Rise of the Blood Masters (Book 5) (3 page)

Chua nodded. “I understand. I’ll help if I can. But before we begin, I’m curious as to what you know about her already. Do you have any information regarding her past?”

She looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then said, “Not much, I’m afraid. All I know for sure is that she’s a Balborite assassin. And she’s female, which is pretty rare.”

“I see,” he said. His expression changed suddenly, and he asked, “Is her face
completely
tattooed—even her head?”

Mugla made an excited movement with her hands. “Yes! Her head is shaved, and there are many tattoos on her skull. She’s even got a few on her tongue. I saw them pretty clearly, because she was
screaming
at me the whole time.”

Chua’s brows puckered in concentration. “The facial tattoos mean that her training is complete, and that she has taken her final blood oath to the temple. She’s a Blood Master; the highest ranking assassin. The tattoos take years to complete, and the head is always done last. The priests don’t bother giving full-body warding tattoos to lower spellcasters.”

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. I could tell right away she was powerful, though her technique leaves something to be desired. She’s very crude, only uses brute magic. There’s nothing subtle about her at all.”

Chua bowed his head slightly and replied. “Mmm… You know, now that I think of it, I’ve heard of this woman. She has a terrifying reputation. Even the orcs fear her. Her name is used to frighten children in the borderlands. Common folk say she’s possessed by an angry goddess.”

“Well, those rumors are sown in truth. She’s so powerful that it took two of us to defeat her. Skera-Kina is the strongest mortal sorceress I’ve ever stumbled across. It took nearly all my power just to escape her, never mind trying to defeat her.”

Chua pursed his lips in contemplation. “Does she have any family?”

Chua’s question sent Mugla into stunned silence.
Could Chua possibly know the truth already?
She hesitated a moment, cleared her throat, then took a breath.

Her stomach churned.
Should I tell him the truth?
Then she sighed.
It’s no use trying to hide it, not from him. I might as well tell him everything.
Her voice came out in a whisper.
“During the battle I discovered that Skera-Kina
might
be my bloodkin.”

Chua’s face didn’t register any surprise. In fact, he didn’t display any kind of emotion at all. “I see. That explains why you waited for Tallin to leave before seeking me out. Tell me how you discovered this information.”

Mugla continued. “When we met in battle, Skera-Kina carried an enchanted blade of my own making. I cast a protective enchantment on that sword years ago, but I’d forgotten about it. Only my own kin can touch the blade with their bare flesh. Skera-Kina and Tallin both touched the blade without injury. I didn’t tell anyone else about this. Obviously, the revelation came as a huge shock.  Even now, I have trouble believin’ it’s true.”

“Sometimes object enchantments will change over time. It’s not a precise form of magic. Are you absolutely certain that Skera-Kina is related to you?”

Mugla wrung her hands. “I thought about that possibility, but I’m
really
good at weapon enchantments. That’s no lie. I’ve never had one go sour before.” She sighed. “But maybe ye’re right. I guess I’m not really certain of anything. Even now I doubt myself.”

              “Let’s try another avenue. Describe her appearance, besides her tattoos, I mean. Did her features look familiar to you at all, like you could be family?”

Mugla shook her head. “No, I didn’t see any resemblance. She’s not tall, but she’s not short either. She doesn’t look like a dwarf. I assumed she was human. Those rune tattoos cover her entire face, so I couldn’t quite imagine what she looked like underneath the markings. To be honest, I was just trying to keep from getting killed. We barely escaped that fight with our lives.”

“How about that enchanted sword?” Chua asked. “Where is it now?”

“Tallin’s has the
Sword of Sedaria
. I gave it to him as a gift. He knows the blade is enchanted, but... h-he doesn’t understand the exact nature of the enchantment. I never told him the whole truth.” The last sentence came out reluctantly.

Chua fell silent. After some thought, he said, “I have a solution for you. A
heritage spell
should work. I can use it to discover your kinship with this woman. It’s a simple spell for someone who has the Sight, easy for me to perform and quite accurate, too. But in order to perform the spell, I must have an object that Skera-Kina has touched. Anything that has her energy will do. Do you happen to have something we could use, besides the sword, I mean?”

