Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (12 page)

“It’s true.” Caldan reached into his pocket and withdrew a bell. He held his hand palm up with the bell resting on it. Light from his sorcerous globe glittered on the bright silver surface.

Bells’ eyes flicked to the
crafting
then away; she appeared uninterested, but he knew it was an act.

“Is there a way to heal her?” he asked softly.

“You’re taking a chance bringing that this close to me.” Bells smiled, a feral twisting of her lips that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t think so. I think that it has to be in contact with a part of you for you to be able to access it, like your shield
crafting
.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He knelt in front of her. “Teach me how to use it.”

His words hung in the air between them. Caldan knew Bells could see how desperate he was. Though she was his prisoner, she had the upper hand, at least when it came to him.

“Why?” replied Bells.

“So I can cure Miranda. She’s… I can’t stand to see her like this.”

“No, not why you want me to teach you; why should I? I’m bound for torture and probably a slow death. That’s my reward for teaching you?”

“The Quivers wouldn’t do that. They’ll know how valuable you are.”

“Valuable? Once the Protectors extract whatever information from me they can, I’ll be worthless, and an embarrassment to them. They have tried to conceal and destroy knowledge of destructive and coercive sorcery for hundreds of years, and here I am, one of their worst nightmares come to life. I’m afraid I won’t last long then. So, I’ll ask again: what do I get out of it?”

Caldan took a deep breath. “Freedom,” he said. He clamped down on his uneasiness. He couldn’t let her go as she was too dangerous. And she wanted to kill him, so lying to her wasn’t so bad, was it? “Before we reach Riversedge. I’ll make it look like you escaped. You can disappear into the city or try to make your way back to Anasoma; I don’t care. By the time you get back, the emperor will have sent enough soldiers to retake the city, and most likely the walls will be surrounded. You won’t be able to avoid them to get back inside, so whatever happens will probably be over before you find a way in or return to your troops.”

Bells regarded him with her dark eyes. “And you give me my
crafting
s back.”

“No. I’m not giving them back to you; they’re not part of the deal. You’ll have to do without them.”

Bells sniffed and nodded behind him. “What about your friends? I dare say they wouldn’t want to let me go. You’ll have to lie to them and come up with a plan where I can escape without them knowing.”

“I can worry about that later. Right now, I need you to help Miranda.”

“I will. Give me the
crafting
.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? No. You will have to teach me.”

“Can’t do that, I’m afraid; not enough time. And isn’t this something the Protectors forbid? Won’t you be damning yourself, if I teach you?”

Yes. But she doesn’t need to know that. “I don’t think so… but it’s worth the risk.”

“Coercive sorcery is tricky, much more so than any other, and I’m not an expert. But… there are some things we are all taught early… on how the mind works, and repairing damage. Our masters, well, things can go wrong even when you think you are in control.” Bells’ smile faltered. “A very few are selected to learn more than the basics, those the masters deem to have the mental complexity.” She spat the word.

Caldan nodded, keeping silent. He didn’t want to interrupt the flow of words from Bells lest she stop altogether and reconsider her position.

She shifted her weight and stretched her neck, lips pressed into a tight line. “If I show you a few things, then you have to release me, somewhere away from these soldiers, and where I have a few days’ head start before any pursuit. Whether I decide to hide in this city ahead of us or go back to Anasoma is for me to decide. You have to promise not to come after me.”

“I’ll need to think about it.”

“Don’t think too long, little Protector. Who knows what’s happening to your precious Miranda while you wait? I only hope it’s not too late already.”

Caldan stiffened at her words, while Bells regarded him, unblinking. Knowing she was probably baiting him into a rash decision didn’t help lessen the guilt he felt at Miranda’s predicament. He sighed, then relaxed and shook his head.

“And what assurance do I have that you won’t carry out your threat to kill us all?”

“Why… none. But either you want Miranda back to normal or you don’t. As I see it, you really don’t have much choice. No one else can help you.”

