Concealed: The Taellaneth - Book 1

by Vanessa Nelson

  “Foolish,” Kallish agreed, Xeveran providing a rapid translation. “Not the first fool to want power and not count the cost.”

  “And the others?” Arrow asked.

  “Danes. Rowan. The one with the crossbow was another Rowan,” Matthias told her. “We recognise the faces from research.” Kallish nodded her agreement. Every White Guard cadre leader would know the Descendants by sight.

  “Space is clear?” Zachary was just checking.

  “No more living things,” Matthias confirmed. “It’s huge. A little way in that direction,” he pointed, “ground slopes up in a roadway There’s a vehicle door. Probably leads to the street. Couple of vehicles we need to check plates for and some stuff I’m not touching without Arrow.”

  “They could have been here for years.” Zachary stared at the body.

  Had been here for years, Arrow amended quietly in her mind. The ruined tower above had been two hundred years old, built to provide light below in a time when artificial light had not been available. She wondered what other surprises the Descendants’ residences would hold when the White Guard searched them. Treaty or not, the Queen would not allow this to pass without reprisal. The humans, so long used to the Erith as exotic neighbours, were about to get a harsh lesson in Erith justice.

  “Yeah.” Matthias sounded worn.

  “And we might never have found them.” Zachary’s voice held a threat, words cast in the direction of the human. “Come here.” There was no power in his voice, but Lucy rose to her feet and walked over to him, pulling her heavy coat more tightly around her, lifting her chin again in silent defiance. “This is what happens when people play with things they don’t understand,” he told her, pointing to the mangled remains.

  “You killed him.” She was glaring at Arrow, voice shaking. Not fear.

  “He carried a surjusi within. Willingly,” Arrow answered. “You would call it a demon.”

  “No. I don’t believe it.”

  “Look at him. Look at how deformed his body had become. That is no human disease,” Arrow said, then sighed as Lucy’s chin stuck out.

  “Demon ridden,” Zachary said softly, close to Lucy’s ear. “And now look at your cousin.”

  “I saw him. Dead as well.”

  “Deformed, too. Tried to play with demons.” Zachary’s voice was still too quiet.

  Lucy’s attention finally turned to him, and some of her defiance faded.

  “Which we would have known about if you had told us the truth.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “This one,” Arrow said, pointing to Hessman’s remains, “killed Marianne on the mountain. He hunted her across the mountain until she had run her feet raw. Then he shot her with a crossbow.” Arrow paused to steady her voice. “It was a weapon made from body parts and powered with blood magic.”

  Lucy’s face was white, eyes burning as she stared at Arrow.

  “I didn’t know.” She swallowed hard, lines of her throat standing out.

  Arrow believed her. Zachary did, too, face twisting in disgust.

  “How did you know about this place?” Arrow asked.

  “We played here as children. A few times. It …” Lucy looked around, swallowed, nose wrinkling. “It’s changed a bit since then.”

  “And didn’t think to mention it.” Zachary’s voice was silky soft again.

  “Would it have made a difference?” The bitterness in Lucy’s voice made no impression on the Prime. She seemed furious.

  Arrow remembered the quiet question, is it my fault? and thought that Lucy was mostly angry at herself, hating everyone else because that was easier than accepting that she had contributed to her lover’s death.

  “It would have saved us some time,” Zachary said, “and you’d still be a friend of the muster. As it is, you’re disavowed.”

  “Y-you …” Lucy’s mouth opened again but no sound came out as all the ‘kin apart from Zachary turned their back on her.

  “Get out,” he told her.

  “I dropped my torch when you grabbed me,” she protested. He dug into one pocket, producing a small flashlight, and handed it over. After another glance up at his set face, and a long look around the silent Erith and backs of the ‘kin, she turned on the torch and walked out of the circle.

  “One assumes that the human female was not widely known about,” Kallish said quietly.

  “One assumes correctly. It has not formed part of my reports.”

  “I see no reason to mention it.”

  Perfectly in accord, Arrow and Kallish waited as Lucy’s torch disappeared into the dark and the ‘kin settled, anger on several faces. Not directed to their Prime, she noticed. The glares were following Lucy’s progress into the dark. She had wondered how he had managed to keep it a secret from his people and it appeared that it had not been much of a secret. It said something about the regard they had for him that they had kept quiet, though.

  “Injuries, svegraen?”

  “Some minor wounds. And cleansing needed,” Kallish answered. For the first time, Arrow heard weariness in the warrior’s voice. “We had hoped not to have to face surjusi again.”

  Arrow could find nothing to say to that.

  ~

  She stared at Hessman’s body and wondered again if the human had thought the price for his power had been worth it. Every limb was distorted, fingers twisted so that he probably had not even been able to feed himself. If he had eaten at all. He was so thin, merely skin over bone and sinew. Her eyes snapped back to the misshapen fingers. There was no possibility that this thing had handled the chalk with the skill necessary for the runes on Farraway Mountain. He might have managed the containment spell in Hallveran, straight after the surjusi had arrived. The surjusi distortion would have been mild then. But the mountain recording had shown him shuffling and awkward in his gait.

  A cold certainty settled. Someone else had drawn the runes. All of them. Someone who had knowledge of high Erith magic. Us. There were more.

