The Godswar Saga (Omnibus)

by Jennifer Vale

  A flicker of movement from deeper inside the stables caught her eye, and she tilted up her head to see Elade step out from behind one of the horses. Selvhara hadn’t even heard the other woman, but she was holding a brush and had clearly been using it.

  “Elu shala,” Selvhara whispered. “I didn’t expect that anyone else would be down here.”

  “I scared the rest of them off,” the vaeyn replied with a tight smile. But despite the levity in her words, there was an awkward stiffness behind them. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

  “Yes, I feel…better,” Selvhara managed. “I assumed you would be with the other knights and Adar.”

  “I was, but apparently they’re not interested in my help. So instead I’m down here.”

  Selvhara frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “They ordered me back to the Citadel,” Elade grumbled. “I refused, and Lavonde and his cronies aren’t happy about it.”

  “That makes no sense. Why would they wish you to leave? Tevek was quite adamant that you stay.”

  “Exactly,” the vaeyn muttered as she turned back to her horse. “I don’t know how much he’s told you, but I’m not exactly popular with the rest of the Knight-Lords. And now that Tevek can’t stick up for me, his subordinates have decided to sweep me aside.”

  “Ah,” Selvhara murmured, nodding in understanding. “Once he has his powers back, he will set the others straight.”

  “That’s the going theory,” Elade said, vigorously brushing at the stallion’s mane. “But a lot can happen between then and now.”

  Selvhara stepped in closer to the beast. “The knights possess many virtues, but they are still human. Their prejudices run deep.”

  “I suspect you have plenty of first-hand experience.”

  “I have never been to the Citadel, but I have met many paladins over the years. Few of them were as accepting as Tevek.” Selvhara paused and eyed the younger woman. She had shed her light armor, and the Aetheric glyphs spiraling down her right arm glimmered beneath a sheen of sweat. “Still, none of us are immune to simple bigotry. I admit that when Tevek told me he was tutoring a vaeyn, I was…skeptical.”

  Elade glanced back over her shoulder. “I suppose I can’t blame you. I know my people don’t exactly have a sterling reputation in Calhara…or anywhere else.”

  “Perhaps not, but you are not your people,” Selvhara said. “You are Elade, and I apologize for judging you.”

  The vaeyn grunted. “You’ve barely said two words to me. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “I offer one anyway.” Selvhara stepped forward and offered the other woman her hand. “You protected these people, and for that you have my thanks.”

  Elade touched her hand, and Selvhara smiled. As hollow and empty as she felt right now, it had been an age since she had spoken with one of her own kind, faeyn or vaeyn. She suddenly longed to be back in the forests of Sorthaal away from human scheming and politics…but she knew she could never return. Not because her people wouldn’t accept her back—they almost certainly would—but because Selvhara knew she no longer belonged among them. She had cast her lot with the humans many decades ago, and she couldn’t turn away from them now. Not while they still needed her…not while Jason still needed her.

  Distantly, Selvhara wondered what his revelations meant about the nature of the faeyn. Were they really part Immortal, as the legends claimed? Or were they something else entirely?

  “You don’t need to thank me for doing my job,” Elade said. “I just wish I had been at the compound to stop Kroll sooner.”

  Selvhara winced despite herself, and her thoughts returned to the present. “I don’t know what you could have done. None of us expected him to have this power. He could have broken you as well…”

  Elade abruptly glanced away, and Selvhara frowned. Even without her magic, she could sense the sudden shift in the other woman’s emotions.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Elade pursed her lips. “Kroll did try to sever my bond. He couldn’t.”

  Selvhara frowned. “You resisted? How?”

  Before she could answer, the sound of heavy footfalls approached from the stairs behind them. A few moments later the door swung open, and Sir Lavonde and two other Knights of the Last Dawn strode inside. His eyes were locked on Elade, and his lips were curled into a faint but unmistakable smug smile.

