Divine Blood

by Beck Michaels

  Councilor Lorian stood at the front on a wooden dais with all of his self-importance in his crimson robes. He lazily held up his hands against their growing anger. “I must ask you for silence. We have gathered here to appoint a new council member. There will be an opportunity to discuss other issues at the meeting’s conclusion.”

  The uproar swallowed his orders. Seeing the senseless arguing didn’t end, Lorian gave up trying to get their attention. He may have gained her father’s seat on the council, but he failed to command authority like the other five grim council members sitting at the table behind him.

  Lady Samira sat at her position in the middle. The thin, wizened woman bared a stern glower, body arched within her mauve robes. She wore her white hair pulled back in a plait. Dyna and the councilwoman locked eyes across the room. Dyna quickly looked away to the other council members.

  On the left sat Councilor Pavin; a plump, bald man in light blue robes. Next to him, sat Mathis, a thin and tall councilman with dark hair and a sharp, hooked nose. To Lady Samira’s right sat councilman Xibil with a long gray beard that matched the shades of his robes. His son, Cario, sat beside him. He was a handsome man with a mane of orange curls who drew the attention of half the women in the village.

  And they each had turned their backs on Dyna’s father when he’d pleaded with them to listen. She had planned to do the same, but by their disengaged expressions, they were no more inclined to listen now than they were nine years ago.

  “Why are we here discussing trivial matters?” Wendell barked at them. “The Shadow is coming.”

  Lorian’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “Yes, we know it’s coming. Do you think us fools?”

  One could argue.

  “You look like a fool to me, Lorian,” the farmer growled, earning chuckles from the crowd. “The demon will be here next winter. It is coming to take our children and all you care about is who will sit on the council.”

  The councilman flushed. “The Shadow will not take any more children.”

  “And how do you plan to stop it? By offering it your bony neck?”

  Dyna shook her head. As unappealing as Lorian was, shouting insults at the council would not be in their favor.

  “We are well aware you have no children of your own,” said Duren, a furrier with a family of six. “If you did, perhaps you’d be more concerned.”

  “We have been assembling a few plans,” Lorian snapped.

  “What plans?” another man in the crowd hollered.

  The villagers hurled their questions. A litany of voices all expressing the same essential concern—how will the council keep them safe?

  “Well, we believe demon hunters will be of use.”

  Duren repeated in angry disbelief, “Demon hunters?”

  “That is your plan?”

  “Nothing can kill the Shadow!”

  Councilor Lorian stepped back from their anger. It boiled, beginning to spill over the brim. All shouting to be heard.

  “This is madness!” Wendell bellowed. “We are leaving this place. It’s cursed, and I will not leave my family here for the demon to devour. Come with us if you want to survive!” He grabbed Fleur and dragged her toward the exit.

  The men followed suit, hauling their wives and children in a rush to escape the impending shadows at their backs.

  Shouts blended into one mass roar as fear infected the atmosphere. Dyna felt it fall over her, growing and growing until she could not breathe. People fed into the panic and pushed to get to the door. Fights and screams broke out among the clamor.

  “Enough!” Councilor Lorian shouted. “Calm yourselves! See reason!”

  His pleadings went ignored. Dyna stayed in place, holding onto her grandmother. They pressed their backs into the wall so they wouldn’t be dragged into the chaos. This had to stop, or people would be injured.

  “Lyra?” Dyna desperately searched the writhing crowd. “Grandmother, where is Lyra? I don’t see her!”

  “God of Urn, I hope she stayed outside.”

  Why’d she taken her eyes off her sister? If Lyra was caught in this, she would be trampled!

  A crackle of energy prickled against Dyna’s skin at the charge in the air. Lady Samira’s dark eyes glowed with remnants of gold Essence as it spread throughout her silhouette. She rose from the table, moving slow but steady with the help of her gnarled staff. Her robes trailed behind her small, hunched frame.

