"I never knew," Kiara murmured.
"There's much your kind does know about us." Elana opened the doors to two empty crypts that branched off the corridor. Carved into the stone, they were furnished as comfortable bedrooms, with stone slabs where beds might have been. "Here are your rooms."
"For the ladies." Elana gestured to the smaller crypt off the main hall. "It was built for two," she said with an unsettling smile. She turned to the men, "And you may sleep here." She pointed to the larger crypt across and down the corridor. "We have no other rooms that are not… occupied."
Her gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary on Tris. "Kolin will bring anything you need. You won't be disturbed. We too, will rest until nightfall. Then, we go hunting." And with that the vayash moru left them, no longer troubling to move at mortal speed, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
"If we ever travel together again," Carroway mumbled, "I'm choosing where we stay." He moved to the doorway of the second crypt, and shuddered. "Forgive me for not being grateful, but this wasn't what I had in mind when I thought of a safe place to sleep."
"Where's Gabriel?" Kiara asked, looking for their guide.
"He stayed behind with Riqua," Vahanian replied, positioning himself so that he could look down the corridor. "I'm not crazy about being split up like this."
"Neither am I," Carina agreed. "I'd feel better if we could stay together."
"So would I," Tris agreed, "but the rooms are too small for all of us, and I don't have the feeling we've been given permission to wander around."
"You're the Lord of the Dead," Vahanian tossed back. "Aren't they supposed to listen to you?"
"Royster was a bit obscure on that point. As far as the vayash moru go, I have the distinct feeling it's an honorary title," Tris replied.
"They're bound by the Blood Council's ruling, aren't they?" Kiara asked, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.
"So I'm told. Let's hope Gabriel is reading his people correctly."
They gathered in the larger crypt, which was barely big enough for them all to find a seat. Tris lit the torches. Here beneath the ground, it was cold enough that Carina began to shiver, gratefully accepting Vahanian's offer to share both his seat and his cloak. Kiara also drew close to Tris. After a while, body heat together with the torch fire helped to warm the small room.
Carroway distributed food for them out of the packs from their horses. Kolin delivered extra cloaks and wineskins filled with an old, sweet vintage, then left them to their meal. Jae was quiet, picking at the bits of meat and cheese Kiara put out for him. The group ate in silence, each deep in thought. Or perhaps, Tris mused, the uncertainty of how close their hosts might be lingering and how well the undead could hear. He was sure that each
of them was putting off sleep just as long as their exhausted bodies could remain awake.
He knew his own opportunity to rest would have to wait. Here among the bones of the dead, the restless spirits clustered around him, so thickly that he was amazed his companions could not see them. He couldn't resist their pleas for intercession and release, and so he worked until his head throbbed and he could no longer fend off sleep.
Tris's companions waited until finally fatigue won out over fear. Carroway took the first watch.
"Sleep with one eye open, all right?" Kiara joked nervously.
"I don't think you need to worry about that," Tris assured her, seeing the uneasiness in her eyes as he kissed her forehead. From the moment they had approached the ruined temple, the whispers of the dead brushed his mind, like a hushed conversation just beyond hearing. The presence of the ghostly watchers was likely to keep him from getting any restful sleep, even if he could banish the memories of the murdered villagers from his thoughts.
Kiara and Carina disappeared into their crypt, and Carroway took up his post at its door. Just then, Riqua appeared from the shadows of the corridor. "I see you haven't yet gone to your rest," she said to Tris.
"Forgive me, but that sounds a bit ominous, given where we are," Tris said with a thin smile.
"Come with me, Prince Drayke. I have something for you, a gift from Bava K'aa."
Tris exchanged a glance with Vahanian. "Get some sleep, Jonmarc. You need it more than any of us."
"I don't sleep well in crypts," Vahanian said. "And I'm sworn to keep your royal hide in one piece. So if it's all the same to you, wherever you're going-I'm going."
"As you wish," replied Riqua. She led them down a maze of corridors. Tris called hand fire to light their way, and Vahanian carried a torch from their crypt, pushing back some of the tomb's darkness. They followed Riqua to an older part of the necropolis where dust and the smell of death permeated the air.
