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Halls of Power (Ancient Dreams Book 3)

Page 28

by Benjamin Medrano


  “Hello, Fate, it’s nice to see you, too,” the goddess replied idly, and Desa staggered backward a step, her eyes going wide at the identity of the silver-haired man. “Now, what are you talking about? I haven’t interfered in my destiny in the slightest.”

  “Your actions have caused a ripple of changes through the tapestry of fate, all the way to the end of time itself! I watched the tapestry reweave itself!” Fate retorted angrily, then gestured at Desa and Alissa. “As for those two, you’ve directly interfered in their lives! That’s against divine law, Emonael!”

  “No, I didn’t. Yes, I caused the tapestry to reweave itself… but that’s because I took actions to ensure that our universe lasts as long as possible. However, if you looked more closely, you would have noticed that my fate hasn’t changed at all. It’s forbidden for gods to affect their own fate, not that of the universe as a whole,” Emonael corrected him, smiling as she added, “Besides… I made a bargain with these two. They could have refused, but they chose to accept my offer. Thus, I didn’t affect their destiny, they chose to change their destinies. That’s allowed, Fate. Go ahead, call a conclave of the primal gods. I followed the rules, though I may have bent their intent into a pretzel.”

  “You little…” Fate began, only for Emonael to interrupt.

  “Check, Fate. I guarantee you, I’ve followed the rules with precision,” the goddess told him, her voice sharp.

  “Fine,” Fate growled, and his eyes grew distant as he paused.

  Desa slowly inched her way around to Rissia, who was staring as well, and asked softly, “Umm, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t entirely understand, but from what I can tell, Emonael has been manipulating things such that they’re changing the future, and Fate’s upset about it. If she has, that’s far more daring than I believed even she would be,” the succubus replied softly, reaching up to adjust her spectacles nervously. “I didn’t realize she was playing such a dangerous game.”

  “This isn’t a game, Rissia. Not with the stakes being what they are. I refuse to allow things to turn out the way they were going to end up,” Emonael interjected, looking at them and smiling. “Certainly, it doesn’t affect my destiny in the slightest, but I’d rather not have things come to an end any sooner than they have to.”

  “What do you mean, come to an end?” Alissa asked, her eyes wide.

  “Why… our universe, Alissa. All things come to an end, and however indirectly, Irethiel was working on shortening its life,” Emonael explained with a shrug. “I honestly couldn’t care less about your life or Desa’s. I rather care about the place where I live, however.”

  “Oh, you psychotic, demonic witch!” Fate’s gaze snapped back into focus as he scowled at Emonael. “You knew that nothing you did would affect your own destiny, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. Why else would I have dared to act like I have?” the goddess replied with a smile.

  With a growl and glare, Fate cut a hole between space and stepped back through, leaving them alone once more. After a few seconds, Rissia asked softly, “Mistress, how did you know that your destiny wouldn’t be changed?”

  Glancing at Desa, the goddess smiled even more, and her voice was pleasant as she answered. “My first rule of thumb is simple. Always have an escape plan. I’ll leave all of you to think on that. Study the book, Desa.”

  With that, Emonael left the room, and Desa was left staring after her, clutching the book tightly.

  Chapter 36

  Wenris poked her head into the library of the Everium Academy curiously and smiled. “Much better. This is actually worth looking through.”

  The last couple of days had been oddly boring for the demon, once she’d gotten over her shock at Sistina’s true identity. That had made everything perfectly clear to her, answering the question of why Her Lady was interfering so much and why the dungeon was so strange in one fell swoop. The problem that had come up was that she didn’t dare use her usual methods of entertainment here, not with so many people aware of what she was, and with the not insignificant chance of upsetting Sistina or her own Lady.

  Even teasing Diane and Jaine eventually grew boring, so she’d turned her attention to the libraries. Proofreading the re-written copies of Marin’s Codex had been one way to while away a day and a half, but the dryad had done an excellent job of translating her research into modern text, which had rendered most of the information relatively normal and boring, especially for someone who’d read the original volumes before. Now, the eighth or ninth volumes would have been a different story, as Emonael kept them private, but Sistina had only finished most of the third volume at this point.

