Karna let out a velvety chuckle. “You’re cute when you’re not playing the part of a disturbed stranger.”
“I would’ve said someone like Atty,” Adelgis continued, still preoccupied with his own thoughts. “But I didn’t want to irritate Volke, so I went with the next best example, and my sister has been on my mind a lot lately, so that’s why—”
Fain placed a hand on Adelgis’s shoulder, cutting him off mid-thought. “We understand, Moonbeam.”
“It was comforting to know when someone was speaking the truth.” Adelgis smoothed his clothing. “Especially in these instances.”
Although they continued talking, my mind wandered.
Atty…
If she were here, she’d be the quiet strength of the group, keeping calm, even when everyone else wasn’t. I envisioned her walking alongside us, her gait smooth and regal, her conversation uplifting and pleasant.
Zaxis, on the other hand, probably would’ve rushed ahead, no plan in mind. He was always more impulsive than I was. Filled with bluster. His shouting would’ve carried through the woods; I could practically hear it. Despite that, I knew he would be handy in a fight. Some people hesitated, but not Zaxis.
If only they were here. I’d feel more confident about the situation.
Karna turned to me, no doubt intending to drag me back into the conversation, but before anything happened, the clop of hooves and the rattle of a cart echoed throughout the woods. I held my breath and moved off to the side of the road, curious to see who was heading our way.
To my surprise, a group of men and women, four in total, walked alongside a horse as they guided it down the road, toward the broken city. The cart carried wooden crates, each nailed shut and ready for sea travel. The individuals weren’t arcanists, since they had no marks on their foreheads, and when they noticed us, they looked away and said nothing. They continued with the delivery, their shoulders slumped.
Fain watched until they had gone past us. Then he turned to me. “What’s going on?”
I frowned and shook my head. “I don’t know. Those people didn’t seem surprised or concerned to see us.”
“They didn’t seem very friendly, either,” Karna added. “It’s a shame we don’t have someone who can read minds anymore.”
“I do still have functioning eyes,” Adelgis muttered. He pointed to the trees. “Someone is approaching.”
A creature flashed into view between the white trunks. It had the shape of a horse, but it seemed more delicate and agile. It moved with the fluidity of water and at the speed of a powerful wind. The horse’s coat shimmered with each movement, similar to scales, but the silver coloration gave it a mystical appearance.
The silver horse reached the road in a matter of seconds. It was then that I realized what it truly was.
A kirin.
It had all the markings from legend. Its “coat” was actually silver dragon-like scales. The kirin’s cloven hooves—standard for a deer, and not a horse—had all the toughness and hard edge of real silver. Its tail resembled a lion’s, and there was a horn on its forehead, much like a unicorn. A kirin’s horn, however, grew in twisted and jagged. This kirin’s horn glittered with an inner power and was semi-transparent crystal.
Everything about the kirin seemed magical. Even its eyes were tiny night skies—black and speckled with stars.
I fumbled with my words, unable to think of a greeting. Kirin were rare and precious, perhaps even more so than knightmares, and there were fewer than twelve of those left. I never thought I’d see one.
I didn’t realize the kirin had a rider until a lady slid off its back.
The young woman had short, strawberry blonde hair, and she wore oversized clothing of white and silver, enough to cover her neck and the entirety of her arms. Her pants were tied snugly at her waist, but then they puffed out as they covered her legs all the way to the ground.
The most distracting piece of her outfit was the headband that covered her forehead. It reminded me of the Marshall of the Southern Seas. Why would this woman hide her mark? I was starting to distrust anyone who did such a thing.
Her emerald eyes had a vacant quality, even as she looked over us one at a time.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her words slow and quiet. “This isn’t right.”
Adelgis stepped forward before I could respond. “I’m Adelgis Venrover, Theasin’s son. I’ve come to see him.”
The woman reached out and touched his jaw. Adelgis didn’t flinch or move away. Her slender fingers traced the side of his face.
“You are Theasin’s son,” she said with a slight smile. “How curious that you’ve traveled all this way to see him. Theasin doesn’t care for surprises.”
