Tiege’s wings locked as Tate’s alarmed and confused thoughts flashed through his head. He lost a bit of altitude before he regained control of himself. His sister’s words had fear and adrenaline pumping through his system. Beside him, Zachariah looked over as though he sensed news coming.
“What’s wrong?” Uriel asked from his other side.
“I just received a thought from Tate,” Tiege answered, looking over at the elder. “She said that she and Ariana are with Knorbis, and that Eirik is with them.”
Uriel didn’t react to the awful news. Instead he asked, “Did she indicate that Sophia is with them?”
“No,” Tiege said, and a fresh wave of worry hit him. “Maybe Sophia tracked them and she’s hiding from the Mercesti while she tries to figure out how to help.”
“Ask Tate if they’re at Kanika’s so we can be sure—” Uriel began.
“She’s no longer accessible,” Tiege interrupted. “Her thoughts were cut off.”
“Her connection to you is likely being dampened by someone,” Zachariah said.
Tiege hated that the other male shared this statement as though it was a simple fact and nothing of concern. Anger had him glaring at Zachariah and snapping, “Don’t you care at all that they’re back in Eirik’s control?” When that provoked nothing more than a stare, he said, “You may not know what Eirik is capable of, but I do. Ariana was his captive for almost two weeks. I know what he did to her. He’s very creative in his tortures.”
“She has been trained—”
“Don’t you get it?” Tiege interrupted, fury making his voice tight. “He needs Ariana coherent and healthy to get the scroll piece. She’ll be relatively safe.” He watched the Mercesti process this and then drove his point home. “Eirik can shatter whatever illusion surrounds the scroll piece by tossing Tate’s barely conscious body at it. He knows this after the last time. He’ll use Tate however he wants to in order to ensure Ariana’s cooperation.”
There was a long pause as Zachariah considered Tiege’s words. Finally, the Mercesti looked over at Uriel. When he spoke, his voice was hard.
“You must bring us to the Scultresti’s home so that we can acquire the map to the library.”
“Hoygul will likely refuse to give it to us,” Uriel pointed out.
“Just let him try.”
Quincy, Clara Kate, Ini-herit and their Waresti escort flew for the better part of the day with only a couple of stops to rest. After communicating with Uriel, they decided to head straight to Kanika’s home.
The quiet flight gave Quincy a lot of time alone with his thoughts. Was Kanika actually holding Malukali prisoner, as Zachariah reasoned? It did seem to make sense that a threat to his wife would prompt the Wymzesti elder to act so out of character. Adding to this theory was the fact that Uriel was apparently no longer receiving check-ins from lieutenant Donald and his team stationed out at the Mercesti leader’s home.
Quincy found this fact particularly alarming. Sophia was following Knorbis, Tate and Ariana into a very dangerous situation. If she tried to intervene to save Tate and Ariana, which he was sure she would do, she could end up hurt or—
No. He wouldn’t go there.
They stopped traveling again as darkness fell. They were only a matter of hours from Kanika’s and it was hard not to push everyone to continue. But Quincy knew better than anyone how important the restorative rest between flights was in the long-run, so he restrained himself. They ended up in a small, grass-covered valley without much along the lines of cover, which told Quincy they wouldn’t be staying long. That suited him perfectly.
Before he had even taken his satchel off to stretch, he noticed Ini-herit pause and tilt his head as if listening to someone. His silver eyes flashed. Hoping that Uriel was conveying that he, Zachariah and Tiege had caught up with Tate and Ariana, he hurried over to his elder. Clara Kate moved up beside him to await the news.
After a moment, Ini-herit blinked and turned his emotionless gaze to them. “Tate and Ariana have been brought to Eirik.”
Clara Kate stiffened and drew a sharp breath. Quincy felt as though his heart flipped over in his chest. “What about Sophia?” he managed to ask. “Have they found her?”
Ini-herit glanced at Clara Kate and then focused on Quincy. “They have not, despite Uriel sending his fastest scouts after her. Those scouts have nearly reached Kanika’s, but they have not found any sign of Sophia. It appears that she has vanished.”
Quincy stared stupidly at his elder, unable to process what he’d just heard.
