A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence)

by Hogan, Mitchell

  Both men fixed their eyes on him.

  “What’s the plan now, Aidan?” asked the sorcerer.

  Cel Rau spat into the fire. “That city is bad. We aren’t likely to get inside.”

  Aidan scratched his arm. “We still need to find the sorcerers we’ve been following.”

  Chalayan looked pleased at his words. He will need watching, thought Aidan. The lure of power for his kind was strong.

  “They’re a danger,” Aidan continued. “You saw what they did. They are evil.” He looked at the sorcerer and the swordsman in turn, meeting their eyes. Both nodded in agreement.

  “Getting inside is impossible,” said Chalayan. “But… I don’t think they went inside. The barrier went up before they got here, and as I said before, it feels different.” He shifted his weight and shrugged.

  “Which means they either backtracked or turned north or south?”

  “I’m pretty sure they didn’t backtrack and pass us. I would have felt them.” Chalayan’s hand strayed to touch his trinket.

  “So north or south.”

  “Send some scouts each way,” said cel Rau gruffly.

  Aidan nodded. “Yes. See to it.”

  Cel Rau stood and left without a word.

  “Chalayan?” said Aidan.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you match them?”

  The sorcerer stood and stretched his legs, grimacing at the stiffness. “I would have thought it was obvious I can’t,” he admitted. “In a pure power against power fight, they are far above me. They do things I would never have thought possible. But I have a few tricks.”

  “Think of a few more. I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

  Chalayan gave a nervous laugh. “Believe me, I’ve been thinking of little else since we found them, but… if Caitlyn were here… Sorry…”

  “No. It’s all right. Go ahead.”

  “If she were here, we would probably go charging after them… and would die.” He shrugged. “We need help. Maybe from the Sorcerers’ Guild, that’s if they’re still alive.”

  Aidan thought for a few moments. “I agree. The Quivers —”

  “I don’t think soldiers would do much good,” interrupted Chalayan. “You saw what happened to ours. I fear we are overmatched. That way would mean our deaths.”

  “And we won’t do any good dead.” Aidan smiled grimly and gave the ash another poke.

  A boot scuffed, and a shadow fell across the fire. Aidan looked up, squinting into the evening sun. A large, elderly man stood between him and Chalayan. The man cleared his throat. Aidan stood. To his eyes the man appeared unarmed, though looks were deceiving, as they all knew. He had his hands spread in a non-threatening gesture.

  Aidan assessed the stranger for any menace. Though overweight, he wore a fine dark shirt with silver buttons down the front and pants tucked into polished leather boots.

  Both Aidan and Chalayan glanced around the camp. Their men hadn’t alerted them to the stranger’s presence, which meant they hadn’t seen him approach.

  “Who are you? How did you get into our camp?” demanded Aidan. His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword. Chalayan took a step backward, increasing the distance between him and the stranger.

  “My apologies for the abrupt appearance.” The man’s voice rang through the clearing, though his accent was strange to Aidan’s ears. “But I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.”

  Aidan and Chalayan exchanged a quick look. There was no way someone could have overheard them, not without being close enough to be seen.

  Aidan took a step towards the man. If he’s a sorcerer then he wouldn’t have a chance unless he was closer. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “You may call me Mazoet.” He bowed from the waist. “Mazoet Miangline, at your service.”

  Chalayan took another step back and flicked Aidan a warning look. Sweat spotted the sorcerer’s face, and he clutched at his trinket.

  Aidan spoke. “You’re a sorcerer.”

  Mazoet Miangline frowned then tilted his head in acknowledgement of the statement. “That’s what you would call me, yes. Though I must say, it’s not what we call ourselves.”

  “You’re one of them, the sorcerers?”

  Mazoet shook his head. “No. Well, yes, but no.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “They have strayed.”

  Strayed? What does that mean? Aidan noted all his men had stopped whatever they were doing and stared at the three of them. The stranger noticed him noticing.

  “He’s opened his well,” Chalayan said quietly.

