"And what of Martris Drayke?" Taru pressed.
Kiara looked at her cup as she thought about that answer. "Tris promised me that if he takes the throne, Margolan will pose no threat to Isencroft," she said softly. "And that he will send whatever help he can."
Taru nodded once more. "You did not completely answer my question. What have you learned about Martris Drayke himself?"
Kiara blushed and looked away. "He is an honorable man, a brave man, a man of his word. He would make a good king."
Taru fixed Kiara with the considered stare of a teacher. "Would you have believed those things possible of Jared Drayke's brother, had you not traveled beside him?"
"No. I don't think so."
Taru looked at her appraisingly. "And what of your other reason for making the Journey? Your private reason?"
Kiara exchanged glances with Carina, embarrassed. "You mean to avoid the arranged marriage?"
"Yes."
"I know for certain just what a demon Jared Drayke is, and what forces are aligning against him," Kiara said quietly. "I have Tris's promise that nothing will be required of Isencroft by force."
"What did you think to find here, Kiara of Isencroft?" Taru said, gently reproving. "Were you expecting a talisman or a magic book?" Kiara blushed scarlet and said nothing. "You gain pledges of alliance and protection for Isencroft from Dhasson and Margolan, and likely Principality. You are at the center of the effort to bring down Jared Drayke and defeat Arontala—which must succeed to save your father. And you have won a chance for freedom—both for Isencroft and for yourself."
Taru's expression softened. "I am not unfamiliar with the language of kings. There is something more you might consider. Such an arrangement may be referred to as between Kiara and Jared, but the formalities would have matched the daughter of Donelan to the heir to the throne of Margolan. Once Jared Drayke is deposed, that heir becomes Martris Drayke," she said, amusement in her eyes at Kiara's surprise. "You are now free to follow your heart."
"We're really just good friends," Kiara stammered, embarrassed at Taru's insight.
"The Oracle told you that from Margolan comes source and solution, did she not?"
"I just never thought that it would be the people and experiences of the Journey that would matter more than what I found at the end," Kiara said.
"You are not at the end, although your time in the Library is drawing to a close," Taru replied. "The Sisterhood is agreed that there is some role the Lady would have you play in the defeat of Arontala. Signs suggest that the effort will be more difficult—or perhaps fail entirely—if your part goes unplayed."
"Sweet Chenne," Kiara whispered. "I thought about going on to Margolan with Tris and the others—Carina's resolved that she must. I wasn't sure whether I could leave Isencroft that long."
"Isencroft cannot afford to have you leave this thing undone," Taru replied.
"I heard Mikhail and Jonmarc talking with Tris," Carina told Kiara. "They want to get on the road before the snows fall. Mikhail says there are Margolan troops within a few candlemarks, in small groups. Assassins." Kiara shuddered. "We're getting boxed in. I'm surprised we haven't left before this."
"There is one more thing Tris must finish, before you can leave," said Taru. "He is ready to enter the crypt of King Argus. Argus's sword, Mageslayer, must be won in combat."
"Taru has asked me to be on hand, when he goes," added Carina.
"To put him back together again if he fails?" "If he fails, he won't come back, Kiara. That's the price," said Carina. "No one who has sought the sword has ever returned. Taru wants me there because we don't know what kind of shape he'll be in if he succeeds."
Kiara could think of no reply, and so she looked back out the window. Carina's words echoed in her mind, even after the healer and the sorceress had said goodnight and left her to her thoughts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Although Tris said nothing to his companions about the quest for Mageslayer, he suspected that Carina had told the tale. On the day he was to go into the crypt, his friends lingered with him at lunch, as if unsure of what to say. Berry kissed him on the cheek for luck. Carroway looked sober, clapping Tris on the shoulder and wishing him the favor of the lady. Carina reassured him that she and Royster would be waiting, then took leave to gather up her medicines.
Kiara hung back, as did Vahanian. "Carina told us... about Mageslayer," Kiara confessed, avoiding his gaze. "Please be careful."
Tris dared to take her hand, and lightly kissed it. "I have a lot of reasons to come back," he said, meeting her eyes. She blushed and murmured a blessing before leaving.
There was silence for a moment between Tris and Vahanian. "Stupidest thing I've ever heard— a duel without taking a second with you," Vahanian said finally. "I can't be much of a bodyguard from up here."
Tris smiled wanly. "I have a favor to ask," he said, and dug into his pocket. He withdrew the pouch with King Harrol's seal, and to Vahanian's amazement, handed it to the mercenary.
"If I don't come back, I'm counting on you to get the others to safety," he said soberly. "I need your word that you will see them safe."
Vahanian turned the seal m his hand. "What makes you so sure I won't just take off and collect my pay?"
Tris met his eyes. "You won't."
Vahanian said nothing for a moment. "You have my word," he said finally. "But you'd better come back in one piece," he warned.
Tris chuckled. "Believe me, that's my plan." Then he offered Vahanian his hand, in the forearm clasp of brothers at arms. "Thank you," he said.
"We've got a long road ahead. Thank me when we're done."
From there, Tris made his way to the Library's small chapel, sacred to Principality's favored aspect of the One Goddess, in her guise as Lover, and her dark reflection, the Whore. As he had seen Soterius do on the eve of battle, he offered his sword for blessing before the flickering candles of the altar, and awkwardly made his peace. Although he hoped against hope that the Lady might favor him with some sign, as she had done in the crowd the night of the coup, no supernatural presence touched his magesense.
Sweet Lady, he prayed. Honor my quest and let me win the sword. But if you will not, then honor the cries of your lost children in Margolan, and bring some other justice.
He waited, but the chapel remained silent save for the sound of his own breathing. Finally, he sheathed his sword, and made the sign of the Lady as he rose, hoping for a few hours' sleep before it was time to go.
Tris, Taru and Royster made their way at the eleventh bell to one of the small parlors on the first level of the Library. Royster tied a rope to an iron ring set into the massive stone fireplace, then let the rope out as he moved to the right of the hearth. His hand slid along the wooden paneling until they heard a faint click. A panel in the wall slid back, revealing stairs descending into blackness.
By torchlight, they went down a steep and crooked set of stone steps. As they descended, Royster let out the rope. They made their way down to the bottom of the stairs, into a small antechamber, at the end of which was a massive, ironbound door. Royster stopped. The darkness smelled of moldering cloth and wet ground, and the remnants of old magic prickled at the back of Tris's neck.
"This is the entrance to the tomb of King Argus," Royster said. "We can go no further." He paused. "One of us will watch for you at all times. If you cannot make it back up the stairs, pull on the rope. We will come for you."
Taru raised her hand in blessing, and murmured a prayer to the Lady. "Now go," she said. "And if Argus finds you worthy, return with the sword."