Unlocking Void (Book 3) (20 page)

Robyn had continued to summon him and write letters, but he ignored them. The girl who claimed to know him so well, the girl who kept his secrets and risked life and limb to free him. He had to let her go once and for all.

He seized Void and shifted to Kilkiny. It was easy to find her with a searchers-pattern, and he appeared in her bedchamber silently. The searchers black line pointed to the bed, and he quietly approached to find her tangled in the sheets. She looked peaceful as she slept.
‘It must be nice to sleep without nightmares.’

His heart lurched. He missed her. Part of him still loved her, but she cut him too deeply. It was time. He slid her ring from his finger and set it on her bedside table. “Good bye,” he whispered.

Chapter 24

Robyn awoke and immediately dressed for travel. Tears streamed from her eyes as she rushed about. She had waited too long to go to Gabriel. Her bag was already packed, and the only real challenge would be getting out of the palace unseen. She had requested Virgil to be her guard that morning, and he was to be her way out. Finishing her braid, she pocketed the golden band Gabriel left in her room and made sure her eyes were dried.

“Virgil,” she called and cracked the door. He stood at his post, one shoulder against the wall, and pushed off when he saw her.

“Going somewhere?”

She handed him her pack. “I need you to take this to the stables and have the fastest horse saddled. I will meet you shortly.”

“Wait,” he said slowly. “Where are you going?”

She pulled on a long red cloak, highly embroidered and trimmed in vair. “Do you want that peace treaty reinstated?”

“Not at the expense of your safety.”

He surprised her, and she smiled thoughtfully. “I am going somewhere safe. Please, hurry.”

He paid her a concerned look and slipped into the hall.

Robyn made sure she had everything she needed. She checked her notes sketched over several reports while following Virgil’s path. Aisling and Cordis were still out of the palace since their Council Meeting, so she would not have to contend with them. She stole into Aisling’s room and put a scroll on her desk. It explained that she had left and would be gone a few days. She failed to mention where and why. She could not have anyone following her.

She made her way into the main hall gracefully, careful not to let her boots show under the cloak when she stepped. She kept her head down, a sign she did not want to be disturbed, and mercifully no one greeted her. Two of her personal guards followed at a distance, but she knew she could order them away when she met up with Virgil.

Virgil met her in the courtyard, his arms folded over his broad chest and a sour look on his face. Behind him in the stables stood a leggy horse with powerful shoulders already tacked and loaded with her gear.

Robyn waved her guards away, and they stood in the shadows, never fully taking their eyes off her.

“Please tell me where you are going.” Virgil whispered.

“You will follow.”

“How could I not?”

She put a hand on his arm, and he looked surprised at the touch. “You have been very good to me, Virgil. Your kindness has not gone unnoticed. When I return, I will reinstate that peace treaty and send you and your men home.”

He took her hand as she pulled away. “I do not want to leave you. I would rather stay and see you every day than be an ocean apart from you even if you love another.”

Her lips parted, and her brows arched. “Virgil, I….”

He let her hand slip. “Go,” he said quietly.

Torn, she went to the horse and pulled the hood of her cloak up. Virgil helped her into the saddle. She adjusted the stirrups and made sure her bow was in easy reach, then unclasped the red cloak. He tightened the girth and let his warm hand linger on her knee.

“Be safe.” He said with a warm smile.

“Do not follow me,” she said gently.

“If my Queen commands.”

“We must do this quickly,” she said and looked for her guards, just out of eyesight. “Hold the edge of the cloak.” He took a handful curiously. She watched the people in the stables and waited for them to avert their gaze. It was hard to go unseen in a crowd, but she found the perfect moment and kicked her horse. The creature bolted out, and the red cloak slipped off, revealing a dark green one underneath. Gripping with her knees, she rushed the horse out of the palace grounds and into the city before anyone could stop her.

She made it through the Painted Circuit, the homes of the wealthy, and passed the Queen’s Gate without a second-glance. Once out into the main part of Anatoly City, she knew she was free. Cutting to a side street, she quickly made her way to the bridge that Gabriel built. Some called it the Bolt Bridge, but most called it Star Bridge. Star Breaker Bridge sounded too dangerous.

