“Even Maltus isn’t convinced of what she is,” she replied meekly.
Alex snorted. “He knows; he just doesn’t want to admit it to himself. What I don’t understand is why you are just as blinded by emotion as he is. You don’t owe anything to this girl, so why not kill her? Why take the chance? It’s just one more life to add to your collection. You don’t even have to feed on her if you don’t want to. The others can threaten you all they want, but they can’t actually harm you. Finish this now, while you still can!”
Shaedra opened her eyes. The tears remained, but they no longer burned. She glanced back towards the flickering campfire in the distance. Through the sparse forest she could make out the others sitting there, huddled together in fear for what the future was going to bring. First Chaval had been after them, and now the Enclave would be coming too. Civil war might not have come to Arkadia just yet, but already they were standing at the brink of a dark precipice.
“I wonder,” Shaedra whispered, “would you be willing to sacrifice her if it meant losing magic forever?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“War is coming, one way or another. There’s no guarantee the Dusties won’t win, and if they do, do you really think Chaval will allow the Enclave to survive?”
“As if he could kill us all,” Alex scoffed. “Some will escape—”
“What if he does?” she pressed. “The revolution won’t end here, you know. Eventually it will spread to other places like Talam and even Esharia. If he can defeat them here, what makes you think the rest will be able to stop him? Once the knowledge is destroyed, once all of the books and tomes are burned, there will be nothing left. It will be lost forever.”
“That won’t happen and you know it.”
“But what if it does? Would you sacrifice the magi just to end this threat?”
“You’re speaking nonsense.”
Shaedra turned back to face him. “She might be the only chance the magi have of winning this war. Did you ever consider that? She could be the weapon we need.”
“Playing with fire,” he murmured. “You took that chance once, and look what it cost you. You’re really willing to do so again?”
Shaedra sighed softly and stood. “I don’t know.”
She lumbered towards the camp and left him behind. Mercifully, he didn’t follow. She expected the others to say something when she approached, but they barely even acknowledged her presence. Eve and Zach sat huddled together near the fire, speaking in hushed whispers. Danev gingerly rustled through some of his belongings—his wounds had been treated with magic, but they would still take several days to fully heal. Aram, for his part, stood a few meters away, staring almost vacantly at the flames.
“How do you feel?” Danev finally asked after a few moments.
“Not a question I’ve been asked often,” she muttered as she squatted down on the grass. “I’m still a little surprised you didn’t leave me to rot on that boxcar.”
“The thought crossed my mind,” Aram said without turning.
Danev’s eyes flicked briefly to his bodyguard, then back to Shaedra. “I’ve never seen actual cellium in action before. I always assumed the stuff was just an Enclave myth.”
“It’s rare enough it might as well be,” she told him. “The real question is how in the void Chaval got his hands on some.”
Danev nodded but didn’t reply. The implications were ominous enough they didn’t need to be spoken.
Cellium was a chemical compound created from the fusion of raw varium crystal and a number of other metals, most notably silver. The expense of even a single bullet was prohibitive enough—probably several thousand drakes worth of varium alone—but the creation process was ostensibly an Enclave secret. It was also the only true leash they ever had on the Vakari.
Shaedra had no idea how the magisters had discovered the substance in the first place, but she did know it was about the only thing in the world outside of a few obscure weaving techniques that could actually harm her. The rumor was that cellium coated bullets—or arrowheads, sword blades, or anything else—could pierce even the strongest mage’s kinetic barriers. It was one of several obvious reasons the Enclave had kept the secret of its creation under wraps for so long.
Until now, apparently.
“I can only assume he bribed someone in the Enclave to share the formula with him,” Shaedra said after a few moments. “We just better hope he doesn’t have a bunch of spare varium sitting around in a hidden mine somewhere.”
“No one in the Enclave would share that secret with anyone, least of all a Dusty,” Aram told her. “Not for all the drakes in Ebara.”
Shaedra grunted. “Your naivety would almost be cute if you weren’t a bodyguard.”
He finally twisted to face her, his eyes as cold as normal. “You really think they would risk selling such a powerful weapon?”
“There is no ‘they.’ The Enclave is made up of individuals, just like any other group. All it takes is one of their little magisters to crack and you have a problem.” She shrugged. “Look at what Maltus has done. The Council isn’t nearly as unified as they want people to think.”
“Regardless, it’s not particularly relevant to our current predicament,” Danev said, steering them back on track. “There’s nothing we can do about it either way, and we have plenty of our own problems to contend with. I just need to know if you’re still able to travel.”
“I can walk,” she assured him. “The question is which way we’re going.”
The white-coated man took in a deep breath. “There’s only one real option: we head back to Cadotheia.”
“What?” Zach gasped, turning to face them from across the campfire. “You can’t be serious.”
“Vaschberg is at least four hundred kilometers away,” Danev said. “We’re not going to walk that far.”
“Forget walking—there has to be a town or village or something nearby.”
“You might be surprised,” Aram told him. “The western plains are pretty empty in between the major cities. It’s mostly farmland and a few scattered villages.”