  And with that conclusion there was a new, vital, question as to how he had survived so long with that surjusi inside him. Nothing in the history that Arrow knew suggested he, or the Ancestors, had been powerful magicians. His body had not been made to carry that much power and had survived far longer than she would have guessed possible.

  She took a step forward, crouching by the corpse, inspecting what she could, and found an answer to that, and another troubling question.

  “It’s done, then,” Zachary said over her head, sounding as weary as she felt. Perhaps he felt the weight of the dead, too.

  “No more surjusi.” Arrow nodded.

  “We never found where Marianne was for four months.”

  “I believe she was already dead, not long after she hired that vehicle in Hallveran.”

  “Explain, please.” Zachary crouched beside her.

  “I wondered how this thing survived so long. The surjusi should have killed the human long ago. Too much for a human body.” She glanced across and found that, once again, he perfectly understood. “But there are Erith spells to preserve matter. In particular there is an Erith spell which is meant to preserve remains so that the family might say their goodbyes.” She pointed to the dead thing and the rune carved into his chest. “Like that. Only it would have been invisible normally. I speculate that it was carved there to combat the surjusi taint. A marking like that on Marianne Stillwater would have preserved her remains for months.”

  “We didn’t see the magician carving anything onto her.” Zachary rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, rising to his feet.

  “Spells can be spoken, too,” she reminded him, rising as well, pressing a hand to her ribs as they twinged, and regretting it at once as a fierce stab shot through her.

  Zachary’s face was drawn as he followed her reasoning, probably remembering, like her, that there had been no sound with the reconstruction spell and it was impossible to know if or what the shadowed form had spoken on the mountain
. She also kept to herself that a few minutes with Marianne’s body would have confirmed the spell. They might have known, much sooner, the correct time of Marianne’s death. Four months since Marianne had found the Rowan residence in Hallveran and run herself half to death across the mountain. Heading for Zachary. It was the only explanation that made sense. Chased. Hunted. And killed so close to her goal.

  “Dead before we knew she was missing. We might still not have found her.” Zachary was grim, glaring at the body in front of him as though he wanted to kill it again. “I’ve had searchers out.” A few of the ‘kin twitched, ducking their eyes, embarrassed by their failure, a feeling Arrow was deeply familiar with. “I’ve not been pleased at the lack of finding. An impossible task. Impossible to track a dead woman.” The ‘kin settled, faces set.

  “I am sorry that there are no better answers,” she said.

  “At least we have some.” He turned slightly to face her, and she mirrored him, face to face. “You will convey to the Taellan in whatever terms that they will understand that we will have an accounting from the Erith as to how Erith magic came to be used to kill our mate and violate our territory.” It was not Zachary speaking but the Prime, his power coiling out.

  “Prime, it will be done.” Arrow made a small bow before she could check the motion, Erith Court manners ingrained.

  “And you will tell the Taellan that we have come to value your service.” He was still speaking as the Prime. Her jaw dropped. “We would be extremely displeased to find that anything had happened to you.”

  She closed her jaw, words failing her, and simply bowed again, eyes pricking with unexpected tears. Valued. And an unsubtle offer of protection. An invisible yet tangible net that the Erith dare not ignore. Her throat tightened. The Prime understood far too much about the way that the Erith thought and operated if he knew, so clearly, how vulnerable her position was.

  “The mage is under our charge,” Kallish said unexpectedly. Xeveran had clearly given her a translation. Arrow turned to stare at the warrior, astonished, and caught the edges of a straight look between Kallish and Zachary. Across races and language barriers they somehow understood each other perfectly, Kallish making a graceful, shallow bow and Zachary dipping his chin in respect. Arrow frowned, not quite sure what had gone on.

  Around them the White Guard held their ground, alert and on watch despite the taint creeping through them. None were wholly taken over. The few struck by mage fire had countered it, not without cost. There were injuries of flesh and blood, too. All would survive. How well was a question for another day.

  The ‘kin were equally battered, including the two in animal form, the same set, determined expression on their faces. Holding ground, waiting for orders.

  An old White Guard saying crossed her mind. The battle is done. Take the win. Trouble will find you soon enough.

  For now she set aside the future, the likely fury of the Taellan, the possibility of discovery of her own secrets, so long held, the probability that there was another dangerous magician still alive. All would come in time. All for another day. Today they had held.

  She drew a long breath, ache of healing bones catching her again, eyes gritty from lack of sleep and using so much power, throat tight with the echo of the loss she had felt on the mountain. A strong-willed, vibrant woman, too curious for her own good, had died to lead them here. Arrow had found her killer. The promise was kept. In the privacy of her own mind she offered an Erith blessing for the dead and saw, shifting in the shadow, the ghost of a chocolate brown wolf with bright eyes who winked at her and padded away, disappearing into nothing.

  There would be questions. An investigation. The Preceptor would want to inspect this place himself, to understand how a surjusi could come so close to the Erith border. The White Guard would want to know how Descendants could form a conspiracy under their watch. The Queen herself would need to be involved, to be fully informed. The Taellan would doubtless want to shout at her for some imagined misdeed. Eshan was probably already plotting her next unpleasant task. Cleaning spiders out of what remained of his archives, perhaps, once Evellan was done with her here.

  But the Prime had offered her his protection, the protection of the Erith’s old enemies. She would live.

  And for now, she was whole in mind and nearly whole in body. She would heal. The day had been won. She was alive. It was enough.