Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series (64 page)

Read Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Online

Authors: E.M. Sinclair

Tags: #epic, #fantasy, #adventure, #dragons, #magical

BOOK: Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series
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‘Leave them. Do not
touch any of them and avoid their blood.’

Kazmat straightened and
looked at his sword. It was thick with gore and a few loops of
entrails swung from it. He glanced back at Tika and bent again to
wipe the blade on the back of one of the dead. Tika
nodded.

‘When you clean your
weapons properly, use thick cloths so that no blood might touch
your skin.’

‘What about the
bodies?’ Onion enquired from behind Favrian.

Favrian gestured back
down the corridor. ‘I can bring fire, intense enough to destroy
these completely.’

His gold eyes met
Tika’s and he dipped his head slightly.

‘Your sword indeed
knows its task Lady Tika.’

She glanced down at her
clean and unmarked blade. ‘It drank the blood,’ she realised with
some concern.

Favrian smiled. ‘The
Dark will make it pure.’

Tika slid the sword
into its scabbard. ‘I hope you’re right.’

She stepped carefully
over and round the bodies sprawled, so ungainly in death, and
retreated some way. Favrian raised his left hand, fingers
flickering in a rapid and intricate fashion. Flame streaked from
his fingertips. It was a cold fire, no heat touched those watching,
or distorted the air around the corpses. Instead, it fed ravenously
on the clothes, the flesh, even the metal of their belts and
weapons, until a faint film of greasy ash marked a circle on the
stone floor.

Tika observed both
Favrian’s method of calling power and its result, but only briefly
– shouts of alarm were echoing down the stairs. Favrian leaped up
those stairs while Tika and Sket toiled up more slowly. Tika’s legs
felt heavy and she was all too conscious that her body needed more
time to recover from the damage it had suffered by her descent into
the Dark. Sket was one stair above her when her arms were caught by
Darrick on one side and Kazbeck on the other. At times her feet
left the floor as she was helped more rapidly up the too many
stairs. She murmured her thanks when they deposited her at the
entrance to the lowest hall.

It was all a jumble of
black uniforms: until you saw the changed eyes, you couldn’t tell
friend from foe. Taking the brief moment to look into someone’s
eyes could well be the brief moment it took you to die. Tika tried
to feel the area around the hall, probing for a concentration of
wrongness, but it was difficult. The mental miasma that seemed to
rise from the possessed guards was enough to interfere with her
focusing.

Feet pounded along a
corridor to her right and weapons were drawn again, but it was
Sergeant Essa who rounded the corner with Shivan beside her. She
had perhaps half the number of guards that she’d led earlier at her
back. Essa reached Tika and bent to shout over the noise of
fighting, waving her guards to wait before joining the
fray.

‘Sergeant Peach and
Captain Domin have engaged a large group towards the western side
of the Palace. Their engineers seem to be having the best success.
The guards who’ve been changed can fight like I’ve never
seen.’

A thought occurred to
Tika which made her blood run cold. ‘The people in the town,’ she
said urgently. ‘Can you get some of your guards to try to protect
them?’

Essa nodded, turned to
a woman in the second rank and gave quick precise orders. The woman
raced back the way they’d come while Essa turned back to Tika. The
fight in the centre of the hall was nearly done: more bodies
slumped in unlikely postures within a ring of other black uniformed
guards, and several gold eyed Dark Ones. Tika knew that this time
unchanged guards had died alongside the others, and for no clear
reason, Simert popped into her head. She drew a breath and reached
for Sket’s hand.

‘Simert,’ she called
loudly.

Faces turned towards
her, mostly looking puzzled, but a cone of smoke rose from the
floor between where Tika stood and the pile of corpses.

‘Oh my stars,’ Sket
muttered as the smoke cleared.

A short, plump, elderly
man stood there. He looked weary rather than annoyed but Tika chose
to be very cautious and very polite.

‘Greetings
Simert.’

Simert turned in a slow
circle on the spot, taking in his surroundings. He sighed when he
saw the bodies.

