Unbonded (First of the Blade Book 1) Page 2

  She shrugged. “I’m not downplaying it. My people were trained as well as I could make them. And we didn’t lose too many.” She shook her head. “Either way, it’s not as many as what I think Timo lost. And perhaps it’s different. They were not of the homeland.”

  “I would think it would be different because you trained them yourself.”

  Imogen nodded. It was a time of her life that she looked back on with a measure of fondness, but also sadness. “Training them wasn’t part of my bond quest. I was meant to focus only on destroying the hyadan stone,” she said. “Much like I think Timo’s search for sorcery wasn’t part of his full bond quest. He let himself be distracted.”

  “But he’s finished his.”

  “I’m not sure he has,” Imogen said. “And I’m not willing to tell him that, either.”

  “Then he will be leaving Yoran.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “And if he does…”

  She knew where Gaspar was going with this, but she didn’t have an answer. It was something she hadn’t decided yet. She hadn’t truly considered what she was going to do, or what she wanted to do. How could she, when she had no idea what was necessary?

  “Yoran doesn’t have much magic present,” Gaspar said, “but with the enchanters running around still scared about what happened to them years ago, losing themselves to the sorcerers who thought to rule them… They don’t care for someone like Timo threatening them now, even if he isn’t saying anything. It’s the way he looks at them.”

  “Probably similar to how I do,” she said.

  Gaspar scoffed. “Not at all similar. You look at them with concern.”

  She started to smile as he shrugged.

  “You’re a different woman than you were when I first met you,” he said. “I’m a different man. Gods, if we didn’t change, then we would be the same terrible people we were when we were kids.”

  “I’m still a kid compared to you.” She flashed a grin at him.

  Gaspar let out a groan. “Not you too. I’ve had enough of you and the kid taunting me about my age.”

  “Well, you are old enough to be my father.”

  “About that…”

  She gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder, and Gaspar chuckled.

  “Nothing like that,” he said. “I was thinking of something I had been talking about recently. About finding oneself. Realizing it’s not always easy to do, and that sometimes we have to leave what we know in order to find what we are.”

  She looked over to him and started to walk out of the clearing. She tapped on several of the stone enchantments surrounding it, which were shaped like animals: a tiger, a wolf, and a massive dog. They shrank as soon as she touched them, becoming small enough that she could slip the enchantments into her pouch.

  “You sound like my instructors. Or some of them,” she said. “When I first started considering taking a bond quest, I was told that the quest was not required but that it does help the quester understand the sacred power that connects the world.” That was what she’d been told. Typically the Leier took a quest because they’d failed to progress. “At one point, I thought it might help me understand the sacred patterns, but unfortunately that was not the case.”

  “What more do you have to learn?” Gaspar chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve seen you fight, Imogen. I don’t know how much more skilled a person can be.”

  “My people have what we call the traditional patterns,” she said, walking with him until they reached the path leading through the forest. Trees towered over her, almost protectively. “I started learning those traditional patterns when I was young. I was a master before I was barely fifteen.”

  Gaspar grunted. “I’ve always known you were talented, but fifteen?”

  “I was young,” she said with a shrug, “and I thought myself skilled. I quickly learned otherwise.”

  They reached the edge of the forest, and the city of Yoran lay before her. There was a time when she would’ve considered it ugly, but it had become her home. Most of the buildings on the outskirts of the city were made of stone, and the roads leading through it were wide enough to let carts easily navigate the streets. Dozens of people milled about, and even more of them crowded it the farther they went into the city. An occasional bells tree forced the road to veer in a different direction. They were considered unlucky to cut down, though she wondered if that was just because of their sharp needles or if there truly was some superstition about the trees themselves.

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me about it?” Gaspar asked.

  She looked over, frowning. “What?”

  “Gods, Imogen. Sometimes you fall silent at the strangest times.” He let out a small laugh. “You were telling me about your training. In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve rarely talked about that.”

  “I never knew that you wanted me to talk about it,” she said.

  “You’re my friend. I want to know whatever you want to share with me.”

  She shrugged, sweeping her gaze around her. She didn’t look for potential threats the way she once would have, but she still stared, expecting to find something hostile here. Within the city, though, the only unpleasantness that she might come across was the possibility of a powerful enchantment. Even that was less likely these days. The enchanters had used their power around the city to limit the use of magic within Yoran itself, which offered a layer of protection from unwanted magic. This was the kind of place her people would appreciate, were it not for the fact that magic itself was used to deflect magic.

  “I’ve told you I trained when I was young,” she said.

  “You told me that your people learn to fight when they’re young, but how young were you?”

  Imogen smiled to herself. “My father put my first practice staff into my hands when I was three.” She chuckled at the memory. “At that point, it’s mostly learning to swing it with a measure of control so you don’t destroy the house.”

  “Or your father’s legs.”

