Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3)

by Hans Cummings

  “Never been there myself,” The boy spoke around a mouthful of sticky brown substance, spitting residue on the straw-covered floor. “I think it’s on Selene’s Isle, about three in from the harbor.”

  Pancras assumed it made sense in the context of the city’s geography and tipped the boy a talon. The youth grinned as he pocketed the coin. “You’ll want to visit Pacha’s Den, over yonder.” He nodded to a garishly painted building across the street. “They’ll service any one, they will.”

  He winked to Pancras as he led Stormheart away. When Pancras met up with Qaliah and Gisella on the street in front of the livery, he relayed the location of the Arcane University to them.

  “Selene is the goddess of magic.” Gisella fanned her hair in a futile attempt to dry it. “At least that much makes sense. Did he recommend an inn?”

  The minotaur pointed to Pacha’s Den. “He mentioned that place, but I think that’s a brothel.”

  Qaliah’s eyes lit up. “You don’t say.” She examined the building as a man in fancy dress stopped outside the door, glanced up and down the street, and then lowered his head and entered. “Did he say how much they charge?”

  Gisella clucked her tongue. “You can do better than that. If you’re that desperate, I’ll take you to the Temple of Aurora.”

  “I want release, woman, not a spiritual experience.”

  Pancras shifted his weight and coughed. Qaliah continued unabated as he led them down the street.

  “I’ve not spent the night in sweaty pleasure since before we left Muncifer. Curton jailed me, you rejected me, the minotaur’s not interested, and everyone said it was bad for ship morale.” Qaliah ticked off each point on her fingers.

  “The priests and priestesses understand the need for release. It’s just safer, that’s all.”

  “I’ll bet it’s not as much fun.” Qaliah stopped at the corner. She nodded toward a sign hanging above a doorway just down the side street. “The Brass Bull. Sounds like an inn to me.”

  “Or a tavern.” Gisella pulled her hair away from her neck to avail herself of a cool breeze.

  Pancras rubbed his right horn. “I’m guessing they don’t accommodate minotaurs, not with that name.” Being equated with any kind of bovine irritated him, though it was a type of bigotry he didn’t encounter often.

  “No harm in asking.” Qaliah patted his arm and skipped ahead. She ducked into the doorway. Shortly thereafter, Pancras heard shouting, followed by the clatter of thrown cookware. Ducking a flying frying pan, Qaliah raced out.

  The fiendling rubbed her arm as she approached Pancras and Gisella. “Turns out, they’re not overly fond of fiendlings, either.”

  Pancras cocked an eyebrow as he noticed Gisella’s hand on her sword. “I’m sure we can find accommodations suitable for all of us. Vlorey is a cosmopolitan city. Certainly, it’s not entirely populated with bigoted louts.”

  As the minotaur led the two women across the street, he hoped he had not misplaced his optimism. The main street turned and led to a bridge, which crossed one of the distributaries. Once they moved away from the city gates, the populace appeared more diverse, and Pancras noticed a number of dwarves, minotaurs, elves, and even draks among the dark-skinned humans.

  The half-timbered buildings reminded him of those in Almeria, although their open architectural style allowed better airflow in the buildings. Many neighborhoods featured open gardens and rows of trees and shrubs. In the distance, he noticed a building with multiple towers surrounding a domed central building, the Arcane University.

  Gisella stepped behind the minotaur. “Shall we press on? There’s still light in the day.”

  “Not me, I need some hot food and a drink.” Qaliah clutched Pancras’s arm. “Look, there’s a promising place over there. We don’t have to get down to business right away, do we?”

  Pancras glanced at the tavern to which the fiendling referred. Half of the ground floor sat open to the outside. It appeared the second and third floors contained guest rooms, each featuring large windows that offered views of the surrounding neighborhoods and parks. The sign read: Screeching Griffon Taphouse & Inn. “No, I think a final respite is in order. Hopefully, the welcome here will be warmer than at the Brass Bull.”

  The fiendling stopped abruptly. “Good point. You go first. They’ll be less likely to throw cookware at you.”

