Serpent's Blood (Snakesblood Saga Book 6)

by Beth Alvarez

  “You handed her that nation by bringing its queen here.” A note of warning colored Alira’s words.

  Firal averted her eyes. A faint flicker of anger stirred in her chest, but it paled in comparison to her guilt. Running had been a mistake. Not that she’d seen another way forward.

  “Furthermore,” Alira continued, “I have worked with Envesi before. You have not. She will take her time planning her next move. Her entire life has been a sequence of carefully planned actions.”

  Firal scowled, reminded of her conversation with the former Archmage only hours before. No matter how they were related, she could never view the scheming woman as her mother. Even Firal’s existence was plotted and planned, nothing more than a means to an end.

  Someone else appeared at the door. It seemed everyone was invited. Not that Firal was likely to complain about Garam’s inclusion; she offered the old man a smile and he returned it in kind, though his eyes were pinched with weariness.

  “Alira makes a valid point,” Garam said as he clasped Rune’s shoulder with one brown hand. “Not everyone is as rash as you.”

  Rune’s expression darkened.

  “In any event,” Kytenia said, “we’re ready to go. Rhyllyn, I understand you’ll be opening a Gate for us?”

  The boy squirmed. “Not exactly.”

  “Please remember that he is still a child,” Alira said. “At his age, half of you weren’t yet in a gray mageling’s robes. Though Rhyllyn is powerful, he lacks the developed skill to manage such feats. He’s more of a...”

  “A conduit,” Rune finished. “Rhyllyn?”

  Rhyllyn grew still. Firal felt the air ripple with power as he extended his energy, like a hand seeking another to hold. No one in the room dared grasp it. The boy’s power was raw chaos, a tumult of energy that put an unnerved look on the face of every mage present.

  Every mage but one.

  From the doorway, Rune responded. He seized the offered tendril of energy and tied the two of them together. The narrow stream of magic that flowed between them grew to a raging current. Power sizzled in the air, making Firal’s hair stand on end. She shuddered, but dared not look away. The magic itself was invisible, but their reactions were not.

  Rune closed his eyes and, for a moment, looked at peace. Her heart wrenched. It was the first time since they’d been reunited that he didn’t seem miserable. But it was fleeting, and his expression returned to the scowl she knew so well the moment he opened his eyes.

  Power burned inside him now. The subtle glow that was ever present in his violet eyes flared to brilliant luminescence. He drew his hands together overhead and traced an opening with his claws. Light crackled and burned in midair as trails of magic followed his gesture. It shot across from one pillar of light to the other, spiderwebbing through the empty space, piecing together an image of the Grand College’s courtyard in Lore.

  Everyone but Alira stared in amazement. She only smiled at Rhyllyn, rather like a proud mother.

  Rune stepped back as the wavering image solidified. “Go,” he ordered.

  Rikka and Temar jumped to their feet. Kytenia rose slowly, waiting for the others to collect a cowering Anaide from behind a wing-backed chair. Asula and Kella seized the woman, one on either side, and escorted her to the Gate.

  Kytenia slid past them to embrace Firal. “We’ll contact you as soon as we are able.”

  Firal rose to meet her and swallowed hard. She squeezed her friend even as a cold knot of fear tightened around her heart. Even the college was no longer guaranteed to escape Envesi’s grasp. “Be safe.”

  The mages filed through the Gate unceremoniously. Only Kytenia looked back after she stepped through. She nodded, though she couldn’t have seen them from the other side of the Gate. Rune released the flows that held it open and relinquished his ties to Rhyllyn. The image of the college fell apart, and the fragments dissolved into glittering motes that soon dissipated into nothing.

  Rune sighed and seemed to deflate as the power left him. The light all but disappeared from his eyes and Garam offered an arm for support. He did not seem offended when Rune ignored it.

  “Your relay abilities are excellent now.” Alira said, smoothing Rhyllyn’s hair like one might pet a cat.

  “Yes,” Firal mused, giving Rune a frown. “A remarkable skill.”

