Book 1: Chapter Twenty
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After over a week of staying in inns on the way back to Tyrsall, they ran into a stretch of road where they wouldn’t reach another village in time for nightfall, so they camped out.

Following the same pattern they’d used before reaching Four Roads, Shavala took the early morning watch. Sometimes Bobo or Katrin kept her company, but she liked the quiet watches, too, when there was no one awake but her.

An hour after she’d relieved Corec, she decided to make another circuit around the camp, and slid down from the boulder she’d been sitting on. As she landed lightly on the ground, the arrows in her new quiver shifted around more than she liked. It was reassuring to carry more, even if they hadn’t been needed them since leaving Four Roads, but she still didn’t like the new quiver. Perhaps she could find something in Tyrsall rather than waiting to ask her brother for one.

She grabbed her unstrung bow from the boulder and began strolling in a wide circle around the camp, allowing her rune to shine. Corec had offered to leave a mage light out for her, but she’d declined, keeping watch with just her elder senses and her elven ability to see movement in the darkness. Now that she was walking, though, nothing beat actual light to keep from tripping over something on the ground. The fire had died hours ago, but the night was dark enough that the faint blue glow from the rune illuminated a dozen feet in front of her.

She passed by Corec’s tent and grinned to herself as she heard a rhythmic motion and Katrin’s light gasp of pleasure. Apparently Corec hadn’t gone back to sleep immediately after his watch ended.

Everyone had tents now, and as she walked in a wide circle, she passed her own, then Bobo’s, then Treya’s. On the far side of the camp, she saw yellow eyes staring at her in the darkness.

“Well, hello there,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

The young wolf approached, skinnier than he should be and looking hungry.

“I don’t have any rabbit tonight, and we finished off the stew,” she said. “I’ve got a bit of sausage in my saddlebags. Let me find it. You really should be hunting for yourself, you know.”

She was speaking Elven. It didn’t matter what language she used when talking to animals, but she missed speaking Elven. The only time she heard it from someone else was when Bobo was practicing with her, but he was new to the language, and his pronunciation was horrible.

The wolf followed her, wagging its tail a few times and relaxing its ears, but the saddlebags were too close to the horses and mules, and Socks and Dot snorted and shied away.

“It’s all right,” she told them. “He’s a friend.” They didn’t look like they believed her.

She found the sausage in her pack and led him back to the far side of the camp before giving it to him. “We’ll have to stay over here, and you’ll need to leave our horses alone. They’re part of my pack.”

He sniffed the first piece tentatively before scarfing it down.

As he ate, she said, “How did you end up here? We’re a long way from where we met last time.” They were at least a hundred miles from where she’d last encountered the wolf.

He looked at her and whined.

She didn’t know how to interpret that, but there were only so many reasons a yearling wolf would be on its own. “You decided to leave home and form a new pack? You’re awfully young to go off on your own.”

He cocked his head to the side, his tail wagging again.

“No, I’m not going to hunt with you. You need to learn to hunt for yourself, or find a she-wolf to help you, or go back to your parents.” A wolf pack was almost always comprised of a single mated pair and any of their children that hadn’t gone off on their own yet. It was rare for a yearling to leave.

The wolf made a show of dominance, putting its tail up and baring its teeth as its fur stood on end.

“Don’t you try that with me!” she said firmly.

He crouched down, his fur smoothing out and his tail curling under him.

“That’s better. I won’t have time to hunt tomorrow, and then we’ll be out of your territory, but I can give you more food before the others wake up. You’ll need to go after that. You don’t want them to see you, do you?”

He stretched his forelegs out in front of him, his rear sticking up with his tail wagging.

She shook her head, wondering if she knew enough about how wolves hunted to give him some tips.

#

The morning after they’d arrived back in Tyrsall, Treya woke to the sound of the door opening. As she sat up in bed, Renny came in.

“Hey,” Renny said. “Mother Ola stuck you in our old room?”

“I guess we haven’t been gone long enough for it to be assigned to someone else.”

“Yes, I thought you were supposed to be journeying,” Renny said with an evil grin. “That sure was a short journey.”

