People dressed in long robes rushed away from us.
I helped Adelgis across the street as Jevel emerged from the building, chuckling the entire way. “You can’t escape me. I’ve hunted far more talented arcanists than the likes of you.”
One robed individual—someone close to the door—walked toward Jevel while his attention was focused on me. Before Jevel could react, the person reached out and grazed Jevel’s hand. Much like with Adelgis’s magic, all it took was a single touch.
Jevel straightened his posture, his reaper cloak falling over his shoulders and concealing most of his body. He held his scythe close and then glanced around with jerked motions, almost as if he were fighting himself. After a short moment, his movements became natural.
“Go get the Watch Battalion,” Jevel shouted to the people on the street. He waved his arm around. “We’ll need this whole street cleaned once I’m done. Quickly.”
The citizens of New Norra nodded and fled the road, obviously overjoyed to comply with the command. Well, everyone except for the one who had touched Jevel. That individual raced across the street and met with Adelgis and me.
“Are you two okay?” the man under the robes asked. I didn’t recognize his voice or appearance, but there was only one explanation.
“Karna?” I asked.
The man nodded. “Come. I have control of the plague hunter. He’ll go that way; we’ll go home.”
Sure enough, Jevel took off in the opposite direction, chuckling to himself the whole way, a sociopath who enjoyed the hunt. Karna played his personality well—just as well as she had played Theasin. I was starting to notice a pattern…
We headed away from Jevel and followed the blue lines painted on the ground toward the docks. I knew we wouldn’t go to the delta, but the lines would get us close to the sky dock, and then we could safely return to the Sun Chaser…
Although we were back on the Sun Chaser, and far from the reaper arcanist, my panic didn’t leave me. We had stayed in the city to find a khepera, and now that we had one, it still didn’t matter. It couldn’t heal the arcane plague. Adelgis was right. Vethica’s magic was too weak. So what had this all been for? Why had Adelgis insisted? Why hadn’t we left New Norra immediately and headed for his father?
I hadn’t voiced my questions. I didn’t need to. Adelgis could hear—yet he hadn’t answered.
Something was wrong.
“Everything will be fine,” Luthair whispered from the darkness as I walked from my storeroom to my father’s quarters.
I didn’t bother answering. At this point, it was difficult to imagine everything turning out well in the end.
With an unsteady hand, I rubbed at my eyes. What would Illia say to me in a moment like this? She always knew what to say—always knew how to pull from the depths of misery. If Illia were here, I was certain she would tell me she would handle the matter. Maybe her eldrin, Nicholin, would crack a joke about how amazing he was and how this wouldn’t be difficult for him to solve.
I wished, more than anything, that I’d be able to see her again.
I entered my father’s quarters—the same officer’s cabin I had grown familiar with. A table. A built-in bed attached to the bulkhead. Cabinets filled with his crafting materials. Tine, his phoenix, sat on her perch, her feathers fluffed. She lifted her head when I entered and said nothing as I shut the door and took a seat at the table.
Then she said, “Your father and Adelgis will be right back.”
I exhaled, my whole body heavy. I had taken the time to bathe and change my clothes, and Adelgis had said to meet him here once I was done.
“Where did they go?” I asked.
“To the Norra Library. Your friend needed reference material, and your father wanted a few things as well.”
I hadn’t seen Vethica or Karna since arriving back on the Sun Chaser. They had gone off together to discuss something, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
“Why did the captain stop the hurricane early?” I asked, hating the silence.
“Bounty hunters were sent to the air dock.” Tine puffed her feathers, revealing her flame body underneath. The white fire shone bright until her feathers relaxed down on her body. “One of the hunters could sense magic, including auras. Captain Devlin didn’t want to risk the safety of the crew. He kept the aura up as long as possible.”
“How did they sense magic?”
Tine shook her head. “Trinkets. One man even said he had a trinket for detecting plague-ridden arcanists. He searched the crew and found nothing.”
