Stealing Sorcery (18 page)

Spark of Life was one of the most powerful known spells in all of dominion sorcery. It was a way of forcing a mortally injured body to restart its essential functions. Laymen often confused it for being a resurrection spell, but Jonan knew it was merely a potent measure for treating life-threatening injuries.

If administered quickly enough, it could reportedly even restart the beating of a failed heart, but Jonan had never personally confirmed that. He had never met a life sorcerer even remotely close to powerful enough to cast it, let alone more than once.

“Did your partner survive the attempt?” He asked without thinking, contemplating the costs on the body of such an effort.

Lydia nodded. “Yes, but he’s still recovering. I arrived to find him still trying, but the victim was clearly beyond saving. To save you a longer story, I investigated the scene and discovered a trail of dominion essence of poison.”

“Ah, yes. Life sorcery wouldn’t do much for poison. Water would be better for that.” He realized after speaking that his commentary might have come across as rude or dismissive of the efforts of Lydia’s partner, but she simply nodded to acknowledge the point.

“I followed the trail and found a ritually-marked area. It was designed as a two-way portal, marked with the largest piece of dominion essence of poison I’ve ever seen. I say ‘piece’ in the literal sense – it was solid, like a stone.”

Jonan quirked a brow at that. Dominion essence usually was conjured in the natural state of the plane it originated from – for example, dominion essence of stone was solid, and dominion essence of water was liquid. The Dominion of Poison had both liquid and gaseous locations that sorcerers could draw from, but no locations that were solid. That meant that someone had to convert gaseous or liquid essence into a solid, which was tricky business.

Converting dominion essence from one state to another was something of a hobby of his – which helped explain at least part of why Lydia had called on him. She probably didn’t think he was a suspect – she hadn’t known he was already in the city.

Or had she? Could she have discovered me somehow? Perhaps she made a spell to measure the current distance between our mirrors – it wouldn’t be impossible...

Gods, I’m getting paranoid in my old age.

In Jonan’s case, “old age” meant almost twenty-two.

“So, you want me to take a look at the stone for you?”

She shook her head. “No, that wasn’t the idea, although if you could glean something from it we can look into that. I’m going to be very busy between trying to investigate this murder and protecting the remaining members of the family.”

“You think the killer might strike again?”

Lydia shrugged. “We don’t know anything about the killer’s motives – except the identity of the victim. Kalsiris Theas.”

“Theas? Like, as in, related to Edrick Theas?”

“His son.”

Jonan let out a string of curses. Lydia blinked rapidly, appearing confused by the display.

“You’re sure you want to get involved in this, Lydia? Edrick Theas – he’s a powerful man. He probably has the resources to handle this himself.”

And, more importantly, anyone willing to pick a fight with Edrick Theas is either colossally stupid or extraordinarily powerful. Given Jonan’s luck, it was more likely to be the latter.

“That’s precisely the problem. Edrick isn’t in the city right now. And Nakane – that’s his daughter – is fairly certain that this will end badly if he returns before we find the culprit.”

Jonan tightened his jaw. “Well, that’s just lovely.”

“Will you help me?”

An assassin killing high profile targets? That could be the same man that Rialla wants me to look for. Or we could just have two extremely dangerous assassins loose in Velthryn – that’d be even better.

The scribe pressed two fingers of his left hand against his forehead, anticipating the beginnings of a murderous headache. “Of course. Where do we start?”

On the morning after Velas completed her first test, she found a note in her bed. This was more than slightly disconcerting, given that whoever had placed it had been subtle enough to avoid waking her.

The contents of the note were more worrisome.

Fellow soldier,

I saw your signal. Your presence here was not anticipated. Cannot make open contact; on discrete assignment. Expect significant collateral damage. Advise you to withdraw from paladin trials; potentially lethal danger if you remain active.

Apologies; will not contact again.

-S

Velas carefully destroyed the note, keeping a single shred of it - a section marked with a few letters – for the possibility of using it with tracking spells or attempting to match the writing. Landen had the easiest access to drop something in her bed, since he shared her bunk, but she doubted he had written the note. Neither the shape of the letters nor the terse style matched his writing.

The obvious answer was Sterling, since she had sent him a signal before – but that didn’t mean he had been the one that had actually seen it. Given that the writer was insistent on not making open contact, she would have to investigate discretely or risk angering her new contact.

The letter referred to her simply as a “soldier”, which implied the writer didn’t know who she was. That was potentially a positive sign. Unfortunately, the signature itself was too vague to give her any additional hints toward the identity of the writer.

The overt warning within the letter was a dangerous sign. Whoever had recognized her sign was most likely affiliated with either the Thieves Guild of Velrya or the Thornguard. Both organizations had a history of small conflicts with the Paladins of Tae’os, but she was not aware of any recent changes that would trigger “lethal danger” to paladin candidates.

