Anne Bishop - Sebastian

The stranger’s fate was in the hands of the wizards now. He couldn’t help the man, wasn’t even sure if he could help himself at this point. He had to get his wife and children out of the city before tomorrow’s sunset, along with whatever household goods they could take with them in the big merchant wagon that had belonged to Aldys’s father.

But where were they supposed to go? And who could he ask about other landscapes whose answer he could trust?

As if pulled by an invisible string, Dalton’s head turned in the direction of the detention rooms.

There was one person who might know.

A quick glance around the courtyard. Addison was standing by the wrought-iron gate that led to the street. No sign of Guy or Henley. They must have gone back to the barracks.

Dalton headed for that part of the courtyard, walking past the locked doors and shuttered windows of the detention rooms until he came to the last one. When he’d left the prisoner there, he’d noticed a fist-sized piece of window glass had been broken out of the farthest window. Maybe the last person who had been detained in that room had broken the glass in a futile effort to escape. Or maybe he’d been desperate to hear something besides the silence of his own heart. Whatever the reason, the opening was there, and Dalton thanked the Guides of the Heart for this chance to talk to the man.

He leaned against the wall, close to that corner of the shuttered window. “Psst. Can you hear me?” He kept his voice low to avoid being overheard by anyone who might pass by. If another guard saw him, he could say he was keeping watch on the prisoner. But if a wizard noticed him, he had no doubt he’d be occupying another of those locked rooms and would never see his wife and children again.

A shuffling sound. The thump of someone collapsing against the wall.

“What do you want?” The voice sounded rough, exhausted.

What did he want? To go back to that moment when the stranger had stumbled off the bridge. To have a chance to follow the gut feeling he’d had when he’d seen Koltak step off the bridge.

“If I could do it over, I would have let you escape and go back to wherever you came from.”

“Why?”

“When Koltak stepped off the bridge, everything felt wrong. He felt wrong. You didn’t.” And you didn’t use the lightning to harm my men. You could have. Any wizard here would have. “What you said to Koltak about the Eater of the World. Is it true?”

Silence. Then, “It’s true.”

Not much time. Someone could come along at any moment. “I’ve been exiled from the city. I have to get my family to another landscape. Is there any place I can take them where they’ll be safe?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I don’t think you would harm the innocent. Whatever wrong I did you by following orders, my family is innocent.”

A long silence. “Heart’s hope lies within Belladonna. Her landscapes…the only safe places. Resonating bridge…might get you…to one of them. But if the wizards destroy her…no hope at all. For anyone.”

He had to go. He’d already lingered too long. But…“I’m sorry for the part I played in this.”

Another silence.

As Dalton stepped away from the window, he heard, “Travel lightly.”

Addison was still waiting for him when he reached the gate.

“Best not to linger here, Cap’n,” Addison said. “This place has got a bad feel to it today. More than usual.”

“I’m not your captain,” Dalton said as he opened the gate and walked out. “I’ve been exiled.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble of it, but I can’t say I’m sorry you’ll be going.” Addison shook his head and sighed. “Maybe this is just the Guardians’ way of telling you it’s time to go.”

Maybe, Dalton thought. But deep down in his heart, he didn’t think his exile had anything to do with the Light.

Sebastian shuffled back to the wobbly table and chair, the only pieces of furniture in the room. No candle or oil lamp. The slats in the closed shutters let in a little daylight, but this room would hold a bleak darkness once the sun went down.

Bracing his hands on the table, he lowered himself into the chair and waited until he felt fairly steady before reaching for the canteen of water—and wondered if the guard captain had provided the water as a kindness. He took a mouthful of water, then closed the canteen and set it aside. Shutting his eyes, he sat very still, waiting for the pain in his head to subside again to a dull throb.

Daylight, he hurt! But despite the lump on his head and the shallow cut from the first blow that had soaked part of his hair with blood, he didn’t think he was badly injured. Hurt, certainly, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him that couldn’t be put right with a headache powder and some sleep.

Except for the feeling of rough fingers lightly scratching inside his head. Except for the whispering voices that were close enough for him to hear but too far away for him to make out what they were saying—voices that seemed to creep closer whenever his mind lost focus.

Could wizards do that? Creep into a mind? Was that the way they determined whether someone was truly innocent? Not by the questions that were asked for the sake of formality, but by this intrusion?

He wouldn’t be able to keep them out forever. His body craved sleep—and sleep would leave him vulnerable to the voices. The light scratching would become a torment soon. But he could choose now what those voices would find when they finally breached his mind and what would stay hidden in the core of his heart.

He should have insisted on having an hour to consider Koltak’s request/command/plea. He should have given himself that hour to consider the good and bad of leaving the Den to come to Wizard City. If he had, he would have realized what had troubled him about Koltak’s journey to the Den.

Koltak had wanted him as bait for a trap but hadn’t really wanted to find him, because Koltak had never wanted to be around him. Ephemera had responded to that heart conflict by making the journey difficult.

That was what had troubled him—the fact that Koltak had spent days trying to find the Den. But the words “to save Ephemera” had swept away the thought before it could form, before it could become solid enough to resist being influenced.

Sebastian opened his eyes and stared at the wall. Was that what Koltak had done? Influenced his decision with the plea to save the world? But he hadn’t felt this scratching, this sense of intrusion.

Maybe that was why the council had chosen Koltak. Maybe there was enough similarity in resonance between a father and son, despite their animosity, that he wouldn’t sense the intrusion. When Koltak talked about saving the world, the words had rung true.

Liar. Deceiver. Raper of truth.

If Ephemera truly gave each person what the heart deserved, Koltak would receive the reward of his ambitions—and the reward would be bitter.

Now wasn’t the time to think about Koltak. While he could, he had to take what was most precious to him and hide it away, deep inside his heart…where the wizards would never find her.

He didn’t dare let her name echo in his mind, but he pictured her—the blue eyes, the wavy brown hair, the expressive face that looked the most innocent when she was trying to learn how to be naughty. How she looked wearing that catsuit. How she felt when he made love with her.

His rabbit, who was changing a little more every day into a tigress.

For a moment he could feel her resonating inside him. Then he tucked away all his memories, all his feelings for her.

Glorianna wouldn’t come for him. He didn’t want her to come for him. There was too much at stake to throw it away trying to save one man.