Queen of Wands (The Tree of Ages Series Book 4) Page 7

  Anders skin seemed to pale, and was that sweat on his brow? “I was unable to dictate my own terms,” he explained. “I wanted the information, and this was the cost.” He urged his horse ahead of Finn’s, cutting off her next question.

  She watched his back silently, wondering about the true terms of his deal with Niklas, and what he had to lose should he fail.

  Kai leaned forward to hover near her shoulder. “We should reconsider this meeting.”

  She nodded, deep in thought, but truly felt even more motivated to attend the meeting, if only to find out exactly what sort of trap Anders had caught himself in.

  Anders wiped the sweat from his brow as he dug his heels into his horse’s sides. He’d never been a good liar, and he was lying more than ever. He could only hope Niklas had nothing nefarious planned for Finn and her companions, and that he’d had nothing to do with the Cavari finding them the night before. As far as he knew, Niklas genuinely desired the partnership, but then, why was he cavorting with Keiren? Keiren desired Finn’s immortality to destroy the barrier to the in-between. He wasn’t sure of all that Keiren’s plan entailed, but he assumed it would not be pleasant for Finn.

  He felt a shiver, then turned to find Iseult watching him. He resisted the urge to gulp. Whatever might happen at the forthcoming meeting, he would be sure to get far, far away from Iseult.

  Tearing his gaze away from Iseult, he eyed the rest of Finn’s companions, including the crazed little dragon, and what perhaps was an actual unicorn. If Niklas aimed to cause Finn harm, they would all come after him. He was sure of that.

  His shoulders slumped as he turned his gaze forward, wiping at the nervous sweat on his brow. He was no fighter, he never had been. His wits had gotten him this far, but he had a terrible feeling his time was running out. He was thoroughly caught in the Traveler’s web. He could try to run, but Niklas would find him, and definitely would not help Branwen then.

  Thinking of Branwen, he sighed. Perhaps he was doing her a disservice by returning her to these dark, ugly times.

  Things were only bound to get worse.

  By the time they stopped for their midday meal, Finn had thoroughly mulled over her conversation with Anders and had made her final decision about the meeting. Though Iseult had distanced himself from her, she felt she at least owed him the opportunity to voice his opinion before they reached the meeting place.

  After dismounting, the party fell into their usual routine of Anna passing out portions of food, and Bedelia boiling water over a small fire for tea.

  Finn held her portion of dried apples and salty cheese in her hands, not feeling much urge to eat them. Instead, she approached Iseult, standing apart from the group as usual, and boldly met his gaze before she could think better of it.

  “We need to speak,” she said evenly.

  He nodded, glanced down at the food in her hands, then gestured for her to lead the way.

  She chose a small path through the young pine trees, walking just far enough that she could be sure their companions were out of earshot . . . though Anders’ ears were the only ones she was evading.

  Iseult followed her, then stopped when she did, remaining silent.

  Feeling awkward with the food in her hands, she offered it to him since she hadn’t seen him take any.

  He shook his head. “You need to eat.”

  Eat? she thought. How could she even think about eating when every time she tried to relax, unsavory memories came swarming in. She inadvertently touched the shroud around her waist, covering the hips of her breeches. The tasks before her seemed too much.

  “I’ll eat later,” she sighed. Not wanting to waste her food, she sandwiched the cheese between the apples and wrapped them in a piece of cloth from the small pouch at her belt, before placing the whole bundle back into the pouch.

  Iseult observed her every movement to the point she felt uncomfortable.

  With the food out of sight, she cleared her throat. “I believe Anders is lying about his intentions, but I’d like to attend the meeting regardless. After the meeting with the Cavari . . . ” she trailed off.

  “You feel powerless,” he finished for her.

  Her jaw fell open. Just when she thought he’d completely shut her out, he surprised her with his insight.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I feel like I need help. Even with my memories . . . ” she shook her head. “There’s just too much I still don’t know. I was fairly young when I gave up my magic and retreated. I don’t understand the politics of the Dair completely, nor do I fully understand my role, and the power that accompanies it. I don’t know if they want me to rule, or if they want to kill me and replace me with another.”

