Keeper of the Eye (The Eye of the Sword Book 1) (22 page)

He stifled a yawn as he snuck along the terrace back to his room. For the past two weeks, he had spent each night tending to Master Quinn. Aleister flew into a crazy rage when the seer disappeared. Fortunately, he never considered a fourteen-year-old boy a suspect.

Still, Alex was careful; leaving his room well after supper when he was certain Aleister would not miss him and returning at the break of dawn. He still felt exposed, though, despite the fact anyone he met would smile or bow and go about their business.

The first few nights he pilfered necessary supplies. Towels and linens were easy to acquire, and he had been sneaking down to the kitchens for years so getting food was not a problem either though one of the cooks nearly caught him the second night. Medicines and herbs proved more difficult, but not impossible. He even managed to sneak two cots and some lanterns down to the storage room. Every day he expected someone to raise an alarm over missing articles until he found a storeroom full of linens and several more just like it piled with discarded items. From the layers of dust in the rooms, he suspected no one had been in them for years much less bothered to count their contents. In such a vast castle, no one was going to miss a few everyday articles.

He also spied on Aleister. His heart raced as he eavesdropped on the warlock, but with his mind clear of the man’s spell he learned a great deal. Whatever Aleister’s ultimate goal was it involved the Wizard’s Keep, but with all the magical wards protecting the place Alex dared not go there. Several passages led into the Keep, but Aleister knew them well. All the more reason to stay away. Whatever Aleister’s plans were, thwarting them would have to wait until Master Quinn’s health returned. He would know what to do. Of that, Alex was certain.

Walking across the terrace, keeping close to the wall, Alex froze when he heard Aleister’s voice. It was uncommon for Alex to be out so early and uncommon was unwise around Aleister at the moment. He silently breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that Aleister’s voice emanated from the room directly above him, talking to someone. It was one of the study rooms off the king’s library. A secret passage lead from a private stable to that room, the perfect place to meet someone brought in secretly.

His instincts propelled him to scurry away to his room, but the other voice held him pressed against the wall. Raspy and sinister, Aleister sounded kind compared to it.

Alex had heard the voice before during one of his evening spy trips. He had caught a glimpse of the man standing at the edge of the room’s shadows, face covered by the cowl of his black cloak. The man had scared Alex so much that he had left before he could learn anything.

Aleister was complaining about the missing seer.

“What about the southern border,” the man asked, ignoring Aleister’s rant.

“Progressing as planned,” Aleister snapped. “Balshar is secure. And so is Tarlish pass. Once the civil war in Elowe has taken root, we’ll be ready.”

“We need the Paladins out of the way first. Make sure the southern border is secure.”

“I said it was moving along.” Aleister bit off each word.

“There was a large explosion of power in Ferais several nights ago,” the man said, still not acknowledging Aleister’s temper.

Alex had no idea where Ferais was. He wished he had listened better to his teachers.

“What were you doing in Ferais?” Aleister asked.

“Who says I was?” The man’s tone made it clear further questions were a dangerous pursuit. “The reason for the explosion might concern you. I believe your nightstalkers are dead.”

“Was their quarry killed in the process?”

“Don’t know. Best to play it safe and send more.”

“I’ll see to it.”

Alex’s heart pounded. These two men talked casually about releasing hellhounds! He wanted to run and not stop till he reached Cintaur. Stepping quickly, he moved along the wall. He was almost off the terrace when he slipped on loose gravel, falling into a plinth holding a large vase. The crash shattered the silence. Scrambling to his feet, he did not look back. Ducking around the corner, he almost bumped into a servant on her morning rounds. If Aleister did not spot him sprawled on the terrace, the man most certainly would learn it was him from the servant. He had no option now; he had to leave, not that he wanted to stay any longer.

In his bedroom, he was reaching for his pack when the door opened and Aleister stepped into the door. It felt like the headmaster stepping into his office where Alex waited for a punishment.

“A little early for you to be out isn’t it, Alex?”

