His Ancient Heart (19 page)

Eryn didn't even have time to finish her question. The door swung open, and Overlord Prezi entered.

She wasn't sure what to expect. She had no idea what to say. The woman in front of her was beautiful, resplendent in a dark green dress whose style matched the one Eryn herself was wearing, though her adult figure certainly filled it out better. She was also confident, standing with a posture and set to her face that made Eryn have to catch herself before she curtsied to the woman. They weren't allies. Not officially. Not yet.

The Overlord motioned with her finger, and Fehri bowed to them both and left the room, closing the door behind him. Eryn felt her heart lurch at being left alone with the woman. She was certain the Overlord could overpower her with her magic before she could even react.

I hope Talon was right.
 

They stood facing one another, leaving the silence hanging thick in the air. Each appraised the other, as though an unspoken challenge had been agreed to.
 

"Talon didn't tell me what a rare beauty he had discovered," the Overlord said at last. "He spoke very highly of you. He's willing to go to Heden and back to keep you safe."

Eryn allowed herself to take a breath, her tense posture deflating as she did. "And what of you, Caela? What are you willing to do for him? For us?" She didn't use her title or call her 'my Lady'. Just because she was helping them now... her anger over the labor camp smoldered.

"I gave you my cure."

"And I thank you for it, though I might not have needed it if you hadn't helped General Clau catch up to us."

Wilem had told her about his meeting with the Overlord, and about the betrayal that had nearly killed them both.
 

"Two fugitives working to destroy the Empire? Would you have done any different in my place, if you didn't know any better?"

"Why? Why do you follow
him
? Why do you listen to
him
?" She had promised herself she would keep her emotions in control. She had told Fehri she would try. It wasn't good enough. "My mother, my father, my brother. All dead. Elling..."

She expected the Overlord would respond with anger. She was surprised by her calm.
 

"Order," the Overlord replied. "All societies must have order. Without it, there are too many people vying for control, too many hands reaching for a finite power. Do you know what that leads to? War. Death. Destruction. Famine. At levels that cannot be guessed or controlled, for years and years with no promise of an end. Order is what
he
offers the people. That is what
he
offered me, when I learned I was Cursed. Be part of the order, and for every Cursed you kill, for every man and woman you imprison, you will protect the lives of thousands more."

"You believed that?"

"We thought we were doing this for them.
He
lied to me, and to all of us.
He
stole our history, our heritage, not to protect them, but to protect
himself
. We followed blindly, in part because we trusted, and in part because to not trust was to die. A thousand years is more than enough time to turn lies into truth, and truth into lies." She paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Long enough that I would never have believed what Talon had to say, if it had been anyone but Talon. If he hadn't brought the creature." The Overlord stepped closer to Eryn, dipping slightly, so they were at eye level. "I'm sorry about your family, Eryn. I'm sorry for being blind. I cannot undo what I've done, and I don't have the power to turn openly against
him
. Not yet. I am doing what I can, and that includes hiding you here and preparing you for what is to come."

Eryn stared into her eyes. There was no deceit there, no malevolence. She forced herself to calm. "Thank you. What do you mean, preparing me?"

"Talon believes in the strength of your Curse. He told me of the demons; he called them Shifters. That they wanted you for your power. With my education at the Academy and my experience, I can help you gain mastery over the power, to help you control it and temper it before it destroys you."

"You already gave me your cure. I can't use the magic without accelerating the disease." She put her hand to the sleeve of her glove and pulled it down, showing the Overlord the gray skin.

"May I?" The Overlord asked, positioning her fingers over it.

"You want to touch it?"

"If what Talon says is true, without the cure, this will happen to me as well."

"Only if you've been in contact with ebocite, the black crystal."

"I have," the Overlord said. "Many years ago. I found a shard of it on the beach, near my home in Tilling."

Eryn drew back in surprise. "You're from Elling province?"

"Yes. Tilling is on the shore, where the Baden feeds out into the Great Sea. My parents were wealthy merchants - they built trade ships that sailed all along the coast of the Empire, and to the northern islands. I was brought to the Academy when I was eleven. Young for a Mediator in training."
 

"I was twelve when I discovered I had the Curse," Eryn said. "You must be stronger than me."

"It is possible, but not definite. Age is only one measurement of power." She motioned at the gray flesh again. "I can judge the strength of your Curse if you let me. May I?"

Eryn nodded, watching as the Overlord ran her fingertip along the rough skin. She lingered there for only a moment, and then raised the same hand to Eryn's cheek.
 

"This won't hurt at all," the Overlord said, cupping it in her hand and bringing their eyes level. Eryn could feel the Overlord's magic growing, at the same time she examined her eyes. They were beautiful, deep eyes. Comforting eyes. She began to feel hot.

Before she knew what was happening, she felt the tingle between her ears and the flow of her magic rushing up through her. She tried to move, to escape the Overlord and fight against the surge.
 

There was no time.
 

The Overlord's eyes widened, and then she was thrown backwards away from Eryn, the force of the magic flinging her across the room like a rag. She crashed through a stack of books and into the wall, letting out only a soft whimper as her body slammed into it and slumped against the ground.

The power subsided at once, vanishing from Eryn so quickly she nearly fell over herself. Her heart was racing, a feeling of panic rushing through her.
 

Did I just kill the Overlord?

She could feel the hot tears of blood running down her cheeks, a stream so fierce it left a trail down her neck and between her breasts. What had just happened? She hadn't summoned the magic. She didn't want to hurt her.

The door opened.

Fehri stepped in. His eyes went first to the Overlord, motionless against the wall, and then to Eryn, coming towards him, her face and neck red with blood.
 

"Eryn?"

She stumbled, still feeling weak. Her entire body was pounding, throbbing. He took two quick steps forward and caught her.
 

