“Don’t be stupid,” she said, not regretting the acid in her voice. “Look at everything your father told you today. He was right. We wouldn’t have found this information about the portals in the archives. I’m just a foreigner. You’re a Dul. You can go places I can’t. But it’s more than that. I need your help. You said you discovered something doing research today? Anything you can learn is something I might have missed.”
He didn’t look like he believed that, but he nodded anyway. “I don’t want to be in the way. I don’t want to just hang around if I’m not needed.”
She took his hand. It was strong and warm. “I need you. Don’t go.”
“All right,” he said softly.
“Before we do anything else, I want to talk to my sister. We can start with that.” She glanced around. “It’s a cluttered mess in here. Let’s go to my room.”
“After you.” He stood and gave a half bow.
∞
Korbin followed Octavia to her room, feeling foolish that his eyes darted to the bed to see if it appeared disturbed, for anything that might contradict her claim that she and the emperor were just friends.
He’d been in love once before, with Tainali, the woman Graiphen drove away. Their relationship had begun with blistering attraction, heart-pounding lust, and secret rendezvous. His feelings for Octavia were different. So different that he hadn’t recognized it as love immediately, but he did love her.
Tainali had been a girl, a beautiful, sweet girl full of fire and passion. Octavia was a woman. She was sometimes serious, sometimes quiet and even closed, but her smile lit up his heart. When she laughed, everything was right with the world. When they worked side by side, an unfamiliar contentment settled over him, a rightness, a companionship that he didn’t want to end.
She demanded patience of him, but he wasn’t put off as he might have been if Tainali had demanded that same forbearance. Octavia made him want to be better, to be worthy of her. He didn’t know if he should hope, but she had asked him to stay. She hadn’t rushed into his arms, but she hadn’t sent him on his way either. So he would wait.
Octavia laid out a few things on the floor in the center of the open sitting area of her room: a silver knife, a porcelain plate, a spool of pink ribbon, a paintbrush, and a small paper packet. She then fetched a collection of herbs that Korbin didn’t recognize, placing a few dried sprigs and leaves on the plate.
“Fetch me that candle, please.” Her voice sounded soft and distant, signaling that she’d already begun her meditations.
Quietly, he padded over to the large candle she’d indicated. He removed the lit wax stick from the iron holder bolted to the wall and brought it to her.
“There,” she whispered, inviting him to sit opposite her.
Taking the candle from him, she burned the leaves one by one. He recognized the scent of juniper mixed with lavender, followed by something muskier he didn’t know. The smells made him feel sleepy and his eyes half-closed as Octavia began to chant slowly.
She took the knife and, with a slow, deliberate cut, sliced into her palm, which was already crisscrossed with many marks from past rituals. Taking a length of the ribbon, she soaked it in her blood. She tied one end to Korbin’s wrist and made a loop to fasten the other to her own wrist. The moment she’d pulled it tight, he felt acutely aware of her, every breath, every movement, every flutter.
The drone of Octavia’s chant continued, and Korbin felt the pull of darkness around him. He wanted nothing more than to drop off to sleep. Soon after he closed his eyes, a woman touched his shoulder.
“Mother?” Her sudden appearance in his thoughts startled him slightly, but an infusion of love and comfort washed over him. Sometimes, that he had trouble remembering her exact features bothered him. Her image in his mind had been a soft, fuzzy version of a child’s memory. Now she appeared real and detailed. He couldn’t believe he’d ever forgotten.
“Yes,” she said softly. She wore a gauzy wrap of emerald green draped around her, and her chestnut hair fell about her shoulders in soft curls.
He wanted to touch her face, but he was frightened that she’d disappear, and he didn’t want the spell to be broken. As though reading his thoughts, she reached out to him, caressing his cheek with her soft, pale hand.
“You’ve grown so handsome.” She smiled. “Of course, you always were a pretty child with those untamable locks and crystal blue eyes.”
