by T. A. Miles
“Where exactly are we going, Master Treir?” Vlas asked after they had traversed three levels of stairs and come to a flat common area that overlooked the city and the water lapping against its edges.
Vaelyx walked to the low wall and scanned the view. Both Vlas and Imris hovered a few paces behind, waiting. When Imris paid Vlas a sidelong glance, he assured her with a simple nod. They were both going to see whatever this was through. They were going to have their answers and they were going to deliver them to their respective superiors.
“The last twenty years,” Vaelyx said, “have been long.”
“Spent in a cell? I don’t doubt it.”
Either the ungentle tone, or the words themselves, garnered a look from the man. It was not a particularly hard or affronted one. He said, “My daughter provided a passage out eventually. Until then, imprisonment provided shelter. When I was approached with the charges against me, I didn’t resist. I knew it would be better to work from there.”
“Are you saying you didn’t make a public statement against the governor?” Vlas asked.
Gray eyebrows lifted and Vaelyx shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “There would have been no point to resisting. I was too close to too many secrets, some of which could have been legitimately used against me. Even so, I suppose the best way to ensure I was kept away would be to portray me as an active danger.”
“There must have been witnesses to the act you were accused of,” Vlas insisted.
Vaelyx cocked his head slightly and spat out a dry laugh. “Were there? I never met them.”
Vlas and Imris looked at each other.
And then Vaelyx said, “It doesn’t matter. I found the circumstances more useful than fending off constant attack. I’d made other allies.”
“The coven,” Vlas presumed.
Vaelyx nodded. He asked next, “Did Ceth receive half of what I corresponded to him?”
“He received a response to his query in your interest that stated you were quite done with the Vassenleigh Order and everything except your new allies.”
“But before that,” Vaelyx pressed. “All of my letters regarding the Islands.”
Vlas shook his head. Truthfully, he and others west of the coast scarcely knew of their existence.
Vaelyx nodded and drew in a long breath, letting it out evenly. “Well, that’s where we’re going.”
“We have very little time for…”
“You’d better spare some of that time for this,” Vaelyx said to him. His gaze drifted to Imris. “You can escort me back to Constable Rahl once we’ve returned.”
“I’m coming with you,” Imris let him know, on the chance that he intended to take only Vlas.
“You’re welcome to,” Vaelyx said, very readily for a man who had ‘no desire to speak with them’.
In spite of Imris’ willingness, Vlas was himself still undecided. “What makes you believe that I’m going to accompany you to a place that I know very little about, on so little information?”
Vaelyx looked at him again. He had an ease with speaking to others that reminded Vlas of Irslan, but he’d adopted several layers of severity—perhaps some paranoia to go with it—if he wasn’t always that way. He did know things. Vlas had no doubt about that.
“You’re the one my daughter dreamed would accompany me back to that place,” Vaelyx said.
Vlas frowned. “She has Foresight?”
“Fever dreams,” Imris said, casting a hard and simultaneously worried look on Vaelyx. “The children of Serawe have them.”
“And who, or what, is that?” Vlas asked both of them.
Imris reaffirmed the castigating look she had on Vaelyx while answering. “The children of Serawe are begot from union with evil. Serawe was a queen in legend. The Queen of the Great Pit and the birthmother of demons.”
It still wasn’t much information, but it was enough to know he couldn’t ignore this.
“I’ll need time to leave word with my partner,” Vlas said, because all legends were rooted in truth and ignoring this could be far more dangerous than the time lost to investigating it.
The corridor persisted with little change except that the water level lowered the further Korsten and Merran walked. Korsten could feel the movement of the Vadryn in the periphery of his senses. It inspired him to be watchful for connecting entryways of any kind, particularly as the ceiling seemed to drift lower. The idea of being ambushed by these oddly bodied demons in tight quarters made it difficult to concentrate.
“At the very least,” Merran said. “Having their interest down here may mean that they’re distracted from their agenda above.”
“I’m not sure that I feel comforted by that,” Korsten replied. “But I see your point.”
“What I want to know,” his partner continued, guiding his Lantern to either side of the narrowing corridor as they walked, “is why the first demon we encountered was so typical and somehow separate of these.”
“With so many others present, it should have felt intimidated,” Korsten said, following Merran’s reasoning. “Perhaps to leaving altogether. If the Vadryn here have developed a sort of pack mentality…”
Merran stopped walking and turned to face Korsten.
Korsten drew to a stop as well, and they both looked at each other as they contemplated their shared revelation.
Was that what the Vadryn had done? Had they banded together as animals, adopting a community and maybe even a localized hierarchy? But the vessels…they were too uniform. And the demon they’d encountered first wasn’t leaving the city, but it was desperate to possess. To possess a young girl who Korsten still felt had responded strangely, even if not dangerously, to the event.
He shook his head slowly. “I feel that there are too many hidden elements at play here.”
Merran answered with a nod of agreement. And then he asked, “Where are they now?”
