Govaa-Det rumbled a warning, deep in his chest. Immurai had gone too far for the god's taste.
“The gift was, as always, our Lord's to give.” Immurai amended. “I misspoke.”
“Such missteps would not be tolerated in a younger demon.” Sha made herself known with that barb, much to Immurai's annoyance.
The vessel snorted a laugh, exuding a thick mist that wreathed his head for a few seconds before dissipating. “Indeed.”
Immurai didn't let even a hint of reaction enter his voice. “Small mistakes have been permitted of me in the past due to my results. And this prize was to be and shall be my greatest success. Imagine having a shard, a fair fraction of the Threefold Moon's power here on Ere. No barrier between worlds, no rituals and grand celestial convergences for a few hours of that power, but a raw flood of it constantly. Is that not worth a word or two out of place?”
Once more, Govaa-Det was silent as he communed with the god. The screaming of the wraiths below quieted. Finally, he returned to the here and now with a gruff: “What aid do you request?”
“Bashurra of the Crevasse for one.” Immurai had given a great deal of thought to his choices. Bashurra was old, but not particularly powerful or clever. He was a great tactician, a brutal offensive force, and decent spellcaster, but no match for Immurai if it came to that. He would be useful without ever suspecting betrayal and when the time came, Immurai was confident that he or Matasume could handily destroy him. “And I wish to know the location of Zect of the Drinking Gourd.”
An unamused sound left Govaa-Det. “Zect of the Drinking Gourd. You tempt fate just by mentioning that creature in this place. Zect, of Unbent Knee. Zect the Faithless. There is a place for him with the wraiths even colder than your own.”
“And yet he remains useful enough to continue living.” said Immurai. “And he will prove useful to me as well. Perhaps seeing the power of what is now within my... ahem... our Lord's grasp will make him faithless no more.”
While Govaa-Det had his misgivings, Kayda saw the potential in gambling on Immurai one last time. As such, He forced His vessel to speak for Him. “You shall have what you ask for. And if you succeed, you will once more become Immurai the Gaunt. Go forth in my name and capture this lowly creature.”
The mask ensured that Immurai couldn't smile. This was fortunate for him now, as he wasn't certain that even he could contain a sneer of triumph as he turned and stepped past Sha, secure in his upcoming divinity.
***
Taylin took a deep breath of the warm air as she stepped out of the cramped bookseller's shop and out into the light of day once more. This time, she resisted stretching her wings, recalling an incident the day before when she'd almost knocked over a flower peddler.
It was near the end of the clan's first week in Daire City. The original plan had been to stay three to five days, but Solgrum, despite his earlier disrespect for the halflings, was now under pressure from the various mercantile guilds to keep them in the city as long as possible because the caravan was drawing in travelers from smaller cities nearby. To that end, a grand feast was being thrown in honor of the Winter Willow, but Solgrum continually pushed the date back, citing personal supply shortages.
While is frustrated Grandmother to no end, it did serve her purpose in forcing through favorable hunting rights for nir-lumos of all clans, so she put up with it.
Consequently, this suited Taylin just fine. For the first time, she had clothes and armor that fit, hard coin to spend, and a constellation of choices laid out in front of her.
It had taken three days to get those clothes. There weren't enough hailene in Daire to make it profitable to keep a stock of clothing made to take their wings into account, and so everything had to be tailor made. Such extravagances (including her new modified mail shirt and alchemically treated leathers) had eaten much of her bandit windfall, but it felt worth it to be in something other than a shirt with the back simply cut out, and far better than the barely cured hide and rough spun wool the hailene outfitted their slaves with.
Life was good. She flew on the daily, often taking Motsey and Rale with her. The children loved it even though the very idea made Rai's stomach churn.