She trotted her mount across and into the west half of her City. Wealth was beginning to flow in, but it would take generations for it to recover from poverty. The streets were not as straight or well laid out, but since the bridge had been raised, she had been able to visit in her carriage. She recognized the way out.

As soon as she saw the plowed lands peek around a building, she kicked her horse into a canter and took him to the road. Early morning brought farmers in with their wares, but the road was blessedly clear. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she was not followed.

It would take her three days to travel to Jaden if she had no problems; less if her horse did not give out on her. She took care to slow him to a trot and walk him when necessary, stopping at every stream for water. As soon as he was rested, she asked him to hurry. Horses were dumb animals, unable to understand basic words, and their gaits were too jolting—compared to Gabriel.
‘There you go again,’
she sighed.

It had been months since she rode a horse, now always being pulled behind them. She forgot how easy it was to ache after a few hours. Eventually light failed them, and the stars shimmered over her.

Sleep evaded her for hours as she stared up at the night sky. The nearly-full moon and the broken star glimmered in the darkness, casting foggy blue light over the trees. It had taken her this long to realize what happened to Gabriel was not about her. It was not his choice, and she should not have blamed him. Tears rose to her eyes as she imagined what it must have felt like to be rejected as she had done to him, especially when he was most vulnerable. By the time she woke the next morning, she was more exhausted than the night before.

Ryker set the last piece in place. Every bone fragment had been perfectly aligned, but putting them all together would be a tedious and ghastly project. He would need to form the body and pump the heart before he could repair any bones. Dead bone, like dead skin, could not be healed.

They found almost every piece, but as it was with age, pieces were lost or overlooked, or not even buried with her and discarded with the pyre.

Ryker stood with the Silex around his neck, open to Void. Pike stood across from him with a robe thrown over his shoulder; hands loosened and ready to assist if needed. Ryker had already started the process to renew a body. It was a task that took dozens of patterns and Class Ten ability in all Elements, of which the Silex provided.

First he summoned the spirit of Evony with a Void pattern since it could take a while for her to arrive. Then he set patterns to form muscle, tendons, ligaments, veins, arteries, and more, layering them like he would paint a canvas. Organs came next as he connected each one to the brain, making sure each fulfilled its purpose. As soon as the heart was formed, Pike flexed his hand, beating it slowly as Ryker created blood. The veins and arteries seemed to flow correctly, so Ryker tediously repaired and replaced the damaged bones. Piece by piece he set the fragments together as he filled the bones with living marrow. Muscles covered each bone when finished.

One by one the blackened dead bones filled with life, turning white and smooth. Ryker filled the joints with synovial fluid, checked the lungs for leaks, set subcutaneous fat where it was crucial, and finally formed the skin. He worked back to front, toes to head, taking special care with the face and hands. Evony was older than Pike, Shalabane by birth, which meant she wrinkled young. With care he could lift the years off her eyes and cheeks.

Pike draped the cloak over her body when Ryker finished with the skin. He drew fine black hairs from her scalp that cropped to her shoulders. Eyelashes and brows followed as he formed a pattern creating pores, finishing with creases in the fingers and toes.

“Is she close?” Pike asked.

Ryker shook his head, filtering a pattern to fill the lungs as Pike beat the heart.

“She will be mad when she arrives.”

“Oh?” Ryker said without looking up from his work.

“She burned at the stake.”

“She’s had more than a few years t’ forget that.”

“Always the optimist.”

In Ryker’s vision faint gray shapes hovered around him. He could summon them if he wished, or focus in on their identity. He put many of them in the spirit world and had no desire to talk with them. His summons-pattern tug at his chest. Minutes later, Evony walked towards him, a faint gray specter outlined by the darkness of the spirit world.

“Hullo, my dear,” he said. Her misty outline smiled.

Readying the pattern, he linked the body with the spirit. Her spirit jerked into the body, and Pike released the heartbeat-pattern as Ryker let her breathe for herself. Her body jumped, and she gasped in a breath. Her dark eyes opened.

