by T. A. Miles
“If you’re prepared to listen,” Eisleth said.
Korsten’s focus snapped to the elder. “I apologize. I fear that I’m still not fully awake.”
Eisleth gestured toward the door and presumably, Korsten’s bed which lay beyond it.
Korsten was not prepared to go back to his bed yet, considering who he left lying within it and he was also not willing to leave Merran’s side without knowing what could be done for him.
“I’d like to stay,” Korsten said to Eisleth. He brushed his hair back from his eye, tucking the overlong forelocks behind his ear. Most of them complied and the others were ignored while he took steps toward Merran’s bed. “I’m sorry.”
Ceth offered him a look of sympathy while Eisleth proceeded to explain. “Merran’s hand, as it is, is ruined. Left alone, he would never cast another spell with it and might well have to have it removed or carry it limp for the rest of his days.”
Korsten nodded, acknowledging the information, though the details spoken in such a manner brought the sting of tears to his eyes.
“But it will not be left alone,” Ceth added, ever merciful. “Though spell alone cannot heal the damage, magic combined with material will recover what might otherwise have been lost.”
Korsten could not imagine it. His faculties were not yet so willing this morning. But he didn’t have to imagine.
Ceth held both hands out before himself and within them manifested what appeared to be a length of ribbon. It was silvery in color and stiffer than mere fabric, yet it appeared quite pliable. Ceth extended the material across the bed, toward Eisleth. Without touching it, Eisleth extracted one end of the ribbon from Ceth’s hands and the rest followed. While Eisleth raised Merran’s hand at the wrist with one hand, he gestured in a circular motion around Merran’s hand with the other. The silver stream of material trailed his motion, settling against Merran’s hand and coiling around it, smoothing together as it covered the surface from his wrist to his fingertips.
While Korsten watched, he unconsciously closed the hand which held his sword material into a loose fist. He began to grasp at an understanding of what might have been going on, in essence. Watching the two ancient priests work, he held great hope. Optimism began to return, to such a degree that when Ashwin arrived in the doorway behind him, he not only was alert enough to know it, but he welcomed his mentor’s arrival with a smile. It was a smile for Merran as much as it was for Ashwin, but Merran was not conscious to receive it.
Ashwin inclined his head, allowing Korsten the moment, whether or not his mentor had had any designs on rendering the moment any differently when he arrived. Korsten was reminded that he did love Ashwin, and he loved Merran. It occurred to him as he turned his attention back onto Eisleth and Ceth’s peculiar Healing that his love for them had grown enough to supplant his memories—false or not—of Renmyr. And it was in realizing that, that he was reminded again of the dream he had had in Indhovan, the one that had also dragged him from bed…the one that was of betrayal.
His mind carried him from that dream of defiance, which in the moments he was dreaming it days ago felt satisfying, to the sensation of assault he’d felt while projecting Song during the battle in Indhovan. He was reminded that Renmyr’s manner of loving had always come with a forceful hand.
Seventeen
THE CONFLICT AT THE wall extended to hours. The sun was rising and men were still struggling against one another. Vlas was weary after a second bout of disembodied Vadryn swimming the hazy air in search of vessels to inhabit or life to devour. Regardless, Morenne had yet to gain much ground, if any. Vlas knew that he and Lerissa would last as long as they had to. He had begun to credit Gairel’s men with the same stamina in his mind when the greenish torch from below suddenly swelled. It did so with such speed and force as to rival the previous night’s Mist wall. Vlas had only an instant to visualize what that might have meant and then he was simply responding, just moments in advance. He dropped his sword and waved urgently to Lerissa, then ran toward where he had last seen Imris and the others who had been in reserve, attending to the highest arbalests and their last line against the wall being breached. He scarcely had time to pivot toward the wall of green flame and plant his feet for the casting of a Barrier. In a rush of motion that seemed to hold the whole of the world in limbo with the exception of the flame, a torrent of smoldering light raced up the wall. Men on both sides were instantly felled beneath its force. Vlas stared at the wild spell head on as it collided with his Barrier and was redirected back on itself. The pale green fire curled backward in a fitful motion and then diminished.
