Ruins and Revenge

by Lisa Shearin

  “I was told of this,” Maralah said, in modern Goblin.

  Even her voice was nearly identical to her mother’s.

  “The ravings of a madman,” Sandrina spat dismissively.

  The princess’s voice was as a breeze crossing a glacier. “That should be for me to decide, should it not, Lady Ghalfari?”

  “Of course, Your Highness, it is just that Tamnais Nathrach was linked to the Saghred, a great stone of power known to cause mad—”

  “My people have heard of this stone,” Maralah interrupted. “It is a source of great evil.” She glanced down at Sandrina’s armor, which bore the Khrynsani serpent emblazoned in red on the chestplate. “And by fault of your predecessors’ greed, the indirect cause of the destruction of our land.”

  “The Saghred has been destroyed,” I said.

  Her pale eyes narrowed. “When?”

  “Two months ago, Your Highness.”

  She leaned forward. “It was allowed to spread its evil all this time?”

  “It was lost for most of that time, taken by a brave Guardian to keep it out of the hands of those who would abuse its power. The Khrynsani found the person the stone had forcibly taken for its keeper, and took the stone from her, intending—”

  “A bond you shared with the Saghred through Raine Benares—” Sandrina added.

  “A link that was against my will.”

  “Spare me your protestations of your purity and innocence, Tamnais. Your magic called to it.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be either pure or innocent. And yes, my magic responded to it; but I resisted, as I have resisted since leaving the goblin court—”

  “Forced to leave, for the murder of your wife.”

  Fury built in my gut. “You poisoned and murdered my wife to force me out, so you and Sathrik could murder my queen and steal her throne.”

  “So you failed twice—to save your wife and your queen—and now you attempt to cast the blame on others—”

  “Silence!” Maralah’s voice cracked like a whip. “I will have silence,” she continued, her voice quieter, but no less commanding. “Silence and peace.”

  I bowed my head. “Forgive me, Your Highness. Lady Ghalfari delights in opening old wounds.”

  “That is becoming quite clear,” Maralah murmured thoughtfully.

  I raised my head to see the princess’s searching gaze locked on Sandrina’s frozen and now pale face.

  Time to take a big gamble.

  “Your Highness, do you possess the same abilities as your mother, the queen?”

  “Abilities?”

  “Magic. Gifts of the mind. The ability to see into the heart and soul of another, to know if the words they speak are true and their honor is genuine.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Then I welcome you using your gift to know the honor of my intentions.”

  “Your Highness, I must protest.” The official’s voice was low and smooth, the voice of a man used to getting his way.

  Maralah frowned. “On what grounds, Advisor Karnia?”

  “Tamnais Nathrach is a powerful practitioner of magic. To put yourself—”

  “Should not I be the one who decides where I do and do not put myself?”

  “Of course, Your Highness. I did not mean to imply otherwise. I am simply concerned that—”

  “I will discover the truth, Advisor Karnia?” she injected mildly. “The truth must always be known, regardless of any risk, real or imagined.” Maralah turned her attention to Sandrina. “Lady Ghalfari, do you likewise welcome my examination?”

  “Of course.”

  Sandrina had hesitated just enough to tell me she didn’t welcome this at all. In fact, her mind was presently racing to come up with a way out. A meld the depth of what Maralah was about to do would bare Sandrina in the most intimate way possible. While Sandrina Ghalfari was lovely to look at, her soul was rotten to the core, her motivations self-serving, her concerns for herself alone.

  I knew what I was, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. It was what I had done since my time as Gilcara’s enforcer that would redeem me in Maralah’s eyes.

  Or not.

  There was nothing I could do to change her mind once she had seen what was inside of me. I could only hope that she would understand the failings of a mere mortal, the continuing efforts of a man trying to do the right thing.

  Maralah came down the dais stairs with measured steps, never taking her eyes from mine.

  Perhaps sensing Sandrina’s desire to escape from what was to come, or fearing any attempt by me to harm their princess, two of the guards moved closer, stopping about five feet behind us.

  I wholeheartedly approved.

  History does indeed repeat itself.

  Ten centuries ago, Kansbar Nathrach stood in this same room and subjected himself to a mind link with Baeseria, queen of the Cha’Nidaar. Now his descendant stood ready to do the same with her daughter.

  I hoped the meeting of minds turned out as well for me as it had for my ancestor.

  As I had with Agata when she had asked to do the same as a condition for joining the expedition to Nidaar, I opened my mind completely as Maralah placed her hands on either side of my head. Her eyes widened slightly at my show of complete trust.

  We didn’t have time for anything else.

  Princess Maralah wasn’t selective in her review of my memories. Her mind flew across the entirety of my life, seeing all the people and events who had made me the mage now standing before her, my eyes on hers. She saw all that happened with the Saghred—from the beginning to the night in the Khrynsani temple when the Saghred was destroyed. The night Sarad Nukpana—with his mother as the power behind the throne—came close to wresting the goblin kingdom from its rightful heirs. She saw that I used black magic to summon a demon, but it was the only way I had to stop Sarad Nukpana from fulfilling what he—and his mother—saw as his destiny. Maralah did not stop there. She continued to our reason for being here—to thwart Sandrina’s plot to seize the power denied her by allying herself with the Sythsaurians and taking the Heart, and after that the Seven Kingdoms.

