The arms holding her tightened, and Rennyn looked up. Captain Illuma, faintly luminescent in the moonlight. There were others: Danress, Faille, and Illuma’s partner Vesan. Waiting patiently for her return.
"How many dead?" Rennyn asked, struggling to control herself.
"Three," Captain Illuma replied, and started walking out of the crater. "But few escaped without injury."
Looking around, Rennyn was surprised there hadn’t been more deaths. "The shield didn’t contain the blast?"
"The shield was the blast," Lieutenant Danress explained. "Some kind of spell which converted the shield’s energy. You were a long time returning."
"Yes." It was a dry little word, and Rennyn closed her eyes to push away the sudden roil in her stomach. "Solace’s second son calls himself Helecho, and he is enjoying himself far too much. I don’t think the intention was to kill me, though. He didn’t even try to take my focus, and he could have very easily. A taunting kind of creature, this uncle of mine. Playing games."
They had reached flatter ground, so Rennyn slid free of Captain Illuma’s hold, concentrating as tightly as she could on business, on what must be done. "I learned a couple of things. He’s at a disadvantage in terms of power. He can’t have summoned a focus of his own, perhaps is unable to without coming to this world first. So though his castings might be technically skilled, there’s a limit to the scope of them."
"Broad enough." Danress' voice was bitter.
"He’s nigh-undetectable in the Eferum," Rennyn continued. "So I will change my approach there. I think I should be able to avoid another ambush. What do the Hand say about using the shield again?"
"They debate the point," Illuma said, leading the way toward the drive. "And will put the question to the Grand Magister."
Rennyn nodded, then retreated into silence for the walk to the coaches and the ride to the nearby village. She was tired, cold, hungry, and had been…wounded. And three more people were dead. Just for the night, she wanted a way to stop thinking. She wanted her father.
"Why are you frightened?"
Startled, Rennyn looked up. She hadn’t even noticed the coach draw to a halt, or the door open. Captain Faille was a pearl-tipped shadow blocking the way out. "What?" she asked, not equal to any better answer.
In the pause before he responded Rennyn could hear the sounds of people moving about, of horses. They’d reached the inn the Hand had commandeered.
"You are perhaps not so arrogant as you pretend," Captain Faille said finally, in his soft, attenuated voice. "But you are secure in your abilities. You did not so much as flinch when we met at Finton. During the incursion in Asentyr your plans were completely overset, and that casting was one which had every likelihood of killing you. It barely made you hesitate. In Surclere, this second son’s existence was simply a new factor to include in your calculations. But now you are frightened. Why?"
Rennyn stared, resenting the uniform which hid so much of his face, and the lighting which always conspired to make Kellian impossible to read. Surely she could not be so transparent as he made it sound. How much more had he seen? He was risky, more dangerous than she’d realised. But, all the same, the question deserved an answer.
"I was raised to do everything I could to stop Solace," she said. "Or to die trying. I’m used to that idea. But I never pictured anything but a quick death. The idea of being…brutalised by this son of Solace, that is new to me." Her skin crawled at unwanted memory, and she pressed her lips together to control them.
A slight shift of position was all of his response, and then he stepped aside. Rennyn escaped upstairs, to the room she’d left her bags in hours ago. A tray of food had been set out waiting but, hungry as she was she couldn’t face it, and stood by the fire clenching her fists. Frightened. It was true. It was what that gloating snake had been trying to achieve.
A tap at the door broke into her angry thoughts, and Rennyn turned a less than pleasant expression on the two maidservants who opened it.
"You ordered a bath, M’Lady?" the first girl asked uncertainly, balancing one end of a large tin tub.
Rennyn hadn’t, but realised it was precisely what she needed and nodded stiffly, then went to the food tray and forced herself to eat while the maids carried in bucket after bucket of steaming water.
Captain Faille saw entirely too much.
Chapter Twelve
The stables of the Houses of Magic were crowded, for most of the Sentene had returned to Asentyr ahead of Rennyn’s small party. Re-grouping to lick their wounds and make new plans. The undoing of the shield had been a bad blow.
"Can you tell Lady Weston I’d like to talk to her when she’s free?" Rennyn asked, lugging her bags out of the coach.
"Of course," Lieutenant Danress replied, not managing to hide a flash of curiosity. Rennyn saw her give Captain Faille a quick glance, but the man only turned to remove his overlong sword from the second coach.
"I’ll be with my brother." Rennyn wandered off, cheating a little with the weight of the bags. She hadn’t slept and was still very tired, but felt herself again. So long as she didn’t think too much.
Asking about, she was directed to a small room in the Sentene’s building. "I see you’re making good use of the library," she said.
"Ren!" Seb jumped to his feet and hugged her tight.
She was glad of it, holding him close for a long moment before she let him pull away.
"You look terrible."
"Thanks. Have you heard much of what’s been happening?"
"Hardly. They see me as babysitting, nothing more. The way they moved me this morning, I had a feeling they needed the infirmary."
"Yes." Rennyn cleared a few books from the bed, then took him through the events of the past few days. The excitement died from his eyes, but then he frowned and shook his head.
"It shouldn’t make any difference, really. Well, not to our plans, though if we think of any way to help the Sentene with the incursions, we could make a few suggestions. But – this Helecho – do you think he’s as loyal a son as Tiandel?"
Seb was always quick to the vital points. "The Summoning will be taking most of her concentration, so that…creature gives her a free agent. Whether he was supposed to come through a breach himself and work from this side, or whether this invasion attempt was even part of her plans, that I can’t guess. The Eferum may have changed her to the point where having a horde of Eferum-Get loose in Asentyr is acceptable to her."
"If he’s making a play of his own, he’ll not want her to complete the Summoning. Which would be reason enough to not kill you when he had the chance. It may mean things won’t play out as we expect." He looked at her anxiously.
"Possible, I suppose." Rennyn sighed. "Though there’s no proof he’s not acting on her instructions. Either way, he’s a nasty creature."
"Ren…"
"Mm?"
"The way this ends–"
"I know. I’ll try my best." She clasped his hand, forestalling anything else he might say in this place where anyone could be listening. "How are your treatments going?"
"The worst is gone, but it’ll be a couple of weeks yet before I’m clear of it. I’m clumsy, can’t write properly, and if I stand up too long I go all shaky. In a way – in a way I’m glad it happened, that I came here."
"Yes." Rennyn looked down at her hands. "It’s better to face some things, isn’t it? No matter the complications."
"Speaking of which – I may have been a little tactless." With a certain amount of relish he told her of an encounter with the royal heirs.