"That would be a mistake."
Donovan twisted his head to look at Ferris. The man maintained his casual stance beside the door, and still wore an equable expression, but his eyes glittered with a predatory light. Donovan opened his awareness, and the man winked.
"Starting to become a bit clearer to you, is it?"
Donovan's lip twitched into a sneer. Sciath, at least in part. "Of course. Count on the good general to dredge one of your kind out of oblivion to play guard dog. I suppose you expect me to concede you the upper hand now?"
Ferris lifted a shoulder. "It'd be the wisest move, all things considered. But I've found arrogance and wisdom don't often travel together."
Donovan turned his attention back to his daughter. "I would be cautious with this one, Daughter. He will likely never bite your hand, such dogs are extremely loyal in that regard. He will, however, not hesitate go for the throat of any he views as a threat to you. Even one you love. That is, undoubtedly, why he was called to your side. You are aware of that, are you not?"
"Ferris isn't a dog," she said. "And Bolin didn't send for him. But, since we're on the subject of Bolin, you claim to have something to say in that regard?"
"How far you have come from your humble beginnings," Donovan said. "I do believe your mother would be surprised, if not a bit horrified."
Her anger rose with the color in her cheeks. "Leave my mother out of this."
"It is because of her you are here now. Her betrayal doomed you to this life. Had she not broken her word, your existence would have been short and uneventful. Devoid of the pain and loss you have endured, and that which you have yet to realize."
She leaned forward in her chair, eyes blazing with a mix of fear and anger. "What have you done to Bolin?"
"I have done nothing to him. He is, however, in grave danger, and if he falls, we will all suffer for it." Donovan folded his hands in his lap, glancing down at them as he pondered his explanation. He would, of course, have preferred to see the general broken. Or dead. To rely on those proclaimed to be his sworn enemies, to do just as the priestess suggested he would, had been easier in thought than it proved to be in deed.
"Do you recall the Dominion priestess who accompanied me at Nisair?" Donovan waited for his daughter's nod before continuing. "I thought her dead. Killed by the general on the wall. I am sure he thinks as much. Or thought as much, before she made herself known to him again. He bears her touch. An unfortunate matter that cannot be altered now."
His daughter's face wrinkled. "What are you getting at?"
"The priestess is no more dead than I, and she has set her sights on the general."
"Why? What does she want from him?"
"She wants nothing from him." Donovan looked at the Sciath. "You have heard the phrase aerglishka brazsk dern frkleschz?"
Stillness can claim even an unmoving man. Something more felt than seen. It claimed the Sciath in that moment. Donovan could not even tell if the man still breathed.
"What does that mean?" Ciara asked, her attention flicking between the two men.
"It is an ancient ritual, once used against those of Sciathian blood." Ferris's attention narrowed on Donovan. "If you're suggesting someone knows how to perform it, I'd say that's impossible."
"So I would have thought, as well. The priestess, however, has discovered the secret, and intends to use it on the general."
The man still did not move. "There are simpler ways to kill a man."
"Not that particular man. Besides which, killing him is not what she intends."
"What then?"
"What, exactly, is this ritual?" Ciara asked.
Ferris turned his head slightly in her direction, but his focus had drawn inward. When he spoke the words, he rolled them out of his mouth as though they scalded his tongue. "Aerglishka brazsk dern frkleschz. It means 'to remove the glow from their reach'. It was a weapon used against those of Sciathian blood many centuries past. It was referred to as 'the blinding'." He looked away, his shoulders rising in a deep breath as he visibly tried to compose himself. "For those of Sciathian blood, being able to feel the power around us is like… it's like breathing, I suppose. It's not something we think about or consciously do, yet without it…" A shudder ran through him. "After the great wars, the Sciath were hunted and killed, their enemies convincing people that they were something to be feared, that the Sciath would turn against them once they were no longer needed. Then a piddling mage stumbled across a way of nullifying their gifts. He claimed he wished only to stop the bloodshed and help the Sciath by making them normal." His lip curled and he shook his head in disgust. "What it did was drive them mad. Many who were subjected to blinding took their own lives rather than face an existence reduced to nothing more than a blathering shell. For one such as Lord Bolin--"
He met Ciara's stark expression, but the reassuring smile that crossed his lips failed to reach his eyes. "He is na Duinne, and far stronger than any Sciath. His gifts are much different. I'm sure the effect won't be the same."
