Mythborn (10 page)

He breathed in, knowing his life now hung in the balance of what he did next. If she did not feel he was truly aligned with her, he would not leave this castle alive. Lilyth would not chance his interference, so he played the only hand he’d been dealt. She was right, when survival was at stake, he could be exceedingly clever. He nodded slowly and said, “I’ll find a way to get to Valarius.”

Lilyth smiled and nodded back, “I have every confidence you will. And what will you do when you see him again?”

His pale eyes met her own deep blue ones, and a sardonic smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he answered, “I suppose everyone will get what they want.”

Training

Traitorous doubt, ever victorious over us

‘ere we give our task true attempt

-
          
Rai’kesh, The Lens of Leadership

L
ower!” Giridian shouted, his eyes never leaving Tomas’s stance. “When you’re comfortable, you’re vulnerable.” The boy took that moment to shake out his legs and reposition himself, which only caused the master to roll his eyes in frustration. What part of “comfortable” and “vulnerable” did he not understand?

Grabbing a thin rod the lore father moved in closer, striking the back of Tomas’s thigh with a painful
thwack
. “Get down!”

“Oww!” cried the boy, grabbing his hamstring and hopping out of reach of the rod.

The lore father moved in quickly, striking two more times to the other leg and arm, then upending his student onto his back. Tomas’s breath burst out with a
whoosh
as he slammed into the ground.

“What’s the matter with you?” Giridian demanded, poking him in the chest. He knew the boy was unharmed, and except for a bruised ego, no worse for the wear. “You’re acting like a White, mewling at pain and looking for breaks.”

Tomas looked away, and Giridian could sense fear and shame in the boy’s thoughts. Using that as a clue, he offered him a hand up, then pushed him back onto a waiting stool. “What’s going on?”

Tomas looked up, but not directly at the lore father, and one could see he did not have the confidence to meet his teacher’s gaze. “Nothing, Master.”

“Nothing?” Giridian looked away and then back, crouching so he was eye to eye with his student. “You’re distracted and fearful. You weren’t like this before, so I ask again. What’s going on? Answer me truthfully.”

The boy struggled with something, finally blurting, “They killed them right here and even the lore father couldn’t stop them!”

The assassins who had infiltrated and killed Thera and her students had left a lasting mark on the Isle. None had escaped unscathed from their attack, least of all Tomas. Giridian took a deep breath, then said, “You must remain focused. While this world allows for distractions, your upcoming Test doesn’t. You must redouble your efforts for we need another Adept to join our ranks.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Giridian clapped the initiate on one burly shoulder. “You’re ready.”

“How do you know? Initiates fail all the time!” said the student, looking down at the ground.

“Tomas, you know everything you need to know. If there were an easier way than practice, I would be the first to show you, but there are no secrets or shortcuts. Training is the only way to pass the Test, and I cannot say more. Now,
focus
.” He raised the boy’s head up and met his gaze with a reassuring smile. “Believe in yourself.”

Tomas’s expression screwed up, his brows knitting over eyes squeezed shut. It was as if the boy was trying to forget a memory. Then the initiate rubbed a hand over this face and released a held breath. He was not going to let his master down, it seemed. Tomas turned to Giridian and nodded, saying, “Let me try again, Master.”

Giridian gave the boy a reassuring shake and stepped back, grabbing his stool and retreating to one side of the training area. There was so much work to do, yet it was in these moments that he felt he was accomplishing the most. He put the stool down and then sat heavily, signaling Tomas to begin.

The boy began with the ceremonial bow, but quickly leapt into his kata, his strikes precise and his stance strong. As the boy wheeled and struck, fighting imaginary opponents as he practiced how to execute perfection, Giridian listened to his rhythm and breathing. Any mistake the boy made would first manifest itself there. As he watched with one eye, his mind wandered, thinking through the many things they’d faced already.

It had been a few days since Dragor’s departure with Jesyn. The two Adepts would have made the coast by now, yet Giridian had not yet heard from them. While that wasn’t worrisome in and of itself, the idea of them facing those same assassins who had attacked the Isle did. Despite their prowess, Jesyn was untested as an Adept, and Dragor was young himself. Neither had the power or experience of Silbane or Kisan.

