Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  “I... I... Yes, I did,” Kesh stammered, his newly kindled anger dashed by the presence of his master.

  High-pitched screams that could only be Bon and sounds of a struggle erupted behind Vinnicus.

  Kesh couldn’t see the wailing giant, but it seemed that at least part of what he had hoped to befall the man was indeed coming to pass. Vinnicus tilted his head expectantly at Kesh, utterly ignoring the sounds.

  The chancellor wet his lips and tried to focus on the emotionless black eyes of his master. “He’s buying land but not reporting the purchases to the hall of records. He’s buying the land and then making it disappear.”

  Vinnicus’s expression remained unchanged. “Why is this relevant to me?”

  “Well...” Kesh gulped. “It’s quite a large sum of land. And the location is... odd.”

  “Where?”

  “To the north, my lord. Along the elven border of Asynia.”

  Vinnicus’s carved lips slowly shifted into a frown as he considered Kesh’s words. He stood motionless while Bon’s howling began to fade. Finally he asked, “What else have you discovered?”

  Kesh was about to respond that he had found nothing more, but a thought came to mind. Jagger had mentioned going north. In and of itself, this could mean anything, but Harrelfol had not yielded his lands to Banlor if the ledgers were correct. Kesh squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I believe he is sending his man, Jagger, north to finish dealings yet undone. Once these acquisitions are made, the minister of trade will have control over all the Basinian lands adjacent to Asynia. And no one will know but Banlor himself.”

  Bon’s gurgling screams abruptly ceased. A horrible, wet slurping sound replaced the sudden silence.

  Kesh shuddered at the horrid, viscous feel of it.

  Vinnicus reacted to this new sound with no more care than he had to Bon’s howling. “You have done well. Unfortunately, the information you have provided is incomplete.”

  In spite of himself, Kesh lifted an incredulous brow. Incomplete? he thought, on the verge of being offended. He was standing here, literally caked in filth, snatched from the brink of the death that had been ordered because of his success in uncovering this information, and he had braved the very den of his former master to do it. Images of Walina flittered in his mind, but he forced her macabre visage away. What else could Vinnicus possibly want?

  “You will follow Jagger north,” Vinnicus continued. “I would know of his doings and those of his master.”

  “What?!” Kesh blurted, stupefied. In the past ten years, he had rarely been this surprised. No, not rarely. Never. “B-but what of my duties here?” Desperation rattled his voice. “W-what of Sacha?”

  “As of now, she is no longer your concern,” Vinnicus said. Oddly, even though no emotion or timbre colored the deep voice, there was no room to interpret the words as anything other than a command. “Jagger is your priority.”

  Kesh placed his hands together as if in prayer. “But he will kill me, my lord,” he pleaded. The chancellor plucked at his ruined clothes as if he were presenting them as evidence. “I am not the right man for this.”

  No response came from Vinnicus other than his continued stillness.

  A chill ran down the chancellor’s spine. His master’s silence was a far more threatening experience than Banlor’s uncontrolled verbal and physical rebukes. Kesh desperately racked his thoughts for something that would change Vinnicus’s mind. He could not possibly follow Jagger north. It would be the end of him.

  The horrid slurping noise behind Vinnicus ebbed and ceased as Kesh stared at his impassive master. From the darkness beyond, the faint clacking of boots on cobbles filled the eerie silence as someone approached. A familiar, feminine shape emerged from the shadows, coming to a halt just beside Vinnicus.

  “You needn’t fear for your life, Chancellor,” Vinnicus finally said. “You will not be going alone.”

  Kesh gaped in disbelief. For the third time this night, no words would come to the chancellor. The world tilted as his eyes fluttered, and he fainted dead away.

  SACHA watched the brick buildings and wooden warehouses of the city go by through the window of her carriage as she returned from her latest lesson with Teacher. Every muscle quivered gently as if it had been her body that had received the workout, though today it had been her mind and spirit that had been put to the test. She had come from each of her lessons weary and battered, but she always looked forward to her return.

