Of Bone and Ruin

by T. A. White

“The ones who keep up the temple to the Saviors?”

  “Those are the ones.”

  “Once,” she said. It had been an odd meeting. She’d gotten the sense that the guardian had recognized her despite his words to the contrary.

  “They show the world that they are harmless, safeguarding the memories of the Saviors, keeping up with their teachings.”

  That resonated with what Tate knew of them.

  “It’s all lies of course. They do guard the memories, but the teachings they espouse are not the ones the Saviors followed. In many cases, they aren’t even a pale imitation. It’d be more accurate to say they tell the people what they think will make society cling to the status quo. Nothing about the truth.”

  “Why do you say that?” It felt like the carriage was slowing. Wherever they were going they were going to be there soon.

  “I was one of them. Once. Before I learned who they were and they punished me for it. That’s when I had my eyes opened. That’s when I saw that the monsters the Saviors had given us were really themselves. The Creators were their scapegoats; the boogey man upon which they assigned all blame.”

  “They created slaves,” Tate said. “Twisted men and women into monsters until there was nothing good left.”

  “Lies fed to us by the temple guardians and those who would have us close our eyes to the truth.”

  “What is the truth?”

  “They would have us believe the Creators were anything but power hungry monsters without a conscience. Did you know that when they first came to this world, it was a barren, desolate wasteland with little potential? They built a paradise and then stocked it with their greatest masterpieces, their favored children, who safeguarded the world their parents had built.”

  “This was thousands of years ago. Their battles are done, both groups are long gone from this world. Why does any of this matter?” Tate leaned her head back against the carriage. There wasn’t much time left. She was so tired. Ilith still cowered in the back of her mind; there would be no help from that quarter.

  The carriage stopped and the sound of movement came from outside.

  “The past shapes the future still. For proof, you have yourself, risen from the grave. Someone who walked with legends. You tell me whether things are over and gone.”

  The door opened and a man looked at Brown Eyes.

  “Sir, we’re here and awaiting your orders.”

  Brown Eyes smiled at Tate and then stepped outside. “Open it. My friend and I have business to attend to inside.”

  The man gave a respectful bow and then set off, issuing orders to others as they stepped out of the carriage.

  “Come, it’s time for you to meet your past and find your future.” He held out a hand to Tate, his expression welcoming.

  She was forced to take it, her skin wanting to crawl away from the area where he touched her, but not wanting to give any sign of the deep disquiet she felt.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “You don’t recognize it?” he asked.

  “No.”

  She said that, but she realized the scenery looked a little familiar. Large trees against soggy ground. She bet if they walked a few feet into the forest they’d be knee deep in a swamp. They were close to the excavation site.

  He turned and looked at the area. “It doesn’t look like much. Nothing to say what a momentous role this place will play in history.”

  He led her into the forest, two guards falling in at her back to make sure she didn’t try to escape. Not that she could at the moment.

  She wasn’t as bad off as when she’d woken up after her tangle with the berserker, but she wasn’t up to going into battle or running anywhere. Weakness invaded her body, stealing her energy. She still had a splitting headache and her ears were ringing. Not the kind of body she’d want to stress with an escape attempt unless she was in mortal and immediate peril.

  The entrance was a short platform located in the middle of a cobblestone circle. Several of the cobblestones were missing or upended and covered in vines. There was enough of the entrance left that Tate could see what it might have been in its heyday.

  Brown Eyes took Tate by the arm and shoved her in front of him. “Ladies first.” He leaned close. “Really it’s because I want you in front in case any traps are triggered.”

  “You’re all kindness.” Tate eyed the gaping maw in the ground. She didn’t want to go down there, but it looked like she didn’t have a lot of choice.

  *

  “Looks like we’re finally here,” Brown Eyes said in excitement. He did a hop skip of celebration.

  “Oh joy.”

  The two guards from above had accompanied them down, not saying much even when Brown Eyes engaged them in one of the many tangents his mind went down during the time they’d been walking.

  Voices came from around the next corner. Hope sparked.

  The guards didn’t seem too bothered about company. They probably expected it, which meant that whoever was around the corner were going to be more enemies that Tate would have to outsmart when she made her escape.

  “You’re late,” Elijah snapped as soon as they stepped into the chamber that had been discovered under the mosaic room.

  “I am not. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be at the correct time,” Brown Eyes said with offended calmness.

  “You said you’d be here three hours ago.”

  “Time is relative. This is the right time by the simple fact that I am here.”

  “Your tardiness could put everything in jeopardy.” Elijah stepped closer. “The mediator has called for a full inquiry. He’s bringing in some of the Empire’s investigative force. They’re going to discover everything.”

  “No matter. Anything they find will be too late to make a difference.” Brown Eyes clasped his hands behind his back and rocked onto his toes.

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t know what that means,” Elijah said with exasperation.

  “You’re working with him,” Tate said. She had thought the academic was too obsessed with securing a permanent place at the Academy to be involved with Brown Eyes. “You’re the one who has been paying the Night Lords to smuggle this site’s artifacts out to be replaced by replicas that don’t work.”

