Kane rolled his shoulders as he and Gabriel strode westward. His legs had recovered, no longer sore from trekking through the Rot two days before, but in that time he'd used his shoulders in all manner of new and interesting ways: hauling, digging, building. He'd used an axe before, but never to split wood. He'd used a hammer, but never to mend a fence. Still, despite the soreness, he felt good, knowing he had helped people in such a tangible way.
Gabriel must have felt it too, for his mood had improved over those two days. Lady Quincey - Elsbeth - had cried when they left that morning, worried for her "baby boy" in his dangerous city job, begging Gabriel to visit more often, to write more. Gabriel had grumbled, red-faced with embarrassment, but at least he smiled now, an easy, genuine smile that Kane hadn't seen before. He'd begun to talk to Kane again as they had worked together, but only now did Gabriel open up about the one secret he had kept even from Harvey.
"I'm confused," Kane said. "She's betrothed to which of you?"
"It's complicated," Gabriel said. "Our lands share a border, and our fathers have been friends their whole lives. They've been planning to join our families together since before they had children, but seeing as Ashelia's an only daughter... Well, she has to marry one of us."
"And you're hoping it'll be you?" Kane said.
"I never dared hope it would be me," Gabriel said, stepping carefully on the narrow path. With the south fields fallen to the Rot, every inch of unused land in the Reach was being tilled, including some less-traveled roadways. The main highway to the West Hills, while still traversable, was now only a footpath between freshly planted rows of what would become the fall's crops. "I'm the youngest, after all. Each of my brothers has a better claim to her hand. But… when she decided to pursue white magic in earnest, I knew it meant I had a chance."
Kane nodded understanding, though his mouth twitched toward a frown. Kane neither understood nor agreed with the way being a white mage made Ashelia Hornwood something less than nobility in the eyes of Melmond's aristocracy. "And yet you sent her away?" Kane asked.
"I didn't want to," Gabriel said, wearily rubbing a hand over his face as he and Kane hiked across the last of the fields into the first gentle slopes of the rocky hills that loomed ahead of them. "But she's always had it, the magic, since she was born. She hadn't told anyone except me - and her parents, of course - but still, when the other white mages started going missing, we worried people would learn what she was. We needed a place a white mage could be safe. White Hall was our only option." Gabriel sighed. "So I told Harvey I'd come into some Half-Moon marble, and that I had a buyer in Cornelia for a short sale. He found a captain willing to make the voyage, despite the risks. Putting her on that ship was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life."
"I could never have done it," Kane said.
"I think you could have," Gabriel said. "We're alike, you and I. I think you would have done the same thing in my place."
Kane shrugged, unconvinced. His gut told him that had it been Sarah who was in danger, he would instead have kept her close, put himself between her and whatever threats she faced. "That's why you're sympathetic toward mages. It all makes sense," Kane said.
Gabriel barked a laugh. "Well, I didn't know you had a black mage around. That's stretching my charity." He took a wide step over a rock in the narrow walkway, rather than step to the side, in the space where freshly planted shoots peeked through the dirt. "But Lena is a white mage? I was right about that?"
"Yeah," Kane said, though the confession made him blush. It still felt wrong to admit it out loud, no matter how much he believed Gabriel would never betray his friends.
"I knew it," Gabriel said nodding. "It's so obvious after you know. There's a certain... personality."
"Yeah," Kane repeated.
"And she knew he was a black mage? Before their betrothal, I mean."
Kane chuckled. "Sort of. They're not really betrothed."
Gabriel gave him a slanted look over his shoulder. "You're bluffing."
"I was bluffing when I told Leiden they were! We wanted to keep her close. Leiden was suggesting we house her with the servants, you might recall."
"But..." Gabriel said shaking his head, "but he's crazy about her!"
"I know it, but he's also so shy I think if she returned his affections in earnest, he'd drop stone dead from the shock."
"Huh," Gabriel said. "I guess he and I have that in common at least."
The highway broadened as they talked, the land sloping sharply upward as they passed from the Quincey estates. The West Hills seemed bleak in comparison to the rich farmland of the Reach, gray and brown stone interspersed with scrubby grasses. Kane could see a few houses in the distance, spots among the slopes, and at one point he saw a man keeping watch over a herd of goats, but he saw no other signs of life, as if the Rot had already claimed these lands.
There was a hush here, almost funereal. Gabriel fell silent again, but Kane understood. He walked in silence himself, his own breath sounding ragged and loud, disrespectful against the quiet backdrop.
The road twisted up the hills, rounding one last slope to reveal something almost like a village, a gathering of squat homes and shops dug right into the stone. Even here, an oppressive hush settled over everything. People moved between the buildings, going about their ordinary days in silence. Though they stared at Kane as he passed as if they knew who he was, none raised a hand in greeting, none so much as smiled.
"Is it always like this here?" he whispered.
"I've only been here once," Gabriel said, shaking his head. "But this is how I remember it. Come on. It's this way, another mile or so."
"What is?"
"Your family home."
