“Ril, look what they did to your people. You told me yourself your people once had powers and look at them now. They are stripped of their gift.”
“As natural as breathing, a weave between minds. Beautiful. Gone. I know what they did, what they’ll do. But what will you do?”
Keha’ro sighed. “Stay away, as long as I can. I can’t let them get a hold of me, to sway me to their cause. But something else is coming too. I can feel it, Ril. A storm coming from across the sea.”
“I feel it too. We’ll need to stay hidden.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Fight through it. It won’t hurt you.”
“That…that hasn’t sunk in yet. Not being able to die. I can really live without food?”
Ril glowed brightly. “It might not kill you, but it could still drive you mad. Try not to think about it too much.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a stone,” Keha’ro murmured, leaning his head back against the cave wall. Wind howled outside, shifting glittering sand in the moonlight. He closed his eyes, focusing on the distant song calling to him, a song that was growing louder and getting closer. It was beautiful in a way, but dangerous too. It was a power greater than his own, a force he couldn’t stand against, couldn’t stop. What would such a song bring to the shores of Korinth, and why did it feel like it was searching for him, calling across the miles, tugging on his power as if they were bound by rope.
“Who are you?” he called to the song, sending his thoughts with the wind.
“Salvation,” it sang. “Stay still, little one. I will find you.”
CHAPTER 26
Reading about Korinth had been one thing, but actually seeing it in person was enough to take Kirheen’s breath away. It was far more beautiful than she’d imagined, tall towers of glimmering gold forming a semi-circle around the bay. On the outer edges of the city, glittering black sand stretched on as far as the eye could see. Korinth seemed to sit at the center of that void, a spot of light and vibrancy in a vast and unforgiving land.
“I’m starting to understand why Taverin has the reputation of being dull and lifeless. Just look at this place,” Tomias said, sweeping his hand out towards the city. “We’re not even out of the water yet and it’s putting us to shame.”
“Oh, and you better believe they’ll rub it in the first chance they get,” Samira said. “It’s a shame they’ve done so well isolating it from the rest of the world. Their staunch beliefs and thirst for power have earned them very little friends over the years. This could have been a bustling center for trade, a place of beauty and culture.”
Kirheen could hear the longing in her words, a desire to go back to a time that was long past. “You really wanted that, didn’t you?” she asked her. “You wanted Korinth to be united with the rest of the world.”
Samira answered, but her eyes never left Korinth. “I wanted many things for my city. And too many died trying to make that a reality. In the end, there was no breaking away from the old ways, no shedding the vile beliefs that have bred generation after generation of hate filled souls. And so, this cycle continues on and the only thing stopping that hatred from spreading beyond this place is me, as unfortunate as that is.”
Kirheen looked back to the city, soaking in the details as they crept closer and closer to their destination. So much power amassed in one place. They worshipped it, had made it the pinnacle of their society. If Samira hadn’t existed, she could have stumbled upon a very different world than the one she’d found when she’d left Sanctuary.
Barog, balanced atop a stack of crates, grunted and lowered the telescope he’d had pressed against his eye. “Well, they know we’re here. Look at those ships in the bay.”
Kirheen had been too distracted by the beauty of the city to notice much else, but there they were, several large ships all in a line. They blocked access to most of the bay, forcing them towards the only dock available, a dock brimming with soldiers dressed in red and gold. “Looks like we’re getting a rather warm welcome. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Don’t fret,” Samira said, annoyance leaking through her words. “The God Touched must be in an absolute panic knowing this heathen has returned to their shores.”
Barog grinned. “As they should. Seems you’ve got the Council of Blades worked into a frenzy too. Look at them squirm!”
Kirheen failed to see the humor in their words. If things went wrong, there was a chance of provoking a war with Korinth, which would only make the situation back in Val’shar worse. She was suddenly grateful for the power flowing through her veins, knowing it could very well be the answer to stilling their blades. Still, there was no telling what would happen when they reached the docks. While Kirheen and Samira were immune to the bite of an enemy blade, her friends were not.