With no more questions to ask, I leaned against the table and stared at the grains in the wood. A knock on the door drew my attention. Jozé wouldn’t knock on his own door—who could it be?
“Come in,” I said.
To my surprise, Fain stepped into the room, hesitation in each movement. He gave the phoenix a quick bow of his head and then took a seat at my father’s table. He tapped his blackened fingers on the edge of the furniture.
“Moonbeam said I should meet everyone here,” Fain said. “Where’s everyone else?”
“At the library. I assume they’ll be back soon.”
A couple of minutes passed without conversation. Despite that, Fain seemed to relax, comforted by the stillness. His restless tapping went away, and he better positioned himself, sitting on the bench.
The door opened again, almost startling me. My father walked in, his limp worse than before. Adelgis followed, several books in his arms, including a book with a chain attached to the spine. Typically, the most valuable and rare books were kept in a restricted section—each book was then secured to the wall through the use of a chain, to prevent theft. The books were never meant to be taken away. Had they made an exception for Adelgis, because he was the son of Theasin? Or perhaps my father had used his ability to mold metal to break the chain?
I was about to ask when Adelgis slammed the heavy tomes on the table.
“We have a cure,” Jozé said, unable to restrain a smile.
Fain and I both stood in an instant.
“You do?” I asked.
Jozé nodded. “Now that I had a chance to examine the khepera, I think I have something.” My father hobbled around the table and took a seat. He rubbed at the top of his sore leg, but it didn’t impact his smile. “Adelgis told me about the khepera when they die and how they become the two sands.”
“Okay.” I took my seat back on the wooden bench. “And?”
“I think, if we had enough rose-colored sand, we could have a caladrius arcanist imbue some of their magic into it. Caladrius are the most powerful of healers—anything with their magic is potent.”
I scratched at my neck. “So?”
Jozé reached across the table and smacked my upper arm. “Don’t you get it, boy? That sand heals the soul. With caladrius magic, it’ll cure anything to do with the soul. I know a caladrius arcanist not far from here. Captain Devlin can take us in less than an hour.”
I held up a hand. “Wait. But we need to use the pink sand?”
Jozé nodded. “I think, given what Adelgis told me, we’ll need about three kheperas’ worth.”
“But…” I looked directly into his dark eyes. His enthusiasm hadn’t waned. Did he not know? “If I consume the sand—or use it for a trinket—the khepera will cease to exist.”
“Well, we don’t need to use the tan sand,” Jozé said. He sat back, leaning away from me, his expression shifting to something conflicted. “I have a theory that the khepera might be able to reform with just that. Ya see, the khepera keep bits of soul from their previous arcanists after one dies. That must be what the rose-colored sand is. Which means the tan sand is the khepera’s body—and the khepera might be able to live with just that.”
I stood again, restless and on the verge of anger. “So you want to kill three khepera and take their sand?”
“I just said it might not kill them.”
“This is ridiculous,” I said, curt. “It’s the same as saying, l
et’s cut off this man’s arms to heal you—the surgery might not kill him, and he can live without arms, so it’s perfectly acceptable.”
No one said anything.
I motioned to the door. “Did you even ask the khepera?”
Jozé rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “You realize that arcanists hunt mystical creatures for their parts all the time, don’t you? Where do you think most of the trinket and artifact components come from, boy?”
“The khepera are almost extinct,” I said, unable to hold back my incredulity. “They don’t breed, and there is no fable that creates them. There are only six left—including the one bonded to Vethica. You want me to kill three of them for a one-time cure to the arcane plague?”
It hurt to even speak those words. I wanted a cure more than anything, but killing off a small race of mystical creatures in order to fulfill that desire seemed… wretched.
“Now isn’t the time to be foolishly idealistic,” Jozé stated. “Real life isn’t like a heroic story written for children.”
Was that what he thought? I could hardly believe my ears. It wasn’t my desire to cling to old stories. This was different. More than that.
