Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) (7 page)

“Will you search for his enemies?” she asked.

“It wouldn’t take much to find an enemy of my father’s. He’s not a likeable man.”

“There is dislike,” Octavia said, her tone serious. “Then there is hate. This bond was strong, the magic fierce. This required more than dislike.”

Korbin frowned. She was right, of course. Even if he wasn’t certain what he believed in, the desire to place a curse like this wasn’t an ordinary action. Someone wanted Graiphen to suffer. But who? An enemy in the senate was the most obvious answer. The Dul had few interests outside his political life, but he’d trampled many people on his climb to the top of the mountain. “I honestly don’t know if I want to be involved. If the positions were reversed, he wouldn’t help me. Why should I entangle myself in his affairs?”

Octavia shrugged. “There is a certain wisdom to not enmeshing oneself in the troubles of others. Life brings us enough of our own. No need to drink from a common well.”

He’d expected her to try to convince him to help, lecture him about loyalty and family. It’s what Eliam or Tarsten would have done. But Octavia wasn’t like anyone he’d ever spoken to before. Despite how little he understood her, he felt safe in her presence, an unfamiliar sensation that made him reluctant to leave.

“You know what you want to do, Korbin,” she said quietly. “I will not try to persuade you when you have already convinced yourself which path to take.”

“There doesn’t seem to be one right or wrong answer.”

She chuckled and patted his hand before standing up, a clear signal it was time for him to go. “There never is, but at least you’re learning.”

He followed her lead and stood, then made his way to the top of the stair. He didn’t want to face the night, but he had to leave. The hour was nearing midnight, and he had no excuse to stay.

“Can I return sometime?” he asked, wishing it didn’t sound so much like he was trying to court her. Although she was beautiful, a woman like her was out of his reach and always would be. He merely liked her company and wanted to know more about her and her world, to hear more of her wisdom.

She smiled. “What is fated to happen cannot be avoided, Korbin.”

He bowed, confused by her response. Did that mean yes or no? When he descended the stairs, he felt her gaze on him all the way to the door. As he reached it, he turned, but she was gone.

Chapter 5

After returning two days later from a run to Iszle for the Talmor Riders, Korbin received a message from Eliam. Although he had expected the request, it put pressure on him. During his journey, he’d thought of little besides his father’s request and also, surprisingly, of Octavia. She’d opened a door for him into a new way of thinking, but where that door would lead, he was uncertain.

Both Imperial messengers and Talmor Riders travelled the empire in all quarters, so meeting with Eliam wouldn’t look strange. Still, they shouldn’t linger too long anywhere Korbin might be recognized. In his commoners’ clothes and with his long hair, he felt fairly safe, but he didn’t want to take too many risks.

Just past midday, Korbin took the servants’ entrance into Eliam’s manor. The servants knew Korbin, but they’d been discreet about his occasional appearances since his father disowned him. Most guests would have been given an escort to Eliam’s study, but the head manservant merely gave Korbin a friendly nod.

“Good day, Dul,” he said. Nearly two years, and they still called him Dul. No matter how he dressed, that he worked as a rider, and that everyone in the city knew Korbin no longer had the right to the title. He thought of the honor as their defiance against convention.

“Good day, Phinian. Is he in his study?”

“Yes. I believe he’s expecting you. Shall I send refreshment? Dul Eliam usually takes a light meal at this hour.”

“Not for me, thanks. I don’t expect to be long.”

“Very good, Dul.” With that, the manservant returned to his work.

Korbin approached the study and knocked. When he entered, Eliam glanced up from a sheaf of papers. How many times had Korbin seen his friend doing just that? Every time, he’d been grateful the upper class worries were no longer his. He loved riding from city to city, tending the horses, living a simple life with little pressure.

The dark circles under Eliam’s eyes indicated he hadn’t been getting much sleep.

“You look like you had a night with Ness herself,” Korbin said. The Shadow goddess’ realm was that of lost souls. As soon as he spoke her name, his thoughts turned to Octavia. Perhaps she was right and
he
was the one who was lost.

“How was Iszle?” Eliam asked, putting his papers aside.

“Cold,” Korbin said and took a seat. “It’s always bloody cold in Iszle.”