They’d made most of the crew head below deck, keeping the bare minimum up top to navigate them safely into Korinth. Trista remained with Brennen, seeing to his recovery. The old man was improving, his mind clear of the corruption Samira had found, but he remained rattled by fear and weakness. She wondered if he’d ever be the same, if what he’d seen had warped him forever.
“You remember what I said?” Samira asked Barog.
“Yes,” he muttered. “If they try to board the ship while you’re off ruffling feathers, I’m to flee back to sea before we all end up riddled with arrows.”
Samira smiled, her lips curving into a wicked grin. “I doubt they’d dare, not unless they’d like a reminder of what my powers can do. Still, once I’m out of sight, they might warm up to the idea of causing trouble. Just keep your people safe, Barog.”
“That’s the plan.”
Hurry. Kirheen winced, an increasingly familiar voice ricocheted through her skull. The song calls. The song seeks. It will find what it hunts. Stop it.
Kirheen closed her eyes, let the wind drown out the sound of conversation around her. Her power reached beyond her body, seeking a familiar song. It filled her mind, a somber melody that coated her heart with despair. Close, so close. He was here, he was searching. And further away, another song could be heard, fluttering and innocent. Fearful. Stay hidden, she called. We’ll help you.
When she opened her eyes, Samira was staring at her. “You feel them too?”
“Yes,” Kirheen replied. “Elfrind is close. It won’t be long before he finds what he’s after.”
“Unfortunately, we must deal with this first. I’m going to petition our case to the Spears, but it is likely they’ll ignore what I say. Stopping Elfrind is still our top priority, with or without their permission, but I’d like to at least try to avoid bloodshed while we’re here.”
“I understand,” Kirheen said. Dread bubbled to life, spilling out of her heart and filling her with doubt. What if they didn’t get to him in time? With so much at stake, every moment mattered. Each second that ticked by, Elfrind took another step towards his goal, towards a well of power that could bring about the end of everything.
“We’re going to stop him,” Tomias said gently, his hand finding hers. She focused on the warmth of his skin, let it drive away the doubt festering in her body.
“He’s powerful. I couldn’t stop him before.”
“You’re not alone this time, and you’re in control of your power. It’ll be different this time.” A door creaked loudly behind them, the thud of boots on the wooden deck echoing beneath her feet. Tomias glanced over his shoulder and the look on his face told her all she needed to know. “I’m more worried about what to do about her.”
Mirin. Leader of the Seekers. Her mother. It was a truth that clung to her skin, refusing to settle in deeper. She had so many questions, but it wasn’t the time to ask them, not with the corruption so easily spurred to life within her. Now that she knew the cost, she couldn’t risk losing control again, and so she could do nothing but ignore the woman that had left her to her fate, that had let Sanctuary continue for all those years. One day she’d answer for her crimes, for the blood on her hands. Ki
rheen would make sure of it.
“Ouch, Kir. My hand.”
Kirheen jumped, Tomias’ words startling her out of her thoughts. She looked down, realizing how hard she’d been squeezing his hand, the skin blanched where her fingers had dug in deep. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just…”
“I know,” he said with a gentle smile. “Just stay focused.”
They were close now. Kirheen could see the soldiers on the docks, the detail of their armor. They wore light, flowing armor of burnished gold trimmed in dark crimson, their curved blades gleaming in the sunlight. Their posture was as cold and rigid as their steel, their expressions even more so. Like Samira, they were dark of skin, a beautiful variety of shades not found in her homeland. Unlike Samira, their hair was light, ranging from the brightest of silvers to dark honey colored strands, braided and elegant.
Curious citizens peered down at the docks from above, watching the soldiers and the approaching ship with interest. Among them were tall, long limbed creatures that Kirheen had never seen before. Their skin was unnatural, the color of ash with undertones of purple and blue. Elongated ears and sharp faces set them further apart from the others. “What are they?” Kirheen asked Samira.
