Aldric nodded and gave her a smile. “Thank you.” There was no need to ask what sign. Anyone with arcane power would recognize it.
The woman scurried off, casting frequent glances at him over her shoulder. She’d have an interesting story to tell her friends.
He followed her directions and was soon drawing up outside a building with a red door. Above the entrance was a metal talisman that flickered with light, even though the sun was behind the building, leaving this side in shadow. The runes inscribed into the sign were complex and powerful, the work of a master.
Grunting with satisfaction, Aldric dismounted and tied his horse to a rail, then dusted his clothes off as best he could. He slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. They contained his valuables and personal items; he wouldn’t leave them unguarded in any city. He buckled his khopesh across his back.
Inside, the warmth of sorcerous lamps chased away the chill, their light bathing the interior in orange. They spoke of a knowledge of sorcery that far surpassed his own—an innate talent and hard-worked-for skill.
Shelves and display cases were filled to overflowing with raw materials, with sorcerous items in glass-doored cabinets under lock and key. Of the materials, most were familiar to him: ingots of different metals, blocks of rare woods, vials containing liquids that themselves could only be created through sorcery. Feathers of all kinds, dried herbs, and fragments of stone. Talismans and trinkets: some complete and some half-made, ready for their owner to stamp his or her mark upon them.
Some cases held weapons: daggers and swords of various lengths, worked with runes and symbols. One wall was entirely covered with sheets of tacked-on paper, each one showing intricate geometric designs and calculations. Notes were scrawled alongside patterned runes following the lines. Aldric knew some of the cants, but many were beyond him. The logic and mathematical calculations of the sorcery on display eclipsed his talents, not to mention many used a mixture of dawn-tide and dusk-tide power.
A petite woman wandered among the shelves and cases, her long dark hair sprinkled with braids that she occasionally toyed with. She wore a pair of black woven pants and a scarlet shirt with silver buttons. As she peered into a glass display case, she tutted, then withdrew a bunch of keys attached to a chain from her pocket, unlocked the case, and took out a palm-sized bronze statue. Yellowed birdlike bones with shattered ends had been grafted onto it somehow, sticking out like quills on a porcupine.
“I knew it was around somewhere,” she said, turning to Aldric. She flashed him a smile, and he found himself answering it with one of his own.
Her brown eyes were slanted, and her skin was pale, so much so, it made her seem as if she were wearing red lipstick. Her beauty made Aldric catch his breath. Having grown up among people with dark gray skin, paleness was still an exotic oddity to him, even after all these years. She had some Soreshi blood in her, he realized. How much was impossible to tell. The nomadic clans that inhabited the vast grasslands to the west were secretive and usually hostile to outsiders. How she came to be here would likely be an interesting tale.
He examined her again as she left him and made her way to a polished wooden counter. She wrapped the talisman in a rough cloth, then placed it inside a box. Her figure was strong, muscles firm, and Aldric found himself wanting to know more about her.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she said, pushing the box to the side and meeting his eyes. “Feel free to look around. And if there’s anything you like … You seem fresh off the road. Are you looking for lodging?”
Aldric shook his head, then stopped. “Actually, yes, I am. Do you know of anywhere close by?”
Although accommodation would be provided to him by the Church, one of the perks of arriving early was he had time to relax and take a break from his duties.
The woman walked around the counter and approached him, her head tilted, wide eyes staring into his. She pointed to his saddlebags. “I know that seal.”
Aldric felt her sorcerous mark surge as she worked something. Her mark was deep and fierce, a profound fissure. For an instant, jealousy flared in him, to be pushed aside by sorrow. He quashed both feelings and turned his face away as it grew hot with shame.
“I’m just after some simple talismans,” he said stiffly, the first thing that came to mind.
He faced her again and saw she was regarding him with concern and a little sympathy.
“No need for falsehood,” she said softly. “We’re both sorcerers, after all.”