“We will have to change course and join the others in convincing Hoygul to turn over the map to the library,” Ini-herit continued.
“You’re going to abandon the search for Sophia?” Quincy asked. The words felt as though they sliced his throat as he spoke them.
“We must,” Ini-herit replied. “The only hope for all Estilorians is that we acquire that scroll piece before Eirik does.”
ALIGN
Align [
v
.
uh
-lahyn]: To fall or come into a line; to bring into cooperation or agreement with a particular group, party, cause, etc.
Sophia wanted to leave immediately for Hoygul’s home, but Derian refused. He intended to lead her to the Scultresti himself and had to make a few arrangements before he did. She had little choice but to wait.
Despite her fear over the uncertain path ahead of her, she could admit to being awed by the Mercesti encampment. It was deceptively large, housing several hundred Mercesti, and was built entirely among gigantic medeina trees above the waters of the swamp. Sturdy woven vines served as bridges, connecting the dwellings. Stairs curved around the outsides of some of the tree trunks, leading from homes in the upper levels to those closer to the bottom.
Only medeina trees, specially crafted by the Scultresti, could maintain their structural integrity while having multiple homes carved out of them. Sophia found the design of the encampment both fascinating and beautiful.
“How long has this been here?” she asked Melanthe. The female Mercesti had taken the lead in giving her a brief tour after serving Sophia breakfast.
“Oh, for well over a century,” Melanthe replied. “We have kept it very quiet and well-protected, as I am sure you can appreciate.”
“Sure.”
It was really no different from her own protected homeland, Sophia mused. They passed what appeared to be a dwelling containing a variety of foods. Several Mercesti walked through the dwelling carrying baskets, which they filled with food and then brought to a wooden counter manned by a female.
“What is this place?”
“Our food larder,” Melanthe explained. “There are only a handful of us with the ability to generate food, but many mouths to feed. We stockpile what food we can to ensure everyone has something to eat when they are hungry. We supplement by hunting and gardening.”
“I see,” Sophia said. She remembered learning that because Mercesti lost some or all of their previous class’s abilities upon converting, there weren’t many who could create food, clothing and shelter. And since converted Mercesti lost their pairings with Lekwuesti, they couldn’t get their hospitality needs met that way. “Well, it sounds like you’ve developed a great community here.”
“Thank you, Sophia.” Melanthe nodded a greeting to a passing female as she continued, “We have had our struggles. Derian is not comfortable wearing the mantle of responsibility that comes of seeing to everyone’s welfare, but he has little choice.” It appeared she intended to say more, but reconsidered. Smiling, she said, “I know you are anxious to continue on your journey. I believe that Derian has finished making all of the arrangements, so we might as well get started.”
“We? You’re coming along?”
“Of course. I cannot let Derian go off without me to rein him in. Believe me when I say that would not be in the best interests of anyone.”
Normally, Sophia would have minded her own business, especially with a virtual stranger. But Melanthe was so kind and open that she found herself asking, “Are you and Derian, um, together?”
“We are mates,” Melanthe confirmed as they turned onto a bridge leading to the largest dwelling within the encampment. “And now you are probably wondering why I would love such a cantankerous male.”
Sophia thought of her cousin and Zachariah. “No, not at all. Although…”
“Yes?”
“Well, I have been wondering how it is you experience emotions.”
“Ah.” Melanthe nodded. “I understand. Well, some of us experience more emotion than others, as is true for all Estilorians. Not all of us have been within the encampment for a very long time. There are some who only just found us. Many of those who have entered our circle over the past eighteen years were exposed to the daughters of Saraqael and came to us with an understanding of human emotions.”
That made sense. Sophia knew that one of the primary focuses of her mother and aunts after the defeat of Grolkinei had been to spend as much time as they could among the Estilorians. Although the homeland was their primary base, they all traveled frequently to Central and to various places on the mainland, visiting with all of the classes and trying to help impart human emotions to as many as possible. Once their children came along, they rotated who traveled so that the children were always cared for, but they still continued their efforts.
They reached their destination before Sophia could consider this further. Melanthe opened the door and held it so Sophia could enter first.