“Impressive.”

Giridian started at the voice to his right, and was more surprised when Thoth appeared, materializing out of thin air. He began to get up but the Keeper motioned for him to stay seated.

“Only you can see or hear me, Lore Father. How goes the training?” The Keeper’s eyes seemed to assess Tomas quickly, before looking back to Giridian again.

Giridian paused halfway up, then reseated himself and shrugged. “One cannot rush the day.”

“Poetic, but we both know this one must pass. Our ranks grow thin.”

Tomas whirled, striking out at unseen opponents. He executed a perfect flip over one and then jumped, spin-kicking another. His foot contacted the palm of his hand with a sound like a whip cracking before he landed without a bounce, his stance rock solid.

When Giridian didn’t answer, Thoth raised a hand and the scene slowed. Tomas had begun his jump, and now hung frozen in the air, pirouetting around imaginary foes as he reversed himself to strike something behind him. The entire world, it seemed, waited on Thoth’s next breath.

Giridian hung his head and asked, “Why? Answer me plainly or I won’t help. I can’t take more ambiguity.”

Thoth seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “I have been excruciatingly honest with you, Lore Father. Why do our ranks grow thin? Because less and less of you prove worthy of Ascension, leaving more unbonded Aeris trapped in Lilyth’s realm. They are of little use there when the fight against Sovereign will be here, on Edyn. Some even lose hope and join the Lady’s ranks.”

Giridian sighed. This was not the first time he and Thoth had spoken since their first encounter in the Vaults. The Keeper had kept true to his word and whenever new information had been discovered, he had shared it openly, though Giridian questioned the Keeper’s timing when revealing important facts.

Oh, he’d been correct that Arek needed to die but what had not been clear at that time was that Arek needed to die
here
, on Edyn. The fact that the boy had escaped to Lilyth’s realm meant dire consequences for everyone involved. If the boy was killed there, it would destroy the Aeris and leave Sovereign unchecked. Frustratingly, his inability to contact Kisan and amend her orders further complicated things.

Did that make the demon-queen and her armies allies of Edyn? Perhaps for a time, but Lilyth had no intention of rescuing his world. She meant to rule through possession and would see herself placed on the throne of both worlds. So a delicate balance had to be maintained, one where Lilyth could keep Sovereign in check, and Giridian’s Council and Thoth could keep Lilyth in check. Key to this, according to Thoth, were more Adepts able to take the fight to either realm.

The Lore Father’s head swam whenever he sat back to think about it. His mind was clearly not made for the complicated web being drawn between worlds. He preferred the straight fight, not these behind-the-scenes maneuverings. He had not appreciated Themun’s machinations, and appreciated it even less with Thoth. What he did know was training students, and when he cast a critical eye at Tomas, he could not lie to the Keeper.

“The boy is not ready. He doubts every step, which comes as no surprise. He saw his friend killed then the Isle attacked and the greatest of us felled by assassins.” He knew Thoth understood he meant Themun, and even now he could not bring himself to fully believe the lore father was gone.

“He will gain confidence,” said the Keeper. He took a moment to look at the boy before saying, “It will take effort but you are up to the task.”

“He
doubts
… do you understand that will kill him?

“We have no other option.”

“We can delay—”

“We have no other option!” shouted the Keeper, turning on Giridian. He caught himself, his chagrined expression mixed with shame and worry. Then his voice dropped to a whisper and he confided, “We have no other option, Lore Father. Only these Adepts, each fully trained and bonded, can stem the tide unleashed in Lilyth’s realm
and
match Sovereign’s forces here on Edyn.”

He placed a hand on Giridian’s shoulder and squeezed. “Forgive me, but you cannot allow doubt to cloud your mind either. You must persevere, be the rock upon which these initiates can rest their faith, earn their place amongst the Ascended.”

Giridian placed a hand upon his brow, rubbing it as he watched dust motes freeze in the air. The boy’s hand was sloppily chambered, his foot wasn’t correctly canted, his knee was locked… three mistakes he could see without even trying. Worse, he knew Tomas could do better, so these simple mistakes spoke to problems rooted deeper in his mind.

