All the way back north, Evan refused to argue when Destin offered one reason after another as to why it was a bad idea for Evan to come along to the wetlands. Evan was busy grappling with the problem of finding a reliable crew. After three days on the water, he’d determined that it would require at least five hands for a blue-water crossing; at least three times that to crew Destiny as a privateer.
The challenge would be to find a crew that couldn’t be bought off. The knowledge that the empress was still actively hunting him changed everything. He did not relish the notion of being delivered to Celesgarde in his own ship. He wasn’t so concerned about the crossing to Baston Bay. It would be there and back, with little opportunity for harborside gossip. But when he began sailing the Desert Coast, and raiding in the wetlands, it would be only a matter of time before he came to the empress’s attention, especially if he became known as a stormcaster.
He still hoped that Destin might return to Carthis with him after accomplishing his mission in Arden. Destin’s nuanced magery might offer a way to ensure a loyal crew. Together, he and Destin could meet any challenge, stand against any enemy.
He tried not to think of the possibility that their mission might fail. If they couldn’t defeat a wetland general, what chance would they have against the empress?
More importantly, the cottage in Tarvos had been closer to a home than anything Evan had experienced before, and Destin and Frances had become a surrogate family. An ember of hope still burned inside him—the hope that they could look forward to a future together.
When Destiny sailed back into the harbor at Tarvos, the sun was setting on their third day. On the way in, they passed an unfamiliar three-masted schooner, moored far out in the harbor, where the water was deepest. She flew no colors, but carried a full complement of guns.
Destin rested his forearms on the stern railing, squinting against the sunlight gilding the tops of the Guardians. “Do you recognize that ship?”
“No,” Evan said, “but she looks like a wetlander.”
Not many wetland ships came and went at Tarvos these days, since Carthian pirates made the journey perilous. This ship, however, looked like she could fend off most any challenge.
The harbor area was oddly deserted when they tied up at their mooring. Usually, the arrival of any ship brought a handful of people down to the wharf, some intent on commerce, others merely curious. Several jolly boats were tied up at Kadar’s public docks.
They quickly unloaded their few personal belongings, meaning to come back with the wagon for the rest. As they walked up the hill, away from the harbor, Evan looked back. He saw sailors swarming over the schooner’s decks, as if they were preparing to get under way.
When they rounded the point, the cottage came into view. It was dark—no lights in the windows.
“Frances should be home by now,” Evan said. “Right?”
“Before now,” Destin said, frowning. “Maybe she left a note inside.”
They walked to the porch, between the beds of flowers that Frances had planted, and found the door slightly ajar.
Breaker growled, hackles raised, but that was nothing unusual.
“Wait,” Destin said, raising his hand. He stood listening for a long moment, then shrugged, pushed the door open, and walked in, with Evan right behind him.
Before Evan’s eyes had adjusted to the dim interior, he heard the door slam shut behind them. All around the main room, lanterns were unhooded, flooding the room with light, practically blinding him.
“Where have you been, Corporal?” somebody said in a low, raspy voice. “Weren’t you afraid that your mother would be worried?”
Destin must have recognized the voice, because he turned deathly pale. He spun round, scanning the room. Frances wasn’t there, but red-brown stains that hadn’t been there before were spattered across the tile floor.
“Don’t waste your time, Corporal. The bitch is waiting for us aboard ship. I think she’ll live.”
The man speaking was thickset and barrel-chested, a wetland mage with a flattened nose and a bristle of hair. He was dressed in a brown uniform that carried no emblem of rank. His arms were so muscular that they hung out from his sides like thick branches on a spreading tree.
It was—it had to be—Destin’s father, General Karn. But it wasn’t just him. A dozen men lined the room’s perimeter, similarly dressed, their hands on their weapons, as if looking for a chance to use them.
Grabbing up the fire poker, Destin charged toward his father. But before he’d gone three steps, he was surrounded by soldiers, who pinioned his arms. The poker hit the wood floor with a thud.
Evan thrust out his hand, reaching for lightning, though unsure how that demand would be answered. Something smashed down on the back of his head and he ended up sprawled on his face on the floor, stunned. Karn gestured to his men, and two of them hauled Evan to his feet.
The general looked the pair of them up and down. “Too bad,” he said. “Two mages, and we only brought one collar.” He gestured toward Destin. While two soldiers fastened a wide silver collar around Destin’s neck, the general reached into Evan’s neckline, apparently searching for an amulet. He came up with the pendant. He ripped it away, breaking the chain, and tossed it into the corner.
If this keeps happening, Evan thought, I’ll need to find a stronger chain.
