The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall (6 page)

For the first time, I could read Jeatar easily.

He was scared.

“He’s not after either of us,” he said evenly, his blue-gray eyes boring into mine. “This farm is where people who want to see him stripped of power are gathering. I knew we couldn’t stay a secret for long. Some secrets you can’t hide forever.”

Like his secret? Did he suspect I’d guessed? I could ask him right here, right now, and everyone would know who he was. Our resistance could finally have the leader it deserved, one who was strong enough to keep the aristocrats in line and get everyone working together.

But that would make Jeatar the biggest target in the Three Territories.

If the Duke knew he was behind the rebellions, he’d destroy every town he suspected Jeatar of being in, just like he’d destroyed Sorille.

I couldn’t put all those people at risk. Not until we were ready to fight.

“Is he going after Geveg?” I asked.

Jeatar let out a held breath and nodded. “That’s a reasonable guess. He’ll want to make Geveg an example, quell the other rebellions, and eliminate any support the aristocrats have gained.”

More guards came in and Jeatar turned away again.

If the Duke was going after Geveg, then the rumors about the Gov-Gen had to be true. Maybe all of them were. Geveg was fighting back, kicking out the Baseeri. Once they were gone, Gevegians would regain control of the pynvium mines, reclaim what was stolen from us.

The Duke would never allow that. He’d do anything to keep those mines, keep the pynvium. Even destroy us.

And when he was through with Geveg, he might go after Verlatta. Then there’d be no safe place to run to in the Three Territories. There wouldn’t even
be
a Three Territories anymore. I tried not to picture it, but the images came anyway. Flaming pitch arcing through the air, splattering against roofs and buildings, fire spreading through the city.

Geveg might not even know the Duke was coming. Someone had to warn them.

Someone like us.

Which meant abandoning Tali again. Stopping my search for her.
If you stop the Duke, you can get her back for sure.
The odds of that were just as slim as finding her with no idea where to look. But Tali was probably with his army, and his army was headed to Geveg.

“We have to tell Geveg they’re in danger,” I said to Danello and Aylin. “They can’t possibly know the Duke is coming.”

Aylin gaped at me. “You want to go home
now
?”

“She’s right, we have to,” Danello said. “The more time they have to prepare, the better chance they’ll have of defending the city.”

She hesitated, lips tight, then she nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell Quenji. Knowing him, he’ll love the idea of running into certain death.”

“Are you going to tell Jeatar?” Danello whispered.

I glanced over at him, deep in conversation with his soldiers. “I’ll tell him before we leave. He has more important things to worry about right now.”

“I want to go with you,” said Lanelle, cornering me in the dry-goods storeroom.

“Go with me where?” I’d been running around like everyone else on the farm, gathering supplies. I’d sent Quenji after a horse and wagon, since he was the most likely person to actually find one. I did warn him against stealing it from someone who needed one, though.

“To Geveg.”

I nearly dropped a bag of goat jerky. “You do know it’s about to be invaded?”

“They’ll need Healers.”

Even ones who’d betrayed them? Maybe Lanelle saw this as her chance to redeem herself.

“I’m sorry, but—”

“Please, Nya.” She grabbed my free hand. I fought the urge to yank it away. “I can help, I really can. I know people, and I know things about the League you don’t. The Elders talked around me, even about things they shouldn’t have.”

Because she’d helped them. But she did have a point.

“You’re not going to get over there and join the other side?”

She actually looked hurt. “No, swear to Saint Erlice I won’t. Baseeri lie—I know that now.”

Not all of them, but it was a step over the right bridge.

“Please, Nya?”

I sighed. Aylin was going to kill me. “Okay, you can come.”

The heat from the forge wrapped around me as soon as I turned the corner. Hammer strikes of metal on metal rang out, mixed with duller thuds and some impressive swearing. I still hadn’t come up with a story as to why I needed pynvium, but since I’d stolen it in the first place, I figured some of it was mine.

Smiths banged away, no doubt trying to get the last of something made before we had to leave. Weapons maybe, or tools. Maybe just metal ingots that would be easier to carry. Onderaan worked in one corner off to the side. I cringed. I’d really hoped he wouldn’t be here.

