Forging Divinity

by Rowe, Andrew

  Lydia quirked a brow at the blur of her friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Veruden. From this angle, it looks like you’re the one barring the path.”

  Veruden folded his arms in front of him. “The people in those wagons are fugitives. I have orders to return them to the city immediately.”

  Fugitives? Orders? Oh, resh.

  Korin stepped protectively in front of Lydia. “You can let us handle this, miss. He’s just one man, sorcerer or not.”

  Lydia stepped right back in front of Korin. “I don’t intend for this to turn into a fight. Veruden, step aside. Let’s talk about this. I think we’ve been set up.”

  “Maybe you were,” Veruden said uncertainly. “I can’t step out of the road, sorry, Lydia. My orders were pretty clear.”

  Time for a gamble, then. “Those aren’t fugitives back there. I’ve met the people in the back – they looked like ordinary civilians. No prison brands, certainly. And the others are supposed to be a Selyran ambassador and his entourage.”

  “Might just be that you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, then, Lydia. Someone here is trying to sneak prisoners out of the city,” he waved a hand at the wagons. “Maybe it’s not all the wagons. It’d be smarter for them to come through along with a normal caravan, in fact.”

  “I’m going to need to see your authorization,” Lydia said, folding her arms. Her vision was slowly starting to clear, just sufficiently to make out Veruden’s uncertain expression.

  “Authorization? What are you babbling about, Scryer? We’re both court sorcerers,” he waved a hand. “Are you trying to stall for time?”

  She shook her head. “Korin, hand over my papers.”

  “Uh, I don’t exactly have them-“

  “Get them,” Lydia insisted, waving him at away. Korin hesitated for just a moment, then nodded and complied. The remaining three guards looked at her uncertainly, but she just raised a warding hand for them to wait.

  “I don’t see what papers have to do with any of this,” Veruden said, taking a step forward.

  “My orders,” Lydia began, hoping to prevent a bloodbath, “Are from the queen regent herself. With her seal. She asked me – just a couple hours ago, interrupting me in the middle of my meal with Edon and Taelien – to rush here to guard the caravan.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Edon ordered me –,” he paused, sighing. “Okay, starting to see what you mean about one of us being played.”

  Lydia nodded. “Give the guard captain a minute to get-“

  “Don’t need the papers,” he said. “I believe you. You said you’d checked one of the wagons, though, not all of them. Only way we can know what’s really going in is by checking them all.”

  Can’t disagree with that logic... But the guards were given explicit instructions not to let anyone in the other wagons.

  Resh it.

  “Yeah,” Lydia agreed. “You’re right. We check them together. Guards, stand down.”

  The guards looked from one to another doubtfully, then back to her.

  “I’m not sure we’re allowed-“

  “I’m under the queen regent’s authority, remember?” Lydia grinned. “Don’t worry, no one is going to blame you if something goes wrong. The responsibility falls on me.”

  One of the soldiers breathed a sigh of relief about that, but the other two seemed uncertain. They took steps back, away from Veruden, hands on blades.

  Veruden walked over to Lydia’s side, and the pair of them headed to side of the first wagon. Lydia waved to a pair of guards who were still seated at the coach box, prepared to move the horses at any time.

  “Step down and be ready to intercept anyone who attempts to attack us,” she ordered the guards. They complied immediately, taking it a step further by drawing the swords at their sides.

  “I’ll go first,” Veruden said, stepping up to the side of the coach and opening the door.

  A sword went right through his center a moment later.

  Istavan stood in the doorway of the coach, withdrawing his blade with a flourish.

  Lydia’s sword flashed into her hand, and she reached with her left hand to grab Veruden and steady him – but her hand passed through him. Veruden vanished an instant later.

  Istavan stumbled forward as if he had been struck, catching himself on the dirt.

  “What in the name of the gods was that about, Istavan?” Lydia demanded, eyes scanning the area for Veruden.

