Fireweaver Page 14

  "We don't know about him because he lives far to the north."

  "But it's too cold that far north."

  "Not for a god, apparently."

  "But there's no way we could ever travel there," Faina said.

  "I know."

  "I still don't think I understand all this. It always made sense to me that Halarik would have weakened the sun out of jealousy. If this Vardin figure truly is both Sunweaver and Fireweaver, then why would he have weakened the sun?"

  Alvin tapped his fingers on the polished wooden desk in front of him. "I wish I had an answer for you, but the texts are unclear about motivations."

  "How do you know these texts are telling the truth at all?"

  "I don't, but it feels more right to me than the official version of history."

  Faina wasn't sure about that, but she knew she would get no more answers. Right now, her head was spinning with all this new information. She didn't know how any of it would help the situation in Tarileth, but she was glad that Alvin trusted her enough to reveal all this new information to her. However, she would need some time to digest it all.

  "How did you learn all this?" she asked. "How did you come across this information? If this information is so highly protected, how could the Church let it fall into your hands?"

  Alvin smiled. "They didn't let anything happen. I made it happen. Let's just say you and I aren't so dissimilar. I grew up in a world much like yours. I learned the art of secrecy. Once I joined the Church, I took advantage of every opportunity I could find to venture beneath the temple and discover its secrets. Normally, the Sun Guard protects these passageways, but they aren't perfect. If you're talented enough you can get past them."

  "I think I could learn a few things from you."

  "Perhaps," Alvin said, smiling again.

  Faina couldn't banish the thought that there was much more to Alvin than he was telling her.

  * * * * *

  Deril was on his way back home from the Sunweaver Council when he sensed that someone was following him. He turned around but didn't see the person. Still, as he walked, the skin on the back of his neck prickled. He kept glancing back.

  Nothing.

  Perhaps he was being paranoid. He had just agreed to help Jarek take down the Church. That was a major commitment, and a dangerous one. If the Church found out about it, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him. He already suspected he was on thin ice with them.

  The Sunweaver Council was far at the other side of the city from the temple of Aralea. Deril hadn't taken a wagon there because he preferred to walk. Besides, the streets of Hyrandel were often too crowded to make a wagon practical. His father would tell him he should always take a wagon and Sun Guards, but he was confident in his abilities.

  Perhaps too confident.

  The council meeting had gone a long time, and night had fallen, but the city's Sunlamps kept the main streets bright enough that Deril would normally feel safe. Only a few people were out and about, however. None of them appeared suspicious, but he couldn't be sure.

  With every step he took, he felt that presence behind him. Staring into the darkness, he still couldn't see anyone or anything, but he knew he was being followed. A feeling this persistent couldn't be simple paranoia.

  He wove Yellow and Blue, forming a shield. It felt a bit foolish, but he had to be careful. Maybe his father was right and Deril should bring Sun Guards with him. But he couldn't think of Sun Guards without his thoughts drifting to Tiran. Deril still expected to see Tiran standing guard somewhere in the temple. It was hard for Deril to accept that his closest friend was dead.

  A black-clad figure approached from Deril's left, moving with alarming speed. The man's face was covered, and he moved with predatory grace. An assassin.

  Did Teravin already want Deril dead?

  An arrow came from Deril's right, hitting his shield, which deflected the trajectory just enough that it missed Deril. He still felt someone's presence behind him, but he had no time to turn and look. He had to take the path straight ahead.

  Heart pounding, he sprinted across the street and ducked into an alley devoid of Sunlamps. His pursuers followed, their steps almost silent against the cobblestone streets. He sprinted through the alley as more arrows whizzed by him. His shield would not necessarily deflect all of them. If his pursuers got close enough, the momentum of the arrows would be too much for his shield. He had to change his tactics, perhaps fight back.

  Keeping his Yellow/Blue weave going, he faced his attackers. Both of them rushed into the alley, aiming their bows at him. Their arrows flew at the same time. He ducked instinctively, and the arrows sailed over his head, deflected by his shield again.

