“So,” Arivana, “you said you had come to help me. What, exactly, did you have in mind?”
“To be honest? I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Tassariel lowered her chin and stared at a spot a few paces ahead of her. “I came at the behest of my god. I’ve got a sort of direct channel to him, you might say.”
“Really? What’s that like?”
The valynkar twisted her lips before saying, “Eventful.”
Arivana laughed again. Tassariel even cracked a smile this time.
“Excuse me,” the queen said. “Do go on, please.”
“Yes, well, he sent me here with instructions to aid the person most in need of outside help, and to trust my intuition as to whom and what that might involve. Which led me to you.
“So, your majesty, I must ask: What is it that you need assistance with?”
“I’m . . . not sure. I mean, if I ever needed help from a valynkar, I could always go to your consulate—”
“Those are your minister’s words, not yours. If I may be so bold, you should spend less time worrying about how not to upset him. No relationship should be based on fear.”
Arivana cringed, folding in on herself, making her body small on the bench. Emptiness rumbled in her stomach. She nearly flinched when Flumere put an arm around her shoulder.
She turned to her handmaiden, fighting back tears. “Is it so obvious?”
“Yes,” Flumere said. “I’ve been meaning to say something, but I had not the courage. Forgive me, my queen.”
“Oh, stop it. If anyone is to blame, it’s I. I can’t expect you to shoulder my burdens. And don’t you dare start with that ‘my queen’ and ‘your majesty’ talk again.”
Flumere managed a thin smile. “As you wish . . . Arivana.”
She rotated to face Tassariel once more. “You want to know how to help me? It seems you already have.”
“Perhaps as a start,” the valynkar said. “I could tell from the very beginning that Minister Pashams had his claws in you. I didn’t realize they were so deep that you couldn’t even see them.”
“Is it really so bad as all that? He’s been so kind to me. After my parents and siblings died, I only had my aunt to look after me. But he’s been taking care of everything since she tried to kill me.”
“She what?”
Arivana nodded, suppressing a tremble. “In these very gardens, not two hundred paces from where we now sit. It’s why I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it here today.”
“Smart thinking then, deciding to meet here. If you didn’t even expect to come here, I doubt anyone else would either.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, to be honest.”
“My feeling is some part of your mind knew it would be a good idea, nonetheless. Some small voice, lurking in the depths of your consciousness. I’d start listening to it more often if I were you.”
“I think I will.”
“And what does it tell you now about this minister of yours?”
Arivana closed her eyes, trying to quiet her thoughts. She took a deep breath. “That even if he means well, he thinks he has the right to control me, as one would a pet or an infant. I am neither. I may be young, but I’m still a queen. I think it’s time we both learned that.”
Tassariel smiled. “Maybe I can be a help after all.”
“You have already. Truly. I cannot begin to express my gratitude. How ever can I repay you?”
“Just tell me one thing.”
“Name it.”
“What else is troubling you?”
Arivana sat back on the bench. She thought of all she’d been through these past few years. The loss of her family. The assassination attempt by Claris. The subtle molding by Tior. The family taken as slaves over nothing. A young guard, cut in half, whose dying thought was only of beauty.
“There’s something wrong with Panisahldron,” Arivana said. “A sickness lurks at the very heart of our society. It must be excised. Will you help me do that? Can you?”
Tassariel’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a rather hefty task. I don’t—” She stopped and looked away, furrowing her brow.
Arivana tilted her head, gazing at the woman curiously. “What is it?”
The valynkar shook, clutching her elbows as if cold. “I’ll do it,” she said. “I came here for a reason, and it appears this is it.”
Arivana wouldn’t let herself be bothered by the woman’s peculiar behavior. This was an opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss.
She smiled. “Where should we begin?”
CHAPTER 15
Mevon ran.
It felt good to be in motion again. Blood flowed through limbs returned nearly to full strength after too many days spent in lethargic recovery. His chest heaved as he sucked in cold-yet-humid breaths. Balanced sweetly upon that edge between exertion and strain, Mevon was once again glad to be alive.
The pack of dark creatures nipping at his heels made him smile.
He darted through the trees, sticking to the easy footing of the path as their growls and barks and ragged caws crowded him in. Birds took flight in droves, squawking in fright, as bulky black forms disturbed the underbrush below and the branches above. The gap closed by hairs every few paces—as he intended. For their plan to work, he’d have to get the timing just right.
Draevenus had been seeking out packs for the better part of three days. It had taken that long to find one that fit the criteria: few in number, all of a similar size, and none of them men. Despite their primal nature, the feral humans had displayed far too much intelligence to let their pack fall prey to such a simple trap.
And Mevon still wasn’t sure if he was willing to kill them or not.
The proscribed place came into view, and Mevon slowed. An ambush site of their own, to make up for the one they had foolishly fallen into. The one that had nearly done them in. Mevon narrowed his stride, keeping his feet even more strictly to the path. The beasts howled, thinking victory—and their next meal—to be close at hand.
From six different directions, they pounced.
