“That’s right. If your reputation is to be believed, you’ll have no trouble helping me move things across the seas. Maybe even into the Argo Empire. Maybe even to the far northern islands.”
“You want me to be one of your smugglers?” I chortled. “My talents would be wasted bringing things from point A to point B. Any ol’ cutthroat can do that.”
“The cargo is so important that I’d only trust a man of your talents to deliver it.”
After the last statement, Calisto sat straight in his chair, clearly interested. I was as well. From what I remembered of the last dream-memory, the Marshall of the Southern Seas had been smuggling mystical creatures, specifically the legendary kirin. What could be more important than those?
“You’re not very good at negotiations,” I said. “Now that I know you need my services, the price has doubled.”
Maddox opened a drawer in his desk and rummaged through the contents. “Oh, no, no. We won’t deal in coins. This is beyond gold. I’ll be paying you in magical power.”
“Trinkets and artifacts have price values. We still need to talk numbers.”
“What I’m offering is priceless. Beyond your imagining.”
The words were spoken with a haunting kind of glee.
“You just have priceless magical power lying around, huh?” Calisto asked. Then he crossed his arms. “You sound like you’ve been day drinking, Maddox. Might want to sober up before you make agreements.”
I shot Calisto a sideways glower. He responded with a sneer before leaning back in his chair. Despite Calisto’s outburst, the marshall didn’t seem upset. The opposite, in fact—like he was delighted to have a chance to prove Calisto wrong.
Maddox withdrew two glass vials from a drawer. He slid them across the desk, and they twirled twice before stopping right at the edge. The crimson contents almost seemed black in the dim lighting.
“Blood?” I asked.
Maddox tapped a thick finger on his desk. “Have you ever seen arcanists with glowing white marks? The ones who have achieved a true form of their eldrin?”
“Once or twice.”
“Their eldrin are more powerful than normal, but the method of acquiring such a transformation is still baffling. Now there’s a way to force it. That’s what the blood is. A means to have your eldrin transcend into its perfect form.” Maddox held up both hands as he said it, his fingers spread.
Calisto chuckled, but didn’t offer commentary.
“I’m skeptical,” I said as I picked up the vial and turned it over in my hand. “How do I know it works?”
Maddox removed his tricorn hat and then yanked off his blue bandana. His hair, slick with sweat, was stuck to one side and puffed on the other—but his arcanist mark demanded all my attention.
It glowed red. The star. The typhoon dragon.
A part of me had feared the vials of blood were the arcane plague, but I thought this was too far in the past for that to be the case. Now I knew they were. The Marshall of the Southern Seas had been infected, and the plague had gone on so long—he had consumed enough magic—that he now had a dread form dragon as an eldrin.
Why weren’t Zelfree and Calisto running from the room? Was this really the first time they had ever encountered the arcane plague?
If I could have laughed, I would have. The marshall was tricking them into thinking the plague was a boon—and since Zelfree and Calisto had never encountered it before, they didn’t know what they were getting in to. This snake oil salesman would sell them a product that would twist their minds and warp their eldrin.
When I really thought about it, the whole situation disgusted me. Maybe that was how Maddox had been tricked. Perhaps before the plague had become a rampant problem on the high seas, it had been secretly given to powerful individuals as a way to “force their eldrin to transform.” If that had been the case, they had gotten exactly what they’d wanted—only they hadn’t realized the price of the change would be their sanity.
I stared at Maddox’s mark then glanced back at the vial. “This blood did that?”
“That’s right,” Maddox said. “You take a swig of that, and you’ll never be the same. Suddenly, everything will make sense. You’ll have power and control. An amazing thing, that is.”
Calisto took the other vial and uncorked it. He sniffed the contents. “This isn’t human blood.”
Maddox rested back in his impressive chair. “I wasn’t involved in the creation. I’m just a middleman.”
“You want us to deliver this?” I asked.
“That’s right. I need you to deliver several other vials to specific individuals. But now you know they’re precious—that’s why I need someone like you to carry out this operation.”
