Page 96 of Keeper of the Word
“Tara is attending to other business,” Kyrie said, giving her attention to the birds in the above canopy. Even with her eyes upward, her feet continued their smooth gait. “And I am here because I am the only one who can do what I am here to do.”
Tolvar was in no mood for more riddles. He thought of Gus and Bernwald riding to Trysinmar. It’d been a quick decision to send them without him. It’d been an even quicker decision to send Bernwald at all. But the sunlight wouldn’t wait. They needed as long as it would give them. At least, he hoped it would give them an advantage.
Tolvar had put to rest the paranoia surrounding Bernwald, almost. He still hadn’t told him of Crevan’s message or that he was the leader they hunted in Trysinmar. A little test of loyalty never injured anyone.
Kyrie halted and pressed her palm to Tolvar’s forehead, its warmth drawing Tolvar back to the matter at hand.
He exhaled.
“There you are,” Kyrie said, removing her hand and clasping it with the other at her waist. “You are positively bone-weary.”
“I am not.”
“You are. And worse, I See your feet splayed across several paths. Stars, ’tis as if your toes curl in all directions so you can scarcely move.”
Tolvar glared behind them at the waiting knights, who’d halted in their tracks. He took Kyrie’s arm and stepped a few paces away. “Listen?—”
“Nay, Sir Tolvar. You listen. I know who Crevan is. You are not to tell me anything I do not already know.”
“Then your suspicion must be as mine. ’Twas probably him who unburied the Curse here. I need to hunt him and stop him.”
“You aresupposedto be in Asalle with Elanna.”
“King Rian?—”
“King Rian has many an earl he could have sent as his errand boy. You chose to come here. The time for Crevan’s retribution shall come. But that should not be your worry at present. Or did you forget everything Elanna told you?” She glanced upward. The birds had ceased singing. “Currently, we have the problem of the traces of the Curse giving this place more fissures than one. Let us worry about one matter at a time.”
When they arrived in the glen, they were met with seven Anscom knights standing in a circle around it.
It had grown larger.
And wider.
And was it possible? Darker.
“Halt!” one said, brandishing a spear before taking steps back, his forehead puckered in surprise as he gawked at Kyrie. “It cannot be…”
“And yet I am here.”
Kyrie removed a pair of gloves from the satchel she carried. With the texture of what seemed like velvet, they were the color of midnight. Kyrie slid them onto her hands and closed her eyes.
“Captain, have your men see if there are new splinters nearby. They will appear akin to that.” She pointed to where the crack was most narrow but kept her eyes closed. “Once we’ve determined whether this is all of it, we may begin.”
Tolvar, along with his men and Anscom’s, stood aside and watched.
Kyrie opened her eyes and took methodical steps around the crack until she stood where ’twas deepest. More than an arm’s length now. She stroked the edges with her gloved hands, occasionally bringing her hand to eye level and rubbing her fingers together.
“This trace is new,” she finally said. “And not the work of a Mortah pick, which I predict is what you hoped I would say.”
“Why do you think that?” Tolvar asked.
“Because it would give clout to your suspicions.” She had notmentioned Crevan with the crowd observing, but Tolvar caught her meaning.
“But.” Kyrie stood. “’Tis worse this way. It means the Curse has been unburied by accident. By greed, hate, or conspiracy.” She studied the direction of the battlefield. “You must tell these men to put away their weapons. They are feeding it with their warfare.”
“Cannot you do that?” Tolvar asked.
“Nay, Sir Tolvar. StarSeers do not act. Interfere.” She stood as if listening for something in the air. “The fortune is never finite, but humankind must always be allowed to make their own choices. Including you.”
