Blood Solace (Blood Grace Book 2)

by Vela Roth

  Xandra was the first to prick her finger and stain the white marble railing in front of her with blood to signify her vote of approval. Rudhira wasted no time doing the same. Lio saw his parents’ blood mingle on the stone behind Anastasios. In the rows behind them, red droplets appeared from the independent bloodlines who owed Father their Gift. Uncle Argyros and Aunt Lyta pressed their thumbs to the railing together, then Basir and Kumeta, then many others in their section.

  The air filled with the scent of the Gift, and Lio tallied the crimson stains, weighing them against the blood that remained unshed.

  His own blood chilled in his veins, then burned with frustration. No. Not after all of this.

  He was going to lose.

  A quake of power shook the Blood Union. He looked toward the source. A droplet of red on Kassandra’s finger.

  She held up her hand and let the drop of blood fall to the stone in front of her.

  Silence fell. No one moved.

  Then suddenly Lio saw votes in blood everywhere he looked. Before he knew it, he could count the nays on one hand. One untouched patch of marble lay before Hypatia, although many railings behind her bore traces of blood. Princess Konstantina stood stiffly without touching the clean stone in front of her, her children unmoving behind her, while all her siblings and their families and some of her own descendants joined Rudhira and Xandra in voting.

  At last she raised her hands. The drops of blood transformed into orbs of light and rose before each voter.

  Although no one could doubt the outcome, tradition demanded the oldest child of each of the elder firstbloods must stand and count aloud on behalf of their bloodlines and tributaries. Kia’s, Nodora’s and Lyros’s eldest siblings rose to perform their tallies, while Kadi stood on Nike’s behalf. One of Kassandra’s tributaries performed the office for Prometheus, as a tributary of Blood Komnena counted in Lio’s place.

  Lio, honor-bound to observe silently from the podium, hoped Prometheus watched with him from the stars. Lio met Kassandra’s gaze, pouring his gratitude to her into the Blood Union. She smiled at him and lounged back in her seat with an expression of satisfaction.

  Together they beheld the rare sight of the First Prince, rather than the Second Princess, tallying the royal votes. He and his sister exchanged a charged glance.

  At last Princess Konstantina turned and looked to the Queens, her aura beseeching. “Annassa, what is your Will?”

  “We shall make it known to Tenebra and Cordium,” Queen Soteira replied.

  Queen Alea took her hand. “Let them hear it from our own lips.”

  It seemed to cost Princess Konstantina great effort to turn and face the crowd again. “Ambassador Deukalion, Firstgift Komnenos, the Circle…and your Queens…have approved your proposal. May the Goddess’s Eyes watch the path you have laid before your people.”

  94

  Nights Until

  WINTER SOLSTICE

  A lady always honors the queen.

  —Solia’s instructions to Cassia

  The Resources for Victory

  What had the king said and done while she slept?

  Cassia opened her eyes to the question that was always her first waking thought. She calmed her suddenly pounding heart with logic. She could not defeat him if she sickened from lack of sleep. She must accept she could not be everywhere at once. She must come to terms with wasted opportunities. Her reach went farther than the hearth, and her plan against the king was built on more than his self-incriminating words.

  That was truer now than ever before. Now that she had committed to the last resort, no matter what it cost her. Time to rise and forge ahead.

  Her body refused to move.

  One day at a time, she admonished herself.

  This one was almost over. The light in her room was the color of dusk. At nightfall, Chrysanthos had an appointment with the king. The sleep she had snatched would keep her on her feet during the conference.

  But even reducing her focus to only the next few hours was not enough to stir her limbs.

  She lay there a moment longer and tried again. She still had the strength to try. That was a good sign, surely. When she no longer had it in her to make an effort, then she would be truly concerned that she did not have the inner resources necessary to realize her course of action.

  Her feelings had not yet breathed their last. Her powerful, unruly and renegade emotions, which she had once regarded as a weakness and a threat to both her reason and her body. She knew now they too gave her strength.

