The Blood Wars Trilogy Omnibus: Volumes 1 - 3

by T. A. Miles

  Instantly, the idea sparked a hope in Vlas that the governor may have been sending reinforcement north after all. Or perhaps some of those still allied with the Old Kingdom were taking the care and initiative to act on their own. Still, Vlas loathed the idea that men would be going into the situation completely uncounseled on the present circumstances. Though it happened frequently. They couldn’t be everywhere at once and they weren’t able to be present for every action soldiers and their leaders made. It was much easier when they made some attempt to communicate, however. Ceth and Ashwin had coordinated advisors and informants everywhere they could reasonably situate them, yet the front demanded most of their attention. They’d had to abandon other tasks, such as actively searching for the Ascendant. There were times when Vlas believed that everyone except Ashwin had long ago given up finding any remaining blood relation; that they had either been entirely killed off as a bloodline or they’d diluted themselves to such a degree that they would no longer stand out to anyone looking. Vlas had to wonder himself if they wouldn’t simply be called to their station—if it was indeed a station they were meant to have—the same as mages were. Ashwin had always assured him that it was different with that family, because they weren’t mages themselves … they were a family in tune with the Spectrum in a unique way, as if the gods intended them to be custodians of the power in the physical world in another application, not as practitioners of magic, but as observers and mediators. Mediators between ordinary humans and mages or between the gods and everyone else, Vlas couldn’t be certain. It was a subject he didn’t often allocate any time to considering.

  The matter was set aside yet again when Vaelyx stopped at the edge of a narrower dock looming in the shadow of a stone wall. A solitary vessel that could easily be manned by one person sat tethered to a pole, which also served as a roost for a night fisher. The bird scarcely shifted its position when Vaelyx moved past in hopping down into the boat.

  And now Vlas had to pause, at least for a moment. He’d never been on the water. He’d barely been in the water, for that matter, beyond bathing.

  Imris, on the other hand, moved readily to the edge of the dock and idly accepted the hand Vaelyx offered when she stepped aboard. She turned around when her feet were placed and extended a hand to Vlas. He looked at it, and at her, and at the boat. The vessel could have been smaller. Capsizing wasn’t a concern, if he truly had a concern at all.

  It was in the midst of debate that Vaelyx stated in the most mundane tone conceivable, “We’re not getting there any faster with you stood on the dock directionless as a liberated crustacean.”

  Vlas couldn’t even begin to picture the reference made, or himself in that moment. When Imris offered her hand again, he took it and stepped down. It was a longer step onto a surface that was not entirely unsteady, but that wasn’t steady at the same time. His grip on Imris’ hand firmed enough that she felt it necessary to bring her other hand to his side. He assured her with a tight smile that he was fine and ignored the casual look of questioning and perhaps some impatience on Vaelyx’s face.

  “How far away are the Islands?” he asked their host.

  “It depends on which one you’re going to,” Vaelyx answered, gathering up the mooring line. “The one we’re headed to … we’ll arrive in about a couple hours. It sits closer to the coast, the first stepping stone of nine that form all of the Islands together.”

  Vaelyx looked at him, his heavy brow lifting with that casual effort that, on closer inspection, signified that the man was actually very tired. “What’s there has already been found,” he said ominously. “You’re going to help me bury it.”

  Vlas looked over at Imris, who was already looking at him, that tone of severity and dissatisfaction in her uniquely colored eyes. He shared the sentiment.

  The descent was testing Korsten’s arm strength. Probably not Merran’s so much, with Endurance as one of his talents. Looking up into their combined Lantern glow at his partner, he saw the other man moving along at an even pace, showing no visible signs of strain. In moments like this Korsten better understood Merran’s incessant role as an active hunter for the Seminary. The man was damned near inexhaustible.

  Korsten looked down again into darkness. How much further could it possibly be? He felt as if they’d traveled the length of Indhovan’s waterfall by now, if not further. He understood that his mind was probably exaggerating somewhat, given the circumstances, but that didn’t quell the sensation of a bottomless hole boring through the earth beneath him.

  With a sweeping hand gesture he guided his Lantern down. He anticipated watching it descend as Merran’s had earlier—until he couldn’t maintain its light and had to draw it back up. When the glow actually expanded against a surface he felt a mild surge of relief. “There’s a landing,” he announced for Merran’s benefit.

  They continued down in silence. At the bottom, Korsten stepped off and away from the ladder, keeping his Lantern near his hand while he looked about the space. The walls were roughly carved rock in an uneven cylindrical shape. It seemed to serve no purpose in its featureless simplicity. He could feel air moving through the vertical passage, however, so there must have been an outlet.

  As Merran was hopping down onto the stone behind him, Korsten’s Lantern passed over a squared archway. Korsten directed his attention to it and received an acknowledging nod, followed by Merran returning his gaze upward the way they had come.

  “Energy flow is strong here,” Merran observed. “We may be able to use that to our advantage.”

  “How?” Korsten asked, looking up first and then at his friend, whose expression so rarely revealed anything that he wondered sometimes why he even bothered. Except that he knew too well that he had simply come to appreciate Merran’s face in all of its stoicism.

