A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (41 page)

“
Still, you have been an excellent employee, and such diligence and proficiency should be rewarded, should it not?
”
He drew a blank paper from a pile and dipped his pen in the inkwell, then furiously scribbled on the page, signing at the end with a flourish. Lifting the page to blow on the still wet ink, he reread what he had written. The page trembled in his hands, and a bead of sweat trickled down his brow. His breath came in short gasps… then a calm came over him. He blinked furiously, as if a bright light shone into his eyes.

“
Sir, if I may be so bold, are you well?
”
asked Renen.

Kesmon handed the paper to Renen.
“
Never better,
”
he said with a smile.
“
There, that should be sufficient. I’m going to need good people around me for the coming months.
”

“
Sir?
”

Kesmon waved a hand.
“
Never mind. Read it.
”

Renen moved his gaze to the paper. His mouth dropped open.

“
I… sir…I don’t know what to say. This is…
”

“
Uncharacteristic? Unexpected? Un… something?!
”
Kesmon snorted and took a mouthful from his mug.
“
It’s time to make a few changes around here, and to the way House Kesmon does business.
”
He coughed and cleared his throat, running a hand over his sweating brow.

He waved his empty mug for a refill. Renen’s hands shook as he poured the steaming drink from the pitcher.

On board the strange ship docked in the harbor, Bells and Keys sat in the captain’s cabin. They had commandeered it for the next few days whilst vital plans were carried out. Dressed in functional clothes, both could have passed through any district in Anasoma without raising an eyebrow from the populace, their clothes plain enough not to warrant much attention in Dockside, yet of sufficient quality for them to have walked through Parkside without drawing undue notice.

Keys yawned and rubbed bleary eyes. They’d worked hard since arriving and had slept little, and would soon have to leave to meet the other ships.

Smiling, Bells handed him a mug of tea from a table next to her.
He’s drained himself with all we’ve had to do.
He was not as strong as she was. Since they were children he’s been the weaker one.

Keys gulped the brew, cursing as it scalded his mouth, but drained the mug.

“
Bells, it has started.
”

She nodded, dark hair tinkling.
“
Yes, Keys, my love. It has.
”
Praise the God-Emperor, may he live forever.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Timing was crucial. Timing and preparation were everything. This, Amerdan Lephar understood. He knew it in his bones, a knowledge that came to him as easily as breathing.

Night had fallen. Heart racing, he locked and barred the shop door. His hands trembled, and he clenched his fists hard a few times to calm down.

Running his eyes over the shop, he nodded, satisfied the place was uncontaminated. But he knew the dirt would come inside to spoil his peace. It always did.

Outside in his yard, he stripped off his dirty clothes and scrubbed himself clean using a rough brush and water from the well. He stood in the cold night air until his skin dried then put on clean, fresh clothes, fine woven pants and shirt, dyed a deep stain of not quite black. He lingered over the process, each item of clothing he donned akin to revealing himself, rather than covering.

His pigs grunted and nuzzled the pen. They were hungry since he hadn’t fed them in a few days. They needed to be prepared for later, as everything did.

“
Tonight,
”
he whispered to them in the dark.
“
Don’t worry.
”

Returning to the shop, he took a long drink from a jug of water. His mouth and throat were dry from all the cleaning; both the shop and his workroom had to be perfect. With a final look around the room, he nodded, satisfied all was in order. He reached up and removed the rag doll from its shelf, cradling it in both hands, where its bead eyes stared deeply into his.

“
Are you ready?
”
he whispered to the rag doll.

It nodded at him and he smiled, stroking its head.

“
Good,
”
he said, pleased.
“
It’s time.
”

He walked to the back room, where behind a wall hanging stood a sturdy oak door, locked and barred. Amerdan lifted the bar and opened the lock with an iron key from his pocket. It had been made by one of the best locksmiths in the city, and Amerdan kept it oiled and in good condition, as he did all his tools.

By the door were a flat leather satchel and a metal lamp. He picked both up then closed the lamp’s hood, leaving the room in darkness. He opened the door, which swung towards him, making no sound on its heavily oiled hinges.