There wasn’t much blood in the vial, but the arcane plague only needed a few drops to take hold. Was Master Zelfree really giving thought to drinking it? Would he really deliver it?
“You don’t want us to smuggle kirin?” I asked. I kept the vial in hand, still twirling it about. “That’s why I contacted you in the first place. I want one.”
“Ah, well, I can secure one of those for you. I’m friends with the ruler of the kirin village. The Autarch owes me a few favors.”
Wait, what?
But Zelfree didn’t seem to care about the mention of an Autarch. He continued the conversation as though nothing interesting had been spoken.
“I want a kirin foal, then,” I said. “And I’ll deliver your blood.”
“That’s it?” Maddox chuckled. “You’re cheaper than I thought you’d be, Simon. Perhaps you’re not as skilled a negotiator as you thought you were.”
“I also get to keep this,” I said as I held up the vial.
“Most certainly. But only if you take it now.” Maddox smiled, the red glowing mark on his forehead transforming his expression into a terrifying sight. “I want you both to admit you feel the power rushing through your veins.”
“How do I know this isn’t some poor attempt to poison us?” I asked.
“I’m bonded to a typhoon dragon. You’re on my ship, with my crew, surrounded by my arcanists. Trust me, if I brought you here to kill you, there are faster and easier ways to do it. You just gave me such a skeptical reply earlier, and now I want to prove you wrong.”
Calisto snorted and then gulped down the blood, no more questions. He tossed the empty vial onto the desk. “Happy?” he asked. “Because I don’t feel a damn thing.”
I knew—from years of experience—that the arcane plague didn’t affect arcanists and mystical creatures who were immune to blood diseases. All man-eating creatures were—which included manticores. It didn’t matter if Calisto drank the blood or not, he would never be infected.
But Zelfree…
I uncorked the vial and swirled the contents. Then I brought the container close to my lips and tilted my head back. Dread filled my thoughts, but that emotion vanished the moment I felt liquid trickle down my sleeve. Zelfree had the sleight-of-hand skills to make it appear as though he had consumed the blood, but instead, he had dumped the vial’s contents into his coat. Thankfully, the dark leather of my clothing hid the small amount of crimson now sticking to my elbow and shoulder.
I placed the vial on the desk and smiled. “An interesting sanguine aftertaste. What year was that? ’86? ’87?”
Maddox sneered. “Don’t you feel it?”
“A slight tingle. But that may just be my overwhelming disgust.” I stood from my chair, careful to keep my tainted sleeve up, just in case any blood would trickle out. “If we’ve concluded with our arrangements, I have other matters to attend before I become a courier for your blood.”
The Marshall of the Southern Seas motioned to the door. “The shipment will come in a week’s time. You’ll get all the details then. Make sure you’re near the Lightning Straits.”
Calisto and I left the marshall’s quarters without another word. Once outside, on the deck of a ship I didn’t recognize, and shivering from the cold sea winds, I
shook my head.
“I can’t believe you drank that,” I muttered. “Are you insane? Or have you been day drinking?”
“He said it would give us a true form eldrin.” Calisto shot me a glare. “Didn’t you end up drinking it?”
“Of course not. That man can’t be trusted.”
“Even if that’s true, now what? The marshall didn’t admit to anything heinous. Redbeard is more of a monster than that man.”
“Perhaps. First, I’m going to take this blood back to the Frith Guild,” I said as I lifted the sleeve of my coat. “I have a feeling this is exactly what we were looking for.”
41
Arrival
I awoke with a million questions at the edge of my thoughts. The darkness of the cabin told me it was still night. In an attempt to organize my mental issues, I tried to connect everything together.
The Second Ascension were the ones who created the arcane plague. They had done so to spawn the legendary god-creatures. Somehow, and many years ago, they had infected the late Marshall of the Southern Seas. That man had helped them spread the plague by working with pirates.
