Shadow & Flame

by Mindee Arnett

  “I will be back shortly to help you eat,” Nadira announced. Then she turned and strode from the room, leaving him alone with Kate. Silence hung thick between them as the memories of their last encounter played in Corwin’s head. The things she’d seen. The things she’d learned. The horrible violation of it, and the burning shame he couldn’t escape.

  Finally Kate drew a breath and, again in that emotionless voice, said, “Harue believes she might have found a way to ease your suffering. It won’t undo Gavril’s magic, but it will . . . might . . . block it.” She raised her hand toward him, turning her palm upward to reveal the object she’d been holding, a crystal vial filled with blood.

  Corwin recognized it. “Is that your father’s? The one you took from Vikas?”

  Kate shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “No, the blood is mine.” Corwin inhaled sharply at the knowledge. Ignoring his reaction, she added, “At the very least it will prevent anyone with sway—including me—from entering your mind.”

  He looked away from her then, feeling as if his insides had become his outsides, raw nerves exposed. “You never should’ve done it,” he said, managing to speak at last. “You should’ve stayed out.” He couldn’t bear this thing inside her that was so much like Gavril. Not yet, not with the pain still so close.

  Kate’s face was stony. “I know. I never will again.”

  He’d heard her make such claims before, but they always came with exceptions—unless I have to, unless you want me to. Not this time, though. And he knew why: she feared what she might see. He wanted to tell her the truth—that he still loved her more than anything, anyone—but the words didn’t come.

  Kate held out her hand holding the vial once more. “I will give this to you now, but I can’t release you from these bonds. Not until you’re able to convince me that you won’t try to run. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, unable to speak for the Tenets raging inside him. No, no, no. You mustn’t. You must return to Gavril. Obey, obey, obey.

  Kate approached him slowly, being careful not to touch him as she leaned forward and dropped the cord around his neck. Then she stepped back.

  The vial settled next to Corwin’s chest, and he felt the heat of it at once, warming him from the inside. It spread over him like a vapor, enveloping him. As it settled into his mind, he felt it slowly quieting the Tenets that had twisted his will, subverting it. His racing heart at last began to settle. The knotted threads of Gavril’s control didn’t undo themselves; they merely loosened enough to allow him to move, to think and act on his own. It took effort, but it was a manageable effort, no longer like trying to swim in quicksand. Tears stung his eyes at the sweet release of it. For the first time in weeks, in months, he was himself. Or as close to it as it was possible to be with Gavril still in his head, lingering in the shadows. And with the need for nenath still burning inside him.

  Blinking the moisture from his eyes, Corwin let his gaze fall on Kate once more. “Thank you,” he said, stammering. He drew a shaky breath. “Thank you. I am myself.” He started to smile, only to falter at the look on Kate’s face.

  She regarded him darkly, her spine still stiff and expression guarded. They’d never been further apart than they were now. Not even after he’d condemned her father to death. It was the closeness they’d shared before that made it that way. The gap greater because of the sum of its parts.

  “How can I be sure?” she said at last.

  “You can’t, not without coming in here again.” Corwin inclined his head, unable to indicate it in any other way. Only she couldn’t come in anymore, so long as he wore the vial.

  “You sound more like you.” Kate bit her lip.

  “It’s me, I swear it. There’s so much I need to tell you, to explain.” He hesitated, grasping for words that didn’t exist. “I’m sorry, Kate. What you saw wasn’t what—”

  “It’s all right,” she said, cutting him off. “I will untie you, but if you try to run, know that I will stop you.”

  Eyeing the sword strapped across her back, he didn’t doubt her words. He was a threat to every remaining wilder if he were to run back to Gavril. For a second he felt an urge to do just that, but this time he was able to squash it before it could take control. “I won’t run. Besides, Nadira isn’t far. She can still reach me with her magic if necessary.”

  Kate frowned. “Might it be necessary?”

