Jason nodded, then sucked in a deep breath to try and steel himself for whatever was about to happen. He almost felt like a man returning to his family after a long war…except in this case, they had been the ones actually doing the fighting. He had stood on the sidelines, and he had no idea how they might react. Anger? Acceptance? Derision?
Selvhara’s fingers brushed against his, and she leaned in close and offered him a warm smile. “It will be all right. I promise.”
She must have been feeling almost the same way, Jason knew, but he wouldn’t have known it from her face. Her expression was calm, her violet eyes were clear and focused, and she looked like she could take on the world if she needed to. And maybe she would.
“Yeah,” he managed. “Let’s go.”
He strode up to the door, trying to project a confidence he didn’t feel, and when he turned the handle he half-expected a barrage of crossbow bolts to hit him in the chest. But when no one shot or yelled at him, he braced himself and stepped inside.
“Now that’s a face I never thought I’d see again,” Aidan Darond said, his deep, raspy voice as memorable as ever. The old man sat in a plush chair, a billowing pipe in one hand and a half-empty pint of ale in the other. He was as burly as Jason remembered, but a white beard now covered most of his face. He had to be in his early seventies by now.
“You hoped you wouldn’t, anyway,” Ria Magran agreed. Her hair was shorter than before, but her bitter smile was every bit as acerbic. She leaned against the bar on the back wall, hands folded across her chest. She was as stiff and wiry as ever, and about a decade Jason’s senior.
“Good to see you, too,” he told them, stopping a few steps in. He had been preparing an introduction for days, but now that he was actually here his mouth was so dry he could hardly speak.
“They’re ecstatic; don’t let them fool you,” a voice said from around the corner. A moment later Kyle Adar walked into the room, a wide smile on his face. “When Sarina said you were here, I thought Ria might faint.”
“Hah!” Ria grunted. “That’s one way to put it.”
Aidan set down his pipe and ale and brought himself to his feet. He might have been old, but he moved quickly to the door with his arms open. “My dear,” he said, nearly crushing Selvhara in his embrace. “There were days I thought we’d never see you again.”
She smiled at the old man once she finally managed to squirm free. “You’re looking well, Aidan.”
“Now that’s a lie I can live with,” he grunted. “You, on the other hand, look like you haven’t aged a day.”
“It’s the hair,” Selvhara chided. “I keep it white to hide the years.”
They shared a chuckle, and Jason smiled. An actual, factual smile…and it felt just as good as he’d imagined.
“I see you’re still dragging around this old troublemaker,” Adar said, nodding over to Tam.
“Sometimes literally,” Jason muttered. “He still likes to drink…and sleep.”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Tam shot back. “Usually we just make Gor lug me around.”
Adar clapped both men on the shoulders. “It really is good to see both of you. I’d say welcome home…but I have a feeling you might not recognize Galvia much anymore.”
“We’ve done a lot of traveling,” Jason said, ignoring the veiled insult. If it even was an insult—he wasn’t actually sure. “But we haven’t been to Lyebel in a long time. It’s barely recognizable.”
“The Crell insisted on changing everything, but we’ll change it back in time. We’ve already made more progress than anyone expected.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jason replied. “Look, I’m not sure how much Sarina told you, but we’re here looking for help—if you’re willing to offer it.
Adar smiled tightly. “I don’t think anyone expected you to come back for anything else. Don’t take that the wrong way—we’re all happy you’re here regardless of your reasons. The son of General Moore is always welcome here.”
Jason managed not to wince. “Thank you. I’m just glad you’re still around. After Tibel…”
“Well, you never did have much faith in us,” Ria replied tartly, keeping her distance. “But we’re tougher to kill than the Crell think.”
“It was never a matter of faith,” Jason said, feeling his cheeks flush. “I just thought you were—”
“Fighting an uphill battle against a superior opponent,” Adar finished for him. “All we were offering the Galvian people was false hope, a chance to fight the good fight but die poor, lonely, and helpless.” He grunted. “Trust me: we all remember that speech of yours quite well.”