  He nodded. “Whatever they intend, they want to control you. They attempted to take you by force when you first returned to this land, and it seems their tactics have not changed.”

  She frowned. “I apologize for returning to face them. It was idiotic of me to assume I could prevail on my own.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I believe you still can, if you choose to remember who you truly are.”

  Her lip trembled. “I cannot,” she rasped. “I cannot face my memories and survive. I don’t want to be who I was. I want to be who I am now.”

  He gazed down at her, concern clear in his expression. Her tension eased. After their last conflict, she’d feared he’d never let her back in. She hadn’t realized how important their closeness was to her until it was taken away.

  “If you feel it will help,” he began, “we will go to this meeting, but on our terms. I agree that Anders is lying. He’s nervous about something. The only explanation is betrayal. He doesn’t want to be found out.”

  She nodded. “It doesn’t fully make sense though. The last time I met Niklas, he wanted to ally himself with me. I was resistant to the idea, and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Perhaps he found another ally in the interim,” Iseult suggested.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “and I think it’s in our best interest to find out just who that ally is. When I last met Niklas, I had neither my memories, nor the shroud. He might expect that I’m still at such a disadvantage.”

  “We can hope that is the case,” he replied, “though I think it unwise to meet in a place of Niklas’ choosing. I suggest we venture close enough, then send Anders to retrieve him.”

  Finn smiled. “Agreed.” She was starting to wonder if the iciness she’d sensed from him was only in her imagination, she knew it was best not to press the issue, but . . .

  “Iseult?” she questioned as he started to turn away.

  He paused, seeming suddenly wary. “Yes?”

  “I was afraid that I’d overstepped certain boundaries during our last conversation,” she explained. “You’ve seemed . . . distant. If I did something wrong, I apologize.”

  He sighed. “I am the one overstepping. I’m doing it all of the time, but I just can’t seem to help myself. Still, I think it’s better to focus on the dangers at hand, rather than personal . . . emotions.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” she breathed. “It’s difficult to ignore emotions when you feel like you have far too many of them. They just tend to leak out no matter what I do.”

  He smiled, which she appreciated since she was feeling like a total fool. “That you can feel so much after all you’ve experienced only says positive things about you, and it is the reason you’ve formed the bonds you have. Few mortals can claim friends as loyal as yours.”

  She raised an eyebrow, surprised by his statement. “You believe Kai and Anna loyal? You’ve wanted to kill them both ten times over.”

  He nodded. “And yet, here they are. Two thieves, risking their lives instead of hiding like the rest of their ilk.”

  “And you?” she pressed. “You have been more loyal than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  He snorted, a rare show of mirth. “And I? Well I am the worst of all. That you’ve managed to change me speaks volumes.”

&nbs
p; She laughed as he began to guide her back toward their camp. If they left soon, perhaps they could have their meeting with Niklas before nightfall.

  She found herself dreading it a little less than she had before. Although, she realized with a frown, Iseult had not denied that he’d been distant, nor had he expressed the reason for his behavior, except to say he was not upset with her due to their prior conflict.

  Truly, even if she felt a bit better, she was just as confused as ever about the tall, dark-haired man walking swiftly at her side.

  Maarav paced around his new room in one of the outer buildings of the estate. He could get used to this. It was thrice the size of his room at the inn, with a wide fireplace near the door and a bed that could fit five people plus himself, though he’d happily settle for one. Of course, the one he was thinking of was currently upset with him.

  They’d moved An Solas and most of the assassins to the estate, though a few chose to remain at the inn. Perhaps that was the wisest choice. The transition had not been comfortable, and arguments had ensued about Gwythern’s guards being allowed to remain within the estate. Ealasaid wanted to ruffle as few feathers as possible, and believed the extra men would be useful. Maarav believed the only possible outcome was infighting and an eventual revolt. Slàine’s people liked to do things their own way, and would not take kindly to any of the guards stepping on their toes.