"It was an accident," she whispered. The Overlord must have done the same thing to other Cursed. She clearly hadn't felt threatened.
 

"Tell me what happened," Fehri said. His strong arms kept her on her feet.

"I don't know. I don't know. She was trying to feel my Curse. I told her she could."

Fehri held her in one arm, using the other to grab the door and pull it closed behind him. Then he walked Eryn to the desk and helped her rest against it. He went to the Overlord's side and kneeled down, putting his hand to her neck.
 

"She's alive," he said. "Her breathing is shallow but steady."

Eryn felt a sense of relief wash over her, along with a chill that left her shaking.

"Wait here. Keep an eye on her. I'm going to get Trock, and have Reema cancel the rest of the assembly for the day. I'll be right back."

Fehri opened the door again, squeezed himself out, and shoved it closed behind him. Eryn could hear his boots against the floor as he hurried off at a fast walk.
 

She sat on the desk for a few minutes while she waited for the shaking to stop. She kept her eyes on the Overlord the entire time, watching her face and chest for any hint that she had stopped breathing. Once she felt strong enough, she hopped down off the desk and went to kneel at the woman's side.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking the Overlord's hand in hers. Her anger over the mines, the labor camps, everything, was forgotten. The Overlord was the same as she was in many ways, the same as Wilem. Born in Elling province, like her. Taken from her home as a child, raised to be an instrument for the Empire. She did what she knew, and when she had learned different, she had done different.
 

It is all any of us can ask for, or hope to achieve.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Spyne

"Open the gate," Spyne roared at the squad of guards standing watch outside of it. He was tired, hungry, dirty. All he wanted was to get to the palace, have a bath and a meal, and get back out on the road.
 

North. To Edgewater.
 

That's where Worm said Talon was headed. The painted man had informed him that he had already reached Doovan and that there was some kind of battle there, a battle involving use of the Curse.

At least, that's what he thought the Historian was trying to say, with his hand gestures and pantomime. How he knew anything about it was beyond Spyne's understanding.

The soldiers didn't open the gate. Instead, they put their hands to swords, the ones on the walls picking up their bows and taking aim.

"On whose authority?" Sergeant Olms asked. He could see the man was wearing soldier blacks, but anyone could have the blacks made to pretend to be a solider. The bear of a man in front of him was filthy and haggard, and not even riding a horse. The one with the tattoos... they looked like bandits to him. Or rebels.

"General Spyne, by Heden," Spyne said, not slowing his approach towards them. He reached into his pocket, trying to find the signet ring that would identify him to the few ignorant bastards who didn't already know who he was. It had sunk to the bottom, and his patience was thin enough already. "Open the gate."

Sergeant Olms started to draw his sword, until one of the archers called down to him.

"Sergeant, open the gate. That's him, General Spyne. I seen him before. Know that face anywhere."

Spyne glanced up at him for the comment, and he lowered the bow and bowed his head.

"Open the gates," Olms said, suddenly panicked. "Hurry, now."

The gates swung in, the soldiers working hard to appease the General.

"My apologies, General. We can't be too careful, since the incident with the false Liar."

Spyne had been planning to go right through the gates and make a line to the palace. Now he drew to a stop. Sergeant Olms shook visibly when the General turned his attention to him.

"False Liar?" he asked.

Olms bowed his head, looking at Spyne's feet. "Yes, my Lord. A man was hanged a few nights back, looked just like the Liar. Tall, blue eyes. He and a hulk of a man killed three soldiers right out in the open, before the city guard surrounded them. We thought it was the Liar until the Overlord set us straight. The big one was killed trying to escape, the other one hanged."

General Spyne pursed his lips in interest. He remembered Talon as he was. He never kept his hair long, because it tended to get sweaty and uncomfortable in the heat of the metallurgic furnaces. "Did you see the hanging, Sergeant?"

"No, General. I was on duty."

"I seen it, my Lord," the same archer called down again. "If the Overlord hadn't said it wasn't so, I would've taken him for the Liar right away." He paused and met Spyne's gaze for only a bare instant. "I heard his companion was carrying the biggest sword anyone's ever seen. Nearly cut Pelham and Dunn right in half with one stroke."

The General was even more intrigued by this bit of news. The description could certainly match that of the missing juggernaut, but it had to be a mistake. The Overlord had served
him
loyally for almost sixty years. She wasn't about to fake the death of their greatest threat.
 

Was she?

Everything he knew had been turned upside down in recent days. His memories flooded back to him, with all the pain and anger they carried with them. Who was to say she remained as loyal today as she had been in days past? Who was to say she wasn't? There was only one way to find out.

Spyne didn't say anything else to the soldiers. He motioned for the Historians to follow him, and they made their way through the gates and into the city.
 

The commoners kept a wide berth around Spyne and his men, even if they didn't know exactly who they were. They looked dangerous, and it was enough. Merchants calling out their wares silenced as they passed, beggars backed into alleys, and even the patrolling soldiers gave them extra room.

Worm grabbed a small pastry from a cart as they walked, making a face that dared the young girl selling them to question his thievery. Spyne didn't stop him, or reprimand him. He never cared about such petty things, and he cared even less about it now.

The biggest sword anyone has ever seen? A tall man with blue eyes? A hanging? Murder in the streets of Varrow?

Spyne had never been a smart man. In Genesia he had been responsible for keeping the plants healthy, a gardener. It was Tella who was the important one.
 

At least, until they had needed someone compatible.

Still, he wasn't completely stupid. How could the Overlord think she could get away with something like that? Perhaps because no one but a General would question her words, and he was one of only nine.
 

Six.

He knew when they lost a brother. He could feel it when their light went out, as though each was an ember from the same fire. He knew Talon was still alive. For now.