  “Very good,” Elijah snapped. “Too bad that knowledge is utterly useless to you now.”

  “Why? The mediation was probably going to be in your favor.”

  “Do you know how many discoveries I’ve been a part of that have just been handed to whatever group, Kairi, Silva or human that claims Ancestor Rights?” He didn’t wait for Tate to answer. “Five. Five missed opportunities to take advantage of the gifts our ancients left us. When we do retain control, the empire confiscates the truly important finds and doles them out to their favored nobles as repayment for favors.”

  “So you work with this guy? He won’t let you keep what you discover,” Tate said. “He’s a murderer and if he doesn’t kill you he’ll leave you to face the emperor’s justice. He won’t lift a hand to save you.”

  “Hey,” Brown Eyes said with false indignity. He gave a roguish smile. “It’s only murder to the dead guy.”

  “And every other person in society.”

  Brown Eyes shrugged and moved away from Tate to examine the perimeter of the room.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Elijah said. “It won’t work. Christopher is a visionary. He opened my eyes to what was going on.”

  Christopher turned. “You hear that. Visionary.”

  Tate wondered if there was a term to describe someone whose visions were inspired by nightmares.

  “You keep telling yourself that. We’ll see who’s right in the end,” Tate said.

  “I hope you haven’t called me down here to listen to you rant, Elijah,” the Duke of Spiritly said from behind Tate.

  Elijah’s entire face changed, lighting up with a fawning devotion.

  Tate turned to see the duke eyeing the room with the sort of suspici
on usually reserved for known pickpockets when you have valuables on your person. Roslyn stood next to him looking confused and like she would like to be anywhere else.

  “My lord, thank you for coming. I’m on the cusp of an amazing discovery. Something that I think will solve you and your family’s little problem.” The way he eyed Roslyn made it clear what he meant by that.

  “Who are these people?” the Duke asked.

  “My business associate.” Elijah gestured at Brown Eyes, known to his cohorts as Christopher. Such an unassuming name for someone who seemed one crazy dance away from evil. Christopher turned and waved. “And I believe you’ve already met the witness.”

  “Father, what’s going on? Why are we down here?” Roslyn looked between her father and Elijah. The furrowed brow said she had an idea of what was happening but was hoping to be proven wrong.

  “Let me take a stab at explaining this,” Tate said when the duke refused to look at his daughter and ignored her question. “Your father has been working with Elijah in the hope of getting access to a wider range of artifacts so that you, his daughter, could have a greater chance of bonding with one. How am I doing so far?”

  “Those were some good guesses,” Christopher chirped as he skipped across the room.

  “What is she doing here?” the Duke asked. He didn’t seem pleased by Tate’s presence or her insertion into events.

  “I know this one.” Christopher grabbed Tate by the shoulders and thrust her forward. “Our little friend is the key upon which all things turn.”

  The duke lifted an eyebrow, disdain dripping from him. “I did not agree to work with you on the basis of riddles. Answer my question plainly or I will take my men and resources and leave you to answer to the authorities.”

  Tate should have saved her ‘he’s going to betray you and leave you to take the fall’ for the duke’s arrival.

  “You can’t do that,” Elijah sputtered. “You’re just as culpable as I am. More, since it was your connections that made this possible.”

  The smirk the duke gave him was full of cold arrogance. “And to whom do you think the emperor’s men are going to give the benefit of the doubt?”

  “Roslyn, are you just going to stand there and let this happen?” Tate asked. Roslyn started, her gaze landing on Tate’s before flitting away like a bird trying to escape.

  Christopher’s hands covered Tate’s mouth. “None of that, Savior. No stirring the seeds of rebellion.” To the duke, he said, “Let’s not be hasty. Our partnership is not at an end. It is simply being transformed. What we offer is better than some paltry trinket capable of parlor tricks. It is greater than that.”

  “How?” The duke looked like he was considering Christopher’s words.

  Christopher nuzzled Tate’s cheek. “We’re going to call the guardian of this place, and then we’re going to rip his power right out of him.”

  “That’s not possible,” the Duke said. “The guardians are minor gods. It’s foolish to tangle with them. They have complete power in the places they protect.”

  “Yes, they do. Now imagine if your daughter had that same power but was able to take it wherever she traveled.”

  The duke’s focus turned inward. “Her family would be unstoppable.”

  Christopher vibrated with excitement as he giggled. “Yes.”

  Spiritly shook his head as if coming back to the real world. “That’s a nice thought, but it isn’t impossible. The guardian answers to no one. You can’t steal his power if you can’t summon him.”

  “But we can,” Elijah said, a fanatical gleam in his eyes. “Someone here has already done so once.”

  All eyes came to rest on Tate. Christopher giggled again and rocked Tate back and forth.

  Chapter Twenty

  “This woman can summon a guardian?” the Duke asked, skepticism in his voice. “Even those directly descended from the Saviors cannot summon one reliably.”

  Tate agreed with him. Though she could have done without some of the scorn. That said, she was all for any doubt he wanted to cast on this insane plan.

