Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) (17 page)

When they arrived at one of the doors, she turned and nodded, a look of amusement on her face as though she’d read his thoughts. He felt the urge to apologize, but she didn’t give him the chance. “A good morning to you,” she said and left him.

With a glance at the heavy wooden door, Korbin knocked.

“Come in,” Eliam called.

Korbin was relieved to hear his friend’s voice. He felt a wave of shame that he’d considered Eliam or one of his servants might betray him. He pushed the door open.

Eliam sat alone at a large, round luncheon table, having toasted bread and tea.

“Where is Octavia?” Korbin asked, closing the door behind him.

Eliam signaled to an interior door. “In the bed chamber. I asked her if we might speak alone.”

“Interesting choice of location,” Korbin said, taking a seat across from Eliam.

With a shrug, Eliam drank the last of his tea. “This isn’t the first meeting I’ve held here. The proprietor told me once only half the transactions that go on in this place involve the expected activities for such an establishment.”

Korbin wondered how far the proprietor could be trusted, but he imagined Vol’s wealthy and powerful paid well for their secrets to remain undisclosed.

“I hope you understand why I didn’t think it wise for you to return to the house.” A frown of worry etched across Eliam’s brow.

“Of course. I understand the risks you’re taking.”

“How did it go with your father?” Eliam’s tone betrayed that he didn’t expect it had gone well.

Korbin sighed, flicking an invisible crumb off the tablecloth. “I saw him, but he wouldn’t speak with me.”

“What? Not at all?”

With a shake of his head, Korbin explained what he’d seen and the priest’s instructions. “It was strange. My father’s never been a religious man. I can’t help but think that curse will have lasting effects. Octavia did her best, but perhaps we were too late to save him from the worst of it.”

“Maybe he needs time. It’s possible these priests can help him. Still, I find it odd that he’s going to appear in Centennial Square tomorrow. They didn’t say why?”

“No, only that he would be there at midday.”

“I can’t think why there and at that particular time. Perhaps he intends to make an announcement. I’ll see what I can find out. Are you really going to risk going? It won’t be safe.”

“I’ll think about it. It’s not too difficult to blend into a crowd. With this weather, I can cover my hair and part of my face without looking out of place.”

“Be careful,” Eliam said. “There were two arrests this morning.”

“Who?” Korbin glanced up sharply.

Eliam pushed his plate away. “People believed to be Kilovian practitioners.”

Korbin frowned. “I doubt they were. The real practitioners left the city days ago.” It was nearly true. Only the one called Rhikar, Octavia’s mentor, and Octavia herself still remained within the city walls, if Rhikar was to be believed. And perhaps the dark conduit. Korbin only half-hoped one of those arrested was the one who had attacked him the previous night.

“Who told you that?” Eliam asked.

A flicker of distrust crossed Korbin’s mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Eliam, but more that he didn’t want to betray any of Octavia’s people to the authorities. Eliam had loyalty to Korbin, but he was standing by and letting practitioners be rounded up for no reason other than they were of the same race and religion as Octavia and presumably the dark conduit.

“I’ve been asking around,” Korbin said.

The vague answer seemed to satisfy Eliam, because he didn’t press. “You and Octavia can stay here today and tonight. I’ve paid for privacy and meals. That should at least get you through to when you need to meet with your father.” He paused. “If things shouldn’t go well tomorrow, I’ve come up with a possible solution. I have a cousin who lives by the sea in Arcciosca. He owns a fishing business. He does quite well. I’ve written to request that he take you on. It would mean working out at sea, but I know you. You’d pick up the necessary skills quickly and taking the job would get you away from all this. You could leave tomorrow afternoon. He’ll be expecting you.” He handed Korbin a sealed letter. “Here’s your introduction.”

“What about Octavia?” Korbin asked.

Eliam’s expression darkened as he frowned. “I can’t help her.” Lowering his voice, he said, “You know what she is, and she can’t stop being that. If anyone ever found out that I sheltered a Kilovian conduit after everything that’s happened here…”

“Right.” Korbin sat back in the chair. “Of course not.” His words indicated agreement, but he felt anything but agreeable. He couldn’t abandon Octavia. He put the letter in his pocket. “Thank you.”

