Aegis of The Gods: Book 02 - Ashes and Blood (24 page)

Instinctively, Ancel looked down at the grime and dirt covering his furs. He had not realized just how dirty they had become.

“Thank you, Master Ewald.” Galiana reached into the folds of her clothes. Moments later came a distinctive clink as coins changed hands. “That will be all.”

Ewald’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you, Shin Galiana. Well, I will leave you to it then and return to my work.” He hurried off.

Outside the stables, night had descended on Harval, and bright lamps illuminated the walls of the buildings. Galiana led them up a path, and before long, they traversed cobbled, drain-lined roads next to cliff homes. They encountered few people on the streets as most of the populace had retired to their homes. Those they came across wore thick fur coats and hats. Ancel shivered despite his clothing. The temperature had dropped considerably, the wind wailing through the pass. In counterpoint to the slight reek of the drains along the streets, the air was refreshing on the bridges. The incessant work at the smiths continued as if the day had only just begun. Higher and higher they went, crisscrossing from one side to the other. Below them, the town sparkled, lamps and windows like small lightflies.

Soon, they stood in front of a four-storied structure, a sign outside proclaiming it to be the Stoneman’s Inn. Shin Galiana pulled open the door, and held it while they passed inside. The soft tinkle of music and shaded lamps greeted them. Ryne had to duck to enter. Mirza found it funny and copied Ryne’s entrance, which held its own humor because the door dwarfed Mirza. Ancel smiled.

They stood in a spacious, plain room with several stone benches against a wall. A table, made of smooth, milky-white stone, dominated one side of the room. Ancel had never seen the like. A buxom woman with earth-colored hair sat behind it.

The woman’s eyes grew round at seeing Ryne and narrowed when they took in Charra. But when her gaze reached Shin Galiana, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She jumped to her feet, smoothing her blue dress.

“Blessed Shin, welcome to the Stoneman.” She bowed from the waist. “I’m Hylda. One moment please, I will fetch Master Gebbert.”

Before Shin Galiana could utter a word, the woman had slipped through a door behind her.

Glass lamps hung from metal braces around the room. No flames flickered within the glass. Ancel crossed the room and examined one of the lamps. He could feel the heat from it, but still could not discern any actual flames. A red hue emanated from within. Even without his Matersense, he understood. He sucked in a breath and turned to Mirza.

“I know. Firelamps,” his friend said with a grin that he soon wiped away.

Ancel started to reply when a man with a chest like double doors, bright eyes and a mouth that snarled when he smiled, entered the room with Hylda at his heels. Burn scars crawled down the side of his face until they disappeared under his shirt. The skin was blotchy and layered in a few places where it had grown over itself several times, leaving that side of his face leathery.

The man ignored Ancel’s stare. He gave a small start when his gaze took in Ryne before he composed himself. “Welcome, Shin Galiana. Hylda, prepare the steam baths.” With a frown in Ryne’s direction, he added, “And the pool.” The good half of his face twisted in distaste at the sight of Charra. “We don’t normally allow animals, Blessed Shin.”

“Make an exception in this case,” Galiana said. “Charra is a well-mannered daggerpaw.”

Gebbert sighed. “Come, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Shin Galiana thanked the innkeeper. They followed him through to the next room. This time, Ryne did not need to duck.

They entered a circular walkway where the music’s volume increased. Loud laughter and the buzz of conversation mixed with the tinkle of dishes. Mirza signaled for Ancel to follow him next to the chest-high wall on their left. He copied his friend and peered over the side.

The inn had nine floors in all, five below them, all lined with similar walkways. Pillars supported each floor at specific intervals. Flights of stairs on opposite sides led to landings. The walls, pillars, and floors were all of the same smooth, white stone. Ancel rubbed his hand along it. Marble.

“The Stoneman is one of the most expensive Inns in Harval.” Mirza had a twinkle in his eyes. “And the most fun.”

The expanse of the bottom floor contained the common room, filled with dancing and carousing patrons. The Whitewater Inn could easily fit inside the Stoneman ten times over. Liveried servers bustled from table to table to patrons, and on a marble stage, a scantily clad woman danced and sang.

