Forging Divinity (29 page)

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Authors: Andrew Rowe

BOOK: Forging Divinity
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“Don’t come any closer,” Lydia instructed Istavan in a growl. “I’m still not sure we’re on the same side.”

Lydia winced as she looked back to Veruden’s charred skin.
Resh it. I’ve never been good at life sorcery.

“Can you heal him?” Lydia asked, not even bothering to turn toward Istavan.

“I’m not sure why you would even contemplate that, given that he just attempted to kill both of us.”

The sorceress glared at Istavan. “You started that, and you’re going to give me some answers about that later.”

“Interesting. I would think you would be the one owing me answers, given that I last saw you helping a prisoner escape the low place,” he said.

He remembers? I’d better play this carefully.
“The others haven’t filled you in yet? Feh, look, tell me directly if you can heal Veruden or not. I promise I’ll fill you in on that prisoner incident after this is dealt with.”

“Very well. I will stabilize him, but nothing further,” Istavan said.

“Try to kill him and I will end you,” Lydia assured him, standing and walking to retrieve her discarded sword.

“I keep my word, Sorceress Scryer. I hope that the same can be said of you.”

Istavan bent over Veruden, pressing a hand against the burn. “Mend.”

A weave of green, vine-like tendrils extended from Istavan’s wrist to Veruden’s chest.

Good enough.
Lydia turned to check on Korin, but he was already back on his feet, helping one of the other guards stand. The sorceress breathed a sigh of relief.
At least his death won’t be on my conscience.

“Thanks for the save back there,” Lydia said, approaching Korin.

“Not a problem. Now, would you mind telling me what the resh is going on here?”

“I’m still sorting that out myself,” Lydia admitted.

“Sorceress,” Istavan intoned. “You’re not going to like this.”

Lydia whirled, expecting to see that Veruden had stopped breathing.

Instead, Veruden was gone.

“Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate the hidden!” she yelled, searching the area, focusing as deeply as she could. Not even a blur of Veruden was visible.

Resh. He’s gone.

 

Lydia walked slowly to match Istavan’s limping pace. It had taken several minutes to get the guards back on their feet, and most of them still looked dazed. One of them had landed at a particularly bad angle and was nursing a broken nose.

Given the unusual circumstances of the encounter, Lydia and Istavan had remained quiet as they helped the guards back to their feet and instructed the wagons to resume their journey. Korin gave a leery glance at Istavan every now and again, but he didn’t remark on anything. Once the wagons had resumed their movement, Lydia and Istavan took to the front, walking ahead of the others to scan the road for any more threats.

Istavan’s breathing was hoarse, but his face was set with grim determination. Lydia was unused to seeing him without his mask, but he was surprisingly handsome. Like many from Terisgard, he had brown skin and short, curly black hair. She had expected the mask was to conceal some kind of scarring, but no such damage was evident. Perhaps he simply wore the mask to look intimidating or inhuman – it certainly achieved those effects. Even without it, Istavan radiated a strong presence, seeming to loom over everything he observed.

“I will inform the queen that you cooperated,” Istavan said, shattering the silence.

She glanced over at him, quirking a brow. “Care to explain that?”

He shivered, showing an uncharacteristic sign of weakness.

He didn’t use that much fire sorcery, and it’s not really all that cold out,
Lydia considered.
Was he already exhausted when he came out here?

“The queen knew that this caravan would not be allowed to leave the city without a fight. She decided to take the opportunity to see where your loyalties would fall, if tested.” He broke into a fit of coughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

Lissari keep you healthy,
Lydia thought to herself. She wouldn’t dare say it aloud.

“So, this was just a test?” The sorceress shook her head. “People nearly died for a test of loyalty?”

Istavan shook his head, still coughing. After a moment, it passed, and he winced and waved a hand at her in a dismissive gesture. “No, the attack was real,” he assured her. “We did not know who it would come from or when, but that was not staged. The ‘test’ portion was simply that I was instructed not to interfere if you chose to handle the attack by yourself.”

Ah, and he would try to eliminate me if I sided with the attackers,
Lydia considered.
That does make some level of sense. For a gambling sort, at least.

“You expected that I would either fight off the attackers or join them. Choosing to investigate the wagons took you off guard,” Lydia surmised.

Istavan nodded, straightening his back, as if to compensate for his earlier show of weakness. “Yes. And Veruden proved more dangerous than I could have anticipated.”

Lydia folded her hands in front of her. “I’d only ever seen him use travel sorcery before, and even then, a single spell seemed to exhaust him. Could he have been misleading us about his capabilities for years?”

“No,” Istavan said simply, pausing to cough again.

That coughing can’t be good. Perhaps he used too much life sorcery?

“At a minimum, he was using travel sorcery, either sight or deception to make illusions, whatever knocked out the guards, and a type of blue fire – radiance, maybe?” Lydia mused aloud.

“The spell that knocked out the guards was some kind of powerful sound sorcery,” Istavan explained after he recovered from his latest coughing. “It kept my ears ringing for minutes. I couldn’t concentrate at all.”

“How’d you remain conscious through it? I had a protection spell active,” Lydia explained, omitting the odd words she had seen when the Comprehensive Barrier attempted to translate the spell.

It was just like when Edon countered the sorcery in the arena. I think some of the words were even the same. What does that mean? When I comprehended Jonan’s spell, it was essentially translating his thoughts to me – could they be thinking in another language? Or a cypher, perhaps?

Istavan chuckled softly, which was slightly jarring. “Before I came out here, I knew there was a possibility I might have to fight you. I asked Morella to cast a spell on me that would force me to remain conscious and aware.”