‘These are Ferag’s,
child. Why didn’t you summon her?’

‘Some – most – of these
were used by the Crazed One, or at least by fragments of the
Splintered Kingdom.’

Simert frowned.
‘Really? Well I suppose my lot would have better ideas of dealing
with them than Ferag’s.’ He glanced at Tika and age dropped from
his face as he gave her a mischievous smile. ‘Ferag’s subjects are
all a bit limp and lethargic. The Imperatrix for instance. I had my
doubts you know, about taking her off Ferag’s hands, but she’s been
a tremendous source of entertainment. Oh yes indeed.’

Tika cleared her
throat. She really, really, didn’t want to know what might be
happening to Shea’s mother, deserved though it undoubtedly might
be.

‘I was wondering, sir,
can you actually deal with – active fragments so to
speak?’

Simert pursed his lips
and clasped his hands over his belly. ‘Well, yes. In a
way.’

‘Then why haven’t
you?’

Simert looked
astonished. ‘But I haven’t been asked, my dear. Now if you’ll
excuse me, I’ll be off. Busy, busy, busy these days.’

‘But sir, some of those
belong here or – erm – with Ferag.’

‘Yes, yes.’ Simert
waved an airy dismissal of such mundane matters. ‘I’ll sort ’em
out, never fear.’

Simert, and the heap of
bodies, vanished.

Tika found herself the
target of very curious glances.

‘Who, exactly, was
that?’ Favrian demanded.

‘Simert, the Kelshan
God of Death,’ Tika snapped back.

She was briefly
gratified to see the Sword Master of the Dark Realm momentarily
bereft of the power of speech. Before he could regain it, she
headed for the stairs.

‘Bloody stairs,’ she
muttered, and smiled reluctantly at Sket’s shout of
laughter.

By the time they’d
reached the topmost floor of the Karmazen Palace, Tika was
astonished to realise the sky was beginning to lighten with the
first promise of dawn. Dozens of guards patrolled the floor below,
all the staircases, and the corridors adjacent to the First
Daughter’s rooms. All the groups of guards were accompanied by a
Dark One, both male and female.

Kija reclined in the
great chamber, her prismed eyes whirring in concern when Tika
staggered in. Tika sank onto a couch near the golden Dragon and
closed her eyes for a moment.

‘I’ll get some food
organised,’ Konya said, regarding Tika with some worry.

Tika opened her eyes.
‘I’d love some tea but I’m not hungry.’

Konya’s huff was
matched by a very similar sound from Kija. ‘I don’t much care if
you feel hungry or not. You will eat.’

Kija watched the healer
march from the chamber. ‘She cares for you, that one,’ she murmured
in Tika’s mind.

‘I know, but I don’t
understand why.’ Tika winced as she stretched her aching legs
out.

‘I have been thinking
of that pendant of yours,’ Kija remarked.

Tika sat up straighter,
reaching for the pouch at her belt which held that
pendant.

‘You were not wearing
it today.’

‘No. The burn’s almost
healed but there’s still a scab.’

Tika waited. Kija would
tell her in her own time whatever it was she needed to
impart.

‘There was no attack
aimed specifically at you?’ Kija asked.

‘No.’

‘I wonder if that
pendant attracts this – thing. But for some reason it seems attuned
to you, or protective of you. So while it attracts the creature, it
also tries to repel it as well?’

Tika considered Kija’s
suggestion. ‘And tonight, because it was in the pouch, the creature
couldn’t sense it?’ She shook her head. ‘I usually wear it
underneath my shirt. What’s the difference between under a shirt or
in a thin leather pouch? No, surely it would be able to sense
it.’

‘But in the pouch you
wear it at your belt. When you wear it round your neck, it is near
your heart. And the chain touches your skin. Perhaps the chain too
is special and can pick up your pulse from your neck?’