  “If we could utilize the increased flow to augment a Fire spell, it would potentially incinerate the vessels,” Merran explained.

  “And potentially leave us with a pit full of disembodied demons,” Korsten pointed out. He couldn’t say he liked the idea. “We don’t know enough about the vessels and whether or not they’ll be strengthened by destroying them. They’re peculiar, but they’re not bloodless. It crossed my mind that these odd forms could be crafted somehow of something inanimate, but it wouldn’t serve the Vadryn to occupy something that didn’t sustain or nourish them. A hollow shell would be tantamount to occupying a log, save for the mobility.”

  Merran looked at him, listening in the way that Merran did; with a very precise silence that let one know he was hearing every word. His blue eyes narrowed as he contemplated those words and he eventually gave his gaze to the opening far above them once again. He was reshaping his plan.

  Korsten allowed him the time to do so, though he did want to remind him of one thing that confirmed the fact that the demons’ vessels were a source of physical vitality. “I can feel their movements.” Reminding Merran was reminding himself and he took a space to decipher what he was feeling.

  They had found many avenues which paralleled the path above and, as he and Merran guessed, they had found a point of convergence and were doubled back to intercept. They would find this place soon. It was an advantageous place—Merran was right—with only one exit and the entrance relatively narrow. Personally he would have preferred it if they could have lured the demons in and sealed off both ends, keeping them until they had a better understanding of what their opponent had devised in these vessels that were neither human nor animal, but that still lived. A Barrier would be difficult to cast at both ends without trapping one of them inside and that, of course, could only be disaster. Maybe a better plan would be to keep ahead of them and continue exploring these caves in search of answers. At the same time, Korsten loathed the idea of being stalked the rest of the night and potentially ambushed at any turn. There was always the possibility of a Reach to get them out, but would that then leave Indhovan to be attacked by the demons with
nothing left to preoccupy them? He knew that there was truth in Merran’s theory that they were, in fact, drawn to Korsten and his movements, but he couldn’t be entirely convinced that he was the primary reason for their distraction. They had come into the entry by the waterfall of their own accord when chased. They were already inside the caves when Korsten and Merran discovered them. At times, they seemed to be luring them … but to what purpose?

  It was in the midst of allowing himself the mental ramble, that Korsten managed to put something plausible together, more or less returning to his earlier idea. “What if we tried to contain them?”

  He was glad to know that Merran had already considered the same plan when his friend said, “One of us would be caught inside with them, at least temporarily.”

  It was with that last bit that Korsten knew they were considering the same thing. “A Reach would take care of that. Just to the other side of a Barrier wouldn’t be too difficult. Either of us could recover from it easily.”

  “Yes, but it would be more complicated working around a Barrier, remember.”

  Korsten hadn’t at first, but he did now. Of course, they would be attempting to move around magic with magic—magic that was meant to contain or block. Still … “It could be done, though.”

  Merran didn’t argue. In fact, he agreed with a contemplative, “It could be done.” After a moment, he said, “It wouldn’t hold them indefinitely.”

  “No,” Korsten replied knowingly. “Perhaps long enough to form a more conclusive plan.”

  They were in agreement. Merran looked over his shoulder and turned toward the opening at their level. Korsten followed him to it and out the other side, onto a narrow ledge with a small wooden bridge connecting across a dark, enclosed space toward another ledge. Obviously these caves were meant for people to move through them, though not with any ease or comfort. He wondered if they had been in a better state once. The ruins near the entrance and the earlier sections seemed to suggest they were. Considering the torches before, he wondered if Indhovan’s coven only utilized that space anymore, nearer to the surface … and if the rest had been left forgotten, ample space to be infested without anyone immediately noticing. But with such an advantage, why would the Vadryn begin surfacing so recklessly in the city?

  The question let him know that he’d managed to reverse his own way of thinking to Vlas’, where he was now ready to believe that the demons had orchestrated a plan to begin with let alone actually worked together consciously to enact it. He didn’t have to abandon his original ideas altogether, though. The presence of one of their more ancient and stronger members could have been behind this organization. A Master Vadryn could have cowed a horde of lesser beasts and been commanding them, using blood as a lure. The Vadryn as Korsten understood them would surely overlook the threat of destruction to satisfy their gluttony. He noted to himself next that his stubbornness in the moment rivaled none other than Sethaniel and while he expected that to chase his thoughts away from the subject, he was surprised to find that they shot off toward home, slipping a pebble of grief into the pool of his thoughts. Depression radiated outward, making him feel cold and oddly as if he were in the wrong place. He hadn’t felt genuine displacement in a long while. He didn’t quite know what to do with it, except to ignore the sensation and focus on the situation at hand. There were demons approaching behind them. They either had to attempt their plan, or they had to continue on and hope to find answers that would lead them to a better one.

  “I think we should set the Barriers,” Merran said.

  And Korsten drew in a breath and nodded. “I’ll finish the seal from inside.”

  Merran didn’t argue with him as immediately as Korsten anticipated he might, but he did say, “It could be possible to finish it on this side.”

  Yes, it could. “But we shouldn’t risk that they’ll chase both of us out faster than we can work the spell. We don’t even know that all of them will come into this space. Stragglers might get sealed out and we’ll still have to deal with them.”

