Eve of Destruction
Page 29
Eve turned to her suitcase and backpack. She’d almost left both when they fled from the scene of the wreckage earlier. The extra clothing she could easily do without, and the school books in her pack seemed less relevant than ever. Maltus’s spellbook and her mother’s journal where in there too, but she never wanted to see either of those—
She frowned as she stared into the half-open pack and saw the familiar binding of the journal. “Oh, drek.”
Zach looked over at her. “What?”
“The journal—you remember that page we were looking at on the train?”
“Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about it.”
She pulled out the book and tried to find the page. It took a few moments, but eventually the two of them were looking at the odd script once again. It didn’t make any more sense than it had the last time.
“Too bad the Avenshal isn’t gifted with the ability to read Agean,” she muttered.
“What was that?” Danev asked. He’d taken off his overcoat and was inspecting his wounds.
“We found a strange page in the journal while we were on the train,” Eve told him. “It looks like a short message, but I think it’s written in Agean.”
His entire body seemed to stiffen. “Do you mind if I have a look?”
“Why not?” she murmured as she walked over and handed him the book.
“You speak Agean?” Zach asked.
“Speak? No—it’s been a dead language for a long, long time. I used to be able to read and write it pretty well back in college, though.”
Eve pursed her lips and tried to ignore the chill suddenly working its way down her spine. “Was it some secret thing the Seven used back at Valmeri?”
He snorted as he looked over the page. “Hardly. I was the only one who took courses in it.”
Eve turned to look at Zach, and she could tell he had come to the same conclusion. Take my journal to Gregori Danev, her mother had written in the cryptic note back home. The only one of the Seven who could read the script, and here they were with him…
“’Eve, by now you realize what you are, but you cannot lose hope,’” Danev read softly. “’There are choices to be made, and I have faith you will make me proud. But right now, you need to run. Beware of…’”
“If it cuts off there I’m going to shoot myself,” Zach muttered.
Danev shook his head and turned towards the woods. “Beware the eyes of the Eclipse.”
Eve’s mouth fell open. “Aram?”
A distant scream echoed across the forest.
Chapter Twenty
The trees might have been spread sparsely out here in the western plains, but Shaedra could still feel their life energy resonating across the Fane. Their presence—and that of all the grass and flora here—was like a soft buzzing in the back of her mind. It had been a while since she’d stood in a place so open and teeming with life, and she’d almost forgotten the intensity of the sensation.
It was different than standing amidst a city full of humans somehow. This was…primal, pure. The wilderness had no pretense, no endless pulse of desperation. It simply lived, and that was enough.
Her shoulder and arm throbbed again, and she winced despite herself. She’d wondered if perhaps getting away from the others and standing out here alone would help her heal. She was surrounded by more energy than she could possibly use, but it didn’t seem to matter. Apparently the bits of cellium still lodged in her flesh weren’t beaten so easily.
Shaedra closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the cool night air as it blew through her tattered clothing and chilled her skin. She leaned against a tree and was half-asleep when the sending stone at her wrist began to hum softly.
She glared down at it and frowned. There was only one reason Maltus would be contacting her again so soon. The Enclave must have contacted him, which meant…
She tapped the crystal and it floated free from its sheath. “I take it they already knew?”
“Yes,” his voice came back gravely. “They’ve been tracking your movements somehow. They knew about the train right after it happened, and they believe it’s the sign they’ve been waiting for. They’re going to kill Eve.”
“I don’t see how they could have tracked us,” she told him. “They must have had an agent on the train.”
“I got the distinct impression they’ve been following your movements for a while. I don’t know how, but it means their people are undoubtedly close. Don’t let Eve out of your sight for a moment until I get there.”
Shaedra nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “What about you? It doesn’t sound like they’re just going to let you go.”
“They already tried to stop me—and Jean. We’re okay, but we’re getting out of here right now. Assuming we’re still able to board the train in the morning, we should be there in a few days.”
“Danev wants us to go back to Cadotheia,” she said. “Eve is convinced Chaval wants her to Defile. She thinks he wants her to cause another Kalavan that he can use to rally the torbos, and that’s why he wants us close. But Cadotheia might be the only place we can avoid the Enclave.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Maltus replied darkly. “They’re not going to wait for the election. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already in position to take action.”
“We could wait here in the plains. Or we could try to make it to Vaschberg instead.”
“No, go to Cadotheia. It’s still the best alternative. Once we’ve rendezvoused, we can decide what to do.”
Shaedra raised an eyebrow at the floating crystal. “You’re going to confront Chaval, aren’t you? You and your Valmeri friends.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Just keep her safe, Shaedra. In the end, she’s the only thing that matters here.”
“So you don’t think there’s even a chance that the Enclave is right? That she should be destroyed here and now before it gets worse?”
“No,” he told her. “That won’t happen.”
She grunted. “I hope you’re right.”
“So do I.”