“So we find one and buy some horses or send a cable to your people,” Zach insisted. “I mean, you do have people who could help us out, right?”
“Less than I would like,” Danev murmured. “But even being generous with conditions, you’re still talking about the better part of a week on horseback—and that’s assuming we don’t get lost. If Simon really didn’t want us to leave the city, he’ll be watching the roads, so that would make the trip even longer.”
“It’s still better than walking straight into his clutches. If he knew we were leaving town last time, he’ll know the moment we head back in.”
Danev shrugged. “Maybe, but he didn’t bother last time we were in the city, and I don’t think he will this time, either. He wants us there, for some reason, and he wants Eve alive—his men on the train proved that. We need to figure out why.”
“Because I am the Avenshal,” Eve said softly. She sat huddled in a ball leaning against her suitcase, the campfire flickering in her amber eyes. “I will bring about the destruction of the magi and the death of the Fane.”
Zach turned to face her. “Eve—”
“That’s why he wanted me to have the journal,” she went on without looking at him. “That’s the entire reason he’s interested in me.”
“Except that according to your mother’s visions, you will destroy the Dusties, too,” Danev pointed out. “You will end the civil war and presumably kill Simon in the process. Even if not, I can’t imagine he would care about ruling over a world of ashes.”
“You’re missing the point,” Shaedra said, her eyes narrowing. It had taken awhile for her to work it all through, but it was finally starting to click into place. “He thinks he can control her. He can use her power to turn the country against the magi, just like he did after Kalavan. He wants her close so he can watch her.”
Eve nodded slowly. “Once th
e magi are gone, he’ll have won. Factories can be rebuilt, but the Fane cannot. Once he’s convinced the torbos to unite and destroy all of our collected knowledge, then his industry will be all that’s left—and he’ll be the one that controls it.”
“That’s insane, even for him,” Zach muttered. “He’s an opportunist, not a nihilist.”
Shaedra shrugged. “Men do foolish things out of spite. You said yourself the Enclave scorned Chaval while he was at the academy—the magi turned against him, and ever since he’s lead a crusade to bring them down. Is this really that far-fetched to think all he really cares about is revenge?”
“I don’t know,” Danev murmured. “Maybe not.”
“Either way, it still means going to Cadotheia is a terrible idea,” Zach growled. “We should get as far away from him as possible.”
“Chaval isn’t our only problem,” Shaedra said. “At this point the Enclave will be searching for us, too. It’s only a matter of time before they learn what has happened, and the moment they do they will try to kill or capture Eve. Cadotheia might be the safest place to hide from them.”
Zach rubbed at his brow and sighed. “This is…”
“My fault,” Eve whispered. She still hadn’t moved. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you come with me. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this...any of you.”
“Let’s dispense with the self-pity and focus on the actual problem,” Shaedra grumbled. “Either we head to Cadotheia and try to avoid Chaval, or we make our way to Vaschberg and worry about the Enclave.”
Zach sighed. “Fine. We’ll turn back around and hope Maltus brings a miracle with him.”
A thick silence fell over the camp. Zach tried to sit down next to Eve but she pushed him away. Aram continued to stare blankly at the fire, and Danev idly rubbed at his moustache. When none of them seemed willing to broach the other, even more important issue at hand, Shaedra finally sighed and stood.
“In the meantime,” she said, “I think it’s finally time for you to accept what you are and work to control it.”
Eve glanced up with a look that bundled hate, fear, and resignation all in one. “What do you expect me to do? What do you expect me to say?”
“I want you to recognize that there’s no hiding from this. Not anymore. You’ve killed now—you’ve whet your appetite. The hunger is only going to grow, and you need to learn to control it.”
“You make it sound like I wanted to kill them,” Eve hissed. “I didn’t. I just…reacted. I don’t take some sick, twisted pleasure in killing. I’m not you.”
“No,” Shaedra whispered. “You’re much worse…or you will be eventually. Maybe you’re not really the Avenshal—maybe you’re just a savant who picked all this up like it was second nature. But either way, ignoring your potential isn’t the answer. You can either sit here and choose to ignore your gift and then lash out uncontrollably the next time something sets you off…or you can accept it for what it is and learn to control it.”
“You can’t be serious,” Aram interjected, spinning around to face her. “The power of the Avenshal is evil. It is a taint spread by a dying god. There is no controlling something so vile.”
“Your only other choice is to kill her,” Shaedra said flatly, “and I don’t think any of us want to do that. Personally, I don’t think sticking my fingers in my ears and pretending it isn’t real will solve anything.”
“I’m never going to weave again,” Eve breathed. “That’s the only solution.”
“That’s not a solution. It’s cowardice, pure and simple.”
“No one asked for your opinion,” Zach hissed. “In fact, no one asked for you to be here at all.”
“Tara DeShane misused her power once,” Shaedra went on, ignoring him. “She unleashed a revolution whose devastation still tears at the Fane. But instead of learning from her mistake and trying to correct it, she hid herself away. She did nothing to counteract what she had started. Now she’s dead, and we’re about to be thrown into a civil war that could destroy everything.”
