Dal yanked the door closed and faced Master Raith. “I don’t see how we’re—”
Raith spoke an incantation and a flash of magic erupted from out of his drawn mace. The spell soared outward and struck the gold in the chest. With a gasp of surprise the man slumped to the ground.
“Oh, well, never mind then.” Dal grinned and brushed off his hands. “That’s one problem solved.”
“What did you do to him?” Corwin said, too leery of Raith to be relieved. The magist was both dangerous and unpredictable.
“He’s just asleep.” Raith bent toward the gold, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and pulled him onto his back. “He’ll wake in a few hours.” Rising, Raith turned to Corwin. “We’ve much to tell you, your highness, and little time.”
“Where’s Kate?” Corwin said, hands on hips.
“As far as we know she’s still alive. That’s part of what we need to discuss, if you’ll just listen.”
Reluctantly, Corwin pressed his lips together.
Raith reached into his robes and withdrew a sapphire magestone. “Before I can tell you anything, I must bind you to secrecy.”
Corwin took a step backward, his fisted hands rising up. “So it’s true. You are part of the Rising.” He glared at Raith, then at Dal. “Are you a part of this, too?”
Dal returned his glare. “I’m playing catch-up here, same as you. I’m just a step or two ahead is all.”
Corwin started to respond, but Raith cut him off.
“You have many questions and doubts, and I can give you answers, but only if you agree to this.” Raith held out the sapphire. “There are more lives than Kate’s at stake here, your highness, and I have vowed to protect as many as I can.”
Corwin glanced at Dal again. He stood leaning against a sofa in an attitude of boredom, but Corwin could see the tension running through his friend from the crease in his brow to the way his toe tapped slowly against the floor. “Did you take this vow?”
Dal nodded. “With no hesitation, especially not after the questioning the golds put me through. They are out for blood. It’s not just Kate and Bonner. I think they’ve taken Signe, too. She’s missing.”
“Missing?”
“Your highness,” Raith said with a hint of impatience in his voice. “The answers lie here.” He held up the sapphire once more.
Corwin regarded the magist, the weight of this decision pressing down on him. It was one thing to accept Kate as a wilder, but quite another to condone the Rising. Those wilders had caused destruction and death, like the Gregor family, massacred in their home. Kate trusts him, though, a voice argued in his mind.
“All right. I agree to keep the secret, but that does not mean I agree with the Rising’s actions.”
“Yes, understood.” Raith took a step toward him. “All we ever ask is a chance to explain ourselves.”
Corwin held out his hand and remained silent as Raith engaged the spell.
“Now that’s done,” Raith said, returning the ruined gem to his pocket, “it will be easiest if I start at the beginning.”
He launched into the tale, and Corwin listened, both rapt and incredulous as the master magist told him about his part in the Rising, and about Kate’s half brother, the very reason why Hale had attempted to stop Orwin from enacting the Inquisition that night. He described the way Kiran had grown up, hidden in the basement of the Sacred Sword. Hearing the story, it didn’t take long for Corwin to understand Kate’s reasons for all she’d done. She has a brother. She would’ve done anything to protect him.
Finally, Raith claimed that someone else had been making it look as if the Rising were behind the daydrakes. “But we’re not, your highness. Faking our sun lion symbol is an easy thing.”
Corwin remembered the variations in the drawings. Was this the reason for them?
“I swear it’s true. On my life, I swear it.” Raith placed a hand over his heart. “I knew Marcus Gregor personally. He was a wilder and a member of the Rising. All of his family had magic. That is why he withdrew support for your father once King Orwin enacted the Inquisition. We never would’ve attacked one of our own.”
This truth stunned Corwin, but it also made sense. He slowly nodded, remembering his suspicions about Storr and the Inquisition. “I believe you. On this point at least.” Despite Raith’s words that the Rising worked to keep rogue wilders from causing harm, they were still guilty of some violence.
But there were more pressing concerns just now. “Kate claimed that Storr was responsible for what happened to Hale,” Corwin said. “That he’d laid some kind of magical trap inside my father to catch him. But I wonder if Storr’s not responsible for even more.” He quickly told them about the conclusions he’d drawn earlier.
Raith listened, without speaking, until Corwin finished. “I don’t want to believe it’s true,” Raith said, his expression troubled, “that such corruption exists in the League, but I can’t deny it’s possible. I was unable to identify the man controlling the drakes at Thornewall on my trip to Penlocke, but I already knew he’d been caught by the Inquisition. Kate heard it in his thoughts before he died.”
A thrill of unease slid through Corwin at this revelation. What a power it was, to read men’s minds.
He shook the feeling off. “That makes three wilders involved who’d been caught by the League—that is, if we count what that woman in Tyvald told Dal. That’s too many to be a coincidence.”
“You’re right,” said Raith. “Though I don’t believe all the orders are involved. The blues most certainly aren’t. But the golds must be. Storr created the order himself at the start of the Inquisition. He would’ve picked magists loyal to him. And Kate and Bonner aren’t at their order house. I stole a look at the ledger yesterday. There are a few of the wilders captured during the raid on the Sacred Sword being held there, but not all of them.”
“What about Kiran?” Corwin asked, his gut clenched as he realized that if something happened to the boy, he was responsible. He never should’ve spied on Kate.
“Neither Kiran nor his mother is there,” Raith replied, distractedly. He nodded to himself. “It would seem the golds are being selective as to which wilders they take, leaving just enough for the Purging to avoid suspicion from the other orders.”
Corwin grimaced, seeing the brilliance behind it. Never before had he realized how separate the League’s orders were, even though he should have. What with their different-colored robes, individual houses. They were like children, siblings caught up in their own quest for autonomy.
Then the awful truth of what Raith was saying struck him, and he felt himself pale. “If Kate isn’t being held at the gold-order house, then where is she?”
“I don’t know. She and the others aren’t in the city. My people have been searching for them. Our only hope is to find proof of what they’re doing. It’s no good approaching Storr. He’s too well insulated. Perhaps we can force a confession out of Maestra Vikas. She was appointed by Storr, after all.”
Corwin slowly nodded, a sick feeling in his stomach.
“There’s only one thing that doesn’t make sense,” Dal said, standing up. “Why would the golds take Signe? She isn’t a wilder.”
“No,” Corwin agreed. “But she does have the secret to making her black powder. Combined with Bonner’s revolvers, that’s the key to a great power.” They might just kill her, Corwin thought with a glance at Dal, but he kept it to himself. He could guess Dal had already considered the possibility—he knew as well as Corwin did how much the revolvers threatened the League’s power. Storr had made his feelings on the matter clear with that letter in the Royal Gazette.
Deciding at last to fully believe Raith’s claims, Corwin returned his gaze to the magist. “Are you sure you’ve looked everywhere for them? What if we enlist more people to help?”