The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) (24 page)

“Iliad,” Raven said, spinning back to the old man, “tell me about how the Talismans are turned from Aspects into Talismans. And tell me about what the Aspects were.”

Silence. The man just stared into space. Raven turned to Leah.

“Is he a bit defective sometimes?”

“Have some respect for the man!” Tomaz rumbled, his face drawn into a look of painful grief as he gazed on Iliad. “He gave up his entire life, his entire
mind
, to hold the history of the Kindred and keep safe secrets like the one you just heard.”

“Then why won’t he talk?” Raven asked, frustrated.

“You have to ask very specific questions,” Leah said, “and most of the time you can’t phrase them as statements. Small talk only confuses him, explanations, or anything along that line, are detrimental. Just ask your questions – it may seem offensive, but it’s the only way to get a direct answer.”

“Okay,” said Raven, annoyed and tired, “then you do it.”

Leah stepped up and took his place on the well-worn section of floor.

“What are the Seven Talismans, and how do they pertain to the Seven Aspects?”

“The Seven Talismans are the corrupted forms of the Sevens Aspects.”

“What are the Seven Aspects?”

“Also known as the Seven Virtues, the Aspects are the pure form of the Seven Talismans, used by the Empress of Lucia to rule over the Empire of – ”

“Stop,” she said, holding up a hand, and the Elder fell silent, still staring sightlessly off into space.

“What do the legends say that the Seven Aspects were?”

Raven watched her carefully – would slightly rephrasing the question really give them a better answer?

“The legends say that the Seven Aspects were borne by the Seven Blessed Ones who traveled to this land from across the Sea,” Iliad said, and Raven felt a small thrill go through him. “Each of the Blessed Ones bore one of the Aspects, that which they most exemplified. It is unclear who had which, expect for Aemon, who told the first Elder of History, Elder Herodotus, that the Aspect he wore would become corrupted, and that the only way to turn it and the other Aspects back to their pure purpose was to use what would become the Raven Talisman.”

Iliad lapsed into silence, and they all thought for a moment.

“Did the Aspects do what the Talismans do now?” Tomaz rumbled, watching Iliad carefully, as if afraid of putting too much strain on the man.

“The Talismans’ powers have been inverted by the dark Bloodmagic that touched them,” boomed Iliad before falling silent again.

“What were the original gifts the Aspects gave?” Tomaz asked, stroking his beard absent-mindedly.

“It is unclear from both legend and history what the Aspects’ original purpose was,” he said, and they all let out a small sigh of disappointment.

“Well, so much for trying to figure out why the Ox Talisman isn’t working right,” Raven muttered. Leah grimaced back at him, equally annoyed.

“Can you tell us more about the rumors surrounding the Raven Talisman?” Rumbled Tomaz.
 

“Yes,” Iliad said blankly, and then lapsed into silence.

“Ah – right,” Tomaz said and cleared his throat. “Elder Iliad, tell me everything about the Raven Talisman, starting with the earliest rumors of its powers.”

“The Raven Talisman first came into existence as the Aspect of Life,” said Iliad. “Based on knowledge of Aemon, it can be concluded that its intension is to heal, to give life, and amplify the well-being of those around it.”

Again, Leah held up a hand and told the Elder to stop.

“So the Raven Talisman was originally meant to save life, not take it,” said Leah addressing Raven now, “which must be why when you’re holding Aemon’s Blade, you can heal people, like what you did with Tomaz.”

“It wasn’t like that though,” Raven said, thinking back. “It felt exactly the same as any other time I’ve used the Talisman. I didn’t do anything special, I just tried harder to hang onto the memories. I don’t understand why it happened the way it did – I know Crane says Aemon’s Blade enabled it, but that doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t been able to heal anyone since then, even though I’ve tried.”

“But you
did
heal me,” Tomaz rumbled, “which means that at least once the Raven Talisman reverted back to the Aspect, right?”

“I suppose,” Raven said, still unsure.

“So if the Raven Talisman is the key to turning the Talismans back into Aspects,” Leah said, her brow furrowed in thought, “then shouldn’t the Ox Talisman be the … what … Aspect of Strength?”

“What would the reverse of strength be though?” Tomaz asked. “I mean, it just gives strength doesn’t it?”

Raven shrugged. “Actually, as far as I know, yes. I know a lot about how the Raven works because Geofred explained it to me in detail, but the others guarded their secrets … there are many things none of us knew about each other.”

“Well,” Leah said, “let’s assume it gives strength. The opposite would be it giving weakness? Maybe it makes your opponents weaker?”

“Those Death Watchmen didn’t seem any weaker when they were fighting us,” Raven said grimly, and Tomaz growled his agreement.

“And none of the men we found in the mountains seemed easier to dispatch than normal,” the big man continued.

“There is something that’s bothering me,” Raven said to them. “The fact that Aemon bore the Raven Talisman, or maybe the Aspect of Life, is very much a shock, but the information just doesn’t seem dangerous. I understand it not being a great thing for morale, but
dangerous?
”

“You think there’s something else,” Leah said, watching him. “You think when Crane said Iliad had knowledge only you could have, he meant something deeper.”

