by Rosie Scott
The Sentinels and I quickly filled her in on the details of the past two moons, before we resorted to asking her questions about what she knew.
“Have you had any problems with creatures made of stone?” I inquired.
Naolin shook her head. “No, but if that's your only clue, I would search the Pedr Crags first.” She pointed off to the western cliffs. “Surely you'll be able to find some way up those damn rocks. You'll have to keep that army of yours filed down. No easy way through there.”
“We're looking forward to it,” Nyx mused, to which Naolin grinned.
“Have you noticed any movements from the Icilic?” Uriel asked the fifth Sentinel.
Naolin shook her head. “No.” She then perked up, snapped her fingers, and added, “Actually, I lied. Yes, there was one incident—”
Cyrus chuckled, one brown eyebrow raised in amusement. “And you forgot about it?”
Naolin grinned at him. “It's been a long fuckin' day, Cyrus, don't even start.”
Cyrus held both hands up in mock surrender.
Naolin finally pointed off to the northern Servis, where the patrolling warship was leaving white wakes behind in the choppy waters. “An Icilic warship broke through the fog just a fortnight or two ago. Never thought I'd say those words. Icilic warship.” She wrinkled her nose. “They came up with their own design and everything. Bulky vessel. Well-built, too, but I suppose that's to be expected.”
“What'd it do?” Cyrus prodded.
“Nothing,” Naolin replied. “Once it saw our warships along the coast, it slowly turned and made its way back through the fog and disappeared. It was the only ship that came. Best explanation I can figure is that it was a scout. I don't think it expected to see a navy here. As far as I know, that funky god that went running to Tilda was the one who told her they wanted to attack at all, and I don't think Glacia expected us to know about any of it.”
“That could be...either a good thing or a bad thing,” I mused, pondering.
Naolin nodded. “Exactly what I said. Either they'll hold off on any attacks because our ready defense will intimidate them, or they'll simply send higher numbers to combat it.”
“How are you supposed to get into contact with the other Sentinels if you are alone here?” I questioned.
Naolin pointed down the harbor and to the surrounding northwestern coast, where a handful of griffons were tied to a post with their reins. A caretaker stood nearby, holding a bucket. Reaching into it, he pulled out a sizeable raw fish, before launching it into the air toward one of the mounts. The griffon jerked its neck forward, snapping the fish out of the air with its golden beak, before tilting its head back and swallowing the food whole and head-first.
“Our messengers use the griffons,” the Sentinel explained. “One of them's already gone. I sent a messenger to Mistral after that incident, requesting additional soldiers. Tilda said she'd eventually send another army anyway, but we need to get on this. I have three thousand soldiers, and this is the only offloading point for an invading army unless they want to go all the way around and risk attacking Makani instead.”
“The central western coast is another good place,” Uriel commented.
Cyrus disagreed, shaking his head. “Don't forget, the Icilic seek Aleyah as well. There is no easy entrance into the Pedr Crags from that end, and even if she is located in the Cleves, that's a hell of a long trek, and through the center of Eteri, no less. That's too much of a risk for them. If the Icilic attack, it will be here. Esen would be easily overtaken, and they might desire to hold onto it to recuperate their army before moving forward.”
Naolin stared at the second Sentinel, mild offense on her face. “You insult my ability to defend this village.”
“I don't doubt your ability, Naolin. I doubt your numbers.”
“Yes, well, that's why I sent the request to begin with,” she retorted. “Now, let's hope she sends someone.”
Send someone? Which Sentinels are left to send? I pondered to myself. Only Altan and Bhaskar were left in Mistral unless the queen had already sent Altan's army to Makani. That left only the god of the sun, and Tilda would not be sending him.
Eteri had the second strongest army in the world, but it was being tested to its limits even this early in the war. I cursed Chairel and Hammerton for moving so quickly to attack T'ahal, because if it weren't for their movements, Kirek wouldn't have needed to leave Eteri. Kirek would have been an excellent choice to send to Esen to aid Naolin since this was her hometown. I was sure she would have jumped at the chance to defend it.
