stiffened. “A pact.”
“A pact?” said Kylon.
“We’ll make a pact, you and I,” said Caina. “No matter what happens, we’ll be victorious. We’ll come back to Istarinmul.” Her voice trembled a little before she got it back under control. “Whoever gets back first will wait at the House of Agabyzus. If you get here first, wait for me.” She swallowed. “If I get back first, I’ll wait for you there until the stars go out and the sun turns to ash, I swear it.”
“I swear it, too,” said Kylon, gripping her hands.
For a long moment they stood there, her emotions washing over him with every beat of her heart.
But the moment was not long enough.
“We have to go,” said Caina.
“I know,” said Kylon. He forced himself to let go of her hands and step back. “Nasser and Laertes and I will get Sulaman and Lord Martin’s family out of the city. And then…”
“Wait,” said Caina, reaching for her pack. She tugged it off her shoulders and rummaged through it for a moment. “Wait…here!”
She straightened up and pushed a small leather pouch into his hand. Kylon opened it and saw crumpled lead foil. He pushed the foil aside, and the pale silvery glow of four vials of Elixir Restorata gleamed in the depths of the pouch, even as he felt the potent arcane power of the thick silver fluid in the crystalline vials.
“Four vials of Elixir Restorata,” said Caina. “Half of what’s left. If you need them. I hope you don’t. But if you do…”
“Thank you,” said Kylon, tucking the pouch away. “I will only use it if necessary.”
“I know,” said Caina. She closed her eyes for a moment, and seemed to pull herself together. “We had best go. If I don’t do it now, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Yes,” said Kylon, his voice a thick rasp in his throat.
He followed Caina to the street where the others waited. Without a word she set off in a run for the Alqaarin Harbor, Annarah and Morgant hurrying after her. Kylon watched her go until she disappeared from sight.
He realized that it was possible, even probable, that it might be the last time he ever saw her.
“Lord Kylon,” said Nasser, his voice quiet but calm. “We should hasten.”
“Agreed,” said Kylon, cold resolution closing around him.
He might not be able to help Caina against Callatas…but Callatas had many servants, and perhaps the gods would have mercy upon them, but Kylon would not.
Chapter 6: Exiled
They had reached the southern edge of the Emirs’ Quarter by the time Kylon heard the first drums.
He slowed for a moment, looking for the source of the sound. His first thought was that it was thunder, but it never rained in Istarinmul, and it rarely even became overcast. Another boom rang out, and another and another, accompanied by the moaning wail of a giant horn.
“Sounds like the drums of a Legion,” observed Laertes.
“It is the drums and the Great Horn of the armories of the Golden Palace,” said Sulaman, Mazyan keeping pace alongside him. “By tradition, whenever the armies of Istarinmul march to war, the Great Horn is sounded and the drums are beaten until the army departs from the city.”
“Then Erghulan is marching south to attack Tanzir,” said Nasser.
“And if he heeds Callatas, he will send men to kill Lord Martin and Lady Claudia,” said Kylon. “We had better hurry.”
“I suggest you go ahead, Lord Kylon,” said Nasser. “You can move faster than any of us, and the more warning Lord Martin has, the better his chances. We shall catch up as soon as we can.”
“Aye,” said Kylon. He wasted no more breath with speech, but drew upon the sorcery of air, as much as he could manage, and started running again.
This time he hurtled forward with the speed of the wind, the street blurring around him. When drawing upon the power of the air, Kylon could move almost as fast as a galloping horse. He couldn’t change direction easily, of course, but it
“A pact?” said Kylon.
“We’ll make a pact, you and I,” said Caina. “No matter what happens, we’ll be victorious. We’ll come back to Istarinmul.” Her voice trembled a little before she got it back under control. “Whoever gets back first will wait at the House of Agabyzus. If you get here first, wait for me.” She swallowed. “If I get back first, I’ll wait for you there until the stars go out and the sun turns to ash, I swear it.”
“I swear it, too,” said Kylon, gripping her hands.
For a long moment they stood there, her emotions washing over him with every beat of her heart.
But the moment was not long enough.
“We have to go,” said Caina.
“I know,” said Kylon. He forced himself to let go of her hands and step back. “Nasser and Laertes and I will get Sulaman and Lord Martin’s family out of the city. And then…”
“Wait,” said Caina, reaching for her pack. She tugged it off her shoulders and rummaged through it for a moment. “Wait…here!”
She straightened up and pushed a small leather pouch into his hand. Kylon opened it and saw crumpled lead foil. He pushed the foil aside, and the pale silvery glow of four vials of Elixir Restorata gleamed in the depths of the pouch, even as he felt the potent arcane power of the thick silver fluid in the crystalline vials.
“Four vials of Elixir Restorata,” said Caina. “Half of what’s left. If you need them. I hope you don’t. But if you do…”
“Thank you,” said Kylon, tucking the pouch away. “I will only use it if necessary.”
“I know,” said Caina. She closed her eyes for a moment, and seemed to pull herself together. “We had best go. If I don’t do it now, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Yes,” said Kylon, his voice a thick rasp in his throat.
He followed Caina to the street where the others waited. Without a word she set off in a run for the Alqaarin Harbor, Annarah and Morgant hurrying after her. Kylon watched her go until she disappeared from sight.
He realized that it was possible, even probable, that it might be the last time he ever saw her.
“Lord Kylon,” said Nasser, his voice quiet but calm. “We should hasten.”
“Agreed,” said Kylon, cold resolution closing around him.
He might not be able to help Caina against Callatas…but Callatas had many servants, and perhaps the gods would have mercy upon them, but Kylon would not.
Chapter 6: Exiled
They had reached the southern edge of the Emirs’ Quarter by the time Kylon heard the first drums.
He slowed for a moment, looking for the source of the sound. His first thought was that it was thunder, but it never rained in Istarinmul, and it rarely even became overcast. Another boom rang out, and another and another, accompanied by the moaning wail of a giant horn.
“Sounds like the drums of a Legion,” observed Laertes.
“It is the drums and the Great Horn of the armories of the Golden Palace,” said Sulaman, Mazyan keeping pace alongside him. “By tradition, whenever the armies of Istarinmul march to war, the Great Horn is sounded and the drums are beaten until the army departs from the city.”
“Then Erghulan is marching south to attack Tanzir,” said Nasser.
“And if he heeds Callatas, he will send men to kill Lord Martin and Lady Claudia,” said Kylon. “We had better hurry.”
“I suggest you go ahead, Lord Kylon,” said Nasser. “You can move faster than any of us, and the more warning Lord Martin has, the better his chances. We shall catch up as soon as we can.”
“Aye,” said Kylon. He wasted no more breath with speech, but drew upon the sorcery of air, as much as he could manage, and started running again.
This time he hurtled forward with the speed of the wind, the street blurring around him. When drawing upon the power of the air, Kylon could move almost as fast as a galloping horse. He couldn’t change direction easily, of course, but it
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