by K K Ness
“You’re hardly the first human to walk these halls, Danil,” Freyna said. “Our quarrel lies with Roldaer, not humanity. And yes, I’m aware of your story. Sonnen has shared your exploits with the High Council—I won’t lie and say that your Roldaerian heritage doesn’t matter, but your deeds speak well of you. And let’s not forget that Kailon’s leylines trust your judgment. Otherwise, they would never have chosen you.”
“I don’t think they had many other options,” Danil admitted, recalling the desperate fight in the temple.
Freyna scoffed. “Custodians aren’t chosen by happenstance. The wellspring called you to it, no?”
Hesitating, Danil nodded.
“It was no different for me,” Freyna said. “I was part of a trade delegation from Jolun House, and on my first night, I found myself wandering the halls until I came upon the great lodestone. Despite coming from another House, no one cast doubt over my legitimacy as the future custodian of Corros.”
Danil knew he didn’t have that luxury. “Arlyn meets with the High Council today,” he said with trepidation. Despite her consistently warm demeanor, Danil could not believe that her intentions toward Kailon were benevolent.
“And you’ll have your turn soon enough.” She patted his arm gently. “Trust that the people of Amas will not let Kailon fall to ruin again.”
Danil hoped that she was right.
An innocuous wooden door lead into a small chamber. At its center stood a massive crystal taller than Danil and just as broad. It glowed a mellow, deep blue with dots of light that swirled and danced as if in a breeze.
“The first crystal of Corros,” Freyna said, her voice reverent.
“It’s magnificent,” Danil breathed. Against his chest, his crystal turned a surly yellow that leaked through his tunic. By habit, Danil gripped it and admired its steady warmth. ‘You’re still my favorite,’ he thought, fighting down his amusement.
The crystal brightened to gold.
Freyna looked bemused. “Your kiandrite is most responsive,” she said. “Wherever did you come upon it?”
Danil smiled. “It was a gift,” he said, thinking of the leylines.
“It will certainly serve you well. We custodians have a unique connection with kiandrite that manifests in unexpected ways.”
Danil watched the custodian circle the giant crystal.
“How did it get so big?”
“As a first crystal, it chooses its own shape based on the needs of the leylines.” She gave the crystal a cheeky smile. “It has grown fat and spoiled under my care, I’m afraid.”
The first crystal flushed with affronted pink, and Freyna laughed.
“I like you this way, old friend. It means that the leylines are safe, and so is Amas.” Her smile dimmed, and a small frown appeared on her brow. “I fear the time is fast approaching when that will no longer be the case, and we will need your steely heart once more.”
The crystal darkened in agreement, and Danil felt an odd sensation on his chest as his own crystal responded. It felt like an agreement was made between the two powerful pieces of kiandrite, and Danil felt inexplicably relieved.
Freyna looked at the two crystals curiously but didn’t comment. She stepped away from the crystal. “Come, there is another chamber I would show you.”
A small alcove lead into an antechamber. It was compact and perfectly circular, but Danil’s attention was snared by the towering height of the walls. They sprawled upwards like a chimney, so high that Danil caught sight of a dot of blue sky. He turned about in a slow circle. Flecks of kiandrite sparkled in the rocks. But what caught Danil’s attention was the array of glyphs that spanned the height of the chimney. No two glyphs were the same.
“What is this place?” Danil asked.
Freyna clasped her hands behind her back and looked up. “The catacombs here hold every glyph that has ever been used in Corros.”
It startled Danil out of his reverie. “All of them?”
“What is left of them, in any case,” Freyna said, staring up at the countless winking lights. “The great lodestone sits below this very chamber, and it has a thirst for the knowledge the glyphs bring. Many enchanters throughout Amas come to Corros to learn from them.”
Danil noticed a small handful of glyphs upon the ground. He respectfully sidestepped around each one as he inspected those closest on the wall.
“What is it that you see, custodian?” she asked intently.
He turned back to Freyna, startled to see a ghostly wren perched upon her shoulder. Her Trueform would have been unremarkable, save for the iridescent lines of kiandrite threading through her wings. He rubbed his eyes, but the wren remained visible.