“How do y’ feel?”

“Eyes,” she mouthed.

He sank and delve pattern in to see the retinas were not quite connected. He realigned them carefully. “Better?”

“Aye.”

“Are y’ mad at me?”

“Nay.”

“I told y’, Pike.”

“What,” her voice gained a little strength. “What year do it be?”

“4152.”

“So long! I’ve been gone so long.” Both men helped her sit, pulling her robe around. “How long…?”

“Have I been here?” Ryker finished her sentence. “Nearly five months, Pike and Maxine about three.”

“What of Dorian?” They helped her stand, but her new muscles were weak and unused. Pike scooped her into his arms. She was a tiny thing.

“Nothing yet.”

“He died in the Sacking of Ganzen.”

Ryker looked at Pike with a surprised expression. “Do you know where?”

She rested her head on Pike’s shoulder tiredly. “Nay, my lord.”

They took her to old room from Ages ago. “I will have some food brought to y’.” Ryker said gently, “In the meanwhile, rest. We have a Head Mage t’ kill later.”

Chapter 25

Gabriel met with Maxine when the sun sank behind the Greynadaltynes. He shifted to the Shalay Le’Inchanna’s ruins where it was still light and watched her with utmost care, deciphering her moves to look for the perfect opportunity to strike. He had to be sure he was either strong enough to fight her off or fast enough to flee. No opportunity presented itself, but thankfully, she had said nothing. She sealed the night with a passionate kiss, a bit more forceful than usual, and her hands had gone to the tongue of his belt, but she released him without pushing it further. He could not decide if it was her way of toying with him, or respecting him.

Robyn was on her horse as soon as she woke. The sun rose soon after. Breakfast was cold bread and cheese on horseback. She was as saddle sore as ever.

No palace guards came looking for her that night, so Aisling must not have returned, and Virgil kept true to his word. She met few people on the road that morning and trotted through two small towns without stopping. She wanted no one on her trail and to leave none to follow. If palace guards came looking for her, they would find no help in the villages.

Midday passed overhead and began its descent before her. Horses could travel all day at a trot, but she needed speed, so she alternated. It was not long before she began to hit inclines in the foothills, and she slowed to a trot to save the horse. She passed through a third village which marked the border of Jaden with Anatoly and crossed into Mage territory.

Midday gave way to late afternoon, and slowly the sounds of hoof beats and wind-rustled trees gave way to the roaring of a river. This close to Anatoly marked it as the Cendaline River, beginning in the north and running south into Aidenmar and Parion. The road paralleled it north before cutting across and continuing on to Castle Jaden. The threatening clouds overhead finally loosened their moisture, and it began to faintly snow.

She kicked her horse into a canter, eager at the sight of a familiar landmark, and rode high in the stirrups to give her bottom a rest. She could already feel sores forming inside her thighs, reminding her she never got sores while riding Gabriel in tiger form.

Ahead she spotted a bridge, but she slowed the horse as she approached. Something looked very wrong with it. She dismounted and walked halfway across to get a better look.

Towards the far end, several boards had splintered and snapped, leaving a solid gap surrounded by precarious boards. She tested it carefully, one foot at a time. Her hand braced on the wooden railing, but they creaked and cracked as she stepped.

“You build a bridge in my city but leave your own to rot?”

There were few options. She could risk the horse and have him pick his way across, jump him over it, leave the horse and continue on foot, or find a skinnier part of the river and ford it.

She swung back into the saddle and kicked him north, making her own trail along the edge of the river. As far as she knew, Jaden only used the main bridge, but there had to be others because there were several villages in the area. She clocked her location by the position of the sun and the mountain peaks she knew by name. She feared going too far north and having to double back. It would cost her precious time.

She finally decided to ford the river and cut across to the road. The river had slowly been giving way to rockier terrain, but it narrowed as it wound north. She drew the horse down to the bank. Small chunks of ice floated on the surface, but at least the snow was not falling heavily.

She asked the horse to cross, and he balked several times before bunching his legs beneath him and awkwardly jumping into the water. He landed up to his chest and continued balking until she kicked him hard enough. Her boots submerged in the running water, but Gabriel made them water proof. Despite the biting cold, she stayed dry.