There was a cafe in Esen that we wanted to eat dinner at, though the establishment was packed to the brim with hungry soldiers from Naolin's army by the time we arrived. We finally decided to rely on the farmers to feed us, as much as I hated taking food from them. Most of us went our separate ways for the evening, with plans of grouping up at the southern edge of town the following morning. Nyx went to search for a soldier or two to spend the night with, and Anto and Jakan decided to go off on their own to have a date night. Cerin, Maggie, Azazel and I went together to the harbor with our food, choosing to have our dinner on the northern coast of Eteri while watching the stars come out from behind the ocean and its patrolling ship.
“I find it funny that the world is at such unrest,” I mused, holding a loaf of freshly baked bread in my hands, “and all we can do is sit here and eat.”
Maggie chuckled at that. “Aye. I know how ya feel. Lots going on and we can only tackle so much of it.”
I smiled at the engineer's use of the word we. Maggie had quickly accepted that she was one of us. Perhaps it was her dwarven blood that allowed her to quickly trust. I then thought of Hammerton, and what we would be doing there if we ever had the chance.
“Maggie, how will you feel if we ever invade Hammerton?” I asked her.
“Are ya asking because of my blood, love?”
“Mm...perhaps,” I admitted, looking over at the large woman with a smile.
“I have to be honest, I've never been one for bloodshed unless I'm on the defensive. This is all very new to me, no matter who we'll be fighting.”
I watched the Eteri patrol ship slowly turn in the ocean far to the left of us, smiling as I noticed a few of the soldiers on board dancing happily to the flute music of the ship's musician. I could only imagine how boring being on patrol could be.
“You were quick to join us,” Cerin commented, bringing my attention back to the conversation.
“Oh, yes. You all have been extremely welcoming to me, and I greatly appreciate it,” Maggie said. “I'm not saying I won't like being in battle. I've enjoyed fightin', for what it's worth. This is just all new to me. I don't know how I'm gonna feel when it comes time to invade Hammerton.”
“I find it interesting that your dialect changes from time to time,” Azazel spoke up beside me.
Maggie laughed. “Aye, it does that. That's what ya get when ya have two forms of speech thrown at ya all the time growin' up. I was raised by my dwarven mum but surrounded by proper Vhiri. The two dialects clash pretty hard, and I'm the fucked up result.”
I snorted a chuckle at her wording. “Well, at least you're a fun fucked up result.”
“Aye,” she replied, amused.
“I just want to remind you, Maggie, if you ever feel uncomfortable with us, you can leave,” I told her. “None of the Renegades are here by contract or force.”
Maggie shook her head. “Nah, love, I'm quite enjoying your company. I don't abandon my friends, whenever I'm lucky enough to get 'em. And Hammerton is no friend of mine. They didn't even let me get off the damn ship, remember? If you're goin' there, I'll be by your side.”
“And you'll be getting off the damn ship this time,” Cerin jested.
Maggie chuckled. “Aye!” The engineer peered over to the necromancer. “All these questions are being thrown my way, but we haven't yet talked about how you feel about the possible destruction of Glacia.”
Cerin was quiet as
he stared off over the ocean, the reflection of the stars glinting off his silver eyes as the skies darkened above us. “I'm not really sure, to be honest.”
I kept my eyes on him as I swallowed a chunk of bread, my heart aching by the sound of indecision in his rough voice.
“You said you've never been there, right?” Azazel questioned.
“Right,” Cerin replied. “But my mother was from there. She loved her home. Said nothing but great things about it.”
“The land or its people?” I asked.
“Mostly the land,” my lover replied. “Glacia is nothing but ice and snow. My mother told me that on sunny days, everything was white and blue and glistened beautifully. They carve their architecture out of the ice there. It's hard to imagine now since such a place does not exist elsewhere. It's frigidly cold there, of course, but my mother said that animals live there that provide furs for their clothing, and that being inside buildings made of ice isn't as cold as it sounds since it cuts down on the wind chill. And, of course, the Icilic are made for the cold. They're comfortable there. Even here, in northern Eteri, it might be a little warm for them.”