“I’m …” He swallowed. “I’m a dabbler, nothing more.”
“Your mark is small, but it is there. How did you find yourself following Menselas, or the Five as he’s commonly known? Though the Church makes use of us occasionally—for which they pay dearly—they don’t like us much.”
An understatement, he thought. And then, She knows. She had realized he was cursed in the eyes of the Church.
The thought clenched his hands into fists, and he struggled against the anguish that threatened to overwhelm him. Being alone in the forest for so long had given him too much time to think. It was a few moments before he mastered his sorrow enough to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I’ll come back.”
He strode from the shop, the woman’s concerned voice following him out, though for some reason he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He unhitched his horse and led it away, aware of the woman standing in the doorway, staring after him.
~ ~ ~
A platter of roasted bird and vegetables was plonked down in front of Aldric, followed by a tankard of beer. He picked up knife and fork and set to with gusto. He couldn’t tell what sort of bird it was, but there was plenty of dark and tender meat on its bones. Speckles of charred herbs spotted the crispy skin. He swallowed a few mouthfuls of pale beer and puckered his mouth. Too fruity for his taste, but he’d heard they liked it that way this far north.
The Cask and Squirrel was but a few blocks from the sorcerer’s shop, and the first reasonable place he’d stumbled across. A few silver royals later, he’d booked a room for the week, along with morning meals and a stall for his horse.
As the hour was getting late, he’d dropped off his gear and come downstairs to take the edge off his hunger. He’d found a booth to the side of the room before the inn became too packed with the evening crowd. There was a brick wall at his back, and the roaring fireplace was to his right. He could see the front door and also the entrance to the kitchen at the side of the bar.
He was halfway through the bird when a steaming berry tart was deposited next to his platter. Aldric paused, considering abandoning his meat to eat the tart while it was still hot.
“That looks nice,” someone said, sliding into the seat opposite him.
Aldric swallowed his mouthful and wiped grease from his lips. The woman from the shop. She must have worked a divining to find him. Sorcery beyond his ken.
“Magister Aldric Kermoran,” she said, confirming his suspicions.
She wore a dark jacket over her shirt to keep out the night’s chill, and this close he could see colored strings woven into her braids: red and black and yellow. Her Soreshi clan colors, he realized.
“You seem to know more about me than I know of you,” he said, not unkindly. “I don’t even know your name.”
She held out her hand, and he clasped it in his. Her grip was firm, though her hand was small and her fingers delicate.
“Lady Pearello,” she said. “Though my friends call me Soki. It’s short for Sokhelle.”
Aldric smiled. “Lady Pearello it is, then. We are not yet friends.”
“No. But that could change. You intrigue me, Aldric, if you’ll forgive my familiarity. There is much to study with sorcery, but so few men are as … memorable as you.”
Aldric stared into the froth of his beer. The conflicting emotions he’d felt when she’d mentioned his god had mostly subsided. But the implication still hurt.
“I don’t care to be examined like so
me strange animal,” he said.
“No, I don’t suppose you would. But I wasn’t planning on doing that. Ah … do you mind?”
He looked up to see her greedily eyeing his berry tart. He laughed. “Go ahead.”
“Oh, thank you!” She bit into it, heedless of the heat. “It’s good,” she mumbled around a mouthful.
Aldric picked up the remaining bird’s leg and finished it off in short order while watching the sorcerer devour his dessert.
“Lady Pearello,” he began.
“Please. Just Soki. I have a feeling we’ll become good friends.” Her eyes sparkled in the firelight.
“Soki, then. I’m new here …”
An impish smile crept across her face. “Would you like a guide?”
“I do need someone to show me the neighborhood and the rest of the city. Perhaps we could start there?”
She nodded slowly, still smiling. “The day after tomorrow? Tomorrow, I’m … working on something. It can’t be put off.”
Aldric wondered what kind of sorcery Soki was involved with. Presumably something significant and difficult. She was driven, he decided. And attractive.
