Unseen (First of the Blade Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “We better ourselves by proving ourselves.”

  “I don’t believe that to be true.”

  He strode away, and Imogen had no answer for that. She didn’t care what he chose to believe. She had come to better herself, and she also wanted to prove herself. That was the entire reason for her coming here, wasn’t it?

  She chose to ignore Jorend’s words. She wasn’t going to let some lesser swordsman make her question who she was or why she was here. And he was lesser. Imogen was several years younger than him, which meant she had fewer years of training, yet she still defeated him easily. She may not have studied the sacred patterns as long as he had, but if he believed he could master them by reflecting and sitting on his backside rather than training, then she had little sympathy for him.

  Imogen started down the hall, then paused in front of a sculpture. She could feel something about one of the stone tigers, almost as if there was something she was meant to know, some energy she was supposed to find.

  The ground trembled.

  It sounded like thunder, but thunder she could feel deep within herself, like it was rattling her chest, consuming her. The energy poured out through her, more significant than what she had felt during any of the storms she had experienced.

  Imogen hurried through the hallway until she reached the entrance to the temple. Shadows moved in the darkness, but she wasn’t sure what they were at first.

  Soldiers.

  Marching past the temple.

  She glanced behind her and spotted General Derashen again, then turned her attention back to the soldiers filing along the road—the source of the thundering she heard.

  The temple was situated on top of a mountain, high above the rest of the Leier homeland, isolated much like most of the other sacred temples. This location gave them an opportunity to look down upon the world and focus on their training.

  As Imogen stared into the darkness, watching the soldiers move past, she couldn’t help but feel as if her skills might be better used in another way. Perhaps she could join her people as they marched, but she wasn’t sure they would welcome her. Not yet. Not until she completed her training.

  She tore her gaze away and headed back to her quarters. It was time for her ritual of contemplating the sacred patterns.

  Though if she continued to disappoint Master Liu with her sloppiness and inability to progress, would there be any point in doing so?

  Chapter Eleven

  As Imogen came awake, she looked around the small dugout Benji had created, thankful for the confines of the space and the protections it offered. Benji sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, as if he were asleep while sitting upright.

  She scooted back, pressed herself against the wall, and waited. The warm air was still and comfortable, and she breathed in the heavy earthen odor as her mind continued to turn.

  She’d been dreaming about her time in the sacred temple. Was that because of her own feelings of inadequacy and how she had treated Master Liu when she’d been there? Or was it tied to something else?

  Imogen understood the source of her insecurities. She had quickly come to realize that she was not skilled enough. She was not fast enough. She was not precise enough.

  At least, she had not felt that way.

  Master Liu had made her feel small. It was almost as if he had wanted to break her down, trying to convince her that she was not the skilled fighter she thought herself to be.

  Imogen closed her eyes in meditation. Patterns flickered through her mind. First came the traditional ones. She started at number one and worked her way through them until she reached the triple digits. Then she transitioned to the sacred patterns, imagining each one. There were aspects of meditation that allowed her to concentrate in ways that moving through the patterns outside of meditation could not.

  When she finished working through the sacred patterns, she continued to stay in place. She had been thinking of her time in the sacred temple far more these days than she ever had since leaving. Perhaps it was tied to how she had been using those patterns more lately, or perhaps there was another reason.

  She had always felt alone while there. There were other students, but she rarely interacted with them—though that was her own arrogance more than anything else. Even now, Imogen regretted how she had behaved when she had been in the temple. She wondered what Master Liu had thought of her.

  There were some students who had been there far longer than her three years, though they had progressed, whereas she never had. Jorend had shown some mastery of the earliest sacred patterns, unlike her. More failure.

  By the time she’d left, Jorend had been there for the better part of six years and had shown no sign of leaving. He was still working on Stream through the Trees, believing he would find meaning within it. And maybe he did. Imogen had gone through the sacred patterns she’s been shown, trying to understand each of them, but even though Master Liu had been willing to teach her, she had never learned anything more about those patterns.

  Imogen had to push all of that out of her mind. There was no point in rehashing what had been, and what no longer could be. She had left the sacred temple, and she had left Master Liu when she had chosen to take the bond quest.

  She opened her eyes and found Lilah sitting cross-legged, her fingertips pressed together while watching Imogen.

  “I can’t feel what he wants me to feel,” Lilah said. “He seems to believe there’s some power within this posture, but I cannot find it.”

  “I don’t know if it’s the posture so much as it’s a way of concentrating and focusing on some part deep within you.”

  “I didn’t think you knew magic.”

  Imogen shook her head. “Not magic. I know how to focus and to harness the power we each have within ourselves.”

  “Is that what you learned during your training?”

  Imogen nodded slowly. “There are different parts to training. If you are interested in learning the sword…”

  She looked over to Lilah expectantly, though she didn’t really think the girl had any interest in learning how to fight. Lilah shook her head quickly.