  The guardian of this place had looked wrong. Like the isolation of thousands of years had driven him insane. She didn’t think things would be quite as simple as Brown Eyes assumed.

  “Let’s just say her connection is a little closer to the source,” Christopher said. He released Tate.

  “How can you expect me to believe this? It’s impossible,” Spiritly said.

  Christopher shrugged. “I don’t. I plan to show you.”

  Spiritly cocked his head and folded his arms. “I’d like to see this.”

  Tate watched Christopher prowl around the room. How did he plan to get her to summon the guardian? She wasn’t even sure how she summoned it the last time she got stuck in that room.

  “Father, perhaps we should reconsider. There are other ways,” Roslyn said.

  “We’ve already exhausted other options. You’ve failed at every turn.”

  Roslyn’s face fell. “It’s not so bad, right? Not bonding with an artifact. You told me when I was younger that most are lucky if a wielder appears once in three generations. Maybe this just isn’t meant to be.”

  “Not for our family. We are among the oldest. Our lines are the strongest. You will not shame us. You will bond with an artifact, even if I have to enslave a few guardians to make it happen,” he snapped.

  “Suddenly, I’m glad not to remember any family,” Tate drawled. “If you’re what I have to look forward to, I think it’s better to go through this world alone.”

  “That’s right, you have no one. Your ancestors are faceless shadows. There will be no one waiting for you on the other side. You don’t know the burden that comes with upholding centuries of family expectations. You’re a nobody who happens to have something we need. Once we have it, you’ll be cast aside with the rest of the trash.” The duke’s eyes burned into Tate’s as he recited his cutting remarks.

  Tate whistled. “You really put me in my place. It’d hurt more if it was actually from someone I respected.”

  The duke curled his lip and moved away. Roslyn drifted to stand beside her.

  “Thank you, Tate.”

  “Don’t thank me. Stand up for yourself.” If she really wanted to thank her, Roslyn would make a break for it and summon help.

  “It’s not that easy. He’s my father.”

  Tate closed her eyes, hard pressed to argue with Roslyn. What did she know of family? Nothing, because she couldn’t remember who they were. There was a black hole where those ties should have been. Maybe she just wasn’t capable of understanding the difficulties such ties presented or how tightly they could bind you.

  “You know, I don’t remember much about who I was, but I like to think that the relationships I’ve made since then mean something. Your family doesn’t have to define you. I’ve made my own family and our ties are just as strong as any drawn from blood.”

  Roslyn’s eyes were sad as she stared across the room at her father. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been proud to be a Spiritly, descended from the Savior Jaxon Kuno. My family is full of heroes that have made sacrifices to protect their people. I was one of them. Their blood runs through me. It was supposed to make me great too.”

  “There are many paths to greatness. It isn’t an either or. It’s more than bonding with some artifact. It’s what you do and what you stand for. Seems to me that enslaving a guardian, one the Saviors left behind to protect their knowledge, goes against the very principles that your forefathers stood for.”

  Roslyn looked away, lines bracketing her mouth and eyes. Tate let it go, knowing that she could talk until she had no breath in her body, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Roslyn had to come to the realization that she was more than just her family on her own.

  Tate watched Elijah and the duke consult. Elijah and Christopher had drawn a circle filled with runes on the ground.

  The last time she had encountered one of Brown Eyes’ circles she h
adn’t known what they meant. Now she could interpret some of the looped lines and interlocking shapes from things Daiske had struggled to teach her. She wished she’d retained more of that information and not gotten so frustrated when she failed to meet with success.

  The two outer circles intersected in several place. A third inner circle was there for protection and to lock things inside. She was willing to bet the four symbols drawn around the circle were at the corresponding points for North, South, East and West. She didn’t recognize the ones around the rim of the inner circle. Those hadn’t been covered in Daiske’s class.

  “Now, all that’s left is the guardian,” Christopher said, tossing his piece of chalk in the air.

  “This is it? This is how you plan to immobilize the guardian so you can steal his essence?” The duke stepped closer, crouching and reaching for one of the chalk lines.

  “Ah, ah.” Christopher caught his hand before he could touch the symbol. “Let’s not touch. We wouldn’t want to accidentally wipe away a mark. It could be world ending you know.”

  The duke withdrew his hand, eyeing the construct with a thoughtful look. “Now what?”

  Christopher turned to Tate. “Now we put our little helper to work.”

  The guards grabbed Tate and marched her into the center of the construct, leaving her there and retreating across the lines. She started to follow. Christopher held up an oblong device. Tate stopped.

  “Good girl. This won’t kill you, but I’m told it might maim you if used with the highest intensity. Just listen and this will all be over shortly.”

  Tate settled back.

  “I knew we’d make a good team.” Christopher lowered the weapon. He bent and placed his hands against the ground just outside of his rendering, a golden light washing over his eyes, turning them into beams of fire. He said a word. One that made Tate’s bones ache and thrummed in her veins. The construct glowed with the same golden light for a brief moment before going dark.

  “Hm.” Christopher eyed the circle with a frown.

  “Problem?” the Duke asked. He seemed oddly disinterested for someone who was betting the honor of his family on this working.