“And those who were sacrificed, the ones who were used as food for the first eldring?”
“Slaves, dissidents, outcasts, volunteers… Their roles are unknown and unimportant.”
Having witnessed their deaths myself, I disagreed. “My guess is V’loria’s blood is affecting my change. I’m not pure soldier.”
Jem dismissed my assessment. “Fate does play with us all in different ways.”
“That’s your answer? Am I supposed to trust you don’t know more?”
“You have a right to be suspicious, L’tarian. But I’m not here to trick or hurt you. I’ve realized my harsh methods yield no results with your uncooperative nature.”
“You couldn’t have figured that out before you put me in prison?” I snorted a laugh at his blank, uncaring expression. “Let’s say I believe you left your tricks at home. What now?”
“The truth.”
“Damn. You must be desperate.”
“I suppose I am. My experiments have taken a bad turn.”
“And you’re surprised?”
“It was unexpected. I learned a great deal by inhabiting Tam.”
“But you aren’t him. You’re not some great alchemist. Your messing with Tam’s formula is what got Neela killed. So maybe you should stop playing with his toys.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late.”
A chill took me at the foreboding in his tone. “What did you do?”
“Not what I intended, I assure you. People are suffering. Our people,” he added.
“And you care, why?”
Pacing again, shaking his head, Jem halted and put an elbow on the mantle. His shoulders slumped with a bewildered weariness. He ran his hand back over his leathery face, affecting distress. I wasn’t buying it for a minute.
I asked again. “What did you do?”
“Creating a society is difficult. You understand. The rules must be strict. The distinctions must be clear. To operate we need teachers and merchants, laborers and protectors. All must have a function if we are to make this work.”
“You persuaded them to follow you by magic. Divvying up jobs shouldn’t be a problem. Of course, you’re labeling everyone, forcing them into roles of your choosing—trying to mold an entire society on your whim—which makes you an asshole and a hypocrite.”
“It makes me a leader.”
“You’re not leading anyone. What you’re doing to your so-called citizens is no better than what’s been done in the slave camps for hundreds of years.” Maybe it was my imagination, but his gray hide seemed to pale. Shame flickered briefly in his gaze. Good. “Whatever this mess is you’ve created,” I flung an indignant hand in his direction, “go fix it. I’m not interested.”
The glimmer of distress I’d perceived on him vanished. The grin Jem produced after, with one elongated tooth showing, implied he was about to make me interested. “I was attempting to recreate the eldring spell. Problems arose.”
“I’m guessing that’s an understatement.” He offered no argument, and I shook my head. “You condemned what was done to our line. You called the erudite butchers. Why would you force this,” I gestured back and forth between our ruined bodies, “on anyone?”
“I gave them choices. Follow me willingly, embrace the roles they’re assigned, or accept the consequences. Not all are with me against their will, son. Some have chosen to stay. They’ve lost faith in their High King’s ability to protect them. And since no one else is stepping in to assume the role…”
“They’re clinging to the next bully that comes along. Except when they don’t, instead of letting them go, you compel them or turn them into a fucking eldring.”
“I need the information on the tablets. It is the only way to help them.”
“Wait.” I stood. My theory behind our differing changes suddenly had merit. “That spell was designed specifically for our line. It was designed to change soldiers, no one else.”
“I thought I could adjust the parameters to fit any line. I may have adjusted them too much.”
“You mean you fucked with them too much? Say it like it is, Jem. You had no idea what you were doing and now someone else is paying for it. But what I don’t get is why you’re acting like you give a damn.”
“Because I can’t continue until I correct my mistakes. And this particular error has upset the balance. If they breed in their current state and this new race multiplies…”
New race? “What the hell did you do?”
“Aww,” he cooed. “See. There it is; that underlying anxiety in your voice. You do care.”
I stepped up in his face. “I don’t give a shit about you and what you’ve done.”
“You would condemn these poor affected souls to live as they are…out of hatred for me?” Jem assessed me with a wry grin. “How wonderfully callous you’ve become, L’tarian.”
I pushed my rage back. It was like swallowing a fist. “You’re lucky there are people here I care about, or I would drop this place on top of you.”
“That’s right. Forgive me for not asking. How is your Rellan pet? I trust he’s recovered from his hellish ordeal in Langor?”
“Don’t,” I warned.
“Kane should be licking your boots for that rescue. It was impressive. How you sunk the reputation of an entire prison, ended countless lives, not to mention swiped all thoughts of the throne from noble Malaq’s grasp, all for the life of one scrawny man. I’m starting to think you take this nef’taali situation far too seriously.”
“Maybe you should take it more so. Binding with Draken has fucked with your mind. Half your soul is rotting away in that bed with him and you don’t even care.”
Simply, as if there was no weight to the ritual, no significance in the act, he said, “I can take another.”
“You think that will fix you?”
“If Draken dies, I lose half my soul. There is no fixing that. Quell the symptoms, counter them for a while…perhaps,” he shrugged. “I’ve already been mulling over my options. Dear sweet Sienn would do nicely.”