Mevon sprang forward, pushing all of his considerable if slightly diminished strength into clearing the area in time.
Surprised yelps sounded behind him.
He skidded to a halt, spinning with blades bared in case any had managed to evade capture. The precaution proved unnecessary. All six creatures twisted in suspended nets, thrashing like nightmares.
Mevon straightened, sheathing his weapons. “Perfectly placed,” he said. “Not that I expected anything less.”
“And perfectly executed.” Draevenus sauntered out of the shadows on Mevon’s left, dancing daggers across his knuckles. “Like leading mice to cheese. You have a talent for animal wrangling it seems. If you ever find yourself in need of employment, you now have something other than slaughter to turn to.”
Mevon grunted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Draevenus drifted closer to their captives, narrowing his eyes at each in turn.
“Not too close,” Mevon advised. As if to emphasize the point, one beast swung a long talon towards Draevenus, missing by only a hand span.
The mierothi chuckled at the creature’s effort. “Not to worry, my friend. I think we’ve found our candidate.”
Mevon nodded and stepped close. The foul creature barked at his approach, swiping ever more wildly. He watched, studying the movement of dark limbs, then thrust his hand forward at just the right moment. The talon caught in his grip.
Screeching with renewed fury, the dark animal clenched, seeking to pull Mevon close to its slavering beak. He didn’t give it the chance.
His free hand unsheathed his dagger, and in a single motion, chopped off the taloned foot.
The beast’s cries of fury morphed
into cries of pain.
Mevon stepped back, tossing the severed limb to the side. The yelps from the other creatures intensified, becoming nearly unbearable. He tried to ignore it as he wiped the black blood from his hand.
“One wing, too,” Draevenus said. “This would all be pretty pointless if it could simply fly back to the source.”
“You’re still sure that’s where it will go?”
The assassin shrugged. “It’s the best lead we’ve got. Something, somewhere, caused all these beasts to transform. I’m betting that’s exactly where they’ll return upon receiving a grievous injury. If that doesn’t lead us to Ruul, nothing will.”
“I suppose if anyone would know, it’d be you.” Mevon approached the net again and stabbed surgically, snipping through tendons in the wing opposite the severed limb. He stepped back and nodded. “Ready to go.”
Draevenus went behind a tree and released the rope holding up the woven lattice of rope.
Beast and net alike crashed to the ground, and the occupant flapped madly to free itself. It almost looked like it would make one more try for a kill, but a gust of conjured wind from Draevenus sent it screeching and hobbling away.
Mevon watched it disappear down the path, dark smears of its blood indelibly marking its trail. It would be next to effortless to track.
“Are we done here?” Mevon asked.
“Almost.”
He felt a tingle as the mierothi energized again. Clawed hands lifted towards the remaining beasts, letting fly blue flame. The growls soared in volume and pitch until their sudden absence gave way to the crackle of cooking meat. A savory aroma filled Mevon’s nose.
“Dinner,” Draevenus said with a smile. He withdrew a dagger. “And even enough left over for the road.”
“That’s it,” Daye said, pointing through the trees. Jasside saw the stone walls of the fortress, glowing orange before the rising sun. “Are you sure you don’t want me coming with you?”
“Quite sure,” Vashodia said. “We wouldn’t want to be disabling their wards, now would we?”
“Why not?”
“Because that would ruin the surprise.”
“Ah. You’re electing the stealthy approach. I should have guessed.”
“No, no, my dear prince. The surprise is for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Vashodia pivoted away.
Jasside moved to follow but stopped short when a hand gripped her arm gently. And her power fled.
“Be careful,” Daye said.
She turned and peered into his eyes. The sun framed his face, and she stood in his shadow, surprised to find herself completely content. Being under the power of a void isn’t so scary when a good man lives under the nullifying skin.
“I will,” she said, smiling up at him. “I promise.”
“Come, apprentice,” Vashodia called. “Battle awaits.”
Jasside gave the prince a helpless shrug, then followed her mistress. They traversed a forest floor smothered in pine needles and doused in mist, climbing uphill towards the fortress. Jasside prided herself that she wasn’t winded when they reached the crest and came within sight of where the outer walls met the ground. A few years ago, she’d have been huffing halfway up and likely would have had to stop for a rest. The constant travel had been good for her physical health.
But the killing wasn’t good for her soul.
The first time she took a life, it had been her own father. Justice, she thought. At the battle of Thorull, when she’d killed her first mierothi, she’d thought much the same even though she hadn’t even known the man personally. He was guilty simply by virtue of his race. It had all seemed so simple back then.
Now she walked at a mierothi’s side on their way to kill some humans. She let out a snort of laughter.
“Something funny?” Vashodia asked.
Jasside shook her head. “Just life. It never turns out the way you expect, does it?”
“For most people, no.”
“I suppose you don’t include yourself in that ‘most’ category, do you?”
Vashodia flicked her wrist. “Please.”