  Corwin debated his answer, drawing a small sense of comfort in knowing that he could lie to her, if he wanted to. He didn’t. “I still feel Gavril’s will inside me. It’s easier to ignore it now, to subvert it, but I can’t be certain it won’t take hold if I let my guard down.”

  “Fair enough,” Kate said. “We will make sure someone is watching you at all times.”

  Someone. Not her. Corwin sighed, his heart heavy in his chest.

  Kate approached him again, drawing the dagger sheathed at her waist. Once more, she was careful not to touch him as she cut through his bonds. The moment he was free, she stepped back again, quickly.

  Corwin stretched his arms over his head, savoring the tingly pain of moving limbs too long kept in the same position. For a moment, he felt lighter than air. But all too quickly the euphoria left him, as he looked at Kate again. She hadn’t moved, her muscles tensed as if she expected him to bolt at any moment. When he didn’t, she slowly relaxed, not at her ease but no longer ready to fight.

  “What now?” he said, not knowing what else to say.

  “First you must eat and drink. Regain your strength. Then you must decide if you wish to go or to fight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kate gestured to the door behind her. “There’s been an ongoing debate among what is left of the Rising about what we do next. Many think it best to leave Rime, forever.”

  Corwin wasn’t surprised; he’d seen what the Sevan forces could do. Yet the idea of fleeing, of letting go of his homeland, repelled him. “What have you decided?”

  “I’m going to fight. Our first step is to get to the Hellgate. That’s where Signe was taken last we saw her. Her mother is one of the Furen Mag. They were helping Edwin mine for something called Hellsteel. Far as we can tell, they’re still there.”

  Daleth, Hellsteel, Corwin remembered, and this time he could think about it without restriction. He could even talk about it, although the Tenets shuddered in the back of his mind, fearing this weapon that was strong enough to destroy them.

  “Rendborne is mining it now,” Corwin said. “He was probably behind it from the beginning.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right. He’s been behind everything from the start.” Kate paused, pursing her lips hard enough a muscle ticked in her jaw. Then she explained what had happened at Farhold, how she had been lured away and how the Rimish forces had managed to take down the city. He’d heard some of the story already, but not about Rendborne disguising himself as Master Janus.

  Disgust rose up in him. There seemed no limit to the man’s evil or cleverness, a deadly combination. Rendborne had known the Rising might be the only true threat against the Godking’s army, and he’d gone to great lengths to take them down before the invasion. Only . . . “Why is Rendborne doing this? What does he hope to gain?” Corwin had never understood it. He’d witnessed Rendborne’s true desires—all he wanted was to destroy Rime, not to rule it himself and certainly not to hand it over to someone else to rule.

  Kate raised one shoulder and let it fall. “Who can say? And it doesn’t matter. All that does is that we stop him.”

  Corwin couldn’t argue with that logic, and yet his unease remained. There had to be something more behind Rendborne’s actions, and there weren’t any answers to be found here.

  But there might be solutions. Corwin took a step nearer to Kate, who held her ground, although he sensed the effort it took her not to retreat. “I need to speak with the others, anyone with any influence over the people. I may have a way to convince everyone to stay and fight with us.”

  Kate�
��s mouth turned up at the side. “How?”

  Corwin allowed himself a small smile, the defeat he’d felt retreating and making Gavril’s magic shrink even further away. “I know how to defeat Rendborne. I know how we can defeat them all.”

  They met in Corwin’s room. The moment Nadira returned, she insisted that he eat and rest—no walking about and tiring himself out. He’d gone too long without proper nourishment. Corwin submitted to her care, but only because Kate promised to bring the others to him. She was eager to finalize plans to infiltrate the Hellgate and rescue Signe.

  Jiro arrived first, followed by Bonner, Nadira, Tira, and Dal. Next came Harue, with Wen trailing behind her as her ever-present shadow. After them was a magist called Yaron, who was elected to speak for the Norgard magists. Lastly, to Corwin’s surprise, came the high priestess, the one that Magnar had replaced and the same woman who had once burned the uror brand onto his palm. She gave her name as Valora and addressed him with a meekness so unlike the woman he’d known, a pale reflection of her former self.

