Empire of Night

Chapter Fourteen

Fragile Oaths

Ayduin stormed out of the room without another word. Rhydian’s jaw clenched once. Twice. What else was he supposed to do, slit the girl’s throat and be done with it? Toss her off the mountain? Everything had happened so quickly, his mind had yet to recover, let alone process. One moment, he had only just realized the implications of what was happening to the young woman, the next, she was awake, eyes wide in unbridled terror with half the room in shambles.

Skies, the way she had looked at him, at all of them -

To her, they were the monsters. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Her reaction, genuine as it may have been, complicated things. If she was not in league with the woman, what was she doing so far into the Veil? Who was she? Simple as they were, his questions had clearly confused her and what answers she did have made no sense. Was it possible she was from some land beyond the Veil? Or . . .did she somehow reside within it?

He supposed it would explain some of the peculiarities, though again, the truth of it all raised more questions than it answered. He needed time to gather his thoughts and to put out one fire before he started another. Or at least manage said fire, in Ayduin’s case. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to their conversation. Nor any conversation, really. He simply wanted all of this to go away.

After the girl’s display, he could not deny what she was. Ayduin was right, he had brought another one of those things into their own home. Unwittingly, perhaps, but it did not change the fact. The woman was dangerous and weak as she might be in her current state, she could still pose a threat to those of Mistwatch. While she had made no move against them yet, it didn’t mean she would not in the future. The logical side of Rhydian saw keeping her alive at all as a liability and yet his foolish heart stayed his hand.

There was still much he could learn from her, he decided, even if it wasn’t in relation to their mystery woman. He couldn’t fathom how anyone could survive the Veil on their own, let alone live within it, but he intended to find out. Command would have to be notified, perhaps an investigation launched. If there were truly a community dwelling in such a seemingly inhospitable place, it would reframe current knowledge of the Veil and perhaps even provide insight in how to one day be rid of it. Or at the very least, how to properly treat or eradicate the Blight.

The nature of her transformation was another matter. Whatever was happening to her wasn’t natural and certainly wasn’t the Blight. It had come from her and truth be told, it frightened him. The affliction was clearly transferable and through bite or blood, if he were to hazard a guess. Perhaps it had something to do with the dead woman’s fangs, in particular. When she had attacked the others, it had only ever been with claw. Whatever the case, Rhydian was no sage and may as well have been blundering around in the dark for all the good dwelling on the subject would do him.

For now, the best thing he could do was keep the girl bound and away from others, limit her interactions. What had transpired moments ago would have to be added to the ever growing list of events needed to be kept quiet. Curse it, this entire situation was growing out of hand. Once he settled one escalation, two more cropped up. As it was, he had made more oaths in the span of a few days than he had in his entire life. He’d likely make a dozen more by the time this was all said and done.

He looked to the sages, his lips thin. While he was inclined to trust Sorisanna regardless of an oath, he would require another from both she and Vesryn. He had the sense the latter was already beginning to regret the first he had made. The older sage stood at the far end of the room, nearest the door with as much distance as he could place between he and the girl as he could without going through it. As it was, his gaze flitted as though debating whether or not to bolt. If Rhydian did not act, the man might be inclined to raise the alarm, or worse. He sensed the slight disconnect in the man’s Soul, the growing disarray of essence and rysk alike.

“Close the door, Vesryn,” he said, voice low.

The man gave a start, the command snapping him out of whatever thought he’d been spiraling down. He fidgeted, hand hesitating when it reached for the handle. Rhydian flared his rysk in subtle warning and the man stiffened.

“Apologies, ser,” he said, weight shifting back into his heels as he reluctantly closed the door.

“No one speaks a word of this to anyone outside this room,” he said, “What you witnessed will not be discussed amongst each other or Ayduin unless I am the first to engage the subject, are we clear?”

Sorisanna was the first to speak and offer her oath before Rhydian could request it of her. It tugged at his soul like a thread of spider silk, settling between them and chasing gooseflesh along his spine. Vesryn, on the other hand, eyed him. His gaze flickered from Rhydian, to the girl, then back again in some apparent deliberation. As he did, Rhydian found his hand straying toward his blade, rysk instinctively condensing into a martial technique.

“Swear it,” Rhydian said, attention fixed, voice too quiet.

They stared at one another for a long moment and Rhydian held his breath. Harming the man in any capacity was the last thing he wanted, but he would. The realization startled him, yet he did not allow it to show through in his expression. Anyone else drawn into this mess, inadvertently or otherwise, would be in danger. In more ways than one, he imagined, for silencing an entire keep would likely be deemed necessary by those he suspected had sent those First Wing members in the first place.