  The Screeching Griffon, indeed, welcomed diverse customers, and the three settled in for an evening of food and wine. Their rooms on the third floor afforded them a view overlooking the city in the direction of the Arcane University. Pancras closed the evening studying it from a far, hoping his new life there would not be a sentence of tedium.

  ***

  Until Delilah experienced the days-to-day demands of her new position, she didn’t have a true appreciation of what being archmage entailed. The first day was light, but once the high wizards sent word there was a new archmage and she would be altering some of the guild’s rules, headmasters from all Arcane University campuses, as well as the masters from Muncifer’s campus, inundated her with congratulations, requests, and complaints. They ranged from the banal to the outrageous.

  Appointing Masters Agata and Galina as headmaster and deputy headmaster in Muncifer alleviated some of Delilah’s aggravation. When Galina informed the archmage that Katka passed her Novice Trials, the drak delegated some of the mundane communications to her.

  Apprentice Katka proved adept at refusing some of the most outlandish requests in such a way that the petitioners felt their proposals had been given grave consideration, even if Delilah’s private response was to collapse in laughter.

  She relayed her favorite of these requests to her brother, when, after nearly a week, the archmage finally found time to visit him and his mate at their home. After welcoming her with cheers and hugs, Kali filled mugs of ale and passed them around. While Ori shopped, they sat on stools at his counter to keep an eye on some gold foil he had laid out for his current project.

  “The headmaster in Maritropa wanted me to allocate guild funds for a breeding experiment.” Delilah laughed. “He wants to cross fish with sheep to create waterproof wool.”

  Kale cocked his head. “How… would that? Why?”

  “Katka thinks he was trying to expose me for a fraud, but Valyrian says he’s an old fool and probably thinks he’s on to the next greatest invention in the world.”

  Kali replenished Delilah’s mug. “You wizards are a strange lot.”

  “Have you heard anything from Pancras yet?” Kale returned from the kitchen with a plate of sausages.

  “Nothing yet.” She retrieved her Herald Stone. Master Valyrian had showed her how to use it. “I left instructions for the headmaster to contact me as soon as he reports in. This thing is great. I can talk to any of the headmasters or high wizards any time I want, and I don’t have to wait for those stupid magical messengers to return to me.”

  “It took you long enough to come visit.” Kale stuffed an entire sausage into his toothy maw. “I was afraid you’d forgotten us.”

  Delilah shook her head and speared a sausage with her fork. “The first couple of days, I could barely walk down the hall without becoming exhausted. Everything hurt. Then meetings, meetings, meetings. No wonder Sarvesh is grumpy all the time if this is what he deals with. It’s easier to just stab people you don’t like than have to listen to them prattle on and on about things you don’t care about.”

  “We tried to visit.” Kali frowned at her mate as grease dripped from his chin onto the counter. “The guards wouldn’t let us in.”

  The drak sorceress frowned. “I’m sorry. The high wizards advised me not to change the ‘No Visitors’ rule. They said it would be too distracting for the students, and it wouldn’t be fair if I was allowed visitors for social calls and no one else was.”

  “You’re not going to stay there, are you?” Kale pushed away his plate. “I mean, you don’t have to live at the Arcane University, do you?”

  Delilah had
not considered living anywhere else. As much as she liked being close to her brother, living with him and his mate seemed wrong. “I don’t think it’s a requirement, but I probably will. You and Kali need your space, Kale.”

  Kali bowed her head in thanks to Delilah, but when the archmage glanced at her brother, she noticed Kale frowning. “We’ve always lived together, Deli.”

  “Times change.” It pained her to admit it. She glanced across the counter at her brother. He picked at a knot in the wood and shrugged. The admission seemed to please his mate; Kali smiled and again bowed her head toward the sorceress.

  After they finished their meal, Delilah entered the cavern below to study the runed circle. Kali accompanied her while Kale remained upstairs to sulk and wait for Ori. In the steady light provided by the enchanted sconces, Delilah inspected each rune, brushing away years of accumulated dust and debris. One of the segments possessed a strange indentation. The drak dug into it with her claw and found a hole packed with dirt. When she finished excavating it, she revealed a square cavity, with sloping sides.