  She reached for her anger. She could always rely on that.

  She sank into emptiness. Something worse awaited her below. She could almost feel it. Apathy.

  So this was what she was made of, in moments when her anger failed to sustain her.

  Cassia looked up at the plaster ceiling and listened to the evening birds outside her window. She contemplated the distance between her effort to get out of bed and her body, which had yet to move.

  What was wrong with her? How could she give into this malaise more and more each day? How could her body fail her like this?

  Her body, which had made love to Lio. Her body, which had bled to sate him, to bring their roses back to life, to power the Hesperines’ spell against Dalos. Her body, which had climbed through a murder hole and given her the strength to save the glyph stone.

  Cassia got out of bed.

  Her preparations took her longer than usual, and her steps dragged through the hidden passageways. But she made it to her post in the king’s fireplace just as Chrysanthos strolled into the solar.

  “It’s been three days,” said the king. “Have you found the witch?”

  “No,” Chrysanthos replied, but he did not sound concerned. In fact, he sounded interested. “I look forward to meeting her, when our search yields results at last. How long has it been since you burned a heretic on the greensward of Solorum, Basileus?”

  “See that it is not long before we burn the next one.”

  “Are you sure you do not wish for me to draw out the chase a little longer? The rumors you are circulating about a Hesperite sorceress on the loose are proving quite effective. Nothing like fear to warm ignorant minds to your alliance with my Order.”

  “Presenting the heretic in the flesh will be even more persuasive. So will the witch hunts that are sure to ensue across the kingdom.”

  “A useful pursuit to keep your Tenebran mages occupied. I’m sure you will understand if my brothers and I do not waste our time on such diversions. Once we have made an example out of the Solorum Hesperite, surely you will have all the justification you require to authorize our hunt for the greater enemy. We know all too well that Hesperines errant run rampant in your lands as we speak. My circle is eager to meet them in battle at last.”

  For one more night, Cassia had managed to escape becoming Chrysanthos’s justification for harming Lio’s people. For one more night, she stood between him and the Hesperines errant who were still risking their lives for mortals.

  “You will soon have your chance to destroy them,” the king promised.

  “I hear the heart hunters want their own chance at my targets. Reports abound of an increase in their activities. Since the Equinox Summit, it seems they are seeing red and lying in wait to intercept Hesperines crossing to and from Orthros.”

  The king made a dismissive gesture. “A perennial phenomenon. There have always been warbands of heart hunters roaming the northern border, acting as self-appointed guardians against Hesperines.”

  “Or as brigands and extortionists, I take it. I wonder how many have actually earned their name by taking a Hesperine’s heart and how many are merely common criminals.”

  “How difficult can it be to cut up a corpse?”

  “Ah, but Hesperines leave no corpses, Basileus. Allow me to share a detail known only to those of us who have slain them. The instant a Hesperine dies, their remains disappear in a flash of light. Some call it Anthros’s divine judgment, while other lege
nds hold it was a spell placed upon them by Aithouros, designed to outlive him as his eternal revenge.”

  How dare the mage reduce one of the most sacred aspects of Hesperine existence to an act of his god or his order’s magic? How dare Chrysanthos take credit for the Mercy in which Cassia’s own sister, though a mortal, had shared?

  “Regardless,” Chrysanthos went on, “if you wish to collect any physical samples from a Hesperine, you must do it while the creature is still alive, then kill it before it kills you. Of course, removing the heart is one of the few effective ways to truly destroy a Hesperine, as is decapitation. But what primitive tactics, compared to the pure elegance of immolation. I find it doubtful these heart hunters could be very successful at vivisecting powerful, vicious immortals. What do a lot of low-born, Orderless rabble think they can do against Hesperines?”

  “Their liegehounds are effective enough, although those mongrels are nothing compared to the pedigreed dogs from my kennels.”

