Heart racing, he moved his hands up and down, feeling the ropes bite into his skin. Ignoring the pain, he continued until his skin was slick with blood. The clouds were now close enough for him to see. They swirled and tumbled through the air.
"Enlil, hear me," Hiroc whispered. His hands grew hot, and he pulled against the bonds. They melted away. He quickly removed the ropes around his ankles.
When he turned around, his heart almost leaped from his chest.
A hand made of mist extended toward Oswin. It reached into his open mouth and disappeared. The night suddenly became dark. There were no more crimson clouds. The wards were too far behind them to give off anything more than the faintest light.
Hiroc started as Oswin coughed and gargled before making a retching noise. His eyes burst with crimson light as he screamed. The screaming stopped. Oswin's eyes burned like hot coals. He turned his head toward Hiroc and grinned. Red light glowed through his teeth.
Hiroc raised a gloved hand to his friend. He closed his eyes. "Enlil, hear my prayer."
41
Edoma
Edoma dipped a cloth into a bucket of water and began washing Saega's face. The water soon became murky from his sores. He seemed to have aged greatly in the last week. Even the threads of white hair that once clung to his head were gone. He looked like death would come for him at any moment. But he had said he would be capable of bringing the dragon back. She believed him—she didn't have a choice.
She considered using healing wards, against his will, but thought otherwise. Doing so, even if it was for a good cause, was too much like what the mages in Mundos had done with their magic.
"I'll begin the warding process. Try not to move." The dragon blood was more precious than anything else. Now that Sigebert and Cenred had been gone for so long, she was sure they had perished. It was only Saega who could save them now by bringing back more dragon blood.
She glanced up and caught sight of Idmaer's Spire, creeping over the other buildings in the eastern part of the town. Cursing herself for allowing Idmaer to enter her mind, she tried in earnest not to think about what they'd found in the First Priest's tomb. Or rather, what they hadn't found. She had wanted so desperately to storm over to the spire and demand Idmaer return it to her. When she was younger, she would have done exactly that, but age had brought her wisdom, and she knew not to act while in the throes of anger. Perhaps she had remained here because of a sliver of hope that Idmaer hadn't stolen the grimoire.
Edoma removed a brush from her pocket, dabbed it into the blood vial, and dragged the first line across Saega's cheek. His expression remained placid until she finished. She tapped spiritsoul, channeled it through the runestone, and navigated it along the bloodied ward. The magic penetrated the ward and illuminated it.
A great darkness washed over her. She shivered. The feeling had never come like that before when warding. She reasoned that the dark feeling was because Saega was a mage. But Hiroc hadn't felt like this. It felt wrong, evil. Like a disease. Could it have come from his sickness? It would explain why he hadn't wanted healing—healing wards would be unable to treat a magical disease.
"This is strange," Saega said, as though he hadn't noticed Edoma's sudden fear. "Sulith's magic is less . . . uncomfortable."
His voice brought her back to reality. The wards glowed crimson, illuminating the open wounds on his face. They festered and dripped with pus. "These sores don't look good. Are you sure I can't construct a healing ward?" She hoped he would say yes, if only to see whether his illness was indeed magical.
"No," Saega said, getting to his feet. "I don't have much time. As long as the wards last the night, they'll be sufficient." He pulled the cowl of his black robes over his head. "Before I leave, there's something else. I have been thinking of a way to broach the subject for most the day."
"You're not dying," Edoma said, refusing to believe what her eyes had been telling her every time she'd looked at him that day. "You must let me heal you."
He shook his head. "It's a simple fever. But that's not what I've come to tell you. Peoh is in Indham."
Edoma's vision wavered. It couldn't be true. She'd seen Peoh die in the Scorched Lands. Vigash, the orc chieftain, had given him to a wraith. She looked down at the runestone. It had been Peoh's parting gift to her. He had been a great devotee of Mun and had infused the runestone with much devotion. He had also been her first love. He couldn't be alive.
"He hides within Idmaer's dungeons," Saega said. "The acolyte, Ealstan, told me."