  She felt she had a right to be weary. Between the time spent in court, flying with the Rohdaekhann, and dodging quality time with Prince Alexander, it was amazing she had still found the time to read and take lessons on Basinian culture and history, which she was purported to be studying during the time she spent with Teacher and the Shamonrae. All together, her schedule was a grueling undertaking that made the days, weeks, and months simply slide by. She shook her head as she came to the realization that it had been more than half a year since Vinnicus had taken her sister’s life and forced her into the role of Prince Alexander’s bride.

  Sacha turned away from her study of the street and darker thoughts, opening herself to the Shamonrae. She could feel the rush of power and the shape of life keenly around her. Her studies with Teacher had been difficult—almost unbearable at times—but her development had been nothing short of astounding. As arcane power filled her and flowed through her, she could feel life in a way beyond sight and smell. Each thing that existed, whether it be a living being or inanimate object, impressed itself onto the Shamonrae, leaving a signature to mark its individuality. Teacher had been showing her how to distinguish these “impressions” until she could recognize who had entered a room by arcane sense alone.

  Sacha reached past the confines of the carriage with her arcane senses to touch the coach driver sitting on the bench above, as well as the footmen that rode on the rails behind. Past them, she could feel the presence of the soldiers and their mounts acting as rear guard. Their signatures were new to her and therefore difficult to single out as individuals—she felt more of a unified sense of life between horses and men than any singular recognition. Sacha refocused her attention and power toward the front of the carriage. There she found the steady presence of Rouke. She had become so familiar with his signature that she had no trouble separating it from the larger but less cohesive mark caused by his mount. She could even tell that the guardsman was relaxed at the moment by the subtle mellowness of his impression. In times of stress, Rouke’s unique mark tended to feel deeper or rigid. If she had to describe it to another person, she would liken it to a drawing of the man in which the artist had pressed his charcoal more firmly into the paper. The figure was exactly the same, but the lines were more bold, more definite. At the moment, Rouke’s lines were distinct, soft somehow.

  A sudden wave of weariness washed over Sacha. She quickly shortened her arcane reach back to the confines of the carriage.

  Since she had learned this ability, this “lifesense” as Teacher called it, Sacha had become very accustomed to the signature of another man who was now conspicuously absent—Chancellor Kesh Tomelen. Even with her eyes closed, Sacha could almost make out the confines of the carriage: walls, floor, ceiling, and padded bench. These were permanent fixtures she had come to rely on, and yet for the past four weeks, the most steadfast element of her routine had been missing. She sighed and released her hold on the Shamonrae, replacing her spectral vision of the empty carriage with the more mundane and somehow less robust sense of sight.

  Sacha scowled at the empty seat across from her. Kesh’s absence had bothered her more than she would have thought. To be sure, the man could be tiresome, but she had to admit he was intelligent and even witty upon occasion. She had learned that when he was truly engaged in a topic that captured his imagination, he could become swept away enough to forget his usual posturing. In that rare instance, the preening young man could actually be quite fascinating. More than his lessons, though, he had been her most consta
nt companion whether she would have wished it or not. If not for his artful skill in manipulating information and his knowledge of the people and traditions swirling around her, Sacha would have foundered long ago.

  When she had questioned Vinnicus about Kesh’s absence some weeks ago, the monster had said only that Kesh was required elsewhere. No doubt the chancellor’s new task served the creature’s nefarious ends somehow, but in what way, she could not fathom.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the jostling of the carriage as they returned to Terrandal. The side courtyard of the living palace contained the retinue of guards that typically awaited her return, but an additional figure had joined their numbers this afternoon. Sacha was surprised to see her cousin, Marcella, leaning on one of the decorative columns, commanding the attention of a young guard. Sacha hadn’t thought her cousin would know of her schedule or where to find her. Perhaps it’s only coincidence, she thought.

