Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods) (19 page)

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Authors: Terry C. Simpson,D Kai Wilson-Viola,Gonzalo Ordonez Arias

Tags: #elemental magic, #gods, #Ostania, #Fantastic Fiction, #Fiction, #Assassins, #battle, #Epic, #Magicians, #Fantasy, #Courts and courtiers, #sword, #Fantasy Fiction, #Heroes, #Mercenary troops, #war, #elements, #Denestia, #shadeling, #sorcery, #American, #English, #magic, #Action & Adventure, #Emperors, #Attempted assassination, #Granadia

BOOK: Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods)
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Ancel rode after the others, Charra loping next to him, his gaze focused on the Greenleaf Forest.

CHAPTER 14

Shin Galiana Calestis leaned on her staff after each step up the wide stairs to the Dorn’s townhouse. She used the white balustrade and its pillars to help her climb.

Stefan stood on the landing above her dressed in the crimson uniform of a Dagodin. The five gold knots of his Knight Commander rank stood out on his right breast. Above them shone a pendant depicting a sun with lightning bolts striking in front of it—The Lightstorm insignia. It had been a long time since she last saw the emblem. Stefan’s dark cloak ruffled in the chilly breeze that reached down from the Kelvore Mountains. The sword on his hip fit him like a soft, fox fur glove. Years had passed since she last saw him wearing a weapon. Lines creased his forehead as he gazed toward the Eldan Road and Eldanhill’s southern exit.

She couldn’t help but think how much of a young Stefan lived on in Ancel. If not for the slight difference in height, the white streaks in Stefan’s hair, and his pointed beard, it would be difficult to tell them apart.

“I see you have taken well to wearing your uniform once more,” she said as she gained the landing. She shuffled over to stand next to the older Dorn and took in the great Streamean temple, its clock tower, and the blue lights reflecting from the town’s streets and buildings.

“It suits me as well as yours does you,” Stefan replied with a nod toward her own red dress with its white-striped silver sleeve.

Galiana chuckled. “I have so become used to my role as Teacher, I forgot this is what I once was.”

Stefan gave her a wry look. “No one can forget being an Ashishin, Galiana. The world won’t let you.”

Nodding at his statement, she asked, “How did Ancel handle the news of the trip?”

“He’s happy enough. How could he not be?” Stefan shrugged. The breeze died down. His cloak came to rest above his calf high, brown leather boots. “He’s with his friends. He has his parents’ blessing. And he will be able to skip classes for a few weeks while chasing women.” A hint of bitterness carried in his soft-spoken yet firm voice.

Across from them the same blue lamps of Soltide that lit up the town adorned the few homes on Tezian Lane. A dog barked from one of the gardens.

“You would do well to worry less,” Galiana said.

Stefan turned to regard her. The festive lights at the front of his home and the three pillars lining each side of the stairs enhanced his emerald eyes. His gaze reminded her of the breeze, biting and cold. “How can I? His power manifested yesterday.”

Stomach churning, Galiana kept her face a blank mask. “And what happened?”

“Thania suppressed it. Then I stressed to him to remember his training and to control his emotions.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Stefan’s face darkened with anger. “How so? He needs supervision. You said yourself he’s lost his focus. Yet you asked to allow him to go to Randane. To be away from those who can train him. To be away from those who can show him the path he needs to take. Away from those who can protect him.” The tight lines about Stefan’s jaw eased, and his eyes shone wetly. “I’ll not lose a second family, Galiana.”

“Sometimes, the best course of action is inaction. Sometimes, the best way to guide is not to guide.”

Somewhere in Eldanhill, a smith’s hammer clanged. Someone had stayed up late to finish their work.

“Quotes from the Disciplines?” Stefan snorted. “I’m no longer your student.”

Galiana smiled. Stefan had always been stubborn. “You will always be my student.”

“I doubt you understand.”

“Oh?”

The cold breeze picked up, rattling a wind vane. Galiana pulled her cloak tighter, huddling into its comforting folds.