Mugla reached inside her apron and drew out a charred fragment of leather about as large as her thumb. “After Skera-Kina left, I stepped outside the mountain and found this.” She handed it to Chua. “It was on the ground near the area where we fought. I know it’s hers. I hoped it would be of use to ye.”

He rubbed the leather between his fingers and sniffed it. “I sense magical residue.” He sniffed again and wrinkled his nose. “And burnt flesh. This was soaked in blood. I can smell it.”

“Ye’re right,” said Mugla, glancing at him. “It was still bloody when I picked it up. Her skin is fused to the leather.”

Chua’s eyebrows arched up. “Remarkable. What spell did you use to restrain her?”

“I trapped her using an ancient spell:
paralysis fire.
The counter spell is simple, but there aren’t a dozen spellcasters alive who know it. The spell just isn’t used much anymore. To be honest, I gambled on her not knowing about it, and luckily for me, the gamble paid off.”

“I’ve never heard of paralysis fire being used in battle. Isn’t it used mainly as a restraining spell for prisoners and such?”

Mugla nodded. “Aye, it only restrains an enemy. Once someone is trapped inside the fire circle, they’re safe from harm. The spell isn’t really designed to be defensive, but that’s also why it succeeded with her. I chose it on purpose. Paralysis fire allows a weaker mage to trap a stronger one—it can incapacitate even the strongest mageborns. She tried many counter spells, but none of them worked. The Balborites wouldn’t bother teaching their apprentices a passive spell like that.”

“Did she attempt to escape the fire circle?” Chua asked, mostly to himself.  “That would certainly explain the blood.”

“Right again. She tested the boundary of my circle several times, and each time, it burned her badly. The pain must have been terrible, but she kept trying anyway. I smelled her burnt flesh in the air as we ran away from her. She never stopped fighting the spell. And every time she tried to break the circle, I felt weaker. She tried to break the circle with brute magical force. She’s as nasty as they come, and very skilled. Breaking a fire circle from the inside takes immense power. She eventually escaped, because I simply couldn’t maintain the spell anymore. She was defiant the entire time, never showed a drop of fear. A league of sorcerers couldn’t hold that woman for long.”

“Interesting.” Chua paused. He rubbed the leather in his fingers and said, “This item will suffice. But be warned. This isn’t an everyday object, like a shoe or a piece of jewelry. It’s got blood and battle residue on it, so it carries a fair amount of negative energy. That shall affect the incantation in a negative way. Many factors come into play when performing this type of spell, and the object itself is quite important. You may see…” he paused, searching for the appropriate words, “
unpleasant
things
. You must also understand that a heritage spell only provides a vision of the past, of that which has already occurred. You won’t be able to change anything the spell shows you. If the spell is successful, be prepared to face the consequences. It will reveal information about your loved ones, and what you learn may not be positive. There are many paths to the truth, but they are seldom easy.”

Mugla reached up and flipped a strand of gray hair from her eyes. “I understand. I still want to learn. I still want to know, whether it’s good or bad.”

Chua was again silent for a while. “As you wish. Just give me a few moments to gather my strength.”

Mugla moved closer, lowered her voice, and said, “Thank you.”

Chua tilted his head back and sighed. His fingers fluttered up to touch his gleaming dragon stone. Starclaw sensed the draw of the spell and crawled closer to her rider’s side, touching his shoulders with her snout. The stone at the base of the dragon’s throat also began to glow. Once their powers merged together, Chua started chanting softly.
“Lita-Hlita, Lita-Hlita…”

He lifted a corner of his blanket, exposing a bare patch of earth. Uttering words in the old language, he traced a circle in the dirt. He spit in the center of the circle.

A lick of flame shot up, and the air sparkled. A wisp of foul-smelling smoke rose from the circle, and Chua added a handful of small twigs and dried grass, causing more smoke to rise. He was finally ready. When he spoke again, his voice sounded far away, as though he were speaking through a long tunnel.

“The spell has begun,” Chua rasped. “I am blind, but I can still see the images in my mind’s eye. The vision you see before you comes through my dragon stone. Together, we shall gaze upon the past. Hopefully you will find the truth you are searching for.”