  While the assassins nocked their next arrows, Deril let his shield drop and wove Red and Orange, sending a wave of fire at them. The weave was just fast enough. It didn't reach them, but it distracted them enough that they couldn't loose another volley of arrows.

  Deril spotted a ladder leading up the side of a building. He hopped onto the ladder, weaving Yellow and Blue again. The light of his fiery weave illuminated the alley. Deril prayed it would attract Sun Guards. He didn't think he could defeat the assassins on his own.

  His hands and feet nearly slipped a few times as he climbed the ladder, reaching a height of at least thirty feet. At the top, he hopped off the ladder, rolling as he hit the flat roof. The assassins were behind him, scaling the ladder with ease.

  Deril was going to use his sword to slash at them as they reached the top of the ladder, but then he felt footsteps approaching from behind. A third assassin must have found another way to reach the rooftop. Deril turned moments before the assassin would have slit his throat. The man's attack missed, and Deril spun around, raising his sword to meet the assassin's next attack. The assassin had two daggers, though, and was very quick in the way he used them. It took all of Deril's concentration to deflect the man's attacks.

  Now the other two assassins had reached the roof, but since Deril was engaged with their comrade, performing an intricate dance, they couldn't get a clear shot at him with their bows. In the midst of the battle, Deril didn't have the time to perform a weave.

  A casting would come quicker, though. He cast Orange, sending it at his opponent. The pain inflicted by the casting caught the assassin off guard. He recoiled from it, giving Deril an opportunity to plunge his sword through the man's chest.

  Deril pulled the sword out, turning to face his other attacker, and wove a shield just in time to deflect the next volley of arrows. Now the two assassins rushed toward him, brandishing daggers like the man Deril had just defeated.

  Deril couldn't handle two of them at once, so he took off running, keeping his shield in place. He could already feel his Yellow and Blue reserves dwindling, and since it was nighttime, he couldn't rely on the sun to replenish them. He had to escape these assassins quickly.

  Heart pounding, he sprinted across the rooftop. At the other end of the rooftop, he launched himself into the air. It wasn’t the most graceful of jumps, but he sailed across the alley, reaching the rooftop of the next building. However, the assassins were just as skilled. They landed on the next rooftop with ease and began to close the distance between themselves and Deril. He had to come up with a different tactic.

  The assassins had abandoned their bows. Perhaps they had run out of arrows, or perhaps they'd decided that strategy wouldn't yield the results they wanted.

  Deril could take advantage of that. As they sprinted toward him, daggers in hand, he wove Yellow and Green, directing his weave at the rooftop beneath them. The stone began to rumble, and a hole appeared directly in front of the assassins. They tried to stop, but their momentum carried them over the edge.

  Screams came from inside the building. Deril felt bad for whatever family he'd disturbed, but he couldn't worry about them right now. He'd have to pray the assassins would care more about him than the family whose lives they'd interrupted.

  The rumbling continued, and Deril's st
omach lurched. He raced across the rooftop, trying to reach the next building before the entire roof caved in.

  He wasn't fast enough.

  The ground gave way beneath him. He groped blindly but couldn't find anything to grab, and so he fell into the room below. Thankfully, he didn't see the assassins. Nor did he see an innocent family. He navigated the room, placing his feet carefully to miss all the large chunks of the roof that now littered the floor.

  At the far end of the room, there was a glass-paned window. He found the lock on the window and pulled it open, chuckling silently. He'd just destroyed the roof of this house, and he was worried about breaking their window.

  After a quick glance back to check for the assassins, he jumped through the window. The drop to the street below was at least twenty feet, so he wove Yellow and Blue as he plummeted. When he hit the ground, the impact was only a little jarring.

  Then he glanced back and saw the assassins again. He took off running in the only direction he could, and soon he found himself facing a dead end.

