The Mirrored City (23 page)

Winterholt took it and sniffed it. “By the Host. What in Creation is this?”

“We were hoping you could tell us, if not where it is then anything about it,” Heath said.

“This is bad, very, very bad.” She handed the strip of cloth back to Lyta. “That blood comes from a chimera. I trust you know what that is.”

Heath glowered. “I do. Thank you for your time.”

Stories of such creatures had circulated among the witch hunters of the Inquisition. Chimeras were biomantic horrors pieced together from the disparate remnants of other creatures. They weren’t truly alive or dead. Heath had never tangled with one, but Sword had colorful stories. Heath would try back at their apartments first, but the local branch of the Inquisition might have more reliable information.

Winterholt studiously ignored them, humming tunelessly to herself as she unhooked her donor from the taps.

They left the laboratory.

Heath explained everything he knew about chimeras as they made their way through the crowded streets of the Diviner’s District. They were both exhausted. Neither had slept, and only the thrill of the hunt and generous servings of red ginger tea kept them alert. Heath’s heart pumped hard in his chest from the stimulants in the tea, and his extremities tingled.

He had fond memories of the tireless, sleepless witch hunts of his youth. The lifestyle no longer agreed with him. Lyta seemed to be holding up better.

“So what is Shannon?” Heath finally asked.

Lyta evaded, “She’s the love of my life.”

“You heard Winterholt. She’s not human. Is she like you?”

“It’s not my place to say.”

Heath stood in front of her and stopped. “I need to know what I’m getting into because I’m taking a big risk in helping you. I could have given Safina your head. But I’m trusting you. I need you to trust me.”

She glared at him, but eventually her blue eyes softened. “She’s a Patrean. I think. Not like the Fodders that guard the city, different. She can sense things through those she’s touched. That includes all of the sons and Patriarchs of the Great Houses. That’s where your leverage will come from.”

“Thank you.” Heath’s thoughts reeled with the applications for such a talent.

“So you say.” Lyta sniffed. “She can get you your vote. But only if we find her in time. So why in Ohan’s name are we still in Dessim?”

“I need to know what we’re up against,” Heath said. “This thing kicked your ass, and I’m guessing that’s not an easy thing to do. I’m powerful with the elements, but I need to know everything about these chimeras so I can make a plan. Particularly, I need to know if they’re vulnerable to lightning. The Inquisition might have records.”

“Might?” Lyta challenged.

“Might,” Heath reiterated. “If not lightning, maybe they have another weakness. Going in blind is stupid.” He hated the idea of going to the Inquisition as much as she did, but Maddox and Sword hadn’t returned to their apartments in Freedom House. It wasn’t like Sword to run out in a huff, but he was becoming more like Maddox with each passing day.

Heath briefed her on what to expect as they went to an unassuming storefront with a dilapidated shingle hanging over the door. It was the Inquisition safehouse, hidden in plain sight by being as uninteresting as possible. The bell over the door rang as they stepped inside a small room. Tables covered in old books littered the crowded space.

His worst fears were realized when he saw a dark-skinned woman in a black cloak step down from a ladder next to a bookshelf. Daphne turned and flashed him a wan smile. “Heath. You survived.”

Heath shut the door behind him. “I don’t want a fight.”

“Too bad,” she said, tracing the scars on her face. “Who’s your pretty little friend?”

“I’m Lyta.”

Heath held up his hands. “We need your expertise. This is Inquisition business. We’re hunting a chimera.”

“Oh please,” Daphne spat. “You think you can walk in here and demand information? You lost that right when you swore yourself to the false god. You’re not doing Ohan’s work. You’re a monstrosity.”

“I haven’t killed you,” Heath said. “And I’d be well within my rights given the present you left me after our last encounter. I need to consult the bestiary. We can fight later.”

Daphne reached toward her belt and pulled out a long silvery chain of spiked abraevium from a hidden fold in her fabric. The flexible metal slid out easily and formed wicked spiked lengths of chain, which Daphne took in each hand and whirled lazily. “Sorry, not interested.”

Heath shrugged. “Lyta, now’s your chance to show me what you’ve got.” He didn’t like his chances in a fair fight with his nausea churning in his stomach.

Lyta charged into action. Daphne fell back on her heel and whirled her chain above her head, ready to strike. Lyta ran toward a table, grabbed it by the edge, and flung it forward. The legs of the table tumbled in the air as books and loose pages rained to the ground. Daphne’s eyes went wide with shock as she rolled out of the way. The table exploded into bits of wood when it crashed into the bookshelf.

“What in the five hells?” Daphne exclaimed as she popped up behind another table. Her eyes glanced between Heath and Lyta, who was still breathing calmly.

“I remember when you were the one who told me there’s always an alternative to senseless violence,” Heath said calmly.

Lyta picked up a pair of books and hurled them at Daphne. She twisted her body to avoid one, but the other tagged her in the hip and knocked her against a table. She gasped for breath, her eyes hot with rage.

Light flowed from her body, forming translucent golden plate armor. She picked herself up and walked toward Lyta. Lyta hurled more books, but Daphne batted them out of the air with her chain until she was in striking distance. The books burst into showers of loose pages and torn confetti.

Heath leaned against the wall and watched. He knew some of Lyta’s capabilities through the reports Safina had sent over. Seeing Lyta in action was something else entirely. She had no skill or training, but she was
strong
.

Daphne lashed out with her chain, and Lyta simply let it snare her arm. She didn’t even flinch. With a quick tug, she dragged Daphne forward and punched her in the chest. The solar armor cracked and flickered out. Daphne fell to her knees, hands clutching her breast.

