Plague Arcanist (Frith Chronicles Book 4)

by Shami Stovall

  “Once you’ve bonded, return to me,” the Autarch said. “Your status as a god-arcanist shouldn’t be revealed until I have the world serpent. We must have the backing of nations if we want to have total control over the situation.”

  “Of course.”

  Theasin tucked the pink quartz runestone into his robes.

  The hooded woman handed over a letter. I suspected it had the location of Kreel’s ship.

  “You should go now, Artificer Venrover,” Rhys said. “The Frith Guild has technically been strengthening its numbers by recruiting arcanists across the Argo Empire. If they discover the soul forge has spawned, they’ll attempt to hinder our plans with it, too.”

  “I’ll leave immediately on the Third Abyss,” Theasin said. “But before I go, can you move the Mother of Shapeshifters to our storeroom? It needs to go out with the next shipment of bones. I can’t afford to lose it.”

  Rhys nodded. “It shall be done.”

  What did Theasin have planned? He had said he would take the Mother of Shapeshifters apart, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. He had a plan for it. And whatever that was, it would end in tragedy.

  With a quick turn on his heel, Theasin faced Calisto. “Come. We must meet Kreel.” Then he shifted his attention to me. “Oh, and one last thing. No one is to disturb that,”—Theasin pointed to me—“I’ll deal with him when I return.”

  Again, Rhys nodded.

  Calisto and Spider exchanged heated looks, but neither said anything as they walked away from my table and joined the other arcanists in the center of the room. They strode out with Theasin in tow.

  No one fought Theasin for the runestone. No one argued for the privilege of being chosen to be the soul forge.

  Whatever the Autarch decided was law, and he would determine who bonded with what.

  Still fitted in his eldritch suit of bone armor, the Autarch motioned to Rhys. “We should continue on our way.” Then he faced the cerberus arcanist. “You will answer to Tamoi. He’s clearing the forest and will finish excavating the bones of the apoch dragon. It’s halfway done now—all you need to do is aid him. The moment it’s done, complete our shipments and meet back with Rhys.”

  “As you wish,” the man said.

  I couldn’t see the arcanist as well, but his three-headed dog barked in chorus, pink saliva running down all its mouths.

  With the orders given, the room filled with pops and sparkles. Most of the arcanists vanished through rizzel teleportation—all except for the Autarch, his gold kirin, the cerberus arcanist, and Rhys. The three-headed dog lumbered out of the room along with his arcanist, their mission to guard this location. I suspected the Autarch’s new armor couldn’t be teleported, which prevented him from going with the others.

  Rhys walked over to the Mother of Shapeshifters wrapped in white linen. He placed his hand on the side of the beast—another bloom of blood appeared under his palm—and he made the creature vanish with a forceful burst of his teleportation, nullstone chains and all. Rhys gulped down air afterward, his whole body shaking. Then he glanced over, his far-set eyes examining me for a quick moment before he returned to the Autarch.

  “We should join the others,” Rhys said as he walked with the Autarch and the gold kirin toward the door. “And you should see the new territory boundaries that have been proposed. Once you’re the world serpent arcanist, you can shape the way trading is done for the whole region.”

  They exited the room together, the Autarch’s new armor clinking as he walked.

  The instant the door shut, a stillness settled over the room. I was alone, and soon the lamps would run out of oil, leaving me in the dark, forgotten until Theasin made his way back to this location.

  I understood then why Adelgis had trapped me in the dreams. It had been a mercy. At least with the memories, I had something to preoccupy my thoughts. Instead, now I would drown in the knowledge that everyone I loved was in danger—and I could do nothing about it.

  The lamps hadn’t yet gone out, but I suspected they only had an hour left. How would I tell time once they were gone?

  Why couldn’t I break free of this magic?

  Was it because Theasin’s eldrin was stronger than mine? Or was it because he had better mastery of his sorcery?

  Although Theasin hadn’t yet cured me, I desperately wanted to escape, but nothing I did managed to change my circumstances.