For a prolonged—and awkward—length of time, the woman kept her hand on Adelgis’s face. I assumed they were speaking telepathically or perhaps communicating in some other way. With a gentle motion, she grazed his ear and then the corner of his jaw. How long were we supposed to remain quiet and waiting?
“Your skin is so soft,” the woman muttered. “Like… feathers.”
Fain leaned in close to me. “By the abyssal hells—we’ve found Moonbeam number two.”
“My name is Orwyn,” the woman said, answering Fain. “And this is my first eldrin.” She removed her hand from Adelgis and then placed it on the neck of the beautiful silver kirin. “You may call her Lith.”
First eldrin? She didn’t elaborate, and I almost asked what she meant, but I decided against it. The kirin regarded us with her twilight-eyes and then pointed to the road with her crystal horn.
“Lith wants us to hurry along,” Orwyn said, her tone airy and distant. “We mustn’t keep Theasin waiting. He won’t be here much longer.”
“Wait,” I said.
Orwyn stopped before climbing onto her kirin. She had no saddle, but that didn’t seem to bother her. With unhurried and careful movements, she turned to face me. Her half-vacant gaze was difficult not to dwell on.
“Where are we?” I asked. “What is this place?”
“Don’t be silly, you know where you are,” Orwyn cryptically replied. “This is the Excavation Site, the heart of our operations. We’re in control here.” And then, with no further explanation, she climbed onto Lith’s back and gestured for us to follow.
We continued on the straight road, and Orwyn went ahead, her kirin much faster than any of us. I could’ve shadow-stepped to keep her pace, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to take my eyes off our surroundings, not even for a second. Although Orwyn and Lith seemed pleasant, I didn’t trust them. My gut told me we were in danger, but nothing negative was actively happening to us.
We had to continue.
It didn’t take us long to pass through the woods. The rest of the group grew equally as tense once we came upon the fires creating the black smoke.
Despite the drizzle, massive flames licked into the sky, spewing inky smoke with each flicker and wave. There were four bonfires, each with trees and dead creatures inside. The smell of burnt flesh filled the area, but another scent, similar to charcoal, lingered as well.
The trees in the surrounding area, perhaps half a mile in all directions, had been cut, the dirt had been leveled, and the grass burned away. Ash and scorch marks covered everything. I couldn’t breathe deep without hurting my lungs.
Hundreds of people—hundreds—hustled around the man-made clearing. They carried tools, hauled away fresh dirt, or operated pulley systems with chains and cranks. A massive hole had been carved into the ground, the type of rectangular ditch used to craft graves—if the grave was for a mountain-sized person. The pulleys helped the workers clear the dirt from this giant hole, and they took it out by the wagonload.
No one acknowledged our arrival. Everyone was too busy, and too rushed, to do anything other than their work.
I slowed my steps as I approached the workers. A few dozen of them used a long pulley to extract bones from the hole. They weren’t human bones. Nor were
they horse bones. Or elephant bones. Or whale bones.
Those were all too small.
These were dragon bones. Gigantic dragon bones. The type of bones that could be hollowed out and lived inside.
And they weren’t white.
No.
These were black bones—just like the bone fragments I had found in Theasin’s lab—ebony and filled with powerful magic. The same bones that made up Retribution.
An excavation worker bumped into me. He spilled dirt across my boots, his hands shaking. I mumbled an apology and moved away, my gaze lingering on the bones. The man hurried to clean his mess.
Orwyn and Lith trotted in front of me. Orwyn pointed to a collection of buildings on the edge of the burned clearing. “This isn’t for you. Speak with Theasin.”
I managed to tear my eyes off the excavation and turn toward the buildings. Adelgis, Fain, and Karna joined me, but to my curiosity, I didn’t spot Karr the doppelgänger anywhere. Had he transformed himself to look like a worker? Or had he disappeared into the woods?