He had also been smuggling kirin.
And the person who ruled over the kirin was someone named the Autarch.
I had heard the Autarch mentioned twice before—once from Redbeard, and once from the woman in Theasin’s lab.
Theasin…
Were they all connected? Perhaps the late Marshall of the Southern Seas and Theasin himself were members of the Second Ascension. If that was the case, perhaps Theasin wanted the Mother of Shapeshifters because…
Because…
I didn’t know. Even if everything was somehow connected, I didn’t know why. What motive did everyone have to do this? I understood the marshall being tricked and driven to lunacy—the plague coursing through his body explained his shift to power-hungry tyrant—but I knew next to nothing about Theasin’s personal goals, and I knew even less about what this Autarch person wanted.
But they were connected. I could feel it. All of it. Somehow.
Adelgis sat up from his bed. He glanced in my direction, even though he couldn’t see in the dark. “Volke…”
“Yeah?” I whispered. Fain was still asleep.
“I had similar thoughts and concerns,” Adelgis said. “That’s why… I had hoped we could avoid speaking to my father. What if he’s a member of the Second Ascension? What if he harmed the khepera for the Second Ascension’s benefit? What will we do then? I promised you we would find a cure, and he’s the only one I know to turn to.”
My chest tightened as I took in shallow breaths.
I had no idea what we would do then. I supposed we’d have to fight Theasin, but then…
Adelgis shook his head and stood from his bed. He crossed the room with soft footsteps and stood next to me. “I’m sorry for bringing this up. I know it upsets you, but I think it’s best not to worry about it until we can speak directly with my father. We’ll get our answers then, I swear it.”
How could I sleep at a time like this?
“Don’t worry,” Adelgis said. “I’ll help.”
He touched the side of my neck, and then a haze came over my mind.
I was forced back to sleep.
When I awoke again, it was to the gentle shaking of my shoulder. I rolled over, confused and half awake. Although the cabin was dark, my eyes had no trouble identifying Karna. She lay on the bed next to me, dressed only in a long tunic and trousers.
“Volke?” she whispered.
I grunted some sort of response as I positioned myself on my back. Karna curled into the spot under my armpit, and I rested my forearm over my eyes, tempted to fall back asleep.
“I need to speak with you,” she said.
I tensed and sat up, my grogginess gone in an instant. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“Everything’s fine.” She sat up and shook her head. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. I just wanted to speak to you about the Mother of Shapeshifters.”
After a deep breath, I ran my hand through my disheveled hair. “Really? Why?”
“You wanted to know about her, didn’t you?”
“Yes. But I thought you didn’t want to speak about it.”
Karna motioned to the bed, as though we should lie back down. I hesitated, only because my heart rate had doubled since first I had awoken, and I didn’t feel like resting.
“I bathed before I came here,” she said. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What? Uh, no, that’s fine.” I slowly returned my head to the pillow. “Please just tell me about the Mother of Shapeshifters.” Ever since I had seen it in Zelfree’s memories, I had been curious, but now that I knew it was the offspring of gods, I had to know more.
Plus, I didn’t want to think about the present. My thoughts turned dark far too quickly.
Again, Karna curled up next to me, her touch soft. She wasn’t her usual self—touching me needlessly or smiling any time I looked over. She kept her gaze low and her knees tucked close to her chest. In all regards, she appeared pensive.
“When I was younger, I ran away,” Karna said. “When it got dark, I found myself lost in the woodlands east of Thronehold. I didn’t know where I was going.”
“You ran away from what?”
“I don’t know. My life? I just wanted to get away, and I didn’t know how. So I left, and I never intended to return.”
Master Zelfree had also been in a wooded area when he had met the Mother of Shapeshifters. If the creature dwelled in a specific type of terrain, perhaps it wouldn’t be difficult to find it, so long as the hunter knew the signs. That worried me. I didn’t want Theasin to find the Mother of Shapeshifters, not after what he had done to the khepera. Clearly, he had no compunction about destroying mystical creatures if it served his means.
