Light the Reign (The Forgotten: Book 3)

by Cole, Laura R

  “If we were to find a way to do it, would you be willing to give us the stone?” Katya asked.

  The woman smiled at her thinly. “We would, but it appears there is no such way. It would be a waste of your time. Might you be able to collect the other stones and bring them here, or use a stone infused with our stone’s essence instead?”

  The Dena’ina leader shook his head. “The spell is too powerful, it would need to be all of them, and most likely it would need to be done nearer to the child than here. We will simply have to find a way to make your village safe without the powerstone.”

  Others were gathering around them, pouring out of the village, as news of their arrival spread. It would appear that the Dakelh did not get many visitors. Several children gawked and pointed to Petra, but their parents quickly shushed them and batted away their pointing fingers.

  Petra admirably stood tall, pretending not to notice the stares.

  Their group moved into a hut to discuss their options. As one idea after another was shot down, Katya grew frustrated. What they really needed was a way to emulate the barrier spell. She knew that Gryffon and Layna had imitated it for the dome around the city, but they had used the ideas of the spell itself, not the concept of how it had been constructed to last forever. Then a new idea hit her, and she quickly rummaged around in her bag for her mirror.

  Layna answered the call, and Katya quickly explained what she wanted. Katya waited while the image in the mirror blurred as Layna went to find Gryffon. A few moments later, he appeared, holding the baby Phoenix.

  “Hello, Katya,” he smiled to her, “What is it that I can do for you?”

  “I need to access the memories of Adrastea, the dragon-god you hosted who helped to create the barrier between Gelendan and Treymayne so that we can use the knowledge to create a similar spell here.”

  He look shocked, obviously Layna had simply put him on, rather than take the time to explain the need. “I’m not sure it works like that…” he started doubtfully, but she cut him off.

  “At one point your mind held those memories,” she insisted, knowing that the dragon-god had hopped from host to host, including one who helped erect the barrier, to the healer Mila who had helped Layna and Gryffon escape the evil Jezebel, to the dog Weylyn as a interim host, to Aileen, and then briefly into Gryffon when Aileen had been murdered before she left this world. The last remnants of her knowledge on this plane only existed in Gryffon. Or in Weylyn, Katya fleetingly thought, but any memories the dog contained were unlikely to be in any form that she could understand. She continued to Gryffon, “My father helped me to uncover my lost childhood memories through magical techniques. I can use these same techniques on you to try and locate the knowledge.”

  Gryffon smoothed out Phoenix’s hair where it had stuck to the tiny stubble on his chin and caused it to stick up. “You are welcome to try,” he offered, but didn’t sound overly hopeful. “Are you able to do it through the mirror like this?”

  “I think so,” she answered, deliberating, then finally nodded firmly. “Yes.”

  “What would you like me to do?” he asked, sitting down cross-legged before her view, and setting Phoenix in his lap.

  “You’ll just need to close your eyes and relax,” she told him, “and let your mind clear. I will then enter your mind with you.”

  Gryffon’s eyes snapped back open and he looked at her with a twinge of concern. She understood completely. As much as you might trust someone, opening your mind to them was another matter.

  “I won’t actually be able to see anything, except maybe tiny glimpses,” she assured him, “I will just be there to guide you to the deepest depths of your memories that you couldn’t normally go on your own. You will be the one who will need to actually grasp upon the memory to obtain its knowledge.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes again, settling Phoenix into a comfortable position. Katya closed hers as well, concentrating on his presence through the mirror. She felt a part of her detach from the rest, floating over the mirror connection to bond with Gryffon’s aura. She felt the surface thoughts, not able to tell what he was thinking, but able to detect vague emotions of worry, stress, and love – the last must be from holding his daughter. Katya hoped she could feel that someday. She shook the thought aside.

  She carefully guided his conscious mind deeper into his subconscious as Gareth had done with her. As always, the memory of her father was painful, but less so in that she was able to keep him alive in her heart by utilizing what she had learned with him to help someone else.

  She searched for anomalies in his memories. Bearing the memories of generations of hosts that that dragon-god had used before him must be an unusual experience, and it was bound to make an impression that she could sense. Sure enough, she soon came across a huge roiling ball of thoughts, memories, and emotions hiding behind a thick wall in his mind. She hesitated before sneaking around it. No doubt it had been erected as a barrier so that his own thoughts and mind were not overtaken by the past hosts. She didn’t want to permanently disable this protection, only temporarily find a way past it.

  She felt Gryffon’s presence with her and knew that he must be able to feel her hesitation. He nudged her with his mind gently, prodding her to bring them past the wall. She did so carefully, finding a tiny crack and slipping through, pulling Gryffon’s essence along behind her. She felt the shock of the memories hitting him, it took a moment for his presence to reorient itself. Once it did, she waited while he shifted through them all to find what they were looking for. As she had promised him, she could not actually see any of his memories herself, but she could tell when he found it.

