Unseen (First of the Blade Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Two more days passed, and several more stone enchantments had attacked. Each time, Imogen had felt the power through the crackling energy in the air, and she’d been able to alert the others. Since realizing she was the only one who was aware of them, she’d scouted ahead, following the narrow path through the mountains, but she had hesitated to go too far. The enchantments deterred her, mostly because she didn’t know if the Leier would be able to withstand the attack.

  They had descended the mountain, seeing no further signs of the Koral, but Imogen started to wonder if they would. And if they did, how would the Leier react?

  Dangerously, she was certain of it.

  She had not been able to check on Lilah. Benji had visited her several times, and each time Imogen had asked, he’d told her he was ensuring her safety. Imogen had no idea what that meant when it came to Benji. Was he trying to teach her? It might be beneficial for Lilah to learn from him, especially because Imogen suspected that his Porapeth magic would not be detected by the others in the camp, though they would probably detect Lilah’s use of magic. Imogen feared antagonizing them. They had to be careful, and she didn’t get the sense from Benji that he was necessarily trying to be.

  Still, if he were able to teach Lilah, and even some of the others Koral, they might be able to defend themselves against the branox more effectively. At this point, that was all Imogen cared about.

  Imogen sat at the outskirts of the camp, the way she had each night, never bothering to go back to the general’s campsite. She didn’t want any recognition within the Leier, not anymore. She wanted to find the branox, destroy the queen, and be done with all of this. It troubled her that they seemed no closer to accomplishing this than before.

  “Have you ever thought of testing yourself?”

  She glanced up to see General Derashen standing above her, his body casting a looming shadow over her. “There is no point in doing that,” she replied.

  “You have no interest in leading?”

  She looked away, staring off into the darkness. “Who would I lead?”

  He chuckled, and he turned his gaze to the men and women gathered around. “Why, Imogen Inaratha, you could lead as you were trained to do.”

  She got to her feet, and she bowed her head to him. “There is no point in attempting to lead. As you made abundantly clear, I am unbonded.”

  Which meant she should return to the army. Finishing a bond quest meant returning to the Leier. Joining your blade to those of the people. Except that Imogen found that more difficult than she would have expected.

  “Do you understand why I made that point?” he said.

  “Because you wanted to prove to the others that what I told you about these creatures is foolish. I can tell you it’s not. I have seen them myself, and they’re violent and deadly. They will—”

  The general held up his hand, cutting her off. “I don’t care about these creatures. Well, that’s not true. If they are as awful as you describe, and if they truly are what you tell me they are, then they may very well be worth us destroying.”

  “They are worth destroying,” Imogen said.

  “If they feed on magic, I don’t know.”

  “My bond quest took me on a journey to hunt other creatures that feed on magic. Our people have long believed that the hyadan were worthy of destruction, and now you question whether these creatures—ones that share many similar characteristics—are worth destroying, just because they might feed on your enemy?”

  “Mine? Not yours?” General Derashen asked, his voice careful.

  Imogen squeezed her eyes shut. “In my journey beyond our homeland, I have come to see magic differently.” There was no point in denying it, not to him. She didn’t think it mattered anyway. “I have come to see magic as dependent on the magical user.”

  “Maybe you have found wisdom.”

  She snorted. “That is not what others would claim.”

  “Others struggle finding their own wisdom,” he said. “But I have come to see that we must judge a person by their actions.” He nodded to her, then glanced behind him. Imogen followed the direction of his gaze, which led to the prison. “We hold the Koral because we know they are dangerous, but we also must recognize that the danger they possess is perhaps different than what we know.”

  “I have seen no evidence of magic from any of them.”

  It wasn’t entirely true, but she wasn’t about to reveal to him that she thought the Koral were using magic to keep themselves safe. They might be using more magic than what was needed to keep themselves warm, but she refused to share that with General Derashen.

  “No magic,” he said, “but perhaps there will be. If these creatures you claim are out there—”

  Imogen leaned toward him. “They are.”

  “If they’re out there,” he went on, “then we will stop them.” He frowned, regarding her for a long moment.

  There had been no sign of the branox so far. Benji hadn’t detected anything either. The only things that suggested they were still heading in the right direction were the stone golems, and even those were more traditional magic than anything else.

  He sighed. “Have you considered your possibilities?”

  “What possibilities?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You could test yourself.”

  “I have no interest.”

  “You have already demonstrated yourself.” He swept his gaze around the camp. “Others have begun to talk. They speak of the First of the Blade with skill that far exceeds her station.”

  “They have seen me fighting rock and magic, nothing else.”

  “You think it’s what you have fought that makes a difference?”

  Imogen looked over to him. She didn’t want this. This was not why she had come. She had come because she wanted to deal with the branox. Returning to the Leier was only one part of it, but certainly not what she intended.

  “I don’t think it matters,” she said. “I fight when I need to, I do what has to be done, and I have learned what’s been necessary to accomplish my goals.”

