The Lore Of The Evermen (Book 4)

by James Maxwell

  “You might be able to fool others, Ella, but you can’t fool me,” Rogan said. “What’s wrong?”

  Ella stood and made to leave the room. “I’m going to go and do what I can . . .”

  “Tell me,” Rogan said, taking hold of her shoulders. “You asked Alise for essence. What do you intend? Is it something to do with being unwell? Shani thinks you’re hiding something. She told me there was a terrible sickness moving through the Akari necromancers.”

  Ella looked up at Rogan; he was as tall as Miro and loomed over her. “I have to do something. I have a greater chance of success working alone,” she said.

  “Do what?” Rogan demanded. He didn’t let go of her shoulders. Ella could have sent a shock through her dress to burn his hands, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

  Ella met his gaze. “We’ve all seen it. There’s a cargo ship Sentar is protecting. It’s undoubtedly where he has the essence he needs to open the portal. We need to sink that ship.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “With every bit of skill I possess,” Ella said simply.

  “Alone? Ella, what will I tell your brother if you fail? Which you will.”

  “I have to try,” Ella said. “I’ve been watching the Sentinel. He’s already uncovered the top of the statue. I have to destroy his essence.”

  “I can’t let you do it,” Rogan said.

  “Rogan,” Ella hesitated briefly, but she decided to tell him. “I’m dying.”

  “What?” Rogan gasped. His hands fell from her shoulders.

  “I’m dying. Shani was right. I’ve been . . . tainted. I saw what it does. Already it’s a struggle to stand straight and speak to you. In a few days,” Ella said, “I’ll be dead.”

  “You don’t know that . . .”

  “I know! I’m no fool. I’m not lying to you.”

  Rogan circled the room and sat heavily on the bed. “Who else knows?”

  “No one. And I want it to stay that way.”

  “What do you propose to do?”

  “I’m going to sink that ship.”

  “There could be a cure . . .”

  “There’s no cure,” Ella said. “Or if there is, Sentar Scythran is the only one who knows of it. We don’t understand essence. None of us do—not the templars and not the loremasters. No one can fix this.”

  “You never know—”

  “I’m going to do this. You can’t stop me.”

  Rogan nodded, his mouth moving without speaking, and Ella was surprised to see tears at the corners of his eyes.

  “Do you want to see Shani? She’s helping out on the Wall, along with the other elementalists.”

  “No,” Ella said. “She’s needed there. Please don’t tell her.”

  Rogan nodded, and for a time there was silence.

  “May the Lord of the Sky go with you,” he finally said.

  “Thank you,” Ella said. “He will.”

  Ella was fully aware that with every passing moment more of the wall around the Sentinel was being destroyed, more of the statue revealed; yet she also knew that she stood a much greater chance of success in the night.

  She spent the day alone in her rooms, creating the lore she would need for when darkness came.

  In the early afternoon there was a soft knock at her door, and when she opened it Ella found a paper packet on the threshold. Opening the packet Ella found willow bark, sable root, and blue pine powder. Even as she looked down at the sedatives—no doubt from Rogan—pain trembled its way through Ella’s body, but she couldn’t afford to have her reflexes slowed, not now.

  It was a sweet gesture, but Ella put the medicinal herbs to the side. Instead, she fought the pain, her forehead creased in concentration as she spent the day renewing her wand and working on the items she would need, lore she’d never tried before.

  When she was done, Ella examined her work.

  She held her two silver slippers in her hands, items that would help her when night came. Ella ran her eyes over the symbols she’d drawn throughout the day, checking the matrices, the activation rune, the whorls and bridges. She turned the slippers over to check the soles, muttering to herself as she rehearsed her plan in her mind.

  She’d never tried anything like this before, but she’d never been this desperate.