Treya groaned. “Don’t remind me. I ran into a mage on the road, and he cast some sort of spell on me by accident. We came to Tyrsall to try to get it removed.”

“A spell? Magic? Are you all right?”

“So far, yes. The only thing we’ve been able to figure out that it does is this.” She allowed the rune on her brow to shine, releasing the hold she’d been keeping on it.

Renny stepped back in surprise, then came toward her to peer at it. “It’s pretty.”

“That’s not the point,” Treya said, rolling her eyes. “I’m trying to get rid of the thing.”

“I know, but it’s still pretty.”

“Do you remember Priest Telkin?”

“Was he the one from the Temple of Allosur?”

“Yes. I need to send him a note this morning to ask if he can help us.”

“Us?”

“Me and the mage, and the other two people he did it to.” Treya decided not to mention that the other two were also young women. Renny’s mind would immediately go to places Treya wasn’t prepared to talk about.

It didn’t help, though. “You said the mage is a he? Is he young and handsome?”

“Well, you’ll like this. He’s the son of a baron.”

Renny grinned. “A rich, young, handsome son of a baron?”

“He certainly can’t afford to hire a concubine, if that’s what you mean. He’s the son of a Sister concubine, but I don’t think he’s close to his family.”

“Maybe he’s just wandering the world in disguise to get a feel for the plight of the common man, but he actually lives in a castle! You could write to his mother! She’s a Sister; she’ll tell you the truth!”

Treya couldn’t help laughing. “Renny, you read too many stories, and I’m not interested in his eligibility. I just want to be done with him as soon as possible. Besides, he hasn’t said as much, but I got the impression his mother passed away.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“What about you?” Treya asked. “Any news?”

“Varsin agreed to teach me his business. And I visited his brother’s concubines. I don’t think they like their men very much. I reported it to Mother Ola so she can check up on them.”

Treya frowned. “Did they say why?”

“No, they didn’t say anything about it—that was just the impression I got.”

“But Varsin’s all right?”

“I like him, but he’s a busy man. I’m hoping that assisting him with his work will allow us to spend more time together.”

Just then, the door opened again and Nina ran in. “Treya! You’re back!” Nina was fifteen now, but just as excitable as she’d been when she first started training as a mystic. “What’s that on your head?”

Treya hid the rune, not wanting to worry the girl. “It’s a magic spell from a wizard, but it’s gone now.”

“You met a wizard?”

“Sort of. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Do you want to spar today? I’ve only had Kelis to spar with since you left.”

“I want to catch up with Renny while she’s here, and then I’ve got some other things to do this morning, but I might have time this afternoon.”

#

Katrin paused nervously outside the constabulary building. “I don’t want to do this. Can’t we just ignore it? No other bounty hunters have come after me.”

“Maybe because your bounty isn’t very high,” Corec said. “The real bounty hunters probably aren’t interested, but you never know when somebody will recognize you from the picture. It’s still right up there on the wall.” He pointed to the weathered poster which had images of both her and her uncle.

She frowned, not thinking much of its likeness of her, though Felix was recognizable. “I suppose. Are you sure they won’t arrest me?”

“I’ve never paid a penalty fee before. Didn’t you pay your brother’s before?”

“Once, but that was in Circle Bay, and only after he’d already been arrested.”

“Well, I don’t know how it works here. I was only arrested the one time, when I punched that guy, and I just stayed in for the week. But I think they’d keep you for several months, so we should go ahead and pay it. The impression I got from the guy I spoke to was that you wouldn’t have to go to prison at all, but I didn’t ask for the details.”

Katrin frowned, wishing he’d asked a few more questions, but then took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s get it over with.”

They went inside, and she flinched when she saw a group of uniformed constables standing around the duty desk, chatting with each other. She’d spent her entire life trying to avoid the constabulary, and she half-expected them to arrest her then and there. She grasped Corec’s hand for support—he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets, since he’d left his heavier armor back at the inn. The men didn’t show any interest in them, merely glancing their way briefly before returning to their conversation.

