“The world looks a lot different when I’m not boiling mad, hungry and covered in mud after wrestling an ornery river stallion,” Moya said, shading her eyes from the lowering sun as she surveyed the area. She kept stride with the others, dodging merchants laden with packs and townsfolk out and about on their afternoon business.
“Not fighting river stallions would make anything better,” Zander countered.
“Unless your highest calling in this Ahran life is wrestling river stallions,” Ahn said, clamping his lips shut as if embarrassed at having spoken.
“Ha!” Moya could not help the laugh that spilled from her at Ahn’s comment. He seemed so serious, even somber, but his ability to slide a joke into the conversation, then stop as if he’d said the most awful thing, was quite winning. When he smiled, Ahndras transformed into someone bright.
“Someone I’ll eventually need to learn to trust,” she scolded herself.
“River stallions and trials aside, my highest goal in this Ahran world right now is to find out what in this Ahran world is happening,” Moya said. “While you check at the portal, the rest of us can visit the guard stations, shops—anywhere people might have noticed something amiss. It’s possible Archmage Miir could have checked in by now, but I’ve received no messages.”
“I have contacts in the trade commons,” Talli said, startling her. The almost silent Xereth woman was peering towards the east part of the town, slender gray fingers of her left hand resting for a moment on the dagger at her hip. “I’ll go talk to them.”
“Good idea,” Ahn nodded. “Zander, you know one guard quite well.”
“Exes do not count,” Zander said, eyes darkening. “But I’m on friendly terms with a few others. And I’m sure Gavi would not mind talking about Duskmere security if it came down to that. They are at least a consummate professional, anyway.”
“Exes?” Moya asked, too curious to stop herself.
“Long, maudlin story to tell by a cozy fire while we keep watch for impending death,” Zander said with a wink. “I’m off.”
Moya watched Zander amble away, the rings in his tall ears glinting in the late sunlight.
“Well, I suppose we should go snoop around the portal.” Ahn bowed his head slightly and motioned for her to follow. “This way.”
Moya watched Ahn’s back, shoulders stiff, his blond hair spilling in waves against the emerald of his robes. He walked softly on his nearly bare feet, moving instinctively out of the way of passers-by.
“What in Ahra?” Ahn drew up short, Moya stumbling into him from behind.
“Sorry,” Moya started, but any other words faded at the sight of what lay ahead of them. The raised platform, normally abuzz with activity, was empty, and the pleasant, chiming hum of leymagic that filled the air near portals was silent. Four people stood watch, one at each corner, while a group of grim-looking soldiers and robed mages milled around the portal focus. Some took notes, and others were using instruments to study the site.
The portal was dead.
“What in all the hells?” Moya asked, looking over at Ahn in shock. “Does that ever happen?”
Ahn shook his head, looking as confused as she felt. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he murmured, frowning. He hailed one of the leymages keeping watch. “What can you tell me about all this?”
“Not sure, sir. I was told to keep an eye out for any strange activity, at least until the Valiants get here. You’ll want to talk to the Seneschal.” The mage gestured to a squat woman in a violet tunic, a long-suffering expression on her face as a small crowd of angry travelers pressed in on her.
“They must be stuck here,” Moya mused, her unease increasing by the moment.
“Then they should just hire river stallions,” Ahn said so flatly Moya had to look over at him, only realizing by the glint in his hazel eyes that he was joking. She let out a short bark of laughter before sobering.
“Should we intervene?” Moya asked, nodding towards the woman.
“To preserve the peace, yes,” Ahn said with a tiny smile. Moya shook away thoughts about how that same man could just as easily conjure the void incarnate as make jokes about river stallions.
“Let me go first,” Moya said. “The uniform helps. Excuse me, coming through on official Tanahr business.”
She elbowed her way through the clump of agitated people, Ahn close behind her. The Seneschal looked up at Moya, relief flooding her expression.
“All complaints will be addressed at the Governor’s office in the order received. We are doing everything we can to get the portal back in service,” the woman called out, waving the crowd toward the town center. “Now, how can I help you, since you did me such a favor?”
“Can you tell me what you know?” Moya asked.
“We’ve come on our way to Nightstar Temple, where I’ll be doing cleansing work,” Ahn added.
“I’m happy to hear it. You must be Mage Frost, and I do not know how we’ve never been properly introduced.”
“I am indeed Mage Frost, and I’m at your service,” Ahn said, gesturing to a shaded clearing where wrought-iron benches flanked a bubbling fountain. They moved to a quiet area, and the woman plopped onto the bench with a sigh.
“I’m Bettine Gossier, Duskmere Seneschal and apparently foot traffic director. Archmage Miir told me to seek you out in particular should this ever happen, but it’s nice that you’ve come to me. By the by, I have several Valiants on the way as we speak—Gavi Stone and four from their detachment.”
“Zander’ll be relieved they’re away,” Moya muttered, then quieted at the grimness of the other woman’s expression.