  Ella put the slippers on her feet and took a shaky breath as she looked at the vial of essence Lady Alise had procured for her, essence that smelled the way it should. Her set of scrills sat in a row beside the vial, and next to the scrills were her protective gloves. She could always do more, but Ella couldn’t wait. Every passing moment sent more pain wracking her body and revealed more of the Sentinel to the world.

  She didn’t plan to throw her life away, and she would do her utmost to escape unscathed, but at least her illness gave her the courage and determination to see the task through.

  Looking out the small window, Ella saw that it was night.

  She left the palace before her courage deserted her.

  The staccato thumps of the cannon resounded like rumbles of thunder, rolling into the city from the harbor. Wearing her hooded enchantress’s dress and silver slippers, Ella quietly exited the Imperial Palace, careful to stay out of the way of the officials dashing to and fro. She passed through the great hall and out of the main entrance, the guards nodding and making way for her as she exited through the barred iron gates.

  Ella walked through Imperial Square as clouds flitted overhead, dark storm clouds that echoed the mood in the city.

  As she headed down to the harbor, it began to rain.

  Ella lifted the hood over her head and heard the patter of droplets on the streets, soon sounding in splashes as the rain formed puddles. Ella thanked the heavens, feeling determination in every fiber of her being. The rain was a blessing, for together with the darkness it would help hide her from her enemies.

  Reaching the docks, Ella saw soldiers and civilians alike clustered around the wharves, taverns, and shipyards. To a man they stared out at the harbor, huddled under the eaves of the buildings as they flinched with every boom of the cannon. Flashes of light flickered again and again. A gush of bright energy lit up the far side of the harbor, followed by a shattering crash. In the sudden glow, Ella saw the statue revealed along with the wreckage of stone blocks falling outward.

  She hoped Sentar would use all of his power to destroy the wall. She hoped he would be distracted enough for her plan to work.

  Ella walked as far along a pier as she could, until she stood at the water’s edge. The heavy rain bounced off her, splashing into the waters of the harbor with a steady tinkle. The plumes of flame at the mouths of the warships’ cannon regularly lit up her destination.

  For what she planned, conditions were perfect.

  Ella looked down at her feet. She called out an activation sequence. “Arias-lutanas!”

  The silver slippers flared up, a fiery glow traveling from each symbol to the next faster than the eye could follow. The runes shone with blue and green, so bright it hurt Ella’s eyes to look at them, and even against the falling rain, the shine would be visible at Ella’s destination.

  “Arias-lutanari!”

  The next sequence dimmed the runes, sending the light into itself, until the slippers only glowed softly green-silver, like phosphorescence glistening on the waves of the open sea.

  Ella took a deep breath, feeling her heart race. She prayed her plan would work. She’d performed some successful tests in the washbasin. The sea should be the same, shouldn’t it?

  Ella sat down on the pier, her legs dangling, and raised her left foot out over the water. She placed her foot onto the glistening surface.

  Her left leg wobbled as the cushion of air under the slipper slid on the water. Still sitting on the pier, and realizing there was only one way to find out if she’d been successful, Ella placed the other foot onto the water. She pushed down tentatively with her right leg, noting with some relief that the platform of
air was evidently big enough to support her weight.

  Ella pushed off the dock, and then she was standing on the water.

  She nearly lost her balance and fought the urge to sit back on the pier. Seeing the destruction of the wall around the Sentinel brought home the urgency of her task, and when she considered her fear, combined with her pain, she knew that to back down now would be to fail.

  Ella lifted her left leg and took a step forward. She took a second step, and she realized that it was easier to maintain her balance if she kept moving. Ella then made a dozen steps, resisting the urge to look back until she’d walked far enough over the water that she knew she wouldn’t turn back, and then she glanced over her shoulder.

  Onlookers stood on the pier, watching her in amazement, completely ignoring the rain. A man raised a hand in front of him, as if in greeting or farewell, and the others followed suit.

  Ella turned her attention back to her destination, and then she began to think about her dress.

  It was a dark night, and the rain helped, but the green silk would still shine in any light, particularly when Ella drew close to the flickering destruction in the area around the Sentinel.

