“And sacrifice,” Octavia said.
“Yes.”
“Very well.” Octavia wasn’t eager to experience any of those things, but she had a job to do. “I need a moment to prepare.”
Graiphen responded with a nod. “Of course.”
She took the small pouch Rhikar had given her. Inside, she found what she had expected: a small doll fashioned to look like her. Around its neck was wrapped a silver thread braided with strands of her hair. So many times she had used her hair or blood in their rituals. She’d never considered he might use them outside their teaching sessions or set some aside. She must learn to be more careful with her essence. Trust and affection had made her careless. Blood was smeared all over the poppet. It must have been Rhikar’s.
“These are wards my mentor wove to give me strength,” she explained. Using her silver blade, she cut the strands. “Korbin must be whole. He must be the one to tell the emperor what we discovered. He knows Seba’s weakness, where the proof of his complicity rests.”
As soon as the strands were cut, she realized the truth of why Seba had attacked Korbin and not her. Rhikar had been protecting her. She dropped the knife as pain hit her.
Korbin’s eyes opened. “No,” he rasped.
“You must tell them Seba’s weakness,” she said. “Do you remember?”
“You should be the one to do it. They’ll believe you.”
“I’m a Kilovian witch. You’re a Dul. Do you really believe the emperor will even allow me near him?” She did her best to focus on the One, to release the pain, but Seba’s influence surrounded her, blocking her efforts. She turned to Graiphen. “Now call your goddess, and I will do my part.”
“You understand what must happen?” he asked.
“Yes.” Fear tickled at her skin, but she tried not to show it. She turned to Korbin. “Don’t look. Promise me you won’t try to stop this.”
“Octavia.” Korbin sat up. Already his pain lessened as Seba focused on her.
“It’s the only way. Swear to me.”
He nodded and looked away.
She turned back to Graiphen. “I’m ready.” She thought of her sister Trinity, who had died at the hands of a man not too unlike Graiphen. A shiver of fear ran over her, causing her to shudder hard.
Graiphen’s fist landed on her jaw, hurting her more than she could have imagined. She staggered back.
“No!” Korbin shouted, spinning toward them and rising from his bed.
Octavia turned to him. “Turn around. Don’t listen. You promised.”
“Octavia, please. I don’t understand.” He looked at Graiphen, bewildered. “Why are you doing this?”
“He’s going to save us all,” Octavia said. She did her best to put some steel in her voice. “Now turn around.”
He did as she commanded, and Graiphen nodded to her, striking her again.
The sound of Korbin’s cries as the beating continued caused her more pain than the blows themselves. She knew he would never forgive his father for this. He might not forgive her. He didn’t understand the power of blood and sacrifice.
At one point, she crumpled to the floor. Graiphen knelt beside her and ripped her dress. Her heart pounded.
“You’re stronger than I would have supposed,” he whispered. She felt his breath on her skin. His teeth sunk into her shoulder, and she screamed.
It was as though Graiphen and Seba both attacked her at the same time, one with his fists, and the other with his tainted magic. In truth, Seba’s touch was much worse than Graiphen’s.
She couldn’t take much more. “Call her,” she growled.
Graiphen laughed low in his throat. Octavia struggled to open her eyes, one of which was swollen shut, the other puffy and bruised. The Dul’s eyes were turning black.
I’m already here, Braetin said. Your sacrifice pleases me.
“Dul Seba is our enemy,” Octavia whispered. “We can only defeat him together.” She knew that without a physical vessel, Braetin could not act. That much was clear. And no vessel had proved as effective as Graiphen.
What do you offer?
“My blood.”
What do you require?
“Your strength and protection.”
The followers of Eurmus aren’t to be trusted.
Octavia would have smiled, had her lip not been split and bleeding. She looked deep into Graiphen’s blackened eyes. “Neither are the followers of Braetin.”
