‘Who?’ Annev asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.
‘Myjun,’ Sodar said, nodding at the phoenix glove. ‘She did a good job duplicating Breathanas’s banner. The phoenix is much smaller, but it almost looks like it was done by the same person.’
Annev frowned. ‘You … you knew she’d made this for me?’
Sodar nodded. ‘She came to me about the design. She was going to do a red and black chequered pattern – something simple and sober, like the robes her father wears – but when I showed her the banner she decided to copy the phoenix instead.’ He smiled, his eyes sad. ‘She’s a sweet girl, Annev. You could do far worse, and she means well. I hope it ends well.’
Sodar pointed to the dark brown bottle. ‘You should drink some now. The initial effects can be disorientating, and you’ll want to be ready for your journey.’ He walked to his chambers and stopped in the doorway, his back still turned.
‘Goodbye, Ainnevog.’
He pulled the door shut.
Chapter Fifty-One
Annev stared at the wooden door. His vision blurred and only then did he realise his tears had returned in force, flowing down his cheeks.
I could go with him, he thought, wiping at his eyes. It’s not too late. We could go before Tosan found out …
But Tosan would find out. The headmaster expected to see Annev in an hour, and if he wasn’t at the stables Tosan would search for his newest Master Avatar, Regaleus or no. And Sodar couldn’t leave until he’d given the final Regaleus sermon – when Annev would be well on the road to Banok.
Annev hated Sodar for making him choose between the life he wanted and the life fate supposedly wanted for him – and he hated himself for hating Sodar. He choked back a sob and stormed over to the peg holding his water bags. He snatched up the sling, cinched it tight around his waist, and stuffed the phoenix banner inside one of the large waterproof pockets. He was about to stuff the brown bottle inside too when he remembered Sodar’s counsel.
Annev uncorked it and sniffed the contents. Though pungent, it smelled vaguely of warana and anise. He hesitated, but he trusted Sodar not to poison him. Holding his breath, he upended the bottle and began to drink. He spluttered and gagged and swallowed almost a third of the spicy liquid before he remembered Sodar’s warning and stopped. He wiped his lips and felt a sharp burning sensation coat his throat and spread through his chest. He started to feel flushed and the room spun alarmingly. Annev blinked, steadying himself, and the world righted itself again.
Annev shook off the effects of the elixir, recorked the bottle, then slipped it into the second waterskin. As he packed the phoenix lantern into the same pocket, he felt his fatigue slowly melt away until his exhaustion had completely vanished. He felt good – awake and alert, strong and steady.
Annev stared at the axe and sword lying on the table and wondered if it was wise to take them on his mission. He guessed they would be safer in his master’s quarters or hidden in the nave as Sodar had suggested, but his mission was a lethal one and if blood was to be spilled Annev wanted the best weapons at his side.
He tucked both into his makeshift belt and cinched it tighter, then he walked around the room, testing the feel of the weapons’ weight against his hips. When he was out of reasons to linger, he glanced once more at Sodar’s firmly closed door and then ran from the rectory.
Dusk had fallen and the final Regaleus celebration had begun in earnest when Annev reached the stables. He had hoped to drop his things in his room before saddling the horses, but Fyn, Master Brayan and Titus were waiting for him. Annev forced a smile at the sight of his old friend – now dressed in tan steward garb – but before he could embrace the lad, Fyn stepped between them and pressed a cold packet of black clothing into his arms.
‘Put these on.’
Annev didn’t have to ask why – Fyn was already dressed in his retrieval clothing – but he chafed at Fyn’s command all the same.
And so it begins.
Annev nodded to Titus by way of apology and the boy waved back at him. Despite his demotion, he seemed happier than he ever had as an acolyte. Kenton arrived then and Fyn gave him a similar packet of clothes as Annev reluctantly peeled off his crimson tunic. By the time he and Kenton were dressed, Brayan and Titus had brought out the horses, each one saddled and ready to ride.
‘We’ve only got five at the moment,’ the quartermaster clucked, ‘but these three are the best of the lot. Mind the black rouncy – she bites.’ After allocating each boy a horse, Brayan apologised that no other masters would be seeing them off. ‘Elder Tosan’s gone to worship services with near all the ancients, and most of the masters are already celebrating.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll do fine, though.’ Titus gave Annev a wordless hug and then he and Brayan left without any fanfare or further farewells.
Annev had shed his improvised belt and now stowed it in his saddlebags along with his coin purse. He watched Kenton and Fyn stow their own possessions and saw Fyn pass Kenton a sleek, curved sword, which the boy promptly slipped under his saddle blanket. Fyn offered Annev a battered shortsword with a broken tip but frowned when he saw the sword and axe already strapped to Annev’s saddle. ‘I was going to give you this,’ he said, ‘but I see you’ve already got weapons.’
‘I have,’ Annev said, ‘but I could do with that belt.’ He gestured at the cord tied to Mercy’s scabbard.
Fyn grunted and untied the thin leather strap, passing it to Annev. ‘Where’d you get those? I’ve never seen them in the armoury.’ He reached for the sword and Annev slapped his hand away.
‘These are mine,’ Annev said, almost growling, and paused to calm himself. ‘Master Avatars can choose or commission their own weapons.’
Fyn huffed but drew his hand back. ‘Why do you need a weapon at all? Kenton and I are the ones who have to kill Duvarek and Janak.’ If the boy seemed anxious about that prospect, he didn’t show it. If anything, he seemed eager. He leaned in, his mouth close to Annev’s ear. ‘Just stay out of my way and don’t steal my kill.’
Annev leaned back to see Fyn’s face and tried to determine if the boy was serious. Unfortunately, it seemed he was. ‘I’ve killed enough folk this week, Fyn – and I’ve no interest in taking anything from you.’
The taller boy laughed. ‘I doubt that. I stopped you from becoming an avatar plenty of times. Only makes sense you’d do the same to me. Whatever Tosan said.’
‘I guess that’s the difference between us – one of many.’ Annev stepped into his stirrup and hoisted himself atop the black rouncy. ‘Anyway, I don’t see your weapons. Planning to kill Janak with your bare hands?’