  Rune’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t think you’re going to involve him in this.”

  “I can help,” Rhyllyn said.

  Rune raised a finger. “This isn’t your fight. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “But I can help you!” the boy insisted.

  “Rune—” Alira started, but cut herself short when he fired her a vicious glare.

  “I said no. He is not to be involved. Period.”

  Firal clutched her skirts. “If he can feed you power, then we already have everything we need to end this now. You came to Elenhiise acting like there was nothing we could do to help you face Envesi—”

  “Rhyllyn can’t do that,” Rune interrupted. “Are none of you capable of thinking straight anymore? For me to do anything, we have to link. Rhyllyn doesn’t yet have the control to link with me and do things on his own at the same time, which means it’s one of us or the other. Drawing through him slows me down because he’s inexperienced, and what happens if the flows are cut? She can do that now. She’d render me powerless, and he certainly can’t face her alone.”

  “But—” Firal started.

  “And what happens if she captures him too?” Rune went on. “The only reason we even stand a chance is because if your daughter was born with this kind of power, she’s a free mage without corruption.” His hands twitched with the word. He curled his claws into his fists. “The taint in Envesi’s magic will keep her from being able to use the girl as a conduit like I can with Rhyllyn. But if I can draw through Rhyllyn, so can she.”

  “Your daughter,” Garam corrected gruffly.

  Rune scoffed. “How can you call her that? I don’t even know her name!”

  “Lumia,” Firal said.

  Rune’s head snapped back around.

  Firal couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

  “What?” His voice was tight, strained.

  “Her name is Lumia.” Her hands tightened in her skirts. The tension was all that kept her from shaking. “A name given to unify a broken people as an act of goodwill. The name of a woman who played an important role in shaping your life.”

  All the anger drained from him. His shoulders sagged, his face slack with disbelief.

  “He has a daughter?” Rhyllyn asked, barely above a whisper.

  Firal raised her chin and swallowed hard. “Does that make it more real to you? Is that what you need to make you care?”

  Rune shut his eyes and exhaled. “Rhyllyn helps open Gates,” he said, as if Firal hadn’t spoken at all. “Nothing more.”

  The boy’s brow furrowed, but he bowed his head and did not speak.

  “The lot of you make me real hesitant to go back to the Royal City and leave you unattended.” Garam walked with a stiff gait, one hand pressed to his lower back. Through most of the day, he hadn’t shown his age. Now that they were settled, Firal noted the man’s discomfort. She pitied him, but there was little she could do. Healing could not repair the natural wear of an aging body. She had often tried to find ways to ease Nondar’s aches and pains, before the old Master had passed, but it made no difference.

  “I’ll look after them,” Alira said. “It’s only an evening, in any case. If all goes well, we’ll be settled in the guest quarters of the Spiral Palace for bed.”

  Garam grunted in displeasure. “We’ll see. I’m so stiff it may take me until tomorrow morning to walk to the palace.”

  “We can Gate you to the palace instead of your estate,” Rhyllyn suggested.

  The older man shook his head. “No, no. The estate is a safer choice. Are you ready?”

  Again the air around them hummed with invisible power as Rune and Rhyllyn conn
ected. Rune nodded, his brows knit with concentration as he traced another portal in the air. This time, the air split to reveal the courtyard of a tall and narrow stone building with walls to either side. A horse whinnied and snorted, Firal assumed in response to the feeling of power in the air on the other end. Animals were strange like that; most Masters agreed they could sense magic, but not all beasts were fond of it.

  Sighing in relief, Garam inched toward the Gate. “With luck, I’ll have a team of mages bring me back before nightfall. If I’m not back by tomorrow, you should probably storm the palace on your own. Be good while I’m gone.”

  “Good luck,” Rune said.

  Garam waved a hand in dismissal, then trudged through the portal and toward the house. Rune let the Gate drop and released his ties to Rhyllyn again.

  “Well,” Alira said cheerily. “Now things are right back to normal, aren’t they? Just the three of us and a woman your brother has no business dallying with.”