Graiphen threw back his head and laughed. The sound was unnatural and eerie, and Octavia shivered as though she had been doused in cold water. The laughter stopped as quickly as it had begun, and Graiphen tilted his head to the side, listening.
After long moments, he looked back at Octavia. “You have one hour.”
Suddenly, the pain from Seba’s attack stopped. She could still sense him looking for her. His touch had grown familiar to her as he hurt her, but he could no longer reach her.
Octavia struggled to stand, and Graiphen helped her up. When she met his ravenous gaze, she knew that what she’d done had been both right and very wrong. In order to defeat Seba, she was empowering one who could be just as devastating, a murderer who belonged to an unfathomable, dark creature she didn’t understand. She only hoped the consequences wouldn’t be worse than she anticipated.
Once on her feet, Octavia spoke softly to Korbin. “I need your help.”
“Is it over?” he asked, turning to her. When he saw her face, he paled and cast a vicious glare at his father. “What kind of monster are you?”
“The kind you need,” Graiphen said.
“Yes, it’s over,” Octavia told him. “Quickly. We have less than an hour to prepare.” She staggered to retrieve the sack that held her instruments, the linen and purple candles, the beeswax, calamus, and licorice root. Everything she had asked Graiphen for when she intended to attempt to bind him to his word. Not ideal for battling another conduit, but she would have to find a way to use them to her advantage. She also took the paper containing Graiphen’s blood.
Braetin’s influence made an area of dead calm in the room. Octavia could not feel her connection to the One. It was almost as though she existed outside the mortal realm. If she couldn’t see the walls and floors, she might believe she was in an alternate dream-realm.
The pain wracking her body slowed her down as she arranged the items and redrew her circle, positioning Graiphen and Korbin outside it. She lit the candles and then winced as she sat in the center.
She looked at Graiphen. “On my word, ask your mistress to remove the boundary. When that happens, I will begin. You must leave immediately. I can influence Seba only for a short time and distract him while you do your part. Act quickly, or we will fail.”
“Very well, witch,” he said. The word sounded almost as though it carried a modicum of respect.
“I’m ready.” The walls protecting her from Seba fell, but suddenly Octavia was infused with a well of strength. She felt the Shadow goddess’ presence within her. It pulsed and was difficult to control. Closing her eyes, Octavia opened herself to the One, allowing that connection to dampen the power of the Shadow.
She turned to Graiphen. “Go. Now.” Her voice echoed strangely as she and Braetin spoke as one. Octavia knew she wasn’t strong enough to hold the two forces in balance for long.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said with a bow.
Chapter 25
Graiphen knocked once on the door, and it opened immediately. The priest on the other side bowed. “It is good to see you restored, Ultim Qardone.”
Korbin and Graiphen exited, leaving Octavia behind.
“The mistress has been generous, as she always is with those faithful to her,” Graiphen said.
Korbin didn’t understand half of what was going on, but he’d seen enough to understand somehow Graiphen had regained Braetin’s favor by beating Octavia.
What Korbin didn’t understand was why she allowed it. She’d just stood there, taking the blows. His stomach lurched as he
thought about it, and he had to concentrate not to clench his fists.
“I must change my robe,” Graiphen said to his son as he led the way through the halls.
Korbin started to argue, but then he realized that his father’s robe was stained with so much sweat and blood that he couldn’t possibly present himself to the emperor like that. “We should hurry.”
Graiphen snorted. “I’m aware of our challenges.” They returned to Graiphen’s room and he called on an acolyte to help him put on the robe of his rank as head of the temple. When they were nearly finished, he said, “Have every elder meet me in the worship room immediately. We are going to see the emperor.”
The acolyte bowed. “They are already waiting, Ultim Qardone. The mistress has called to all of us.”
Korbin breathed a sigh of relief. One obstacle out of the way. He had wondered how they were even supposed to get near the emperor, much less convince him Seba was a dark conduit.
“Where is the emperor this evening?” Graiphen asked.
“After a public appearance earlier, Dul Seba held a banquet in his honor at his North Circle manor. All the remaining Council of Eight are in attendance.”