  Then there were the magic users, most of whom were simple countryfolk. Ealasaid wanted all of them within the estate where they would be protected, but there was no one to protect everyone else from them. The first night there, a fire mage had gotten bladdered on whiskey and set one of the guard towers ablaze.

  A knock sounded on his door, drawing Maarav’s gaze away from the barren fireplace.

  “Come in!” he called out, but the door was already opening.

  He’d left the door unlocked in hopes that Ealasaid would come to make amends after their last argument, but it was only Ouve, the young boy who’d become something akin to Ealasaid’s second in command. Though his limbs were scrawny despite his tall height, and his sandy hair made him seem somehow more weak, he was not one to be trifled with. He could completely disable most men with his magic before they could even think about drawing a sword.

  “Lady Sìoda is demanding your presence,” Ouve sighed upon entering the room. “She’s refusing to speak to Ealasaid on the pretense that she is mage scum.” His thin lips puckered like he’d tasted something foul.

  Maarav raised an eyebrow at him. “And Ealasaid did not attack?”

  Ouve chuckled. “Not yet, though you should probably get up there before she ends our shaky alliance.”

  He sighed. His work was never done.

  Ouve turned to lead the way out of the room.

  Maarav followed, glancing back longingly at the ornately woven blankets on his bed. What was the point of staying within a wealthy estate if you had no chance to enjoy the fineries?

  Upon exiting the room, he shut the door behind him and locked it with a slender iron key . . . not that locks did any good against magic users and multi-talented assassins, but it should at least keep Gwythern’s servants out.

  He followed Ouve down the narrow corridor, bordered by other occupied rooms, and out onto the terrace, then down the spiraling staircase leading out into meticulously cared for gardens.

  Not even glancing at the slightly wilted, but still beautiful gardens, Ouve cut directly down the center path toward the main estate. Soon enough they were inside, and ascending the stairs toward the room where they’d initially cornered Gwythern and the imposing Lady Sìoda. Reaching the top of the stairs, Maarav paused for a moment to eavesdrop on the shouts coming from within. Ouve poised his fist to knock, then a crackling sound emanated inside the room, and the shouting ceased. The hairs prickled on the back of Maarav’s neck.

  Gesturing for Ouve to step aside, he let himself into the room to find Lady Sìoda and her bevy of attendants staring at Ealasaid in shock. Slàine stood at Ealasaid’s side, looking bored.

  Seeming to recover, Sìoda boomed, “You dare use your filthy magic in my home!”

  Fury plain on her face, Ealasaid clenched her hands at her sides, ignoring the still smoking end table that must have been hit by her lightning.

  “Lady Sìoda,” Maarav interrupted, bowing in the impressive woman’s direction. “I hope this day finds you well.”

  She scowled at him as he approached Ealasaid and Slàine. “Hardly,” she growled. “Your pet mage wants to send my soldiers as messengers into the countryside.”

  Maarav raised a brow at Ealasaid, then turned his attention back to Sìoda. “And?”

  Her plump face reddened. “And I will not allow you to weaken my regiment so your mages can sweep in and take over entirely. I will not relinquish any of my guards.”

  He turned back to Ealasaid. “A word, if you will?”

  She darted her ire-filled gaze past him to Sìoda, then nodded.

  He gestured for her to lead the way out of the room, leaving Slàine to smooth the ruffled feathers of Sìoda. Slàine might not be the most diplomatic woman around, but she would not allow Sìoda to get under her skin as she had Ealasaid’s.

  Following Ealasaid out, he shut the door behind them.

  “That woman is utterly impossible,” Ealasaid fumed, walking further down the hall away from the room. “I simply wanted to send a handful of her men to the distant burghs to seek out magic users in hiding, and she started hurling insults.”

