The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  Chapter Twenty-Six

   

  Kastrius clasped his hands in front of his lips as he let out a long, slow breath. Had he been alone inside his tower in Sandratha, he would have screamed. He might have even destroyed something or stormed into the hall and struck one of his guards. But here, hidden away inside Veltar’s little warehouse in Haven, he had no such outlet for his fury.

  So instead he stood there, smoldering in impotent rage, wishing he could choke the old man standing across from him.

  “You did what?”

  “If the two of you would relax and look past your anger for a moment,” Veltar said coolly, “you’d see that what I’ve done is for the greater good.”

  “What you’ve done is waste lives, resources, and time,” Bremen’s image growled from the sending stone. “Not to mention betrayed our pact and spit in the face of Our Lord Abalor.”

  The senator snorted. “Please, general, you’re embarrassing yourself. What I’ve done is win this war for us, but the two of you are so blinded by your own egos that you can’t see it.”

  For a moment, Kastrius considered turning the smug old man into a torch. He would have gladly endured the Flensing if it meant being able to hear Veltar scream. He doubted Bremen would have had a problem with it, either.

  “How long have you been planning this?” the prince asked hoarsely, hands still shaking. “Months? Years?”

  “Long enough,” Veltar said. “But it doesn’t matter—none of this petty bickering matters. With our victory over the Kirshane, we have all we need to oust your mother and take control of the Republic.”

  Bremen’s ghostly face hardened. “If this knowledge was so important, we could have dispatched a force to deal with them months ago.”

  “And if we had known where to look, that’s exactly what I would have done. I have been trying to find them for years, General. This was the only option, and I’m proud to say it worked perfectly.”

  Kastrius finally snapped and slammed his hand into the wall. Splinters jabbed into his skin, but his rage dulled the pain. “If we were in Sandratha, I would have you flayed alive.”

  The senator sighed and dropped calmly into his chair. “I’ll explain it to you again, and perhaps this time it will sink in. We had no way to openly confront your mother before today. I have spent the last several years gathering a force of loyal subjects, but a few hundred soldiers are no match for the Empress’s guard, let alone the Republic army. I have given us the edge we needed.”

  “Ancient spells wielded by the servants of Abalor during the Sundering,” Kastrius said. “Yes, I heard you the first time, and I wasn’t impressed then, either. Magic has come a long way in the last millennium. What could they possibly know that would be worthwhile to us?”

  The senator smiled. “The key to defeating the Flensing.”

  Kastrius snorted. “So you’ve said before.”

  Veltar clasped his hands together. “Tell me, how is it, do you think, that the woman you were chasing managed to destroy the Faceless? How do you think she mustered the power to defeat so many of your soldiers during the attack on Jehalai?”

  The smile faded from the prince’s lips. Days ago, when Bremen’s unit had first been defeated, he’d assumed they had been overpowered by a Messiah. But since she was just a normal woman, a Balorite disciple at that, then instead it meant…

  “You taught her this magic already?” he asked.

  “Some measure of it,” the senator said. “I learned the most basic techniques when I served among the Kirshane—in secret, of course—but I never had the opportunity to access all of the ancient scrolls and their accumulated knowledge.”

  “So you’re telling me that right now you can weave without facing the Flensing?”

  The old man’s eyes flicked between Kastriu and Bremen. “Yes.”

  The prince pulled his hand off the wall. Now the pain was quite real, and he noticed lines of blood trickling down his palm. He did his best not to give the others the satisfaction of seeing him wince.

  “So prove it,” Kastrius snarled.

  “As I indicated, I know only the most basic techniques,” Veltar said, holding open his palm. His eyes narrowed, and the air around him started to hiss. A moment later a plume of flame burst from his skin and lashed out hungrily towards the ceiling. The fire danced at his command, rippling back and forth but never getting quite close enough to burn anything. After a full minute of that, he closed his palm and the flames vanished.

  The senator didn’t keel over or cry out or even wince; the Flensing hadn’t so much as prickled his skin. A true master in his prime might have been able to pull off such a stunt without any pain, but not a fat old politician.

  “And that is just a small taste,” Veltar said, his smile returning, “of the weapon we have discovered.”

  Kastrius started to reply, but from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of one of the potted plants in the hall. It was black and withered like it hadn’t been watered in months. Only a minute ago it had been a pure, vibrant green…

  “All power comes with a price,” the senator added, “but that, too, can be a weapon. All of which I will fully explain in time.”

  Kastrius tore his eyes from the plant and returned to glaring at the man in front of him. “Just one more thing you never bothered to mention to us.”

  “The time wasn’t right,” Veltar said almost apologetically. “Now it is. You are here in the city, and I can begin to instruct you in the basics. And once the general brings us the rest of the scrolls, we can expand our knowledge together. This is just the beginning.”

  “An army of magi without the limitations of the Flensing or the Siphons would be…” Bremen trailed off, his ghostly head shaking. “Unstoppable.”

  The senator nodded. “A thousand years ago, the Edehans called it the Sundering. They believed the servants of Abalor had nearly broken the Fane and doomed the world, but all of us have long since learned to see past Edehan lies and hyperbole. What they were afraid of was losing control—of allowing the best and brightest men and women the opportunity to live up to their potential.” He smiled again. “Now we have the opportunity to finish what our ancestors started. We can Consecrate the Fane and free it from Edeh’s Curse. We can restore Abalor from his prison and rebuild the glory that was Septuria…and we can crush the Empress and her supporters once and for all.”

