by Melanie Card
She shoved at the heaviness with her thoughts. She’d had to bring Ward back. He had to be alive. And right now, she needed to make sure he stayed that way.
Remy’s essence howled, and the heaviness snapped. For a heartbeat lightning-white agony filled her, then vanished. She sagged to the floor—the floor in the temple on Vekalmeer—and gasped for breath. That thing in her chest, the warmth that was Ward, felt sure and safe. She wanted to sob with relief but instead forced herself to stand. It was too dangerous to reveal any weakness. Maybe Ward would have a better idea of what had just happened to her.
She drew in another ragged breath, sheathed her dagger, and headed down the hall. It wasn’t far to their sleeping chamber, but as she reached the corner, an enormous man stepped from the shadows. No, not just any enormous man—Thanos, the pirate Stasik had infected with his spell at the fissure.
“I was hoping you’d stay.” A spider’s web of black veins pulsed across his cheeks and down his neck.
Fear shivered over her. She needed to get back to her room, get her bearings, but if she and Ward were going to get out of this alive, she needed information, too. “Why do you say that?”
Thanos flashed a wicked grin. “I like a woman who knows how to handle a sword.”
“Most men don’t.” She plastered on a hint of a coy smile. It felt like she was cheating on Ward even just using the expression to manipulate this man.
“I’m not most men.”
“I can see that.”
He shifted, inching closer. “And you are not most women.”
“So how does a man like you end up in the middle of nowhere in the Red Mountains?” She traced the swirl of obsidian on the wall between them and bit her lower lip.
“The price was right.” He flexed his hand, accentuating the black veins on his arm.
“You’re certainly stronger than any man I’ve fought before. What is that?” She pointed to a black vein but couldn’t bring herself to touch it.
“Power.” His wicked grin returned, brightening his eyes with an insanity that was clear even in the dim light. “You’ve only seen a hint of it.”
She matched his smile, pretending his power excited her. “There’s more?”
“I’m faster, stronger, better.”
“I’ve already seen that. Stasik’s pets are fast and strong.”
“And where are they?” Thanos snorted. “In soul jars. That’s all they’re good for now.”
“He sacrificed them?” She didn’t know if that made Stasik magically weaker or stronger, or more or less dangerous. Something tickled at the back of her mind, something that said she might know the answer, but that something had to be from Remy’s memories.
She focused on the feel of the wall beneath her fingers. She couldn’t let Remy’s fractured essence consume her again. Ever. “So what haven’t I seen that makes you so special?”
“This.” He flexed his fingers. A rope of black smoke burst from his palm, and he snapped it around her wrist as if it were a whip. With a jerk, he yanked her forward, and she stumbled into him, her hands slapping against his rock-hard chest.
She pulled back, but he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pinning her to him. She shoved her thumb into a nerve in his biceps, trying to get free. She didn’t want to be this close to him. Nothing. She hit the nerve in his armpit. Still nothing. She jabbed her fingers into his neck.
His arm around her tightened, and he chuckled. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Nothing hurts you.” This wasn’t good.
“Because the sangsal has fully taken hold.” He snapped his hand at the wall across from them. The tip of the black smoke whip sliced a chunk from the granite and obsidian, then swirled back around Thanos’s hand and seeped into his skin.
“And you can never be disarmed.” His weapon was deadly with just a flick of his wrist.
“I can never be killed as well.”
“Even a vesperitti can be killed.”
“That’s because they still have a soul.” He traced a finger across her cheek, his touch so cold it stung.
“Without a soul you can’t be killed?” She was going to have to ask Ward about this sangsal stuff. Everything could be killed. Even the undead.
“What I have is better. I have the blood of the Abyss running through my veins. It’s absorbed my soul and sustains me. Now there’s nothing to separate from my body to cross the veil, making it impossible to kill me. Within a day, I’ll be able to turn you to ice.”