"Are you sure?"
Saega nodded. "It wasn't just Ealstan who spoke of a man with ward tattoos. Bertram advised me that he arrested a man bearing tattooed runes. The ward circle activated outside the gates when the man stepped on it. You don't believe me? Inspect the energies, and you'll feel it, too."
Edoma hadn't opened herself to the other-realm since she'd seen Alfric as a skinwalker. She didn't know whether she'd survive a second time. But she wasn't willing to take Saega's word for it. Not with this. If Peoh was inside Indham, then they might have finally found the person responsible for shattering Aern's orb.
She went to her chambers and flipped open the chest. By the time she had sat on the floor with the scrying crystal in front of her, Saega had come. He remained silent and watched as she cut herself and palmed the crystal with her bloody hand.
Her vision shifted until the room became gray. Her heart seemed to relish the return to the other-realm, as though it had been yearning to taste again of the strange sensory experiences.
She shifted focus to Saega, who burned with a gray light and smelled of honey. All mages smelled of honey. There was something else beneath that scent, though, a rancid odor that made her shiver.
She rose above the town, not flying, but something else entirely, a rapid shifting like someone blinking. In a moment, she was surveying all of Indham from a hundred feet above. Her stomach plummeted, and not from the height. Her power in the other-realm was weak from the other day, and she had reached the zenith of her abilities. Any longer and she might lose control entirely. She dropped a little, just to be safe.
She scanned the town for any fluctuations in her other-senses. Everything remained the same until she came upon a trail from the gates. Honey. As soon as she focused on it, the sweet scent burst. The feeling was euphoric. The golden trail led from the gates to Idmaer's Spire. Without realizing, she had drifted and was losing her grip on her other-self.
The other-realm whispered to her with sweet promises. She could remain here and keep an eye on Indham. Everything she had done so far had failed. She was an enemy of the man she had loved. One of her sons had become a skinwalker. The people she had adopted as her own would soon perish.
Nothing mattered. Not anymore.
Another figure materialized beside her. The necrotic stench almost overwhelmed her as she was torn from the other-realm.
Returning to her body, she rolled over and vomited. She wiped her mouth and looked to Saega. "You saved me."
"Nothing you wouldn't have done for me. When you were gone for so long, I thought you'd been trapped." With effort, he picked up the scrying crystal and put it back in the chest. "I see now why you were so hesitant to go there."
Edoma beckoned Saega out from the room and asked a passing Daughter to clean her chambers. They stopped outside where she had done the warding. She didn't want to waste any more time than she had to since his wards would only last a day, but she had to know more.
"Why would Idmaer be hiding Peoh within his dungeons?" she asked.
Saega shrugged. "Perhaps he has been consorting with the Archmage of Mundos."
"Idmaer wouldn't know how to do that. He would need a scrying crystal."
"Maybe he has something like a scrying crystal? There are many mysterious things within his spire." That was true. Edoma had barely been able to walk in Idmaer's room with all the obstructions. And there were many other rooms, some even more cramped than Idmaer's private chambers. "Or maybe he fo
und a way to speak across great distances from the book he stole."
"It might not have been him," Edoma said. "We don't know for certain. Someone could have stolen the medallion."
"You truly believe that? He has not removed it once since it was first placed around his neck. He treats the spire like a lover. Giving the medallion away would be like committing adultery."
Edoma couldn't argue with that. Idmaer treated the spire better than he had ever treated her.
But none of it made sense. If Peoh had shattered the orb, why had he returned? Why would Idmaer give him refuge? Maybe they had conspired together, but what would Idmaer have to gain from bringing destruction upon Indham?
There was much she didn't know about his intentions. After all, he had stolen the grimoire from the catacombs. She couldn't think of a reason he might have done that, and yet he had.
"Idmaer and Peoh must pay for their crimes," Saega said.
"That can wait," Edoma said. "Go to the enclosure now. We'll give you the fastest horse." She paused. Saega didn't look like he would be capable of riding a horse. "The fastest carriage."