“Will you go?” Eliam pressed.

“It depends what happens at Centennial Square tomorrow. I haven’t given up hope my father will clear our names.”

“Korbin, you have to prepare yourself for the worst. Your father proved how much loyalty he has to you a few years ago when he cast you out. What kind of man does that to his only son?”

“You know my father,” Korbin said and tried to chuckle, but his humor fell flat.

“It’s time to consider that we may never know who attacked Graiphen and that we may not be able to restore things to the way they were before. At moments like this, currents move quickly in political circles. The atmosphere in Vol is changing fast, and not for the better. It may be prudent for us to do what we must to save our own skins.”

Korbin wasn’t certain if the message was that he should abandon Octavia, or that Eliam was about to abandon them both. “I’m not ready to give up.”

With a nod and a sigh, Eliam stood. “I’m both impressed and dismayed at your optimism. We both know what kind of man your father is, what kind of men the upper ranks of the Council is comprised of.”

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” Korbin said, standing as well. “Thank you for arranging all this. You’ve been a good friend.”

“Stay safe.” And with a final word of farewell, Eliam left.

After a moment, Octavia stepped out of the bedroom. She was dressed not as a Kilovian conduit or a Talmoran servant, but as a merchant-class woman of Vol. Her dark eyes and high cheekbones gave away her heritage, but none would question her. She looked stunning. Korbin was at a loss for words.

As though both pleased with and annoyed by his reaction, she flushed. “I heard his offer to you,” she said.

“I won’t leave you alone. It’s our fault you’re in trouble, that your sister conduits are in danger and some of your countrymen have been arrested.”

She sat in the chair Eliam had abandoned, moving with surprising grace and ease in the Talmoran costume. With her proud bearing, she seemed underdressed, as though she were a noblewoman masquerading as someone of mere middle class, not a fugitive disguised as a merchant’s wife or daughter.

When she didn’t answer, he said, “I’m sorry we have to stay here. You’d talked about going to see the other conduits. If you want to leave, I understand.”

“Soon, but not yet.” With a low voice, she added, “I won’t abandon you either, Korbin Ulbrich. One of my people attacked your family. I will find out who and make this right.”

“How are you going to discover this? Have you recovered from last night?”

She flushed as though using her blood to protect him had been shameful and something she didn’t want to be reminded of. “Almost,” she said, lightly touching her sleeve where she’d cut her arm.

He wondered if her magic offered her any help with pain and healing. He hoped so. “Do you think he’ll attack again?”

“Most certainly. And I intend to be ready. I will protect you as best I can.”

He thought of the bizarre spectacle of her covering him with her own blood. It had been a strangely intimate moment. “Is there any way I can help?”

“No. I need to buy a few things, but I should go alone. Your face is perhaps too easily recognized. You’ve been taking too many chances of late.”

He wanted to argue, but there was little he could do but agree. “Do you need money?”

“No, but thank you. I couldn’t take another declani from your family. I have more than enough from what you already paid me.”

He wasn’t certain why she seemed to feel ashamed. She’d earned every coin when she broke the curse on Graiphen, an act which cost her freedom.

“Very well,” he said. “If you think of some way I can help, let me know.”

“Don’t worry. Your part is not yet finished. But for today, I intend to weave a web of protection to help when you face your father tomorrow.”

Face him.
Korbin nodded, taking in her odd choice of words, wondering if she knew something he didn’t.

Chapter 13

During the day they’d spent hiding in the brothel, Korbin and Octavia talked, took meals together, and rested. She spoke about herself and her beliefs, making some effort to educate him about the nature of the One. The more she revealed, the more mysterious she and her practices seemed. Every sentence out of her mouth made him want to ask deeper questions.

A few times, she’d flinched without explanation, and he’d worried they were about to be attacked again. When he asked what was wrong, she simply shook her head.

She’d gone out in the early evening after making him promise not to leave. When he tried to discourage her from going, she gave him a level look that made him regret giving voice to his protective instinct. She didn’t seem to think twice about being seen coming and going from such an establishment, even at an hour when customers might arrive. He wasn’t sure if it was her nature or simply confidence that no one would recognize or question her in her current disguise.

