Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3)

by Hans Cummings

  “That’s kind of how I ended up here, too.” Delilah rubbed the base of her neck. “I rescinded those decrees. You may pay your dues since you’re here, but we’re not sending slayers out to collect delinquents anymore.”

  Alysha smacked her leg. “Good! An archmage with sense.”

  “Follow the stairs all the way down. Then cross the yard to the gate house. The guards can direct you to the Arcane University. I’m sure you can find Seneschal Lyov once you’re there.” I’m not going to let this strange woman lead me around. She turned to return to the battlement.

  “You’re turning your back on me?”

  Delilah faced Alysha. “Your dramatic arrival interrupted a meeting in progress with the archduke. Until I’ve heard otherwise, you’re no more important to me than any other wizard. So, if you want my time, make an appointment.” Delilah turned and climbed the stairs without uttering another word, leaving the Frost Queen sputtering in the stairwell.

  Theros and Archduke Fyodar still stood on the battlement when Delilah returned to them. The minotaur looked on while the archduke instructed his men to closely observe the dragon but not to disturb it.

  “Where’s the Frost Queen?” Theros left the archduke to deliver his instructions and strode with Delilah to the battlement overlooking the crossroads. The fields and hills still bore the scars of the drak’s battle with Archmage Vilkan.

  “I sent her onward to the Arcane University. I told her if she wanted to speak to me in private, she needed to make an appointment like any other wizard.”

  Theros’s eyes bulged, and a strangled noise came from his throat.

  “She’s just another mage to me.” Delilah sniffed and leaned on her staff.

  Staring at the archmage, the minotaur shook his head and laughed. “Oh, the stodgy old humans that run the guild are going to love you.” He glanced at the archduke, who was walking and talking with several guard captains. “He might be a while. Fyodar wants you present when the giants arrive. We’ll send for you.”

  Delilah turned to protest but reconsidered. The archduke would not likely want her input on crucial negotiations, just her presence. “Fine. If I’m not at the Arcane University, I may be visiting my brother. His home is in the undercity.” She described the location for Theros, as best as possible, considering she couldn’t recall any of the street names.

  “I’m familiar with the area.” Theros led her down stairs. “For the record, I think you’re going to make a fine archmage. I would be honored to assist you in any way you need.”

  The minotaur bowed to the drak, dipping his horns low enough that Delilah could touch them if she so chose. He turned, sweeping his robes behind him, and returned to the upper levels. Delilah made her way to the Arcane University with a knot of dread in her stomach. Theros’s reaction to her treatment of this so-called Frost Queen caused her to second-guess her actions.

  She paused before the university gates. Everything appeared normal. “Well, Deli-girl, it’s not the first time you stepped in it. It won’t be the last.”

  ***

  Gisella strapped on her pouches and checked her gear. She didn’t anticipate trouble while wandering to the various temples in Vlorey, particularly since they were clustered together in their own walled district, but it never hurt to be prepared. She tossed her cloak onto the bed. Loath as she was to leave it behind, the weather was still too warm for it.

  She turned to leave and noticed Qaliah standing in their doorway. The fiendling leaned with one hand over her head, fingering her horns. “Mind if I tag along?”

  “No, I suppose not. Why?” Gisella clicked her fingers as she remembered her hair tie. After searching for a few minutes in vain, she stepped past the fiendling and pulled the door shut, pausing to lock it.

  “I’ve had enough of listening to salacious rumors about nobles’ social lives. You and Pancras seem to actually have a purpose, and well”—the fiendling chuckled—“I may not be exactly welcome in a lot of the nearby taverns for a few days.”

  “I don’t even want to know.” Gisella speculated on the trouble the fiendling caused, but she preferred not to fully contemplate it.

  “No, you probably don’t.”

  The two women left the Screeching Griffon together. Gisella, although glad for the company, hoped Qaliah’s presence didn’t disrupt her plans. The Golden Slayer intended to visit several temples but no taverns. Since her visit to the one temple she was certain could help bore no fruit the day prior, she anticipated the day would be difficult.