Amerdan and his rag doll descended into his cellar in silence. Exactly seventeen steps down, they turned right and continued. Three steps further was another door. He slipped the latch with one finger and pulled. Again, the door slid open silently.

Amerdan stood still for a few minutes, breathing in the atmosphere of the room. Warm and humid. Fragrant with sweat and urine, and fear. The air was… bliss. He remained unmoving, letting it surround and cover him, soaking up the flavors, savoring their essence. The air was alive with promise. He would be transformed again, like so many other times. Goose bumps rose on his arms.

A groan came from ahead of him. Metal rattled on metal, disturbing his serenity.

Another few steps into the room, his shoes scraped on stone. At the sound, there was movement, invisible in the blackness but indicated by the clinking of chains accompanied by muffled whimpering.

Amerdan placed the lamp on the floor and opened the hood, allowing a glimmer of light to peel away a layer of darkness.

Limbs strained against the iron manacles surrounding ankles and wrists. Short chains attached the manacles to a thick wooden table, slick with perspiration. It writhed there in the dim light, straining against the iron which held it captive. Wide, white, scared eyes stared at him. A strangled groan escaped lips and throat desert dry after two days without water. Teeth gleamed from bared gums.

Amerdan watched, absorbed, ignoring the moans, clinks and slap of flesh on wood. So futile, the thing’s struggles.

White hairless body, thin sticklike limbs. Dark patches at groin and armpits. It resembled a man, but Amerdan knew it wasn’t.

The thing’s tongue thrust out, a swollen purple chunk of meat, running across its lips in a vain attempt to moisten them.

“
Hnnnnn,
”
the thing moaned.

Amerdan frowned. This wouldn’t do at all. A few squirts from a waterskin into its mouth elicited more squirming as it gulped greedily, tongue moving around its mouth.

It breathed heavily, gasping in relief.

“
Puh… please,
”
it managed and swallowed.
“
Why… are… you… doing… this?
”

Amerdan stayed quiet. Watching. Savoring its fear.

The thing started weeping, useless as it was. They always did after he caught them. It spat at him with whatever it could dredge up. Spittle flew wide of the mark and hit the floor with a splat.

Amerdan didn’t like messes.
“
Not nice,
”
he whispered.

“
Please,
”
the thing repeated.
“
My master… will come looking for me… He’ll find you.
”
It stopped for a moment to regain strength.
“
He’ll kill you… for this outrage. And I’ll see… you burn.
”

“
Hush. You don’t know the truth of things. Lesser creatures seldom realize their limitations. It’s what makes them… insignificant.
”

Its mouth closed, and nostrils flared as its lungs sucked in air, still breathing heavily. Amerdan moved to a side table where he lay his flat leather satchel. Beside it he placed his rag doll, leaning it against the wall where it could survey the room. He ran a hand in a caress over the leather satchel then flipped it open. Bright metal flashed in the lamp’s soft light. The thing tensed, whimpered.

“
My master… the Sorcerers’ Guild… they’ll find you. You can’t hide from them.
”

Amerdan drew out a long, thin blade and held it to the light, checking for imperfections. A habit. He knew there would be none; he took great care with his implements.

The thing, apprentice to High Magus Rhithik and vessel for Amerdan, threw itself against its bonds, straining to find some weakness, some leverage to break them. Amerdan didn’t move while the struggle persisted. Eventually, it stopped, and hoarse panting echoed in the room.

“
Why?
”
it rasped.

Amerdan turned, blade held in one hand.
“
Why?
”
he replied, toneless and uninterested. Always, the vessels had the same questions, unimaginative and unintelligent. And this thing was supposedly a great mind, an apprenticed sorcerer, no less. He shook his head. Talents and abilities wasted on useless constructs of flesh and bone. They were undeserving, and ultimately their weakness held them back from greatness. They could not rise above their base desires and transform themselves, as he had.

He removed his shirt and dropped it on the floor, then ran his hands over his chiseled torso, crisscrossed with scars. A reminder of his awakening.

His
trinket
hung around his neck, where it glowed brighter than the light from the lamp.

