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Blood of the Sorcerer

Page 11

by B. C. Morin


  Evyette’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “How did you know?”

  “How long?” She repeated, looking down her nose at Evyette.

  “A couple of months or so.”

  “She could not hold them off any longer.” She whispered to herself.“What have you learned, Evyette of Caelestis?”

  Evyette looked at Tristan and then back at Rhoslyn who was taking a seat on the small bed

  Evyette swallowed hard.

  “I have found my home.” She paused. “Or rather what is left of it. There were spells there.” She kept her gaze on Rhoslyn hoping she would offer further information, but she remained silent. “I picked up an object that was there and instantly I experienced flashes of memories. Memories of my mother and of someone else, who’s face I could not see.”

  Rhoslyn smiled. “It did work.”

  “What worked?” She sighed, exasperated at the vague answers and statements. “What do you know about me?” She knelt on the ground beside Rhoslyn. “I need to know Rhoslyn, please. Did you know my mother? Did you know-“ Evyette stopped considering a possibility. “Are you the woman I could not see?”

  Rhoslyn smiled and held out her hand. Evyette glanced at Tristan then put her hand into Rhoslyn’s, while Rhoslyn put her other hand atop of Evyette’s. Her skin was soft and cold, yet radiated a certain energy. Her eyes glistened with tears once more.

  “It has been a long time since I held your hand like this.”

  Evyette rose from the floor and sat on the bed next to the old fae.

  “You are the spitting image of your mother, you know.”

  Tears Evyette did not know were waiting tumbled down her cheek.

  “She was beautiful. Olivia.” She looked down at the floor, shuffling her feet. “The other woman you saw was my sister. Well,” she paused looking back at Evyette and shrugging her shoulders. “My half-sister. We shared the same mother.”

  “Rhoslyn, what happened to my mother? Why did she die? Why did she tell me that it was best?”

  “Evyette, when a child is born with a Mark on their soul the Venator Animus come within weeks of the child’s birth to take him or her. When they came for you, your mother did all she could to keep them from taking you. She would never leave your side, and if she could not be with you, my sister was with you. They were both very skilled fae and were able to fight them. But the attacks began to increase in numbers. Depleting your mother and my sister. Your mother did the only thing she could do. She agreed to take your place. The problem with that, is they cherish a child’s soul above all else because they are so rare. Your mother’s soul and the years it carried did not mean as much to them. So they agreed that it would only partially satisfy the claim, that eventually, they would return for you. My sister wanted to offer her soul instead but they laughed at her, being that she was older than your mother. Your mother begged my sister to use that time to do what she could to protect you. Once my sister agreed, your mother gave herself to them.” The tears in Rhoslyn’s eyes spilled over. “My sister was shattered. She had known your mother since she was a baby. She loved her as her own daughter. You were all she had left.” She took her soft wrinkled hand and pressed it against Evyette’s face.

  “If she loved me so much then why leave me in Meira? Why not raise me herself?”

  “Because it would have been a danger having you so near to her. You see, knowing that together, our skills in spell casting were unmatched, she ran here and told me what happened. We cast a deflection spell on you. Every time the Venator Animus would come to you, they would find my sister and then have to fight her instead. The risk is great with a spell like that. It takes decades off of the faerie doing the fighting and ages them at a speed that is unnatural.” Rhoslyn ran her fingers over the Mark on Evyette’s wrist. “If she gave you this, it is because she can no longer fight them off for you, and that she believes that you are ready to fight them on your own.”

  “How? Will not the same thing happen to me?”

  “If you tried to fight them off, then yes. However, in our years of research we discovered that if one from the lineage that cursed you is sacrificed in your place, the Mark can be satisfied.”

  Evyette stood, pacing the tiny room. Stopping only once to look at Tristan as he nodded encouragingly.

  “Well, it could not have been my mother’s family that cursed me or her death would have sufficed.”

  “Correct.”

  “Then it is obviously my father’s. But I do not know him.” She stopped in the middle of the room folding her arms across her chest. “Rhoslyn, do you know who my father is?”

  “I do not. My sister did not want to tell me. She felt that the less I knew the better.”

  “Then tell me how I can find your sister.”

  “You said it yourself. She is at the Magi Kingdom. Provided she has not left.”

  Evyette opened her eyes wide at the realization.

  “Dara.” Tristan said aloud.

  “Yes, Dara.” Rhoslyn said, finally rising from the bed.

  The knock on the door rumbled even the hinges.

  “Evyette?” Ithor yelled into the thick wood. “Tristan?”

  “I must go, I will try to find my sister, but I cannot promise you anything.”

  “Rhoslyn, no! I still have so many questions.”

  Rhoslyn smiled, and tilting her head back, she sprouted her wings and disappeared into a plume of purple and black smoke.

  Tristan opened the door just in time for the sun’s rays to penetrate through the smoke causing it to shimmer in the air before dissipating completely.

  “Tristan!” Ithor stood at the door, his leather vest covered in blood.

  “Ithor! What has happened?”

  Ithor looked down following Tristan’s gaze. “This blood is not mine, sir. It is Kaleb’s.” Ithor said morosely.