  She nodded, laughing again. “Or that. I started training in full when I was five. My people believe that we can master some of the basics by the time we are that age, but I had moved beyond the basics at that point. So, when I reached the level of First of the Blade, it wasn’t a surprise to me. Or my village.”

  “But you said you don’t think of yourself as skilled?”

  She waved a hand, and they turned a corner. In the distance, one of the many city markets opened up before them. Carts lined the street, and hawkers shouted to passersby, yelling for people to stop for meat, bread, cheese, and even wine.

  “I reached the level of First of the Blade, which means I’m skilled, but there are many people among the Leier who reach that level. I had always viewed myself as having the potential to do more.” She breathed out slowly. “I tried. But when I failed, that’s when I went on my bond quest.”

  Gaspar eyed her. “There’s a lot in between those statements.”

  “Yes,” Imogen said as they weaved through the square. “Where is Timo, anyway?” She glanced over to Gaspar, who was shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. “You must have known where he was. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come for me.”

  “Outside the city.”

  “Beyond the reach of the protective enchantments, I presume.”

  Gaspar nodded. “From what I understand, there are a few people keeping tabs on him. They don’t know what he’s doing, only that he seems to be watching with a strange intensity that makes them uncomfortable.”

  “Anything the people in the city don’t understand makes them uncomfortable,” she said softly.

  “Maybe, but this isn’t that. The people here actually understand it.” He looked over to her. “Yoran is familiar with those who don’t care for magic.”

  “I would say that most of Yoran still feels the same way.”

  “Most people do, but that’s not the part of the city I’m concerned with.”

  Imogen s
hook her head. “He’s not going to do anything to people you care about.”

  “Maybe not,” Gaspar said, but there was an edge to his words that suggested that he was unconvinced. Worse, she wasn’t exactly sure she could argue against it.

  What did she really know about her brother, anyway?

  There was a time when she would’ve said she knew much about Timo, and that she would have believed she understood him, but that was long ago. She had left, and she no longer knew him the way she once did.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” she said.

  “That might be for the best. If you want, I could go with you.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “It’s not a matter of need.”

  “You need to get out of the city as well?” she asked.

  Gaspar’s brow furrowed. “In the past, I would’ve said no, but…”

  “You can admit that you miss some of the upheaval.”

  He breathed out heavily. “I just have to find myself,” he said with a wink. “Which might be why I’m telling you the same thing. I’m an old man now, as you keep reminding me. And an old man shouldn’t be looking for himself.”

  “I’m sure Desarra could help you find your way.”

  At the mention of his beloved, Gaspar’s eyes took on a distant quality. He rarely spoke of her, though Imogen saw the way he lit up when he looked at Desarra. They had been together long ago, and then something had happened that he didn’t want to talk about, much like Imogen didn’t like to talk about certain things. He and Desarra had grown apart, and time and circumstance had brought them back together, which led to Gaspar spending more and more time away from Imogen.

  “She’s perfectly happy to see the enchanters working with the constables again,” he said. “And to be honest, she’s also perfectly happy to be able to make her enchantments openly again. She can make money at it. Before, it was…”

  “Dangerous,” Imogen said, finishing for him.

  “Forbidden. And when a thing is forbidden, it becomes more dangerous than it needs to be. It means the people involved are more dangerous than they need to be too.”

  They reached the far side of the market, and from there, it was a short walk to the edge of the city. When they stopped on the outskirts, Imogen looked out and to the northeast. That way would eventually lead her back to her homeland. It was a place she had given so little thought to over the last few years, mostly because she had been tied up in her bond quest, knowing that her purpose had not yet been fulfilled.

  Gaspar said nothing as they stood there.

  There was no sign of her brother, though she hadn’t really expected to see Timo.

  “I can wait until he returns,” she said softly. “Then I can talk to him.”

  “I know it’s going to be hard having him leave, but maybe it’s for the best that he does.”

  “It is,” Imogen said, and she took a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Gaspar asked.

  “He’s my brother. I worry about him. And I don’t know what he might do.”

  “Now that he’s unbonded?”

  “We don’t know if he’s truly unbonded. He is disconnected.” She looked over to him. “When I left my homeland, I found something I had not expected to. I might have disconnected from my people, but I also gained something else. Timo has not.”

  “Then his quest hasn’t been completed,” Gaspar said.

  Imogen smiled. “You could have been one of the masters.” When he arched a brow, she laughed. “Well, other than your complete lack of sword skill.”

  “Complete lack?”

  “Near complete?” She shrugged. “I suspect that with the right enchantments, you might be equipped to fight.”

  “I don’t know that I would stand a chance against you, even with the right enchantments.”

  “Probably not,” she said.

  She stared out into the distance a little while longer. In the corner of her eye, a faint cloud of blackened smoke appeared. She frowned, pointing.

  “There’s nothing out there,” Gaspar said. “No villages, at least. And we’re close enough to the city that anyone coming here would just finish the journey.”