“The floor, Danil,” Freyna pressed.
Danil frowned, glancing down. “Do you mean the glyphs?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “I knew it,” she breathed.
He turned to fully face her.
“The protective glyphs ensure none may enter who would steal or damage the catacombs,” Freyna said. “They are visible to no one—and with good reason. How many do you see?”
Danil did a quick count. “Twelve.”
“To match the twelve Houses of Amas,” she breathed. Freyna suddenly hugged him. “Oh, what a mysterious gift you are, Danil! The High Council must know. It changes everything!”
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Danil said.
Freyna pulled back, beaming. “We may have found a way save Kailon.”
14
They came upon Hafryn limping along a corridor a short time later. To Danil’s surprise, the wolf was being half-supported by Griff, who bore a dour expression as he eased Hafryn down onto a bench seat outside a meeting hall.
“What happened?” Danil asked in alarm.
“Fala!” Hafryn gave him a sloppy grin. A cut showed above his hairline.
Griff looked relieved to hand the wolf over. “Found him wandering outside the training halls. Says he’s finished his cleansing.”
The wolf’s eyes were distinctly unfocused.
“He’s badly hurt,” Danil growled. “We have to get him to the healers.”
The blue dragon shrugged. “He mentioned something about ephril.”
Freyna muttered something under her breath. “It’s a curative the Eyrie use to muddle the mind,” she explained to Danil.
“Had to take it,” Hafryn argued, attempting to straighten. “It’s part of the ritual. Take the ephril, then do battle.” He blinked, his eyes focusing on Danil. “Hello, fala.” He reached out as if to draw him close.
Danil steadied him. “How long will the effects last?”
“A half day or so, by all reports,” Freyna said. “It creates hallucinations. The Eyrie use it in cleansing battles so that the supplicant is never quite sure what Trueform they fought against.”
“No owls,” Hafryn mumbled. “Big wolf, though.” He frowned muzzily at the ceiling. “Maybe it was my own wolf.”
Freyna sighed. “Best you take him to your rooms, Danil. I’ll send for a healer.” She turned to Griff. “Thank you for aiding our friend. We’ll deal with him from here.”
Relief showed on the blue dragon’s face. He bowed to the custodian before stalking down the corridor.
“Surly,” Hafryn muttered, then burped inelegantly. “Not like you, fala.”
Danil wondered if the injury was worse than first appeared.
Freyna gave a soft chuckle. “Your beloved will be fine, Danil.”
“Quietly, honored custodian,” Hafryn whispered conspiratorially. He tapped his nose. “He doesn’t know the real meaning of fala.”
Danil resisted a sigh. “Real meaning? Why am I not surprised you lied about it?”
“It’s an old Amasian term for beloved.” Amusement colored Freyna’s voice.
Danil scowled at the wolf. “You told me it meant moonflower.”
“At the time, you weren’t ready for it to be anything else,” Hafryn said with a dismissive sniff.
Freyn
a’s smile widened.
“Gods, let’s get you back to our rooms,” Danil muttered. He threw Hafryn’s arm over his shoulder to steady him.
Freyna’s apparent enjoyment of the situation only grew. “Go on with your beloved, Danil. I’ll organize a meeting with the High Council—this cannot wait a few days.”
“Thank you, honored custodian.”
The aging woman gave him a bow and continued along the corridor.
With a sigh, Danil heaved Hafryn upright. “You could have warned me,” he muttered.
“About ephril?” Hafryn squinted at him.
“No, the fighting.”
Hafryn snorted. “That would have happened no matter what. Better this way. Means the Eyrie don’t plan to kill me.”
“Really? What makes you so certain?”
“There are rules after the cleansing rites.” Hafryn gave him a surreptitious wink. “Two weeks of being untouchable by any of the Eyrie. Viren did us a favor, though I don’t know why.” He smirked suddenly. “And they barely even got a kick in.”
Danil eyed the cut on his friend’s forehead. “Right. Come on, then.” He hauled Hafryn a few feet along the corridor.