  “My…well?” Mazoet said, puzzled, then realization came to his face. “Oh. Of course. A mere precaution only. You can understand my provisions to safeguard myself.”

  Aidan held a hand up to his men, gesturing them not to approach. “What do you know of the sorcerers we’ve been following and what they did to the women they captured?”

  Frowning, Mazoet ran a hand through his graying hair. “What women?” he said. “What use would they have for…” He broke off and a horrified look came across his face. He hissed under his breath. “What happened? Tell me everything,” he demanded.

  “Wait a moment. We don’t know who you are and… “

  “Listen to me,” interrupted Mazoet, voice commanding. “You will tell me. Now. I need to make a decision quickly.”

  Chalayan and Aidan exchanged looks. Chalayan gave a short nod.

  Aidan wasn’t sure what the man’s business was, but he seemed to have an interest in them and the sorcerers they were following. He came to a decision. “We were following some men who we suspected of… something. They killed one of our scouts with sorcery and also a number of other men. They led us to a town, where we were attacked by sorcery.”

  “Quickly, boy,” said Mazoet. His eyes scanned the grass to the west.

  Aidan bristled at his tone but continued. “We found a building near the center of the town. There were women inside, tied to beds. They were breeding them against their will.”

  A hard look came into Mazoet’s eyes.

  Chalayan gasped. “What are you?” he whispered.

  “Do you swear this is true?” Mazoet said, the calm of his words belying the storm in his eyes.

  “I do.”

  Mazoet turned to Chalayan. “And you?”

  The sorcerer only nodded.

  Mazoet shook his head, jowls wobbling, his shoulders slumped, deflated. “Fools,” he said softly, so quietly Aidan almost didn’t hear him. He pointed at Chalayan. “You, you’re what they call a sorcerer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stay well out of the way, please.”

  “Out of what?” asked Aidan.

  “The sorcerers you were following are on their way here. They knew you were trailing them. I wasn’t sure what they were up to, but now I know. You’re in danger.” He gestured to the whole camp. “All of you. And I need you as witnesses. You have to tell the First Deliverer what you saw.”

  “We aren’t defenseless…” began Aidan.

  “You are. I’m going to have to reveal myself. This could get… troublesome.”

  “I can help,” offered Chalayan, oddly subdued.

  Mazoet looked at the sorcerer for a few moments. “Ah… Perhaps you should stay out of this. If it comes down to fighting, and I hope it doesn’t, then you can make sure no one gets hurt. I’ll be fine. Look to your men.”

  Chalayan nodded.

  “They’ll be here soon,” continued Mazoet. “Round up your men and make sure they stay behind me. It’ll be easier if everyone is clustered together.”

  Aidan took a step in the direction of cel Rau, who stood with a few of the men, hands on swords, ready for trouble, then stopped.

  “What decision did you need to make?” he asked Mazoet.

  “Whether you lived.”

  Aidan gathered the men together while Chalayan drew a circle around them, using a spade to scribe a line in the hard earth. Mazoet raised his eyebrows at this then s
tepped outside the ring. He turned his back and fixed his gaze to the west, where the sun dipped towards the hills in the distance.

  Aidan, Chalayan and cel Rau had engaged in a heated argument in front of the men, something Aidan disliked intensely, but there was no helping it. They needed to discuss what was going on, and the men needed to know. In the end they had reluctantly agreed to, if not trust this strange man, then to see if he was right about the sorcerers coming after them.

  Chalayan kept glancing at Mazoet.

  “What is it?” Aidan asked.

  “It’s… him. He feels like one of the sorcerers we were following. He did say he was one of them, then changed to say he wasn’t.”

  Cel Rau spoke. “From what I heard, I think they are at odds. The ones we’re chasing are bad apples. And this guy is here to clean up the mess.”

  “It certainly looks that way. Chalayan, what do you think?”

