Annon nodded and gazed into the fire in the ring of stones. He stared at the variety of colors, at the whip-like tongues of flame leaping out from the brush they had gathered to feed it. “What of you, Khiara. What is your assessment?”
She shrugged, saying nothing.
“Please, Khiara. I would hear you as well.”
“It is difficult to understand his motives in helping us,” she replied softly, looking down at her lap. “I have spent time studying the ways of the Rikes of Seithrall. The prince and I—” She fell suddenly silent, not speaking for a moment. “There are many troubling aspects to their religion. They are skilled in argument and logic. They are students of the mind. The man we have been walking with has tried too hard to calm our concerns about him. That troubles me. He does not act like a man disillusioned by his training.”
Annon sighed, concurring with both of their observations. “How long will he…live?” Annon asked her, glancing at her face. “How much time was he given when he was revived?”
She did not look up. “A fortnight. His heart will stop again before that time is through.”
Erasmus shivered. “Reminds me of a Romani proverb. It’s bad manners to talk about ropes in the house of a man whose father was hanged. You are sure he will die? He seems hale.”
Khiara nodded. “His borrowed time came at a cost.”
Shifting to get more comfortable, Annon glanced over at Nizeera. What are your thoughts? He asked her.
She snagged a thread of flesh in her teeth and yanked hard. I wondered when you would ask me.
I value your instincts. What do you say?
She ignored him for several moments, digging into the flesh while holding it still with her claws. Why else did you wish to bring him?
You know that already. To understand the thinking of my enemy.
Her head came up, her luminous eyes fixing his. Blood dribbled from her chin. And what have you learned about your enemy so far?
Annon thought the words that summoned fire and then began bathing his hands over the flames in the fire ring. Erasmus and Khiara watched him, transfixed.
“Nizeera asks what I’ve learned about the enemy so far. I want to make sure you understand my thinking as well. To see if I have any holes in my logic.” He scooped up a thread of flame, using his mind to twist it into a sphere, which floated above his hand like a bubble. “The Arch-Rike is a tyrant, but a clever one. If he enslaved the people with the threat of bonds or prison, they would revolt against him. If he taxed them excessively, they would scorn him and rebel. He enslaves the kingdoms through ideas. People will always serve a cause higher than themselves.” He chuckled softly. “It is the same principle Tyrus uses. We seek to end the Plague. The Arch-Rike seeks to preserve knowledge. Both are noble causes. Both are ideals. If the Plague ends, then there will be nothing to rally the minds of the people. The Arch-Rike would lose his power.”
Annon swallowed, staring at the swirling flames. “The Arch-Rike has taken up an ideal set hundreds of years ago and has made it his own. He is a cunning man. He is wise. But just as a bubble can be pricked by a touch, so can an idea be punctured and vanish.” He let the bubble of fire unravel and disappear. “I have the feeling that the dangers we face ahead will challenge our minds more than anything else.” He fixed Erasmus with his gaze and then Khiara. “What we learn there may challenge our beliefs or assumptions. What we face there may make us doubt ourselves and our cause. This may prove as difficult a challenge mentally as facing the Scourgelands will test us physically. We are entering the lair of a man who has most of the known world under his thrall. To be honest, I’m terrified.”
Annon removed his hands from the fire and brushed them together. The flames were as warm as bathwater. “I rely on you all to help me see through the illusions the Arch-Rike may use to protect his secrets. We must rely on each other. We will probably need to move quickly and think quickly. There is a reason Tyrus chose us to face Basilides. I feel lucky to have you all with me.”
He looked over at Nizeera, who continued to stare at him. Well said, Druidecht. You are truly our leader.
“Having been a student of history for most of my life, I will venture a prediction. At some future period, not very distant as measured by centuries, the civilized races will almost certainly replace the savage races throughout the world.”
—Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
The day remained overcast, the gray of the sky blending in with the crushed rock filling the mountains. By midday, Annon and the others reached a river spilling from the mountains and flowing south to join the lake waters of Kenatos. The river was full of boulders and churning foam, making passage by boat impossible as well as reckless. The river was wide and full of flat rocks, worn smooth by the constant rush of water. Crossing it would be treacherous.
