Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Ivy
The figure who prodded me through the woods strides along between me and Benedikt, a slim sword in their grasp. Whether they’re protecting him from me or me from him, I can’t tell.
Perhaps it’s a little of both.
With every step we take through the night-draped forest, I’m surer of my earlier impressions. With every loping stride of the man across from me, more quivers of stomach-churning recognition race through me.
I don’t understand, but somehow one of the men I counted as an ally has become my enemy.
He’s accused Stavros too, in an indirect way—saying the former general was conspiring with me to double-cross the scourge sorcerers. If the fiends believe him, they’ll attack Stavros without any warning.
But he’s kept Alek’s and Casimir’s names out of it. Because he does have some kind of conscience still, or because he didn’t know how to explain they were helping me without revealing that he once was as well?
It takes all my concentration to keep my expression impassive and my own strides steady. If our interrogators realize that I’ve identified my accuser, that I feel betrayed… then they’ll know I really did have secrets to betray.
The figure I think is Ster. Torstem marches between the trees ahead of us. I haven’t seen enough of the law professor to confidently recognize him from his gait, but nothing about his movements contradicts my suspicion.
I’m still vaguely aware of a handful of others tramping in their loose ring around us. Guarding against any attempt to escape.
Where are they taking us? What are they going to do with us?
My magic slithers through my chest like the snake I caught by the Quadring. I can almost hear it hissing in frustration.
It would like to knock Benedikt’s feet out from under him, to punch through his ribcage and wrench him apart. Even though I’m horrified by what’s happened tonight, the images that flash through my mind sicken me too.
I need to know more. I’ll be safer if I can play this cool and careful.
For now, I’m managing to convince my power of that. That the threat isn’t significant enough for it to punish me for not letting it loose. No one has a rope around my neck so far.
I doubt I’d have kept it as well contained if it hadn’t gotten that brief chance to exert itself a few nights ago. How much worse can this situation get before it sinks its claws into me, and the conspirators realize something’s going wrong beyond a squabble between their recruits?
I push down that worry, keeping my hands loose and relaxed at my sides. Mentally charting the distance to the knife in my boot, for the small comfort the thought provides.
Our strange procession draws to a halt at a looming stone barrier. We’ve reached the back end of the massive wall that surrounds the entire campus.
Guards will be patrolling all the way around it, but there mustn’t be any within sight right now. The man I think is Torstem steps forward and presses his hands to the lichen-spotted stones.
I can’t see what he does or make out any words from the faint murmur that leaves his lips. Then the stones seem to ripple as if the shadows are condensing in a thicker patch right in front of him.
It looks like the secret passage in the hall of tapestries. As our escort prods us onward, a chill seeps through my skin.
The scourge sorcerers have managed to alter the walls of the school itself during the time they’ve been active here. What other defenses have they managed to penetrate?
A deeper chill washes over me on my way through the conjured opening, and then I’m standing on the rocky bank of the Starsil River.
At this early hour, only a couple of spots of lantern light gleam among the middle-ward buildings on the other side of the coursing waters. No one stirs on the streets.
The man in charge leads us several paces along the bank to what looks like a bunch of scattered boards. When I’m close enough, the image shimmers with a tingle of magic, the boards melding into a small wooden boat.
An illusion—designed to conceal the watercraft they’ve stashed here.
There’s nothing I can do but clamber onto the boat at the swordsman’s gesture. Benedikt follows. The leader, the swordsman, and three other figures sit around us.
We cast off onto the water. No one brings out paddles, and the craft has no sail, but somehow we glide along a fairly straight course along the river. The tingling sensation I felt before heightens—there’s more magic guiding us on our path.
It takes us diagonally across the Starsil, avoiding the built-up banks within the city proper, gliding on toward the wilder stretch beyond the main walls.
I spot a few members of the Crown’s Watch on guard on the city side, but the illusion must hide us well enough. Not a single shout goes up.
No one’s patrolling in the sparse forest across from the main harbor. We disembark and trudge on, leaving the city behind.
None of the conspirators have spoken the whole time. I assume they don’t want to risk discovery, but the silence gnaws at me.
How far are we going? Do I still have a chance at turning this situation around, or are they cutting their losses and marching both of us to our deaths?
