Mortal Gods (Mantles of Power Book 2)

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Mortal Gods (Mantles of Power Book 2) Page 13

by Benjamin Medrano


  “That… is somewhat unexpected,” Alserah murmured, forcing down her surprise to keep the pain from emotions tolerable. She sat back, frowning as she continued, her thoughts racing. “When she told me what she believed last night, I thought that it was likely she was only telling me to get something. Or perhaps because her inhibitions were lowered. Now… you’re certain she wasn’t still under the effect of the drug?”

  “Absolutely certain, My Lady. She appeared to be suffering from an extremely unpleasant hangover when I arrived, and said that she planned to go back to bed after I left,” Moira replied, smiling thinly. “I’ll admit I found it slightly amusing.”

  “Speaking of the drug, I’m afraid that we haven’t made progress in finding who was behind it,” Hanrith said, looking displeased. “Lord Navian was horrified when he heard what had happened to the princess, and volunteered to submit to truthtelling magic. He apparently simply took the last two glasses of wine from a servant’s plate for the women and doesn’t remember what the servant looked like. All we have to go off of is a male servant in the palace uniform, and with as many of them as were present last night, it would be quite easy for someone to have impersonated one of them.”

  “That’s quite frustrating. Continue the investigation, Lord Commander. I don’t want them getting away with this easily,” Alserah replied, frowning slightly. She was still irritated with Niadra for getting into the situation to begin with, but if she hadn’t invited Kitania, Alserah might still be ignorant of the threat inside her own head. So she was intent on not punishing the princess, at least not over this. Unfortunately, chances were that the investigation would go nowhere.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Hanrith agreed, bowing deeply.

  “Moira, I’d like you to speak to the alchemists again. If they can safely brew one of these elixirs without Kitania’s assistance, have them do so. If they can’t, have them consult with her where necessary,” Alserah ordered, frowning as she paused, then continued. “I want to deal with this problem as soon as possible. After as long as it’s been, I dare not risk drawing out the spider’s removal. Northwind, you will be in charge of selecting guards with enchanted equipment and spellcasters to help deal with it.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Hanrith repeated himself again, though he looked a good deal happier this time.

  “Of course, My Lady,” Moira said, giving a graceful curtsey.

  “Please be about it, then,” Alserah told them, and watched the two turn to leave quickly.

  The goddess wasn’t happy about having to move so quickly, but she didn’t feel that she had much of a choice. If what Kitania said was true, it was entirely likely that Alserah was fortunate to have lived as long as she had. Especially since the first symptoms had appeared after Rosken.

  Alserah found that bitterly ironic, since Kitania had been present at the same battle where she’d likely been stabbed with the dream spider’s fang.

  Chapter 14

  “You’ve been here for how long?” Isalla asked, staring at Elliot and Cerithi, her fork halfway to her mouth as she paused in shock.

  “About seven centuries,” Elliot said easily, grinning as he spread the soft cheese on his roll. “Give or take a few decades, mind you. I stopped bothering to count after a while.”

  “I’m a newcomer compared to him,” Cerithi said, rolling her eyes as she continued to stir her soup, mixing in the milk she’d added to it. “I’ve only been here for a little over sixty years.”

  “That still seems like a rather long time to me,” Rose said, sitting back in her chair as she sipped from her glass.

  Isalla and Rose had taken to eating dinner each night with some of the angels who lived in Estalia’s palace, and there were rather more of them than Isalla had expected. Nine angels lived there, excluding at least six more she’d seen among the palace guard, and the other day Estalia had told Isalla that there was even a small colony of angels hidden in the mountains near the city. Isalla had been startled the first time she’d seen a couple of the gray or black-winged men and women in the palace as well, since the colors meant they were ashborn, the children of angels and demons.

