Sourcethief (Book 3)

by J. S. Morin

  "Ushiqa, you may speak in front of Juliana. She is the twin of the companion I told you of," Tiiba said, speaking Kheshi.

  "Of course. I should have known the name," Ushiqa said, her voice seeming more real when it spoke words Juliana understood.

  "You are twinborn?" Juliana blurted. Her voice had recovered from the shock faster than her wits.

  "Yes, it is one of the many secrets the blade-priests know," Tiiba said. "Not all of our number are twinborn, but we often pass it down in our blood. Taking a twinborn mistress is a great boon in two senses. They are more likely to mother twinborn children of course, and—"

  "And I can put up with his blabbering about other worlds without thinking him a madman," Ushiqa joked.

  "She could, but she chooses to think me one anyway," Tiiba replied, sharing a smile with his mistress.

  "So, you must know all sorts of scandalous things about me then," Juliana ventured. She felt suddenly self-conscious in front of the woman Tiiba had so dismissively compared her to the previous day.

  "Oh, I think he cleans the stories with soap and brushes before I get to hear them. You would think that I was a princess or a delicate maiden by the way he dances around some subjects. But I'm mother to three boys who bleed dirt and hunt anything that will hold still long enough to get hit with a rock, not to mention two flowering daughters, the eldest of whom seems determined to get herself with child before she's wed and has a new boy in mind for the job twice a season," Ushiqa said. The Safschan woman gave Tiiba a playful, sidelong glare.

  "All are yours, Tiiba?" Juliana asked. The shock on her host’s face made Juliana blush, but rather than take offense, Ushiqa leaned back in her chair and laughed.

  "She's every bit the girl you told me of," Ushiqa said to Tiiba. "No highborn lass would ask such a question in any company, and no lowborn lass would risk her skin saying such a thing at all in front of a woman who might take offense."

  Tiiba smiled, nodding his agreement. "I told you as much. But yes, the children are all mine. Nihan will begin his training at the temple next season. It took me some time before I purged all the girl children from my loins and began fathering boys," Tiiba said. They all chuckled at that. Juliana could not recall ever seeing Rakashi so at ease. Tiiba was new to her, but had seemed like his twin in all other ways until now.

  "You can sleep with my girls tonight, Juliana. They share a room upstairs, in the back of the house. They can share a bed so you can have one to yourself," Ushiqa told her.

  "Thank you, but I wouldn't want to impose on your daughters," Juliana said. "I can bunk on the ship."

  "Oh, nonsense. You might do some good with those daggers you hide if some boy sneaks up to see Mushina in the night. It would not be the first time," Ushiqa said, waggling a finger.

  At once, all three perked up. A shudder had passed them by, some great rippling wave in the aether.

  "Did you feel that?" Ushiqa asked. Tiiba nodded.

  "Yes," Juliana confirmed.

  "I don't like that. The war has gotten so close of late. I've been thinking I might have to pack the children and head up to the temple," Ushiqa said.

  "No," Tiiba told her. "Keep away from cities and strongholds if you must flee. Farms and villages are best ... the wilderness if those prove unsafe."

  Juliana spooned soup into her mouth and kept quiet. She felt the guilt of being part of the side responsible for the slaughter that took place within their lands. The fact that she hated her former oathfather, the fact that it was Tiiba who had shorn clean that bond, the fact that she had sacrificed her crew and risked her safety to bring Tiiba home ... none of it made up for the fact that the Kadrin army was ransacking the whole of Safschan as she sat eating her soup.

  Another sensation caught her attention, weaker than the first. A second stirring in the aether was not far away.

  "Did you feel that one?" Juliana asked, seeing no reaction by her hosts.

  "No," both said in unison. They looked at one another and shared a simpering smile. Not now, Tiiba. Hold it together!

  "Something shook in the aether again," Juliana said. She looked to the windows at the far side of the house. The leaded glass showed nothing but glare from the light within. She shook her head, her soup beginning to feel restless in her stomach. "I don't like this."

  Tiiba pushed back his chair with a grating scrape of wood. Without a word he went to the back door of the house and opened it. It was, once again, the Rakashi she remembered, not the love-struck fool he had seemed a moment ago. She slid from her chair and joined him, some prideful part of her mind taking note that she had done so in relative silence.