  This library was decently sized, and Wenris breathed in the smell of old books, magic, and elven students happily. A moment later she frowned as she caught a hint of something different. It was the smell of a human, yet it wasn’t as well. The smell was odd, and she slowly circled the shelves, trying to track down the source.

  “You must be the succubus I’ve heard about.” A woman spoke just as Wenris turned the corner, looking up from a book with a humorless gaze. The human had unusual ivory-pale skin, long black hair, and coal-black eyes, but that wasn’t what startled Wenris. It was the scent of the woman, the strange smell of someone caught between life and death. “What are you doing in my Academy?”

  “Ah, I was just bored and thought I would peruse the library since it seemed to be the most promising of those in the city. I am called Wenris, and I must ask, your ?” Wenris paused, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes as she asked, “Also, what are you? You’re obviously not a normal human.”

  “Hah! I am Kassandra Sunseeker, currently the headmaster of the Everium Academy, as I’m the senior surviving teacher,” the woman replied with a laugh, exposing two fangs as she added, “I also would have thought that a succubus would have seen a vampire before.”

  Blinking, Wenris’ eyes narrowed more and she crossed her arms in front of her. “A survivor, hmm? Much is explained, but you most certainly aren’t a vampire. I’ve met them before, and you aren’t one.”

  “Then you must be mistaken. I can’t go out in daylight, else I burst into flames, I drink blood for sustenance, I don’t have a pulse, nor do I age. It seems to me like I fit the qualities of a vampire well,” Kassandra retorted, shelving her book and turning toward Wenris.

  “Perhaps so, but you aren’t quite dead. That’s why you confused my nose,” the succubus replied, her eyes clearing, and she paused before asking, “How did you become a vampire, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not quite dead? I had a stake shoved through my chest until this past winter and I got back up! I haven’t heard of any others who can manage that. Though if you’re right…” Kassandra paused, considering before replying calmly. “I’m not certain, honestly. My mother was cursed by a witch before I was born, that all her children would die by the age of twenty. I keeled over of a heart attack just a few hours before my twentieth birthday, and she committed suicide. That night I woke as a vampire.”

  “Interesting… must be a generation curse of some type. I’ve read about them, but never seen one involving vampirism,” Wenris replied, staring at the woman in fascination. “Do you mind if I ask you some more questions? This is fascinating… at least to me.”

  “Only if you’re willing to tell me about these generation curses. I’ve been trying to cure my vampirism for nearly a century, if you only count the time I’ve spent awake,” the vampire replied, her manner softening.

  “Deal!” Wenris replied with a broad smile. “Let’s find a spot to sit, and we can discuss this properly.”

  They headed for a table, and Wenris felt her tail sway happily at some form of entertainment. She had been so bored.

  “We’re sure this will work?” Lirisel asked nervously, and Ruby looked up at her, smiling at the other priestess as she set down the tiny cage containing the angel.

  “As certain as we can be. There’s no guarantee that we can convince Z
enith that she’s been deceived, but at the very least we should try,” Diamond said softly, carefully examining the spell formation that had been chalked out onto the floor.

  “That wasn’t quite what I meant. I was more meaning the spells here. I don’t want to accidentally release a hostile angel,” Lirisel explained. “I have no issue whatsoever in trying to restore an angel to her right mind.”

  “Although we can’t guarantee that the spells are right, Sistina seemed very confident that they would work,” Amethyst chimed in, smiling in turn. “I’m sure we’ll be fine, as long as no one does something silly, like releasing her.”

  A chorus of agreements echoed through the room from the other Jewels, and Ruby stepped back, examining her own segment of the spell before nodding. Sistina had claimed that the spell would only allow them to communicate with the angel while within the room, nothing more. That was more than enough for her, and she was fairly sure that Sistina was right.

  Finally Lirisel nodded, giving a slight smile. “I suppose. I’m sorry for always being a worrywart where Sistina’s concerned, but I don’t want to have something go wrong again.”