  “Should have known this was an ambush,” Veruden said from somewhere nearby. The five uncertain guards nearby had their swords drawn, but they didn’t seem to know who to point them at. Two of them faced vaguely toward Istavan, while the others looked around with bewildered expressions.

  Veruden didn’t just teleport, Lydia realized. Istavan never hit him. He’s using sight sorcery!

  “Get Veruden, now!” Istavan rasped, reaching with his empty hand to cover his ribs. “He’s here to take the ambassador!”

  “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate the hidden!” Lydia shouted, searching for Veruden. She only caught a vague blur to Istavan’s right before a fist slammed into the sorcerer’s mask, shattering it to pieces and smashing Istavan toward the dirt.

  Veruden appeared above Istavan, a flickering sphere of blue light in his hands, preparing to throw downward.

  “No, stop!” Lydia charged at Veruden, swinging the flat of her blade at her friend. He glanced at her just before the blade struck and the sword sailed through him, meeting only empty air. The false image of him flickered and disappeared a moment later.

  “He tried to skewer me, Scryer,” Veruden’s voice said from somewhere on her left. She spun, but she couldn’t find him. Either that sight spell shot my vision too badly for my detection spell to work properly, or he’s just that good at invisibility. Lydia grimaced. Invisibilty and teleportation. And whatever that blue thingy was. Resh. When did Veruden learn at least two more Dominions? And with that degree of proficiency? He’s not even using incantations...

  “I need you to stop, Veruden. I don’t want to take a side here. We should all talk this out. Guards,” she instructed. “Point your swords at that man,” she indicated Istavan. “Don’t let him move. But if Veruden attacks him again, feel free to stab him, too.”

  A shockwave blasted Lydia off her feet.

  Eru elan lav kor taris, her Comprehensive Barrier reported unhelpfully. The barrier did stop her from feeling the impact as she hit the ground, however, so she was on her feet faster than the guards – who, at a second glance, didn’t seem to be getting back up at all.

  What the –

  Veruden appeared right in front of Lydia, grabbing her sword’s hilt and wrenching it out of her hand. The saber spun into the darkness, landing far out of reach. She responded by grabbing his injured hand right hand and squeezing. He groaned and fell to a knee.

  “Stop it, Veruden. I don’t want to fight you.” She emphasized that by squeezing his hand a little harder.

  “Going to have to pick a side, even if you don’t want to,” he muttered through grit teeth.

  And then she was clutching air.

  Lydia couldn’t see him, but she knew where his next move would be. Istavan was still on the ground, shaking his head in disorientation, and none of the guards around him were moving.

  The sorceress rushed forward, tackling a flickering blur in the empty air. Lydia met resistance, her lunge catching him in the stomach instead of the shoulder she had been aiming for. Still, she managed to drag him down to the ground with some effort.

  That didn’t keep him long, however. Veruden was still only half-visible, and he managed to slam an elbow into her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. As she winced, he rolled on top of her. His good hand closed around her throat.

  “I don’t want to do this. Surrender,” Veruden said.

  A mailed fist slammed into his cheek, knocking the sorcerer right off of her.

  “Got your papers,” Korin said, reaching down and wrenc
hing her off the ground with a strong hand. Lydia woozily caught her feet.

  Veruden was gone again, and Istavan was still having difficulty standing up. She glanced at Korin dubiously, wondering how he was still standing.

  Oh, right. I put a barrier on him before we left. Guess it worked. I should probably refresh that.

  “Dominion of Protection-“

  Korin went flying, slamming into the side of the wagon. Lydia caught the flicker of his barrier triggering as he collided, but he smashed into it hard, cracking the wooden frame.

  Something slammed into Lydia from behind, invisible hands wrapping around her wrists. “Tell me you’ll surrender and I’ll stop,” Veruden’s voice said.

  She slammed a foot down toward his, but he moved it aside, and she caught only dirt. Through the corner of her eye, she caught Istavan raising his right hand. Veruden must have caught it, too, because he relaxed his grip on her – presumably to try to teleport again.

