The name stung Exeres like salt in his eyes. “Yes! That was her name! Sweet Achrolese, she’s done something to me. I can only remember bits of it. But I know she can hear what I’m saying. That she can see you now through my eyes.”
The man in robes spoke, his voice soft and compelling. “You’re right. She is here.”
Exeres turned to face him. “You’re one of them.”
The man had green eyes. It was the last thing Exeres noticed before his long, thin arm raised up, holding the tortured orb.
Before the wreaths of fire struck him.
Chapter XIV
It was nearly dusk when the barge thumped against the dock pilings in the city of Sol. Thealos parted the flap of the canvas and recognized the wharves dedicated to the kingdom of Avisahn. One of the two quaeres converged near the docking ramp, Xenon at the forefront. He looked at the canvas flap and scowled at Thealos.
“Stay inside. We’re going to ask the harbormaster for a larger ship to bring us the rest of the way to Jan Lee. We won’t be long.”
Thealos stared at him, gritting his teeth. “It would be faster to cut straight through the valley to the Shadows Wood from here. You know that.”
Xenon snorted and climbed the dock ramp. He turned to the other Wolfsman Lor. “If that thing comes, shove back off into the waters. If it attacked in Avisahn, it will attack here as well.”
“As you say,” the other Lor said with a curt nod and resumed pacing the foredeck of the barge.
Thealos swore just loud enough for them to hear and let the flap fall. He went back to the cot and sat down on it. But he had no intention of staying captive.
Pulling out the small bag that Lucyanna had given him, he opened the drawstrings and emptied the stones into his hand. After fingering them a moment, he found the three he was looking for and put the other two back into the bag and stuffed it in his pocket. The stones were warm in his palm and grew warmer as he thought about them. One for sight, one for sound, and one for smell. Gripping them, he closed his eyes and summoned their magic. Warmth settled through him, but no smell of Earth magic came from the stones. Rising from the cot caused no creaking or stretching. His boots were as soft as pillows on the floor.
He could still see himself. If Lucyanna was right, no one else would be able to though. No better time to test it.
Thealos grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He then secured the bow and the scabbard next and listened for the Wolfsmen prowling around the barge, alert and vigilant. He took a small hunting knife and went to the corner of the canvas, behind the crates of provisions. Listening for the footfalls of the next Wolfsman, he waited until the man had passed around the corner before slicing open the canvas. Nothing—not even a whisper.
After ducking outside, Thealos followed the man around the next corner to the dock ladder. The Lor stood right by it, his eyes on the planks above. His jaw was tense, as if he expected the creature to attack from nothingness. Thealos felt odd walking to the ladder and starting up the rungs. No one saw him go.
With a smile, he hurried down the dock to the main street and joined the crowds as the trading for the day came to a close. Someone bumped into him and he nearly fell.
“So sorry…” The Shae barter who had done so looked confused and startled, since he obviously didn’t see what or who he had stumbled into.
Thealos bit his lip and hurried through the crowd, running because it did not matter—no one could hear him or see him. Was it truly magic like this that the Sleepwalkers used to disappear? He could not help but wonder. It was a heady feeling—a powerful feeling. How easy it would be to slip a small knife over and lift someone’s coin pouch. Or to overhear a conversation without being invited.
Or to kill a man in his sleep.
Thealos brushed the thoughts from his mind. Why would he care to do something like that? He was not a thief…or a killer. He could understand a little better why people distrusted the Sleepwalkers in general. Jaerod’s abilities had unnerved him from the start.
He walked and jogged through Sol, remembering a way out of the city from when he had left with Jaerod, Ticastasy, and Flent so many weeks ago. There was a porter door on the south wall of the city. For a few Aralonian pieces, the porters would open it at any hour. To his left, he saw the Sheven-Ingen wharves and was pricked by memories. So much had happened there. Though he was tempted to stop by the Foxtale and see, he did not. He had gathered enough provisions to make it all the way to Landmoor. Hunger would not be his enemy this time.
The sun finished setting when he arrived at the south doors. He released control of the stones as he emerged from the alley so that the doormen would see him. The magic drained out of him, leaving a feeling of sadness in its wake.
“Hold there, friend,” a doorman said, raising a lantern. “I said hold there!”
“Sweet Achrolese, a Shae. Banned glowing eyes startled me.”