When not flying, she spent time with her expanded circle of friends and family. Most of that time was spent in the company of Rai and Brin (and by extension, Layaka, who seemed unwilling to let Brin out of her sight.), but in the evenings, she compared what she'd gathered from reading with Kaiel's greater knowledge of history, or discussed the religion of the Mother of Blades with Issacor, who was also more or less stranded in the city, looking for work as a bodyguard.
Though she didn't mean any offense to Sylph or Pandemos, the Mother's religion appealed to her. Swords, the scripture explained, are the bare essence of weaponry; all other forms being specialized for specific situations. And all weapons existed not to attack, but to defend. What they defended was known collectively as the Five Virtues.
Oor-ma was the Self, for defending one's life is the most natural of actions.
Oor-suh was the Home, whether a homeland, or the actual place one lived in, for the Home was an extension of the Self.
Oor-yuan was the Heart, meaning loved ones; family, friends, lovers. For to have none who dwell in one's heart leads to the destruction of the Self.
Oor-kutre was Pride, for a skilled swordsman should seek constantly to hone their talent to defend the Five Virtues.
And finally, Oor-oorze was Belief or Purpose, all beings have a purpose or convictions, which, if sacrificed, was almost as spiritually fatal as losing the Oor-yuan.
Taylin had never had reason to put much thought into religion before, as the hailene during the War of Ascension were convinced that the gods had forsaken them. But whether she subscribed to any of the other tenets of the faith or not, she felt that she could adopt the Five Virtues as her own.
Which was the reason for the detour to the bookseller's shop this day. After much rummaging, she'd found a thick volume entitled On the Worship and Continuity of Small Gods, which she felt might give her more unbiased information on the Mother of Blades.
She planned to devour the book once she had time. And it was only partly out of academic interest. She'd found, after paging through some of Brin's dime fiction that she rather enjoyed reading as its own purpose. Her short life in Daire had revealed that she actually had a fairly cosmopolitan appreciation for art; from storyspinner performances and plays, to the tiny art galleries tucked away in the Golden Quarter where only the old nobility and new guild leaders did their shopping.
In the city, she'd found even more contentment than she'd had in the caravan, though the family she found there was beyond any price.
Even Ru ceased to be a source of frustration. The Rune Breaker had discovered a tavern where the local mages of talent met to trade theories and observations, but mostly to argue loudly and boisterously. He was there at that very moment, a smugly satisfied buzz in her head that occasionally related to her the latest 'preposterous' notion that he felt it was his duty to tear down through a combination of logic and petty insults.
She had no idea what any of it meant, but the fact that they could both so easily lead satisfying existences without conflicting with each other added greatly to her mood.
The only thing taking away from it was the skirt. Raiteria had added a small assortment of skirts and dresses to her clothing order and insisted that she wear them to 'get her money's worth’. The one she had on today was white, which according to Rai and Brin went with her button-down shirt of sky blue spider silk.
While she hated to admit that it looked and felt nice, it seemed a poor choice for someone who routinely flew. She considered it a personal favor to her adoptive sister in exchange for Raiteria selling the last of her bandit-won goods so that she had time to visit the booksellers.
Brin had come along, freed temporarily from Layaka courtesy of Kaiel offering the girl sword lessons. Her focus was the second book Taylin purchased.
Brin didn't know the truth. Taylin decided that no one that didn't need to know would hear a word of the truth. So far, it hadn't been an issue, but now she had to keep her expression schooled. She couldn't explain that she knew the vagaries of what her old masters did in their labs from seeing the results first hand. She'd fought and toiled and suffered beside them; manufactured ang'hailene who were crossbreeds with elves and minotaur, and dwarves. And others whose parentage was even more exotic and artificially induced. She wanted to know the how, and more importantly, the why.
“Kaiel would say that we can't focus on only the bright parts of history.” She replied. “Heroes and glory only go so far. The most important part is knowing the evils that came before so we can prevent them from coming again. And believe me, the hailene during the War of Ascension were one of the worst evils in history.”
“They couldn't be worse than the Kimeans are now.” Brin's eyes roamed around the various stalls on the street, but failed to find something of interest.