“It started a couple of days ago when a young leymage saying she was on an urgent mission from Easthaven showed up, asking a bunch of questions about the town.”
“What questions?” Moya frowned.
“Who was to maintain the leylines that feed this portal and where they originate, how they connected to others, if there were any that went as far as active Waystones—things nobody so young would be interested in, if you want my opinion. She touched nothing, though. I watched. And nobody reported her returning.”
“If it was that Seshka girl, I do not know why she would need to know such things. So what happened next?” Moya asked.
“Sometime this afternoon, after she’d been gone for a while, the midday transport group all stepped up onto the dais and there was… Well, I’m not sure how to describe it other than an explosion with no flame or sound.”
“No sound?” Ahn asked, leaning forward. “What exactly did it look like? Was anyone harmed?”
“The portal attendants only remember a big flash of light. ‘An unnatural light,’ one of them said, but the wave of power knocked them flat and that was that. No injuries, but everyone was disoriented.”
Ahn listened, lips thinning in a frown. “This is concerning. I must speak with the attendants.”
He jogged away toward the portal platform, feet padding in the new grass. Moya and the Seneschal sat for a moment, both surprised.
“So, are you the new temple guardian I’ve heard is coming?” Bettine asked, openly curious.
“That’s me. Moya Anders.” Moya shook the woman’s hand, impressed by the strength of her grip. “Nice to meet you. I’m a Valiant in Easthaven and now in charge of keeping that one over there safe.” She cocked her head toward Ahn and the dead portal. “Is there anything else strange that you—or anyone—can remember?”
“Other than a rampaging river stallion covered in mud and tearing through the market a couple of hours ago?”
“Oh,” Moya said, shaking her head. “That might be a tiny bit my fault.”
“Your fault?” Bettine echoed, grinning. “Now this I must hear.”
“You will. And I’ll preface my tale of woe with the caveat that I’m prepared to pay for damages. You’re sure that is all that happened that seemed odd, though?”
“If you count more priests and scholars than any one town can know what to do with—which has been happening for a couple of weeks now—no other reports came to me and mine. Now, tell me the river stallion story while we’re waiting for your mage friend. I could use a good laugh.”
—
Ahn left the investigators on the platform to their muttering, calculations, and tests, unnerved by what he’d discovered. There were traces of corruption at the site—indiscernible to all but the most trained of aether leymages—especially around the portal’s focus, which was now just a burnt-out mess of twisted metal and shattered crystal. Ahn rounded up all the town’s mages in the area and set them to casting cleansing spells. What had happened here called for aggressive measures.
“Are you sure it’s corruption that caused this?” A dark-robed man with a trace of a northwestern Ahran accent appeared at his side, footsteps almost silent. Ahn could tell at once he was not one of the local mages, likely a member of the scholar-caravans that had been crossing through town on the way to the Concord Archives for a couple of weeks. “Nothing like this has ever been recorded since the Old Guard. Scholars will talk about it for decades.”
Ahn gazed at the man, unnerved. There was something in the stranger’s expression that was eager. Even hungry—
“Though I understand the significance of such an event, this is not the time for casual scholarly curiosity,” he replied, words sharp. “I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the area while our town Valiants address the situation.”
The man smiled, a slow curving of his lips that did not reach his oddly blank brown eyes. “As you wish. Do be careful.”
Unfortunately, the unsettling stranger had been right. Nothing like this had happened to Ahran portals and Waystones in generations, not since Ahra’s Old Guard. The corruption was so potent, spreading so fast, that the portal’s failsafe activated. Ahn knew in his heart this was the truth of things.
Duskmere’s portal was the only means of fast travel for southern Tanahr. Worse, the same leylines surrounding the portal had branches that flowed directly to the Aixath Waystone just beyond the Umbra border. And if a Waystone failed…Ahn shuddered, then walked back to the clearing where he’d left Moya and the Seneschal, heart heavy. Ripples of laughter echoed through the trees—a welcome sound after such terrible news. Moya looked up at him as he approached, her smile fading when she saw the look on his face.
“What happened?” she asked.
Ahn glanced over at the other woman, not sure if he wanted to share what he had to say with anyone but Moya, at least until he’d wrapped his own mind around it. News of corruption bad enough to shut down a portal was enough to make an entire town panic, and the mages back at the platform were being careful not to say anything until their wards were set and the area cleansed enough to protect the town for just a little while longer.
“Ah, well, I’ll be off, I think,” Bettine said. “Plenty of squabbling travelers and merchants to sort out.”
With a brisk nod to Moya and Ahn, she was on her way. Ahn watched her go, not envying her job in the days ahead. “Are you going to let me in on what you discovered?” Moya asked, one brow raised.
“Honestly, I’m trying to figure out how to even wrap my mind around it.” Ahn shrugged tiredly.
“That bad, eh?”
“Worse than I’d expected. There were traces of—”
“Kraah magic?” Moya cut in, jaw working with emotion.
