The Labyrinth of Flame (The Shattered Sigil Book 3)

by Courtney Schafer

  “Oh, mother of maidens.” I slumped in the bed, my face burning. “Tell me I didn’t really pour out all our water.”

  Kiran gave a wry chuckle. “Oh, you most certainly did. But that wasn’t the worst part. You were so sick, and I—well. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I found us help. However, there are, um. Complications.” He leaned in and whispered a hurried account that grew more disturbing the longer I listened.

  When he stopped, I gripped his arm, uncaring of my sore muscles. It was all I could do to keep my words as soft as his instead of shouting. “Let me get this straight. You promised I’d help some crazy cultist break into the most heavily guarded spot in all of Prosul Akheba? Then you spilled your guts to a mage you know is a liar and handed him the last of the Alathians’ drug? For fuck’s sake, Kiran! You—”

  “You were dying,” Kiran said. “Would you prefer that I’d bargained with the godspeaker, or even Ruslan? Because letting you die was not an option.”

  The intensity of his conviction both warmed and worried me. This was definitely the Kiran I remembered: the friend who’d once been so determined to help me that he’d ignored his terror of Ruslan and risked a fate far worse than death for my sake.

  But he was dead serious. He’d have bargained with Ruslan if he thought he had no other choice. Risking himself as he’d done when we first returned to Ninavel was one thing. Risking Cara and Melly and everyone else who stood to suffer if Ruslan stayed his course? My life wasn’t worth such a price.

  No time to argue about it now. We had too many other urgent problems.

  “Can’t deny I’m glad to be alive,” I said. “But leaving aside this insanity about the Khalat—Teo knows you’re from Ninavel, and he knows a powerful mage hunts you. What’s to stop him casting to send a message? One whiff of our location in the wrong ears…” I wouldn’t even whisper Ruslan’s name with a mage lurking somewhere in the house. “Things could get nasty, very fast.”

  “Teo is afraid. Of our enemy, and of…of me.” Kiran bowed his head, but not before I saw uneasy shame cross his face. “He knows I’ll feel it if he casts. So far he’s done nothing to suggest he intends betrayal. He saved your life and he’s slowed the disruption of my ikilhia, even if he hasn’t yet found a way to reverse it. I had mere drops of the drug left when I came here. I tell you, without his aid, I’d either be dead or in Ruslan’s hands right now.”

  Shit. I could imagine how terrified Kiran must’ve been, how desperate, yet he hadn’t given up. He’d kept on just as I’d asked him to do, and found us help. And here I was, jumping all over him for it.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I know things could be plenty worse. It’s just a lot to take in.” Especially when my thoughts felt as mushy and sluggish as my body. I had to focus, damn it. “Teo’s trustworthiness and Zadikah’s plans aren’t the only things worrying me. You said you saw a demon in the gorge.”

  “I told you, I’m not sure that was real.”

  “No? Then tell me why I woke up to find you talking in a demon’s language.”

  “Demon’s language?” His head came up, his eyes wide and startled.

  “You sounded just like you did in the Cirque of the Knives.”

  His fingers whitened on the waterjug. “I don’t remember saying anything. But I’ve been having strange dreams ever since the night we spent at the rockfall…” He glanced at the curtained doorway. “I’ll tell you later. Teo’s coming.”

  Gods all damn it, not yet! I still had a thousand questions, not only about dreams and demons, but about Zadikah and her intended revolt.

  The curtain jerked aside, and a slender, barefoot man dressed in a loose vest and trousers strode into the room. His glossy black hair, the flat golden planes of his face, and the fold to his eyelids all suggested he was pure-born Korassian. Not all that common out here, since Korassia’s closest islands lay well off Arkennland’s far distant southeastern coast. Most in Ninavel who claimed Korassian ancestry had plenty of other blood in the mix, though I’d met a few hardy island-born souls possessed of enough wanderlust to travel all the way across Arkennland’s vast interior. But why would a Korassian mage come so far only to play the part of some scruffy desert healer rather than living in luxury in magic-rich Ninavel?

  Teo’s gaze raked over me from head to toe, then flicked to Kiran. “Is he lucid this time?” He had only a trace of a Korassian’s lilting accent. He must’ve left the islands long years ago.

  Kiran nodded. “He seems much improved.”