  Kastrius plucked the splinters from his hand. “And the Kirshane have had this power all along? Why didn’t they use it?”

  “Because they believe it is evil, an affront to their weak goddess. They buried it away for a millennium and have hunted down and destroyed any Balorite who discovered its secret. Now that they’ve been dealt with…”

   Bremen’s eyes narrowed. “Your timing is incredibly convenient, Senator. I still wonder what it is you really hope to gain from all of this.”

   “I plan to live up to our bargain, just as I have all along. You, my prince, will sit on the throne as the new Emperor, and General Bremen will have full command over our military forces. You both get exactly what you’ve wanted.”

  “And what about you?” Bremen asked. “What do you want?”

  “What I want is glory for Our Lord,” Veltar told him. “And I am, as always, content to serve Him in any way He sees fit—in this case, as an advisor to the throne and spiritual leader of our new regime.”

  Bremen grunted. “Naturally.”

  “Doubt me if you like, but everything I have done is for the glory of Abalor. And now we finally stand ready to reclaim our nation in his name.”

  Kastrius paced to the side. “If your motives are so pure, then why didn’t you tell us about this from the beginning?”

  Veltar sighed and rubbed at his chin. “The two of you have been obsessed with the legend of the Kirshal for as long as I have known you. When you stumbled across those ruins near Argoth last year, it made it even worse.”

  “You could have told us that she was already de
ad. You could have given us the entire story.”

   “And why would you have believed me?” Veltar countered. “I have no proof. The Kirshane concealed her discovery—and her death—from everyone. Instead I decided to channel your boundless obsession into something useful.”

  “That’s a flimsy rationalization,” Kastrius growled. “You could have told us about the Kirshane and this hidden power. You could have explained that we needed to draw them out. Instead you chose to manipulate us, and now you expect us to trust you?”

  Veltar scoffed. “I don’t expect you to trust me at all. What I do expect is that you’ll recognize I’m giving you exactly what you want. Once you’re sitting on the throne, are you really going to care how you got there?”

  “You live in a world of deceit, Senator,” Bremen said in a menacing whisper. “To you, mistrust is a daily routine. To me, it costs lives. A soldier who betrays his comrades is even worse than the enemy.”

  “Welcome to the real world, General,” the old man sneered. “You lost your command because you didn’t understand politics. Now I’m giving it back to you the same way. I suggest you accept it and move on.”

  Bremen’s image continued to scowl at the old man, and Kastrius shook his head into the silence. He certainly wasn’t happy about any of it, but there was a chance Veltar was right. But it left a great deal of questions unanswered…

  “Who was she, anyway?” he asked. “The fake Kirshal you instructed in this power?”

  “A gifted disciple. She was a…reluctant volunteer who realized her sacrifice was for the greater good.”

  “Aren’t you worried about her exposing you?”

  “Her memories were destroyed. She’s effectively dead already.”

  “Such loyalty,” Bremen muttered. “It’s a wonder you have any followers at all.”

  “But you said yourself she was gifted, and we have seen what she is capable of,” Kastrius pressed. “If she did escape with Rook’s followers, they will surely attempt to rescue him.”

  “I would have preferred she died with the Kirshane,” Veltar admitted, turning a cool glance to Bremen. “But unfortunately, we chose to kill a loyal priest of Abalor instead.”

  “If you were there with Faedan, you would have suffered the same fate,” Bremen said flatly.

  Veltar sighed. “Well, hopefully your wrath had time to cool during your trip here. In any event, the imposter shouldn’t pose a threat to us, and I doubt Rook’s people are so suicidal as to try and confront us. But if they do, we’ll be ready for them.”

  “That still leaves the question of what to do with Rook himself,” Kastrius said. “You don’t believe his claim that he carries the Kirshal’s power.”

  Veltar snorted. “Of course not. She had no power to begin with. Jonas Bale was a misguided fool trying to justify a lifetime of failures.”

  “And you’re willing to take that chance?” Bremen asked. “To risk throwing away a possible gift from Our Lord?”

  “No,” the old man said, smiling again. “Bring Rook here with you. Once we’ve dealt with the Empress, we’ll have plenty of time to find a way to test his power and see how we can use it.”

  Kastrius nodded. It wasn’t the coup he had planned, certainly, but in some ways it would be even better. If this ancient technique really was as powerful as it seemed, then their victory over the Empress was assured. And if Rook really did carry the soul of Edeh, then all the work he’d done over the years to find the Kirshal would finally pay off.

  What concerned the prince the most at this point was the aftermath. Veltar had proven his treachery already, and Kastrius knew he was still the weakest link in their triumvirate. Regardless of what happened with Rook, he was going to have to make a move against the senator sooner rather than later. Perhaps he could convince Bremen to make it with him—or perhaps he should simply kill them both. In the end, that was probably for the best.

  “Come back to Haven, General,” Kastrius said. “We can discuss this more when you arrive.”

  “Yes, my prince,” the man replied, his eyes turning to Veltar, “we shall indeed.”