“It’s so good to see you. I miss you every day.”
Her eyes crinkled with happiness. “And I you. Are you well?”
Never able to lie to her, he merely shrugged. “Mostly.”
“Your father?” she asked.
“He’s… had his troubles.” When her expression darkened, he added, “You shouldn’t worry about us.”
“Oh, I don’t worry about your father. He always manages to take care of himself. I have worried that he didn’t take care of you, though. I didn’t want to leave you so soon.”
“I know.”
“You’re a grown man now. Look at you. Are you married?”
“No.” His thoughts turned to Tainali. She was the closest he’d come to having a wife, but his father had sabotaged that relationship.
“Who is she, then?” His mother indicated his wrist. When he looked down, he saw the pink ribbon stained with Octavia’s blood. His gaze went along the length of it, and he saw Octavia herself sitting a little bit away from them, watching them closely.
“A friend,” he said.
His mother lowered her voice and spoke only to him. “You love her. I can see that, but she’s not yours.”
Korbin felt an ache in his chest, but he didn’t reply. He’d never argued with his mother, and he wasn’t going to start now, not when he felt so fortunate to see her again.
His mother smiled at Octavia. “Come here, girl. Let me see you.”
Much to his surprise, Octavia glanced down in a bashful manner. She nodded and scooted over, sitting beside him, her knee touching his. “I’m Octavia,” she said.
“And I am Risa.” She glanced around and Korbin’s gaze followed hers as more of the room started to come into focus. They were in a cave of sorts. “Where are we?”
“This is the place I last met my sister. I’d hoped to find her here again.”
His mother nodded, her expression suddenly vacant. “She’s coming, I think. I feel someone approaching.”
Another woman walked into view, as though materializing out of nowhere. She had dark hair like Octavia’s, but her tilted eyes were wider set and her lips more full. She appeared younger by at least a decade. Korbin remembered that she’d been Octavia’s older sister, but then, his mother hadn’t aged since her death, either.
“Trinity.” Octavia stood and embraced her sister. The pink ribbon connecting her to Korbin stretched to keep them connected without dragging him with her.
Trinity’s mouth was tight. “You shouldn’t come here. It isn’t natural for the living to go beyond the veil. I’m surprised you were able to.”
“I need help, Trin,” she said. “Pang has come to the realm of men.”
Trinity nodded. “So now there are two. What are you going to do about it?”
“I need to know more about them if I’m going to fight them. I still have not learned how the Spirits were sent away last time. Do they have any weaknesses?”
“Perhaps not weaknesses, but limitations, certainly. They cannot move about freely in your realm without possessing a willing vessel.”
“Pang has created a child using one of the acolytes of the temple and,” she glanced at Risa, “well, the seed of a man she possessed. So she has overcome that limitation with her son Zain.”
Trinity frowned. “Yes and no. This Zain will have powers, yes, but he is essentially a man. He is mortal and cannot possess others.”
“He seems to have great influence.”
“Influence, yes, but that is not possession. He cannot bestow power on others the way his mother can,
and the appetites of these creatures are their first priorities. He is a slave to them too. Not as much as she, perhaps, for the hunger is tamed as the blood is diluted. A strong mind can thwart his attempts.”
Octavia nodded. “Trinity, I don’t know where to look for how to defeat them. We have learned some about the Spirits, but not discovered the key. And now, Pang is planning to gain a foothold in our world, to come through physically into our realm.”
“That must not happen,” Trinity said sharply. “If she achieves that aim, she cannot be stopped. She will enslave humanity. You must close the way between the worlds before then.”
“The way? You mean the portal? How do I find it?”
“The first to return was Braetin. The way will be close to where she resides.”
“It’s in her temple in Vol. My father knows its exact location,” Korbin said. “He witnessed Pang’s arrival and said he feared others might create more portals.”
“Your father?” Risa’s expression darkened. “What has he done?”
