The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (45 page)

“Fine.”

As Zecus glared at the gravel underneath his boots, Boah spoke up.

“I fail to see how this helps us.”

Zecus glanced up to find everyone staring at Boah.

The man stared up at Kenders and said, “You said you are going to stay with us for a few weeks only, yes? We won’t be out of the Southlands by the time you mean to come back.”

Zecus turned to stare at Kenders. Boah was right. Even with horses, they would barely be over the Fernsford Bridge by then.

“He’s right. You’ll accomplish nothing other than missing your studies.”

Kenders shot Tobias a nervous glance.

The tomble waved a hand and said, “Do not look at me. This was your idea.”

She sighed, looked back to the Borderlanders, and said, “I will explain everything once we leave the enclave.” Shifting her gaze between Joshmuel and Boah, she added, “Now, if you two would choose a horse, we can be underway.” She glanced toward the gate. “Quickly, please. Before the guards change.”

Boah stepped forward, gave Zecus a helpless shrug, and moved toward the horses. Joshmuel followed. While they mounted and settled themselves in the saddles, Zecus remained rooted in place, never taking his eyes off Kenders. She avoided his gaze, looking anywhere but at him.

Once situated on one of the horses, Joshmuel said, “Time to go, son.”

Zecus’ frown deepened. Seething, he faced Simiah, placed his boot in a stirrup, and lifted himself into the saddle. This was not over.

Exiting the enclave was simpler than Zecus could have hoped.

The magic used by Tobias to keep them hidden, paired with a Weave by Kenders to muffle their sounds allowed the group to ride past the guards unchallenged. One of the soldiers glanced up as they rode past, a curious expression on his face, but after a few tense moments he shrugged his shoulders and went back to talking with the other guards.

As Zecus and Kenders knew Claw better than the others did, they led the group through the village. Zecus repeatedly peered over at Kenders as they rode, silently urging her to look at him. She refused to meet his gaze. Even if she had, he would not have been able to speak with her. Not only had Tobias ordered them all to remain quiet, Kenders’ Weave muted the world. To Zecus, it seemed as if he had a pair of folded, woolen blankets covering his ears.

Upon reaching the western edge of town, Zecus guided them down the dirt road leading west, away from Claw. As they passed beyond the outer limit of the enclave’s protective shroud, the town and castle disappeared from sight. Wondering if they should stop yet, Zecus glanced back at Tobias. The White Lion waved his hand, indicating they should continue further into the forest. Zecus complied.

Once the trunks of the winter-bare oaks hid the bluff, Zecus heard the muffled voice of the tomble White Lion call, “Drop the Weaves!”

Moments later, a rush of sound hit Zecus and he started, surprised by how loud the nighttime forest seemed: creaking trees, wind whistling in the branches, an owl hooting in the distance. Moonlight streamed through the leafless branches overhead, turning the ground into a mesh of light and shadow.

Hearing a rustle of movement behind him, he turned to see Tobias urging his horse forward, wedging the chestnut in between Joshmuel and Boah’s horse. For the first time, Zecus noted the two tan mounts were actually Nikalys and Jak’s horses, Hal and Goshen.

As the White Lion stopped his horse between Kenders and Zecus, he fixed her with a speculative gaze and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kenders gave a short, resolute nod.

“Yes.”

“My earlier offer still stands.”

“No, I want to try.”

Zecus peered over the top of the tomble’s head and at Kenders’ determined profile.

“Try what?”

She ignored him, handed Smoke’s reins to Tobias, and began to dismount.

Raising his voice, he asked again, “What are you going to try?”

Hopping to the ground, Kenders strode away from the horses, further down the road.

Worried, Zecus shifted his gaze to Tobias and asked, “What is she doing?”

Tobias turned to look at Zecus, his eyes glinting with more than the reflected light from the two moons.

“Hopefully learning a lesson.”

“What does that mean?”

Tobias stared straight ahead.

“You will see.”

Turning his head, Zecus called, “Kenders!” He had a bad feeling about this.

She continued to ignore him as she strode through the mottled moonlight. Joshmuel and Boah both directed their horses forward to line up with Zecus and Tobias.

Boah whispered, “What’s happening?”

Zecus mumbled, “I do not know.” Looking over at Tobias, he added, “And he will not tell me.”

