Aegis of The Gods: Book 02 - Ashes and Blood (26 page)

C
hapter 40

“W
e should have gone down to the common room.” Mirza took another sip from his mug. All that remained on his plate was a sizable flatbread. “It’s a good way to start the morning, admiring the Stoneman’s girls.”

“I’d expect that from Danvir, not you.” At the room’s large mahogany table, Ancel licked sauce from his fingers, savoring the tangy flavor and scent of boiled eggs mixed with creamy, diced potatoes.

A bone cracked where Charra was worrying at a haunch almost devoid of meat. Golden lances of sunlight shone through the slits in the half-open shutters and space in the curtains, illuminating the marble floors. Wood in the hearth crackled, but the fresh air eased the room’s heat.

“What do you mean?” Mirza asked.

“It isn’t such a smart idea.” Ancel was doing his best to be modest.

Mirza paused with the mug to his lips and glanced at him askance.

“Think on it, as you and Dan like to say. The trackers and Pathfinders were already here. If we go into the common room, it’s likely that someone will put faces to names as Ewald did. All it will take is one eagle, and they’re back here again.”

Mirza offered a half-hearted grumble before he sipped his tea again. The old Mirza would have spoken his mind regardless.

“You know, you’ve been acting strange ever since the Entosis.” Ancel stared directly at his friend hoping Mirza would meet his gaze.

“What makes you say that?” Mirza avoided looking his way.

“We grew up together, Mirz. I know you as well as I know myself.”

“That’s debatable.”

Ancel smiled. The quip was a little of the Mirza he enjoyed being around. “Anyway, as I was saying, you’ve been acting strangely toward me. Every conversation with you feels like I’m pulling teeth. You act as if you can’t joke with me anymore. Some days when I catch you looking at me, it’s as if you’re seeing someone else.”

Silence stretched between them broken by the crunching of bones. The clang of smiths at work and the buzz of a busy town awaking floated upon a breeze that rattled the shutters and whispered its secrets to the curtains whose fabric swished an answer.

Mirza let out a protracted breath, his chest sinking in as he shook his head. Finally, his and Ancel’s eyes made four. “Since the … that place, I do see someone else.”

“I’m me, Mirz, the same Ancel you’ve always known.”

“Are you?”

“Well … yes … just a bit stronger.”

A smile creased Mirza’s lips. “See, that’s another thing. Somewhere since all this happened, you learned to be humble. Just a bit stronger.” He shook his head again and made a sound in the back of his throat. “We walked into a place in the middle of winter, and inside, it was summer. There were creatures I have dreamed of and others I never knew existed.

“Ancel, you flung fire and lightning, created shields from the earth, and moved faster than humanly possible. I think the only thing I didn’t see you do was shoot lightning out your ass. Although you got trashed most of the times, there was the odd moment or two where you held your own against some giant that taught you. Wait. No. Not just a giant. According to Galiana, the spirit of an Eztezian.

“You summoned a creature I can’t begin to describe. Something we would have read about in books or our mothers would have told stories about. And you walk and talk as if it’s nothing. So does Ryne and Galiana.” He pointed at Ancel’s right arm. “You have enough of those now to rival Ryne.” His eyes shifted to Charra. “Not even he’s normal. So tell me how you expected me to act. Seriously. You know what? Let me ask now, before I lose my nerve. Exactly what in Ilumni’s name are you?”

Ancel felt his eyebrows bolt up his forehead. His friend’s words were a little more than he’d bargained for. “I’m an Eztezian.” For the first time, as if saying the words had some added impact, he believed.

“So you’re a god.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mirz, Eztezians aren’t gods.”

“Might as well be. All things considered though, I’m handling this pretty well. Danvir probably would have bawled like he did back in Randane.”

Ancel couldn’t help but chuckle. For whatever reason, Mirza appeared more relieved than anything with his admission. “Now that you know, can you please stop acting as if I’m going to eat you?”

“I’d taste disgusting anyway, but I’ll think about it.”

The crunching of bones stopped. Massive head raised, Charra glanced toward the door before he returned to his meal.

“It’s Ryne,” Ancel said to Mirza’s unspoken question.

As he finished the words, Ryne, with Galiana close on his heels, pushed open the door and entered. His expression was grim. Galiana’s face was a reflection of his.

Ancel shoved his plate away. “What is it?”

“Trouble.” Galiana shuffled toward the window and pulled the curtains closed.

