“I couldn’t let him go through with it. I didn’t know what to do, until we stumbled across an innocent woman. Kristof wanted to kill her. I disagreed.”
“Huh,” grunted Devenish.
“He’s lying,” spat Thenna.
Devenish grimaced, then glanced at Caldan, who remained silent.
Caldan sensed Thenna open her well, and he linked to both his shield and Bells’s coercive sorcery craftings.
She glared at him. “Only someone guilty would shield themselves.”
“A precaution,” Caldan said calmly. “I’ll defend myself, if I have to. He attacked me first.”
Devenish met his eyes, giving him a considering look. The silence drew out. Neither of them broke it.
“Devenish,” began Thenna. “Let me—”
Devenish struck.
Caldan felt the power building an instant before it hit him. He braced his shield and almost staggered off balance when it was completely ignored. A sorcerous net covered his mind, enclosing and trying to capture it. Blasts of coercive sorcery hammered against his hastily thrown-up defense, which buckled under the strain. Caldan groaned, bolstering his mental shield.
A look of surprise filled Devenish’s face, quickly replaced by thoughtful determination. His onslaught strengthened, and another wave crashed into Caldan’s barrier.
Drawing as much power from his well as he dared, Caldan tried to reinforce the screen Quiss had taught him. It was hard to concentrate; there were so many strings to hold. And Devenish’s assault didn’t let up; it kept coming, pounding like a hundred hammers on anvils.
But it was, Caldan realized, brute force. There was no subtlety to Devenish’s attack. It was a far cry from the elegance he’d seen from Quiss and Adrienne when they dismantled the tangled remnants of the coercive sorcery inside Miranda’s mind. Devenish’s grasp of coercive sorcery was . . . crude. All Caldan had to do was withstand this attack, and they couldn’t control him. And that simply meant strength, something he was realizing he had.
His blood had.
Abruptly, Devenish’s assault ceased. This time, Caldan did stagger, so sudden was the withdrawal. Perspiration dripped from his face. His sorcery had held against Devenish. That had to worry the warlock, but also give him food for thought. He had to see that Caldan would be far more valuable alive than dead. One day, eventually, Devenish would see him suffer for this.
Or, at least, he would try.
Until then, let him sweat, thought Caldan. He could feel the presence of Quiss and his colleagues behind him on the ship. They’d gathered their power but had held back, waiting in case they needed to come to his aid.
He held on to his well and maintained his defenses in case another attack came. None did, though. Caldan looked up and saw Devenish frowning at him. Thenna was now standing by her leader’s side, mouth twisted into a sneer.
“Together we could—”
“No, Thenna. Caldan has shown he’s worthy enough to join our ranks.”
“He’s dangerous.”
“Exactly. Enough now. Leave us.”
“But—”
“I said leave us!”
Thenna fixed Caldan with a hate-filled look before leaving without a word. She stopped a few dozen paces from them, arms wrapped around herself, glaring.
“My mind is my own,” Caldan said. “So what now? I told you the truth.”
Devenish waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. You’re strong enough to hide whatever happened. Whatever your version of events, that’s now the truth.”
“Is that how it works?”
“That’s how it’s always worked. For everyone, not just sorcerers. Warlocks, Quivers, Protectors, the emperor . . . The truth is what you can get away with.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Devenish shrugged, then uttered a short laugh. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. The world works the way it does without your belief. Get used to it.” He pulled his shirt back over his head, tucking it into his pants. “The truth is, I had no idea what to do with you. Now my decision’s made for me.” Devenish gave Caldan a thin smile. “Join us. We’ll train you. You’ll control more power than you ever thought possible.”
“No,” Caldan said.
Devenish raised his eyebrows, then glanced at the ship behind Caldan, where Quiss was standing on deck.
“The emperor has need of your talents. By refusing me, you’re refusing him. If you find me hard, he is steel to my butter. Do you understand?”
Caldan nodded he did.
“Good. Then there’s nothing left to discuss—you’ll come with us.”
“No.”
Devenish looked back at Caldan, almost as bewildered as he was angry. Then he looked to Quiss one last time, and his face was pure rage now. “You’ll regret this,” he said.