  “Better to deal with less of them,” Merran pointed out reasonably.

  Korsten agreed, but shook his head anyway. “They’re drawn to me. I’m going to lure them.”

  “Lure them?” Merran looked at him with the telltale signs of argument on his face; narrowed eyes, slightly cocked expression….

  “Yes,” Korsten said conclusively. “I’ll use the energy well this may be to emanate Allurance. I’ll be a flame for….”

  “For a swarm,” Merran interrupted, but Korsten wouldn’t hear it.

  “It’ll give you time to build the Barrier overhead without them growing suspicious, then to leave and seal the base.” The more he listened to himself, the less certain he was that he liked his own idea, but he knew it would work. He knew it would work because he was determined to make it work.

  Merran wasn’t convinced and his frown said as much.

  “If they attack, I’ll fend them off with Blast,” Korsten assured. “I’ll perform the Reach the moment you’re clearly out and finished.”

  “Provided you haven’t expended all of your strength.”

  “Merran, you know that you’re my strength,” Korsten said, drawing a very definitive silence from his friend. He suddenly wished he hadn’t said that, but with the words out, he added to them as quickly as explanation could provide itself. “You’ve always caught me before I could fall too far. I know that you’re not going to let me fail, and so do you.”

  Whether or not Merran wholly agreed, he acceded with a nod and it was decided. Luring the Vadryn—or encouraging them to continue toward them—was their next course of action.

  The governor was brought safely to his bed and appeared, for the most part, to be maintaining a stable condition. He looked to be at rest and not in pain, though he had not regained consciousness. Cayri would have liked to ask him what he felt had happened to better make an assessment on his state. According to his son and wife, Tahrsel had no history of illness or fits that could explain the event. Unfortunately, that typically set explanation into the realm of the Vadryn. Still, Cayri did not feel that what she witnessed was the result of possession. Influence, perhaps.

  A physician had come and seen to the governor’s comfort to the best of his ability, providing an herbal concoction that would help him stay physically relaxed. Along with the physician—a sturdy-framed man perhaps ten to fifteen years Deitir’s senior—came a man approximately a half century old with shoulder-length hair that was turning silver, sharp gray eyes, and a complexion that may have been red due to stress. The deputy governor seemed to have little interest in assuming Tahrsel’s duties long enough to comfortably transition Deitir into the position, a position Deitir also appeared to have little interest in. If the Vadryn had an interest in Tahrsel’s role as chief citizen of Indhovan, they were potentially losing their hold. And if neither the deputy governor nor Deitir were acting agents of Morenne and potential instruments of the Vadryn, then who was?

  Cayri didn’t suspect Ilayna. Considering what Irslan’s uncle had written about Konlan, it seemed plausible that one of the two friends could have been such an instrument, whether wittingly or unwittingly. Vaelyx had been imprisoned for the last twenty years and was formerly an ally to the Seminary. Ceth or Ashwin—or any of the other mages the man had come into contact with—would have detected demonic influence, which only meant that the man wasn’t possessed or being controlled by demons twenty years ago. Anything could have occurred in the time he’d spent locked away, perhaps losing hope or his mind. And now he was out … with Vlas looking for him. She hoped that Vlas would be safe in these ever-changing conditions. He was smart and he was capable, but he was also headstrong.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Ilayna asked.

  Cayri thought at first the other woman was addressing the physician and did not answer immediately. When she realized the lady’s gaze was
settled on her, she shook her head in reply. To hopefully add some comfort, she also said, “I suspect it was the effect of an outside influence, which could also explain why his behavior was so unusual.”

  “Is this influence ongoing?” Ilayna wanted to know next. “Is this going to get worse?”

  “I can’t say anything for certain at this time,” Cayri replied honestly. “You and Deitir should maintain vigilance, and stay with him. I’m going to do everything within my power to help you resolve this.”

  She was referring to them, as a family. Too many families had been damaged by this war and the Vadryn. It was difficult to fully realize that from her position, removed from family as most in Edrinor understood it. To a woman like Ilayna it may have seemed that Cayri had no hope of understanding it. She did, though. Her family was her fellow mages. She was a daughter in some ways, a sister in others. She’d been a lover, if not a wife or a mother. She understood the significance of connection between people and among them. This war was not only about demons or injustice, it was about people and their relationships to one another surviving it intact. She was determined to help the Tahrsels overcome this and thereby others—potentially an entire city of individuals reliant on their leadership—as well.

  Projecting Allurance consciously required Korsten to consider instances where he’d done so unconsciously. He thought about the way individuals in the past had been drawn to him, about how he was able to capture attention when he spoke to groups of individuals or performed in some way before them. He thought about what he and Ecland had done to each other, their talents overlapping and coiling about one another as they physically mirrored the movement of magic between them. It was easier with contact, he thought to himself. Skin contact, eye contact … even a verbal connection as the sound of his voice touched the ears of his audience. It was easier with people, he wanted to conclude, but then he realized that it wasn’t always people that he had charmed. Markam, possibly Bael—enough that the demon may have felt the need to deny it—and even Renmyr….