The wolf suddenly paled, wavering on his feet. “I need to sit down a moment,” Hafryn said, eyes earnest and face decidedly green.
“You can’t make it back to our rooms, can you?”
“Hmm.”
With a sigh, Danil hailed a nearby guard to go in search of a healer.
The healers sent them away at midday with a harsh rebuke about Eyrie tricks and hallucinogens wasting the healer’s time. Clear-eyed and amused, Hafryn sketched a bow at the glowering woman before jauntily strolling from the healing hall and into the corridor leading back to their quarters.
Danil trailed after him, noting the stiff line of Hafryn’s back. “You didn’t tell them about your ribs.”
The wolf sniffed, stepping close to the wall to allow a pair of young shifters to pass. “It’s nothing to speak of, fala.”
“Really?” Danil folded his arms. “Like the cleansing rite that caused it?”
Hafryn looked at him sidelong. “The Eyrie have traditions that aren’t easy to explain—not even among fellow Amasians.”
Danil scowled. “Try me.”
Hafryn suddenly noticed the unhappy set of Danil’s mouth. “I—not here. I’m sorry, fala. The Eyrie isn’t the only House with spies.”
“Our quarters, then.”
“You’re stubborn,” Hafryn marveled. “Not a surprise, of course, but sometimes I forget the full measure of it.”
Danil shifted his feet. “Maybe so, but you forget to trust me, too.”
Hafryn frowned. “That’s quite a leap, don’t you think?”
“Is it? Ever since we got here, you’ve kept things from me, hidden things.” Danil swallowed heavily. “You’ve lied to me, Hafryn.”
Hafryn’s mouth fell open before he shut it with a click. “It’s not for the reasons you think.” He gave a humorless grimace. “You’ve your own issues to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you with family squabbles as well.”
Danil’s heart did a slow, heavy roll. “We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
Hafryn blinked and tilted his head, green eyes clearing. “Oh, fala, we are indeed. This is yet another transgression I must atone for.” He took Danil’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “Truly, I—”
The floor suddenly trembled under their feet.
Spinning, Danil watched as seams of kiandrite in the walls flared an angry red before a blood-curdling scream rang out.
“That sounded close,” Danil gasped.
“Come on!”
They entered the corridor at a sprint, hurtling past startled shifters to see guards frantically kicking the door to their own rooms. The wood splintered with a crack.
Leaping over the shattered remains of the door, Danil saw a charred body lying amidst the overturned couch and table. A few feet away lay Freyna. Blood pooled under the custodian. A cold bite hung in the air, along with it the strange scent of lightning during a storm. The room was tinged red as the kiandrite continued to glow angrily with harsh bursts of scarlet so dark it occasionally turned black.
Danil quickly turned Freyna over. She was shockingly pale, with blood coating the front of her robe. Her eyes opened a fraction before closing once again.
“She’s alive,” Hafryn muttered. “Get a healer in here!” he yelled to the guards. One took off at a sprint.
Freyna’s breath rattled in her throat.
Danil gripped her hand. “Help’s coming, Freyna. Stay with us.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw a guardsman bend over the dead man.
“Don’t touch him,” Hafryn barked even as he pressed a wad of cloth to Freyna’s side. “Even I can sense the death enchantment over him.”
Charred blackness scoured away much of the man’s flesh, leaving him unrecognizable. Danil’s stomach turned. The room smelled like the toxic and blackened fields that covered most of the deadlands.
Suddenly, Sonnen pushed his way into the room. He took a quick look about, his golden eyes flaming, and knelt beside Danil to gently cup Freyna’s face. “Custodian,” he rumbled.
Freyna’s eyes cracked open. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“No, don’t speak,” Sonnen said. “Reserve your strength, my friend.”
She gave out a weak rasp as she clasped his arm. “Videre.”
Viren abruptly pushed into the gap between Danil and Sonnen, a woman in brown healer robes on his heels. “Clear a space,” the Eyrie councilor ordered tersely.
Danil rose to his feet, watching anxiously as the healer knelt beside Freyna and began her work. Hafryn moved to stand beside him.
