The Necromancer’s Light by Tavia Lark

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Arthur

The scouting party commandeered a local farmer’s barn to hold Ronan. Arthur swings from Duchess’s saddle as soon as they reach it. The ride was quick, but Arthur’s too warm under his tunic. His hand itches for his sword. He leaves it sheathed at his saddle, so he doesn’t do something he’ll regret.

The sun barely crests the treetops, and the early sunbeams break through the branches as if through the windows of the Bright Cathedral. The barn was once painted blue, but now only flecks of color remain against the gray wood. Doors on each side open from stalls into animal pens, with pigs on one side and goats on the other. Behind the barn, the small plot of land is lush green, nearly ready for harvest. There are three horses already tied to the fence, and Karis the squire waits near them. He darts to Captain Tanner as she dismounts.

“Stazie and Harry have him inside.” He adds, as if he’d forgotten, “Sir.”

Arthur expects Tanner to bark at the boy for the disrespect, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Excellent work.” She turns to the rest of them—Arthur, Freya, and Bernard. “You lot stand guard out here. Arthur, I’m sure you have a lot to say to Vizia. I’ll call you in a minute.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and watches her stiff, straight back disappear into the barn. He tethers Duchess with the other horses, checking her tack just to have something to do with his hands.

He doesn’t actually have a lot to say to Ronan Vizia.

He’s so close to finally being able to ask why, but something feels off. Disappointing. Tanner asked him to stay to help catch Ronan, but he hasn’t actually done anything. He was asleep while an eighteen-year-old kid found Ronan overnight. Not exactly the heroic redemption Arthur was offered.

He pats Duchess’s neck and joins Bernard at the treeline.

“Why the long face?” Either Bernard is more perceptive than usual, or Arthur’s mood is just that obvious.

“It just feels a little weird,” Arthur says. “I’ve spent all year running around on my own, wondering what Ronan is doing. And now I’m here with you guys, and Ronan’s been captured, and it’s almost all over.”

Bernard laughs. “How is that weird? I thought you’d be thrilled about all this.”

Arthur rubs his chin and stares out into the brightening forest. He remembers how it felt to wake up alone. “I thought so too,” he says quietly. “I don’t know. Maybe it just feels wrong that I had to break a contract to stay here.”

“A contract?” Bernard laughs again, far too loudly for the serene stillness of the morning. “How bad did that corpse-fucker mess with your head? You don’t need to honor—”

Arthur punches him.

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Bernard is already staggering back, covering his nose.

“Radiance, what the fuck?” Blood trickles past the man’s fingers.

Arthur stares as if seeing Bernard for the first time. He remembers walking into the inn at Lanwatch and seeing Bernard and Shae facing off. He remembers the way Bernard laughed and explained everything away, but Shae never stopped glaring. Of course he didn’t. Shae was in danger, and instead of defending him, Arthur invited the threat to their table.

No wonder Shae left to find a new set of bodyguards. Shae hired Arthur to protect him—worse, Shae trusted him—and Arthur let him down.

“Shae’s a good man,” Arthur says, staring Bernard in the eyes. “A better man than me.”

“Radiance.” Bernard prods his nose and winces. “I won’t tell Tanner about this, because of our abiding friendship, but you need to get your head on straight.”

“Go ahead and tell her,” Arthur says, far more calmly than he feels. “And if I hear another insult about Shae, I’ll punch you again.”

Freya rushes over. “What are you idiots doing?” She pulls Bernard’s hand away from his nose. “Arthur, what’s—”

Arthur ignores them both and stalks towards the barn. Bernard can tell Freya his side of the story. Arthur cares less and less what his friends think of him with every passing second.

The barn door is closed. Karis leans next to it, arms crossed, watching Arthur with interest. “You’re a lot more fun than I expected,” he says when Arthur stops at the door.

Arthur turns towards him. The boy looks so young. Did Arthur look like this when he first joined? Young and excited and eager to learn swords and magic and following orders? He wanted to be a paladin of Vara since he was old enough to ask his father who the people with the sunny coats were. But the sun on his tunic wasn’t the reason he joined. The magic, the uniform, the hierarchy, the law, even the friends, they were all a means to an end.

“Why did you join the order, Karis?” he asks.

“The same as everyone,” Karis says loftily. “To serve the Radiant and defend the helpless.”

“That’s what I wanted too.” Arthur squints up at the rising sun through the trees. “But I can’t do that here.”

After a moment, Karis prompts, “Sir?”

Arthur ignores him too, and pushes the door open.