Korbin squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, Mother.”
“Of course I worry. He’s not a man of strong character.” She clucked her tongue. “He never was. I sometimes hated him, you know, but I also loved him.” She smiled at Korbin. “How could I not? He gave me you.”
“I don’t believe more than one portal can exist,” Trinity muttered, but she looked troubled. “Not without creating great instability. That is the good news. The bad news is that Braetin will likely do anything to protect the portal.” She jerked her head as though someone had spoken to her, and turned her gaze to Octavia. “You have to go. You shouldn’t be here. Time is turning.”
Risa hugged Korbin. “Thank you for coming, son. I’ve missed you.”
“I love you,” he said.
Octavia took Korbin’s hand and urged him to his feet. “We should go.”
Korbin looked down, meeting his mother’s eyes once more. He wanted to memorize her face.
“Don’t worry. We’ll see one another again. Be patient with your father. He’s always been difficult.”
Octavia continued to tug and Korbin felt himself falling.
When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to recognize Octavia’s room. His head ached and his lips felt dry. The bright light coming from the window pierced through him, sending waves of pain into his head. He turned his head and saw Octavia lying beside him, their wrists still tied by a pink ribbon, but the blood on it had long since dried.
“Octavia,” he said. “Wake up.”
She groaned and turned her head toward him. Her eyes opened slowly, as though they were weighted down. “Curse the fire,” she said, sitting bolt upright on the floor. “How long have we been asleep?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I just woke up.”
She met his gaze, her expression grim. “Last time I spoke to Trinity, I woke to find three months had passed.”
“Damn,” he said.
“Exactly. You were supposed to act as an anchor, to keep me from leaving completely, but instead you not only went with me, but you went ahead, even seeking out your mother. That shouldn’t have been possible.” She reached down and untied the ribbon between them.
“But we’re exactly where we were when we started. It can’t have been that long,” he said. His arm felt heavy when he reached up to massage his throbbing temple. He wanted to sit up, but he was too weak.
“Oh bless the eight, you’re awake.” A strange voice startled them both. A plump man came over and hovered over Korbin, reaching down to touch him on the neck. “Your rhythm has stayed strong, so we knew you would eventually come back to us.”
“What day is it?” Octavia asked. “How long have we been asleep?”
The man hesitated. “Today is the fifth of Frax.”
“We’ve been unconscious almost three days?” Octavia shivered.
“So it appears. The emperor wanted to move you to the infirmary, but I convinced him this wasn’t necessary. He tasked me to watch over you and placed guards at the door. He feared you’d been poisoned, but I knew that was unlikely.”
Octavia leapt to her feet, only to have to sit back down immediately, taking one of the nearby soft seats. “Who are you?”
“Sen Betram,” he said. “Careful. You need time to regain your strength. You haven’t taken anything but spoonsful of broth in days.”
A Kilovian conduit? Korbin struggled to clear his thoughts.
“I need to see the emperor,” Octavia said.
“You should rest.” Betram frowned.
Korbin sat up despite his dizziness. “And my father.”
“He’s asked after you several times,” the man replied. “He’s late today. I expect he’ll be along soon.”
Doubt twisted in Korbin’s gut. “We should speak to him right away.”
Octavia nodded. “Three days,” she muttered.
Three days. And Korbin had no doubt this was his fault.
Chapter 20
Octavia felt both grateful and embarrassed at the loss of three days. The outcome could have been catastrophic. Without Sen Betram’s help, they might have been gone for months. Without intervention, they might have starved to death.
She muttered under her breath, and Betram chuckled in response. “I understand how you feel,” he said. “Once I cut too deeply in a seeking ritual and I fainted in front of one of my community members.”
When she tried to stand again, he motioned for her to stop. “You should sit for a while. Lying down would be even better.”
“I’ve been lying down for days,” she snapped, then quickly added, “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated with myself.”
