The Last Enchanter (19 page)

Marcus followed Jayson down the stairs to the table, but he did not sit down.

“Brommel and I were discussing your situation.” Jayson took his seat again. “I asked around about the man who attacked you. His name was Arnot, and he was an assassin. Apparently he's got a bit of a reputation over at the Dragon's Head. He was obviously supposed to kill you, but he failed. I don't know who hired him—”

Marcus willed his mouth to move. “Chancellor Prost,” he whispered. “I overheard them last night, but I thought he wanted to kill—”

His voice broke off as fresh tears filled his eyes.

“Of course it was Prost,” said Brommel, his voice sharp and low. “He's a treacherous snake, that one.”

“When news of Zyll's death gets out,” said Jayson, “he will know you are still alive—and will send someone else to properly finish the job.”

A log in the fireplace broke in two, sending a shower of sparks into the air. Marcus watched the flames flicker and move as though they were alive. He recalled the first time Zyll had taught him to make fire with magic. His attempt had been an utter failure.

“Don't you see, lad?” Brommel said. “If you stay in Dokur, sooner or later you will die.”

Marcus looked from Brommel to Jayson and back again. “What difference would it make if I die?” he asked. “And why would Prost, or anyone, go through the trouble of killing—or
defending
—me?”

Brommel and Jayson exchanged knowing glances. Brommel took a long, hard swig of his ale, and then set the tankard down on the table. “Zyll told me about your abilities, Marcus.”

“What abilities?” asked Marcus.

Brommel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You saw him die, didn't you?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “You saw exactly how it happened well before it happened.”

Marcus nodded slowly. He did not want to think of that image now, though it was etched forever in his mind.

Suddenly Brommel seemed anxious, as if he couldn't
sit still any longer. When he stood, he was even taller than Marcus had thought, towering above him in the firelight. But the man was not fearsome in the least. Instead, his face held a kind of awed expression, as though he were standing in the presence of one greater than himself.

“We've waited years for you, Marcus. Some of us thought you'd never come.”

Marcus shook his head. “I don't understand,” he said, looking to Jayson for some explanation. “Who is ‘we'?”

“The Guilde, son,” said Jayson. “It's an ancient society sworn to protect those like yourself. Zyll was a great enchanter, with skills he learned as a young man from his father. But your abilities are not learned. They're inherited.”

Marcus's legs went weak. He reached for the table and held onto it.

“Inherited?” he asked. “From Zyll? From you?”

“Not from me,” Jayson answered.

“Zyll said you have visions of
her
,” said Brommel.

Marcus nodded. “I dream of her sometimes. I used to think she was my angel.”

“They're not dreams, lad. You have a gift. You can see things, people and places that are far away in distance and time.” Brommel grasped Marcus by his shoulders, grinning proudly down at him. “You're a seer!”

Fifty-two

A
seer,” Brommel repeated, “the first one we've had since—”

“Since Ivanore.” Jayson peered into Marcus's eyes, letting the weight of the words settle into him.

Marcus finally sat down in a chair. This was all so much to take in, and yet somehow it made sense. The pronouncement that he was a seer felt right and yet unreal at the same time.

“Before he died,” said Marcus, “Zyll told me that Ivanore lives. I saw a vision of her when I was there on the ground, dying. She said I'm supposed to take the key to Voltana and find its maker.”

“Aye, lad,” said Brommel, finishing off the last of his
ale, “you can't stay here. You are too important to us to be killed off.”

“But is it true? Is my mother really alive?”

“Aye,” Brommel said with sadness, “the Guilde believes she is somewhere in Hestoria, a captive of our enemies. There is much to explain, but we don't have time now. We must get you out of Dokur.”

Marcus looked to Jayson. “But why did Zyll lie to me before? Why didn't he—or you—tell me the truth?”

Jayson gazed at his son, pain and uncertainty in his eyes. “Because I didn't know the truth,” he said, “not until yesterday when Brommel told me what the Guilde has only recently learned.”

“Where is she?” asked Marcus. All his life he had believed he was an orphan, and now suddenly his mother was alive? “You said she's on the mainland. Does anyone know where?”

“That's a question we've been trying to answer for months now,” said Brommel. “Maybe this key maker has some information. The only way to find out is to find him.”

Above them on the balcony, Marcus noticed a door opening and saw Lael slip silently from the room. She stood, quietly watching the proceedings below.

Marcus sat in silence for several moments. So many thoughts raced through his mind that he could hardly sort them all out. What was he supposed to do when he reached Voltana? All he had was a simple key. How would he ever find its maker? And even if he did find him, what questions would he ask? So many things weighed heavily on his
mind, but one troubled him far more than the others.

“What will happen to Kaië?” Marcus asked Jayson.

At the mention of Kaië's name, Lael stepped back into the shadows.

“If she's found guilty,” said Jayson, casting a concerned look in Brommel's direction, “she'll be executed.”

Marcus felt sick. “I can't let that happen. It should be me in that prison, not her!”

“Don't be so eager to trade places with her,” said Brommel. “Her trial won't happen for several days. By law, the king must oversee all treason cases, and Kelvin is preoccupied with getting ready to attack Hestoria. So we have time.”

“Time for what?”

“To discuss the matter with Kelvin,” answered Jayson.

“You'll do that?”

“I'll speak with him personally. I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe.”

Marcus covered his face with his hands to hide his emotion. When he felt he could speak with a steady voice, he said, “Thank you. I'm willing to go to Voltana. But it's on the far side of the island, isn't it? How will I get there?”