Riqua stopped at a mausoleum wall, where the dead were laid to their rest in stone drawers behind intricately carved slabs that depicted their likeness and the dates of their life. Vahanian hung back, keeping watch on the entrance to the corridor. Riqua moved to one of the plainer slabs and effortlessly opened a heavy drawer that might have taken three strong men to close. She reached inside, undeterred by the old corpse that lay shrouded inside. From beneath the body, she drew a small, thin book.
Tris felt his heart begin to pound as he recognized the binding.
"Do you know what this is, Lord Summoner?" Riqua asked, handing him the slim volume book-marked with a yellowed, thick envelope.
"The missing diary of the Obsidian King."
Riqua gave a short, harsh laugh. "Missing? Is that what the Sisterhood told you? It's never been missing. Bava K'aa gave it to me, years ago, for safekeeping. Do you know why? Why she chose to keep its location secret, even from the Sisterhood?"
"Because it contains something so powerful, with such a great potential for misuse, that she couldn't trust it to anyone else."
"Because it holds a secret of life and death," Riqua said. "It's time for you to hear the whole story about your grandmother, and why her love nearly cost the Winter Kingdoms their freedom. But first, pay heed to that envelope, and the page it marks. You hold in your hands something beyond the wealth of kings, beyond the greatest spoils of war. Tell me what's written on the page-mind that you do not speak the words aloud."
Tris read over the yellowed handwriting. His hands began to shake as he realized the meaning of what he saw. He looked at Riqua, ashen. "It's a spell to separate the soul from the body," he said quietly. "Gray magic, if it belongs at all to the light."
Riqua took the fragile envelope from his trembling hands, and withdrew a sturdy vial on a strong leather strap. Riqua slipped the strap over Tris's head, so that the vial hung around his neck. "What could equal the importance of the spell?" Tris asked,
"Before her death, Bava K'aa made one final potion. Doing so weakened her, and hastened her passing. What you hold in your hand was created at the peril of Bava K'aa's very soul, because its working is indeed gray magic. It's a potion capable of curing a mortal wound. Such a potion requires the power of a very great sorcerer, and drains the maker of such power that those few powerful enough to create it can only do so once in their lifetime. Think, Prince Drayke. How much would a dying man pay for such an elixir? How many people would a desperate man kill?"
"I don't understand," Tris said, staring at the vial as if it might burn him. "What does the combination mean?"
"There's one more item you have not seen," Riqua said. Tris realized that there was a sealed note slipped into the back of the book. He was shaken to see his own name written on the envelope, in the unmistakable hand of his grandmother.
"Read it."
Within the envelope was a small sheet, and on it, one sentence: "You must do what I could not, because you have what I did not," he read in a voice just above a whisper.
"Before his fall, the mage who became the Obsidian King was in love with your grandmother." Riqua said. "His name was Lemuel, and he was one of the most gifted Summoners of his age. Like your grandmother, he rose on his gifts alone, without a noble name or a wealthy family.
And like your grandmother, he became the advisor to kings and almost without peer in mortal influence."
"And that power corrupted him. He presumed to the rights of the Goddess."
"That's what the Sisterhood told you, and it's true-in part. Lemuel pushed the boundaries of knowledge within that gift farther than anyone- even Bava K'aa-had ever gone. But something went wrong when Lemuel attempted a very old working. Bava K'aa, who was with him when it happened, believed that an ancient, evil spirit took possession of Lemuel. She blamed herself for not being able to intervene. That spirit called himself the Obsidian King, although the Sisterhood believes that he has been known by many names throughout the ages, taking and abandoning human hosts as it suits him."
"Possessed by the Obsidian King, Lemuel took Bava K'aa prisoner," Riqua continued, "and the Obsidian King used him to inflict great suffering, trying to get Bava K'aa to give up the secret of this elixir. Lord Grayson, a great warrior who was friend to both Lemuel and Bava K'aa, risked everything to free her from the prison of the Obsidian King. Bava K'aa never spoke of those dark days, and neither did Grayson nor the Sisters who took Bava K'aa in and healed her. Grayson, who had secretly loved Bava K'aa but stood aside because of his friendship with Lemuel, wed Bava K'aa in private during her recovery. Before long, her only daughter-your mother-was born.
