Martin bolted upright in his bed. If demons gathered here in the city, what about the outlying villages? Without quite knowing his destination, he ran out the door in search of… anyone.
Gaveth approached from the common training area. “Stop! What’s wrong?” Was that concern on his face? Martin hadn’t been around the unmasked priest long enough to work out facial expressions but understood Gaveth to be young by Dmitri’s standards.
“Where is Father Dmitri?”
“He’s out. What’s wrong? Tell me.” No mistaking the sincerity in Gaveth’s eyes this time.
“The village where I grew up. What happened to it?” To the children he’d spared when their parents betrayed him.
Gaveth let out a harsh breath. “I am to instruct you on the ways of the past. Tonight, you’re tired, but this much we can do if you let me help you.”
“Please.” Anything to ease his mind.
“Come with me.” Gaveth extended his hand. Martin hesitated too long, staring at the abnormally long fingers with short pointed nails. Gaveth dropped his arm back to his side. “Come.” He led the way down a dark corridor, murmuring soft syllables under his breath. A faint glow came from the walls. “With our night vision, we don’t need much light, but Dmitri reminded us of your requirements. For now.”
For now?
The corridor opened onto a cavern. The dim light shimmered on a rippling surface. A fountain? A fountain without running water, so now a pool. “We’re under the city, aren’t we?”
Gaveth nodded. “Yes. The oldest known people of your world lived here in these caverns. So close to the source of magic, mages were born. It’s no accident that both the Father’s and the Lady’s temples are here.”
He shuffled over to the pool, gesturing for Martin. “It will take you a while to master this skill, but working together we should be able to at least give you a glimpse of what you seek.”
The water rippled, something unseen swirling beneath the surface. Martin shuddered, recalling the creatures in the lake near his home known to grasp a leg and pull a fisher out of a boat—or so legend said.
“Focus,” Gaveth said, stepping closer, though not close enough to cause alarm. Would Martin ever get used to his new teachers’ appearance? “First, I’ll show you the past as I’ve seen it. It will take time, but gradually you’ll be the focus.
“Now, clear your mind, and stare into the water. Deeper, deeper, seek out the bottom.”
Wait! Was there something on the bottom? An image? Martin stared until his eyes watered. Nothing.
“You’re trying too hard. Open your mind. Let the vision come to you.”
Time and again, Martin tried. Nothing. “It’s of no use…” At the moment he gave up, images came.
That made him wish he’d never asked.
The sun rose and set forty-seven times before Martin left the sanctuary. He knew the others hunted, for they returned shaking their heads and murmuring in hushed tones, cleaning ichor off their clothing.
Tonight, they’d finally deemed him ready to return to the streets, capable of hiding himself from view of the demons and the creature under the temple. The stronger he grew, the greater the threat.
But he must protect Peter.
And defeat his foe before it overtook Cere as an oracle.
The night appeared different to Martin’s enhanced vision, crisper, sharper, the ocean scent stronger in his nose. Here and there, glowing runes marked the way, like road signs only the guardians could see.
Autumn had given way to winter during his confinement. The snow would be deep back in the mountains. He no longer worried about the remaining villagers surviving the cold.
Demons laid waste to his village. Looking for him. He couldn’t afford any more guilt, unable to change the past. All he could do was move forward, do the best he could with his newfound knowledge.
Tonight, he’d draw new runes that some of his comrades couldn’t, not being from two realms. Be they guardian or demon, no eyes would see the spell he cast, but any with harmful intent would find themselves repelled from the site. Whoever had cast the current runes had been adequate, but the demons grew stronger. Sooner or later, the existing barriers would crumble.
He might not be able to see Peter again, hold him, but he could protect him. Keeping to the shadows, Martin rebuilt faded runes in the air at one rear corner of the tavern. The scent of corrupt magic hung on the breeze. Demon. The night they’d gone after Peter?
The knowledge sped Martin’s footsteps to the next corner.
He’d completed the final front corner when he glanced up and met dark eyes through the window. Peter paused midmotion of wiping down the bar. One moment turned to two, two to three.
