Second Chance (17 page)

The next morning dawned quickly.  Ava’s first thoughts when she awoke were of the way Carrick made love to her the previous night.  She was positive she would open her eyes to him looking down at her with unrequited love.  Instead, she turned and noticed he was gone from the bed.  Scanning the room, she saw him sitting at the table, fully dressed and watching her.  His face was a mask of impassivity and his lips were set in a grim line. 
So much for that little fantasy.

“I don’t suppose I could encourage you to come back to bed for a bit?”

“We have to get going.  I was just about to wake you anyway.”

Ava sighed to herself.  What was it going to take to get him to warm up completely?  He was full of love and passion when they were in bed together, but past that, Carrick acted as if they were nothing more than close acquaintances.  It was driving her nuts but she also knew that Carrick was the type of man who could not be pushed into anything. He had to arrive on his own.  She would just have to continue to provide a little encouragement along the way.

Ava and Carrick ate breakfast down in the inn hall then saddled up their horses.  Before they left, they asked the innkeeper about Hephastus and got a reaction they had not expected. 

“Absolutely I know Heph.  Terrific fellow.  He comes into town quite regularly and always stops by here for a meal and friendly talk.”

Carrick must have been gaping at the innkeeper.   “You are talking about Hephastus Clairmont, right?”

“Yes,” Ava added quickly. “He’s my uncle and we are here to visit him.” 

The innkeeper must not have known that Hephastus was related to the House of Clairmont in Kestevayne as he didn’t mention it or seem to defer to Ava as royalty.  That was perfectly fine for Ava and Carrick.  They wanted to keep a low profile.

Ava continued.  “My husband and I are enjoying some honeymoon travels through these lovely mountains, and I remembered Uncle Hephastus lived here.  I wanted to stop in and see him if it wasn’t too far out of our way.”

The innkeeper was only too happy to provide directions.  Hephastus didn’t live but a few miles out of town.  Ava and Carrick thanked and complimented the innkeeper on his hospitality, and rode out.

Not long after they left sight of the town, Carrick and Ava were met on the roadway by one of Carrick’s soldiers.  He reported that they had been sending out scouting parties in all directions and there had been no sightings of any of Ralina’s forces.  Carrick directed the man to have his troops station themselves around Hephastus’ home, at least a quarter of a mile away in all directions.  He would call on them if help was needed.  The soldier left to do Carrick’s bidding.

“Have you given any thought to the approach you want to take with your uncle,” Carrick asked.

“I was thinking something along the lines of, ‘we come in peace, please do not smite us with your blood mojo’.”

Carrick snorted.

“Actually, I think we should just ride up as if we were coming for a visit.  And hope that he really is just the good ol’ Heph that the villagers in Avery all know and love.”

Carrick didn’t say anything, which meant he agreed. 

They continued the rest of the ride in silence.  Ava spent the time drinking in the beauty of the Rosethorn Mountains.  They were not overly large mountains, and they were currently riding in the valley.  But all around there was an explosion of color.  The valley meadows were abundant with wildflowers of all varieties.  The colors were brilliant, almost surreal.  She’d seen plenty of flowered meadows in Wyoming, but they couldn’t compare to the beauty of the Vyronasian landscape.  The trees smothering the mountains were also ablaze.  Not only with the lovely green, blue and purple leaves of the trees, but most had blooming flowers or fruits on them as well.  

And the smell…it was like sniffing serenity.  In most of her known history of Vyronas, there was never much violence or conflict.  It had been hundreds of years since anything like Ralina’s takeover had happened.  Ava had always thought that part of the reason for the years of continued peace may have been from the natural beauty their world provided.  It was hard to be evil, violent and greedy when its residents were surrounded in utter peace and harmony by the elements.

Reveling in glorious nature all around her, Ava felt more relaxed than she had in a while.  Which is what she needed because if she thought about some of the fears she had been harboring over this meeting with Hephastus, she would be riding King in the other direction.  The problem was, she just didn’t know what to expect, and the fear of the unknown had always given Ava heartburn.