  She reached for her pouch, grabbing two of the small stone enchantments and handing one to Gaspar. They strode forward until they passed the ring of the city’s enchantments. A faint tingling sensation worked along her skin when they walked through the separation between the city and beyond, the barrier that prevented magic. She set the enchantment down quickly and tapped on it. The creature elongated into a nearly full-sized wolf. She climbed on top of it and leaned down, patting her hand along its stone back.

  “Can you take me to that?” she whispered to it.

  Gaspar eyed her. “I’ve never understood why you talk to these creatures.”

  “There’s a familiarity to it,” she said.

  They surged forward, and it didn’t take long before they reached the smoke. A series of rocks was scattered over a rolling grassland, but there was no sign of a road or of any inhabitants here. She climbed off the stone wolf, holding her hand on its back. The wolf would know to protect her, as part of the way it was enchanted.

  “Do you see anything?” Gaspar asked, sitting stiff atop his enchantment, jaw clenched as he seemed to struggle to hold on.

  She frowned, shaking her head. Slipping forward and moving carefully, she found the source of the smoke. The ground itself smoldered. Her skin felt like it was stretched tight, the distinct sensation of magic being used near her.

  Imogen unsheathed her blade and turned, preparing for the possibility of an attack, but saw nothing. She walked around a boulder and stopped.

  A body lay on the ground. A figure was crouched next to it, sword in hand.

  Timo barely looked up as Imogen approached. He was slightly taller than her, but they shared the same black hair, the same pale complexion, and the same thin jawline.

  “What did you do?” she asked softly.

  “A sorcerer,” he said. He finally met her gaze, and his black eyes seemed to carry the darkness of shadows around him. “Caught him sniffing around out here.”

  “So you killed him.”

  She didn’t sheathe her sword. She didn’t dare.

  Imogen might not feel the same way Timo did about sorcery, but she recognized the danger in it. If there was a sorcerer here, she wanted to be prepared. She heard Gaspar slink up behind her, and she glanced back. He had a pair of knives in hand, and she suspected he had slipped on several enchantments, though she couldn’t see them. Gaspar was clever enough to know not to reveal them to her brother.

  “Look,” Timo said.

  Imogen approached carefully. The sorcerer was dressed in a traveling cloak, gray jacket, and gray pants, but was mostly unremarkable. There wasn’t anything distinct about him—certainly nothing that signified he was a sorcerer. And nothing that would have drawn Timo’s attention.

  As she looked at the body, she realized something: Timo had cut him down from behind.

  She glanced at her brother. “What did he do to reveal himself to you?”

  “I saw him using power out here.”

  Imogen couldn’t deny that there was sorcery. She had seen it, but could there have been so much that it would have drawn Timo’s attention?

  “If the Society learns—”

  “I don’t care if the Sorcerers’ Society learns about this,” Timo said, his eyes flashing in anger. “I am more than happy to carve through every single one of them if that is what it takes.” He held his hand up, revealing something in his palm: a small, pale gray, circular ring. “Do you see?”

  She frowned. “He was carrying it?”

  “He was. And he had this.” He held up a silver chain with a medallion on it. The symbol was not one she recognized.

  “Am I supposed to know what that is?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “Well?”

  “Dheleus. And now I know how to find him.” Ther
e was a darkness in his eyes that troubled her. “This Toral tried to keep it from me, but I knew how to get information out of him.”

  He got to his feet, kicked the sorcerer, and then marched away, leaving the body. When he was gone, Gaspar looked over to Imogen as she took a long, slow breath.

  “What was that about?” he asked.

  “Timo found something new to chase.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that doesn’t please you?”

  “I saw that look in his eyes. I don’t care for it.”

  “Then go with him,” Gaspar said. When she looked over to him, he shook his head. “We’ve been talking about it anyway. And you need a purpose.” He smiled and added, “Not that I want to get rid of you. Far from it. I haven’t had a friend like you in… well, a long time. But since you finished your quest, you’ve been a little aimless yourself. It would do you well to help your brother.”

  “I’m not so sure that will help him.”

  “Hunting a dangerous sorcerer—”

  “Not a sorcerer. A Sul’toral.”

  She pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it, and showed it to Gaspar. It had been given to her by one of the few sorcerers she had worked with—a Toral, no less. On the paper was a list of names of the known Sul’toral in the land.

  She didn’t need to see it again. She’d stared at the list many times and knew the names. Even if she hadn’t looked at the paper, there were stories from her homeland, tales meant to scare children, that mentioned some of them.

  Dheleus was one.

  “Your brother intends to take on another?” Gaspar looked up. “He knows that he lost everyone who chased the last one with him, and that he nearly died trying to stop the one who came to Yoran.” He glanced behind him at the city. “What is he thinking?”

  Imogen breathed out slowly. “I’m not sure he is.”

  It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but perhaps Gaspar was right. This was her brother, after all.

  She was unbonded, and she could help him. Timo needed someone. She had to do whatever it took to let him find himself again. She wasn’t sure what that was going to entail, but perhaps that would be her new quest.