Vantra wafted to the Little Duckie, exhaustion tickling her essence. Kenosera and Yut-ta sat on a bench, speaking in quiet tones, as Lorgan and Kjaelle watched the Light-blessed and the pirates on shore prepare to invade. She sank next to the nomad, who grinned and patted her back.
“Are you OK?”
She nodded, not sure how else to reply.
“That was a brilliant combination of spells!” Lorgan said.
Was it? She only recalled using a Sun shield and Retravigance. Maybe he mistook what the glyphs and the shard did for her magic.
Kjaelle smiled. “Thinking on your feet is necessary to successfully finish a Redemption.”
She did not want to admit how much the approval meant. After Jare’s words, she felt she had screwed up, ignoring their original targets and their important information to follow the lattice.
“Really, for a successful finish of anything in the Evenacht.” Dough set his elbow on the top of the windshield and made a face. “I can’t believe I lost the draw,” he grumbled.
Kjaelle laughed. “Well, it’s a good bet some dignitary will attempt to escape, and the rest of us will have plenty of bad guys to fight.”
He grinned. “I suppose.” He jerked his chin at the ghosts on shore, who faded into Ether form and whisked up the paved, bush-lined incline to the portcullis. Magic brightened the interior before heavy steel clanged against stone, and the remnants of the grate bounced into the defenders.
“Where are we?” Vantra asked, her eyes shifting to the town. The Light-blessed had not said, though she had the impression they knew where the lattice had dumped them.
“Court-lee Grace, the discerning noble’s home away from home,” Kjaelle told her. “Well, the noble estate side of it, at least. It’s a day-and-a-half from Selaserat by foot, under one by boat, a few moments by lattice ziptrail. It’s far enough away from the port, I’m shocked someone extended a spell that far. The strain would discorporate typical ghosts.”
So the spirit who created it was powerful, and likely old enough, the faint knowledge she gleaned from Nolaris would not help them. Relieved that Lorgan accompanied them, she looked at the scholar, whose focused on her glyph-covered hand. Unease filtered through her. Was something wrong?
“Whoa-hoooo,” Dough said with longing as Light flared and the left-hand tower collapsed, crushing bushes and sending a shower of stone into the water.
“Are we sure we’re at the right place?” Vantra twisted her hands together. How horrible, if they attacked an innocent person’s home!
“The lattice is anchored to the clouds above the turret,” Kjaelle said. “Someone associated with Hrivasine and Anmidorakj is using this place as a base for their distance spells.”
“I didn’t notice the lattice until you snagged it,” Lorgan admitted. “I knew something triggered the columns, but not what. And Kjaelle says you saw glyphs inside Daunifen?”
She nodded and held up her hand. “There were symbols on the ankis and in the clouds, too.”
“Interesting.” He gently took her appendage and smoothed the lines. “Grendorian, as you said, Kjaelle. These particular ones, though, are predecessors to the common symbol casting set. We’re dealing with either a ghost over twenty thousand who used them while alive, or a very educated one.”
“So, Kjiven?” Kjaelle asked as the deep evening lit with a glow from the keep that slowly faded. Her sarcasm did not faze the scholar.
“Perhaps, though I’d find it odd, that he would use spells from an elfin culture not associated with the Kanderites.”
“Hethetor elfines used them, even though they saw Grendor as a disgrace for losing to the Visland sprites. I’m sure Kjiven would feel the same.”
“Hethetor kept themselves separate from the treaty lands as well, and eventually faced a similar fate.”
“Yeralis is Hethetor from a distinguished family, and he brings up his association with Hrivasine every chance he gets. I don’t think it bothers either side too much.”
“Distinguished Hethetor family is synonymous with ruthless, something Kanderites appreciate. However did you marry him? You don’t seem the ‘politics at all costs’ type.”
Her strained, anger-tinged laugh made Vantra wish he had not mentioned it. “My father was. And, well, I was pretty.”
“You weren’t lined up, were you?”
“No, but Yeralis did think I was the most beautiful of my siblings.”
“Lined up?” Kenosera asked, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.
“It was a Hethetor tradition,” Kjaelle said. Was Vantra the only one who noticed how tense she was? “The richer family would choose a member of the poorer for marriage, after the parents signed a pact to bind the families. The pact was the most important thing, with the newlyweds and any resulting children a distant second. Hethetor society, as most elfin ones of the period, cared about political family strength more than anything else.”
“That’s odd.”
Vantra hated the confused note in Lorgan’s tone and looked down at her hand; the glyphs glowed a subtle green.
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t panic,” he said, smoothing her essence. “I think someone just activated every glyph in the vicinity.”
“They’re appearing in the water, too,” Dough said. Lorgan went to look as Vantra cradled her hand. Had she unwittingly provided the enemy a way to harm her?
Yut-ta, who had sat with his hands dangling between his legs, perked up, wings fluttering. “Do you hear that?”
They quieted and listened. Vantra heard the insects, the frogs, the birds, the gentle wind, and concentrated harder. As the other noises faded, she recognized a distant, steady whir.
“That sounds like a spintop,” she whispered. As with most Talin technology, districts and regions throughout the Evenacht banned them, but the wealthy and influential still used them, paying fines rather than foregoing a luxury. She could see Hrivasine and Anmidorakj using them for transportation, flaunting their positions and lack of accountability.
“Spintop?” Kenosera asked.
“It’s a flying craft that has blades on top that spin and lift the body up,” Kjaelle said, searching the sky. “The rich love to use them for excursions.”
“So the enemy comes.” He withdrew his dagger from the sheath at his waist.
A bell, crisp, louder than the ambient noise, rang with ceaseless abandon. Vantra looked at the shore; the infiltrators were gone, leaving fire in their wake. It would be up to their small group to confront the new arrivals.