  “The heart hunters seem eager to seize upon any excuse to breed more liegehounds and increase recruitment, the better to raid and drink their way across the mountain forests.”

  “It is convenient how the warbands siphon off village boys. Better that restless young men be initiated into the heart hunters’ delusions of brotherhood and aspire to violence against Hesperines than that they become traitors I must bother to hang.”

  “I deem them more suited to my circle’s pyre than your gallows, Basileus. The heart hunters’ warbands are dens of crude apostasy and forbidden nature arts. I will not hesitate to take action against them, should they interfere in Order business.”

  “Heart hunters have their uses. They can be brought in line, if necessary. Many act under the patronage of free lords who are loyal to me, such as Lord Severinus the Elder. You will find his true devotion to stamping out heresy quite to your taste. He and his household mage would answer the call eagerly, should you see fit to delegate your witch hunts to them.”

  “We have much to discuss regarding the Hesperite threat. Would you care to adjourn with me to the Sun Temple for a game of Kings and Mages? We would both be more comfortable at the board with a glass of wine in hand.”

  To the pyre with Chrysanthos. More and more, he drew the king out of the solar—and out of Cassia’s reach. Even before the Dexion’s arrival, the king had taken to joining the royal mage for regular matches of Kings and Mages. The men’s game of strategy was an age-old medium for schemes and conflicts that reached far beyond the board and its playing pieces. Cassia was dangerously blind and deaf to what transpired within the walls of the Temple of Anthros.

  Before the king could answer, the solar door slammed open. Chrysanthos and Lucis glared at the interloper.

  “I fear I must interrupt you, Basileus,” the royal mage announced in the tone of a warrior rallying his troops.

  He might be the only man in Tenebra who relished every chance to interrupt the king. He was skilled and diligent in his duties, but he knew it, and he was all too eager to indulge his own sense of importance.

  “Now is not the time,” the king warned him.

  “I have a message for you, Basileus. It is highly irregular. The master mage you appointed to the fortress of Frigorum has performed a traversal all the way from our northern border to bring me the news.”

  Murmurs erupted amongst the guards. Orthros. Monsters. Threat.

  Cassia clenched her hands into fists. Only a message of vital importance would warrant such an expense of magical power.

  Was she out of time? Was this the moment of disaster she had fought with all her might to prevent?

  Had the war already begun?

  “Speak,” the king commanded.

  “It’s the beacon, Basileus.”

  “I gave no order for the beacon to be lit.”

  “Not ours, Basileus. This has never happened, not ever in Tenebra’s history, nor even in legends. But before my colleague lost consciousness from the ordeal of his traversal, he attested to what has happened tonight. The Hesperines lit their beacon first.”

  Silence descended. Cassia heard her own heart pounding. She tried to mitigate her expectations, to quell the longing already taking hold of her. But she could not.

  It was said the beacon was a clear, white light, like a star. She had never seen it with her own eyes, but now in her memory she could see such a light, which a Hesperine had made from his blood for her, like a star in his hands.

  “You’re the expert on Hesperines, Dexion,” the king said. “How do you interpret this?”

  “I can only assume they mean the same thing by it that you would, Basileus. They appear to be inviting you to a Summit.” Chrysanthos smiled. “This could present an opportunity.”

  “Let Orthros’s advance delegates explain to Us the meaning of this unprecedented gesture. I assume the Hesperines’ representatives are waiting at the customary site on the border. A party of my agents from Frigorum will meet them, as they did last year when We settled the terms for the Hesperines’ visit to Our lands. When I receive word of the creatures’ intentions, I will decide how further to respond.”

  The royal mage lifted his hands, and between them, the barest hint of orange light glowed. “Allow me to appoint one of my mages to traverse back to Frigorum and convey your decision, Basileus.”

  Chrysanthos gave the royal mage a condescending smile. “At this rate, half the mages in Tenebra will soon be in dead faints. My brothers and I will take it from here.”

