The Grand Inquisitor seemed to glide away from them, fading from view almost as quickly as he had appeared.
“I don't trust him,” Faxon said softly, peering after the younger man. “Not even a little bit. And I don't like how he implies he knows something about you that he doesn't, Tia.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he does know.”
Faxon snorted. “If he knew, you'd be in a cell or censured. There is very little grey in Adamon's sense of justice. There is black and white, and woe betide the poor individual who tries to convince him otherwise.”
“What about this artifact,” she asked, addressing the thing that was bothering her far more than what Adamon knew or didn't know. “Do you really think its theft is related to the Captain's body, Wynn?”
The younger quintessentialist tugged at his lip for a moment before he shrugged, his eye meeting hers.
“I don't know. Adamon makes a good point about the requirements for reanimation not being met, but I think it's too much, too close together, to be a coincidence. I don't have the resources of the Grand Inquisitor, but if I had to guess, I'd say Adamon is hiding something.”
“Which wouldn't surprise me in the slightest,” Faxon interjected. “I think if we're going to investigate the theft alongside the disappearance of the Captain's body, we should do it ourselves, and do it discretely. I'm not sure I want Adamon looking over my shoulder any more than necessary.”
Tia had to admit that she wasn't fond of that idea herself. The less time she spent around Adamon, the better. It also seemed as if Faxon and Wynn were willing to put a good effort into finding out what was going on. That surprised her a bit. With as contrary as Wynn had been since leaving King's Reach, she'd expected him to oppose the idea.
“So where should we start?” Tia hoped one of the mages would have an idea. The prospect of trying to track down the thieves with as little information as they had was daunting. Wynn shot her a wry grin.
“In the library, my dear Tia, but of course.”
Tiadaria groaned and the quintessentialists laughed. Her dislike of research was legendary, as were the lengths she would go to avoid it. Still, in this case, she knew they were right. The library probably was the smartest place to begin their search.
“Alright,” she conceded with a sigh. “I suppose that's fair.”
Faxon stepped away from Tia and Wynn and motioned toward the city.
“I'll let the two of you get started. I need to go and see where my journeyman has gotten off to now.”
“Tionne?” Tiadaria knew that Faxon had taken her on as his private pupil, but she'd never heard such exasperation in his tone when he spoke of her. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” The older quint smiled. “She's just being a teenager. Nothing I can't handle. I'll see the two of you at the inn later.”
He strode off, leaving Tia and Wynn beside the ruined tomb. They stood there in silence, as if Faxon's exit had suddenly widened the gulf between them. She hated that. Hated feeling as if she'd broken his trust in a way she could never fix.
“We should probably get to work,” Wynn said, stepping away from her in the direction of the cemetery gate.
“Wynn? Wait!”
He paused, then slowly turned to face her. Now that she faced his full regard, she found it harder to put the words together. She'd been practicing things to say, things that might start mending the rift between them, but they all went out of her head when she saw the hurt in his face.
“Can we talk for a minute?” Her tone was plaintive. “Please?”
For a minute, she thought he was going to turn around and walk away. Then he shrugged and sank to a stone bench beside the path. She sat down beside him, searching his face.
“Sure,” he said with a sigh. “Though I'm not sure what there is to talk about.”
“I just want you to understand why I couldn't say yes. It isn't because I don't love you. I do. It's just...I'm scared. There, I said it. I'm scared of what happens next.”
“Scared?” Wynn was incredulous. “Of what?”
Tiadaria stared at the distant horizon for long time before she answered. When we finally did, her voice was soft and quiet.
“Scared of you resenting me. Of resenting the fact that I have to drop what I'm doing at a moment's notice and leave on some task for the King, or Faxon, or whoever. I've seen the way you look at me when I leave, sometimes. I don't want you to hate me for what I am.”