With a grunt, Caldan contemplated the bell still clutched in his palm. She was right. He knew it, and she knew it. He had no choice but to make a deal with her and hope she told the truth, then break his word. Except, everything rested on the assumption she didn’t hold Miranda somehow responsible for Keys’ death, because he knew—he knew—if she did, then she wouldn’t want her to get better, and whatever she taught him couldn’t be trusted. But on her own, with no
crafting
s to use, what could she do he couldn’t shield against?

For long moments he sat, silent, contemplating her words. He analyzed her actions and what she’d said over the last few days, trying to decide if he could trust her in this one thing.

A shrill scream pierced the night—Elpidia, coming from close by the wagon. Caldan jumped to his feet. Outside, shouts from the soldiers escorting them joined the commotion.

“What did you do?” he demanded of Bells.

She grinned, teeth flashing white. “Nothing, but it sounds like I won’t need to teach you anything, after all.”

He backed away then leapt out of the wagon.

Around the camp, the three soldiers had drawn their swords and were advancing on Amerdan, at whose feet was the body of their comrade, Breyton. The prone soldier’s uniform was covered in blood and slashed all over with tiny, precise cuts, as if he’d been struck by hundreds of small knives. Amerdan frowned at the advancing soldiers and raised his hands in a placating gesture. Elpidia looked on with frightened eyes, hands over her mouth to stifle her sobs.

Caldan looked around frantically, searching for Miranda, and spotted her at the edge of the clearing, covered with a blanket. Elpidia must have made her comfortable while he was talking with Bells.

“What did you do?” shouted Ettmo at Amerdan.

The shopkeeper held his hands out, palms up to show he had no weapon. “Nothing,” he replied calmly. “I was coming back to the camp after my walk and almost tripped over him in the dark. He was like this when I found him.”

Silence reigned for a moment as the Quivers considered his words. Around them, a gust of wind whistled through the trees. It brought a whiff of lemons to Caldan before the scent was whisked away on the breeze.

Breaking the tension, Elpidia hurried to her gear and grabbed her satchel, rushing to the injured soldier and kneeling beside him.

Amerdan glanced down at her.

“Sheathe your swords and help your friend,” he said to the soldiers. “I fear he needs all the help he can get.”

“You must have done this,” said Boyas, and the others nodded.

Amerdan laughed. “We need you, in case you idiots hadn’t realized. That’s why we came to you.”

Realizing the situation could escalate out of control, Caldan decided to step in. “Listen everyone! Calm down. There’s no reason for him to have done this, none at all. Something else is going on.”

Amerdan nodded at his words, while the Quivers muttered among themselves. Over the wounded Breyton, Elpidia sat back on her heels and wiped her brow with bloody hands, leaving a red trail.

“He’s…” She looked up at the soldiers. “I’m afraid he’s dead. Too much blood loss.” She shook her head. “There wasn’t anything we could have done, even if we had found him earlier. There are too many… cuts.” She stood and stepped away from the body.

All three soldiers cursed and approached, eyes flicking between the corpse of Breyton and Amerdan, who took a step back to give them room.

“There,” said Amerdan. “I couldn’t have done this without him making enough noise to alert everyone, could I?”

Lavas sneered at Amerdan then directed the other two to get a blanket and cover the body. “I guess not,” he said reluctantly. “Then what’s going on?”

“Sorcery,” replied Amerdan, looking toward Caldan.

All three soldiers followed his gaze and stared at Caldan.

“I… I don’t know what could have done this.”

Boyas looked away, disgust on his face, while Ettmo grimaced at Caldan. “Then why are you here? I thought you were our protection against sorcery?”

Lavas slid his sword into its scabbard. “Leave Breyton,” he ordered.

“But we can’t just leave him,” protested Ettmo.

“For now. Clear the perimeter, both of you. And don’t separate. Then get our gear together and prepare the wagon. We’re getting out of here.”

Nodding, the two soldiers moved out of the light and into the surrounding trees.

“What? Why leave?” Caldan asked.

Elpidia folded her arms across her chest and held herself tight, while Amerdan shrugged and warmed his hands by the fire.

“Because it’s not safe here. Whatever happened to Breyton could happen to anyone else on watch.” He waved a hand at Caldan. “And you obviously can’t protect us. Our safest option is to stay together, and since I assume no one will be sleeping tonight, we may as well put some distance between us and this place. We’ll put Breyton in the wagon and get out of here as quick as we can.”

