Dusk Gate (Soul Bound Book 1)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Indeed. However, given what you’re saying… do you know who she was?” Quentin asked, gesturing her over to a chair. “The demoness, I mean.”

  The chair was large, with over-stuffed leather cushions and a table in front of it, opposite another chair that was similarly comfortable, with both of them resting on a single large rug. The rest of the room was elaborately furnished as well, with several tapestries dedicated to their goddess on the walls, depicting everything from angels fighting demons to the immaterial appearance of the Phoenix Queen herself, while gold and silver artifacts dotted shelves and tables in the corners. Jasmine was just relieved that Quentin wasn’t trying to interview her from behind his large, imposing desk. That would have made her far more nervous.

  “No. I know that I was taken to the Domain of Ashen Hopes, since we were told that it was the palace of the Flayer of Souls,” Jasmine said, deliberately shying away from naming the demon lord personally. Names had power, and she didn’t need more of his attention when she wasn’t sure what had been done to her. Settling into the chair, Jasmine suppressed a gasp at how cool the leather felt against her inflamed skin. “Beyond that… I never heard any names while I was there.”

  “Unsurprising, I suppose,” Quentin said, grimacing as he shook his head and settled back himself. “I’d offer tea, but I know you just ate. As for the demoness… she was Morselle the Everdark. I doubt that she was left dead, no matter how much we may wish she was, but you’re fortunate to have escaped her clutches.”

  Jasmine flinched, her stomach churning so abruptly that she almost regretted having eaten. She’d heard of Morselle, as the demoness was spoken of with trepidation in many texts. Morselle was said to have turned a great many clergy, paladins, and even angels into horrific mockeries of themselves, so the idea that she’d been in her hands… A shudder ran through Jasmine, one that was accompanied by feelings she firmly denied. Even if Morselle wasn’t as powerful as many famous demons, she was a terrifying foe, and Jasmine could hardly believe that the church had sent Adrian, Naomi, and Vanreth to face her. Like Xandra had said, that was essentially suicide.

  “I… didn’t know that. If she’d said who she was, I might have despaired immediately,” Jasmine said unsteadily, and she forced her hands to relax as she felt her nails dig into the armrests. “Why did you send Vanreth and the others after me? The chances of them succeeding were poor at best. I’d think that you wouldn’t have risked them, under those circumstances. Not that I’m ungrateful! I just…”

  “Calmly, dear. As much as it pains me to admit it, we simply didn’t know where you’d been taken. If we had, we likely would have had to wait to gather a more powerful group, and then it would have been too late,” Quentin said, shaking his head sorrowfully. “As it is, I regret how much danger I put them in. You were warded so heavily that we couldn’t identify where you were, we could only open a portal to the plane you were on and hope they could find you. From what they said, they almost failed.”

  “That’s right. She almost killed Vanreth outright, Adrian was dead, and Naomi was petrified. If it hadn’t been for Xandra, that would have been how it ended,” Jasmine said, shivering. “I would have been another of her… her toys.”

  “Ah, Xandra. Now that was a surprise, if ever there was one. I thought she was little more than history,” Quentin said, and the look on his face startled Jasmine. She wasn’t sure if it was fear, anger, worry, or even all three.

  “You know who she is? She didn’t remember, and while I thought her name was familiar, I couldn’t place it,” Jasmine asked, sitting up straight.

  “Didn’t remember? I doubt that,” Quentin said, laughing shortly as he shook his head. “No, maybe she’s telling the truth… but I doubt it. I know you’ve heard of her, though. The Reaper of Four Armies. I identified her by the description of the fire she threw at the demon.”