  Firal gasped. A fiery heat of anger and embarrassment bloomed in her face.

  “Thank you, Alira.” Rune gave her a nasty look. “That’s exactly what I need.” He turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Rhyllyn asked.

  “To change into something proper for a trip to the Royal City. Send up food when it’s done.” Rune paused in the doorway. “I suggest you bring it yourself, Rhyllyn, since I can’t guarantee anything nice will come from Alira speaking to me again.”

  Alira shrugged, indifferent. “Do you need help in the kitchen?”

  Rhyllyn swallowed and glanced nervously toward Firal. “No. I think I’m okay. Why don’t you go up to your room and rest before we travel, Alira?”

  “Very well.” The mage nodded stiffly and made for the stairs.

  Once Alira was gone, Rhyllyn offered a polite cough. “She doesn’t mean any offense to you. He just doesn’t... I mean...”

  “No,” Firal said, raising a hand. “I think I’ve heard enough to understand. How he chooses to live his life is no business of mine, anyway.” The words came with a twinge of guilt. She knew it was none of her business, but it still bothered her. Yet she had been angry when Rune refused to aid her, ignored the frustration in him that betrayed the same conflicting emotions she experienced now. Life had moved on. They should have, too.

  Rhyllyn opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. He turned back toward the hall to the kitchen. “If you want to go upstairs and rest as well...?”

  “Certainly not.” She hurried after him. “It’s been ages since I was allowed to get my hands dirty, and I have to say I’m enjoying it.”

  He grinned and led the way. “In that case, I have something you might enjoy more. How are you at kneading bread?”

  Despite her troubles, Firal laughed.

  For as long as Archmage Arrick Ortath could remember, magelings had run all the errands around the college. To open his door and find a white-robed Master waiting on the other side instead signaled nothing good.

  Worse was the news of who waited for him in a private room. He would have thought it bad enough for the Archmage of Elenhiise to call on him again so soon after they’d brought a message for the king, but that she’d already been escorted to somewhere they could speak in private meant something of great importance.

  In his experience, things of great importance were rarely good.

  He tried not to hurry, though the lump of dread in his stomach told him to run. When he arrived at the small classroom and the Masters at the door let him in, the grim expressions on the six faces that greeted him were enough to tell him he was right. Bad news awaited.

  “Thank you for meeting with us, Archmage Arrick.” Kytenia and the other five mages—more Elenhiise mages than had ever been present for one meeting—had a disheveled look about them, as if harried and hastily put back together.

  “I would say it a pleasure, Archmage Kytenia, but something tells me it’s no pleasure at all.” He closed the door and spun a ward over the room before another word could be spoken. She nodded in approval, which made the lump in his stomach grow cold.

  Kytenia motioned for him to join her at the table. The other mages took places behind their chairs. She had arranged their seats so that the two of them would be at the opposing heads of the table, as was befitting their rank, with her mages arranged down the side. They were to be spectators to the meeting, rather than included in it. Even worse.

  He strode forward and sat down.

  “I must thank you for your assistance following our previous meeting,” she began, sinking into her chair with a sigh. The other mages followed suit. “If not for your excellence in fulfilling King Vahnil’s request, I fear we would not be present to speak with you now.”

  Arrick leaned forward over the table. “I beg your pardon?”

  “No other mage would have been strong enough to Gate us out of the throne room this morning. It seems we have a powerful enemy, and I suspect she will be your enemy soon.” Kytenia laced her fingers together and rested her hands against the table’s edge. “I fear our predecessors have set us up for failure. Do you have records of the mages who were exiled from Elenhiise and taken in by the Grand College?”

  “Exiled?” He glanced between them. The sense of trouble grew. “There are records of transfer, but no mages have ever been admitted on the basis of exile.”

  Kytenia frowned at her companions.

  “Corruption runs deep,” Anaide murmured. “It always has.”

  “Would it be possible for us to look at your records?” Kytenia asked. “I don’t mean to impose. I would like you to be a part of it, of course. I simply think it would be beneficial to both of us to see what manner of information is present.”

