He explained all this now as he walked them through the remains of Arbrox from end to end, pointing out this and that space where a memory recalled itself, offering brief stories of those dead and gone, relating bits and pieces of the life he had enjoyed during the time he had lived here. The pain he felt in doing so was immense, but it was cleansing, as well. By telling of what hurt, he found fresh fuel for his determination to see it avenged.
“Do you not see the injustice of it?” he asked the boy as they walked on across the darkening landscape, glimpses of moon and stars now providing light for them to find their way forward. “A handful of these people broke the laws of a powerful government, but all who lived here were made to suffer for their violation. There was no effort to determine the guilty. The soldiers of the Red Slash were told that everyone was to be killed. The attack—which I witnessed—was meant to eradicate an entire people. It was an abomination against humanity.”
“But why do you still consider this your home?” the boy pressed him. “It isn’t really your home anymore.”
“Come,” Arcannen ordered, turning away.
He took them a short distance to an open doorway and then inside rooms where the ceiling was collapsed and the floor strewn with rubble. Without pausing, he continued on to an opening in the cliff wall behind and through to a darkened hallway. With a snap of his fingers, he produced a flame that danced on his fingertips. In the glow of its light, they made their way back into the darkness until he reached a shuttered door, heavy and metal-bound, the lock that secured it new.
Digging into his black robes with his free hand, Arcannen produced an iron key that released the lock. Without a word, he opened the door and stepped inside. The boy and the girl followed. Reaching out with the flame he had conjured, he lit a series of torches fixed in wall brackets until the room in which they stood was flooded with light.
“As you can see,” he said, indicating what lay within with a sweeping gesture of his hand, “it is indeed still my home.”
The room was furnished sumptuously and decorated with ornate wall tapestries and silks, colorfully woven rugs and bright paintings. Fixtures of gold and silver glittered in the torchlight, and colorful glass bowls shone from where they sat on tables and pedestals. Through other doorways and openings, the faint outlines of furnishings revealed bedrooms and a kitchen, and all the way in a long hallway that tunneled back into a deeper darkness.
“I returned when it was safe to do so and found these rooms empty and untouched. I brought in the things I required to make it comfortable, and I resolved that Arbrox would rise from the ashes. I could not save her people, my friends and protectors, but I could save their home. I could make it mine again, and l could live here as once I had intended I might. No one would come to bother me here—not in this dead and ruined place—so I did not need to worry about discovery. In its destruction, it came to serve me as the perfect hiding place while I considered what I would do to the Red Slash in retaliation for their acts against these people.”
“You are all alone here?” Lariana asked him, her face solemn.
“Until now. I am not the sort of man who requires a great deal of company. I can manage on my own, even though I would have preferred things to remain as they were before the attack.”
“But you intend to avenge what happened here?” Reyn hesitated. “How will you do that?”
“First things first,” the sorcerer declared, squaring up before the boy. “Gaining revenge on the Red Slash on behalf of the dead of Arbrox is the prior obligation I mentioned. I seek your help in completing it. Will you consider doing so? Will you provide me with the assistance I need?”
The boy looked uncertain. “Wait. Are you asking me to use the wishsong to kill these soldiers you blame for what happened here? These men and women of the Red Slash?”
Lariana stepped close to him and took hold of his arm. “I don’t think so, Reyn. I think he has something else in mind.”
She said it in a way that warned the sorcerer he would be making a serious mistake in giving Reyn any other answer. He smiled inwardly at her perceptive recognition of what would amount to crossing a forbidden line and was reassured anew that she had been the right choice for aiding him in his efforts to win over the boy.
“No, Reyn,” he said. “I am not asking you to use your wishsong to kill anyone. I would never ask that of you. I know how you feel. Killing others is exactly what you are seeking to avoid! You have asked me to help bring your magic under control, and I will do so. What I need to know is whether you are willing to help me in another way. Exacting revenge is my business, but you could help me with the details. Please consider doing so. You can see what has happened here. Do you not think, as I do, that it was an injustice and a travesty?”
The boy nodded slowly. “I do.” But the uncertainty had not left his eyes.
Arcannen seated himself, fixing his face with a troubled look. “We are both victims of a world in which magic is mistrusted and disdained. Here, in the Southland, under the auspices of the Federation government, it is even outlawed. Druids hunt down those who possess it in order to take it away. A movement is afoot to stamp it out completely where it is not under the control of those who judge that they, and they alone, should make use of it. Look what happened to you in Portlow. There was no effort to talk to you; you were attacked. Your magic is considered dangerous, just as mine is. We are outlaws and exiles by the very nature of who we are what we are capable of doing. No thought is given to intent or character. We are hunted and in most cases we are exterminated. Surely, you cannot believe this is right?”
The boy shook his head slowly. “I don’t. But if I can bring my magic under control …”
“No!” Arcannen slammed his hand down on the tabletop next to him with such force that both the boy and the girl jumped. “You miss the point. We have to look beyond specific instances. We have to consider the larger picture. Bodies of men and women as powerful and ruthless as the Federation government or the Druid Order will not be deterred until they are confronted and forced to stand aside. An example must be made that will convince them it is better if they do, that any other choice will be more costly and damaging than what they are prepared to accept. So it is here. If I can show that they are helpless in the face of the magic I possess, I can demonstrate why leaving people like you and me alone is their best option.”
He paused. “Yes, I intend to avenge my friends who died at Arbrox. But by doing so, I also intend to provide the Federation with an example of what will happen if they continue to pursue magic users like ourselves. I will give them a reason to think twice before they do so again. How they treated Arbrox is just another indication of how the powerful treat the powerless; it is a clear indication of their arrogance and disregard for others. Such behavior must be punished, Reyn. Such atrocities must be brought to an end!”
His voice had risen steadily as he talked, and by now he was practically shouting. But the boy was still listening and did not seem appalled. If anything, he looked to be deep in thought, caught up in what the sorcerer was saying, weighing his words, considering his advice.
Arcannen leaned back in his chair and smiled disarmingly. “I apologize. I was carried away with my passion for my beliefs. But at least I have voiced them so that you can consider.”
He rose. “Enough for today. It is late. We will sleep here tonight. Take that time to think about what I have said. We will talk about in the morning. Sleep where you like. Choose a room and a bed that suits you. Whatever is mine is also yours.”