  Jasmine’s thoughts came to a sudden halt, feeling like she’d run into a wall or something similarly solid. She remembered the lessons about Xandra the Reaper, even if part of her was boggled by the possibility that they could be the same person. It wasn’t like the history books had been detailed, and the lessons about Xandra had been rather short. However, the chilling records of how the elven sorceress had claimed a mountain valley with rare adamantine deposits and killed four armies sent to reclaim the territory had made an impression. Then the sorceress had vanished, and the two nations who’d claimed the territory, and lost four armies to her, had fought a bloody war before finding that all the adamantine was gone, leaving Xandra a reviled figure in both of their history books. The problem was that it had been nearly eleven hundred years earlier, which was part of why Jasmine had a hard time believing it was the Xandra she knew.

  “Xandra? But… but I don’t even remember what she was supposed to look like! That was…” Jasmine began, then paused, waving her hands futilely, then gave up, throwing them up in the air as she protested, “I know you’re certain, Your Excellency, but she’s been helpful!”

  “Yes, but it was in her own self-interest to do so. And with how much you were changed in less than a day, a millennium is plenty of time for Xandra’s appearance to change completely,” Quentin said, shrugging uncomfortably. “Though I’ll admit that it’s also possible so much time in Morselle’s hands changed her. We’re going to have to watch her closely, though. She was a remarkable sorceress, and I have no idea how we would fare against her. Our records aren’t that detailed.”

  “If you say so, Your Excellency. You’d know better than I do,” Jasmine conceded, her mind practically rebelling at the idea… but then she thought about how Xandra had crushed the large demon with a single spell, and she was forced to admit that Quentin might have a point. “What about Alora? I’ve never seen someone quite like her before.”

  “You wouldn’t have. She’s from one of the tribes of southern Algaria, among groups that have been at war with different demon summoners for centuries, if not longer. They’re mostly from the inland regions, and rarely leave,” Quentin said, his expression turning faintly wistful as he poured a cup of water for himself. “They’re said to have some method of making their champions immune to the vast majority of demonic magics that corrupt the mind or body. I do wish that we could learn to do so, but they guard their arts jealously. I’ve already promised her to help undo as much of the damage to her body as we’re able, while seeking out a trustworthy captain that’s headed in her homeland’s direction. I doubt that will take more than a few weeks.”

  Jasmine nodded, relaxing at the explanation, as it also explained to her why Alora had distrusted Xandra so much. Considering that, Jasmine smiled slightly. “That’s good to know… especially that she can go home. And it tells me why she disliked Xandra so much. If they’ve been in conflict with demon summoners, of course she’d dislike her. I’m mostly surprised she speaks our language.”

  Quentin chuckled and nodded. “Yes, well, she is one of their champions. I believe they also are in charge of dealings with those from outside their region, so she learned to speak to foreigners. Useful, in this instance.”

  “Agreed,” Jasmine said, pausing for several seconds, weariness and worry washing over her as she asked, “I assume that, since you haven’t mentioned my guards or attendants, that none of them…?”

  “Sir Brall managed to get to a traveler who brought us word, but he died not long after. The rest… a quarter of them were taken captive, but were killed in blood rites before we could reach the cultists. I’m sorry,” Quentin said sadly, his smile fading. Jasmine closed her eyes, thinking about the men and women regretfully, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t try to stop them from escaping, and they slowly began to spill down her cheeks. Jasmine hadn’t known any of the attendants for long, nor the guards, but even so, she hated that she’d been the reason they had died.

  “I got them killed,” Jasmine said softly, shaking her head.

  “Don’t give me that,” Quentin said, his voice sharp enough to
force her eyes open, revealing that he was glaring at her. “You had the misfortune of being the cultists’ target, yes, but there’s nothing you could have done to stop what happened. We haven’t had an attack on a holy maiden in decades, and there was no sign that it was coming this time, either. If I’d had so much as a clue, I’d have sent someone like Vanreth with you, but I didn’t. You didn’t get them killed, the cultists did.”

  Jasmine paused, then cracked a slight smile as she bowed her head to him. “If you say so, Your Excellency. I just feel like I’m responsible.”

  “On that, I can’t blame you. I just want you to try to tell yourself what the truth is. You aren’t responsible, and that’s the end of it,” Quentin said firmly.

