Ghostflame (The Dragon's Scion Book 2)

by Alex Raizman

  “C…Clarcia?” he said again, the momentary relief at seeing her alive replaced with dread. Inch by inch she dragged her fingers across the wood of the door, and Armin could see that she’d managed to dig furrows in the thick wood.

  Her hand fell to her side. Armin stared at it. Something about her hand looked wrong. The tips were too white.

  Bone white.

  “Clarcia!” He shouted, his voice breaking from panic.

  Clarcia turned to face him with agonizing slowness. Her jaw hung loosely, as though she didn’t have the strength to close it anymore. Her eyes were milky-white and unfocused. Worst of all, in the center of her forehead, was a perfectly round hole where an unlight beam had bored through and destroyed her brain.

  Armin started to scream as Clarcia stood there, staring at him. He didn’t know if he would stop. He didn’t know if he would ever stop.

  His voice gave out before he did. He slumped to the floor, now weeping openly. He wanted to put out the light globe he’d created, but the idea of being in the darkness with her standing there, staring at him, kept him from giving in to that temptation. His shoulders shook.

  The entire time, Clarcia’s corpse stood there, watching him with a blank expression.

  Armin understood now.

  He was a prisoner, and Clarcia was his guard.

  Clarcia’s corpse shuffled to the side, and Armin looked up. He’d settled into the corner, his head down on his hands, giving him sight of Clarcia’s feet but sparing him the terrible view of her lifeless face. However, she was moving now, and he had to see.

  Ancient hinges creaked and the door ground open.

  Theognis stood there. He was exactly as Armin remembered, tall and imposing. His face was crisscrossed with scars, the remnants of an old battle. He wore a purple robe with golden thread, giving him the appearance of nobility. Theognis gave Armin a mocking grin. “Master Armin. How do you find the accommodations, hmm?”

  Armin didn’t answer with words. Instead, bared his teeth and lunged for the elderly Lumcaster, snarling animalistically. The wait had turned grief and despair into a dull rage and seeing Theognis had stoked that flame until it burst.

  The chain stopped Armin’s attack, snapping around his ankle and sending him crashing to the floor. Theognis hadn’t moved during the entire lunge. When Armin looked up, he was inspecting the underside of his fingernails for dirt. “Well, that was certainly….pointless,” Theognis said, not even bothering to look at Armin. “A failed Lumcaster, barely able to manifest light. What did you think to do? Did you intend to engage me in fisticuffs, like some street brawler?” Theognis laughed, and the sound was made more grating by how obviously fake it was. He gestured towards Clarcia. “This hunk of meat would have torn your limbs from your body and beaten you bloody with them before you’d even managed to touch me, even if it hadn’t been for the chain. A pointless waste of effort. But then again, that phrase perfectly encapsulates you, doesn’t it, Armin?”

  “You bastard,” Armin growled, forcing himself to his feet. “Light forsake you and shadow damn you, Theognis. Why?” the last word lost some of its anger, coming out as more of a plea.

  “Ahh. Why. Such an irritating question. You were always full of them. ‘Why can we draw from Lumwells where others can’t?’ ‘Why don’t we try to find a way to limit the mutations?’ ‘Why do we serve the Alohym?’ I should have slit your throat back then…but my masters insisted that I keep up appearances. They wanted to prevent the very rebellion you lead. I warned them…Oh, I warned them. They did not like that I was correct.”

  Theognis’ hands went up to his face, brushing against the scars. “They made me keep these for failing to suppress your rebellion, Armin. Did you know that? Of course, you didn’t. You, Armin, have only ever cared about what you want. What’s best for you.”

  Armin clenched his hands into fists so tight he thought they might draw blood. “You dare call me selfish? You?” Armin took a step forward, the chain rattling, a reminder he couldn’t wring his old teacher’s neck. “You sold us out to the Alohym! You betrayed the entire Collegium, you and your lackeys. And for what? For power?”

  Theognis chuckled and snapped his fingers. Clarcia’s corpse got down on her hands and knees, and Theognis sat on her back like she was a stool. “That was why you were always a terrible student, Armin. You could never see the bigger picture. No, dolt, I do not serve the Alohym out of a desire for power.”

  “Then I ask you again – why?”

  Theognis tapped his chin. “Ah, so that is what you meant by why. I thought it might be something more pertinent, such as – why am I still alive? Why did I come here? Why did you spare Ossman and that swordswoman? Maybe even why did I kill the sniper? But no, you are focused on the past, as you always were.”

  Armin tried to keep his face blank. Relief that Ossman and Aldreda were still alive warred with grief for Guiart, but both of those were overshadowed by a ray of hope. He doesn’t know about Synit. That meant there was still someone out there. Someone who could help them. “I limited my question to one I thought you might actually answer. But no, shame drives you to speak in circles.”