  “Good.” Teo made straight for my bedside. Kiran backed to give him room, but not far. If he hadn’t already told me Teo was a mage, I might’ve guessed it from the odd mixture of wariness and challenge in Kiran’s demeanor. Only time I’d ever seen him display anything similar was with the mages of Alathia’s Watch.

  Teo interlaced his fingers in a Varkevian-style formal greeting and inclined his head to me. “I’ve introduced myself before, but you may not remember it.”

  “Teo, right? Kiran tells me it’s thanks to you I’m not vulture food. Something I very much appreciate.” I might be skittish as hell of him, but I didn’t mean to show it.

  Kiran added quietly, “I too am grateful for your help.”

  Teo’s coolly polite expression took on a sardonic cast. “How nice to know you’re capable of gratitude as well as threats.”

  Dull spots of color bloomed on Kiran’s high cheekbones, but he met Teo’s gaze steadily. “Now Dev’s recovering, you needn’t endure our presence much longer. We’ll leave as soon as you can provide me a remedy that works as well as my original drug.”

  “Or fix Kiran so he doesn’t need any drugs,” I said. “Unless you don’t think you’re skilled enough for that?” I’d never met a mage who could resist a challenge.

  Teo raised his brows at me. “I’m doing my best to restore the balance of his body, but his condition is far more difficult to address than yours—and yours was no easy fight. I don’t think I could’ve won the battle, had you not clung to life with a strength I’ve seen in few men so ill.” His mouth twitched in a dry smile. “In my experience, such determination only comes with a consuming devotion to some goal far greater than your own survival. I can’t help but wonder what you desire so desperately that it gives you the power to hold back death.”

  “Some of us are just stubborn.” I shoved aside the images Teo’s words had summoned: Cara, her blue eyes alight, her arms sure and strong around me; Melly, laughing and playing without fear…

  Ruslan, howling in agony as grinning demons ripped him to shreds. For all I’d discovered in Ninavel that the taste of revenge was bitter, I wanted that viper to suffer. Though I’d take any means to his death I could get.

  “Not so stubborn that you’ll ignore your body’s need for further rest and healing, I trust,” Teo said. “When you leave, I want you to travel far from this house, not collapse mere feet from my door. Have you any pain?”

  “Mostly I just feel a bit weak.” A lot weak, actually. If I tried to leave the bed, I wasn’t at all sure my legs would hold me. A state of affairs I didn’t like one bit. “How long until I’m all the way better?”

  “Days rather than weeks, I’d hope. The more scrupulous you are in obeying my advice, the faster you’ll recover.” Teo glanced at Kiran. “Zadikah’s returned from her dawn hunt. Go ask her to make up a bowl of hare’s-meat broth. I’ll examine Dev and determine which herbs should be added to speed his recovery.”

  Oh, hell. I wasn’t at all keen on being left alone with a mage I didn’t trust. Kiran shifted, his eyes narrowing. He opened his mouth, but Teo spoke first.

  “You can’t think I will harm him. You would feel it if—” He shot a swift look at me.

  “If you cast?” Kiran said pointedly. At Teo’s glare, he added, “Yes, I told him. He needed to know whose care we are in. You don’t have to worry. He’ll honor my promise.”

  “I’ll hold my tongue,” I agreed, with my best earnest expression.

  Teo didn�
��t look reassured. Neither did Kiran, and I knew why. Casting wasn’t the only danger here. Mages couldn’t search a man’s mind properly while he was delirious or unconscious, but now? One touch, and Teo might learn far too much we needed kept hidden.

  Yet if we kicked up too much of a fuss over being separated, Teo would grow all the more suspicious over what we were hiding. I’d feel it if he started rummaging in my head. I well remembered the smothering pressure of Marten sliding through my mind, and the icy, implacable force I’d endured from Simon Levanian. Teo was already nervous of Kiran. Reinforce that fear, and he’d think twice about any mental digging.

  I said to Kiran, “Go on, you’ve no need to hover. But you hear me yell, or you feel him cast, then you come running and show him just how stupid he was to cross you.”

  “Count on it.” Kiran’s cold certainty was perfect. A little too much so, in fact. It reminded me uncomfortably of Ruslan.

  Teo had the look of a man struggling not to say something he’d regret. Scowling, he jerked a hand in a gesture of acceptance. Kiran ducked out through the curtain, not without a last, worried glance at me.

