He called her name to no response.
Perhaps she heard nothing over even the dying wind. The blizzard appeared to be subsiding, though lazy snowflakes still floated to the ground. He went out to her and put his hand on her arm.
"Versa."
Nothing.
Shifting around in front of her, he tried to touch her uncovered skin.
Ice.
"Versa?"
Fear gathered around his heart.
His hand drifted from her frozen chin to her armor. She had no heartbeat. Yet he saw the blood dripping from her wound. Gathering her in his arms, he sought watchers.
They were alone. Everyone had already retreated indoors.
Though the cold bit into him, he gathered her in his arms and closed his eyes. He envisioned his chambers knowing the door would be shut and bolted from inside. Then they were there, leaving behind the tell-tale trace of scent in the air.
When he laid her down on his bed, her body moved with the ease of the unconscious, though he still felt no pulse. Retrieving the small mirror from his wash stand, he held it above her lips. It took a moment, but it finally began to fog.
He went nearly boneless with relief.
Versa's state had to be part of that unnatural blizzard.
Magical weather and forcing frozen paralysis on someone without even touching them. Jalcina of Sartol carried power.
Nalcet had said almost nothing about her aside from her placement as the vessel of the rebirth. Yet this said she was much more than the city let on, assuming his Father knew who and what she was. Unless…
He strode over to the false stone where he had hidden the spirits.
What if it was simply something Nalcet had never known about Leviana?
Her strength had been the Light.
The blue sparkle moved lazily behind the glass in opposition to the black gem also floating.
The Light called lightning, drew shields of strength, and could even make weapons. He didn't know if it could call weather.
And Nalcet would not awaken to ask for hours.
He put the spirits away and went back to Versa. He covered her with the thin blanket which was often enough even on the chilliest nights in the southern city.
She would recover.
With an uncertain eye, he checked her wound. Having a physician in to see her now would cause questions he couldn't afford. The bleeding wasn't severe. It would have to wait.
He could throw the cushions away and get more.
Checking his clothing for spots of blood, he considered his next move.
Discussing things with Nalcet might help, but it would not get him any closer to achieving his goal. He still had the problem of the impostor deal with and the Black King's Seal to find.
The only person who might have some idea where that damned seal was had just been returned to the dungeon.
A sharp triple rap on his door snatched his attention and sent him hurrying to answer it.
When he opened the door, he was confronted by Counselor Sherac, his beard still damp undoubtedly from being snowed in.
"The council is convening. You are expected."
The counselor stalked away leaving Kendrick to decide his course of action.
The Voice knew he didn't dare not appear. In their current climate, such an absence would create questions. Without Versa there to give him some excuse, he could not hide. He cast an eye back to the doorway where he had left her. He had no choice but to leave her behind. She would, hopefully, wake while he was gone.
The few droplets of blood on his tunic could be hidden or excused. He had no time to change. Instead, he steeled himself.
There would be questions. He needed to know the answers before they were asked. He strode out of the room and the door fell shut behind him.
A Council of Lies
The council chamber fell silent as Kendrick entered, every eye turning to him. In most cases, there were accusations. In others, simple confusion. He did not care about either. The time in the halls had given him a chance to compose himself and fix his features to hide his concerns. Striding to his seat, he waved his hands for others who moved like unsettled birds to land in their own chairs.
"What in Ancel's armor just happened?" boomed a councilor. "Snow? In the Capital?"
He was not the only one voicing concern. It came from every corner of the room, a babble of noise Kendrick closed his ears against. Their franticness grated on his nerves. He let them go on without a word in spite of them directing their questions at him. Time to play the fool.
Calm entered slowly as Kendrick watched aware that Councilor Elisah, one of Leviana's favorites, watched him with deep avidity. The woman carried an ax wherever she went. One of the few councilors who remained armed even in the chamber, the rule about weapons being one she only nodded at.
Leviana ignored it and so did he. Except now it might offer him a reason to worry.
Silence settled in the room and the fidgeting of the assembled died down. Kendrick stood up and gestured once again for them to attend him.
"I can only say to you that what has happened is unprecedented. Many of us have seen the power of the Immortal and this was not it. Again, I say, we are faced with an impostor."
Knowing he could use the snow to his advantage came in the wait for calm. The snow proved his point. Leviana had never evidenced control over the elements, only the manipulation of light. This was beyond that. Far beyond it. And while the knowledge gave Kendrick disquiet, if he could use it, he would.
"What if it is simply something she has never shown?" Sherac's fear shone through in his voice. Of course, Leviana pegged him a coward and more and more Kendrick grew certain she had been right. Yet another something he could use to his advantage. "Her age far exceeds each of ours."
"This is true, but if she had such power, would she not have brought it to bear when her very life was forfeit before? Why was there no snow when the assassin stabbed her?"
Kendrick thanked the heavens for others being skeptical. They would do the work for him.
He let his eyes drift not seeking faces, but reading stances.