"You say that," Ciara said, her voice soft. "But you don't believe it."
"Nor should you," Donovan said to her. "The general's blood is pure. If anything, he will suffer worse because of it, and the priestess will twist that to her advantage. She will use the blinding to weaken the general, and then she will offer him such power as he has never seen before. He will take what she offers--"
His daughter lurched to her feet, fists clenched at her sides, staunch as ever in defending the general's honor. "He won't."
"He will. To save you. To save his emperor. And because, ultimately, like all men of power, he continuously seeks more. Oh, I am certain he will tell himself his actions are the product of honor. Perhaps he will even convince himself of that. He will believe he has the strength to wield the power being dangled before him and use it for the sake of good, in the name of the Goddess and all that is Light. Such power as this, however, cannot be altered from its true form. It is Darkness, Daughter, and it will consume him. You will not recognize the man he becomes and, in the end, he will destroy us all."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ciara fought to keep her breathing even. A roiling ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach replaced her shock at seeing Donovan so soon after what she thought was a failed attempt to find him. She wanted to dispute his words. To tell him Bolin wasn't how he painted him. Still, she couldn't argue that Bolin would do whatever he felt necessary to keep those around him safe and honor his oath to the Emperor.
"Donovan will say anything to unsettle me," she reminded herself in an attempt to quiet the gnawing doubt. "He's trying to break me down. To get me to do what he wants by making me panic. But I won't let him. Not this time."
Yet, when she turned to Ferris, her resolve wavered, and a cold iron band closed around her chest. The Sciath stood as he had when they first entered the room, but tension surrounded him and his eyes were locked on Donovan. When he felt the weight of Ciara's gaze and turned her way, Ciara wished he hadn't. A very real fear ran just beneath the surface of his usual serene exterior, something that bordered on horror.
Ciara forced calm and swiveled back to Donovan. "You expect us to believe you?"
"Have I made a habit of lying to you, Daughter?"
"You've made a habit of manipulating me. You do nothing without it somehow benefiting you and your schemes."
A flicker of his usual cold smile played at the corners of Donovan's mouth. "As do most. This time, however, what benefits me will benefit you, as well. The general, as a tool in the priestess's hands, would be in no one's best interest."
Ciara reclaimed her chair in what she hoped showed some degree of decorum, using the action to hide the fact her legs were quaking like a newborn foal's. "What is it you want us to do, then?"
"We must not allow the general to be taken by the priestess once she has performed her ritual."
"Why not before?" Ferris asked.
"I am afraid there is no way to prevent that. It is
entirely possible she has already succeeded in that part of her plan."
"No," Ferris said, shaking his head and finally moving away from the wall to come stand beside Ciara's chair, resting one hand on the back of it. "He's in the company of the Emperor. There's no way she could get to him. Especially not if they're already in the Greensward."
"Normally, I would agree with you. The Emperor and the general together could withstand almost anything. You must realize, however, the priestess has been preparing for this a long time, and her touch, as I have said, is already upon him. She has been toying with him, planting seeds of mistrust and uncertainty."
Ciara sucked in a sharp breath as memories flooded back to her. "That night at the inn, on the way to Nisair, I thought we healed him, but Andrakaos told me we didn't. That we only stole him back from--"
She put a hand to her mouth, refusing to say the name, not wanting to give it enough credence to be real. She stood again, and paced away from the men, her thoughts in a whirlwind as she tried to remember what Andrakaos had said, what Thadeus feared. "Darkness is claiming him. He will be lost to us."
"I won't let it happen," she said, more to herself than anyone. She whirled back to Donovan. "Do you know how to undo this… blinding?"