  He smiled at her. “Of course you have. You took your bond quest.” Something in the way he said it suggested more.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I only mean that you took a bond quest. You completed it.”

  “So now I’m unbonded.”

  “Unbonded does not mean you cannot help the people. In fact, one would argue that it means you are prepared in a way that very few are. What do you choose?”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  General Derashen turned and walked away. He didn’t seem to want one, either.

  Imogen tucked her knees up, and she stared out into the night. She could hear voices around her, a steady murmuring. It had been a while since she’d been around anybody other than Benji and Timo, and recently Lilah, so the sound of all these voices around her was strange, and somewhat irritating. Even when she had been in Yoran, she had not wanted to be around too many people. She had preferred the silence and solitude that she had been able to find, which, surprisingly enough, had been far easier than she would’ve expected.

  She got to her feet, needing to find Benji. She had to know where the branox were moving to, and to prepare for them. Eventually, they would encounter them again.

  Imogen made a steady circuit of the camp and neared the prison section.

  Somebody came racing up behind her. She turned, already bracing to react, but saw that it was only one of the Firsts, the man with the thin mustache. She’d seen his skill and talent, but his movements were not quite precise enough.

  He bowed and Imogen returned it, meeting him at the same level, and he bowed even deeper.

  She frowned. “What do you need?”

  “Imogen Inaratha, I wondered if I might have an opportunity to test myself with you.”

  A challenge? She was the same level as he was. What point would there be in challenging her?

  “I think you’ve made a mistake,�
� she said. “I am a First of the Blade like you.”

  He shook his head. “I only want to learn and do not seek a challenge. I would like to see these patterns you use, which are unique. I saw the power they possess when you took on the stone enchantments. All I seek is to learn.”

  Imogen shrugged. “I suppose.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time she had sparred since leaving the Leier lands. When she had been in Yoran, she had worked with Gavin Lorren and helped him learn, though he was far more capable than most who lived outside the Leier lands. He had mastered the traditional patterns with only a few demonstrations. Imogen had known he had a mind for the different fighting styles, but seeing somebody master patterns as quickly as he had still impressed her. And he had been the reason she’d come to believe that there was something more within those patterns, and something within the sacred ones as well.

  “I will fetch the practice reeds,” he said.

  Imogen pursed her lips and nodded. At the level of First of the Blade, practice was not done with staves, it was done with steel. She found it odd that he would choose to use the practice staves, as if he were some new recruit who was first learning the blade.

  She waited until he was gone, then turned her attention to the prison section. There were several dozen Koral within it, but they didn’t look like they were prisoners. All of them appeared as though they were willing to be there—as if they had chosen this. She discovered something about them as she paced around. Not only were they seemingly content where they were, but there was something odd about their appearance. This was something she’d noted when she had encountered the soldiers, but it became even clearer now that the Koral were gathered together, surrounded by Leier soldiers.

  They looked like Leier.

  Imogen had never fought the Koral, had never passed through their homeland. She knew what she had been taught about them, but then, she knew what she had been taught about magic as well, and that had been wrong.

  She approached the perimeter of the Koral encampment, lost in these thoughts.

  “Are you checking to make sure she’s still alive?”

  The voice that came out of the darkness forced her to spin, and she frowned as she faced the master swordsman.

  “Yes,” Imogen said.

  “They are our prisoners.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “If you attempt to rescue any of them, we will treat you as a traitor. Which we should anyway.”

  Imogen shook her head. “What have I done to upset you? I have attempted nothing more than to try to help, and in the time I’ve been here, all I’ve gotten from you is anger. I don’t know you, though you obviously remember me.”

  “You don’t remember because you have chosen not to.”

  “I seem to remember saving you. Now, if that bothers you then so be it, but that is your shame, not mine.”

  He bristled slightly at the mention of shame. This was not the way she expected a master swordsman to behave. Certainly not somebody with five notches in their blade.

  “You have dishonored me for the last time,” he said.

  “How exactly have I dishonored you?”

  He stared. “Your inability to remember is even more of a dishonor.”

  She scoffed and turned away. Imogen spotted Lilah’s familiar face in the middle of the prison section, which told her that the girl was well, and that was all she cared about at this point. She didn’t want anything to happen to the Koral, and increasingly, she suspected that as long as General Derashen remained in command, nothing would happen.

  This man, though? If the general fell, he would be next in line. He obviously had a different view of the Koral.

  “You do me a disservice by not challenging me,” he said.

  She turned back and eyed him. “What point would there be in that?”

  “Point?” he asked, frowning. “The point is for you to follow Leier traditions.”

  She ran her finger along the hilt of her sword. “I am merely a First of the Blade. You have five notches.”

  “Nearly six.”

  Imogen grunted. “Nearly six notches, and I would never think myself capable of challenging one such as you. I know I would be handily defeated.”