Redden woke in that chair again, the one in Orin's room. The old man lay still in the center of the bed, breathing evenly. It looked as if he hadn't improved at all, save that Lena wasn't there. She checked in on him often, but she no longer waited at his side as Redden and Thad did, instead spending her days in the garden, she said, practicing her new spells away from prying eyes. Redden knew she wouldn't have left Orin for so long if he was still in danger.
Sprawled across the foot of the bed, Thadius snored like a behemoth, a book open beside him where it had fallen. Redden had tried to send him off with the girl to study his own abilities, but seeing as Thad still hadn't figured out how to draw the aether, Redden hadn't insisted when the boy had refused.
Redden yawned, blinking at the window to gage the time. He reached to the floor, retrieving his own dropped reading material, the latest reports from Killian and his men. There had been no further word of the Brotherhood. Redden had sent scouts to the south cape seeking out the secret hideout their prisoner had revealed, and though his men confirmed the presence of a cave there, Redden had not made the trip himself. Though he itched to do so, he had resolved to wait for his son's return first. He had asked Kane to fight with him, after all. He would wait for Kane.
He stood, stretched, then bent over Orin, casting Cure. Three spells in, perhaps an hour later, Thad woke. He nodded a greeting to Redden as he sat up, legs criss-crossed on the foot of the bed, then picked up his book, The Tales of the Knights of Bahamut, and began reading aloud from it. Redden found it distracting, but let it pass. He knew it was important to both Lena and Thad, some shared superstition the two of them had picked up along the way. He let the boy's voice wash over him as he focused on his cobbled-together Cures, so clumsy compared to Lena's. He hardly noticed when Thadius stopped reading, vaguely aware that the boy had begun watching him. Redden finished his spell and stood up, arching his back, gathering himself before he started the next one.
"Almost all of it went in," Thad noted.
"I felt as much," Redden said, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow.
"But that's good, right? Does that mean he'll wake up soon?"
"It means there's not much else we can do for him. Either he'll wake or he won't."
He took a few moments to recover before he set to it again. Days of casting were beginning to wear him out. The strength of will a red mage needed to wrangle the aether they couldn't see into the proper formations took a very real and very physical toll.
"Why do you fold the fourth passage like that?" Thad asked. "Lena doesn't do that."
Redden looked at him flatly.
"I'm just trying to help!" the boy said. "It's hard to fold the aether, right? Does it need to be thicker than the third one? Couldn't you just use more aether? Wouldn't that be easier?"
"If you pay attention," Redden said sharply, "you'll see I don't hold as much aether as Lena does."
Thad deflated, embarrassed. "Oh… Right."
Redden sighed. He felt bad for snapping at the boy. "You want to help? Go get me something to eat."
"I can do that!" Thad said, jumping up and scurrying off to the kitchens.
Redden rubbed his temples. He'd lost the spell. He took a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to center himself before he started again. Why bother? he wondered. Either he'll wake or he won't, I said it myself.
He rubbed his forehead, rubbed his hands over his eyes. He should sleep. He should go back to his own room and have a real rest in his own bed and he should-
"My friend..."
Redden's eyes snapped open at the sound of Orin's voice, only a whisper, and he saw the old man looking weakly back at him. "You're awake!" He turned to the door, calling for Thadius, but the boy was already gone.
Orin tried to sit up.
"No, don't! Not yet," Redden said, pressing him back down. He grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and elevated the monk's head to help him drink, then gently set him down again.
"The vampire...?" Orin said, his unfinished question hanging in the air.
"Dead," Redden said.
"Was it your sister, as you feared?"
Redden nodded, shutting his eyes.
He felt Orin's hand on his, felt a gentle squeeze. "I am sorry."
"It was... I..." Redden shook his head.
"And the Brotherhood?"
"No sign of them, not for days. I have another lead to follow, but-"
The old man's grip grew surprisingly firm. "Days?" he asked in a choked gasp. "Days? How long have I been asleep?"
"Nearly a week," Redden said, confused at the old man's reaction.
Orin gasped again, squeezing Redden's hand tight as he struggled against the bedding, trying to rise.
"Rest," Redden said, easily holding him down. "It's ended, whatever it was. We've had no other attacks since then, no more dead men walking the streets."
The old man shook his head, still trying to rise. "A week is too long! Jack!" he said, voice frantic though his body still moved sluggishly. "What of Jack?"
"Jack?" Redden said, cocking his head. It took almost no effort to hold the monk down though Orin continued to struggle. "Jack's fine, Orin. In fact, Lena says it was his elixir that kept you alive that first day when..."
Redden trailed off, thinking. Was Jack fine? Redden hadn't seen him, not since he'd brought the elixir. Lena came to check on Orin often, but Jack hadn't been back.
No, he must be fine. He's only gone to Unne's...
And yet Orin seemed so concerned. The old man had exhausted himself struggling against Redden's gentle restraint. He lay back against the pillows now, breathing heavily. Redden tried to get him to drink again, but the old man shook his head. He reached for Redden's hand, gripping it firmly, if not as firmly as before. "Without me… He has had no one to draw from." And with that, his grip went slack. His eyes fell closed again, his heavy breathing settling once more into the even rhythm of sleep.