He nodded.

Simultaneously they turned to Iliad, who still showed no sign he knew they were present. Raven looked once more into the old man’s eyes and felt, again, his skin begin to crawl. Was this the fate that awaited him if he pushed the limits of the Raven Talisman? Was this his fate if he ever had to give it up?

He pushed those thoughts away and forced himself back to the present.

“What else does he know?” Raven asked, almost to himself. “He knows all of the history of the Kindred – is there anything else?”

“Prophecies,” Tomaz rumbled, the word sounding like thunder, distant and ominous. Raven felt a chill go down his back – prophecy was what had led his Mother to try to kill him.

“Is there a prophecy of the Kindred that you will only reveal to the Prince of Ravens?”

“No,” Iliad whispered.

Raven and Tomaz relaxed, but Leah didn’t. She took a step forward, and Raven could almost see her mind working, gears twirling and whirling like clockwork pieces.

“Is there a prophecy you will only reveal to Aemon’s Heir?”

“Yessssss.”

The word came out as a sigh, and the huge head with the deep, bright eyes, turned, inch by inch, to stare at her.

To Leah’s credit she didn’t move or cry out, though her eyes grew huge, and her hands balled into fists.

“Where is he?” Asked Iliad, staring at her.

Shock crossed her face, and her mouth fell open. And then she pointed to Raven.

The head turned toward him, creaking inch by inch, almost as if it had been stuck so long in one position that it had become rusted with disuse.

Raven took a step back, suddenly fearful. Did he want to know this? Did he truly want to know a prophecy that he might not be able to change?

The ancient mouth opened, and a voice spoke then from beyond the grave, so old that it defied imagining. The man’s withered tongue worked back and forth, trying to form vowels, his lips cracked and smacked as he tried to break in consonants, and finally he spoke:

“Aemon told me that he, as Prince of the Veil, had to entrust me with what the Prophet had told him. He told me only to reveal these words to the man who could hold his sword – only to his Heir, someone who shared his blood and who was pure enough to touch Valerium.”

Raven’s heart was beating quickly, but with dread, not anticipation. He was not pure – he was the son of the Empress. He bore the Raven Talisman, the cursed Talisman that fed off death, the opposite of what Aemon had used it for. There as no one
less
pure than he.

“
And out of the mists a Prince will come, bearing a sword of light. And he will stand, strong, true and tall, and clothed in boundless might. His eyes will see, his feet will run, his soul will know the truth; for in the knowledge of boundless years, he feels the joy of youth. A Veil he wears, and a burden he bears, both help him know their plight; and in the darkness of his soul, he learns to see the light. For when the Exiled know no more, when all their strength is lost, they must turn to him and he will stand and help them pay the cost. His blood will turn the darkness back, ‘twill turn the wrong to right; for in the end, the cursed and torn shall he once more show the light.”

Silence followed this ringing pronouncement, and Raven didn’t know what to say about it. A Prince … and a Veil.

You know another prophecy about that don’t you?
A voiced asked him in the back of his mind.
A prophecy you’ve been told since you were a Child.

Leah was the first to speak, breaking into the silence and his thoughts.

“A Prince … Raven, does it mean you?”

He turned to Leah, who was watching him with a carefully measured intensity. What was she thinking? How would she feel, knowing that he was supposed to be one of their Princes of the Veil?

“Raven,” she continued, still cautiously but with purpose, “I can’t help but think that this means you. Why else would it be for you alone to hear? Why else –?”

Raven held up a hand, and she stopped talking. He turned to Iliad, who was still watching him. Those great blue eyes were desperate, begging him to be someone that he just couldn’t be, and he felt a sneer curl across his face.

They have no idea who I really am. All they have in their head is this ideal, some vision of a redemptive hero. They have no idea what I’ve seen, no idea what I’ve done. And they have no idea of Mother’s might … no one can stand against Her. No Prince, not even all of the Children banded together, could stand a chance against Her. These Exiles all live in a world of fantasy.

“Do you know the Imperial version of that prophecy?” He said out loud.

“Yes,” Iliad said, his head nodding the barest fraction.

“Were you also told to keep this secret – also told it by Aemon?”

“Yes,” Iliad said, sorrow in his eyes, far away but no less intense through the fog of many years.

“Speak it,” he commanded.

“
And out of the mists of time, seventh born of the Empress, shall come a Prince of the Veil. Dark will be his soul, and strong will be his body, and neither, in his need, shall fail. He goes to destroy the Exiled, the weakened and the sick; ravens ride his shoulders and his vengeance follows quick. For in his hands the Blood of Kings shall burn again so bright; and what was lost shall be regained, to seal the Empire’s might.”

Silence rang out as Iliad’s words faded. Both Leah and Tomaz were watching Raven with riveted attention, their looks unreadable.