  The assassins were perhaps fifty feet away, and the street was too narrow for him to slip past them. He had to fight them, but he had no idea how he could defeat two of them. Perhaps he could try some Sunweaving. It was the only hope he had.

  He wove Red and Yellow, sending a burst of lightning at them. The weave crackled in the air, filling their surroundings with a yellow glow. When it reached the assassins, though, it was deflected by their shields. Damn. Deril should have known it wouldn't be enough.

  These men were professional killers. What chance did he have against them?

  The lightning had delayed them, however, and they still did not have their bows. Deril turned toward the stone wall against which he was trapped and sent a weave of Yellow and Green at it. The force of the weave surprised Deril, and the wall crumbled away, revealing a hole he could slip through. He entered what looked like a warehouse of some kind.

  Crates towered from floor to ceiling, forming a confusing maze. Deril didn't know which direction to go, so he picked one at random. His breath came in sharp gasps, and sweat poured down his face despite the chill in the air.

  The assassins crashed into the room behind him, no longer taking any care to disguise their footsteps. Crates flashed by him. He turned left, then right, then left again. The farther he ran, the more lost he felt. He had no idea where the exit was.

  Then he reached another dead end. Crates stood in front of him, to his right, and to his left, reaching more than fifteen feet into the air. The assassins' pounding footsteps were growing closer and closer. Soon they rounded the nearest corner. They approached with their daggers, backing him against the crates. How was he going to escape this time?

  He wove Yellow and Blue moments before the assassins sent their own weave at him. The fire surged toward him, enveloping his shield. It also struck the crates, which caught fire. The crates must have contained something highly flammable because a great explosion rocked the warehouse. Deril flew through the air, maintaining his shield as flames surged all around him.

  When he struck the ground, the impact knocked the wind out of him. Struggling to catch his breath, he hopped to his feet. Flames still surged everywhere. He could feel the heat through his shield, and his Yellow and Blue reserves wouldn't last much longer.

  He sprinted through the flames, heedless of the assassins' locations. Engulfed in flames, the warehouse had become a much more terrifying maze. Smoke obscured Deril's vision, and more explosions occurred throughout the chamber. Deril prayed the assassins had been trapped in one of the explosions. He couldn't see them anywhere through all the smoke.

  Then, at last, the smoke cleared enough that he could see a stone door ahead. He pushed through the door, emerging in the store itself. It looked to be the kind of store that sold supplies of all kinds. Deril had no idea what had exploded in the warehouse, but he didn't care. It had saved his life, at least for the moment.

  A man stood in the room, watching him with wide eyes. "What in the Core is going on in there? What did you do to my wares?"

  "Get out of here!" Deril shouted. "There are assassins back there. They're trying to kill me."

  Deril sprinted toward the shop's front door.

  "You can't just leave!" the shopkeeper shouted.

  Deril ignored him, bursting out onto the street. It took him a moment to get his bearings, but then he realized where he was. He was only a couple of streets away from one of the city's main Sun Guard garrisons. If he could reach the garrison, he'd be safe.

  He sprinted through the streets, glancing back every few seconds, looking for the assassins. Though he didn't see them, he couldn't relax. They were back there somewhere, looking for him, and there would surely be more of them.

  At last, the Sun Guard garrison came into view. Deril raced to the door, then flew through it, sweat dripping into his eyes. A couple of Sun Guards were sitting at a stone table on the other side of the room. As soon as Deril entered, they jumped to their feet.

  "What are you doing here?" one asked, a little alarmed. "Do you need help?"

  The other's eyes widened. "Deril?"

  Deril recognized the man as a former guard in the temple, someone Tiran had liked. "Yes, it's me. There are assassins following me. I need some protection."

  "We'll wake the rest of the garrison," said the first Sun Guard.

  Deril slumped into a nearby chair, more exhausted than he'd felt in a long time. At least he was safe now, though he wasn't sure how long that would last.