The buildings were nothing more than hastily constructed warehouse-style structures, each made from the color-drained trees of the surrounding area. They were long, rectangular, and tall, but they didn’t look comfortable or inviting. Orwyn pointed to a specific building, one with double doors made of white wood and iron. They were shut tight, but two workers leapt up from their tasks in order to open them for us.
Orwyn and Lith stopped twenty feet away from the entrance. Orwyn watched until we entered, her gaze haunting till the last moment.
Once inside, I realized we had entered a field lab.
Tables and containers filled the large space, and fragments of black bone covered most surfaces. Even indoors, non-arcanist workers ran to and fro, all seemingly in such a hurry that they didn’t have time to acknowledge our presence. They carried bone fragments to meat-grinder-style tools and crushed them into a fine dust. The sound of crunching and gears turning echoed inside the building.
Thankfully, the walls kept most of the smoke outside. Now all I could smell was copper and sweat.
I shook my coat to clear it of water, grateful to be out of the rain.
“Father,” Adelgis said, drawing the attention of everyone inside, including the busy workers.
Theasin Venrover stood at the far end of the lab, his tall stature and cold expression unique to him. His eyes filled with instant recognition, and I swear his emotions went through an entire spectrum before he finally settled on disapproving. He shoved two workers aside as he stormed between the many tables, his attention locked on Adelgis.
When Theasin reached his son’s side, he grabbed Adelgis by the upper arm and held him close. “What’re you doing here?” he demanded, his voice controlled, even if his mannerisms weren’t.
Fain stepped forward as though he intended to give Theasin a piece of his mind, but I placed a hand on Fain’s shoulder and held him back. I knew Adelgis enough to understand that he wanted to be the one to deal with his father. Everything we had to say—from the plague cure, to the crimes against the khepera—Adelgis needed the chance to address them first.
“You said you were working on a cure for the arcane plague,” Adelgis replied. “We’ve come to see if you’ve created it—and if you haven’t, we’ve come to help.”
Theasin stared at his son, his eyebrows knitting together in slow confusion. It was obvious Theasin hadn’t expected that as an answer. He ran a gloved hand over his clean-shaven face, but he wasn’t as tidy as I remembered him from Thronehold. His black trousers and robes carried dirt smudges, and there were dark rings under his eyes.
Then Theasin hardened himself, hiding away any hint at emotion. He released Adelgis, turned on the heel of his shoe, and then snapped his fingers. The workers of the lab stopped their actions and gave Theasin their full attention.
“Everyone out,” he commanded. “Assist the dockhands in filling crates and then return here at nightfall to finish your tasks.”
No one needed to be told twice. They hurried for the door, falling into a neat and orderly line as they moved past Theasin.
The moment the last worker disappeared through the double door, silence descended.
In the far back corner of the room, behind crates and tables, was a large pile of rubbish made up of glass, metal, nails, and broken magical items. If I hadn’t seen that trash heap before, I never would’ve known it was Theasin’s eldrin—a relickeeper. As a pile of trash, the relickeeper blended with its surroundings, but it could form into a dragon-like monster within a matter of seconds.
The blood relation between Theasin and Adelgis was undeniable, though there were definite differences. Theasin was just more… athletic and imposing. He kept his hair short, and although his clothing had been sullied by the excavation efforts, he kept everything smooth and in place.
“How did you get here?” Theasin asked, the ice in his words cutting.
He wasn’t speaking to anyone else but Adelgis. Even so, both Karna and Fain shifted their weight, each of them ready to say something. I shook my head and gestured for them to stay out of it. Adelgis was handling the matter.
“I arrived aboard the Third Abyss,” Adelgis said. “I chartered a ride with them once I figured out where you had gone.”
“Who told you my location?”
“I pieced together your whereabouts from your personal letters. You spoke of specific locations, and I narrowed down the possibilities until this was the only logical explanation.”
Although I figured all of this would upset Theasin, the information seemed to calm him. He smoothed his dark robe and then tugged at the edges of his gloves. “I see.”
“Father,” Adelgis said, his voice somewhat desperate. “Please tell me you have a cure for the arcane plague.”