“I don't know much about the Kimeans.” said Taylin. “But... from what I gather, the hailene ran forced breeding programs, using magic to force the subjects to do things so terrible that even being a witness could leave someone with an aversion to being touched.” She fought back a shiver from memories of hours spent hiding, but being unable to shut out the sounds.
Brin frowned, and spoke in a low voice. “The Kimeans raid the shores of the strait of Nivia, taking anyone they can find; breaking up families on purpose. They especially like to take the fey races; lasconti, elves, miare. No one knows what's done to them, only that no one has ever escaped the Kimean Isles.”
Something about how she said it made Taylin stop short mentally. “You don't really hate the miare, do you?”
“Kaiel believes I do.” Brin pretended to be interested in a booth set up with clay pots and flatware.
“Because he listens to Ru, and Ru believes that every living being is filled with darkness and nothing else. Especially me.”
“How can he possibly think that, especially of you or Kaiel?” Brin was vehement. “Honestly, Taylin, I don't understand why you travel with him. He's morbid and rude and I don't understand what purpose he serves with you or the Winter Willow.”
There was nothing there Taylin could argue with. “I know, but it seems I have no choice. I...” She was forced to generate a lie quickly, “inherited his loyalties in a way. He's honor bound to help me along in the world, and even though he doesn't seem to want anything to do with me, my friends, or the clan, he won't take 'no' for an answer.”
She sighed lightly. “Besides, he's partly right: there are parts of me I don't like; angry, vindictive parts that boil at even seeing another hailene, knowing what they've done. Even though I know it was centuries ago, and that even they weren't all...”
Brin put her hand on her shoulder. “I know. Light knows I know what it's like to have your own people...” The two women glanced at one another and formed an unspoken agreement. Nothing more had to be said on these subjects.
Silence settled in and they walked further. They paid no attention to the citizens who stared. Daire's citizens were mostly humans and half-elves with the minotaur and hailene mostly being imports hired by Solgrum, or traveling with the merchants. In the larger cities, not even dragonsired and miare got a second look, but here, the odd elf and the hailene with unusual wings drew attention.
Eventually, Taylin grew uncomfortable with said silence. “So. Tell me about Reflair.”
Touching the reliquary around her neck, Brin smiled. “I think I've already explained the basics: she's my spirit companion; the spirit with whom my ability has bonded with most closely. She was a general in one of the wars all the way back in the era of Draconic Control, but only because she was princess of her elfhame when the dragon armies killed the rest of her family. I met her where she died; in the Tresolmi jungle, among the ruins of her elfhame. She led me to the Barratta.”
“So the Barratta was her weapon?” Taylin asked.
“It still is.” said Brin. “Left to my own devices, I'm fairly good with a spear, but the Barratta is also a cudgel and a staff. Reflair knows how to blend all three in a fight: you saw that in the Arena.”
Taylin cocked her head to the side. “I did? I don't think so, I only saw you.”
“You saw us. I was there, but Reflair was partially possessing me; using my body to fight with the Barratta, while I used her spiritual energy as a conduit to the Well of Souls for spellworking. It's taken us years to reach that level of teamwork... and it shows. She's not as skilled as she was in life, and I can only work minor spells.”
“It was very impressive from where I was standing.”
“Impressive is Lillith Windpiercer.” Brin waved a hand in the air as if to conjure her image. “She's the high priestess of Dey in Spinar; the only one who doesn't channel power from the Goddess. She's ashing amazing; they say she and her companion, Noian, can maintain total synchronicity for six hours. Most can manage only a few minutes.”
“That does sound impressive, but I've never met her, Brin. However, I've seen you and you shouldn't discount yourself.”
Brin looked away at that last part. “Perhaps not. But it was how I was raised and it's hard to break out of that.”
The two continued on their way, turning the conversation away from themselves and onto the city itself and the people in it.