No one to draw from... Redden sat, the words replaying in his mind. He didn't notice Thad's return until the boy stepped right in front of him, moving the water glass and candlestick out of the way to make room on the nightstand for the tray he'd brought. The motion shook Redden out of his thoughts and he stood. "I need to go," he said. "Stay here."
"But your breakfast!" said Thad.
Redden looked down at the tray with its the two heaping plates. He shook his head, nodded toward Orin. "Give it to him when he wakes up again," Redden said.
"Again? What do you mean, 'again'?"
"He woke briefly."
"He did?" Thad said, half-squealing. He pushed Redden aside, sitting on the bed. "Orin? It's Thad. I'm here." The old man didn't stir. Thad looked to Redden questioningly.
"He seemed very tired, but otherwise alright. I think we're out of the woods," Redden said. "Stay with him in case he wakes again. There's something I need to do."
"I will," Thad said, nodding firmly. "But… where are you going? What should I tell him if he asks for you?"
Redden stopped at the door. "Tell him..." Oh, gods, what was he planning? "Tell him I'll take care of Jack."
Cormorant Hall clung to the rocks overlooking the sea like a spider on a wall. While it might have been grand once, now the weathered siding was beginning to buckle and the windows looked loose in their frames. More than a few were boarded up altogether, as if the lord of the house couldn't be bothered with repairs.
A single guard in dented plate stood at the huge front door, his expression bored. "No visitors," he said, leaning casually on a pike. "Turn back as you came."
The man's voice boomed deep from his barrel chest, but on closer inspection Kane could see that the man was likely older than Kane's father, his hair gray and thin, not the sort of man one would have hired to be a guard. Kane was suddenly struck by the realization that this man had likely been standing here day after day for years. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.
"We've come to see Lord Carmine," Gabriel said.
"He's not seeing anyone," the guard said, spitting off to the side. "Be off with you."
"I think he'll see us," Gabriel said, elbowing Kane sharply.
Kane grunted in surprise. The guard raised an eyebrow, looking at him critically as if only just noticing he was there. Kane drew himself up to his full height. "My name is Kane Carmine," he said, feeling ridiculous. "My father is Redden Carmine."
The guard's eyes widened. "My- my lord! W-welcome! I thought you weren't coming!" He bowed hastily, pulling the door open behind him, bowing again. "Please, come in! It's true what I said, as Lord Carmine ain't seeing anyone, but you'll find the mistress upstairs."
"Thank you," Kane said, awkwardly addressing the top of the helmet on the man's still-bowed head as Gabriel motioned them inside. Kane felt himself blushing when the man bobbed another bow, though he still hadn't finished his first one.
The house opened onto a huge front room, all stone and stairwells. It hadn't been built so much as carved out of the hills, and then a roof put over the top. A pair of staircases to either side of the room both went down, though in opposite directions. Straight ahead, though, a broad set of stairs led to the upper floors. "After you," Kane said.
Gabriel shook his head, shoving Kane forward. "It's your house."
Kane's heart pounded. He gripped the railing to steady himself and started upwards, his boots echoing in the cavernous room, announcing his arrival.
He was watching his feet, trying to step more quietly, and so he'd nearly reached the second floor landing before he realized there was someone on the stairs ahead of him, someone coming down. He heard her before he saw her, her own delicate steps echoing his own. He looked up to see a young girl perhaps Thad's age, her straight red hair in a tail over the shoulder of her severe black dress. She stopped when she saw he'd noticed her and crossed her arms with a scowl. "Shoulda known it was you making all that noise," she said, turning around and heading back up. "Well, come on."
"Excuse me?" Kane said. "What?"
"You're him? The heir?" the girl asked without stopping.
Kane hurried after her, Gabriel a few steps behind. "How did you know that?"
The girl snorted. "You're kidding, right?" She waved a hand toward a cluster of paintings on the wall of the stairway, ornately framed portraits of men and women with similar features and reddish hair. The girl stabbed a pointing finger at the painting on the end of the row, a portrait of two young men together, one standing, one seated.
They were clearly the same age, and had the same face - Kane's face. They wore coats of similar cut but in different colors. The muscular young man in the green coat stood with one hand on his sword hilt and the other on his brother's shoulder, smiling in defiance of the seriousness of the portrait. That's Cid, Kane thought. And that's…
The other figure, the seated one, was Kane's father. More slender than his brother, more serious, unsmiling, the young Redden sat straight-backed in his chair, hands folded over the book in his lap, his hair more red than white. He's so young, Kane thought, and yet the brown eyes looking out from the unlined face in the painting wore the same jaded expression Kane had always assumed to be a product of his father's age.
"Huh," Gabriel said. "You look just like them."
"Yeah," Kane said, stunned.
The girl, a whole floor above them by now, looking down on them over the railing, called, "Would you hurry up? You're late."
"Late?" Kane looked to Gabriel, who shrugged.
"I didn't tell them you were coming."
