Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3) Read online

  Alitta shivered. She stood up and approached Kevessa’s chair. Kevessa rose to meet her. “I’m not asking you to make any decisions tonight. Just think about what I’ve said. Consider whether it’s possible that the things you’ve seen have been illusions designed to trick you.” She took a deep breath. “That when the creature ‘pretended’ to reveal its real nature, you were seeing the truth for the first time.”

  It was all Kevessa could do not to roll her eyes. But a lifetime of respect allowed her to bow her head meekly. “I will, Mama. I’ll think about it.”

  Alitta embraced her. In Kevessa’s ear, she murmured, “I know you think I’m wrong and want me to be quiet and leave you alone. But I can’t, because I love you. I’ll fight the Lord of Demons himself to save you. Even if you end up hating me for it.” With a quick squeeze she released Kevessa and swept from the room.

  Kevessa stared after her. After a long moment she shook her head and sank back into her chair. “Why is it so hard for everyone to believe the familiars are sent by the Mother?” She turned imploring eyes to Vigorre and Nirel. “I really have thought about it. I know what I saw could have been a trick. I mean, she looked just like I’ve always pictured the Mother, and what she said sounded like what I would expect the Mother to say, but if there really is a Lord of Demons I suppose he could fake all that. But why should I believe it was false, when it’s so much simpler and more obvious to accept that it was real? It’s not as if there’s any evidence to support the Purifier’s side.”

  Vigorre looked at Nirel, frowning. Nirel scowled and gave a quick shake of her head. Vigorre turned back to Kevessa, but there was something tense in his expression. “It always seemed wrong to me that the Mother would give her power to some of her children, but not all.”

  She felt thrown off balance, as if the ground had crumbled under her foot when she’d expected firm support. “You know why. Master Elkan explained it. When the Mother touches the world to create a familiar it disrupts things, causes disasters to happen. She couldn’t make enough for everyone.”

  Vigorre turned away, raising a shoulder and dropping it. “It’s a convenient excuse.”

  She stared at him, shocked by what she was hearing. Her voice rose. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe the Purifiers’ lies. You were the first person in Ramunna to join us. Master Elkan thinks the Mother sent Tharanirre for you. You’ve worked almost as hard as we have this week. If you lose faith in us…” She shook her head. “Nirel, tell him. You grew up with the wizards. You know they’re telling the truth.”

  Nirel’s voice was gentle, but her words felt flat and empty to Kevessa. “Of course they are. Vigorre knows it. Don’t you?” She gave him a pointed look.

  He met her gaze. “I think we should tell her.”

  Kevessa’s breath caught. “Tell me what?”

  Nirel’s eyes widened in alarm. “Vigorre, no. You know I can’t—”

  “Tell me what?” Kevessa cried. She jumped to her feet and glared at Nirel. “What do the two of you know that you’re not saying?”

  Nirel rose and took Kevessa’s hands. “Nothing, I promise. Vigorre’s just upset because his father joined forces with the Purifiers. It’s hard for him to go against his father, so he’s questioning everything. He doesn’t really believe the wizards have been lying to us or that Nina’s tricked you.” Her gaze slid past Kevessa and turned into a glare.

  Kevessa whirled to see Vigorre frowning at Nirel. “Is that right?” Kevessa demanded. She grasped at the hope, even though her gut was screaming that there was more to it. “It’s hard to have your family against you, I know—”

  He hesitated, looking back and forth from her to Nirel. Kevessa stared at him, willing him to tell her the truth. From the corner of her eye she could see Nirel gazing at him with equal intensity.

  Finally he turned away from both of them and stared into the fire. “I’m sorry, Nirel. I know you’d rather keep it a secret, but Kevessa deserves to know. This is probably the only chance we have to tell her without Nina hearing.”

  Kevessa felt as if her stomach had fallen into her shoes. Nirel let out an angry breath. “You haven’t left me much choice, have you?”

  “We can trust Kevessa.” He turned to her. “You said there’s no evidence that what the Purifiers claim is true. But Nirel and I both know there is.”