***
Kaiel returned to his wagon late that night. Solgrum had no representatives from the Bardic College in his household, and had been eager to abuse Kaiel's presence to elevate his station. The rate in silver he paid was an insult, the work of greeting petitioners to the usurper King's court was tedious, but his cooperation was essential to getting the hunting accord signed for the nir-lumos, even if it wasn't spelled out in contract.
Solgrum kept hours for himself instead of his subjects, which led to court not even beginning until late afternoon and commencing until well after the sun went down. When there was a gala or ball, there was no court held at all that day.
It was worst for representatives of the outlying farming enclaves and towns; travel around the principality was reasonably safe during the day, but at night, the few spirit beasts in the region prowled. None of the smaller settlements could afford guards, and so their representatives were forced to pay for their own accommodations in the city.
Still pondering how far the principality had fallen under Solgrum's rule, Kaiel slowly became aware of a scraping sound. It was metal on metal in a precise rhythm, coming from... above him? He looked up at the roof of his wagon and found no one. Then he looked over at Taylin's wagon and found what, in retrospect, he should have expected.
Silhouetted against the watch lights along the city wall was Ru. His head was bent over something, yellow eyes catching the light as they narrowed with intensity. Curiosity trumped Kaiel's tiredness and he soon found himself climbing the side of the wagon.
It took a moment for him to survey the situation in the dim light and when he did, it explained nothing at all. “Ru, did you cut Taylin's sword in half?”
An unnecessary question, as the answer was laid across the Rune Breaker's lap. The razor-sword he'd created from the broken blade Taylin arrived with was split in half, not bisected, but filleted from edge to edge so that both flats of the weapon lay face down while Ru etched symbols into the interior sides with a steel pin that glowed with intense heat.
“Indeed I have.” Ru replied flatly.
“Did you ask her?”
“What need does she have of this when she has the Eastern Brand?”
“It's still her property.” Kaiel stood fully on the wagon, towering over the seated mage.
“And yet, it is my creation. You were there when I reforged that broken relic into this fine razor.” Ru never looked up. The pin trac
ed smoldering lines in the metal.
Kaiel groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “You'll do your level best to justify anything. Fine. Then tell me 'why'?”
“Theory.” Said Ru. “Have you ever been to The Ruby Draught?”
“I had hoped to spend time there since we were here, but Solgrum has stolen every scant second of my time.” Kaiel nodded. As academics' taverns went, the Draught wasn't anything special, but in that part of Novrom, it was the best place to go for intellectual camaraderie.
“Grand place, if not for the fool mechanists and alchemists trolling about the place theorizing on harnessing explosions for power, and storing lightning.”
“The stored lightning thing is old news. Merchants in Harpsfell have been using lightning jars to give would-be thieves nasty shocks for years.” said Kaiel.”
Ru rolled his eyes. “Wasteful. Why not use a spell?”
“They're cheap and you're not beholden to mages to get one.” Kaiel pointed out. “Same reason firearms exist.”
“In any event,” Ru ignored this, though he still intended to get a hold of a pistol for study at some point. “I spoke to a tutor in spellworked items from Rivenport and he had an amazing story. It seems that one of his students created quite the novelty: a knife made magically keen such that one barely feels the cut. He then added to it a controlled healing spell. The result was a knife that you could slash a person repeatedly with without doing any harm.”
Kaiel sank down to get a closer look at Ru's work. “Why do I have the cold suspicion that you've discovered a means of making it do harm?”
“Because despite appearances, you are not completely incapable of recognizing patterns.” Ru was so caught up in his work that he failed to notice that his insult was less biting than his usual. “You are, of course, correct. Harm is my purpose; why anyone would seek me out. Look here.”
He pointed to a series of symbols he'd already laid down. “As I don't care if the target feels pain, I didn't put as much work in the keening. I left the healing alone, but for one modification.”
Lighter Days, Darker Nights (Rune Breaker) Page 11