“The bounty office is this way,” Corec said, and led her to a smaller room down a short hallway to the left.

There was a bearded man standing behind a counter, and copies of wanted posters were hung up along the back wall.

The man looked up when they entered. “Can I help you?”

“My name’s Corec. I’m here to turn in a bounty, and the young lady would like to pay off her penalty.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Which bounty?” He turned and scanned the posters behind him, only a few of which featured women.

Katrin took off her hat, so she’d look more like the picture.

“The one with the older fellow,” Corec said. “They were working together, but he got away. I convinced the girl it’d be better to pay off her penalty so it wasn’t hanging over her head.”

The man pulled the poster off the wall, peering at it, then back at Katrin. “That’s you, all right, but what’s that thing on your head?”

“A tattoo, with special ink,” she said. “I got it after I left the city.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that. Let me pull the records.” He looked through a stack of papers in a drawer, finally selecting one and pulling it out. “Thief, huh?”

Katrin felt herself blushing, and looked down at her feet.

“That’s the one,” Corec said when she didn’t reply.

“What’s your name?” the man asked her. “I don’t have it here.”

“Katrin.”

“All right, Katrin, let’s go see the booking sergeant. He’ll have some questions for you.” He turned to Corec. “You wait here. Once the booking sergeant is done with her, I can pay out on the bounty.”

Katrin looked back at Corec and bit her lip nervously as the man led her out of the bounty office. This time, the constables did stare at her suspiciously as she was led back through the main lobby, then into a small office behind the duty desk. The sergeant turned out to be a granite-faced man of no particular age she could determine.

The man from the bounty office whispered into his ear and passed him the poster and the other sheet of paper he’d brought with him, then left the two of them together.

Once they were alone, the sergeant looked at her impassively and said, “Name?”

“Katrin.”

“Where are you from?”

“Tyrsall, originally. Most recently, Circle Bay.”

“Why did you return to Tyrsall?” The sergeant’s tone was bored, as if he didn’t care about the answers to the questions.

“I’m learning to be a minstrel. We thought we’d make more money in a bigger city.”

“The man you were working with that night—what’s his name? Where is he from?”

Katrin couldn’t lie about everything, since Corec had told her that the constabulary knew she and Felix had arrived on the same ship. But Felix was still her uncle—she didn’t want to lead them right to him. “Felix, I think. That’s the name he gave me, anyway. He found me playing the harp and singing, and offered to teach me to play the gittern, but only if I came here—I thought he was from Tyrsall, and that’s why he wanted to come back.”

“You met him in Circle Bay?”

“Yes, but I don’t think he’d been there long.” The lie felt clumsy even as she spoke, and the sergeant’s eyes bored into her.

“Did he mention he was a pickpocket?”

“Not until we reached the city.”

“And yet, you’re a pickpocket, too.” He smiled for the first time, as if pleased that he’d caught her out. “At least two pieces of jewelry and one belt pouch were stolen while this Felix was performing and you were wandering around the crowd.”

“I…when I was younger, a street gang made me steal for them, but I stopped a long time ago. I wouldn’t have done it this time if I’d had any choice.”

“A street gang? In Tyrsall or Circle Bay?”

Katrin felt trapped. For all that this sergeant didn’t seem to care about what he was doing, she was telling him more than she’d wanted to say, and she still didn’t know whether he was going to send her to prison or allow her to pay the penalty fee.

“Tyrsall.”

“Which gang?”

She pressed her lips together tightly.

He waited, still watching her with that impassive stare. Finally, he said, “Not willing to say?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Very well. But if you ever change your mind…”

She nodded.

He intoned, “Katrin of Circle Bay, you are wanted by the city and kingdom of Tyrsall for the crime of theft. Since there’s no record of your activities with this street gang you mentioned, we’ll have to treat it as a first offense, which means the judge can impose a sentence anywhere from three to twelve months. Do you understand?”

She swallowed. “Yes, but I wanted to pay the penalty fee.”

“We’ll get to that later. Can you return any of the items or coin that you stole? That would reduce your sentence. Or your fee.”