As if he knew what Giridian was thinking and wanted to distract him, Thoth said, “I would introduce you to someone.”

Thoth motioned and from the air stepped another figure, a girl not much older than Tomas by the look of her. She stepped forward and bowed, one fist to her chest. It was then that he noticed her golden eyes and the wings that sat folded neatly on her back. This girl was no girl.

“Greetings, Lore Father. Fate falls kindly upon thee,” said the girl. “I art Sai’ken.”

Giridian blinked, then the memories he’d shared of Themun’s youth flooded back and he said, “Your father is Rai’stahn.”

“Verily,” said the girl, smiling. That smile revealed row upon row of fanged teeth. Sai’ken looked up at him from under arched eyebrows, her golden gaze almost piercing his soul. “I hath been charged by the Conclave to lend aid to thine Adepts. Wouldst thou share with me their path?”

Giridian looked from her to Thoth, who added, “Finding Armun Dreys is key, and Sai’ken knows him. Your adepts could use the help.”

“I’ve…” he began, then paused to clear his throat. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“Ken my only service is protecting the land and all her people. We dragons serve the Way, just as thee and thine doth. However,” she paused, looking at him in that discerning way only dragons could do, “Sais serve for the sake of vitality and potency. Do not believe thou art being misled in my ability to aid and succor thine adepts. We are not Rais.” This last was said with an arching eyebrow, as if the idea of being akin to the other type of dragons was somehow offensive.

“And you want to find Dragor and Jesyn and do what, exactly?” His mistrust had not diminished despite her openness.

Sai’ken looked to Thoth, who nodded once. Then the dragon looked back at him and said, “Armun may be held by the Sovereign. Thine adepts art ill-equipped to suborn his release. I will aid thee, and thereby assure success.”

Giridian absorbed this, still thinking. Before Kisan had disappeared she’d related that Rai’stahn had bonded with the red mage and fought against her and Silbane. They’d barely escaped with their lives. Now Rai’stahn’s daughter asked for the location of two more of his people. Telling
this
dragon the whereabouts of his adepts did not sit well with him, so he did the next best thing. He told the truth.

“I only know they strove towards the Dawnlight Mountain. Part of their effectiveness stems from being given a certain amount of latitude to carry out their orders. Their exact location is unknown to me now.”

Sai’ken’s golden eyes narrowed as she seemed to ponder his answer. Then she sighed and said, “I shall hearken unto Dawnlight and search for their scent. Mayhap Fate’s fortune shall smile upon me yet.”

Rather than say anything else, Giridian looked at the Keeper and decided to take a different tact. He knew they had been looking into the old records and asked, “Have you or the dragons learned anything about my runestaff?”

Thoth leaned back, resting his head on his own staff and closing his eyes. To Giridian his stance exuded a weariness beyond reckoning. When the Keeper opened his eyes, the lore father looked away out of respect. There seemed a profound sadness there. Then he turned to Sai’ken and said, “Tell him.”

The dragon nodded, stepped forward, and said softly, “Thine staff is the key for a lock known as the Phoenix Stone.”

That was new. He turned to the Keeper and asked, “What is this stone?”

Thoth made his way over to the frozen form of Tomas, inspecting him but addressing Giridian. “It holds within it a way to reshape things, to remake them based on the whims of the runestaff’s wielder.”

“And how’s that better than what Sovereign wants?” the lore father scoffed. “Are we just trading one oblivion for another?”

Thoth didn’t respond right away, his eyes far away. Then he said, “The Phoenix Stone does not have to remake the world… it can remake just the Maker.”

It occurred to Giridian that the Keeper seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Why would that be? he asked himself. He held that thought aside, comprehension slowly dawning about what the Keeper had just said. “You think the stone can kill Sovereign but leave the world intact?”

It was the dragon who responded, “Placing thine runestaff upon the stone endues forth life. Of that, we art certain.”

Thoth cleared his throat and said, “Of course, the wielder would have to be there.”