Lerissa stood beside him, and lowered her own Barrier. They looked upon a slope layered with sudden corpses, leading to the ghoulish figure on horseback, who looked placidly back at them.
“What in the gods’ realm?” Gairel murmured behind them, an observer along with any of his troops who had been behind the priests protecting them.
Neither Vlas nor Lerissa answered him, both of them looking at the rider, who opened his mouth, but not to speak. He seemed to inhale, and several small points of light emerged from the battlefield, descending the slope toward him.
“Has he just…” Vlas’ voice trailed at the idea, because it became too sensational to speak aloud.
Lerissa held no qualms over sensational notions being spoken. “I think he devoured their souls.”
Vlas continued to watch the spectacle of energy seemingly being sucked toward the ghoulish priest and into his mouth. “But he isn’t…he can’t…”
Imris took his arm just then from behind, causing him to stiffen and reach back for her in return. He meant the gesture to keep her further back from their peculiar opponent, so that he might utilize whatever spell would be needed to contend with whatever this was. Somehow, he wound up keeping her nearer instead, and they watched as the individual below exhaled, literally spewing forth the same green-cast demons as Vlas and Lerissa had been dealing with all night. They birthed as small as they’d been inhaled, but swelled rapidly to greater size.
“Hell’s depths,” Lerissa cursed, sounding more offended by what she witnessed than shocked.
“Stay back!” Vlas hurriedly instructed Gairel and his troops.
“Bind them!” Lerissa shouted to him, and Vlas was already in the process of working the spell. They would surely not ensnare all of them.
Still, it was an act of desperation. Vlas reminded himself that so had been the rider’s. Morenne could not take this point. They’d been held at bay for too long and this was a brazen effort to shock and overwhelm them to letting Morenne into the city.
Vlas focused on the Binding. The spell joined with Lerissa’s, forming an invisible net that halted the course of the demons. They hung in the air as if time had ceased for them alone.
“What can we do now?” Lerissa wondered aloud.
Vlas wondered as well. Neither of them dared let go their casting until they had a solution.
Imris slipped around Vlas. His protest came silently, only because it occurred to him that she had gone to recover his sword. With it, she cut down one of the low hanging demons.
“It’s a start,” Lerissa commented. “Captain Gairel, are you a good shot?”
Gairel needed no further explanation. He promptly lifted Lerissa’s crossbow from the ground at her feet and pilfered a silver bolt from her belt. “You don’t have enough to finish this,” he informed her, using two of her last to eliminate another of the demons. What of the arbalests?”
“It will take everything to damage them,” Vlas said. “Iron is an improper tool for fighting Vadryn.”
“Well, what can we do, then?” Gairel asked while Imris walked back with Vlas’ sword.
Below them, the magic user behind the odd assault seemed not to care about the struggle above him save to observe it. Perhaps he was waiting for a failure he had deemed inevitable. Or perhaps there was nothing more for him to do except to see if his tactic worked or not.
“Continue to hold them,” a ne
w voice said, accompanied by a man on horseback, dressed in telltale layers of brown with black hair and a golden skin tone. He held a silver spear in his free hand. The other had the reins of his animal, and around them fluttered a blue creature with a heavy exterior shell and delicate wings.
Vlas did not recognize the other priest, but he was beyond important words at the notion that the Vassenleigh Order had sent assistance. That meant that Korsten had relayed the urgency of the hour to the Council. Indhovan still had hope, even against more of the Vadryn than they had anticipated.
“We’re holding it,” Lerissa confirmed on behalf of them both.
The newly arrived priest readied his spear and charged down the slope. The weapon gave him adequate reach for quelling several beasts and his skill with it enabled a swift purging. Gairel sparingly utilized Lerissa’s remaining bolts to dispatch the highest of the demons. Imris stood ready beside Vlas, should any of them escape the Binding. Vlas could feel less tension on the spell as the Priest-Adept below them worked.