  "Can you see anything?" she asked. She could see over his shoulder, but he blocked the doorway. The hilt of his rune-blade obstructed her view as well.

  "Can you not?" Tiiba replied.

  "Smoke," Ushiqa said from inside. Juliana turned to see her looking out the window, hands cupped about the sides of her eyes to shield the indoor light. Juliana turned to look skyward. It took her a moment, but she saw a star appear and disappear again, and she realized that there was a swath of stars that seemed to be missing.

  "I think I can make it out against the stars," she confirmed. "We shouldn't take a chance. Let's get out of here. Wake the children, take what you can carry and let's get to the airship before we're noticed."

  "Yes," Tiiba replied, not turning his attention from the smoky sky. "Take them. Find them somewhere safe, well east of here."

  "I know that look, Rakashi," Juliana said. "You're coming with us. You can even bring those soldiers if you hurry. Let's move." She grabbed Tiiba by his upper arm; he shook her off with an annoyed flinch. He turned then, his eyes seeking hers.

  "Keep them safe. I have to go," Tiiba said. "This is what I am." He spun and jogged out the door, heading for the stables where his men and Ushiqa's horses could be found.

  "Gather your children," Juliana ordered Ushiqa. The Safschan woman seemed oblivious as she ambled over to gaze out after the father of her children.

  "He never was much for goodbyes," Ushiqa said. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared into the night. They could hear men's voices from the darkness, the sound of horses. Juliana tugged at Ushiqa's arm, snapping her from the stupor into which she was falling.

  "Yes. Yes, the children."

  * * * * * * * *

  Tiiba's horse flew down the winding road, little more than a rutted path that led to the nearby village of Ainza. The horse, Zhi-zhi, was one Tiiba trusted to carry him bareback with just a bridle to guide her. The soldiers that had flown with him back to Safschan were less familiar with the land and their horses, and were well behind. Even if Tiiba had not known the way, Zhi-zhi did and would know the way as well in sunshine or fog.

  There were flashes of light on occasion. They were still well ahead, but he could tell for certain that they were coming from Ainza. A calm settled into him as galloping hooves shook the ground, screams and blades grew louder, and his children were being herded aboard a vessel that belonged to their enemy. Battle approached. The hands that held Zhi-zhi's reins would relax soon about the hilt of a rune-blade, the comforting feel as natural as clutching Ushiqa close. I am made for this. I will not fail.

  The tree-lined path showed glimpses of fire between the foliage. Whatever tragedy would befall Ainza, his was to be a mission of vengeance, not rescue. He was going to arrive too late to save the villagers.

  “Indreithio anamakne ubtaio wanuzar pronedook,” Tiiba chanted, taking his hands from the reins long enough to weave a stronger shield spell than he normally brought to battle. The rush of aether he felt as the spell acted through him gave him an extra measure of confidence. A palpable feeling of protection washed through him and surrounded him.

  The path opened up at the outskirts of the village where farmers had plowed the fields and harvested autumn's crops. Zhi-zhi trampled cabbage and squash vines beneath her hooves as Tiiba's eyes scanned the village for signs of the attacking force. He traced the line of
burning homes but could as yet see nothing. His milky eye, the one that saw the aether, noticed a vortex, aether disappearing into a void with no Source. Another building ignited with a crackle and a whoosh.

  Tiiba slid down from Zhi-zhi's back and gave the horse a swat on the rump, startling her away. There was no point in dooming the beast as well. The rune-blade found its way into Tiiba's hand without a conscious thought. Instinct, training, rote repetition, he had only his adversary to consider, all else was a part of himself. The blade would obey his mind as well as his hands and feet.

  He went into a low crouch, keeping the latest of the burning buildings between him and the converging aether. That had to be where the demon was. Unfortunately, he was not remaining stationary.

  "Hello," a cheery voice called to him in passable Safschan. "You ought not to go sneaking about with a Source like yours. It demeans you and does little to conceal your location."

  Tiiba saw past flames and smoke to the image that had played itself in his mind a hundred times. The demon looked much like his son, but paler, slighter. Rashan Solaran carried himself like one with a hobbyist's casual interest in battle, betraying neither fear, nor tension, nor focus.