  Not getting away this time, Lydia thought. She grabbed his injured hand again, squeezing hard. “Dominion of Protection, fold against his skin.”

  “Ignite,” Istavan said, a blast of light issuing from his outstretched hand toward Veruden.

  Veruden released Lydia, waved a hand, and the incendiary light caught him in the center of the chest. He crumpled to the dirt.

  No, Lydia thought, rushing over to Veruden’s fallen form. That shield should have stopped the blast too. His teleport couldn’t have been powerful enough to use up the barrier by itself.

  The sorceress rolled him over, revealing a severe burn spreading across Veruden’s entire chest. Smoke rose from the charred flesh, and his eyes were sealed shut.

  “Clever move, using a shielding spell to prevent him from escaping,” Istavan remarked, slowly approaching.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Lydia instructed Istavan in a growl. “I’m still not sure we’re on the same side.”

  Lydia winced as she looked back to Veruden’s charred skin. Resh it. I’ve never been good at life sorcery.

  “Can you heal him?” Lydia asked, not even bothering to turn toward Istavan.

  “I’m not sure why you would even contemplate that, given that he just attempted to kill both of us.”

  The sorceress glared at Istavan. “You started that, and you’re going to give me some answers about that later.”

  “Interesting. I would think you would be the one owing me answers, given that I last saw you helping a prisoner escape the low place,” he said.

  He remembers? I’d better play this carefully. “The others haven’t filled you in yet? Feh, look, tell me directly if you can heal Veruden or not. I promise I’ll fill you in on that prisoner incident after this is dealt with.”

  “Very well. I will stabilize him, but nothing further,” Istavan said.

  “Try to kill him and I will end you,” Lydia assured him, standing and walking to retrieve her discarded sword.

  “I keep my word, Sorceress Scryer. I hope that the same can be said of you.”

  Istavan bent over Veruden, pressing a hand against the burn. “Mend.”

  A weave of green, vine-like tendrils extended from Istavan’s wrist to Veruden’s chest.

  Good enough. Lydia turned to check on Korin, but he was already back on his feet, helping one of the other guards stand. The sorceress breathed a sigh of relief. At least his death won’t be on my conscience.

  “Thanks for the save back there,” Lydia said, approaching Korin.

  “Not a problem. Now, would you mind telling me what the resh is going on here?”

  “I’m still sorting that out myself,” Lydia admitted.

  “Sorceress,” Istavan intoned. “You’re not going to like this.”

  Lydia whirled, expecting to see that Veruden had stopped breathing.

  Instead, Veruden was gone.

  “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate the hidden!” she yelled, searching the area, focusing as deeply as she could. Not even a blur of Veruden was visible.

  Resh. He’s gone.

  Lydia walked slowly to match Istavan’s limping pace. It had taken several minutes to get the guards back on their feet, and most of them still looked dazed. One of them had landed at a particularly bad angle and was nursing a broken nose.

  Given the unusual circumstances of the encounter, Lydia and Istavan had remained quiet as they helped the guards back to their feet and instructed the wagons to resume their journey. Korin gave a leery glance at Istavan every now and again, but he didn’t remark on anything. Once the wagons had resumed their movement, Lydia and Istavan took to the front, walking ahead of the others to scan the road for any more threats.

  Istavan’s breathing was hoarse, but his face was set with grim determination. Lydia was unused to seeing him without his mask, but he was surprisingly handsome. Like many from Terisgard, he had brown skin and short, curly black hair. She had expected the mask was to conceal some kind of scarring, but no such damage was evident. Perhaps he simply wore the mask to look intimidating or inhuman – it certainly achieved those effects. Even without it, Istavan radiated a strong presence, seeming to loom over everything he observed.

  “I will inform the queen that you cooperated,” Istavan said, shattering the silence.

  She glanced over at him, quirking a brow. “Care to explain that?”

  He shivered, showing an uncharacteristic sign of weakness.