She swayed seductively, her melodious voice like the sweet tinkles of a chime, as she sang to the strumming of a harpist sitting behind her. Seeing her dance immediately sparked memories of Kachien and Irmina. Would he see either of them again?

Mirza snickered. “That,” he said, pointing at the girl as if she did not stand out, “is one of the reasons I love this place.”

Ancel reluctantly turned away from the wall and hurried to catch up with the others, Mirza chuckling next to him as they continued on their way.

“Master Faber,” Gebbert said, “I would welcome you downstairs, but your father gave me a scolding the last time. The man has a tongue like salted steel.”

Disappointment flashed across Mirza’s face, but one look from Shin Galiana wiped it away. Ancel grinned at his friend this time as they reached the stairs and went up several flights.

“Ah, Master Gebbert,” Shin Galiana said, as if she just remembered something. “I heard that a few Ashishin have visited Harval. Are they at the town hall?”

Gebbert shook his head. “I see old Master Ewald has been blabbering again. No, Shin Galiana, they aren’t.”

“Oh?”

“Each one was dispatched to a weaponsmith. From what the smithies been saying, they’re helping the Imbuers. I’ve never seen this many
divya
. Not in my lifetime. Some say it’s the Luminance War all over again.”

Shin Galiana had a thoughtful look on her face. “Thank you, Master Gebbert.”

“Well, here we are, Shin Galiana, these are the only two rooms left. Yours is down the hall, one door over.”

“Two are more than enough.” Galiana’s brows were drawn together in a tight frown. Ancel wondered what troubled her.

“They’re both royal suites,” Gebbert added, the good half of his face beaming, “usually reserved for dignitaries and such. I can have some attendants bring over a couple of beds for the young men.”

Shin Galiana shook herself. “Thank you again.”

“You’re most welcome.” The innkeeper hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I’d be careful around the other Ashishin if I were you, Shin Galiana.” Gebbert paused.

“Continue,” Galiana encouraged.

He cleared his throat. “Two months ago, several Pathfinders and a High Shin, think his name was Cantor, came to Harval. They were asking after you four.”

A sense of panic grew in Ancel’s chest. Mirza hissed.

“Are they still here?” Galiana asked.

“No, but almost everyone knows they were looking for you. Especially with him.” He nodded to Ryne. “Not too many fit the description of a giant with tattoos. If I were you, I’d leave as soon as I can. Harval may be a neutral town and all, but it’s only a matter of time before someone sends word to the Tribunal.”

Galiana nodded, her lips drawing into a tight line. “Well then, Gebbert, pass the word among the Matii here. Reclamation has come.”

Chapter 37

T
hree months.
Irmina let out a resigned sigh as she stared out the stained glass windows. From her vantage, the Iluminus’ eastern spires and towers spread like shiny javelins. Beyond the structures and the latticework walkways, the Vallum of Light was a white serpent devouring the darkened countryside. Within the city, the resonance of the essences imbued in the fabric that made up every structure took on a soft, muted glow. As usual, not a shadow formed within the vast city. A reassurance of the superiority of the Streams, of Ilumni’s blessing, of the strength of light and heat, and yet, the luminosity failed to shed light where darkness resided. Within the hearts of men.

Three months and still no sign of Ancel, Ryne, and whoever else had been with them. Not even the slightest hint that the link she had with him ever existed. She wondered if it had even been real. By the time the other search party had come close to retaking the Eldanhill refugees, they’d crossed from the territory near the Kelvore River and into Doster proper. Rather than spark more animosity, they had retreated to avoid a clash with the waiting Dosteri army.

Both parties empty-handed. To say the Exalted weren’t pleased was an understatement. They had been unwilling to accept the daggerpaws and the storm as an excuse, going so far as to threaten bodily harm. The one aspect that seemed to stay their discipline was losing several Pathfinders, a High Shin, and the entire complement of trackers.

Of the Exalted, only two remained in Eldanhill: Leukisa and Ordelia. The others had taken the Eldanhill Council, most of the army, and returned to the Iluminus. All the council members were alive, if a little battered from their torture. Exactly the purpose of the two Exalted, twenty thousand Dagodin, and one cohort of Ashishin, Irmina was unsure, but knowing they were in Eldanhill left uneasiness in her gut.