The sound of the palace bell filters through the trees, marking the fourth hour. The forestland thickens around us, the ground starting to slope upward.
I’m not sure how much farther we’ve walked before the man who might be Torstem signals for us to stop.
We’ve reached a low cliff face, only about twice as tall as my scrawny frame. The swordsman directs us to a narrow crack that turns out to be the entrance to a cave.
“You’ll wait here while we confer,” the man in charge tells us.
He picks up a lantern from just beyond the cave entrance, lights it, and ushers us inside.
It’s clear they’ve kept prisoners in this place before. The conspirators lead us down a short passage to a small cavern only about ten paces across… with several chains fixed to the walls, manacles attached to their ends.
As the swordsman pushes me to sit down next to a length of chain, Julita shudders in my head. I have to restrain a cringe of my own, letting the sorcerer clamp the manacle around my ankle.
At the other side of the cavern, the lead man grasps Benedikt’s shroud. “This will only get in the way now. The accusations go both ways; you should be on equal ground.”
He wrenches the fabric off Benedikt’s head in one yank.
It is him. The jaunty bastard’s bastard stares across the cave at me, his golden hair rumpled and his mouth clamped flat as if he’s trying not to vomit.
My gut lurches at the confirmation. I manage to take him in with a slight furrow of my brow, as if I’m confused rather than shocked or horrified.
The conspirators will be watching my reaction, judging whether I have any connection to this man.
It’s a good thing they can’t hear Julita’s yelp that rings through my head. Benny—what in the realms—how the fuck could he—
Apparently she didn’t pick up on the same hints I did. Not surprising when her awareness of what I see and hear is dulled, if it’s anything like what I experienced the one time I let her spirit take over.
She doesn’t seem to know what else to say, lapsing into stunned silence.
Benedikt leans his well-built frame against the wall of the cave and accepts his own manacle. He’s dressed for the occasion all in the same black as his shroud: black silk tunic, black trousers, black boots polished enough to gleam in the lantern light.
Queasiness fills my belly. I study him for any clue as to why he’s turned on me, but his betrayal doesn’t make any more sense than it did before.
He focuses on the man who might be Torstem. “I await whatever test you’d conduct for us. I know the gods will be on my side.”
He’s trying to keep up his usual nonchalant tone, but I pick up a slight quaver he can’t totally smooth out of his voice.
The scourge sorcerers stalk out of the cave. They take the lantern with them. The light wavers away, leaving us in total darkness.
I drag in a careful breath despite my rattled nerves, not wanting to show any emotion.
I can’t sense any magic lingering around us, can’t hear anything other than the erratic thud of my own heart and the faint rustle of Benedikt’s clothes as he adjusts his position, but there’s still a chance the conspirators are monitoring us.
I’m so sorry, Julita says. I never would have imagined he’d— I thought he’d do anything to support the king! I have no idea what’s the matter with him.
All I can do is raise my shoulders in a shrug to indicate my shared confusion.
For several minutes, we sit there in silence. The cool but stuffy air of the cave seems to congeal around me, thick with a moist, mineral scent. My head keeps whirling, my thoughts getting even harder to pull into order through my growing fatigue.
Benedikt shifts again with a clink of his chain. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.”
His voice is low but abrupt, making my nerves jump in response. I peer toward him through the darkness but can’t make out even the outline of his body.
It seems safest to stay silent, as much as my confusion gnaws at me.
“You have no idea what it’s like,” he goes on. “Nothing I’ve ever done has mattered to the people who are supposed to be my family. I got in the habit of acting like an idiot because that’s all they see me as. That’s not what I wanted to be.”
Julita brings the snark I can’t voice out loud. And he thought turning on you would make him less of an idiot? If I had my hands to slap him with…
“I thought I had a chance to do something real with Julita and… everything.” Benedikt pauses, maybe as aware as I am that he shouldn’t say anything too incriminating.
“But what do I get? I’m dismissed over again.
Treated like I’m useless. Two chances are better than one, aren’t they?
I went to see what I could find out on my own. ”
He set himself up to be recruited just like I had, presumably. Hoping he’d come up with answers before I did?