Theasin smirked. “Of course I do.”
43
The Cure To The Arcane Plague
I exhaled, relief flooding my system and easing my anxiety. Thank all the good stars in the sky. I almost couldn’t believe it. Theasin Venrover had a cure for the plague, and now this terrible chapter of my life could come to an end.
Adelgis rubbed at his shoulder, his posture shifting from tense to fidgety. After a shaky breath, he asked, “Can you help Volke? He was infected with the plague some time ago. He needs treatment.”
“Who?” Theasin snapped.
With a quick gesture of his hand, Adelgis identified me from the others. “You met Volke before. He was with me when I delivered you the abyssal leech.”
Theasin stared at me with dark, unfeeling eyes. Then he returned his intense focus to his son. “Who is he? Your lover? Why would you go so far out of your way to bring him here?”
“After you extracted the leech, I began dying,” Adelgis said matter-of-factly. “Volke searched tirelessly for a remedy. He saved me. It’s important that I return the favor.”
It was Theasin’s fault that Adelgis had nearly died, but that new bit of information didn’t seem to faze the man. If anything, Theasin returned to his disapproving tone and expression. “So, this was merely a fetch quest for your friend. I should’ve known it was mundane aspirations that brought you here, but this seems like extreme effort for a single arcanist. Tell me—who else knows you’re here? Everett Zelfree? The rest of the Frith Guild?”
“No one,” Adelgis said. “I separated from the Frith Guild when Volke was infected. We traveled here without their aid.”
“I see.”
Theasin turned away, his robe fluttering outward in his haste. He strode off, his gait stiff, until he reached a far back table covered in small glass vials. The glass tinked together as he rummaged through them, but he said nothing as he did so. Was Theasin gathering up the cure? Collecting his materials before we left? Why wouldn’t he just tell us?
“Interesting,” Karna said to Adelgis. “I don’t think my impersonation of your father was accurate. I’m not capable of being that callous.”
Adelgis didn’t reply.
When Theasin returned, he held a single vial tightly in his gloved hand. “For a moment, you almost impressed me,” he said. “I thought you had discovered the importance of my work and wanted to assist. I would’ve had a proud moment as a father if my son had gone through the effort of sleuthing through my personal materials to deduce my location, all to dedicate himself to my cause. But instead,”—Theasin regarded me with a glower—“you’ve wasted your considerable talents on an errand for some acquaintance. It’s beyond disappointing.”
I had heard Theasin’s longwinded pontifications before, so his statements didn’t come as a shock. Fain and Karna, on the other hand, couldn’t hide their visible seething.
Adelgis clenched his jaw and straightened his posture. In a move that mirrored his father, he hardened himself in icy condescension. “I’m sorry to upset you, but what I read of your work disgusts me. I had hoped it was untrue—or that I had made incorrect conclusions about what you were doing, but after seeing this place, I know I’m right.”
Theasin held the vial close, his eyes narrowing. “Oh? And what do you know?”
“I know what you’re digging up,” Adelgis stated. “I didn’t want to believe it, but there it is. The corpse of the apoch dragon—the god-creature who killed the rest. You found it, and now you’re using its bones for your item creation.”
“Wait, what?” I asked aloud, too shocked to form a more coherent response. I bit back all other words, my thoughts buzzing. Retribution had been crafted from the bones of the apoch dragon?
Theasin didn’t glance in my direction. His focus remained solely on his son, his expression unchanged after the revelation. “And my efforts disturb you?”
“The apoch dragon’s sole purpose for existing was to eliminate other powerful magical beings. It was a monster of destruction. The only things you could make with its bones are weapons.” Adelgis took in a ragged breath, like he didn’t want to continue with his accusations—but he had come too far now. “There was a ruinous substance used during the assassination in Thronehold. Our enemies called it decay dust, and part of it was made of nullstone… but the other part was this bone powder, wasn’t it? That was how our enemies destroyed the trinkets of the guards and their queen. With the remains of the apoch dragon.”
Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4) Page 43