~ ~ ~
There were many sights in Caronath that Aldric wished to see. His youthful ears had been filled with tales of the fabled city, and his eyes had devoured many historical tomes about it during his novitiate training with the Church. With Soki on his arm, all seemed greater and more vibrant than he had imagined. She proved to be a goldmine of information about Caronath and the areas around the city, as well as the ruins and wilderness that spread from the city to the north.
By a bend in the river loomed the Temarine, an impossibly tall tower with a slight lean. Abandoned centuries ago due to poor foundations, it now housed a population of swallows in its upper tiers and bats in the lower.
An unremarkable tomb in a cemetery held a shaft dug deep into the earth, and at the bottom were ancient ruins from a cataclysm.
They visited a huge warehouse where the river’s fishermen brought their daily catch and sold over a hundred types of fish amid shouts and smoke and flies.
They traversed the Living Bridge, made from the roots of a tree woven together and able to support the weight of thirty people.
And all the while, they spoke of themselves, their pasts, their hopes for the future, and occasionally of sorcery. Despite that, all the time he was with Soki, Aldric kept the relic hidden away. He didn’t want anyone other than his direct superior to know he possessed it. Besides, while he was having a well-earned break, he also wanted a rest from the relic. Using it wearied him, physically and mentally, and a few days away from the nightmares and unsettling truths it showed him would be welcome.
Just as the sun was setting, Soki led him to a brick-walled garden deep inside the district of Bitter End, an area with many mansions and wealthy residents. At this time of day, the streets were busy with carriages and passers-by. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the garden’s wrought-iron gate. Inside, a trimmed hedge blocked the main part of the garden from outside observers. They skirted around it, and Aldric saw a lake surrounded by shrubs and carefully placed rocks. On the far side, swans glided silently away.
“Come,” Soki said, and took his hand. “No one will disturb us. This is a privately owned garden.”
She led him along the lake’s bank until they reached a wooden pier, at the end of which was a platform extending twenty paces over the water. Their boots clunked on the polished timbers, and Soki briefly shook three globes that sat in metal cages fixed atop square posts. A pale light shone from them; and as the sun began to set, painting the sky hues of orange and red and violet, they were enough to see by.
A wry smile formed on Aldric’s lips, and an uneasiness in his belly. He knew what Soki was doing. The dusk-tide was coming, and he’d mentioned his reticence to use its power.
She gave him a questioning, impudent smile and backed away until she stood in the center of the platform. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, and Aldric’s skin began to tingle. Like a tidal wave, the dusk-tide was coming.
Soki shrugged off her shirt and slipped her trousers down her hips to pile at her feet. Underneath, she wore scanty underclothes of pale red. She kneeled and folded her clothes with quick efficient movements, then stood again, stretched her arms toward the night sky, and waited.
Although he knew she was simply doing what was most effective for harnessing the dusk-tide, the sight of her near-naked form aroused Aldric. He couldn’t help it. Her pale skin and lithe body scattered his thoughts until the only ones that remained were lustful and indecent. His face grew hot, his breath short.
“Join me,” Soki said. “You need to put your inhibitions aside. Dark counters dark, remember? How can you defend yourself if you refuse to learn? To embrace your power?”
Aldric removed his shirt, but that was all. Something about the dark power of the dusk-tide unsettled him, and to weather it naked, or almost so, filled him with dread.
It seemed Soki had no such reservations.
Staring at Soki’s striking figure, Aldric forgot to prepare himself as he opened to the arcane energy. Perhaps that was what she had planned. Unlike the dawn-tide, which approached stealthily and softly, the dusk-tide hit them like a wall of water. Aldric’s skin burned as if thousands of needles penetrated his flesh. The energy roared around them, buffeting him as if it held a physical weight.
Soki cried out in ecstasy.
Aldric staggered, cursing. Darkness entered him, cloying and choking. He closed himself off, not needing the dusk-tide power and not wanting it. Its blackness diminished immediately, leaving him gasping for breath.
