The Last Conclave (The Lost Prophecy Book 6)

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The Last Conclave (The Lost Prophecy Book 6) Page 12

by D. K. Holmberg


  “He knows him better even than I do,” she said.

  Which was true. Selton had been the one to make contact with him. That had come after the Magi had mistakenly offered their help to the priests, something Selton took the blame for, but Roelle knew she deserved. Had she been thinking clearly, and had she been willing to look at the Deshmahne with an open mind, she might have seen the Lashiin priests for what they were sooner. They were fortunate that Selton had accidentally engaged in battle with Brohmin and ultimately joined forces after learning the truth about the priests.

  The Deshmahne studied the two of them for a long moment. “You will come with me,” he said.

  “With you?”

  The Deshmahne nodded. “Come.”

  He started down the street, not waiting for her.

  Roelle motioned to Selton, and when they caught up with the Deshmahne man, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “You said you know the Hunter.”

  “I do,” she said carefully.

  “We are going to him.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Roelle entered the temple, a strange tingling sensation washed over her skin. She glanced over to Selton, and from the set of his jaw, she suspected he felt the same thing. Neither of them attempted to reach for their swords, not wanting to risk aggravating the Deshmahne, but she had a growing uncertainty about staying here.

  Neither of them knew what the Deshmahne had in mind. The man had been silent during the entire walk to the temple, their boots on the cobbles and the occasional gust of wind being the only sounds on the deserted streets. It had grown warmer the closer they came to the temple, and Roelle wondered why that would be.

  She wasn’t certain what she had expected inside the temple, but certainly not what she encountered. Lanterns glowed brightly along the hall, and she noted sculptures stationed along the hall much like any she would have seen in the palace within Vasha. Tapestries hung on the walls, and she was impressed by the artistry. Everything about the temple struck her as similar to what she would have seen within any Urmahne church.

  She glanced over to Selton and saw him staring at the walls with the same intensity as she did. His brow was furrowed, and he walked stiffly, more so than he usually did.

  “Where are you leading us?” she asked. Her voice sounded loud in the hallway and seemed to echo off the walls. It was a trick more than anything else, but it still left her feeling unsettled.

  The Deshmahne paused. He turned, and in the light from the lanterns, she noted his youthful features. Outside, and in the darkness of night, he had seemed older, perhaps more mature, but this was a younger man. Unlike many of the Deshmahne she had seen, there was no sign of anger on his face. Most of the Deshmahne she’d encountered had enjoyed violence and had enjoyed the power they were given because of their growing abilities, but Roelle was left with the sense that this man was not like that.

  Perhaps she read him wrong. She had read Fenick wrong when she had thought he would offer assistance in their fight against the groeliin. It was possible the sergeant had been unable to convince the other Deshmahne in Rondalin to join the Magi, but more likely, the Deshmahne were complicit in the groeliin attack.

  “You mentioned you knew the Hunter.”

  She glanced at Selton before returning her attention to the Deshmahne. “He’s here?”

  The Deshmahne nodded. “He is here.”

  Why would Brohmin be in the Deshmahne temple? That didn’t make any sense, though if he was here, did that mean the Mage Elder was also here? Roelle had questions for her, though she wondered if the Elder would answer them or if she would defer them to Brohmin.

  The Deshmahne continued down the hall. “The Hunter asked that any who sought him be brought to him.”

  A nervous energy washed over her. A different question came to her, and she began to wonder if perhaps there was something she had overlooked. Was it possible that Brohmin had converted?

  She didn’t know him well, and the fact that he was close to Jakob made that unlikely, but if he had, it would give the Deshmahne a powerful ally. The Deshmahne didn’t need any more powerful allies.

  Then again, it was possible Jakob had asked Brohmin to investigate the Deshmahne, even to infiltrate them. If that were true, then her presence might disrupt something here.

  She wished she’d taken more time to think things through. Wasn’t that what Endric had suggested before she left? He had wanted her to continue to develop her ability to anticipate, to plan, to strategize. Was that what she was doing now?

  They stopped at a doorway leading off the hall. The Deshmahne fished a massive key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the door. What were the chances that she had found one of the Deshmahne who knew where to find Brohmin, and could reach him in a locked room?

  She tensed, reaching for her sword without fully meaning to. If this Deshmahne intended to capture her, she had to be ready. She pulled on her manehlin, but could she control it in her weakened condition?

  Her ability to use it had changed since leaving Vasha. It was honed through fighting with the groeliin. Before her poisoning, she had found it easier to use her manehlin during attacks, something she once would have struggled with. But she’d not been in battle since her poisoning.

  With the door open, the Deshmahne stepped inside.

  She glanced over to Selton, and he shrugged. “We’re already here.”

  They were already here, but that didn’t mean staying here was the right decision. She feared the farther they got into the temple, the more they exposed themselves to whatever the Deshmahne might plan.

  With a sigh, Roelle followed the Deshmahne into the room.

  It wasn’t a room at all. Rather, it was a narrow hall that led toward a stairway at the end. The Deshmahne reached the stairs and started climbing, quickly ascending to a landing two stories above. The farther she climbed, the more uncomfortable Roelle became. Power pressed around her, and she could practically see it. It seemed to come from the walls, from everything, including the Deshmahne.