The tomble remained silent, his gaze locked on Kenders. She had stopped thirty paces from the horses and was standing motionless in the road.

Joshmuel muttered, “I believe I now understand how she means to help us.”

As one, Zecus and Boah asked, “How?”

“It was not that long ago we were all in Freehaven, was it not?” asked Joshmuel. He turned to Zecus. “Yet with but a single step, we were here.”

Zecus’ eyes opened wide, a jolt of fear stabbing his chest. He whipped his head around to stare at Tobias.

“Have you taught her the Weave for a port?”

Without taking his gaze from Kenders, Tobias gave a small shake of his head.

“No, I have not.”

Zecus placed his boot on his father’s horse and shoved it away, trying to create enough room to dismount.

“Move!”

Joshmuel complied, yet still asked, “What is wrong?”

Zecus did not waste time explaining. He leapt off Simiah in a rush and began to jog to where Kenders stood.

“Stop! Please!”

He had taken but a half-dozen steps when the sound of fabric being ripped in two filled the forest, shredding the night’s solitude. Zecus skidded to a stop, gaping at the sight before him. A forty-foot tall black slit had appeared before Kenders, stretching from the ground into the oak branches. On either side of the tear in reality, the forest rippled as though a painting on a slashed canvas.

Movement pulled his attention from the port and back to Kenders as she collapsed to the ground, limp.

“Kenders!”

He sprinted to her side and dropped to his knees. Rocks and stones dug into his shins. She lay on her side, her cord-bound hair draped over her cheek. He rolled her onto her back gently, placed his hand to her chest, and said silent prayer to Khanos, the God of Life.

“Please, please, please…”

Upon feeling the slow thudding of a heartbeat, he closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. Hearing hurried footsteps, he looked up to find his father and Boah running toward him.

Joshmuel called, “Is she alright?”

Nodding, Zecus said, “She’s alive.”

When they reached where Kenders lay, Joshmuel dropped to his knees and checked for himself, also placing his hand over her heart. Boah stood nearby, alternating between staring at Kenders and the towering port silently looming over them.

Peering back down the dirt road, Zecus observed Tobias still sitting in his saddle, ignoring them entirely. His gaze was locked on the port, an expression of open wonderment on his face.

A hot rage bubbled inside Zecus. Pushing himself from the ground, he shouted, “How could you let her do that?!”

Tobias shifted his gaze to Zecus, then to Kenders. He kicked his horse’s sides, snapped the reins, and began to ride forward.

From the ground, his father looked up, his eyes filled with concern.

“I do not understand. What happened to her?”

Zecus stared at his father and growled, “This is what happens to her when she does not know what she is doing.”

“Seems like she knows what she’s doing,” muttered Boah, his eyes fixed on the port.

Frustrated, Zecus said, “There is more to it than that.”

Neither of them knew the danger in which she had just placed herself.

He wheeled to face Tobias again, finding the tomble only a few paces away. Forgetting to show any sort of respect for the White Lion, Zecus yelled, “You knew she was going to do this, didn’t you?!”

“I did,” replied Tobias nonchalantly, his gaze back on the towering blackness.

“And you let her?!”

Tobias dropped his stare to Zecus and nodded.

“Obviously.”

“You heard Broedi! He—”

“Is overcautious at times,” interjected Tobias firmly. His gaze shifted to Kenders. “Knowing what her mother was capable of doing, I believed she could handle this.”

Zecus’ eyes went wide.

“You
believed
? You risked her life on a
belief
?!”

Shaking his head, Tobias said, “No. I discussed her talent—and limits—at length with Khin. He agreed that we let her try.”

Zecus was about to shout again when Tobias’ words registered.

“Hold a moment. Her teacher
knew
she was going to do this?”

A wispy voice wafted from the tree trunks.

“Not precisely, no.”

Startled, Zecus spun around, his hand flying to his sword hilt, and peered into the jagged shadows. A few dozen paces away, a thin, hooded figure stepped into a pool of moonlight.

“You need not draw your blade.”

The figure reached up and drew back the hood, revealing Khin’s skeletal, drawn face. Zecus, his father, and Boah stared in quiet surprise as the aicenai approached and stopped beside Kenders. Bending down, he extended a bony hand, placed two fingers on the side of her neck, and—after a moment or two—removed them.