“Maybe,” Caldan replied. “But I’m not so sure.”
He turned and walked up the gangplank, leaving Devenish staring at his back.
CHAPTER 22
Rebecci wanted to be there when the assassin makes his attempt on Kelhak’s life,” Izak said.
He couldn’t sit still. One minute he was by the fireplace, and the next close to Felice, wringing his hands and looking at her like she had all the answers. The truth was, she had none. As soon as they reached their apartment, Izak had poured himself another glass, but he had taken only a few sips. He held on to it tightly, as if it were a talisman.
Felice paused, considering her response. “I assume she wanted to capture Kelhak like she did Savine. But that doesn’t matter now. Savine’s been taken, and Rebecci is dead.”
“Would killing Kelhak actually just . . . kill him?”
“Or would he be able to find another body, you mean? I don’t know. There’s too much I don’t know. And unfortunately, the one person who probably could answer is now dead.”
“Some of her people may have escaped,” suggested Izak.
“Yes, but finding them in this city, when they’ve gone to ground, will be close to impossible. It looks like we’re on our own. Again.”
Izak gave her a smile—a weak one that he meant to be reassuring, except it was anything but. “Is Rebecci truly dead, then? Could she also have survived?”
“I don’t know,” Felice admitted with a sigh. “I have no idea, and it’s so frustrating. Can they even be killed? Sorcerers, that is. Or is capturing the best that can be done?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
There was a hardness in Izak’s voice that she’d never heard before. The invasion had rattled him. Now, though, Rebecci’s murder had changed him.
“Let’s get some sleep,” she said. “We’ve a few hours until our next meeting with the assassin.”
“Does he have a name, the assassin?”
Felice shook her head. “Not that I know of.” But she’d certainly like to find out.
CHAPTER 23
Behind them, the guard slammed the door shut with a clang that echoed around the jail.
Vasile wondered why Caitlyn had returned Aidan’s sword to him and could think of only two reasons. She was either sure Aidan had converted back to her cause and her leadership, or confident cel Rau could defeat Aidan. If he had to guess, he thought the second reason more likely.
Caitlyn and cel Rau escorted them along dank corridors that housed many more cells. Moans and whimpering came from some, and Vasile tried not to look inside. Cel Rau lent Caitlyn his arm and helped her ascend a flight of stairs, then they were outside.
Vasile blinked in the too-bright sunlight and sneezed. He wiped his nose and noticed his hand was both filthy and trembling.
They were free. Released from prison and spared death. But at what cost? For the both of them: enforced service to Caitlyn, or execution. At least they weren’t still rotting in their cell.
A four-horse carriage made of polished rosewood waited in a courtyard outside, with a squad of mounted Quivers as an escort. The soldiers saluted Caitlyn as she exited the pri
son, and one of them hurried over to assist her. She brushed the offer away and turned to Aidan.
“We’ve a stop to make first.” She looked at their soiled clothes and sniffed. “Well, I’m sure he’s seen worse.”
“Where are we going?” Aidan asked. “Vasile and I need a bath, a change of clothes, and a good meal or two.”
“All in good time,” Caitlyn replied. “For now, we have an appointment with the emperor.”
Vasile half gasped before he could stop himself. Let’s hope he doesn’t remember me.
“May he live forever,” muttered cel Rau.
Caitlyn turned an inquiring look on Vasile.
“That’s right,” she said. “A privilege not afforded to many. You’d do well to watch your tongue, and your manners. The emperor has heard all about your treachery, but apparently he was also told you’d done some good, fighting the jukari and vormag. It was he who convinced me to give you one last chance. And as always, the emperor’s wisdom is unsurpassed.”
Vasile nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Caitlyn wasn’t being entirely truthful—but without asking specific questions, he couldn’t be sure what was really going on. Not now, he decided. There will be time to dig out the truth.
Aidan cleared his throat. “And for that, we are thankful.”
“Don’t thank me,” Caitlyn said. “Thank the emperor in person. And watch yourselves. He could crush you with a thought.”
