“Wait for it?” Ember frowned. “Aren’t we hunting it?”
Kael answered her. “They’re called night flyers for a reason. I’d guess Lukasz is hoping we’ll find its roost and catch it sleeping. But considering the number of villages affected, it’s a wide swath of forest we’ll be searching. Odds of finding it before nightfall are against us.”
“We won’t find anything if we dally here,” Barrow said, and took off in the direction of the armory. Kael was soon at his heels, leaving Ember to stand alone with Alistair at the table.
She had started to turn when his voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
Ember’s heart jumped into her throat and she almost ignored him, wanting to run after Barrow and Kael.
“Please, Ember.”
She slowly turned and found Alistair’s eyes on her, large and pleading.
“I’m a fool,” he said.
“You are,” she said, letting her tongue run ahead of her mind.
Alistair blanched but stammered on. “If you choose to hate me . . . if you wish to curse my name, I will not begrudge you the right . . . but I beg for your mercy and your forgiveness.”
Ember held her breath, startled by the sudden change in Alistair. She couldn’t remember a time in their shared childhoods when he’d apologized for anything. He’d often taken a beating from his father rather than admit he’d done wrong.
“Please, Ember.” Alistair’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I would still be your friend.”
Releasing her breath, Ember said, “As would I.”
“Good,” he said with a nod, but he wasn’t looking at her.
Ember followed his gaze and found Barrow waiting at the far side of the hall. He was watching them.
“Come, then,” Alistair said, walking toward Barrow. Ember followed, and when they reached him, Alistair said, “I’m sorry to keep your student from you, Barrow. I simply wanted to wish an old friend luck on her first mission.”
“She needs no luck,” Barrow said.
“Of course.” Alistair brushed past the taller knight into the hallway.
Ember began to follow him, but Barrow caught her elbow.
“Is all well?”
“Yes,” she said truthfully. Alistair’s admission of offense had freed the painful knot tied in her belly for the past day.
Barrow looked into her eyes for a moment, searching for proof that she’d spoken honestly, and then continued into the hall. She walked beside him in silence.
The paddock was located between the practice field and the stables. They came upon Ian and two stable hands holding six restless horses, Caber and Toshach among them.
An older man with a shiny, bald head, who was cloaked in the same dark gray robes worn by Lora, stood alongside the Guard’s commander.
“When you’re ready, Hamish,” Lukasz said.
Hamish bowed. “Commander.”
From within the folds of his robes, Hamish produced two slender metal spikes unlike anything Ember had seen. Stranger yet, the bald man began to stab the air with the spikes. His arms reached high and dipped low.
As he moved, the air began to change. No longer was Hamish striking at the air; instead he was pulling shimmering threads of light through the empty space before him. The spikes moved faster and faster. The bright threads twisted, layering atop one another. The horses began to paw the earth, shying away from the ribbons of light that flowed from Hamish’s spikes. Soon a tall, gleaming rectangle appeared holding an image in its depths more vivid than a tapestry. Within the light-filled shape Ember could see a heavily forested slope.
Hamish spun to a stop. He bent over, panting. Sweat poured over his scalp and down his face.
Ember had taken several steps back.
“What is that?” she whispered more to herself than to anyone else.
But Alistair had made his way to her side. “That is how we can make it to Cornwall and back in a day.”
“But how?” She gazed at the shimmering image, her heart battering her ribs.
“The mysteries of the clerics are many.” Barrow approached her from the other side. She thought she noticed him shoot Alistair a warning glance. “One of the secrets they’ve unlocked is this: a means to open doors to far-off places.”
Ember’s breath was coming fast. Her first encounter with the wonders at work within Conatus had fascinated her, but the reality of their existence was finally settling in her mind. Magic. Conatus wielded powerful magic. Real magic.
The danger of their position made her sway on her feet. Hadn’t Sorcha and Lukasz just spoken of how many innocents were burned for accusations of witchcraft? And there was no innocence to be found here. If others were to learn what went on behind the walls of the keep, surely they would all be tied to stakes and set aflame. It had already happened to the Templars. What was there to stop it from happening again?
Barrow’s hand was on her shoulder. She looked up at him and saw him taking in the fear in her eyes.
“The path is here,” he said quietly. “But you are free to walk it or choose another way.”
As he spoke, Sorcha moved into the light, leading a roan gelding, and was gone. No, not gone . . . but in a different place. Through the wavering gleam of the doorway Ember could see her standing near a tall pine tree. Lukasz and his dapple-gray mare went after her, followed by Kael and Alistair with their mounts.
“What do you choose?” Barrow said, remaining at her side.
Ember ran her fingers over Silence and Sorrow, hanging in their leather sheaths at her sides. She answered him by taking Caber’s reins from Ian and walking into the light.
Her skin prickled as she passed through the door, as if hundreds of butterfly wings brushed against her and then were gone. Caber pranced and snorted as they moved through the light but gave no other signs of distress.
Alistair was waiting for her on the other side of the door. “Incredible, isn’t it?”
They stood in the midst of tall pines, the cover of the trees much denser than that of Glen Shiel. Sunbeams struggled to pierce the cloak of branches.
“Can it be real?” Ember murmured. “Are we truly in the German forest?”
“It’s real.” As Barrow answered, the light-filled door vanished, making her gasp. Toshach swished his tail as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
“Where did it go?”