Graiphen raised his eyes and met his son’s gaze. “Korbin,” he said, the word sounding odd and meaningless on his tongue, as though he barely recognized his son.
So many questions flooded Korbin’s mind about the day’s events, but he decided to focus on the important questions at hand, lest they get lost in a speech about the “greatness” of the Spirit Braetin. “Father,” he said. “I need your help.”
“Yes,” was Graiphen’s only reply, as though the statement were an obvious one.
Korbin doubted they were referring to the same thing. “I’ve been accused of being involved in the witchcraft that made you ill. But you know I was only brought in to help because I’m your son, and the conduit who aided your recovery needed my blood to perform the healing ritual. I need you to talk to the Vollian senators, to force them to remove the arrest warrant unjustly placed on mine and Octavia’s heads.”
Graiphen looked away, clearly disturbed at the memory of what had been done to him.
Korbin pressed on. “You needed me, Father, and I helped you. Now I need you to clear my name. One word is all it will take.”
With a hard stare, Graiphen spoke again. “You allowed one of those false witches to touch you, to take the blood of our family.”
The accusation took Korbin aback. “If she hadn’t broken that curse, you would still be a babbling mess.”
“No!” Graiphen slammed his hand on the arm of the wooden chair. “Our Mistress Braetin broke the hold of the one who cursed me.”
“If it wasn’t for Octavia’s intercession, you wouldn’t have even been coherent enough to ask me to bring you here. Which I did, by the way, at much cost to myself. It was that action which led to the suspicions placed on me now.” Anger boiled within him, matching Graiphen’s furious glares.
“Our Lady will tolerate none of the so-called conduits of the One in Vol or in any city in Talmor, her chosen kingdom. And as our reach expands, soon there will be no place in this entire realm for false gods.”
“Even though she saved your life?” Korbin was incredulous. “Is this how you repay those who help you?”
“Our Lady’s word on the matter is absolute.”
When Korbin started to speak again, Graiphen raised a finger.
“Because of your loyalty to me, and because you did as I requested, thus bringing about my salvation and rise to favor with the Spirit, I will forgive the action which tainted your blood.”
“Tainted—”
With a swift wave of his hand, Graiphen silenced him. “But I can only allow a reprieve, time for repentance. The witch Octavia may leave the city safely. Today. The Red Manus will turn their eyes from her for one day only.”
“The Red Manus?”
“You shall know them soon enough.”
“And me? Will you speak for me to the Council?” Korbin’s stomach turned. He felt unsteady and weak at the comprehension dawning on him. His father was completely insane.
“The Council will soon be irrelevant. It is the favor of our Lady you must seek.” After a brief pause, Graiphen said thoughtfully, “She knows of your service in bringing me here, of course, and of the cost to yourself. It is a good start.” For the first time, Graiphen looked pleased, as though hatching a plan. “Only through pain and sacrifice can we truly please the Spirit. If you show yourself to be determined, you will earn a rightful place under her protection.”
With those few words, viewing the mad glow in his father’s eyes, the last remnant of hope for Korbin returning to a normal life vanished. His father was lost and using his substantial power to decimate the city of Korbin’s birth, his home. He couldn’t organize his thoughts or formulate a plan. His legs felt weak, and he faltered, gripping a nearby table for support.
“You’re overwhelmed,” Graiphen said. “It’s understandable. I felt the same way when the priests first told me the honor the Lady had chosen for me.”
“You’ve changed,” Korbin said numbly. Everything had.
Graiphen smiled. “I’ve grown. And quickly.” His voice grew distant. “I’m not the man I was even two days ago. Certain things alter you forever.”
“What of finding the one who attacked you? Do you still plan to root out conduits to find him?”
The hard glare returned to Graiphen’s face. “I have a suspect. I believe it was Dul Ursin who attacked me. He’s always hated me and thwarted me at every turn. Our Lady will deliver him to me, never fear. I do not forget that you accepted this commission from me, but let it worry you no further. He cannot hide from what is coming any more than anyone else can.”
Breathing in to gather his strength, Korbin stood upright. “I should go deliver your offer to Octavia.”
“She would be wise to accept it.” Graiphen’s tone carried a warning.
Korbin bowed slightly to the stranger before him. “None who have met her can doubt Octavia’s wisdom.”
“I hope you’re right,” Graiphen said. “For after tomorrow, she will find no mercy from me. I have given all I can without offending my mistress.”
“Thank you.” The words tasted bitter in Korbin’s mouth. He turned to go.
Once outside the chamber, the oppressive air lifted, though the sourness of the encounter turned his stomach. He followed the female priest back the way they’d come, but he couldn’t breathe easily until outside the temple.
He glanced up at the grey sky, which spit cold rain. The bleakness suited his mood, and he walked slowly toward the Twining Rose, trying in vain to formulate how he would explain to Octavia that her life in Vol was over.
∞
Octavia spent the morning in silence, opening herself to the One to renew her strength after the ritual bloodletting of the previous night. She healed more quickly than most, but she was only human. The power of the One could enhance her body’s natural abilities, but she still had to pay the price.