Gradually, three figures materialized in the curling smoke between them. There was no sound or smell, just a scene from a long time ago. Mugla’s eyes widened. She recognized the dwarf caverns at Mount Velik. The vision showed her old midwife’s quarters.

Inside a dimly-lit cave, several people attended a birth. A dwarf female lay on some furs, her clothing covered in blood, her head lolling from exhaustion.

There was a human male in a corner of the room. In the center of it all was Mugla, holding a screaming pink newborn. Mugla looked a bit younger, with fewer wrinkles and a straighter spine.

“Do you recognize the people in this vision?” Chua whispered.

“Aye… all of them. The dwarf woman is my sister, Tildara. She was Tallin’s mother.”

“And the human in the corner? Who is he?”

“My brother-in-law, Audun. That’s Tallin’s father. His parents were different races. Tallin’s father was human.”

Chua nodded. “Yes, Tallin is a
halfling
, isn’t he? As for his parents, they’re both dead now, right?”

Mugla gulped. “Yes. Audun and Tildara both died during the war.” She set her eyes on the smoky vision again, watching as her younger self lifted up the crying baby and quickly tied off the umbilical cord. Then she carried the infant to a wicker basket near the door.

The father looked at the baby and began sobbing, covering his face with his hands. He looked over at Tildara and shook his head miserably. Then the mother started crying, too.

“The baby was a little girl,” said Chua quietly.

“Yes,” Mugla admitted, her voice hoarse. “I attended the birth, and I delivered the baby. That baby was Tallin’s sister...my niece.” She choked the last words out, as if it hurt her to admit it.

A panic rose in her chest.  Mugla knew what was about to happen. A shudder ran through her body as the terrible memory swept through her. Oh, how hard she’d tried to forget that fateful day! How many times had she tried to erase it from her memory! She didn’t want to relive this horrible moment again.

Mugla squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. But she had to watch it. She had to know the truth, even if it was as terrible as she was starting to suspect. Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes and waited for the images to continue.

The smoke shifted and the scene continued. Now the baby’s father stood above Tildara, his arms shaking.  Pacing, throwing his hands up and down, Audun yelled at her. Tildara was curled into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth. Mugla stood quietly in the corner and wiped the infant with a moist towel.

Doing her best to ignore the screaming, Mugla wrapped the baby up in a little blanket and offered the girl to her mother.

Shaking her head and crying, Tildara refused to touch the baby.  There was a deep pain in her eyes. The father continued shouting, unmindful to his wife’s anguish. In the vision, Mugla frowned and left the birthing chamber, taking the infant with her. 

Now Mugla was walking through the mountain, her expression unreadable. She kept walking until she reached the gates leading to the outside. There she paused, ordering the guards to open the gates. The guards looked at her with a quizzical expression, but they complied with her request. After all, she was the oldest dwarf spellcaster. Not many dared to question her.

By now the baby had quieted down. Mugla stepped outside and waited for the gates to be closed behind her. She wiped tears from her face and tried to smile at the infant as it reached up for her, its tiny fist opening and closing. She kissed the baby on the forehead. Then she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply. At first, there was no response, so she whistled again. After several minutes, a brightly colored wagon became visible in the distance.

The wagon stopped once it reached Mugla. A young woman in vividly colored skirts stepped out. The woman gave Mugla a wide grin and a swift embrace. Mugla smiled back and handed the newborn to her. The gypsy woman tickled the newborn under her chin, and the baby giggled. There were several children in the back of the wagon, all of various ages and skin tones. Some stepped forward, inspecting the newcomer with innocent curiosity.

Chua coughed, and the vision faded for a moment. His breaths were labored. “I’m sorry. I must rest for a moment. This is a longer foretelling than I’m used to.” After his breath steadied and his chest stopped heaving, he said, “I saw that you took the baby to another family. What happened?”

Mugla’s shoulders sagged, as though every part of her was being pulled down by some great weight. “Tildara became pregnant during the war... but the father of the baby
wasn’t
Tildara’s husband. My niece was the product of rape. It was obvious as soon as I lay eyes on that little girl. Tildara was so upset at the time. I understood her situation, so I gave the baby to another family to raise. I thought I was doing the right thing.” Mugla started crying. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but maybe that one was the hardest of all.