Intrigued, Kane hurried up the stairs. The girl waited on the landing, but she turned heel and headed down the hallway before Kane had caught up to her. "Wait!" he called. "You were expecting me?"
The girl nodded. "Days ago. Sarda said you were coming."
"Sarda?" Kane said. Hadn't his father told him about Sarda? "He's the black mage?"
"Where's your father?" the girl said, ignoring his question.
Kane cocked his head. "He's not here. It's just me."
The girl rolled her eyes. "Figures. I don't know why I even listen to that old coot. Well, come on." At the end of the hall, she opened a door onto a large, dark chamber, the only light a sliver slipping around the edges of a heavy, black curtain. The room smelled strongly of dust and urine; Kane's chest ached within seconds as he instinctively tried not to breathe. Gabriel only walked two steps before he turned back to the door and escaped into the hall, shaking his head.
"My lord?" the girl said. "He's here." She went to the large bed at the room's edge, speaking to the frail, stick-like figure within it, an old man with thin, limp, white hair. The girl tenderly smoothed the hair out of his face. "My lord?" she said again. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Father?"
The old man's lips moved, smacking against empty gums, but he said nothing.
The girl huffed. "Great," she spat, glaring at Kane. "He's having one of his days. Why couldn't you come when you were supposed to?"
"I… I didn't know I was supposed to. Nobody told me… Nobody told me anything. I only just learned I'm the heir to this place." He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing, then immediately regretted it as he nearly choked on the smell. For a confused and painful minute, he tried to catch his breath without breathing. The smell was in his mouth now, and he gagged.
The girl stood up, arms crossed as she glared. She rolled her eyes, stepping toward him and shoving him toward the door.
Redden left the manor in a daze. A pair of his West Hills guards waited outside and fell into step behind him, but Redden told them he was only going into town and that he would go alone. One began to protest, but then his gaze settled on Redden's face. The expression must have been terrible, for the young man stopped before he'd finished the first sentence.
Redden felt that expression, the bitter twist of his mouth, but he could no more control it in that moment than Jack could control the cold. He thought of the dark mage they'd captured the night of Scarlet's death, the cowardly man who wept and begged even as he drew from everyone who touched him. He claimed he couldn't control it either.
And then Redden thought of the other dark mage, the man who called himself Porter. Redden hadn't checked on him in days, not since they'd sedated him.
It hadn't been torture, not really, Redden told himself. He knew what torture looked like. But the man had been afraid - so afraid - under questioning that he had tried to Teleport away. Even drugged as he was, even with that hole in his belly. Redden had warned him that his body couldn't take the pressure. He'd wondered at the time why the man would have tried such a foolish thing, but now... Was it something the man couldn't control? Was that lack of basic control of the aether something all dark mages had in common?
Redden remembered how the man had screamed when he fell out of the spell before it even took. He tried to push the memory away, but even as he did, it changed, and the man on the table was no longer Porter at all but a much younger man, burn-scarred face twisted in agony as he screamed with Jack's voice.
He's one of them, Redden told himself. He'd been one of them this whole time.
When they were settled in a parlor on a lower floor, after an elderly maid brought them something cool to drink, Gabriel said, "So that was Lord Carmine?"
"Yes," the girl said.
"But who are you?" Kane said, his throat still stinging from whatever had been in the air in that room.
"I suppose I'd be your auntie, wouldn't I?" the girl said with a skeptical grin.
"You're really my father's sister?" Kane asked. He'd heard her call the old man 'father'.
"Half sister," she said. "What? You don't see the resemblance?"
"It's not that," Kane said. "It's just that you're so… Forgive me, I'm not used to having relatives. You're just so young."
She sighed. "Well, there aren't any younger, at least. I'm the last of them." She set her chilled glass aside, held her hand out to Kane. "Garnet Carmine," she said, grinning contritely. "I'm sorry I greeted you rudely. It's been a tough day."
"More than one day, looks like," Gabriel said.
"A tough always, then," Garnet said, shrugging. "I know it looks bad to outsiders, but it's normal enough to me. Lord Carmine's health started failing when I was a child-"
"You're still a child," Gabriel grumbled around his glass before he drank.
"A smaller child!" Garnet snapped. "By the gods! Where did you find this one? I think I hate him!"
"He has that effect on people," Kane said, setting his own glass down. The lightly flavored drink, water infused with fruit and herbs, couldn't overcome the smell of that room which still lingered in the back of his throat. He tried not to grimace as he put his thoughts in order. "Lord Carmine's been ill for several years, then? Who's been running this place?"
Garnet shrugged again. "Me and Sarda, with a few of the older servants."
"A kid and a crazy old man?" Gabriel asked.
Garnet glared at him briefly then turned to Kane. "We've written to Leiden more than once, told him we needed a steward or something. He never answers. Higgens - he's the gate guard - even took a trip to the city to petition him in person. Leiden wouldn't see him."
"What?" Kane said. "Why? How? How can he ignore this?"
"I'm guessing he's just waiting for father to die."
"To force Redden's hand," Gabriel said. "Leiden's never forgiven him for leaving Melmond."