  The Cost of Passage

  It was almost dawn when Tychon returned from the border. He traversed right into the king’s solar and landed on his feet among his war circle, who had joined Chrysanthos there.

  The Dexion put his arm around the young mage to support him. “Basileus. I ask your forbearance, that my apprentice may sit in your presence.”

  At Lucis’s nod, Chrysanthos seated Tychon in the chair before the desk.

  The apprentice was pale as death and soaked in sweat, but he had enough breath to speak. “Basileus, Dexion. The Queens of Orthros have invited an embassy from Tenebra to enter their land.”

  The Queens of Orthros had just torn the foundation from beneath all Cassia’s plans, and she had never felt such hope.

  Hope. At last. The Hesperines had lit their beacon. They were her beacon.

  This changed everything.

  “By Anthros,” said the royal mage, “they have never been so obvious in their attempts to lure mortals into their clutches. The vile sirens are calling us toward their corruption loud and clear.”

  “On the contrary,” said one of the Aithourians. “We must credit them for their subtlety.”

  Another Cordian mage nodded. “We can only wonder at their hidden motivations for such an elaborate scheme. The Akron has placed us here at the right time. An unprecedented time.”

  The Dexion asked Tychon, “You remained in the fortress behind the Tenebran mages’ wards, as we agreed, and did not use any war magic?”

  “Yes, Dexion. I did not allow the Hesperines to see me or gain an impression of my affinity. As soon as Basileus’s men returned to the fortress, I traversed back to you to relate what they learned from their meeting in the pass with the Hesperines’ representatives. The Tenebrans informed me they met with two of the members of the last embassy called Basir and Kumeta.”

  “Excellent. Continue.”

  “Basileus,” Tychon addressed the king, “the Queens of Orthros have laid out very specific terms. They say any free lords or their appointed representatives shall be welcomed as guests of Orthros to discuss matters of security and trade affecting your two kingdoms. A special invitation is open to the Tenebran mages of Anthros, Hypnos, Kyria and Chera to join the Hesperines’ scholars for a circle.” Tychon’s lip curled. “To ‘promote goodwill between cults.’ You, Basileus, are invited to send a representative to discuss matters of state.”

  “They delude themselves there is still a chance of swearing the Equinox Oath?” Chrysanthos
scoffed.

  “No, Master. They wish to propose a new treaty, which is to usher in a new age of cooperation. They have dubbed it the Solstice Oath, for it is to be sworn during their so-called ‘festival’ of Winter Solstice. They expect a party of mortal men—and women!—to enter Orthros before the snows make the mountains impassable, then remain through the winter.”

  “The passes will still be snowbound until well into the spring,” the Dexion observed. “I suppose the Hesperines have offered some guarantee of safe passage in and out of Orthros with the assistance of their magic. They wish to place the embassy at their mercy.”

  “Once a mortal steps into the Queens’ magic,” the royal mage warned, “there is no returning. Mark my words. Any who set foot in Orthros will never escape from behind the blood magic that marks the border. The Hesperines are trying to lure our finest to their deaths—or worse, their corruption.”

  The king rested one ring-heavy hand on the desk before him. “The Hesperines may issue as open an invitation as they like, but no one sets foot outside of Tenebra without my leave. I shall appoint the embassy, and it shall consist of men who shall see to it my will is done.”

  So he thought! Cassia would see to it the Hesperines’ open invitation did not stay behind the closed doors of the solar.

  “Basileus,” the royal mage burst out. “You intend to accept?”

  Lucis met Chrysanthos’s gaze. “I think this is too useful an opportunity to waste.”

  The geomagus protested, “Anyone we send faces certain destruction.”

  Chrysanthos’s voice was devoid of his courtly, gallant tone as never before. “Every war mage risks destruction when he faces his true enemy. I will not give up the Order’s first and only chance to penetrate the Hesperines’ domain. The Hesperines know they cannot run from my Order forever. I do not believe they really expect this stunt to save them. I must go and discover what they are really planning.”