  Sacha was not surprised, however, at how thoroughly her cousin had woven herself into the Basinian nobility. Marcella was the eldest and most outgoing of the girls who had made the journey from Pelos. In addition, she was attractive in a wickedly sensual way and in no measure shy about using those charms. She had been notorious back in Pelos. More than that, though, the dark-haired beauty was clever and could hold conversation with just about anyone. Many people who had thought her only a flirt had been left surprised.

  Guilt pricked at Sacha’s breast as the carriage rocked to a halt. Other than fleeting glimpses, Sacha had not seen any of the girls since before she had stepped into playing the role of Sloane. Amazingly, there had been so many things on her mind that she had not even thought to ask about them. It seemed a lifetime since they had been on the road from Pelos, when her entire attention revolved around finding Rylan and establishing a new life far from Hathorn and his edicts.

  Sacha’s cousin had blossomed fully since she had last seen her. Marcella, striking as always, was dressed in close-fitting leather pants and a similar top that was trimmed with strategic panels of red and black silk. The ensemble complemented her voluptuous figure in ways that would have been considered scandalous in the more stolid Pelosian court.

  The effect had not been lost on the young guard. His strong hand scratched constantly at the day-old stubble on his broad chin as he eyed the flirtatious woman with caution. Sweat was actually glistening on his face as he turned away from Marcella’s predatory gaze. He muttered something to Marcella that might have been an apology, then joined the quick-stepping soldiers as they marched down the stairs to line either side of Sacha’s path from the carriage.

  The door was opened, and Sacha was helped to the ground.

  “Why, hello, cousin,” Marcella called. She planted one fist on a leather-clad hip and gestured with the other to the soldier who was continually glancing back at her. “Master Lief there was just telling me that he couldn’t be sure when you might return.” She sighed expansively. “I suppose it must be tremendously tiresome, all of us hangers-on clamoring for your attention at all hours of the day.”

  Sacha grinned. “There’s always time for you, cousin.”

  Marcella scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of you in the past... well, in the past forever.”

  Guilt nipped at Sacha again, but she didn’t let it show. “Cousin, I’m the leader of a nation now, or participating in its leadership at least. Besides”—she gestured at Lief—“it seems you’ve been quite busy without me.”

  Marcella lowered her lashes and glanced at the young man. “Poor Lief has been subjected to my musings for certain, but only because I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Sacha nodded to the coachmen and walked toward her cousin. The guards fell in line behind her as she made her way up the stairs. “I’m certain that you entertained him well enough, Marcella.”

  Her cousin smiled wickedly but said nothing.

  Echoing calls of the Rohdaekhann drifted down to them in the courtyard.

  Sacha scanned the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. Far above, the giant birds circled and dove as they played with one another. The aerial dance was truly breathtaking and hard to turn away from, but Sacha spared a glance at her cousin.

  Marcella’s dark eyes also tracked the Rohdaekhann as they soared through the open air. “Looks to be an amazing thing, cousin.”

  “That it is,” Sacha answered. “That it is.” On an impulse, she asked, “Do you think that Meagan and Bella would like to see the Rohdaekhann? I don’t think they would be permitted to ride, but I’m sure it would be okay for them to tour the aviary and learn about its history.”

  Marcella dropped her gaze from the sky to give Sacha a puzzled look. “What do you mean? They’ve already been to see them. Bella talks of nothing else since you and Alexander arranged the tour just after you first began flying.”

  Sacha’s heart shuddered as she realized what she had just done. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She chastised herself as her mind reeled, trying to think of an excuse that would cover the slip.

  “They’d be more than welcome to come back,” Rouke said smoothly as he walked up beside Sacha. “Bella in particular should make it a point to come as often as she can. She gets along with the great birds, and Scaja could probably use a new groomer in trainin’. There are few enough folks that the Rohdaekhann tolerate. Maybe she could even become a Rhadoken.”

