Stealing Sorcery (31 page)

“Seems likely. I will inquire about a ‘Stallion’ at the Thornguard base tomorrow.”

Jonan scratched his chin. “Thanks. I haven’t found much – I talked to one other ‘ess’, but she didn’t have anything on him.”

Rialla narrowed her indigo eyes. “You didn’t tell me you had another contact here.”

“She’s just someone I had to deliver something to. Symphony prefers for us to keep our information compartmentalized.”

“I am aware, but I find it frustrating.”

Jonan covered his face with his hand. “Why’d you get involved with her? I warned you not to. This… you shouldn’t have to deal with assignments like this.”

“Really? You’re going to chastise me for taking a deal with your own master?”

Jonan put his hand down, tensing his jaw. “I didn’t choose this life, Rialla. I brought you to Selyr to try to find help. You follow Aayara long enough, the only thing you’re going to find is knives in the dark.”

Rialla pushed herself off the floor, leaning down toward Jonan. “You think I don’t know that? You’re sweet, Kestrian, but you’re also hopelessly naïve if you think I ever had a choice. She found me within days of my arrival in Selyr and made me an offer. I delayed as long as I could, but Elias needed help.”

Jonan lay back on the ground, turning his head away. “There were other choices. Rethri sorcerers who might have looked for the solution to your brother’s problem – or other Vae’kes. Ones with smaller prices for their help, like Diamond or Sharp.”

“You think going to another Vae’kes after Aayara offered me employment would have worked in my favor? Please, Kestrian, listen to yourself. Going to Sharp just would have put me in Aayara’s net through an intermediary. Going to Diamond would have risked angering her – and Diamond would have offered no protection from that.”

Jonan shut his eyes. “The cost, though—”

Rialla smiled softly. “Where I come from, there’s a nursery rhyme about the Blackstone assassin.”

“
Ever fear the stone of black, for when you are alone, the Blackstone the shadow comes to visit you, and traps you in his stone
—”

“That’s the one. It never scared me. When I was young, it was just a silly rhyme. By the time I was old enough to understand it, I knew there were worse fates than anything Jacinth offered. A swift blade through the heart doesn’t scare me.”

Rialla tightened her hands into fists. “Symphony, on the other hand? Her stories terrified me. The story about Red Connor, who scorned Symphony and found his wife and children dead by his own hand. The tale of the Mad Countess, who claimed to be more beautiful than Aayara, and woke without a face. Those are the costs for defying the Thief, Jonan.”

“I know.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to attract her to you.”

“No, Jonan.” She smiled. “A master of terrifying power may be exactly what I need.”

Lydia rubbed at her temples, ineffectively combating the headache that was developing from the overuse of her sorcery. As much as she would have preferred to use more mundane searching methods, they simply weren’t time efficient – and the longer she waited, the higher the likelihood the assassin could claim a second victim.

Wonder which bits of knowledge I sacrificed today. Maybe I’ll fail to recognize one of my friends when I go back to the citadel. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Climbing the spiral staircase between rooms, she briefly removed a small mirror from her pouch, glancing at the surface. A fresh note was reflected in the mirror, causing her to momentarily pause in her step.

Most likely not one of mine. Others more likely.

Blake Hartigan. Ulandir Ta’thyriel. Shalvinar Vorinthal. Nakane Theas. Volanen Dianis. Erik Tarren.

Lydia slipped the mirror away.

Erik Tarren? That’s a rather depressing thought, but not quite crazy. I doubt it’s Nakane. Her reaction to her brother’s death has been pretty cold, but that’s probably just a reflection of her father’s personality. Baron Theas has a reputation for being very matter-of-fact.

I’ll need to write back to Jonan soon and see if I can get him to investigate some of the others while I finish things here.

She shook her head, moving to the entrance of the next chamber, with Blake Hartigan only a few steps behind her. Thus far, he had shown only amusement at her efforts to find signs that he was responsible for Kalsiris Theas’ death. She had suspected the legendary sorcerer would have restricted her movements within the tower, but he had simply allowed her to wander through his home, throwing investigative spells out in the most efficient ways she could manage. His home was littered with objects carrying sorcerous auras – even some of the silverware had glowed under her observation. The man was famous for his enchanting skills, but even she hadn’t expected the sheer number of dominion bonded items he had around. A thief could have retired by pawning the contents of one of Hartigan’s closets.

By the time she found a room that interested her, Lydia’s mind was burning from the scars of information her dominion had torn from her mind. Nevertheless, when she opened the door to the alchemical lab, she continued with her usual procedure.

