The Blood King’s Apprentice

by David Alastair Hayden

  Thunder rumbled from deep within the dragon.

  “I would give you your freedom if I could. I don’t want to be bound to you any more than you want to be bound to me. But I can’t free you—not yet.” He hoped the beast understood what he was saying. “Soon, we will face many deadly enemies and I will let you unleash your full fury against them.” The dragon snarled. “It would be easier if you left me and those I love alone so I didn’t have to compel you.”

  A vision of the dragon dream flashed in Turesobei’s eyes and he staggered. The dragon eased toward him.

  He grabbed his ribs. Either it was getting harder to breathe, or his adrenaline was running out. His vision swam. His focus drifted. He had to keep himself together. Awasa was badly injured…maybe dying, maybe dead.

  Where in Torment was the Blood King? He had no idea how to get the Storm Dragon back inside him and he couldn’t control it if he passed out. What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to store the dragon? Until now it had always lurked inside him, waiting to be awoken.

  That was it!

  “Storm Dragon, go to sleep.”

  It growled.

  “Rest until you are needed.” He focused on his storm mark and tried to close the channel. “Rest until there are enemies to fight.”

  The dragon sped toward him. Turesobei threw his hands up and backed away, cringing.

  The dragon shrank into a narrow funnel cloud as it neared. Then it condensed into a ball of lightning. It struck him in the chest and knocked him off his feet. He hit the ground and rolled.

  With the return of the storm energy, his insides burned.

  Awasa lay across the room, her clothes and flesh torn. Smoke trailed up from her scorched skin and hair. He tried to get up and check on her but he collapsed. He crawled a few feet toward her then passed out.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Turesobei woke. He was lying on the stone floor in the Workshop. He ached all over, his head swam and every time he breathed, a sharp pain lanced his chest. Lu Bei was fanning him with a piece of parchment. He leaned up on one elbow and winced. “What…where….” He shook his head and fumbled for words, for memories.

  The fetch gave him a bowl. “Drink, master.”

  He took a sip. The mint-cooled liquid poured down his parched throat. His mind cleared and he remembered.

  He glanced around. “Awasa?”

  Lu Bei moved aside and gestured to the far end of the Workshop, where Awasa floated in a glowing, azure cocoon. Turesobei struggled to his feet and limped painfully over.

  The Blood King guided her down. “She was nearly dead.” He released the spell. “She will need a few weeks of rest for a full recovery. Most of her scars should heal, eventually.”

  Turesobei tried to breathe a sigh of relief but ended up wheezing and clutching his chest. “It didn’t have to go that far. You could have helped us. You could have at least kept the dragon from hurting her!”

  “And interrupt the learning process? I think not.”

  “I’d already learned everything I needed before the dragon attacked her.”

  “I disagree.” The Blood King’s eyes flickered between emerald and orange. “You brought the dragon back into you, all on your own, and you saw what it was capable of should you lose control.”

  “I knew that already.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Turesobei knelt beside Awasa and took her right hand. Despite the repair to the bones and tissues, her left hand looked as if it had been chewed on by a wolf. Her head didn’t look any better. Most of her hair had been burned away, leaving a crust of scars. Blood caked the strands that remained. Her clothes were shredded. Respectfully, he tried not to look too closely. He couldn’t bear to see all the scars anyway. It was fortunate the Storm Dragon had attacked her with fang and claws before trying to bite her head off. Otherwise….

  Turesobei frowned. The dragon could have killed her immediately if it had wanted.

  The Blood King’s words about what the beast was capable of echoed in his head.

  “The Storm Dragon toyed with her first, didn’t it?”

  The Blood King nodded. Learning that the dragon could be malicious was hardly worth Awasa being torn apart. He started to say something about it, but what was the point? The Blood King was what he was.

  The Blood King’s eyes settled into emerald. “How will you expel the dragon from you without the girl’s assistance? And do so reliably? Given that you lack the sheer willpower to do it on your own.”