“How do you know all this?” She pressed against his chest, but he continued to hold her tight.
“I’m the captain of my ship.” He dipped his head close, his breath like frost against her cheek. “You didn’t think I’d go first.”
She pulled back to better see his face, read his expression. He looked dead serious. “How many others are there?”
“My best two. When Stasik is done, it’ll be my entire crew.”
Her heart skipped a beat. A whole ship of them. They’d terrorize the entire Union of Principalities for an eternity. Now she really needed to talk with Ward. How in the Dark Son’s name could they stop the unstoppable? “What does Stasik get from this?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.
“The more he breaches the fissure, the weaker it gets. The weaker it gets—”
“The greater his chance of fully opening the Gate,” she said.
“You’re beautiful, deadly, and smart.” Thanos brushed his lips over hers, his cold breath stinging her face. He released her and flashed that wicked, insane smile again. “Stick around. Vekalmeer is going to get interesting.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nazarius dragged the boat onto the rocky shore in the hidden cove and headed to the narrow opening between the rocks leading back to the village. He only had a few hours until dawn and needed to question Ward’s cousin and get back to the island before then.
He rushed along the uneven path, trying to balance speed with caution. A pirate patrol catching him would do Ward little good, but it would be just as disastrous to be trapped on the shore and unable to return the boat to the island.
At this hour the village was quiet. Water lapped against the sturdy stilts, reflecting the sliver of moon sitting low in the sky. A cricket chirped, and a nightingale called. Both were good signs that no one else was around.
Maura’s house sat on the far side, past the docks, close to the waterfall where they’d made their unexpected arrival into the village. The shutters were drawn tight, but a hint of light bled through the crack at the bottom of the door.
Nazarius tapped on the wood, his other hand ready to draw his long dagger. The door eased opened, and Maura peered out.
“It’s you. Come in. Is it done?” Her gaze slid over the empty walkway behind him. “Where are they? Where’s the monster and his master?”
“The monster—?” Right. Ward. Nazarius slipped inside. “Still on the island. Things are…complicated.”
Jared glared at them. He was tied, hand and foot, to a chair in the corner, with a gag stuffed into his mouth. Declan stood from the stool by a cot on the other side of the room where the village’s Seer now lay, still unconscious with the reed in his throat helping him breathe. The main room of Maura’s little house was filling up fast.
“What do you mean, complicated?” Maura asked.
“For starters, why didn’t you mention the Ancients’ island was Vekalmeer?”
Jared’s eyes flashed wide.
Maura grabbed Nazarius’s arm. “Did you tell the monster and the girl? They can’t know.”
“Ward is the one who figured it out. And Ward and Celia aren’t the ones you have to worry about. The Innecroestri, the one your Seer foresaw we’d deal with, has figured out how to pull something from the Gate.”
Maura clutched his arm tighter. “This isn’t good.”
“You don’t say.” He helped the old woman shuffle to the stool Declan had vacated.
Declan poured her a cup of water an
d gave it to her with shaking hands. “But what does that mean? And what do we do?”
“Adolfus would know,” Maura said.
“He’s still unconscious, and I don’t have time to wait for him to wake up. I need to get back to the island before the sun rises.” Nazarius drew in a quick breath. His ribs still hurt, and he was so damned tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep. It had certainly been before he met Ward de’Ath.
“So what are we going to do?” Declan asked.
“We aren’t going to do anything. You’re going to stay here and make sure Maura and the lord Seer are safe, and that Jared is kept hidden.”
Declan straightened. “But—”
“This is just as important a job as going to the island.” As well as marginally safer than being on the island—although not by much. “Maura, could you and Declan give me a moment with our necromancer guest?”
Maura glared at Nazarius but grabbed Declan’s arm and her cane, and they left the house.