“I watch my son every day.” Stefan stared off at nothing. “The way he mopes around. His apparent disinterest when I teach him the sword. His mood swings that are sometimes worse than Charra’s. I see it all. He’s not been the same since Irmina left. Or should I say since you and Jerem sent Irmina away. You need to bring her back. She gave my boy a stability he now lacks.”

“Some would say the same about me with this.” Galiana straightened with ease and raised her staff. “He will manage without her. Besides, her current mission is unavoidable and too important.”

Stefan shook his head. “You’ve always been one to deceive with appearances, but I know what I see in him. He needs her.”

“He does, I admit. But not in the way you think. If she fails her task, Ancel’s stability will no longer be in question. His life will be forfeit.”

“And if she succeeds?”

“Then he stands a chance when the time comes.”

“And if harm should befall him on this trip, none of these plans will be of consequence.” Stefan paced to the other side of the landing, his broad back to her. “You should’ve let me accompany him.”

“No,” Galiana said firmly, “Another has been tasked to protect him. Besides, do you really want Valdeen to be the one the Dosteri meet?”

“You don’t trust him with the meeting, but you trust him with my son?” Jaw clenching, Stefan graced her with an incredulous stare.

“The negotiations with the Dosteri are a delicate matter.”

“And my son isn’t?” Stefan’s voice had become soft, almost inaudible, a dangerous undertone lurking beneath his words.

Galiana bit back the scathing words on her tongue. “You know better. The meeting is not suited for the Headspeaker.” After a moment’s contemplation, she added, “Unless you are willing to risk his recent attitude and his lack of foresight during the proceedings. Not to mention the risk that the High Ashishin the Tribunal dispatches may sense Ancel’s growing power. Would you rather he was here if they decided to send a Pathfinder?”

Stefan hesitated. “No, but still—”

“He may have acted irresponsibly the last few months, but give your son some credit,” Galiana said. “He can take care of himself. Not that we would leave his safety only to himself or Valdeen, mind you. We have commissioned someone who is more than capable.”

Stefan’s sudden whirl to face her almost forced Galiana back a step. Hand clenching on her cane, she held herself steady. He took two purposeful strides toward her until he stood so close she could smell the soap he bathed with and see the mist rising from his mouth and nose. His towering frame blotted out the sight of Eldanhill.

“Who?” The corner of Stefan’s mouth edged up as he spoke softly, a little louder than a whisper, but with a blade sharp edge. “Who did you entrust with my son’s life?”

She raised an eyebrow. Stefan’s shoulders slumped as he turned away and let out a deep breath.

“I can assure you between his guard and Charra, Ancel will be fine,” Galiana said. “You have been particularly testy since he and Mirza returned from the Greenleaf. What did you find?”

“Nothing.”

Galiana frowned.

“There were plenty signs kinai once grew in their glen, but there were no trees covered in rot as they claimed.” Stefan paced across the landing. “The crop appeared to have been thoroughly cultivated. The trees stood bare as if it were the dead of winter. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The tracks and the droppings, were they—”

“They were the same as made by wild mountain wolves or daggerpaws, nothing more. The other tracks were human. Markings on the trees identified them as the Seifer clan.”

“And the shade within the area?”

Stefan stopped pacing. He looked out toward the Greenleaf Forest. “No more than usual.” His brows drew together. “In some ways, the essences seemed too perfect.”

“Do you think the boys could have imagined what they saw?” Galiana asked.

Stefan stroked his beard. “Stranger things have happened, but no. Not both of them. When they came home that night, Charra’s paws and their boots left enough stains to support their claim. Not to mention the stench they brought with them.”

“Wraithwolf?”

“Similar in many ways, but as I said, the tracks sang a different song.”

Galiana nodded. The thought Stefan couldn’t tell what type of creatures followed the boys chilled her. Sending Ancel away became a better idea by the moment. “Well, we must be careful, nonetheless. Post extra guards. I will instruct a few Dagodin to keep an eye on the Greenleaf.”

“Risky if you don’t wish for the Tribunal to begin an inquiry,” Stefan said.