Eliam chuckled at the saying. Despite being a nice coastal city, the brutal winter winds off the sea gave Iszle the reputation of being an unforgiving place. “I’m glad you’re back. Your father has been asking for you.”

“Has his condition improved?” Korbin had kindled a hope Graiphen would be fully restored to his reason. Then the old man could run his own investigation. Their relationship would return to its previous state of ignoring one another.

Eliam tapped his fingers on his desk as he considered. “I suppose
yes
is the correct answer.”

Korbin frowned. “You suppose? What’s wrong?”

Eliam stood and went to a large lockbox fitted into a shelf on the wall. He retrieved a leather pouch similar to the one he’d given Korbin a few days before. “The rest of Octavia’s payment. Will you take it to her? I’d stand out too much there, even in my merchant’s clothing. Or I can give the task to a servant if the timing is inconvenient.”

Korbin accepted the pouch and thought about Octavia, what he’d like to ask her. His mind was blank. He didn’t often feel tongue-tied with women, but she was more complicated than most. “I’ll do it. Less risky that way.”

Eliam nodded his appreciation. No matter what the reason, dealing with a foreign witch was not something a man of Eliam’s standing could be seen doing. That his friend approached her personally in the first place surprised Korbin, but likely Tarsten wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to explain Graiphen’s situation without revealing the identities of those involved.

“So why do you say
you suppose
he’s improving?”

“Your father is more himself, definitely. More in control of his faculties. On the other hand, he’s less rational. He’s obsessed with finding whoever did this to him. He’s so maniacal on the subject, I’m afraid he’ll call unwanted attention to the fact he was sick in the first place. Mostly, he’s accusing Dul Ursin, although none of the senators have escaped his denunciations. Keeping him quiet now is even more difficult than when he was more strongly under the influence of the curse.”

“Why’s he asking for me?”

“He’s convinced you can discover what happened and who was responsible. Telling him you would come upon your return from Iszle is the only way we managed to prevent him from going into the senate. He intends to question our senate colleagues. He even threatened to demand an official inquiry from the emperor.”

Korbin winced. That would be a disaster. The emperor might just as likely remove Graiphen from the senate as investigate his claims. No one of standing would wish to be associated with Kilovian witchcraft, lest they be seen as anti-theists—that is to say anti-Talmoran, a dangerous accusation.

“Surely he wouldn’t,” Korbin said.

“The old Dul Graiphen, no. But he’s not himself.” Eliam paused. “Have you considered his request? He thinks you can discover things no one else could.”

“For the past two days, I’ve thought of little else. Honestly, I don’t see what I can do. Does he want me to approach this as his son, or as a rider? Does he even know that’s what I am now? As his son, I have little influence and years of disgrace to my name. Who would talk to me? As a rider, I’m nobody.”

“Riders are seen but not noticed. You fit in everywhere,” Eliam said. “Will you try?”

“I shouldn’t,” Korbin said.

“Is this about Tainali?”

Hearing her name made a blade of pain slice through Korbin’s heart. She had been the young woman who brought his lifetime of arguments and troubles with Graiphen to a head. Graiphen ruined her father both politically and financially because he believed her unsuitable to consort with his son, the Ulbrich heir. After her father committed suicide, Tainali left the city to live with charitable relatives in Engette.

She left a note asking him to never speak to her again. Her words were cruel but true. He tried to win her back, but she rebuffed every effort. When she married someone else, he stopped trying.

“No,” he said with a sigh. “This is not about Tainali.” He made himself say her name to prove that he could.

Eliam looked as though he had more to say but held himself back.

For that, Korbin was grateful. “I’ll go see him. I may as well. He knows I’m in Vol. Soon, everyone else will, too.” To think his new friends and neighbors would learn his true identity filled him with dread. He’d be forced to leave Chelotti Strand.

Maybe he should think about another city. The bitter cold of Iszle might suit him more. He’d always liked the sea. The riders had people posted all over the empire. He worked hard, was well respected. He wouldn’t have trouble getting a new post unless Graiphen decided to make life difficult. Korbin sighed. Of course his father would make life difficult. In fact, Korbin was surprised his superiors hadn’t called him in already. Any day, they might demand he return his token.

There were few places in the empire where Graiphen didn’t have influence, but maybe Korbin could leave quietly. Become anonymous again. Choose a new name. Perhaps Rilian. His mother told him she wanted to name him Rilian after her uncle. Graiphen had refused, saying it sounded like a woman’s name.