Nazarius drew in another breath and dropped his hands to the hilts of his weapons. The grip of his sword wasn’t right. But then, it wasn’t his sword. He’d lost it on the island in the fight and he doubted he’d ever get a chance to retrieve it. When all of this was said and done he’d have to return to the Collegiate of the Quayestri and get another set.
He snorted, making Jared wince. When all of this was said and done seemed like wishful thinking right now. For all he knew, the Grewdian Council had proclaimed him rogue and issued a writ for his arrest. Had anything Nazarius done in the last fortnight been condoned by the Council? All he had was the Seer’s word, a man he couldn’t trust anymore.
“All right, Jared. We need to have a conversation.”
Jared’s eyes widened even more.
“I’m going to take the gag off. I need you to promise to be quiet.”
Jared stared at him.
“You heard what I said, that there’s an Innecroestri on Vekalmeer and he’s figured out how to pull stuff out of the Gate.”
Jared narrowed his eyes.
“What you don’t know is that this Innecroestri has this village under siege with Gordelian pirates. You yell and you could get everyone in here killed. Do you understand me?” Nazarius met Jared’s dark gaze, trying to read his expression. If the man had even a fraction of the compassion Ward had, he wouldn’t purposefully endanger the village.
“I need to know about Innecroestris,” Nazarius said, and he untied the gag.
Jared flexed his jaw and swallowed. “Have you really found Vekalmeer?”
“I suppose there’s a chance Ward is wrong.”
“Ward wasn’t often wrong. He might have been the worst necromancer I’ve ever known, but he was an exceptional scholar.”
“Is.”
“You know the thing you’re friends with isn’t my cousin anymore. He’s an abomination. Every day his soul spends on this side of the veil is another day disrupting the balance between life and death.”
“So you say. Let’s focus on the bigger problem. How dangerous is an Innecroestri, and can he really open the Gate to the Abyss?”
“Are you sure it’s an Innecroestri? There’s only one alive in the Union and the Necromancer Council of Elders believe it’s a woman. That woman with Ward has to be her. I think her name is Karysa.”
This was going to take a lot of explaining. “Short version of the story, Ward and Celia killed Karysa in Brawenal City. Yes, there are other Innecroestris out there, and no, Celia isn’t one of them.”
“But Ward is a vesperitti.”
“Complicated, remember,” Nazarius said, unable to keep the growl from his voice. “You don’t know the half of what Ward is capable of, and trust me when I say you don’t want to piss him or Celia off.”
“They can’t continue to live.”
Nazarius squeezed the hilt of his long dagger, making sure Jared noticed the action. “Let’s get back on topic. Tell me about Innecroestris.”
Jared swallowed, his gaze jumping from the dagger back to Nazarius’s face. “If the Innecroestri has vesperitti around, he’s extremely dangerous. Don’t face him at night when his vesperitti are the most powerful. Get him out in daylight. His vesperitti won’t be able to stand the light.”
Yeah, Nazarius knew that already.
“And the stuff from the Abyss?”
“I don’t know anything about the Abyss.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“No, really. I didn’t study it. Ward was the one who read everything. The Gate to the Abyss isn’t real. Vekalmeer is just a story.”
Nazarius slid his dagger an inch from its sheath.
“But if Ward says that island is Vekalmeer, then it has to be Vekalmeer.”
“So what was the black stuff the Innecroestri put into the pirate?”
“What?”
“There was black stuff. The Innecroestri pulled it from the fissure, and it soaked into the skin of one of his men.”
“I don’t know. The elders would know. Let me go and I’ll ask them.”
That was the last option. Once Jared was free, he’d tell the necromancer elders where Ward was, and then they’d have necromancers and an Innecroestri after them. For now, keeping their problems separate was the best solution.
Nazarius tied the gag back on. “Thanks. You’ve been less than helpful.”
Jared jerked against his bonds and squealed into the gag, but Nazarius ignored him. He strode the few steps to the door and opened it. Declan and Maura stood just outside. Declan’s eyes were too wide, and Maura’s expression was hard.