Lyta grabbed Daphne’s throat and lifted her in the air. She brought out her springblades and slashed at Lyta’s throat, but the cuts healed almost as soon as they were drawn.

Lyta said, “Stop embarrassing yourself.”

Daphne gasped for breath. “I underestimated you.”

“Impressive, isn’t she?” Heath said with genuine admiration. He was ready to step in, but it didn’t seem necessary. Lyta could take out an army. That made him even more concerned about the monster they faced.

Grabbing Lyta’s wrists, Daphne boosted herself enough so she could breathe. “Where did you find her?”

Lyta threw Daphne down on a table, shattering it in half. Lyta placed a foot on Daphne’s chest and pressed, causing her ribs to crack audibly. “Tell us what we want to know.”

Daphne winced and chuckled. “There’s nothing in the lore here that will help you. But I know things.”

Heath folded his arms. “I hate that it’s come to this between us. You taught me everything I know. You saved my life in Rivern. That’s not a debt I forget lightly. Work with me on this, and I’ll let you live long enough to plan your revenge. But truth be told, you won’t need to.”

She looked at him quizzically.

Heath admitted, “I’m dying. The same thing my mother had. Kondole blessed me with new eyes, but this cancer is still eating away at me. My Light is fading, and the treatments aren’t working. Feel it for yourself.” He walked over and bent down to grab her hand.

He felt her warm Light probe his body.

She let go. “It’s true.”

“See? I’ll be dead in a year or two either way.” Heath forced a smile. “After the things I’ve done, Ohan knows I deserve it. Just let me do one thing right before I’m too sick to do anything. A young girl’s life hangs in the balance.”

Daphne’s eyes seemed wet with tears. “It gives me no pleasure to know this, Heath. Killing you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It’s probably why I didn’t try that hard.”

“I know. And I forgive you,” he said, gently brushing her scarred cheek.

She closed her eyes. “A chimera’s vulnerability depends on the constituent organisms. How large is it?”

Lyta said, “At least as big as three men, and it has three heads.”

Daphne smacked her lips. “Then it probably has redundant organs: multiple hearts, separate brains, a matrix of spines. There’s no single point of weakness. Don’t bother with poison or physical trauma. It’s probably got some theurgy as well. You have to attack the system as a whole. Fire is your best bet.”

“What about lightning?” Heath asked.

“Maybe,” she said, coughing blood. “They’re rare, and we don’t have any records of them being hit with lightning. It’s not a tool the Inquisition has much access to. Provided they aren’t immune, electrocution might cause enough damage to kill one. Depending on the strength of the shock.”

“Anything else?”

Daphne groaned. “No. You can kill me now.”

For a while Heath said nothing. He finally said, “I don’t want to do that.”

“If you don’t,” Daphne laughed to herself, “I will fulfill my crusade. You don’t have a choice.”

“We all have choices. Even you.”

She shook her head. “Always the conciliator. If I taught you anything, it’s that life is about hard choices. Sometimes there isn’t a middle ground.”

He bent down to kiss her forehead and whispered in her ear, “By sparing your life, any debt I owed to you is paid in full. If I see you again, I will strike you down without hesitation, pity, or remorse.”

“Likewise.”

Heath stood and motioned for Lyta to follow. “Come on. We need to get to Baash before sunset.”

T
WENTY-
T
WO

Blood Magic

H
EATH

Each of the Thirteen Seals is referred to by three titles: the Guide who bears the seal, the formal Archean name, and one or more informal sobriquets depending on the college. It is customary to use the informal when dealing with laymen and the formal Archean in written academic works. The Guides’ names are rarely used unless referencing technical aspects of the diagram or in codices.

Thus the ‘Seal of Ardiel’ is the same as the ‘Momentum Seal,’ more commonly known as the ‘Seal of Movement’ or ‘Invisible Hand.’ Invisible Hand is an example of a poetic sobriquet versus ‘movement,’ which is a utilitarian descriptor. Modern usage favors the utilitarian for the informal.

There are exceptions. The Vitae Seal is rarely called the Seal of Life, given its prestige. The Veritas and Oculus Seals likewise retain their Archean names in common usage: the Veritas Seal as a well-known part of the judicial system and the Oculus Seal to avoid confusion with the unrelated disciplines of Sight and Vision. The Ego Seal also takes the Archean form by default since it is the same word in both languages.

The naming convention can be confusing, and new informal terms crop up among younger scholars. (I once overheard a group of students refer to the Seal of Pyrael as ‘The Face Melter.’ Indeed!) Though there are far more than thirteen
names
for the seals, there are only thirteen seals.

—
DEAN TERTIUS OF THE LYCEUM
. GLYPHOMANCY FOR THE FEEBLEMINDED,
A PRIMER ON SEAL MAGIC

THE DRAWING ROOM
at the Magesterium was an open space at the crown of the main tower. Arches looked out over the city, but the top was covered. Heavy lacquered chain curtains could be drawn shut to keep out the elements. The inscribing circle was massive, made of colored inlaid marble, to contrast with the white. Maddox studied a codex as he sat cross-legged on the floor. He was shirtless, exposing his wiry chest and two seals: one gold, the other black.

He felt his craving for alcohol like a tingling in his lips, but the last time he had inscribed a seal while drunk, he nearly killed himself. His was the only recorded instance of a mistranscribed Seal of Vitae making anyone immortal, at least since the Harrowers cleaned house during the Long Night. It kept him alive and nourished, but it did not prevent his gnawing cravings.