Book 3: Warrior-mage Corec and his companions have discovered the secret of the wardens and found a clue that may lead them to the ruins of the ancient city of Tir Yadar, but questions still remain. Now, they must sail across the sea to a distant land, meeting new friends while being hunted by mysterious forces.
[Be sure to read Books 1 and 2 first.]
Prologue
The woman who called herself Mara gazed into the steaming washbasin at an image of a blonde girl in a snowstorm. When footsteps sounded behind her, she banished the vision and turned to greet her husband.
Otho looked upon her body with desire in his eyes. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he asked, pulling her to him with a smile and kissing her forehead.
Mara laughed. "I don't know, so you'd better come up with something soon."
He grinned down at her. "Perhaps we should take a real bath, and you can give me a chance to come up with something right now."
"Then we'd miss Tullia's party. Go get dressed. I'll be out soon."
With good-natured grumbling, Otho left the bathing chamber. Mara stared after him for a moment, her smile slipping. She'd enjoyed her time with him, but her current self was rapidly approaching thirty-five years of age, and she hated seeing herself grow old. It would be time for her to go soon, leaving behind another grieving husband.
They'd met fifteen years earlier, when she was posing as one of her own priestesses. She'd just created the new body after spending several years away from the mortal realm, mourning her previous self's husband. Devlin had only been a farmer, but he'd also been a good man, and his death from infection had been difficult for her. He'd been too young, and their time together had been much too short. Mara's previous self hadn't been a priestess, so it was against the rules to save him. She'd left their newborn daughter behind with their closest neighbors and vanished into the woods, shedding her mortal self.
When she'd returned as Mara three years later, Otho had been the first man to greet her in the temple, and it hadn't taken long to seduce him. He'd been new to lovemaking, but he was an apt pupil and learned quickly. A month later, he'd proposed, and Mara, a priestess who'd had no other identity besides her name, had become a member of Valara's high society.
It was the life she was accustomed to, but she still missed her little farm cabin with Devlin.
She sighed. She would miss Otho too, but unlike Devlin, he was alive and young enough to marry again. With his wealth and position in the city, he wouldn't have any problem finding another wife. Mara would have to hold back her jealousy, but she'd done that before. And soon, she'd find another lover for herself, and would eventually stop missing her old life. With a few notable exceptions, she'd always been good at choosing new men.
A shadow grew over the room and a deep voice sounded in her head, interrupting her musing.
Arodisis
, the voice said.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "I can't talk! My husband's in the next room!"
Your human toy can't hear me. I need to know where you stand. Whose side are you on?
"I'm not on anyone's side," she said, keeping her voice low. "What you're doing is dangerous. What
she's
doing is dangerous."
I've changed the ritual. I can prevent another Burning, but if you're not with me, you'll be left behind with the others. If you join me, you can rule at my side.
She quickly cast a ward against listening, then raised her voice. "If you want me, then tell me why Zachal died that day. Was it because he was the only human among us? Or was it because he was sharing my bed?"
You're accusing me of killing one of our own?
Pallisur asked, avoiding the question—just as he had in the past.
"Herasis lived, and she was new. She had no idea what she was doing. Irisis lived. Why did Zachal die?"
I won't dignify that with a response.
"Then I'll keep my own counsel, as I always have."
A lack of a decision is still a decision. You've made your choice.
Pallisur's presence faded from the room, and Arodisis composed herself. Herasis and Pallisur were spending all their efforts on their secret plans and machinations, while never seeing the truth that was right in front of them. Events wouldn't happen the way they expected. Nor would they happen the way Arodisis expected—there was too much interference to see clearly, too much manipulation of potential futures.
She summoned the vision of the blonde girl again. What would
her
role be? Would she prevent any of the less desirable outcomes? By herself, that wasn't likely, but she wasn't the only pawn in the game.
The vision faded and Arodisis became Mara once more.
She'd have to dress quickly or she'd be late to the party.
###
Chapter 1
Corec paced back and forth in the front hall of the High Guard administration building. The troopers posted as guards hadn't allowed him to proceed any farther.
He'd been waiting for over an hour when Sarette arrived, coming from the direction of the military court. She was alone and dressed in civilian clothing now, no longer wearing her uniform or her gambeson-style padded overcoat with its rank insignia on the collar. She did, however, have her chainmail and padded doublet rolled up in a bundle under her arm.
"I didn't realize you were here," she said, seeing him.
