The northwest of Tyrland climbed into mountains and forests and what was once the Duchy of Surclere. It had a grand and lofty air, and a habit of producing waterfalls unexpectedly around corners. The roads were fantastically bad.
Even with enchantments the jolting made it very hard to read, and impossible to write, so Rennyn spent her time staring out the coach window. It had taken more than a day and a half to travel from the third incursion point to this far into the mountains, and she was weary of the journey. She had long loved this part of Tyrland, but today its isolation just felt inconvenient.
They drew to a halt beside the worn remnants of a wall, barely visible beneath a rampant mass of morning glory. The tracery of a road danced down through a sunlit valley, disappearing before it reached the tumble of stones forming the outline of a building. A pair of spiralling birds were the only sign of movement.
"Surclere Manor," said one of the Ferumguard, as Rennyn climbed out of the coach. Her escort had been reduced to six Ferumguard and the four Sentene whose primary task was keeping her alive: Meniar, Faral, Faille and Danress. "We’ll not be getting the coaches down there. The horses should manage."
"The road’s fallen away completely in a couple of places," Rennyn said, slipping the strap of her smaller bag over her shoulder. "It’s a nearly two hour walk."
"You’ve been here before, then?" Danress asked.
"I summoned my first focus here." She gazed across the valley. "I knew I’d need to know the place."
Lieutenant Faral, a female Kellian of particularly willowy proportions, was examining the ground by the wall. "No sign of recent tracks. But this is only the obvious approach."
Captain Faille nodded, and with a brief hand gesture assigned two of the Ferumguard to remain behind. Rennyn had yet to see him even move without reason, let alone speak unnecessarily. But, like all the Sentene, he got things done quickly. She did not have to wait long while they prepared, and they soon started down the ancient road.
It was wonderfully quiet. Wind, and the occasional call of birds. The loudest thing was the crunch of their boots. This area had never been precisely populous, but it had withered after Surclere Manor had burned. The village further into the mountains had faded altogether, and the one they’d passed on the way had been less than prosperous. But the people owned a remote pride, and had watched with heads held high as the Sentene passed.
The walk helped clear her mind. There were times when Rennyn found the plan too much, when her certainty faltered and she doubted her resolution to end this. The screaming of the Eferum-Get had unsettled her. They were monsters, and they ate people. Their existence in Tyrland was an obvious wrong. But they still felt pain.
Her greatest issue was the effectiveness of the cage. If she had chosen to work with the Sentene from the start, the disaster in Asentyr might have been completely contained. Over a thousand people. She had always known that people would very likely die, but with every passing day she wanted a new solution, one which was safe, sure, and without cost.
All she could do was remember what she’d said to Seb. If she could prevent someone’s death she would. It was a simple pledge, but she murmured it to herself as she led the Sentene along one side of the manor’s remains toward the summoning circle.
"Wait."
Startled, Rennyn turned to Captain Faille. He was gazing at the circle through narrowed eyes, then reached slowly over his head and drew the sword he had strapped to his back. The other Sentene and Ferumguard followed his lead, though Rennyn doubted they could see whatever had made him suspicious. She certainly couldn’t, and there was no sense of casting.
But – tilting her head to one side, she tried to puzzle it out. Not casting, not the sense of Efera being worked, but there was a kind of current, a thing she was more used to feeling in the Eferum. A distortion.
The Sentene split into pairs and spread to either side, with the Ferumguard forming a loose semi-circle behind them. Both Danress and Meniar had their slates out. Rennyn scanned the area. The summoning circle had been in a separate, smaller building near the main house, and sat a little lower on the hill’s slope. With the walls gone, and dirt creeping past the edges of tumbled stone, the exposed floor looked like a white pool. Trees had grown around it, but she couldn’t see anyone hiding in the dappled shade.
Then one of the shadows laughed. Rennyn glimpsed a shape, the line of a shoulder, of a man sitting with his back against one of the larger blocks of stone.
"A Montjuste-Surclere with a Kellian bodyguard. I do like irony."
The words dragged and echoed unnaturally. The figure shifted again, and through him Rennyn could see moss-covered stone, and a fragment of fern.
"It’s – some kind of illusion, Captain," said Meniar.
"Truly, the blood has weakened. Following that traitor’s course without deviation. So predictable, so unoriginal."
Dropping the makings of a Thought-shield she’d instinctively drawn, Rennyn walked forward and stared at the man in the shadows. Black hair, black eyes. A heart-shaped face, delicately made. She could feel the distortion more clearly as she came closer, but there was none of the stamp and scent of worked Efera. He turned his head to study her, the motion oddly too quick and too slow, the black eyes full of mockery and malice.
"A projection," she said, scarcely believing her own words. "It’s a projection out of the Eferum."
"Not entirely dull-witted, then. Come closer, little cousin. I want to look at you."
She wanted to look at him too, but she only circled a short way to her right to get a better angle.
"You will not object, I hope, if I name you cousin? A few too many greats to describe the proper relationship."
Rennyn narrowed her eyes. "You look like your brother," she said, and was rewarded with a sudden flash of fury. He moved incautiously, and the entire projection flickered out of existence for several moments, then returned.
Back in control, he reassumed his air of pleasant malice. "Different enough," he said. "Far less dead, at any rate. The shield was unsporting, little cousin. Did your friends not feel equal to the hunt?"
"Have you anything of interest to say, or are you merely here to talk at me?"
His mouth curved up, wider than it should. "I’m going to enjoy you." He leaned forward, almost as if he meant to approach her, adding: "Shall I tell you something useful? Change your tactics."
Before Rennyn had to think of a response he was gone, the sense of distortion fading to nothing. A bird called, and the drone of insects rose as if to underline their previous absence. Rennyn stared at an innocuous rocky stone, then sighed and found a different one to serve as a seat.
"Well, that was unexpected."
"I – you have a gift for understatement," Lieutenant Danress' voice wavered, then she shook her head and allowed the spell she’d been holding back to dissipate. "The brother you were talking about–?"
"Tiandel." Rennyn felt light-headed, and worked to adjust. "We have a portrait of him."
"How does this effect your plans?" asked Captain Faille, not one to waste time exclaiming.
"It’s always been the differences between the first iteration of the Grand Summoning and the current which have posed the greatest risk. I can’t say any of my family ever predicted that Solace would bear a child to – whatever it is she’s allied herself with. This confirms, at least, that the size of these incursions is no coincidence. In terms of attuning the younger focus – if their purpose is to stop me, it means they know every step, and are no doubt able to calculate the locations as we did."