“Now, you are a half-breed, right?” Maggie asked Cerin. When he nodded, she went on, “How does that change things? Are ya able to stand both cold and heat, or does it lie somewhere in the middle for ya?”
“I can withstand cold better than heat, for sure,” Cerin replied. “I was with Kai in Whispermere, and the trek there was cold. It didn't bother me at all. The heat of Nahara bothered me more than it should have. But I doubt my tolerance for the cold is as good as it would have been if I were full Icilic.”
“That makes sense,” Maggie nodded.
“If we go to Glacia, they will be after you,” I told Cerin.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his silver eyes in the distance, as if he could see Glacia from here. “They'll know I'm a half-breed. I'll be with you, after all, and you saw how pale Cicero was. That's what my mother looked like. So pale her skin was nearly clear. I'm dark-complected compared to them.”
“The spell Hades gave to me...” I murmured. “You'll need it.”
Cerin glanced over. “What was it?”
“An area-of-effect leeching spell. Like my elemental bombs, only with death magic.”
“Seriously?” Cerin jerked his head back, surprised. “Hell, I didn't know such a thing existed.”
“We need to tread carefully with it,” I warned him. “I tested it out in the field a few days ago. Depending on how much energy you funnel into it, its hit area grows larger. If we are fighting amongst our friends, we risk killing them.”
“It will be most useful when surrounded,” Cerin commented.
“Right.”
“I have to wonder how quickly I'll be able to obtain a high when using it,” he said, a moment later.
“Within one or two casts, probably,” I mused. “Depending on how many are affected. The energy leeches from all life in its vicinity, Cerin, which means it will weaken you as well before you absorb the energy back.”
“How can I wield it without killing myself, then?” He questioned.
“The spell sucks the energy out of everything and implodes it back into you. The farther away from the victim, the longer the energy takes to find its way to you. Since you'll be at the center of the spell, it leeches the energy while returning it back to you in a quick cycle. Even still, you'll be weakened temporarily, unless you're already full of energy.” I shrugged. “Of course, now that we know wielding necromancy strengthens you more and more over time, you might be even harder to weaken through leeching whether or not you have a high.”
“Working on making yourselves invincible, are ya?” Maggie commented with a chuckle.
“That wasn't the intent,” I replied. “Just the consequence.”
“It's a nice consequence,” Azazel pointed out.
“Yeah...” I murmured, my eyes on the twinkling stars in the sky. “Maybe.”
I felt Cerin's eyes upon me a moment later as he took note of my hesitance. “You were hesitant years ago about leeching, but I thought you'd done away with your qualms.”
“I did,” I replied. “New issues have popped up with it. You know this, Cerin.”
“The only thing I know at all is that we disagree on what constitutes an issue. If you have started doubting death magic, Kai, you have started doubting me.”
Pain sliced through my gut at those words. They weren't confrontational. Cerin hadn't been rude or blunt to me since I'd first seen him again years ago near the Seran Forest. Even still, I had woken him up with these worries in Tal, and he was realizing now that talking together about it at the time hadn't calmed my concerns.
Azazel twitched awkwardly beside me, reminding me that two of our friends were here to listen to our disagreements. I finally said, “I do not doubt you, Cerin.”
“You realize that your hesitation frightens me,” the necromancer replied. “Everything we've accomplished so far in this war has been for necromancy. If you change your mind, you risk becoming like Sirius.”
I jerked my head to the side, appalled. “I am nothing like Sirius. Don't you dare compare me to Bjorn's murderer.”
“I didn't mean...” Cerin huffed in frustration. “You aren't Sirius. You're nothing like him. I'm only stating my concerns, much like you are.”
“I'm allowed to have concerns,” I retorted.
