by K K Ness
His chest grew tight. He hadn’t thought Sonnen even liked him. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“My House glyph was earned, Danil. Not given,” Sonnen said, his voice subterranean. “Never forget that.”
Danil nodded again. He cleared his throat with a struggle. “I won’t,” he promised.
Hafryn clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done, fala,” he congratulated, expression fond.
The dragon turned the full force of his attention onto Hafryn. “And what of you, wolf? Must I strip myself of scales before you see my House worthy of you?”
Danil glanced at Hafryn in surprise. Now that he thought of it, he couldn’t recall seeing the House glyph on the wolf’s body.
“Wolves of the northern reaches don’t ally themselves to particular Houses,” Hafryn said haughtily.
Sonnen quirked an eyebrow. “Despite all evidence to the contrary,” he observed.
Hafryn sniffed.
“In time, wolf,” Sonnen promised. It seemed like an old argument. He turned back to Danil. “Normally, Danil, your welcoming would be a cause for much drinking and feasting.”
“Oh, aye,” Hafryn said with a wide grin. “You’ve not yet been privy to an Amasian bacchanal, fala. It is a thing of wonder and delight.”
“Wolves and their debauchery,” Sonnen muttered under his breath.
“Celebration,” Hafryn countered, showing his teeth. “In all its forms.”
Danil felt his cheeks heat up as Hafryn’s grin turned lascivious. He thought of the previous night and felt his face flame even redder.
“Alas, it must be postponed,” Sonnen said. “We will honor you properly in due time, Danil. For now, the task is battle and subterfuge.” His eyes glowed with flames. “And the destruction of the Corrupt One.”
Sonnen left soon after to discuss the mission with the war enchanters. Two crow enchanters settled in the branches overhead, almost invisible amidst the greenery. A shifter arrived with a fresh platter of fruits, cheese and spiced ale.
Hafryn took platter with a murmur of thanks, setting it down in front of Danil.
Danil glanced at the mottling of bruises on Hafryn’s arms and face. He recalled the sickening crunch as the wolf had struck the chamber wall. “I’m glad you weren’t badly hurt.”
The wolf smiled at his concern. “That was luck,” he admitted. “And stupidity.”
Danil shrugged. “We didn’t have much choice.” A slight breeze caused the fern fronds to dip and sway above his head.
Hafryn threw him a warm look. “I think that’s where you’re wrong, fala. Sonnen was right—you’ve been in the thick of things from the outset. A wise man would have taken the offer of sanctuary in Corros.”
Danil picked up a slice of cheese. He’d not had time to truly analyze why he’d chosen to remain at Altonas. There were truths he wasn’t quite ready to explore.
“After tonight, we’ll turn all attention to Magus Brianna,” Hafryn added.
Danil’s mouth quirked. “I don’t think I’ll be much use once Sonnen has the lodestone.”
“Is that what you think? That you’re useful only because Magus Brianna needs a guide in the deadlands?” Hafryn frowned.
Danil grimaced. “You know Magus Brianna won’t sit quietly after losing the lodestone.” He shook his head. “She’ll want vengeance, and she can find me in a heartbeat. Anyone near me will suffer for it.”
“Sonnen knows all that. He still welcomed you into his House. Then there’s the matter of you being able to farsee, for all that you need training to do it at will. You’ve never flinched from a dangerous situation, whether it’s against a mage.” Hafryn’s mouth quirked. “Or a shifter who’s about to steal your day’s work. As for Magus Brianna, I’ll stand at your side, just as you’ve stood by mine.” He ran his gaze over Danil, green eyes perplexed. “Must I explain your worth, fala?”
Danil felt suddenly snared by the wolf’s regard. A question lay behind Hafryn’s gaze, one he could answer if he was brave enough. He swallowed. “If it were reversed, and Magus Brianna was after you, would you want me at your side?”
The wolf smiled. “I think the more important question is, could I dissuade you?”
The heavy weight in Danil’s throat eased. “No,” he murmured.
“Well, then.” Hafryn edged forward, eyes bright. “It seems we’re together in all things.”