  “Oh, certainly.” Arrick tried not to sound too eager. He knew Eyrion had been a questionable leader, but if the previous headmaster of the Grand College had hidden something as dramatic as mages in exile—and allowed them free access to the college and its resources—Arrick wanted to know. He had little reason to mistrust the mages from Elenhiise. Besides, considering how many thousands of mages inhabited the island, keeping on their good side was important.

  The Grand College had fewer and fewer students to admit every year. He suspected that, in time, the college would be swallowed by Kirban Temple. It was knowledge that made him sad, but he accepted it. As Archmage, it was important he consider the future, and part of being a good Archmage was sacrificing his own desires or interests for the better of the people in his charge. Sometimes he wondered if the future held mages at all.

  “Thank you.” Kytenia rubbed her brow and straightened. “There is time for that later, though. This cannot wait. For now, I’ll speak as if your college is unfamiliar with the woman responsible for our trouble. As you know, the queen’s daughter was kidnapped some days ago.”

  “Efforts to retrieve the girl are still in progress?” Arrick asked.

  Kytenia nodded. “None of our attempts have been successful. We know our temple’s first Archmage is responsible, but that’s where the trouble begins. Were she just any mage, we would have rescued the child and likely put the woman to death.”

  He paled. “You would execute a mage? But the Gift is so rare now, I...” He trailed off and swallowed hard.

  “At this point, I feel we have no choice. It’s not a decision I make lightly, Arrick.” Kytenia grew more solemn, more regal. “She was exiled for treason, on top of crimes against nature. Archmage Eyrion Tolmarni accepted her and two of her colleagues found guilty of treason against the crown of Elenhiise. He offered to rehabilitate them.”

  Arrick’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure of this?”

  “I was in the courtyard when the Masters of Kirban opened the Gate through which they were exiled,” Kytenia replied.

  “Of course, of course. I do not doubt you, I merely wish to be sure of the details.” He found himself worrying his hands. Instead of trying to still them, he moved them beneath the table. “So one was your previous Arc
hmage. Who were the others?”

  “A Master named Melora, and one named Alira.”

  The second name gave him pause. Surely it was a coincidence.

  Kytenia went on. “Alira has since redeemed herself and found a home and title in the Triad. She has proven a great asset to us since our arrival this morning. Melora, as I understand it, is dead. But they are not important. The fact of the matter is that Envesi, our former Archmage, has taken King Vahnil prisoner. Just yesterday, she laid siege to the temple and took control of it. She leads an army of mages, though where they came from, I’m not sure. Today, she attacked our queen in the throne room in an attempt to seize power. We escaped with our queen, but in doing so, forfeited the island.”

  Arrick’s stomach lurched. He knew it. News from a Master was nothing good at all. “Where is your queen?”

  “Safe, for the moment. She is in the company of Rune Kaim-Ennen, who rescued us this morning.”

  Glancing at the mages seated alongside the table, Arrick made himself breathe deep and exhale slowly. “It seems no matter what we do, mages keep becoming involved in wars.”

  “That’s the nature of power, it seems.” Kytenia smiled with sorrow in her eyes. “Unfortunately, the problem doesn’t stop there. There were a number of mages present when Envesi arrived at the palace. Under normal circumstances, we could have stopped her. But circumstances are anything but normal. I’m sure at this point, you are aware of Rune’s physical condition?”

  “As well as his brother’s.” Arrick frowned and rubbed his chin. “It’s been a topic of research for the college for a long time, but we’ve made no headway in unraveling the corruption in his Gift. Never mind the seal the Aldaanan mages placed on it.”

  “Envesi is the one responsible for creating that corruption.” She shook her head, troubled. “In exchange for the taint, they have power that, as I am learning, rivals the Aldaanan mages. It seems the corruption has spread to her.”

  Arrick swore.

  “We had hoped having Rune with us would mitigate the imbalance in power, but...” She shrugged.

  “The seal on his power eliminated that option.” Arrick wiped his face with both hands and let his shoulders slump.