“I don’t remember what I had for breakfast today, but I definitely remember that,” Aidan coughed, moving back to his seat and dragging Selvhara with him.
“Jace does give memorable speeches,” Tam muttered. “You should’ve heard the one that brought us here.”
Jason forced an awkward smile and did his best to endure the jibes. They were playful, for the most part, but it was impossible not to sense the edge of bitterness behind them. Deep down, he had always known they would accept him back into the fold…but he also knew that they would never forget—or forgive—what he had done. They were all good people, but they had lost absolutely everything during the war. It had changed him, and they were nothing if not single-minded. Just like his father.
After a few minutes of idle banter, they eventually shifted back to the topic at hand.
“So I’m not sure what exactly Sarina told you about what’s going on,” Jason said, “but like I said, we could use your help.”
“And you’ll have it,” Adar promised. “You couldn’t have picked a better time to stop by, actually. We’re about to have other visitors.”
“Really,” Jason whispered before sharing a concerned glance with Sel and Tam. “And who would that be?”
“Two Knights of the Last Dawn are on their way here from Celenest.”
“Knights?” Selvhara asked, her eyebrows rising.
Adar nodded. “Yes. It appears that Highlord Dracian himself wishes to meet with us.”
“Tevek,” she breathed. “Tevek is on his way here?”
Jason smiled. “Now that is a name I haven’t heard in a long time. Why is he coming?”
“He’s investigating the situation for the Alliance,” Adar explained. His voice was calm, but something in his face was…off. “The Lord’s Council won’t send their own people, so the Dawn gets to play proxy. You know how it works.”
“All too well,” Jason replied. “You don’t seem overly thrilled about it, though.”
“Me?” Adar asked. “I couldn’t be happier. I’m hoping we might be able to convince them to help us more directly. Once he sees the situation on the ground and realizes how much progress we’ve made, I think he’ll find it difficult to look away.”
“He will help,” Selvhara said, her eyes distant. All of her legendary composure had melted the instant someone had mentioned Tevek’s name. She looked almost…giddy. “He will help all of us.”
“I’m sure,” Jason replied, wishing he believed it. He had all the respect in the world for the Highlord and his paladins despite his father’s long-term rivalry with the man, but something about the timing just didn’t sit right with him. Perhaps he was just jumping at shadows—considering how much the Crell seemed to want him dead, he should have been overjoyed at the prospect of finding any new ally.
“In the meantime, why don’t I show you around a bit?” Adar asked. “Then you can tell us why you’re here.”
Jason gestured deeper into the compound. “Lead the way.”
***
Complacency was death.
General Moore had been preaching that line for years now, and Kyle Adar had done his best to take the lesson to heart. The moment they let their guard down, the Crell could attack and wipe them out. That was exactly what had happened at Tibel, and no matter how weak the Crell might have seemed, Adar knew they were still just a single mi
sstep away from another massacre here in Lyebel. But this time, the Resistance would be gone for good. Galvia would have fallen for good.
But here and now, surrounded by old friends he had thought gone forever, he couldn’t help but relax back in his chair. For the first time in as long as he could remember, all his concerns about the war—all his concerns about the general’s demons and stratagems—seemed half a world away.
“I think that was the day your father swore never to eat finkleberry pie again,” Aidan said, his famous toothy grin spread wide across his face.
“He stuck by his word; as far as I know, dad never touched the stuff again,” Jason replied. The younger man’s smile was just as disarming as Adar remembered. He was the spitting image of his mother, Elissa, in so many ways. Finding traces of Ethan in his features was much more difficult, and finding any traces of Ethan in his heart was almost impossible.
And Adar was confident that wasn’t a bad thing.
