Revenant Winds (The Tainted Cabal Book 1)

by Mitchell Hogan

  She sat there on the floor in silence. Zarina didn’t speak, seemingly content to let Kurio recover and contemplate what had just happened. There wasn’t a way out of this that she could see, other than to go along with whatever Zarina wanted while looking for any opportunity to gain the upper hand.

  “What is it you want from me?” she said, and it struck her to her core that these were the exact words she’d spoken to Gannon not so long ago.

  All she wanted was to keep her head down and make enough royals to become the richest person in Caronath. Was that too much to ask after her shitty life? But it seemed now she’d been forced to offer herself, and her services, to two different people.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Complications

  ALDRIC WOKE SUDDENLY. THEY’D blown out the lamps before going to sleep on his last night in Caronath, but enough light came in from Soki’s window for him to see outlines in the darkness: the large bed, the desk against the wall, a wardrobe and a dresser, and Soki’s form next to him. Her scent lingered in the air, an expensive fragrance of orange and apple, and her bare flesh pressed against his, hot to the touch.

  But that wasn’t what had woken him. It was as if his wards had been tripped. With a quick check, he determined they hadn’t been. What, then?

  He slipped out from under the quilt. Soki stirred but didn’t wake. Her wards hadn’t been disturbed, or she’d be wide awake too. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  But for some reason, Aldric felt nervous. The shadows around the room seemed to have weight, or were hiding something. His hand reached for his khopesh hanging from a bedpost. He stood, gripping the hilt tight, and half-drew the blade. Dampening his breathing, he remained motionless and listened.

  The wind in the trees outside. The faint groan of timbers. A skittering in the ceiling.

  Aldric relaxed. A rat, he guessed. Maybe that was what had woken him.

  Still his unease remained. He drew the rest of his blade and placed the scabbard on the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. Something wasn’t right; he could sense it. Not through his sorcerous wards but … through the god’s mark?

  The thought shocked him. His divine power could only be used to heal. What was happening? Usually the power of the Five inside him was a calm, gentle thing; but now it roiled and coursed like a raging stream.

  Timbers in the ceiling creaked, as if a weight descended on them.

  Aldric shook Soki’s shoulder. “Wake up!” he whispered urgently.

  Soki looked up at him blearily. “What?” she mumbled.

  A crack split the air above them. Dust and wooden splinters rained down, showering the bed. Aldric grabbed Soki’s arm and yanked her from under the covers. He dragged her to the floor, throwing himself on top of her before she could react.

  A black shape broke through the hole in the roof and landed on the bed with a crash. It looked like a Dead-eye, but wasn’t. Spindly limbs protruded from an emaciated body, but instead of the usual pale skin, this thing was mottled and dark gray. Its fingers ended in sharp black talons. It opened its fanged, lipless mouth and keened—a grating wail that chilled Aldric to his soul.

  The air hummed as both Soki’s and his dormant wards erupted into spheres, sparks flying where they overlapped. Aldric cursed and leaped away from Soki before their shields overloaded and became useless. He jumped between her and the creature, flicking a quick glance at her to make sure she was all right, and brought his blade up.

  “Sorcerer,” the thing hissed at Soki, then sneered at Aldric.

  It charged and was upon him before he could fend it off. Its sticklike arms passed through his shield like it didn’t exist. Claws ripped at his flesh, scoring long gashes across his chest. He dropped his blade and grabbed the thing’s forearms, twisting them away, but it fought with immense strength. It forced him back, and he fell, the creature on top of him. He grunted as it pinned his arms to the floor. It loomed over him, leaning closer. A dark purple tongue like a serpent’s flicked between the gash of its fanged mouth.

  Soki screamed cants. Glittering streaks erupted from her outstretched hands, but somehow bent around the creature. They scored across the bed instead, leaving charred lines and sliced timbers. Her words trailed off in shock.

  Aldric groaned and tried to push the creature off. But for all its thinness, it was heavy, as if made of iron. He couldn’t move it. Sorcery was useless, and the thing was too strong for him. What else could he do?