So unintelligent, these things were, so ordinary. Unaware around them walked wolves, and they were sheep. Moving as if their actions had meaning, as if they were the ones in control, could influence the course of their own unimaginative drudgery of an existence.

“
I was born much like you. Ignorant and unaware. Oblivious to my flaws and to the flaws of those around me. My upbringing was… harsh.
”
He looked the thing in the eye.
“
I was tested, scourged, until I was made anew. Forged into something else. Something stronger. Greater.
”

The thing trembled. Sweat dripped from its pores. It mewled through clenched lips.

“
And by chance.
”
Amerdan paused for a moment.
“
Or was it? Was it shown to me?
”
He blinked in confusion.
“
I discovered myself through my first ordeal.
”

In the blink of an eye, he leapt astride the thing on the table. It gasped at his speed and strength. Knees gripped its sides tight, and its eyes followed the trail of the shining knife, which swam in front of its face. A firm quick slice and the knife withdrew. The vessel screamed. Hot red blood dripped from the wound on its forehead.

Amerdan wiped his hand on the cut, smearing sticky crimson wetness on his palm. He gripped the spherical
trinket
around his throat tight with the blood-smeared hand.

Only the sound of the vessel’s harsh breath pierced the silence.

It knew what was coming. In the end they all did.

His hand around the
trinket
glowed red, then orange, then yellow, as a bright light emanated from the pendant and shone through his flesh.

“
Please,
”
the thing sniveled.
“
What’s happ…
”

Its breath was cut off as Amerdan dropped the knife and clamped its throat shut. Brutal strength squeezed and cartilage cracked.

“
Hush. You are a vessel, and I shall partake of you. You will become part of someone greater than you can imagine.
”

The need filled Amerdan, sending a shiver down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin; hairs stood on end.

Shining through the confines of flesh and bone, the light became brighter.

The vessel groaned wordlessly, an internal howl colored by pain and loss. A faint radiance rose from its skin, growing stronger each passing moment. A thread of glittering white light reached from Amerdan’s glowing hand to the vessel. It grew slowly to a cord the thickness of a thumb. Pulses traveled up the cord from the vessel to the
trinket
, where they were absorbed. Amerdan’s eyes squeezed tight, leaking tears.

The skin covering the vessel turned gray then shrunk and cracked as if leeched of vitality. With a convulsive shudder, Amerdan shrieked as the cord vanished, leaving the room dim, shadows flickering from the lamp.

He collapsed on top of the desiccated thing, panting. He lay still, regaining strength.

He levered himself to a kneeling position, the gray shrunken corpse between his knees.

Amerdan laughed, the full throaty relieved laugh of someone who was alive after a trial they hadn’t expected to survive.

He looked towards the rag doll, wiping tears from his eyes and cheeks.
“
We endure, again.
”

In the flickering light, the rag doll winked at him. He laughed again, pleased.

With a roar, he threw his head back and shouted to the heavens through the stone above him, muscles on his arms and torso veined and bulging, strained to their limit, shiny with sweat.

“
Again I suffer and survive!
”
he yelled.
“
Again I drink and receive what I require.
”
His arms stretched to the ceiling, one dripping a scarlet ribbon of blood.

“
I am bound.
”
His heart pumped wildly in his chest.

“
I am shriven.
”

“
I am unrivalled.
”
He dropped his arms and gaze to the gray corpse.

“
I am many…I am transformed,
”
he gasped, exhausted.

From the table, sitting in shadows, the rag doll stared at him.

Later in the night, Amerdan emerged from his dark cellar, the body of the apprentice flopped lifelessly over one shoulder. Whistling tunelessly, he locked the door that led to his hidden room and replaced the wall hanging.

He stood in the yard and looked up into the night sky. Moonlight shone upon his face, and he imagined he could feel its luminous power infuse him. A fancy, he knew, nothing more. There was only one way to take in power that he knew. And only the talented were worthy to make a sacrifice of themselves for his purpose.

There were not many he felt were worthy enough to transfer to him.

He stopped at the pig sty. Snuffles and grunts greeted him.

He shouldered the lifeless corpse into the pen then turned and walked back inside. Excited squeals and tearing sounds followed him.