Carrick first spied Hephastus’ home, which sat at the edge of a meadow, surrounded by large shade trees.  The mountains rose up behind his abode, providing additional shelter to his property.  There was a large pond to the side of his house with an old wooden bench at the edge.  Ava wondered if Hephastus spent time on that bench fishing… or practicing blood magic.  Time to find out.

As Carrick and Ava rode up to the front of the house, the door opened.  A man of about fifty years of age stepped out.  He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair trimmed short and warm brown eyes.  He was tanned, indicating he spent a great deal of time outdoors.  He had a warm smile on his face and looking at him, they had no doubt that he was King Jaron’s older brother. 

He was not what Ava had expected. Where was the crazy loon of a man that practiced dark magicks? 

“Can I help you folks with something?”

Hephastus looked between Carrick and Ava.  Then his eyes snapped back to Ava and recognition dawned.  “Ava? Is that you?”

“Hello, Uncle.”  She felt very shy all of a sudden.

“Well get down off that horse and give your uncle a hug,” Hephastus boomed.

Ava looked at Carrick, who just shrugged his shoudlers.  He looked as bewildered as Ava felt. 

Both of them dismounted and Ava approached her uncle.  When she got close, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug.  Ava tensed up at first, but then sensed only love and security from him.  No malevolence, although that surely could be hidden.  Still, she found herself warming to him instantly.

Hephastus stepped back, keeping his hands on Ava’s shoulders. He looked her up and down.  Pride was in his eyes.  “You have grown into a lovely woman, Ava.  Jaron would have been so proud of you.”

Ava’s eyes misted. “You speak of father in the past tense.  So you know he is dead?”

Hephastus nodded sadly. “I know much.  And I suspect you have come for some answers?”

Trying to blink back tears, Ava nodded in reply.

Hephastus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, patting her on the shoulder.  Carrick stepped forward and put one arm around Ava’s shoulder for comfort, and the other he extended toward Hephastus.

“I’m Carrick Dunne.  Commandant of the Royal House of Clairmont Army.” 

“I know who you are.  And please, just call me Heph.”  Hephastus reached out and shook Carrick’s hand.  “You and Ava were always best buddies growing up I seem to remember.  And I knew your father well. Good man.  I was sorry to hear about his death.”

“Thank you.  He died with honor.”

Hephastus nodded.  “Well, come on in and let’s have something to drink and we can talk.”

Carrick and Ava followed Hephastus into his house.  Half expecting to see his home filled with chicken’s feet, skulls and whatever other weird stuff that might be used in dark magicks, Ava was surprised at how cheerful the interior was.   He had garlic and dried peppers hanging in his kitchen window rather than chicken’s feet, and flowers on his table rather than a skull.  Bright curtains framed every window and hand-woven rugs were scattered over the wooden floor.

Ava had to giggle over her assumptions. She waved her arms around the room, indicating the lovely interior.  “Uncle Heph, I’m sorry, but this is just not what I was expecting.” 

Heph chuckled.  “I suppose not.  I had quite the sullied reputation when I left Kestevayne.  But, a man can change, can’t he?”

Ava stole a quick glance at Carrick, who averted her gaze. “Yes, men can indeed change…if they want to.”    

Heph pulled out three large mugs from a kitchen cabinet and walked over to a wooden keg he kept in the corner.  “I think a family reunion deserves a drink.”  He poured three mugs of ale and everyone sat at the kitchen table.

“How much do you know about what has happened to Kestevayne?” Carrick inquired.

“Some,” Heph said. “We get travelers through here that pass news along.  Some I’ve learned through scrying out there in my pond.  I know a woman named Ralina has delved deeply into the dark arts using blood magic.  I know she murdered Jaron and Selena.   I know Ava has been gone for some time, although I’m not sure where.  And I know that you, Carrick, are leading an army to reclaim Kestevayne for Ava.”

“Do you know why we are here?” Carrick asked.

“I assume you want to know about blood magic.”

“Yes,” Ava responded.  “We need to understand Ralina before we can battle her.”

“Well,” Heph said with a sigh, “You’ve come to the right place.  I can tell you all you need to know.”

“Before we get to that,” Carrick interrupted, “you need to assure me that you are loyal to Ava and are not practicing dark magic yourself.  You need to explain why you were banished from Kestevayne and why we should trust you.”

