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"You can stay with them. There's no need in both of us losing our home."
He shook his head, face grim. "No, you are my family. If you are no longer welcome, neither am I."
"Konrad has refused to partner with anyone since his wife died," Thordin said. "You might need another sword at your back."
Elaine looked at him, surprised. "You'd come with us?"
He shrugged. "Jonathan's upset now, but if anything happened to the two of you, he'd never forgive himself. I'd never forgive me, either. Better to go along and make sure you two are safe."
Blaine gave him a rough hug. "You old softie, you."
Thordin just gri
"Gersalius, is it all right if Thordin comes, too?" Elaine asked.
"Well, I admit I hadn't pla
Thordin slapped him on the back hard enough to send him staggering. "You're a good man, for a wizard."
Gersalius gave a half-cough. "Well, with such ringing endorsement, we'll be just one happy family."
At that, Elaine's smile faded. They had been a family, but no longer. Why had she forced Jonathan like that? It was unlike her. She shook her head. Was it the magic? Was Jonathan right, and the magic was controlling her? What if Jonathan was right and she was being corrupted? What if she was corrupting everyone around her? She had just succeeded in breaking up one of the most successful cells that the brotherhood had ever had. A house divided upon itself ca
NINETEEN
Twilight lay in thick purple clouds across the sky. The snow that had threatened all day began to drift down in huge, fluffy flakes, like the down of some gigantic goose. The village of Cortton lay in a small valley. Lights glimmered from windows here and there. Chimney smoke rose into the fading light to mingle with the purplish clouds.
Jonathan tried once again to explain to Silvanus and his party what lay ahead of them. The elf was mounted just behind him, sharing his horse. Jonathan turned in the saddle and found the elf's disconcerting eyes inches from his own. "There is a plague in the village below. You might live longer if you went on to the next town. Another day will see you to Tekla."
"If there is a plague, where else should a healer be?" Silvanus said. He made a gesture with his half-grown arm.
"I ca
"I appreciate your concern, Jonathan, but we have faced evil before. We have even faced the walking dead before and lived to tell the tale."
Jonathan stared into that strange face and tried to read the expression. Silvanus seemed so confident. The mage-finder remembered being confident once, secure in his own beliefs, but that was before. He glanced back, eyes searching for Elaine. Her yellow hair glowed in the dying light. She rode behind Elaine, having generously offered her horse to the large, mustached man. Her hair glowed against the white of Blaine's hood, and Elaine seemed to feel his eyes upon her, for she turned to look at him.
Jonathan looked away before their eyes could meet. He didn't want her inside his mind again. The thought made him shudder as if something had slithered over his foot in the dark. She'd had no right to invade him like that. It was evil. Yet, he wanted to mend things between them, but didn't know how.
Short of her magic's disappearing overnight, Jonathan wasn't sure things between them could ever heal. He hadn't anticipated Blaine's taking her side, but should have. He'd been blind not to expect that. But Thordin? That had been a complete surprise. Their cell of the brotherhood had more successes than any other-more monsters slain, evil wizards prosecuted, charlatans unmasked. They were a good team. The fact that Elaine's magic had broken them up was proof enough that her witchcraft was a corrupting influence.
He stared down at the lights. Putting to rest the dead of Cortton would be their last task as a family. He was the head of this family. The leader of all who obeyed the brotherhood in his house. So why could he not find a way out of this moral dilemma? It was like watching a wagon barreling down a narrow path. He knew it was going to go careening off into space to smash to the rocks below, but could not stop it, not by wishing or screaming. It was an accident happening slowly before his eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it.
He could not solve his own problems, but he could help this village. Jonathan would have rather faced a dozen zombies than strife in his own household. Perhaps he might yet defeat both.
"Do you still worry over the girl?" Silvanus asked.
Jonathan wanted to say no, but nodded.
"Averil is often strong willed. We quarrel, but we make up. They never stop being our children, no matter how angry we get."
"This not a fight over an inappropriate suitor," Jonathan said. "She invaded my mind without my permission. She showed that she would abuse her power."
"She is what. . eighteen of your years? She is young. You are the one with the patience and wisdom of years. It is your task to heal this fight, not hers."
"Is that the way you deal with Averil?"
"Yes." That one word sounded tired, as if the good advice was harder to swallow than to dish out.
Jonathan glanced back. Elaine was looking at him. He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. Did her eyes seek him as his did her? Did she long to mend this quarrel? If so, why had she done it? He could have ignored much, but not this outright invasion. She had to know that. It was almost as if she had done it deliberately.
"I ca
"Will not," the elf said.
Jonathan nodded. "Will not." He kicked the horse forward. It began winding down the path.
"Pride is a cold thing, my friend."
"It is not pride."
The elf's voice came close to his ear, like his own conscience. "Then what is it, if not pride?"
It was fear, but Jonathan didn't know how to explain that to the elf. Silvanus's dead wife had been a witch, a human mage. If the elf could love, bed, and father a child with a magic-user, he would not understand Jonathan's fear.
"Please, Jonathan, you have been so kind to us. I will listen with an open mind. You can use my ear to bounce ideas from, until you find a way to approach Elaine."
It sounded so reasonable. Jonathan didn't feel in the least reasonable. How to explain his fear to someone who did not share it in the least?
The sun died in a flash of golden blood in the purple clouds. As they rode down the hillside, the light slipped away from them. Konrad rode ahead, his figure growing dimmer, blending with the coming dark. Konrad was the only one of them who wasn't riding double. He and the paladin. The paladin was simply too large to share. Konrad simply hadn't offered.
"My parents were slain by magic." Jonathan said, at last.
"As was my wife," Silvanus said.
Jonathan shook his head. How to explain? "No, they were not just killed. They were degraded, tormented."
"Tell me, my friend."
But he did not want to. This grief was too intimate. Even after nearly forty years, the wound was still raw. His mother had been a gypsy like Tereza. Perhaps that was why from the first her dark hair and rich voice had captivated him. Do we not all spend our lives trying to get back to happier days? Of course, if that was all Jonathan had wanted, he wouldn't have joined the brotherhood. He wouldn't have become a mage-finder. He would have taken Tereza and found some quiet corner and hidden away. But he hadn't, perhaps because he believed that the evil would find him. Those who did not seek out evil to slay it, would be sought out by evil. Better to face it, hunt it down, than to be caught unawares.