  “Far better to be cautious than to jump into a disaster without thinking,” Ruby replied, smiling at her and nodding in approval. “Shall we?”

  Taking their positions around the formation, the Jewels readied their magic just to be safe, then nodded to Lirisel. The other priestess took a deep breath before speaking the command words they’d been given.

  The cage shimmered for a moment, and rapidly grew in place until it was twenty feet tall and the angel within was her normal size as well. Ruby looked at the angel in surprise, just barely able to recognize the face of the woman from their trip to Westgate with the Enforcers, but the rest of the angel was far different, and not just because of the armor she was wearing.

  Zenith’s hair, body, and even her halo and wings were different enough that if she hadn’t been warned Ruby might have mistook her for another angel. As it was, Zenith was something of a shock. Her armor was cracked, and she had a look of fury on her face as she strained at the cage’s bars.

  “Release me or suffer Tyria’s wrath when she discovers what you’ve done!” Zenith exclaimed, hammering at the unyielding bars. The sounds were strangely muffled, as if they were passing through a wall, which probably was all that was making them tolerable.

  Seeing that the angel wasn’t about to escape, Ruby relaxed as Lirisel spoke, her voice much firmer than before. “No. You were once an angel of Medaea, and the goddess herself is threatened by others. How can you have aligned yourself with her captors?”

  “You fools! The goddess herself was deceived into the state she was in, robbed of her proper place and power. I cannot allow you to blaspheme by claiming she is some… some other goddess!” The angel’s voice was filled with shock and anger, and Ruby winced as she hit the bars with all the force she could muster.

  A blow which could have shattered a city wall had absolutely no effect, seemingly absorbed effortlessly by the cage. That seemed to anger Zenith still more, and Ruby heard Opal speak softly. “It looks like this is going to be a long, painful process.”

  “Agreed. At least the cage is solid,” Emerald replied, and Ruby couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. She was right, after all, and so was Opal.

  “How does it feel, knowing that you were a legend?” Phynis asked curiously, looking in the mirror at Sistina. The dryad looked up from unbraiding Phynis’ hair and shrugged, smiling.

  “No different. I am myself. That is long past and explains my knowledge. Nothing more, nothing less,” Sistina replied, her voice soft and her fingers gentle as she carefully undid a tangle. “Far more interesting was word of Emonael. I had forgotten her.”

  “Who was she? I mean, if you’ve remembered anything more about her.” Phynis couldn’t help herself as she flushed and asked, “I-I suppose I also want to know who she was to you, I guess.”

  “She was a succubus. As a demon lord… weak, but strong for mortals. I could have slain her, but did not wish to. Emonael helped with my research. She believed in it, unlike the others.” Sistina paused, her fingers still, and she smiled more warmly, embracing Phynis from behind. “That is all she was.”

  “But… but she was a succubus? Don’t they seduce anyone they can? I’ve heard they collect the souls of magi to grow more powerful,” Phynis protested, her cheeks coloring, but her hands rising to stroke the dryad’s. “I can’t believe that anyone would doubt your research.”

  “It was another time. My theories were radical, unproven.” Sistina’s voice trailed off, and she shook her head, her voice betraying sadness. “I was old, my life spent in research. Sick, tired, and near death, yet driven. I had no one, and she feared to push me over the edge before I finished. I died alone.”

  The words made Phynis’ eyes go wide, and her fingers froze in stroking Sistina’s. “How old were you?”

  “Does it matter?” Sistina asked, shrugging.

  “Of course it matters! No one should die alone!” Phynis protested, turning abruptly to face the dryad, and she could feel tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “Even when I nearly died, I had my guards, and you were waiting for me. Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter!”

  “I don’t remember, Phynis. Old enough, and weak,” the dryad replied honestly, her brilliant eyes bright and clear. “Besides, it does not matter. I met you. That matters. Nothing else.”

  Phynis’ breath froze again at the soft, sincere words, and she blushed deeply. She had no words, and instead leaned forward until her lips met Sistina’s. Wrapping her arms around the dryad, she put all other thoughts out of her mind. Worries could wait until the morrow, for now she had the one she loved, and that was what was important.