  “I asked her to come,” Bonner said quietly, pulling Corwin aside for a moment. “She is a holy woman still, no matter what Magnar says. She might be helpful in unifying this group to fight.”

  Corwin glanced at the priestess then, doubting she could convince so much as a flea to bite a dog’s back. She was barefoot and dressed in a too-large, shabby dress, looking more like a beggar on the streets than a holy woman. And despite Bonner’s claim of her usefulness, there was no denying that she’d played a part in deceiving the people of Rime into believing that Corwin was dead and his brother the chosen king. Then again, he could see Bonner’s point about belief in the gods and goddesses of Rime being a common thread between these disparate people. He just didn’t know if it would be strong enough.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Corwin said as they settled in, each taking one of the chairs Bonner had hastily forged with his magic. They were crudely made of stone, but they would do for this. Corwin’s father always told him that people were more apt to be reasonable when they were comfortable.

  “Kate says you have a plan to defeat the Sevan force,” Jiro said at once, circumventing any preparatory speeches Corwin might’ve made.

  Corwin stared at the man, trying to get the measure of him. He didn’t know him well, having met Jiro only briefly in the time before he’d left for the Mistfold with Kate and the others, more than a year ago now. He couldn’t believe it had been that long.

  He addressed the rest of the group, refusing to let Jiro rile him. “Yes, it’s true. The key lies in killing Lord Gavril.”

  Several of the others murmured at this, and Corwin wondered if they all knew what he’d been through. He supposed they must. Heat rose up his neck, and he drew a breath, willing it not to rise any further.

  “As Bonner can attest, all of the wilders in the Godking’s army are acting against their will. Gavril is controlling them through his wilder magic and with the help of a drug called nenath, which increases the effects of his sway tenfold. It’s made from nenir—or as we called it in the Sevan mines, godtears.”

  Valora drew a sharp breath. “That’s impossible. Godtears don’t exist. Not anymore.”

  Corwin frowned at her, surprised by her reaction. “Yes, they do. I’ve seen them. I’ve mined them.” I even drank them. The very thought of the nenath made his stomach cramp with need, strengthening Gavril’s Tenets until he had to grip his hands around his chair to fight off the urge to flee. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck at the effort.

  “What Corwin says is true,” Bonner said. “All the wilders in Seva were given this nenath, always before Lord Gavril used his sway on us. It also enhanced our powers, same as it did his. Gavril drank it, too.”

  Valora’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I meant no disrespect. But godtears are one of the divine elements, once gifted to the lands of Seva by the gods themselves, the source of all the magic in Seva.”

  “A divine element?” Harue asked, her expression perked with curiosity. “But they sound no different from our everweeps. They’re the source of all magic in Rime.”

  Valora eyed Harue askance. “Well, yes . . . ,” she said, hesitant. “You’re right. Everweeps are another of the divine elements, the only one still in existence.”

  Harue’s gaze widened. “You mean to say that the priesthood knew the function of everweeps all this time, and you never told the magists?”

  “This is secret knowledge,” Valora said, a flush rising up her neck. “And we were charged with protecting it. But how did you know?”

  With giddy excitement, Harue explained how she’d come to the knowledge after learning about the everweeps in the Mistfold, the way they made the wilders’ magic accessible once more. Hearing it, Corwin felt no true surprise at all, only a sense of awe at the truth—the realization that the gods themselves had bound magic into specific elements for humankind’s use.

  Valora gave a solemn nod as Harue finished. “Rime alone remains favored by the gods with our magic. The other divine elements—starfall in the lands of Ruzgar and ashcrystal in the Eshian islands—disappeared from the world generations ago, not long after the loss of godtears.”

  “But why are they gone?” Harue asked, sounding offended by the notion.

  “Punishment. The gods purged all magic from the world, save Rime’s, after the death of the god Sevan at a human’s hand.” Valora turned to Corwin. “The priesthood has ancient manuscripts that document these events. They are secret and holy. I’ve never spoken of them before.”