She shrugged, saying nothing.
“Please, Khiara. I would hear you as well.”
“It is difficult to understand his motives in helping us,” she replied softly, looking down at her lap. “I have spent time studying the ways of the Rikes of Seithrall. The prince and I—” She fell suddenly silent, not speaking for a moment. “There are many troubling aspects to their religion. They are skilled in argument and logic. They are students of the mind. The man we have been walking with has tried too hard to calm our concerns about him. That troubles me. He does not act like a man disillusioned by his training.”
Annon sighed, concurring with both of their observations. “How long will he…live?” Annon asked her, glancing at her face. “How much time was he given when he was revived?”
She did not look up. “A fortnight. His heart will stop again before that time is through.”
Erasmus shivered. “Reminds me of a Romani proverb. It’s bad manners to talk about ropes in the house of a man whose father was hanged. You are sure he will die? He seems hale.”
Khiara nodded. “His borrowed time came at a cost.”
Shifting to get more comfortable, Annon glanced over at Nizeera. What are your thoughts? He asked her.
She snagged a thread of flesh in her teeth and yanked hard. I wondered when you would ask me.
I value your instincts. What do you say?
She ignored him for several moments, digging into the flesh while holding it still with her claws. Why else did you wish to bring him?
You know that already. To understand the thinking of my enemy.
Her head came up, her luminous eyes fixing his. Blood dribbled from her chin. And what have you learned about your enemy so far?
Annon thought the words that summoned fire and then began bathing his hands over the flames in the fire ring. Erasmus and Khiara watched him, transfixed.
“Nizeera asks what I’ve learned about the enemy so far. I want to make sure you understand my thinking as well. To see if I have any holes in my logic.” He scooped up a thread of flame, using his mind to twist it into a sphere, which floated above his hand like a bubble. “The Arch-Rike is a tyrant, but a clever one. If he enslaved the people with the threat of bonds or prison, they would revolt against him. If he taxed them excessively, they would scorn him and rebel. He enslaves the kingdoms through ideas. People will always serve a cause higher than themselves.” He chuckled softly. “It is the same principle Tyrus uses. We seek to end the Plague. The Arch-Rike seeks to preserve knowledge. Both are noble causes. Both are ideals. If the Plague ends, then there will be nothing to rally the minds of the people. The Arch-Rike would lose his power.”
Annon swallowed, staring at the swirling flames. “The Arch-Rike has taken up an ideal set hundreds of years ago and has made it his own. He is a cunning man. He is wise. But just as a bubble can be pricked by a touch, so can an idea be punctured and vanish.” He let the bubble of fire unravel and disappear. “I have the feeling that the dangers we face ahead will challenge our minds more than anything else.” He fixed Erasmus with his gaze and then Khiara. “What we learn there may challenge our beliefs or assumptions. What we face there may make us doubt ourselves and our cause. This may prove as difficult a challenge mentally as facing the Scourgelands will test us physically. We are entering the lair of a man who has most of the known world under his thrall. To be honest, I’m terrified.”
Annon removed his hands from the fire and brushed them together. The flames were as warm as bathwater. “I rely on you all to help me see through the illusions the Arch-Rike may use to protect his secrets. We must rely on each other. We will probably need to move quickly and think quickly. There is a reason Tyrus chose us to face Basilides. I feel lucky to have you all with me.”
He looked over at Nizeera, who continued to stare at him. Well said, Druidecht. You are truly our leader.
“Having been a student of history for most of my life, I will venture a prediction. At some future period, not very distant as measured by centuries, the civilized races will almost certainly replace the savage races throughout the world.”
—Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos
The day remained overcast, the gray of the sky blending in with the crushed rock filling the mountains. By midday, Annon and the others reached a river spilling from the mountains and flowing south to join the lake waters of Kenatos. The river was full of boulders and churning foam, making passage by boat impossible as well as reckless. The river was wide and full of flat rocks, worn smooth by the constant rush of water. Crossing it would be treacherous.