“Your anchor didn’t hold,” Betram said, not looking at Octavia.
“We went too far,” she said, feeling defensive. Any trainee knew the principles of how to separate mind and body, though not all of them could attain it. When the skill was taught, students were drilled incessantly not to go too far and to use a stable anchor. Korbin had served as such an anchor before with good success, so she’d never dreamed they would have a problem if they tried again.
Something had been different this time. She cast him a sideways glance, noting his worried expression. She wondered if he knew or suspected what had gone wrong.
“How far?” Betram asked.
Octavia was grateful for his help, but wary of the pointed question. She didn’t want him to assert himself as her superior, even though he was technically within his rights to do so, nor did she want to deal with a power struggle should she resist his claim.
Korbin sat in reflective silence. Seeing his mother must have been a shock. To avoid Betram’s question, she asked, “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Cold.”
Betram went to the bed and pulled off a thick blanket. “That’s to be expected when travelling. The return can be jarring and it takes a while to adjust to the physical body.” He put the blanket around Korbin’s shoulders. Meeting her eyes, Betram added, “The further the journey, the more difficult the transition.”
“My mother…” Korbin’s voice trailed off. “It seemed so real.”
“You viewed your mother?” Betram asked, his eyes sharp.
“I spoke with her, yes.”
“The anchor mustn’t seek,” he said. “Senne Octavia should have taught you this.”
“I didn’t seek her. She was just there.” Korbin looked muddled and confused.
“Where was she?”
“I don’t know that place. It was strange. Everything kept changing.”
Not wanting Betram to know what they’d been doing, Octavia interjected, “We should get word to your father. He will have been worried.”
“Is that what the afterlife is like?” Korbin asked in a dazed tone.
Betram’s mouth snapped closed. “Your mother is dead?”
“Yes. For a long time.”
Octavia pressed her eyelids shut. Why did he have to be so chatty, now of all times?
/> “You know better,” Betram hissed at Octavia. “To seek the dead is an abomination. What is your purpose in these unorthodox methods?”
Octavia bristled. Her instinct was to tell him it was none of his concern, but hadn’t she been wishing for his help and advice? She couldn’t afford to alienate him, but neither did she want him interfering. “I went too far,” she repeated.
“You’re saying it was an accident? I thought Sen Rhikar’s best pupil would have more sense than that.”
Hearing her former mentor’s name made her stomach twist. “I made a mistake.”
She hated letting him believe she’d been careless, but she didn’t want to reveal everything about the Talmoran gods. Not yet. Kilovian conduits had some patience for the false religion of Talmor, but to learn they were parasitic alien beings was not a fire she wanted to light. Not today. Someday, they’d know the truth. She needed to think.
“Is he your only pupil?” Betram asked.
She started to say he wasn’t her pupil, but what she’d just seen from him gave her pause. He had taken control of her seeking. He shouldn’t have been able to do that, she repeated to herself.
“I’m not a pupil,” Korbin said, dazed. “I love her.”
Octavia felt her face warm. “Dul Korbin is my friend. He has acted as an anchor for me in the past. I’m not sure what went wrong today, but I will look into it.”
“You’re saying—”
Octavia cut him off. “I’ll look into it.” She shrugged off the inquiry and managed to get to her feet without wobbling. “Thank you for your help.”
Betram seemed to stiffen at the implied dismissal. “All conduit activity in Durjin is my responsibility. Of course I came the moment I heard I was needed. In fact, I think I should be more involved in whatever it is you’re doing here. The Sennestelle is pleased that the emperor wants to include our people in his advisory council; however, I cannot say I think choosing a young woman of so little experience was the wisest option. I will have to think on how to best approach this.”
“Of course, the Sennestelle must act as it sees fit, but do be aware that the situation is fragile. The emperor asked me here because he trusts me. Personally, I would rather be back in Vol, tending to our community there. But he invited me, and I felt it was my duty to comply.”
Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) Page 16