  Elliot and Cerithi weren’t close to the oldest of the angels in the palace, either. Adain and Leena were the two who’d been there the longest, both of whom had revealed that they’d known Kitania when she was still around. That had shocked Isalla and Rose, as had the painting of Kitania that someone had finally bothered to show them. The picture had been of an impish, pink-skinned demoness in a turquoise gown as she looked over her shoulder back at the viewer, and the sight had been startling. It was hard for Isalla to think of Kitania and the woman in the painting as the same person, even if the smile did look mostly the same.

  “True, but I’ve also been a lot happier here than I was running a hospice near the front lines,” Cerithi said, shrugging slightly as the brunette smiled unhappily. “The number of times I had people trying to take advantage of me as a nurse… well, let’s just say it got old. If Lady Estalia hadn’t purchased me from the raiders, I’m pretty sure I’d have died anyway, and it was comfortable here, so I stayed.”

  “I don’t really think about what I did in the heavens anymore,” Elliot said, shrugging and taking a bite of his bread, which prompted Isalla to finally eat the salad on her fork. The man continued a moment later. “It just doesn’t feel that important.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t after so long,” Isalla murmured, shaking her head and sitting back, taking a moment to stretch her wings as she did so. The room wasn’t as dark as most of those in the hells, which certainly put her more at ease. Even if she did wonder how Kitania was doing. “I don’t suppose either of you know what will happen to the angels from Firewatch when they get here?”

  “You probably could ask Her Majesty,” Elliot pointed out, frowning slightly. “She meets with the pair of you a lot, after all.”

  “That relies on us remembering to ask when she’s in the room,” Rose said, smiling slightly as she did so, and Isalla managed to suppress the urge to blush as she nodded in agreement. She still hadn’t told Rose about her encounter with the queen, and her lover continued calmly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, she’s just a bit distracting.”

  That prompted everyone to laugh, and Cerithi nodded, smiling warmly. “True enough! I know I have trouble concentrating when she’s in the room. As for the other angels, I’ve been asked if I’m willing to help tend to their injuries once they arrive, so I know a little. There’s a prison barracks that’s attached to the palace where they’ll be housed, and I believe that she’s going to have as many mortals and angels take care of them as she can, to help them relax.”

  “Ah,” Isalla said, nodding in understanding. She still wasn’t exactly happy about the attack on Firewatch, and Rose had been even more conflicted, but they’d relaxed, especially after they’d heard all the defenders had survived.

  “They’re going to finish transporting them here… next week, was it?” Rose asked, setting her glass down as she looked at her food in consideration. “I think I heard that they’re teleporting them here.”

  “That sounds about right,” Elliot agreed. “All the lava flows in the region make transit more difficult by land, and good luck moving a hundred-odd angel captives by air. Even if a caravan didn’t get raided, it’d take too long to move them anywhere. Teleportation may take a lot of mana, but it’s also the safest way to move them. Most of the time, anyway, as the two of you showed.”

  “Only with Kitania’s help,” Isalla corrected, looking down unhappily. “I wish we knew what happened to her.”

  “You’ll find out soon, from what I’ve heard,” Cerithi assured her, smiling gently as she reached out to pat Isalla’s shoulder. “That’s only two weeks away, I believe.”

  “That’s right,” Rose agreed, her expression relaxing slightly as she added softly, “I’m looking forward to having a specific goal. Plus, Isalla’s new armor should be ready by that point.”

  “I can’t bel
ieve how fast the artificers here can work,” Isalla said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “The fitting yesterday feels like it came far too quickly, and they’re just so… brisk.”

  “It’s better than waiting a couple of months to get a set you can move in,” Elliot said, grinning broadly at Isalla. “I remember my first encounter with them, and I was surprised as well. The metalsmiths in the hells really are better than I had thought they’d be, back when I was in the heavens.”

  “It’s sort of the nature of the conflict. I think they trained us to underestimate the hells, or at least to look down on them,” Rose said, taking a sip of her soup.

  “It’s easy to do. I mean, the heavens are above the mortal world,” Cerithi said, her eyes twinkling as she continued. “We looked down on everyone.”

