Revealed: The Taellaneth - Book 2

by Vanessa Nelson

  “Here we are.” Matthias got out of the vehicle. Arrow blinked, looking again.

  “Here?”

  “There’s a workspace and plenty of room.” Matthias opened her door, “Do you have the keys?”

  Arrow stared at him for a moment before digging the set of keys out of her satchel. She followed Matthias to the building’s front door, between the workshop and residential halves, and watched as the key she had been given fitted and turned in the lock. The building wards, old and strong, lay dormant, waiting to be woken.

  “For me?” She heard the waver in her voice and swallowed, hard. Matthias nodded, handing her the keys, looking past her, expression changing. Arrow did not need to turn to know that Tamara had arrived.

  “Heard you’ve had a tough day,” Tamara said. She was wearing a similar black outfit to Matthias, skin dark enough to blend into the shadows, her smile as warm as Arrow remembered. Impossible not to smile back. “Brought you some clothes, which I think should fit, and some other bits you might need. And I’ll bet Matt forgot to stop for food, so there’s some takeaway to keep you going.”

  “Thank you.” Arrow reached for the pair of heavy bags Tamara was carrying, stopped by Matthias, who took the bags inside. Tamara grinned after her mate.

  “Yeah, thought he’d forget food. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Thank you,” she said again. “First light?”

  “Here. Place is yours as long as you need it.” Matthias handed her the keys for the building and another set of keys that looked like they were for a vehicle. “There’s a car in the garage if you need it. Heating’s on, and the services are all connected. If you need anything, there’s a phone in the bag Tamara brought with our numbers programmed in.”

  “Thank you.” Her brain was stuck on those two words. She got a brief nod from Matthias and a warm smile from Tamara before the pair left with no fuss and Arrow finally moved, stepping through the front door. Hers. As long as she needed it.

  Once inside, door locked, she followed her nose to the kitchen where Matthias had left the bags. Clothes, and various items Tamara clearly thought she would need, in one. Arrow frowned at the unfamiliar names on plastic bottles. Shampoo. Shower gel. Other things that made her frown in puzzlement. They did not hold her attention long. The second bag contained enough food for a family of hungry ‘kin. And coffee.

  She ate standing up in a kitchen roughly the size of her residence at the Taellaneth, three walls taken up with cupboards, drawers, shelves and various appliances, a table and chairs pushed against the last wall next to the door. Everything was a little worn around the edges. Scuff marks on the floor and table surface, the cupboards and drawer fronts once pristine white now yellowing. But the lights were bright overhead, the appliances hummed with electrical power, and it was clean.

  Full of food and coffee, her curiosity reasserted itself and she set to exploring the building. Hers. She touched the walls as she walked, feeling the painted plaster rough and real under her fingertips. Hers.

  The place was far larger than she would ever need. There was an upper floor of mostly bare rooms, and a whole residence’s worth of rooms downstairs including a furnished bedroom with a bathroom attached that provided hot water immediately when she turned a tap. Like the kitchen, the furniture was not new, but solid and serviceable.

  She lost all interest in the other rooms when she opened the plain door along a short corridor from the kitchen finding the light switch just beside the door. The space behind the door was easily as big as the rest of the downstairs, one large room with a high ceiling broken by skylights that would let in plenty of daylight, a large rolling metal door at one end in front of which sat a vehicle, one of the sleek armoured vehicles that the ‘kin favoured. The floor was polished concrete and apart from the vehicle it was dominated by a pair of long, high, workbenches that reminded her of the ones in the Potions classroom at the Academy, set at a height to work while standing. The floor bore stains and scars from a previous tenant, overhead lights protected by cages and more warding spells.