“She will be fine once she wakes.”

Standing tall, he surveyed their group. After a few short moments, Khin said, “There is no need to worry. I have no intention of stopping you.”

Quiet surprise registered on Joshmuel’s face.

“You do not?”

“None whatsoever. I hope your journey is a successful one.”

After the Borderlanders exchanged a series of quick glances, Joshmuel looked back to Khin.

“Are you here to take her back to the enclave?”

“No,” replied the aicenai. “She will be traveling with you as she planned.”

Surprised, Zecus said, “You’re letting her go?” Like his father, he had assumed—and hoped—Khin was here to stop Kenders. “Why?”

Khin stared at Zecus, his icy blue eyes lit bright by the rays of moonlight.

“You can tell a child not to touch a candle’s flame a hundred times and, still, they will poke at it. One burnt finger, and they stop.”

Baffled, Zecus said, “Pardon?”

“Decisions have consequences,” murmured Khin, dropping his gaze to Kenders. “Yet she acts as if they do not. She must learn caution. I could plead, reason, or argue with her for turns upon turns, or I can hope a better teacher than I can convey the lesson.”

“Who is that?” asked Joshmuel.

“Not who,” murmured Khin. “What.”

“Then what?” prompted Boah.

Khin lifted his gaze and spoke a single word.

“Fate.”

Before anyone could press him further, Khin shifted his gaze to Boah and asked, “Would you retrieve my horse for me?” He stretched out a hand and pointed into the forest. “She is tied over there.”

Surprised yet again, Zecus stared at the aicenai.

“You are coming as well?”

“I am.”

As he rose from the ground, Joshmuel asked, “If you wish for fate to teach her about consequences and caution, should you not let her go on her own?”

“Yes,” said Khin. “But she needs to learn about other things as well. We do not have time to wait for fate to finish its task. Speaking of time—” he eyed the port “—we should not waste any more of it. I do not know how long this will hold.” He tilted his head back to stare at its full forty feet. “Truly, I am surprised it did not close when she fainted.”

“I’m not,” muttered Tobias. “The pattern she used was similar to the Weave I use for a port, but…different somehow.” He sighed and gave a quick shake of his head. “Whatever the reason it’s still here, Khin is right. We should not tarry. It could close at any moment. Get his horse and let’s go.”

Boah glanced at Zecus and Joshmuel, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “I am not one to argue with mages.” Turning, he tromped into the dark forest, on his way to find Khin’s horse.

Tobias glanced at Zecus and Joshmuel.

“You, too. Get your horses. Quickly.”

Zecus gave Kenders one last look-over, and then hurried with his father back to where the four horses stood, munching on patches of grassy weeds not yet taken by Winter’s bite. As they grabbed the reins to the horses and began to walk back, Zecus spotted Boah leading a black horse from the trees.

Once everyone gathered, Zecus climbed into Simiah’s saddle, after which Boah and his father helped lift an unconscious Kenders to sit in front of him. As he wrapped an arm around her, he stared at the tall void and asked, “Where does it lead?”

Eyeing the port, Tobias answered, “She told me she was trying for a place along the Erona River. The farmhouse of the two sisters with black hair?”

“Sabine and Helene?”

Tobias nodded.

“Yes, It’s as close to Demetus as she’s been.”

Zecus stared at the tomble.

“You have been further.”

“I have,” acknowledged Tobias. “But it’s been ages and I doubt I could picture the destination as is necessary. Short of taking you all to Gobas—inadvisable at the moment, I think—we should take her port.”

Zecus protested, “But you ported to the Seat of Nelnora. You remembered that.”

Tobias turned his steady gaze to Zecus.

“The city of a God is not easily forgotten. Now, stop asking questions, take the port you have, and be happy she saved you two turns of travel.”

Zecus frowned yet kept his concerns to himself.

Nodding, Tobias said, “Good. Now, as I am the only one who can port back should the other side of this thing be atop a mountain in Quan, I’ll go first. Once I’m through, count to ten. If I am not back by then, come through.”

Without waiting for any sort of acknowledgement, he urged his horse forward and through the blackness. The moment the horse’s rear disappeared, Zecus began to count silently. He had only reached seven when Boah announced, “Ten. Let’s go,” and kicked the sides of Hal. Leading Kenders’ mount along behind him, Boah moved through the port.