Smoke and Summons (Numina Book 1)

by Charlie N. Holmberg

  Not enough for Kolosos. Not enough for her.

  Sandis’s legs lost their strength. She fell to her knees, her collar lifting and digging into her jaw as she went.

  Kazen waited patiently, his grip on the chain never easing. “Galt.”

  Galt grabbed her under her arms and heaved her up. She found some semblance of balance, and suddenly she was in the back of the room, near the ox. When had she walked over here? The click of metal from her chain locking with the link bolted to the floor echoed across the expanse.

  Sweat gathered in every crevice of her skin. She couldn’t breathe. Not this toxic air. Oh Celestial, save me.

  Her god wouldn’t save her. No one would. Maybe . . . just maybe, she’d be strong enough to survive this. Maybe it would be no different than Ireth . . . Kolosos would take her in a flash of light, and she’d wake up later in her room and find a way to leave. She’d have to leave somehow. The destruction Kazen could do with that monster—she shuddered to imagine it. Yes, she’d leave. Break her script. She knew where Talbur was. She could—

  The outline of an old stain on the floor caught her attention. Heath.

  He had been able to possess a seven, like her. He’d been bigger and stronger. He had died instantly.

  “Oh God,” she whispered.

  “The only ‘god’ you need to concern yourself with is the one about to join us, dear Sandis,” Kazen said, but there was an edge to his words. Like her oath had rankled him.

  Her eyes watched his as he drew a sword from a sheath at his waist. It took her a moment to recognize it—the same blade that had slit the mare’s throat before Heath died. Kazen urged the ox forward, to the end of its own chain. It had no idea that—

  The sword hacked into its neck. The whites of the animal’s eyes swelled. Sandis shrieked and tried to move away, but Galt’s hands clamped down on her arms. Kazen swung the sword around so that it bit into the ox’s jugular. This time, it sliced clean through.

  The ox fell, twitching, its blood readily pooling on the floor. Sandis pushed against Galt as it crept toward her, but he was unmovable. The hot blood licked the sides of her feet, then seeped under her toes.

  Kazen looked pointedly at her, then at his sword. “Let her go, Galt.”

  Her eyes flicked to the door.

  She’d done this before she was bound to Ireth. But this time there was so much blood.

  Galt released her. Stepped back. Choked.

  Sandis shifted her gaze to him just as the ceremonial sword split open his neck, just like the ox’s.

  She screamed and jerked away from the gruesome, wet mouth forming under Galt’s chin, only to slip and fall into the ox’s blood. She screamed again, new tears streaming down her face. Kazen released Galt’s hair and let him fall into the growing puddle, his blood mixing with the ox’s.

  “No sacrifice is greater than human sacrifice,” Kazen muttered, his eyes lingering on Galt for the briefest moment. “I will make no mistakes this time.”

  Sandis yanked at her chain, desperate to get away from Galt’s corpse, from the blood pooling ever closer to her. But the steel held, and when the hot, sticky liquid lapped at her legs, she sobbed.

  “Stand up, Sandis.”

  She tried to, if only to limit how much of her skin touched—

  “I said stand up.” Kazen’s fingers coiled in her hair and yanked her upright. Her feet slid in the crimson pool. Her scalp threatened to tear. She found her balance, but she shook so violently she was sure she’d collapse. She begged unconsciousness to claim her.

  “H-He was your f-friend,” she whispered.

  Kazen chuckled. “My friends are far more useful.” He looked over his stained sword, frowned, and tossed it onto the floor behind the corpses. Then he pinched Sandis’s hand and forced her to meet his eyes. “You’re my friend, aren’t you, Sandis?”

  Tears mottled her vision. She wrenched free of his grasp, the chain tugging on her neck as she did so. “You’re a monster.”

  He was nonchalant. “We’ll prove them wrong, Sandis. We’ll finally show the world the truth.”

  Sandis kept her eyes on him to avoid looking at Galt, or the blood enveloping her toes. “What do you mean?”

  He moved so fast his hand and sleeve blurred into gray. A silver ring on his finger bit into her cheekbone. Sandis nearly fell back into the blood.

  She stared into the scarlet puddle a long moment, pain pulsating from her face.

