Jill Williamson: To Darkness Fled

A long silence passed, then the knights all spoke at once, as if eager to provide their future king with answers.

Sir Gavin tugged his beard braid. "It matters to Arman."

"Because it's showing thankfulness, respect," Inko said. "Without Arman's provisions, we wouldn't be having life."

"I thank him for all those things," Sir Caleb said.

Achan blew out a winded laugh. "Even leeches?"

"Leeches have their place in the world."

"Well, someone had better thank him for the meat, then, 'cause I'm starving."

Vrell hid a smile. How could Achan go from rudeness to acquiescence in a heartbeat and make it all harmless fun? She would never dare such boldness. And Achan had behaved that way as a stray. His nature had shocked her at first, but if she had been forced to serve Esek, she might have lost her patience quickly too.

Inko claimed the prayer. "Arman, we're thanking you for our lives, for safely delivering us from Esek's men, and for having given us this meat. Be helping us to be finding a way across the lake. In the name of your son, Caan, may it be so."

"So be it." Vrell lifted the greasy meat to her teeth and tore off an oily chunk. Her mouth watered at the smoky flavor. She stole a glance at Achan, and found his brow furrowed again. What was he thinking now? She dared not peek into his head. He would not be happy to find her there.

She studied the men around the torchlight. The dull green flame cast a pea soup fog over everyone, bringing out the worst in the Old Kingsguard knights. The flame glittered in Inko's pale eyes. With his grey, pockmarked skin and white hedge of hair, he looked dead. The green glow deepened Sir Gavin's wrinkles and grayed his white hair and braided beard. Even Sir Caleb, the youngest of the knights, in his mid-fifties, looked to have aged without the sun.

Only Achan's appearance benefited. Darkness shadowed his boyish features, straightened his posture, and broadened his shoulders. The torch cast a bronze glow over his brown skin and made his greasy black hair look silky. How could she have spent weeks healing his wounds and missed how much he resembled the Hadar family? But who would have thought a stray anything other than what he appeared to be? Vrell hoped the men would assume the same about her.

Sir Gavin jerked the torch from the ground and carried it to his bedroll. "Time to douse the lights. Everyone settled?"

No one complained, so Sir Gavin smothered the flame under the corner of the leather. Vrell edged back. The sudden darkness sent a prickle up her spine. She blinked, trying to see the men where she knew they were.

Sounds magnified in the dark. Fluttering. Clicking overhead. Steps across spongy ground. Sir Gavin, likely. Vrell hugged her knees to her chest. Would he sit with her?

Achan's voice rose above the subtle noises. "How long will we stay at Mirrorstone?"

"As little as possible without being rude." Sir Gavin's voice came from Vrell's left, where Sir Caleb's bedroll had been.

Good. She pressed her hands on the grimy leather and stretched out her legs. "And from there?"

"We look for a way to cross to the north shore. We'll fare best at Melas, rather than trying another boat."

"How far is that?" Achan asked.

"Another three days on foot. Two, if we can get horses."

Joyful heart! Horses would be merciful. Vrell still felt slimy from that water. She abhorred the stench of this place. She lifted her satchel off her neck and shoulder and opened it, looking for something pleasant to smell. Did herbs grow fresh in Darkness? Where would she find supplies for her healing kit if they didn't?

"You think Lord Eli will give us aid?" Achan asked.

"He has nothing to gain by refusing us," Sir Gavin said. "Either he'll arrest us and turn us over to Esek or he'll help us. He won't send us away."

Vrell sniffed a small bundle from her bag. Mentha. Mmm.

The mossy ground squished on her right. "Then we're risking everything to be going to him."

"We have no choice, Inko," Sir Caleb nearly yelled. "Surely you can see that much?"

"We should've been doubling back to Allowntown."

Sir Gavin sniffed in a long breath, as if to calm himself. "Esek will have men posted all along the Evenwall. We stand our best chance in Darkness."

Vrell inhaled another fresh breath of mentha. "How will we know we're not walking into a trap at Mirrorstone?" She still had not told anyone about the bounties Esek had offered for her and Achan's capture. She hated keeping secrets and not having a plan. If only she could speak with her mother.

"We won't," Sir Gavin said. "But I'll know his intentions as soon as I lay eyes on him."

"Can you teach me that?" Achan's mumble brought his injured cheeks to Vrell's mind. "I've always sensed emotions. Lord Nathak's tonic never doused my intuition. But I want to learn more. Sparrow showed me a few tricks, and-"

"I know little." Vrell's heart lifted at the idea of learning bloodvoicing from good men, not her maniacal old master, Macoun Hadar. "I should like to learn more, as well." Like how she could watch longer without blacking out and how to peek into gifted minds without being seen. Achan's mind.

"Think of your body as a fortress and yourself as its guard." Sir Caleb's voice drifted from Vrell's left. "Your duty is twofold. You must guard the fortress, allowing entry only to those you permit. Then, when you invite someone in, you must also guard the treasure, which is your mind. If you do this correctly, your guest may see only what you offer."

Vrell could do this already. She had a different way of accomplishing the same feat. She thought of her mind as a house and created a foyer in her mind where she let people in but kept them separated from her different rooms of thought.

"How do you do everything at once?" Achan asked. "When my mind is open, so many come at me. I can't keep them out and I'm tired of shielding all the time."

"You can and you must, Your Highness." Sir Caleb sounded nobler when giving orders. "No one can guard your mind for you. Either you learn to do this or you'll have to stay guarded always, never experiencing the fullness of your gift."

Vrell wished she could help Achan practice, but the knights had ordered him to keep his mind closed, for Achan's untrained bloodvoice rang like a beacon to anyone with the ability. Surely Esek had bloodvoicers monitoring for Achan's presence. Plus, unguarded, Achan's mind released a pressure that brought Vrell to her knees. She didn't miss the pain, but she did miss his sarcastic companionship.

A screech split the night. Vrell hugged her arms close. A mosquito buzzed nearby. She disliked the dark. "Sir Gavin?" She lifted her head. "We have been in Darkness for many hours and I entered the Evenwall the day Achan fought the Poroo. I feel fine, except for these accursed mosquitoes. So why do people say Darkness drives one insane?"

"That's the subtlety of it, Vrell. If your mind is focused or distracted, 'tis easy to ignore the seduction of Darkness. When you were alone in the Evenwall, you had a task to perform. Now we're conversing steadily. This keeps our minds from wandering. But as we journey through this place, we must stay together and we must have conversation. No one will keep watch alone. See that no one is silent too long. Darkness has a way of sneaking up and blinding you to your own conscience."

"What about when we sleep?" Achan asked.

"Bad dreams may come, but you won't lose your mind. Caleb and I will take first watch. Fear not and rest."

Vrell lay down on the greasy leather and curled into a ball, bringing her knees to her chest. Her body sank slowly into the wet lichen. She concentrated on Mother's face and knocked.

Still no answer.

Achan untied the bandage from his face. He lay on his back, ankles crossed, feet sticking off the end of the bedroll that was too short for his six-foot frame. He stared into the blackness above and traced his fingertips over the scabs forming on his cheeks where Esek had cut him. Would he bear these marks forever? If so, he would grow a beard, a thick one.