“Grinder,” the boy said as she entered the station.
“Nary,” she greeted him, and it took effort not to bow. He looked so much like his father—the same lines, the same clarity in his eyes, the cut of his mouth—the lineage of the emperor so obvious.
“Were you followed?” Jerish asked.
She smirked.
“A Cenzar cannot be followed?”
“No,” she said bluntly. “Everyone still thinks I am loyal to the cause. Now we have to be quick. Here.” She held out the necklaces. “This one is for you, Nary, and this is Jerish’s. Put them on and never take them off. Do you understand me? Never take them off. They will hide you from magical eyes, protect you from enchantments, allow me to find you when the time is safe, and even provide you with a bit of luck.”
“You intend to fight them?”
“I will do what I can.” She looked at the boy. Her efforts had to be for him now, for his safety and his return.
“You cannot save Nareion,” Jerish told her bluntly. She looked at the boy and saw his lips tremble.
“I will save what is dearer to him, his son and his empire. It may take time—a long time, perhaps—but I swear I will see the empire restored even if it costs me my life.” She watched as they slipped the necklaces on. “Be sure to hide him well. Take him into the country, assume the life of a commoner. Do nothing to draw attention, and await my call.”
“Will these really protect us from your associates?”
“I will have no associates after today.”
“Even old Yolric?”
She hesitated. “Yolric is very powerful, but wise.”
“If he is so wise, why is he with them? Is it not wisdom to preserve the empire and show loyalty to the emperor?”
“I am not certain Yolric is with them. He has always remained an island. Even the emperors do not influence him. Yolric does as he wishes. I cannot say what he will do. I hope he will join with me, but should he side with Venlin…” She shook her head sadly. “We must hope.”
Jerish nodded. “I trust you to watch our backs. I never thought I would ever say that—not to a Cenzar… not to you.”
“And I entrust you with the future of the empire and ultimately the fate of mankind—I certainly did not expect to be saying that to you.”
Jerish tore off his glove and held out his hand. “Goodbye, Brother.”
She took his hand in hers. This was the last time she would ever shake anyone’s hand.
How do I know that?
“Goodbye, Nary,” she told the boy. At the sound of her voice, Nevrik rushed forward and threw his arms about her. She hugged him back.
“I’m scared,” he said.
“You must be brave. Remember, you are the son of Nareion, the emperor of Apeladorn, the descendant of Novron, the savior of our race. Know that the time will come when the blood descendant of Novron must protect us again—your descendant, Nary. It may take many years for me to defeat the evil that has risen today, so you must not wait. If you find a girl who makes your heart smile, make her your wife. Remember, Persephone was a mere farmer’s daughter and she mothered a line of emperors. You must find a girl like that and have a family. Give your child your necklace and stay safe. Do what Jerish says. After this day, there will be no warrior greater than he. I will see to that as well.” She noticed a dark look come over Jerish. “It is necessary,” she told him, surprised at the ice in her own voice.
Jerish nodded miserably.
“What exactly do you intend to do?”
“Just make certain you are not in the city when I do it.”
Tink! Tink! Tink!
Arista woke up cold and confused. The sense of urgency, the fear and concern, lingered. Her back hurt. The hard, damp stone tortured her strained muscles, leaving her feeling crippled. She rolled to her side with a miserable groan.
Tink! Tink! Tink! The sound of stone striking stone echoed.
She looked up but saw nothing. It was all black now. The worms were gone or no longer giving off light.
Tink!
There was a spark of white light and in that brief flash she spotted Magnus, hunched over a pile of rocks, only a few feet from her.
Tink!
“Ba, durim hiben!” he growled. She heard him shift position.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.
“Six hours,” the dwarf replied.
Tink! Another flash, another incomprehensible grumble.
“What is it you are doing?”
“Frustrating and embarrassing myself.”
“What?”
“It’s just been so long, although that’s really no excuse. I can hardly call myself a Brundenlin if—”
Tink! Another flash—this time it did not go out. The spark appeared to linger, amazingly bright. Instantly Magnus bent down and she could hear him blowing. The spark grew brighter with each puff. Soon she could clearly see the face of the dwarf—the ridges of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the beard trimmed short, all highlighted by the flickering glow. His dark eyes glistened, eagerly watching the flame he breathed life into.
“We have no wood,” she said, puzzled, as she sat up.