  “You don’t think master can learn to do it naturally?” Lu Bei asked.

  “Truthfully, I never expected him to be able to do it through willpower. He is too human for that. But I thought it worth a try, since he sometimes greatly exceeds expectations.”

  “You’re a mean teacher,” Lu Bei snapped.

  “So, apprentice, how will you do it?”

  His body ached, he could scarcely breathe and his mind was fuzzy, yet he was supposed to theorize his next step? He noted the Blood King’s expectant gaze. He didn’t want the emerald eyes to go away. He could do without the violent outbursts of scarlet, the tortures of orange or the brooding suspicion of yellow.

  “Well…” he said, stalling as he considered the problem.

  “A bit of healing would help master think.”

  “Your master will sometimes need to solve problems while injured. This is a good exercise.”

  Lu Bei grumbled. “Can’t blame a fetch for trying.”

  “Your answer?” the Blood King said.

  “I’ll…I’ll have to develop a unique evocation spell,” Turesobei wheezed. “I can’t think of any other way.”

  “And how will you, Chonda Turesobei, go about creating a new spell?”

  His thoughts hadn’t traveled that far. He obviously lacked the ability to create a new spell out of thin air. Altering even the simplest was hard enough. But what choice did he have?

  “I could modify the teleportation spell and key it to the Storm Dragon alone, leaving myself and…” he shook his head, having lost his train of thought “…leaving myself in place. I think the link between me and the dragon would remain if I did it correctly.”

  “The teleportation spell is incredibly complex.”

  “But at heart, it’s basically a reversal of the spell of locating that which is hidden, right?”

  “With the addition of four-dimensional coordinates and the ability to create a tunnel through Wraithspace to safely project oneself to a new location over a vast distance.”

  “But I only need to project the dragon a few paces outside myself.”

  “The only difference between two feet and two hundred miles is the amount of energy required. The complexity is the same. And modifying the spell is far beyond you. Truthfully, what you managed earlier by projecting the dragon using the spell of locating that which is hidden worked only in part. You would have failed without help from Awasa and Fangthorn.”

  “Oh.” Turesobei’s shoulders sagged. “Then I don’t know what to do.”

  The Blood King smiled. “Your idea was sound. I will create the spell for you.”

  “You won’t make me do it myself?”

  “If I were willing to spend decades training you, I would. But I am not. You understand the concept and you figured it out on your own. That is not an insignificant accomplishment. It will suffice.”

  Awasa gripped his hand tight and groaned. “If it can be done with a spell,” she hissed, “then why didn’t you just give him one to begin with?”

  “Because I could not create the spell without first precisely analyzing the dragon’s signature separate from Turesobei’s form. The pseudo-teleportation spell will require variable components for the time and space coordinates. With such a spell, I cannot afford to be off on the energy calculations by even the most minuscule of amounts, or else Turesobei would end up in Wraithspace again, at best. Besides, I thought your way might reveal a different approach that would work better.”

  T
he Blood King touched a finger to the storm mark on Turesobei’s cheek. “There is one more thing I must do.” He meditated a few moments then nodded with satisfaction. “I have everything I need to know now. You are free to go.”

  Turesobei stood, gasped and clutched his ribs. “So I have to heal myself?”

  Scarlet eyes locked onto him and Turesobei backed away. Then the eyes turned languid green and the Blood King waved a hand. “I suppose I can.” He cast the healing spell. Cool energies poured over Turesobei. His ribs knitted back together, his scratches and bruises vanished. He took a deep, painless breath.

  “Thank you, master.”

  The Blood King made no reply and started up the steps.

  “What should I do now?” Turesobei asked.

  “Take the next two days off and rest while I create the spell you need.”

  The Blood King disappeared into his Throne Room.

  Turesobei leaned down and kissed Awasa on the forehead. “That was amazing. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She grimaced as he helped her stand. “If I hurt this bad after the healing he put on me, then I must’ve been really messed up.”

