Blood Solace (Blood Grace Book 2)

by Vela Roth

  “And I’m the lucky fellow who avowed this heroic figure last year.” Lyros gestured to his Grace.

  “Cassia, would you like me to stay with you?” Komnena asked. “Or shall I leave you three to talk?”

  It wasn’t just Mak and Lyros’s physical strength that seemed to surround Cassia. There was something about their presence that made her feel reassured. “I am sure you are needed downstairs. I will be fine here with Mak and Lyros.”

  “Call me if you need anything.” On the way toward the door, Komnena planted a kiss on Mak’s cheek and a caress on Lyros’s hair. “All your elders are counting our blessings tonight, my dear ones.”

  Mak sat down next to her on the couch. “So this is the valiant fighter who vowed to march to Anthros’s pyre by our sides.”

  “Oh, Lio’s tales about me make even my bitter outbursts sound noble, I expect.”

  “But they are noble,” said Lyros. Although not as massive as Mak, his fitness and strength would be the envy of any Tenebran warrior who met him, and he too was taller than any of them. He had the thoughtful, perceptive gaze of a strategist.

  “He’s told me a great deal about you two, as well. I’m very glad the rest of the embassy isn’t peering over our shoulders, so I can tell you truly how happy I am to meet you.”

  Mak’s good cheer faded. “I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

  Lyros’s mouth tightened. “On behalf of the Stand, allow us to tell you how much we regret that the attack came before your escort reached you. That should never have been such a close call.”

  “Everyone is safe now. That’s all that matters. I…” She had just met them, her head was still spinning, but somehow it felt so easy to be honest with them. “I saw one of the trophies the heart hunters took tonight. I didn’t know whose fangs they were. I thought some of you had fallen, but I didn’t know who.”

  Lyros shook his head. “We are so sorry you had to endure such terror, Cassia.”

  “It’s Basir who lost his canines,” said Mak, “but don’t feel too sorry for him. He’s going to take a holiday for the first time in a hundred years.”

  Lyros smirked. “Bedrest. Helpless under Kumeta’s care. He has to let his Grace feed him until his fangs grow back. The rest of him is in one piece, though.”

  Cassia covered her mouth. “That’s terrible.” But a little laugh bubbled out of her.

  “You’re going to be all right,” Mak told her.

  Hot tears burned at the back of her eyes, and her throat closed. Mak was right. She was going to be all right.

  She blinked hard. “Stewards, I would like to tell you all the secrets the mages in the embassy think they are keeping. There will be no repeats of tonight.”

  “Not on our watch.” The way Lyros looked at her made her realize he meant the three of them.

  “Go ahead,” Mak encouraged.

  “The mages who came with the embassy are trying to repeat Dalos’s deceit. The peacock who considers himself our leader will introduce himself as Adelphos, an honored master from the Temple of Anthros at Solorum. He is in fact Dexion Chrysanthos of the Aithourian Circle, a war mage from Cordium, as surely as Dalos was.”

  “Thank you for the warning,” Lyros said. “Fortunately, Basir and Kumeta discovered the true identity of Chrysanthos and his war circle when they were at the Autumn Greeting.”

  “Basir and Kumeta were at the Greeting? They have been errant in Tenebra after the Summit ended?”

  “Basir and Kumeta are always errant,” Mak answered. “It seems Lio didn’t have the chance to reveal all of Orthros’s most closely guarded secrets and left this one for us.”

  “Orthros has an envoy service,” Lyros told her. “The Mage Orders believe them to be messengers attached to the diplomatic service.”

  Mak grinned. “The enemy still has no idea that the envoys are actually spies who have been gathering information for centuries.”

  “Basir and Kumeta are the best,” Lyros said, “the oldest, and the founders of the entire envoy service. They are the Queens’ Master Envoys, the spymasters of Orthros.”

  Cassia shook her head. “No wonder Lio thought Dalos should be worried about facing them.”

  “Oh, yes,” Mak replied. “They have kept us well informed about the Aithourians, including Chrysanthos. We expected that wolf to put on sheep’s clothing and usurp a Tenebran mage’s place in the embassy.”