She inhaled in an attempt to relax, the bellflower candles she burned adorning the air with their aroma. What was there for her to do now? She’d spent the last two months practicing with the Raijin, familiarizing herself once more with the various aspects of their combat formations. Not that she needed to, but she preferred to occupy herself to keep her mind off her current thoughts. A muffled knock issued from the door.

Schooling herself to calm, she strode across the lavish carpets. She pulled open the door, expecting a student bearing her dinner. The tray of food was there, sitting on a wooden stand. From the mouthwatering scent, it was roasted fish and creamed potatoes as she’d ordered, along with some wine. There was no sign of the servant or student who’d delivered the meal.

Irmina peered down and up the hall. She heard no retreating footsteps. With a shrug and a frown, she picked up the tray and paused. The lines on her forehead grew tighter. The food seemed unusually heavy.

She retreated into her room, pushing the door shut with the toe of her boot. After waiting a moment to see if anyone revealed themselves beyond the door, she turned and headed to the dinner table. Gingerly, she set down the tray.

Without much effort, she sensed the essences there. The tray bore the High Jin’s personal mark etched into the wood alongside an insignia of a four-legged animal standing next to a person. A wavy line stretched from the person’s head to the creature. The ancient sign of the beasttamers.

Irmina’s mind drifted to the day of her questioning. High Jin Quintess had not broached the subject of what punishment she was to face, instead stating that once the High Seats finished, that she was to immediately report to the Exalted. However, she’d been ordered to visit Quintess’ office prior to her trip to them. She recalled the meeting.

“It may seem ironic,” Quintess said, “but do you know what I dislike above all else, Irmina?” She was a foot shorter than Irmina but the way she carried herself left little doubt as to who held authority.

“No, High Jin.”

“I dislike secrets.”

When Irmina gave the statement some thought, it
was
ironic. The woman led the Raijin, the Tribunal’s foremost assassins and infiltrators. Their life was secrecy. She remained quiet, not voicing her opinion.

Quintess’ office wasn’t what she expected. For a woman in her position, Irmina had assumed finery would fill the room, as well as artifacts pertaining to Quintess’ station. Instead, aged books, tomes, scrolls, maps and various paintings crammed the shelves, every desk, most spaces along the walls, cabinets, and even the cushioned benches and chairs. Some stacks appeared ready to tip over. The room was more suitable for a philosopher or one of the Great Library’s Custodians.

“I was a Custodian once, a long time ago,” Quintess said, as if reading her thoughts. “So long in fact that I remember your parents before you were born. I knew many of your family. Your aunt, Jillian, was once a student of mine. As a young girl, I was besotted with Garrick Nagel. What would he be now? Your grandfather by six or seven generations?”

“Seven.” Irmina fought against the surge of questions she craved to ask.

“Sadly, even he had his secrets, and they cost him his life.” Disgust twisted the High Jin’s face for a moment. She focused on Irmina. “As yours might cost you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Irmina met her gaze without blinking.

A hint of a smile played across Quintess’ face. “I would expect no less from a Shin trained by Jerem. Soon, though, you will be one of mine.”

Irmina bit back a retort. She belonged to no one.

“There are times I wish I lived in the days when all the Matii were at peace and called the first Iluminus their home. Do you know that legend says it floated in the sky where the Great Divide is now located?”

“No, I did not know, High Jin.” Irmina wondered if there was a point to the conversation beyond hinting at whatever secret she kept.

“Have you ever considered the reason for the split between Matii?”

“War, strife, religious differences, philosophy, the shade …”

“No. It’s much simpler than that, Irmina.” Quintess paused for effect. “Greed. The common hunger among all men for more power. Power to challenge the gods. At least that’s what I believe, but what do I know?”

Irmina arched an eyebrow. “Is this why you brought me here?”