  It reminded her of the dark energy that surrounded the groeliin.

  She looked over her shoulder to Selton who followed behind her, but he didn’t seem to notice anything.

  Why should she see it and Selton did not?

  A troubling question came to her. Was it because she had been poisoned by the groeliin? Had that somehow sensitized her to it?

  If so, she had been more injured than she realized. That wasn’t a connection that she desired.

  The Deshmahne took them along the hallway, and it curved, following the contour of the tower itself. It reminded her of what she would have imagined the Tower of the Gods being like were she ever to enter it. There was power present there, as well, the kind of power that she had felt as they’d approached the city of Thealon. It had radiated out from the Tower in a physical presence that she could feel. That presence—that power—had given her strength and reassured her that she could detect the presence of the gods.

  What did the Deshmahne feel when they approached their temple? Did they feel similarly emboldened? Was that the reason that a temple like this had been created?

  If it was, how did they generate such power within the temple? How was it that she could feel this?

  The Deshmahne stopped at a door and nodded to her. “You will find the Hunter on the other side.”

  The Deshmahne stepped aside and allowed Roelle to open the door. She did so tentatively, uncertain what she would find.

  On the other side, she was shocked to see a room similar to what one would find in the Magi palace in Vasha. It was comfortably appointed with a massive bed pushed along one wall. Two chairs were stationed nearby. A desk sat near the door. A thick, plush rug was covered most of the floor. Two lanterns glowed with a bright, orange light, filling the room with warmth.

  Brohmin looked up from one of the chairs. He flicked his gaze from her to Selton and then to the Deshmahne.

  “Thank you for bringing
them here, Bardin.”

  Bardin nodded and ignored both Roelle and Selton. “Is there anything else that you require, Hunter?”

  Brohmin smiled slightly. “There is nothing. You have done well, Bardin.”

  The Deshmahne nodded again and pulled the door closed as he departed. He left Roelle and Selton standing by the door, surprise working through Roelle, probably more than it did Selton. Selton had some interaction with Brohmin recently and had seen the man since Thealon.

  Roelle had not. Brohmin looked much different than she remembered. He still had a vibrancy to him, and there was a deep wisdom that burned in his eyes, but he no longer had the overwhelming strength that he’d radiated when she had seen him before. Then, he had reminded her of Endric, and having witnessed him fighting the groeliin, the way that he had used his sword, she could imagine them brothers.

  Brohmin appeared to have aged nearly ten years in the time since she’d seen him.

  What had happened? Had he been injured? Roelle had been so focused on what had happened to her that she had never asked what happened to others.

  From what Lendra had said, Brohmin had entered the Tower and faced the High Priest alongside Jakob and the strange, exotic woman Jakob had brought with him.

  “Brohmin.”

  Brohmin stood and motioned for them to enter, offering them the two chairs. “Please. Sit.”

  Brohmin took a seat on his bed and waited.

  Roelle glanced over to Selton before taking one of the chairs. Where was the Mage Elder? Why would Brohmin have not brought her with him to the Deshmahne temple?

  Unless something had happened to her.

  “You look well,” Roelle said.

  Brohmin smiled and shook his head. “I look as I feel, Roelle. Old.”

  “Old?”

  He might have aged following the battle, but he still could be no older than forty or fifty. While that was generally old, it was nothing compared to the age some of the Mage Elders managed. There was something about their abilities that allowed them to age more slowly than others. Her uncle was nearly one hundred years old, though he truly was one of the oldest of the Magi.

  “Yes, Roelle, I am old. I have lived many years, more than most men can claim.”

  “Brohmin—”

  Brohmin raised a hand, cutting her off. “You have fought groeliin, Roelle. You will know the truth. If this most recent battle has taught me anything, it’s that too much has been concealed from the world, those of power and influence thinking that it was necessary. By doing so, all we have done is prevent others from taking over when they should have, losing out on another generation to assume the responsibility.”

  “What are you talking about?” She had wanted to find Brohmin, but mostly to understand what he knew of the Lashiin priests. Brohmin seemed to be talking about something else entirely.

  “In all my years, I never expected the Magi to once more face groeliin.”

  “How many years are we talking about?” Roelle asked with a smile.

  Brohmin sighed. “Salindra discovered this during our journeys. It is time that you learn, as well. I don’t know how much time I have remaining, and I think it’s going to be necessary for another to carry on the mantle.”

  “The mantle?”

  “That of the Hunter. It is a title bestowed upon me by those with more knowledge than most. They are the ones who have sought to prevent devastation over the years, and for the most part, they have succeeded.”

  Roelle sat leaning forward, confusion washing over her. What was Brohmin trying to tell her? What was this that he was sharing?

  “My name is Brohmin Ulruuy. I was born centuries ago, and named Uniter first by the Magi and then by the Conclave. I have served as well as I could over my lifetime.” Brohmin looked up and held her gaze. “And now, I feel that time coming to a close. It might not be days or weeks, but even if it is years, I sense an end looming where I have not before.”