  Scattered clouds brought patchy relief from the oppressive heat of the sun, and a cool breeze from the bay somewhat mitigated the humidity. The streets leading toward the temple district were not busy this early in the morning, as only Apellon’s temple, the Sun Cathedral, held morning services, and those had already completed. From her observations, Gisella determined Vlorey did not venerate only one deity over all the others as was the custom in many of the towns she had visited. Instead, three seemed most prominent: Anetha, Tinian, and Hon.

  The Hearth of the Sacred Family, Hon’s temple, sat closest to the bridge by which Gisella and Qaliah entered the temple district. Erected on a stepped platform, wider than it was deep, massive columns surrounded the temple. The roof extended to the tops of the columns, and smoke rose from twin chimneys set into the ridgeline. Located in the center of the long wall, a pair of wrought iron gates composed the main entrance. Gisella did not recognize the symbol, a triangle and cross set inside a circle, carved into the keystone above the gates.

  The two women entered through the gates, which stood ajar. Gisella felt her palms grow clammy upon crossing the threshold. Hon and Aurora were not exactly allies. Hon, who appreciated structure and discipline, viewed the goddess of love as irresponsible and capricious.

  Magical sconces, not unlike those at the Arcane University, lit the inside corridor. It led to a T-intersection, which Gisella judged to sit in about the center of the building. A sign posted on the wall indicated those seeking contract services, including contracts of marriage, should go left while all others should proceed to the right.

  Qaliah nudged Gisella as she pointed at the sign and grinned. “Are we getting married?”

  The Golden Slayer laughed and turned right. “Not today.”

  The corridor led to a pair of iron-banded oaken doors, through which the women entered the temple’s main gathering space. The hearth room featured a rectangular depression in the floor that ran almost the length of the room. Iron grates covered either end of the fireplace, while the center remained open, allowing priests to tend the hearth.

  Several small groups stood in clusters around the room. Gisella determined from their garb they were not priests. She noticed two priests on either side of the fire, stoking it with fresh logs taken from piles at the sides of the room. Although they kept the flames low and steady, the fire added to the heat of the day, and Gisella felt fresh beads of sweat drip down her spine.

  A man wearing leather-trimmed black robes approached them with open arms and a smile. His close-cropped curly greying hair framed his face, and his steel-colored eyes sat deep behind a wide nose.

  “Welcome to the Hearth of the Sacred Family. Hon’s blessings be upon you.”

  Gisella placed her palm on her chest and bowed, nudging the fiendling to do the same. “Thank you. My friend and I are hoping to find some information.”

  “I am Hearth Master Nolan. I would be happy to…” His smiled faded when he saw the golden seashell hanging at the base of Gisella’s neck. He regarded both women and sneered, “We want nothing to do with your debauchery here.”

  The fiendling poked him in the chest. “You could use some debauchery.”

  He stepped backward, pulling a stylized hearth amulet from within his robes. He thrust the symbol in Qaliah’s direction. “Back, Fiendling! I’ll not fall prey to your corruptions!”

  The fiendling grabbed the priest’s arm, pulling it downward and twisted it behind his back as she spun him.
In a flash, one of her daggers pressed into the soft flesh under his chin.

  “It’s not nice to go sticking bits of metal in someone’s face.”

  Gisella caught the fiendling’s arm and lowered her weapon. Qaliah released Hearth Master Nolan without having to be prompted by Gisella, and the man backpedaled, holding his symbol aloft and calling out for assistance.

  “Damn it.” Gisella pulled Qaliah along as she retreated toward the hallway. “Obviously, we must look elsewhere for the help we need.”

  She flung the fiendling into the hallway and bowed to Hearth Master Nolan before she turned and ran. Within moments, the women returned to the street, losing themselves in the crowd.

  Chapter 12

  Clink, clank, whirr, whirr, whirr.

  Clank, buzz, clink, clink, clink.