  His elation was clear, and she quickly led the way back out, not wanting to spend any more time in the roiling memories for fear that they would become caught up in them. She broke contact with him and opened her eyes, peering anxiously across the connection. He took substantially longer to come back to reality, giving her a moment’s worry. She bit her lip, waiting.

  Finally, he cracked them open, looking as though he were opening for the first time in the morning, squinting and blinking in the light and wiping them with the palms of his hands.

  “Did you find it?” she asked excitedly, knowing already from his emotions that he had, but wanting to hear it out loud.

  “I did,” he nodded, “and I think that you might be able to adapt it to your needs. But…” he paused, looking thoughtful.

  “What?” she asked impatiently.

  “There is the problem of working with the chaotic magic. You could cleanse the area as you have been doing, but this would only allow a small area of magic to be diverted to the spell, and it leaves open the possibility of reverting back to its natural course if, say, the energies around it shifted enough to bring the area with it.”

  “Is there another option?”

  “I think so,” he said slowly, processing the information. “I think you would have to alter your cleansing method so that you actually create the rivers of power over large areas, essentially taming the chaos for your needs.”

  “We can do that?” she asked doubtfully. Even just the small cleansing had been difficult. Would they really be able to tame the wild magic to their own purposes?

  “It will take a great deal of power and effort over a large area. Might you be able to enlist the aid of the tribes you have visited so far? Would they be willing to help?”

  Katya thought about it. “I think the Myaamia would, although they are a little disorganized at the moment since the betrayal of Kali was made public, the Dena’ina seem helpful, though we haven’t gotten the stone from them yet. I’m not sure about the Kanza, they didn’t particularly give us a warm welcome, though they did follow through with their bargain of giving us the stone when we produced the plant they were looking for…” she trailed off.

  “It might be enough. I can describe the spell to you, and it will be up to you I’m afraid to make it work. Not only are Layna and I here, but we also don’t cur
rently have any talent to speak of while taking the chokeroot.”

  The comment reminded Katya what she was doing this for. Yes, in the end it would be her and Hunter, the two most important people in her world, that would be affected, but it would also be a lot of others. Specifically, right at this very moment, her two friends and their baby were threatened with this horrible curse. She set her jaw in a hard line.

  “We can do it,” she said, and paid close attention while he gave her the details from his memories that would allow them to hopefully set up a barrier spell feeding off the tamed chaos around them.

  When they cut contact, Katya glanced around her, at nothing physical in particular, but at all the magic swirling around in seemingly random currents. Would they really be able to tame that?

  CHAPTER 9

  Layna pulled the hood of the cloak tightly around her, angling her head away from the guards and she and Gryffon swept past. She could feel eyes on her back, watching them with suspicion as they hurried through the courtyard and out through the side gates.

  Gryffon tugged on her hand and pulled her into an alleyway, blending into the shadows with their black cloaks. He held a finger to his lips and she nodded, staying silent and still. Moments later one of the guards strolled out of the archway after them, looking up and down the street, obviously searching for something. He stood there a minute, glaring into the shadows of the shops and alleyways.

  Just as Layna’s foot started to go numb from the pressure she was putting on it to stay in her awkward position plastered against the wall, the man grumbled something unintelligible and turned back to the palace. As his footsteps echoed into the distance, Layna poked her head out from their hiding spot and scanned the streets.

  They were empty. Odd for this time of night. She glanced over her shoulder and waved Gryffon forward and the two of them stepped out into the moonlight. It wasn’t a bright night, though the moon was in its full cycle, the sky was covered by clouds. They could see well enough with the dim light that did shine down on them combined with the oil street lamps that the watch lit every night.

  Keeping to the edges of the streets, they trotted along towards the less-desirable end of the city, eyes darting this way and that. Many of the people had fled the confines of the city itself, hiding in the forests and smaller hamlets around it. Though none could leave the protective bubble, they felt safer away from the congestion of people in the city itself. Layna could hardly blame them, when your friends and neighbors could suddenly turn into blood-thirsty creatures. She had been feeling rather claustrophobic in the palace herself.

  They rounded a bend and Layna bit back the gasp that threatened to escape as a dark shape loomed before them. It shuffled through the streets uncertainly, as though it had forgotten where it was going. A rat scurried along the curb of the cobblestones, letting out a short squeak of alarm as it noticed the person.

  The noise alerted the shape to its presence. It tensed, and Layna watched in horror as it moved way more quickly than she would have guessed from its previous motion, its hands darting out to grab at the rat. It missed it, but just barely, and it fell to its knees, clawing at the hole the vermin had squeezed itself into to escape.

  The sounds coming from the throat were utterly inhuman. It spit and growled in guttural tones, punctuated by frustrated squeals. The sickly sweet scent of death and the acrid stench of unwashed flesh filled her nostrils, even from across the street. Layna shifted her weight slightly and froze as her foot kicked a pebble which rolled down the street with a quiet clink, clink, clink.

  The thing stopped its clawing immediately, swinging its head around to look in the direction of the sound. Directly at her and Gryffon. She sucked in her breath as the bright red eyes met hers. Even in the dim light she could see that they had completely filled with blood. This person was already dead.