It was some kind of gathering space, she realized as she entered and saw the large number of beings inside. There were several separate seating areas around the room comprised of an eclectic mix of couches, chairs and tables. A fire pit in the center of the space housed flickering red flames, telling Sophia that they were generated by energy and not true fire. As they were in the middle of a tree, she imagined a real fire would have been disastrous.
Only when Melanthe joined her did Sophia catch on to the fact that the room had gotten very quiet. Everyone stared at her.
Bringing a hand to her head, she checked her hair to make sure it wasn’t somehow standing on end. Melanthe and Oria had pulled her hair back at the temples and created a series of small braids woven with blue-green and gold threads, pinning them at the crown of her head and leaving the rest of her hair down. It felt like it was still in place.
“Do not mind them,” Melanthe said. “They are just unused to seeing non-Mercesti here.”
Sophia knew none of them had ever met a Kynzesti. Not sure what to do or say, she just followed Melanthe’s lead and walked through the room toward the back without meeting anyone’s gaze.
They headed for a closed door. When they reached it, Melanthe placed her hand on it and waited. A moment later, there was a distinct “snick” and the door opened.
“Follow me,” she said.
Curious despite her itch to speed things up and get out of there, Sophia walked through the door to find herself at the top of a spiraling staircase. Even as she stepped onto the first stair, the door closed on its own behind her. She followed Melanthe down, gaping at the elaborate carvings decorating the inside of the tree trunk as they descended. She hadn’t ever seen anything so beautiful. Her younger sister, Leigh, the artist in the family, would be beside herself.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they walked through another doorway. This one led to a windowless room only about half the size of the one above it. Sophia detected a moist feel to the air, as well as the noticeable scent of damp wood. The room contained one large, round table in the middle with stools all around it. Each piece of furniture emerged from the ground in a way that made Sophia believe the room had been carved around them.
Around the table sat Derian, Verrell, Cleve, Oria, Alys and at least twenty other Mercesti. Sophia realized they were all garbed for battle. Their armor ranged from pieces made of thick leather to the highly complicated, lightweight armor that only very skilled Lekwuesti could generate. She tried not to gape as they all turned to look at her. She had somehow managed to inherit her own personal army.
“Have ye changed yer mind about fillin’ us in on yer little adventure, Kynzesti?” Derian asked. “It would be helpful not to go into this blind.”
What should she tell them? It would be plain stupid to mention the Elder Scroll. The artifact was far too much temptation for most Estilorians. But she didn’t want them to be unprepared.
“Please take a seat, Sophia,” Melanthe said when she hesitated, taking her by her elbow to gently guide her to a stool.
Comforted by the fact that Melanthe sat beside her, Sophia began, “The elders are attempting to recover an artifact. That same artifact is being pursued by a Mercesti named Eirik.”
Looks and murmurs circulated around the table. Sophia realized that they knew who Eirik was. She had a moment of sheer panic as she wondered if they might be his allies. After all, she knew next to nothing about these Mercesti outside of the fact that they were treating her well.
Verrell quickly put her fears to rest. “A right bastard,” he spat, making a gesture with this hand to punctuate the remark. “Greedy and power-hungry.”
Derian nodded. “Whatever Eirik seeks is surely nothin’ he should have.”
Relieved, Sophia said, “You couldn’t be more right about that. He’s been looking for it for quite some time. He’s already got part of it, and he’s figured out he needs more for it to be complete. It would be detrimental to all of us if he acquires it.”
“And Hoygul has the key to this artifact?” Alys asked.
“In part,” Sophia replied. “Let’s just say that Hoygul can get me to part of the artifact, and if I can procure to it and get it safely to the elders, Eirik will be unable to fulfill his plans.”
“Reason enough for me to play armed escort for a Kynzesti,” Verrell said.
There were nods and words of agreement from the others. Sophia looked at Derian. He stared back at her. She couldn’t read his expression at all and she once again found herself comparing him to Zachariah. If Tate had never paired with Zachariah, would Sophia have ever believed that this kind of commitment by the Mercesti was possible? She doubted it. She would probably have done the cheetah thing and fled.