  He’d hit her. In all the years Sandis had known him, Kazen had never before struck her.

  Grabbing her chin again, Kazen forced her face back to his. He inspected the damage. Sandis knew there was no blood; Kazen would never risk damaging her when he was about to fulfill his goal. He pulled a vial of water—purified water—from his coat and uncorked it. Then he dumped the stuff over her head.

  Sandis tried to move away from it, but the chain held tight, and she nearly slipped. Her eyes passed over Galt, and bile rose up in her throat, burning and putrid. She tried to swallow it, but she gagged and spat it out. Shook. Fuzzy rings formed around her vision.

  Kazen pressed his palm to her forehead. She shifted away, but he grabbed her hair, holding her in place.

  “Vre en nestu a carnath,” he murmured.

  Tears trailed down her cheeks. “Please,” she whispered, but the plea was swallowed up by the next words, uttered louder than the first.

  “Ii mem entre I amar.”

  Pressure built up in the sides of her neck, her shoulders. Not like Ireth’s. It felt wrong, like her spirit had solidified and was trying to escape. It pushed out, stretching her—

  “Vre en nestu—”

  The door to the room slammed shut. A voice called, “This is disgusting.”

  Sandis stopped breathing.

  That voice.

  That voice.

  But . . . how?

  Kazen whipped around so quickly he pulled several strands of hair from Sandis’s scalp. The pressure building in her neck receded. Rage flowed from Kazen like molten iron. Sandis strained to see around him.

  Rone. She blinked. It couldn’t be.

  Rone?

  He stood just inside the door, which he’d barred with a piece of wood. Alys was wrapped up in his arms, facing them, her eyes wide with terror and focused on the blood—on Galt. Rone held a knife to her neck.

  “Really,” he said. “It will take hours to clean this up.”

  “You dare”—Kazen’s voice was gravel and fire—“interrupt this sacred moment?” He took a step forward. “How—”

  “Uh-uh.” Rone wiggled the knife at Alys’s throat. “Stay where you are.”

  Sandis’s focus shifted from Kazen to Rone, Rone to Alys, Alys to Rone. He had come back? He . . . what? She strained to see better and slid, falling to her hands and knees in Galt’s blood. Bile burned up her tender throat once more.

  Kazen laughed. “You stupid boy. I’ve watched you. I’ve researched you. I know you. You won’t kill my vessel. You’re already dead.”

  Rone clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Dropped his knife and let Alys go.

  Then he whipped a pistol out of his jacket pocket and fired.

  Sandis’s ears rang. The wall behind Kazen popped with the impact.

  Rone had missed.

  Before a curse could leave his mouth, Kazen’s hand flashed silver, and his own pistol fired. The bullet rang when it hit the metal of Rone’s gun and knocked it out of his hand. Rone instinctively cradled the hand as Kazen dropped the first single-fire pistol and drew another. Aimed.

  “No!” Sandis screamed, and she launched her blood-drenched body at his legs. She hit him a split second before he fired.

  Dust exploded from the ceiling where the bullet hit. Kazen slid in the blood and fell onto his hip. Sandis tried to move away, only to reach the end of her chain.

  She didn’t know how many guns Kazen had. If the second pistol was a single fire or not. She grabbed his wrist, smearing Galt’s blood over his hand and sleeve.


  Kazen wrenched his arm free and smashed his elbow into Sandis’s jaw, knocking her back into the pool. She slid in the cooling blood. Grabbed his belt and yanked him down, away from the dropped gun and the ceremonial sword.

  A silver key fell from his pocket, falling just outside the blood puddle.

  Then Rone was on them. He launched himself onto Kazen, and the two rolled out of Sandis’s reach. Someone’s fists thundered against the door. The wood holding it began to splinter.

  Rone threw a hard punch into Kazen’s face, and the man went limp. Sandis gawked. Was he crushed so easily?

  She strained for the key. Couldn’t reach it. “Rone.” His name was high and choked from the collar pushing against her windpipe. “Key.”

  Rone leapt from Kazen and dropped to his knees in front of her, swiping the silver key. More fists on the door. His fingertips flew over her collar, looking for the keyhole. She bent her neck so he could find it in the back.