When he looked up from his musing, Eliam was watching him. “You’re thinking of leaving.”

Korbin shrugged, not wanting to think about it too much. Starting over didn’t appeal to him, but the situation left him little choice. For a fleeting moment, he considered Kilovia. Would they welcome a Talmoran? Probably not.

He put the coin pouch in his cloak pocket and secured it to a band inside, a rider’s trick. “I’m off,” he said. “What is fated to happen cannot be avoided.” Repeating Octavia’s words gave him a shudder, as though a shadow had danced across his grave.

∞

“Thank the Spirits you’re here, Dul Korbin,” one of the younger manservants said.

Korbin had used the servants’ entrance again. Despite the fact that he felt certain his identity would soon be revealed, he wasn’t ready to stroll down the tiled streets of the North Circle. Another servant approached, then suddenly he was surrounded by people fussing over taking his cloak, inquiring as to his well-being, all while maneuvering him toward Dul Graiphen’s quarters. Their behavior was so uncharacteristic, he went with the flow, allowing them to escort him to his father. As before, he sensed their fear and their hope that his presence would fix the problems haunting their existence.

The scene disturbed him. Hadn’t Tarsten said Graiphen’s state was improving? Finally, he agreed he would stay for a meal and that it wouldn’t hurt if the maids made up his old room. He had no intention of spending one night under this roof, but these people’s lives depended on the stability of the household. As long as Graiphen was in a bad state, they lived with uncertainty. Why had no one thought of the consequences for the household?

He knew the answer, of course. Tarsten was thinking of the consequences of Graiphen’s condition on him, as Graiphen’s ally, on the senate, on the emperor, and thus on the nation. If Talmor believed the head of the senate was mad, what would happen? The emperor might be forced to intervene.

The head manservant arrived, and his sharp tone snapped everyone to attention, even Korbin. “What is going on here?” He recognized Korbin in the center of the clutch of people, and his eyes widened. “Dul Korbin. My most humble apologies.” He barked at the others, “Back to work. Now.” He turned back to Korbin. “Forgive us, Dul. We’re all a bit unsettled.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Korbin said. “It has been a difficult time. Tell me, has my father’s state not improved in the past two days? I’d had high hopes.”

“Oh, yes, he’s much improved since your last visit, Dul,” he said, but the shadow across his expression didn’t give Korbin any comfort.

Straightening his shirt, Korbin nodded. He needed to project confidence, though he felt anything but. These people had been loyal and deserved better than the chaos they’d been living with. “I’ll see him now.”

“I believe Dul Graiphen is in his sleeping chamber,” the servant said and bowed. After a moment of hesitation, he handed Korbin a key. “Please understand. We were following Dul Tarsten’s orders. We didn’t know what else to do.”

Korbin accepted the key. The servants had locked Graiphen in his room? “I understand,” he said, but he didn’t. The hairs on his neck stood up. What was Tarsten up to? Korbin walked down the final corridor alone. His mind spun with unwelcome thoughts.

When he arrived, he touched the door handle. It was indeed locked. He slipped the key inside and opened the door. Inside, the room was dark, the lamp on the table at its lowest setting.

“Father?” he called softly.

“Korbin?” Graiphen’s muted voice sounded from the adjacent dressing room.

Korbin approached the table and adjusted the lamp, the light banishing the long shadows. He glanced toward the doorway. The head manservant hovered outside. Softly, he closed the door to the corridor.

Korbin waited until the servant’s footfalls retreated down the corridor before approaching the dressing room. Inside, he found Graiphen gathering clothing and putting it in neat stacks.

“Good, boy, you’re here.”

The tone was so contrary to what Korbin had expected that he stood dumbly.

Graiphen raised his chin and met Korbin’s gaze. “They gave you the key, I hope?”

“Yes.” Korbin reached for the pocket where he’d slipped the key.

“This is bordering on treason,” Graiphen said with a grumble. “Imprisoning the head of the Council of Eight. I wouldn’t have given Tarsten credit for such nerve.” His eyes were sharp and clear, showing none of the uncertainty or frenzy he had on Korbin’s last visit. “I can’t find my travelling bag.”