Sherac kept his eyes roving and his hands perched on the table like claws. In contrast, others kept their hands flat or hidden and their eyes steady. Three or four Kendrick cultivated toward his own ends. Perhaps he would be able to push things through the way he wanted.
"I call once again for the end of all this. The Empire is too great a jewel. Too many seek to own it. Therefore, we should disband it."
Some would gain quite a bit from his decision, if he could push it through.
Councilor Elisah's look down the table could have brought a swirl of frost into the room.
"Such a decision cannot be made without the expression of power."
"Yes," another said. "The Black King's seal is the only object that can give such power."
"It is time we dispense with such relics," another said. "Even the Immortal Leviana rarely brought the Seal out."
"It was not necessary. Her decisions came with the weight of her authority. He has no such authority."
"He has the authority given by the Immortal."
"Then he should be able to produce the Seal."
"We have been around and around this. The seal disappeared with the Immortal herself."
Kendrick heard little of what was said. The arguments had become commonplace since the disappearance of the Immortal. Some wanted the Seal to assure them of the authority of the gods over the decision to disband an empire nearly a thousand years old. Others, those he sought out and offered greatness, were willing to take a more pragmatic approach to governing. Of course, the fact that they stood to go from being Councilors in service of a crown to the crowned ones themselves sweetened their interest.
"Please," Kendrick said. "There is no reason for us to fight. The truth is apparent. The Immortal is gone. Only impostors seek to take her place. We have the ability to keep them from being able to do that."
&n
bsp; "Destroying everything both the Dear Immortal and the Black King built is hardly the way we keep that from happening. In fact, it seems only to hasten the reality of loss."
"We have lived with eternal conquest for our entire lifetimes."
"What do you any of you know of conquest? When have you fought in her wars?"
The recriminations flew like swallows, dipping low across the room. Few of them had ever served in her army. Those who had watched the rest of the room with hard eyes. The campaigns of the Immortal had not been easy for anyone.
Farnum, the previous Voice, had died as a result of his place in her schemes.
Kendrick let them bicker. He knew the words. None of it was new. His mind drifted to Versa who, he hoped, would be waking soon. Unfortunately, he could not very well predict the magic holding her captive. He could only guess. And hope.
Of course, knowing this went nowhere, he let it go on. He had to. Otherwise, someone would ask why he did not allow them to speak. It didn't matter that they were nattering away without a point, only that they were allowed to speak.
Finally, when a lull presented itself, he held up his hands for silence.
"We are deciding nothing."
The statement got several murmurs of assent and a few non-commital grunts.
"I understand that this council cannot move forward without the symbol of authority. Therefore, we will continue to search for it."
The replica of the seal was not ready. He needed it to be perfect. It had to pass scrutiny. It would be ready soon. Then he could present it as something found while keeping the others none the wiser. Versa would know, but she would never betray him.
"Thus unless we have something further to discuss, I am ordering the execution of the impostor. She cannot be allowed to threaten our control of the Empire with her very presence."
He saw misgivings on the faces of the assembled, but no one dissented. Her display of power sealed her fate.
Rising to his feet, he swept from the room as if he had somewhere more important to be. As if the fate of the world didn't hang on what was decided in that room.
Halfway back to his room, he changed direction. Though he knew Jalcina was not Leviana, that much was certain, he wondered if perhaps she might well know what happened to the seal. If Leviana stole it, could Jalcina have the memory?
He took the spiral staircase two steps at a time knowing she waited for him. The other would be there also, the former carrier of the Black King's soul, but he was of little import. Warden might have been a master assassin, but imprisoned and robbed of his extra soul, he was nothing in Kendrick's eyes. Stopping in front of her cell door, he rapped on it gently before opening it.
The girl inside did not cower. She pinned him down with her gaze, daring him to enter. Such an attitude for someone kept under lock and key. He entered and shut the unlocked door behind him.
"I need to know what you know," he said. She didn't respond but crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to say more.
"I need to know what you did with the seal."
"What seal?" Settling against the wall, she kept her eyes on him. Her face schooled to impassivity, he wanted to slap her for the look of shock it would cause.
"The seal of the Empire, the Black King's seal." His hope dwindled as she continued not to react. He closed the distance and gripped her upper arms to draw her to his face. "You have to know."
If he expected fear, he was disappointed. Jalcina blinked and spit in his face.
"Where is Vad'Alvarn?"
Vad'Alvarn. The Black King. The Usurper King. The Conqueror. The Father of the Empire. The soul Kendrick had hidden away in a jar. She spoke of him as one alive because he was as far as she remembered. He leaned in until they might very well kiss.
"He's dead."
Shock mobilized her face.
"He's been dead for three hundred years. Murdered the night he wed and his wife, Leviana, took the throne. The woman whose face you now wear." That wasn't true. Leviana's face was Jalcina's, just as her body had been. "The face you will wear to your execution."
To her credit, she didn't struggle or go limp, but stood her ground. The strength attracted him to her just as it drew him to Versa. A strength he could use to his own ends. Finally, heartbeats later, he let her go. She rubbed the places where he'd grabbed her arms.