  The only things I had control over were my eyelids. I blinked several times, frustrated to the point that my whole body ached with a dull pain.

  A door opened and closed.

  Someone hurried from the far side of the room to my nook in the back. I had never seen this man before—he dressed in plain clothing, a simple white shirt and dirty trousers. When he neared, he smiled, his teeth not dark, but not white, either. And his facial features—plain in all regards. Mud-brown hair and eyes. Unremarkable, yet somehow familiar.

  “I found you,” the man said. “It’s me, Karr. You remember? Karna’s doppelgänger.” He exhaled in relief. “I’ve come to get you out of here. The others are being held in some sort of makeshift barracks. You need to help me get them.”

  47

  The Final Decision

  Karr placed his hand on my bare chest, and magic gripped at my spine, sending a shiver through my body. Although a doppelgänger’s ability to manipulate people had disturbed me in the past, now I was forever grateful. Karr’s magic seemed to dispel the relickeeper’s hold.

  With the finesse of a puppet master, Karr forced me to sit up, kick my legs off the side of the table, and then stand. After I balanced myself, the claws of magic on my spine loosened, and I regained control.

  “Thank you,” I said with a shaky voice, weak from days of sleeping and dreaming.

  “Take this.” Karr withdrew an extra shirt he had tucked into the belt of his pants.

  With unsteady movements, I threw the shirt over my head and allowed it to fall into place. I still had no boots or belt of my own, but at least I didn’t look conspicuous.

  Karr motioned to the far door. “We should hurry. There are enemy arcanists everywhere.”

  I nodded and followed him through the room, stepping around the crafting tables covered in star shards. My legs threatened to buckle, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to walk, no matter what. Phantom pin-pricks spread throughout my limbs, like everything had been asleep until I had stood up.

  Karr opened the door and ushered me through. We exited out into the Excavation Site, the smell of dirt, ash, and blood thick in the air. I half-gagged and shook my head. Nothing felt right.

  “Where are the others?” I asked.

  “This way.” Karr hooked his hand on my elbow and guided me away from the strange building.

  “How did you escape?”

  “They never caught me.” Karr flashed a smile. “I’m a master at blending into a crowd.”

  The hundreds of site workers didn’t bother looking our way. They remained focused on their duties, each hustling to get their assignments completed. The gigantic bones needed to be unearthed, secured to the pulleys, and then lifted out of the ground with care. No doubt they were on a strict timeline, and my gut told me there would likely be punishments for those who didn’t follow through with the schedule.

  The rain had stopped, but the sky remained dreary and overcast, blocking out the moon and stars. The bonfires raged in the distance, raining bits of ash down around us, like a sickening type of snow.

  Karr pointed across the work site. “There. Do you see him? That’s Master Arcanist Tamoi. The workers here say he’s the Autarch’s personal enforcer and the one in charge of the dig site.”

  I glanced over, but at first, I didn’t see an arcanist—all I saw was his gargantuan eldrin, an atlas turtle. Not like Eventide’s—hers dwelled in the water. This was an atlas tortoise, a creature that lived on land. It had to weigh 100 tons and was half the size of a blue whale, its shell large enough to carry a house. Its legs were boulder-thick, its
claws sharp enough to rend steel, and the edges of the shell were jagged and sharp enough to resemble broken glass.

  To my fascination, things grew on the shell, just like with Eventide’s atlas turtle. This atlas tortoise, however, had tombstones jutting out of the dirt on its back, along with a variety of strange plants. Some were thorn-covered vines that moved like the tentacles of an octopus. Others resembled flytraps, complete with fangs and bright red “mouths.”

  The atlas tortoise’s eyes bulged out of its sockets, jiggling slightly as it lumbered around the work site. They were glazed over and devoid of color, like a dead fish.

  Its arcanist, Tamoi, the Autarch’s enforcer, traveled beside it, holding a flintlock rifle in his hands as he observed the workers. His brimmed hat kept the falling ash out of his beady eyes.

  “And look there,” Karr said, pointing to another.