The horse slipped as he lost his footing and sank as he struck out into the current. Robyn was in up to her waist. She gasped at the sudden influx of freezing water, grasping for his mane as he lurched her backwards. Her cloak immediately weighted her down as it soaked with freezing water. It caught in the current, and she scrabbled for the clasp as it choked her, pulling her lower. Her horse panted as he sank, lurching to keep his head above water. She slipped off his back to raise him higher, one hand on his mane and the other still trying to unclasp her cloak, but his mane simply slid from her iced hand.

She screamed and lunged for him, but the current pulled her away. Her cloak finally unsnapped, but she was too far to swim to him now, so she struck out for the western bank. The water was beyond freezing, and she could feel her muscles seizing up. Her hands were already numb, and her breath came in sharp rasps, but she was far from shore.

Robyn scrabbled for anything she could catch and grabbed a protruding rock, barking her knee in the process. Not too far away was a larger group of rocks with slender saplings growing from the cracks. She released her numb grip and pushed out for them. She pulled herself up, shivering so hard she thought she might break her teeth. Her knees would not hold her, and she knew in a moment she was in deep hypothermia. Gabriel taught her all about it, having had to learn during his Water training. She had minutes to find warmth.

The sun was just beginning to touch the summits. If she hurried, she might be able to catch the horse and the supplies to start a fire. She crawled to the edge of the rocks and looked ahead at the far bank. If she was very strong, she could swim from rock to rock and catch the bank, but it was
so
cold.

Not too far away, she heard the whinny of her horse. He was close. She could catch him.

But the idea of putting her body back in that water kept her rooted to the rock. Her clothes began to crack when she moved, and there was no warm place to put her hands. They were turning blue.

This is where they would find her, come spring. Frozen solid to the stone like some morbid statue. She could not summon Gabriel, for she held his half of the ring. The towns were too far for her to be heard. She did not think she could muster the strength to yell, but she tried.

‘This is how it ends?’
she wondered.
‘Of all the stupid things I have done….’
Gabriel would never know how she felt, how truly sorry she was, how she hated herself for letting him go so harshly, and making it about how
she
felt, not him.

The horse whinnied again, but there was no use calling it. She could hear it crashing through the brush.

“Is she still alive?”

A voice perked her from her frozen demise, and she lowly turned to the bank. A young man stood on the edge, an older gentleman rushing behind him.

“Quickly, father,” the boy said, and the man urgently threw his hands out over the water. An ice bridge suddenly crept out from his feet. It latched to a rock and continued to the next. The boy rushed out onto the ice without skidding and waited for the next bridge to form.

“Easy, Demi,” the man called. “The current is hard t’ fight against.” He swung a hand over his head, and the water slapped against a rock not far from her, freezing solidly and joined another bridge. The boy, Demi, stepped across it easily with sure and lithe steps. Slender and of average height, he was robust in the torso and had the face of someone who spent much time in the sun.

The last bridge formed. Robyn shook with the cold, doing all she could to stay alert as Demi rushed onto her rock. He did not bother asking if she could stand; instead, he scooped her up and walked back across the frozen ice bridges. She closed her eyes, fearful of him slipping, but in no time his steps became more solid and elevated as he stepped on dry ground.

“Felicity!” Demi yelled.

“Here,” came a tiny voice as someone ran through the brush.

“Flynn, bring us some blankets,” the man called.

Demi crouched down and put Robyn between his legs. She opened her eyes to see a little girl holding a burning lantern standing not far off. Demi reached out for it, and the flames sprung to his fingertips without burning him. He laid a pattern Robyn could not see and put one hand on her back and the other on her stomach. Closing his eyes, he gave a small shutter. Warmth flooded into her, starting at her core and beating into her extremities.

Her body relaxed as it began to unknot, and she slumped into the boy.

“Well done, lad. Expertly woven.”

She looked up at her savior as he ran hot fingers through her hair to dry it. He was a rugged boy, near her age, with old eyes that had seen more than he should. They reminded her of Gabriel’s, though they were hazel.