Kane frowned, seeing that Gabriel was right. It made sense. If Lord Carmine died with no other heirs and no one to run his estate, Redden would have to come back if only to put his father's affairs in order. Honor would force him to. And ultimately that same honor would have forced him to send me here. How convenient, Kane thought bitterly, that his own stupid journey had brought him to Melmond's shores anyway.
In a flurry of skirts, the same maid who had brought them their drinks ran back into the room, frantic. "Mistress! Mistress, come quick! It's Sarda! He's on the roof!"
"Again?" Garnet snapped, leaping from her chair and rushing out the door.
Kane wasn't sure if he should follow. He looked questioningly at Gabriel, who shrugged as if to say they had nothing better to do. Kane ran, with Gabriel behind him.
Redden thought of how relieved he'd been knowing Kane would have a black mage with him on his journey, even before he'd decided to accompany them himself. How many times had Jack saved his son's life? Surely if he meant them harm, he could have achieved it by now. And yet if Jack was a dark mage...
Redden had been there when the dark mages rebelled in Cornelia. Only a few at first, but they had all joined the Brotherhood in the end. They'd found something, some power lost to history, too tempting for even the most loyal of dark mages to resist. How long before Jack gave in to that temptation?
He hardly remembered reaching the Blue Quarter, heading up the street toward Unne's purple and yellow mansion behind its wrought iron gate. He knocked on the door, and when Unne's servant - one of the maids - answered it, he had no idea what to say to her.
"Lord Carmine? I'm sorry, but Lord Unne isn't here," she said, looking nervously at his face.
"I've come for Jack," Redden said.
"He's upstairs," the girl said. "But he's most ill, sir. He told us he wasn't to be disturbed."
Redden pushed his way past her. "Upstairs where?"
"He's..." The maid pointed toward the staircase. Though she was clearly uncomfortable, she obviously knew better than to question a nobleman. "Second floor. Northwest hallway. All the way at the end."
He felt the cold before he'd made it halfway up the stairs, the sweat he'd worked up walking from the manor chilling against his skin. It was pleasant after the heat of the day but, gods damn it, it only served as a reminder of what Jack was, making Redden grind his teeth. The boy would betray them, if he hadn't already.
Kane hurried after the two women who argued as they raced up the stairs.
"How did this happen? We boarded up those windows!" Garnet said.
"We missed one, mistress. I'm sorry! We didn't know there was one off that old study."
"You were supposed to be watching him!"
"I only took my eyes off him for a second, mistress! You know how he is!"
They ran past Lord Carmine's sick room and through a door at the end of the hall into what seemed to be an unused room, all dusty trunks and covered furniture. Another servant was already there, hanging halfway out of a window and calling imploringly to someone outside.
"Move!" Garnet said, tugging roughly at the back of the man's shirt and leaning out the window herself. "Sarda!" she cried. "You idiot! Get back here!"
When Redden reached the door at the end of the hall, he grabbed the knob, almost turned it before he stopped himself. He would not burst in. Calm, he thought. Count to ten. Count to ten. But he couldn't do it. His temper threatened to boil over if he waited another second. It took every ounce of will he had left to keep from hammering at the door as he knocked once, and then again harder.
The door opened only a crack, revealing a sliver of Jack's face and a blue eye obscured by a white corona. "Redden? What-"
Redden pushed the door open.
Kane and Gabriel approached the window behind Garnet, looking over her shoulders. The window, meant to let light into the room and not as a manner of egress, opened onto Cormorant Hall's roof on the side of the house facing the sea. The roof slanted steeply, overhanging the cliffs. Far below, rocks like stone fingers jutted out of the water.
A man stood out there, swaying in the breeze, hooting in delight. Kane was shocked to see the man was quite naked, but his shock was quickly overshadowed by concern for the man's precarious situation.
"Gods!" Gabriel spat.
"Get us a rope!" Kane barked to the servant, who ran off.
"Why does he do this?" the maid muttered to herself as her companion zipped past her, returning with the rope in less than a minute. Kane took it and began unwinding it, spreading it over the floor.
"Sarda!" Garnet shouted. "If you don't get back here, there will be no pudding after supper! Ever!"
"Miss Garnet!" the naked man called. "Look! You can see the mermaids from here!"
"Sarda, gods damn it! Come back inside!"
Jack stumbled back as Redden pushed into the room. The cold hit him like a leaping beast, taking his breath away. It gave him a moment to gather his wits, to try to think against the temper that drove him.
The room was small for a house this size, perhaps not a room at all. A storage closet. It contained only a small cot piled with blankets and a narrow table piled with books and papers, a dozen or so candles there provided the room's only light. The room featured no window. The walls were covered with tapestries, most crooked, as though they'd been hung in haste in a feeble attempt to insulate the room.
He's put himself in a cell, Redden thought. He looked at Jack at last.
The mage had backed away from the door - from Redden - until he'd nearly wedged himself in a corner, his slender frame bulky under layers of clothing, topped by a coat that was too big around for him and too short at the waist, one of Unne's. He didn't have one of his normal, thin scarves on, but wore instead one knitted from thick, brown wool, wrapped around his face and neck several times. He looked like a street urchin in scavenged clothing, vulnerable, rather than the no-account bastard or the imposing black mage he played at being.