“I don't hate you for what you are, Tiadaria.” Wynn sighed again. “I just wish you could include me. Didn't you ever wonder how I had so much free time to plan an entire wedding without you being any the wiser? It wasn't just about the excuse of 'Order business'. You just weren't around that much. I had lots of free time to do the planning.”
He stopped then, and Tiadaria was afraid that he might stop talking completely, but he swallowed loudly and went on.
“I guess I had a lot of time to dream up a reaction that didn't match reality. I don't need you to be anything other than who you are, but I'd like to be included.”
“Well, you have your tasks at the library, and...” she trailed off at the look he turned on her.
It was a weak excuse and she knew it. The library in King's Reach was little more than a room with a few moldering tomes and some very basic educational texts. Wynn had taken to teaching some classes there, but she knew that was more out of boredom, probably exacerbated by her absence, than anything else.
“I just want to feel like you need me, Tia.”
“I do need you.” She reached up and touched his seamed face, where the old scars had drawn the skin down into deep valleys. “I just don't want you to get hurt.”
Wynn got to his feet with an abrupt motion, as if he could cut off the conversation by jumping out of it. He turned to her and his eyes were troubled.
“There are a lot of different ways to get hurt, Tia. Come on. We have work to do.”
#
A cock crowed somewhere in the distance, heralding the dawning of a new day. Tionne was exhausted. It had taken her an entire night of following the bloodstone's gentle pull to find the plain, squat building she stood before.
Like the Turgid Eel, this building was nestled in the shadow of the massive curtain wall at the outskirts of the city. Unlike the Eel, there was nothing welcoming about this place. There were no windows and the only door that Tionne had found was a massive, sturdy thing of oak, banded with iron, and set in a thick frame. Everything about the building seemed determined to put off the casual observer, but still the bloodstone pulled her toward it. If Nerillia and her people were in the city, they'd be inside.
The eastern sky was growing pink and soon the sun would be climbing over the horizon. Ignoring the coldness in her gut, Tionne raised a pale hand and rapped sharply on the door. The knock seemed to echo down the street and Tionne was sure a guard would come racing out of the alley at any moment. Her heart thundered in her ears and pounded in her chest.
This was stupid. What had she been thinking? She'd just decided to flee the building and forget all about Nerillia when the door opened just a bit. A familiar face peered out at her, then broke into a smile. Tionne let her breath go in a sigh. A delicate grey hand reached out and took Tionne by the wrist, drawing her into the dimly lit building.
Once Tionne was inside, Nerillia pushed the door closed and slid a series of large bolts into place, including one that ran the length of the door and slid into a hole in the floor. Then she put her hands on Tionne's shoulders and turned her this way and that, as if appraising her.
Tionne glanced around the room. It was easy to see why the building was so foreboding from the outside. The entry was a common room and the space had, at some point in a former life, been an inn or halfway house. A long bar ran the length of the room in the back, though it was shrouded in a thick layer of dust. No drinks had been served there in a long time. The windows had been boarded over and secured from inside. A new facade had been put up on the exterior
, hiding any evidence that there had been any windows at all.
There were tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. Oil lamps burned on a few of the tables, making islands of light in the darkness. Nerillia's eyes seemed to burn brighter in the darkness, a soft crimson glow that felt as if it should have been unnerving, but wasn't. In fact, Tionne felt more at ease with this stranger than she did with most people whom she had known for her entire life.
“You found us,” Nerillia said happily. Her voice was light and sweet, but still held the curious deep burr that Tionne had first heard in the Turgid Eel. “See? I told you we had much in common. Come with me.”
Nerillia took her hand and Tionne felt the pins and needles of link shock dance between them. That simple touch had sent the blood rushing to her head and Tionne felt as if she'd been plunged into a hot bath, though the interior of the safe house was cool. The Lamiad shot her a sidelong glance and smiled. Tionne wondered if Nerillia could sense her reactions as easily as she seemed to touch her thoughts.
They stopped in the center of the room and Nerillia leaned toward Tionne. The Lamiad's cool breath against her ear sent a shiver up Tionne's spine.