  Sacha nodded along with the armsman in relief. Her surprise and guilt in finding Marcella waiting had driven the man’s presence straight from her mind. She thanked Eos even as she continued to chastise herself. In spite of all she had learned about Sloane’s life here and all the changes she had made, she still ran afoul of things she simply didn’t know. “Yes...Yes, she absolutely should come as often as she can. I would love to see her happy.” I would love to see her at all, Sacha added, realizing a truth beyond the words she spoke. She longed to spend time with all the cousins but both the youngest in particular. “I will speak to Alexander about it, and we will see it done.”

  Marcella’s expression took on a more pleasant cast, but concerns and confusion still touched her eyes and the dimple above her brow. It was probably a good thing it was Marcella standing here rather than Sacha’s second-eldest cousin, the more serious and insightful Leanne.

  “Why are you here, Marcella?” Sacha asked abruptly, remembering one of her father’s rare statements of advice—If on unsure footing, press the attack.

  The question visibly took Marcella by surprise, possibly interrupting the thoughts spurred by Sacha’s slip. “I had come for two reasons, actually,” Marcella said. “Have you found any sign of her?”

  There was no need to ask who Marcella meant. Every flight Sacha had taken since that first time with Rouke had been under the guise of searching for the “missing” Sacha, still presumed to be held somewhere in the staggering reaches of the winewood forests. The Rohdaekhann had proven invaluable to the search, given their ability to cover vast amounts of area in relatively short time. Even so, the great birds and their riders could only effectively search the tops of the canopy and open glades. The fiction of their hunt could persist for years, literally, before even a fraction of the forest floor had been searched.

  Sacha did her best to look mournful and shook her head slowly. She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it. She didn’t think she had what it took to make her cousin believe her words.

  The lack of speech appeared to answer Marcella’s question sufficiently, and she swept in to hug Sacha with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sloane,” she said into Sacha’s shoulder. “Sacha is strong. She’ll be fine. I know it.”

  Sacha clung to Marcella, letting the earnestness of her cousin’s words carry the burden of the lie Vinnicus had forced her to live. For a moment, the desperation she remembered from those days of running through the forest in fear and the loss she still felt for Sloane overwhelmed her. Sacha surrendered to Marcella’s embrace, relishing the touch of a
person who cared, even though the care was misplaced.

  Rouke stepped into Sacha’s field of vision, looking concerned and questioning.

  She gave him the barest shake of her head.

  The apt soldier took her meaning and remained silent. His features and posture smoothed as he looked away, giving the two women their privacy.

  The moment was lost, though, as Marcella pushed away, scrubbing at her eyes with a delicate hand. She searched Sacha’s face for confirmation that her emotions were in check. Whether the unspoken question was answered or not, she seemed to find Sacha’s appearance sufficient and gave a quick nod. “The other reason I came looking for you, cousin, was to let you know that your dereliction of duty stops today.”

  Sacha’s stomach gave a little twist. A statement like that could pertain to too many things. As had been so unpleasantly proven just moments ago, the months of study were insufficient to completely train her on every minute detail of Sloane’s life. She would have to tread lightly and hope for the best.

  “Oh?” Sacha managed, taking an air of casual indifference. “And are you going to enlighten me as to which of the many responsibilities I’ve neglected, or will I have to dangle you from the treetops to get it out of you?” She gestured toward the aviary far above.

  Marcella grinned, the emotional strain from before forgotten. “Those aren’t the games I play, cousin,” she said, letting her voice drop a register. “But even if they were, I believe the answer would be: I’d like to see you try.” The dark-haired beauty lowered her head coyly and looked over one shoulder at Rouke. “At least, I’d like to see someone try.”

  Rouke took a quick step away from the pair as if Marcella were a deadly snake. “Ahh...” he began.

  Sacha sighed and cupped Marcella’s chin to bring her back around. “Give, cousin. What are you on about?”

  Marcella pouted but relented quickly. “The Feast of Corin, of course. These Basinians are simply mad for it, and it appears that you have a large role to play, being the future queen and all.”