The crystal flickered and descended back into the metal band, and she shook her head. It was impressive how much Maltus, normally such a shrewd and calculating man, was letting emotions cloud his judgment. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Parents often acted foolishly to protect their children, blood-related or otherwise.
Shaedra just hoped the girl was made of sterner stuff than it seemed. It she didn’t come around shortly, if she couldn’t demonstrate that she was willing to accept her power for what it was and learn to control it…
Well, then Shaedra would have to be the one to do something about it. She wasn’t bound by the same emotional entanglements as Maltus.
Or was she?
Her last few conversations with Alex popped into her head. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this at all, and the truth was that she couldn’t, either. Maltus wanted her here, but that wasn’t reason enough by itself. He didn’t control her. He couldn’t force her to be here.
And yet she’d stayed anyway. She’d risked her life—such as it was—to protect this girl. But why? Why did she want to help Eve so damn much? Why did she want the girl to understand?
“I’m surprised you didn’t stumble into any of my traps,” Aram said from behind her.
Shaedra spun on a heel. She hadn’t even felt the man’s presence as he’d approached. Had she really been that distracted, or was her wound affecting her more than she thought?
“I didn’t find any,” she said. “You must not have done a very good job.”
He was only ten meters away, and the moonlight glinted off his gray eyes. To an untrained observer, he probably didn’t look much, if any, different than normal. To her Vakari senses, however, the difference was quite literally night and day. She still couldn’t sense his life energy in the Fane even though he was standing right in front of her. If she didn’t know better, he could have been another spirit like Alex come to torment her.
Shaedra didn’t gasp or stagger or do anything else to signal her epiphany. Instead she just stared directly at him as all the pieces fell neatly into place.
“Danev has no idea you’re still an Enclave snitch, does he?” she asked.
The man’s cheek twitched fractionally and he shifted his weight. “Doubtful.”
“And here I thought he seemed like the perceptive type.”
“He is,” Aram said. “But I’ve given him two years of loyal service, and he has no reason to doubt me.”
“So you’ve been with him this whole time, just waiting for the moment when the Avenshal would be placed in his care?”
He grunted. “Of course not. I was here to keep an eye on him. He used to be one of the Enclave’s most reliable informants in this region, but then a few years ago he stopped sending reports. The Council became…concerned.”
“Because they thought he might have started working for Chaval,” she reasoned. “Still, that’s a lot of time and effort just for one man.”
“I’m not here to talk about Danev,” Aram said flatly. “It’s your loyalty I’m most curious about. We trained you—we made you into what you are. We gave your…life…a purpose despite your nature. Yet you’ve turned your back on everyone except for Magister Maltus.”
“Don’t worry—he doesn’t like me either,” Shaedra replied snidely. “And you have an overinflated opinion of your masters. They may have created me, but not in the way you think.”
“I know all about you and your kind. Baroness Shaedra Nafal, a brilliant theoretician and perhaps the most gifted mage in all of Vakar. When your country was doomed, you chose to Defile instead of listening to reason—and you damned your people because of it.”
“Reason?” she hissed. “You mean letting my countrymen die while the Enclave sat and watched?”
“The Enclave is beyond petty torbo concerns like borders and nations. We are magi—we are the Hands of Edeh, chosen to protect the Fane from those who would Defile it.”
“Even if that means watching entire nations suffer and die?”
Aram shrugged. “Death is a part of life. Our concern has always been about the bigger picture, about the future of the world as a whole. Vakar the nation might have fallen to the Lesseks, but its people and its traditions would have lived on…at least for a while. Instead you slaughtered them and created monsters in their place.”
“Is this your grand scheme to get me to help you?” Shaedra asked. “To stand there and defend the actions of magisters who died three centuries before you were born?”
“The Council was convinced you weren’t worth the time,” Aram told her. “I wanted to make certain. You are able to see what Danev and Maltus are not—the girl is evil, and Abalor’s corruption burns inside of her. If she is not stopped, she will destroy everything.”
“Maybe,” Shaedra murmured. “But she deserves a chance to prove herself. She’s only now realizing her potential. What if you could turn her into a weapon? What if she is the key to winning this war against Chaval?”
He snorted. “Please. Chaval may have been able to sway the torbo legions to his side, but they are no match for the Fane. If we have to burn his factories to the ground to prove it to them, then so be it.”
Shaedra shook her head. “You know, I think I underestimated you. You really are the same as your predecessors—just as arrogant, just as righteous. It’s said that the Kirshal herself created the Enclave as guardians of the people. I wonder at what point you lost touch with them.”
“So I assume that’s your answer?” Aram asked. He didn’t move or shift or anything so obvious, but she could see his muscles tensing beneath his jacket. “You will turn against the Enclave just like Maltus?”
“To turn against someone, you would have had to join them at some point,” she said. “I won’t help your masters assassinate a young girl before she’s able to prove herself. And I won’t let you harm her, either.”
His lip twisted into a sneer. “As if you could stop me.”
Shaedra flexed her good hand and took a step towards him. “Do you have a secret stash of cellium you’ve been hiding? If not, then I think you might be in trouble.”