Alex licked his lips. Trapped like an animal, his mind raced through various scenarios, none of them promising. “I...I went for a walk. The cool air feels good. Helps me think.”

“And what do you think about?” Aleister’s eyes looked dangerous.

“My...my sister. I think about Falon.” An idea formed in Alex’s mind. “Why did she leave me, Aleister?” he asked, creating tears as he did.

He had always been able to cry on command, came in very useful when he wanted to get his way with his mother. He had never used the trick with Aleister around, though, wanting to appear strong and impress him. The idea revolted him now.

“We had this big fight and the next morning she was gone. I didn’t mean to chase her away. Really.”

“What did you fight about?”

Something evil appeared in Aleister’s eyes. Alex could not break the gaze. A shroud swept over him, dulling his mind. He felt like he was losing his will. Part of him wanted to confess everything to Aleister, but thoughts of his sister held the shroud at bay like a lone candle against the darkness. He grabbed hold of that realization and held on tightly. It gave him strength. It gave him power.

“I don’t remember, it’s all foggy,” He lied. “I just remember being so angry with her. And now, she’s gone.” Alex thought his ruse was working.

“What were you doing out on the terrace?”

Alex still could not break away from that evil glare, but his mind remained his own. A flush of fear swept through him. He hoped it did not show.

“I was walking back to my room and heard your voice. I thought about saying good morning, but then I heard another voice. It scared me so much I just stood there afraid to speak.”

“What did you hear?”

“Not much, something about putting more troops on the southern border and a war in Elowe. I got scared hearing that man’s voice so I, uh, I ran into a vase and broke it.” He put on his best guilty look. “I’m sorry about the vase, Aleister.”

Aleister smiled and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry about it. Just don’t be listening in on any more conversations.”

Aleister stopped with his hand on the door knob. “That old seer your sister befriended is an enemy, Alex. He is part of why your sister left. You will tell me if you learn something about him won’t you?”

Alex was thankful Aleister’s had his back to him. He did not think he could contain the lie otherwise. Fear and anger filled Alex in equal parts. Fear of what Aleister could do to him and anger at what he had already done. He spied his dagger in its sheath hanging on the back of the chair. A trifle weapon, to say the least, but for one fleeting moment he envisioned hurling it at Aleister.

“Sure. Sure I will, Aleister. If I learn anything, I’ll come to you straight away.”

He did not really notice Aleister leave; it was a distant sight as the hazy shroud crept further over his mind, making it hard to think clearly. Like a person falling over a precipice, he grabbed wildly in his mind to hold on to the picture of his sister.

C
HAPTER
21

The Comfort of Dreams

The shadows grew long in his room before Alex managed to beat back the shroud. Only a lingering taint remained, seething just below the surface, but he refused to acknowledge it. He clenched his hands into fists to stop their involuntary trembling. At least his mind was his own.

For hours, fear had immobilized him on the floor locked in combat with an unseen force threatening to take over his mind. He knew it was Aleister’s magic, some part of his mind remembered it happening before. Memories of his sister were like small lights in the deepest darkness. He clung to them, fed all his energy into them, playing those precious childhood memories over and over in his mind. He refused to let the fear win, refused to be a captive again.

Wiping tears from his eyes, thankful for something his hands could do besides tremble, he began to form a plan. With the shroud beaten down he could think clearly again. Weak legs found strength as he moved with purpose. It was time to get Master Quinn and run. Where did not matter. He would worry about details once they were out of the castle.

He stuffed coin and clothes in his pack. Bulging as it was, the pack would be a dead giveaway. He only needed to reach the secret passage down the hallway, a very long hallway, but there was nothing he could do about it. The passage would take him to the kitchens where he could steal some cheese and dried meat for the journey.

Alex wondered what Master Keyrap would think if he learned his kitchens were a hub for a network of secret passageways. The servants used a few of them; one to the king’s study and apartments and a few leading to several of the suites reserved for dignitaries—servants were meant to be invisible—but the existence of many had been forgotten or never revealed.