“I can,” Nerillia whispered. Her hand brushed the hair away from Tionne's eyes and trailed down her cheek to her neck, her fingers lingering there until a peculiar grating interrupted them.
Tionne looked up to the balcony that extended around the second floor of the building. She tried to scream, but the sound came out as a hoarse grunt. She stumbled backwards, tripped over a chair, and landed on her rear. Her feet worked spasmodically against the floor, pushing her up against the far wall. Her mind commanded her to run, but her body wouldn't cooperate. The terror that gripped her was all encompassing. The monster that stood at the top of the stairs was the same that she had seen in her dream.
A moment later, Nerillia was crouched beside her. Through her panic, Tionne could make out the faint odor that followed the Lamiad and found it calming. She gulped breath, trying to get herself under control while Nerillia whispered in her ear.
“It's okay. Zarfensis isn't going to hurt you. He's one of us. Just as you are one of us.” She turned toward the stairs, raising her voice. “Please come down, Your Holiness. I'm afraid your presence startled our newest friend.”
The Xarundi remained silent, but navigated the stairs with careful steps. As her panic subsided, Tionne saw that one of his legs was a ruin of twisted, blackened metal and melted rubber. After what seemed like hours, Zarfensis stood at the foot of the stairs. His ears flicked back, then swiveled forward as he regarded Tionne with one bright blue eye.
“I've seen you, child,” Zarfensis growled in a passable approximation of the low tongue. “In the Quintessential Sphere. In your vision.”
“I remember.” Tionne was glad that her voice was stronger than she felt. She managed to get to her feet with just a little help from Nerillia. “That was just a dream. A nightmare. You said we were bound by blood.”
The Xarundi shook his head.
“Not a dream, child. A vision of the future. A portent of things to come. We are bound by blood. It was I, Zarfensis, who killed your parents and gorged on their flesh. I drank deeply of their blood. The blood that courses through your veins.”
Tionne heard the words, but wasn't sure she was really comprehending their meaning. The entire experience was surreal and supernatural, leaving her feeling slightly less than grounded. She also didn't understand why, discounting her initial flood of panic, she didn't feel afraid. She was standing across the room from the monster that, by his own admission, had slaughtered her parents.
“Go on,” Nerillia said with an encouraging shove in the small of Tionne's back.
The young quintessentialist let the momentum carry her forward a few steps and then she hesitated. There was a knot in her stomach, but that wasn't the same as fear. The Xarundi stretched a hand toward her. Tionne could see the indentations at the tips of the strong fingers, where the claws could appear at a moment's notice.
Even with the mangled leg, the Xarundi could easily have killed her by now if it had wanted to. She was within striking range of the sharp claws and if he chose to end her life, there was little she could do to stop it. Mastering the last of her misgivings, she closed the distance to Zarfensis and stood before him.
The High Priest took her by the shoulders, just as Nerillia had done moments before. Tionne had to look up at him and she saw his nostrils flare. His breath was hot on her forehead.
“You don't smell like other vermin, child.”
“Um,” Tionne stammered. “Thanks? I think?”
The Xarundi dropped his jaw in a feral grin. “You smell of the Dyr, the rune of death, decay, and disease. I think your essence is older than you know. Your soul was born into the wrong vessel. Perhaps you should have been a Xarundi, or a gargoyle, or a Lamiad.”
“I'm not sure what that means,” Tionne answered candidly.
“You are different from the rest of your kind. You are special. Can you not feel it?”
Tionne wasn't sure what she thought, or what she felt. Suddenly the room was spinning and she tipped forward. Only the quick reflexes of the High Priest kept her from falling down. The next moment, Nerillia was beside her, her strong but delicate hands holding Tionne against her.
“She's exhausted, Zarfensis. Perhaps we can continue this later?”
Zarfensis nodded.
“See her to a room and make her comfortable. Then return to me.”