"I know you didn't want us to come, but someone had to be here in case you needed us to give evidence."
She sighed. "It's fine. I was worried my parents would be here, and I wanted to focus on the hearing first before I tell them I'm leaving Snow Crown. If they saw you, they'd want to talk, and I just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. But then I found out no one outside the High Guard would be allowed in, so I convinced them to stay home."
"Yes, I learned that too after I got here. What happened in there?"
"Pretty much what I was hoping would happen, I guess. Gregor has his commission back. While he technically outranks me, scouts are usually considered to be outside the chain of command, and I was the one in charge of the expedition. I was the one who made the decisions that the High Guard is unhappy with."
"Decisions that saved lives," Corec pointed out. It had been Sarette who'd convinced the refugees from Jol's Brook to flee to the ruins of Tir Navis in South Valley to take shelter from the snow beasts, and it had been Sarette who'd signaled the High Guard's secret watchtowers for help when supplies had run low. Those seemed to be the two main issues that the High Guard was concerned about.
"I know, but that'll require a full trial. If that ass of a captain had..." Sarette trailed off.
Captain Mikhal, who'd led the patrol that brought the supplies, was also the man who'd relieved Sarette and Gregor of their duties. He'd refused to take statements from the refugees about what had happened to them, and he'd refused to allow any of them to come to Snow Crown as witnesses.
He'd also attempted to force the refugees to return home on their own, so that the rest of the expedition could head back to Snow Crown immediately, but Corec had insisted on accompanying them back to Jol's Brook. The Council of Elders had already given Corec and his friends permission to travel within the mountains and visit the ruins, and had charged Sarette and Gregor with accompanying them. Since Mikhal had relieved the two soldiers of their responsibilities, he was forced to take on those duties himself, which meant his patrol was stuck accompanying the group back to Jol's Brook. Corec had kept everyone at the village—or what was left of it—for an extra five days, mostly to ensure the refugees were able to obtain enough supplies from neighboring villages and farms to last through the winter, but also partly to annoy Mikhal.
"What happens next?" Corec asked.
"I'm still relieved of duty pending a full investigation, but they've agreed that the trial can take place when I return to Snow Crown. In the meantime, I can't draw pay or act as a member of the High Guard, but I haven't been discharged and I'm not guilty of any crimes. A legist will come around to the inn tomorrow to take everyone's statements so the rest of you don't have to come back to Snow Crown with me."
"Why don't we just stay for the trial?"
"That could take months, between the trial itself and waiting for statements to come back from Jol's Brook." She smirked. "General Rodon insisted that Captain Mikhal's patrol will accompany the legist to the village. Mikhal won't like that, but the general wasn't happy when Gregor pointed out that he refused our request to take the refugees' statements while we were there."
"This Rodon was on your side, then?"
Sarette shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't so much that there were different sides, but the judges have to follow the laws and procedures. They weren't willing to say it out loud, but I got the impression I'd be cleared of any wrongdoing if the story is confirmed. Well, not entirely—I still broke the law. I'll probably be discharged, but with honor."
Corec nodded, understanding the distinction. The Knights of Pallisur he'd trained with were organized differently than the stormborn High Guard, but he was familiar with Larso's army since the knights were expected to lead units during times of war. The High Guard seemed to be a more advanced version of the Larsonian army. There were no knights or nobles in stormborn society, so the High Guard had a full command structure of its own, with rules to ensure everything ran smoothly regardless of circumstances.
An older man came into the room then, dressed in a style reminiscent of the High Guard's winter uniform but in darker colors and without any rank insignia. He greeted Sarette in the stormborn language, then glanced at Corec and switched to trade tongue.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said. "I was just telling Rodon about a new ice-fishing spot I found."
"Corec," Sarette said, "this is my Uncle Vartus. He's the one that trained me as a stormrunner."
The man nodded. "Our family has produced a lot of stormrunners over the years. It doesn't hurt to remind them of that. Sarette tells me you're a warden?"
"I am," Corec said. It still felt odd to claim a title he knew so little about, and that most people had never heard of. It was as if he was pretending to be something he wasn't.
"What does that mean, exactly? All I've heard are all children's stories, and yet that's apparently enough for the Council of Elders to go out of their way to help you."
"It wasn't like that, Vartus," Sarette said. "All they asked for was permission to visit South Valley. The Council agreed and sent a scout to make sure they didn't get lost. That's all that happened."
"Then how did