  Tiiba advanced, unsure how to close the gap to bring his blade to bear. A creature such as the Kadrin demon would not fall prey to a simple headlong rush as would most opponents. He seemed to be in a talkative mood. Tiiba was not above deception.

  "I am Tiiba of the Blade," he gave his formal title.

  "I think you know already who I am. I can tell by the fear in you," the demon replied. He held a serrated blade in hand, dragging the tip in the dirt.

  "I have no fear of death, demon, I—"

  "Of course not. I was not implying that you did. You fear for them," Rashan said, he turned to point to the village inn. On the upper floor there were faces pressed to the windows, watching their fate being decided below.

  "You are truly the monster they say you are!" Tiiba goaded. He kept to his slow advance, thinking to catch Rashan Solaran at a distance he could fight from before the demon realized his peril.

  "If you want to save them, give me a reason," the demon said. Tiiba stopped and swallowed back a lump in his throat. Rashan Solaran had spoken the last in fluent Takalish.

  "Ah, I think you understand me," Rashan continued, obviously taking note of Tiiba's reaction. The demon smiled at him.

  "I do," Tiiba replied, still using Safschan. He was unsure of the demon's ploy, but he knew he could not allow himself to be distracted. Rashan the Deceiver. Rashan's Bargain. Tiiba knew his history.

  "Well, now before you decide, put away that blade. I have a rather stern policy against sparing creatures who offer me harm. I make no exceptions. None, not even for dragons," Rashan promised. As a show of faith, the demon sheathed his blade.

  "Decide on what?" Tiiba asked. He lowered his rune-blade but did not return it to its sheath.

  "On whether I should spare the rest of Safschan."

  "You can decide that any time you like, demon," Tiiba yelled back. His hand itched to bring his rune-blade to bear. Some wiser part of him held his hands in check. There was something odd about the demon's manner. Could this be his legendary trickery at work? Has he found the weakness in my thoughts' armor? Why can I not see this clearly for the ruse it must be?

  "I have a task for you, if you know how to use a half-spear as well as that runed blade." Rashan crossed his arms, the statement was a challenge.

  "It is the same weapon. You clearly know that, or you would not have known to ask," Tiiba said. He felt his breath coming quicker. He was trapped between instinct and logic. Victory, his blood told him, would render the decision moot. Failure, he knew, would spell doom for the village and who knew how much more of Safschan. Delay and parlay bought time. But time for what?

  "Yes, but are you the same man to wield it?"

  "I am."

  "A friendly contest then," Rashan said, already drawing his wicked blade. "Prove to me you are worth my effort to spare and sleep in a peaceful land tonight." Rashan sprang forward, forcing Tiiba to retreat a step to set his parry.

  Rashan launched a series of wild, looping slashes. The attacks would have been comically inept if not for the speed and power behind the strikes. Tiiba angled his parries, ducking and diverting rather than attempting to meet force with force. He moved about the blade like its fulcrum, using the leverage of the demon's strikes to quicken his step.

  "Oh, you are good," Rashan marveled, clearly impressed with his skills. "If you are this good in the other world, I think you shall do quite well."

  The demon quickened the pace of his attacks. The looping, lazy swings that carried the weight of ogres behind them became a fencer's measured strikes, snapping smartly from parry to riposte. There was no loss of power behind the cuts and thrusts however. Tiiba tried to keep an offense to blunt his foe's onslaught, but there was simply no opening. He worked his blade in a frenzy just to keep the demon's sword at bay.

  "Simply remarkable," Rashan said, stepping back suddenly. The demon's blade disappeared into its sheath like a cat retracts its claws. "Aside from resisting the temptation to use magic, I was actually giving my best effort there."

  Tiiba did not mirror his opponent's lowered defenses. He kept his rune-blade tight in both hands, sweat wetting the leather-wrapped handle. His breath was coming heavy from his frantic defense, but he was by no means spent. He took a step toward the demon.

  "Careful. Another step and I may reconsider my largess," Rashan said. Tiiba stopped in his tracks. "I could have them picking bits of you out of those trees over yonder. Do not mistake your swordsmanship for being my equal in battle. Put that blade away and I will spare you, and this town, at least conditionally."