  “I feel no shame, Armin. Nor do I fear telling you. I serve the Alohym because I care about mankind. I did it for Alith.”

  Armin rocked back on his feet. “You…you honestly believe that?”

  Theognis nodded. “Oh yes. That is what you could not understand, Armin. The Alohym came to us with wonders we had never seen before. Hardened pills that would erase any disease, without the need for Light. Ships that could transport goods across vast distances. Boxes that would prevent food from spoiling, ensuring no one ever starved again. Do you know that one in four children died in their first year of life before their arrival? Do you know that of those, nearly half were in childbirth, and many of them took their mothers with them? Now only one in twenty perish in their first year. Deaths during birth are minimal now.

  “You and your rebellion are spitting on the beings who give us gifts, Armin. They give us wonders that would have taken us centuries to achieve on our own. They do this, and all they ask in return is that we pretend they are gods and worship them. Is that so high a price to pay?”

  Armin found himself backing away from Theognis. “You – what about the dozens they kill every day? What about those they force into their service? For the Light’s sake, what about what they do to the Lumwells?”

  Theognis held up his hand, three fingers outstretched. He ticked one down with each point. “The dozens they kill are traitors who claim oppression in the face of wonder. The ones forced into their service are needed for the greater good. And what of the Lumwells? Their Light is as valid as ours.”

  “They exterminated the dragons. They wiped out an entire species because they were afraid.”

  “And?” Theognis asked, raising an eyebrow. “Our ancestors were no better. Or do you truly believe the Underfolk prefer to live in caves beneath the Earth? I can see from your face you did. No, our ancestors forced them into those depths. They were able to adapt – bats are such remarkable animals – but we do not have the right to claim superiority.”

  “That doesn’t justify the Alohym!” Armin shouted.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is immaterial, really.” Theognis waved his hand dismissively. “As…entertaining as it has been to catch up with you, Armin, I didn’t keep you alive to educate you. You already proved yourself to be unteachable, regardless. Now.” Theognis leaned forward and rested his head on his knees. “Tell me where you hid the Daughter of Rephylon, or I’ll have my men slice strips of flesh off Ossman and sew the swordswoman’s face shut with them.”

  Chapter 44

  Armin reeled back from the threat. “I…I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he said, and hoped Theognis would take his widening eyes for fear, not shock.

  “Please,” Theognis said. Just that. Please. It was an archly dismissive word, one that said everything it needed to say about Theognis’ thought
s on Armin’s protest. He gave Armin a level stare before continuing. “We tracked her here. I would love to know how you found her first – and believe me, I fully intend on torturing the information out of you later – but for now, I simply require you to tell me where she is.”

  Armin felt his skin go clammy. This couldn’t get any worse. Not only was Theognis asking for something that Armin didn’t want to tell him, he couldn’t tell him. Synit could be anywhere by now. Think, Armin. Think. “We didn’t find her!” Armin protested, deciding that letting the fear show was the best tactic right now. The fact that he couldn’t have held it back even if he wanted to was immaterial. Torture me, you bastard. Rip me apart to prove to yourself that I don’t know. Leave them alone. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about!”

  “Then why were you here, hmm?” Theognis tapped his fingers on his chin.

  Armin hesitated. There wasn’t any harm in telling him, was there? Not about the Vacuity Engine, of course. If they survived this, it’d be best if the Alohym didn’t know they were looking for it. “Gold,” he said.

  “Gold?” Theognis asked, cocking his head to the side. “You came all this way for lucre? You’ve never been the material kind, Armin.”

  “It’s…”

  And then Armin clamped his mouth shut. Let him think he has to push you. Let him drag it out of you. Give him a lie to disprove, so he’ll accept it as truth. “I know we can’t win,” Armin said, looking down. “But I’ll be damned if I join you all. I was going to take the gold and set up a life somewhere, far away from here.”

  Theognis laughed. “So, you brought Ossman? Ossman. You expect me to believe that he was going to abandon your resistance?”

  “None of them were,” Armin said, the lies rolling off his tongue more easily now. “But I’d hoped to convince them. Tempt them with the appeal of a better life, one that doesn’t involve…all of this.”

  Theognis shook his head. “Armin. You disappoint me, boy. That upstart half-wyrm ‘princess’ of yours killed Rephylon. You claim that after you got your first ever taste of victory is when you betrayed your cause?”

  “It wasn’t a victory,” Armin said. His voice was miserable, and at least he didn’t have to feign that. He had plenty to be miserable about, although the death of Rephylon wasn’t one of them. “Everyone was acting like it was, but…it was one Alohym, and it nearly killed her in the process. I think I’d…had it in my head we’d win once we managed to kill one. That it was the big stepping stone, and once we crossed it, victory would be assured. Then you all broke us at Hallith. You had that…”

  Armin’s eyes narrowed as he made a connection he’d missed before. “That was that thing in the air! The flying Alohym. That was Rephylon’s daughter!”