  While the archmage worked on the runes, Kali swept away dirt from around the circle, pushing it toward the opening to Grannock’s Gorge, careful to avoid disturbing the dragon egg. They finished their cleanup close to the same time, and Kali joined Delilah as she stared at the inscribed circle.

  “Any ideas?” The orange-scaled drak knelt and traced one of the symbols with a claw.

  “I’m not up on my ancient drak runes, but they almost look like numbers. Some aren’t”—Delilah pointed to specific runes—“Rannos Dragonsire, Selene, the moons, err… the King and Queen, and these”—Delilah ran her hand along a string of smaller runes near the edge of the stone circle—“the letters are from the Drak alphabet, but I don’t know the language. It’s gibberish to me, and I don’t know what purpose that square hole could serve.”

  Kali stood and approached the nearest bookcase in the stairwell. “Maybe there’s a key or something in one of these books.”

  “Maybe.” The sheer number of volumes that wound their way down the outside wall of the staircase boggled her mind. Delilah had never seen so many tomes outside of the Arcane University’s library. She glanced up when she heard the clanking of the door’s lock release. Footsteps approached, and her apprentice turned the corner, carrying a heavy, leather-bound codex.

  “Archmage!” Katka smiled and raised a hand, staggering under the weight of the book. “I found something.”

  Delilah’s heart leapt, but then she remembered Katka was tasked with researching dragon eggs, not the runed circle. “About dragons?”

  Delilah turned the human girl around to face the staircase. “Back up, then. Kale will need to hear this, too.”

  Katka groaned and tromped up the stairs, followed by the two draks. When they reached the top and returned to the shop, they saw Kale still seated at the counter, his head propped up on one hand as he stared at the door.

  “This will cheer you up.” Kali hugged her mate from behind. “Your sister’s apprentice found some information about dragon eggs.”

  Kale perked up and regarded Katka with raised eyebrows. “How to take care of them?”

  The human girl nodded and opened the codex on the counter. She turned to the middle of the book and flipped past a few pages. “Here it is: ‘Eggs can lie dormant for months, even decades, if kept in proper conditions. Without sufficient heat, dragonlings will cease development until such time as high temperatures are regained. Due to their magical nature, or perhaps their close ties with the Earth Mother, dragon eggs will not spoil, as do the eggs of avians.’”

  She flipped forward a few pages. “It goes on and on about chickens.” She paused and followed along with her finger. “‘Though they were unfortunately lost during the Great Harvest Moon Fire, the scrolls of Keeper Branthus the Golden indicate that he revived a thousand-year old dragon egg simply by incubating it in his hearth for a few days. This cannot be verified, of course, since it is widely known that Branthus the Golden was so named for the yellow hue of his skin after he imbibed copious amounts of Heretic’s Weed.’”

  Delilah furrowed her brow and stared at her apprentice. “So, what does that mean?”

  “My parents say people who eat Heretic’s Weed see and hear things that aren’t there. It also turns your skin yellow. Hogs love it, though.” Katka flipped past several more pages. “That’s about it. The rest of the book talks about their hoards and mating habits.”

  Kale scratched under his chin. “So, if we just keep it safe downstairs, we don’t have to worry about it hatching?”

  The human sorceress nodded and closed the codex. “That’s what it sounds like to me. There are two other books I planned to read on the subject, but this contained such specific information, I needed to share it immediately.”

  “You did well, Katka.” Delilah’s praise was cut short by the ringing of the shop bell. Ori pushed his way inside, carrying a box full of ink and sheaves of parchment.

  “Oh! I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  The drak sorceress hopped off her stool. “No, we were just finishing up.”

  Kale helped Ori put away his supplies. “Can I hang on to that book?”

  Katka looked to her master. Delilah took Kale by the shoulders. “No, I’m sorry. She’s not even supposed to have removed it from the university grounds.”

  “You’re the archmage, Deli.” Kale brushed his sister’s hand off his shoulder. “You can do whatever you want.”

  The drak wished that were the case. She found being in a leadership position afforded her less freedom to act than she expected. “I really can’t, Kale. It looks bad. Besides, if I make too many people angry right now, someone might challenge me.”