“No. Felix took it all when he left.” She didn’t try to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “He abandoned me to a bounty hunter that came after us. I borrowed the money for the penalty fee from someone else.”

“Borrowed it from the bounty hunter?” the sergeant asked with a raised eyebrow. The other man must have told him who she’d come in with.

“I…” Katrin knew how bad that would look, and now that she and Corec were sleeping together, she couldn’t even say it was wrong. She felt herself blush again.

He shrugged. “What an attractive young woman does to make her way in the world is her business. Unless she steals, and then it’s my business. You understand that this will go on your record, and that next time, the sentence will be much higher?”

“I understand.”

“Then I’ll get you booked in. You’ll need to wait in one of the cells here for a couple of hours until the judge is available. After he sentences you, you can pay the penalty fee. According to this, it’s listed at seven gold. Do you have enough?”

“Yes.”

Corec had given her the coins in case they got separated.

“All right,” the sergeant said. “We’ll have you back to your bounty hunter by the end of the day.”

Katrin breathed a sigh of relief. A few hours in jail was better than months in prison. She could handle it.

#

“I’m going to return to the library tomorrow,” Bobo said.

“You really think you’ll find anything else?” Corec asked.

“Maybe not about wardens or binding runes, but there are some things I want to look into for myself.”

Corec figured that meant he wouldn’t have to pay the man’s library fee this time. “All right,” he said. “Are you going to stay in Tyrsall, then?”

“Circle Bay seems as good a place to ply my trade as any.”

Apparently, Bobo planned to stay with them for the long term. At least he was paying his own way now, and with the end of summer, he and Shavala had been able to fully restock his herbs and medicines. He’d started trading with other herbalists along the way, and had done thriving business in villages that didn’t have one.

“We’ll be glad to have you,” Corec said, and was surprised to realize he meant it.

Before Bobo could respond, the door to the room opened unexpectedly. Katrin was on the other side, with a bloody scrape on one cheek.

“What happened?” Corec said, standing and cupping the side of her face so he could get a better look. “I was just about to come get you.”

“There were only four cells and three of them had men in them, so they put me in with some crazy beggar woman. I guess she didn’t like my rune. She shouted that I was a witch and tried to attack me.”

“What did you do?”

“They opened the door and pulled me out, but not before she got my cheek. Then they moved some of the men around so I could have a cell to myself, but they were running low on space so they got the judge to come by early. I paid the fee, he let me go, and they gave me back my hat, so I decided to come back here on my own rather than wait.”

He looked into her eyes. She seemed more disturbed than her words suggested, but he decided not to pry while the others were around. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he said, putting an arm around her.

“I’ll go get some of the salve that prevents infections,” Bobo said. He stood, but before he could reach the still-open door, Treya came in and glanced at Katrin’s cheek.

“Or I could just heal it,” she said. “What happened?”

Katrin told the story again while Treya placed a glowing hand on her cheek. A moment later, the glow faded, and she wiped the blood away, leaving smooth skin.

Bobo frowned at her. “That seems like cheating, somehow.”

Treya shrugged. “I didn’t ask for magic, but if I have it, I’m going to use it. You didn’t mind after the drakes.”

“True.”

“How did it go today?” Corec asked her.

“I got a reply back from Telkin, the priest that I know. He says he can see us tomorrow morning.”

He nodded. “All right, the priest tomorrow, and then if he can’t help us, we’ll try to talk to that wizard, Rallus. After that’s taken care of, I’ll book passage on a ship to Circle Bay, for whoever’s coming with us.”

Treya nodded but didn’t reply. She wasn’t planning to go to Circle Bay—she’d made it clear that she wanted to have the binding spell removed, then have nothing further to do with him.

“I’ll come to Circle Bay,” Shavala said. “I wish to see how the ships and their sails work. But before we leave, I’d like to find a quiver that fits my arrows better. Is there a place in Tyrsall that I could look?”

“Why not try the elven quarter?” Katrin suggested.

Shavala cocked her head to the side in surprise. “There’s an elven quarter in the city?”