She was terrified at just the mention of the Kraah. He did not blame her. He shook his head, and she sighed in relief. “Not just yet, I don’t think,” he said. “The corruption has spread enough that the portal’s safeguards went into effect, shutting the whole thing down. I’ll find the underlying cause of all this, I promise. Cleansing the temple will be a good start.”
“I hope so. I’m sure we’ll get this sorted in no time,” Moya added with an uneasy smile, as if trying to convince herself.
Ahn knew the Kraah attack on the Mageguild had shaken this powerful woman to her core, and he did not want her to have to face yet more horrors while on his watch. But there was so much out of his control.
I can’t help but think these incidents are all related. They must be. This smacks of her…
“Hello, hello.”
Ahn turned from his dark thoughts to see Zander striding into the clearing, Talli a noiseless shadow behind him.
“You came away from the guard station with your head intact,” Ahn said, eyeing Zander. “Helped that Gavi was out on other assignments, I’m sure.”
“Lucky me, yes. I found out some information worth knowing. So did Talli. You first, milady.”
The Xereth woman bowed slightly at Zander’s words, a hint of a smile ghosting over her lips.
“I spoke with the apothecary, who confirmed that a young woman in Mageguild robes paid a visit to her establishment after you had gone through the shops with her. The girl bought half the shop’s stock of bonding reagents, leywater, activation parchments, and stinkwort. The rest went to the priests and pilgrims on their way to Templegate. But it’s not like Templegate merchants would sell out of such things, what with the Concord Archives so near.”
“Wait, stinkwort?” Moya echoed, confused. “Isn’t that just a weed people use to scare off rats?”
“Not just,” Ahn said, not wanting to meet her gaze. “It’s a weed that aethermages like me can use when we cast certain summoning spells. Along with other ingredients from our stores, and a lifetime of practice, of course.”
“I never knew that,” Moya said, and Ahn braved a look at her face. She didn’t look disgusted at the mention of his leymagic—just thoughtful.
“This also means that the girl is possibly an aethermage,” Ahn said. “Or at the least a leymage wise beyond her years. Or that she is working for someone else.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Moya said. “Seshka seemed almost…almost empty, I hate to say. No, I don’t like this at all.”
Ahn frowned, a heavy and sick feeling sliding like oil through his senses. There was something sinister happening. The dark-robed man at the dead portal had blank eyes, too.
“My news is not wonderful, either,” Zander said after a moment of tense silence. “I spoke with two traveling scholars holed up at the inn on the edge of town. The innkeeper was complaining about not being able to meet the demand of all the people stuck here. I could talk to Aelin again, but my guess is that supply all over the mercantile district and a lot of other things will get worse now that the portal is down.”
Moya looked at Ahn, misgiving clear in her brown eyes. “So Seshka was here before I arrived, and when I arrived, horrible monsters showed up at the marker stone. Then the portal collapsed after I’d been in town for a couple of hours. Now the town is full of a bunch of people about to get incredibly cranky when they can’t find a meal or a place to stay?” Moya threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat.
“That’s about the long and short of it,” Zander said. “What else is there to do?”
“We can talk to the heralds and order riders to Porthaven and south into Umbra, warning them to monitor their leylines closely and set a watch for this Seshka girl.” Ahn spoke with an air of confidence and authority he did not feel. “But most importantly, we need to get to the leytemple, and soon.”
His words had the desired effect. Zander nodded, Talli hissed softly, a hint of fang flashing, and Moya—
She looks so relieved. Any good soldier does best with a directive. I must keep them busy, keep us all safe.
No small task when rogue aethermagic of the darkest variety was in play, and when quick travel to resources and safety wasn’t an option.
And her, the dreams, or whatever they are. But I can’t talk about that now. Not until I’m sure.
“Shall we get on with this increasingly peculiar day, then?” Ahn asked, gazing at each of them. “Let me rephrase that. I think visiting the leytemple can’t wait any longer.”
“I should be used to ‘increasingly peculiar’ by now,” Moya said with a rueful shake of her head. “As much as I hate to admit it, I agree we need to get to cleansing these leylines sooner than later.”
“That is all fine and well with me.” Zander grinned. “Gives me a chance to show off my outdoor culinary skills, if you want a late supper that will dazzle your senses.”
“Is it wise to travel so late?” Talli asked, the seriousness of her voice dousing smiles as easily as dirt on a campfire.
“Is it wise to let the situation here go unchecked?” Moya countered the other woman’s question with one of her own. “I’m sorry, I just know the cost of letting corruption be for even a short time.”
“Moya’s right,” Ahndras shook his head sadly. “Let us be more vigilant than ever. We can check for transportation, but my hopes are not high. Are you ready?”
He nodded at Moya, holding her gaze. She understood, and that meant everything to him. It didn’t matter whether they were cordial. All that mattered now was keeping Ahra safe from the darkness spreading through the leylines like poison.
“Ready as ever I’ll ever be,” she replied, head high. “The world’s not going to save itself, after all.”
Lizzie Sinclaire 