  “I was sure you were dead,” Turesobei said.

  Lu Bei patted her on the shoulder, a surprisingly kind gesture given their history. “You were very brave. I’m impressed.”

  “You’re impressed with me?” Awasa asked. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head. I still don’t like you.”

  Awasa shuffled along and climbed agonizingly up the steps.

  “A full recovery will take a few weeks,” Turesobei said.

  “According to Hannya, my body has an accelerated healing rate now. I hope she’s right, because this is tedious.” She stopped to catch her breath. “Motekeru told me that in adversity, the inner nature of every person is revealed.”

  “Do you know yourself better now?”

  She shrugged. “I know that I’m either extraordinarily brave or foolishly daring. Child Awasa was too timid to be either of those things and Ninefold Awasa would never have risked herself to help someone else, even you.”

  “I think if you encountered Barakaros the Warlock today he would never have a chance at taking over your mind.”

  “Damn straight he wouldn’t.”

  With a little more spring in her steps, they reached the top and entered the Throne Room. Sitting on his throne, the Blood King glared at them with cold, gray eyes and said nothing.

  Once they were in the Courtyard, Awasa asked, “Is it just me, or does he have some incredibly dramatic mood swings?”

  “He has nine Kaiaru souls inside him,” Lu Bei said. “Would you expect him to be stable?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “I only have two essences and I’m a mess.”

  “At least I always know where I stand with you,” Turesobei said.

  She smiled at him. “His mood swings are worse than I had realized, though. The rest of us don’t encounter him as much as the two of you.”

  “I tailor my approach according to which personality I’m dealing with,” Turesobei said. “Which sounds easier than it is, because his mood can shift unexpectedly sometimes. And I haven’t quite figured out all of his personalities yet.”

  The others were having a picnic lunch out in the Courtyard. Enashoma spotted them first, leapt to her feet and screeched. The others were up in an instant. Everyone rushed in.

  “Sobei, what happened?” Kurine said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, just exhausted.”

  Iniru approached cautiously, her eyes locked onto Awasa. She stopped and lowered into a fighting stance.

  “I didn’t go crazy and attack him,” Awasa said. “And if I had, I clearly didn’t come out on top now, did I?”

  “We didn’t think that you…” Enashoma began, but she broke off once she noticed Iniru’s fighting stance.

  “It’s okay,” Turesobei said to Iniru. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Iniru relaxed. “Sorry. I’m just—”

  “Trying to be careful cause you don’t trust me?” Awasa said. “I get it. It’s okay. I don’t trust myself either.”

  Iniru sheepishly muttered another apology.

  Zaiporo exchanged places with Turesobei. “Let me help.” He put a shoulder under one of Awasa’s arms. “You’re a mess.”

  “Gee thanks, Zaiporo. I hadn’t realized it.”

  He shot her a nasty look. “Old habits?”

  “Actually, I was just teasing you. I guess I never have been any good at that sort of thing, though.”

  “Don’t think so,” Zaiporo said. “Sorry.”

  “What happened?” Kurine asked as she helped Zaiporo by taking Awasa’s other arm.

  “Oh, I got mauled by the Storm Dragon,” Awasa said, “and nearly died.”

  Everyone stopped and gaped at Turesobei.

  “How the heck did that happen?” Enashoma asked. “Sobei, why was she anywhere near you when you were transforming?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said. “Can I tell you what happened later?”

  Hannya and Motekeru approached.

  “Tell us now,” Hannya said.

  “Shouldn’t we take Awasa to her room first?” Turesobei asked.

  “I can do that,” Motekeru said. He picked her up in his arms and thudded away.

  Turesobei collapsed onto a mossy patch beneath an elm. A nap would be so much better than facing their questions and, most likely, Enashoma’s wrath. He started to ramble off an explanation, but Lu Bei interrupted him.

  “Master, you’re exhausted. Allow me.”