"Even after all the pain that the Obsidian King- in Lemuel's body-inflicted on her, Bava K'aa couldn't destroy him," Riqua said, remembering. "She believed to the end that Lemuel's spirit remained a prisoner within his own body, tortured by the evil the Obsidian King forced his body to perform."
"That was why she imprisoned him in Soulcatcher," Tris murmured, thinking of the deadly red orb. "Because she believed that somewhere Lemuel might still exist. There was no way to kill the Obsidian King without also destroying Lemuel."
"After the binding, Bava K'aa discovered this journal. She knew it must be hidden. Maybe she anticipated that the Obsidian King would rise once more, and that you, her mage heir, would fight anew the battle. Make no mistake, son of Bricen- the first war very nearly killed your grandmother. Some say it was the Lady herself who spared Bava K'aa. I've found it… unwise… to count on divine intervention."
"If the Obsidian King existed before he possessed Lemuel, then who was he?"
Riqua shook her head. "Even the Sisterhood isn't sure. Bava K'aa knew more than anyone, having been his prisoner. She said the Obsidian King was a spirit willful enough to defy death itself, a mage who wanted immortality and unchallenged power."
"Thank you," Tris said.
"Guard the vial well. There's no mage strong enough to make it again, and the way of its making went to the grave with your grandmother."
In the distance, they heard a scream.
CHAPTER THIRTY
KIARA AWOKE WITH a start to find a cold palm pressed across her nose and mouth and a firm grip pinning her to her bed. The reed torch had burned down to embers, just enough for Kiara to make out the silhouette of a woman poised above her.
"You can hear me?" Elana whispered close to her ear. Silently, Kiara nodded. "Good. Someone has been looking for you, Kiara of Isencroft."
Kiara struggled against the seduction of that voice, like a warm blanket of honey enveloping her, draining her will. Instinctively, she glanced toward the other bed, where Carina slept soundly, her back to them.
"Your friend can't help you. My kind have certain… talents… to make sure we're undisturbed." As if in answer to Kiara's unspoken question, a bundle of cloth tumbled and squirmed on the floor.
"Your pet will be no help," Elana added condescendingly. "Lord Gabriel and the others are resting. They won't hear."
Elana smiled coldly. "Don't blame Riqua. Her welcome was sincere. But she's not my maker," the blonde vayash moru said with a hint of bitterness. "I have no choice." Her eyes glinted with old pain.
"Come."
Elana drew Kiara to her feet and Kiara stood, panicked that her body seemed incapable of obeying her will, captivated by Elana's voice. She took one step, and then two toward the hallway. Once into the corridor, she would be lost. She had no doubt who Elana's master was. Arontala had summoned his creations, and once delivered to the dark mage, Kiara had no illusions about her fate.
As she moved toward the door, she brushed against her sword belt where it lay on the foot of the slab, sending it and her dagger clattering to the floor.
Elana gave a hiss of anger and wheeled, grabbing Kiara by the throat with a hand strong enough to crush her neck. The pressure on Kiara's throat made her gasp.
"Kiara?" Carina called. Seeing the silhouette of Elana with her hand gripping Kiara's throat, Carina screamed. Elana whirled as Carina dove for the fallen sword.
With a desperate cry Carina lunged, plunging the blade through Elana's belly. Elana struck back, tossing Carina against the stone like a rag doll. The distraction was all Kiara needed as Elana loosened her grip. Kiara twisted, using her legs to knock her attacker to the floor. A cold hand closed on her leg
as Kiara struggled to get away. Boot steps pounded in the distance.
Carina struggled to her feet and dove at the attacker with her full might. Elana hurled Carina away and released her prisoner as a cold wind swept through the room. Kiara, pushed backward against the wall, had the barest glimpse of her own dagger glinting in the dying light of the torch. She heard the sickening thud of dagger's blade meeting flesh.