The eight of them were fanned out more or less evenly across the common room, and everyone was seated other than Sarina and Gor. The duo leaned against opposite walls from one another almost like bodyguards, and Adar had almost forgotten how imposing chagari could be in person. Gor obviously cared little for idle human chatter, but he was patient enough to wait for the subject to switch.
“So this young lady mentioned that you thought I could help you with something,” Aidan said after a few minutes, wrapping his arm around Selvhara on the couch. “I thought you were the master of history now.”
“Not as often as I’d like,” Jason said as he pulled a pouch from his belt. “First, we were hoping to sell off the rest of our cargo in town here. I figured you might be able to point me to the right people.”
“I’m sure Ria could. She knows just about everyone in the merchant district these days.”
“That should work. But second, I was hoping you might be able to help me with some translations.” He opened the pouch and pulled out what appeared to be a small metallic cube with engravings on all sides. “We’re trying to figure out exactly what this is.”
Aidan’s brow furrowed. “Dusty baubles are your specialty, boy. It looks like some kind of case to me.”
“It’s definitely more than just a container,” Selvhara said. “We hoped you could read the engravings: they’re written in Nephilese.”
“Really,” he murmured, his interest obviously piqued. He stretched out his hand to take it. “Where did you find it?”
Jason hesitated a bit awkwardly before giving it to the older man. “Be gentle with it. Like I said, we’re not sure what else it can do. We found it with the rest of the relics in an old tomb.”
“What else it can do,” Ria murmured. “Are you implying it’s done something already?”
Tam grunted. “Does vaporizing a Crell Shadow count?”
Adar’s face dropped. “A Shadow? You killed one?”
Jason sighed and shot an annoyed glance at his friend. He clearly hadn’t wanted to reveal that little tidbit just yet. “It’s…complicated,” he managed. “But yes, we killed a Shadow back in Taig. Sarina noticed one of them tracking us across the city, and she helped us battle it off. We came straight here after that.”
“The Crell are searching for the cube,” Sarina said. “They’ve already come after it twice, once when they first found it and then again with the Shadow. I have a feeling they won’t stop until they get it.”
“And you brought it here?” Ria blurted out. “You didn’t say anything about that earlier.”
Sarina turned and glared at the smaller woman. “Would it have mattered? They are on the run from the Crell; this is the safest place for them to hide out.”
Ria snorted. “For them, maybe, but not for us. You said this thing vaporized a Shadow? Well, what if the Crell can track it? What if it’s leading them here right now?”
“If the Crell could track it, the Shadow would have confronted them long before they reached Taig,” Sarina pointed out. “The only reason he found them at all was because they stayed in town for a few days, and Taig isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. No, the Crell want it, but they don’t actually know where it is.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ria said, waving a hand in annoyance. “You just put a giant target on our heads without telling us ahead of time.”
“We already have a giant target on our heads,” Adar reminded her. “Lay off them for a minute—can you read it, Aidan?”
The old man twirled the cube in his hands and nodded distantly. “Yes…yes, I can.”
“What’s wrong?” Selvhara asked, placing her hand on top of his.
He looked up. “Not what I’d expect on a little cube. The translation isn’t perfect, but the gist is: “the shell of nightmares.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Then finally Tam coughed and cleared his throat.
“Well,” he murmured, “that’s definitely a cheery label.”
“What does it even mean?” Gor asked. Everyone glanced back over their shoulders to face him; most had probably forgotten the giant cat-man was even standing there.
“Knowing the Hassians, it’s probably a metaphor,” Jason reasoned, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’m just not sure for what.”
“If you destroyed a Shadow with it, then it must be some type of weapon,” Ria put in. “You’ve spent the five years digging up magical relics; haven’t you seen something similar before?”
“No,” Jason said. “But the Crell have manufactured plenty of Aether-infused weapons capable of discharging energy. They wouldn’t be so interested in this thing if that’s all it could do.”
Selvhara gripped her right hand. “It burned me when I tried to channel Aether into it. I’ve never seen anything do that before.”