“Onderaan?”

He turned, frustration on his face. He seemed surprised to see me. “You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”

The forge was on the farm grounds, but it wasn’t connected to the house.

“I know but I, uh, needed some pynvium.”

“I think the weapons have already been packed, but I’ll see what’s here. There might be some pain-filled scraps left.”

“Any healing bricks?”

“Bricks? Why would you need—oh, Nya.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“Warn Geveg. I know it’s dangerous, but I—”

“You sound like your father.”

“I do?”

“Not the warning part,” he continued, “but the going-where-it’s-dangerous part. Going to
Geveg
where it’s dangerous, specifically.” He sighed and sat on a corner of the unfinished forge. “But you need to go, just like he needed to go.”

“He went to Geveg?” I’d always thought he’d been born there. I should have known that wasn’t true as soon as I’d learned he was Baseeri.

Onderaan nodded. “When he was nineteen. Our grandfather was governor then, and his ore finders had just discovered a huge pynvium vein in the mountains. Geveg needed enchanters to smelt it, and Peleven wanted to go help. I asked him not to leave, but he didn’t listen.”

“Why didn’t you want him to go?” Geveg was safe back then—no Baseeri soldiers on the streets, no Duke telling them what to do.

“It was a
lot
of pynvium. Mountains of it, and Verraad was already making a fuss out of claiming it for Baseer, trying to get his family to listen.”

Verraad. The Duke, before he was Duke. Was that when he first started thinking about killing his father and brothers?

“It made Bespaar nervous, and when
he
was nervous, our father was nervous. Bespaar knew too much about what his family argued over, how different their politics were. Your father should have been nervous too.”

“Who’s Bespaar?”

“The heir.”

I glanced around. The other smiths were out of earshot, the bellows and hammering drowning out anything we’d say.

“You mean Jeatar’s father?” It was a guess, a risk, but I needed to know who the man who should have been duke was.

Onderaan’s eyes widened. “Who told you?”

So it
was
true.

“No one. Jeatar has the Duke’s eyes and lots of money, and he keeps trying to help people without anyone knowing he’s doing it.” I’d figured that out not long after we’d left Baseer. “And I saw his burn scars when he pulled me out of the Luminary’s office. He was in Sorille when the Duke burned it, wasn’t he? Plus little things he’s said and done. It all filled the same bucket.”

Onderaan smiled at me the way Papa had when I’d done something well. “You have a way of seeing what no one else does.”

My face warmed and I looked away. It wasn’t anything special, just what you had to do to survive. “Does anyone else know?”

“Ouea. She’s been with his family since he was your age. A few others, loyal supporters of his father’s, but they’re all over the Territories now.”

“Causing rebellions?”

“Gathering support for when the time is right to move against the Duke.”

“But that’s
now
!”

He shook his head. “No, it isn’t. We have no army, no defensible base.”

“So we’ll tell everyone who Jeatar is and we’ll get their support. We build the army, we march back to Baseer and take over, save Tali, then free Geveg and Verlatta. It’s a good plan.”

Onderaan looked at me, a sad smile on his face. “Nya, that’s not a plan, it’s a wish.”

“Maybe not.”

We could do it. How hard could it be to raise an army? The Duke did it, and no one even
liked
him.

“Nya, one day we
will
stop the Duke, but not now.” Onderaan stood and looked around the room. “Let me get you what pynvium I can. No bricks, but I think there are some orbs left.”

“What about Jeatar?”

“I’ll tell him you’re leaving after you’ve gone. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll understand. Once we get the refugees settled in Veilig, I’ll come meet you in Geveg.”

“How will I find you?”

He paused. “Be in Analov Park at sunset in six days. Right under Grandpa’s statue.”

We decided to leave at night. The man who’d attacked me still hadn’t been found, and we agreed it was safer to travel when no one was watching. Quenji found a horse and wagon—which I suspected Onderaan had something to do with by the way the wagon was stocked—and had it tucked away at the edge of the woods down the road.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jovan asked. His twin brother, Bahari, had been the one asking all afternoon, but he’d given up. Or they were taking turns.