He looked up. Soki was awash with the darkness. Midnight waves chased with silver painted her skin, touching and caressing. Her fists were clenched, and there was a rapturous smile on her face, which was tilted to the heavens. For long moments she drew in the dusk-tide, imbibing its energy, standing as if turned to stone. Her capacity both awed and frightened him. His own repository was supposed to be large, but if it had been empty, he’d have been replenished by now. Soki’s must be immense. And he could tell she had used dusk-tide sorcery recently, and often.
By the Five, she was exquisite. Blood-red lips and feline eyes, midnight-black hair and pale skin. Aldric had never met anyone like her. Arcane power shone from her, rippling and swirling across her skin, and his blood stirred at the sight. His eyes drank her in.
The dusk-tide vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Soki remained still, chest heaving, exposed skin glowing with sweat. She opened her eyes and pursed her lips, gazing at his chest.
“How can you not enjoy it?” she gasped, breathless.
“It is dark power, and many who use it are twisted.”
“Not all,” Soki said.
“No,” Aldric admitted. “Not all. Some are … exquisite.”
Soki seemed to belie his belief that the dark power would lead to his corruption. She clearly reveled in both dawn-tide and dusk-tide power, and she showed no sign of wickedness. On the contrary, her immense power hadn’t changed the person she was. It had merely given her self-confidence and the certainty that sorcery itself was neither good nor evil.
Or perhaps she was a temptress. A temptation he should avoid. No, he couldn’t believe it. Though a niggling thought did come to him: perhaps he should re-examine his firmly held beliefs.
They dressed themselves in silence before leaving the garden for the busy streets.
~ ~ ~
Aldric was enjoying himself immensely. The restaurant Soki had brought him to was, from the look of the place, far more expensive than he’d usually spend on a meal. But as a sorcerer of considerable power, Soki probably wasn’t short of gold royals. Located at the top of a tall building, the restaurant’s walls were mostly clear glass and overlooked the sparkling lights of the city. To the east, just above the horizon, the red moon, Jagonath, peeked out. Soon it would rise and provide a decent glow through the night, chasing its c
ousin, cold white Chandra, across the sky. The tables were set at a distance from each other to afford some privacy. Soki had wanted to sit close to one of the many fireplaces, but he had steered her to a table against a wall. He liked having something solid at his back and a view of the entire room.
When a neatly dressed waitress came over, Soki ordered for them both. The names of some dishes were foreign to Aldric, but that wasn’t unusual. And he’d learned long ago that his stomach could handle almost anything.
A chair scraped across the floor to the right of them, and he half turned, hand reaching for his khopesh before he remembered he’d left it in the establishment’s cloakroom. He shrugged and turned back to face Soki.
“Have there been many sightings of Dead-eyes lately?” he asked. His encounter with the wraithe and its minions still concerned him.
She snorted and leaned her elbows on the table. “Dead-eyes? Plenty. Mostly on outlying farms. They come out of the forest or down from the mountains and try to steal chickens or calves. The farmers chase them off, kill one now and again. That’s just the way out here: you live wary, or you die careless.”
Their meals arrived, deposited on their table by a surly-looking waiter. He flashed Aldric a stern look, then hurried away.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Soki said. “I usually eat here alone, and he’s always smiling and chatty.”
Aldric had his suspicions. “Perhaps he’s had a bad day?” he suggested dryly.
One large bowl was filled with spicy noodles, and Aldric licked his lips. After his weeks on the road and in the wilderness, he still craved food that wasn’t flatbread or cheese or dried meat, even after the decent meals he’d enjoyed since arriving in Caronath. Another dish was heaped with crustaceans the length of his palm, their shells orange and shiny from being tossed in herb butter, while yet another held roast lamb along with some sort of purple peas.
He served both of them, with Soki asking for an extra helping of a green vegetable side dish.
Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1) Page 12