Both Sonnen and Viren followed the directions of the healer as she pressed a bandage lined with glyphs to Freyna’s side.
“Let’s get her to the infirmary,” the healer muttered, motioning to the guards. A pair gently eased Freyna up, and in a rush, they vacated the rooms.
A momentary quiet settled over the room. Hafryn scrubbed wet hands through his hair and cursed.
“Stay a moment, Viren,” Sonnen growled as the councilor made for the door. The dragon prince wiped blood onto his breeches.
Viren paused beside the destroyed side table, his expression carefully blank.
Sonnen pointed to the charred body. “If you please.”
Danil and Hafryn joined them in squatting over the dead man. There was little left to mark the man, the body charred beyond recognition. A dagger remained clenched in one clawed hand, its tip coated in blood.
Sonnen pulled free a scrap of charred fabric under the body and inspected the fine stitching. With a grunt, he handed the material to Hafryn.
“Eyrie cloth,” the wolf muttered, tilting it toward the light streaming in from the balcony.
Flames showed bright and raging in Sonnen’s eyes as he turned to Viren. “Best you have an explanation, councilor,” he growled.
Viren frowned and motioned for Hafryn to hand over the cloth. At Sonnen’s nod, the wolf obeyed. A moment passed before Viren set down the fabric. He sighed. “Hafryn is right, though I promise, your highness, there are none among my people who would dare attack the custodian of Corros.”
“It is unlikely that she was the intended target,” Sonnen muttered, his gaze flicking to Danil.
Viren looked Danil up and down, green eyes bland. “While your human may cause anxiety among the High Council, Prince Sonnen, I can assure you no one has approached me with a contract to…rectify matters.”
Danil’s skin pebbled under the stony regard.
Viren tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Why was Freyna here, in any case?” he asked Danil. “You two were last seen together in the catacombs.”
Wondering how the councilor knew that, Danil folded his arms. “We parted ways before midday. Last I saw, she was headed for the High Council. I’d hoped to join her but was waylaid when Hafryn needed th
e healers.”
Sonnen’s eyes narrowed upon the Eyrie councilor. The man appeared unconcerned.
“Just the effects of ephril,” Hafryn muttered to Sonnen.
Danil glowered. “Not just the ephril.”
The flames in Sonnen’s eyes deepened.
“The ritual may have been more vigorous than usual,” Viren allowed, straightening. At Sonnen’s deepening growl, the councilor sighed and pulled a small vial from his pouch. “This should remedy any lasting effects of Hafryn’s cleansing.”
Danil took the vial before the wolf could reach for it. He unstoppered the cork and sniffed it suspiciously. “You couldn’t have given it to Hafryn earlier?”
The man said nothing, eyes hooded.
“It’s not poison, fala.” Hafryn took the vial and swallowed the contents with a grimace. “Eyrie often refuse healers because they pride themselves on their ability to ignore injury.”
“A skill you seem to have lost,” Viren noted with a disdainful sniff.
“Aye, without any regret,” Hafryn countered, baring his teeth.
Sonnen shook his head. “In any case, the High Council’s session with Emissary Arlyn today was shorter than expected. Freyna must have come here when she discovered the chambers were empty.”
“What was so important that she went to the High Council?” Viren asked. “I understood she was to be with the human custodian today.”
Hafryn tilted his head. “Who else knew that Danil was spending the day with Freyna? And that I’d likely be waylaid by my…cleansing ceremony?”
Viren stilled, green eyes chill. “What are you implying, cousin?”
“Would any of your underlings take a contract without your knowledge?” Hafryn asked.
“No.”
“So certain,” Sonnen marveled with a mocking shake of his head.
Viren inclined his head. “I am, my prince. That is the surety of the Eyrie—no unauthorized contracts, no solo missions. Our work is for the wealth of all of Eyrie. We don’t freelance.”
“So you say, but this assassin was obviously waiting for Danil to return alone or with me incapacitated,” Hafryn growled. “He was caught by surprise when it was Freyna he attacked. Hence why instead of the killing blow, the dagger went into her side—he likely changed the direction of the blow the moment he realized his mistake.”