  Roelle glanced over to Selton. Both of them recognized the name. She had thought Brohmin’s name a simple coincidence, but could he really mean that he was the same man chosen by the Magi, the one they referred to as the Great Mistake?

  “We learned about you in classes,” Selton said.

  “I imagine what you learned is quite a bit different from what I experienced.”

  “Why tell us this?”

  “Because Jakob is something more than I think even the Conclave ever expected. Certainly, he is more than what Alyta expected, and she was the greatest among us.”

  “She was the goddess?” Roelle asked.

  Brohmin smiled, as if in response to a joke that only he understood. “She was.”

  “And she knew that Jakob was one of the gods?” Selton asked.

  “I no longer know what she knew, or when. Jakob still is developing his connection to those abilities, and I think he is different from any who came before him.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments before Selton leaned forward in his chair. “Why did you have us brought to you?”

  “Salindra has been searching through Paliis, but she has not had any luck finding you. I asked the Deshmahne to search, as well. I’m thankful Bardin was the one who brought you to me. Not all of the Deshmahne are so… accommodating.”

  “We’ve been looking for you, too, to understand what happened with the Lashiin priests,” Roelle said. “We encountered two of them in a tavern. They did something to one of the patrons, and two kitchen workers. They convulsed.”

  Brohmin frowned. “The priests convulsed?”

  Roelle shook her head. “The patron convulsed after the priests touched him in some way. When we tried to help him, the priests fled through the kitchen, attacking two cooks in the same way. We tried to follow them, but they disappeared.”

  “I thought they were only after the children,” Brohmin said.

  “That’s what they led me to understand, as well,” Selton said.

  Brohmin studied him a moment. “That’s right. You worked with them, supporting them. Was there anything else that you might have overheard them say?”

  “There was nothing,” Selton said. “They told us that they were rescuing the children, that in doing so, they would bring them to the north lands, and the children would be safe from the Deshmahne.”

  She had spoken to Selton about this before, but he still struggled with being deceived in that way. The Lashiin priests had preyed upon their interest in protecting children, especially children they believed might have been mistreated by the Deshmahne. It was an understandable mistake, one that Roelle certainly did not blame Selton for, though he was hard enough on himself for it.

  “I thought the same,” Brohmin said. He sighed deeply. “I was in Polle Pal and saw a man attacked. I made the mistake of helping him. Had I known what I do now, I would have left him on the street in the rain. I would have left him to suffer, the same way he intended to make those children suffer.”

  “How did Jakob find you? We know that he rescued you.” They hadn’t heard how Jakob had managed to reach Brohmin, or where he had found him. They’d only heard the rumors about how a man had appeared and saved the Deshmahne children. The rumors also spoke of one of the gods appearing, and choosing those children. It had only served to strengthen the Deshmahne position in Paliis.

  “Jakob,” Brohmin said, breathing out heavily. “Yes. Had he not come…”

  “How did he know to come?”

  Brohmin looked up at her, meeting her gaze. “He is coming into his abilities. He was able to look forward and see possibilities. Thankfully, they showed him that he needed to find me.”

  Roelle gasped. “Jakob has developed the gift of prophecy?”

  Brohmin chuckled. “It is nothing quite like what the Magi have known with prophecy. This is a different ability, though I suspect they are related. Much of what the Magi possess is related to abilities such as Jakob now has.”

  “If Jakob has the gift of prophecy, and he could use it to save you, why
doesn’t he use that to stop the High Priest, and stop additional fighting?”

  Brohmin’s expression clouded. “I have not discovered that answer. I suspect there is something Jakob has learned that makes him reluctant to use it in such a way. Or, just as likely, he does not know enough about his abilities yet to have fully mastered them. Either way, we must continue as we have been.”

  “And how is that? What have we been doing? Jakob brought us here, moving us in the blink of an eye, but he told us only that he wanted us to work with the Deshmahne.”

  Brohmin nodded slowly. “I was in a little bit of a hurry when I saw your friend before.” He nodded toward Shelton. “I didn’t learn how you managed to make it so far. Knowing Jakob brought you here makes much more sense.” He looked over, meeting her gaze once more. “I have been trying to find a way to work with the Deshmahne. That’s why I am here.”

  He shifted, and as he did, one of his sleeves pulled up, and Roelle caught a glimpse of dark markings along his arm. Tattoos much like what the Deshmahne wore.

  She looked up, meeting his eyes, her heart racing. She hadn’t expected that Brohmin would have converted, but seeing those markings…

  “Easy,” Brohmin said. He held his arms up, and as he did, the markings faded. “A trick, nothing else. It allows me to fit in, and to learn from the Deshmahne, and to find a way to work with them.”

  Roelle breathed out. A trick, but it was a good one that had nearly convinced her.

  “You’re going to need to work with them, as well. We need to find a way to understand the Deshmahne, and more than that, we need to find a way to prevent the High Priest from gaining power once more.”

  Roelle glanced at Selton before turning her attention back to Brohmin. “How are we supposed to do that?”

  Brohmin shook his head. “I thought that I would learn something by spending time in the temple, but I haven’t.” He met her eyes. “I hoped that you might have some thoughts, as I have no idea.”

 

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