Chapter 13 Keelan
Acouple of hours later, my team and I revisited the infirmary.
Finding nothing new, we spent the rest of the afternoon combing Tiana’s house and the field behind it.
The difference in how the two locations had been treated by the intruders was confounding.
In the infirmary, we found nothing missing despite how the storage room had been ransacked, but Tiana’s house had been stripped bare.
It looked as though she had never lived there.
Sil and I moved slowly around the house to the back of the property. A mottled mare snorted and cantered toward us. Apparently unafraid of the strange people invading its territory, the horse strode directly to me and buried its nose into my chest.
“Friendly gal, aren’t ya?” I said, scratching her head between the ears.
Sil walked up and ran her hand along the horse’s back. “She’s a beauty. Tiana had good taste.”
“I bet you know what happened here,” I said, holding the horse’s head in my hands and staring into her eyes. “Wish you could talk to us.”
Sil cleared her throat. “About that, sir . . .”
“You’re kidding, right?” My head snapped toward her. “I thought your Gift was all about tracking animals, finding trails and such.”
Sil shrugged. “I spent years as a tracker. We talked about that when you picked me for the team, but you never asked about my Gift.” The skin around Sil’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “I can communicate with most animals.”
“Don’t think I’ve ever known anyone with that one.” I whistled, then turned back to the horse and rubbed her neck. “Care to make introductions?”
“That’s not quite how it works. I don’t exactly talk with animals. It’s more like sharing images, impressions, or emotions. I can visualize things or people and share those images with an animal. Unless the beast is particularly stubborn, they’ll return images or emotions in reply.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Any animal?”
She thought a moment, then nodded again. “Essentially, yes, but the intelligence of the animal determines how clear the images are. A simple bird might only understand basic things, like fear or hunger, while a hawk could share detailed images, perhaps even allow me to see through its eyes.”
“That’s remarkable,” I said.
“I use it for a lot of things you might not think about,” she said, pride threading her words. “What if this horse had been spooked by us?”
I stared at the horse. “Could you send soothing feelings? Calm her?”
Sil nodded.
“That really is amazing, Sil.” I glanced from the horse to Sil. “Okay. I’m not sure I get all that, but why don’t you talk to Bessie here and see what we can learn?”
The horse snorted and nipped at me. Her ears flicked, tail lashing behind her as though swatting a non-existent fly.
“Easy, girl,” I soothed.
Sil chuckled. “She didn’t like being called Bessie. No idea what her name is, but she didn’t like that, sir, not one bit.”
I shook my head. “Just talk to her, okay?”
“Testy, testy. You know animals don’t like people who aren’t patient,” said Sil, clicking her tongue. “Horses especially. They take things slowly until they decide to take things fast. A different pace from humans, that’s for sure.”
When I stared instead of responding, Sil got on with it, removing a glove and placing her hand on the horse’s neck.
She closed her eyes and remained motionless for a long moment.
The horse also stood perfectly still, ears pricked forward, warm brown eyes wide and staring both at nothing and everything.
Sil swayed when her eyes fluttered open, and I stepped forward to brace her.
“You all right?” I asked.
“Yeah. Sending an image or two is easy; going deeper makes my head spin. I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“Here, lean against the fence.” I waited a moment, then asked, “What did you see?”
“I started with the Healer, sending images of the woman in her blues. The horse returned feelings of intense warmth at first, then shifted to something akin to longing. She misses Tiana.”
“Makes sense.”
“I wasn’t sure what to try next, so I showed her visions of the empty house, mentally walking through each room. Fear replaced everything as panic welled inside her.”
“Did she send back anything? Any images, I mean?”
Sil nodded. “They were hazy, but I saw three men in simple shirts and trousers carrying furniture. Behind the men, there was something odd. I couldn’t make it out. Another man just stood there, watching the others work. He wore some sort of mask, like you might see at a masquerade ball,
but stranger. That’s all I saw before the horse broke our link.”
“Did the masked man wear a robe? A brown robe?”
Sil’s eyes widened. “Yes, he did. How did you know—”
“Stay focused. What else do you remember?”