  Arrow could not tell who had used this space before, or for what purpose, but the thought it was hers for now made her sit abruptly on the cold floor, disbelieving gaze taking in the extent of the space, unexpected laughter rising in her. This was hers. Hers. There was shelving and cupboards and lights overhead and heat and electricity and an industrial sized fridge at one corner and it was enormous. More space than she had ever had to herself in her life. Hers. A space to work. A space to prepare spells. Things that had been forbidden under the Taellan’s oath and command. To make potions to restore her strength after spellwork. Potions to heal. To practice. To experiment.

  Laughter bubbled up and she clamped her hands over her mouth, not wanting to be heard, before she remembered that this was her space, and a space adapted for ‘kin with sound proofing in every surface. She dropped her hands and laughed, then scrambled to her feet, running her hands along the workbenches. Hers. There was even space for a burner at one end of the most heavily scarred bench. Hers.

  Tilting her head up she assessed the height and strength of the room, smile pulling her mouth again. Hers.

  The faint pull of the wards at the back of her mind caught her attention. They were beautifully crafted, old and in need of renewal. Something she could do before she slept.

  She pulled chalk out of her satchel and set to work.

  ˜

  Pleasantly tired from securing the building, she was debating between eating more food, trying to work out how to use the coffee machine, adjusting her own wards or going to sleep, and still with that bubble of laughter inside that she had simple choices of what to do with her time. The building’s wards flared, altering her to someone approaching the door. Abandoning the coffee, sword still strapped across her back, she reached the door just was someone knocked from the other side.

  “Good evening to you, mage.” Kallish looked very pleased with herself.

  “Did you plant a tracking device on me?” Arrow demanded.

  “No,” the warrior was offended by the suggestion, “Orlis read the address on the lease.”

  “Of course he did. What do you want, svegraen?” Arrow fought to keep her tone even and pleasant.

  “We’ve been assigned to you.” Orlis’ voice piped up and Arrow realised that Kallish had brought her entire cadre and Orlis with her. Kallish nodded, confirming Orlis’ statement.

  “I see.” Arrow stepped aside, shoulders bowing. “Accommodation is basic,” she warned the warriors as they stepped past.

  “Very good wards, mage,” the warrior commented, her cadre following. A rare compliment that would normally make her smile, she set her jaw to stop a hasty retort.

  The cadre fanned out, making a swift, thorough, inspection of the whole building. Arrow was dismayed to see that many of them carried packs with them, with bedrolls attached. They were planning to stay a while.

  “We brought food,” Kallish noted, “but it seems you have eaten.”

  “The ‘kin.” Arrow went past the warrior and gathered the bag of clothes and her satchel from the kitchen. “You are welcome to the rest. I was about to sleep.”

  “That is sensible.” Kallish tasted something from one of the packages Tamara had left and her eyes widened slightly.

  Drawn by the scent of food, the warriors returned from their swift inspection and slid past Arrow into the kitchen. She stood in the corridor outside and watched the cadre and Orlis settle into her space, her arms folded around the soft lump of clothes and the harder shape of the satchel. Sleep. She needed sleep.

  On that thought she turned and went to the only furnished bedroom, wondering briefly if she should offer it to Kallish as the most senior present. She paused in the doorway, shoulders bowed and drew a breath.

  “We will keep watch.” Kallish’s voice startled her. Looking up, she found the warrior standing just outside the kitchen, expression hard to read. Sympathy. Understanding. Something else. Arrow blinked, to
o tired to work out all the meaning in the direct gaze the warrior sent her way.

  “Thank you, svegraen.”

  She closed the door with careful quiet and took her time unpacking the clothes and other items Tamara had left, making sure her satchel was near to hand, settling her sword harness with deliberate care on a chair beside the bed. The deliberate movements did not help. Her mind was still unsettled, too much clamouring for attention in her head. Then she caught another sniff of her clothing and remembered the blood and dirt. Finally, something she could deal with.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Matthias and the half dozen armed ‘kin with him barely blinked when she met them outside the building in the pre-dawn quiet, an entire cadre of White Guard, braids done and armoured coats in place, and Orlis, dressed in another set of his travel clothes, in her wake. She felt quite under-dressed in the casual human-made clothes Tamara had so generously provided, hasty wards still settling into the fabric as a faint itch against her skin.

