had cushioned his fall.

Brannis led his horse a pace or two away from
Soria's before he mounted once again. Snow had gotten into his boots and up
under his tunic, wetting him to the skin. It was going to be a long ride before
they found the warmth of Hinterdale Farm.

"Remind me again why I love you," Brannis
joked.

"Because I'm the one who's willing to knock
sense into you when you need it. The rest of them would rather lie to you, and
leave you miserable," she replied. A mischievous smile spread slowly on
her face and Brannis realized she was not looking him in the eye. He quickly ran
a hand through his hair to smooth it down, and brushed away more of the snow
that clung to him.

He brought his horse alongside Soria's. When he
leaned across she never showed a sign of flinching, trusting that he was not
seeking petty vengeance for his time in the snow. They shared a brief kiss
before setting off once more. Brannis smiled.

"I hope I never understand you."

* * * * * * *
*

Hinterdale Farm was a quaint patch of countryside
nestled west of Scar Harbor. It was situated far enough inland that the smells
of sea and city never reached it. The nearest neighbors were the Gullroy
family, whose lands lay on the other side of a low stone wall that ran between
a pair of pastures, but neither farmhouse was in view of the other, nor either
barn. It gave the area a feeling of isolation that was by stretches either
idyllic or desolate. In the snowy months it more often seemed the latter.

"Don't your folks keep animals or
anything?" Soria asked as they approached. "It looks deserted."

"Cows dislike the cold as well, you know. They
get out for exercise, but it takes little prodding to get them back into the
barn in this weather. Same goes for the chickens. The old plow mule, Buckles,
is too dumb to come in on his own but they keep a watch out for him. Look
though, there is smoke from the chimney. They must be home," Brannis said,
as if Kyrus's family was ever anywhere else aside from on market days.

"Do they have a stable for our horses?"
Soria asked. They were in sight of the age-greyed barn and the farmhouse, but those
were the only two structures to be seen, aside from a covered well.

"No, we can put them up in the barn. Horses
cost good money, and we never had it to spare. Buckles did all the work we
would have used a horse for, except riding."

The two of them rode down to the barn. As they drew
closer, they could hear the periodic
chock, chock, chock
, of someone on
the far side splitting firewood.

"Hello!" Brannis called out.

The chopping stopped and a moment later a man
emerged from behind the barn. He was underdressed for the cold, with neither
jacket nor cloak and just a pair of tall boots indicating any concession to the
snow. Steam rose from his sweat-stained shirt and puffed with each breath. He
carried an axe slung over his shoulder.

"What hey? Who's that there?" the man
shouted back.

"Kedan, it's me," Brannis called to him.
"I haven't been gone so long you don't recognize your own brother, have
I?" He caught Soria's bemused expression with a quick glance. They had not
discussed whether they would play at their ruse of names but Brannis wanted to
see Kyrus's family, not visit them as a stranger.

"Kyrus, that you? Haw!" Kedan Hinterdale
sunk his axe into a stump and ambled over to meet them. He was a square-built
man, stocky, broad-shouldered and thick limbed. Brannis dismounted to wrap his
older brother in a hug. Kedan came only to Brannis's jaw. "Hey, hey,
you've got some meat on ya now. Maybe we can put you to some proper work around
here for once."

Soria climbed down from her horse as well.
"Soria Hinterdale. Nice to meet you, Kedan." She pulled a glove off
and offered him a hand. Kedan stood looking puzzled at her.

"This yers?" Kedan asked, jerking a thumb
in Soria's direction. Brannis nodded with a smile. "Well, bowl me over,
another sister!" Kedan ignored the proffered hand and crushed Soria in a
hug. The big man laughed. "Aw, just lemme get your horses in the barn and
bring you to see Ma and Pa."

"I can get some of that wood for you in the
meantime, if you want," Brannis offered.

"Sure, thanks Ky," Kedan said. He pulled
the axe from the stump, and offered it to Brannis handle-first. Kedan then took
the reins of both horses and led them to the barn.

"You know anything about chopping wood?"
Soria asked in a whisper as she followed him around back.

"Kyrus was always awful at it. They stopped
letting him try years ago. I always wanted to be good at it, but they were too
worried I would get hurt," Brannis whispered back.

The pile of wood was half split, the rest stacked
under a tarp against the wet of snow. Brannis picked a solid log from amid the
woodpile and set it down on the much-abused stump that served at the
Hinterdales' chopping block.

Thock
.

The axe bit deep but did not split the log. It also
did not want to pull out again. With a heave, Brannis lifted the log using the
axe as a handle for it. He hoisted it high and slammed both back down once
more, shearing the log in two. His face broke out in a childish grin.

"Oh yes, mighty woodsman ye," Soria joked,
watching him with her arms crossed and a look that seemed at once both resigned
and amused.

"Been wanting to do that for years,"
Brannis said. "I never managed it before."

"Bran ... Kyrus, of all the things you've done
of late, that is the one that you're proud of?" Soria asked, shaking her
head. Brannis shrugged.

"Let me see one of those."

Soria moved to the wood pile and picked out one of
the larger logs. She could do little more than walk it over to the stump,
rocking it back and forth because she could not lift it.

"Want a hand with—" Brannis began, but caught
a glare, and put up his hand in surrender. Soria worked the log up onto the
stump. Brannis proffered the axe, but she waved it off.

Soria tucked her gloves into her belt. She laced her
fingers, pressing the tips against the waiting log. With a sudden burst, she
drove her fingers into the wood and ripped the log in two. The two halves fell
away to the side as a low whistle came from the corner of the barn.

"Mighty impressive," Kedan said.
"Don't know that I had a mind to mischief, mind you, but I've a less a one
now."

"It's all in the technique. Where I grew up,
they didn't let little girls use axes."

Kedan led them into the house. The porch floor
creaked with each step. The door fit askew with the jamb. Brannis's nose was
not quite able put a name to the odor but it stank of musk and cold. Inside was
a bit better, the bubbling of something on the stove reminded Brannis of the
long winters Kyrus had spent as a child stuck indoors to escape the coldest
days.

"Ma, Pa, it's Kyrus come home," Kedan
shouted. Brannis and Soria followed him in. Washing hung on lines was strung up
by the fireplace. Two large, gangly dogs that had been lying in front of the
fire perked up and lumbered for the door to greet the visitors.

"Scratcher, Big-Boy, how are you boys?"
Brannis asked the dogs as they attacked him in a joyous reunion.
They know
me. Even the dogs can't tell me and Kyrus apart.

"Aww, scoot, you seen him before." Kedan
shooed the dogs away, or tried to at least. They were intent on getting Soria's
scent, and no amount of scolding or shoving could dissuade them. She got down
on a knee and let them sniff and lick at her. "Alright, now git, you had
yer fun."

"Kyrus, is that really you?" Ma Hinterdale
asked as she entered the room. She was a taller woman, near to Soria's height,
with scraggly grey hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head.

"Hello Ma, been too long," Brannis said.
It was a new light that he saw her in, knowing that twenty-three years ago she
had betrayed her husband to conceive him. "I'd like you to meet Soria.
Soria, this is my mother."

"Kyrus, you've got a girl?" Ma Hinterdale
asked.

"Naw, Ma, they're married," Kedan
explained. Neither Brannis nor Soria made any attempt to correct the
misconception they had worked so carefully to concoct. Ma Hinterdale's hand
went to cover her gaping mouth.