The barn is brightly lit, with the outer stall doors all open to let the animals outside for the day. The stench is overpowering for the first few breaths, and then everything falls away when he sees Captain Tanner, Stazie, and Harry standing over a bound, kneeling figure.

“Captain,” Arthur says from the open door.

She whips around and frowns. “You can talk to him in a minute. Wait outside.”

Her movement gives Arthur his first clear view of Ronan in nearly a year.

Even bound and kneeling, covered in grime, Ronan is handsome. His bronze skin gleams in the torchlight, and the chains around his arms only emphasize their heft. There’s a streak of blood drying on his high cheekbone. He looks relaxed despite the circumstances. When he sees Arthur, his lip twitches, but he says nothing and quickly returns to his impassive mask. There’s no trace of the smile Arthur fell in love with.

“Hello, Arthur,” Ronan says, coolly.

Arthur realizes he has nothing to say in return.

All this ruminating, all this wondering why, doesn’t matter anymore. No explanation Ronan gives can change what he’s done to Arthur. It won’t make Arthur feel better. It won’t bring the Crown of Vara back. It won’t bring the priest he killed back.

There’s nothing Ronan can say that Arthur wants to stand here and listen to, when he should be fulfilling the truth purpose of his oath. Sharing light. Helping people. His faith is deeper than orders and ranks and politics. Right now, he needs to help a lonely, prickly necromancer. Any of his brothers and sisters can do what’s needed in the order. They can escort Ronan back to the Bright Cathedral and put him to trial without Arthur, easily. But only Arthur can help Shae, because he’s the only one who wants to.

He thinks Vara will understand.

“I’m not here to talk to him, sir,” Arthur says, facing Tanner squarely. “I wanted to tell you I’m leaving. My penance isn’t over, and you don’t need me here. You have him.” He gestures at Ronan.

“Now’s not the time,” she says. “Wait outside, and we’ll talk about this when I’m done in here.”

“No,” Arthur says. He hears a whistle from Stazie, and rustling as the others shift, but keeps his gaze firmly on the captain he’s disobeying for the first time in his life.

Tanner crosses her arms. “Don’t worry about the trial. I’ll find you another task that looks good for it. Unless I change my mind because you’re being insubordinate.”

Before, the stern tone in her voice would have snapped him to attention. Now, he doesn’t care. Redemption isn’t about appearances. “I’m not worried about the trial,” he says. “I have something more important to take care of.”

He turns around. Not all of his long-engrained reflexes are gone yet; he still stops near the door when Tanner barks, “Davorin!”

He looks over his shoulder. “Yes, sir?”

“Are you running off to that necromancer?”

“His name is Shae,” Arthur says. “And yes.”

“I just want you to know, I’ll be honor-bound to testify about this at your trial,” she says. “If you leave for him now, the Archpriest will never let you back in.”

Arthur pulls his pendant from under his shirt. He looks at the golden sun he’s carried for five years. But his purpose is more than a symbol. If he can’t bring Vara’s magic, then so be it. He’ll give Shae his heart and his sword if those are all he has.

He pulls the chain over his head and drops it to the ground. The small noise seems to thunder through the dusty, smelly barn. Arthur’s never seen Captain Tanner surprised before.

“Then I quit,” he says. “Light guide you.”

He walks out before anyone can reply.

Karis is waiting just outside the door, eyes wide. Arthur walks past him, then remembers something and whirls around to grab his shoulder. “Track Shae again,” he says roughly. “Tell me where he is.”

The boy’s jaw drops, then clicks shut. Divine power flickers through him, tingling Arthur’s hand where they touch. Karis’s brow furrows, and then he opens his eyes again. “About seven miles northeast of Lanwatch,” he says. “A ruin in the Lyralan Crater.”

Moments later, Arthur’s up in the saddle, kicking Duchess toward the road. Bernard shouts something after him, but he neither understands nor cares what he’s saying. All he knows is the pounding of galloping hooves, Duchess moving beneath him, the wind whipping past him—and a strange, exhilarating feeling rising within him.

He thinks it’s the adrenaline at first. The shock of turning his back on everything he thought he wanted burning deep in his chest, driving him forward. The sensation surges, cresting into white-hot illumination. Sunlight floods him, and for a moment, everything he sees—road, trees, skyline—is limned in golden light. The brilliance stings his eyes to the edge of tears.

On his next blink, the world returns to normal, and the light settles into his heart, a steady, reassuring power. He thought that throwing away his pendant would break his connection to Vara’s power. Instead, his magic feels stronger than ever before, and he has the guidance he’s prayed for: Vara’s Radiance, spurring him forward.

He’s doing the right thing. He just hopes it’s not too late.