Despite her rejection of the offer of assistance, Caitlyn couldn’t manage the steps into the carriage. Her injuries restricted her movement, and after a few false starts, she irritably gestured for cel Rau to help her. When Vasile entered behind her, Caitlyn’s face was pale and drawn, as if such a small effort had drained her of energy.
The emperor’s entourage was no longer with the Quivers camped outside the city walls, having moved to more luxurious and secure surroundings inside Riversedge.
They followed a road for some time before ending up at what looked like a noble’s manor, commandeered for the emperor’s stay. They entered through manicured gardens surrounding the triple-story whitewashed mansion with terra-cotta roof tiles. River pebble paths split the grounds into sections, and far to their left the trimmed grass and plants degraded into a wilder landscape. As they walked, Vasile heard the roar of a wild cat, followed by the cry of a peacock. For the owners to have their own menagerie spoke of great wealth.
And now it was all the emperor’s.
Once inside, Caitlyn spoke to various functionaries, and her party was directed to the emperor’s audience chamber. The passageways Vasile and the others walked were cluttered with servants, Quivers, functionaries, nobles, and hangers-on. The air smelled of stale sweat and sour wine, along with dust and dirt. Carpets underfoot were stained with mud and bits of grass, courtesy of the bustle, which left no time or space for cleaning. Frescoes covered the walls, their paint cracked and dark with age. Torch sconces held sorcerous globes, each casting a cold light.
Caitlyn was muttering to herself, eyes glued to the doors. Cel Rau stood close by her side, but his eyes were always on Aidan and Vasile. Aidan fidgeted nervously, probably having never met the emperor before, and that Vasile could understand. The emperor was the source of a thousand rumors and legends.
In his heart, Vasile knew the tales might not be true. He’d met the emperor before, disturbing experiences he’d hoped would never happen again. But what troubled him, the reason he’d fled the capital, was much more sinister. Something he’d never told anyone, for fear it would be traced back to him, and he’d be killed.
When Vasile had been dragooned into helping the councillors root out a plot to kill many of them, they’d presented him to the emperor, ostensibly as part of his reward. A brief encounter, a few moments only. But the next day, Vasile had joined the crowd of onlookers that always congregated around the emperor’s audiences. And one of the warlocks had confronted the emperor, accusing him of kidnapping and killing a promising apprentice and somehow assimilating his well. The emperor denied it, and disturbingly, the warlock had suffered a heart attack on the spot, dying moments later.
But the emperor had been lying.
Vasile had fled back to Anasoma, counting himself lucky to leave the capital alive. He’d thanked the ancestors when he’d arrived back home in one piece.
He just needed to have the same fortune again.
His thoughts turned to cel Rau. Suddenly, the man he’d fought alongside was a stranger. They’d survived against the jukari together, and Aidan had known him for years and trusted him without reservation.
Vasile wagered Aidan would have reservations now.
“Well, well,” said someone from behind them.
Vasile turned and came face-to-face with Gazija. He struggled to keep his expression neutral. The old man was here? Now? This couldn’t be a coincidence. Vasile glanced at Aidan, who was staring at Gazija, hand resting on his sword.
Gazija walked slowly, as if every movement was excruciating. He tapped his two canes on the floor, and the noise caught Caitlyn’s attention.
“Sorcerer,” cel Rau said. “What are you doing here?” He moved to block Gazija’s view of Caitlyn and to give himself room to draw.
Vasile took a step backward.
“I’m here to see the emperor,” Gazija said. He waved a piece of paper with an official-looking seal. “I have an invitation. I presume you’re here to see him as well? Aidan? Vasile? You look the worse for wear.”
Caitlyn pushed past cel Rau, who looked none too pleased. “I’ve heard of you,” she said. “Don’t think your mercenaries aiding the emperor absolves you of your evil sorcery.”
Gazija frowned, though the corners of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Yes. I’m sure cel Rau has told you what he knows. And I’ve heard of you, Lady Caitlyn. A fearless, tireless crusader against evil. As you call it.”
“I know evil when I see it.”