After an hour of her absence, Korbin began to worry, but he did as promised and stayed put. He paced, barely paying any mind to the meal brought in the meantime. Telling himself he was being ridiculous, he tried to avoid the scenarios playing in his mind. What would he do if she was caught and arrested? Without much hesitation, he acknowledged he’d have to turn himself in and speak up for her. He couldn’t let her be accused of something he knew she hadn’t done.

He only hoped Eliam would do the same. It occurred to Korbin that perhaps this was why Eliam was helping them. He didn’t want to deal with a situation where he’d have to testify on behalf of someone for whom he’d issued an arrest warrant.

When she did finally return, she walked in and met his eyes, a look of relief on her face. Had she expected him to leave despite his promise not to, or was this about something worse? As was her way, she refused his gesture of help with the heavy bag she was carrying, instead taking it into the bed chamber, closing the door behind her.

He stared at the door for a moment, then shrugged. She was independent and clearly had her own way of dealing with their worries. While he waited, he uncovered the dinner and poured two glasses of wine.

When she hadn’t emerged for some time, he decided to eat. The food was already cold, but for all he knew, Octavia didn’t plan to come out at all. As much as he liked her, he didn’t pretend to understand her.

He was halfway through dinner when she opened the bedchamber door. She’d removed the Talmoran dress and was once again wearing her Kilovian attire. He couldn’t quite reconcile how different she looked, even more so now that her hair was loose and disheveled, some sticking in a sheen of sweat on her face. She appeared pale, but not as much as she had been at Eliam’s. Korbin knew at once she’d been practicing magic.

He stood, not sure what to say, and waited for her to speak.

“Hold out your hands,” she said, her eyes focused and serious.

He did as commanded, and she reached over and pushed up one of his sleeves. Taking a bit of dark twine from a pouch, she wrapped it around his wrist three times, then tied it off before repeating the same on his other wrist. The twine felt damp in places, and he realized his wrists were smeared with what looked like blood. Once again, she’d given her life essence to protect him.

One last piece went around his neck like a choker. “Try not to let it get wet or expose it to air. I have a scarf you can use to cover it tomorrow.”

He searched for words to thank her, but felt none of the ones that came to mind would suffice. Instead he nodded, unable to speak because of the lump of emotion in his throat. They didn’t say much more to each other that night. Octavia looked tired, and Korbin settled into a pensive mood.

The next day, he arrived at Centennial Square about half an hour before midday, surprised at the large crowd. Octavia’s dark wool scarf covered the lower part of his face. She insisted she would only stay away from the square if he swore to be more careful than he had been.

He worked his way through the crush of people, keeping his eyes down but trying to observe and listen. The place was abuzz with word of more Kilovians’ arrests.

He heard his father’s name mentioned more than once from those he would not expect to be interested in politics. It was as though the emperor himself was due to arrive, and Korbin found the heady sense of anticipation almost disturbing.

Settling into position on the steps of a moneylender’s office facing the square, he stood on a raised platform. A wide column hid him from view. He was surrounded by people and felt certain he didn’t stand out too much. Due to a bitter wind, many were just as covered as he. Those who weren’t looked miserably cold.

From his vantage point, Korbin could see much of the square. He was surprised to notice that not only was Eliam present, but also most of the Council of Eight. In fact, as he continued to scan that section of the crowd, he realized
all
of them were there, except, of course, his father.

As time passed, the streets grew more and more congested until people were pressed in so tightly that leaving would have proven difficult. Onlookers, from high-born to merchant citizens to servants and the poor, struggled to find a place. Beyond the square, many more hundreds of people filled side streets.

Trepidation tightened in Korbin’s stomach. What did his father have planned?

He didn’t have long to chew on the question before a rumbling passed through the crowd. Craning his neck to see around a ridiculously ornate hat worn by a woman beside him, Korbin caught sight of a line of red. Despite the crush of people, the crowd miraculously parted before a solemn row of crimson-robed priests.