“Shut up!” Eve screamed as she leapt to her feet. “Get away from me!”
Shaedra snorted. “You can run from your destiny or you can make it. If you choose to run, then the Enclave is right: you aren’t worth saving.”
She turned and lumbered off into the woods.
***
Eve glared into the darkness where Shaedra had disappeared into the forest. A part of her wanted to lash out, to try and burn away what was left of the mangled Vakari just so she would go away and keep her mouth shut. But of course, that instinct only vindicated what Shaedra had been trying to tell her for days, and it was why her words stung so much.
They were true. At least partially.
Eve had lived a sheltered life in Lushden, perhaps even more than the average child of magi. Her parents made enough money that they’d never had to worry about much of anything, and she’d always been able to attend quality schools and be surrounded by good students. She had lived in a safe, comfortable world of ideas and reason.
The problem was that she never really learned how to feel. Maybe that explained why she had so much trouble dealing with Zach since he’d returned. She was still a child in that regard; nothing in her life had ever forced her to grow up. Her father’s death many years ago had been devastating, but the experience had eventually taught her how to grieve and accept loss. She’d never had a similar experience with anger, and she’d never truly faced any serious danger.
Until now. Perhaps it was the reason she’d never noticed her…gift…before. Back in Vaschberg at the Calio, she’d reacted to a threat by summoning magic she had no business understanding. Then today, she had done the same, only on a grander and more destructive scale. What would happen the next time she was confronted? What if the Enclave caught up to them and she had to defend herself? What if Chaval came after them again?
What if she Defiled without even knowing it?
She turned away from the shadow of the forest’s edge and took a deep breath. Perhaps the one thing she’d been sheltered from more than anything else was simple doubt. For almost twenty years she’d lived a life of absolutely certainty. She had known that her parents would take care of her—she had known that she would study the Fane and become a mage. And she had known that the Dusties were evil and the magi were good.
Now nothing in her life held that kind of certainty. She didn’t know who she should hate more, Chaval or the Enclave. She didn’t know if she could trust one of her oldest friends, Mr. Maltus. She didn’t know if she really was going to destroy the world. She didn’t even know if any of them would live to see another day.
Actually, she did know one thing. No matter what happened, Zach would still be right there with her to the bitter end. Maybe it wasn’t much, but right now, as she turned to look up at him, it was enough.
“So what are the odds that some big predator will eat her while she’s out there?” Zach said after a few minutes of silence.
“Nothing in the forest but weeds and trees,” Aram said. “Besides, not many beasts will get close to a Vakari.”
“So ‘low’ is what you’re saying,” Zach muttered, plopping back down on the ground. “I figured we wouldn’t be so lucky.”
“I’d be more worried about Chaval’s people. In fact, I might as well take another look around and secure the area.”
Danev glanced up to him. “I thought you already set up some traps earlier?”
“A few,” the Eclipsean said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the spot where Shaedra left. “She might walk right into them.”
“Hopefully you laced them with cellium or whatever you called that stuff,” Zach replied as he leaned his head back on his bag.
Aram grunted. “I’ll go check and see if I can secure it any better. You should get some sleep—we’ll need to leave at dawn.”
He wandered off, and Zach snorted softly. “Somehow I doubt any of us are going to sleep much.”
Eve
sighed and turned to face Danev. “You know, you’ve never really said what you thought about this whole thing.”
The man cocked an eyebrow. “I think I was pretty vocal about the fact we should head back into the city.”
“Not that. I mean what happened on the train…and about mom’s visions.”
He pursed his lips. “What I think is that we still don’t have enough information, and I’m loath to draw conclusions in a vacuum.”
“That’s not much of an answer,” Zach said. “Do you believe in this prophecy or not?”
“I told you before I believed in Tara’s power,” Danev explained. “But I also like to think that she was given this gift for a reason, and I doubt Edeh is so petty that she just wanted to torment your mother with nightmares about her only child. There’s a way out of this mess—there always is if you know where to look.”
“What about the train?” Eve asked. “It doesn’t bother you that I killed three people?”
“Considering they shot me once and then tried to kill me a second later…my sympathy for them is rather low,” he said. “You defended yourself in a difficult situation, and no one who died didn’t deserve it. The same goes for the ones Aram and Shaedra dealt with.”
Eve swallowed heavily. “But?”
“But…I would be lying if I said it didn’t concern me at all. Not many magi can wield the type of power you showed, even among the experienced magisters. For a nineteen year-old who hasn’t taken the Oath Rituals…”
“So you think it’s true, then,” Eve said. “I am the Avenshal.”
“Maybe, but like I said—we don’t have all the facts. Once Glenn arrives and we can pool our resources, I’m hopeful we can figure something out.” He sighed and leaned down against his pack. “For now, Aram was right: we should try and get some sleep. It’s not going to be an easy trip.”
Eve of Destruction Page 28