“I have an alternative,” Adelgis muttered.
Everyone turned their attention to him. Somehow, deep in my gut, I knew I wasn’t going to like this option, either. Everything about Adelgis—from the slumped posture to the averted gaze—told me he knew it, too.
“I know where my father is,” Adelgis continued. “He’s at a place he refers to as the Excavation Site. It’s in all his letters and research notes. But there are a few problems, the first of which is getting there. The Excavation Site is beyond the Lightning Straits.”
Jozé let out a forced huff. “We can’t go through the Lightning Straits. It’s filled with plague-ridden monsters, not to mention the continual thunderstorm. It’s a death trap. No way Theasin made it through himself.”
“He did.” Adelgis said the words with a cold, almost callous, tone.
“There’s nothing beyond the Lightning Straits anymore. All those towns and ports were destroyed. All boats sail around the ridge.”
“Trust me. My father went through the straits, and he’s there now.” Adelgis then turned his focus to me. With telepathy he added, “But you know my father. He’s talented, intelligent, educated, powerful—and he has no regard for anyone but himself. At first, I wanted to reach him because I thought he could cure you, but after everything I’ve read from his labs… I fear this may be a terrible mistake.”
“What did you read in his labs?” I asked, my voice nearly a shout.
Adelgis refused to voice his end of the conversation aloud. “I’m afraid…” He turned his gaze away, unable to meet mine. “Volke, I think he’s capable of more than just altering a labyrinth to claim mystical creatures for himself. He’s… dangerous. But given all that, I do think he has the cure to the arcane plague. Even now, as we speak. He’s been working on it for years, apparently.”
Adelgis’s dithering finally made sense. He had been determined to find his father until we had broken into the labs. After that, Adelgis had changed his mind and suggested we seek out the khepera, hoping to find a solution, even though he hadn’t been certain there would be one.
It was because he realized his father couldn’t be trusted.
If we sought out Theasin Venrover—if we somehow went through the Lightning Straits and found this Excavation Site—there was still a real possibility that Theasin would turn us away, not because he didn’t have the cure, but because he wouldn’t want to share it, for whatever reason.
There was no doubt in my mind that Theasin had little regard for life. And whatever Adelgis had seen in the labs had frightened him—Theasin’s own son.
Once upon a time, Adelgis had had nothing but good things to say about his father. That seemed like an eternity ago. Now Adelgis trembled just thinking about confronting his father.
Fain spoke up with, “Wait, so the options are kill three khepera for a single use cure or travel through dangerous territory to reach Theasin Venrover?”
“This is inane,” Jozé stated. “We can’t entertain the idea of traveling through the Lightning Straits. I know you’ve never seen them, but thunderstorms infest the area and—”
“I’ve seen them,” I said. “I know how dangerous they can be.”
Jozé opened his mouth to say something more, but stopped halfway through.
“Are those really the only options?” Fain asked. He glanced over at Adelgis. “That’s it, Moonbeam?”
“Yes,” Adelgis intoned.
It would be simple to kill the khepera and take their sand. I could be free of the plague in less than a day. But what if I became infected again? What if someone else became infected? This really was a one-time fix to a major problem. If Theasin had an actual cure, it didn’t matter how unfeeling the man was.
What would Master Zelfree say? I could already hear his wisdom, and I agreed. If the khepera really could help heal the soul, then we needed as many khepera arcanists as we could get to fight this menace. I couldn’t kill three of them for my own personal gain. Not when they could go on to great things.
Robbing from the future to deal with the problems of the present was a fool’s tactic.
I had to see Theasin Venrover.
“Please, reconsider,” Adelgis spoke telepathically. “Just cure yourself, return to the Frith Guild, and let me risk the perils of seeing my father.”
I shook my head. “I won’t harm the khepera. I just… can’t. It would go against everything I believe in.”
None of the swashbucklers and arcanists from the old stories would destroy baby mystical creatures for their own gain—not even if they were infested with the plague. I wouldn’t do it.