Mirza groaned. “Just when I was beginning to relax.”

“We need to leave right away,” Ryne said.

“What about supplies?” Ancel asked.

“No time. The zyphyls are awake.”

“And that means …?”

“This is the second time I heard you mention a zyphyl,” Mirza said. “And we have no clue what they are.”

“You tell them.” Ryne inclined his head toward Galiana. “You two get dressed while she talks.”

Galiana took a seat at the edge of a bed. “During the Shadowbearer War, we faced a crisis. The Travelshafts, which we used for fast transport between all major cities, were not only being raided by the Svenzar, but were used by the shade’s armies as well.”

“Why didn’t you close them?” Mirza was pulling on a new set of wool trousers the serving girl had delivered with the food.

“We did not know how. The Svenzar built them, and they never shared their secrets. So, we had to decide on a solution. Upon construction, one of the original issues with the Travelshafts was that they could not be used to traverse large bodies of water like the sea. It was something to do with the shafts being of the Forms, and therefore in direct opposition to the Flows. Anyway, one of The Custodians within the Iluminus’ Great Library found a solution in one of the Chronicles: a creature balanced between the essences and elements. It was more myth than anything, but so many of the Chronicles proved true, how could we not follow this one?”

“You were desperate,” Mirza said with a snort.

Galiana glared at him. “Several expeditions ventured into Everland’s northernmost wastes as suggested, and there we found the zyphyls by the hundreds. Afterward, we placed one at the doorways to the shafts connecting Felan Mark with Damal’s Landing, making it possible to cross the Sea of Swirls without a ship. We then added more zyphyls to a few cities farther inland in both Ostania and Granadia.

“As the Shadowbearer War progressed, we realized we needed to prevent travel between the continents should Nerian’s armies breach the Vallum. However, the zyphyls were quite volatile and their use had other side effects, which later led us to abandon them. We experimented with putting them to sleep. They still worked as intended. At the same time, we discovered shadelings had used several shafts in cities they captured to cross the Vallum of Light.”

“Wait,” Ancel said, “did the shadelings use the shafts with the zyphyls or without?” The shirt he pulled on fit a little tight, but it was better than the stench of his old clothes.

“Both. But for reasons we still do not understand, they and the Svenzar could only use those where either we had placed none of the creatures or we had kept them awake. Further research showed sleep triggers something within the creatures to change its balance and prevent the passage of shade. Later, we found the Svenzar fear the zyphyl more when they are dormant.”

Ancel felt his heart begin to race with his understanding. “By waking them, someone gave passage to the shade,” he whispered.

Mirza had stopped dressing. “Is that how they got into Eldanhill?”

“Yes,” Ryne answered, “but that is not all. Although they do not normally interfere with the affairs of men, the Svenzar have no love for the Tribunal. From what we learned, they have once again begun to raid any Travelshaft the Tribunal’s Ashishin are using.”

“Wait,” Ancel said, “you mentioned the Tribunal had abandoned the shafts.”

“Until recently, yes. I can only guess it was for one of their plots. I first got word the Svenzar were here last year before you left for Randane,” Galiana said. “I wondered why, and now I believe I know. They are not only trying to stop us but also the shade’s armies.”

“What do we do?” Fully clothed in wool and leathers, Mirza did make for an imposing figure, his flame-colored hair spilling down his shoulders. He strode toward where his scythe leaned on a wall.

“We leave immediately.” Galiana stood. “As of right now, there are guards assigned to each Travelshaft. They will be enough of a warning. We must reach Calisto as soon as possible before we head to Torandil.”

A low growled issued from Charra. The door burst open. Ancel had his hand on his sword before he realized it was Gebbert, his chest laboring with exertion. Dressed in brigandine the color of blood, with hardened leather spaulders to protect the shoulders and upper arms, vambraces at the forearms, and greaves to match, he looked like a different man.

“Shin Galiana,” the innkeeper huffed. “High Shin Cantor is here with his Pathfinders.”

Ancel closed his eyes against the rising sense of panic within him. Maybe he should have done as Mirza said and gone to the common room. A last pleasure. Whatever was going to happen, he was convinced none of it would be good. Gebbert’s uniform said as much.

“Where is he? Galiana appeared oddly calm.

“At the Travelshaft,” Gebbert said. “The others have already assembled.”

