"I can't believe it," Nella murmured to the scholars at her side. "This can't be the same place."
The small party of riders had stopped on a ridge to view the plains below. And though it had only been a short time since the Gate was opened, the Peninsula -- ancestral home to the Pembina family -- was a wasteland. Grasses that had once been green and lush were brown and dead. A sickly mist covered the flat landscape, broken only by the occasional blackened branches of a stark, leafless tree.
And in the distance, next to the high spires of the Pembina castle, crows circled overhead, their raucous calls loud enough to be heard from the distance.
"We should go back, my lady. You shouldn't expose yourself--"
But Nella had already spurred her horse forward at the first sound of an objection. Pulling her silk scarf around her face to block out the mist, she plunged forward, down the slope.
Back home, her mother was at the seeing stone, looking for any sign of the three ghostly forms that had emerged from the Gate.
"They will have gone back to the places they know," said the uncle seated across from her. "The Pembina lands will bear the worst of this corruption."
As they should, he thought,
A just punishment for the harm they've caused."We will all be punished," Lady Ybeline replied quietly, without looking up from her work. "It will come to us all if we cannot close the Gate. And you must remember, Edran, that no one bears the blame for this but our enemies."
He looked up and across the stone at her, startled by the reply.
"It doesn't take a stone to read your thoughts," Ybeline chastised him. "The Pembina were just pawns in this game."
"Still," Edran objected, "they let themselves be used. You know what's in the readings -- the Forces don't create evil, they only use the evil already within us. If Lord Radal's and Lord Stellan's minds weren't already full of--"
"Of what?" Ybeline asked, lifting her eyes from the stone. "Unkind thoughts? Ill-wishes for others?" She raised one eyebrow at him, and he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Perhaps we should look into our own hearts, and see what we find. I'll wager there are few people in this world with the nobility of spirit to withstand such scrutiny, or the purity of thought to ward off manipulation by the forces beyond the Gate."
In the once-grand courtyard of the Pembina, as Nella threaded her way through abandoned carts and crates, her horse's hoofbeats echoed against the cold stone walls, the sound occasionally offset by a feeble cough from one of the men and women slouching on the benches or against the fence. Wind whistled through the towers overhead, and the sound of the crows was louder here. But Nella and the other riders were silent as they surveyed the grim scene.
The eerie calm was broken by the creak and groan of the huge wooden doors as Torin stepped out to the top of the stairs. "You came," he said with relief and without preamble. "I was beginning to think you'd leave us to our fate."
"Don't think I didn't consider it," Nella replied with a sharp tone, lifting her gaze away from a small child struggling up the steps. "But I was sent here for the greater good. My mother is of the opinion that we need to help you in order to help ourselves and the rest of the island. So here we are."
Torin accepted the harsh reply as if he'd been expecting it. "We're grateful. I'm grateful. Please -- you must be hungry. I can't offer you much, but there's bread and dried fruit, and I think some wine. There was someone for the horses..." He rubbed at his forehead with a bleak look around the dismal courtyard.
Nella frowned at the graciousness, irrationally irritated by the hospitality, partly because of its incongruity in the surrounding misery and partly because Torin was not the surly, bad-mannered bully she'd been expecting. She shook her head, sliding out of the saddle. "We're not here for dinner," she said briskly, pulling her satchel down to sling it over her shoulder. "And we'll see to our own horses. It's clear you need our assistance more than we need yours."
"We do," Torin replied, reaching out to take one of the saddlebags. "Desperately."
Inside the castle, it was clear he wasn't exaggerating. Beds filled every room with a fireplace and even lined the wide hallways. Men, women and children of every age were huddled under blankets, some shivering and coughing, others lying still as death. Nella blinked in the dim light, taking a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and for her mind to adjust to the magnitude of the plague.
"How many?"
Torin shook his head at the question. "I've lost count," he said apologetically. "Hundreds. We've got two hundred or so beds, and they're all full, but --" He held his hands out in a hopeless shrug. "There are more in the great hall, in blankets on the floor. And some in the workshops. I've heard there are more at the tavern. More that have stayed in their cottages. And of course..."
Nella turned back to him as he stopped, tilting her head and waiting. "Of course...?" she prompted.
"Of course there are the ones who've died," he said, his voice shaking. "Not many, yet. But you see why I wrote you. We need help. My father wouldn't ask -- he thinks you've caused this. He thinks you've poisoned us, and poisoned my mother and Stellan. But it's that thing, isn't it? The tree your brother found in the ruins. That thing has poisoned my father's mind, and now it's poisoning the whole Peninsula."
"The whole island," Nella corrected him. "And it's not the root that's doing it. Not now anyway. It's the forces your family let out of the Gate."
"What?"
Nella eyed him skeptically. "You must have known? Your brother and mother brought a portal cube into the palace. It was on the collar of Savna's cat. I don't know where they got it, but they broke open the Gate with it. This isn't some den'Rhelys plot against your family, it's your own family's doing. And the whole of Ajri is suffering for it."
"No, it can't be," Torin said in disbelief. "It can't. My mother would never--"
"She did. And now Savna's dead, and my brother--"
"Savna?" Torin's eyes went wide in an instant.
Nella stopped, instantly regretting her tone. "You didn't know?"
Torin shook his head, blinking back tears. "I don't know anything, apparently. If you wrote to tell us, it went to my father, and he didn't think it worth telling me." He rubbed again at his forehead, his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of the news. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "Whatever my mother and brother did, I can only apologize. But no one here," he gestured down the hallway, "had anything to do with it. My responsibility is to them now, not my father. Please. I don't know how to help them. They're good people. They had no part in--"
Nella put a hand on his arm to stop him. "I know," she said kindly. "I know." It was increasingly obvious that Torin had survived his family's ordeals with his sense of duty and compassion intact, he had exhausted himself trying to care for his people with no help from his father, and he deserved far better than the sharp side of her tongue. Whatever the rest of the Pembinas had done, he'd clearly played no role in it any more than the people he was pleading for. "You've done the right thing," she reassured him. "You asked us to come."
In her small study, Ybeline sighed as she let the seeing stone glide back down to its resting place, and stretched her stiff shoulders. There had been ample evidence of the effects of the Forces around Ajri, but no sign of their specific location.
"A needle in a haystack," she lamented.
"True," Edran replied as he stood up. "But we'll need to know where they are if Jaffaran makes it back, and--"
"
When Jaffaran makes it back," Ybeline said sternly.
Edran hesitated as if considering a reply, but thought better of it, pressed his lips together and simply nodded. "When."
"If you have something to say, Uncle..."
"You can't know he'll be back," Edran said flatly. "I'm glad you believe it, but you can't know it. You don't even know if he's made it to the other world."
Ybeline pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a long deep breath. "No," she admitted. "I don't. But we still have time. If it comes to it, I can still send Meri or Nella to try again. But--" She stopped suddenly, squinting at the stone in the center of the table.
"What is it? Did you see them?" Edran crowded closer, but she held up a hand to quiet him, and kept peering into the crystal.
After a moment, she shook her head and looked away. "Nothing. I was sure I saw a movement, or a light, but..." She sighed. "My mind is playing tricks. I need a cup of tea."
"You need a full meal," said Edran, escorting her out of the room. "And then a long rest..."