“
Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate that which is touched by your cousins.”

The flash of green illuminated the content of dozens of vials on the shelves and tables of the circular chamber. Lydia forced herself not to blink, maintaining the effect while she searched for spots with unusual intensity or other objects that provided a glow.

She found what she was looking for on the second shelf from the top on the left side of the chamber.

“Dominion Essence, solid form,” she noted, inspecting the row of glowing jars. The jars were circular, with a broad base – about the length of a hand. Some contained only a few pebble-sized nuggets. Others were completely filled. She blinked, dismissing her spell, which allowed her to read the labels on the sides of the jars.

Dominion of Flame.

Dominion of Flame – Refined.

Dominion of Lightning.

Dominion of Protection.

Dominion of Sight.

Dominion of Air.

Dominion of Motion.

Dominion of Knowledge.

Dominion of Travel.

Lydia adjusted her glasses, inspecting the last jar. There were only a few stones inside, each seemingly a small, perfect sphere.
They look like the marbles I used to play with as a child. How oddly ordinary.

No Dominion of Poison, but of course, he wouldn’t necessarily keep anything that incriminating along with the rest of the supplies. And these are solid – just like the stone I found.

She turned to Hartigan. “It’s unusual to see dominion essence in a solid form when it isn’t for a solid dominion, like stone or metal. You also seem to have an extraordinary amount of some of these types. Can you explain to me how you obtained this essence and what it is used for?”

“Well, if you have time for a lecture, I suppose. I thought you were here for an investigation.” He scratched at his chin, his eyes showing his amusement. “That ring you’re wearing. How do you think it was made?”

She lifted up her hand, glancing at the blue-white crystal inlaid in the silvery band. “Typically, objects are dominion bonded by saturating them in the desired form of essence, and then casting a spell to activate the essence within, creating a specific persistent effect. The object is powered by the essence until the supply runs out.”

Hartigan nodded, waving a hand. “Yes, typically. What about that ring?”

I didn’t come here to feel like a child in a classroom.
“You’re implying that the crystal in the band is dominion essence, I take it?”

“Yes, but that’s not the important part. It was something of a trick question, unless you’ve had a chance to look beneath the gem.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Beneath the gem?”

“That’s where the marks go.”

Lydia folded her arms, standing up straighter and shifting her weight.
That…would make some degree of sense, actually. I had assumed Donovan had come up with his method of dominion marking items – and later, people – completely on his own. If Hartigan had already figured out how to mark items, Donovan just needed to figure out how to apply them to people, rather than objects. That would have required much less research, and less of a logical leap to even get started with the attempt.

She glanced back at the jars, then straight at Hartigan. “If that’s true – and this is a dominion marked ring – that means you’ve known how to mark items for years.”

The sorcerer nodded, leaning back against a table in the center of the room that hosted a wide variety of alchemical supplies. “Yes, that’s true.”

Her expression darkened into a glower. “And you taught that technique to Donovan, and presumably some of your other apprentices?”

The ancient sorcerer let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Yes, I did. I can see where this line of questioning is going.”

“Why? Why didn’t you share that knowledge with everyone? The things we could make if we knew how –”

“That’s precisely the reason why I didn’t give out that knowledge freely, girl. People are dangerous enough without the kind of weapons they could develop with dominion marks. I took the utmost care in ensuring my creations would not be abused – and even so, I failed. I gave that ring to Donovan – gave him the secrets necessary to make more items like it – and he used that knowledge to make the pretense of godhood.”

Hartigan stood up, the humor faded from his expression. He took a step forward, straightening his back and leaning forward. “Donovan was a good man. One of the best I knew. He was a true believer in Sytira, and in sharing for the betterment of all those that live. You saw first-hand the results of his dedication to that cause.”

Lydia took a step back. Hartigan was vastly more intimidating when he was looming over her, no longer projecting the illusion of a simple old man. The mirth on his face had shifted into a blend of anger and sorrow, and she had little interest in provoking that further – but she could not stop herself from speaking.

“Donovan was only capable of that deception because so few of us could even conceptualize the idea of humans being able to create dominion marks. Even the knowledge that the technique was possible could have prevented –”

“Bah. He wasn’t deceiving a city full of sorcerers, Miss Scryer. He was lying to ordinary folks, in the same manner other sorcerers have for centuries. You think a farmer or a blacksmith knows enough about sorcerous theory to say ‘Oh, he’s probably just using dominion marks’? That’s folly, and you should know better.”