  He reached for his god’s power and felt it suffuse him. He could keep Soki alive, and perhaps she could escape. Then maybe he could stay alive long enough to think of something.

  As the warmth of his god’s power bubbled through him, the creature screamed in agony. It let go of him suddenly, flesh hissing and bubbling, charred skin leaking crimson. He wasted no time and kicked out with both feet, managing to thrust it away from him.

  Soki lunged at the creature, Aldric’s blade gripped in both hands. Metal bit deep into its neck, and blood spurted. A savage snarl escaped as it turned to face her.

  Aldric leaped and wrapped his arms around its emaciated torso. Smoke poured from its skin where they touched. It wailed, a penetrating scream that almost deafened him. They grappled, its monstrous strength against his muscles, staggering around the room, crashing into the dresser and wardrobe. He hung on, barely, sweat and blood making his grip slippery. He tangled his leg between its thin limbs, and they tumbled to the floor.

  “Kill it!” he yelled as they writhed and jostled for position.

  Soki stood with the heavy blade in her hands, looking frantically between Aldric and the creature.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Aldric shouted. He felt his grip slipping, the might of the creature too much for him.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Soki said, and thrust the khopesh’s pointed tip toward them.

  Sharp steel sliced Aldric’s skin, burning like fire, but most of the blade sank into the creature. It screeched, jaws snapping and body squirming. With a burst of strength, it broke Aldric’s grip and threw him aside. His head slammed into the wall, and the room swam before him.

  He shook himself and saw the thing advancing on Soki. She waved his khopesh in front of her, muscles trembling with the weight of it, her eyes wide and frightened. She wouldn’t be able to hold it off.

  Aldric reached for his god’s mark and threw power at the creature, as if he were going to heal it. The beast clutched its head and wailed. Aldric launched himself at its back, thundering into it. They tumbled to the floor. Soki stabbed the creature again and again. Aldric fended off swipes of its talons, but still they gouged his skin.

  Soon, its flailing weakened, and he felt his strength begin to overpower it. He twisted it onto its stomach and immobilized one of its arms behind its back. Soki stood over them and brought Aldric’s blade down hard into its skull. The creature gurgled and became still. Aldric jerked himself away from its bubbling hide. Its skin was on his arms and hands, hot and sticky.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Soki.

  She nodded, eyes still on the steaming creature, which was leaking blood across her floor. Her face dripped sweat, as did Aldric’s whole body.

  “What is it?” she said.

  He had no idea. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before or read about. “I don’t know. But sorcery didn’t stop it. Only you stabbing it and my god’s power saved us.”

  It was something like a Dead-eye, but clearly more developed and with vastly different abilities, immune to sorcery and able to penetrate wards. There was only one explanation: it was meant to kill sorcerers.

  He looked at Soki and saw from her scared expression she’d realized the same thing. It hadn’t been after him; it had come to kill Soki.

  His khopesh dropped from her fingers and tumbled to the ground with a clang. “If you hadn’t been here …”

  Aldric clasped her cold, trembling hands in his. “It’s over now. It’s dead. Besides, you killed it, not me.”

  A wan smile l
it her face, but was quickly replaced with a grim expression. She kneeled near the creature, peering at its blistering skin. “I didn’t know your god’s power could be used like this.”

  “Neither did I. I’ve never heard of this happening before.”

  He winced and pressed part of his shirt over a particularly deep gash in his chest. Soki’s eyes widened, as if she had only just realized his torso and arms had been scored by the creature’s talons.

  “Can you heal yourself?” she asked.

  Aldric tried to smile wryly, but his lips only twisted in distress. “No. That’s not what Menselas allows. His power is to help others, not yourself.”

  “That’s stupid,” Soki said as she rushed to her dresser. She poured water from a pitcher into a bowl and tore strips of cloth from some shirts in a drawer.

  “It’s the way it is,” Aldric said. He fell quiet while Soki cleaned and bandaged his wounds, providing whatever help he could manage. It would be enough to stop the bleeding until he could find a priest who’d also been touched by his god. When she was done, he rose to his feet, grimacing in discomfort. “I’ll go to my Church. They’ll heal me.”