  “Manuscripts?” Harue said.

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Not now, Harue.”

  Corwin nodded. “Then why have the godtears returned now?”

  Valora shrugged. “The gods’ will. The gods’ way.”

  It was an easy answer, a phrase that these days was hardly more than a quip. If Corwin had to guess, he suspected it had something to do with Rendborne. Perhaps the presence of everweeps in the Mistfold had done it. He couldn’t be sure. But it did seem to him that the mining for godtears’ in Seva now was relatively new. That explained the conditions of the mines, how all the structures were in such a good working state, as if recently built.

  “Either way, though,” Valora continued, “if this Gavril has been consuming a divine element to enhance his magic, that makes him a powerful threat indeed.”

  “All the more reason to kill him quickly,” Corwin said, glad to bring the conversation back to the main point. “If Gavril dies, the magic releases, and the wilders under his control will be free—and surely will turn to fight with us.”

  “How can you be certain they will fight, and not instead flee?” Yaron asked, head cocked to the side. He was a slight man, unassuming with his black hair tinged with gray and age-lined face, but there was a quiet strength about him when he spoke.

  “Any wilder harmed by Gavril’s sway will want justice,” Bonner said, his tone absolute. He pinned Yaron with his gaze. “We remember everything he did to us, ever made us do. Vile, disgusting things you can’t even imagine. They will fight, no question.” Bonner craned his head toward Corwin. “But as I told you before, Gavril is nearly impossible to kill. He’s as untouchable as Rendborne. Both are protected by a magic more powerful than any of us possess.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Corwin said, “which is why we need to get our hands on a substance known as Hellsteel.”

  Dal sat up. “That’s what they’re looking for in the Hellgate. But what is it?”

  Before Corwin could respond Valora said, “It’s the weapon that Fanen used to kill the god Sevan—the only thing that can kill a god.”

  Corwin regarded her more carefully, wondering what other secrets she possessed. Although she spoke the truth as he knew it, there was something in her voice he didn’t trust. But he nodded at her, appreciating the help just the same. “That’s right. And if this Hellsteel can do that, then neither Gavril nor Rendborne can stand against it.”

  Jiro scoffed. �
��You’re talking about ancient myths. How can we be certain any of it is real and not just a story?”

  “We would have thought the same about the godtears,” Bonner said. He gestured to Valora, who confirmed the statement with a bow of her head.

  Corwin swept his gaze over the room. “Rendborne is looking for the Hellsteel as we speak. He intends to use it to kill my brother.” Corwin relayed the story of what happened in the Vault of Souls for those who hadn’t yet heard it.

  Silence greeted him when he finished, and he let it stretch on for nearly a minute. “I know the odds are against us, but I will not leave Rime to Sevan hands, and I will not leave my brother to be killed by a foreign invader, no matter his crimes. I will fight.”

  A moment passed, and then Valora stood from her chair. She turned to Corwin and bowed. “I must beg your forgiveness, my prince, for the part I played in deceiving the people of Rime about the truth of the uror. I know nothing I say can excuse or undo those actions. But we were at war, wilder against magist, the entire kingdom threatened. With you gone, I believed that any king was better than none at all. I know now I was wrong.”

  Corwin returned her bow. “I understand. The history of Norgard, of Rime, has made one thing clear. We are always better united than we are apart.”

  “You will make a wise king, Prince Corwin.” Valora laid her palm against her heart. “I will stand and fight with you. For Rime.”

  Dal, Tira, Nadira, Harue, Wen, and Kate echoed the sentiment. Then they waited for Jiro and Yaron to cast their lots. Corwin held his breath, knowing in his gut that he would need them both. Even with the Hellsteel, the odds remained against them.

  Yaron drummed his fingers on the side of his chair, gaze fixed on Corwin. “What happens afterward, your highness, if Rime is indeed ours again? You are married to the Godking’s daughter, after all.”