“I knew them well enough to know they would have forgiven you. It was an accident. None of us know what the hell happened that day.”
Sephi gazed down at her feet. “We know the end result.”
“Yes,” Pasiphae said. “They’re gone. But you’re still here. You are their legacy, and they’ll never be truly gone as long as you’re making a difference in the world.”
“Some legacy,” Sephi said. “If they could see me now, I’m sure they’d be disappointed.”
“Yes, almost certainly,” her grandmother said.
Sephi shot her a look. “Gee, thanks.”
Pasiphae shrugged. “What? I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. I care about you too much to lie to you. And the truth is, I feel like I lost you that day, too.”
Her grandmother looked up at her with faded gray eyes, the color of a winter sky, and for a second, Sephi saw the doting grandmother she used to know. Pasiphae’s deeply lined face crinkled warmly as she regarded Sephi, and for the first time in a long time, she remembered what it was like to be loved.
A hollow space in her chest ached with despair at the life she used to know. The life that was forever lost.
A luminescent puffball rolled down the stairs, across the floor, and stopped at Pasiphae’s feet. The thing popped up to her eye level, and a mouth formed in the glowing fur.
“The Council is assembled,” it said and then exploded in a sparkling pink mist.
Sephi grinned. “I guess it’s been a while since I was here. The Messenger Floofs have gotten fancy.”
“You like that little explosion at the end?” her grandmother asked, her voice soft and almost endearing.
“Yeah, it makes even bad news easier to take.”
“Well, I’m the one who figured that out.”
“Nice.” Sephi smiled and paused. “All right, old woman. Shoot me straight. On a scale from ‘slap on the wrist’ to ‘the hangman’s noose,’ how much trouble am I in?”
“How do I put this delicately?” Pasiphae asked. “You’re neck deep in a vat of liquid troll shit. We’re about to find out if you can pull yourself out or if you’ll drown one gulp at a time.”
Persephone stood in the Council chamber at the heart of the Spire. The vaulted ceiling made her feel small, and the polished marble floor and walls made her feel like she stood in a tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t her own.
The representatives from each family stood in front of her behind a semi-circular lectern made of darkly polished Vitan wood. As the head of the Blue family, her grandmother sat on the far right. Next to her was Artriojas Green, a giant of a man with magical sigils threaded into his long black beard. He looked at Sephi curiously, as if she were a puzzle to be deciphered.
On the far left, Father Barnabas watched her with something like pity in his eyes. Despite being the head of the White Family, he wore the same simple white linen robes that all White Brothers and Sisters wore. Unlike the rest of the Families, which were actual families, the Whites had evolved into something of a monastic order, dedicated to helping people in need.
Beside him was Minerva Red, resplendent in her crimson armor. The heavy plate was polished to a bright shine, but the dents and nicks along its surface proved it wasn’t just ceremonial. Minerva was a hardened veteran of actual battle. A wicked scar traveled in a jagged line from just beneath her close-cropped blonde hair to her chin, twisting her mouth into a perpetual scowl. Sephi wished she had a badass scar like that, too.
In the center of the dais was the Violet Trinity, three members of the Violet Family in heavy purple robes and expressionless chrome masks. One of the three was the head of the Inquisitors, but because of the covert nature of their work, the identity of the Violets’ leader was a closely guarded secret known only by members of their family.
Pasiphae had once told Sephi that the Trinity linked themselves together telepathically. When they spoke, all three Violets spoke the same words in unison.
“Persephone Blue,” they said. “The Council has summoned you to answer for violating a cardinal rule of the Cradle. You have traveled into the forbidden lands of Tartarus on multiple occasions, which is punishable by the harshest measures at our disposal.”
Sephi felt the Trinity probing at the edges of her mind, looking for a way in to read her thoughts and memories. A wild part of her considered letting them in while thinking of something profane and insulting, just to see if she could rattle the implacable Inquisitors.
She quickly discarded the foolish notion. Violets couldn’t easily force their way in to another mage’s mind unless they were allowed entry, but once they were in, it was almost impossible to kick them out until they left on their own. Sephi wasn’t about to give them access just for a joke, no matter how tempted she was.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the Trinity asked, their dissonant voices overlapping in an unnerving way.
Sephi spread her hands. “Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
“Are you sorry?” the Trinity asked.
Sorry, I got caught, she thought. Out loud, she said, “Of course.”
Minerva shook her head. “Apologies mean nothing.”
Well, fuck you, too, Minerva. Sephi faced her hero and looked her in the eyes. “General, I understand that it’s forbidden to go into Tartarus, but I thought it was an old, outdated rule. People sneak into Tartarus all the time, and they’re not summoned before the Council.”
“We’re not here to discuss other people,” Minerva said. “This is about you, and you have shown a blatant disregard for the law for far too long. It has not gone unnoticed. And today, you finally face justice.”
“I’d like to know how you managed to survive multiple trips to Tartarus,” Father Barnabas said, his voice thick and rich. “Magic is unreliable in those blasted lands, and nothing friendly to us lives there.”
Sephi shrugged. “My magic works there just fine.”
Barnabas smiled. “So, it’s true what they say about you.”