“Ah. The Orgol. Korinth enslaved them long ago and stripped them of their power over the years. Now they are little more than slaves. The Nilgorinth, they are now called. Those without powers. Lowest of the low. We fought a war hoping to see the cruelty of their enslavement end, to see them given a sliver of the dignity they once possessed.”
“And now?”
“Nothing has changed. They are as much slaves now as they were then. I hope you get a chance to interact with them. They are an amazing people, filled with a wisdom and kindness my people could have learned so much from. Instead, we stripped them of all they had, but they’ve not let it diminish their spirit. They are better people than we can ever hope to be.”
Closer still and Kirheen could see the piercing gaze of the soldiers, bright eyes of silver and blue swimming with malice. A woman stood at the forefront, clad in the same gold and crimson, the loose fabric of her armor swaying with the breeze. Her white hair fell in a cascade of braids down to her hips. She looked stoic, dangerous.
“It can’t be,” Barog sputtered. “Is that Naree’na? Is she leading the Blades? This just gets better and better.”
Samira winced. “Not exactly the reunion I was expecting. Or wanting. I was hoping to avoid this.”
“Is that an old friend?” Tomias asked.
“Lover,” Barog was quick to clarify, his eyebrows rising and falling in quick succession.
“Oh,” Tomias said simply, as if it were the most natural thing he’d ever heard. Seconds passed, his expression blank until the words settled in. His brows shot towards the sky, eyes widening. “Oh!”
“Look, just because Taverin doesn’t know how to have a good time, it doesn’t mean the rest of the world has to be so dull,” Samira snapped. “Just be wary, Tomias. The women here are extraordinarily beautiful. You might find Kirheen straying from your side.”
“She wouldn’t,” he said nervously, eyes shifting in her direction. “Right?”
Kirheen said nothing, her lips parting into a smile. She’d never thought about it before. It was another oddity of Korinth that didn’t seem to have a place in her world. The concept was strange, but not unimaginable. Regardless of how she felt about it, it was still fun to see Tomias squirm. He raised a hand, brushing it through his hair, the other hand smoothing the fabric of his shirt.
“Of all the threats I thought I’d face in Korinth, this was not one of them.”
Samira looked back over her shoulder, eyes bright with amusement, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. There was an edge of worry to her features though, a sharpness she couldn’t quite hide. Her arms were crossed, her shoulders rigid. She’d wrapped herself in a cloak stitched with worry, her anxious energy carrying over the space between them.
Kirheen looked back to the soldiers, feeling the icy fingers of fear reaching for her heart. It was contagious, spreading between them with every glance and sigh. Samira straightened, eyes locked on the soldiers, a warning in her stance. Fire would be met with fire if they dared to strike the match.
There was a flurry of activity all around her as Barog and his remaining crew prepared to dock. Kirheen glanced to Mirin. She stood near the edge of the ship, surveying the docks with a critical glare. It was strange seeing her face exposed, a face so eerily similar to her own. In the light, she could see how exhausted she looked, weariness etched deep from years of chaos. Part of her wanted to understand how she’d slipped from Sanctuary only to end up as the leader of the Seekers. What had broken her so that she’d turned her blade on her own kind?
Stop looking at her, she scolded herself, averting her gaze from Mirin. What was the point? She’d obviously wanted nothing to do with her for years, had lost the capacity to think and feel anything other than hatred. What questions could she possibly have for such a woman, mother or not. She was a monster and one she intended to stay far, far away from once her purpose was served.
The ship rocked as they slid into the docks, her stomach flopping nervously at the sudden jolt. The clanking of armor could be heard from down below as the soldiers rearranged, steel singing as blades were loosed from crimson sheaths. Kirheen peered over the side of the ship only to be met with the piercing blue-eyed glare of the woman they’d called Naree’na. She was older than Kirheen had expected. It was easy to forget that Samira was much older than she looked, that while time had stood still for her, the people of her homeland had been ravaged by it.