Danil couldn’t help but snort. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
The wolf leaned close enough for Danil to feel his breath on his cheek. His eyes closed of their own volition. His skin tingled. He sensed Hafryn tilt his head, seeking. Their mouths brushed.
A throat cleared behind them.
“When you’re finished.”
They parted to see Blutark leaning against the entry, arms folded. Elania stood beside him, expression amused, together with a stranger bearing a symbol of outstretched wings on her tunic. There was no telling how long the trio had stood there.
“Gods cursed, cock blocking—”
“What was that, Hafryn?” Blutark said, grinning.
Hafryn smoothed down his braid. “You heard me. You’re an asshole, bear.”
Face burning, Danil wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“And you’re as distracted as a pup,” Blutark countered, pushing off the entry. He moved a little stiffly, arms close to his ribs.
The wolf didn’t argue the point. He shrugged and said, “At least you’re looking better.”
Blutark eased himself down beside Hafryn, stretching his boots toward the campfire. “I’ll be ready for tonight.” He clasped the wolf’s forearm and then turned to Danil. “I believe we have you to thank for this.” He fished out the sheaf of parchment with Danil’s scrawled markings of the deadlands.
“I—yes,” Danil said. “It’s not complete, though.”
“Cala here has just returned from a reconnaissance flight,” Elania said, motioning for the woman to join them. “Let’s see if we can match up what she’s seen with your memories.”
The woman knelt beside Danil and they set to work. The landscape had changed significantly, but together they figured out a clear path to the tunnel mouth that lead down to the lodestone.
“This is good,” Hafryn said, smoothing out the map. Firelight danced across the parchment.
Elania leaned over. “We’ll have to play least in sight, particularly in the scree field. The Corrupt One will expect us to go after the lodestone.”
Blutark glanced up through the bracken ferns. “Tonight there should be sufficient cloud cover to block out the moon.”
The air between them and the entry suddenly changed.
A cloud gathered and quickly formed into a wall of dirty, bloodied ice. It rippled.
“Back!” Hafryn said, rolling to his feet. His sword slid out of its sheath with a hiss. He gathered with Elania and Blutark before the portal. The two crows dropped down from their perches, transforming into two enchanters.
Magus Brianna stepped through. The skin of her arms appeared wrinkled and burnt, her fingers almost claw-like as she gripped the bone staff. The corruption had spread to under the sleeve of her robe. Streaks of discoloration lined her neck. The red orb atop the staff seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.
Danil met her gaze.
“Well, well,” she purred, her voice like being blasted with icy needles. “My wayward guide.”
Without thinking, Danil snatched up the parchment and tossed it into the fire. It caught alight with a soft puff.
Cala moved to block the mage from approaching the campfire.
Magus Brianna smirked. She raised the staff.
Hafryn tensed, a growl issuing from deep in his throat. In front of Danil, the crow enchanters wove symbols into the air.
Magus Brianna slammed the staff into the ground. A wall of ice shot out and lifted them all off their feet. Danil flew backwards in a wild tumble. He came to rest against the curved base of a
fountain. He struggled to get up, winded. Ash from the deadened fire floated about him.
Magus Brianna stood before him. Danil froze as her blue eyes momentarily flickered to white. She grabbed his arm in a punishing grip. The biting pain of ice made him cry out.
“Come, Danil,” she said. “We have much to do.”
She raised her hand. A portal of blood and ice solidified in front of them. She stepped through, pulling him with her.
He saw Hafryn burst through the vines, horror written on his face. Then coldness enveloped him and catapulted him away.
They burst into being above the refuse pit on the outskirts of Farin. Magus Brianna held him suspended in the air. Danil balked in her grip.
The cloying stench of rot swirled about them. Danil could see the huts marking the edge of the village.
“What are we doing here?” he gasped.
Magus Brianna smiled. Veins of white showed in her eyes. “I give you evidence that I keep my word, guide.”
Suddenly released, Danil dropped onto the sandy side of the refuse pit. He toppled head over foot before striking the soggy and rancid bottom. The stench of refuse and rotting flesh made him gag. Above him, Magus Brianna laughed.