  "What condition is that?" Tiiba asked. The rush of battle was beginning to fade. The pounding his muscles had taken against the demon's blows was starting to sink in. His rune-blade began to feel heavier than the weighted practice blades he had used as a lad.

  "Put the blade away, then I will tell you," the demon said, daring to turn his back on Tiiba. Every instinct told him to bury his blade in the defenseless opponent he saw before him. No. He is far from defenseless. His very body is a ruse. Not even a shielding spell protected the demon, but Rashan Solaran was also a warlock and likely watching his movements in the aether. Tiiba forced himself to put his rune-blade back in its sheath.

  "Where are you in Tellurak right now?" Rashan asked.

  Tiiba said nothing. A long moment passed.

  "I have a job for you there and I would like to know how soon you might get to it. If you would rather I go back to destroying your homeland, so be it."

  "I am in Acardia," Tiiba admitted. "I am a traveling scholar and warrior. Much of my time is spent away from my home."

  Rashan grinned. "Excellent. I have a task for you."

  Chapter 13 - Invitation to a Lair

  Kyrus became a mass of thought, bodiless in the deep aether. His frequent trips across Kadris had accustomed his eyes to what was no longer a weird, alien landscape. The aether had patterns and habits that were becoming plain for him to see.

  To flee Denku Appa he had tried the navigators' way, plotting a heading and figuring on a distance. If he was inaccurate, he was not worried about missing the landmass upon which Acardia and Hurlan rested; close was close enough.

  Now Kyrus ignored the heading he would need. He went up instead, to view his destination from afar before he ever left. Devoid of form to hold him back, there was no sensation of the vertical. He tried to latch onto some feeling of vertigo as the Sources that dwelt close to the ground fell away. With no bodily sensation, neither stomach to clench nor head to lose blood, the sickened feeling could not take hold of him. The people in the streets, their animals, the paths they trod, and the wakes of aether left by their passing, all shone to Kyrus's aether-vision. Hazy, muddied streets took form because of the trails of aether left by mortal traffic.

  The higher he went, the mor
e of Kadrin he could see. Kadris was a huge blot on the landscape. Podawei Wood emerged as a haze of floral aether. To the north and east, the subtle blue shading of the aether hinted that it was not of animal origin. Ailen Point became a dollop to the west and Pevett, Marmet and Farfield came into relief as well. Kyrus had studied maps of Koriah and the lands beyond the Aliani. The wider his field of vision grew, the more like the maps the world below became. Rivers, hills and mountains were all but indistinguishable, but cities, forests and even roads stood out plainly enough.

  Kyrus drifted along at altitudes that he doubted any airship captain would dare. The "drift" came at speeds that would tear sails to tatters, and shake wooden hulls to splinters. From his frame of reference though, he felt no faster than a lazing cloud.

  He paused to steel himself when he came to Megrenn, facing the daunting task of setting off above the sea. The Kadrins were no great seafaring people. Their maps were a poor and suspect collection. He had seen the most excellent maps aboard the Fair Trader though, and knew the layout of Tellurak by memory. It was time to test how well Veydrus and Tellurak truly matched. Kyrus kept Koriah within his sights as he ventured over the Aliani Sea, heading to the north and west. His fantastical velocity brought his discovery in moments.

  Acardia.

  Azzat.

  The landmass looked like moth-eaten cloth. The barren, rocky countryside was stark and nearly invisible in the aether. The northern hemisphere of Veydrus was approaching winter just as Kadrins looked forward to the onset of summer. The hardy evergreens still glowed, but where crops and deciduous plants grew, Sources slept. The cities were not entirely where Kyrus had expected. Azzat was scarcely on a foreign map, so jealously did its dwellers guard their privacy. History and chance had guided the demon-ruled kingdom along a different path than the one that Acardia had trodden. Where would a demon live?

  It would be impossible to reason out fully in his head. Kyrus decided to choose a place at random and find his way from there. There was a concentration of aether that was larger than the others, though only by degree. If the easternmost tip lay where Scar Harbor was in Tellurak, then Azzat's largest city must have been near Golis, or perhaps a bit further upriver. Kyrus headed for it.