Lastly, he strapped on his belt, dagger hanging at his hip, reminding him of his failure.

He opened his door slightly and peered down the corridor. Seeing no one he peeked out the other direction half expecting someone to be there waiting. Supper was being served, so most people were occupied. As he stepped out, a servant crossed the corridor striding down an intersecting hallway. He ducked back instinctively, heart racing. One last glance up and down the corridor and he stepped out. Trotting to the intersection, he glimpsed the back of the servant for a moment before she turned a corner further down. He stepped quickly, focusing on the tapestry covering the wall at the end of the corridor. It depicted a white knight on a black horse running a spear through some horned creature. Behind that covering lay the secret passage. Elsewhere in the castle was a twin of the tapestry with a black knight on a white horse hiding a similar passage.

Twenty paces from the tapestry he stopped. Someone was hiding around the corner. Whoever it was had shifted their weight, causing part of their body to cast a shadow on the floor. He licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder half expecting to see someone there. He backtracked to the intersecting hallway. The next closest passageway was near the Cathedral of Light, and it took him directly to the sewers. If Aleister’s men were waiting for him, he dare not detour to the kitchens, so all the better.

Outside on the balcony overlooking the courtyard of Heroes, he stayed in the shadows, thankful for the dimming light of dusk. The stained glass windows of the Cathedral shimmered in a myriad of colors from the candles within. He took the winding staircase down to the ground floor and peeked around the corner. Thirty paces to his right two soldiers walked down the corridor, making their rounds. On his left, the massive blackwood doors of the cathedral loomed twenty paces down the hallway.

When the guards disappeared around the corner, Alex slipped down the hall toward the blackwood doors and through a smaller, identical door.

The priest’s waiting room, used in their preparations for formal processions, was dark. One candle, set on a tall pedestal in the middle of the room, was the only source of light. It signified the light of the throne awaiting the true light of the king to return and banish all darkness. Lit when a king died, it remained lit day and night until they crowned a new king.

Alex was grateful for the dimness. Matching stoles and maniples hung on rungs from the wall to his right, various ones for various seasons of the year worn by the high priest and his second bishop. The candle’s light faintly reflected in the gold accents of the ceremonial garb. Alex paid it all little attention as he crossed the room and slipped into the smaller servant’s room. It was far less pretentious. The most ornate objects in the room were the metal thuribles hanging from the wall just to his left. They still gave off the smell of incense.

He had feared this secret passage would be guarded as well, but either the soldiers did not take their duty seriously or it was truly one of his best-kept secrets.

“Aleister said to watch this room.”

The words stopped Alex dead in his tracks, heart pounding. The flame of a lantern illuminated the walls as Geirsh stepped into the room. The shuttered lantern dangling from the man’s hand made the scar across his left cheek look more sinister. The man lit the lamps on each side of the doorway, bathing the servant’s room in light.

“Now, why would he tell me to do that?” Geirsh said with a wicked smile.

Alex refused to be baited. Geirsh was evil. He relished in creating misery. Alex suspected such a quality was a prerequisite to be the captain of Aleister’s personal guard.

“He told me to keep an eye out for you. Said you might show up here or perhaps a few other places. Something told me you would end up here. Not sure how you managed to leave your room without being noticed, but I suspect Jerome slacked off in his duties again.” A smile crossed his face. “I’ll have to discuss it with him shortly.”

Alex shifted his weight toward the secret passage unsure what to do. Part of him screamed to run; the other voice told him it was hopeless.

“No running now, boy,” Geirsh said, reaching for him but Alex sidestepped his hands.

Anger flashed across Geirsh’s face, and he moved fast as a whip.

Alex’s ears rang, and he was not quite sure why he was on the floor. The taste of blood from his split lip drove home what had happened.

“Aleister said to bring you to him, boy. He did not say what condition you had to be in, so we can do this any way you wish.”

Fear swept through Alex. His fear of Geirsh paled in comparison to the thought of losing himself to Aleister again. The shroud crept back over him a little like a prowling creature sensing an opportunity.