“I daresay you do,” Gazija said dryly. He met Aidan’s gaze, then flicked his eyes toward Caitlyn. “I’d like a few words with Vasile,” he said softly, “in private.”
Aidan frowned, then his eyes widened as comprehension dawned. He schooled his expression, nodded minutely, then turned to cel Rau. “I need to speak with you,” he said. “And Caitlyn. I want to beg forgiveness.”
“Not now, Aidan,” said Caitlyn.
“Yes. Now.” Aidan grabbed Caitlyn’s elbow.
A hiss of breath escaped cel Rau’s lips, and Vasile realized his sword was half out of its sheath.
Aidan let go of Caitlyn and raised his hands in a nonthreatening gesture. He sidled away, down the hallway. “I don’t want them to hear my pleas. I’m . . . ashamed.”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed, but after a pause, she nodded. “All right. I don’t know how long we’ll be kept waiting, and I want to hear what you have to say.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Aidan said, gesturing for her to follow. Cel Rau kept close to them, as if expecting Aidan to wring her neck at any moment.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Gazija latched a bony hand onto Vasile’s arm, pulling him closer.
“Do not be alarmed,” Gazija said. “And please, we don’t have much time.”
“What’s going on?” Vasile said. He looked into Gazija’s rheumy eyes, all the while keeping an ear on the low murmurings coming from Aidan and Caitlyn.
“Ostensibly,” Gazija said, “I’m here to receive the emperor’s thanks for our mercenaries, which have proved useful in the battle against the jukari. But there’s more going on. You, Vasile, are key.”
Vasile shook his head. “Now’s as good a time as ever to explain yourself, Gazija. You pointed me at the emperor from the beginning, and now I’ll be put before him. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Very well,” Gazija said. “It is almost time. I need to know if I can trust the emperor. He will do what’s best for himself and the empire, this I believe. But what I have to know is, will he honor the agreement I strike with him her
e today? Vasile, you will know. There is more at stake than you realize. Not only is the world on a precipice, but my people have to survive this. I cannot ensure their safety if they are imprisoned, or worse, when this is over.”
Or worse . . .
Vasile glanced at Aidan, Caitlyn, and cel Rau. Aidan was gesturing with his hands—lying—while Caitlyn nodded in agreement and said words Vasile couldn’t hear—also lying.
“You must help me,” Gazija implored Vasile. “You must help us.”
“Why?” Vasile said. “You’ve lied to us from the beginning. Tell me the truth, and then I’ll decide whether to help you.”
“I have told you the truth.”
Vasile glared at Gazija, hoping the depth of his displeasure came across. “The whole truth.”
Gazija seemed to shrink, like a man too tired to continue. He nodded curtly. “We are sorcerers, this you know. And we are more skillful than the warlocks. They need us to combat the Indryallans, both with our sorcery and our mercenaries. This puts them in our debt. But we fear the emperor will not like the fact there are sorcerers more powerful than his warlocks. And if a person is dead, then you don’t need to pay them back.”
Truth. “You think the emperor will use you and your mercenaries, then dispose of you? That’s crazy! Everyone would know.”
“So?” hissed Gazija. “What would they care? They won’t speak out against the emperor. Everyone lives in fear of him, but why? Because they think he’s too powerful to take on. He has trod a dangerous path to obtain that power, but it isn’t enough to defeat Kelhak. And if he takes any more, it could put him over the edge.”
“Takes more what?” Vasile said, fearing he already knew the answer.
“More sorcerers.”
So he knows the emperor’s secret. Somehow he’s seen what I heard the emperor lie about all those years ago. But . . . how?
“What do you know about that?” Vasile said.
Gazija sniffed. “Everything, and nothing.”
“This is no time for games, old man.”
“What I know,” said Gazija, “is that we have a slight chance of defeating Kelhak, and then only if we’re lucky. But like any leader, I’m also looking beyond this event to what comes after.” His eyes bored into Vasile’s. “Can I trust the emperor? Will he let us go, once Kelhak and the Indryallans are defeated? Will he honor our bargain? These are the questions I need answers to. This is why Quiss brought you to me in the first place.”
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