The rider below observed for only a short while longer, eventually withdrawing his mount and turning from the scene. The quelling of demons continued as their spear-wielding ally elected not to follow after the magic user, attending to what was more urgent. By the end of their work, there were no further demons immediately present, and none of the enemy soldiers. The sacrifice on Morenne’s part had been for naught. Unfortunately, it had taken a heavy toll on Indhovan’s troops as well. They would not be able to put up another such defense if Morenne returned with reinforcement.
Eisleth and Ceth finished their work in no short amount of time. Korsten remained throughout, having scarcely moved from where he’d come to be standing several paces from the bed. Ashwin had gone and returned in that span, and it wasn’t until the other two Superiors had declared the Healing complete that Korsten dared speak.
“What must happen now?”
“Now, he must continue to rest,” Eisleth answered.
For some reason, that was no what Korsten had expected. “Why must he remain asleep?”
“In order to allow his body and the new material,” Ceth replied.
Eisleth expounded. “Merran had been held in slumber originally to prevent undue stress and to bring his body to an even level with itself that would enable me to help him as best as spell would allow for.”
“I see,” Korsten said, watching Merran lie still, at peace in expression in a way that Merran typically was not. He could only wonder what went on behind that mask of quiet.
“He will continue to sleep while he accepts the changes that have been made,” Ashwin said. “Both through injury and now through Ceth and Eisleth’s efforts. When he awakes, he will be able to work with the Spectrum just as he did before.”
Eisleth’s dark brow raised at that, not necessarily in contradiction, but Korsten gathered it was not quite as simple as Ashwin would make it sound.
“How long will that take?” Korsten asked either of them.
“It could take hours, or days,” Ashwin replied, looking primarily to his brother. “Ceth and Eisleth will both be keeping him under watch. They will know when it’s time to wake him.”
“Yes,” Ceth confirmed.
Korsten had no option other than to accept that, though he dearly hoped that his partner would open his eyes and return to them sooner rather than later. He’d been a long while without Merran’s presence before, particularly during his training and isolation within the Seminary—something Merran could not have gone through with him, even if he’d had a reason to back then. Merran was a hunter and his task was to be out, hunting. It was their task together now.
Korsten realized after the fact that he was more desperate to reestablish that now for fear that his recent time with Ashwin had somehow decided on an exclusion of Merran. It hadn’t. Korsten wouldn’t allow it, and wondered if he should have allowed that time with Ashwin at all, but he had and he couldn’t say that he regretted the moments themselves. Denying the fact that he loved Ashwin because he also loved Merran would be unfair to both of them. Still, acknowledging both of them in such a way seemed an unlikely thing for Korsten to be able to manage.
Ashwin took Korsten’s hand in that moment. “You will have a lengthy wait if you mean to spend the remainder of Merran’s recovery here.”
Korsten realized there were more useful ways to fill the coming hours, or days. He nodded, slipped his hand unhurriedly from Ashwin’s, and left to better attire himself for the day, both physically and emotionally.
Ashwin observed Korsten leaving, and in the moments following he observed Jeselle arriving. He greeted her with a simple nod, then turned his gaze on Eisleth, whose expression was not of castigation, but it was not of approval either.
“I thought you had grown weary of my avoidance regarding certain topics,” he said to his brother, knowing well that Eisleth was not ignorant of what had gone on between mentor and student during the night.
Eisleth continued to look at him. “I had. I had grown equally weary of my student’s delay, and your student’s as well. I assume that what has recently transpired will inspire the three of you to decision.”