Graiphen nodded. “Interesting,” he said to Korbin. “A year ago, I would have said this was impossible. Seba was not the type.”
“I suppose black magic changes a person.” He considered how much his father had changed in the past weeks. He wasn’t sure what had changed Graiphen more, the black magic attack or the temple he’d used as an escape from it. Either way, he knew this man was no longer his father. “Let’s get this over with. We’re running out of time.”
∞
Octavia had been aware of Seba’s shifting attention all evening, but ever since she broke Rhikar’s protections, he focused on her exclusively. The objects laid out in front of her weren’t ideal, but she had to work with what was available.
Picking up the wax object, she molded it into a crude figure. Normally, she would use a physical piece of the target to focus it on him, but she had something better. Taking out Korbin’s Talmor Rider token, she used her focus to separate the essence of the man she had come to care for from the tainted work that tied it to Seba. She did the same with the blood flower that held Graiphen’s essence. Despite his claims, his goddess hadn’t removed the taint, only blocked it from affecting him.
Although Octavia didn’t like to admit it, Braetin’s influence made the work easier. She was able to grab the strands like a rope and wrap it around the poppet. Using the purple candle, she burned the tip of the licorice. Gazing upward, she called on her connection to the One and opened herself to darkness. Only through the dark side of the One could she maintain the raw strength to battle Seba.
Suddenly Seba became clear to her, and she saw his hunger and his unbridled wrath. His eyes glowed like beacons, and she could hardly turn away from them.
With every heartbeat, he grew larger and more imposing in her mind’s eye. The fire in him burned even brighter. The Shadow Spirit, rather than battling him, seemed to feed him.
Braetin surged and swirled, and Octavia sensed the Spirit’s overwhelming essence shifting through the room, casting shadows inside the circle.
“Stop!” Octavia shouted. “You’re making him stronger.”
He is a worthy talent, this child of Eurmus, but devoted to no one. She turned her voice and cast it at Seba. You seek revenge, child. A goal I approve of and can easily bestow. Come to me.
“No!” Octavia yelled again. If Seba joined with Braetin, it would be ten times worse than Graiphen at the head of the temple. He would be unstoppable. She reached for the iron nail in front of her. She hadn’t planned to use it. The object had been requested to keep Graiphen in line when she had intended to influence his will, a goal which had failed miserably.
Gathering all her energy, Octavia took the small mallet and with a shout, pounded the nail through the Shadow and into the ground. The goddess screamed and Octavia’s additional strength failed as the Spirit withdrew from her.
“Guide me through the darkness,” she whimpered and wiped the sweat off her brow. She wasn’t even certain who she was speaking to, but the thought settled her as Seba regrouped.
Braetin whipped around and struggled, but the nail held her essence in place. Demons formed all around Octavia, but she closed her eyes and let the power of the stars fill her. She was the One. She was everything. She recognized Braetin for what she was: an interloper, a foreign presence in this realm. Octavia was not the foreigner. Braetin was, a powerful entity that fed on the emotions and fears of the native people.
Seba attacked once more, but he had nothing to connect him directly to Octavia as he had with Korbin. He was strong, but she had an advantage. Her poppet was tied to him, and she focused on her binding magic. She pulled up the Talmoran dress and exposed her thigh. Using the silver blade, she cut deeply, more deeply than she ever had before. The blood gushed, and she held the poppet to the cut, covering it with wet, red essence.
“I bind you,” she whispered. Just as she had protected Korbin, she now used her blood to tie Seba.
Laying back, she fought to stay conscious. The power would only stay in place as long as she lived. She just hoped she could hang on long enough to do some good. She reached for a rag to try to stop the bleeding, but she had grown weak.
Demons shouted and feet scurried around her. The goddess didn’t like being bound. “Hurry,” Octavia whispered to Korbin.