“Yes, and so am I.” A long exhale blew through his nostrils as his silver eyes followed the patrol ship. “I will be a necromancer until the day I die because I believe in the merits of death magic. Please understand that your sudden objections to it scare me. You are the most important person in the world to me, Kai, but I know how important your ideals are to you. You have parted from people you have loved because of them before.”
I thought back to when Silas left us years ago. It was different, then. Silas and I had our differences, but he had been the one to make the decision to leave. I loved Silas at one time, but the extent of my feelings for Cerin broke every boundary I'd once thought existed with love. The last person in the world I wanted to be arguing with was him.
“My ideals are important to me. But you are the man I love, and that will last regardless of how I feel about necromancy. I am a strategist, Cerin. I think about the benefits and detriments of everything. I expressed questions and concerns to you a while ago, and you have seen me continue to use death magic. I will not cease its use or stop campaigning for its legalization. It is too useful. To not use it while continuing this war would be to put me and you and all our friends at risk. We are heavily outnumbered in this war; necromancy is the only way we have a chance of taking over Chairel. Without it, taking Quellden would have been impossible. Most of our living soldiers were casualties by the time we even reached the royal district. If it weren't for necromancy, this war would be beyond us. We wouldn't stand a chance.”
“...yes, but you knew all of that already,” Cerin pointed out.
“I've simply found out since then that necromancy isn't a perfect magic, that's all. It is as powerful as it is for a reason. We need it for this war, but we will also need to ensure that once we take Chairel, it does not get out of hand. Because if it does, the people will hold us accountable. The same insurrection that caused the underground to fall will happen to us, and it will crumble everything we worked so hard for.”
“Then we will plan on preventing that before it can happen,” Cerin murmured.
I nodded. “Yes. That's all I'm trying to do. I promise you.”
“Okay.” The word was carried alongside an exhale of relief. The next thing I knew, Cerin was leaning against me, his smooth face against my shoulder. “The last thing I want to do is lose you, Kai. To disagreements or otherwise.”
“You won't lose me,” I replied, softly. “The last time you did, I started this war for you.”
The necromancer chuckled, and so did Maggie. Cerin knew he was only part of the reason this war was waged, but the sentiment w
as the same. There was nothing that could convince me to act more than the loss of those I loved.
Seventeen
The Pedr Crags built up from the ground on the other side of a river flowing inland as we approached from the north. The plains surrounding Esen became patchy with dirt and collages of rock before the grass stopped growing altogether once the land started its incline. There was a trail leading upward here, but it was barely a few feet across and spotted with rocks and debris. Our army was forced to move into the path two at a time, and as the climb continued, sometimes we had to walk single file.
Even though we were used to walking, our legs burned with the efforts of conquering steady inclines and uneven footing. The rest of our muscles soon joined them in protest, because we were forced to sleep on the path itself, and our bedrolls could not mask the lumpy ground beneath.
Two days and nights after leaving Esen, we were only halfway up the height of the crags. The path had mostly stayed on the outside edges of the cliffs, so we had the sprawling ocean keeping us company to our right, though the higher we traveled, the more intimidating that was. For the first time in these cliffs, the path ahead appeared like it was angling inward, offering to take us between the rising rock.
The order we traveled in had not changed much since we'd been forced to whittle down our army. Cyrus, Uriel, and I all followed directly behind Azazel, who was first in line. Though I also knew alteration magic and had taught many of the soldiers with us the spells that would allow us to seek life in this harsh land, none of our senses could compare with his. In addition, the archer's many years spent in a hunting party gave him the knowledge of tracking someone that only Theron had before him. Azazel had already informed us that this path was often traveled, and I had no idea how he could have known that. It all looked like rocks and dirt to me.
Thus, when Azazel came to a stop in late morning just before the path curled around one segment of the cliffs, we quieted and piled up behind him. From around Cyrus and Uriel, I watched the archer lift up a palm, seeking life through alteration magic. As he moved his hand to the left, a tiny sliver of red energy finally appeared above his palm. It was in a vaguely humanoid shape, and by all accounts, showed that someone was waiting for us past the turn of the path.