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  Chapter 10

  Brennus had collapsed into a seat, at the far end of the room. Accolon was sitting beside him, talking lowly to him as he shook his head no, and clearly letting his council member know that he was not moving. In the center of the room, Kaleb lay on the bed. Dried blood hardened in his trousers, as well as his hair from the gash on his head.

  Tristan and Evyette burst through the doors, each running to opposite sides of the bed and sitting next to Kaleb, while checking over his injuries.

  “He is resting, now.” Magister Morcant said as he emerged from the washroom drying his hands. His face, grief-stricken.

  “If not for Brennus, he would have died.” Morcant paused standing at the edge of the bed looking down at Kaleb. “He performed the same energy transferring spell that he used on you when you were nearly killed. However this time, Kaleb was so close to death, and they were so far from here, where I could not help him, that it had to be done twice. As you can see,” He motions towards Brennus in the chair. “It took more out of Brennus than you could imagine. He should actually be resting but refused to leave until he knew that Kaleb would survive.”

  “Why couldn’t Magister Torin help him while they were at the mountains?” Tristan asked, although as soon as he did, he realized what the answer was.

  Magister Morcant lowered his head so that not even his chin was visible beneath the hood.

  “Magister Torin has returned to the earth.”

  There was a silence in the room, the air palpable with sadness, anxiety, and grief.

  Evyette stood, and to most everyone’s shock, walked over and hugged Magister Morcant. He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her.

  “I am sorry for your loss, Magister. He was a great fae and will be missed immensely.”

  Morcant released Evyette and for a brief moment, she saw a trace of a smile. “Thank you. I will give you some time with Kaleb, but I would like to know what you found today in the store.”

  “Yes, Magister.” Evyette turned to face Kaleb, the rise and fall of his chest a comfort to watch.

  “Bre
nnus,” Evyette began as she walked towards him. He sat now with his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. When he looked up at her, she saw the lack of color in his usually vibrant tanned skin. His Marks were dulled in color.

  He went to stand as she approached, Accolon and Halwyn reaching to help him, or stop him, if able.

  “Do not stand!” She walked over and put her hands on his shoulders pushing him gently back onto the seat. “Brennus, you should be resting. Why do you not take my room? Tristan and I will remain here with Kaleb.”

  Brennus tilted his head back, finally meeting her eyes. His gaze was hollow and lacking in his usual vigor.

  “Accolon has already acquired a room. I just wanted to be sure Kaleb would be alright.”

  Evyette looked momentarily at Tristan, who was sitting on the bed next to Kaleb, a grim expression on his face.

  “Why?” She whispered, low enough so only Brennus and his council members could hear.

  “Because despite our differences, you and Alannah care for him. And he cares for you both. Perhaps, this will provide Alannah with another chance.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands before him.

  Evyette squatted in front of him, her eyebrows scrunched close in question. “Brennus, excuse me if I am out of line, but do you mean to tell me that you will not overturn your father’s request?”

  Brennus signaled for Accolon and Halwyn to leave.

  Once they were out of earshot, Evyette continued.

  “I have seen how you look at her, Brennus. How she looks at you. You love her.”

  Brennus looked Evyette in the eyes, without so much as blinking, and she saw a flash of the liveliness, which he currently lacked, at the mere mention of his emotions for her.

  “I do love her. It is because I love her that I could not let Kaleb die.” He stood, towering over Evyette. He put his hand on her shoulder gently. “Perhaps he can provide her with what I cannot. Despite the pain it would bring me to watch it.”

  Evyette nodded in response and a small smile crept across his face. As he walked out of the room stopping only once, when Tristan called to him and thanked him for saving his best friend.

  Evyette walked around the side of the bed where Tristan had sat and wrapped her arms around him so that his head lay on her breasts. She tangled her fingers in his hair and she could hear that his breathing was staggered, though he did not cry.

  “We will stay here tonight, my love. We will watch over him and ensure his recovery.” Tristan said nothing but only nodded his head. “I am going to speak to Magister Morcant about our conversation with Rhoslyn.”

  As she closed the door gently behind her, Evyette saw Accolon standing by her door.

  “Your Highness,” he said as he bowed. “King Brennus has asked me to bring you a message.”

  Evyette made her way to him, watching as his smooth hair shone in the candlelight of the hallway, making her wonder if most of the warrior fae had hair so dark.

  “Yes, Accolon.”

  Accolon smiled at the realization that Evyette had remembered his name.

  “King Brennus would like if you did not relay any of the information of what has happened today to your sister. He is afraid that it will put her under much undue stress and intervene with her training. He would prefer to tell her upon his arrival with Prince Kaleb.”

  “With Prince Kaleb?”

  “Yes, seeing as how Caelestis is unequipped to properly heal him, the King thought it would be in the Prince’s best interest to go home with us where he can be cared for and visit with your sister while he heals.”

  Evyette pursed her lips together. “I see.”

  Accolon tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders just enough to let her know that she was not the only one surprised by this turn of events.

  “Thank you, Accolon. Please advise Brennus that I appreciate his concern for my sister and agree that undue stress is not what she needs. I will say nothing.”