“Samira,” Naree’na called, her voice booming like thunder, easily carrying over the wind. “Thought I recognized that song of yours. And you’ve brought…company. The Spears demand your presence immediately, but I’m far more inclined to cut you down where you stand. What are you doing here?”
Samira rolled her eyes. “I think we both know how that fight would end. Can’t say this wasn’t expected. You always were known for your temper.”
“Answer me,” the woman growled, grip tightening on her blade.
“I hate to disappoint you all, but I’m not here on the war path. We’ve come after a fugitive from Val’shar that has escaped our grasp, and I assure you, you’ve more to fear from him than you do from me. Surely you felt his arrival.”
Naree’na narrowed her eyes. “The only arrival we’ve felt has been yours, and you’ve riled the wrath of the Spears coming here like this. Did you really think you could just show up here without consequence?”
“There wasn’t time. I’ve no interest in being here, but our darling fugitive demands a certain level of expertise and finesse that Korinth simply cannot provide. Where is your newly awakened, by the way? Figured they’d have them tied in a cellar somewhere, torturing them like they once did me.”
Surprised glances passed between the soldiers. They knew exactly what it was Samira spoke of.
“Silence,” Naree’na snapped. “This is not your home any longer. You don’t just get to waltz in here like you own the place, power or not. You were exiled. You might not die if we strike, Samira, but you’ll still feel the cuts. And there are other ways to harm,” she sneered, eyes flicking to Barog.
Samira glared. “Eyes here – now,” she warned. “Don’t threaten me, Naree’na, or my friends. I won’t tolerate it, no matter the circumstance. You raise a blade and I will cut you all down where you stand, no matter the war it might cause.” With a flourish of her hand, shimmering blades appeared like swirling smoke around her head, glowing a ghastly blue. They dangled in the air like puppets, a visible threat with a tangible energy building in each blade, just waiting to be released.
Naree’na surveyed the blades and took a cautious step back. She raised her hands, warding away Samira’s anger. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Let us go to the Spears. You can explain yourself there. For now, your ship remains docked. No one comes, no one g
oes. You may bring one other with you before the Council, but no more.”
Her eyes not leaving Naree’na, Samira dipped her head in Kirheen’s direction. “I meet with the Spears alone. There is no reason to involve you. They’ll only see you as a threat, and we need them to agree to help capture Elfrind. They are powerful. With their help, there is no chance we’ll fail.”
“You can’t actually be serious,” Kirheen gasped, alarmed by the very idea of Samira going alone. “What if they don’t agree? What if you don’t come back?”
“Then you do what you must but see that Elfrind is stopped. Korinth means nothing, this world means nothing, if he is allowed to succeed.”
Tomias stepped forward. “Are you sure you want to go alone? This could be exactly what they want.”
Samira smirked. “Oh, without a doubt it is, but they made the mistake of underestimating me years ago. Let’s hope they do so again. Stay vigilant.” Samira narrowed her eyes, her words sharp as a blade. “If I do not return in a reasonable amount of time, my apprentice razes your city to the ground. I hope your people choose their actions carefully, love.”
“Noted,” Naree’na spat, eyes snapping to Kirheen. Those blue eyes examined her thoroughly, drifting down to the exposed crystals on her chest, humming with hidden potential. Her anger wilted, her face smoothing to a perfect mask of calm. With a snap of her fingers, her soldiers spread out, forming a circle in the middle of them. Samira sauntered onto the docks, taking her place in the center, barely batting an eye as they closed the circle, tightly surrounding her but not daring to touch her. A few soldiers stayed behind to block the path off the docks. Swords were held in tight grips, the restless soldiers all too ready to shed blood should something go wrong.
The clanking of armor became a distant sound and she watched Samira disappear up the ridge with the group of soldiers, her heart pounding all the while. “Gods, if something goes wrong, I won’t ever forgive her,” Kirheen sighed, biting her lip nervously.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Tomias said, frowning as he glanced at the soldiers. “She should have taken you with her.”
The Allseer Trilogy Page 82