  Ella started to chant, pouring all of her concentration into the constant hum of activation sequences she’d built into her enchantress’s dress. She didn’t concern herself with protection or heat. Ella wanted to become invisible.

  She wore black gloves on her hands and had pulled her hood to hang low over her face. Each step took her closer to the flashes of fire, and she now saw the scattering sparks as the lore of the builders fought both the force of black powder and the energetic onslaught of the Lord of the Night’s power.

  Ella glanced down at her sleeves as she walked across the water, developing a comfortable rhythm of splashing steps and chanted runes. She was satisfied; she could see through the sleeves to the dark water below.

  Real thunder sounded overhead, barely able to be heard over the shattering sounds of energy unleashed, and the rain picked up strength. Ella now felt each tap against her back with force, feeling her shoulders bow down under the weight of rain and the agony of pain in her body. But she was grateful for the storm, for it hid the imprints of her footsteps in the water. A clear night would have meant discovery.

  The hulking vessels grew larger with each step, and Ella’s blood pounded in her ears with a steady staccato. The words came from her lips between gasps as her stomach clenched, this time with excruciating force, but she couldn’t stop her chant or she would be seen. Ella thought about the bodies of the sailors washed up to the docks. She remembered Evrin’s battle against Sentar Scythran. She again saw the devastation of Shar.

  She filled her mind with these thoughts; they were all that gave her the strength to go on.

  Ella skirted around a huge Veldrin warship, fear momentarily cutting through her constant chant, but she gathered renewed strength as her training and experience reasserted itself. Black figures scurried on the decks, and the vessel quivered with each broadside of the rows of cannon. As she rounded the ship, Ella saw the crumbling wall around the Sentinel, with bits of stone fragmented all around the perimeter of the island. She looked for Sentar Scythran but couldn’t see him.

  An inner ring of warships clustered around a central vessel. These ships had been left out of the fight, their purpose to instead provide protection to the center of the circle. Ella made each step carefully now, though the slower speed made it harder for her to keep her balance.

  Looking down, she saw that the phosphorescent glow of the symbols on her slippers had dimmed. It was impossible for Ella to know whether her lore would last; she could only hope.

  The figures on these ships didn’t scurry; they stood and watched, peering out at the night. Ella spotted necromancers in gray robes and revenants standing guard. As she passed under the side of a warship, she glanced up and saw the white face of a peering man as he scanned the sea.

  He looked down, and Ella stopped moving, reducing her chant to a whisper.

  The muscles in her legs ached with raw pain; first her left leg and then her right began to tremble.

  If she fell, she would sink. They would see her splash, and she would fail.

  Ella’s left leg gave way as she slipped.

  50

  At the same time that Ella slipped, a greater explosion than any before split the air, filling the air with thunder, and Ella heard a huge crash. The peering necromancer turned to look at the Sentinel, and Ella scrabbled and splashed at the water, finally righting herself.

  Not looking to see whether she’d been spotted, she sped forward, passing under the warship’s prow and beyond before a chill struck her.

  She’d forgotten to continue chanting. She was in the open, able to be seen with the most casual of glances.

  Her heart hammering, Ella looked at the bright green sleeve of her dress in horror. The constant fire and resulting sparks on the walls shone from the glistening silk.

  Ella calmed herself and started again. She forced down the ache in her limbs and the clutching pain in her belly. She fought the fatigue and the pounding headache in her temples that was even now shifting to the front of her head.

  Ella gasped the runes in between breaths of air. She was between the protective circle and the hulk of the cargo ship in the center. She couldn’t stop now; she had to go on.

  She reached the side of the cargo ship, wheezing, but she never stopped her constant chanting, and with a surge of relief, Ella realized she’d made it.

  She tilted her head back, looking up to the ship’s rail, scanning for a way to climb up.