The general turned back to his collared, pinioned son. “You haven’t learned a thing while you’ve been gone, have you, boy?” Karn drew back and slammed his fist, hard, into Destin’s middle, folding him in half. Evan could hear ribs cracking. Then he punched him in the face, snapping Destin’s head back.
Breaker sprang forward, moving faster than he’d ever moved before. He sank his teeth into the general’s calf and hung on.
Karn swore, trying to shake off the growling dog. Finally, he drew his belt dagger and slashed, practically decapitating the dog. Breaker managed to yelp once, then landed in a heap on the floor. The general kicked him aside with his booted foot.
“Stupid butt-fart of a dog,” Karn said. He looked at Destin, who stood, collared, arms pinned, eye purpling, blood streaming down his face. Evan knew Destin had loved that dog, knew he must be in considerable pain, but he displayed no sign of it, no hint of emotion. It was as if he’d retreated to some long-standing shell of survival, where the general couldn’t get at him.
As if seeking easier prey, the general turned to Evan. “So,” he said. “Who are you, mageling?”
Evan said nothing.
Karn drew his knife. “Speak, boy, or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
“Mother hired him to do odd jobs around the place,” Destin said, in a bored voice. “He claimed to be a handyman, but I haven’t seen any sign of it.”
“Is that so?” Karn barked a laugh. “What sort of odd jobs do you do, boy?” The way he said it, it sounded filthy.
“He spends most of his time sleeping and eating and sneaking off to town.” Destin’s face was blank, his jaw tense, his glittering eyes sending a message to Evan. Play along.
“That’s a dirty lie,” Evan said. He turned to Karn. “I’m a hard worker, sir. I do whatever needs doing—farming, kitchen work, chopping wood.”
“You are a pretty boy,” Karn said. “You’re not his little sweetheart, are you?” He nodded at Destin.
Evan adopted a puzzled expression. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
Karn waved the knife beneath his nose. “If I cut off your nose and your ears, you wouldn’t be near so pretty, would you?” He shot a look at Destin, as if to see his reaction, but Destin displayed none.
“Or maybe we could just gut-stab you and leave you to die.” Again, he shot a look at his son.
“Why don’t you just kill me and be done with it?” Destin said.
Stop baiting him, Evan thought desperately, unable to watch. It was as if he felt every blow the general landed.
“I never said anything about killing you,” Karn said to Destin. “That would be too easy. Your mother has done her best to ruin you, but I’m going to make you a man if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Maybe it will be,” Destin said. “Is that why you brought half an army? Because you were worried you couldn’t handle it on your own?” That earned him another punch to the gut.
He wants his father to kill him, Evan realized. He’d prefer that to what’s in store for him. I’ve got to figure out some way to help him. The best way to do that is to convince Karn there’s nothing between us.
“I don’t want to be killed, either,” Evan whined. “I’m more useful alive than dead.”
“Is that so?” Karn said, rubbing his chin, eyeing him speculatively. “We always need mages in the Ardenine army. If you really are a mage. Have you ever thought about a military career?”
“No, sir,” Evan said, feigning eagerness. “But I would like to learn more about magery. That’s why I took this job.”
“You seem like a likely lad. Let’s see what you’re made of. Let him loose,” he said to the soldiers pinning his arms.
They released him and stepped back.
Karn pointed at Destin. “Hit him.”
Evan, his stomach sinking into his toes, looked from Karn to Destin. “You want me to hit him?”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Karn pushed him toward Destin. “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Smash his face in.”
“General.” It was the only man there not dressed in soldier garb. “It’s already late. We’re going to have to leave soon if we’re going to catch the tide. We can’t risk spending another night here.”
“We’re nearly done here,” Karn said.
“Come on, handyman,” Destin taunted. “Give it all you’ve got.”
Evan looked into his eyes and saw the pleading there. He wants me to hit him. He’s trying to save my life.
Evan took a breath, made a fist, and aimed for Destin’s middle.
“Hit him in the face,” Karn ordered. “It doesn’t count if you don’t draw blood.”
Evan licked his lips, thinking, I can’t do this. Destin’s eyes said, Yes, you can.
Evan pulled back his fist and aimed for Destin’s already-bleeding nose. Blood is blood, he thought.
When he connected, Destin somehow wrenched free of his captors, lurched forward, wrapped his hands around Evan’s neck, and began to squeeze. As he did so, Evan felt him drop something into the neck of his shirt. It slid down his chest and landed in the waist of his breeches. It buzzed against his skin, and he knew it was Destin’s amulet.
“Stay here,” he hissed into Evan’s ear. “Don’t follow. Remember. Ruthless.”