  She came to stand by Lorian and her thin arms trembled as she slowly raised her staff and slammed it on the floor with an unexpected force, sending a crack like thunder through the room. A wave of gold Essence blasted outward, and people dropped like sheared wheat. The stunned villagers laid where they fell, groaning but otherwise unhurt.

  Dyna slowly righted herself and helped her grandmother stand where they had fallen against the wall. She searched for that spot of red hair and finally spotted Lyra standing at the doorway with Wren, and the other children who had been playing outside.

  Dyna exhaled in relief, motioning at her sister to stay away. Lyra nodded and led the children away.

  “Are we to squawk and cluck like mindless chickens?” Lady Samira demanded, her harsh tone cutting clear through the silence. She regarded the villagers with a severe glare, arching a white brow and daring anyone to defy her.

  No one did.

  She was one of the last remaining elders with powerful Essence and had earned their respect. But Dyna could see it had taken a great deal out of her. The color leached from her face, and she gripped her staff tightly in her shaking hands to remain upright.

  Wendell cleared his throat. “Forgive us, Lady Samira, but we cannot keep biding our time. The Shadow will come again. Do you expect us to sit around and wait to die?”

  “We have sent an expedition to gather Luna Reeds,” Councilor Cario announced, at last speaking. “We are awaiting their return.”

  Councilor Mathis nodded. “Traveling as far as the Magos Empire will take time.”

  “They left last summer,” another man wearing a leather tanner apron said as he sat up from where he had been thrown. “Either they didn’t survive the journey, or they have abandoned us.”

  Dyna didn’t believe it. No one had volunteered to go on the expedition so the councilors chose a group at random. Well, they insisted it had been a random selection, but she’d noticed those chosen had families. Men with the most to lose if they didn’t return.

  “What if the Archmage discovered who they are?” Duren grunted. “They could be trapped in Magos for all we know, maybe no one is coming at all.”

  Five women gathered in a back corner near Dyna silently wept and held onto each other for comfort. The wives of those who had gone on the expedition, she realized. Every day they must watch the road leading out of the village, hoping and waiting for their husbands to come home.

  Would they return? Or would this be another loss the council deemed necessary?

  Wendell shook his head. “We need to abandon this place. It’s cursed.”

  The villagers agreed in loud calls.

  “You are right,” Lady Samira said, her brisk tone silencing them. “Go on, then. Leave the only protection that hides your wives and daughters from the mages. Go and die fighting the Archmage’s Enforcers when they come for them. You may as well walk through the Forbidden Woods; it will be a much kinder ending.”

  The villagers gasped and murmured at the mention of the dark, looming forest on the eastern side of North Star—the forest they were warned not to enter. Any who dared go in was never seen again.

  Grandmother Leyla’s eldest daughter had been one of them.

  The surrounding crowd stole glances at her, whispering among themselves. Dyna’s grandmother ignored them all, poised and calm as she looked ahead.

  “If you are to survive, you must think and make use of your wisdom,” Lady Samira said. She held out her glowing palm. “Have you forgotten who we are? The mages can sense Essence, especially in women. Once they sense your powe
r, however little it may be, they will come for you.”

  The room fell silent.

  Shoes softly scuffed the floor, and clothing rustled as the villagers settled down on the benches again. Everyone watched the councilwoman with rapt attention. Dyna felt a different fear stirred in them, as it did in her. An old fear they had lived by all their lives.

  “Yes, danger is coming, but we know it is coming and we are planning for it. Here you are protected and free. Out there,” Lady Samira pointed to the door, “are countless unknown dangers. One we know for sure is lurking. There is only a question of when it will find you.”

  The councilwoman wobbled on her legs, her complexion now bone-white.

  Dyna took an instinctive step toward the dais. “Grandmother,” she whispered in warning.

  “I see it,” Leyla whispered back. They slowly weaved their way through the crowd to the front.

  Councilor Lorian reached for Lady Samira’s arm but she shook him off, much too proud for his help.