“Excuse me?” Sephi asked. “Who has been talking about me, and what the hell are they saying?”
“People talk, child,” Pasiphae said.
Minerva nodded. “And the Council has eyes and ears everywhere. We know what you’ve been up to, stealing rare artifacts from Tartarus and selling them to criminal scum in the Undershadow. You put your own people at risk every time you go out there, and for what? A few gold coins in your pocket and a cheap thrill?”
“Stop lecturing the girl,” Artriojas interjected, the runes jingling in his beard as he shook his head. “Let’s just get on with it.”
Minerva’s jaw clenched. “Fine. Trinity, would you announce her punishment?”
The three concealed figures nodded simultaneously. “For your crimes, you are to be banished from the Cradle for the rest of your life.”
Her world tilted on its axis, and Sephi struggled to remain upright. Could they be serious? Mages lived a long time, aging five times slower than regular humans once they hit maturity. So, she was looking at around four hundred years of banishment.
And beyond the Cradle was a whole lot of nothing. A few scattered towns and villages dotted the landscape out there in the lands bordering the Cradle, but from what she’d heard, they were primitive shitholes where people barely scraped by. For something even resembling civilization, she would have to travel hundreds of miles east toward the Broken Seas.
She could have dealt with all of that, but she couldn’t allow herself to be forced out until she had finished her business with Bobby. He was her ticket to Etherean, and she was so close to realizing that dream. Even if she could find someone else out in the world who could get her to the heavenly Realm, she would have to start all over again to earn her way there.
“You can’t do this,” she said, shooting a hard look at her grandmother.
Pasiphae held up her palm, gesturing for Sephi to stop. “Now is not the time to lose your temper, child.”
“Really?” Sephi ask
ed. “This seems like the perfect time. I left the Citadel to get away from the Council’s bullshit, but you insisted on dragging me back up here. Well, fuck your Council and fuck your rules.”
“Just listen,” Pasiphae said.
“Oh, I’ve been listening,” Sephi shot back. “And I don’t want to hear anything else. I’ll be damned if I let you shriveled up nut sacs banish me without a fight.”
“Enough!” Minerva roared, slamming her hand on the lectern.
This was how Minerva must have sounded on the battlefields from Sephi’s childhood stories. The implacable authority in the woman’s voice forced Sephi’s mouth closed.
The Red General eyed Sephi like she was seeing the young Blue for the first time. “You’ve got some fire in you, but that sharp tongue is going to get you in trouble. Are you ready to listen?”
Sephi nodded, afraid that if she opened her mouth, it would run away from her again.
“Good,” Minerva said. “While the punishment for your crime is banishment, we would be willing to offer you a deal. Something that will clear your slate with the Council.”
Sephi’s eyes widened, and relief flooded through her. “Why didn’t you lead with that? I can work with a trade of some sort, and I promise, from here on out, I will abide by your rules. No more sneaking into Tartarus to steal things. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
Minerva smiled. “We want you to sneak into Tartarus and steal something.”
Chapter 6
Sephi was so stunned, a fairy fart could have knocked her over. “Come again?”
Minerva’s expression never changed. Apparently, she didn’t see the irony in the request. “We need you to track down a powerful ancient artifact, which we believe to be in Tartarus, and we want you to bring it back to us.”
Pasiphae nodded encouragingly at Sephi. “I convinced the rest of the Council to use your free-spirited nature to our advantage, rather than banish you.”
“It made sense to turn a negative into a positive,” Father Barnabas said. “A weakness into a strength.”
“You’re perfectly suited to this task,” Artriojas said. “You’ve been to Tartarus more than any other mage, your powers work there, and you’re skilled at retrieving difficult to get objects. You’re the right tool for this job.”
Sephi didn’t appreciate being called a tool, but the rest of his statement felt like a compliment. In fact, aside from the expressionless Trinity, everyone on the Council suddenly seemed less hostile. Sephi had gone from being the shit on their shoe to the belle of the ball.
Interesting.
She felt a modicum of relief that she had a chance to escape banishment, but something about the request set off alarm bells in her head. This was the second time in as many days that someone wanted to recruit her for a super secret mission. It was probably a coincidence, but it didn’t sit right with her.
She pulled her shoulders back and jutted her chin out proudly. “What artifact do you want me to find?”
Minerva placed her hands on the dais and leaned forward. “Have you ever heard of the Zekarian Whispers?”
What. The. Fuck.
Sephi tried not to show the surprise on her face, even though the world went out of focus and she forgot how to breathe. So much for coincidence. This had to be related to Bobby’s job offer, although there was no way the Council would use an agent like Bobby to secure Sephi’s help. This meant that someone else had hired Bobby, someone who was after the same thing as the Council.
The Zekarian fucking Whispers.
Just the day before, she laughed at the idea that the Whispers were real, but the fact that the Council also wanted her to retrieve them meant they were absolutely out there somewhere, waiting to be found.
A three-thousand-year-old legend had just been confirmed as real, and now, two separate groups wanted her to find it. Something big was going on, and somehow, Sephi had found herself in the middle of it. She had the sinking feeling she would get crushed between the Council and whatever powerful entity had hired Bobby.
