The magistrate of Soros—formally known as a Mazaar on the Isle of Var Nordos—received Therelin and Kren in her upstairs office at the Gallendris Estate on Coin Hill. Jannia Gallendris was a stern woman fresh into her middle years. She had sharply-cut, dark hair, matching the stately style of her rich red blouse and subtle, yet distinguished, jewelry. She looked up from her paperwork when the two magicians were shown in, finished making one mark, and then pushed the document away from her to give them her full attention.
“Welcome to my estate,” Jannia said, her voice crisp and authoritative. “It is Therelin and Kren, correct? You have news of my brother?”
Therelin was still flustered by the thorough searches to which they had been subjected—understandable as they were in light of the attacks here and abroad. He stammered, then took a deep breath and began again: “Unfortunately, it is not exactly news…but we did discover something about Lord Gallendris that has us worried for him. We were hoping that you might complete the picture, so we can aid his efforts however we can.”
“Ah, I see. I was caught off guard when they told me you had worries for him.”
Therelin bowed his head politely. It had been a necessary half-truth, to get them this audience. He hung his head in the silence, praying she did not excuse them without another word.
Jannia relaxed her pursed lips and gave them a wave. “What have you learned, then?”
Kren gave him a nod, so Therelin tentatively began his story. “Over the past few months, Kren and I have been researching Tarro—the man behind the bandit scourge—and we recently learned that your brother learned something about Tarro a few years past. We think that his own investigations into this may have made him a target for Tarro.”
They could, of course, only name Tarro because they had found his name in Dakhu’s Archives—elsewise their only source of that information would have been firmly behind the Tether, for they had first learned it on the Isle of Dusk.
“He never told me about anyone named Tarro or anything similar,” Jannia assured them, with a shrug. “Do you have anything that is more specific in nature?”
Therelin nodded deeply. “We recently heard that he took a trip shortly before learning this information—within the last two years.”
At this, Jannia paused. Then she rose to her feet, and paced toward a window past her desk. Her reverie only lasted a moment. She turned back to Therelin with narrowed eyes. “Secrets have power, especially in Soros. If I trust you with this, you must trust me with what you know as well. Your words have had little substance so far—I must be sure this is not a scheme to simply get the secrets out of me.”
Her words—though reasonable—caused a greater tension to rise in Therelin’s neck. The logic she presented was sound, but she could be playing the very game she explained.
A small smile touched her lips and she added, “I think we can agree this dilemma runs both ways.”
“No, you’re right,” Therelin said. “We came to you—we must build the bridge.”
Jannia’s smile widened and she stepped back to the edge of her large mahogany desk.
Therelin rubbed his hands together, feeling the familiar tug of his rings. The guards had held his staff—after assuring him they would return it. He implored the Tether to allow him to speak enough of it, so he chose his words carefully: “A while back, Kren and I had an encounter with a portion of the bandit army, including this leader, Tarro. We were able to get to safety using our gifts. As a result, we have spent quite some time investigating Tarro in order to provide a shred of knowledge to empower those who stand against him.”
“Seems there are only shreds to be learned of this bastard…” Kren muttered. “Pardon, milady.”
Jannia gave him a nod, but looked keenly back to Therelin.
The latter magician smiled and continued. “During this investigation, we’ve discovered some references of him from…long ago. We also learned that Tarro had a connection with a school of sorts, the House of Kiaraka. When Erril—the spymaster in Noress—heard about the House, he revealed to us that your brother obtained similar knowledge from him, just before the trip he took a couple of years ago.”
Jannia’s eyes widened. “Tarro was at the House of Kiaraka…?” she murmured. “Well, I can confirm for you that Farek did travel to the House of Kiaraka, but I’m afraid I know little of what transpired there. He was investigating an assassin that was apprehended here, in Soros, before that. He told me only that the matter of the assassin was resolved. Do you think he crossed paths with this Tarro?”
“That’s most definitely what we suspect and is why we believe that their paths have become so entwined in the time since then,” Therelin explained. He could not think of anything further to add, but longed to know more. Could she tell him?
“What do you mean, entwined?” Jannia asked, raising one eyebrow toward her dark, contoured bangs. “Has he had more encounters with Tarro?”
“Well…” Therelin rolled his head on his shoulders. “We are speculating a little, but from our perspective it seems likely that the explosion on your estate was carried out by Tarro’s men. We suspect it is part of the reason that Lord Farek has become so involved in the warfront.”