"I will see to it that you are executed," he said as he headed for the door.
Jalcina said nothing. Kendrick hated to admit he wanted her to beg or bargain. Anything to break the facade of surety she wore around herself.
Anything to make her less enticing.
He put his hand on the door to silence and stepped out into the hall between cells with her spirit dogging him. Across the way, Warden stood at his cell door watching him. Kendrick acknowledged him with a nod and walked away. If the other prisoner had heard anything, it mattered little. They would both be dead soon enough.
Strangers
After observing Kendrick's exit, Warden stayed at the entrance to his cell waiting to signal Leviana. Her departure had been expected, but her return, not as much. He expected he would be released and escorted out after she won the duel. Except it appeared she had not won the duel or been killed.
He waited for her to come to her cell door.
Several minutes later, she still had not, so he called her name.
"Leviana!"
No response.
Had she been injured and couldn't come to the door?
The night before dragged itself into his vision. Versa leading them into an ambush led by Kendrick, the sapphire fire coming from his hands, and the knowledge of impending death spurring him forward to a fight he couldn't win. What if she had been injured and was succumbing to her injuries? No, too fatalistic for him. She had to be fine.
"Leviana."
"Shut up!"
He had forgotten about the guard. There was only one and he seemed just as likely to be not at his post as he was. Warden had almost come to think he and Leviana were alone in the bowels of the world. Of course, then someone like Kendrick appeared and reminded him there was a world above the stairs he imagined at the end of the hall.
Finally, she peered out through the door. Relief threatened to choke him.
"Are you all right?" he asked. She noticed him and cocked her head to one side. The fall of her hair was wrong and her eyes…
Those were not her eyes.
Gorgeous, but not hers.
His relief twisted into uncertainty and tied a knot around his throat.
"Who are you?"
Jalcina understood his question, but didn't answer immediately. He wanted to know who she was. Didn't he know? Everyone knew her among his retinue.
Three hundred years the man said. If that was true, then no one would know her.
Vad'Alvarn was dead. Navar was dead. Her father was dead. Lecern was dead. Everyone she knew. Everyone she loved. Everyone who mattered. Dead and gone.
Seeing how tattered the banner for Sartol had become, there was a chance even the kingdom no longer existed.
The strong face she showed Kendrick threatened to shatter as a tear worked its way out of her right eye.
"Who are you?" she asked instead, drawing away from her own pain. They were both imprisoned. Perhaps they could help one another. "What was your crime?"
"The crime I'll be executed for is killing you."
Jalcina shook her head against it. How could he be executed for killing her when there was no doubt she lived?
"I don't understand."
"Leviana, they're saying I murdered you."
"I'm not Leviana," she whispered. Kendrick said she wore Leviana's face, except her face felt no different than it had any day in her life. The same nose and eyes and mouth she had always had. "But he said I wear her face."
Jalcina watched his expression as it contorted without knowing what he felt. Several times, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. If she had her wish, she'd be
able to read his mind. Except she couldn't, so she had to wait for him to open his mouth and have actual words come out. It was comical in a horrible way, the faces he made as she was waiting. Perhaps in a last ditch attempt to make sense of it all, he asked again,
"Who are you?"
Her entire life she had been Jalcina of Sartol, daughter of Mordaen, heir apparent to a kingdom so small it hardly merited the title. Then Vad'Alvarn kidnapped her. She remembered that time in unsteady spurts that turned like consuming whirlpools. He had been the first to call her Leviana. Now that specter haunted her all over again. This time though the horror would consume her in death.
Not if she could help it.
"Jalcina." The stones repeated her name in an echoed whisper. "Who are you?"
"Warden." He did not elaborate and she didn't ask him for anything further. She turned her attention to the cell door itself.
Vad'Alvarn never brought her into anything resembling a dungeon. The closest she had ever come was the bathing room deep in Kerlan. She demanded to see him and he had been something else. The memory grew misty around the edges after she stepped into the heated water. What had been dark grew darker. She shook the thoughts away. Vad'Alvarn was dead. She had other things to worry about.
"What can you tell me about what is going on?"
"Maybe you can tell me," he said. "You were supposed to go into a trial by combat with only one winner. Did you kill the Trusted?"
Jalcina remembered her opponent standing stock still at the end of it all. She hadn't appeared dead or alive, but simply there, like a statue dripping blood.
"No, I didn't."
"Then how is it that you aren't dead? The Voice said you win or you die."
"The trial was cut short by a blizzard," she said. It sounded so strange as she said it. Snow on the Burning Island of all places?
"It doesn't snow here." Warden knew a blizzard. In Utica, they were a staple. "That's impossible."
"Yet it happened. I stood there as the snow deepened and finally they sent a guard for me to bring me back to this cell, so here I stand." Let him think whatever he wanted, she knew a blizzard when she saw it. Her childhood had been dotted with them. "And that man says I will be executed as an impostor wearing Leviana's face."
Ruins of Fate (Fate Circle Saga Book 3) Page 2