“Of course, Your Holiness. Come along, Tionne.”
Nerillia put a hand on her elbow and guided her up the stairs onto the balcony. Tionne felt the weight of Zarfensis's eye on them as they climbed the stairs and circled the balcony leading to the farthest room. The Lamiad opened the door and motioned for the young mage to enter the room.
Tionne didn't bother to hide her surprise at the room she was ushered into. While the rest of the safe house was in a state of disrepair, this room was pristine. Fresh linens adorned the bed, the floor was polished to a bright shine, and a small oil lamp burned on the bedside table. Tionne sat down on the bed and sighed with relief. She'd nearly forgotten how tired she was.
She tried to express her gratitude, but Nerillia shushed her. The Lamiad's deft fingers removed her boots and robes, folding the latter and draping them over a nearby chair. She tucked Tionne under the cover and turned down the lamp. As it was doused, Nerillia's glowing eyes were the only light in the bedroom.
“Sleep well, Tionne. We'll talk more when you wake.”
Tionne was asleep before Nerillia had left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
#
“Did the child give you any trouble?” Zarfensis asked as Nerillia returned to the common room.
“Of course not. The pheromones will see to that. Though I won't even need those in due time. She's smitten with me. I can feel it in her thoughts.”
“That could work to our advantage.”
Nerillia regarded the High Priest for a moment.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked. “About her being different? About her smelling different?”
“Yes. She is different. I don't know how, or why, but she is no vermin. She has the soul of a Chosen. Perhaps that's why she's been out of place for so long. Why you feel the draw of blood from her. I feel the power of the Dyr within her. That child is destined for great things.”
“How will that help us?”
“She will do what needs to be done, even without your wiles. She will feel compelled to obey the will of the rune.”
Nerillia studied Zarfensis's face, her eyes tracing the deep seams of scars that ran along one side.
“You're sure the rune will guide us?”
“The Dyr craves death and what better way to feed its hunger than to turn our creation loose in the city?”
“And what of the dragon?”
Zarfensis winced at her simple question. Nerillia wasn't sure what power the dragon held ove
r the High Priest, but whatever it was, the Xarundi felt it keenly. Though she didn't want to needle the High Priest any more than was needed, she had her own goals to see to fruition. If their plan failed for any reason, it wasn't only the Xarundi who would suffer for that failure.
“Stryne wants only to see the humans driven from his ancestral homeland. He has said that we are free to go about with our other plans once his goal has been achieved.”
Nerillia wasn't sure if the High Priest was trying to convince her, or himself, of that rather large leap of faith. While it was true that the dragons were largely gone from Solendrea, she wasn’t sure that she would trust the mammoth beast to keep its word. Everything she had ever heard about dragons was that they were vile, treacherous creatures who placed very little value in the lives and plans of anything outside their own realm of influence.
“Let's assume that he does allow us to go our separate ways. Then what?”
“Then the Chosen will recover all the lands the vermin have taken from us and you will have your...payment.”
The High Priest winced again and Nerillia knew exactly what he was thinking. Zarfensis had vehemently denied her original request. He wanted nothing to do with the fee she had requested for her crucial role in the plan. However, she'd worn him down through negotiation and guile. Eventually she'd gotten exactly what she wanted, though she knew it bothered him greatly.
“Which is?” She asked, prodding the Xarundi into saying the words. She needed to hear it. More importantly, she needed to assure herself that he remembered the terms of their arrangement.
“The agreement is that upon dispatch of the vermin and return of their lands to the rightful owners, you will take possession of the Deep Oracle.”
“Very good.” The smile that crept across Nerillia's face was as cold as the Frozen Frontier.
“I still don't understand--”
“It doesn't matter what you understand,” Nerillia snapped, cutting him off. “All that matters is that you'll remember and honor the terms of our agreement when the time comes.”
The Swordmage Trilogy: Volume 03 - The Pegasus's Lament Page 7