“I’m not finished. Of the four of you, Mertio was the youngest. He was barely into his second year, but he was good with a spear and brave. He reminded you of your younger brother, and you used to look out for him. You ended that day on the Second Wall, and when everyone went down for the night, exhausted and nursing their wounds, you snuck back to the aqueduct to get Mertio’s crest off his body so his family would have something to bury. You tied a rope around an old stone pillar and dropped into that hole without a torch, carrying only your sword. Mertio’s body was gone, so you walked the tunnels in darkness until you found the creature and its siblings eating Mertio’s corpse, and you killed the three of them in a room with a statue of a bronze god with a bloated stomach.”
He stared at me. As far as I knew, he’d never told anyone about that last bit.
“Is it magic?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what is it?”
“One day, if we become friends, I might explain.”
And I had no idea how I would do that.Hi, in my world, you are a character in a bookwouldn’t exactly fly. He would think I was mentally ill.
The intensity in his eyes made his gaze difficult to hold. “Do you know where my son is?”
I frowned. “No. I have a guess.”
“Tell me.” His voice was almost a growl.
“There is a boy in the Knight Order of the Redeemer with the gift of farseeing. He is the right age, and he has blue-black hair like your wife and your light eyes. He was rescued by a group of knights from slave traders in the wilderness. But the boy lost his memory. They call him Syllind, the Redeemer’s chosen. He answers to Lin.”
It was the oldest literary device in existence—surprise amnesia. The books never confirmed Lin’s parentage, but it would have to be a cosmic coincidence for him not to be Reynald’s son. The gift of farseeing was very rare.
I had many favorite characters. Solentine was one, Galiene, Pelegrin . . . But I always felt for Reynald the most. He’d spent his life serving the country. In return, his wife was murdered, and his son was stolen by slavers. Despite all of it, Reynald tried to do the right thing till the very end. He fought with all his strength and skill for it, and no matter how hard it tried, Kair Toren couldn’t crush his will, so it killed him instead. It was a horrible death.
The blademaster stood up and leaned on the stone rail, his palms planted on it, his gaze fixed on the house.
“Redeemer’s chosen,” Reynald said. His voice was suffused with menace. I almost scooted back in my chair.
Rellas had many knightages, groups of knights affiliated for various reasons. If a knightage pledged itself to one of the Aspects and met certain requirements, like number of members and paying all the proper religious dues, it became a knight order.
There were three prominent knight orders in the kingdom. All of them pledged themselves to the Aspect of the Warrior, but in different forms. The Defenders worshiped the protective Warrior, concerned with guarding and securing their domain, while the Conquerors favored a more aggressive approach.
Of the three orders, the Order of the Redeemer was the newest and the smallest. They were big on renouncing your old, wretched existence and seeking redemption through a life of service, specifically martial service. The best comparison would be the Foreign Legion, but wrapped in religion, with a big chip on their shoulder, and actual magic powers.
“Getting into the Redeemer Tower will be very difficult,” I warned. “They guard their squires, especially the ones with magic, with extreme prejudice. It will take someone with a great deal of influence to get you in.”
The Redeemers overreacted to any perceived slight, and trying to take away one of their squires wouldn’t go over well. Even Reynald, with all his skill, would not make it out of the Tower alive.
“As of now, I don’t see any opportunity to reach your son. Instead, I can give you Derog Olgren. I can’t guarantee a reunion, but I can help you with your revenge.”
He turned to me. “What’s your name?”
“Maggie.”
He didn’t look impressed. I felt the need to add something more. The pressure of his stare was overwhelming.
“Maggie what?”
Maggie Haleywould mean nothing to him. Despite everything I had told him, he was ready to get up and leave. I could see it in his eyes. I was about to lose my only chance at keeping myself safe. I had to say something to make him stay. Something, anything . . .
“Maggie the Undying.”
Reynald gave me a look. He was clearly skeptical. “Really now? Undying in what way exactly?”
Showing how desperate I was would only make him leave faster. I shrugged. “Stick with me and you’ll find out.”
“Fine, Maggie the Undying. Get me into that house, and I will protect you.”