  She released me and I staggered with the suddenness of it.

  A guard behind me grabbed my arm, keeping me on my feet.

  “Thank you,” I told him when I could speak.

  I had no concept of the time that had passed; but from past experience, I knew it to have been less than a minute.

  Sandrina Ghalfari’s expression was carefully neutral, but I knew better. In the time Maralah had come down from her throne and had linked her mind with mine, Sandrina had come up with a plan.

  “Your Highness,” I said, without taking my eyes from Sandrina. “You might want to reconsider linking with her. It would be dangerous for you.”

  Sandrina smiled. “Have you filled Her Highness’s head with more lies, Tamnais?”

  “There are no lies in mind links, Sandrina. Only the truth.”

  “As you remember it. As I said, Your Highness, Tamnais was bonded with the Saghred. His memories cannot be trusted.”

  “I will leave it up to Princess Maralah to determine who is trustworthy.”

  The princess crossed the floor to where Sandrina waited, her pale eyes glimmering with a metallic tint. “I do not need to touch you to know the truth of your words. Your eyes are the window to your soul. They will show me all I need to know.”

  It was over in an instant.

  Sandrina’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor, the guard behind her not quite fast enough to catch her.

  I don’t think he tried very hard.

  “Return Lady Ghalfari to the prison level,” she told the guard. “See to it that she is given a cell separate from her companions—in keeping with her station. Advisor Karnia?”

  He bowed stiffly, his displeasure evident. “Your Highness?”

  “I no longer require your presence. I am quite safe with Chancellor Nathrach. You are dismissed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

&nbs
p; Princess Maralah kept her back to me until Karnia was gone, and Sandrina had been escorted out with no less than a dozen armed guards.

  The princess turned to me, her pale eyes sparkling. “I have discovered that plots are difficult to hatch when the head of the serpent is separated from the body.”

  I assumed she was referring to Sandrina, not Karnia, but I wasn’t going to ask. I smiled and bowed. “You are as wise as your royal mother, Your Highness.”

  “I have survived the centuries by being nothing less, Chancellor Nathrach.” She gestured to one of the four remaining guards, who quickly unlocked my manacles.

  I wanted to rub my wrists, but refrained from doing so. The Cha’Nidaar princess had just imprisoned my enemy and freed me. I wasn’t about to be rude and imply I had suffered any kind of ill treatment.

  Maralah noticed. “My apologies for any discomfort or indignity suffered by either yourself or your companions.”

  “Do not concern yourself, Your Highness. We understand completely.”

  She reached into her robes and brought out Kansbar’s ring. She gave it to me. “I believe this is yours.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness, but it is mine only by discovery. Your mother gave it to my ancestor, Kansbar Nathrach.”

  “I know.” She smiled, a woman with a secret to tell. “I was there when she gave it to him.” She drew out the necklace with its Heartstone pendant. “And this belongs to you as well, though I believe you entrusted it to the gem mage in your company.”

  I accepted the necklace with a small bow. “I have, Your Highness. If you do not mind me asking, how are you able to speak our language? When we were captured, I could barely understand the officer in charge. But when Advisor Karnia brought me from my cell, he spoke to me in modern Goblin.”

  “We learned much from the visit of your ancestor and even the Khrynsani. We recorded the words of Kansbar and the Khrynsani when they were in Nidaar all those years ago, studied it, and learned the language.” She smiled. “The better to know our occasional adversaries—or new friends, in the case of you and your companions. Many large problems are caused by small miscommunications.” She paused for a beat. “Speaking of the benefits of honest communication, what are your plans now that we have the Khrynsani serpents behind bars?”

  “Excuse me, Your—”

  “Your plans, Chancellor Nathrach. You came here to secure the Heart from the Khrynsani and the Sythsaurians, who have disappeared.”

  “Sandrina and those with her were but one group of Khrynsani and Sythsaurians. We have encountered others.”

  “And what was the fate of these others?”

  “We dispatched a few, but the majority were killed by the beasts we have found in the tunnels.”

  “Ah, the dakkonan. An annoyance, but they do serve their purpose in protecting our borders.”

  “Kansbar told of giant centipedes, but made no mention of—”

  “The dakkonan were not here when he was. The earthquake caused by the Khrynsani awakening the Heart opened the deepest reaches of our caves, releasing the dakkonan from where they lived. Some of our people think it is Hell. Some days, I’m inclined to agree. The dakkonan ate what few animals survived the quakes.”

  “Then what do they eat now?”

  “The occasional trespassing Khrynsani, and other creatures that were released along with them.”

  “There’s more out there?”

  “Oh yes, and in some ways worse than the dakkonan.”

  “Then we’re grateful that we haven’t met them.” I paused uneasily. “Your Highness, your mother told me of the Sythsaurians’ intent for our world. The Heart is a great source of power for them, one they will not easily abandon. I’ve never seen or heard of the type of magic they use. They vanished in an instant. Do you have wards that can keep them from reappearing in your city—or palace—just as easily?”