Ashwin agreed with that, though he was not necessarily in agreement with what decision from either of their students could lead to. He loved Korsten too much. It inspired an unfamiliar selfishness that he had been trying to stave off through a lack of overly personal contact, but that lack of contact had led to isolation that bordered on alienation between Ashwin and others. He had arrived at a point where he no longer wanted lovers; he was ready now for one love. Korsten challenged him and inspired him. Adrea had affected him similarly, and then Song had driven her to a determination and confusion that bordered on madness. She left the Vassenleigh Order and it was Korsten who returned. When bringing it to such summary in his mind, Ashwin felt that he should abandon his endeavors. But it was no longer that simple, if it ever had been. What he and Korsten had developed together was not the same. The time spent healing each other after Korsten’s return from Lilende was something that he and Adrea would not have shared. Adrea had grown strong in a way that excluded others and that ultimately led to her deliberate isolation from others, and to her death.
Eisleth knew that Ashwin harbored some concern over that regarding Korsten, especially now that he had brought Song to Resonance and begun working the Siren spell. Both of those aspects of Korsten’s talents were a topic that had pended too long already. He suspected that was why Jeselle had joined them.
Though first their fellow ancient asked, “How did Merran fare?”
“He is well,” Eisleth told her.
She came to stand beside Ashwin, accepting that silently.
“Shall we discuss Korsten now?” Ashwin asked of them all, if only so that they could cease their silent leading to the subject.
“Let’s,” Jeselle said and opened a Reach portal to her study.
Ashwin stepped through, into a many windowed room populated with a wide variety of plants and wind chimes she had collected over her many years. Both hung from various locations throughout the room, though the windows were especially occupied. It gave the room a feel similar to the lily garden. He appreciated Jeselle’s expression of aesthetics. That she brought him here suggested to him that her aim was not only for privacy, but for a soothing atmosphere.
While the others were coming through the Reach, Ashwin carried himself to a small table nested before the windows and amid Jeselle’s small garden and took one of four high-backed chairs with tasseled cushions. A bottle of elder’s wine sat in the center of the table with glasses present, which further evidenced planning for this occasion on Jeselle’s part.
Ceth took it upon himself to fill glasses for each of them, his long fingers making the bottle’s tall neck appear slimmer than it was already.
Eisleth took a seat, and Jeselle drew the portal shut, coming to the table herself. “There were topics avoided at the meeting. I think it inappropriate to open matters somewh
at new and of dire importance without us first coming to the determination of just how dangerous they may be, so that the younger members of the Council might be better guided by us.”
“Rather than left to have conflicting reactions,” Eisleth concluded. “It’s far better that these concerns are presented with a tone of control and confidence of the direction they may take, yes.”
A note of sarcasm was detectable, but its aim was not at their Council apart from the Council. Ashwin knew that it had more to do with the fact that they had no such control or confidence regarding the matter at hand.
“When Korsten first arrived and we translated the Emergence symbols, we knew that his growth would lead us here, to this very moment,” Jeselle said. “We have never had more than one priest at any given time wield the Song talent and, of them, they have been few and far between. It is a talent that appears to have been seeking a home.”
“Yes,” Ceth said, placing the wine bottle back down and lowering into his own chair. “Unfortunately, it seems to reject candidates that would be its domicile violently.”
“Is it rejection?” Ashwin considered. “Could it be that the talent seeks to host the bearer instead, and that it merely provides too vast and dangerous a terrain for those selected to fully understand and embrace?”
Eisleth relaxed in temperament with the debate formally on the table. He nodded. “I believe that to be more accurate.”
“Yes,” Ashwin continued. “We credited Adrea with mastering Siren, only because the essential requirement for mastering any spell is to be able to cast it at will. It’s based upon learning a method, like language. One can master speech, but their words may easily doom them in the wrong conditions or environment.”
“One can know much and know it well, but application and judgment varies,” Ceth inserted, which earned him a glance from Eisleth, who was still at odds with Ceth’s application of his intellect where invention and magic were concerned. Such was the natural separation of the mind and the body. Ceth’s instincts in the physical world were to expand and learn. Eisleth’s were to survive and to aid the survival of others. Of course, they could complement each other well, but the desire to do so was not always ready or willing on Eisleth’s part, particularly not regarding the situation of Merran, which was not the precise topic at hand.