  Soki prodded the corpse with her foot. “It’s lucky you were awake.”

  “It moved through your wards without disturbing them?”

  She nodded.

  “Mine as well. But something woke me.”

  “Maybe it was your god.”

  Her words made Aldric’s heart beat faster. He tried to control his quickened breathing. “I’ve … I’ve never felt Menselas before. I have his mark, but … only those higher up claim to have felt him directly.”

  Soki arched one eyebrow. “Claim?”

  Aldric shrugged.

  “Well,” she said, “if you ever speak to him, thank him for me.”

  They laughed, and the tension in him eased slightly.

  “I’ll have someone from the Church collect the corpse,” he said. “They’ll want to examine it.”

  Soki shook her head. “No. I’ll do that. I’m curious as well. All of my power and … I was helpless against it.”

  “Far from helpless. You killed it.”

  “All my life, I haven’t feared anything,” she said slowly. “Not since I knew I had the dawn-tide and dusk-tide powers and could shape them. The terrors normal children have … I didn’t. But now … I’ll need to learn to defend myself.”

  “Someone tried to kill you,” Aldric said, putting words to what they hadn’t spoken. “Or something. Can you think of anyone who’d want to do that? A rival perhaps?”

  “No! There’s no one.” Soki rubbed her arms and glanced at the hole in her roof. Through the rupture, stars shone in the night sky. “It’s this mission of yours, you know. It has to be. Your Church wants me to examine whatever you bring back from the ruins. And someone obviously doesn’t want that to happen. You need to be careful. Watch yourself. I’ll hide out for a time. Close up shop, and stay somewhere else.”

  The thought of leaving Soki alone after an encounter like this churned Aldric’s innards with dread. “I’ll make sure you’re guarded.”

  She waved away his offer. “I’ll hire my own people. I don’t trust your Church. Not after this. Only they knew they’d hired me.”

  “Soki—”

  “Don’t,” she snapped. “The priests are just like any other men, and you know it. Someone has a loose tongue, and it almost got both of us killed.”

  That wasn’t fair, and she had to know it. It was fear talking.

  A gust of wind whistled through the opening above them. Aldric shivered and noticed Soki doing the same.

  “Let’s get dressed,” he said. “Then we’ll move this thing out of here.”

  By the time Aldric and Soki had moved the corpse and cleaned up, it was only a few hours until dawn. The creature’s gray skin was coarse and leathery, not unlike sea-ray skin, but thicker. Where the god’s power had touched it, it had burned away. Aldric had been glad to wrap the body in a cloth and drag it down the stairs to a table in Soki’s cold cellar. His wounds continued to pain him, and one had reopened.

  “I’ll find someone to patch the roof in the morning,” said Soki.

  She promised she’d be able to find out why the creature was immune to sorcery, but he had his doubts. She was one of the finest sorcerers he’d ever encountered, but this … It was outside her expertise. She was confident she’d work out how it ticked, because she had to. Right now, she was vulnerable without the sorcerous protection she relied on. It had to deeply scare her.

  ~ ~ ~

  At the church, Aldric kept out of sight as best he could and made his way to the healers. One was always on duty in case there was an emergency during the night. He cautioned the priestess to silence, stating he was on official business for the archbishop, and she saw to him with a bare minimum of questions.

  A short time later, he entered the building on Locust Street. Of Razmus, Priska, and Stray Dog, there was no sign. Presumably they were sleeping in some of the many side rooms. But Niklaus sat at one of the tables. He was drinking already, or was that still? A half-empty bottle stood on the table. As Aldric approached, Niklaus drained his cup and poured himself another measure. It was a spirit, not wine.

  In front of him was a tattered book open in the middle to pages filled with an erratic script. Aldric recognized the language as Skanuric just before Niklaus closed the book with a puzzled expression on his face. Could Niklaus have arranged the attempt on Soki’s life? It didn’t seem plausible, yet someone had. And whoever it was could control creatures Aldric had never heard of before.