  The collar fell into the blood, and Sandis breathed for the first time that day. She looked up into Rone’s dark eyes, and for a moment they stared at each other. Confusion boiled inside her.

  Why? Why everything?

  Kazen laughed.

  Sandis and Rone both jumped at the sound. Kazen stood on the far edge of the room. The sight of Alys in his grip sucked Sandis’s organs together and turned them to ice. A bruise had begun to bloom on the side of Kazen’s nose. “So easily distracted by a semblance of freedom, hm? You’re in my domain, Rone Comf.” He pushed his hand over Alys’s forehead.

  The key had been a distraction. The unconsciousness faked. Now Alys would be his weapon . . . They couldn’t fight Alys. She would take all the injuries, not Isepia—

  Rone leapt to his feet. “Wait!” he shouted, and he pulled something from his pocket. It glimmered under the light of the lamps.

  The amarinth. Sandis’s heart plummeted to her navel.

  “Want this?” he asked. “Let’s make a trade.”

  “Rone, you—” But Sandis stopped herself. Stared.

  That wasn’t the amarinth. The center was wrong—it looked like a carved piece of silver, not the sparkling, unearthly white core she knew. A fake? She struggled to get her slick feet beneath her.

  Kazen grinned. “In due time.” And he began chanting.

  Rone bolted across the room to stop him. But Kazen was a practiced summoner. The words were out of his mouth before Rone could reach them.

  A flash of light, a distant scream, as if Alys wailed from the far end of a hallway. Rone skidded to a stop mere feet away from Isepia.

  “Kill him, my darling,” Kazen crooned.

  The gray-skinned numen stretched out a single black wing and clenched her taloned hands. Hissed at the sight of Rone.

  She lunged, and the wood barring the door shut finally broke in two. Ravis and Staps ran in and froze at the sight of the numen, who would have decapitated Rone had he not dropped to the floor half a second later.

  Sandis ran toward him, but Kazen shouted to Staps, “You, grab the vessel! Ravis, get the amarinth!”

  Staps charged toward Sandis, his corded hair whipping behind him. She backpedaled, then tried to duck under his arm, but he was too fast and caught the back of her shirt. Wound her in like a snake. Struggling against him, she spied Rone wielding his knife again.

  “Don’t hurt her!” she cried, as Staps hauled her back to the lake of blood. “It will hurt Alys!”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Rone swiped at the numen, only to have her backhand him. He flew back and hit the wall—

  Staps turned, blocking Sandis’s view. She heard Isepia hiss, a gun fire.

  “Hold her!” Kazen barked, and Staps’s grip tightened.

  Kazen, blazing with fury, reached for Sandis’s head.

  Don’t hurt the monster. Yeah. Good plan.

  Rone’s current plan was to, first, stay alive and, second, keep the deranged eagle woman between himself and the grafter. Who had a gun. Because this was the best day ever.

  The numen launched at him again, striking out with her clawed hands. It was like fighting a giant viper. The monster could fly, but the ceiling wasn’t particularly high, so she had little room to do so. Rone tried to use that to his advantage. The numen swiped; he ducked. Swiped again; he blocked—bad idea. The strength of her blow cracked up his arm and sent him face-first into the wooden floor, smashing his nose. He heard her wing flap behind him and rolled, barely missing her next attack. Her talons stuck into the wood floor.

  Rone jumped to his feet, his nose, head, back, and arm throbbing. He flexed his fingers. Nothing broken yet, but blood from his nostrils ran down his lips.

  Beyond the numen, a gun cocked.

  Rone ducked. The grafter fired.

  The numen screeched like a banshee and ripped her hands free from the floor in an explosion of splinters. A few drops of black blood pattered onto the ground beside her. For a moment, her hair flashed blonde, her skin peach. Alys. But the numen held on.

  She also turned her attention to the grafter and, with a single beat of her wing, soared toward him and separated his throat from the rest of his body.

  Rone’s stomach tightened, ready to upend itself, but his thoughts kept him focused, even as the grafter’s corpse fell to the floor.

  The numen had killed the grafter.

  Kazen hadn’t told her to kill the grafter.

  Everything Sandis had taught him about the occult zipped through his mind. Blood. Kazen needed blood to exercise full control over the numina.