  Accolon inclined his head to her and walked down the hall to where she assumed Brennus’s room was. Evyette continued to Magister Morcant’s room to tell him about their conversation with Rhoslyn.

  “Evyette, I can communicate to the Kingdom and ask them to detain her if they find her.” Magister Morcant was intrigued by the story and Dara’s part in all of it.

  “No. I am afraid that something like that may frighten her. Rhoslyn said she would try to find her and I believe her.”

  “But why not tell you the truth, why not come to you when you were in the Magi Kingdom and tell you everything?”

  “To be honest, Magister, I thought the same thing, while Rhoslyn was telling me the story, and all I could think of was perhaps she did not think that I would believe her.” Evyette stood and began pacing the room, stopping for a moment as she realized that it was third time today she had done that. She’d just discovered she had a nervous habit. She giggled to herself. “Think about it. Would you have believed her?”

  “Perhaps not.”

  Ithor and Logres nodded in silent agreement, from their perch by the door.

  “But she trusted me enough to be strong and fight them. Which must account for something.”

  “Then what do propose we do, Evyette?”

  “We stay for now until Kaleb is able to travel. Brennus has offered to take Kaleb to Anrad so that he may recover there and visit with my sister. When they take their leave, we will do so, as well, and head back to the Magi Kingdom.”

  “How will Rhoslyn know we have gone?”

  “I have a feeling she knows every move we have made and would not be amiss in guessing our location.”

  “I agree to your plan.” Morcant stood, putting an end to Evyette’s slow pacing.

  “I will advise Tristan of it.” Evyette said as she walked towards the door.

  * * * * * * *

  Maligo looked around the room, groggily trying to remember the events of the night before; the breaking of the mountain wall, the scroll, the fire, the teleportation from the cave to a remote area in the mountains and then having to find their way back to the castle where the trolls were. Better here than with the infernal Dorchae, he thought out loud. The amount of magic he had used that night had depleted him to near death, reeling him into almost a comatose state by the time they’d reached the castle.

  He swung his feet off of his bed, slid on his shoes, and headed towards the door. Upon opening it, he saw Samil walking past, giving orders to a couple of trolls.

  Samil turned towards Maligo, his sharp features much more visible, his white hair vibrant with life. Unless you looked carefully, you would not see his slight transparency. He was almost back to his fae self.

  “Ah, Maligo.” Samil walked toward him. “I was beginning to wonder if I should send someone to check on you. You were quite close to death last night, you know.”

  “So I was. But I see it was for good reason. The spell worked.”

  “For now. I will now have to find the third scroll and perform the sacrifice.”

  “Sacrifice?” Maligo straightened his posture.

  “Yes, I must sacrifice someone in order for me to obtain the energy I need to fully return. I will also inherit the powers of the fae that I have sacrificed.”

  “Do you have any particular fae in mind for the sacrifice, My Lord?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. But I will not bore you with those details now.” Samil began to walk and Maligo fell into step with him. “I have sent word to the Dorchae to begin to send their weapons here as they are completed. Also, I have instructed the trolls to capture any rogue faeries they encounter in the area so that we can persuade them to join our cause.” Samil’s eyes darkened. “This time there will be no failure. Their first loss will come with the sacrifice as I will take one very dear to those trying to stop us.”

  “Samil, how is it that you know of all that is going on up here, though until recently you had been banished and bound to hell.”

 
Samil snickered, his face twisting into an evil sneer.

  “The demons are free to come and go as they please, unless they, too, have been banished by an earth dweller. I simply have to ask and I am told all I want to know. How do you think I knew about you? I know all about you, Maligo. When your mother was dragged down to the depths in exchange for saving you and hiding your crest, I sought her out. I tortured her until she told me why she was there. She dared to tell me that I would never find you. That you would be safe and you would be nothing like me. But she was wrong. I saw when you fell in love with that fae who inevitably abandoned you as all fae do. And when you tried to overthrow the King in your quest for power and money.” He stepped closer to Maligo, his breath reeking of sulfur. “My demon spies told me many things. In fact, I would venture to say that I know more about you than you do.”

  Maligo scowled as Samil turned and walked ahead of him. It was obvious that Samil had plans of his own, and so long as it involved torturing or killing the fae that stole his powers, it did not bother him. What bothered him was that Samil was keeping secrets. Secrets he obviously had no intention of sharing with him.

  The mountain air filled his lungs as Maligo swung open the doors of the castle, throwing them so hard the hinges threatened to break. He searched the skies for the ever-familiar Saros, and did not wait long. Within moment, the large bird was circling overhead, casting a shadow three times the size of most of the birds in the mountains and therefore scaring away the small animals that were in the vicinity.

  Saros landed in front of his master, blood still wet on his beak.

  “I see you ate well, my pet.”

  Saros inclined his head toward Maligo.

  Maligo walked further away from the castle to ensure that he would not be heard.

  “I have been so busy assisting Samil, I have not yet had time to send you on a mission for me.”

  Saros stretched out his black velvety wings, flapping them a couple of times before bringing them back in.

 

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