  Theognis gave him a long, careful look, before chuckling. “You’ve gotten better, Armin. Not quite as dense as you used to be. You’re not quite right, however. Synit was…an early attempt at fusion. The one you saw was much better integrated.” Theognis paused and then shook his head. “Of course, you already knew that, didn’t you? You figured out they were kith and kin long ago. That’s how you tracked her here.”

  “I had no idea,” Armin swore, and it was nice to tell the truth here.

  Theognis absentmindedly swatted at a fly that was buzzing around his head. It dodged his blow and flew back to the door. “No, you didn’t, did you?” Theognis said, more to himself than to Armin. Armin started to relax, but Theognis wasn’t done. “You didn’t know they were one and the same. I can hardly blame you for that – wretched creature is so badly twisted she doesn’t look a thing like her brother. But if you think for a second that I believe that you came here to fill your own pockets…” Theognis shrugged and stood, finally getting off Clarcia’s back. “I think we’ll start with the eyes. Send her to you, blind, Ossman’s flesh welded over her vision. That will be-”

  Armin broke into a cold sweat. The earlier threat hadn’t been an exaggeration – Theognis truly meant to do it. “Wait!”

  Theognis paused. “Oh? Decided to tell the truth finally?”

  “We’re broke,” Armin said. The words came out in a babbled rush, and not just because he wanted to convince Theognis he was terrified. He was, of course, but he needed Theognis to believe it. So much for your vaunted moral high ground, you monster. “Not us, the resistance. We’re running on coppers and prayers. We came here to plunder the horde to fund our operations.”

  “Another stupid lie,” Theognis sighed.

  Now Armin’s heart started to pound in earnest. “I’m telling you the truth! We didn’t know anything about…about anyone. We needed the funds!”

  “You have access to the horde of Karjon the Magnificent. The last of the dragons. The largest horde on all of Alith. And you claim you’ve already exhausted it?”

  Armin gaped at Theognis, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

  Theognis chuckled. “You do, don’t you? Your vaunted ‘princess’ came to you with piles upon piles of gold, didn’t she? I figured that was why you chose her for the lie, because she’d bought her way into it.”

  “What?” Armin asked, his voice high. Theognis had gone from being terrifying to insane.

  “Oh yes, we know all about your little ruse.” Theognis sat back down on Clarcia, and the fury helped Armin cut through the confusion. “The Alohym have remarkable devices. One of them is…well, in their tongue it is a throk’lahypth. We haven’t been able to come up with a good Cardomethi translation for it, because we don’t have the words for the concepts it refers to. The best term would be a ‘hereditary detector,’ I suppose. It analyzes little fragments of information we all carry in our blood. Some was taken from the ‘princess’ while she was our captive and then analyzed against the same information in the bones of the royal family.” Theognis leaned forward. “They didn’t match. Your ‘princess’ is a lie, and we know it.”

  “You’re lying,” Armin said, swallowing on a suddenly dry throat.

  “Why would I bother lying?” Theognis spread his arms wide. “You’re going to die, Armin. You won’t spread anything I tell you to your peers. I gain nothing by telling you this. I, honestly, thought you were high enough in their ranks to know about the ruse.”

  Armin’s mind worked furiously. Her transformation. She’s turning into a dragon. Maybe that fools their machines. She wouldn’t lie to us…except she had, hadn’t she? She’d been in the conversation where they’d discussed resources, and she’d offered this place up for treasure. Hidden in the swamps of Dor’nah, fraught with peril. She’d never even mentioned her father’s hoard. It hadn’t even occurred to Armin.

  After all, why would she lie?

  “And now I see you know nothing.” Theognis looked almost…disappointed. “You don’t know the ‘princess’ is a lie. You don’t know you were sent here for Synit. You don’t know anything that could be of use to me. And because of that…” Theognis stood up. “I’m still going to drag what information you have out of you. Slowly and painfully. Who knows? You might know more than you realize. At the very least-”

  “Sir!” Someone was pounding on the door. “Sir, we need you. Immediately!”

  Theognis frowned and threw open the door. “What is it?” he said with a scowl.

  The man outside was dressed in the garb of an Alohym trooper, his eyes hidden behind the green visor they used to see in darkness. “One of the portal stones, sir!” The man’s voice was high with panic. “It was in the hoard. It’s activated! Something…something came through!”

  “Impossible!” Theognis shouted, sweeping from the room. It seemed he didn’t believe his own word. “Stay here with this one. I’ll have your corpse slaving in the sewers if he escapes.”

  The guard blanched and nodded, turning to face Armin and closing the door behind Theognis.

  “Can we get a bit of light, Lumcaster?” the guard asked.