Sil turned to the horse and spoke softly. “The man in the mask was odd. I mean, the mask was frightening enough, but it was clear the horse was afraid of him. I didn’t get the impression she knew him, but he definitely made her uncomfortable.”
“That’s all? Was there anything behind the man? Could you see a wagon? Maybe other horses?”
“There might’ve been a wagon,” Sil said. “There was something large, and I think I saw wheels, but it could’ve been anything. I couldn’t make it out very well.”
“All right. That’s more than we had before. Let’s take one last look around and then head back.”
A quick search revealed a barrel with feed grain beside the horse’s water trough, which Sil used to feed the hungry beast while I finished my inspection.
“Why would they pick this place clean? Nothing about this feels like a robbery,” I said aloud, more to myself than to Sil. “We’re running out of light. Let’s head back to HQ and see if the Freeport team reported anything.”
“What should we do with her horse? We can’t just leave her here.”
I glanced around, then nodded. “Have one of our men bring her with us. We’ll stable her until we learn more. Hopefully, we’ll be giving her back to Tiana soon.”
The next morning, I made my way to the HQ building. I was ushered through the giant doors where Albius sat reading from a stack of parchment. The Commander scribbled something on a page, then set it down and looked up.
“Anything?” he asked without preamble.
I detailed the visit to the infirmary and Tiana’s house. The only substantive lead was the “conversation” Sil had with Tiana’s horse.
Albius’s chair creaked as he sat back.
“I would think this was little more than a robbery if we didn’t have the link to the Children popping up everywhere.”
“Agreed, sir.” I nodded. “I’m not sure where we go from here, though. The road to the Healer’s house is so well traveled that Sil doesn’t believe we’ll find a trail, and she’s the best tracker we’ve got. Atikus should make contact soon regarding the Freeport investigation.
I’d like to visit the Arch Mage again and see if he has any other ideas.”
“Of course. Report back this afternoon,” Albius said, dismissing me.
I crossed the river to the Mages’ Compound and filled the Arch Mage in. At the mention of Sil’s communication with the horse, Quin perked up. “Now that’s interesting.”
“Really? How so?”
“Wait here.” Quin bolted from his chair and called to his clerk. “Jon, have Daris join us in my office, please.”
Moments later, a Mage of indeterminate middle age peeked through the doorway. His thinning hair was losing the battle to mask his balding scalp. “You asked for me, Arch Mage?”
“Daris, don’t stand there gawking. Come in.” Quin waved his hand in a harried gesture. “Any chance you can scry using a living animal? Say, a horse?”
Daris scratched his head, disturbing the careful swirl and revealing even more skin.
“I guess. I’ve never done it before . . . and I don’t know what we’ll get. Living emotions and thoughts jumble when mixed with scrying magic . . . and animals don’t think or hold memories in chronological order. They live in the moment. The horse may give us something from years ago or an hour past,
depending on which is stronger in the animal’s mind in that moment. If there’s a strong enough emotional tie between a beast and human, we might simply get emotions the animal has for its owner. It could be fun to try, though. Why do you ask?”
“The missing Healer situation. You tried scrying for her a few days ago. Lieutenant Rea found her horse. A Natural linked to it and Communed.”
“Really? I didn’t know we had any who could Commune in Saltstone.”
Daris’s face lit up. “That’s a twist. If the Natural were to join in the scrying, it might get us more information, better images. Think of the Natural as a focus relic, but in human form. They would sharpen whatever we received from the animal.”
He thought a moment, then added, “We’d also have someone who understands animal communication, like a translator of sorts. That’s definitely helpful.”
Quin asked, “So it could work?”
“Theoretically, yes.” Daris bobbed his head. “It could work.”
“Keelan, I think this is worth a shot, but it’s not without risks. Scrying magic is unpredictable and often unstable.” Quin tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes. “It will be up to you whether that’s worth it.”
“Risks? What kind of risks?”
“The horse and the Natural would be in the direct flow. Emotions can become intense in any scrying. Headaches are common, sometimes nosebleeds, lingering sleeplessness. Add a horse and another person to the link, and there’s no way to guess what could happen.
I don’t believe there’s any danger of lasting damage to either of them, if that helps you make a decision.”