  “Do not be so quick to run in fear,” she continued after shooting him a glare. “The Great Azeran faced worse. He and the mages of old fought for the freedom you have. They bled for the land you cultivate. We owe it to them to fight for this sanctuary. We are the ones who have brought the Shadow’s curse, and we will be the ones to finish it.”

  The courage of her speech eased the apprehension in the room. Even Wendell released a heavy sigh, and his rigid shoulders slumped. The villagers were still afraid, but the councilwoman’s words offered them hope.

  “Have patience and mark my words—The Fourth Shadow Winter will be the last.”

  “How so?” Dyna asked before she thought better of it. All eyes fell on her. She swallowed, holding Lady Samira’s intimidating gaze. “How do you plan to stop the Shadow? That has yet to be made clear.”

  Lorian smirked. “Were you not listening? We await the Lunar Reeds.”

  “You forget where you first learned of them,” Dyna replied sharply without looking away from the councilwoman. “As I have explained to you before, the amulet’s power only rises under the moonlight. It does nothing against the Shadow. It will still hunt on our land as we cower in our homes. Then when the moon is shrouded, you will once again be responsible for more deaths because you refuse to listen, as you refused to listen to my father.”

  Lady Samira stumbled back a step, staring at Dyna in dismay. She tried to speak but could only inhale gasping breaths instead. Her eyes rolled and she wavered forward, tumbling off the dais.

  The villagers cried out, gathering around the fallen councilwoman. Dyna and her grandmother rushed forward, and a path quickly parted for them.

  “Samira?” Grandmother Leyla knelt beside her and gently checked her for injuries then listened to her heart. “Samira, speak to me.”

  “Oh, don’t fuss over me, you old woman.” Lady Samira’s eyes weakly fluttered open. Her body splayed on the ground like a worn doll. Dyna felt awful for snapping at her.

  “You’re the old woman,” Leyla smiled feebly. “You fell. Are you faint?”

  “I’m fine. Age has gotten the better of me is all,” she rasped. The strength she had displayed before faded away into her pallid complexion.

  “Always trying to save face,” Leyla grumbled as she turned to Dyna. “I didn’t bring my medicine bag. Examine her while I fetch it.”

  Before Dyna could answer, her grandmother rushed out. She gaped after her, shrinking under the critical stares of everyone.

  Chapter 3

  Dynalya

  Once all the fuss had calmed down and the meeting was dismissed, Dyna asked Wendell to carry Lady Samira to the private council room in the back of the town hall building. The councilors were left to wait in the hall as he laid her on a settee.

  Wendell’s shoulders hunched and he twisted his cap in his hands. “Forgive me for raising my voice, Lady Samira.”

  “If you think this is because of you, then you think too highly of yourself,” she rasped. The farmer flushed beneath his beard.

  “I will see to her,” Dyna assured him. He ambled out as she sat in a chair beside Lady Samira. Her grandmother had yet to return so it was up to her to proceed.

  Dyna took the councilwoman’s knotted hand and pressed two fingers to her wrist. It was cold and frail. Almost weightless. Her pulse was too faint.

  “Is this difficult for you?” Lady Samira asked, straining to speak. “Treating the woman who led your father to his death?”

  His smiling face filled Dyna’s mind again. She steeled herself and focused on her task at hand. The question didn’t warrant an answer. She couldn’t trust what would come out of her mouth if she did.

  “I … didn’t believe him. I truly thought the Shadow would not come. After... many times I came to your door but I couldn’t bring myself to knock.”

  Even if the councilwoman had knocked, Dyna may not have opened the door. She had not been in a place to listen.

  Her hands glowed green as she brandished them above Lady Samira’s body in a slow, sweeping motion from her head to her feet. Dyna closed her eyes and let herself drift into the Essentia Dimensio—a plane reached only from within.