“You stay away from her.”
“Still rushing to her defense? Does that mean she’s forgiven you? Or has another finally melted that ice dam stuck fast between her legs?”
With a quick shove I pushed Jem back into the mantle. I woke the magic in my scars and let their symphony of auras warm my veins. Color took my eyes. The marks glowed. “I’ve noticed something,” I said, tightening my grip. “When I focus my anger, I’m pretty good at choosing who I drain. So if I cast on you, right now, with all the disgust and hatred I have for you, there’s a chance no one else will get hurt.”
“Interesting.” Wincing in my grasp, Jem tried not to look nervous. “Emotion is believed to cloud magic. Yet you’ve improved in spite of it. How remarkable you are, son. But you’re missing the point. If you kill me, how will you save her?”
Hope clogged my throat. Lirih. “Save who?”
“Sienn. What I did, draining her spells, can be reversed. It can all be reversed with what’s written on those tablets. I can help them, L’tarian. I can help you determine what this is.” His eyes raked over the design on my face, and I knew.
“Your scars have never looked like mine.”
Quietly, he admitted, “No.”
I let him go and backed up. “When we met, your skin was muddy, the marks haphazard.” I watched him straightening his ruffled clothes, not sure I wanted to ask. “What about before, in the beginning?”
“There was a neatness, yes, but never a pattern. Not like yours.”
“I can sense like an eldring. I can feel like an eldring. It’s not always by choice. Sometimes, I think I dream through their eyes.”
His enlarged brow arched in surprise. “Well…we may be headed down different paths but apparently they lead to the same place. A place neither of us wants
to go.” Jem took a step. “We share a common need, L’tarian. If we work together, gains can be made on both sides.
He waited for my answer with an air of desperate anticipation.
Only one thing could drive my father to ask for my help. He’s afraid. I glanced at the still-open door and understood. He wants me to go with him.
For weeks I’d been trying to get in. Now, I had an invitation.
“I’m under no illusion you will act on my behalf,” he said, taking my moment of pondering for reluctance. “Even if you choose not to do so for yourself or Sienn, seeing my failures with your own eyes…seeing what I’ve done…I believe you will act on theirs.”
Jem wouldn’t buy eagerness, so I hid it. “Last time we were alone you tried to kill me.”
“I’m fairly certain we’re even there. But I assure you. This is no trap. I need something from you, son. Something I’m willing to set aside our differences for to obtain.”
“And what if I’m not willing to put aside shit for you?”
“Do you think I don’t know what you’ve done? The crown Draken retrieved from you is empty. You never put the power back.” His eyes roamed over me with open scorn. “You chastised me for sheltering the artifact’s magic, yet you have done the same. With every use the scars spread. The colors bleed. It doesn’t matter why your change is different, only that, soon, you will have no hope of reversing it. You and I will be eldring. I need those tablets.”
“Then go get them.”
“I can’t. Not being erudite, crossing bloodlines requires a certain a level of focus that’s proven difficult in my current form. Siphoning abilities from others works for a time, but I must constantly replenish. And the lines fade without warning. If I initiate an oracle spell, I may lack the magic to return.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“Are you fine with me being trapped in the past? I doubt you want me influencing our ancestors any more than I already have.”
“It’s funny. When we first fought over the crown in that cave, right here in Kabri, you begged me not to take its magic from you. You enjoyed it. You were proud of what you’d become. You said you were the future. Guess the future’s looking kind of grim now, huh?”
“I will concede I was unaware of the progression ahead of me. I dismissed its importance because I was strong. My senses were acute. When you ripped the crown’s power out, I thought it would stop. But the spell had taken hold. And now…”
“Now you’re afraid. That’s why you’re dangling this reversal spell in front of my face. You don’t give a damn about me, or Sienn, or anyone else. You want me to save you.”
“My reasons are irrelevant. What’s important is that you, L’tarian, are far too noble to condemn innocents to a life such as ours.”
“Reths can’t afford to be noble. You taught me that.”
“What I’ve created is a new species, a true marriage of our kind and theirs. You must be curious.”
“Not really.”
“See for yourself. Tour my city. Come with me to Ru Jaar’leth.”
“That’s what you’re calling it? Our Divine Paradise? It’s a desert, Jem.”
“When I’m through, Ru Jaar’leth will extend all across Mirra’kelan. It will be a land fit for the gods.” His stare softened. “Come home, son. See what I have made, the good and the bad. Then, I believe, you will change your mind.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I will execute the wretched beasts in your name.” Jem turned on his heels. “If you’re coming, make it quick. I have an empire to run.”
TWENTY THREE
The stadium was quieter than my last visit. The view was more colorful and less disorienting without my previous pain-filled glimpse through the eldring’s eyes. The expansive, raised dais where I stood butted up against the head of the arena. Stairs led off at multiple points, giving access to the rows of stands extending out from both sides of the platform. Their bottom walls flanked the empty rectangle of moon-lit sand; darkened by shadows and the occasional stains of death.