Not now. Not ever.
32
Securing Passage
“We can’t take the Sun Chaser through the Lightning Straits,” Captain Devlin said, finality in his voice. “It’s too dangerous.”
The captain’s sitting room was filled with people, but no one else spoke, creating an odd atmosphere. The long map table separated one half of the room from the other, and everyone either sat on the leftmost couch or the right. Captain Devlin, Jozé, and Vethica sat together, while Fain, Adelgis, and Karna sat opposite. Only I stood at the head of the table, too restless to relax.
“The storms subside at regular intervals,” Adelgis said. “We could take the Sun Chaser through when the lightning wanes.”
Captain Devlin slammed his hand on the edge of the table, shaking the map and the small wooden blocks used as markers. “That’s not the only problem, dammit. Decades ago, that place became a death trap. Plague-ridden mystical creatures as far as the eye can see. Especially thunderbirds. Those beasts can follow the Sun Chaser no matter how far up we fly.”
It was just as my father had said—the hazards were too great.
Yet Theasin had somehow managed to get through, so it wasn’t impossible, just difficult. If Captain Devlin wasn’t going to take me, I’d have to find another captain willing to make the trek. But who? And what would I pay them with? I basically rode for free with Devlin because of Karna’s good graces. I knew no other ships, no other arcanists, who could help.
“It’s not like you’re defenseless,” Karna stated. She scooted to the edge of the couch, just as riled as the captain. “I’ve seen you fight off plague-ridden creatures hundreds of times in the past. If you wanted, you could take the Sun Chaser through the Lightning Straits with little difficulty!”
Captain Devlin also scooted to the edge of his seat and half-leaned across the map table. “Are you sayin’ you want me to risk the safety of the whole damn crew to get this kid to Theasin Venrover?”
“He helped us,” Vethica interjected.
She kept her young khepera in her arms at all times. Even when Akhet squirmed as if trying to crawl onto the table, she held him close. His lustrous exoskeleton didn’t sparkle in the low light of the
ship’s lanterns, but it still seemed mystical.
Vethica continued, “If it weren’t for Volke, I would’ve died in the Grotto Labyrinth.”
“And the entire crew owes him a debt now?” Captain Devlin snapped. “Do you think someone like Biyu would survive if we had to make a crash landing?”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Jozé said, waving his hand to dismiss the comment. “We could leave the majority of the crew in New Norra—safe in an inn until we return.”
“Jozé, I know he’s your son, but you can’t possibility be arguing we go through with this. Look at your damn leg. If we got into a scrape, you’d be one of the first we lost.”
“The captain makes a good point,” I said, drawing everyone’s attention.
It was clear no one had expected me to say that. Well, Adelgis didn’t seem surprised, I supposed.
The truth was: I didn’t want to endanger the crew. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if something happened to Biyu, or anyone else, while on this trip. And even if we did what my father said—leaving most of the crew behind—I’d be just as distraught if he died. I never wanted anyone to suffer because of the arcane plague running through my veins. No part of me had helped Vethica find the khepera because I’d thought I could compel her through guilt to return the favor.
“I’ll have to find some other way through the Lightning Straits,” I said. I turned for the door, my body stiff. “I’m sure there’s someone in the city foolhardy enough to make the trek.”
Mentally exhausted, I went straight for the storeroom and threw myself on my hammock.
Tomorrow, when the sun rose over the city, I would scour the docks for a captain willing to take me through the Lightning Straits. Until then, I needed rest. I closed my eyes, and despite being fully clothed and uncomfortable, fell asleep in a matter of moments.
And then I was dreaming. It happened so fast, it felt as though I had blinked and become another person. One moment I was on the Sun Chaser, in the darkness of a barely lit room, and the next I was on the deck of the Red Falcon, sailing the open ocean, the midmorning sun shining down with all its glory.
Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4) Page 31
