The Catalyst

Chapter 41

Kitera reined in at the peak of a hill and gazed down at the sprawling town of Quickrivers. Farming lands had progressively given way to houses organized around streets that led to the town center, with its market squares, shops, and the white temple in front of which people were gathered after the morning service.

Beyond the town center, the main street spanned towards a wooden bridge that arched over the river. Then more dwellings, and finally the woods where the street turned to a trampled path winding through the trees, from which you could glimpse Mikael T'Sherazee's house if you knew where to look.

Lightly pressing her heel into her tall grey's flank, she led him at a gallop down the soft slope. No snow carpeted the ground here, the air wasn't as cold as in Veicira, the wind not as biting. Though Kitera was still grateful for her woolen cloak. Unease built up in her chest as she reached the main street. She did her best not to show it as she shared smiles and greetings with acquaintances. Behind her smile hid the question that had been plaguing her thoughts during the trip. What will I find here?

She'd made good time, riding day and night, guided by a bright moon that was only two days past full, with scarce breaks mostly for Bolt's sake. Her stallion was tiring and was most likely starting to hate her. He turned his head at her now as they passed the stables that flanked the Quickrivers Inn. But she kept at a fast walk, Noah's note playing across her mind. You were right. You have to get to Quickrivers as fast as you can.

Further along the street, she found the old blacksmith outside his shop for a break, a hat secured on his head to protect his ears from the cold.

"Kitera! Long time no see. Your father didn't mention you'd be back."

She barely slowed down, but she spared him a smile. "It's a surprise."

"Well," he called, "if you see that boyfriend of yours, tell him he'll be out of a job if he doesn't haul his arse back to work!"

"I'll be sure to pass it along."

One of the last buildings before the bridge was Mikael's school, a modest two-story structure with whitewashed walls and a fenced yard where kids could play. Most wealthy people still sent their children to the temple's school to be educated by the priest and his followers, who recited from the Book of the Gods for days on end.

Her father offered an alternative. Here, on top of learning to read, write and count, students were presented with unbiased historical and religious facts, expanding their knowledge of the world and allowing them to make their own choices. In spite of their differences, Kitera had always admired her father for doing this. But today she felt only apprehension as she approached the school. You were right . . . Right about what? Her father going too far with her little sisters? What did that mean, exactly? She wished Noah hadn't been so bloody cryptic.

Kitera jumped from the saddle and tied Bolt's reins to the fence before making for the door. It creaked obnoxiously as she pushed it open, and again as it closed behind her. She went up the corridor, guided by a familiar feminine voice that drifted from the classroom. The hammering of her heart calmed somewhat. Her father wasn't here.

Poking her head in, she saw about twenty kids, their ages between seven and fourteen. Some of them recognized her and called her name, making their teacher turn away from the map on the wall. The same old map her father had used when teaching her and Bryani, all creased up and worn with use, and in dire need of being updated; Fellera's southern neighbors were no longer free realms, they'd been conquered by the Azurians.

Kitera smiled and waved at the kids, then went to greet their teacher. Vivien had been with the cult for many years. A war widow with a young son, she hated the crown and had found solace in her study of dark magic. Seeking like-minded individuals had brought her to Kitera's parents. Now some grey strands streaked her bright red hair, and her son Kyle was almost Kitera's age.