"I will go, but the people need to see justice done. As soon as possible. They've been talking. I've heard them in the streets. They know that Aern no longer protects them. They might not know he's dead, but they think someone has done something to him. Some have sneaked past the guards at Tyme's Hill. They've seen the fake orb Idmaer's placed within the golden hands. They've seen the dull wards and the fallen pillars. Unless something is done soon, there'll be a riot. If the wraiths don't destroy Indham, the people will. I was wrong about justice not being important. I see the truth now. Justice will give our people life, at least until we find more permanent means.
"While I'm gone, you'll draw Idmaer out from the spire. Far enough away so that it cannot intervene on his behalf. Then we will force him to transfer ownership. Then we can bring Peoh to account for his crime. We just need someone he would be willing to leave the spire for . . ." Saega gave Edoma a meaningful look.
"You think I should be used for bait?"
"Can you think of any other reason he would leave?"
"He won't leave the spire for me."
"I wouldn't be so sure."
42
Hiroc
Heart pounding, Hiroc stumbled toward the gates of Enlil's Temple. He looked about him constantly, to the left, to the right, above. Everywhere, he searched for that crimson glow.
"Go no farther." Bertram was standing atop a makeshift palisade within the temple gates. Torches flickered next to him, illumining a dozen other warriors with their light. They all had arrows nocked to their bows and pointed them toward Hiroc. It was just his luck to have Bertram guarding the temple. Why wasn't he at the town gates?
"I'm not a skinwalker," Hiroc cried. When they didn't let down their bows, he stopped walking and glanced nervously behind him. There were no wraiths. For now. But the way Bertram held his bow suggested that he might let the arrow fly at any moment.
Hiroc needed to get inside the temple's warded zone. His heart couldn't take being outside any longer. He'd walked for an hour to get to the temple, constantly watching for wraith clouds.
Bertram glanced behind him. He said something to the other warriors, and they all dropped their bows.
Edoma appeared at the gates. "Come forward, Hiroc," she said.
As soon as Hiroc's feet planted on the wards, a cool energy rushed through him. The wards throbbed with a crimson light.
"Stay there," Edoma said. She nodded at Bertram, and he put another arrow to his bow.
The feeling suddenly became invasive. Ephemeral fingers crawled across Hiroc's flesh and reached into his mind. As soon as it had begun, it was over.
Edoma let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Well, I'm glad you're clean. I wouldn't have liked to kill you." She spoke evenly, as though she truly meant it.
He considered this woman, who so readily suggested she might have killed him. She was his mother, according to Ealstan. Seeing her now with new eyes, he realized the truth of it. He didn't think he looked much like her, but Alfric did. Had Alfric been born with black hair rather than blond hair, they would have shared an uncanny resemblance.
Hiroc's throat had become unusually dry. He didn't know whether to hug her or yell at her. He decided to do neither.
Edoma's gaze flittered down to the runic glove he was wearing. "Come inside and tell me where you've been."
Hiroc followed her into a small room with a table and cushioned armchairs. She lit the candle on the table and sat on a stool. "Why were you outside a warded zone?"
Still standing, Hiroc bristled at her accusatory tone. He couldn't stop what he said next. "Why did you lie to me about being Fatherless?"
Edoma's face paled. Her hand cupped her gaping mouth. "I . . ."
"I know everything. You and Idmaer are my parents. You lied to Alfric and me."
"We did what we had to," she said. He'd never seen her so afraid, but that didn't cool his fury.
"I don't want excuses. I'm not going to forgive you." Things would have been so different had he been raised as the child of Edoma and Idmaer. Alfric would never have gone off on that stupid quest. Hiroc wouldn't have been despised by the other acolytes. In fact, he probably would have one day seceded Idmaer as High Priest. He would never do that now. Even if Edoma told the truth, he was known as Fatherless. No one would believe her.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," Edoma said. "The past is done. Now, tell me why you risked the wraiths to come to the temple?"
The swiftness with which she had composed herself angered Hiroc further. How could she so quickly change the subject? He expected an excuse, even if it were a meager one. But she'd given nothing.