“Because it’s not safe,” Danello answered, same as he’d done all day. He hadn’t snapped, hadn’t yelled, hadn’t done any of the things I might have done if my little brothers had been pestering me for hours. “Stay with Ouea. She’ll take care of you until we’re done in Geveg.”

“And then you’ll come back for us?” Halima asked, twisting one blond braid around her finger.

“Promise.” He knelt and hugged her tight. “I’ll always come back for you.”

Was being able to say good-bye harder or easier than just losing someone? I didn’t know if I’d have had the strength to let Tali go, knowing I might not ever see her again.

“Find Da,” Bahari said, hugging him when Halima was done. “Bring him back with you.”

“I will, I promise.”

We all got hugs too, and Ouea herded the little ones back inside the house. I took Danello’s hand. It trembled, and he grabbed mine tighter.

“They’ll be okay, right?” he whispered.

“Safer than we’ll be. Ouea won’t let anything happen to them. And Quenji’s pack is staying, too, so Zee and Ceun will look after them as well.” So much more than Tali ever had.

He took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

“We’re all loaded up,” Quenji said, smiling from the driver’s bench of the wagon. “How far to Geveg?”

“Two or three days.”

He made a face. “Sounds boring.”

We climbed in the wagon and took seats on the wooden benches on both sides. Not the most comfortable ride to Geveg, but we’d manage.

Quenji snapped the reins, and we rumbled down the road, everyone quiet save for the occasional cough. I watched the farm fade away in the night, unable to shake the feeling I was leaving family behind.

W
e rolled into Dorpstaad, one of the few places in the marshes big enough to be called a town. It sat on the edge of the lake, with blue-reed marshes on one side and rich farmland on the other. Wasn’t much more than a few dozen trader posts, but it did have the ferry dock to Geveg Isles, a traveler’s house, and one coffeehouse—a welcome sight after two days on the road.

Beyond the buildings the lake sparkled, but Geveg was hazy, and thin tendrils of smoke curled above the rooftops. Fires.

“Jeatar did say they were rebelling.” Danello sounded calm, but he had to be worried about his father. “Doesn’t look too bad though. No worse than the riots a few months ago.”

It had to be worse than that if the Gov-Gen had been killed. But I knew hope when I heard it.

Quenji parked near the stables and arranged for a paddock and a place to store the wagon. It was too expensive to ferry them across, and there were few places to store them in Geveg if we did. Between what Quenji had no doubt stolen and what Danello had won from the soldiers playing cards, we could afford a few days’ keep.

I stretched my sore muscles. “Let’s find out when the next ferry is.”

The ferry dock was empty. Not even the usual beggars crouched by the pilings or resting under the mangrove trees. The ferry itself sat empty at its berth at the far end of the dock.

“Maybe it’s not running?” Aylin shielded her eyes with her hand and gazed over the water. It was flat today, barely any breeze to stir the surface.

“Or they’re not letting it dock at Geveg,” Danello said. “That’s the easiest way to keep people from leaving the city.”

“Or coming
into
the city,” I added.

This would be a problem. Without a boat, we weren’t getting into Geveg. A few fishing boats were docked at other berths, plus one skiff that looked fancy enough to belong to an aristocrat.

“If you know how to sail it, I can steal it,” Quenji said, following my stare.

I’d had enough of jails and cages for a while. Besides, we needed to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible. “Let’s see if someone is willing to take us across first.”

Lanelle snorted. “No one is going to risk their neck to help
us
.”

“Us, maybe,” said Aylin, “You, no.”

“Let’s look around.” I sighed. You’d think after two days of baiting each other they’d be tired of it.

We left the dock and headed for the main street. People were out and about, but the town lacked the usual bustle. No one was looking for work, and no day vendors had set up carts on the streets. It made sense if no one could get out of Geveg, but it was still eerie.

The scent of coffee lured us to the coffeehouse on the opposite side of the block, down near the traveler’s house.

“Anyone hungry?” Danello said.

My stomach rumbled. Breakfast had been a long time ago—and not much of it at that. “Sounds good. We might be able to find a fisherman there too and ask about paying him for passage.”

Aylin linked her arm through Quenji’s. “I haven’t had good Gevegian coffee in months, so let’s—”