“Wait, just wait,” said Caldan. “What if this is what they want?”

“They?” scoffed Lavas. “I ain’t listening to you. How do you know there’s more than one? You don’t even know what happened.”

“I… er… it’s sorcery, that much I know. And that’s something only I can protect us from.”

“A fine job you’ve done so far.”

“Listen, we both thought we were safe. That no one was following us.”

Lavas grunted and looked around the camp. His soldiers returned and signaled they had found nothing, then they busied themselves with their gear.

Elpidia watched for a moment then gathered up her satchel and went to pack up the rest of her belongings.

“We’re leaving. No argument.” The corporal’s words were delivered flat and toneless. “Get your things, and get in the wagon. I want a good bit of distance covered by the time the sun comes up.”

Caldan left the corporal standing over the body and joined Elpidia and Amerdan in collecting their gear. Elpidia muttered under her breath about ‘constant delays’ and kept glaring at him, though he didn’t know how this was his fault. Amerdan watched them both while they worked; as usual, he didn’t have anything much to pack; every night all he did was take off his belt with pouches and knives before he slept.

Searching through his gear, Caldan drew out one of his few remaining pieces of paper and used the back of his saddlebags as a makeshift surface to enable him to draw properly. Soon he had the paper covered with hurriedly drawn symbols. Nothing intricate, but he wasn’t aiming for anything complex. After blowing on the ink to ensure it was dry, he folded the paper into quarters, leaving his most prominent symbol visible. He walked over to a tree and selected a thin branch. He used his knife to carve a notch in the bark and slipped the folded paper into it.

He turned to find Amerdan behind him.

“What will that do?”

“Maybe I should have done something earlier… but it’s a variation of an attribute I used in my metal automaton. I will be able to see through it, for a limited time. The paper won’t last long.”

“Interesting. You’ll have to tell me more about sorcery.”

Caldan nodded. “One day, when we have more time.”

The shopkeeper returned his nod and walked toward the wagon. The soldiers had stowed their gear and were helping Elpidia and Miranda inside. Amerdan lifted himself easily into the wagon, and Caldan joined him.

Again, they left their fire blazing and fled into the night. Inside the wagon, Caldan ignored Bells, who sniggered at him as he climbed in.

Opening his well, he split out a string and linked to his paper
crafting
in the tree, closing his eyes as he prepared to keep watch.

He wriggled his battered wristband onto his left arm and thrust a hand in his pocket, closing his fingers around Bells’ shield
crafting
. He knew his own
crafting
wouldn’t last long if pressed, but any extra shielding might prove the difference if it came down to an all-out fight.

Chapter Seven

“You look worried, Vasile. Anything troubling you?”

“Eh? No, nothing. I mean… the invasion, of course, and everything that’s happened.” Vasile’s reply sounded forced to his own ears but the Aidan only smiled before looking away.

Barely past dawn, the morning breeze had strengthened and their ship had turned, the side they were on now facing the shore. Seagulls circled overhead, mistaking the ship for a fishing vessel, and their raucous cries grated on his ears.

Vasile returned to pissing over the side of the ship, a little put off by Aidan’s comment and the fact he had chosen to stand right next to Vasile while he too pissed over the side. And that was probably his intent, he realized. He hurriedly tucked his shirt in and did up his trousers before Aidan could finish himself. He turned and almost ran into Chalayan.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, moving to push past the sorcerer, who blocked his path.

An expressionless Anshul appeared behind Chalayan, making escape impossible.

Vasile frowned at Chalayan. “What are you playing at?”

The sorcerer gripped his shoulder and regarded him with distaste. “I’m not going to pay you,” he said, enunciating each word slowly and deliberately. “Five hundred and twelve silver ducats. I’ve killed men for less.”

Vasile swallowed, acutely aware of Aidan behind him and the two men blocking his path. He doubted Aidan was a bloodthirsty killer, but these two he wasn’t so sure of. And Chalayan had spoken the truth about killing someone for less.

“I told you the debt didn’t matter. I don’t expect payment,” he said, hoping to head off any argument.