  It was the plague-ridden cerberus and his arcanist. The three-headed dog, standing as tall as a draft horse, barked at workers who slowed or dropped anything, and the man laughed whenever someone cowered away. His arcanist mark glowed bright red, enough to spot it from anywhere in the clearing around the bone pit.

  “There are three others,” Karr whispered as he guided me along the edge of the massive clearing. We walked by warehouse after warehouse, each with the sound of grinding inside. “Two unicorns and one pegasus arcanist. They’re patrolling the area, making sure no one leaves with anything they shouldn’t.”

  I rubbed my face as my strength returned at a snail’s pace. Now wasn’t the time for weakness, not when we were surrounded by the vilest of enemies.

  Karr stopped at the edge of a smaller building. “Karna and the others are inside.” He glanced around. “I don’t believe anyone else is in there. It’s a place for arcanists.” Karr pointed to a much larger building across the muddy road. “That’s where the workers go.”

  “Thank you,” I said again, this time with confidence.

  “I’ll stand watch and let you know if anyone comes this way.”

  I stepped into the shadows, slid through the darkness under the door, and entered the arcanist barracks. When I emerged, my head spun for a moment, and I needed to take a deep breath. There wasn’t much to my surroundings—some tugboats had more furnishings—but there were six cots, a simple table, and a lamp.

  My breath caught when I realized Karna, Fain, Wraith, and Luthair were lying on the cots. It took a moment to process the image of Luthair “sleeping.” Knightmares didn’t need to rest like that. He had to be under the power of the relickeeper—stuck in a stasis-like state, like I had been. The others, including the wendigo, had their eyes shut, which meant they were probably locked in a dream world of Adelgis’s design.

  Sitting one cot over, stiff and straight, was Adelgis. He turned when he noticed me enter, his eyes widening.

  “Volke,” he said as he stood.

  In one swift motion, I manipulated the shadows in the corner of the room to snuff out the lamplight. Adelgis flinched, and that was when I used the darkness as a net, snaring him and slamming him to the floor. The tendrils of shadows held him down, keeping him from getting back to his feet.

  A bright burst of light heralded the arrival of Felicity, his ethereal whelk. Shards of iridescent shell linked together to form her body. Her snail form and tentacles shone with an inner light, illuminating the room.

  “Let my arcanist go,” she said, flashing bright.

  The rays of her magic burned my shadows, but I refused to give in. I held up my hand and evoked terrors, forcing fears onto both Felicity and Adelgis. She cried out and floated to the floor, her inner light dimming.

  Adelgis… didn’t seem to have much of a reaction to my terrors. He closed his eyes and stopped struggling.

  Anger fueling my magic, I covered Felicity in shadows and held her down. Even if she burst light from her body again, it wouldn’t be enough to free herself.

  I walked to Adelgis’s side, confident he wouldn’t put me to sleep a second time.

  He opened his eyes, but they didn’t focus on anything. He couldn’t see in the dark.

  “Volke,” he whispered.

  I loomed over him, still uncertain of what I should do. “Where are my things?”

  “Try to calm down.”

  “I intend to leave this place, and I need my weapons to do that. Tell me where they are.”

  Adelgis turned his head slightly to the side—the only part of him that wasn’t actively tied with my shadows. “They’re under my cot. But please reconsider. You’re obviously not well.”

  I used the shadows to grope around under the cot. The tendrils dragged out my sword, gun, boots, and blue phoenix feather—the first trinket I had made with my father. Seeing it eased some of my rage. I knelt down and collected my things, thankful to have Retribution and Equalizer. I suspected I would need to make use of them.

  “You’re the one who isn’t well,” I said to Adelgis as I laced my boots. “You put me to sleep and then handed me to the Second Ascension. What were you thinking?” I shook my head and stood. “Unbelievable.”

  Adelgis frowned. “I want to help you, and I fear you’re too far gone to see what’s happening. That’s why I put you to sleep.”

  “What aren’t I seeing?” I asked, sardonic. “I just summed up the situation pretty concisely.”