He shook his head. "I doubt there are any alive who do. Outside of the priestess, of course, and whether she actually lives in the way we understand is a question yet to be answered."
"Ferris?"
The Sciath stood with one arm folded across his chest, supporting the other as he rubbed his chin with a thumb, his eyes distant. He dragged his gaze to her and shrugged. "I'm not certain. I know the theory behind it but… Perhaps Lord Thadeus would know."
"We would never get the general back to Nisair," Donovan said.
"We?" Ciara asked, brows arched. "Tell me, Father, why are you suddenly so interested in helping us? What game are you up to this time?"
"In this game, as you call it, I am as much a pawn as the general." The familiar lightning-like flash of anger streaked across the dark night sky of his eyes. "What do you think will become of me if the priestess is successful? Do you think your benevolent Sciath na Duinne will forget our past? That he will welcome me into the world he creates? I find it much more likely he will see fit to make me suffer for eternity."
"You deserve that and more," Ciara said, surprised by the vehemence behind her words.
"No doubt. Do you deserve the same? Does he?" Donovan jutted his jaw toward Ferris. "Because, I guarantee you, Daughter, should the priestess succeed we shall all share the same fate."
"You'll twist anything to your purpose. You are nothing but evil."
Donovan's laugh reverberated around the room. "Good and evil are abstract concepts, and neither exists as an absolute. Every man has it in him to be both. Every man, at some point in his life, is both. Even your pristine Goddess fails, at regular intervals, to embody goodness, though her followers hold her up as a shining example to be blindly followed. Tell me, if I am evil, is your general good? Does he not lie to suit his purposes? Is he not willfully proud and arrogant? He is reputed to be a ruthless, often violent man, who has killed many. Is that not evil?"
Ciara glared at him. "Bolin's a soldier. He doesn't enjoy killing."
"Neither does he shun it."
"He does what he has to for the protection of the empire."
"You have learned that by rote, but do you believe it? You are so quick to label me as evil, yet I struggle to understand your definition of the word. I am curious, do you consider yourself to be good, Daughter?"
"Yes."
"Truly?"
Images flashed behind her eyes: a man with a scarred face gasping out his last breath as a belt tightened around his throat, a marauder with a sword jutting from his chest. A feeling of immense power flooded Ciara, and her pulse quickened, her mouth watering. Her lips tugged upwards into a feral grin as she inhaled deeply, reveling in the omnipotence flowing through her.
Ciara's attention snapped back to Donovan in time to see his cold smile disappear as Ferris's hand closed around his throat. The Sciath yanked Donovan from the chair, sending it toppling to the ground as he shoved Donovan back and slammed him against the wall, pinning him there. Something glinted silver in Ferris's left hand and Ciara shot across the room with a shout. She lowered her shoulder, shoving into Ferris's side, unbalancing him enough that his thrust went wide. The blade slid across Donovan's ribs instead of plunging straight through his heart. Donovan hissed in pain, and his eyes flashed, but Ciara stepped between the two men, her arms out to keep them apart.
"Stop it!"
"I warned you," Ferris said, pointing at Donovan with the bloody tip of his dagger.
Donovan smirked, though his face pinched with pain. "And did I not say she would not allow it?"
"You should be thankful I am good," Ciara said to Donovan, shaking with anger. "Or I would take great delight in killing you myself. Now, sit down."
"Leash your dog first."
Ferris gave a short laugh, wiping his blade clean on his pants before putting it away. He halted in front of Donovan on his way to his post by the door. "A loyal dog is worth more than a snake. There'll come a day you cease to be useful. You'll know it by the fact you wake up dead."
Ciara took Donovan by the elbow and led him to a chair. Amazingly enough, he went without comment. When she knelt to peel his shirt back and examine the wound he merely leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Though not deep, the gaping cut had laid open his skin in a curving arc from just beneath his breastbone to the bottom of his ribs. It needed stitches and a poultice, but Ciara didn't feel inclined to fetch either. On some level, she didn't feel like helping Donovan at all. It may have been smarter to let Ferris kill him, but if there was truth in anything Donovan said, they would need him. For now, anyhow.