  Cold flooded Kevessa’s heart. “What?” She sank back into her chair. “Did your father tell you something? Show you something?” Her hand automatically rose toward her shoulder, seeking the comfort of Nina’s soft fur and the wash of her familiar’s warm affection in her mind. She arrested the motion in midair, her hand clenching into a fist and falling into her lap.

  He came to kneel before her, taking her hands in his, warming them between palms that felt hot in contrast to the iciness of her fingers. “No. I’m sorry, but I’ve known about it for a long time. Since before you came back from Tevenar.”

  She blinked, trying to comprehend the magnitude of his betrayal. “So you never—you’ve been lying to us all along, since you first—”

  He didn’t flinch. “Yes. Again, I’m sorry. But when you’ve heard everything, you’ll understand why.”

  She yanked her hands away. “Understand?” She looked around wildly. “What am I supposed to understand? That you secretly believe Nina and the others are demons?” She struggled to rise, but he grabbed her shoulders, pinning her in the chair. “Let go of me! I have to tell Master Elkan!”

  Nirel grabbed her arm. “You have to hear us out.” She clung despite Kevessa’s struggles.

  Vigorre, too, refused to release her. “I swear, once you hear what Nirel saw, you’ll be as convinced as I am.”

  Kevessa quit fighting. “Nirel? You saw something? What? When?”

  Nirel eyed her warily, then let go of her and stepped back, wrapping her arms around her body. “Before I came to Ramunna. When the wizards arrested Ozor and the rest of us.”

  The whole world had reshaped itself around Kevessa, and she struggled to get her bearings in the new landscape. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Ozor made me swear not to. I never thought you’d be in danger from the demons. Then when you came back from Tevenar bonded to one of them, I didn’t have a chance. Until now.” Nirel swallowed. “I thought it was too late, that you were lost to them. Actually, I still think so.” She gave Vigorre a dark look. “I would have stayed quiet so you couldn’t tell the other wizards. But I guess Vigorre thinks there’s still hope that if you hear the truth you’ll believe it, and find a way to win your freedom.”

  Vigorre gave her shoulders a squeeze and released them. “I care about you, Kevessa. I couldn’t let you stay trapped in their lies when there’s a chance you can get free.”

  Kevessa took a deep breath and squashed down all the emotions clamoring in her mind and heart. She scowled at both of them. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. I can’t promise I’ll believe you, but I’ll listen. Then I’ll decide what I’m going to do.”

  Nirel and Vigorre exchanged glances. Nirel sighed, dragged her chair close, and plopped into it. “You remember what I told you about Ozor leading us over the mountains out of Tevenar, and how the wizards followed and captured us?”

  “Yes.”

  Nirel swallowed. “I left out part of what happened. Vigorre’s the only one I’ve ever told about it, until now. But he told his father. That’s why Keeper Emirre sided with the Purifiers.”

  “All right.” Frustration with Nirel’s stalling was making Kevessa crazy. “What happened?”

  Nirel shifted her gaze, staring into space as if she were watching the events she described. “It was late one night; I was asleep. We’d been walking for days, and were nearly to the mountain pass. Suddenly I woke up, but I couldn’t move. There was bright golden light all around me.”

  Kevessa twisted her hands. “Don’t the wizards believe Ozor murdered people? I know being captured like that can’t have been fun, but if they were enfo
rcing the law—”

  Nirel gestured impatiently. “Of course. That’s not the point. Anyway, they dragged us into a group, but they wouldn’t let us talk. I looked around and realized that one member of the band, Malon, was missing. He must have been off at the latrine when they surrounded us.”

  That didn’t make sense. “Why didn’t they use a window to find him? If they were tracking you, they must have known how many of you there were.”

  Nirel rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me what they were thinking.” Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe they set the whole thing up.”

  Kevessa swallowed, her throat dry. “Set what up?”

  Vigorre came to stand next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kevessa. You’re not going to like this. But you have to listen.”

  Nirel stared down at her clasped hands. “The wizards marched us all back toward Tevenar. That night, after they made camp, they tied us up and went off to where we couldn’t see or hear them. Malon snuck in and cut our bonds. He’d been following us all day. Most of us wanted to run, but Ozor insisted they’d just track us with windows and capture us again. He said if we could catch them by surprise and keep them separated from their familiars, we could overpower them.”