  “It’s close enough to walk,” Matthias said by way of greeting, and indicated direction with a wave of one hand. She fell into step beside him, the cadre flowing into place around them as though they accompanied an exiled mage and shifkin every day, some of the warriors exchanging quiet nods with the ‘kin. An unheard-of sign of cordiality between Erith and ‘kin.

  “Pa’s on his way back from Hallveran,” Matthias offered.

  “The gang is dealt with?” She dragged her mind away from the cadre, relations between the ‘kin and Erith, focusing instead on the unhappy situation in Hallveran.

  “Idiots.” Matthias’ voice lowered, anger raising the hairs on Arrow’s neck. “Kept fighting almost to the last one. The city’s mayor is furious.”

  “Were any bystanders injured?”

  “No. No one apart from the gang. And a few of the muster, but they’ll heal.” Shifkin healed at a remarkable rate, Arrow knew, and accepted Matthias’ better knowledge of his people. There would be no lasting harm to the muster. Matthias growled, frustration and fury combined. “Mayor seemed to think he had the gang under control. Nicely contained, he said.”

  “Surely he did not believe that?”

  “Seemed to. He won’t be mayor much longer. There’s an election soon, and a lot of what he said went public.” Anger had been replaced by quiet satisfaction. The ‘kin had been responsible for the information becoming public knowledge, she guessed. The humans in Hallveran valued their peace, particularly after so much trouble.

  “Did the gang have much to say?”

  “Nothing. We couldn’t find Charon and none of the rest seemed to know anything. Justin’s keeping an eye on things.” Matthias glanced across, ‘kin power strong in his eyes, “We’re keeping an eye out for Charon. He’s probably holed up somewhere around Hallveran.”

  Arrow shivered slightly, remembering the few glimpses she had caught of the Two Snakes’ leader in Hallveran. A slightly-built human male, with pale hair cut close to his skull, and a flat stare that had made her want to run and hide, even from a distance. She had no difficulty in picturing him as someone who would use explosive collars to subdue his victims. But neither Charon or his gang had magic. They could not have created the suppressor collars. That meant an Erith magician was involved. Probably the same one who had summoned surjusi. She felt a chill across her skin, disturbed by the idea that the powerful magician, skilled in forbidden magic, had come across the most notorious gang leader in Hallveran. It was not a pleasant combination. There was the possibility of another person wanting her dead. Many among the Erith came to mind. And yet she could not imagine any of them conspiring with humans, and human criminals at that. Very few Erith came into contact with humans, and she could not imagine how any Erith magician would form such close ties with humans to provide them with the sort of magic that had been used.

  Unclean magic, she reminded herself. If the magician had been working with Charon, she could not afford to be distracted and dragged her attention back to the here and now.

  Matthias led them out of the residential area, early morning quiet enough to let the unusual group pass unnoticed through the human city. They took a few turns until they reached the edge of the city, where an old, long-abandoned, industrial complex marked the city’s boundary, looming out of the darkness, view not improved by the first rays of sun cutting across it. Across from the industrial buildings was open land. Shifkin land, used by the local muster, the faint traces of border wards visible as Arrow opened her second sight a fraction.

  “What made you suspicious of this place?” she asked Matthias.

  “It’s sticky with static and doesn’t feel right,” Matthias answered, expression grim as he turned his attention to the buildings. Closest to them was a large central office building with broken windows, the brickwork being taken over by plants. At the far side was a brick-built warehouse, old wooden doors firmly shut, the structure intact as far as she could tell.

  Taking a deep breath, she drew in the taste of forest and wild she associated with the ‘kin, the weapons oil and spice of Erith, and the ugly burn of dark magic. Opening her second sight further showed the warehouse crawling with wards, newly created and powerful, drawn by the same hand that had created the spells on Farraway Mountain and in Hallveran.