  “As you wish,” Jasmine said, nodding slowly. “Either way… what now? I assume I’m going to be stuck in the temple for a while.”

  “The temple or the city, certainly. The curse-breakers need time to work, and we need to make sure we’ve hunted down all the cultists. The other holy maidens can deal with most of the blessings, and we’ve improved their security, so they should be safe. Your main task is going to be to rest and recover. Once you’re back to normal, or at least mostly normal, we’ll see what to do with you,” Quentin said, shrugging. “If anything, I might suggest practicing a few more defensive spells. I suspect you got overwhelmed before you had a chance to cast anything.”

  Jasmine winced and nodded reluctantly as she spoke. “You aren’t wrong about that.”

  Surprisingly, his laughter improved Jasmine’s mood quite a bit.

  Chapter 7

  Xandra was tense, as she always was when her life was in the hands of someone else. The drop of sweat that hit the collar didn’t help her nerves, either, but she kept her mouth shut and didn’t move. She even kept her breathing slow and easy to keep movement to a minimum, since she’d really rather not die.

  Master Kelton was the most skilled artificer in Lothdar, which was why Xandra had agreed to his rather ridiculous fee, but now she wondered if perhaps she should have gone to find an artificer with more practice, as nervous as the man was. He’d assured her that he could remove the collar without killing her, and while his mastery of mana wasn’t quite as refined as Xandra would have liked, she’d believed him. Now, though…

  It was water under the bridge at this point. If she interrupted, he’d probably kill her by accident, so it was far too late for second thoughts. At least she’d ensured that he wouldn’t get paid if he got her killed… that would give her some satisfaction in death.

  Xandra’s thoughts drifted to her experiences over the past week in Lothdar in an effort to distract herself from the leather cushion her face was pressed into, as well as the heat from the braziers lighting the room. She shouldn’t have trusted anyone who didn’t light their building with glow crystals. They were easy to build, and didn’t risk setting things on fire… hells, even Xandra could fumble her way through making a glow crystal, though she’d waste a lot of materials in the process, and she was barely trained in artificing, from what little she could remember.

  In any case, Vanreth had ensured that everyone was in the temple, and had directed a group of acolytes to make Xandra comfortable before vanishing to give his report. Xandra might not be used to mortals, but she could tell that the acolytes and other guards had been given orders to keep an eye on her, which had made the situation still more unpleasant. She’d taken a certain amount of pleasure in discomforting the acolyte who’d shown her into the bath by disrobing in front of the woman, while making certain that the human had seen as much as possible. She’d since learned that the faith generally required acolytes and those of higher station to take vows of chastity, which explained the colors the woman’s face had turned. Eventually, Vanreth had returned and offered her lodging on the temple grounds. He hadn’t looked pleased when she declined, but neither had he objected.

  The man, who she’d since learned was a paladin of the Phoenix Queen, had arranged for a room at a rather nice inn instead, and they’d even paid for a few days lodging for her. Xandra appreciated that, even if the guards they’d left to keep an eye on her were so clumsy about remaining hidden that it was difficult to resist the urge to lecture them. Better to know where they were than to have them replaced by people who were competent. Less subtle had been how Adrian and Naomi had come to visit her each day. Adrian had the good grace to at least pretend he was there to see how she was doing. He seemed to like her, even, which Xandra found slightly endearing, in an incredibly foolish sort of way. Anyone who liked her had to have something wrong with them, and she wasn’t going to give him a chance. Naomi was mostly foolish, but Xandra had endeavored to rein in the sharp side of her tongue. It was quite difficult.

  Even so, the first few days hadn’t been easy for Xandra. No less than four jewelers had thought they could cheat her, and she wasn’t sure if they’d thought she was gullible, a deep-pocketed noble, or ignorant. She didn’t much care which, as they’d tried to buy the broken gems and the handful of whole ones she’d produced for a fraction of what they were worth. Xandra had not been amused. Eventually she’d found a jeweler who was more honest than his peers, and had commissioned several pieces of jewelry from him as an additional insult to the others.