Before Tika had time to
think this over fully, Farn came pacing in from the terrace, his
eyes flashing with delight. Tika hugged him, her fingers lingering
on that long scar, bare of scales, which twined down his neck. He
smelt of sea spray and of smoke and had clearly enjoyed using
Dragon fire, which was something Kija took great pains in
emphasising should be used sparingly.

‘We can’t feel any of
that black stuff anywhere down on the shore now,’ he told them.
‘Brin took Storm to fly over the town, just to make
sure.’

‘They won’t use fire
near houses or people, will they?’ Tika asked in alarm.

‘Of course they won’t,’
was Farn’s supremely confident reply.

But Tika saw Kija’s
eyes change slightly and knew she was sending firm instructions on
a thread of thought to Brin.

Tika stirred herself,
belatedly realising her Kelshans, engineers and Shivan were
gathered across the room. If they were determined to join their
fates to hers, they could start by understanding they were first
and foremost her friends.

‘Come and sit over
here,’ she called.

Hesitantly, they did
so, hovering awkwardly by the two Dragons.

‘Oh for stars’ sake,
sit down. We are friends, you will not sit apart as though you were
servants.’

As they did so, Konya,
Shea and Sket returned with half a dozen maids led by Jenniah the
Palace-Keeper. Under her instructions, the maids set low stools and
tables close to Tika and her companions, and laid out trays, and
dishes, and bowls, heaped with food. Tika watched in awe, realising
she was in fact ravenously hungry again.

‘It’s still night time
really Jenniah, however do you produce food like this at this
hour?’

Jenniah blushed with
pride. ‘It is our pleasure to serve,’ she replied
simply.

Gathering her maids
about her like a mother hen her chicks, she left them to their
meal.

It was quiet in
Lerran’s great chamber. The regular sound of feet marching patrols
through passageways outside was soothing rather than an irritation,
and most people slept half the morning away. Tika woke first and
moved softly to the terrace arch. She breathed in deeply and smelt
herbs and grasses rather than the sea as she’d become used to. She
looked up at the sky and saw small white clouds hurrying out over
the sea and realised the wind was blowing from the land for the
first time since she’d been here.

Tika saw large boxes
and pots had been placed along the terrace, full of plants, some in
tight buds, others shyly unfolding into bloom. She remembered her
surprise at seeing all the tiny flowers inside the great chamber.
Even though Lerran was unaware, still her wishes were followed and
her rooms filled with the flowers she obviously loved. Tika turned
back to the chamber, seeing Corman waiting in the shadow of the
arch. She stopped beside him.

‘Did you find the
others who plotted with Chindar?’

The Dark Lord nodded.
‘Seven.’

‘Do you think that’s
all?’

Again he nodded. ‘I
believe only Chindar dared contact the Splintered Kingdom and made
no mention of it to his friends. The others have been – questioned.
They are all adamant the only intention was to put Chindar in
Lerran’s place.’

Tika frowned. ‘Surely
he could not become First Daughter?’

‘Lerran could survive a
long time in the state she was in. He could have spoken on her
behalf with complete authority. He was known as her chief advisor.
And friend.’ Corman’s expression was bleak. ‘He was the one to
argue against any intervention in other lands, although we might
have been of some help on occasion. Drogoya, for
example.’

‘Drogoya?’

‘We could have warned
of the creature’s first appearance there in the form of Cho Petak.
And we did not. Lerran was strongly in favour of offering help but
Chindar was very persuasive. These things become devastatingly
clear with hindsight,’ Corman said bitterly.

‘What will you do with
these seven conspirators?’

‘They have received
their punishment,’ was all he would say.

‘And the First
Daughter. Is she truly close to waking do you think?’

Corman finally
brightened. ‘Very close.’

Tika was curious. She
had met no Dark Ones, other than Shivan, who used their minds in a
similar way to herself and to the Dragons.

‘Does her body change,
her breathing or pulse?’

Corman spread his hands
helplessly. ‘Our most experienced healers are much practised in
supervising the descent and rising of a mind into the Dark. Mull
and Cutha both say she is near.’

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