∞
The procession of red-robed priests had moved more quickly than Korbin had expected, but still not fast enough to suit him. When they arrived at Seba’s manor, Graiphen acted surprised to be stopped at the door.
He turned to one of Seba’s guards, a member of the city watch. “Aren’t all of the Council of Eight invited this evening?”
“Yes, of course, Dul Graiphen,” the guard replied. “But you’re—”
“According to the law, a senator can only be removed by order of the emperor. Has the emperor made such an order?”
The guard looked at his comrades. “I…”
“If he has,” Graiphen said, “I have not heard of it. Don’t you think I would know if I had been dismissed from the position?”
“But you quit,” another of the guards said. “Dul Seba is head of the Council now. How could he be if you still were on the Council?”
“How indeed?” Graiphen replied.
Korbin had to hand it to him. His father could talk his way into or out of just about anything.
An Imperial guardsman came from within the house and addressed the soldier. “What’s the trouble?” He didn’t even glance in Graiphen’s direction nor acknowledge the twenty elder priests with him.
“Dul Graiphen has arrived. He claims to be a member of the Council of Eight, and therefore an invited guest.”
“And my son Dul Korbin,” Graiphen said. “And these are elders in the Spirit Braetin’s service.”
The guardsman nodded. “I will inquire.” He marched away at double speed, and Korbin fought his impatience. Seba was inside. How he could be hosting a dinner while fighting with Octavia, Korbin didn’t know, but they had to reach the emperor before Dul Seba finished the task.
Graiphen turned to Korbin. “Tell me Seba’s secret,” he said quietly. “Where he hides the evidence. If Octavia fails, and you fall again, I need to know how to defeat him.”
Korbin shook his head. He didn’t trust Graiphen a hair’s breadth. “You have betrayed me so many times I cannot count, but the most recent was only tonight. Do you think I would trust you again?”
“Stop thinking of your own problems, you selfish boy,” Graiphen hissed under his breath. “Think of the greater good of Talmor. Seba must be finished.”
“Then you’d better make sure I don’t fall under his influence again.”
Graiphen scowled. “Foolish child. You always have been.”
Korbin ignored his father’s words. After everything he’d seen in the past couple
of days, he no longer cared what this man thought of him.
The imperial guardsman returned. “His imperial highness wishes to see Dul Graiphen and meet his son.” He glanced at the other priests. “But only these two.”
Graiphen nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to the priests. “You may return to the temple.”
“Ultim Qardon,” one of them began. He was an older man, obviously one who thought himself in charge. Korbin considered what a strange couple of weeks it must have been for the priesthood of Braetin, never knowing quite who their leader was. But then, ultimately, it was the Spirit herself. Korbin shuddered when he recalled feeling her presence.
“I will return soon,” Graiphen said. Without waiting for a response, he swept past the city watchmen and followed the Imperial Guard.
Korbin trailed behind his father and couldn’t help but suspect they were walking into a trap.
They were shown into the house, an austere manor fashioned of dark granite. Music filtered through the entryway, and voices chattered from beyond. The sounds of gaiety seemed false and inappropriate to Korbin, given the darkness brewing around them.
The guardsman pointed to a side room, away from the party. “In here.”
Graiphen and his son entered, and the guardsman shut the door behind them.
Minutes passed in silence. “I don’t like this,” Graiphen said. “We are to expose Seba publicly. How can we do that locked away in here?”
“We have to hurry,” Korbin said. “Octavia can’t hold out forever.”
“She has the aid of the living Spirit of Shadow,” Graiphen reminded him.
That was part of what was worrying Korbin. He didn’t like her being left alone in that temple. She knew her business, of course, but he couldn’t see any of this ending well.
The outer door thrust open, and a tall young man only about a decade older than Korbin strode in. He was dressed in a gold-threaded black tunic. He was handsome in a boyish way but had a bored look about him. Korbin stared.
Graiphen bowed. “Your imperial highness,” he said. It took Korbin a moment to bow as well. This man was not what he expected.
Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) Page 25