Corec was surprised, too.

“It’s small, but yes,” Katrin said. “It’s away from the shopping district, and it’s mostly homes, but there are some shops as well. I can show you.”

“Thank you.”

#

“Hello again, Treya,” Priest Telkin said the next morning. He’d met them just inside the entrance to the temple. “These are the people you mentioned in your note?”

“Yes.” She introduced him to her companions. Telkin was the man who’d first confirmed that her healing magic was divine, though he hadn’t been able to tell her which god had granted her the blessing.

“Well, let’s go in and see if we can help,” he said as he led them into the great hall. “Welcome to the Temple of Allosur. The God of Knowledge welcomes all.” It had the sound of a rote phrase.

Treya walked behind him, along with Katrin, Shavala, and Corec. She’d visited the temple before when Telkin had tested her, but her companions looked around in wonder at the high ceilings, the polished wood ornamentation, and the artwork that lined every wall. Of the other major temples she’d visited, The Lady’s temple was more practical and humble, while the Temple of Arodisis was smaller and more intimate, with artwork that had made her blush when she realized what she was looking at.

“This is impressive,” Corec said.

“Only the temple in Matagor is greater,” Telkin said. “And I’ve heard good things about the High Temple of Pallisur in Telfort. Come along, and I’ll bring you to the bishop.”

“The bishop?” Treya asked, suddenly nervous. “I didn’t mean to suggest that. I was hoping you could help us.”

Telkin shook his head. “From the message you sent, I don’t believe there’s anything I can do for you. If this is some sort of curse, demonic or otherwise, only Bishop Lastal will be able to break it. And my own blessings don’t extend much beyond healing and protection.”

“Protection?” Since she hadn’t been trained by the temples, Treya didn’t actually know much about the divine magic she could wield. One of her blessings was healing, and the other helped her hit harder in a fight, but nobody had ever told her what was possible.

“Spells to guard against attack, magical or physical,” he replied. He’d led them out of the main hall through a side door, and down a less opulent corridor, before stopping outside a pair of double doors. “Please wait here. I’ll ask if His Grace can see you.”

“Wait! I don’t know how to talk to a bishop!” Treya said. She caught Corec’s eye, but he just shrugged.

Telkin said, “He doesn’t stand on ceremony, little cousin. Just call him Your Grace, and be polite.” He went through the door and let it close behind him.

“Cousin?” Katrin asked Treya.

“We’re not related. It’s just how the Allosurian priests refers to priests from different orders.”

Telkin returned. “Bishop Lastal will see you now.”

He ushered them into the office, and came in with them. The bishop was younger than Treya had expected, with a long, bushy, brown beard. He wore a white robe, similar to Telkin’s, but where Telkin’s was plain and unassuming, the bishop’s was heavily ornamented with gold embroidery. He sat behind a large wooden desk with nothing on it besides a quill pen and a stoppered ink bottle. A bookshelf to his right held a dozen matching leather-bound tomes.

There were only two empty chairs in the room, so Treya and her companions remained standing, as did Telkin.

“Sir, these are the people I told you about,” Telkin said.

Lastal looked up, staring at each of them in turn. When he reached Treya, he said, “You are the Sister of the Three Orders that’s also a priestess?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Your Grace.”

“Either will do. I’ve read your note, but it was brief. Why don’t you tell me the whole story?”

Treya allowed her rune to flare to life and turned to her friends. When they saw what she’d done, Shavala did the same and Katrin took off her straw hat so all three of the runes were showing. Treya looked to Corec to see if he wanted to start.

He stepped forward and spoke with a tone of authority she’d never heard him use before. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I am Corec Tarwen, third son of Lord Ansel, Baron of Tarwen, out of Larso.” He waited until the bishop had acknowledged him with a nod, then continued speaking. “About two months ago, I ran into Katrin, here,” he laid a hand on her shoulder, “at an inn. We didn’t speak that night, but around that same time, my arm and her head started itching. They kept itching until the next time we met, about nine or ten days later, when the runes appeared on those spots. The one on my arm is an exact match to the one on her head.”