  “Dame Devarath, by order of Highlord Alric, I order you to surrender your weapon and submit to the judgment of the Conclave.”

  “What?” Selvhara gasped, stepping between the two of them. “What are you talking about?”

  Lavonde glanced down as if noticing her for the first time. “This is an internal matter and none of your concern, druid. Step aside.”

  “I already told you I’m not going anywhere until I receive orders from the Highlord,” Elade said. “The real Highlord, not the pretender.”

  “I doubt that Highlord Dracian will give anyone orders again,” Lavonde said stiffly. “I think you know why.”

  Elade flinched, and her eyes flicked to the side in concentration. She was probably receiving the same orders telepathically from the Conclave, Selvhara assumed.

  “At least they had the guts to talk to me themselves this time,” the vaeyn murmured.

  “What is going on?” Selvhara asked. “What happened to Tevek.”

  “It’s not about Tevek—it’s about me,” Elade said. “Kroll couldn’t sever my bond because there’s no bond to sever. I am Unbound.”

  Selvhara wasn’t sure if she actually gasped, but her jaw dropped open and her mouth went dry. Suddenly Tevek’s fascination with this woman made even more sense. Ever since the siege at Fort Isen all those years ago, he had made it his personal mission to try and harbor innocent Unbound whenever he found them. The problem, of course, was that the Dawn still demonized them just as badly as the Solarians, perhaps even worse. And if they knew that Tevek had been secretly training and harboring one of them for years…

  “The Solarian interrogators picked the truth from Kroll’s mind,” Elade went on, “and now the Conclave wants me to report back to the Citadel for questioning.”

  “What I don’t understand is why you left that Crell slug alive,” Lavonde said, shaking his head. His smile, notably, hadn’t gone anywhere. “If you had just let him die, we never would have known the truth.”

  Selvhara whipped her head up and glared at him. “Do you even hear yourself talk, paladin?” she asked. “This woman did the right thing, and now you’re blaming her for it?”

  “The right thing would have been telling the Conclave about her taint the instant she arrived at the Citadel,” Lavonde growled, “but instead Highlord Dracian decided to take pity on a creature of darkness.”

  “This ‘creature of darkness’ is the only reason the Zarul didn’t get their hands on a divine spark,” Selvhara said. “Perhaps your Conclave should consider the facts before blindly jumping to conclusions.”

  The man scoffed. “Maeleon’s Code is quite clear. Not that I would expect a child of Anvira to understand. You don’t belong here, elysian, any more than this fraud.”

  Elade placed an arm on Selvhara’s shoulder. “You should go upstairs with the others. I can deal with—”

  “Highlord Dracian clearly trusts this woman, and he knows her better than any of you,” Selvhara went on, shaking free and stepping right up to Lavonde’s breastplate. “She has done great deeds in Maeleon’s name. Whether or not she’s Unbound makes no difference.”

  “This is an internal matter of the Dawn,” Lavonde said coldly. “Your approval is neither relevant nor required. Now step aside before I lose my temper.”

  “A Knight of the Last Dawn is really going to strike an old woman?”

  “I don’t need to strike you, but you will move out of the way.”

  His palm flashed with magic, and Selvhara felt something nudge against her arm—

  And then suddenly Elade’s sabre flas
hed between them, and Lavonde actually hopped backwards out of the way. “You will not touch her,” the vaeyn said.

  The other two knights drew their swords, but Lavonde just grunted. “Are you threatening me, Dame Devarath?”

  “It’s not a threat,” Elade said. “It’s a statement of fact.”

  For a moment, the man just glared at her, but eventually his smile returned and he even chuckled. “How quaint—the Highlord’s elf concubines are sticking up for one another.” He made a show of lowering his hand to the pommel of his blade. “My standing orders are to bring you back to the Citadel by any means necessary. I suggest you hand over your sword. Now.”

  Elade shrugged. “Which one of you wants to try and take it first?”

  “This is absurd,” Selvhara breathed, stepping between them again. “You are Knights of the Last Dawn!”