She looked him up and down, taking in his uniform, and then nodded her approval. “Good. Thank you, Master Gebbert, we shall be along shortly.”

The innkeeper bobbed his head several times, turned on his heels, and left.

“Um ...” Eyebrows raised, Mirza pursed his lips. “Shouldn’t we be looking to escape somehow?”

“No need. I expected this.”

“You expected us to be captured?” Ancel said in disbelief.

Galiana gave that knowing smile of hers. “Who mentioned anything about being captured?”

Relief washed through Ancel before it faded, quickly becoming apprehension. “Wait, you don’t expect us to fight them, do you?” It wasn’t that he lacked confidence in his new power, but these weren’t shadelings they would face. These were Matii with years more experience in Forging, whether in practice or actual battles. He didn’t even want to consider the Pathfinders who specialized in hunting other Matii.

“From the look on her face, she’s about to say she didn’t suggest fighting them either,” Mirza said under his breath. “Ashishin,” he added with a slow shake of his head and a smirk.

“Don’t be presumptuous, Mirza, even if you’re right.”

Mirza made to speak but Galiana arched an eyebrow. The words remained unspoken.

“So what are we going to do?” Ancel tried his best to squeeze his fear into a tiny knot in his belly. “If they take us, there’s no telling what the Tribunal will do. You know as well as I do—” He stopped himself. He had little reason not to trust Galiana’s judgment. She hadn’t failed them thus far, and she wouldn’t now. Whatever happened, she had a solution.

“Good.” Galiana smiled confidently as if reading his mind. “Let’s pay the High Shin and his Pathfinders a visit, shall we?” As she gestured toward the door, she added, “Do not forget your weapons.”

C
hapter 41

U
ncertainty inched its way into Galiana with each step. After today, she was embarking on a road that might result in the world’s end. Well, they had to start somewhere.

Outside the Stoneman, Harval was surprisingly quiet. No smithies claimed the air with their weapon making. The wind swirled, its gusts swishing before becoming howls as it swept by the dark holes for windows in the cliff-face edifices. Each yawned empty and uninviting.

The sun bled gold and red into the sky and its feathery clouds. Colors to match the Dagodin filing across the bridge ahead of them. The town’s lower levels were devoid of any other people. Wherever the children lived in Harval, they remained indoors.

She led the way across the bridge and onto a short stretch carved between two buildings. The path was surprisingly empty of snow and slush. It ended at a wall, which became a fifteen-foot wide trail carved into the cliff itself and protected by an overhang that followed its length. In single file the others stretched behind her with Mirza first, then Ancel, Charra, and Ryne.

They traveled several hundred feet up, the town sprawling under them. If not for her knowledge, Galiana would have sworn the formations below were natural and not manmade. The bridges so much matched the ground, it was near impossible to tell them apart. When they gained the summit, a windswept, rock-strewn plateau spread ahead of them. Beyond that, the mountain continued to rise in stone and ice.

Dagodin and Pupae formed ranks on the plateau. Whereas the Dagodin sported their traditional garb, the Pupae wore various colors under their short cloaks and were separated by hue. Cool, diaphanous white, flaming orange, and yellow dominated. Of lesser note were sky blue, brown, robes of a shimmery material, green, and a deep blue that would match the sea. Each color represented an essence. At their head were at least two dozen crimson-garbed Ashishin. She ignored them and focused on the man and soldiers at the formation’s center.

In gray robes that only seemed to enhance how broad of back and shoulder he was, High Shin Cantor stood with an imperious air. He had neither cloak nor jacket. Ten bands of color made rings around his long sleeves in stark contrast to the obsidian skin of his pockmarked face. He displayed as much emotion as the silent mountain behind him.

Although High Shin Cantor appeared intimidating, the soldiers arrayed in perfect symmetry behind him could give anyone the chills. Except her. Silver armor reflecting the rising sun, each bore a sheathed sword at their hip. Whether they were male or female was impossible to tell. They wore full plate helms with a slit in the shape of a T where their eyes and nose would be. Darkness resided in each slit.

“Stay here.” Galiana stepped forward. All her life she relied on deception and misdirection in her ploys, from the staff that she no longer used as she feigned weakness, to her taking on the role of a retired Matii of no importance. Not today. Today would be different. A flutter inched through her belly with the thought. She held her head up, kept her back straight, met High Shin Cantor’s eyes, and smiled.