  “The Volke I know never would’ve attacked me.”

  His statement further chilled my anger. I hadn’t thought of the situation like that, but at the same time, Adelgis had never betrayed me so thoroughly, either. How would I have reacted a year ago? Would I have harmed him?

  “I don’t think you would’ve,” Adelgis said, answering my unspoken question.

  “You can hear thoughts again?” I snapped.

  Adelgis nodded. “The arcanist who warded away the plague-ridden creatures left this area. It was a master ethereal whelk arcanist—the same one who shielded Calisto’s and my father’s thoughts. They seem to be a powerful member of the Second Ascension.”

  “I see.” After a long inhale and exhale, I said, “I’m sorry I attacked you, but you have no right to force anything on me.”

  “Even if it was to help you?” Adelgis asked, a genuine tone to his voice that made it difficult to hate him. “Even if I thought your judgments were impaired?”

  “There are some things more important than my safety,” I said. “We can’t allow the Second Ascension to control us just because they have something we want.”

  “My father wasn’t trying to control our actions. He simply asked that we do nothing. Isn’t that an acceptable price to pay for your life? If you die—or if you’re driven mad—you’ll never be able to stop the Second Ascension. But if you wait now, you can fight later. There’s nothing wrong with taking the time to heal.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it a moment later, the words stuck in my throat. There wasn’t anything wrong with taking the time to heal, true, but this wasn’t the same. At least… I didn’t think so. Doubt crept into my thoughts, adding to my hesitation.

  “Please, Volke,” Adelgis said. “You have the option to lie back and allow yourself to be saved. There’s no need to fight this. We can return to the Frith Guild once you’re better.”

  He was right.

  If I did nothing—if I went back to the other building and slept on that table until Theasin returned—I would be cured of the arcane plague. But I knew things now… Things the Frith Guild needed to know, like the Mother of Shapeshifters and the appearance of the soul forge.

  If I did nothing, I’d tacitly be helping the Second Ascension.

  “Then please reconsider using the khepera,” Adelgis said, desperation creeping into his speech. “We have time. You can return to the Sun Chaser and use their healing sands to help you. That’s still an option.”

  “Why’re you so determined to see me cured?” I asked. His fervor bordered on the obsessive, and it worried me.

  “I don’t want to fail you,” Adelgis
stated. “My father said I’d fail at most things in my life, and while he’s been correct on some issues… I just don’t want this time to be correct. You’ve done a lot for me, and now I’ve found two viable ways to save you—please pick one. Everyone will understand. No one will think you’re a coward or that you took the easy way out. Look at how much you’ve given up to get here. Just take one of the solutions!”

  Kill the khepera or allow the Second Ascension’s plans to continue without opposition.

  Those were my options.

  How could I justify picking either?

  “Think of what you’re doing to your sister, Illia,” Adelgis said.

  I glared down at him. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.”

  “You know there isn’t enough time to find another solution. If you don’t take one now, what will I tell Illia? You chose not to be saved? Can’t you imagine how that’ll upset her?”

  Dammit! He was just trying to pick at me any way he could, and somehow, he had touched upon one spot that I didn’t want to consider.

  I ran both my hands through my hair and glanced over at the others sleeping on their cots. Adelgis’s magic kept them quiet and tranquil. If I went back to Theasin’s table, no one would ever know I had been up except Adelgis, Felicity, and Karr.

  I shook my head.

  How could I return to Illia and tell her that I selfishly chose myself? How could I tell her I killed the khepera? Or that I didn’t try to warn the Frith Guild when I had the chance? All for my own personal gains?

  I knew—in my core—that Illia wouldn’t hold those choices against me. She’d say something comforting and tell me anyone would’ve done what I did.

  But…

  I hadn’t spent my childhood on the Isle of Ruma reading tales of average people overcoming their own personal dilemmas. I had read stories of great heroes who had dedicated themselves to honor and justice—men and women who had braved active volcanos, drank poison, and rode into the arms of death—all because they had believed they could make a difference in the world.