“Carrick!” Ava exclaimed.  “That’s rude.”

“No, Ava,” Heph said.  He looked at Carrick with respect. “He’s correct.  You need to understand my background for you to trust what I’m telling you.”

Heph stood up and walked over to a plain, wooden chest standing adjacent to the kitchen wall.  Opening it up, he took out a large leather-bound book.  It looked fairly ordinary with no distinctive markings on the outside.  It did have a buckle and lock securing the pages.  Heph set the book on the table. 

“This is everything you need to know about blood magic. I’m going to give it to you.  But let me give you the short version, and how I practiced magic with it.”

Heph gave a compelling story.  He told Ava and Carrick that blood magic had been around for thousands of years and had always been practiced by people who held magical abilities.  The principle was very basic:  Blood equaled fuel.  Or in other words, the use of blood would lend more power to any spell, potion or incantation a sorcerer was attempting.  This could be something as innocent as lending a drop of your blood to a protection amulet, or something as sinister as using a sacrifice for blood to raise a demon. 

Blood magic was not, in itself, inherently dark or evil.  The distinction lay within the person using the blood.  What was their intent?  If their intent was for good, then the magic was good.  If their intent was bad, then the magic was bad.  However, it wasn’t all black and white.  There were definite shades of gray, Heph admitted. 

Heph, as older brother to Jaron, was actually first in line to rise to the throne upon their parents’ death.  However, Heph was not interested in ruling Kestevayne.  It’s not that he didn’t love Kestevayne.  Quite the contrary, he loved it very much.  His interests lay solely in ways he could help to protect Kestevayne from a day that may bring dark forces against their home.  

Heph often used his magic to look into the future, known as scrying, and he saw dark days ahead for Kestevayne.  He ceded the throne to Jaron, who fought him tooth and nail, but eventually capitulated.  All Heph asked was for the ability to be able to do deep study about magic and its history.  Jaron set Heph up in a large private apartment, complete with library and apothecary so he could study and practice. 

Now, this was all done in a time when Royal families never bothered with their histories of magic.  They had their Conclave to advise them.  The Scrinia line always kept the necessary chronicles to record the Royal’s history, and advise them on how best to use their magicks.

“It was during these studies that I discovered the use of blood in spell casting.  At first, it was nothing but a passing interest, but then I realized that blood could be used to enhance my spells.  With just a drop of my blood, my spells were stronger, and lasted longer.”

Heph paused to take a sip of his ale.  He looked at Carrick and Ava with something like shame in his eyes.  “It wasn’t long before I became obsessed with blood magic. Not for my personal benefit, but to use it as fuel for offensive and defensive spells to help protect Kestevayne.”

“Were you learning this from the Scrinia?” Ava asked.

Heph shook his head.  “The Scrinia claimed to have no knowledge of blood magic but I did find some information within their libraries.  I also took two years and traveled across Vyronas, talking to elder sorcerers trying to learn as much as I could.  In my travels, I came across an old warlock who lived in the desert plains of Vyronas, almost a thousand miles from Kestevayne.  This old warlock was a nomad, and had like me, been traveling the Vyronasian world.  However, he was on his deathbed when I found him, and he took his last breaths to impart his knowledge of blood magic to someone else.  He also handed over that book to me.”

Ava looked at the book in wonder.  What secrets did it hold?  Was it evil?  She reached her hand out and let her fingertips graze over the leather.  It felt like an ordinary book.   Nothing sinister radiated from it.  “What did you do next?”

“I returned to Kestevayne and secluded myself for the next several years.  I furiously worked my way through the book.  It was filled with the history of blood magic, as well as pages and pages of spells, incantations and potions.  Some were for noble purposes, some…were not.”

“Did you perform the spells in the book?” Carrick inquired.

Heph nodded his head.  “It didn’t take long before I started experimenting with blood magic in earnest.  First, I used my own blood, as I learned that sacrificing my own with good intent always produced favorable results.  However, I’m ashamed to admit that I was fascinated that the more powerful spells always needed the sacrifice of another’s blood to work.  And if the sacrifice included taking a life, well…the spell was practically invincible.”