  To think, while Cassia had suffered through the dance with Flavian, two of Lio’s people had been there all along, within reach, and she had not known.

  What had they told Lio about what had transpired?

  Cassia must focus on the imperative at hand. “So you know Chrysanthos’s apprentice, Tychon, is a fire mage in training. Then there is Eudias, who came with Dalos from Cordium. No one seems to consider him very capable, but I should warn you the glowing baubles we saw him conjure at Solorum were not light magery. It is his affinity for lightning that earned him his unlikely induction into the Aithourian Circle.”

  Mak snorted. “Just a couple of half-baked Aithourian hopefuls and a temple decoration from Corona. I’m disappointed. I thought the Orders would come up with something creative.”

  “The necromancer is the trick up their sleeve,” said Cassia. “Master Skleros is from Tenebra, but he is affiliated with the Cordian Order of Hypnos. The Dexion handpicked him to join the embassy, with the approval of the Akron and the Synthikos.”

  Lyros’s eyes narrowed. “The Aithourian Circle is allied with a Gift Collector? That we didn’t know.”

  “Then you are aware of Skleros’s profession.”

  Mak made a face. “His arsenal is impossible to miss.”

  “No other necromancers augment their spells with steel,” Lyros explained. “Gift Collectors will arm themselves with anything that does not technically qualify as a weapon under the Orders’ regulations against mages becoming warriors.”

  “Spurs,” Mak said. “Whips. Every blade they can pilfer from the cook, carpenter or tanner.”

  Lyros nodded. “The inquisitors take no action to prevent such abuse of the rules because they like the results.”

  “Skleros is making it very clear to us that he’s a Gift Collector,” Mak concluded.

  “It’s extremely surprising,” Lyros went on. “His kind make every effort to conceal their identities from us.”

  “We’ve never even seen a Gift Collector,” Mak enthused. “I hope we get to make him regret showing his face.”

  “He’s not just any Gift Collector, according to Chrysanthos,” Cassia warned. “He’s been at it for a lifetime and…” The vision of Basir’s fangs flashed in her mind again, and she regretted imagining what trophies Skleros might collect. She fixed her attention on the living, powerful Hesperines before her. “Skleros holds the Order of Hypnos’s record for collecting the most Hesperine bounties.”

  The look in Mak’s eye became dangerous. “He will definitely regret crossing the Stand.”

  “He is the one who has helped Dalos and Chrysanthos hide their magic from you. I can provide details about how he achieved it.”

  “That’s incredible news, Cassia,” Lyros said. “Our scholars will want to hear everything you know.”

  “You already have an appointment with Mother when we arrive in Selas,” Mak informed her. “We’re fortunate you can help us assess what we’re up against.”

  “Who we’re up against,” Cassia said. “No matter what face he wears, the enemy is always the same. The king. The heart hunters were quite blatant about it, for they did not expect me to survive to tell anyone. The king hired them to get rid of everyone he didn’t want in the embassy.”

  Mak and Lyros answered her with silence.

  Yes. Her own father. She could not say it, but they knew it now. Her own father had bartered her to heart hunters to be captured, raped and murdered.

  Mak put a hand on her shoulder, and she realized she was shaking with rage and pain and all the fear she had not been ab
le to afford in those moments when she thought the end had come.

  “You are one of the bravest people we have ever met,” Mak told her.

  An extraordinary impulse compelled her to put her arms around him. She had just met him. She never trusted people this immediately. He might think her gesture inappropriate. But she embraced him.

  He held her close, wrapping her up in a bear hug as if it made perfect sense. He smelled of cloves, and she could feel his magic like another fragrance around him. Hesperine warding magic, strong and familiar, the same power that had saved her life when she was a child of seven.

  “That means more than I can say, coming from the two of you.”

  “I’m glad you’re on our side,” Mak said, “and you’re safe on ours, Cassia.”

  Lyros rested his hand on her back. “You’re in Orthros now, under our protection. It shouldn’t have been so hard for you to get here. But it will be easier from now on.”

  Yes, it would. For she no longer fought alone.

