Unlocking Void (Book 3) (23 page)

He gripped the knife tightly and looked at it through blurry eyes.

Chapter 28

Ryker slipped into Void and sent twenty patterns out into the gray darkness. Eighteen pings answered. Each one connected to a specter he released on the world. He was pleased to see all but two remained walking. He would replenish their numbers later.

Quietly he shifted outside Castle Jaden and pulled on the patterns. From all around the world each specter hesitated. Some were a hundred miles away in Cinibar, and some were much closer, but they all headed towards Ryker. He closed his eyes and tugged each one to figure out exactly where they were, slowing the advance of some and rapidly speeding the others. They all needed to convene at the same time, and if he played his tiles right, they would all arrive within a few minutes of each other.

He shifted his way to Aidenmar. The kingdom was ripe with Mages though most had returned to Castle Jaden. It was snowing faintly as he slipped through the streets searching for a Mage House.

Oddly, Mages convened in community houses in the capital Cato, grouping Elements together. They built beautiful structures of tall white buildings. Pentagon shaped parks were in the center, and training grounds on the roofs. It was the perfect place to pluck Mages. Usually he had to roam with alert eyes searching for someone laying a pattern, or lurk on the road to Jaden, but here he could pull them right out of the halls.

There were few Mages within the Fire House tonight, though it was built to hold several hundred. Whether Aidenmar had grown weak in their bloodlines or the Mages simply returned to Jaden was uncertain. A dozen wards set around the House to keep it from burning down, falling over, and crumbling. But none of them kept Ryker from shifting in.

He shifted up the floors until he felt kinetic energy ping his senses. A man walked through the hall just ahead of him, and Ryker stopped his shift to observe. The man was older with stark white hair and a slender frame. He walked with a tall mug of something steaming hot and a crust of bread bunched in one hand, while balancing a key between his fingers.

“Evening,” Ryker said as he rounded the corner.

“Greetings,” the man nodded and continued walking.

“Ne many Fire Mages here tonight.”

The man paused. Ryker could smell tomato soup. “Not any ‘round here anymore.”

“All return t’ Jaden?”

“Right you are, or t’ their families.” The man raised his mug of soup and continued walking.

Ryker grabbed the man’s arm, snapping his fingers and pointing them at the man’s head. The stranger gave a sudden start and his knees buckled. He fell to the ground, red soup spraying over the white stone walls like a horrible homicide. Ryker’s grip held the man’s spirit from slipping into the next world, and he quickly set his Void pattern to twist the spirit to his will.

“Burn every Class Three ac lower y’ encounter, ac make your way t’ Castle Jaden,” Ryker whispered, letting the specter go. Flame immediately erupted from its feet, spreading upwards to his head. His face held a blank expression as he walked down the hall. Embers burned where his feet touched, smoldering the carpets, but the building did not burn. The sweet smell of smoke filled Ryker’s lungs.

It did not take long for someone to see what was causing the smoke. She was a simple girl, a little rotund, and dressed in a sleeping gown. Ryker snapped towards her in a blink-shift, and her body collapsed as soon as he touched her neck. She gave him a frightened look before he took control of her spirit.

“Brand every non-Mage y’ see with your hand, ac make your way towards Castle Jaden.”

Castle Jaden appeared on the mountain as the sun sank behind. The castle gleamed with a hundred bright fires in the cold stone. The horses were lathered from the uphill effort, but they trudged faithfully at a trot. Robyn could hardly contain her excitement.

They reached the gates after nightfall. The guards stopped them and checked the carriage along with its inhabitants. She hoped the guards would not recognize her, but they were trained to know the faces of dignitaries and gave her proper bows with their surprised looks. They treated Malain with more respect as they searched his things for stowaways.

“Go t’ him,” Malain whispered as the guards searched. “Leave your things in the carriage and run.”

She gripped his arm and kissed his cheek before sweeping into the protective fortress of the greatest castle ever built. Structures soared above her, and pinpricks of window light casted halos in the mild fog. Few people were out, the shops were closed, and the general hum of the castle was muted by the gloomy weather. As soon as she was out of view of the gate guards, she ran.

The clap of her boots and snap of her cloak whipped the cold night as she tore towards the Lodge on the far end of the courtyard. She passed a few surprised Mages, but no one stopped her until she heard a gasped “Queen Robyn?”

She skidded to a halt on the slick stones and saw Mikelle, hood up, walking alone.

“Whatever are
you
doing here, my friend?” Mikelle breathed and glanced at the tower where Gabriel’s hearth fires illuminated the fog.

“I have to go to him.”

“Tonight…is not a good night.”

“I have no choice. I have waited too long.”

Mikelle pinched her lips together. “I warned you.”

Robyn took off without another word, making for the twin lights beside the main Lodge doors. She pulled the heavy door open and hit the stairs, taking them as fast as she dared.

She made it to his floor and walked the rest of the way, adjusting her hair and clothes. She had to be able to talk when she saw him and explain herself before he shifted away. Lael was not at his desk, and his lamps were extinguished. Only a small light from Gabriel’s hearth illuminated the anteroom. She moved quietly down the hall and into his study, hearing blood thunder in her ears in anticipation. He was not at his desk. His bedchamber door was cracked, so she silently peeked her head around the door.

He sat on the floor by his bed, arms draped over his knees with his head ducked between. His shoulders shook, and she realized he was sobbing quietly. She watched silently, wondering what could possibly bring him to tears. She had never seen him truly cry. He mourned the alleged death of his father in a morose way, cried tears of joy when he was freed of the Castrofax, had glossy eyes after she found him with a slit wrist in Urima Manor, but she had never witnessed him all-out weeping.