  As she peered up from under her hood, Ella caught the gaze of a pale-skinned man with gray robes and a hooked nose.

  The necromancer’s eyes widened with surprise as their eyes met. He opened his mouth to call out, and Ella’s hand darted into the pocket of her dress.

  She moved faster than she’d ever had to before, pointed her wand, and interspersed a single word into her chant. Ella released a bolt of golden energy into the air, directly into the necromancer’s mouth.

  He cried out and fell forward, tumbling through the air to hit the water with a splash, only a few paces to Ella’s left. Against the roar of the cannon and the shatter of stone, the sound might have been lost, but the attack on the wall around the Sentinel was a mixed blessing, for though it drowned out sound, it provided light.

  Ella didn’t wait to find out.

  She swiftly scanned the side of the cargo ship. Lord of the Sky, it was massive. Ella saw matrices of runes covering the beams on the sides, with not a single part of the surface left bare. The protective symbols gave Ella confidence. Sentar had expended a great deal of precious essence to give this ship the strength to endure cannon fire and the blasts of prismatic orbs.

  She’d come to the right place.

  Starting to wobble, Ella picked up pace once more, skirting the side of the ship as she tried to find a way up. As she sped along the huge vessel, Ella finally spotted a rope hanging down to the water. She ran now, each footstep sinking into the water. She saw that each splash her slipper made sank deeper than the one before it. The power was leaving the runes.

  As she approached the rope, her footsteps were sinking several inches. She had to jump for the thick hemp and grab hold, just as she looked down and saw the runes she’d drawn on the slippers fade altogether.

  Ella didn’t wonder how she’d get back to Seranthia. She was going to die anyway. The important thing was to complete her objective.

  She was forced to abandon her chanting as she climbed the rope, pulling her body up with arms already weak. She groaned in agony, each exertion a supreme effort of will. The next moments passed in a blur as she reduced her concentration to this one task. She forgot about the fact that she would be visible once more, and about her own danger, even her fear.

  Ella had to make it on board Sentar Scythran’s cargo ship.

  She finally clutched onto the rail, grabbing hold with
her other arm now, and threw her body over the edge to tumble down onto the deck.

  Something heavy and metallic smashed down onto her enchantress’s dress, sending a fountain of sparks flying in all directions. Ella rolled onto her back and looked up into the white-eyed stare of a revenant. He was a tall barbarian, holding a double-bladed axe, with a horned helmet and ragged furs on his torso.

  “Sahn!” Ella called forth a bolt of energy from her wand. Her aim was awkward, but the yellow beam of light tore a head-sized hole in the revenant’s chest. The creature moaned and then fell.

  Ella climbed to her feet and once more activated her dress’s shadow ability, chanting as she scanned the decks, looking for a hatch—anything that would lead her down into the vessel’s belly.

  She heard shouts and cries but ignored them, ignoring even the shadowed figures dotting the deck as she spotted a closed hatch.

  Ella sped to the hatch and yanked it hard.

  It was locked.

  She raised her wand and the metal lock vanished in a glow of fierce yellow light. Ella heaved again, and the hatch burst open. She threw herself down the opening, grabbing hold of the ladder at the last instant and narrowly avoiding a broken leg as she fell sprawling onto the deck below.

  Essence. Ella had to find the essence.

  There were barrels everywhere, all sealed tight with a metal clasp. Ella fumbled at a latch and opened the top of a barrel.

  Black liquid greeted her. She sniffed, and it was odorless, the way essence was supposed to smell.

  Ella reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the destructive cube. She hesitated. The cargo ship was huge, and she had to be sure of success.

  Ella left the barrels and found another hatchway leading down into the bowels of the cargo ship. As she descended she saw more barrels, stuffed into every crevice and filling every compartment.

  Deeper. She still needed to be deeper. Gasping and panting, she ran along the corridors, heedless of the shouts she heard back the way she’d come, forced to sacrifice the shadow ability of her dress as her breath ran ragged.