Hiroc looked down at his hands. He remembered the blue fire shooting from his palms. "I watched a wraith take Oswin. He changed immediately. I saw hatred in those eyes. I killed him myself."
"You killed the skinwalker?" She seemed to purposefully avoid calling it Oswin.
"With Enlil's fire." Hiroc pulled on one of the glove's fingers and removed it. "What will happen to his daughter?"
"I'll take her in. She can become a Daughter of Enlil, if she pleases."
"I killed her father."
Edoma shook her head. "That thing wasn't Oswin—no matter what it looked like. You cannot carry this weight on your conscience. You still haven't told me what you were doing outside a warded zone."
Edoma was the last person he wanted to speak with right now, but he had no one else.
"When I came back to the Basilica last night, I overheard Saega and Ealstan speaking. Saega said to 'deal with' the Fatherless. Later that night, Ealstan attacked me. He bound Oswin and me to a signpost. Evidently, that's how Saega wanted us dealt with."
"You must have misheard," said Edoma.
"I know what I heard. Saega and Ealstan are responsible for Oswin becoming a skinwalker. They're responsible for me . . ." There came the image of Oswin burning alive, his skin bubbling like hot soup. Hiroc tried to tell himself that it wasn't Oswin anymore, but it had looked so much like him.
"You did what you had to." Edoma placed her hand on Hiroc's.
Hiroc snarled. "Don't touch me." He despised Edoma for lying to him, but he had to tell her about what Ealstan had said.
"Before he left me for dead, Ealstan admitted that he and Saega wanted to kill a mage within the spire."
"Who?" she asked.
"Peoh?"
"Did they tell you that name?"
Hiroc told Edoma about how he had spoken with Peoh in the dungeons. He didn't tell her about his lesson in magic, but he did say how Peoh had offered them salvation.
"If Ealstan hadn't taken Oswin," he said, "I would have come right to you." And I never would have found out that you are my mother.
Edoma shook her head. "I believe Peoh is responsible for the shattering. Idmaer likely had a hand in it, too. There was a book within the First Priest's tomb—a grimoire. Idmaer stole it
. Inside were spells capable of destroying a Guardian."
"Idmaer wouldn't do such a thing," Hiroc said. He didn't know why he was defending Idmaer, but Idmaer had always been kind to Hiroc and encouraged him to become an acolyte. Edoma had always been stern and remote.
"He hides Peoh within his spire."
Hiroc was about to explain that Idmaer likely didn't even know about the existence of Peoh, when Edoma raised her hand to cut him off.
"Many years ago, I was born in Mundos. It's a city far to the north, beyond Babon's Pass and beyond the Scorched Lands. We had our Guardian, Mun, who protected us from the wraiths as Aern once did in Indham, but someone from the south came and destroyed Mun's orb. With Mun's protection lifted, eventually, the wraiths came.
"Peoh was the Archmage of Mundos. He gathered the few survivors—Saega and I were among them. We all swore to take revenge upon the south by destroying one of their orbs. Peoh gave Saega and me each a grimoire. We were to use it to destroy a southern orb. Jaruman tried to stop us from swearing the oath, but we didn't listen. But when we came to Indham, it wasn't long before we fell in love with its people. Saega and I abandoned our vow and burned the grimoires."
"So you think Peoh shattered Aern's orb because of a vow made years ago? That still doesn't explain why Idmaer would help him do it."
"Idmaer is a man of many secrets."
"That explains why you married him."
Edoma sighed. "Living alone in that spire has changed him. He doesn't care for Indham."
"He wouldn't kill Aern. Not if it meant the wraiths coming."
"Do you have any other explanation? Tell me what makes you trust Idmaer and Peoh so much?"
Hiroc couldn't say why. Maybe he was just hostile toward Edoma because she had lied to him all these years. He did have a habit of holding grudges. Idmaer had lied, too, but he couldn't be blamed. It was only through his intervention that Hiroc had been accepted into the Holy Order of Aern.
The Shattered Orb (Vagrant Souls Book 1) Page 21
