Janir sat by the fire Karile had made. Even an Enchanter of the First Degree could start a fire and for that Janir was thankful. Through some stroke of luck, she’d caught a rabbit with a snare like the ones Armandius had taught her to make. While she still had qualms about killing things, she found using snares mostly bearable.
Of course she had to clean the rabbit. Karile claimed a terror of blood.
He whined the entire time she was skinning and cooking the rabbit, then ate more than his share, but pity kept her from abandoning him. He was alone out here with nothing but his robe and would probably starve if she were to leave him. All the same, she was fast learning that it was possible to pity someone while wanting to slap him at the same time.
He didn’t seem to care she was a girl or that any decent boy would have offered to do the work for her. The imp was probably too selfish to lift a finger for anyone. Her pity faltered just a little.
Janir stared in disbelief as the skinny boy consumed more than two thirds of her catch. He would have eaten the whole thing, bones, hair, and all, had she not stood her ground.
“I caught it. I cleaned it. I cooked it. I eat it!” she shouted angrily, tearing off a back leg.
“No need to be selfish,” protested Karile.
Janir was beginning to loathe this annoying little troublemaker. She suddenly understood why someone would leave him hanging from his robe. Perhaps she should have asked more questions, but she was not used to meeting many strangers, much less sizing them up.
“Who put you up in the tree, Karile?”
“A very unpleasant fellow,” the enchanter mumbled through a mouthful of rabbit.
“I’m not so sure.”
“I was out here riding when I met this man on a horse. Well, we start chatting and he can’t give me a good excuse for why he’s out here and he won’t answer any of my questions.”
Karile had not, Janir noted, demanded an explanation for her presence.
“Then, next thing you know, the atrocious little goblin has strung me up on the tree.” Karile jammed a piece of rabbit in his mouth. “My pony’s probably halfway home by now, little traitor.”
“Is that the whole of it?”
“Well, yes! Do you call me a liar?” Karile righteously exclaimed through a mouthful of rabbit’s flesh.
“I think you have more of an explanation there,” Janir countered.
“Well, I don’t, and it’s too bad for you!”
Janir rolled her eyes. If nothing else, being annoyed with him was a good distraction to her current predicament.
“You know,” Karile remarked between mouthfuls of Janir’s rabbit, “you should take me seriously. I was on very important business.”
“Of course you were.”
Karile didn’t seem to hear her. “I was going to find the Key of Amatahns.”
Janir had heard of Amatahns, just as any respectable child who attended temple. The enchanter who had saved all the lands from a horde of scaled monsters—mazag—was often a central statue in religious sites and a character in epics and ballads. But she had stopped taking Karile seriously several hours ago and didn’t give it much thought.
Janir leaned against the trunk of a tree. Little sleep these past days had taken their toll and she was exhausted.
She could only hope that she wouldn’t dream of Ronan’s corpse or the feel of his spine snapping in her hands. A shudder shivered down her back, but Karile seemed not to notice. Janir tried to push the memory as far from her mind as possible, letting sleep catch up with her.
As she was drifting off, she heard “…infinite power to the one who holds it…” If there was one person in creation who shouldn’t have infinite power, it just might be Karile.
“What gives infinite power?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Karile demanded.
“No, I haven’t.” Janir found the small measure of concern was fast slipping away. She didn’t think she cared anymore and just wanted to sleep.
“Why are you so irritable?” Karile complained.
“I’ll tell you why I am so irritable you little thistle thorn,” she whispered in a dangerously quiet voice. Annoyance and weariness made her temper short. “I am alone in this wretched wasteland with an Enchanter of the First Degree who…” Karile swam out of focus. Janir whipped a hand to her face to wipe away the tears before he could see. The other things that were wrong, she couldn’t tell him.
“Well, if that’s all, why are you complaining like a child?”
Janir hissed wordlessly and leaned against the tree again. He hadn’t even asked why she was out here. He must not care.
“Do you have any idea what the Key is?”
“No.” She wanted to sink into the dream world where anything was possible and she might escape the nightmare her life had become, even if only for a few hours. But with his selfishness, Karile was forcing her to keep a grip on reality.
“We’ve got to get that Key before they do,” Karile resolutely announced. “Look, I’ve been finding out things. Putting pieces together.” His voice dropped to a whisper.
Janir might have been interested if he had explained what exactly this “Key” was. But he had, she reminded herself, and she didn’t care.
He kept talking, but she still didn’t care. Every so often she would catch snatches of words whether she liked it or not.
“…and my father told me to stop looking for clues, that I was babbling nonsense and should pay more attention to swordplay. But, of course, I wouldn’t listen.”
Janir huffed and rolled over, but caught his last few words.
“…it is so powerful, it can control entire races. Can you imagine?”