Quintess made a noise in her throat that was neither denial nor approval. “Truth be told, Shin Irmina, yes. I brought you here because greed surrounds us. It will be our downfall. That and secrets. First, I will let you in on one. Originally, those of your family who were slaughtered carried the same ability as you. That of a beasttamer. You are the last of your line with the skill. Jillian comes close, but not quite. Whether she herself is in danger, I cannot tell, but someone has worked for years to see what you are remains a secret. Although it is quite surprising that none of the other councils have been able to influence the woman. I wonder what agenda she follows.” Frowning, Qunitess paused for a moment. “Anyway, I also suspect you are keeping something else to yourself, something important, and it has to do with your trip to Ostania. Eventually, I will have it, but first, I want your trust. Open your Matersense.”

Irmina embraced her Matersense now and picked out the essences Quintess had shown her. Apply heat, untwist light, remove the padding of air, and there on the tray sat a box the length of her arm and more than three hand’s span thick. The whorls in the polished wood spoke of age and care.

Food forgotten, she picked up a note that rested on top the box. She opened it.

Raijin Irmina,

If you are reading this letter then the either the White or the Shadow have found a way to silence me. Not many of us are left who are loyal to the Gray Council ever since our leaders fled the Iluminus. Beware even the White, as they no longer serve the ideals they should. You may ask how I know what I do. Well, throughout the world, there are those who support what the Gray, and all of Matii once stood for, that of protector. Many of them have given their lives as Listeners, picking out stories, finding truths, spying when needed, and relaying it all to those with the power to act. People like myself. Among those, you will find the most support.

Within the pages of this book are the truths I have collected over the years by deciphering the twisted teachings of the Exalted and the Shadow Council. You will also find the known members of each Council, and those who can be trusted. Use the information wisely, as you, Ancel, and Nerian will need it. Yes, I know who Ryne is or was.

As long as I am not dead, you may visit my office and search among the wealth of knowledge there. Not even the Custodians know I have copied the original books. With the Forge I taught you, you will be able to see where I pointed out discrepancies on specific pages. You can compare them to the changed versions in the Great Library.

You will understand once you read the book.

One other issue. Try your best not to let any in the Iluminus become aware of your ability as a tamer. Only one such as yourself can communicate with the mind of a zyphyl. When the day comes that the vasumbrals are unleashed, you will have to free the zyphyl as instructed within this tome. They will be your only hope.

Truth is to lie as order is to chaos.

Quintess.

Hands trembling, Irmina Forged. The letter burst into flames. She released it from her hand and watched as it drifted to the ground, still burning, and then turned to ash. With another Forge, she blocked her door.

Irmina unraveled the seal around the box. The lid eased open of its own accord. Inside was a book, its paper discolored with age, mustiness rising from inside. She lifted it out and set it down on the table. There was no title. At the bottom was several scrolls.

She took them out and unrolled them. Squinting, she repeated the same Forging Quintess taught her that would reveal any tampering. As she began to read, her eyes widened. After the first paragraph, numbness swept through her body. All she could manage was to stare. What she was reading had to be a lie. It just had to be.

But the essences revealed to her the truth of it all. The essences might have their own motives, but they never lied. Ever.

She could tell where someone altered the words. The handwriting on the pages were the same as the ones sent to her by her parents, recording their research and the events before their death. Except for the changes. In the scrolls she had hidden away so long ago, the ones that matched half of these, everything pointed to the Dorns.

The originals showed beyond a doubt those who were truly responsible. The Exalted.

Unbridled rage ripped through her, replacing shock. Vision becoming red, she continued to read even as tears trickled down her face at the names associated with the deception. The name responsible for the murder. All these years of lying. She wept, her body wracked with spam after spasm. Not once did she attempt to curtail her grief or her anger, allowing them to suffuse her, clinging to them.

One thing resonated within her. Whenever she saw the woman again, she would kill her.

Over the next month, Irmina spent most of the day and night in the Great Library. As a Raijin, the Custodians allowed her to peruse almost any books she wanted. Some stayed by her side to make sure she did not damage the precious vellum of the old tomes, but they did not deny her access. Each night she returned to her room and compared what she learned to the massive book given to her by Quintess, often until early morning, her eyes an ocean of red from lack of sleep, but still she pressed on. It was astounding how many books and teachings the Tribunal had altered. Each day provided a bigger surprise than the last.