CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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Alaric

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22nd of Decepter, 935 PC

The ride from Thronerock to Pearl City was short, short enough that Alaric and his team arrived at the undersized thicket south that was their destination well before the sun came up. The pointed spirals and whipping flags of Stonerock Inn could be seen above the tops of the cedar trees that made up the thicket. Manaya led the group down the narrow path that jutted off the Dirt Spine and crossed a wide strip of frost covered grass, leading directly into an opening in the trees. Her infallible eyes scanned every inch of the surrounding environment, yet Alaric still kept his eyes and ears sharp. It would take much more than a set of magical eyes to cure him of his paranoia. Something like Lilly’s intuition, but they had agreed the women would alternate between using their magic to keep the group safe.

The fact that it was the middle of the night and they were approaching the inn with a stealth and caution reserved for those up to no good, made it feel as though they were thieves. He realized that in many ways they were, but not here, not at this extravagant inn. Their thievery would be saved until they arrived in Locke.

A few minutes into their prowl, the light from the inn crawled into the canopy-covered path beneath the trees. Alaric relaxed as much as he could as they laid eyes upon the Stonerock. Three stories tall, the width of several houses sitting side by side. Both ends of the building protruded from the main structure, windows on either end stared across the small courtyard that sat in front of the building. Staircases led up to the rooms on either end and a long, double-deck porch ran across the front of the inn, both levels guarded by a waist-high railing. And as if the owner of the wildly impressive had also made a deal with The Creator, the sky above the inn was full of beautiful shining stars.

“You choose to live in The Black Boar Inn over this place?” Lilly asked.

“I wouldn’t dare bring Garth here and scare these love people,” Alaric said as his horse traipsed past the woman. “Come. The stables are in the back.”

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The stable boy was surprised to see five guests arriving in the middle of the night. But as with all employees at the Stonerock Inn, he treated them with the utmost respect, helping each get their horse into a stall and asking them if they needed help with their bags. As Alaric had instructed beforehand, everyone rejected the offer. No one was to be trusted, not even a young boy with no more than sixteen years to his name.

As they walked across the grass to the back entrance of the inn, Tripelthin placed his hand on Alaric’s arm gently and held him back. He could tell his advisor wanted to talk alone.

“Therrin.” When Therrin looked at him he handed the healer a pouch full of Camila’s counterfeit coins and told him to secure three rooms. Tripelthin refused to sleep in the same room as anyone. Therrin nodded and caught up to the others.

Tripelthin led him deeper in the back lawn of the inn. Past the stables and into a magnificent garden that had clearly been man-made and practically infused into the forest around it. A short, arched bridge climbed up and over a patch of unruly roots that had grown together from two trees. Both men stood at the top of the bridge and looked down at a pond that sat at the bottom of a gradual embankment. Flowers and vines climbed trellises that had been placed between trees and near well-maintained bushes and undergrowth all around the pond. A handful of torches were fixed to trees and wood posts dug into the ground. In the middle of the water was a fountain. Water was pouring from a mother’s cupped hands onto a younger woman’s cupped hands who knelt at her feet. The water disappeared into the smaller statue and filtered back into the pond.

Alaric was just about to comment on the elegance and beauty of the fountain when Tripelthin spoke.

“Have you considered my words? From before.”

He had. Often. He hated to think Tripelthin was right, but the more he thought about it, the more he could not deny Iris would not stop until pure magic was destroyed, Purists eliminated. “I have.”

“And?”

“As awful as it is to admit. You’re right.” He said it confidently so as not to sound childish, but quietly to not let the world hear him.

“I am. And it makes me happy to hear you say that.” Of course it does, you pompous arse.

“Trip.” He wanted to ask the advisor how Iris thought she could stop all pure magic from existing. Surely she understood The Creator would simply put more into the souls she deemed worthy and new Purists would be born. Instead, he found himself staring at the pond as Tripelthin ignored him and pointed at ripples in the water.

“I do enjoy watching ripples along the surface of water. I’ve always thought there was something to be learned from them.” For the first time in several months, Tripelthin’s voice was softer, less arrogant and cutting. No lessons seemed to be jumping out at Alaric though as he watched the ripples dance off toward the edge of the pond.

“Doesn’t seem particularly educational.”

“On the contrary. Tripelthin walked down the slope of the arched bridge and through the wet grass, right to the edge of the water. Alaric followed.

Now that they were closer, he could smell the bacteria seeping from the water. It reminded him of the time he had let eggs rot in his kitchen after Catyria had killed herself and he was too distraught to leave his bed. A horrible, rank smell that had been. It alone was the only thing that eventually got him out of bed and functioning again. He had found it strange to think something so ordinary and unappealing could be what brought him back to reality. Life isn’t written like a story though, is it? Unimpressive things make up a vast majority of your time on this stupid rock.

“Look at them,” Tripelthin said as he stared at the water. One by one the ripples made their way across the surface of the water and disappeared as they reached their end. “They follow one another like perfectly trained soldiers, right to their death. Not a single one would ever change its course until something interfered.”

Alaric could see the truth in that. It didn’t matter to him much, but he agreed. “Aye. Your point?”

“My point is…” he gestured at the water again. The last of the ripples hit the edge and once again, the water was calm and smooth. “Iris’ Lotus are like these ripples. They will follow whoever leads them right to the end of their lives. No questions asked. No diverting or running away. And why?” He turned and looked at Alaric. “Because like these ripples, they were created and kept in line. Controlled and guided. They’re mindless.”

“No truer words have been spoken,” Alaric said.

“But you miss my point.”

“Then don’t speak in riddles.”

Tripelthin laughed. Genuinely. It made Alaric uncomfortable.

“Your soldiers aren’t mindless fools. They think for themselves and speak their minds. When the time comes to do what you need done, will Lilly Pattick obey any order you give her? Will Therrin White?”

“Will Manaya?” Alaric snapped off the question as if he expected to make a good point, but he instantly knew the answer. Manaya will do whatever Trip tells her. No questions asked. And she will undoubtedly get the job done.

“Of course she will,” Tripelthin said.

“Aye. Of course she will.”

“What do you suggest?” Alaric asked.

“I suggest you make a statement. And soon. Lilly would be the one I would put in her place.”

Alaric thought about how upset with him Lilly had seemed during their trek to the inn. She’s only upset with me because I separated her and James. It’s for her best interest. She could do miles better than Jameson Wicket. Besides, the dunce isn’t over Iris anyway. The thought lit a small flame in his chest. His teeth clenched.

“Consider my words, Alaric.” Tripelthin turned on his heel to walk away, stating the horrible smell of the water as his reason.

“Wait,” said Alaric. He dug his hand into his pocket. “I have something for you.” He twiddled with the key Wicket had given him back at The Black Boar Inn. He fought with himself over the decision to give the key to Tripelthin. “Here.” He extended the fat end of the key to the other man, pinching the threaded end between two of his fingers.

“What’s this?” asked Tripelthin.

“It is a key to Iris’ secret laboratory. Wicket told me she didn’t work in the school’s main lab.”

Tripelthin took the key. “Will it still work?”

“I don’t know. But either way you have to get that lab. He claims it is beneath the bottom floor of the university.”

“How do you access it?”

“There’s apparently a long staircase that burrows into the ground beneath the school. It’s near the Hall of Histories. The key will hopefully unlock the door at the bottom.”

“Jameson isn’t as useless as he seems,” said Tripelthin.

“Surprisingly not.”