Carroway burst into the room, sword drawn, a torch aloft in his grip. An instant later, Tris and Vahanian joined him. They stopped in utter astonishment. Riqua stood over Elana's motionless form. In Elana's chest, buried hilt deep, was Kiara's spelled dagger and, protruding from both sides of Elana's body, Kiara's sword. Carina, thrown hard enough against the crypt wall to have the breath knocked out of her, was struggling to her feet, her expression a mix of determination and terror.
"What the hell happened?" Vahanian demanded.
Kiara shook her head, trying to clear the last of the vayash moru's influence. "She was going to take me to her master," Kiara said. "I… I couldn't resist her."
"I gravely miscalculated," Riqua said coldly, looking down at Elana's body. "I believed that I knew who had made Elana. It appears that I did not. What did she tell you?"
"That she had no choice, that she had been told to bring me to him. She didn't have to say his name."
"Arontala," Tris supplied.
"Great. Just great," Vahanian snapped, with an accusing glare at Riqua. "Are the rest of your brood coming after us now, too?"
"You have nothing to fear from them. They are my creations. This one," she said, with a disdainful look at Elana's remains, "came to us a few months ago. Perhaps Arontala has planted his own among all the families, watching for you."
"Does he know we're here?" Tris asked.
"Doubtful. Elana wasn't strong enough to alert him. More likely, she'd been given orders to watch for you, in case you showed up."
"The dagger," Kiara said, looking down at the hilt in Elana's corpse. "It can turn the undead or destroy the soul." She reached down and withdrew the blades, cleaning them on the hem of Elana's dress before resheathing them.
Carina sat down on the slab, visibly shaken. "I didn't even realize that I grabbed a sword," the healer murmured, "I just knew someone was taking Kiara away."
"You picked a good time to get over using a blade," Vahanian said.
"Elana was sure the rest of you couldn't interfere," Kiara said.
Vahanian glared at Carroway. "You were supposed to be on guard duty."
"I was. I didn't see anything," Carroway said, appalled. "I swear by the Lady."
"You couldn't have prevented what happened," Riqua said. "We're skilled at passing unnoticed."
Gabriel joined them, and Tris thought he saw uneasiness in the vayash moru's face. Riqua looked at Gabriel. "I thought you were sleeping."
"I've learned to sleep lightly."
Kolin and Keir joined them and, at Riqua's word, pushed t
heir way in to gather up Elana's body. "Place it outside, where it will catch the sun. She doesn't deserve burial."
When they were gone, Riqua turned to Gabriel. "If Arontala has his fledglings planted among our houses," she said, "you can't be safe among any of our kind you didn't make yourself."
"I'll revise my plans," Gabriel said.
"Do we get a vote on that?" Carroway muttered.
"We can't lose more time," Tris said. "The Hawthorn Moon is only a few weeks away."
"You'll reach Shekerishet by the Moon," Gabriel vowed. "You have my word."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?" Vahanian asked.
"Now, despite this… misfortune," Gabriel said, "you need to rest, and so do I."
"I don't feel very tired right now," Kiara replied, rubbing her neck where Elana had gripped her.
"I think we should stay together," Carina added.
"I'll watch over you personally," Riqua said. "I have eternity to rest and, unlike Gabriel, I don't have to save my strength for the journey. I assure you, none of mine will harm you while I'm your protector."
Vahanian looked as if he were about to make another comment, then saw the ice in the vayash moru's eyes and thought better of it. "Let's get to it, then," he said.
What Vahanian lacked in diplomacy, Kiara thought as they filed out, he made up for in voicing the sentiments of them all. She fastened her sword belt and walked to the door, where Tris waited to follow her.
Riqua led them to her own quarters, a sumptuous tomb obviously intended for one of noble birth. It had been transformed to a well-appointed boudoir, with one significant difference. In the center stood an ornate catafalque, and atop it an alabaster image of Riqua. Exhausted, Kiara and the others made impromptu beds of couches and pillows, choosing to stay close enough together that no one could pass among them without waking the others.
Kiara gave Carina's hand a grateful squeeze. "Have I ever told you how happy I am that you're a light sleeper?"
"I'm glad I was able to stop her. But I can't believe I used a blade."
"What exactly do your healer rules say?" Vahanian asked from where he had stretched out, blocking the doorway with his body. He closed his eyes, trying to relax.
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