Can I warn an officer somehow without making myself a suspect?

Probably not. And I won’t be in any position to help my friends if I’m arrested – or if I leave.

Velas bit her lower lip, frustrated.
I need to figure out who sent this and pry for more information. I can’t protect anyone with so little knowledge of whatever this impending doom might be.

She didn’t even consider dropping out of the exams – it wasn’t an option. She did, however, spend some time during the following week making preparations for several potential scenarios.

If I see any hints of danger, I’ll tell Lan and Sal immediately. One of them can convey the message to an officer if necessary without referencing me as a source. Lan knows how to keep his mouth shut, at least. Sal …maybe less so. Shame, since putting Lydia on this might actually be a good idea, if it wasn’t so likely to get me into trouble.

For the next week, each of other the cadets underwent their first test, sworn to secrecy until the final applicant had completed it. They quickly fell into a routine of physical training in the mornings, classes in the afternoons, and combat exercises in the early evenings. It was relatively light training by Velas’ standards, containing little of the psychological conditioning that most traditional military training entailed.

The former Queensguard guessed that this was most likely because, like her, most of the other candidates already had some degree of existing military training. The conditioning exercises seemed to be more about gauging the current condition of the candidates than molding them into shape, and the combat exercises were more about team building than general discipline. The most important step of the process was clearly the testing, which was geared toward disqualifying anyone who didn’t fit with the organization.

And thus, by the end of the first week, the twelve original platoon members in Platoon 2 had dwindled to nine. Unsurprisingly, Taelien and Landen had made the cut, as had the strange Delaren girl. In spite of the restrictions on discussing test results, rumors were already rapidly spreading that Taelien had come a hand’s breadth away from failure.

With the first week completed and the tests finally done, the applicants had finally been given permission to discuss the details of their own tests. A score sheet had been posted on the wall of each of the Platoon Barracks, and Velas had been amused by the results. She mentally noted the rankings of the people who interested her.

The public rankings used a letter code, although she suspected that the paladin candidates were actually being given a numeric ranking that was being kept hidden to help foster more speculation and competition. The key indicated that the passing rankings normally went from “A” to “C”, with “S” being a rarer notation for exceptional performance. Rank “D” represented a failing grade for a particular test. There were no listings of “D” at this state – anyone who scored that low early on was simply disqualified outright. She suspected that “D” ranks might be allowed to progress in later exams if their aggregate score was sufficiently high, but she wasn’t certain.

Keldyn Andys – Rank A. Unsurprising, given his reputation.

Susan Crimson – Rank C. Apparently military strategy isn’t her strength.

Asphodel – Rank A. Apparently she’s got a good head on her shoulders.

The Wandering War – Rank A. Apparently his name is applicable to wartime strategy.

Jonathan Sterling – Rank B. Interesting. I expected him to perform better.

Velas Jaldin – Rank A. That’s a relief. Looks like I evaluated the situation correctly.

Salaris – Rank C. Ouch. Sal is going to need to pick up the pace.

Terras – Rank B. Not bad. B is probably a pretty typical passing score.

Lysen – Rank B. Same as the twin. Guess they think alike, too.

Kolash – Rank B. I would have expected the warriors to be better at tactics than their “oracle”. Hrm.

Landen – Rank S. Now that’s very interesting. Going to have to ask Lan how he managed that. I don’t see any other “S” ranks on here at all.

Teshvol – Rank C. Barely passed. I’ll need to look into that as well.

After gathering a bit of information from other cadets, Velas headed to the mess hall to discuss what she had heard.

Velas took a seat next to Landen, putting her tray down and leaning across it toward Taelien.

“Heard you got your ass kicked by an illusion.” She grinned brightly. “That takes talent.” Taelien rolled his eyes.

“The ‘illusion’ was covering something that was solid. I’m still not sure how they managed it – whatever that thing was, it was heavy, strong, and capable of teleportation.”

“Something made from construction sorcery, maybe?” Landen took a bite out of a chicken leg, shaking his head and setting it back down on his plate. “They wouldn’t have to actually teleport it, the sorcerer could just dematerialize and move the construct.”

“Possible, given that I didn’t actually have any way of telling what was real.” Taelien cracked his knuckles. “Anyway, I won that fight. Construct or not, it ran away.”

“Oh, so you scared off the illusionary monster?” Velas gave a mock clap, smirking. “As always, your heroism is without equal.”

“Hey, at least I actually went for the objective. I hear you didn’t even attack the city.” Taelien pointed a finger at her accusingly, while simultaneously lifting a cup with his other hand and taking a drink.

Velas shook her head.
Of course I didn’t attack the city. I lived there for years – I knew all about how the Battle of the Three Fords went. There was no chance of success in a direct conflict – the Esharen had the human army outnumbered, had better training, and had defensive walls.