  Chapter 21: The Sardek Empire

  Rella's eyes came slowly open. She was wrapped in thick blankets, the warmth of Sunlamps washing over her. After blinking a few times, she surveyed the room in which she was lying down. It was a stone room, devoid of ornamentation, but it wasn't a prison.

  More importantly, she wasn't dead.

  She glanced to her right to see Kae in the bed beside her. Talin occupied the bed to her left. When he noticed her gaze, he said, "I'm glad to see you awake."

  "Where are we?" she asked, enjoying the warmth of the blankets.

  "We are in the garrison of the Border Guard."

  Her stomach churned. "Then we're prisoners, aren't we?"

  "I'm afraid so. They fished us out of the water. We were all on the brink of death."

  "Why would they do that?"

  To Rella's right, Kae cleared her throat. "They didn't say much, but I got the impression that someone paid them well. Why else would they have helped us?"

  "Who would do that?" Rella asked. It could have been Karik. He'd helped her once before. Maybe he had helped her again. But why would he take that risk when Rella, Kae, and Talin were determined to stop Atarin's plans?

  "I don't know," Kae said. "We have no friends here."

  "If they pulled us out of the water," Rella said, "then I suppose they aren't going to execute us. After all, they could have let the water have us."

  Talin sat up in bed. "That seems a safe assumption to make."

  Rella glanced toward the door at the far end of the room. "Have you checked if it's locked?"

  "It is," Talin said.

  Rella's heart sank. "Has anyone come to visit us?"

  "A healer did visit," Talin said. "She spent most of her time with you. You were almost gone. For a while there, I was sure you wouldn't make it."

  Rella pulled her blankets tighter, relishing in the warmth. "I feel weak now, but I think I'll be all right. I just want to know what's going to happen to us."

  There were no answers for her. After perhaps a minute of silence, the door opened. A man wearing a dark uniform stepped through. He had sharp facial features and wore a neatly groomed beard. His steps rang with authority as he crossed the room.

  "Good," he said. "You are all awake." He had a faint accent that made his words sound a bit more musical than she heard back home. Tarileth and the Sardek Empire spoke different languages, but nearly everyone in the Sardek Empire learned Tarilethi. Similarly, most people in T
arileth knew the Sardeki language.

  "What are your plans for us?" Talin asked. Rella appreciated his direct approach.

  "I think we should do introductions first," the man said. "I am Commander Radus of the Border Guard. You three are Fireweavers who have tried to enter our nation illegally." He smiled. "I believe you're aware of the normal consequences for such actions."

  Talin nodded.

  "Before we decide on anything, I'd like to hear what you have to say for yourselves." He took a seat in a chair across the room. "First of all, why are you here?"

  Rella shared anxious glances with Kae and Talin. Should they reveal their reasons for being here? There was no telling if Commander Radus was working with Atarin. But if they didn't give him good enough answers, they'd face execution.

  Talin set his firm gaze on the commander. "We are here to stop a plot that could endanger the entire world. A plot to free Halarik from his prison."

  Commander Radus stroked his beard. "Interesting. Go on."

  Rella couldn't determine anything from the commander's expression. She worried that Talin had already revealed too much, but they had little choice.

  "Are you familiar with Firelord Atarin?" Talin asked.

  "I've heard the name." Again, the commander's expression revealed nothing.

  Talin hesitated. "Well, he's trying to free Halarik. He already tried once, and we stopped him. Now he's using a different tactic. He seeks the Lost Weaves. He believes one of them can free Halarik from the Realm of Shade."

  "Interesting," said the commander.

  Rella was growing irritated. "Is that all you have to say?"

  "Be careful about what you say," the commander replied. "Your fate is in my hands."

  Rella frowned at him. "But why would you save us from the water if you intend to kill us anyways?"

  "What you did is something I've never seen before in my twenty years of service. Most people hide somewhere aboard their ships, and when we find them, they accept it and stay on the ships. But you three were obviously more desperate to reach our shores." He shook his head slowly. "I can't imagine how cold you must have been."