“A fog bank rolled in,” Karna whispered. “It became difficult to see.”
“And then you found it?”
“That’s right. The Mother of Shapeshifters emerged from the fog. I… didn’t know what to do. She was so alien, yet powerful, and I lost the ability to use my legs. It was like being trapped in a nightmare where a monster is chasing you, but you can’t run.”
I wrapped an arm around Karna, trying to comfort her, even though this experience had taken place years prior.
She continued, “She asked me what my deepest fear was. At the time, I didn’t realize it was some sort of trial of worth. I just thought… Well, I wasn’t sure. Part of me thought I had died.”
“What did you answer?”
Karna closed her eyes. “I told her I feared loneliness—of having no one and nothing.”
For a brief moment, it intrigued me that the only two acceptable answers for this trial involved drastically different fears. Then again, they resulted in bonding with completely different mystical creatures. I had never heard of a trial of worth with such nebulous terms and results, but it seemed fitting for a mystical creature unbound by the limitations of form.
“Was that really your fear?” I asked.
Karna gripped the blankets and pulled them close. “Yes. I figured no one would love me for me—not after those men in Thronehold abused me. I was tarnished after that, and… and not worthy of someone’s affection. Those kinds of fears haunted me back then. When I told that to the Mother of Shapeshifters, that was when she gave me my doppelgänger. She said I’d never be alone again, but…”
“But what?”
“But she warned me that I would never achieve my doppelgänger’s true form until I understood human nature. That was her final statement before she left me.”
True forms… They were only achieved when an arcanist embodied the magics and telos of their eldrin. A doppelgänger arcanist needed to understand human nature? That made sense—they were creatures who looked and acted just like humans, and their magics involved manipulating and controlling them.
I held Karna closer. “Why tell me this now?”
“I thought about our interactions. About how you say what you mean and how you want people to do the same for you in return. I just realized… I wouldn’t regret sharing this part of me. At least, not with you.”
The rocking of the ship, coupled by the sounds of water breaking against the hull, lulled me back into a relaxed state. My eyelids grew heavier with each silent moment.
“Can I guess your greatest fear?” Karna asked, preventing me from sleeping.
I nodded.
“Is it death?”
“I’m sure everyone is afraid of dying, in some small part,” I muttered. “But the thought of death doesn’t keep me up at night. There’s no point in fearing the inevitable.”
Karna laughed into my side, her velvety mirth a surprise. She buried her face into my shirt, smiling enough I could feel it through the fabric. “I don’t think I’ll ever get a true form doppelgänger. I couldn’t guess what you’re afraid of—how would I ever understand all of human nature?”
“I think you understand some of it,” I said. “I’ve seen the way you impersonate certain people. Theasin, Calisto—or when you were acting out the part of a desperate dancer in Thronehold—there are certain archetypes you feel comfortable with.”
“And what archetypes are those?”
“Villains.”
My answer struck a chord. Karna slowly sat up, her long hair spilling over her shoulder and covering my chest. “You honestly think so?”
“Any time you’ve tried to impersonate someone more honorable or decent, like Captain Devlin or Fain, you act as though you’re acting when you’re them, if that makes any sense. Almost like you can’t believe anyone could be so genuine without hiding something deeper and darker. It’s… hard to articulate.”
“Everyone has dark urges,” Karna said. “Why do some people pretend otherwise?”
“And the night sky might be black, but that doesn’t mean you should ignore the stars.”
“The night sky, huh? What’re you trying to say?”
I sat up and scooted closer to her, trying to impart wisdom I had never voiced before. “I liked reading tales of swashbuckling arcanists when I was younger. Their stories of bravery and kindness are like the navigational stars, a guiding presence in the blackness of night. I might never be exactly like them, but as long as I want to be, then it’s easier to overcome moments of darkness. I’m not pretending—I’m working toward a goal I haven’t reached yet. I’m following the stars.”
Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4) Page 41