“You’re really stupid,” he said.

“I—I would no’ say tha’ t’ her, Demetri,” his father cut in.

“Did the water no’ look cold before you jumped in?” His accent was Aidenmarian, his voice deep.

“I thought I could ford it. The bridge was out.” Her teeth still chattered a little. The older man moved his hands, and the remaining moisture from her clothes dried away. She looked to him for thanks and gave him a small frown.

He was built like his son, lanky and tall, with short dark hair and a nicely cropped beard speckled with white. He looked familiar somehow. His clothes were not exceptionally fine, and he looked wan as if he had recently been sick. He gave her a gentle smile. A gold braided torc rested around his neck set with two blue sapphires, confirming his Aidenmarian identity.

“You mus’ forgive my son. We’ve been on the road a long time. He has had little company but his siblings. These are my children,” he gestured to the little girl in a green dress and pigtails. “This is wee Felicity, there is my son Flynn.” A boy ran up with a blanket, taking care to spread it over her. “You met Demetri, and I am Mage Malain Whitestone.”

‘Oh stars. The Mage from the dungeons.’
Nolen had kept several Mages captive who he believed could beneficial to him. Mage Malain had been one, a man kept captive nearly two years in the Kilkiny dungeons. She had never been introduced, but she knew his story and face. With luck he would not know hers.

“I am Zodie,” she replied.

“Where are you heading, my dear?”

“To Castle Jaden.”

“What luck! We are bent in tha’ direction. I would be mos’ pleased if you would join me in my carriage.”

“I would like that.”

Demi adjusted his legs and helped her stand, couching her safely under an arm to make sure she could walk. Her body felt warm and snug within her clothes and blanket.

“Mage Malain, why are you going to Jaden?” Robyn asked.

“Demi here is near come of age t’ be Classed, and I am accompanying him t’ plead with the Head Mage.”

“Whatever for?”

“For the return of my wife. She vanished one night when I was gone, right out of her bed. I fear Arch Mage Ryker Slade go’ t’ her.”

“When did this happen?”

“Near four months past.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “What do you seek in Jaden?”

“Same thing all stupid girls would venture into winter terrain for.”

He nodded and smiled. “Love.”

“No man is worth getting killed over,” Demi growled.

“I have to get to him, by any cost.”

“You’re right lucky we saw your horse, or you would be a blondecicle.”

“Tha’ is quite enough, my boy.” Malain growled, “Don’ blame the lady.”

A black carriage came into view, weathered and dusty from the road, hitched to four fine gray Aidenmarian mountain horses. Her horse stood not far off tied to a branch pleasantly munching grass. “How long have you been on the road?”

“Near three weeks now.”

“You are only a day away from Jaden.”

“Tha’
is
good news. We will make camp here and start early tomorrow. Demi, form us a fire, will you my boy, and help your brother pull the gear down. My dear, we can put you before the fire and keep you warm.”

“Thank you, Mage Malain, but I feel much better. I can help set up,” she said, going to untack her horse and pull out her goods. The family moved with the precision of someone who had camped many times before, setting up a lean-to, starting a fire, and getting water on the boil.

Robyn set her things near the fire and helped Demi pull things off the top of the carriage. Malain moved to argue when he saw her climb up the side, but then stopped to watch with amusement. She hauled the gear down as easily as Demi. In no time they had camp set up, hot tea brewing, and stew on the boil.

“Where are you traveling from?” Demi asked as she passed around a loaf of her bread.

“Anatoly City.”

“For the love of a man? He must be
really
good for you t’ try and kill yourself.”

“The best.”

“Have you been t’ Jaden before?”

“I have. It is a beautiful place.”

“Are you a Mage?”

“Alas, I am not.”

“I think you have interrogated our gues’ enough, Demi,” Malain cut in as he poured everyone a mug of tea.

“Are all your children Mages, Malain?”

“They will be,” he smiled, easing back into seated position. “My first wife was a Fire Mage, gave me Demi and died in the process. I remarried another Fire Mage, and she gave me these two.”