  Glimmering bulbs of light in all colors spanned a world of darkness, stretching into oblivion. They represented the Essence of every living being. Surrounding her were luminous bulbs from the council members nearby and those of the villagers in the distance. But Lady Samira’s golden light dimmed in hazy sputters.

  “From that night, I questioned each decision I’ve made…” Lady Samira gasped for a breath between each group of words. “Whether I could judge correctly … whether I have made the correct decision to keep them here.”

  Dyna reached out with her green Essence and brushed it against the councilwoman’s. The gold Essence briefly pulsed bright and an outline of Lady Samira’s body appeared, splintering into thousands of trails. The Essence Channels. Tunnels of translucent light that ran from the crown of her head to the root of her body. They should have been solid, pumping steadying streams of magic as blood does through veins, but her Essence Channels were breaking down, some completely gone. A small dot of light remained at her heart, and it was fading.

  “Am I wrong now, Dynalya? Tell me … will I kill them too? I do not know anymore …”

  Dyna wished Lady Samira would stop talking so she could concentrate. Her hands shook as she tried to revitalize the councilwoman’s Essence with her own. No matter how much she gave, the channels didn’t reconstruct themselves.

  “I am dying.”

  Dyna opened her eyes.

  Lady Samira nodded at whatever she saw on her face. Dyna couldn’t find the right words to reply. As much pain as the woman had caused her, she didn’t want this.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Your sympathy is wasted on me. I had sensed my time to walk through The Seven Gates was nearing … I only accelerated the inevitable by using my last remaining Essence to stop them from leaving … You have nothing to be sorry for. It is I who must speak those words.”

  Lady Samira had never been so docile. Perhaps death had left her rueful, or perhaps it was guilt, but this was not the harsh woman who had addressed the village.

  Dyna fought to stay focused. The use of Essence had drained her energy, arms limp at her sides. She had come to speak to the council. Now may not be the appropriate time, but she may never have another opportunity to be heard. “Lady Samira, I must seek your audience.”

  The old woman studied her. “Speak. Quickly now … I have little time left.”

  “My father told you the truth when he said the Shadow would come. I tell you the truth now—I have found a way to defeat it.”

  Lady Samira’s unfocused eyes hardened with attention. “But?”

  Dyna tried not to cringe. “But it requires that I leave North Star.”

  Immediate refusal arose on the councilwoman’s scowl before she answered. “Dynalya, you are one of the few remaining in our village who can wield Essence.” />
  “My Essence is minimal—”

  “It is useful …You are a healer. You have power … You cannot risk venturing outside the village.”

  “If we could form another expedition, I would not be alone.”

  “No … If you leave, you will attract an Enforcer and be taken to Magos.”

  “I know the dangers, but I must go,” Dyna insisted. “I don’t fear the Archmage.”

  “You must always fear him. The mages will stop at nothing to strip you of all your Essence until you die … Do you understand?” Lady Samira reached out for her. “Forgive me for not saving your father, but I—”

  Dyna pulled away.

  Lady Samira let her hand fall. “You must stay … After my passing, there will be an empty seat on the council to fill.”

  She stared at the councilwoman, not sure if she understood the implication correctly.

  “Pardon, Lady Samira,” Lorian said from the door, his expression barely containing his outrage. “You cannot possibly be suggesting she take it. She is too young—”

  “As I recall … you were only a few years older than her when you joined the council,” Lady Samira hissed, her weakening voice regaining its edge. “If not for her father’s death, you would not have his seat now.”

  Lorian scowled. The voices of the other council members murmured in the hall.

  “I don’t want a seat on the council,” Dyna said. “It gave my father no sway in convincing you of the dangers to come. None of the plans you have sorted will work. But I know how to end the Shadow’s curse.”

  Quiet shock filled the room.

  Lorian glared at her through narrow slits. “Explain.”

  “What I am suggesting is dangerous,” she admitted. “But not impossible.”

  They hung on her every word, waiting for her to continue.

  “There are other sources of powerful magic.”