“I have not lost my wisdom with my youth, Stefan. These men will all be loyal to our cause. And even if they should send a Pathfinder, Ancel will be safe in Randane.”

Stefan grunted, and he gave a quick nod. “What of your wards?”

Galiana couldn’t help pursing her lips. “None have been disturbed.” That fact had been her only reassurance Ancel hadn’t encountered wraithwolves since she received Stefan’s report about the glen.

Stefan stroked his beard once more. “What do you suggest we tell the Clan Council?”

She gazed out to the Kelvore Mountains and the twin moons shining high above. “We tell them nothing for now. At least not until we can be certain of what the boys saw. If Amuni’s Children have somehow crossed the Vallum of Light, there must be no doubt.”

“Not that I would doubt you, but—” Stefan began.

“No you would not, would you?” This time Galiana didn’t hide her smile.

Stefan looked at her from the corner of his eyes. “Not even the Shadowbearer could cross the Vallum. Why do you believe that which hasn’t been breached in a thousand years could be breached now?”

“The Chronicles have never been wrong, Stefan,” she said simply.

Stefan smirked. “The same Chronicles you followed back then? That cost so many lives? Lest you forget, Galiana, the last hundred years have not been kind to our clan. And—”

“Yes, I know,” Galiana huffed, not attempting to hide her annoyance, “You lay the blame for their misfortune at my feet.”

“Am I wrong in doing so?”

Galiana took in Eldanhill’s blue-lit streets once more.
So tranquil. There’s a peace here I refuse to lose.
“No. You are not wrong. It was my fault for trusting Nerian, yes.” She let out a deep breath, her back bowed, and she leaned on her staff once more. “But our people live.”

“If languishing at the Tribunal’s hands can be said to be living. If spread across the corners of Denestia, families shattered, can be said to be living. If suffering without knowing their homes or the truth of their heritage can be said to be living, then yes you’re right.” Stefan’s words cut deep.

Galiana fought against the hollow that grew in her chest with each sentence. “We live and breathe. As long as we have that, we shall prevail.” Her sigh matched the cold breeze. “After all these years, you still dredge this up.”

“How can I not?” Stefan said, the bitterness in his tone unmistakable. “We’re not only the last of our clan, but maybe the last of the Setian.”

“And I have apologized and repented time and again.” Galiana fought not to raise her voice. “No, it will not bring back the dead, but it is a burden I bear. Believe me, it weighs on my shoulder more than you can imagine.” Her head throbbed, and her back ached. “If time were mine to command I would change what happened.”

“But it isn’t, and you cannot,” Stefan whispered, that lost expression in his eyes again.

“We can do this for the hundredth time. Or you can trust me as you once have. The time draws near. Ancel must complete his training.”

“And yet you send him away.”

“Your stubbornness borders on being idiotic,” she snapped, her temper past boiling. “Your lapse in respect has become more than bothersome. Demand respect, but first show respect. Demand discipline by showing mastery of self. The first and the last Disciplines that you seem to have forgotten. I am beginning to wonder if I should not have Valdeen represent us instead of you after all.”

Either her tone or her words struck a chord. The lines creasing Stefan’s forehead grew until his eyebrows almost touched. He bowed to her. “I, I’m sorry, Shin Galiana. I forgot myself. You’re right. I should carry myself better. Lead by example as the Disciplines say. I’m glad you quoted them. I’ve been so worried by the boy’s erratic behavior. Then with everything else happening, I’ve been of two minds where my duty lies. I know it’s here. Ancel is well past the age where he should need to rely on my guidance.”

Galiana smiled and stared out to the south. Stefan would never admit it, but he was forever her student, and she knew how to manipulate him when he needed it most.

Chilly gusts buffeted them, flinging strands of Galiana’s silver hair about her face. She drew her cloak tighter. “The Dosteri are moving. Ostania stirs. There have been reports the Svenzar have appeared in the Red Ridge Mountains. Old feuds rise anew. Threats of war sweep the land. The elements have become unstable. It is as the Chronicles say. The shade is rising.”

CHAPTER 15

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