  “We are, yes,” Lavonde said. “Lord Alric was right about this one all along. She is a festering wound in the order, and her taint has already begun to spread to others.”

  For a moment, Selvhara actually thought Elade might strike. But then abruptly her posture relaxed, and she lowered her sword.

  “I’m not your enemy, no matter what you want to believe,” she whispered. “I will return to the Citadel, but only on one condition: if I turn myself in and accept the Conclave’s judgment, the Highlord will be cleared of any complicity. He shouldn’t be punished for what I am.”

  “He lied to the Conclave!” Lavonde growled. “He willingly violated the Code for almost five years. Any other knight would be banished for such a crime. For the Highlord to commit such sacrilege is…unthinkable!”

  “Highlord Dracian is the most celebrated Knight of the Last Dawn in generations,” Selvhara said. “Ask any member of your Conclave right now what they owe him. Let each of them recount how many times he has personally saved their lives. Ask them how many favors he is owed by rulers across Obsidian.”

  Lavonde’s expression sunk, if only a bit. “None of that absolves him of his crime, and I will not be lectured to by someone outside the order.”

  Selvhara crossed her arms. “I am a servant of the Goddess Anvira, fellow member of the Triumvirate. I am a friend and ally of more paladins than you have years, child. Why don’t you ask Lord Alric how he enjoys walking on his left leg or seeing out of his right eye? He owes both to me.”

  Lavonde actually retreated another step. He clearly hadn’t expected anyone to defend Elade, and he just as clearly hadn’t expected an old woman to stand up to him. For all their virtues, Knights of the Last Dawn had a tendency to develop rather large egos, especially the young men. They believed they were the chosen protectors of the world, and they couldn’t understand how any right-minded individual would ever question them or disagree with their opinion. Thankfully most of them eventually grew out of it, and the best of them skipped that phase entirely. She could tell by the startled expressions on the other two knight’s faces that they hadn’t yet entered that phase themselves, and with luck maybe they never would.

  “All I ask is that they consider the Highlord’s service before judging him,” Selvhara said. “And you should do the same for this noble woman as well.”

  Lavonde glanced between the two women, and his forehead creased as he undoubtedly received telepathic instructions from his superiors. “Very well. The Conclave will show a measure of leniency.”

  “Making a promise from thousands of miles away is easy.” Elade said. “I want your word right here that Tevek will not be banished from the Dawn.”

  Lavonde took a deep breath and then nodded. “You have my word as a Knight of the Last Dawn.”

  Elade paused briefly, then slid her sword back into its sheath and unbuckled her scabbard. She tossed it into one of the other paladin’s arms and then let out a deep sigh.

  “When do we leave?”

  “You will depart at first light tomorrow,” Lavonde told her. “For now, I want you to stay where I can see you.” He gestured to the men, and one of them placed a leading hand on her shoulder.

  Once the door shut behind them, Selvhara closed her eyes and let out a tired sigh. As if losing her own powers wasn’t enough, now there was a very real chance that Tevek wouldn’t be able to get his back, either. And if the Crell sent another “Breaker” after them without Elade here to defend the compound…

  She shook her head. Jason and the others needed to know what was going on, and then they needed to speak with Adar and pray the situation didn’t spiral any further out of control. One way or another, she had a feeling they would be forced to flee Lyebel very soon.

  The problem was that they had nowhere else to go.

  Chapter Seven

  “One way or another, your secrets will destroy this family.”

  -Elissa Moore to her husband, 1997 AG

  Adar listened patiently as Jason gave him an abridged version of his experiences. As Sarina had tersely reminded him earlier, the rebel leader probably wasn’t going to care about half of what Malacross had revealed, but he did need to hear the part about how Jason couldn’t empower Bound. And once the words left Jason’s mouth, the temperature in the room seemed to drop about twenty degrees.