  “I think we’re in over our heads. This… Mazoet… his well is powerful. I’ve never felt the like before. I need to keep preparing, though I doubt it will do much good.” Chalayan busied himself with his circle, taking four flat stones from his pack and placing them around the circle at even spaces. Each bore runes etched into their hard surface.

  Cel Rau eyed Chalayan warily. “He’s spooked,” he said to Aidan. “He has seen what they are capable of and knows his sorcery can’t stand against it.”

  We place ourselves in the hands of this strange sorcerer, thought Aidan. “Yes. So we are to rely on this stranger. Can’t say I’m happy about it.”

  Cel Rau shrugged. “Unless we run, there isn’t much we can do. This way we see if he can be trusted. If we survive.”

  With a grimace, Aidan eyed Chalayan, who sat inside his circle facing Mazoet. “Let’s hope he can shield all of us.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t have to.”

  A murmur rose from the men surrounding them, and they both turned to see two shapes standing at the edge of the clearing. Mazoet and Chalayan were staring at the figures. Mazoet stood relaxed, but Chalayan’s hands clenched into fists, and his face glowed with a sweaty sheen.

  Both of the newcomers were thin, unlike Mazoet, though they stood a good foot shorter than him. With a start, Aidan realized they were young, barely out of childhood, and one was a girl.

  She called out in a high-pitched voice. “Mazoet. Leave here.”

  Wind blew through the leaves of the trees and the grasses surrounding them as Mazoet remained unmoving. “I will not. The First Deliverer will hear of this and of what has been uncovered.”

  Holding a hand over her mouth, the girl tittered. For such a young girl, she had an odd bearing. She held herself with a confidence only age could bring. She turned to her companion and words were whispered between them.

  The girl raised her arms high in the air. Aidan heard Chalayan take a hissing breath through clenched teeth. Pale blue light sprang up around Mazoet, covering him like a second skin.

  “Do not do this,” he boomed. “You will be excised.”

  The girl smiled and laughed again. “Join us. Come, we offer more than that fool Gazija could ever imagine.”

  “We cannot travel down that path.”

  “We can. We will.”

  They both quietened, and the girl, arms still raised, clenched her fists. Air crackled, and a vibration filled the space around them. Two blue glows joined Mazoet’s as shields surrounded the girl and her companion. A dark cloud formed and enveloped them.

  “Oh crap,” breathed Chalayan, and thrust a hand out to touch the stone.

  Lightning arced from the girl’s fists, slamming into Mazoet. Strands weaved around him towards Aidan and his men, stopping suddenly as they crashed into a barrier surrounding them, revealing a transparent dome. Thunder roared. Aidan’s hands clamped over his ears in a vain attempt to block the deafening noise.

  Chalayan keeled over in a faint, and the stone he touched cracked in two. With a faint popping sound, the dome surrounding them winked out. Filaments of lightning streaked into two men, igniting them like torches. Screams of agony pierced the night. As they rolled in the dirt, others attempted to smother the flames with their coats.

  “Do not leave the circle!” boomed Mazoet. “On your life!” His shield glowed brightly as strand after strand of lightning arced from the girl into him. He stepped back to the edge of the circle.

  As the girl’s attacks continued, her companion remained motionless.

  Another dome appeared around Aidan and his men, this one glowing a pale red. Steam rose from the bodies of the two men who had been hit by lightning. Aidan stared in horror at the corpses.

  Mazoet grunted with effort. Glowing red balls trailing sparks sprung up around him and shot towards the girl and her companion. Corkscrewing through the air, they slammed into her from all directions, and she fell back on her ass. The look on her face was pure fury.

  Her companion picked her up, clothes smoking even through her shield. He kept a hold of her hand. She drew herself straight. Lightning flashed from her free hand, redoubled in ferocity. Around Mazoet, his shield grew in brightness as it absorbed the lightning. Soon he glowed brilliantly, white light hurting Aidan’s eyes, a keening sound filling the air.

  Aidan clamped his hands over his ears. Around him, most of his men were on their knees with their eyes closed. Some were praying. This is where we all die, he thought. I’m sorry, Caitlyn.