  “Lio couldn’t be here just now to tell you that,” Mak added, “so we wanted to, in his absence.”

  “His work in the pass isn’t done,” said Lyros.

  Cassia searched their gazes. “Is he all right?”

  Mak exchanged a glance with his Grace. “I’m not sure.”

  “He’s going to need you, Cassia,” said Lyros.

  Her cheeks flushed. How much had Lio told his Trial brothers about what he and Cassia had shared? “I—I don’t know how things stand between us.”

  Mak opened his mouth, but Lyros said quickly, “You will get a chance to talk to Lio soon.” Lyros took her hand in both of his. “Cassia, whatever you need, no matter what, no matter when, we are here. You can rely on us for anything. We want you to know how thankful we are for what you’ve done for all of us, and especially for Lio.”

  Cassia gave Lyros’s hands a squeeze. “I’ve been sick with worry for him. But I know you’ve been looking out for him. You have my gratitude.”

  “And you have ours,” Mak told her.

  Survivors

  The ward was playing tricks on him, one of Orthros’s own. Through the pulse of blood magic and the ebb and flow of the wind, Lio thought he could hear a human heartbeat.

  He had to know. He followed the vague hint of a sound. He braved what he knew lay between him and his fool’s errand. He must brave it.

  He had laid waste to an army tonight, and yet his magic was not spent. Wrapped in his illusions, he drifted between the members of the Charge who were collecting the bodies, and the Hesperines errant did not mark his passage. He walked among the dead, matching faces to memories. Hopes. Lives, but how ill-lived.

  Heart hunters did not deserve the Mercy his people would give them.

  As soon as Lio thought it, he felt shame. But he already knew he was capable of such thoughts. Precisely the kind of thoughts that caused tragedies like this. Thoughts that destroyed control.

  And yet Lio did not understand how it had happened. He had felt fully in command of his magic, so sure of his course. He had felt them die. But he had not felt the moment his power escaped him.

  How could it be so…possible to make such a mistake? He played the moment over and over in his mind, but gained no clarity. He listened, and his ears still thought they heard a heartbeat.

  No, that was a mortal’s pulse.

  He followed it and found himself standing over the body of the heart hunter who had aimed a crossbow at his Grace. Basir’s fangs gleamed upon the man’s chest, where that lone heartbeat carried on.

  Lio dropped to his knees, reaching toward the man’s sick prize. When a hand closed over Lio’s, he froze.

  How many times had that strong hand helped him up when he had fallen? Lio slowly lifted his head and met his Ritual father’s gaze over the heart hunter’s body.

  “You did well tonight,” Rudhira said.

  “I don’t know if I killed them.”

  Rudhira squeezed his hand, then pushed it gently aside. He collected Basir’s fangs and wrapped them in a handkerchief. He tucked the pristine cloth into one of his boots, which was smeared with a bloody hand print.

  Rudhira stood, then pulled Lio to his feet. “There is one left. I have strengthened his mind and body so he will survive the trip back to Castra Justa. Whatever happened here tonight, as far as I am concerned, you followed my instructions to kill only if necessary and take prisoners for questioning.”

  “With all these men as captives, you could have used interrogation and ransom to dismantle half the heart hunter activity in the region. You could have dealt their way of life a decisive blow. But dead, they are martyrs to their brothers. I wouldn’t do this, Rudhira. And yet, how can I deny the evidence that I did?”

  “Lio.” His Ritual father shook his head. “Do not waste your regrets on these men.”

  “Our creed is to kill only if there is no other solution, in the face of any evil. There was another way.” Lio held out his hand, pointing to his palm. “I had them. Right here. Every one of them. And I did not lose a single one, although there were hundreds. I am certain of that, because I learned of my power in that moment. I could have held ten times more minds.”

  “I know how it feels to have the power of life and death over others.”

  Lio hesitated, his gaze drifting over the corpses of men and dogs, his head pounding with the odor of death. “How many have you killed?”

  “I make a point not to keep count.”

  “They are not a number,” Lio said softly. “They are men.”