  “I’m no expert on Aether or channelers,” Adar murmured, holding a near-empty glass of greenish liquid in his hand, “but maybe you just haven’t learned how to control this power yet.”

  “It has nothing to do with control,” Jason said. “The cube wasn’t holding a divine spark, at least not as we’ve come to think about them. Malacross cannot grant anyone else the ability to channel, and neither can I.”

  “You’ve been awake for what, a couple of hours?” Ria put in. “Maybe you just need some time.”

  Jason sighed in frustration. “Time doesn’t matter. You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand just fine,” she replied, half-scowling at him as usual. “You were always the type to cut and run the moment things got tough, and now you’re doing it again.”

  “Ria…” Adar murmured. “Just relax and let him speak.”

  Her face twisted in annoyance, and Jason closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into his temples. This conversation was frustrating enough, but he was finding it difficult to stay focused. The incessant telepathic “noise” of stray thoughts and emotions continued to flood into his mind, and he had no idea how to block them all out. The power had gradually intensified since he had awakened, and now he was picking up stray bits of private conversations and random thoughts from dozens of different people across the compound.

  Before, he had been able to specifically pick out the thoughts of his friends, and he had found that disconcerting for a whole host of reasons. But standing here now, the mental deluge had become a wild jumble of nonsense…and he wasn’t sure if that was an improvement. It felt like something was trying to crawl its way out of his skull, and if he couldn’t get a handle on this soon, he was going to snap.

  “Like I warned you earlier, it’s difficult to explain,” he managed, opening his eyes again. He was dizzy, and he had to steady himself on the back of a nearby chair. Sarina must have noticed his discomfort; she slid up behind him and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “But the point is that I can’t help you, not in the way you were hoping. It might even be best for me to get out of the city to take some of the pressure off you. If it’s any consolation, the Crell were completely wrong about this thing, too. They also believed the cube was something it’s not.”

  “Consolation?” Ria hissed. “Ten of our soldiers are dead, Jason. Ten people, killed for absolutely no reason at all.”

  Jason bit his lip and turned away. “I didn’t know what the cube was, and you were the only people I could turn to. I’m sorry—it was obviously a mistake to bring it here.”

  “You’re sorry?” Adar asked, his voice disturbingly calm. “You’re sorry?”

  “I know it’s not much, but—”

  “It’s nothing!” the man nearly screamed as he leapt out of his seat. His anger
was so sudden and so intense that everyone in the room seemed to retreat a step. Adar held his glare on Jason for several long, awkward seconds before he finally burst into a bizarre cackle. It was awkward, forced, and bitter; it was the dark humor of a beleaguered man who might have finally snapped.

  “At least they died fighting Crell,” Sarina whispered. “And we captured one of their new Imperators. Maybe the Solarians can learn enough from him to block this new channeling technique.”

  “Wouldn’t that be wonderful,” Adar muttered, his head still shaking. “Except for the fact that we don’t have any channelers, remember? And apparently we’re never going to.”

  “It could still make a difference in the war,” she pointed out. “The Alliance won’t stand a chance if the Crell can sever the bonds of all their priests.”

  “Fuck the Alliance,” Ria snarled. “They don’t care about us and they never have. When are you going to figure that out?”

  Sarina stepped in front of Jason, her jaw tight. “They sent priests, didn’t they? With the reinforcements we can finally take the battle to the Crell.”

  “And how exactly are we going to do that?” Adar asked. “We have two dozen Alliance soldiers and a handful of priests. Lyebel has a standing garrison of over a thousand soldiers and close to a hundred Imperators.”

  Jason grimaced. A part of him felt guilty both for bringing this cube to their doorstep and for effectively abandoning them all those years ago. But for some reason, his remorse wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been even just a few days ago.

  “You’ve managed just fine with less so far,” he said. “I’m sorry I got your hopes up, but you obviously had a plan before I dropped the cube in your lap. Now you have a squad of trained soldiers and channelers at your disposal—if you ask me, you’re better off now than you were before.”