“Yeah. Instead of beating my head against a wall, I looked at the broader picture. I think that’s what they were looking for – the ability to identify when the odds are against you and how best to deal with that situation.” She shifted her weight, leaning against her left hand. “I took Fort Lysen to the north of Orlyn, had my army wall up there and took prisoners. We offered a prisoner exchange for the prince. They turned it down, but our close proximity forced their army to take the field to try to recapture the fortress. That gave us the defensive advantage, making the battle vastly more plausible. I think we might have won, given enough time.”

“You might have won by attrition; I might have actually saved the prince.” Taelien sat up straighter in his chair. “I think you’re right about what the instructors wanted, but that doesn’t mean the instructors have the right answer to the scenario.”

Velas chuckled at that. “It’s a test, Taelien. Part of the test is figuring out what the instructors want you to do. Fail at that and it doesn’t matter how creative your ideas is.”

The swordsman lowered his head, frowning. “Maybe.”

Velas felt an unexpected – and uncharacteristic - pang of guilt at seeing his expression. “Hey, now. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you’re right. You just gave me something to think about.”

Velas turned toward Landen, who was still eating with a mildly amused expression. “You’re looking smug.”

He raised another chicken leg, making a circular gesture with it. “Well, I just find your lecturing a little silly, given that I out-scored both of you.”

Velas shrugged. “I figured you probably did the same thing I did, but with a little better micromanagement, or with judges who liked you better.”

Landen made a scoffing noise. “Not even close, Vel. I won the scenario.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Won? I talked to half a dozen other people before I came here, including some full paladins. That scenario doesn’t have a win condition.”

“It didn’t until I made one.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Lan, I can tell you want to regale us with your epic story of struggle and triumph.”

“Actually,” he pointed downward at his tray, “It was remarkably simple. What am I pointing at?”

“A tray with food, dinnerware, and a drink,” she replied, trying to sort through his logic. “What, you sieged them until they starved?”

He shook his head. “I considered that, but it’s even simpler.”

Taelien seemed to have cheered up, his expression having shifted from sad contemplation to a look of intent focus. “You could be pointing at any of the component parts that Velas mentioned. The food on the plate might represent destroying supplies. The knife could represent assassinating key targets. The drink…gods, did you poison their water supply?”

Landen’s expression brightened. “And we have a winner.”

Velas leaned back, folding her arms. “That doesn’t sound like the type of strategy paladins would typically approve of. They would have had human and Rethri slaves in Orlyn at that point in history – you would have doomed them as well.”

“That’s why I used lysinium toxin. Deadly to Esharen, but it has almost no effect on humans and Rethri, aside from the possibility of rashes or some stomach problems. They didn’t know about it at that point in history, of course, so using my knowledge might not have been considered fair. Apparently, the judges deemed it a legitimate solution.”

“Still, isn’t poison something they would consider dishonorable?” Velas tightened her jaw.
I might have been reading this whole organization wrong.

“Oh, I didn’t use it to kill the whole city. First, we encircled the city, like we would in a traditional siege. Then we gathered both the necessary supplies to poison the water supply – and, this was the tricky part – the supplies necessary for a ritual to neutralize it. Then we sent them a messenger and told them about it, and demanded that they surrender the prince, as well as all their human and Rethri slaves and hostages. In exchange, we would neutralize the poison and withdraw.”

“Couldn’t they just neutralize the poison themselves if they knew about it?”

“They didn’t know the materials necessary for the cure, and I made sure we kept the supply trains far away from our base camp and under extraordinarily heavy guard. Battle sorcerers, anti-scrying fields on the area, the works. They could have taken the time to test the water and try to formulate their own cure, but that would have meant dehydrating their city and risking panic until they had a solution. And while they might have had one or two water sorcerers as slaves, Esharen sorcerers almost never learn water sorcery – they considered it one of the ‘weaker’ sorcery types. So, they wouldn’t have enough sorcerers to make water for the city, or to attempt a ritual to purify the water.”

“I’m a little surprised they didn’t just attack your forces directly, given that they apparently had overwhelming numbers.” Taelien tapped the bottom of his knife on the table, looking slightly perplexed.

“That wouldn’t fix their problem – in fact, it might have made it worse. Esharen are extremely tough, but they still dehydrate just like we do. Engaging in battle would have sped that process up. We tainted our own water supplies with the poison, too, so even if they seized our resources, they’d just end up killing themselves with it.”

“That’s…uncharacteristically devious of you, Landen.” She gave him a nudge. “I’m rather proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he said, setting down the chicken leg. “I don’t know if it would have worked in reality, but the judges seemed to like the core idea. Even gave me this blue flag.” He reached into a pouch on his side and retrieved a cobalt ribbon, about a foot in length. “It’s supposed to cancel out a red flag if I get one of those in another test.”