Tam scrunched his face. “How can you call me innocent, Rez? I’ve killed before.”
“That is how their definition differs from yours. The ro live in the same world as the rest of us but see it differently. Many of you know the darkness exists, but it is apart from you. Every once in a while, you are forced to interact with it. Maybe you are robbed or must kill in defense of a friend, but those times are exceptional to you. People like you see beauty and goodness in others, you seek adventure for the sake of adventure, and you believe that good will prevail. You walk in the light.”
Rezkin glanced at Farson. “I was taught that the ro were inconsequential. In the real world, the light gets little done. To make a difference, one must travel in darkness. The Adana’Ro recognize this as well, but they believe the darkness should remain within the darkness. They believe it is their duty to protect the ro and not just in a physical sense. They protect the ro from becoming a part of the darkness, to preserve their innocence.”
“But you said they are assassins. Isn’t that hypocritical?”
“They walk in the darkness so you do not have to. You are ro, Tam, but I have been training you to be a warrior. I believe it is in your best interest to know about the world, about the darkness, so that you can protect yourself from it. I have introduced you to parts of the darkness you would never have known as a carpenter’s apprentice. I have been actively drawing ro into the darkness, and not just you. In the eyes of the Adana’Ro, this is the most wicked of crimes.”
“How would they know what you’ve been doing? Why would they care? Men are trained for the military or join up with thieves and bandits all the time. I don’t hear about an army of assassins swooping in to save their innocence.”
Rezkin sighed. “I attracted their attention a while back, and they have been trying to find and follow me ever since.” He noted the shared look between Farson and Kai, and he knew they would have questions. “By the time I find them, they will have already figured out what I have been doing.”
“So what? You’re a king. You are supposed to create an army. That’s what kings do.”
Rezkin said, “They have other reasons to be interested in me.”
While Tam might not follow through on that line of thought, Rezkin knew that, with the seed planted, the strikers would not stop until they knew his secrets. It was inevitable that they would figure it out, eventually.
“This is one of those things you’re not going to tell me, isn’t it?”
Rezkin tilted his head. “If I do not go to them, they will continue to seek me, and there is a greater chance one of you will get hurt.”
“But you said they protect the innocent!”
“They seek to protect you from becoming one of us. Some of them would rather see ro dead than tarnished.”
“So, you’re saying that you’re going into a den of assassins who hate you and would kill me so that I don’t end up like them.”
“Now, do you see why you cannot go with me?”
“How is the garden?” said Frisha.
Apprentice Mage Aplin Guel stood from where he had been planting new seedlings in the freshly tilled soil. He wiped his hands on his robes and tossed chocolate locks from his eyes.
“Greetings, Lady Frisha and Lord Tieran. The plants are doing well out here. We are still having trouble getting anything to grow in the city, though. I think maybe it has to do with the soil.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, soil needs decaying plant material, insects, worms and the like if new plants are to survive. Otherwise, well, it is just sediment. Nothing was living within the city for the longest time. Mage Morgessa is considering replacing what is there with fresh soil from beyond the corveua.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
Tieran said, “Show her your project.”
Frisha forgave him the interruption upon hearing the excitement in his voice.
Aplin chuckled and said, “Ah, Lord Tieran, I do not think Lady Frisha would be interested—”
“Nonsense, it is fantastic. Show her.”
Frisha smiled at the mage’s endearing embarrassment. Aplin was a handsome young man a few years her senior. According to his masters, he already had several accomplishments to his name, not that he ever spoke of them,. Aplin was not the sort to brag.
“Yes, my lord, if you insist.” He glanced at Frisha and said, “Please, come this way, Lady Frisha.”
Little white creatures scurried between them, lugging pots and gardening tools to various parts of the garden. The mage led Frisha and Tieran around a path and through another garden to a newly constructed building that lay just outside the corveua. It had a stone frame and was open on the sides and top. She could not see them, but Aplin explained that the open spaces were covered by wards.
“We can change the wards to permit different amounts of light, water, and air.”
“I suppose that sounds important,” Frisha said. “I have heard that some plants prefer more light than others.”
Aplin smiled. He smiled often, Frisha had noticed, and his smile was easy, genuine. “Yes, and this structure allows us to control many factors that are important for experimentation. I have never seen one so simple to maintain. Journeyman Battle Mage Wesson made the wards. I am ashamed to admit that, like the other mages, I was skeptical that someone with a natural destructive affinity could create anything this efficient and stable. These wards are much simpler in design than what I am used to seeing, and they require less frequent charging. I would love to be able to create something this refined.”
“Have you considered working with him?” Frisha said.
“Me? Oh, no. I have not worked up the nerve to approach him.”
“You are afraid to speak to Wesson? I’m sure he would be happy to meet you. He is knowledgeable and kind, very much like you.”
“Th-thank you, Lady Frisha,” he said.
His gaze dropped to the ground, and Frisha realized how her words had sounded even though she had spoken only truth.
Tieran cleared his throat. “Shall we see your work?”
“Oh, yes! Here,” Aplin said as he skirted a massive table in the center of the structure, leading them toward the rear. On either side were long tables covered with potted plants, sacks of soil, pitchers, and gardening tools. At the end of the room was a small tree. Its trunk was bent, and its gangly limbs were twisted to fit within the confines of the building. The bark was nearly black, and the leaves were small, crimson things with many points. Amongst the leaves were orange and purple orbs of varying sizes.
“This is what I made,” Aplin said, and Tieran grinned in appreciation.
“You made a tree?” said Frisha.
Aplin looked at the plant again. “Ah, I guess it does look like a tree now that it has grown. It is actually a mass of vines. They are so tightly entwined that it looks like a single, large trunk. I did not make it exactly. I mean, we cannot create life, but we do breed different plants together to develop new ones.”
“Don’t farmers do that kind of thing?”
“Yes, but we tweak them with vimara. Sometimes we are able to combine plants in ways that would not be possible under mundane conditions. It is like making a mage material, only with something living. We call them vimaral plants. Some mages do it with animals, but the practice is highly regulated by the Mage Academy, and it is almost impossible to obtain the necessary permits. There are fewer restrictions on creating vimaral plants. This one is a combination of the beans we brought on the ship and a plant one of the mountain men collected somewhere across the bowl.” He frowned. “I think we are all tired of beans. We have not identified many edible native plants on the island, at least not any that taste good. Lord Tieran has been encouraging us to make something more appetizing.”
Tieran grinned and rocked on his feet. “It is a serious priority.”