Playing, Redden thought, because he's not a black mage. He's something else.
"Make way," Kane said, wrapping the end of the rope around his waist, stepping toward the window.
"No!" Garnet snapped. "Are you as crazy as the old man? You're the heir of this house! You can't go out there!"
"Absolutely not," Gabriel said, grabbing his shoulder. "I'll go."
Kane started to argue, but Gabriel snatched the rope from him and the look he gave Kane brooked no argument.
Gabriel tied the rope around his middle with shaking hands, then passed the trailing length of it back to Kane, his face stiff. "Hold this," he said, and Kane could see terror in his eyes. "Don't let go."
Kane nodded.
"R-redden..." the mage stuttered, holding himself with a stiff posture that said he was trying not to shiver. "What are you doing here?"
Redden watched him, this awkward young man barely out of his teens. Was it all an act? Could he really be what Orin said he was? "Orin woke up this morning," Redden said.
Jack stood straighter at that. "He did? But that's wonderful!"
Redden shook his head, watching Jack's eyes for any sort of reaction. "When he woke, he said..." He didn't have to go on. The boy's eyes widened. He seemed to shrink. "Tell me it isn't true," Redden said, a harsh whisper.
Gabriel stepped cautiously out of the window, sliding a bit before he found his footing, his back to the roof tiles. The roof was steeper than Kane had first realized. He marveled that the old man hadn't fallen already, with as much trouble as Gabriel seemed to be having. He inched toward Sarda, with Kane slowly playing out the rope behind him, hardly able to breathe.
"Sir?" Gabriel called, for the man was facing the sea again, not paying him any mind.
Sarda turned to him and his smile broadened. "Master Gabriel! It's you! Is it time to go inside?"
"Um," Gabriel said, clearly surprised, but he rallied to this opening. "Yes. Yes, come on." He reached out, caught the old man's hand in a firm grip, and pulled him closer, maneuvering him so that he had one arm around Gabriel's shoulders and one hand holding the rope.
Redden waited, but Jack didn't answer. The room grew colder even as he stood there, and the shiver that ran up his spine drove him forward, until he was gripping the lapels of that ridiculous coat and shoving Jack back into the corner, losing his fragile hold on his temper at last. "Tell me it isn't true!" he demanded, shouting it.
"Redden! Please!" the boy cried, struggling, reaching for something, and Redden saw that it was a sword - his sword - which Jack wore at his waist beneath that over-large coat.
It was true. The boy was one of them, a dark mage, and now his true colors came to light. Redden grabbed the boy's arms, trying to force them away from the blade as the room grew colder and colder.
"No, please! I need- I only-" Jack begged, nearly incoherent, but Redden wouldn't listen. He would not die here, betrayed, run through with his own sword.
He rammed his knee into Jack's gut.
Kane hauled the rope back in, keeping it taut as Gabriel climbed. His hands burned as the rope pulled against them with the weight of the two men, but soon enough the burden was lifted as the servants helped them through the window. The manservant immediately closed and latched the window behind them.
Gabriel sat hard on the floor as if his legs had given out. Kane hurried to his side but Gabriel waved him off. "I'm fine," he said. "I just need..." He laid face down, pressing his cheek to the dusty floor. "I just need a minute."
"What in the name of all the gods, Sarda?" Garnet shrieked, drawing Kane's attention away from Gabriel.
By the window, the maid draped a blanket over Sarda's nakedness. Sarda, still smiling, made no move to hold it and it fell to the floor. "Garnet!" he said excitedly, as if he hadn't seen her in days. "Garnet! Look who it is! It's master Gabriel!"
"Is it?" Garnet said, picking up the blanket and forcefully covering him again. "Who's that, then?"
The old man laughed, that same odd hooting sound he'd made on the roof. "You know master Gabriel! He's your daughter's godfather!"
"Godfather?" Gabriel said from the floor, stunned.
"Daughter?" Garnet shrieked, disgusted. "I don't have a daughter, you disgusting old coot! I'm only thirteen!"
"Thirteen?" the man said, scratching his head. "No, you're twenty-eight, surely! Aren't you?"
Garnet crossed her arms, throwing him a practiced adolescent glare. "Do I look twenty-eight to you?"
Sarda looked at her, blinking, seeming genuinely confused. "Oh," he said simply. "Is it lunchtime then?"
Garnet massaged her forehead with one hand as she took a deep, steadying breath. "Yes," she said at last, in a voice of strained patience. "Just... sit. Sit there. Alison will go see to it." She traded glances with the maid, who nodded and hurried downstairs. "And Jordan will see about boarding up this window. Right. Now."
The manservant bowed quickly and left after the maid.
When the young man doubled over, wheezing, Redden managed to grip the sword's hilt in cold-numbed fingers, ripping it from the boy's belt, surprised when scabbard and all came free. The boy hadn't been wearing it, only holding it inside his coat. Jack croaked out a protest as Redden drew the blade, tossing the scabbard aside. He reached for the aether, to draw what he needed for a spellblade-
And he staggered.