She connected with her body heat. Once the warmth spread evenly across her body, she slid the long leather cloak from her shoulders. It fell to the ground that was absent of snow or ice. As to be expected of the roads leading to a Travelshaft, the surface under her feet was solid, smooth, and black, curving down to either side. Her white robes shimmered, sleeves reflecting a living rainbow of color.

A collective gasp issued from everyone in attendance. Almost as one, they bowed from the waist. Some went down on one knee. Even the High Shin and Pathfinders. She basked in the response.

Murmurs rippled through the gathered masses. Galiana picked out the word ‘Exalted’. She could imagine the questions running rampant through their minds.

A smile spread across the High Shin’s face until his teeth showed. “You are supposed to be dead.”

“Am I now?” She returned the smile in kind. Despite who she was or had been, she was glad Cantor did not use her old title of Exalted.

“Very much so.” High Shin Cantor gestured with his head toward Ancel and Ryne. “I suppose this is what all the fuss has been about?”

“Partially. I assume you spoke to Jerem?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” The pockmarks marring Cantor’s face were so deep they often hid the changes in his expression as they did now. “He has arranged for protection by some old friends from the Nevermore Heights.”

“Really? And they agreed?”

“He did not give me the details, but they said the sole reason for their presence is that they have a friend of theirs here also.”

Galiana frowned. The one person among them who the Svenzar might know would be Ryne. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Yes. Their leader said he will speak only to this friend. Until then, they forbid us the use of the Travelshaft, saying they will guard it against us and any others.”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Well if that is their requirement, we do not have much choice.”

Events had been set in motion since the day she sent word to the Listeners. Cantor’s presence meant Jerem had prepared. There was no retreat now. They would garner what support they could from the seeds they’d sown among the Tribunal’s councils to see where that led. But the first true sally in a war to the end, a war between gods, netherlings, shadelings and men was soon to begin. Galiana resisted the urge to hug herself.

“Walk with me,” she said, striding between and past the Pathfinders. The dark slits within their helms revealed nothing, but she was sure they saw everything. Cantor followed. When she was out of earshot, she asked, “How are things faring at the Iluminus?”

“Not well I’m afraid. The Exalted sent Qunitess and a few others from the Assembly, myself included, and Irmina, after you and your charges. We were about to attempt your capture when something attacked us. We failed. Irmina said she sensed daggerpaws by the hundreds outside the cave we hid inside.” He paused. “But I saw Quintess wounds. Neither hers nor my own were from any creature I know. In fact, I am positive it was some kind of Forging used against us. One we were unable to defend against. We lost Neftana, a few Pathfinders, and the trackers.”

Galiana’s heart skipped a beat. She’d hoped Charra hadn’t harmed them. There was no more time for uncertainty or changes to their plans; she needed to know the daggerpaw’s true nature. “How is Quintess?”

“Alive but suffering within the Iluminus. There isn’t much she can do. She claims to have found some person who can finish our cause there, one the Exalted will not suspect.”

Galiana shook her head. After all their planning, so much relied on chance. Quintess always made the best decisions. She could not see the High Jin failing now. “I trust that she will be fine.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Mirza and Ancel watched her every move. “You should come meet them. However, be warned, the young Eztezian more than likely fears you and the Pathfinders, while his best friend hates you with a passion.”

“Stories about Pathfinders can be moving things, I suppose,” Cantor said.

“That’s not all. You took the younger one’s mother.”

“Oh. Have you told them?”

She arched an eyebrow. “How do you keep a secret that big, Cantor?”

“You tell no one,” Cantor said with a wry smile.

“Exactly. Now come meet them. They can use some reassurance.”

“So you haven’t even hinted about what we,” Cantor gestured to himself and the Pathfinders behind him with an incredulous expression, “were created for?”

“You get to tell him.” With those words, Galiana turned and headed toward Ancel, knowing Cantor would follow. The clink of armor and thump of boots confirmed it.

Ancel’s eyes grew rounder as they approached. As for Mirza, he glared, eyes seeing through her, lips curling in a snarl. Ryne was expressionless, and Charra simply watched.

When High Shin Cantor stopped before Ancel, he gave a slight bow. The twenty Pathfinders formed a double file ring of shining steel. They placed gauntleted fists to their chests.

“Eztezian Ancel Dorn,” High Cantor said, his voice grave to match his face, “I present to you, your personal guard.”

The young man looked as if he would faint.

Galiana smiled.