Donovan regarded her blandly from beneath his lashes as Ciara called on her earth magic to weave a simple healing spell meant to ease his pain and speed the mending of flesh to flesh.
"You are quite good at that," he said when she finished.
Ciara stood, looking down at him with her fists on her hips. "Your praise means nothing."
"It was merely an observation."
"How do you know all this?" Ciara asked. "About this priestess and her plans?"
Donovan closed his eyes for a moment that stretched so long Ciara thought perhaps he had lost consciousness. She glanced Ferris's way and the Sciath shrugged.
"I know this," Donovan said, "because after I left Nisair, it was the priestess who found me, and held me imprisoned."
"And you escaped?"
"No. Though I would have done so, in time. The priestess has sent me to see the general is delivered into her hands."
"I thought you controlled her."
"Then we were both mistaken."
"Tell me, then," Ferris said. "What is it you want from all this?"
"My freedom," Donovan said, finally lifting his head and opening his eyes. "And the Goddess's head on a platter."
Ferris stiffened, his lip curling back from his teeth. "You're an ambitious prig."
"And you a blind fool." Donovan snapped the words out. "Your sacred Goddess is as much to blame for this as any. It was her meddling that woke Darkness in the first place. Now, when she realizes she cannot control it, she will sacrifice her most powerful son to it, and damn the rest of us. She has underestimated Darkness, as did I. As did the general, when he first stumbled upon her in that fetid swamp. Tell me, Sciath, you must know the man better than most. Will he turn his back on such power if he believes it is the only way to save all he holds dear? All he has pledged his life to defend? Or will his vanity lead him to reach out and snatch it, firm in the certainty he can control it?"
"He's not the fool you seem to think he is," Ferris said.
"We have to get to him before the priestess does," Ciara said. "And find a way to undo the blinding."
"Your youthful optimism is poin
tless."
"M'lady, we should talk," Ferris said.
"Please, by all means." Donovan settled back into the chair. "Take all the time you like. Each lost moment only increases the likelihood of our failure."
"And rushing headlong into something on your word alone seems such a wise choice by comparison," Ferris retorted.
He stepped back and slanted his head toward the hall, then followed Ciara from the room, making sure to close the door behind them before leading her away. He swiped a hand across his skull, dragging it down to rub the back of his neck.
"Do you need to sit?" Ciara asked. "You look like you're about to pass out."
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Just imagining what that would be like, a blinding, I mean. Even for those whose blood is mixed as mine is… I'm more Sciath than anything, and to be stripped of--" He broke off abruptly. "Goddess above, I'm sorry, m'lady. I'm sure I'm not helping put you at ease."
"No, you're not." His reaction scared Ciara more than she could say, but even that didn't match the terror she felt pouring from him in waves, even though he tried to hide it. "You said you might know how to undo it?"
"Honestly?" He gusted out a sigh. "I don't know. I understand the concept, and I believe I know how it might be done, but the practice was outlawed. All records of how to do it were supposedly destroyed. If we had the time, I'd go to Nisair, or send a message to Lord Thadeus. If what Donovan's saying is true, it the priestess has already moved against Lord Bolin, then we need to get to him sooner, rather than later. The longer he remains blinded, the worse it will get for him." He rested a hand on Ciara's arm. "If it helps at all, keep in mind that Lord Bolin is a very powerful man. I've known only one other of the na Duinne personally, and he couldn't come close to equaling His Lordship. No one of weak mind or character could wield the power he does. It would destroy them. That should give us hope that he can fight the effects of this until we can reach him."
"And then what? You don't think you can undo it. Donovan said he can't. How are we supposed to help him?"
Ferris let his hand drop and took a half step back. A chill wound its way around Ciara's spine. She looked back toward the study where Donovan waited, and tried to remember what he said earlier. Something about why Ferris had been sent for. She met the Sciath's eyes, and saw in them an answer she refused to believe.
Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three Page 23