  Amazing how much tension drained from Teo’s posture with Kiran out of the room. I took a steadying breath. He must mean to interrogate me with words, even if not with magic.

  Two could play that game. “So,” I said, as easily as if no threats had ever been spoken. “A rare thing, to find a collegium-trained healer so far outside a city’s walls. I admit I’m curious. What brought you here?”

  “I got tired of city crowds,” Teo said. “Show me your tongue.”

  Should’ve known a mage wouldn’t be an easy slip. Obediently, I stuck out my tongue. Teo scrutinized it, then peered at my eyes and my fingernails, briskly efficient as an Alathian. At least he didn’t start jabbing me with copper needles the way Alathian healers loved to do. But when he reached for my wrist, I jerked my arm away before I could stop myself.

  Something flashed in Teo’s eyes that looked almost like pity. “I only wish to feel your pulse.”

  “So long as that’s all you do.” Reluctantly, I extended my arm. His fingers settled on my inner wrist and pressed gently. I held my breath, straining for the least sense of anything odd, but felt nothing.

  Teo released my wrist. “Dev. Do you travel with Kiran of your own free will?”

  The depth of concern in his tone startled me even more than the question. He thought me Kiran’s property, enslaved the way a blood mage’s servants usually were, and he was tacitly asking if I wanted help. Maybe he was pretending sympathy as part of some move against Kiran. But if his concern was real…maybe he was a lot more like Kiran than I’d thought. Not entirely a comforting notion. If his reasons for concealing his identity were even half as horrific as Kiran’s, I wanted to run far and fast before those reasons bit us in the ass.

  “You’ve got us all wrong,” I said. “If anything, Kiran’s the one traveling with me, not the other way around.”

  Teo’s brows drew together. “But you know what he is.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said. “My friend.”

  “Friend,” Teo repeated flatly. “Did he tell you he almost killed you?”

  I snorted, as skeptical as I could make it. Not that I thought Teo was lying—I’d known every step of the way on this trip that a serious injury for Kiran could mean my death, and I’d suspected Kiran had left more than a few things out of his hasty recounting. But there’s nothing to loosen a man’s tongue like the burning need to prove someone wrong.

  The tale Teo spilled in response soon had my skin crawling. Not because of anything Kiran had done, but because it’d been so long since I thought about the spell Vidai had left in me. I caught myself rubbing at my chest, as if that would help me feel the demonic magic lurking within.

  Teo aimed another of his dry little smiles at me. “Not a comfortable thought, is it?”

  I yanked my hand down. “So? Kiran was only trying to help me. Tell the truth, I’m a lot more nervous about you. Why do you hide what you are?”

  Teo looked out the window, where sunlight was creeping down the domes and turning them to cinnamon and bronze. “Not all talents should be embraced. Some are like knives so sharp they cut even their wielder. The only way to avoid harm is to keep them forever sheathed.”

  Now I didn’t have to pretend skepticism. “You claim you don’t ever—”

  “Never,” Teo said. “For any reason. So you can stop cringing from me as if you fear I will rend your soul from your body. It’s your friend you have reason to fear. One instant of careless inattention on his part, and you nearly died. What happens when he loses his temper?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Kiran would never hurt me deliberately. Look, I get it. He’s spooked you, and you’re not wrong to be afraid. He’d do anything to protect his friends. But you keep your word, and he’ll keep his. I know it’s hard for you to see, but he’s a good man.”

  “It doesn’t matter how good his intentions are,” Teo said. “Ask yourself this: how many lives has he saved, and how many has he ruined?”

  “He’s saved plenty.” Yet I suffered a flash of Kiran with his knife buried in Stevan’s chest and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Hard not to think of amiable old Harken and all the other drovers Kiran had killed by accident in casting to stop Ruslan’s avalanche from destroying our convoy. Or even the dead clanfolk, their lives deliberately stolen, their faces twisted in agonized screams. So many dead and so many more at risk, all because Kiran had chosen to run from Ruslan. If I’d never met him, how much better would my life be? Or Cara’s, or Melly’s?

  “I can see the truth in your face,” Teo said, softly chiding.

  Damn it, Stevan’s death might be on Kiran’s hands, but the rest wasn’t his fault.