Instinctively, Korsten thought that he couldn’t possibly have any idea, but just as instinctively, the feeling of their presence contradicted him. He realized in that moment that he was fighting himself. His talent was evolving. He yet had two talents that had been dormant since Emergence and while Song and Will may not have had any direct influence on matters at hand, Allurance and he still had growing to do. It had only recently come to Ambience. The full range of its potential would likely take many years to discover.
“They’re still moving around us,” he said to Merran.
“Staying relatively close?”
Korsten nodded. “If we do find an outlet, they’ll likely meet us there.”
“Yes,” Merran said. “I hoped to find more than one outlet and take on fewer at once.”
They began walking again and Korsten voiced his next thought. “Blast seemed to do little. It may require very directly physical efforts to evict them from their hosts.”
“It may,” Merran agreed.
Korsten accepted that without dwelling on it, giving himself back to the task of searching their environment for useful or dangerous deviations. He took a moment to appreciate the silvery illumination the combined effect of their Lanterns and the metallic composition of the surrounding rock created.
It made sense if these passages were utilized by magic users that they surround themselves with elements which naturally conducted energy, such as water and silver. He had to wonder how often the witches used the caves. With the Vadryn present, perhaps they’d been chased out. That would suggest they had no abilities—or perhaps no trained abilities—to combat the demons. It could mean that they were forced into the world outside, forced to witness a society they fundamentally disagreed with, which only worsened the social tension. But why would the Vadryn choose to occupy the caves? Was it to gather a force that could take the city by surprise? Korsten could easily envision the Morennish troops arriving, and from within the city itself an arm
y of demons would emerge…literally out of the shadows.
Merran stopped abruptly, ending the thought in the moment he put his arm out to ensure that Korsten stopped with him. “There’s a drop off,” he explained.
Korsten looked down into the darkness in front of them. As Merran lowered his arm, Korsten crouched down and waved his Lantern forward. The light painted itself over a definitive pit. The corridor looked to continue on the other side. It would require a considerable leap, but it wouldn’t be impossible to get across.
Studying the rim, they stood on, Korsten spied a cord attached to a metal ring that was bolted into the floor. It draped into the pit and had a twin cord not far away.
“There’s a ladder,” he announced.
Merran knelt beside him and tested the rope’s connections to the rings. It was looped on either side with the rope tightly clamped together instead of knotted. Clearly, it was meant to be used. Merran sent his own Lantern down the descending passage and they both watched it light the shadows for several feet before the spell began to weaken and Merran summoned the Lantern back to the top.
“It’ll be a long climb,” Merran pointed out needlessly.
And just as needlessly, Korsten added, “Or a long jump.”
They looked at each other. Silently, they agreed to take the ladder, Merran moving back to allow Korsten access. It didn’t require much thinking to consider that whatever outlet lay across the gap, the Vadryn would likely find it. Descending seemed a better way to divert from a head on route and the ensuing confrontation. Perhaps if they got ahead of the demons they could devise a way to ambush them instead.
Korsten eased himself over the lip and found his footing on rope. He wouldn’t say that he liked the way his weight pulled the ladder from the wall, but it did feel secure. With his Lantern and Analee hovering near his shoulder, he began down. Merran gave him several rungs’ distance before adding his own weight and Lantern. The Vadryn were still present, but Korsten did sense a less dramatically impending crossing of their paths.
They agreed to meet at Cade’s Pier within the hour. Vlas had no idea where that was and was grateful to have Constable Imris with him, though she pointed out along the way to Irslan’s that they were taking a significant risk in trusting Vaelyx. Yes, they were, but at the same time the man had approached them. It made little sense for him to do so only to disappear immediately afterward. That logic put the lady constable at ease, something that the two of them seemed to be at naturally in each other’s company. That suited Vlas fine. He had little patience for needless tension or animosity.
Returning to Irslan’s, they found no one at home or no one awake. Not even Stacen greeted them at the door, or at any point along the route to Cayri’s room. He knew that Cayri would not be sleeping, given the importance of their assignment and the relative youngness of the hour, so when she did not answer his knock on the door, he let himself in. Locating a pen and parchment, he composed a note for her to let her know he might be gone from the house for as much as a day—Vaelyx assured them that the nearest of the Islands would be easily reached by small vessel before the night was over—and that the matter was extremely urgent. He decided not to mention Vaelyx or the Islands specifically, but did include that he was assisting and being assisted by Indhovan’s constabulary.
“And I wonder where you’ve gotten to,” he murmured as he folded the note and found a discrete place to set it on a stand beside the bed. With a quick glancing-over of the undisturbed blankets, he turned to leave, turning back as a corner of yellow-white caught his attention. The parchment lay very stark against the dark bedding—he should have noticed it immediately. He cited himself silently and picked up the creased paper, which Cayri had left for him, as was evident in the words written upon it.
I’m still working at an audience with the governor. The Lady Ilayna has requested to meet with me a second time. So soon after our conversation, it seems strange, but whatever the circumstances are, they require attention. Irslan has information about his uncle that he’s willing to share with us. Talk to him. And take care in your investigations.