  Vigorre’s arm tightened around Kevessa’s shoulder. Kevessa didn’t want to keep listening, but at the same time horrified fascination made her hang on Nirel’s every word.

  “He led us to where the wizards were gathered in a circle around a fire. They were kneeling, not moving at all. Each one had their familiar in front of them, staring at them.” Nirel swallowed hard and lifted her head to meet Kevessa’s eyes defiantly. “Their eyes were glowing red.”

  Kevessa jerked back, but Vigorre’s arm held her in place. “That’s ridiculous. What have the Purifiers threatened you with, to make you lie for them?”

  Nirel refused to look away. “I’m only telling you what I saw. This was long before I’d ever heard of the Purifiers, or knew anything about what their secret writings said.” She took a deep breath. “Ozor gave us the signal to attack. But a big hound dog threw up his head and started barking. Before we could stop them the wizards grabbed their familiars and froze us again. They used windows to see how Malon had freed us. It made them furious. They dragged him in front of us and started beating him with sticks.”

  Anger surged in Kevessa’s belly, and she struggled against Vigorre’s grip. “Let me go. I won’t listen to this. No wizard would ever—”

  He shook her. “It’s the truth, whether you listen or not. Nirel told me they held her eyes open so she had to watch.”

  Nirel gulped and nodded. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They started circling Malon. The wizards were chanting, something about justice and sacrifice. The familiars crowded around Malon. One bit him, then another, then they all were. There was blood everywhere, they were covered with it.”

  Kevessa felt as if she were floating, caught in some nightmare she couldn’t wake from. She wanted to laugh at the preposterous story, but Nirel was so earnest, her eyes haunted with the memory of what she’d seen, her hands trembling, her voice rough but certain. “They ate him, Kevessa. They tore him limb from limb and devoured every piece.” She clenched her fists. “That’s what the familiars are. That’s what they do. Tobi, and Sar, and Nina, too. I never forget it for a second.”

  She jumped to her feet and started pacing. “You know what? The next morning the wizards were happy and relaxed, petting their familiars, taking care of them, talking to them as if nothing had happened. It was like they didn’t even remember what they’d done. Couldn’t the ancient wizards erase people’s memories? Maybe that’s what the demons did. Maybe the wizards really didn’t remember.” She stopped and regarded Kevessa with round, worried eyes. “Maybe you’ve seen things, too, but Nina made you forget.”

  Kevessa fought to breathe. She couldn’t possibly believe a word of Nirel’s story, but the horror of the scene she’d described was so vivid, the pain in Nirel’s voice so real, that it was hard to dismiss it with the contempt it surely deserved. “I have not. You’re crazy.”

  “How can you know? You wouldn’t, if your memory’s been tampered with.”

  Kevessa was about to deny it again when she spotted the flaw in Nirel’s logic. “Why didn’t they erase your memories, then?”

  “I don’t know!” Nirel glared at her. “Maybe they thought it didn’t matter. They planned to execute us. They would have, if we hadn’t managed to escape.”

  Kevessa jumped on that. “But Josiah helped you escape. You told me. He took his hand off Sar so he wouldn’t—” She broke off, a horrible sick feeling twisting her stomach.

  “So he wouldn’t sink our ship and kill us all.” Nirel sank back into the chair facing Kevessa, rubbing her temples. “Sar had just bonded with him. Maybe Josiah wasn’t completely under his control. But that was a long time ago.”

  Vigorre took his restraining arm from around Kevessa’s shoulders and moved to stand beside Nirel, taking her hand. “Nirel told me soon after we met, and I told Father. When the wizards arrived, I decided to watch them and alert Father if they tried anything. That’s why I volunteered to help. Nirel, too.” He squeezed her hand. “I hated deceiving you, but Nina was always with you. I couldn’t let her know we knew the truth.”

  “You’re wrong.” Even as Kevessa made the declaration, doubt wormed in her gut. Everything she knew of the wizards, every minute she’d spent with them, with Nina, working to heal and help in the Mother’s name, told her Nirel’s story couldn’t possibly be true. But what reason could her friends have for lying to her?