  Imogen continued. “Training involves understanding patterns, recognizing them, reacting with them, and letting your body move through those patterns. Over time, they become a part of you.” She sighed. “And then when you begin to learn some of the more challenging patterns, you start to harness the ones you learned before, and you try to use them so you can find even more power. Even more understanding. Over time, it is a matter of repetition.”

  She frowned as she said it. Repetition was just one part of it. Another part was understanding how those patterns would work with power. Even now, Imogen wasn’t sure if she fully understood that she had begun to understand some of the sacred patterns, but not so well as to know the truth behind them. Perhaps that truth was not meant for her.

  “Perhaps repetition, and learning how to concentrate, might help you with your sorcery,” Imogen offered.

  “Maybe that’s why he chose not to teach me the sword,” Lilah said.

  Imogen hadn’t considered that, though it suggested that Lilah’s father knew more about her hidden ability—and how learning the blade would impact it.

  “What about your sisters?”

  “I think they have potential.” Lilah stared at her fingertips and held them close together. “I would like to get back to them.”

  “You said that before.”

  “With the war…” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m sure my father will be sent away because of the war. He’ll be conscripted, and then who will protect them?”

  Imogen held Lilah’s gaze and hid her surprise. The Leier all trained to fight, but not Lilah’s father, it seemed. Imogen felt like she was missing something here, though was too tired—and too distracted by what they’d encountered—to spend the time needed to think it through. “That’s why you want to go back?”

  “Somebody has to watch over them,” Lilah said. “And if it has
to be me, then so be it. I have the family charm.”

  Imogen wasn’t sure if she should tell the girl that she suspected the charm to be an enchantment that Lilah was refilling with her power. “I understand the idea of wanting to protect your family,” she said instead.

  “I thought so. I heard you muttering something in your sleep.”

  “Did you?”

  “I… I wasn’t trying to overhear anything you were saying. It’s just that you were talking in your sleep, though you did so very quietly.”

  “If it was quiet, then you wouldn’t have any reason to overhear it,” Imogen said.

  “You lost someone you care about, didn’t you?” Lilah asked, and Imogen nodded. “What happened to him? You kept calling out his name.”

  Had she? She certainly had been thinking of him quite a bit these days, wondering what he might be doing and what dark energy he might be hoping to obtain. Could he be after Benji again? The possibility remained that Timo still hoped to trap Benji, steal his power, and gain what he needed to become a Sul’toral. Perhaps he would even try to use the branox in some way. Regardless of what it was, her brother was after something dangerous.

  Imogen breathed out and got to her feet, sweeping her gaze around the enclosed area. The sky overhead was a mixture of clouds, though a bit of sunlight streamed through the branches, giving her a feel for the type of day it was. “I have a brother. He’s been… lost,” Imogen said. That seemed fitting, at least for the truth of the matter. If they encountered Timo, then maybe she would have to explain more about him to Lilah, but for now, she would not.

  She fell into silence.

  “I’m surprised at how rested I feel,” Lilah said, standing up and modeling Imogen. “I didn’t know if I would sleep. I thought he was watching us”—she looked down to Benji—“but he’s sleeping.”

  “Not sleeping,” Benji muttered. “Thinking.”

  Imogen shook her head and turned to Lilah. “Be careful with him. He’s cantankerous.”

  “Not cantankerous,” he said. “Focused.”

  “See?”

  Lilah chuckled.

  Benji opened his eyes and glanced around. “We need to keep moving today, to find more branox and figure out why they were in the forest. There is something going on with the forest. You could feel it. I know you did. It’s why you were as weakened as you were.” He watched her, and there was almost an accusation in the way he did, though Imogen ignored it. “There may be something to the forest itself that is helping the hive. The branox need magic in order to feed and reproduce. If they’re using that, we need to discover what they intend and then stop it.”

  “If the hive is after magical users,” Imogen said, keeping her voice low and flicking her gaze over to Lilah, “then we know.”

  He nodded and took a deep breath. “Eat, drink, and do whatever must be done. When you’re finished, then we can lower these walls.”

  Imogen pulled some jerky out of her pocket and started chewing. She wished she had replenished her stores more at the last stop. At least her waterskin was still full, though she had no intention of using water from any stream in this forest until she knew it was safe. Even then, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to trust it.

  “We have a day or two at most in the forest,” Imogen said. “After that, our supplies will be depleted.”

  Benji pursed his lips. “Agreed.”

  “I don’t have much,” Lilah said.

  Imogen bit her tongue, choosing not to say anything about the fact that their supplies would’ve lasted longer had Lilah not been with them. Then again, without Lilah, Imogen wasn’t sure that they would have been able to defend themselves against the branox as easily.

  She handed some meat to Lilah. There was a hint of something in the girl’s eyes—disappointment or even embarrassment, Imogen didn’t know. Embarrassment would be the most appropriate. This was a girl who had magic, who’d never learned the sword, and whose family had made a point of hiding her from the rest of the Leier.

  Imogen knew she had to stop thinking like that, though. Why should Lilah feel embarrassed? She had magic, but her magic didn’t mean that she should be treated any differently. It was the Leier mindset, which was one Imogen had abandoned after she’d left her homeland. She no longer embraced the same values her people did.