Mistwatch was remote, lightly manned and located near an easy excuse. Their deaths would likely be blamed on an unfortunate Blight outbreak. No one would challenge the cause. No one would witness the truth. Sweeping the entire flight under the rug for the sake of secrecy would be all too easy. His own life was likely forfeit already, as was Vesryn’s, but Rhydian refused to drag anyone else down with them.

Something hardened in the man’s expression, his Soul reunifying.

“On my Soul, I swear never to speak about what I’ve witnessed here today with anyone beyond this room, including your second in command, Ayduin ne’Vaelor. I shall not discuss the matter among any of you unless you, Rhydian ne’Tanuzet, engage the subject first,” he said, though his words were clipped and edged in thinly veiled disdain.

It satisfied their pact nonetheless.

“Good. You’re dismissed,” Rhydian said.

Vesryn said nothing as he glared and took his leave.

Rhydian slowly breathed out, releasing his rysk. He felt heavy, his nerve stretched too thin, and stared at the door longer than he should have.

“I wouldn’t take it personally,” Sorisanna offered, “He’s just a little spooked. I think we all are.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed, easing some of the tension from his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Inerys said, voice faint, “for the trouble.”

The girl wavered where she sat, eyes fighting to stay open, blood staining her hands, her shift, her hair. Skies, she was half dead already. Rhydian found it difficult to reconcile the brutalized woman before him with the monster he knew lurked beneath. A part of him hesitated to draw any closer, lest she lunge for his throat next. It was a cruel thought, but not one that was completely unfounded.

“Can you walk?” He asked, doing his best not to linger on the horrid burn scar along her shoulder.

Sorisanna’s lips parted to protest, but Inerys was already attempting to climb to her feet, using the bed for support regardless of her bindings. Her arms trembled with the effort, breath turning laborious. Rhydian took a step forward, then stopped himself. If she attacked while he was close, he wasn’t sure he would have the reaction time, nor the strength to stop her. By offering aid, he was giving her the perfect opening. Inwardly, he cursed himself. If he didn’t help, Sorisanna would. Sages were a notoriously stubborn sort, but the wyvernsage was in a class all her own.

Keep the halls clear, he said to Tanuzet, who had been silently monitoring the conversation through their active connection.

Already done, she said.

He sensed her nearby, casually blocking the main entrance to the hall outside as she lay before it.

Did Ayduin do as I asked? He wondered.

Yes, though she does not look pleased.

I can’t imagine she does. I’ll be there soon. Summon Cydan, if you would. I’m not keen on leaving Sorisanna alone with this . . . with Inerys, he said.

He sensed her disapproval, but she said, Very well.

Steeling himself, he took to one knee beside the young woman.

“Here, let me. You’re in no shape,” he said, soothing his voice as not to frighten her more than he already had.

She shied away from him, bloodshot eyes wary.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he assured, “I’m only trying to make sense of all this. I believe you may be able to help, but I need you safe and comfortable first.”

The woman considered, bound hands fidgeting.

“How far would I have to walk?” She asked.

“How far do you think you can make it?”

She grimaced. “Not far.”

“There are rooms without quite so much light down the hall,” Sorisanna added, “and beds that are not so easily broken.”

“Did I . . . Was the bed really my doing?” She asked.

The wyvernsage reluctantly nodded. “The wall too. You’ve done quite a number on your current accommodations.”

Inerys grimaced. “What’s happening to me?”

“In truth? We’re not entirely sure,” Rhydian admitted, “but we intend to find out. I’m sure Sorisanna would like a chance to assess you herself.”

“We can start over tea and a sturdy bed,” she said with one of those easy, disarming smiles of hers.

“Tea sounds nice,” the young woman murmured, then reluctantly nodded to Rhydian, “all right.”

Returning it, he cautiously gathered her into his arms. She stiffened, at first, squirming like some disgruntled feline. He tensed, half expecting a fight. His spiritual channels constricted, readying his rysk. Had he truly been foolish enough to offer up his own throat? The girl fell still and when he found her staring up at him, eyes wide, shame swept in to replace his anticipation. He was a Talhavar, not some frightened cadet. It was time he acted accordingly.

He forced his core to relax, then rose.

“After you,” he said to Sorisanna, who swung the door wide for his passage.

As he expected, the halls were empty. Tanuzet could be seen at the far end, her long body stretched across the entrance. Rhydian breathed a short sigh of relief and followed the wyvernsage down the opposite direction. Light as she was, the young woman was dreadfully warm even by the standards of the Nar’Adai. Was it her fever? Or the fracturing? Either way, there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do now was leave her in Sorisanna’s hands.

The room she directed him into was larger than the previous with an attached bathing room and a window that rarely received direct sunlight, given its position along the mountain. He would still see to drawing the curtains. He hadn’t forgotten how the woman had burned. He had made note of it as well, should he ever need another way to subdue her in the future.