About an hour after Korbin’s departure, she sensed a rush of movement in the building. Footfalls pattered down the corridors and distant voices took on an urgent tone. Uneasiness forced Octavia to break her meditation and go to the small window. The angle to the main street obscured her view. All she could see was a blur of rushing figures. After a few moments, it stopped and no more people passed.
Breathing deeply, she worked to release the disturbing assumptions that attempted to invade her mind: that Korbin was at the center of whatever was happening, that the dark conduit had attacked him, or that he’d been arrested and would be forced to lead soldiers to her doorstep. In the end, with each worry growing worse than the one before, she stood. It was time to join her sisters in Dramworthy.
She moved quietly and slowly, using flowing movements to facilitate an easy mind. By the time she’d packed her things, she felt calmer, stronger, more focused. As much as her instincts told her to run, to not allow herself to be trapped here, she found herself waiting for Korbin. She took her time, hoping he would return safely before she had a chance to leave alone.
The feelings surprised her, and she took a moment to examine them. A friendship had grown between the pair. He listened so intently, possessing an open mind and a curious spirit, different from most Talmorans she’d known, so different from her expectations of the high-born especially. When she’d learned of his situation, she’d written him off as a young Dul only playing at being a commoner, a man trying desperately to punish a father who’d ignored and perhaps abused him.
Over time, she’d come to see his sincerity. Where she’d assumed he’d maintained his relationship with Dul Eliam in order to keep a connection to that world, she understood now there was genuine affection and loyalty between the two men.
Perhaps his motivation was still primarily related to his twisted relationship with his father, but there was hope for him. He was more than he seemed on first glance, and the waters of his soul ran deeper than they appeared.
Heavy footfalls sounded from the corridor, and Octavia tensed. Perhaps it was nothing. It was the steps of only one man, poss
ibly a client for one of the establishment’s comfort girls. Even while telling herself these things, she knew them to be false. Something in the approaching sounds told her it was Korbin. The lumbering steps had none of his usual light grace. Hope and impending despair fought for primary place in her emotions.
She stood in the center of the main room, frozen in place as the door handle turned. The door swung open suddenly, and Korbin shuffled into the room, disheveled and pale. His eyes met hers, pleading silently for help. Without a word, she rushed to him, holding him as his knees buckled.
Helping him to the ground, she then closed the door quickly, lest a passerby see the young Dul collapsed on the floor. While he sat, leaning against the side of a plush chair, she pulled his shirt aside at the neck and wrists, checking to see if her protective bands were in place. She was relieved to find them not only intact, but with their power undiminished. He had not been attacked, at least not by a conduit, or the blood bands would have felt thin and brittle.
With the door closed, she smelled smoke on his clothing, a pleasantly musky sort of scent that made her wonder if he’d been standing near a bonfire. She wanted to ask him about the events at the square, but she wasn’t certain how coherent he’d be.
Rising to go to the small table in the sitting room, she poured him a drink, then quickly returned to his side. “Here,” she said, handing him the glass. “This will settle your nerves.” He took it obediently and let her lift it to his lips. If only she could go home, she could burn some reinweed under his nose to clear his mind.
After a few moments, the color returned to his cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“What happened? Did you see your father?”
A sudden, humorless laugh snapped out of Korbin’s mouth. He looked away as though ashamed. “I saw him. Yes. Everyone saw him.”
She made herself comfortable on the floor beside him. “Tell me.”
Gripping the glass, he raised it to his lips again and this time drained the amber liquid within. Without meeting her gaze, he told the story of what he’d seen that day, clamping his eyes tightly shut when he got to the part about the deaths in the square.
Octavia pressed her lips together and stayed silent throughout the recitation. When he told her about his father’s “offer” for her to leave the city within one day, she still said nothing. She didn’t need to. Korbin’s expression told her he understood precisely what this meant for all Kilovians and specifically to her.
She had to warn the other conduits. Her mind went to Rhikar, and she wondered if he was all right, if he’d fled to a place of safety. Fleetingly, she let herself question whether she would ever see him again.
“What will you do?” she asked.
Korbin’s eyes became more focused, and he met her gaze. “We need to meet with the others of the Sennestelle, tell them what’s happened, and warn them to leave Vol. I have a little money. I’ll get what I can if it will help. I don’t know what this Red Manus is, but I have a terrible feeling we’ll find out soon.”
“The Red Hand.” Octavia could only guess at Graiphen’s intentions.
“What?” Korbin asked.
“That’s what manus means in the old language of this part of the realm, before we were divided into the five kingdoms that exist today. We conduits use the tongue in our incantations still.”
“What do you know about the eight Spirits of Light and Shadow?”
“Very little,” she said. “We Kilovians are not taught much about Talmoran history and religion other than in the ways it touches our own, which are scant.”
Korbin appeared lost in thought. After a moment, he asked, “How do you think my father did the fire trick?”