  Isalla couldn’t help laughing along with the others.

  Chapter 15

  “Are you certain that this is accurate?” Haral asked, looking at the document in more than a little disbelief.

  The sheet contained a report from the agents near Mist, the capital of the Forest of Sighs, and what it said… Haral was sure there had to be a mistake. She didn’t care what the sheet said, there shouldn’t be any way for a demon to survive Alserah’s defenses. The very thought was ridiculous.

  “As sure as can be. There’s gossip about it throughout the palace and among the nobility, so getting the information wasn’t hard,” Corram replied, flicking a few beads on his abacus as the angel continued updating his accounts. He looked up at her and shrugged as he explained. “If they’re right about her having the ability to regenerate from the attacks, it at least explains why the demon survived being teleported into the palace. It isn’t like she came out unscathed, from what I’ve heard.”

  “True. I’d just have expected Alserah to have put attacks in place to inhibit regeneration. It’s rather vexing to hear that anyone managed to survive, after all the effort that was put into that arrow,” Haral replied, her disbelief easing slightly. She still wasn’t happy that it seemed like Eziel had wasted such a valuable weapon, but there was nothing to be done about it. She still hadn’t heard anything back from Firewatch, but it’d be another week at best before she had solid information.

  “She was once mortal, so she’s bound to have blind spots,” Corram murmured, and Haral nodded in agreement. He continued after a moment, sighing. “I had hoped that they would react with holy fury at the intrusion, but instead, the populace appears to have reacted with curiosity, and by shoring up their defenses, which is unfortunate.”

  “Agreed. Their devotion to light obviously has wavered since the war,” Haral said, setting down the sheet on his desk and stepping over to the window to gaze across the city unhappily.

  Eldsyr was one of the older cities in the Forest of Sighs, and one of the farthest north as well. The city was beautiful, for a mortal city, with many elegant buildings of stone and wood, and large gardens and copses nestled among the city streets. The elven fortress atop the nearby hill caught Haral’s eye as well, with its white walls, the shimmering jewels in its towers and spires, and the handful of soldiers she could see atop its walls.

  Haral could even see a handful of angels flying over the city, though they were outnumbered by a dozen elven drake-riders out on patrol, their clothing fluttering in the wind. If she had to live somewhere in the mortal world, Haral supposed she wouldn’t mind Eldsyr. It was just unfortunate that their dedication had dimmed over the years.

  “For the light to shine in truth, sacrifices must be made,” Haral whispered under her breath, focusing her resolve. “To stoke the fires of true faith, those who are lacking must be removed.”

  “Lady Haral? Did you say something?” Corram asked, looking up from his document.

  “How many angels live in the Forest of Sighs?” Haral asked, ignoring the question as she looked back at him.

  Corram tugged on his beard, the brown-haired man frowning as he thought. Then he replied calmly. “I would say about two hundred in total. Sometimes more come through on trips, but that would be close to the usual population.”

  “I see. Well, hopefully they get out when the time comes,” Haral said, frowning as she continued. “You’re to quietly prepare to leave, Corram. Not immediately, of course. I want you to keep an eye on events and keep me informed. If Alserah won’t support the light wholeheartedly… well, she’ll just have to be an example to all the others who are wavering. Perhaps those who survive will have learned from the experience.”

  “I… as you say, Lady Haral. You just surprised me,” Corram said, looking slightly taken aback. “I didn’t expect for something like this to come so soon.”

  “We’re running out of time. The amount of time our plans can remain hidden is quickly coming to an end. The larger our faction grows, the more likely it is that the other members of the Holy Council will notice,” Haral explained, her smile unhappy as she continued. “Renewing the war with the hells, though… that will provide ample distraction for them, and give us the time we need to bring things to completion.”

  “I see, and I believe I understand,” Corram said, pushing the abacus aside for the moment as he nodded gravely. “I will do what I can to serve the light.”