Setting her upon the bed, he quickly drew away, relieved to be away from those emerging fangs. Inerys seemed to share the sentiment, for she’d shuffled into the center of the bed almost immediately. The movement was made awkward by her bound wrists, but she’d made do. Rhydian debated removing them, though drew his attention to the door when Cydan arrived, his brow set, lips thin as he studied the girl.

“Cydan,” Rhydian said quietly, gesturing toward the hall, “a moment?”

“Of course, ser,” he said, backing out the door.

Rhydian spared the women a quick glance before following.

“How long has she been awake? Cydan asked.

“Not long,” Rhydian admitted, “I’ll fill you in later, but for now, I need you to keep an eye on her and keep Sorisanna safe. It’s complicated, but she’s similar to that thing we killed out in the Veil. She’s weak and hasn’t attacked yet, but keep your guard up. Her wrists are bound and I’d like to keep them that way until I return.”

He hesitated for a moment and Rhydian couldn’t entirely blame him.

“Understood, ser.”

“If the worst happens, send for me. Restrain the girl if you can. She’s stronger than she looks.”

“As strong as the first?” He asked.

“Not to the same degree, from what I can tell, but enough to likely challenge one of us.”

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Rhydian placed an appreciative hand upon Cydan’s shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

~*~

Inerys shrunk back against the headboard as she eyed the newcomer. He studied her with a similar wariness, as though she were some caged animal. To a degree, she supposed she was. With the door closed and not one, but two Adai present, she wasn’t going anywhere. She gently tugged at her restraints, earning a wave of nausea when the silvery metal bit into her skin. She wavered, dazed by the rapid onset. When she relaxed, so did the sensation. She shuddered, wondering what mist-cursed mind had conjured this awful metal to begin with.

“It’s silver,” the man offered, gesturing to her restraints, “nasty stuff. It sucks the strength right out of you.”

“I’d like it off,” she said quietly.

“You’ll have to take that up with the firstrider when he returns,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door, “I have orders.”

Orders.

Rhydian was clearly the one in charge, though she hadn’t the slightest idea what this man meant by firstrider.

He was well built, like Rhydian, though was clearly an Adai, like the sage currently busying herself across the room. The neat stubble along his face matched the auburn of his hair, which was worn in the same waist-length braid favored by Rhydian and Ayduin. She wondered, for a moment, if the fashion meant something of any significance. The sage wore hers in a braid as well , yet it was loose and relaxed by comparison with a few stray locks left to frame her face. The others seemed intent not to allow so much as a single strand out of place.

“Who are you?” she asked, rather discomforted by the lack of name to put to his face.

“I’m Cydan,” he said, looking her over, “and you?”

“Inerys,” she replied, trying to ignore the glow of her fingers. “Where am I, exactly?”

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and shared a glance with the sage who turned to offer Inerys a steaming mug that smelled of ginger and some other herb she couldn’t place. Hesitantly, she took it. There was a slight tremor to her hands, yet she managed to hold it well enough without spilling it.

“This will help with the pain,” Sorisanna said, stepping back. “As for where you are, I suppose that’s a bit of a story. This is Mistwatch.”

A story indeed and one everyone else seemed to be privy to but her. The name gave her some degree of hope, though. It couldn’t be coincidence she was brought to such a place while in the deepwoods. She must not be quite as far from home as she initially believed.

“I can’t say I’ve ever heard of Mistwatch before,” Inerys said, “is it a city?”

Cydan gave her a quizzical look. “Hardly. It's a fortress. And a remote one at that.”

She frowned.

“I-” she began, “I see. How far into the deepwoods are we?”

“The . . . deepwoods?” Sorisanna asked.

Slowly, Inerys felt her heart sink.

“It’s what we call the forest beyond the Fringe, where the mist is thickest. It’s a dangerous place, even for us Hounds.”

“Do you mean the Veil?” She asked.

Is that what Rhydian had called it when he’d questioned her earlier?

“I suppose I do,” she said, fearing what the woman might say.

“I’m afraid we’re not in the Veil at all,” the sage said, “the closest border is a little over six leagues to the east.”

Six leagues.

It wasn’t a terrible distance, but she certainly wouldn’t be crossing it in her current condition. She knew nothing of the terrain either, which might prove difficult once she was well enough to move on. A map would help. Directions too.

“And how far away did you find me?”

Cydan pursed his lips. “Honestly? I lost count. Rhydian likely knows. I’d suggest saving any questions of that nature for him.”

Inerys sighed, still tasting blood. “Will he be back soon?”

“Hopefully,” he said.

Wasn’t that helpful.

“Drink while it’s still warm,” Sorisanna said, “I’d like to have a proper look at your Soul in the meantime.”