It took three men to peel Destin off Evan.
“What was that—a last kiss?” Karn laughed. “That was quite a show. I wish we had more time.” He turned away, and his voice became hard and brisk. “Sublette and Howard. Take the handyman out in the woods and kill him. Meet us at the ship.”
Sublette and Howard looked unhappy at this assignment, but not unhappy enough to risk complaining.
“But . . . you said I had a future in the military,” Evan protested.
“You think we’d want a preening cock robin like you in the army?” Karn snorted. “You wouldn’t last a day.”
As his assigned executioners dragged him to the door, Evan caught one last glimpse of Destin. His eye was blackened, his face bloody, his nose probably broken.
But his lips were curved in a shadow of a smile.
All the way into the woods, Sublette and Howard complained about their assignment and Carthis in general. They were speaking Ardenine, so maybe they thought Evan couldn’t understand it. Or maybe they didn’t care.
“Saints and martyrs,” Howard said. “This is the only patch of green I’ve seen in this whole godforsaken country. Why anyone would come here willingly is beyond me.”
“This an’t the worst of it,” Sublette said. “There’s dragons and watergators.”
“There couldn’t be watergators,” Howard countered, “’cause there’s no water.”
“There’s a river,” Sublette pointed out.
While they were talking, Evan managed to slide Destin’s amulet out of his breeches and loop the chain around his neck. The amulet, warm and primed with flash, rested against his chest. Maybe he didn’t know any killing charms, but he’d find a way just the same.
“Let’s get this thing done,” Sublette muttered. “I’m not getting left here, that’s for sure.”
Actually, you are, Evan thought.
By now he guessed they were far enough away from the cabin that they wouldn’t be seen or heard.
Sublette drew his sword. “Kneel, boy,” he said. “If you hold still, I’ll cut off your head and you won’t feel a thing.”
“How do you know?” Evan said. “Have you ever been beheaded?”
“Stop wasting time and kneel!” Howard put his hand on Evan’s shoulder to push him down to his knees. Evan turned, pressed his finger into the soldier’s chest, and sent lightning rocketing in. Howard dropped like a rock.
“Howard?” Sublette stared at the dead man for a scant few seconds, which was all Evan needed. Reaching from behind, he pressed his fingers into Sublette’s throat and did for him, too.
Sometimes simple is best, he thought.
He wrestled Sublette out of his uniform jacket and pulled it on over his shirt. Working feverishly, he strapped on the soldier’s belt and shoved his sword back into the scabbard. The disguise wouldn’t fool anyone for long, but it might buy him a few seconds, and that might make the difference. There was nothing he could do about his hair, but it was nighttime, after all.
He sprinted back to the cottage, the unfamiliar sword banging against his hip, organizing his story as he ran.
He banged through the door, shouting, “General Karn! The handyman! He pushed Howard in the river and ran off!”
But the interior of the cottage was empty as a tomb. It appeared that Sublette and Howard were right to worry. The rest of the party had already gone.
They’d be on their way to the harbor. No doubt the wetland gunship he and Destin had seen belonged to them. Evan raced back down the path they’d traversed earlier, nearly flying head over heels twice before he discarded the sword that kept tangling in his legs. It wasn’t as if a sword would make that much difference—not in his hands, anyway. By now it was full dark, with the moon not yet risen above the Dragonbacks.
He skidded to a stop at the quayside. The jolly boats were gone from their mooring at the public dock, so he looked out over the harbor.
He was too late.
Against the western horizon, still bright from the setting sun, he saw the three-masted schooner passing between the twin pillars of the Guardians on its way to the open sea.
Desperately, he reached out with his hands and attempted to take hold of the air and pull it toward him, to create a change in the wind that might bring Destin back. But he hadn’t enough practice to gauge the scale and distance, and the ship was already within the protection of the straits. A massive wave of wind and water swept ashore, knocking him flat and drenching him. He could hear trees snapping off behind him.
Somehow, he had to let Destin know that he’d survived, that his gambit had been successful. Evan didn’t know whether that would be enough to give his friend the will to live, but it was all he had to offer.
Broadening his stance on the sand, Evan gripped Destin’s amulet with both hands and breathed in all the magic he could hold. Letting go of the amulet, he raised both hands and sent bolts of lightning arcing over the sea, colliding high over the Ardenine ship, turning midnight to noon and gilding the waves with silver and gold.
That’s a promise, Destin, Evan thought. Stay alive and we’ll see each other again.
He stood watching as Destin’s ship grew smaller and smaller until it winked out over the horizon like a dying star.