I turned away from the platform’s edge. Running a sleeve over my face to mop up the sweat, I eyed the source of the added heat: rotund cauldrons of fire that outlined a clear path all the way to Jem’s throne situated at the back wall. His chair was an odd metal construct with a narrow frame and an exceedingly high back. Its surface twinkled from what I estimated to be hundreds of polished stones pressed into the structure and hugged tight by coils of wire. Though it wasn’t grand or inspiring as one might imagine for an emperor’s throne, when my father woke the stone’s auras, a brilliant halo of color would surround him. To a Shinree, it would be an impressive and magnificent sight.
A cage sat to the right of the throne. Based on the size, it was the same one I’d occupied when my failed oracle spell dumped me inside the eldring. This one, though, had a tarp thrown over the top. Its heavy, dark fabric hung down all four sides, leaving nothing visible but a glimpse of hay-strewn floor and an inch of the iron bars encasing it. Animal muskiness and the odor of damp straw filtered out. Quiet breathing overlapped the soft shuffling sounds of movement.
The guards stepped closer. One pointed his short sword in Jem’s direction, grunted, and moved in front of me. Another joined him. I started forward and two more moved in behind. More guards stood in stoic lines on the other side of the fire pots, a dozen on each side. Most were Langorian and Kaelish. A few were Shinree. I tried not to stare, but seeing my kind outfitted for battle was jarring.
Our procession came to a halt ten paces from Jem’s throne. My escorts stepped aside. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, smiling like he’d reeled in the biggest fish in all the realms.
Behind me, one of my escorts grunted. “Kneel.”
I laughed. “No way.”
He cuffed me in the head. “Kneel before your Emperor.”
“I’m not fucking—”
The weight of a Langorian club struck the back of my legs; another, my shoulder blades. Strong hands pushed me down. Catching myself just short of smacking my face on the floor, I noticed the rut a few inches in front of me. Less than a foot wide, the channel encircled Jem’s entire chair. Inside it was Jem’s personal protection against the spell-warping effects of the hornblende wall: water.
But why would he need it? The moat should be enough.
Was their more of the dark stone within the city? Or was Jem just that paranoid now?
A violent tug brought me to my knees. The guard to my right gripped my head and lifted it, forcing me to look upon my father’s smug face.
“My apologies, L’tarian,” he said, though Jem’s tone held amusement only and no regret. “We encourage etiquette here. Impudence will not be tolerated, especially from my own child.”
With a nod from Jem, the man jerked me up off the floor. I straightened, wincing at the pull in my bruised shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”
Jem rose from his chair. “My cooks are learning to prepare a wide range of traditional Shinree meals. I believe you’ll find them enjoyable.”
“Last time we had dinner you put Kayn’l in my soup and chained me to an altar.”
He sighed. “Perhaps you’ll have more of an appetite after your tour.”
“You’re wasting your time. If you think you can dazzle me with your accomplishments, so I won’t be horrified with your screw ups, don’t bother. There’s nothing you can show me that will convince me what you’re doing here is right.”
“Right or wrong, we need each other in this. Bring me the tablets and I will give these wretched creatures back their lives. I will remove your scars and return what I’ve taken from Sienn.”
Waiting for me to reply, Jem smiled his annoying toothy smile. I wanted to rip the fangs right out of his mouth. But his guards were on all sides, visibly eager to put me down. And engaging my father in conversation was
my only hope of learning anything about Lirih.
“Fine,” I said.
“Excellent.” Jem gestured at the cage and we walked toward it together. “I hope you understand, son, I truly want us all to live together in harmony.”
“With you as Emperor?”
“Well,” he said, humbly, as if I’d just endorsed him for the position. “Draken isn’t well enough to rule. And I’m confident, in time, your friend Roarke will come around.”
“Malaq will never bow to you.”
“We shall see.” Jem reached for the tarp. He gave a quick yank. I hadn’t thought to be affected or surprised as the covering fell away. I’d seen my father’s transformation in various stages. I’d seen the birth of the first eldring. I hadn’t expected to see anything too different this time. But the cloth fell away, and my experience suddenly meant nothing. My expectation was way off the mark; crushed under the furious pounding of my pulse as light from the firepots reached inside the cage and revealed its contents.
He hadn’t lied, or even exaggerated. My father had performed nothing less than a marriage of our two races, a conjured offspring of Shinree and eldring; a true half-breed. Her face, neither Shinree nor eldring but something stuck perfectly in between, betrayed clear femininity. Her animal-like body bore the undeniable curves of a woman. Despite what had been done to her, she was still beautiful in her own, feral way. I was fairly certain, though, no one else would grasp that fact but me.
No matter what the truth, every man thinks his daughter is beautiful.
TWENTY FOUR
Only iron was between us. It was still too much.
“Let her out.” Getting no immediate response, I flung my best intimidating glare at Jem. “Let her out now.”
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Borne Page 20