  “We have the means to know when they appear, which is how we knew that you and your companions were under attack. Unfortunately, we do not have the ability to restrict their movements. My people have encountered the Sythsaurians before. We believe they use a sort of portal that is only occasionally aligned with our world.” The princess indicated the weapons slung across her guards’ shoulders. “We acquired a few of their weapons, and have duplicated them with a few of our own modifications.”

  “I’ve seen them fired. They are most … efficient.”

  “That they are, Chancellor Nathrach. So you see, we are far from helpless.”

  “I did not intend to suggest that you were, Your Highness. We are concerned that the Khrynsani have told the Sythsaurians our weaknesses. Considering how advanced they are, our weaknesses are considerable. We do not wish to be conquered and enslaved, or slaughtered.”

  “The Sythsaurians are capable of doing that with or without the Heart.”

  “I believe that. But if they do defeat us, and leave a force here with the Khrynsani to rule, the peoples of the Seven Kingdoms will wish they were dead.” I realized something and barked a laugh.

  “What is so amusing?”

  “We came here to help your people, if they still existed. And here I am, asking for your assistance.”

  “Do not discount yourselves or your abilities, Chancellor Nathrach. What the Sythsaurians have—and we have appropriated from them—is no greater than your magic, merely different.” She smiled, again a woman with a secret. “Have no doubt, we will prevail. We always have. Our resistance began when we left Rheskilia for this land. Did you know that the Khrynsani was once an academic order, studying and learning how the forces of magic worked?”

  I nodded once. “I did. Learning wasn’t enough. It never is.”

  “Members of the order began delving into the darker magics to increase their strength and gain new abilities. They did not care where that power came from. Some began consorting with demons and other dark forces. Others sought objects with which to augment their magical arsenals. I say arsenals, because that was their goal, to become living, breathing weapons. Kaali Nidaar, my grandmother, was an explorer at heart and had found ancient scrolls that described a stone of fire, a source of power that never died. The leader of the Khrynsani order at that time demanded that all research and knowledge be turned over to him. He said it was for the greater good of the order, that all knowledge should be shared. Some did as told, bringing their research before the Khrynsani council, giving it freely to benefit all. These men and women entered the high council’s chamber and were never seen again.”

  “I had heard that in its beginnings, the Khrynsani had included women as members,” I said. “As they became more militaristic—and paranoid, ruthless, and quite frankly, insane—women were excluded from membership.”

  Maralah smiled, genuine and warm. “Women like my grandmother probably washed their hands of the lot of them. She told her family, students, and those of similar mind that some powers were too great to fall into anyone’s hands, and set sail for Aquas to find the Heart, and to secure it from the Khrynsani or anyone like them. We believe what happened to our east coast is but a fraction of what the Heart is capable of.”

  I watched her face closely. “Your mother warned me to stay away. Do you know why?”

  “Perhaps. Our people were once as you are now: silver skin, dark hair, dark eyes. Exposure to the Heart has changed us. When we arrived and found the Heart and the crystals, we sensed their power and used it to light our city. We saw the physical changes that began to happen to us, but accompanied as they were by increases in magical power, intellectual ability, and even physical strength, we dismissed any thought that this could possibly be dangerous.”

  We had been inside the geode for less than an hour and our skin had become luminescent, our powers increased.

  If the Khrynsani took control of the Heart …

  “Exposure also affected our judgment as to how it could possibly be bad.”

  “It sounds like black magic,” I noted.

  Maralah nodded once. “Th
e temptations and false confidence are the same.”

  I knew firsthand how seductive contact with stones of power could be. The Heart might not devour souls, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t enslave just like black magic.

  Jash, Elsu, Mal, and Das were all recovering black magic addicts.

  Talon was my son.

  We were all vulnerable.

  Resistance involved more than control of your magic—you had to control yourself. You had to keep your emotions in check, not letting any use of your magic arise from a desire to do harm to another. To lose control of your emotions was to lose control of yourself. It became a downward spiral from there. It would turn you, taking you one piece at a time, feeding on all in you that is good, eating away at it until there is nothing left.

  “After a few years in Nidaar,” the princess was saying, “we began to notice that we did not age, and that the wombs of women of childbearing age no longer quickened with life. My mother dispatched a small colony to the surface to see if distance from the Heart’s influence would restore the semblance of a normal life to us. There was no change, regardless of how far the abroad the colony traveled. After three years, they returned to us unchanged.

  “There are not as many of my people as there used to be.” Maralah went silent for a time, and I sensed strong emotions warring inside her. “People say that they would like to live forever, to never grow old, never die. Those people do not know what they ask for. I have lived nearly eleven hundred years, Chancellor Nathrach. While it is not yet forever, it is a very long time. The Cha’Nidaar become fewer in number with every passing year as my people take their own lives.” Her shoulders sagged slightly as if accepting a heavier burden. “Long ago, I was angry at them for their weakness. Now I almost admire their strength.”

  This woman had met me less than an hour ago, and was baring her soul. Though it was true she had just witnessed my entire life through my memories. Very few knew me as Maralah of the Cha’Nidaar now did.