  Maarav placed a hand on Ealasaid’s shoulder to halt her advance. She stopped and blinked up at him.

  “Do you blame her?” he asked calmly. “You were the one who wanted to negotiate with these people, so you must have realistic expectations. Her estate has been invaded by those who could easily eliminate her guards. She would be a fool to send away her men and worsen her situation.”

  Ealasaid’s jaw dropped. “And here I was thinking you’d be pleased that I refused to be bullied into sending our people away.”

  He sighed. “Do you truly believe any magic users they might find will trust common men to escort them back here? Sending other magic users is the only option.”

  “But we’re supposed to protect the magic users,” she argued, her gray eyes fierce. “We cannot tell them there is safety in numbers, then split them up.”

  He pinched his brow, hoping to stave off his growing headache. He longed for his lavish room. “They are not children,” he sighed. “They are your soldiers. Sometimes sacrifices must be made.”

  She glared at him. Electric pressure began building around her, raising the hairs on his neck once more. “I will not sacrifice those who come to An Solas seeking reprieve from persecution,” she stated.

  He crossed his arms and returned her glare. “Yet, you would expect Lady Sìoda to sacrifice her men for a cause she wants no part of?”

  Ealasaid pursed her lips. “You are impossible to deal with,” she snapped.

  “As are you,” he replied. “Now go back in there and inform Lady Sìoda that you will send your own people as messengers, as long as she agrees to volunteer her strongest soldiers to help Slàine’s people alter the fortifications of the estate to their pleasing.”

  She blinked up at him, her anger dripping away. “That has been a large point of contention among the factions,” she said thoughtfully, raising a hand to stroke her chin.

  His shoulders slumped in relief. She was still capable of seeing reason after all.

  She scowled. “I will propose those terms, but I will not take back calling her an old withered cow.”

  His eyes widened as Ealasaid marched away. She might have been born a farm girl, but she possessed the unwavering pride of a queen.

  Chapter Six

  After their short break for a midday meal, the party had ridden westward without any more stops. The continued ride had been uncomfortable for Anna. Not because of her companions, nor that she was already saddle sore, but because of her own thoughts.
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  She was worried about Kai, and found herself grudgingly worried about Finn too. She hadn’t forgotten the vision she’d had back in Garenoch. A vision she could only call a premonition . . . or a portent. She’d known from that moment on that her presence could save Finn from the death she was destined to face. She’d considered that the recent Cavari conflict was that situation, but something didn’t feel right. As frightening as the Cavari were, they weren’t the primary danger, at least not for Finn. That they could track Kai, however, had her worried. Would they come for him should he separate from Finn’s group?

  She exhaled a long sigh, shifting in the saddle, but failing to find a more comfortable position. It didn’t help that her black breeches were stiff with road dust, and her tunic and vest weren’t far behind.

  She sighed again. Why was it her job to save Finn? Sure, there was the whole prophecy thing, and if one of these queens was going to have the fate of the land in her hands, it might as well be Finn . . . they at least knew Finn was kind hearted, and not likely to be a tyrant. Still, her thoughts always came back to Kai, thus motivating her to save Finn. In nearly dying, he had been permanently linked to her. Given that, what might happen to him should Finn perish? Would the slice of immortality she had given him be revoked? Would it matter now that his wounds had healed?

  She sighed again. It was growing dark, and she couldn’t wait to make camp. She disliked thinking about magic. She disliked it almost as much seeing it. She preferred tangible things that she could fully understand. Things she could either fight or manipulate. She couldn’t do either to the gray shapes she saw whenever she let her guard down, nor could she resist her strange, portentous dreams.

  The road, currently devoid of other travelers, made her feel as if she was in a dream. The solitude made her feel vulnerable. She glared in Anders’ direction. He was no doubt leading them right into a trap, yet everyone seemed to be going along with it on the off chance they could save Àed. Anna didn’t care about Àed, and didn’t like risking her neck for a man who couldn’t possibly have many good years left to him.