  As if she could read Kevessa’s thoughts, Nirel said, “Why would I lie to you, Kevessa? You were my first friend in Tevenar. You welcomed me and accepted me and taught me so much. I know you’ve always dreamed of wielding the Mother’s power. Do you think I’d try to take that away from you if I believed it was real?”

  Vigorre pulled Nirel against him and stroked her hair. “You and I have been friends all our lives, Kevessa. We’re telling you this because we care about you. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

  But she was hurt, stabbed to the heart, torn in half. She couldn’t believe those horrible things about Nina and the other familiars. But she couldn’t believe her friends were deliberately lying to her, either. The deep compassion in Vigorre’s eyes, the way Nirel leaned her forehead on his arm, seeking comfort in his touch—they believed what they were saying.

  Maybe Nirel had seen something innocent and misinterpreted it? Kevessa desperately tried to come up with some scenario that would account for what Nirel had described, but her imagination failed her. Her friend’s descriptions were far too specific and detailed to be the products of dim light and confusion.

  Like a drowning woman, Kevessa grabbed for anything she could. “Why haven’t you told everyone about this? Why didn’t you tell the Matriarch before she sent for the wizards?”

  “I should have.” Nirel rubbed her eyes. “But Ozor made us all swear to keep it a secret. I was afraid of what he’d do to me if he found out I’d told. And the Matriarch wouldn’t have cared; she’s willing to work with demons as long as they give her an heir. Although now she’s pregnant maybe she’ll listen. Once Vigorre’s father and Keeper Yoran are out of the dungeon they can protect me from Ozor.”

  Vigorre drew in his breath. “You can’t go to the Matriarch yet. Not while the demons are still free. It’s them you need protection from.”

  This was all so surreal. “Really? You’re afraid of Tobi and Sar? And Nina?” The image of the sweet-natured squirrel threatening Nirel was so preposterous she had to laugh. “You’ve been working beside them all week. You know they’d never harm anyone.” She laughed again, though it sounded hollow in her ears, and held out her hands to invite them to share the joke.

  Vigorre’s mouth didn’t even twitch. “All I know is that they wield something like the Mother’s power. And it can kill as easily as heal. The ancient reco
rds agree on that.”

  “Not anymore! Animals can’t—” Kevessa broke off. She wasn’t going to convince them by reiterating what they already knew. They’d both read the Law and the first History. They knew everything about the wizards and familiars Kevessa did. Except for the one secret only the Mother could tell, that the familiars themselves, not the wizards, controlled the Mother’s power. And that, she realized with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach, wouldn’t persuade them she wasn’t a demon’s slave. Quite the opposite. They’d say that when she’d chosen to surrender her will, she’d opened herself to the demon’s domination.

  It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. She knew Nina. She’d trust her with her life. It was impossible that Nina had kept such an enormous secret from her.

  Yet she was keeping a secret from Nina right now. Would she confess to Nina what Vigorre and Nirel had told her, once they were reunited? If she did, Nina would expect her to tell Master Elkan. What would he do? He’d be hurt, and furious at them for their deception. At the very least he’d refuse any further help from them. He might even report them to the Matriarch and have her throw them in the dungeon with the others who opposed the wizards. She couldn’t let that happen to her friends, not when they were only trying to protect her.

  And what if they were right? She didn’t want to consider it, but a horrible niggling thread of doubt forced her to. If Nina was a demon, and had been hiding that fact from Kevessa all along, telling the squirrel that Vigorre and Nirel knew the truth would almost certainly prove fatal for them. And maybe for Kevessa, too. A demon would act without qualm to protect itself and its goal.

  She raised her eyes to find Vigorre watching her, quietly letting her work through her thoughts. She snarled, “I should go to Master Elkan right now and tell him everything.”

  “Please don’t.” His voice was soft. “Please think about it. For one more day, that’s all I ask. Consider everything we’ve told you. If Firstday morning you decide you should tell him, we won’t try to stop you.” He inclined his head. Nirel confirmed his words with a nod.