Someone cleared their throat, bringing Sephi back to the present. “Yes,” she said quickly. “I’ve heard of the Whispers. You think they’re in Tartarus?”
“We know they’re in Tartarus,” the Trinity said. “And we know they’re in Zekariah’s lost tower. We just don’t know where the tower is located.”
Sephi narrowed her eyes. “You mean his palace, right? In the mountains?”
All three Violets shook their head in unison. “Not the palace. His tower, where he did his most secret research. We believe it was more like a magic laboratory. It was where he discovered how to leach power from the Elves, how to use blood magic, and a thousand other unspeakable crimes against the natural order.”
Sephi grimaced. “That sounds… unpleasant.”
Minerva nodded. “We’ve been searching for its location for years. The dark magic he created there must be kept hidden from the world. Just recently, we’ve come across a new lead. Something that might finally point us in the right direction.”
“Did you find something in a lost book or what?” Sephi said.
“Not quite,” Minerva said, looking a little squeamish.
The Trinity spoke up. “The Inquisitors discovered a spy in our midsts. A member of the Occultum pretending to be one of us. We apprehended the warlock, and we made him answer some questions.”
Minerva snorted. “More like you shattered his sanity with your magic and sifted through the broken pieces after.”
“You’ve made your objections clear,” the Trinity said. “What we do is for the good of the Cradle. To keep our society safe. And we discovered a dire threat to all of Esper.”
“From the Occultum?” Sephi asked.
“Yes,” the Trinity said. “They’re after the Whispers, and they know how to find them. If we don’t retrieve them before the blood mages, the Citadel, the Cradle, and every living thing will fall before the Occultum’s feet.”
Sephi’s heart hammered in her chest. “What the hell is in those Whispers?”
“The same thing that everyone wants,” Minerva said. “Power. After Zekariah was killed, those still loyal to him started the Occultum, and they’re still fighting a three-thousand-year-old war. They want the Cradle and everything in it, and the secret magic in the Zekarian Whispers is exactly what they need to turn the tide in their favor.”
Sephi nodded thoughtfully. Bobby’s mysterious new client had to be the Occultum, trying to enlist her help to retrieve the artifacts. Of course, this meant she absolutely couldn’t accept Bobby’s job. No matter how much she wanted to fund her trip to Etherean, she would never sell out her own people by helping the Occultum.
They fueled their magic with torture and blood, using the life force of living things instead of harnessing the living energy of the land. Their dark rituals corrupted them inside and out. There was no such thing as redemption for a blood mage. Sephi would rather die than let them get the Whispers.
“Okay,” Sephi said. “I’m on board. Where do I start looking? What did that mage tell you?”
“They discovered the identity of someone who knows how to find the tower,” Minerva said. “He’s located in the Valley of Lost Souls, near Viscayne.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Sephi said.
“We’ll tell you the way,” Minerva said.
Sephi frowned. “So what’s the catch? Why don’t you all send someone down there to talk to this guy in Viscayne?”
“Well, there is one problem,” Minerva said. “The man with the information has been dead for a thousand years.”
That was too much for Sephi. Her composure broke, and she threw back her head and laughed. Her laughter echoed against the austere marble walls, walls which had probably seen very little laughter in their hallowed existence.
“Now you’re just fucking with me, right?” she asked. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a thousand-year-old corpse? Only the Occultum knows how to reanim
ate the dead, and the mind doesn’t come back with it.”
“We know someone who can talk to the dead,” Father Barnabas said. “An old associate of mine. Find him, take him to Viscayne, and he’ll do the rest.”
“You’re making this sound easy,” Sephi said. “Somehow, I feel like you’re leaving something out.”
Barnabas bobbed his head from side to side. “Well, my associate might take some convincing.”
Sephi sighed. “Fine, whatever. How do I find this guy?”
“Magnus will show you the way,” Minerva said.
“Ugh,” Sephi said. “That asshole?”
Metallic footsteps of a heavily armored man clanked behind her. “Yes,” Magnus said as she turned around. “This asshole. I’ll be going with you to make sure you don’t screw everything up.”
Sephi looked at the assembled Council members. “So, is it too late to reconsider banishment?”
After discussing some of the finer details of the journey ahead, Sephi emerged from the Spire alone. Her steps led her through the garden of arcane plants surrounding the mages’ tower. It was smaller than the garden beneath the Vitan trees but equally as impressive. The cool night breeze kissed her skin, and she breathed it in deeply, grateful to be out of the stifling presence of the Council.
At dawn, she would meet Magnus at the road leading out of the Undershadow. From there, they would head out of the Southern Pass and west toward Duskwood to meet a man who could speak to the dead. After that, she just had to retrieve a legendary artifact containing the evilest magic ever devised.
Easy peasy.
Sephi snorted a laugh at her terrible luck. No matter how hard she tried to run away from the Council’s schemes, she found herself pulled back in. Why couldn’t the world just leave her alone?
Her pace slowed, and she lingered in the garden, allowing herself a moment of peace. Growing up, the garden had always been a sanctuary for her, an island of beauty in a world that could be deeply ugly.
The Lost Tower Page 5