Gabriel released his eyes and wiped his cheeks, moving his fingers to lay a pattern she could not see. He set it against his bare chest. She saw a dark smear just below his fingers. It was blood. He had a thin horizontal cut in the center of his left chest that was slowly bleeding.

He took a deep breath and seemed to collect himself, staring at the spot between his boots as if he came to some mental agreement. He lowered his leg and leaned back on the bed to brace himself. His left fist clenched something silver. He pressed the tip against his chest beside the cut, and Robyn realized with a cold chill that it was a knife.

She burst through the door and ate the space between them in four long strides, throwing herself into his arms. He did not look up when he heard her, instead he lowering his head, contorting his face as he fought the tears. She wrenched the knife from his fist, and collapsed in his lap, wrapping both arms around his head and held him to her breast.

He dissolved, weeping into her tunic.

He must have realized it was her shortly after, for he wrapped both arms around her back and held her tight. She was not sure what to do, to offer comforting words or stroke his hair, so she knelt there and held him tightly. It did not take long for tears to roll down her own cheeks.

He collected himself, but she did not rush, happy to hold and be held once again. For him to dissolve like that, he must have finally been able to handle no more. He loosened his grip on her, but she still did not free him until she felt his breathing steady.

She released her hold and held his face up in both hands. “I’m sorry, Gabriel,” she whispered, new tears springing from her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was so brash, and I didn’t stop to think about your feelings. This is all my fault.”

His eyes were startlingly blue surrounded by red rims. He cracked his lips to speak but sealed it, screwing his lips to fight the new tears glossing his eyes. “It is not all your fault,” he whispered.

“What happened?” She kept her voice low to match his, running a thumb over his wet cheek. “What brought you to this?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I rationalized too much. I pushed myself too hard to learn Void, and I’ve compromised the Head Mage Seat.”

Her heart clenched. “That is not the only thing that brought you to this. You couldn’t take any more, could you?”

He opened his eyes. “I could not.”

She released his face and sat back in his lap, putting a finger near the wound on his chest. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a long exhale. “You don’t want to hear it all.”

“I do.”

“If I can hardly bear it, you cannot.”

“You would be surprised how strong I can be.”

He reached for his shirt and dried his cheeks on it. She was interested to know why half his clothes were strewn throughout the room. “No, no I cannot.”

She put her hands on his shoulders, the shoulders that bore her countless times. It was time for her to bear him. “Tell me what happened in the dungeons. Tell me what happened with the Arconians. Tell me what happened when you broke, when you faced death, when you were first captured.
Tell me
.”

He gave her a long look in which she could see him deciding. “Where do you want me to start?” he finally asked.

“With the worst.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes. “Axa, the first Arconian.” His eyes flitted to hers to see if she would react, but he shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

“If you came this close to ending your life again, you need to share this pain. Tell me.”

“Oh, stars,” he muttered and leaned his head on the bed taking a long while to speak. “She came to me two nights before I broke. She latched a bubble-pattern around my neck—it’s a pattern that prevents anything getting in or out—and she suffocated me.” He pinched his lips into a thin line and stared into the fire. “When I came to, she had gotten me on the bed…stripped me and tied me down. Then she took me.”

“Oh, stars,” Robyn whispered, one hand over her mouth, her other clutching his.

He met her eyes. “And she had me all night.”

“Oh, Gabriel,” she breathed.

“I fought her, Robyn, I fought her with all I had. I resisted and thought of dead puppies and frozen landscapes. I rubbed my wrists and ankles raw and even tried to lay a pattern to daze her.
Of course
it backfired and only left me dazed.”

She put a hand over his lips. “You don’t have to justify it for me.”

He smiled faintly though it did not reach his eyes. “I do it for me.”

“What of the others?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “By then I was already broken and didn’t care. You were dead, I was dying, I had nothing left to fight for, so I didn’t.”

“What of Lace?”

“That…is a story for another day.” He sighed.

“What is the next worst thing?”

“You glossed over the Arconians rather quickly.”

“Something I should have done a month ago. I should not have let it bother me as it did. I see now you had no choice, and I should have believed you.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“For what?” she breathed.

“Lying, not fighting hard enough.”

She stroked his cheek. “Only if you forgive yourself first.”

He thinned his lips. “Oh, I’m bleeding on you. Let me clean up.”

She slid off his lap, and he walked to the washroom. She saw fresh scratches across his shoulders.
‘Was that why his clothes are strewn about?’

He walked back in a moment later with a towel held to his chest. He looked leaner than she remembered, though he was always lanky and trim. With a pattern he drew the water from the blood on her clothes and another to flake the minerals off. “I know you’re used to dropping your clothes wherever you take them off, but this is a bit excessive.” She gestured to the room as he sat down again.

“Yeah…that.” He twirled a black ring on the tip of one of his fingers. One just like it matched his other hand. “I might have sided with an Arch Mage in exchange for her knowledge on Void.”

“That is…daring.”

“I may lose the Seat. She had a way into Jaden I couldn’t work out, and I couldn’t have the Arch Mages shifting in whenever they pleased, so I agreed to meet with her every night to learn Void.”

“And…other things,” she gestured to his clothes and submerged her heartbrokenness.

“No, not that. Very nearly, but no.” Gabriel scratched the back of his head.

“That explains why Mikelle looked so glum.”

“Was she talking to Lael?” His eyes lit up.