“I don’t need trick bullets to kill a monster,” he said, flicking his wrist. A shimmering barrier of translucent blue energy flashed into existence and encased his body. “I’ve slain others of your kind when they became disobedient. You will be no different.”
Shaedra took a step back and summoned her own armor of magic. The two of them glowed like brilliant blue torches against the darkness of the forest.
“They say you used to be powerful, but I wonder how much of that has atrophied,” Aram taunted. “It is part of your curse, isn’t it? Invincibility has decayed your mind and reflexes like a wasting disease.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
Shaedra leapt towards him, hissing as the hunger flared up inside her, anticipating an easy kill—
Except he was no longer there. She crouched as she landed, sweeping her gaze about to try and find him…
“It’s such an easy thing to deceive the eyes,” his voice called, seemingly from all around her. “It’s a trick I learned from Gregori, actually. He’s really quite gifted.”
She ground her teeth together and called another spell to mind. The Fane coursed through her again, and a barely visible pulse of magic rippled outward from her body like water pierced by a stone. It should have been enough to unravel any lingering spells nearby and dispel his illusion…
“Even he wouldn’t be able to hide from you, though,” Aram went on, still invisible. “Illusions aren’t enough to fool a Vakari, as you well know. For that, it takes something…special.”
Shaedra barely had time to turn before a blinding flash of energy struck her squarely in the torso. The impact hurled her backwards until she smashed into the trunk of a tree. She growled as the tattered remains of her clothing burned away in a blue spectral fire, and she patted it frantically to try and put it out.
Aram snorted derisively. “They say that no magic can harm a Vakari, but we both know that isn’t true. The Fane touches all living creatures, even those with barely a spark inside of them.”
“You really are a coward, just like all the magisters,” she snapped as the flames finally died away. Her skin blistered and burned, but those wounds would heal quickly enough. “Stand and fight me if you’re so powerful.”
“I never had any intention of fighting you,” Aram told her. “Why would any bodyguard throw away his best weapon?”
Another surge of energy flashed from the darkness of the forest, and again Shaedra couldn’t evade it in time. Her muscles froze and she dropped to her knees, but it wasn’t the electricity crackling through her body that worried her—it was the subtle magic hidden underneath.
She cried out as the spell struck at her one and only true weakness—the hunger raging in her soul. The magic teased it, tempted it, as if it were dangling a fresh meal right in front of her. It suddenly felt as if she hadn’t fed in weeks or months, and she knew that within moments she would no longer be able to control it.
“I don’t even need to stay here,” Aram said. “I could just walk away and let you finish the job. You’re an animal, a beast ruled by a primal instinct you cannot control. You’ll kill them all just to sate yourself, but it won’t work. Nothing will.”
Shaedra clawed at her temples, at the madness stirring in her mind. If she could just focus enough, if she could just remember all of her old spells, perhaps she could dispel his magic before it was too late…
But no, already her thoughts had twisted into an indecipherable blur. The spells would flash in her mind but then disappear just as quickly, and the magic died at her fingertips. She was lost, feral, cons
umed by madness and hunger.
And she would destroy them all.
***
Eve crept through the forest, praying the entire time she didn’t step in one of the traps Aram had supposedly set out here. Perhaps he’d been lying about that—after all, what purpose would they have served? He knew full well the Enclave wouldn’t be sending anyone after them. Their agent had apparently been with them this entire time, lying in wait to strike when she finally demonstrated her powers.
She had countless questions about the entire thing, but for now she’d buried them away in the recesses of her mind. She was amassing quite an impressive collection back there, and perhaps soon she could finally get some answers.
If they survived.
The moonlight, though pale, proved sufficient for them to navigate through the sparse trees, but they hadn’t seen any signs of battle ahead since the second flash of magic at least a minute ago. Eventually Danev signaled with his hand for them to stop, and he squinted out towards a tree perhaps thirty meters away.
“Stay…back,” a hoarse voice croaked from up ahead. The accent clearly marked it as Shaedra, but it sounded deeper, almost…bestial.
Danev’s brow furrowed. They were supposed to have been nearly invisible—he said he had wrapped them in an illusion to deepen the shadows around the forest wherever they went. Apparently that wasn’t enough to slip past the Vakari.
After a few seconds of silence, the illusionist shuffled over to the side and held out his hand for them to remain where they were. Once he was about ten meters away, he stood up and leaned on his cane.
“Shaedra?” he asked. “Where’s Aram?”
“Here…hiding,” she rasped back. “You need to leave. Now.”
“We already know about him. There was a hidden message in the journal that said—”
“Run!” the Vakari screamed. “Now!”
Eve forced herself to swallow and take a deep breath. Being out here at all was dangerous enough—she fully expected Aram to leap from a bush and strangle her at any moment. But something in Shaedra’s voice caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. What had happened to her? What could a single man, even one as skilled as Aram, have possibly done to a Vakari?