Vlas shook his head after reading. He had only an hour—less than an hour by now—and Irslan wasn’t home, besides. Whatever Irslan had been withholding or had lately learned about Vaelyx, Vlas had a strong suspicion that he’d already gleaned some of that this evening and what he hadn’t discovered, he would before their visit to the Islands was over.
Standing just inside the assembly hall, Vaelyx watched Ersana speak to people who were gathered because they were unsure. Some may have been afraid and seeking comfort. Others were not entirely afraid, but still seeking reassurance that the gods were on their side in this.
Years of bodies disappearing and turning up with their souls scraped clean from them was enough to unsteady anyone. Who was stealing the life out of bodies and to what ends? Vaelyx believed he knew…or that he knew enough to learn the full truth, but he wasn’t foolish enough to go alone.
He had hoped to have the aid of priests years before now. He had hoped to have the support of his friend, but both hopes were snuffed out by betrayal he couldn’t prove. Not yet, at any rate. He had a priest with him now and he hoped that one was enough. He knew there were more present. Through Dacia, he had a vague recollection of two or more others.
The red of one stood out prominently in his mind and from time to time he thought he heard a voice to pair with it. Stranger than that, he thought he felt that voice. It didn’t match with Priest Vlas, but the very young-appearing man was a match for the vision he and Dacia had shared in a dream. She had seen the Islands, one in particular. She had seen a golden-haired man in blue. She had seen…something else, something he opted not to share with the priest and constable.
Vaelyx took in some of the smoke-filled night air as it mingled in the hall and let his gaze seek out his daughter. She stood as she often did; oblivious to most of the world around her. Three nights following the dream, she’d run off. A demon tried to take her. He’d heard about it from Stacen after the fact.
He knew it was his fault, because she always behaved erratically after having close contact with him…through the working of magic he knew he should not have been tampering with. Magic was the only tool he could find to use against them, though. He had someone better equipped with him now and he would leave Dacia alone. Ersana and the coven would protect her and she could go on believing that Ersana was her mother and never consciously thinking about her father. Twenty-one years ago, he was lucky to regain his own soul, luckier still to have returned to the city with a child he should not have brought into the world. This was going to end now. If he could not have an effective hand in stopping the war itself, this would at least go no further. Indhovan’s decay would come to the surface.
Fourteen
The directions indicated in the note Cayri had received in the library brought her to a street directly beneath the governor’s mansion. It seemed bold of Ilayna to ask her to come almost to the doorstep, but then she suspected Ilayna hadn’t. She couldn’t make the determination based on penmanship, as she hadn’t seen the lady’s pen, and the note was not particularly gendered in its essentially neat style. It was purely her intuition suggesting that Ilayna was not the one behind this request. If she was wrong, she would be relieved. She felt that if Ilayna had contacted her again so quickly it would be a step closer to the governor.
As she mulled the possibilities over, she stood beneath the shadow of the building behind her, studying the city’s seat of power. The manor stood on a slight rise above the streets surrounding it. A stone wall with an iron gate surrounded the house itself, which consisted of six generous stories and was fashioned in a wide configuration with many windows. A good many of them were lit, as were posts along the wall. It was beneath one of those posts that she saw one of the few other souls exposed beneath the deceptively tranquil night sky. She recognized him immediately and had, in
all honesty, expected this.
As if he’d been waiting for her to notice him, Deitir Tahrsel stepped away from his house and across the street, toward Cayri. He had the look of a man who was determined, but the feel of one who was uncertain.
She waited for him to arrive and politely greeted him.
He stood still for several moments simply looking at her, words ebbing upon lips that opened slightly against the weight of those words. He didn’t know where to start. Or perhaps he didn’t know if he should.
“I know you find it difficult to trust me,” Cayri said.
He opened his mouth and took in a breath as if to spit fire at her in his defense, but he caught himself and said—less aggressively than his expression and sense of protection would have it, “It isn’t that.”
Cayri tried to help. “Then what is it?”
He continued to look at her, and she returned the gaze steadily. Very gradually, the young man relaxed, enough that he lowered his eyes before continuing in a voice that was, in spite of him, quite gentle. “I’m worried for my father.”
That surprised Cayri. She had anticipated him mentioning the other parent. She tried to keep her own tone more considerate than interrogative. “Why?”
Deitir hesitated. “He’s not been the same lately.” He looked back toward the house. “I know it’s all this talk of war that’s been weighing on him since I was a child, but…recently it seems that much worse. He rarely speaks to anyone, not even me or Mother. When his deputy and the chief constable approach him about important decisions, he puts them off. When my mother tried to bring up the subject of you and your fellows tonight, he said something that I can’t forget.”
Cayri didn’t take her gaze from Deitir and so met his when he looked at her again. The contact seemed to further relax him, despite his hostility toward her—or the idea of her—before.
“That’s why I sent for you,” he said.
Cayri nodded to acknowledge that, then asked, “What did he say?”