Jannia frowned. “No, no, the attack on the estate was not connected to Tarro. Farek tracked the culprit to the Raderan mainland and brought him back to Noress-That-Was to be hung,” the Mazaar explained. “He’s helping on the warfront because it’s the right thing to do—because Var Nordos may well be the next target of the pirate fleets, now that Starath has fallen. Not to mention, the assassination of Matriarch Haladia.”
“It’s good to know the truth behind that, but I am still concerned about Lord Gallendris. I feel there is more to be done in aiding him against Tarro,” Therelin said, pointedly. He could return to his research, but he longed to be given a clear direction.
“If only Devender was still around,” Jannia muttered. Seeing Therelin’s curiosity, she explained, “He was a travelling magician and became close friends with Farek. If he was still at Farek’s side, we might have a better idea of my brother dearest’s current whereabouts.”
Therelin nodded. “Who might know how to get into contact with your brother?” It had become clear that further answers might only be gained from the source.
“Unfortunately, you might be better connected in that regard,” Jannia said with a shrug. “He was on a mission for Matriarch Valakono’s inner circle. Last we heard, he had passed through High Raena and was heading deeper into Radregar, but that was months ago.”
Therelin looked at Kren, letting the faintest hint of his frustration slip into his expression. He felt he was going in circles now. Likely, the only person who knew enough to help was the Matriarch herself—as she alone might know Lord Gallendris’ plans. Reluctantly, he turned back to the Mazaar. “Yes, I believe that is what I must do. Is there anything that I can provide you? I can send back news, as I learn it.”
“Please do. Anything you learn of my brother would be appreciated,” Jannia offered. She reached into her desk and then set down a plump coin purse on the desk.
Therelin blinked. He had not expected that—it looked similar to the coin purse he had filled, piece-by-piece, across many hours of foraging herbs and vending to local alchemists. “Thank you,” he said, earnestly. “I will keep you as informed as I can.”
The guards returned their possessions as they left the estate grounds. Though Jannia had confirmed many of their suspicions and had set right their errors, Therelin was left lacking. He had sought answers with meaning: what had transpired at the House of Kiaraka? What exactly was the relationship between Lord Gallendris and Tarro? And what was Farek doing about it, now?
Kren, meanwhile, grabbed Therelin’s forearm to stop him. His furrowed eyebrows revealed some inner tension or doubt. “This is not good—not good at all,” he told Therelin. “Devender is a Conclave mage.”
The finally-settled puzzle in Therelin’s mind was torn apart, like Kren’s words were the crashing tide. His first thought: was Farek in league with the Conclave? Therelin had first learned of the zealous schemers on the Isle of Dusk—their scattered web of influence seemed always present in the machinations of cities and states beyond the Isle. But Therelin had felt a shared trust with Jannia earlier, and he trusted his gut.
Besides, she had noted that Devender and Lord Gallendris had parted ways. Perhaps their parting was due to Devender’s dangerous allegiance.
Therelin asked Kren more about Devender during their walk back to the Silver Bell Tower, though Kren knew little more about the Conclave operative. They could only surmise what motives Devender possessed for ingratiating himself here, in Soros. Perhaps he only sought to learn the very things that Therelin and Kren now sought?
After that, Therelin spent much of the evening dwelling on a long-past conversation. Before he had even learned of the Isle of Dusk, he had overheard Master Nolicrin of Saanazar speak with a Grey Brethren priest. Their conversation had covered the renegade and the Conclave—whom Therelin now believed to be Tarro. Therelin now wondered if Tarro had been in league with the Conclave before the onset of the war. Now he found himself wondering which side of the war the Conclave had even chosen!
Around dinnertime, Therelin began to consider a return to Saanazar. The only other course he could see was to ask Matriarch Valakono for answers—but Therelin had little reason to trust her. She had supported their research in Dakhu’s Archives, but had also confided in Erril, and Erril had not confided in Therelin or Kren. Nolicrin was known for his ‘neutrality’, Therelin remembered.
Now that Therelin understood the sides—the Conclave, the schemers and spymasters, the warlord across the sea—he aspired to neutrality.
Therelin brought it up when Kren and he retired to their shared, double-cot inn-room. “There are too many unknowns. It feels like everyone has an angle on Lord Gallendris, and I don’t know what to do without playing into their plans. I think it’s time to speak with Nolicrin again.”
“Better than stumbling into the midst of a Conclave plan,” Kren agreed. “That’s as dangerous as crossing Tarro.” Then he doused the light, leaving Therelin to his troubled thoughts.
Devender, a Conclave mage… Therelin thought. It seemed that whenever he discovered a thread of progress in this war, it was stained with dark, dark omens. It took hours for the tapestry of dreams to blind him.