It wasn’t a call I had been expecting to make. I glanced between Quin and Daris, who still hovered in the doorway. After a few heartbeats, I nodded slowly, “Let’s lay it all out for Sil and let her decide. She’ll be the one taking the risk. When can you be ready?”
“It shouldn’t take long to set things up. By the time you return, we should be ready,” Daris said.
A couple of hours passed before Sil, the horse, and I strode into the Arch Mage’s office, earning confused looks from passing Mages.
We drew even more bemused stares when we ushered the horse through the entrance of the tower and struggled up the winding stairs.
The horse’s hooves sounded like thunder clapping against the stone, but Sil kept her calmed and peaceful.
The circular scrying room at the tower’s peak held a handful of simple chairs set against the walls.
In the center stood a pedestal with a shallow silver bowl fixed to its top.
On the floor surrounding the pedestal, concentric circles of pearly stone encased a ring of magical symbols inlaid in alternating gold and silver, reminding me of other magical markings throughout the Mages’ Compound.
Quin and Daris greeted us as we entered the room. “Please, bring the horse inside the circle.”
Once everyone was in position, Quin poured the contents of a pitcher into the bowl. The horse tilted her head to the side and snorted.
Daris addressed Sil. “Place your hand on the horse—it doesn’t matter where—and don’t remove it until we’re finished. The flow of magic may make her jumpy, and we’ll need you to keep her calm. I’ll hold your other hand to create the link between the three of us.
I have no idea what we might see or feel. You may experience strange sensations through your Gift. When I stop chanting, maintain contact, keep your eyes closed, and tell us what you see and feel. I will need to concentrate on the casting, so the Arch Mage will guide you.”
Sil did as instructed, and the Mage took her hand.
He closed his eyes and began muttering. As he swayed from side to side, the water in the scrying bowl rippled, calmly at first, then violently enough to splash over the rim.
The horse danced nervously, ears flicking and eyes going wide.
Sil touched her forehead to the horse’s neck, and the beast calmed.
Vague images materialized in the bowl’s water as the ripples settled into a placid pool. At first, the pictures were so faded that all I could make out were colors and rough shapes that changed every few seconds.
Daris chanted a melodic phrase, and the images sharpened.
I leaned forward, craning my neck to get a better look.
A view of the back of Tiana’s house from a distance.
A huge silver stallion.
Tiana’s face.
Daris stopped chanting.
“Sil, what do you see?” Quin asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shivered. When she spoke, her voice sounded far away, like she was standing at the other end of a long hallway.
“The horse’s emotions are so strong. I can feel them racing through my chest.”
“What do you feel?” Quin asked.
“Longing and loneliness. Spirits, it’s overwhelming. I can see Tiana’s face, but the images change too fast . . . it’s like trying to grab smoke.”
“Take deep breaths. Relax and let it come to you,” Quin soothed.
“I’ll try to go deeper into her mind.” Sil’s body suddenly convulsed, and she cried out. “Oh, Spirits. It’s so strong. Make it stop! Please!”
I wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright, but Quin motioned for me to stay silent. Sil was trembling, a leaf caught in a gale.
The images in the scrying bowl shifted so rapidly that it was impossible to process one before the next appeared.
Splashes of color.
Bright, then dark.
The horse.
A man.
A mask.
Tiana.
“Come on, just a little further,” Sil muttered as her body shook. She turned her head to the side and pressed a cheek to the horse once more. The scent of alfalfa wafted through the room.
Visions reappeared in the water.
Men stripping Tiana’s house bare.
A campfire in a field.
The men again.
The images shifted, and the scrying water splashed as though a stone had fallen in its center, then calmed to stillness.
“I can smell pine. It’s everywhere,” Sil whispered. I drew her against me as she shivered again. “I see a face. He’s looking for something. He . . . he was there. I saw him. His eyes were so—”
Then everything stopped.
The visions vanished.
The water quieted.
Sil’s consciousness fled, and her full weight slumped against my arms.
Her body shook violently as she muttered urgently, pleading over and over as tears flooded her face. Her cries swelled into screams. “Save me. Please. Save me. I’m right here in front of you! Don’t go! PLEASE!”