  “We need to keep moving,” Benji said, looking around for a moment before his gaze settled on the ground. “I feel something.”

  He crouched down and rested his hands on the ground. It tremored for a moment, and then the walls around them shuddered until they disappeared, retreating back into the earth and leaving the three of them in the midst of the forest once again.

  Lilah’s eyes widened, and she looked to Imogen, as if fearing some reaction out of her. When Imogen didn’t say anything, Lilah turned back to Benji. “You said you’re not a sorcerer. What are you, then?”

  “Not a sorcerer.” He strode forward and jumped over a log that blocked his way.

  “Am I not supposed to know?”

  “He is what is called a Porapeth,” Imogen said. There was no point in keeping that from Lilah anymore. She doubted it would make any difference, especially when she didn’t know if he still wanted to keep that a secret from anyone.

  “They are nothing more than a myth,” Lilah whispered.

  “Not a myth. Beings of magic. Power. And as real as you and me,” Imogen said.

  They followed Benji, who paused at each tree as he had the day before, though this time he had a renewed vigor in his step. The night of rest seemed to have been good for him as well. Imogen wouldn’t put it past him to have recovered more than she had realized.

  “But he’s not a sorcerer,” Lilah said.

  “Not a sorcerer.”

  “That explains it, then.”

  They went a few more paces before Imogen looked over. “Explains what?”

  “Why you’re with him.” Lilah nodded to Benji. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you were willing to travel with a sorcerer. It seemed unusual for somebody of your obvious skill, a Leier with such talent, to travel with a sorcerer. I started to think that perhaps you were misleading me, but I saw you fight. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve obviously trained. And yet, traveling with a sorcerer…” She looked over to Imogen. “I thought maybe I was in the right place, that I was with somebody who would understand, somebody who could see me and my potential for something more.”

  “I do see it for something more,” Imogen said softly.

  “I’m not sure you do. You’re just like them.”

  Imogen shook her head. “I have spent quite a bit of time outside of the Leier homeland. I have worked with sorcerers, but I’ve also killed them. If that helps you feel better, then so be it, but know that I do not judge someone by whether they are a sorcerer but by who they are as a person.”

  Lilah watched Imogen, and the shadows of the forest were reflected in her eyes for just a second, reminding Imogen of how Timo had looked. Then the moment passed.

  Imogen shook her head. It was just the shadows.

  Still, it gave her reason to pause. What did they really know about Lilah? They had encountered her on the road. She had come after them, seeking them out.

  What if she was somehow with Timo?

  “I smell something up ahead,” Benji said, pausing briefly.

  “What do you—”

  A crackle in the air cut Imogen off, and she darted forward. The forest was dense here, making it difficult for her to flow into her sacred patterns. She had to stay focused on them, using Stream through the Trees to guide her, but Petals on the Wind helped her as well. She moved fluidly, stepping around thorny bushes that tried to snag at her pants, leaping up and over roots that threatened to grab her. At one point, she had to carve through a vine that nearly caught her neck.

  She could feel the power that was out there, and she knew it was coming toward her. Imogen turned using the sacred patterns, flowing through the ones that we
re easiest for her: Petals on the Wind, Stream through the Trees, and occasionally Axe Falling.

  “Take out as many as you can,” Benji said. “I think we are close.”

  “To the queen?” she asked, sweeping her gaze around the forest. There was no grand collection of branox, even though the air continued to crackle, and the distinctive sound she had come to associate with the branox grew louder.

  “Not the queen,” he said.

  “What is it, then?”

  He didn’t say anything more, and Imogen didn’t have a chance to ask again.

  She had to fight.

  Behind her, a surge of energy pressed against her skin. Sorcery.

  She spun, rushing forward and using her traditional patterns. She needed speed and precision to bring down these branox, though it was possible that the sacred patterns would be just as effective. For now, though, she thought that the traditional patterns would carry her through the battle more effectively.

  She had to carve through the branox quickly before they wore out Lilah’s enchantment. When they were down, Imogen twisted back and targeted the ones coming at Benji. A small tree blocked her way. Imogen darted to the side, and one of the creatures barreled through the tree, knocking it down with a loud crack. She jumped forward, sword already moving, and had to dodge sideways. A creature she hadn’t seen swatted at her, and she barely managed to avoid its strike.

  She didn’t know what would happen if one of the creatures managed to get close to her. They had sharp claws, and she feared what they might do to her.

  These were the times when she wished she had one of the enchantments she’d once worn in Yoran. Stone skin would be incredibly useful, but she’d used some of them and lost many of the others.

  She twisted and flowed, and each time she shifted patterns, the branox fell beneath her blade. Their foul blood spread around her, and soon the ground was littered with their bodies.

  Each time, she swept her blade in a quick, precise manner as she moved through a series of her traditional patterns. Their numbers remained fixed in her mind, a part of her she had always known. At least, it felt as if she had always known them.