  “You would have the opportunity to test yourself.”

  “And you would have the opportunity to punish me,” she said.

  Which was probably exactly what he wanted. He, for whatever reason, wanted her to challenge him so that he could do something to her. It was an odd thing, but even odder was that he would use a desire for advancement to find some recompense for perceived slights.

  Imogen had no interest in fighting him, even if she suspected she could defeat him. There was little doubt in her mind that she had progressed in her skill. Having seen the Leier in battle, she knew she exceeded the rank of First of the Blade. She had seen this man fight as well. He didn’t have the knowledge of the same sacred patterns she did. Perhaps he had knowledge of other sacred patterns, despite the notches on his blade, but if he did, he should’ve used them.

  “It is not punishment,” he said. “It is education. And if you choose not to learn, then perhaps I should find the one here you care about and show them.”

  He walked forward into the prison section.

  “What are you going to do?” she called.

  “I am going to prove to you that they are little more than dogs.”

  “And what would General Derashen say about that?”

  He paused a moment. “General Derashen? He recognizes that that’s what the Koral are.”

  Imogen could feel energy beginning to build—magic. There was power within the prisoner area. If somebody decided to demonstrate their skill, it would practically guarantee that this master swordsman would react.

  And that person would be cut down.

  But for what reason? Because of his anger? That didn’t seem like a reason for someone to be killed.

  He stopped in front of an older Koral man who had the graying hair of a Leier elder, along with a tapered beard. His eyes were soft, though, where those of so many of the Leier elders were hard. As Imogen followed the master swordsman into the prison section, she could feel the energy coming off the old man. He was using magic, but Imogen could already tell that the power the man possessed was not nearly enough to defend himself against even a First of the Blade.

  “You would dare use your power here, shaman?” the master swordsman spat.

  The Koral man held his hands up with a resigned look on his face. In a blur of movement, the master swordsman unsheathed his blade and surged forward.

  Imogen reacted without thinking. She unsheathed her weapon and flowed using Stream through the Trees, catching the aggressor’s blade. He spun toward her, his anger radiating from him.

  She sneered. “You wanted a challenge?”

  He glowered at her. “You will regret this.”

  He darted back, his control over the traditional patterns incredible. She had trained in the traditional patterns and focused on them, but as he danced toward her, she recognized his precision and his strength.

  Imogen wasn’t going to be able to overpower him. She wasn’t faster than him either. She barely deflected each move he made. But she also recognized that she did not need to do more. She blocked, twisting her sword and spinning one way, then the next. Each time she turned her blade, she could feel him trying to overpower her.

  “You still don’t remember, do you?” he asked.

  He brought his weapon around, sweeping it toward one of the Koral who got close. Imogen roared and surged forward, Petals on the Wind turning into Lightning Strikes in a Storm, catching his blade and forcing it up.

  When she switched into the sacred patterns, she felt something different. She’d never confronted another Leier with the sacred patterns, she’d always used the traditional ones. The only time she’d used the sacred patterns had been against magic or against creatures, or when sparring with someone who possessed magic of th
eir own.

  In this case, there was a different need. She was overpowered and would not be able to defeat him through the traditional patterns.

  But that was not her only ability now.

  She blocked, then twisted her sword up, putting herself in front of the Koral.

  “There you go proving where your allegiances lie,” the swordsman said. “I have tried telling General Derashen that you have too often demonstrated your willingness to sacrifice your own people.”

  What had she done to wrong him that he made comments like that? She had not sacrificed their people. She had done nothing other than try to help them.

  He darted forward, lightning fast, not only with speed but with precision. The connection that he had and the way he moved were too quick, and the patterns he used were far more advanced than what she had learned.

  But he didn’t even try to use the sacred patterns.

  He’d mastered five of them, given his notches, but Master Liu had shown Imogen thirteen. She wasn’t a master of any of them, at least not that she had been told, but perhaps she didn’t need to be. She was a master of at least a few.

  And what she had seen from this man told her that while he might have the notches signifying mastery, he did not have the knowledge and understanding of the sacred patterns that she did.

  She had seen him fight, had seen him face the stone golems. He might have speed and power, but he did not understand the sacred patterns.

  Perhaps General Derashen had been right. Perhaps she needed to test herself.

  That wasn’t the reason she had come here. She never would have put herself against somebody with five notches, but maybe she needed to grow.

  More than that, she needed to prove it to herself. She needed to demonstrate that she was more than what she had been before.

  Imogen had been a First of the Blade, but now she was something else.

  Someone else.

  She turned and flowed, ignoring the traditional patterns altogether. His face flickered with a moment of confusion as she began to switch to Petals on the Wind. He twisted, driving his blade down. She caught it with hers and flowed again, moving into her next pattern, Stream through the Trees. And then she slowed, pausing for a moment when he brought his sword toward her, and she switched to Tree Stands in the Forest.