“You’re not making any sense,” Thealos said after a pause. His heart hammered in his chest. “Who are you…really? How did you know Justin was supposed to be there?”
“You’re doubting whether you can trust me,” Jaerod said. “Have I earned your trust so far?”
“Yes, but I don’t know who you really are, Jaerod. You’ve already said that Allavin is waiting for you. I assume you also know why?”
“He thinks I killed a group of Shae scouts,” Jaerod replied.
“Did Talbin’s men tell you?”
“Yes. They were left to warn me in case the Kiran Thall chased you into Castun. Thealos, I don’t have much time to waste convincing you of my sincerity in this matter. I’ve never shed the blood of a Shae. Take me at my word, or walk away from me. But I brought you here for a reason.”
Thealos stood still, trying to feel if the man’s words rang true. Vannier help him, but they did. “What do you want from me, Jaerod?”
“When I arrived in this land, I went into the Shoreland first. I was there long enough to search the ruins of the watchpost and to see what was going on in the Shadows Wood. From there I left for Avisahn to get you. Allavin Devers is also a Shaefellow. And so am I. This is all about the Everoot. Do you still have the portion I entrusted to you?”
“Yes,” Thealos replied, patting the front of his vest.
“And you’ve been watering it?” the Sleepwalker pressed. “Give it to me.”
Thealos withdrew the damp sack and pressed it into Jaerod’s palm. He felt the tingling prick of Earth magic leave him as he passed it over. The Everoot murmured to him soothingly, speaking to his Silvan senses of taste and sound.
There was silence between them. “You found it…useful?” Jaerod asked.
“It saved us against the Krag,” Thealos answered, feeling the presence of the Everoot itch at him. Somehow, it didn’t feel right – it didn’t belong in Jaerod’s hands. The magic belonged to the Shae, to those who would use it properly.
“Hmmm. You used too much of it,” Jaerod muttered. “As soon as I took it away, you began craving it again, didn’t you? This is how it begins, Thealos. This is part of the danger inherent in so strong a Silvan magic. It’s the nature of Silvan magic to want to harness and control it. Be careful, Thealos.” Jaerod’s firm hand rested on his shoulder. “Be very careful not to heed those feelings.”
Thealos stared up at the Sleepwalker. “I don’t understand. I’ve used it as you showed me...”
“No, you didn’t. I only use it to heal others. Never myself. I’m thankful I didn’t leave you alone with it for too long. By morning, the craving will have faded and you’ll see it for what it is. You remember Tannon’s Band, don’t you? How much they wanted your blade? It’s the same thing. Only, it feels different when it happens to you. I’ve never let Everoot heal me. And for this reason, I never will. Let me safeguard it for now, Thealos. Whether you use it again, I will let you decide on your own. After you’ve heard what I came here to tell you – what I brought you here for.”
Thealos clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I’ll have faith in you a little longer then.”
“Thank you,” he murmured sarcastically. “I am a man of secrets. My particular profession requires that. Yet what I have to tell you tonight, the others have a right to learn too. It affects all of us. But right now, I’m afraid Devers won’t trust me if I just walk in there and say I want to talk peacefully. I don’t want to fight him or the knight and cause a stir that will have everyone’s tongues wagging. I move in secret where I can. Go back inside and call a Shaefellow Pax.” His voice dropped lower, more distant. “We don’t have much time before the Bandits move out of the woods. It may even happen tonight.”
XXII
Xenon knelt in the dry scrub of dead cedar and turned earth and dug his fingers into the soil. His Shae senses were stung with fetid harshness, and the smell made him scowl as if he’d just breathed in the scent of a moldering corpse. Ashes and dross had been buried here – in the Silvan way. Yet beneath the corrupted soil, he felt in the distance the elusive presence of the Forbidden. The entire Shadows Wood reeked with it.
Xenon shook the stinking earth from his hand and muttered a quick prayer of purification to Keasorn.
“The Kilshae is keeping the traditions,” Kitrey offered, bending nearby. The trowel marks were obvious beneath the layer of scrub.
Xenon looked at him. “Or pretending to.” Kitrey was a little taller than Xenon, more willowy and graceful, but their skills were equal. Xenon rose slowly, seeing the glowing eyes of the brothers of two other quaeres with small lanterns. “There are too many tracks and confusing signs in this place,” he announced, “but one thing is clear. Forbidden magic was used in this spot. This wayward child is swimming in deep waters. The instructions from the Sunedrion are very clear. He must be brought to justice.”