The aether…
Jack held it. All of it. Every current in the room stood frozen in the boy's grip. He wasn't drawing it, but he was holding it. And it... it was massive, an avalanche of power Redden had never felt before. He stumbled back a step, stunned. He reached his senses toward the sword and he felt the boy's aura on it, his mind's tight grip on the focus spells, and Redden suddenly realized Jack hadn't been trying to attack him at all, had only been using the sword to control this... this sensation, this wrongness in the aether just on the edge of Redden's understanding.
He looked at Jack, still in the corner, eyes pinched shut, breathing heavily in fear, waiting for Redden to run him through. Gods, he's only a boy, Redden thought. He thought of the other dark mage, the prisoner who never stopped weeping. He says they can't help it… "I felt..." he said, grasping for an explanation. "I felt it. The aether. The pull of it..."
Jack shook his head, aether leaking from the corners of his closed eyes as tendrils of white smoke, like tears of mist.
Redden gaped, fumbling for words. "Is that what it's like for you? All the time?"
Jack looked at him then, eyes gleaming white. He nodded, rasping out a single, barely audible, "Yes."
"You can't help it..." Redden muttered, the realization sinking in. "You... you truly can't help what you are..." He reached for the aether again, feeling that frozen torrent, a pressure beyond description. He felt Jack's struggle. How had he kept it hidden all this time? What sort of strength did that take? He really might be the strongest mage I've ever met, Redden realized. "Is there any way to stop it?"
Jack ducked his head, looking at the floor. "If I draw from someone..."
"Ah..." Redden said, understanding at last. Orin had known. Orin had helped him. Perhaps that was all the Brotherhood offered: relief from the constant tug of the aether. Redden doubted that was all of it, but considering what he'd felt of Jack's struggles, he thought it might be enough. I couldn't do it, he thought. I couldn't live with that weight day in and day out. I would have given in.
Redden stepped toward him, sword in hand. Jack tried to step back, eyes wide, but his back hit the wall. He watched Redden approach, but made no move to defend himself. Redden wondered if he would even try.
But Redden wasn't attacking. Instead, he held the sword out to the boy, hilt first. "Take what you need," Redden said.
The boy nodded gratefully, reaching for the hilt, but Redden didn't let go. He shook his head and watched Jack's eyes widen in understanding. Then Jack nodded, the white corona of his eyes deepening to a dark, glittering black.
Kane moved back to the window, looking out, amazed by the steepness of the roof, the height of the drop to the breaking waves below. Garnet moved in beside him, shaking her head at the view. "Sorry you had to see that," she grumbled. "I told you he was crazy."
"My father mentioned it," Kane said. "But I didn't realize it was so... Is it always this bad?"
Garnet shook her head. "Only since his sister left. She used to take care of him, but she's been gone more than a year."
"I know," Kane said. "In fact, it's possible I know more than you do."
Garnet looked at him askance. "Leiden sent word that they'd found her. That she was dead. What more is there?"
"Let's talk downstairs," Kane said.
Garnet nodded. She turned to Sarda. "Let's find your trousers, old man."
Redden felt a sharp tug, uncomfortable, but hardly what he would call painful, over in an instant. He'd expected it, but still it shocked him. Jack was a dark mage. Redden hadn't been sure he believed it, not really, not until that moment.
Though he felt woozy, Redden kept his feet, but Jack fell, gasping, sliding down the wall behind him, drawing deep, ragged breaths like he'd been suffocating. Like he'd been running for his life and only now realized how futile it was to flee. When his breathing eased again, the black of his eyes faded to their usual blue, no corona at all, swimming with tears as he looked up at Redden.
Redden stepped back, but his legs buckled under him and he sank to his knees.
"Oh, gods," Jack said, voice breaking when he saw Redden fall. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry."
"For what? For existing?" Redden asked. He meant it flippantly, morbid sarcasm, but it came out harsher than he intended, an accusation, a damnation.
Jack, though, nodded agreement, and Redden realized that was exactly what Jack had been apologizing for. "I'm a monster," he said, burying his face in his hands.
"Lad," Redden said gently. He reached out to grip Jack's shoulder, ignoring the way Jack flinched at the movement. "Whatever you are, my son calls you brother."
"He doesn't know," Jack said. "None of them know. They would hate me."
"No," Redden said, but Jack shook his head.
"You did. You were going to kill me. If you hadn't been able to feel it..."
"I... hmm..." Redden sighed. He couldn't deny it. He patted Jack's shoulder one last time then turned to sit, leaning against the wall beside him and stretching his legs out along the floor. "That's because I underestimated you. Maybe... Maybe Kane is smarter than that."
Kane reached down to help Gabriel up. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'll never look out a window again," Gabriel said. He still shook somewhat when Kane hauled him to his feet.
Kane grinned. "Come on. Let's-"
"Warrior of Light."
