Well of the Damned

Chapter 18





The clothes Gavin had been wearing the first time he visited King Arek had since been torn into rags and used to clean the palace, and so he hoped his new wardrobe wouldn’t be too much of a shock. His boots, too, had been taken apart and used in the tack room of the stable, and his new boots were shiny and black, kept that way by his attendant, Quint.

“Lend me your gift once more,” he said to Daia. “I want to talk to King Arek about the wellspring, to see if Sevae’s journal is even worth pursuing.”

He went to the bookcase opposite the fireplace. On a middle shelf was a wooden chest, which he carried to his desk. Atop the chest sat a wooden gargoyle figurine with onyxes for eyes, protecting its contents. Anyone who touched the gargoyle received a nasty shock, and according to the merchant who sold the magical locks, anyone attempting to open the box by cutting it with a saw would suffer the same punishment. Gavin couldn’t find any volunteers willing to try it, but he had no reason to doubt the merchant’s word.

He lifted the gargoyle, set it on his desk and opened the chest. Inside, he kept the two runes of summoning, the rune of time, and two rings bearing equal halves of the blue moonstone he’d removed from the rune tablet. He handed the smaller ring to Daia, put the larger one on the middle finger of his right hand, and withdrew the rune of time before closing the chest and replacing the gargoyle on its lid. The rune he would need to back-travel, and the rings he would need to find Daia and tap into her gift from King Arek’s time.

Daia put the ring on her left ring finger and sat down. “I’m ready. Do you remember how to do this? It’s been three months.”

“I remember.” He went to the door and combed through his hair with his fingers, feeling a little nervous about meeting with the king he’d so long revered. They were friends, he reminded himself. Arek would help him. King Arek was the only person who knew Gavin’s secret: that he was Arek’s champion, Ronor Kinshield, reborn.

For years, Gavin had carried the burden of thinking he was forgetting something — something important. Certain sounds would trigger distant memories and images that made no sense to him. It wasn’t until Daia had read to him the letter written by his ancestor, Ronor Kinshield, that Gavin began to realize he was Ronor’s re-embodied spirit. He’d reneged on a promise to his king, locking him in a cycle of dying and returning, a cycle he hoped had finally been broken by Gavin fulfilling that promise and accepting the crown. Along with the reign, he’d inherited the magic of Wayfarer, which he used to travel from realm to realm, and with the rune, from time to time.

Nine forty-five in the morning o’the eighth o’Nevebria, in the year fourteen thirty-one.

With the date and time in the forefront of his mind, Gavin whispered the name of the rune: “Taendat.” With his hidden eye, he saw what looked like a small cyclone of red, about his own height. It changed color every few seconds, going from red to orange to yellow, through the colors of the rainbow. He waited until it turned to blue, the color of the human realm, and moved into it, traveling two hundred fourteen years into the past. His stomach lurched and somersaulted.

He put a hand against the wall to steady himself. When the room finally stilled, the furniture was styled and positioned differently than in his own library, and the color of the walls was yellower, but it was just as he remembered. Daia was gone, and a man of about thirty years with raven-black hair stood at the window, looking out. He was even wearing the same black long-sleeved shirt and trousers and golden belt he’d been wearing when last Gavin visited.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you again, Arek.”

Arek turned with a smile on his face. “Gavin, I was hoping you’d return. You left rather abruptly, and so I thought you might need time to recover. Remember my warning this time.”

Gavin smiled. The last time he visited, he’d started to say something that could have changed Arek’s future, which, from Gavin’s perspective, was Thendylath’s past. For his efforts, he was slammed back to his own time with a headache so severe, he passed out and had to be carried up the inn’s stairs by three of his battlers. “I should’ve listened to my instinct.”

Chuckling, Arek took a seat. “You’re looking well — more relaxed than you were last time I saw you. That was only a few minutes ago from my perspective. How long from yours?”

“A few months have passed for me, and my biggest challenge was faced and conquered. All I got to worry about now is a wet crop from too much rain.”

Arek gestured to the chair beside him. “Please make yourself at home— though I suppose this is your home as much as it is mine, yes?”

Gavin nodded. “My library is furnished like this. I come here to think and ponder questions.”

“Which question has brought you—” Arek blinked hard, as though a thought had startled him. He held up a finger and stared for a moment into Gavin’s eyes, his brow knitted. “You returned to this particular time. I would like to know why, but I suppose I can guess. It has to do with my plan to take Ronor with me to Ritol’s realm, doesn’t it? Wait. Don’t try to answer that.”

Gavin fidgeted. He didn’t want to tell Arek he had only a few days left to live, nor could he if he’d wanted to. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway — the plan Arek had intended would have been no more effective than the one he’d carried out. He didn’t have what he needed to defeat Ritol. He didn’t have Daia.

At last, Arek leaned back into his chair, more relaxed. “I’ll contemplate that later. Now, back to my original question. What has brought you back to see me?”