  The mages they had studying the disease had determined that it spread from person to person by magic if both people showed talent because their power auras would automatically mix from close proximity. Those without talent needed closer contact with it: physical touch, mixing bodily fluids, or breathing in the cough of one of the infected. Though Layna was still holding out hope for a cure, they had discovered that once it got to the point where the person’s eyes filled with blood, there would be no going back. Even if the body was healed completely, the mind was already gone.

  She drew her sword, Leoht, and heard the metallic whine of Gryffon’s being pulled from its scabbard as well. The creature wasted no time, lunging at them with single-minded purpose. It angled towards her, whether because she had been where the noise had originated or because she looked like an easier target she didn’t know. But it was hardly relevant. She held her blade out in front of her and stood her ground.

  The creature was growling again and Layna desperately tried to ignore the sound, and block out the image in her head of what the person might have looked like before turning into this grotesque monster before her. As it neared, she swiftly moved the sword while stepping sideways, slashing at its middle.

  It let out a howl as the blade slid through its oozing flesh, covering her sword with a mixture of blood and yellowish-green pus. She fought the urge to vomit as warm liquid dripped onto her hand. It swung around and came at her again. She held firm, waiting for it to come at her, but it was cut short, impaled on a blade from behind.

  It fell to its knees in a gurgling groan, revealing Gryffon behind it, pulling his sword from the creature’s abdomen. He took out a smaller knife and quickly drew it across the exposed throat, quickening its death and putting a stop to its agonized writhing. When it had quieted and stilled, Gryffon wiped both blades on the thing’s tattered clothing and re-sheathed them.

  “What should we do with the body?” he asked, looking around. Despite the commotion, not one window had cracked open and no one had come to investigate. By now, everyone was too scared to go outside at night and had barricaded themselves in their homes.

  “We’ll have to leave it for the watch in the morning,” she answered regretfully, “but let’s cover it with something; it was a person…I don’t want its wife or children to find it like this.”

  Gryffon nodded and they looked around for a good spot to stash the corpse until the morning watch could gather it up. They had been collecting the bodies of those who had been too far infected and had either died of the disease or been killed by those they attacked. There were an alarming number of healthy bodies turning up as well, and it was hard to distinguish which of these were results of the monsters and which were murders that were being covered up by the unfortunate situation.

  Either way, it disgusted Layna. It also cemented her reasoning of why she and Gryffon needed to be out here. The chokeroot prevented them from using magic to find out what was going on in the city, and they weren’t entirely sure of the accuracy of the watch’s information. It would be far too easy to bribe one of them to overlook a body that was uninfected and obviously not attacked by one of the creatures. Those who had been murdered should be easy to recognize – they would still be intact – while the bloodthirsty nature of the Bricrui left little to identify when they killed.

  They dragged it into an alleyway and covered him lightly with hay, not enough that it would be missed by the searchers, but enough that it wouldn’t draw attention and traumatize its loved ones. Some of the saddest cases had been when families had sheltered their infected family member, only to have become locked inside with it when it reached the point when it lost all its humanity.

  Once it was safely tucked away, they continued down the main street to where they had been getting some strange reports. The watchers in this area said that the number of the Bricrui was much higher here; while there had only been a handful of deaths a day in each of the other districts, this one seemed to have an outpouring of them. Furthermore, the bodies had all been torn apart, not stopped by the swords of the healthy or unmarred by anything but the blight having finally taken its toll.


  She and Gryffon had wondered if perhaps they didn’t have some kind of sadistic murderer in the district, taking out his sick pleasures on the Bricrui whose bodies would be taken without question by the watch. But the type of person capable of the carnage upon those bodies was ruthless, and when he or she decided that just the Bricrui wasn’t enough and started to turn their attentions towards regular humans…

  They searched the back alleys of the district for some time, but came up empty-handed. Not even a Bricrui on the street. As daylight started streaming through the cracks in the buildings, they made their way back to the palace. They sneaked around to the stables, carefully looking around to make sure they were unobserved before pulling open a trapdoor in the end stall and jumping in. The entrance that Sir Ruawn had shown them outside the palace gates near the gardens had not been the only one, and they had taken full advantage of this new spot.

  They landed with two soft thuds and stood from the crouching position they had held while searching the dark room for signs of life. Though they were careful never to be seen entering the secret entrance, it was no guarantee that someone else wouldn’t find it, and they did not want to be caught up in an ambush. Layna felt naked without her power and was keenly aware of how much more vulnerable they were in this state.

  They padded down the long stone corridors until they came to the section which branched off towards the palace. The underground tunnels ran to several parts of the city, though who they had originally been made by remained a mystery.

  Gryffon reached up and poked in a rough patch of stone. It grinded against the stones around it as it slid backwards. A large section of the wall in front of them glided sideways on unseen rails and they entered the new passageway, the door sliding shut behind them.

  Here the walls were lined with torches and they soon came to a large room where several restraining hands were laid on them.

  “Halt,” commanded a voice.