  “It never gets easier,” his Ritual father confessed. “When it does, then I will truly despair of myself. These feelings you are having are good and right and proof enough you are the same person you were last night.”

  “I am. I am the diplomat who fought in the duel against Dalos. Surely—it must be possible—he might still be the only life on my conscience. I see it now. I was not the only thelemancer at work here tonight.”

  “Yes, the heart hunters had the aid of mind mages—enough of them to take Basir by surprise.”

  Lio shook his head. “There was only one.”

  Surprise flashed in Rudhira’s gray eyes.

  “The heart hunters thought of him as ‘the boss,’” Lio explained. “At first, I assumed they meant their hornbearer. I realize now he is someone more. I encountered him within the heart hunters. The same mind held sway over all of theirs.”

  “Then no hedge warlocks or apostate sorcerers were at work here.”

  “He is a mage of dreams,” Lio realized.

  Rudhira’s jaw clenched. “He must be. Only a highly trained mage of Hypnos could single-handedly do so much against Hesperines.”

  “He was influencing the heart hunters’ minds directly to ensure they did his and the king’s bidding. It seems Lucis has more than a few mages assisting him with his…” Lio’s lip twisted. “…ambitions.”

  “One mage of dreams enabled the hunters to capture Basir, evade Kumeta and move a force of hundreds this close to the border. On my watch! We have had the envoys and the Charge on high alert, patrolling for precisely this kind of trouble, and yet Basir and Kumeta suffered a close call, and heart hunters made it into Martyrs’ Pass. Lyta will be out for the mage’s blood, but I will spare her the trouble.”

  “Few mind mages can achieve what he did here tonight. Most thelemancers that powerful haunt the halls of Corona and belong to the Inner Eyes of the Order of Hypnos.” Lio swallowed. “Unless they are Hesperines.”

  “Then attaching a Gift Collector to the embassy is not the Order of Hypnos’s only involvement in the Solstice Summit. The Inner Eyes must have sent the mage of dreams ahead to lie in wait at the border and oversee the Tenebrans’ crossing into Orthros.”

  “One servant of Hypnos to ride into Orthros with the king’s allies, appearing blameless with the other ‘victims’ of the attack, and a second to stay behind and ensure the rest of the embassy never makes it, using the heart hunters as a weapon.
”

  Rudhira nodded. “The two can’t relish working together, but a robe from the Inner Eyes and a Gift Collector would tolerate one another for results like they achieved tonight. I have never in my centuries seen heart hunters launch such a sophisticated attack in such cooperation. About a dozen hornbearers led the assault—three or four of the largest warbands, plus several of the smaller aspirants. We have a long history of skirmishes with these men and know their crimes in these mountains. They are raiders, not an army. It is clear that tonight, they followed Lucis’s strategy, lured by his gold, emboldened by the aid of Ordered mages.”

  “How very like a mage of dreams to wear gloves, rather than dirty his own hands. The heart hunters make the perfect tool. Everyone knows they are renegades. The king and the Orders can appear blameless. If Orthros were to revoke our invitation to the embassy on these grounds, it would reflect on us, not the Tenebrans’ official representatives. The attackers may be Tenebrans, but they are heart hunters—causing trouble for Hesperines is what they do.”

  “This could have been a disaster. But it was not.”

  Lio bowed his head, listening to that last, tenuous heartbeat at his feet. “What reason could the other mind mage have had to kill his own soldiers at a crucial moment during the attack? Why not try to wrest them from me?”

  “Perhaps he knew he had no hope of defeating you.”

  “If that were the case, a mage with no regard for human life would drive them mad and set them loose to do as much damage as possible. It seems destroying them would have cost him everything and gained him nothing.”

  Rudhira put a hand on Lio’s shoulder.

  A thought occurred to Lio, and even as he voiced it, he wondered if he was grasping at dreams to give his conscience false comfort. “Could he have been so determined to keep me from learning who he is that he would sacrifice his entire force and his chance at victory?”

  “Only you can tell us what happened in that moment. But I can tell you how many lives you saved tonight.”

  The prince slung the heart hunter over his shoulder and stepped into the storm.