  Mazoet knelt and thumped a fist into the ground. A wave of dirt rose up and burst out. It hit the girl and her companion like a runaway horse, sending them both tumbling back.

  Mazoet struck the ground again, sending another wave. The girl stood firm, only to be met with another volley of the glowing red balls, these ones appearing out of nowhere above her and slamming down.

  She must have diverted strength from her shield to ward against the wave, as some red balls broke through.

  She gave an inhuman shriek. Aidan collapsed as the sound penetrated his skull.

  Another wave sent the girl and boy flying backwards into the dark. Her clothes burst into flame, and her companion threw himself on her to smother them. Wrapped around each other, they rolled in the dirt.

  With the flames extinguished, the girl and her companion recovered and backed away, glaring at Mazoet. After a few paces, they turned and ran.

  Mazoet’s shoulders slumped. Cel Rau staggered to his feet, reaching for Chalayan and checking him for signs of life. The swordsman met Aidan’s eye and nodded.

  Aidan’s head pounded. He wiped his ear, hand coming away red with blood. Steam rose from the ground outside the circle.

  Mazoet turned to face them. “That went well, don’t you think?” he said with a weary grin.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  A flicker of movement down the hallway. Caldan kept his eye to the keyhole, watching for further indications they had been discovered.

  Moments ago, a rattling of metal had woken them both. Blurry-eyed, Caldan raised his head from the workbench where he had fallen asleep. Senira groaned as she levered herself to a sitting position.

  Caldan raised a finger to his lips. Metal rattled as the door latch was tried again and voices murmured on the other side. Footsteps retreated.

  He saw movement but couldn’t identify who had been there. Senira came up behind him.

  “I think we’ve been discovered,” he whispered.

  Senira immediately looked frightened.

  “It was bound to happen, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m guessing they’ve been rechecking all the areas to see if anything has changed, and this door wasn’t locked before. They’re probably looking for something to open it with.”

  “We should get out of here.”

  Caldan pulled her away from the door and into the workshop area. She’s right. We should avoid fighting, if we can. “If they look through the keyhole, they’ll see us in here. We need to pack up and leave before
they come back.”

  Senira nodded and busied herself gathering the food and bits and pieces they thought would be useful. Caldan went to the workbench and hurriedly stuffed the pieces of metal and paper into his sack.

  “Leave the pile of rags and the teapot,” he said. “They know someone’s been here, so don’t waste time hiding them.”

  “If you say so. What are you doing?”

  Caldan reached up and placed one of his paper figures into a nook in the brick wall. He glanced around then placed another figure above the main door, sitting on the lintel. Opening his well, he linked to both of the craftings. Keeping two strings going for any amount of time was difficult, but he could manage.

  “They look creepy.” Senira eyed the figures with suspicion then went back to gathering their scavenged supplies.

  “They’re just craftings. Weak ones at that. They’ll be able to sense who comes in here and relay that back to me.”

  “Why do you have to make them look like people?”

  “Because… one day I hope to be able to make them move,” Caldan replied with a shrug.

  Senira shuddered. “That’s definitely creepy.”

  “No it’s not. I can get paper animals to move, but it’s harder with stronger materials.”

  Senira shook her head. “Come on. You can experiment all you like once we get out of here and we’re safe with the masters.”

  She sounded confident they would reach safety without any problems. Caldan wished he was as sure.

  Muffled voices reached their ears.

  “Quickly,” hissed Caldan, grabbing Senira’s shoulder and propelling her towards the other door. He opened his well and disengaged the crafting lock he had placed on the door.

  Senira poked her head outside. “All clear… I think.”

  Caldan stood close behind her and pushed his head through the gap above her blonde hair. It looked clear, but he wanted to be certain.

  He reached into a pocket and drew out a paper shape covered in runes. Unfolding its wings, he frowned in concentration, linking it to his well, and then gently tossed the crafting into the corridor. Pressure built in his head as he maintained the three strings.