  “The same magician that summoned in Hallveran has been here,” she told Matthias. He nodded once, face set. Not pleased at having his suspicions confirmed.

  “Where do we start?”

  “The office building seems empty, but there are active wards on the warehouse. I do not know if it is occupied.”

  “Why is it always warehouses?” Matthias sighed, checking his weapons. The ‘kin came to alert around him, and, taking that cue, the Erith stirred, preparing for battle.

  “Big, empty spaces protected from the elements with no ground-level windows for passers-by to see inside,” Arrow answered, and flushed when he shot her a sideways glance. “But you knew that.”

  His face lightened in a smile before he turned to Kallish.

  “Ready?”

  There was no challenge in the word. The warrior’s shoulders squared, eyes glinting, mouth curving in a fierce line.

  “We are always ready. Lead on.”

  Erith battle wards came alive around the group as they made their way to the large wooden doors. There was a gleaming steel chain and padlock around pair of old iron handles, holding the doors closed. Arrow put her hand on the padlock, focusing.

  “No active magic. No destructive wards. If you give me a moment I should be able to unlock it.”

  “No need.” Matthias nodded to one of his people who produced a long, savage instrument that severed the chain with ease. A pair of ‘kin took one handle each and Kallish drew Arrow to one side, out of view of the doors as they opened.

  The door opening was anti-climactic. No one shot at them. No dark magic coiled out of the building to overwhelm them. Instead an all too familiar stench of decay and dark magic slithered out into the morning air.

  Arrow opened her senses, grimacing at the coils of magic she found. Not as old as the underground space, this place had nonetheless been used for some time. A secondary location for the magician in Lix. She hoped that there were no more.

  Shifkin and White Guard flowed into the building, moving with quiet, deadly purpose, and she followed, a silent Orlis at her side, still within the battle wards. Matthias was leading the ‘kin, Kallish and Xeveran nearby.

  Unlike the underground, this was not an open space but had been divided by head-height wooden partitions, many sagging with age, making a series of bays on either side of a central walkway wide enough for a large vehicle to drive through. Some of the bays they passed were heaped with what looked like bits or rock, sand, and ore. The ‘kin and White Guard investigated each one as they passed, the growing daylight through the skylights above making their jobs far easier.

  “The smell,” Orlis whispered, a hand over his nose. Under his brilliant hair and freckles he was an unheal
thy colour, sweat beading on his brow.

  “It will only get worse,” she told him. “You may wish to wait at the doors.”

  “I will manage.” He set his jaw, rummaging in his bag for something, producing a small, clay pot. Pulling out the stopper he released a welcome scent of fresh green growth that cut through the stench. He dabbed a tiny amount across his upper lip, offering some to Arrow. She shook her head.

  “My senses are not as keen as yours.”

  “A blessing in this place,” he commented, stowing the pot away again.

  Moments later, Kallish came back to them, face grim.

  “There is no one here. No one alive, anyway.” She jerked her chin towards the back. “Some bodies. Human.”

  “Any sign the magician has been here recently?”

  “There is a work bench,” Kallish’s face tightened further, “and a spell circle.”

  “Show me, please.”

  Arrow followed the warrior’s straight back along the central walkway to the rear where several of the wooden partitions had been taken down to make a larger space. A pile of human remains was discarded to one side, one glance enough to tell Arrow that none of them had died easily. Too many tangled limbs to separate into individual bodies but she counted four separate heads before she turned away, nausea rising, not wanting to look any more. Ashamed of her weakness, she focused instead on the workbench.

  It looked remarkably similar to the one in the underground. So similar that she glanced up and around to check that she was in the warehouse, with brick walls and dirty skylights overhead, and not back in the cloying earthen dark.

  “It’s definitely the same magician.” Matthias’ voice was grim as he stood up from where he had been examining the bodies. “We’ll catalogue the dead and get in touch with the city’s law officers.”