“The matter of the Well of the Enlightened has risen. Can you tell me about it?”

Arek’s eyes hardened, and his jaw clenched as he shook his head fervently. “Leave it be, Gavin. I beg of you. Leave it be. Nothing good will come of meddling there.”

Arek’s words served only to intensify Gavin’s curiosity. “Why? What is it?”

With his lips pressed together, the older king stared at Gavin for a moment, still shaking his head. “It’s a source of destructive magic that cannot be reversed, guarded by a being that cannot be killed. As you know, my own royal apothecary, the man I trusted to mix herbs for myself and my family, betrayed me, betrayed all the people of Thendylath, in an effort to control the spring for its magical properties.”

“Crigoth Sevae,” Gavin said, nodding. “But wasn’t he a mage?”

“Yes, he is, but his duties here were primarily to mix herbs, not perform magic. He doesn’t understand how dangerous the wellspring’s waters are. He thinks he can use them to heal people.”

Gavin knitted his brow in confusion. “Can it heal? It’s just water, isn’t it?”

“Listen to me carefully, Gavin. Let me tell you in no uncertain terms the Well of the Enlightened is misnamed. It has caused the deaths of thousands of people and has razed an entire city. I tried to tell Sevae that, but he’s convinced those are nothing but fairy tales. He’s so convinced, in fact, that he would commit regicide for his chance to prove me wrong. Or right, as the case may be.” Arek leaned forward and gripped Gavin’s forearm painfully hard. “I implore you to leave it be.”

Though his curiosity wasn’t sated, he trusted Arek’s wisdom. The last thing he wanted was for someone sharing Sevae’s passion to reach it and use its power against the people of Thendylath. “It’s well-guarded then? Tell me about its guardian.”

“Damn it, Gavin!” Arek’s entire body shook with anger. “If you don’t trust me when I tell you to stay away from the wellspring, if you don’t believe what I just told you about its destructive power, then you’re alone in this.”

Gavin tried to interject, to reassure Arek that wasn’t his intent, but the king seemed not to hear him.

“I won’t help you get closer to it. I won’t help you destroy yourself and the country I love.” Arek stood, his body rigid, his eyes alight with fury. “I’ve got a demon hunting me, and no time to waste on this foolishness. I hope to see you again sometime, Gavin, and when I do, I hope you don’t try to kill me.” He went to the door and opened it.

“Arek, wait.” Gavin stood, opening his hands helplessly. “I believe you. I trust you to my bones. I know you, remember, and you know me. The well is dangerous – I understand – but I need to make sure it’s well protected.”

Arek turned. “It is, damn it. I’ve told you that. Now leave me. I must focus on my upcoming battle.”

Gavin stared at the library door, stunned at Arek’s staunch refusal to give him the information he needed. He understood Arek wanting to protect people from whatever was wrong with the water in the wellspring, but Gavin’s desire to protect his people was equally strong. He would be better off knowing and understanding the nature of the infamous wellspring than to accept on faith that the people were safe from its dangers.

He used his hidden eye to inspect the ring on his right hand. Its gem, spelled with what was ultimately a lover’s bind, had a haze that connected to the gem in Daia’s ring by a thin thread disappearing into nothingness. He felt along the thread with his intent, past the boundary of time and space, to her conduit, then focused on opening a vortex back home. He stepped through it once again and found her sitting in the chair, tapping its arms nervously.

“You’re back,” she said, standing. “How was your meeting?”

Gavin shook his head. “When I asked about the wellspring, he got defensive and warned me to leave it alone.”

“Perhaps it’s sound advice.”

He had every intention of leaving the wellspring alone. Going there was never in his plan. “Well, if I’m going to find out what’s so special about it, I’ll have to let Cirang take me to the journal.”

She had a doubtful look on her face. “Are you sure you want to know? What if someone gets a hold of the journal and becomes obsessed the way Sevae did?”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him summoning Ritol to eat my soul,” Gavin said with a snort. To be sure, he would destroy those runes. They were the only two ever created, and the knowledge of how to create them was forever lost.

“There are other ways to kill a king, you know.”

He winked at her. “With a vusar as my champion?” he asked, using the Farthan word for the mystical conduit. “I’m practically invincible. Look, if we leave the journal wherever Cirang has it hidden, someone might find it anyway. It’d be safer here, locked away.”

She nodded her agreement. “You’re right. So when are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll stop at the gaol and get Cirang on our way out of Tern.”

“Who do you want with us?”

Gavin looked at the list Jophet had given him of the battlers accompanying Feanna to Ambryce and those remaining behind. He chose Brawna and Vandra to guard Cirang, along with himself and Daia. Edan would stay here to take care of official business in his stead.

She shook her head with a wary expression. “He’s not going to be happy about that.”

“I’ll convince him.”