Achan would never sign a treaty with the Hamartano family, for he didn't trust them to keep it. Not that he had accepted his role in this king business. But trust would have to be earned before he made a treaty with anyone.
Sparrow flitted to the front of his thoughts. "Sir Gavin." Achan lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't trust Sparrow."
"Vrell? Why ever not?"
"Trivial things, really, that add up to something amiss. Last night as I bedded down I overheard him crying, saying he 'couldn't do this anymore' and wanted to go home. Then, when the giants attacked, I overheard him bloodvoice his mother-and she bloodvoiced back. When I confronted him, he lied. And I know that woman spoke to me when I first found my bloodvoice."
"Most strange. But if Vrell can bloodvoice, 'tis logical one of his parents can."
"But he's a stray. He swears his parents are dead."
Sir Gavin inhaled a long breath through his nose, perhaps joined to a wild animal's mind as it hunted. "I'll talk to him."
Part 2. Enemies
6
Vrell stumbled over rocky soil. "Sir Gavin? Achan?" Where had they gone? She stretched out her hands, afraid of walking into a sharp branch. The darkness pressed against her skin, her very eyes. "Hello?"
"Here, my lady."
The familiar hiss of Khai Mageia's voice chased a chill up Vrell's arms. How had he found her? She stopped, turned, scanning the darkness for any hint of light.
A heavy hand grabbed her shoulder, and Khai's voice growled in her ear, "Surprise!"
Vrell sucked in a breath that reached to her toes. Her eyes flashed opened to reveal Sir Caleb's shaggy head bent over her.
"Wh-What? Is it Khai?"
"No. It's time to rise, Vrell. We must get moving."
Joyful heart! It was only another dream. Heart still pounding, Vrell rolled up her bed and set it and her satchel on the edge of camp. Keeping the torchlight in view, she crept away to her own private privy as the knights packed up.
Darkness sickened her. How many more twisted visions would stress her heart? Everything was dead, useless for food or medicinal purposes. And how long could she keep her secret without being caught? Achan already suspected her of lying. If she was not careful, he would suspect her of treason, as well. His animosity burned into her mind like standing too near a blazing fire. She hoped he would let his suspicions go. Though he would not make a very wise king if he did.
But maybe Achan had already acted on his suspicions. Yesterday, when he fell, it was clear Sir Gavin had been training him in bloodvoicing. Excluding Vrell. Did Sir Gavin distrust her? Did he want to keep her from learning the technique he had been teaching Achan?
She could see the logic, no matter how vexing. Had she been in Sir Gavin's boots, she would do the same. Who was she to them? A stray healer who had recently left the service of their enemy. Not exactly a person to trust. The tops of her ears tickled. She pressed her hands over them as her mother's knock came again.
Lady Nitsa Amal.
A tear rolled down Vrell's cheek. She held the curtain in place around her mind, keeping Mother blocked out. Oh, how she wanted to tell Mother everything. But Achan had overheard them last night. Uncertain whether it had been Vrell's error or Achan's strength, she could not risk it again.
She relieved herself as quickly as possible, holding her breath and trembling, keeping her vision locked onto the torch glow back at camp. She finished and started back, squeezing between two pitchy branches.
Why not confess? Certainly they would understand. Achan respected Bran and would likely be honored to watch over his friend's betrothed. But so many had lied to Achan, tricked him, used him. She could not bear Achan thinking ill of her, even for a moment.
Yet he thought ill of her now. An explanation might clear everything up.
No. She wiped the tear away. Achan suspected Vrell Sparrow, the nearly fifteen-year-old stray boy who did not exist. He knew nothing of Lady Averella Amal, the seventeen-year-old woman in hiding, and it would stay that way. If Lady Averella ever met Achan, it would be under vastly different circumstances.
Her ears tickled again. Lady Nitsa Amal.
A twig snapped behind Vrell. She whirled around. How she hated this horrible place! The idea of creatures she could not see lurking…
Crack.
Vrell froze, straining to hear further noise. Something was out there.
Not caring what branches scratched her, she ran back to the rocky clearing. Sir Gavin hoisted Inko's pack up over the Barthian's shoulders. Achan stood gaping at Sir Caleb, who was showing off with his sword and shield.
Vrell considered mentioning the sound, but a sudden green spark flew over her head and stopped above the clearing, swelling into a glowing orb.
Achan drew his sword and held it before his face.
"Circle up!" Sir Gavin backed into the clearing, eyes fixed on the trees.
The urgency in the old knight's voice trilled Vrell's heart. More ebens? Or could this be another illusion Darkness conjured to snare her?
Sir Caleb pulled Achan between him and Sir Gavin and lifted his blade toward the forest. Inko shrugged off his pack and bow. A second and third orb shot out from the trees. The three knights turned their backs to Achan, blocking him in.
"Boy!" Inko waved Vrell forward as two more sparks flew above her head. She scurried toward the men. Inko pulled her inside with Achan.
The orbs formed a wide circle overhead, hovering and lighting the rocky clearing with a green glow.
"What is it?" Achan asked.
Inko drew his sword. "Sakin Magos."
But Sir Gavin's translation meant more to Vrell. "Black knights."
She sucked in a sharp breath. Her father had spoken of such mages when she was little. In fact, it was rumored at court that Sir Nongo-
A knight clad in black armor stalked out from the forest and stopped under one of the eerie orbs. Another knight advanced, identical to the first. Vrell clutched Achan's arm and twisted around to see five knights circling them, each standing under an orb.
Achan squeezed between Inko and Sir Caleb and raised Eagan's Elk. "Best draw your sword, Sparrow. This is no time to let fear win."
Vrell's hand flitted around her waist until it landed on the hilt of her sword. She had owned the weapon for only two days and had no idea how to use it. Still, the pointed piece of metal was better than nothing.
"Be wary of their appearance." Sir Gavin rocked from foot to foot. "They can be both illusion and solid."
Impressive illusion. The green light cast a sinister glow over the black armor. It had the dreamlike quality of some of Vrell's nightmares, but none of those had lasted this long before switching streams. This had to be a real attack.
"We are coming only for the marked one," one of the knights said in a thick accent. Barthian? "We are having no quarrel with any other."
"If you take our prince, you start a quarrel," Sir Caleb said. "So we might as well save ourselves time in chasing you down and fight now."
The black knight drew his sword. "Then be letting us fight."
An oily voice from Vrell's left yelled, "Phaino takmak!"
A gowzal's cry split the night. A green speck flew from one of the orbs and swelled, taking the shape of the flying rat bird and soaring toward Sir Gavin.
"Ignore it!" Sir Gavin shouted.
The black knights advanced. Five against three, they were evenly matched only if she and Achan fought. Achan had already made his choice-he could certainly hold his own. But Vrell did not know what to do.