  Niklaus looked up at him.

  “It’s early,” Aldric said. “Haven’t you had enough?” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.

  Niklaus sneered. “I don’t tell you how to eat and piss, do I?”

  He kept his eyes on Aldric and drained his cup, as if daring him to say more. Aldric ignored the challenge and slid into a chair on the other side of the table. He placed his khopesh on his lap, making sure he could draw the blade in a moment.

  Niklaus noticed his position, and his eyes took in Aldric’s haggard state and the dark stains on his hands and arms. “What happened?”

  “Something attacked me. You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

  Niklaus’s eyes narrowed. “No. What’s something?”

  “It was like a Dead-eye, but different. Harder, stronger.”

  Aldric kept the detail of its immunity to sorcery to himself. He had no idea who could be trusted. Perhaps no one.

  Niklaus pushed his cup across the table. Aldric shook his head.

  “Drink. It’ll calm your nerves.”

  Aldric sighed, but took the cup. He drained it in one swallow. Harsh liquor scalded his throat, and he coughed. His eyes watered. “Holy Menselas, man. What is this stuff?”

  “Something cheap. It’s good to remind yourself of your past sometimes. So, this not-Dead-eye, did your sorcery work on it?”

  Aldric froze. “You bloody—”

  “It wasn’t me. I told you that already.”

  “Then how do you—”

  “I’ve seen some things over the years.”

  So had Aldric, but nothing like this. And though he’d been educated by the best tutors his Church’s coin could buy, he’d never heard a whisper of creatures related to the Dead-eyes. “And you expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?”

  Niklaus shrugged. He took the empty cup and poured himself another drink, lounging back in his seat. “I don’t care what you believe. I’ve told you the truth. Take it or leave it. I didn’t have to mention what I know at all. Your lady friend—she’s uninjured?”

  Aldric fumed, but he wouldn’t get to the bottom of this by arguing with Niklaus. “Yes. We were lucky.”

  “More than that, I’d say. The ones I’ve seen were hard to take down.”

  Niklaus didn’t know that Aldric’s divine power had damaged the creature, then. A fact best k
ept secret.

  “Where did you see these creatures?” he asked. “Who, or what, controlled them?”

  “A power. One of the old races. A wraithe. We had a … reckoning.”

  Aldric uttered a choked laugh. Niklaus was claiming he’d fought a wraithe and lived. Then Bryn’s words echoed in his ears: He’s a demon in human form, or so some say. And: They’re all dead. A chill swept through him. The deeper he was sucked into this mission, the less he wanted to do with it.

  “You’ll have to tell me the story sometime,” he said.

  “Bah. Same old: a fight, and someone lost. Not me. But I didn’t kill it either. Anyway, this creature—it’s a cousin of sorts to the Dead-eyes. Very rare.”

  Aldric glanced around the room, almost expecting someone to be spying on them, so remarkable was the knowledge they shared. “Who do they serve?”

  “Anyone who can give them what they want.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Why, sorcerers, of course! They eat them. Their power, at least. It’s like a drug to them, highly addictive.”

  “It focused on Soki at first. Maybe I was too small a fish. Where did you see one?”

  “In a city. Somewhere south.” Niklaus frowned. “I can’t remember the name. It was hot and sticky.” He made to drink from his cup, hesitated, then placed it gently on the table. “Perhaps I’ve had enough for now.” He looked Aldric in the eye. “Can you heal memories?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If someone can’t remember something, can you bring it back? Heal their mind?”

  Aldric shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. What I do is purely physical. Perhaps I could take a look?”

  “No. It doesn’t matter.”

  Aldric could tell Niklaus wanted the subject dropped. “What else do you know about this creature?” he asked.

  It had almost killed Soki. It would have if he hadn’t been there. Holy Menselas, he didn’t want to leave her alone now.

  Niklaus gave him a serious look. “Something between the Dead-eyes and the old races. Maybe it was a mutation once; or maybe it was bred, changed by sorcery.”