Clambering to his feet, Danil placed a hand over his mouth. Flies burst up to land on his arms and face. He flailed wildly, stumbling over a mound of something wrapped in stained cloth. The cloth burst open to reveal maggoty flesh.
Danil staggered back, gagging.
Soldiers took up position on the rim of the refuse pit. They laughed at his attempt not to vomit.
A few feet away, something glittered in the rubbish. An emerald ring. Danil thought he recognized it as Vellum’s. The village healer had treasured it beyond all reason. And it was attached to—
He flailed back with a cry. A hand. The ring was attached to a hand.
Spinning about, Danil choked on his fear as he noticed the lumps of rotting flesh encased in tunics and breeches. There was the plain circlet young Callan refused to take off, lodged now upon a skull with flesh picked bare. He noticed the innkeeper’s over-worn boots, the staff old Hannah used to round up her chickens.
They’re all here…
Everyone from Farin. Every single villager. Even Hannah’s stupid dog, lying bloated in the afternoon sunlight.
All dead. Unnoticed and unavenged.
Danil fell to his knees and screamed his anguish.
23
Time grew difficult to judge. The sun moved in increments, moving inexorably closer to the time when Sonnen would lead fighters across the deadlands. Danil’s only solace was that if Magus Brianna’s attention remained fixed on him, she might not realize the Amasians’ plans.
Danil settled his gaze on a midpoint on the side of the pit. Tufts of dead grass dotted the refuse. He didn’t want to see what lay about him now that a cloudless sky exposed the worst of it.
New soldiers arrived to replace those guarding him. Cloth covered their noses and mouths, no doubt soaked in something perfumed to block out the worst of the stench. As the afternoon stretched on, the stench grew more fetid. Flies buzzed about, and Danil heard the scurry of rodents amongst the refuse.
His one hope was that Hafryn and the others remembered enough of the destroyed map to find the entrance to Kaul’s workroom. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold out against the magi.
The shifters wouldn’t rescue you, anyway.
The thought came unbidden and stripped him of strength. Danil put his hands on his knees, trying to take a sip of breath that didn’t make his stomach recoil. The world spun.
It was true, though, wasn’t it? He was just a human. He’d gotten involved of his own volition. The Amasians had no cause to come find him, not when they had everything needed to thwart Brianna and her magi cohorts.
Danil forced himself to straighten.
They arrived mid-afternoon.
Magus Ronan peered over the edge of the pit, smirking. He was wore a crisp white doublet and dark breeches. His firewhip sat coiled from his belt, its tongue white and hungry. Beside him, Magus Brianna looked resplendent in a green corset and flowing skirts. Her hair was pulled up in waves about her head, revealing her long neck with its blotchy, corruption-infused skin. She seemed unaffected by the cold, her withered arms bare to the breeze that streamed across from the deadlands.
“The rat in the rubbish pile,” Ronan said, gazing down at him. His voice carried in the quiet. “How quaint.”
Magus Brianna tilted her head, her smile cool. “I thought you would like it, my dear. A fair reward for his treachery.”
Danil returned their gazes stonily.
The breeze brought a waft of the refuse pile up to the magi. Magus Brianna’s eyes watered as she delicately covered her nose.
“Oh my,” she murmured. “Perhaps it is a bit too much, wouldn’t you say, Ronan? For all his faults, Danil is just an impressionable young man, poorly educated and easily waylaid.”
Ronan gave a dark smile. “I fear he may waylay us as well, Great Lady.”
She tilted her head, pondering. “Do you disagree, Danil?” she called down. “Your commitment to fulfil our bargain will make things much easier on you.”
Danil said nothing, watching carefully.
“Do come up here, Danil,” Magus Brianna said. “Don’t be shy. We have much to discuss.”
The soldiers along the rim of the pit raised their crossbows.
Seeing no other choice, Danil gingerly climbed the loose soil lining the side of the pit. He sucked in cleaner air at the top, feeling the tightness in his chest loosen a little.
“Please, kneel,” Magus Brianna murmured as she delicately covered her nose from the stench of him.