  In complete and vivid detail, Lu Bei told them everything.

  Hannya sneered. “Projecting your dragon out from you? Disgusting.”

  “You know it’s not part of me,” Turesobei said.

  “It could be,” she said.

  “My special destiny prevents it. And besides, I don’t want to be the dragon.”

  Hannya shook her head and stalked off toward the Throne Room.

  Enashoma, who had sat steaming throughout, finally boiled over. “What were you thinking?! You could have killed her!”

  “I had to choose someone. And Awasa understood the risk. She agreed it was worth it.”

  “Why did you choose her?” Kurine asked.

  Iniru’s eyes narrowed into slits. She was obviously thinking the same thing.

  “You two wish I’d chosen one of you instead of her to face the Storm Dragon? Have you lost your minds?”

  Kurine and Iniru both shrugged.

  “Look, Awasa was the right choice for this. And I wouldn’t have succeeded with anyone else. Besides, you and Iniru can’t be restored to life again, so I couldn’t risk choosing you. And Awasa is a lot tougher than Enashoma and Zaiporo.”

  Enashoma started to say something, but Lu Bei interrupted her. “Master made the right choice, Lady Shoma. And he had to make a choice, you know that.”

  “It was bad enough when he was taking too many risks on his own,” Enashoma said, refusing to let it go. “But now he’s using others.”

  “I didn’t have a choice! What don’t you get about that?”

  “You went too far,” Iniru said. “You didn’t have to let her try to draw the dragon out.”

  “It was her idea,” Kurine said, “and it did turn out alright.”

  “That doesn’t mean he had to agree to it,” Enashoma said. “Sobei, we trust you to know when something magical is too dangerous. Or at least we used to.”

  Turesobei’s nostrils flared. “It was Awasa’s choice and mine! It was either that, or I could transform into the dragon yet again and attack her without a chance of figuring out how to expel the dragon from me. We both knew what we were doing.”

  He started toward his room, but Enashoma followed him.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “You didn’t know what you were doing when you teleported into the rose vine.” />
  Turesobei spun on her, heart thundering, jaw clenched. “I’m trying to get us home! And that means I have to take risks!”

  “You can take risks and still be careful. But you're being reckless.”

  “Shoma, I have this under control. I know what I’m doing as best as anyone possibly could. A lot better than you or anyone else. And I had no choice! End of discussion!”

  Zaiporo stopped Enashoma from following him and Turesobei thundered inside. He burst into his room, ripped his clothes off and opened the tap for the bath, muttering curses the whole time.

  Lu Bei started a pot of tea. “Lady Shoma’s merely upset, master. You teleporting into the rose vine shook her. I think she thought you were invincible up till then. The business with the dragon today just pushed her over the edge.”

  “Well, she needs to get herself together. Her arguments don’t even make sense anymore.”

  “She’ll come around, master. She always does. And it might help if you took it easy for a few weeks. Give her time to settle back down.”

  “I don’t have time for taking it easy.”

  “As you say, master.”

  After a bath and a soothing cup of green tea mixed with chamomile, he calmed down. He got dressed and decided to check on Awasa. He tapped on her door and Motekeru let him in. Awasa was taking a bath.

  Motekeru laid out clothes for her. “Summon me when you leave, master. I will be out in the garden.”

  Turesobei sat down a respectable distance away. “You okay?”

  “I will be,” Awasa said. She had washed what little of her hair remained. “How did the others react?”

  “Not well.”

  “How mad did Enashoma get?”

  “How did you know she was mad?”

  “It’s the sort of thing that upsets her. And she’s been complaining a lot about you taking risks. She doesn’t like you spending so much time with the Blood King.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “She knows and she can’t do anything about it. That’s what makes her mad. Being powerless is hard. Child Awasa couldn’t handle it. That’s why she lashed out so much. Enashoma has always had more freedom than I did. She ran away to avoid an arranged marriage, after all. She’s not used to feeling powerless.”