“I know those parts well,” said Brommel.

“You'll go with me then?”

“Not I. I have a business to run. But my son, Rylan, will accompany you. And your friends can go with you.”

Marcus glanced back toward the fire. Its flame grew dimmer. My friends, he thought. How can I ask them to come on such a dangerous journey?

Jayson rose from the table, disappearing through the kitchen door. He returned moments later, carrying Xerxes in both hands. The wooden eagle's face was still and lifeless, but Marcus saw a deep sadness in his expression. Jayson placed the walking stick in Marcus's hands. “I'm certain Zyll wanted you to have this,” he said.

Marcus accepted it gratefully and stroked the top of Xerxes' head with his fingertips as if he were stroking downy feathers. He knew, even if no one else did, what Zyll's death meant to Xerxes and how important it was to Zyll that he would be cared for in his absence. If Marcus was to go without friends, at least he would have Xerxes.

“All right then,” Marcus said finally, though all confidence had left him, “I'll go at first light.”

Brommel and Jayson traded grim nods. Then they excused themselves and left the room, presumably to get things ready for Marcus's journey. Sitting alone in the now quiet room, Marcus hardly dared to consider what challenges awaited him. In the stillness, he heard an almost imperceptible noise coming from the shadows above, a sniff and muffled sob. The sound cut into him like a dagger and yet also confused him. Lael was weeping, but Marcus couldn't fathom why.

Fifty-three

C
lovis, are you asleep?”

Marcus cautiously opened the door to the darkened room and slipped inside.

Clovis stirred on the bed and then sat up, yawning. “Marcus, is that you? Is it morning already?”

“Actually it's the middle of the night, but I had to talk to you.”

“All right,” said Clovis.

Marcus sat down at the foot of the bed. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. He decided to get on with it.

“It's time for you to go home.”

“Home?” asked Clovis, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I have to leave Dokur. It's not safe for me here.”

“Is this about that man who attacked you? You're still in danger,” said Clovis, reaching for his bow. “It was my fault. I should have been with you. I could have protected you. I
will
protect you.”

“No, Clovis, it's not that,” said Marcus. “I mean, you
did
protect me. You're the best friend I've got. But I have to go.”

“When?”

“At dawn. I want you to leave with me—”

“Yes, of course. I'll go wherever you need me to, Marcus, you know that.”

“—and then you'll go home.”

The wounded expression on Clovis's face cut deep. Marcus felt as if he had just betrayed his dearest friend. And in a way, Marcus realized, he had.

Marcus forced a smile, attempting to comfort Clovis a little. “You promised your father you'd return before winter. He'll worry if you don't get home in time.”

Clovis tried to hide his disappointment with a weak smile of his own. His hand, which had gripped his bow, relaxed and slid into his lap. “I'll go,” he said, though his voice wavered as he said it. He nodded and spoke again with more conviction. “I'll go if that's what you want me to do.”

Marcus sensed that Clovis was unhappy with his friend's request, but he was willing to do as Marcus asked even
though he didn't agree. At that moment, Marcus knew that Clovis was a greater friend than he had ever imagined.

Leaving Clovis alone, Marcus stepped out into the hall. Below on the first floor, he caught a glimpse of someone slipping through the kitchen door. Marcus followed the figure outside where the sky was full of stars, the moon merely an outline against the night's darkness. The well outside the Seafarer Tavern was nothing more than a silhouette, as was the girl standing beside it. The light from the open door cast a pale wedge of gold on the ground. Marcus paused there and waited for his eyes to adjust. Then he let the door close behind him and stepped forward into the darkness.

“Amazing, isn't it?” he asked, approaching the well. Lael nodded in agreement. They both gazed up into the sky without speaking. After a while Marcus lowered his eyes and watched Lael's face, barely visible in the starlight.

“How did you know I was out here?” she asked.

“I saw you slip out through the kitchen as I left Clovis's room.”

Lael turned to look at Marcus. When their eyes met, Marcus's cheeks grew hot. Certain his face was bright red, he was glad it was dark so she wouldn't notice.

“I'm sorry about your grandfather,” she said, and by the expression in her eyes, he knew she meant it.

“Thank you,” Marcus replied. It was difficult to find words. Words had no place on a night like this, a night in which the stars and the sounds of the sea should be enough. But Marcus needed to speak.

“Lael,” he began, “I have to go away for a while. If I stay in Dokur, I have a good chance of getting killed. Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Is Clovis going with you?”

“No,” said Marcus. “He has to get back to his family. His father's expecting him home soon.”

“And where are
you
going?”

“To Voltana.”

Lael looked at him again, her jaw clenched in anger. “You're insane. Voltana's the most desolate spot on the island. No one goes there.”

“I have to. I think my mother might be alive, and I may find information about her there.”

Lael walked around to the opposite side of the well. The darkness there seemed to swallow her up, so Marcus could not see her anymore. Only her voice penetrated the night. “I understand how important it is to find your mother,” said Lael. “I've been trying to find mine, too, but so far nothing. I'll go with you to Voltana, Marcus Frye, and who knows, maybe I'll find my mother there, as well.”

Lael came the rest of the way around the well until she stood directly in front of Marcus. She was close enough that Marcus could feel the warmth of her breath against his face and smell the sweet scent of apples in her hair. Suddenly he wanted to touch her. He reached out his hand toward her but then stopped.