  Once she was settled, and with enough gold to last several years at a minimum, Xandra had started searching for the other things she required. Finding a mage that could remove the tattoo had been simple, as there were several magi who could do so in the city. Far more difficult was her collar, though, as the first artificer Xandra had approached had taken one look at it before apologizing and rushing her out. Xandra appreciated that the woman was at least honest. A couple of outfits that suited her were also being made, but Xandra’s main concern was the collar. It was also why she might have rushed things faster than she should have. It wasn’t like Xandra was certain that she’d be allowed to leave Lothdar. Besides, she’d barely started relearning her magic, and she didn’t trust herself with anything beyond the most basic of combat spells.

  The delay as Master Kelton worked, mumbling spells under his breath, was agony. He was obviously pushing his skill to his limits, and she briefly wondered if her regeneration would reattach her head if her neck was severed. No, she was rather certain it wouldn’t, Xandra quickly decided. She’d die before that happened, and—

  Click.

  The sound was almost deafening, and Xandra couldn’t help a twitch of her eyes, especially as Master Kelton stopped breathing. Then she relaxed as for the first time in longer than she could remember, a cool breeze drifted across the back of her neck.

  “See, got it! Nothing to it, just like I promised,” Master Kelton said in his gruff voice, though she could hear the way his voice was trembling.

  “You would be more convincing if your voice weren’t shaking,” Xandra replied, shifting so she could sit up slowly, and her head almost fell forward without the support of the collar. It was strange, how much it felt like her head should wobble, and keeping it straight took effort. In front of her, the collar lay on the leather chair, cracked open like it was ready to swallow her whole. Xandra eyed it unhappily, then reached down and snapped it shut.

  “That’s quite rude of you,” Master Kelton huffed. “I’m the one who succeeded, and was it necessary to do that? It took some effort to open, and—”

  “It is going to be taken and destroyed,” Xandra said, her tone flat as her gaze rose to meet the man’s. “Our bargain was for you to be paid in gold, not for the collar to be left with you. Such items are unnecessary in a realm such as this.”

  The mage was normal enough for a resident of Lothdar, though he took pains to set himself apart. His primary effort involved his beard, which had two stripes of white that were obviously artificial running downward from his chin, and his brown hair was slicked back. He had bright blue eyes, a purple vest, and black pants, along with a great deal of gold jewelry. She thought he might sink from the weight of it if thrown in the ocean.

/>   “Yes, but studying it could make it easier to remove such devices in the future!” Master Kelton protested. That was a point, Xandra internally admitted, but she didn’t trust the man with the collar. Those with power were the most easily tempted, according to her Mistress. Except for zealots, which gave her another option, since he did have a point.

  “Perhaps so. Which is why I believe that I will give it to the temple. I’ll let them know what my opinion is, but they will ensure it doesn’t go missing, if they choose to study it,” Xandra said, and she saw the flicker of anger in the man’s gaze before he suppressed it. That satisfied her, since it indicated that her wariness wasn’t entirely misplaced.

  “Very well. Still, I carried out my part of the bargain, so I expect to be paid,” Master Kelton said, extending a hand, and Xandra smiled coldly at him.

  “Of course. Naomi is waiting, and I left the payment with her,” Xandra said, not letting her derision touch her voice, at least not this time. As his face darkened, she added, “The payment was to be given on the successful removal of the collar. If you failed, I wasn’t going to allow you to take it off my corpse.”

  Master Kelton sputtered, then growled indignantly, “I’m not a grave robber! The payment had best be with the girl!”

  That prompted a laugh from Xandra, and she gently picked up the collar, the movement created a faint, alien breeze across her neck. That was strange indeed, but she didn’t mind as she spoke. “It is. I chose her for a reason.”

  He huffed and stormed toward the door, obviously upset, but Xandra didn’t bother trying to placate him. She doubted she’d need his services again any time soon, and she’d rather find someone else anyway. Instead she followed him as he moved toward the waiting room.