  “Excellent,” Haral murmured, turning to take in the peaceful sight outside again, then continued softly. “I’ll return to the heavens tomorrow to finalize the plans. Keep me informed.”

  “As you say, Lady Haral,” Corram agreed, prompting Haral to smile. She wasn’t happy about her plans, but it was the best choice she had available to her.

  Chapter 16

  Kitania set aside the book and sighed, looking out the tiny window of her room. She’d been confined to the room for three days, except for brief trips to the bathing room each day, and she was getting even more restless than she’d been before. She’d read the book she’d borrowed from the library at least four times now, and there wasn’t anything that had caught her interest this time, which made it even more frustrating.

  Her room gleamed, at least, since the servants had been willing to bring her the supplies to keep it clean, but otherwise she’d been kept entirely in the dark ever since Moira’s visit and the subsequent visit by the court alchemists. Even the visit by Maura, the guard who’d first spoken to her, hadn’t given any new information, since the woman had said that they’d been ordered not to tell Kitania anything.

  So in the end, all she could do was wait. Kitania had also done what exercising she could, but the room was small and she couldn’t exercise endlessly, despite what some of the soldiers seemed to think. Even if she couldn’t die of exhaustion, she still got tired.

  That was why the sudden knock at the door startled her into jumping, and Kitania looked at it, blinking in surprise. It wasn’t near a mealtime, which made it even more perplexing, so after a moment she stood up and opened the door, asking, “Yes?”

  On the other side of the door was Hanrith, to Kitania’s surprise. He smiled thinly as he looked Kitania over, then spoke coolly. “Ah, I see you’re well enough, it seems.”

  “I am, though I must say that being confined to the room has been almost as boring as being in the cell,” Kitania replied, frowning slightly in return, a hint of discontent rippling through her. “Is something the matter? I’ve tried not to cause any problems over the last few days.”

  “The matter? No, I was just sent by Her Grace. She wishes for you to come see her,” Hanrith replied, looking Kitania over critically.

  “Is that so? Should I change into something nicer, then?” Kitania asked, looking down as she suppressed her surprise. She hadn’t been expecting to be called out of her room, so she’d worn the clothing she used for exercising and training with the soldiers.

  “No, your current clothing should suffice,” Hanrith replied after a moment, looking her in the eyes, his expression oddly tense, she thought. “Do you need to prepare yourself more?”

  “If this is fine, then no. If she wants to see me, I’d best not ke
ep her waiting,” Kitania replied, looking herself over quickly, then nodding. “I’m ready whenever you are, Sir Northwind.”

  “Excellent. Follow me, then,” Hanrith said, and he turned to lead the way through the halls of the palace.

  Kitania quickly followed him, closing her door behind her and ignoring the now-familiar presence of the soldiers behind her, since she wasn’t especially worried about them. Instead, she noticed that they were going in the same general direction as the ballroom, though it wasn’t quite the same route. As they drew closer to that section of the building, Kitania noticed several soldiers placed at intersections, as well as a lack of servants beyond them, and felt tension begin coiling inside her. If Alserah wanted to kill her, it wouldn’t make sense to go to all this effort, and Kitania was pretty certain it wouldn’t work, but it didn’t quite assuage her worries. Soon, they reached a door, and Hanrith opened it and stepped inside. Kitania stepped through the door, then stopped, blinking as understanding washed over her.

  The small room had been emptied of anything of value and had no furnishing except for a single chair and a small table next to it. Two guards in armor were in the room, each with weapons, as were a pair of magi, a man and woman who looked nervous. Moira was present as well, holding a large vial of liquid, and Alserah was standing next to the chair, a faintly unhappy look on her face. Considering that they were probably planning to draw out the dream spider, Kitania honestly couldn’t blame them. Still, it was best to be certain.

  “Pardon me, Your Grace, but may I ask if you’re planning to attempt to deal with the dream spider?” Kitania asked, bowing her head respectfully as Hanrith closed the door behind them, leaving her guards outside.

 

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