  “You want to know who’s ruined countless lives? The enemy who hunts us, and Kiran and I mean to stop him from destroying more. That’s a worthwhile use of magic if I’ve ever seen one, and I’ve seen plenty. What of firestones, and healing spells, and defensive charms?”

  Teo sighed. “If magic brought only evil, it would be easy to reject. But a tool is only as good as its wielder, and even the best of us is dangerously flawed.” He looked into the rising sun, his eyes onyx ovals in a mask of gold. “The Kaithans say that it is Shaikar himself who touches unborn souls to grant them a glimmer of godfire—and they say he laughs as he does it, knowing the havoc the mage-born will wreak, whether by their own will or that of others.”

  Teo sounded like Vidai, who’d tried so hard to destroy all Ninavel’s mages. The hell of it was, I wasn’t so sure the part about Shaikar was wrong. Thinking of Kiran and his mysterious link to demonkind, my stomach grew unsettled all over again. I burned to know more about the strange dreams he’d mentioned before Teo interrupted us.

  Kiran hurried back into the room, carrying a steaming bowl that gave off a rich, meaty aroma. My stomach growled louder than a starving sandcat.

  “Gods, that smells good.” I reached for the bowl.

  “Wait.” Teo barred Kiran’s path. “I’ll need to add a few herbs first. Put the broth on the table, and I’ll get my satchel.”

  “No need.” A woman ducked through the curtain. Hawk-featured, Sulanian-dark, not far from my own age—she handed Teo a bulging leather bag. “Thought you might want this.”

  “Zadikah.” Teo’s eyes warmed and his posture softened. All at once, he looked both younger than I’d thought, and far more vulnerable. “Thank you.” He rummaged through the satchel, pulling out pouches and vials.

  So this was the infamous Zadikah. She didn’t look like someone crazy enough to try taking down a ruling house, but then, I don’t know what I’d expected. A touch of wild fervor about the eyes, maybe, rather than the self-possessed intelligence I saw. She did have a compelling voice, smoky yet melodious, with a faintly Sulanian lilt to her broad Varkevian vowels.

  She surveyed me with cool interest. “Nice to see you awake at last. From what Kiran says of you, I wager yo
u’ll soon be panting to crawl out of that bed. Let me know when your legs feel ready, and I’ll take you on a little walk outside. Nothing like fresh air to speed an invalid’s recovery.”

  “I’d love a walk.” Eager to discuss her plans, was she? Fine with me. I wanted to know what exactly Kiran’s promises had let me in for, and the sooner the better.

  Teo stopped stirring long enough to give me a forbidding look. “No walking until the cool of the evening, and then only if I deem it wise. Until that time, you rest.”

  Frustration flared in Zadikah’s eyes, swiftly buried. “Just as well. I’ve some tasks that need doing first.” She ducked out of the room.

  Tasks related to this little coup of hers? Her eagerness to talk in private implied that whatever she and her friends planned had to happen soon. I wished Teo would hurry up and leave so I could learn more from Kiran. I settled back, doing my best to project meek acceptance. Playing the quiet, biddable invalid was my best chance of getting some time alone with Kiran. I could be patient until then.

  * * *

  “Khalmet’s bloodsoaked hand, how much longer can Teo possibly take in testing his potions on Kiran?” I demanded of Raishal. “They’ve been gone for hours.” Turned out it was damn near impossible to be patient when stuck in a bed with nothing to do but worry.

  Raishal only grinned at me. “Drink this.” She handed me a cup of some dark liquid that stank like rotting eggs. “Can’t promise it’ll make the time go faster, but it’ll help you gain the strength you need to leave this bed.”

  She’d been minding me in Teo’s absence. She acted like his apprentice, but she spoke of him with the warm familiarity of a lover. I wasn’t surprised. Yeah, Zadikah obviously had Teo hooked deep, and Raishal was married to Veddis—a quietly easygoing clansman with an astonishing variety of scars, who’d admitted to me with a blush of pride that he’d carved the strikingly intricate little bone figurines adorning the shelves—but Varkevians were big on multiple partners. They liked to build a webwork of bonds, the larger and more complex the better. I’d heard Varkevian merchant houses were all family operations. To join, you had to marry in, preferably to multiple members, and they considered ties by vow as unbreakable as those by blood.