They strolled a few more paces, then came to a halt. They stood now at the edge of a field filled with tree stumps and coarse grasses, all blackened by flame. A kill zone, three hundred paces deep. Jasside felt a thrumming sheet of energy so close she could touch it, and beyond that several more, layered inside each other in hemispheres around the fortress. The perimeter walls were simple enough, but two great constructs poked up behind them. Hollow tubes charged with sorcerous energy that, according to Sceptrine reports, could launch projectiles a hundred paces or a thousand, with the accuracy of a dart and the devastation of a tornado. Artillery, Daye had called them.
The Panisians knew their business it seemed. At least when it came to war.
“Attack or defend?” Vashodia asked.
“Attack,” Jasside replied without hesitation.
“Feeling eager, are we? Gone too long without a corpse to your name?”
Jasside resented the accusation. “Nothing of the sort. I thought you knew me better than that?”
Vashodia smiled. “Just stoking the flames, my dear. You’ll need the heat for what’s to come.”
“I think the cold will do just fine, thanks. Wouldn’t want things to get out of control.”
“Is that why you chose attack? Think I’ll cause too much collateral damage?”
“With you, that always a valid concern. People near you always seem to get burned.”
“Only those I intend, my dear. You’ll do well to remember that.”
Jasside scoffed. “I can hardly forget it.”
Vashodia sighed, then lowered her hood to her shoulders. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
Stepping forward through the first layer of wards, they both began energizing.
A shrill noise blared throughout the fortress immediately—the alarm sounding. Other responses took a moment to take effect. They obviously weren’t expecting any sort of attack.
And certainly not one like this.
Figures stirred on the battlements as they sauntered across the killing field. Dozens of them. Now, hundreds. One man stood above the rest, waving and shouting something made incoherent by the distance. Probably telling them to stop and state their business, coupled with thinly veiled threats for failure to comply. Jasside paid him no mind. They weren’t here to negotiate.
Energy pulsed out from Vashodia, forming into a bubble that moved as they did. A complex shield that would stop just about anything that came their way. Jasside had reached her own capacity a few beats ago but didn’t want to strike before Vashodia’s defenses were up.
There was nothing to stop her now.
She raised her arms, one each towards the two artillery pieces.
“Still with the silly hand waving?” Vashodia said.
“Always,” Jasside replied. “I don’t trust my own mind just yet, and I don’t think I ever will. Not in one mere lifetime anyway.”
“You’re limiting yourself, you know.”
“That’s exactly the point.”
Energy spun into the form she desired. Something flashy to get their attention. Her hands came down. Twin bolts, like lightning formed of darkness, lanced out of a cloudless sky.
The two artillery pieces exploded into a million sizzling shards.
Jasside had time for a single breath before the arrows began streaking down.
They struck Vashodia’s shield and burst into flames. Fire blanketed Jasside’s vision, thumping in her ears with each concussive blast. The smell of fresh char filled her nose as the heat scorched nearby tree stumps and clumps of grass.
“I can’t see a thing,” Jasside said, waving an arm forward. “Would you mind?”
�
�Making demands of me now?” Vashodia said in mock exasperation. “I thought I’d beaten that out of you long ago.”
Jasside shrugged. “I’ve regressed. More beating will be required. Some clarity, please?”
“Oh, very well.”
The shield morphed at Vashodia’s gentle urging. It widened and softened, becoming an almost gel-like layer between them and their adversaries. The arrows kept whizzing towards them, but instead of exploding, they merely slowed, then stopped altogether, caught in the shield like fish in a net.
Without the flaming obstruction, Jasside had a clear view of the gate. She lifted her hands again, slicing upwards with pointed fingers. A sharp line along the outside edges of the gate glowed white-hot from top to bottom. The massive iron doors squealed like stuck pigs as twisted metal crumpled to the ground.
“Oh, come on!” Vashodia said. “We’re trying to make an entrance. How can we dazzle and delight our foes when we’re stumbling across debris?”
“Have a little faith,” Jasside said. She chopped down, striking the collapsed gate with a strand of energy like a whip. The whole mess split down the middle, and Jasside pushed the two halves aside. She gestured at the clear path ahead. “You’re not the only woman with a plan.”
Vashodia twisted her lips into a smile. “It seems you’re learning something after all. Glad to know my patience isn’t being tested for nothing.”
Together, they strolled to the very center of the fortress courtyard. Arrows continued converging, forming a floating, wood-pricked sphere. Some soldiers tried rushing them but staggered back after getting mired in the shield. It was then that Jasside felt a new presence: a dozen enemy casters, fueled by light, began assaulting their position with direct spells. Vashodia grunted.
“Trouble keeping up?” Jasside asked.
“Impertinent little tart.”
Jasside counted that a victory. Her best one yet.
“Do get on with it, please,” Vashodia said. “I’d rather not be here all day.”
“Gladly.”
Jasside took a single glance around her at the soldiers swarming like ants, their cacophony an unwelcome distraction, and she knew what she needed to do. Something to quiet them. Something to make them listen. She rubbed her hands together.
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