  Chapter 37

  Reva growled as he stared at the enemy banners over Skythorn Fortress. Initially he’d thought that Kelvanis’ army had broken entirely, and that mopping them up would be relatively easy as he chased them back toward Kelvanis’ border. That had been before his opponents had reached Skythorn, where they’d stopped and settled into the fortifications with a determination that had surprised him. While the fortress had taken significant damage in Kelvanis’ assault, the humans had done a surprising amount to repair it in the time they’d had. It made the fortress a difficult prospect, at least with his army’s numbers.

  Even with the losses that Kelvanis’ army had taken they outnumbered Reva’s army almost two to one, and the fortress made that advantage even more pronounced than it had been. His people had made a few assaults, led by the golems once again, but they’d been driven back with the loss of three of the constructs in the process. While they’d done a good amount of damage, it hadn’t been enough to make the attacks worth it.

  So now they were softening the fortress with a steady bombardment by his magi and siege engines. They couldn’t unleash their power fully, not with word having reached him about the goddess Tyria, but the walls of Skythorn were looking far more ragged than they had when he’d arrived. For now he was keeping a large number of the magi in reserve just in case they needed to concentrate on Tyria. The thought wasn’t terribly comforting, though.

  “Do we have any word about the other regions, Lord Galthor?” Reva finally asked, looking at the Baron.

  The older man had seemed to age still more after his son had been put on trial. Farren had done little to defend himself, and no one had doubted the eventual result. In the end, the judges had sentenced him to death, with Farren’s choice of poison or beheading. Farren had chosen poison, and few had objected to Baron Galthor burying his son in a private, secretive ceremony. Reva certainly didn’t blame the man for hiding the burial ground, since he was certain that people would have defaced the traitor’s grave otherwise.

  “Colonel Fairbrook has been promoted to Acting General, and thus far has not only defeated the attacks in the eastern forest, but he’s also taken two border forts from Kelvanis. A lot of people seem to think he’s trying
to wash away the shame that Chavin gave their family name. I can’t say I blame him if that’s true,” Baron Galthor replied, his voice strained. “Kelvanis has penetrated approximately fifty miles across the border everywhere but around Galthor, though they’ve since focused most of their army on us.”

  “Mmm… well, don’t I feel special?” Reva laughed softly, grinning at the older man and shrugging. “I suppose it’s for the best, though. What about the rebels and those we sent to Beacon? I heard something about a Kelvanis army heading there too.”

  “Our reports from them are sporadic, but another army does seem to be moving to besiege Beacon from Westgate,” the Baron confirmed, shaking his head. “From everything I’ve heard, they should make it, but it will be close. If they’re intercepted by a large patrol, things could go badly.”

  “Possibly so, but Colonel Gross seemed to be a competent man. I’m sure his battalion will get them to Beacon safely,” Reva murmured.

  Dispatching the rebels and slaves to Beacon was a risk, but it was the only way Sifaren had to free those who’d been enslaved, so after a good deal of discussion they’d chosen to do so. At least Slaid Darkeye had confirmed that Colonel Gross was one of his people, which had eased Reva’s fears.

  “I do hope so. With any luck, we can kick these bastards out of our country soon,” the Baron replied. “Do we have any idea when Yisara is going to attack?”

  “I’m afraid not. Soon, I hope,” Reva replied, shrugging helplessly as he watched a dozen enchanted stones launched at Skythorn. Each of the stones exploded in a hail of shrapnel, and he winced at the sight.

  “As do I. We need all the help we can get,” Baron Galthor answered seriously.

  Captain Arthan Southpeak smiled as he looked at the main army preparing to move out. His garrison had been drawn down to only a few squads holding the fort. Those who’d been summoned by the General had gathered at Fort Enthar, where they’d congregated into one of the largest armies Yisara had fielded in a generation or more. Nearly ten thousand strong, Arthan imagined that most of the forts had been drawn down to almost nothing, considering that he’d heard another army was forming along the eastern front! What startled him the most was the presence of the Queen herself, though.

 

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