Lydia grimaced. “To counter the sleep spell I used on you last time. I’m sorry about that.”

“You still owe me an explanation,” he pointed out.

Lydia nodded. “I was pretending to break a prisoner out of the palace to learn who his contacts were. I tried to time it so we wouldn’t have any opposition. You weren’t supposed to be in the palace. You weren’t even supposed to be in the city.”

He nodded, smirking slightly. “A miscalculation. I have been working directly – and covertly – for the queen for several months now. To prepare for this very day, in fact. If I had known about your ‘pretend’ rescue, I would have been glad to help.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Really. You have a funny way of trying to be helpful, given that you have a habit of attacking as soon as the door to your room opens.”

“Initiative is often necessary in this field of work. Hesitation can be deadly. Waiting would not have improved my odds – either against you and your paladin friend, or with Veruden.” He moved wrapped his arms around him, looking as if he was struggling to keep warm.

Paladin? What does he think he knows?
Lydia glanced back toward the wagons, noting that they were still far enough back that it was unlikely any non-sorcerer could be listening in on their conversation. Her sword was still sheathed on her left side, and she trusted that she was in better shape than Istavan was if she needed to act.

“What were you doing in there with the sword?” Lydia asked.

“I was examining it, of course. I had hoped to break it out of the scabbard. A tool like that blade could have been very useful. Of course, after seeing your friend in the arena, I realize that we did not have a fraction of the information necessary to understand what we were really dealing with.” He took a deep breath. “It is difficult to know how to act when faced with only half of what you need to know.”

“I do agree. I take it that’s your way of asking to trade information?” The itch to draw her steel faded somewhat, but she remained wary. His constant referral to Taelien as her ‘friend’ was disconcerting at best.

“You have taken a side now, regardless of what you may have wished. It would be in your best interests to solidify your ties to the queen before things escalate further.” He clasped his hands in front of him, turning his head to glance downward at her. “Especially given the other allies you’ve chosen.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I would be willing to agree to trade some information. I won’t make any promises of taking a ‘side’ until I understand what the ‘sides’ are, however.”

“It should be obvious by now, isn’t it?” Istavan waved back toward the caravan.

“The queen is moving against Edon,” Lydia surmised. “Veruden works for Edon, and you work for the queen.”

He nodded. “Very good. And you work for the Paladins of Tae’os.”

She paused in her step. “Now, why would you make an assumption like that?”

Her right arm was itching again.

He shook his head, raising his hands. “Peace. The queen has known for quite some time. She has no problem allying with a Paladin of Tae’os – in fact, an alliance with your organization in general would be of mutual benefit at this stage. You needn’t make pretenses about the rescue.”

Lydia took a deep breath, considering that.
He could be baiting me to admit something he’s not sure about. But the logic behind the argument itself is sound – if the queen is starting a civil war against Edon, she’s going to need all the allies she can get. Anyone strictly religious is going to side with Edon. If she intends to overthrow him, she needs to demolish the foundation of his power, which is the Edonate religion itself.

“If, hypothetically speaking, I was a paladin, I still wouldn’t be able to pledge any sort of alliance for the organization as a whole,” Lydia pointed out. “It would be well beyond my hypothetical authority.”

“Of course,” Istavan agreed. “But you could carry a message, perhaps. A message that the queen would be more than happy to return Orlyn to being a kingdom under the Tae’os faith, if only the heretic Edon could be removed. If your sword-bearing friend is any indication, it would appear the paladins are already making their own move.”

“Eh – I wouldn’t assume that,” Lydia said hesitantly, resuming walking beside Istavan. “Even I don’t know quite what that man is about, in truth. I’ve been digging at him for days, trying to learn his story, but he’s either not a paladin or a spectacular liar.”

Istavan pursed his lips. “Truly? You’re not lying about that?”

She shook her head. “No reason to at this point. I do know he’s dangerous, though. In case that wasn’t obvious from his performance in the arena.”

“What have you been able to determine about his agenda, in that case?”

Lydia cracked her knuckles. “He seems to be trying to figure out his identity. Claims that he was adopted, and that the sword was left with him. Apparently his adoptive parents told him he could find out something about his heritage in this city.”

“Not much to work with. And now Edon has taken an interest in him. He could be used as a tool against us, if we aren’t careful,” Istavan said, perhaps more to himself than to Lydia.

Interesting usage of the term ‘we’.
“What’s the deal with the caravan? What’s so important in these wagons?”

Istavan turned around, gesturing toward the caravan. “Four of those wagons carry former prisoners. We discovered them recently in a hidden facility and liberated them. We believe Edon was using them as some kind of power source to fuel his sorcery.”

Now that’s interesting. It’d be awfully coincidental timing if they just found out about the Rethri at the same time we did. I’ve never heard of a way to use people as a power source for sorcery, but the way those children were unconscious, with marks around their eyes... maybe. It doesn’t sound impossible.

“So, you think Edon’s ‘divine’ abilities were somehow being drawn from these prisoners?” Lydia asked, only half-rhetorically.

“That would be the theory, yes. He may have more of them, of course – we were only able to liberate the people in one specific facility. It would explain the level of power Edon has been able to demonstrate, as well as his apparent versatility, if he has created a form of sorcery that draws power from other people.” Istavan paused, allowing Lydia a moment to consider that.

Everyone has some level of connection with various dominions – that’s how we function. Since Rethri tend to have a particularly strong bond to a specific dominion, a person who could draw sorcery from others could have a very potent tool at their disposal. I suppose it might be something like how a person utilizes a dominion bonded item, or maybe a mixture between that and how the Vae’kes can absorb dominion energy directly into themselves.

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