Kane stopped, turning to Sarda. Sarda looked back at him wide-eyed, as if noticing him for the first time. Garnet looked from Kane to Sarda and back again, confusion writ plain on her features.
Kane stepped closer. "What did you say?"
The man stood straight in his ratty blanket, and when he spoke, his words were clear and deliberate, not the rantings of a madman. "'When the world is in darkness, the Light Warriors will come.' That's the prophecy."
"Yes," Kane said, mouth suddenly dry. "But how did you..."
"It's in the cave," Sarda said breathlessly. "The darkness. It isn't from there, but there it thrives. Scarlet held the darkness in the cave, you see. But now the seals are cracking. Will you break them, son of Cornelia?"
"Sounds like more nonsense," Gabriel said.
"It isn't," Garnet said. "That cave... Scarlet went there at every other full moon. She said something about sealing it, keeping it sealed. I'm not a mage. I never understood and she wasn't much for explaining."
"I sure hope he is," Kane muttered. He looked to Sarda. "Why would I break the seals?"
The old man looked at him, really looked at him. "There's only one aether, it never dies, you see, flowing through time, all of it at once. The seals can't stop it."
Kane nodded, but he was completely out of his depth. I wish Jack was here, he thought. Trying to understand, he said, "I know a black mage outside of Cornelia who said something like that once. She said time was like a river. Is that what you mean?"
Sarda smiled, nodding enthusiastically. "Downstream is easy."
"Yes!" Kane said, smiling back. "That's right. She said it was easier to see what's past than what's coming."
"Oh, things are coming. Things are coming!" Sarda chuckled, but then he sobered up again. "She's not the only black mage you know. The other one… he can't see time but he can touch it… he and I together! We're almost a whole mage!"
"Jack?"
The old man rolled his eyes. "Not Jack! You know! The little one! The boy! Steals things?"
"Oh, Shipman. I guess he's a mage too."
Sarda laughed, edging toward madness again. "You won't have to guess. You'll see! You'll see what's coming…"
Redden still felt weak, but his mind raced. Jack was a dark mage. But he was also a Warrior of Light. Like my son. Were all of the Warriors of Light more than they appeared? Not only was Lena a soul reader, she was a more powerful white mage than Redden had ever seen. They'd only recently learned Thad was a black mage, and capable of manipulating time to an extent. And now Jack... What does that mean for Kane?
"If you want me to leave-" Jack began.
"No," Redden said firmly. "No, you're staying with us."
Jack shook his head, shivering as he wrapped his arms around his knees. "It will happen again. I've looked for a way to stop it, but… I don't know that there is such a thing. No matter what I try, nothing helps."
"We know how to help you," Redden said, shrugging.
Jack shook his head again. "No. That can't be it. Drawing from other people like… what? Like some… some parasite? Some vampire?"
"Not as bad as all that," Redden said. "You saw the vampire. You, at least, are still human."
Jack shrugged. The sorrowful look in his eyes said he thought Redden was wrong but that he saw no point in arguing further.
"Lad," Redden said, prepared to do just that. "I think…" He stopped, wracked by a violent shiver. Now that the adrenaline of confronting Jack was wearing off, Redden noticed how cold it actually was in this tiny room. "It's bloody freezing in here. Can you walk?"
"Where?"
"Back to the manor," Redden said. "With the rest of us. Where you belong."
"Wait," Garnet said, interrupting Sarda's cackling laugh. "He's the Warrior of Light? The one you've been talking about?"
"Yes, of course!" Sarda said, smiling broadly. "Couldn't you tell?" He gestured toward Kane, and as he did, the tattered blanket shifted, revealing one bony shoulder. Garnet hurried to wrap it more securely around him again before looking at Kane doubtfully.
"No," she said flatly. "I don't see it."
Sarda only nodded, smiling, his eyes disconcertingly wide.
"I don't understand," Kane said.
Garnet shook her head. "If you're really the one..." She sighed. "He's been waiting for you. He's been waiting for you for years. Longer than I've been alive."
"For me?" Kane said. "What for?"
Garnet shrugged. "He says you're to take him with you."
"Take- What?"
"For the journey!" Sarda said excitedly, nodding with enthusiasm. "Let's go. I'm ready." He walked off toward the stairs, leaving Garnet behind, her hands still on the blanket. She protested as it fell, trailing behind him, but he marched off as proudly as a soldier on parade. He didn't seem to notice he was naked.
Author's Note: 3/1/19 - When I was a child, I dreamed of visiting a Disney theme park. I didn't care which one. I had this idealized vision of what the trip would be like. Imagine my surprise when, as an adult, I made my first visit and discovered it was just another place. A place with cool rides and cool decor, but still very much just a place (that was trying to sell me merchandise). Don't get me wrong, I had a ton of fun (and have been back since then), but the magic was gone.
That, on a grander scale, is what I imagine Kane is feeling in these past few chapters. He always wanted to be nobility, and now he is. He wasn't wholly ignorant of what that would entail, having grown up in a castle, but it's only just sinking in, I think. "Hey, uh, we need you rule this patch of land right here. Yeah, that one. The rough and downtrodden one." Poor guy.