  Delilah’s shoulder’s slumped. “I don’t have another big fight in me so soon after the last one.”

  Kale turned to his sister. “I’m sorry, Deli. I wasn’t thinking about how much fighting that human must’ve taken out of you. I’m just…” He held up his hands. “You haven’t been around much.”

  “It’s okay, Kale. I’ll try to return tomorrow. I have to get back to the university now.” Delilah did not intend to discuss family issues in front of Katka and Ori. She missed her brother, too, but they were adults, and it seemed to Delilah that their paths were finally diverging as the paths of so many siblings did.

  Night had fallen by the time Delilah and Katka returned to the Arcane University. Katka returned the codex to the library while the drak sorceress headed to her quarters. It still bore traces of Vilkan’s occupancy, remnants Delilah eradicated a little at a time, as her time and energy permitted. On this night, she couldn’t be bothered. She fell asleep thinking of the runes around the stone circle and what they might mean.

  ***

  In the morning, after breaking her fast with Pancras and Qaliah, Gisella left the Screeching Griffon to connect with potential allies. Most slayers operated independently, and she was beholden only to Archmage Vilkan until Pancras reported for duty at the Arcane University. She felt confident that the minotaur was, in fact, on his way to do just that.

  Logically, Gisella surmised she should start at the Arcane University, but with Pancras already headed there, the Golden Slayer figured he would make his own inquiries regarding the Lich Queen. Instead, she sought out the Temple of Aurora.

  A walled temple complex shared by priests of three deities—Cybele, Apellon, and Aurora—the Garden Gallery, so named for the garden at its center, was tended by the priests of Cybele. The temples of Apellon and Aurora that sat at opposite ends of the garden, overlooking blossoming flowers, willows, and babbling streams.

  To enter the garden, Gisella passed over a footbridge and through the Gallery of Light, Apellon’s temple, filled with painters and musicians practicing their art. Sunshine streamed through stained glass skylights depicting the sun rising over a golden world. She felt both conspicuous and obscene parading through such a serene setting in her scale armor and dirty cloak.


  In the garden, the morning sun warmed the air and created a blanketing mist over the flowers that opened their blossoms to greet the day. Perfume-like fragrances mingled in the air, a barrier against unsavory odors of the city. In the center of the garden stood a statue of Cybele, depicted as a voluptuous matron, holding a threshing flail. A stone-lined path wound through the garden, leading to various meditation nooks, and a larger path led directly to Aurora’s temple.

  Gisella stepped through the temple’s open entryway and into the interior courtyard. She admired, as she stepped over it, the mosaic in the center of the foyer floor, depicting the golden seashell of Aurora surrounded by brilliantly colored butterflies. A dark-skinned woman with wavy, light brown hair approached Gisella. She spread her arms wide in a gesture of welcome, but her expression tensed as she eyed the Golden Slayer’s armor and weapon.

  “Welcome to the Bastion of Bliss, warrior.” The woman bowed, spreading her arms. “I am Cressida.”

  “Blessings of beauty upon you, Cressida.” Gisella bowed in the ritual fashion, splaying her arms to the side, her palms facing upward. “May a… spark of love burn… brightly in the flame of your passion.” So long had it been since Gisella gave the traditional greeting between priests of the goddess of love, she almost forgot the words.

  Cressida’s demeanor changed immediately. A smile crossed her face, and a twinkle appeared in her eyes as she took Gisella’s arm. “Forgive me. I mistook you for a curious southerner, sister. It makes me sad that you must attire yourself in such ugly, harsh coverings. Is our lady so reviled in the Four Watches?”

  That Cressida pegged her as being from the Four Watches so quickly impressed the Golden Slayer, although Gisella supposed her accent probably betrayed her. “Lady Aurora is not widely worshipped, but I’d hardly call her reviled. I wear the armor because I am a slayer of the Arcane University, not a priestess.”

  Cressida’s joyful expression fell, and the priestess turned and led her into the courtyard. They sat on a stone bench beneath a fountain that featured a nude Aurora rising from the sea. Gisella recognized the shell behind the goddess as the traditional visual metaphor for signifying rays of light.