  He didn’t use that much fire sorcery, and it’s not really all that cold out, Lydia considered. Was he already exhausted when he came out here?

  “The queen knew that this caravan would not be allowed to leave the city without a fight. She decided to take the opportunity to see where your loyalties would fall, if tested.” He broke into a fit of coughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

  Lissari keep you healthy, Lydia thought to herself. She wouldn’t dare say it aloud.

  “So, this was just a test?” The sorceress shook her head. “People nearly died for a test of loyalty?”

  Istavan shook his head, still coughing. After a moment, it passed, and he winced and waved a hand at her in a dismissive gesture. “No, the attack was real,” he assured her. “We did not know who it would come from or when, but that was not staged. The ‘test’ portion was simply that I was instructed not to interfere if you chose to handle the attack by yourself.”

  Ah, and he would try to eliminate me if I sided with the attackers, Lydia considered. That does make some level of sense. For a gambling sort, at least.

  “You expected that I would either fight off the attackers or join them. Choosing to investigate the wagons took you off guard,” Lydia surmised.

  Istavan nodded, straightening his back, as if to compensate for his earlier show of weakness. “Yes. And Veruden proved more dangerous than I could have anticipated.”

  Lydia folded her hands in front of her. “I’d only ever seen him use travel sorcery before, and even then, a single spell seemed to exhaust him. Could he have been misleading us about his capabilities for years?”

  “No,” Istavan said simply, pausing to cough again.

  That coughing can’t be good. Perhaps he used too much life sorcery?

  “At a minimum, he was using travel sorcery, either sight or deception to make illusions, whatever knocked out the guards, and a type of blue fire – radiance, maybe?” Lydia mused aloud.

  “The spell that knocked out the guards was some kind of powerful sound sorcery,” Istavan explained after he recovered from his latest coughing. “It kept my ears ringing for minutes. I couldn’t concentrate at all.”

  “How’d you remain conscious through it? I had a protection spell active,” Lydia explained, omitting the odd words she had seen when the Comprehensive Barrier attempted to translate the spell.

  It was just like when Edon countered the sorcery in the arena. I think some of the words were even the same. What does that mean? When I comprehended Jonan’s spell, it was essentially translating his thoughts to me – could they be thinking in
another language? Or a cypher, perhaps?

  Istavan chuckled softly, which was slightly jarring. “Before I came out here, I knew there was a possibility I might have to fight you. I asked Morella to cast a spell on me that would force me to remain conscious and aware.”

  Lydia grimaced. “To counter the sleep spell I used on you last time. I’m sorry about that.”

  “You still owe me an explanation,” he pointed out.

  Lydia nodded. “I was pretending to break a prisoner out of the palace to learn who his contacts were. I tried to time it so we wouldn’t have any opposition. You weren’t supposed to be in the palace. You weren’t even supposed to be in the city.”

  He nodded, smirking slightly. “A miscalculation. I have been working directly – and covertly – for the queen for several months now. To prepare for this very day, in fact. If I had known about your ‘pretend’ rescue, I would have been glad to help.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Really. You have a funny way of trying to be helpful, given that you have a habit of attacking as soon as the door to your room opens.”

  “Initiative is often necessary in this field of work. Hesitation can be deadly. Waiting would not have improved my odds – either against you and your paladin friend, or with Veruden.” He moved wrapped his arms around him, looking as if he was struggling to keep warm.

  Paladin? What does he think he knows? Lydia glanced back toward the wagons, noting that they were still far enough back that it was unlikely any non-sorcerer could be listening in on their conversation. Her sword was still sheathed on her left side, and she trusted that she was in better shape than Istavan was if she needed to act.

  “What were you doing in there with the sword?” Lydia asked.

  “I was examining it, of course. I had hoped to break it out of the scabbard. A tool like that blade could have been very useful. Of course, after seeing your friend in the arena, I realize that we did not have a fraction of the information necessary to understand what we were really dealing with.” He took a deep breath. “It is difficult to know how to act when faced with only half of what you need to know.”