Danil’s lip curled.
The firewhip snapped out, coiling about his neck. It bit deep. Ronan yanked on the whip, and Danil lurched forward. His face hit the dirt hard, and before he could move, soldiers wrenched him onto his knees. Strong hands on his shoulders forced him in place.
“Excellent,” Magus Brianna said.
Ronan released the firewhip with a negligent flick. The firewhip’s tongue touched the ground and took on a faint pink tone, its hunger awakened. Danil resisted the urge to rub his throat. There’d be blood for certain.
“Now,” Brianna murmured. Striations of white showed in her pupils. “Tell us about your duplicity.”
Danil stared at her in confusion.
Magus Brianna gave a coy shrug. “My journal, Danil. You cannot think we’ve forgotten your thievery.”
“A hangable offence,” Ronan added with a soft tut.
“Kaul’s journal was never yours to begin with!” Danil snarled.
“Ah, so you know whose writings it contains,” Magus Brianna said with a pleased smile.
Danil closed his mouth in alarm.
“What else did the Amasians tell you, hmn?” she pressed.
He resolved to tell them nothing.
Ronan shook his head. “More duplicity,” he tutted.
Anger flared hot in his chest. “And what was the duplicity of the people here in Farin?” he asked with a snarl. Even atop the rim, the stench was overpowering.
“Oh, they were indeed innocent folk,” Brianna said. Her expression turned sympathetic. “Don’t fret, Danil. The shifters will be held accountable.”
No, she couldn’t mean…
Magus Brianna raised her eyebrows. “For too long they have invaded our deadlands and stolen our mage-crystals. Our beloved King has charged us with setting things aright.”
Danil stared at her in horror.
“King Liam is no fool, my dear Danil. He knows few Roldaerians would see the value in breaking the age-old treaty with Amas, not when those animals so thoroughly bested us last time.” She smiled. “But, alas, we came to this poor village on the very edge of Roldaer to perform our solemn duty, only to find our people slaughtered, and the sole survivor in cahoots with Amas.”
Rage darkened his vision. “Liar! You murdered them all!
”
The soldier behind Danil pushed him back down.
She appeared unmoved. “Even now, King Liam is amassing forces until the banner of vengeance.”
Danil clenched his teeth, aghast. They’d been so horribly mistaken to believe Magus Brianna headed a coterie of rogue mages. “Why would King Liam do this?” he gasped out.
“That is hardly the concern of peasants.” Her pale eyes shifted to full white. “Let us move to more pressing matters, shall we? Namely, the shifters you’ve bent over for.”
Danil felt like he’d been slapped. One of the soldiers leered at him. “I didn’t—” He closed his mouth. He wasn’t ashamed, and wouldn’t deny something even if it had never happened.
“No? Not even the dragon whose mark your bear?”
Danil resisted when a soldier grabbed his clenched fist and forced it open. The glyph shone brightly in the sunlight.
“Will he come for you, Danil?” she asked. “We know he is close.”
He said nothing, praying that Sonnen was already in the tunnels.
Ronan toyed with the handle of his firewhip. “Perhaps he needs time to think on things, my lady,” the mage said, his voice a low purr.
“My patience grows thin, Ronan.”
“Indeed, Great Lady.” He bowed deeply. “But young Danil needs encouragement to move past his upset over the deaths in his village.”
Danil watched him, uneasy. Cruelty glittered in Ronan’s eyes.
Magus Brianna made a frustrated sigh. “I need him functional, Ronan. As much as I enjoy your methods, they hardly leave behind useful flesh.”
Ronan’s lip curled, though he didn’t disagree.
“What do you even want the lodestone for?” Danil asked. “Aren’t you powerful enough?” He glanced at the orb atop her staff. It pulsed slowly like a dying heart. He shuddered.
“The staff is but a bridge to controlling Kaul’s lodestone,” Brianna said, her eyes dreamy.
Danil frowned. “The lodestone can’t be controlled by anyone.”
“Kaul did, and he drank deeply,” Brianna murmured. She stroked the orb. The corruption on her neck darkened. “And now, so shall I.”