“That is one curious feature,” Jason said. “The second is that the cube doesn’t belong where we found it. We were inside a tomb that pre-dated the Godswar by several centuries. Channelers didn’t exist in that era; any type of enchanted relic like this wouldn’t have existed either. And none of the Hassian tribesman should have been able to write inscriptions in Nephilese, either.”
“Perhaps someone placed it inside the tomb?” Adar suggested.
“There were no signs of entry, and the whole place was buried by centuries’ worth of accumulated dirt and rock. Traps were still in place, the most valuable set pieces were all still present…I don’t see how anyone could have slipped inside.”
“Or why they would have bothered,” Tam added.
Adar rubbed the stubble on his chin. “You can’t think of any other explanations?”
Jason shrugged helplessly, but Selvhara tossed him a meaningful glance.
“There is one possibility,” she added softly. “What if the Hassian queen who placed it there was an Immortal?”
“That doesn’t fit the timeline, either,” he replied. “Like I said, the Immortals hadn’t manifest on Obsidian yet.”
“You can’t know that for certain, and right now we don’t have any other explanation.”
“Lack of other explanations doesn’t prove anything,” Jason insisted. “We have to be missing something.”
The room fell silent for a moment, and Adar studied the younger man again. Jason had always been interested in history and academic matters, and his natural inquisitiveness had often gotten him into trouble when he had been younger. He considered himself a man of reason, and he had trouble accepting things others took for granted. Adar sympathized; he had studied the Cergar Historical Academy for a year himself before he had been forced to drop out and join the Hands of Whitestone.
“Let’s assume Selvhara’s right for the moment,” Adar suggested. “Let’s assume this Hassian queen of yours was an Immortal. That still doesn’t tell us anything about the cube, does it?”
“It might tell us everything,” Aidan whispered as he continued to twirl the metal object in his weathered hands. “If she was an Immortal, then when she died she would have left behind her memories.”
Jason scoffed. “That ‘theory’ has never been proven.”
”It happens with Ascendants today,” Aidan said. “Almost all of us here are quite familiar with the process. When King Whitestone was murdered, his memories and thoughts were absorbed by the now-Sovereign Verrator—the man who killed him. The Immortals passed on their memories to each other in the same way.”
“I understand the reasoning: the Immortals evolved as a species by passing these memories across generations, giving them a near-perfect social continuity.” Jason shrugged. “It’s just so esoteric that it’s hard to wrap your head around.”
“Maybe, but you can’t deny living proof,” Aidan told him. “Almost every civilization in the world is based on this notion. One ruler passes his or her knowledge on to the next, and so forth. That’s how the Ascendants remain; the world couldn’t function without this ability.”
“Look, I’m not really debating modern examples here,” Jason said, “but there’s a big difference between that and some random Hassian queen who died twenty-five hundred years ago. Assuming she was an Immortal, she couldn’t have died of natural causes or even age…which means that someone would have had to physically kill her. But if that happened, then why didn’t they Ascend? They should have pre-dated the first known Ascendant by centuries.”
“The Hassians wouldn’t have had any idea what to do with her powers,” Selvhara explained. “Like you’ve said yourself, there was no real magic at that time. The Aether hadn’t been introduced to the world. They would have had no idea how to interpret what was happening.”
“Hold on a minute,” Tam said, thrusting up his hands. “You’re telling that this queen’s divine soul or what whatever you want to call it is actually a physical thing? And you think it might be trapped inside that cube?”
“That is one theory,” Aidan said. “Remember that very being are actually resilient enough to handle Ascension—even today, most who try are killed in the attempt. It’s certainly plausable that whoever killed Malacross was then killed himself in the process of absorbing her power. The tribe, terrified of what had just happened, could have placed the remains inside this cube and then buried it along with their fallen leader. ‘Shell of nightmares’ seems a pretty fitting description for something capable of crushing a mind.”
The Godswar Saga (Omnibus) Page 27