“You’re mischaracterizing my argument. He had other sorcerers working for him – and certainly many others passing through the kingdom. One of them would have figured him out.”

“And who is to say that they didn’t? You may have been the one to take the steps to overthrow him, yes, but that does not mean that others were unaware of his actions. One does not simply overthrow a god – real or false – without consequences. What is happening in his city now, I wonder?”

Byron is ruling, at least in name. His mother most likely continues to puppet the government, but now she lacks any significant competition. She retains her reputation as a ‘goddess’, even with Edon marked as a traitor. If she proves to be a worse ruler than Edon was, we may have made a terrible mistake.

“Nevertheless,” she looked away, “There is a significant potential for doing good with this type of knowledge. I can understand your hesitation, since Donovan clearly abused the trust you gave him, but that does not mean that you were wrong to teach him.”

Hartigan let out a deep laugh, bending over at the waist. “Oh, child. The irony may be lost on you, but you sound just like he did.”

She turned back to him, tilting her head to the side.

Hartigan rubbed at his forehead. “Donovan told me the same thing, you know. That we should share all my secrets – compressing essence, my supposed immortality, how to make dominion marks. In some respects, I’m surprised he didn’t do it himself after he left my service. You heard him preach, I’m sure, or at least heard about his philosophy – that humans should strive toward divinity. Ultimately, I’m sure that’s why he claimed to be a god himself; he wanted to believe it was possible, and to encourage others to do the same. And yet, he still did not share the secrets. Why do you think that is?”

“I assumed it was that he only wanted to extend that kind of power to people he trusted would not use it against him. His knowledge was the most powerful tool for his vendetta against the true gods.”

“Perhaps that was a part of the answer. And, in some respects, I admit it is part of my own. Fear. But not a fear of my own death at the hands of other sorcerers, as you might expect – I faced the inevitability of my own demise many years ago. You may find that strange to hear, coming from a supposed immortal, but the truth is that at my age, death is a constant companion. I will welcome the chance to meet him when my work is done, but that, I fear, is a long way away.”

Lydia folded her hands in front of her. “If not death, then, what do you fear?”

“Nothing less than the extinction of the human race, my dear. That, I believe, is where sharing this knowledge with the world would lead.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “That’s quite a leap. I saw Donovan manage some impressive things, and I’ve heard stories about Hartigan’s Star, but—”

“Hartigan’s Star is the pinnacle of my accomplishments – and my eternal shame. I should have destroyed it as soon as I realized what it was capable of. I still should destroy it, my pride – and my fear – bar me from the rational course.”

“Why would you want to destroy the ring?”

He lowered his head. “Because, Miss Scryer, that ring could consume the world in fire.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Surely you’re being hyperbolic with that statement.”

“I do not think so. Have you attempted to use that ring you are wearing?”

She lifted up her right hand, examining the ring again. “Yes, but I have never managed to make it work.”

“Good. That means Donovan did not abandon the protections I placed on it – not entirely, at least. Show me how you’ve tried to use it.”

She pointed her hand at him. “You certain that’s a good idea? There are sorcerous objects all over this room.”

“We both know the ring isn’t going to activate, I just want to see your methodology.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Please, humor me.”

I don’t really want to give away that I’ve been studying the language Edon constructed, but the potential gains from this conversation outweigh the risks.

“Eru volar shen taris,” she spoke, using the same incantation Edon had to create his blue-white fire. She had tried the other incantations Edon had used as well, but none of them appeared to function. Her identification spell had indicated the ring was tied to the dominion of flame, indicating that the fire spell was the most likely candidate for the ring’s function.

“Ah, interesting.” He nodded. “Thank you. You seem to have some idea of what you’re doing, but you’re missing a key step. And one you couldn’t have been fairly expected to guess.”

You don’t need to placate me, just give me the answer.
“Which is?”

“Do you know what makes dominion marked items superior to simple dominion bonded ones?”

Lydia sighed.
Another question to answer a question. I don’t blame him for wanting to flaunt his knowledge, but this is getting a little excessive.

“Primarily flexibility, from what I understand. A dominion bonded item just has a pool of essence from a single dominion to draw from and a set function. Edon appeared to be able to make the same item have multiple different functions by invoking the dominion mark in different ways.”

Hartigan turned around, lifting a vial off of the table. “A good answer, but not the key one, if you’ll forgive my sorcery pun. In fact, until I heard your incantation there, I had barely considered the application you just described. That’s all Edon’s work, and I thank you for sharing it with me.”