He rolled up his sleeves, having foregone his armor for the visit to the temple. The match to Katrin’s rune shone on his right arm, just above the one matching Treya’s own. Shavala’s rune glowed on his left.

Lastal stood, then, and came around his desk to peer at all of the runes, finally stopping in front of Treya. “And you have a similar story?”

“Yes, Your Grace, though Shavala’s came first.” She indicated the elf girl.

“Mine took eleven days,” Shavala said.

“Though, as best we can remember, the itching didn’t start until the day after we’d met,” Corec added. “And we weren’t separated the entire time in between. She joined us several days before the runes appeared.”

Treya said, “For me, the itching started right after we met. It took nine days for the rune to appear, but I was with them the whole time, other than the two nights I spent at the Three Orders chapter house in Four Roads.”

“We spoke to a wizard here in Tyrsall,” Corec said. “This was before we met Treya. He said they were binding runes and were the result of a binding spell. He tried to banish the spell, but it didn’t work. Treya thought we should come here.”

“I don’t believe there’s anything I can do about a binding spell,” Lastal said. “Do you know who cast it?”

Corec shrugged. “I think it must have been me, but I don’t know how I’m doing it. I’m some sort of…well, not a wizard, but something like it.”

“I was under the impression that a binding spell took some time to prepare.”

“Yes, that’s what the wizard said. He doesn’t think I’m responsible, but I don’t see how anyone else could have done it.”

Treya said, “Could it be be some sort of curse? Either the binding spells themselves, or the fact that they keep happening?”

“Telkin mentioned you’d asked about that,” Lastal said. “But no, curses are more direct than that. Get sick, grow weak, feel pain. A curse can’t cast a spell, and it certainly can’t keep casting the same spell over and over again. Still, it won’t hurt to try it.”

He reached up and touched her forehead, concentrating. He didn’t say anything, but Treya felt something happening, almost a sense of anticipation. Then the feeling passed. She could still see her rune reflected in his eyes.

“No,” he said, “there’s no curse to be broken, either demonic or demonborn.”

“Demonborn?”

“Demonborn can sometimes inherit the abilities of their ancestors, just as godborn can.”

“Godborn?” Corec said in surprise. “I thought they were a myth.”

“Oh, they exist, but they’re rare, and even the godborn themselves seldom know they’re different than anyone else. They aren’t born with the stigma of a demonborn. Usually.” He glanced back at Treya. “I tried healing you as well, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”

She slumped. It had been a long shot, but she’d still been hopeful he’d be able to help. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Or any way to keep it from happening again?” Corec asked.

“Let me examine each of you more carefully,” the bishop said. He stepped away and faced them, his eyes becoming cloudy as the irises turned white. After a moment, they returned to normal. “You don’t think it’s unusual that you’re all mages of one sort or another?”

“What?” Katrin said. “I’m not a mage!”

“Are you sure about that? I’ve met a druid before, and of course our little cousin here can use divine magic. You have arcane magic, like your young man, though both of you use it in ways I’ve never seen before.”

“I…I’m a bard. I have the talent for it, anyway.”

“Ahh, that would explain it. Bards don’t like to refer to their abilities as magic, but they are. All four of you have some sort of magic—do you think it’s a coincidence that you all came together like this?”

Treya exchanged glances with her companions.

“Does that mean anybody who isn’t a mage is safe?” Corec asked.

Lastal hesitated. “Who can say? That depends entirely on what’s actually happening.”

“Is there anything else we should try, Your Grace?” Treya said.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually, but I’d suggest staying together until then, just in case. What else were you planning to try?”

Corec said, “The wizard we spoke to said there’s another wizard who might be able to help. Rallus?”

“Rallus? I’ve met the man. He’ll want something in exchange.”

“We’re prepared to pay him.”

“Hmm. Perhaps, then. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be of more help.”

They said their goodbyes then, and Telkin escorted them out of the building.

As they walked away, Corec said, “I don’t trust him.”

“Telkin? Why not?” Treya asked.

“No—the bishop. I think he knew more than he was saying.”

20