“Check on Adolfus.” Maura gave Declan a nudge toward the door.
The boy glanced from Maura to Nazarius then eased inside. Maura closed the door, shutting out the candlelight, throwing the walkway into darkness.
“The black stuff is sangsal,” she said. “Blood of the Abyss.”
“How do you know?” Nazarius fought to keep his tone even. This woman was keeping too many secrets, but he doubted threatening her would make her reveal anything.
“I didn’t spend all my life in this village.” Her gaze drifted past him to the docks and the lake.
“And?”
“And sangsal is stuff of legends. I knew Adolfus had foreseen danger and darkness on the island, but if the Innecroestri can draw sangsal from the fissure, we’re in more danger than we know.”
“How do I stop it?”
“You can’t. You’re not a necromancer or a Brother of Light.”
Swell. But maybe Ward could do something about it. He had done more spectacular things in the last week than Nazarius would have thought possible.
“The girl and her pet can’t do anything about it, either.”
“But Ward is a necromancer.”
Maura tapped her cane against the walk and sighed. “Not anymore. Even if they don’t know what the sangsal is, it will call to them. They have blackness in their hearts now and don’t have the strength and goodness of spirit to resist it.”
“But if they could, what would Ward need to do to stop it?”
“Force it back into the Gate.”
“I suspect that’s not as easy as it sounds.” Nothing Nazarius had seen since joining Ward had been.
“Even if your friend has the desire to save us, the force of will and magic cannot waver. Any sign of weakness and the sangsal will devour the soul of the necromancer or Brother trying to put it back.”
“And there’s no other way?” The first plan would be to get Ward to deal with it. If that wasn’t possible, a second plan would be useful. Given the week they’d just had, a third and fourth plan might be in order, too.
“There is no other way.”
Fantastic. So plan number one was the plan. “Your Seer foresaw that we’d get the village out of this.” He had to hold onto that. It didn’t matter that Seers only saw possible futures and he, Ward, and Celia might not be able to get out of this. “If you tr
ust your Seer, keep Jared tied up.”
Maura pursed her lips, her hesitation clear.
Shit. He didn’t have time for this, and he couldn’t risk Jared telling Ward’s grandfather where he was. Nazarius dropped his hands to the hilts of his weapons. “Trust me, you want to believe your Seer is right.”
“I’ve seen your kind before.”
“Lady, you have never seen my kind.” A desperate Tracker caught in the middle of something bigger than himself. He didn’t know what he’d be willing to do to get everyone out of this alive. “Your Seer is right. Ward is your best bet to get out of this, and to do that, he can’t have Jared and the other necromancers after him.”
She harrumphed. “You have until tomorrow night.”
“And then?”
“You’ve never seen my kind before, either.” Determination flashed in her eyes.
“If this isn’t solved by tomorrow night, I suspect we’ll all be dead anyway.”
Nazarius headed back to the hidden cove and the rowboat. Ward had to put the sangsal back into the Abyss. He was going to love that. The young necromancer’s job never seemed to be done. Perhaps this darkness was what Severin had foreseen. What got darker and more dangerous than the blood of the Abyss?
A shiver raced over Nazarius. He didn’t want to think about what could be worse. His time at the Collegiate of the Quayestri had not prepared him for anything like this.
Perhaps they could get Ward’s grandfather and the other necromancers to deal with it. That had been the original plan, hadn’t it?
He rounded a corner, only a few feet from the entrance to the cove, when a shadow stepped from behind a pine tree. Nazarius reached for his sword and long dagger, and the Seer of the House of Bralmoore eased into a thin band of moonlight.
“My lord Seer.” Nazarius released the grip on his weapons. “Or should I say, Master of the Assassins’ Guild?”
The Seer narrowed his eyes, and a hint of the man’s dangerous intensity chilled his expression. “I’m the prince of Brawenal’s personal Seer, and you’re my servant.”