On this point, Octavia remained silent. She shrugged, but his description bothered her. In the ancient legends, when Talmor and Kilovia were first rent into separate kingdoms, there were stories about fire mages, but they were only fables designed to entertain children while teaching them a moral lesson.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “But I think before it’s over, I will have to expose him for what he truly is.”
“Do you know what he is?” Octavia’s tone was gentle.
Korbin sighed. “He’s quite mad.”
“The dark conduit has much to answer for,” Octavia said. “Without his influence, none of this would have happened.” Although she could tell Korbin’s attention had been diverted elsewhere, finding this conduit had suddenly become of even greater importance.
“Do you think this is what he intended?”
“I don’t see how he could have,” she replied. “Even you, Graiphen’s closest relative, could never have predicted his reaction to the attack and that he would retreat to the temple to begin this new awakening.”
“There’s teaching from the temples that talks about the awakening of the Spirits,” he told her. “We learn it as children. Still, I never thought I’d see the day someone would believe they could achieve it.”
“Do you think Graiphen does believe it?” Octavia asked. “Or do you think this is a charade designed to garner power?”
“No, my father was never a very good actor. He never had to be. And besides, I know him. I would swear he believes every word he is saying.”
“That’s not good news.”
“No. It’s not.” Korbin sighed and got to his feet. “Shall we go?”
“Soon,” she said and rose as well, a thought kindling in her head. “For now, I think you need to rest. Let me test the protections I’ve placed on you and develop some for myself as well. If the dark conduit is not involved in today’s events, he will be watching and waiting. It is a good moment for us to work while he is distracted. If he is involved in what happened today…” her voice trailed off.
Could someone really have orchestrated something so bizarrely complicated with any hope of success? She wasn’t sure, however, if she hoped the unfolding events were planned or if they were separate, joined only by the natural laws of cause and effect.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be safe here. The owner of this house surely realizes we’re hiding. He will shelter us for the sake of Eliam’s loyalty and custom, but if my father’s prediction comes true and the Council becomes irrelevant, there’s little Eliam can do.”
Octavia nodded. “We have a few hours. I don’t care to go out in the city while it’s on edge. After a short time, people will begin to venture out again and will seek some kind of normality. Even in hard times, people must work; they must eat. I want to allow the city a moment to breathe. Meanwhile, we prepare ourselves.”
“Very well.”
“You take the bed. You’re exhausted.”
“I couldn’t possibly sleep,” he insisted.
“I know,” she said, “but you should close your eyes anyway.” She knew he’d be unconscious within minutes.
Despite his moment of weakness when he first returned, she saw great strength in him, a fortitude and willingness to confront what was coming that many men would not possess. His unfailing loyalty and offer to give his last declani to the Sennestelle surprised her further. Yes, he could do as Eliam suggested and take work in another town, but what some would cling to as a source of security, he would give up without hesitation.
After he lay down, she closed the door and went to the sitting room to call on the power of the One. She would need every aid to face what was coming.
Chapter 15
Korbin’s eyes fluttered open while he drifted within the deep fog of sleep. Distant voices brought him closer to the surface, and the smell of smoke on his clothes brought reality crashing on him like a sudden, violent thunderstorm. Unpleasant memories made his gut lurch. He sat bolt upright, hoping to keep from heaving what little remained in his stomach.
As the world came into focus, he heard Eliam’s voice in the outer room. When had he arrived? His voice sounded impatient. Worrying what this might mean, Korbin swung his feet to the floor and took a deep breath, bracing himself to face
whatever news his friend had brought.
Before he could stand, the bedroom door opened, and Eliam let himself in, closing the door behind him. When he saw Korbin’s face, his eyes narrowed. “Are you all right?”
In truth, Korbin’s head felt like it was splitting in two, but he nodded. “Fine,” he said. “I’m glad to see you made it away from the square. How many dead?”
“It’s difficult to say because so many aren’t leaving their homes. So far we’ve confirmed twelve dead, another six with serious injuries who likely won’t survive, and probably two dozen others with minor issues. For now, the city has gone quiet.”
“People are scared,” Korbin said, glancing toward the door and thinking about the woman on the other side of it. Would she be safe from citizens whose fear of Kilovians his father had inspired?
“With good reason,” Eliam said.
“What is the Council’s reaction?”
“Not as divided as I would have expected. Although our views on parts of the issue are fractured, we all agree Graiphen must be stopped.”
“Good luck,” Korbin muttered. “I saw him today…” He couldn’t think of how to describe what he’d witnessed in his father’s eyes.
“As have I,” Eliam said.
“Did you?” Korbin asked.
“I spoke to representatives of all the temples today. The others are understandably worried about what this means.”
Korbin frowned. “Why? I would have expected the other temples to be pleased at a return to the old ways. A rise in Talmoran devotion could only benefit them.”
“But this isn’t a return to the old ways, where all eight Spirits were part of a balanced whole. The temple of Braetin is refusing to even engage with the others.”
“A grab for power, then. Led by my father.” Korbin sighed. “I should have known.”
“I spoke at length with Brother Wolging of Dartin’s temple. He’s not so sure your father is at the heart of this.”
Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) Page 15