  Kale dreamt of wheels and gears. Motion. Spinning. Locking, unlocking.

  Clink, whirr, clink, clink, clink.

  Intricate mechanisms, clear as day, sprang into his mind. A box opened, and Kale’s eyes snapped wide. His mate slept curled up at his side. Not wishing to disturb her, he rolled out of bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and left the bedchamber.

  At least I’m not dreaming of The Sundering. The flickering flame from a passing torch in the hand of a patrolling guard cast dancing shadows on the counter. Without stepping outside to examine the positions of the stars and moons, Kale could not determine how long until dawn broke. He decided instead to open the door to the cellar and acquaint himself with the volumes that lined the shelves along the stairs. The drak ran a clawed finger along the spine of a thick tome bound in faded, red leather. The sweet smell of vanilla and almond assaulted him as he stood with his snout near the books. It reminded him of sweets from a nearby bakery. His stomach rumbled.

  Now that his puzzle box was no longer a pressing mystery, the drak needed something to occupy his time. Back home in Drak-Anor, there was no shortage of defenses to tune, but the defense needs of an aboveground city full of bigoted humans were much different, and he wasn’t keen on volunteering to help tune siege weapons or build traps.

  He hoped to find a diversion in one of the old tomes. Kale figured that since Delilah was out from under the boot of the human archmage, she would spend most of her time investigating the purpose of the runed circle in the cavern beneath his home. However, his sister had come by only once since she defeated Manless. He decided to search through every one of these ancient books and solve the cavern’s puzzle himself.

  The drak began at the top of the stairs with the volume closest to the door. It was written in a language he couldn’t read, so he moved down the line. He perused histories, cookbooks, and personal journals, many of them unintelligible to him, but a few volumes stood out. He pulled out each tome of interest a little farther than the rest on the shelf as he picked through the rows one by one.

  A muffled scream interrupted his ruminations. He ran up the stairs and into the shop. Two draks stood at the cloudy shop window, shielding their eyes from the sun’s glare as they peered into the street. More screams from outside relieved his anxiety that the earlier scream was his mate’s.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Oh! Kale, we were just trying to find that out ourselves.” Ori stepped away from the window.

  Kali motioned for Kale to join her. “Where were you? I thought you were out. People are running around and looking up. Maybe another giant is falling from the sky?”

  Kale opened the shop’s door and joined the throngs of draks and minotaurs staring and pointing above them. He searched with his eyes, and then he saw the leathery wings, the ridged spine, and the long, sinuous neck.

  A dragon.

  Kale’s heart leapt until he realized because of the way the sun glinted off the dragon’s scales, like packed snow covered with ice, it probably was not Terrakaptis

  The dragon circled and flew out of sight toward Grimstone Keep. Kale pushed through the crowd and headed toward the upper city. He heard Kali calling after him and stopped long enough for her to catch up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Kale pointed to the sky. “I need to find that dragon.”

  His mate clutched his arm. “Why? What do you think that’s going to accomplish?”

  He pointed at the sigil on his chest. “If it’s attacking the city, I can stop it. Maybe it’s looking for the egg.”

  “Kale”—she pulled him toward her—“it’s probably hungry, angry, and looking to do some damage.”

  Even if that were true, Kale didn’t believe the dragon would harm him. After what he saw in the puzzle box, he wasn’t sure he cared about its intentions toward the humans.

  He tapped the sigil on his chest again. “I know it won’t hurt me. Terrakaptis gave me this. He knew something like this would happen.”

  She released him. “Fine. Then I’m coming with you.”

  He paused. “Should we bring the egg?”

  “That’s crazy. The dragon will assume we stole it.”

  “I’d rather have it and not need it than go all the way out there and have to come all the way back for it.”

  Kali huffed. “Fine. Wait for me here. I’ll go get it.” As she left, Kale overheard her muttering herself about how she was going to sneak it past Ori. While she was gone, Kale purchased a few hand pies for them to eat while they traveled. After a short time, Kali returned, carrying the egg on her back within the enchanted harness, and they sped through the streets, ducking under minotaur legs and dodging humans who ran to their families. City guards shouted at people to clear the streets, and many took their posts on the city’s battlements.