  Could it be that he didn’t have Alys’s? That in his quest for this Kolosos and for Sandis, he’d let this vessel’s maintenance slip?

  Despite the macabre scene surrounding him, a smile twitched on Rone’s mouth. He could use this.

  He chucked the fake amarinth at the numen.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said as she swerved toward him. “Want to play tag?”

  “Vre en nestu a carnath—”

  Sandis tore more hair from her scalp, trying to twist out of Kazen’s grasp. His fingers touched her lips, and she bit down until blood filled her mouth.

  Kazen shouted and ripped his hand back, the incantation ruined. Sandis spat. Staps squeezed her in his arms, threatening to pull her shoulders from their sockets.

  Kazen’s other hand flew forward and clamped around her neck, each fingernail pushing a bruise into the skin. He leaned in close, his moist forehead sticking to hers.

  “You can fight all you want, but it will do nothing for you, just as it did nothing for Heath.” He smiled. “But you are not Heath. He was an experiment. You are my chosen one. This has been your destiny all along, Sandis. I didn’t realize it at first, but I knew. Deep in my spirit, I knew, even from the first time I saw you on the streets. You’ve always been special, my dear girl. Now you must live up to it, whether you want to or not.”

  He pulled away from her, the lingering stale smell of his breath clouding in front of Sandis’s nose. She was about to spit in his face, but something from his pathetic attempt at encouragement stuck in her head.

  “From the first time I saw you on the streets.”

  Kazen had met her in a cellar, not on the streets.

  “Kolin citizens can’t be sold as slaves.”

  Then why would slavers look for slaves in Dresberg?

  It clicked then, like the cocking of a gun hammer.

  “It was you.” Her hands and feet were cold, her shoulders numb, her heart too big for her body. “They weren’t slavers. They were grafters.”

  Kazen leaned back, nearly smug. “What a bright little girl you are, Sandis. An open spirit like yours is so hard to come across.”

  “Then why . . .” Yet she knew why. Why the “slavers” had held her for two months before taking her to Kazen. So he would be her hero. Because life with him was so much better than life in the cellar with those men.

  That was why they’d been so careful whenever they beat her. Why they’d still kept her fed. Why they’d
never raped her. Because she’d belonged to Kazen all along. They had merely held her until Kazen deemed fit to bring her into his fold.

  Her eyes watered. Had Kazen killed Anon to get to her? Used him as bait to lure her into the darker parts of the city?

  But there were no more words to be exchanged between them. Kazen pressed his hand against Sandis’s still-wet hair and began the summoning spell anew, the words speeding past his lips—

  Footsteps thundered toward them, closer, closer. Staps shifted to look, giving Sandis some space to turn her head.

  Rone barreled their way, Isepia on his heels. He launched feetfirst into the blood, purposefully falling and sliding forward, slipping right between Sandis and Kazen. Isepia didn’t even slow.

  Sandis screamed, and Staps loosened his hold to avoid the numen. Sandis ducked. Isepia collided into Kazen, sending both of them hurtling onto the blood-soaked floor.

  Staps grabbed Sandis’s arm and hauled her upright. Remembering the move Kurtz had taught her, she turned into him and sent her hand into his neck with as much force as she could muster. It worked; Staps let go and took a step back, putting enough distance between himself and Sandis for Rone to land a hard roundhouse kick to the side of his head. His eyes rolled back, and he fell, splashing coagulating blood over their legs.

  Breathing heavily, Sandis looked at Rone. Just looked, their eyes meeting for several heartbeats.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Rone lifted his hand to his hair, then saw the blood on it and dropped it. “That is a question I have too many answers for.”

  Kazen’s voice cut the air behind them. “Parte Isepia en dragu bai!”

  A shiver coursed through the attacking Isepia, and she shrunk and paled into Alys. Kazen easily pushed her unconscious body off him, ignoring the bleeding wound on her shoulder. It absorbed Sandis’s focus completely. It needed to be wrapped, cauterized . . . something. Was the bullet still in there? Would she bleed out before she woke? Could Sandis somehow get to her before—

  Kazen jumped to his feet with surprising agility. Isepia’s talons had torn his coat, vest, and shirt, and his chest bled in streaks. A cut across his forehead dripped crimson into his eyebrows and down his long nose.