  They couldn’t see the dragon, but shouting from the people in the streets guided them toward Grimstone Keep. They had almost reached it when Kale saw the dragon fly overhead again toward the countryside. He led Kali through a side street and continued toward the nearest city gate.

  When the two draks arrived at the gate, guards barred their way. They held out their hands, and one sentinel stepped forward. “None shall pass, by order of Captain Tepes.”

  The gates beyond were barred shut, and the portcullis had been lowered. Kale pleaded to be allowed out of the city to no avail. He turned his back on the guards and searched for alternatives. Guard towers flanked the gate, to the right of which stood a small stable and to the left stood a warehouse. Kale and Kali detoured down an alley that passed between the warehouse and the next building, a burned shell that might once have been someone’s home. Behind the warehouse ran another alley, narrow enough he could touch the city wall with one hand and the wall of the warehouse with the other while walking down the center of it. Kali followed behind him.

  He glanced up. The battlement hung over the alley far enough that climbing the wall while carrying it risked disaster for the dragon egg. Climbing to the roof of the warehouse appeared easier and safer. Kale jumped up, digging his claws into the mortar between the stones and using the city wall for additional support. Once he had a firm grip, Kali secured the pack with the egg between his wings and followed him, helping him find footing as they climbed.

  When they reached the roof of the warehouse, they scrambled up to the peak. At the end, farther from the gate, a section of the city wall extended over the city to go around a watchtower. The peak on which they stood did not quite meet the battlement, but it ran closer than along the other sections. For an adept jumper, it was a dangerous, possibly deadly, jump. Trained jumpers didn’t have wings, however.

  Kale handed Kali the egg, placed his arms around his mate, and spread his wings. Together, they leaped and he flapped his wings, using all of his strength. Gaining just enough altitude, he grabbed hold of the edge of the battlement, and they scrabbled their legs to gain purchase on the rough stone. The clanking of armor and scraping of boots against the surface of the parapet alerted them to the presence of a passing sentry. They dangled quietly until the he passed before pulling themselves onto the battlement.

  Wary guards
on either side watching for danger spotted the draks as soon as they mounted the battlement. They shouted and drew their weapons, charging toward Kale and Kali. Wasting no time, Kali pulled his mate forward and sprang off the opposite side, spreading his wings and catching an updraft that allowed them to glide. The shouting guards receded into the distance, and to Kale’s relief, they did not shoot them with their bows.

  As he struggled to maintain altitude, he searched for the dragon, locating it ahead a few miles, near a farm. It sat near a paddock of cows that sped toward the opposite side of their enclosure, jumping over one another in a desperate attempt to avoid becoming a midday snack.

  When they set down in a grassy meadow, Kali shoved her mate away. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to stop going along with your crazy ideas.”

  He didn’t know quite how to respond, adjusting the straps of the egg harness before he donned it. “Come on, let’s meet this dragon.”

  ***

  Gisella didn’t stop running until they entered a small plaza near the Garden Gallery.

  “Hee! That was fun.” Qaliah held her side and giggled. “Still, having people turn me away because of this”—she flicked her tail—“and these”—she pointed to her horns—“is starting to wear thin.”

  “Things couldn’t have been that much better in Muncifer.” Gisella had not followed Qaliah’s comings and goings in the southern city. Indeed, she had barely interacted with her, despite having spent so much time at the Arcane University.

  “They weren’t, but at least they liked me at the Enchanter’s Focus.” The fiendling sheathed her dagger and strode into the grassy area underneath a willow tree. She sighed and picked at some leaves on one of the branches.

  “You can remain here, if you like.” Gisella laid her hand on the fiendling’s shoulder. She understood the trepidation of ignorant folk when dealing with fiendlings. However, despite misgivings about Qaliah’s recklessness, she found her likeable enough. “These people fear what they don’t understand.”