24. Krait
Chapter 24
Krait
W hen I came down for an early dinner before the council meeting, Ryn and Elsedora were sitting beside each other in the dining room. Sprawled across the table was a stained and filthy vellum that looked older than me. It was a map with Brennax and Phynx cities inked upon it.
They were bickering about something and pointing to parts of the world.
“This would be where Helos sits now,” El said.
When the two of them put their heads together, they made a good team. There were also moments of catastrophic disagreement that made me want to send them to opposite sides of the realm.
I mused, “Those are hopeful faces.”
Elsedora blurted, “Caym has someone new doing his bidding.”
“Explain,” I ground out, still in a piss-poor mood after having pushed Sybilla away in the library—in an even worse mood because the moment replayed like a tune stuck in my head.
“Well, we always suspected Mattock and Stygian were under Caym’s influence—Firose too. But we’ve never found evidence to link them all together. We think that the envoys bear a mark. Look.”
Elsedora gently spun the ancient map in my direction. She pointed at a familiar symbol—three skulls with a triangle intersecting them. The hairs on my arms stood.
“It moves…” Elsedora’s eyes followed as the mark moved very slowly through what would be the city of Helos.
I narrowed my gaze on the page.
“It was on the dagger those men used on Sybilla,” El continued.
I nodded. She’d been so cagey about that damned dagger.
“I recognized it immediately. It was also carved into the belongings of those we suspected to be harvesting Death for Caym,” El said. “When Firose grabbed me in the fray at the battle of Luz, I saw this symbol engraved on a golden ring she wore. I thought it odd because—”
It snapped into place. I knew where I’d seen that symbol. I cut in, “Stygian had this inked on his arm.”
Mentioning my former Commander, the man who’d betrayed me and led my troops on a Death rampage through Phynx, made me grind my teeth. I hoped he rotted amongst the worms.
“Then it is connected to Caym. I saw it on Corric Mattock’s crown as well. Which was what I was about to say before being interrupted,” El huffed.
Isolde’s tomes were infuriatingly vague, but they had mentioned Caym often acted through others—envoys. With Isolde’s Reverist power, even while trapped and most of the power out of his reach, Caym could influence those most vulnerable. Those angry or seeking purpose…
Like a North Corridor King who wore a crown he seemed not to want and who had been jilted by a Queen he had been loyal to.
Elsedora’s leg bounced, and it wiggled the table. Ryn grabbed her knee and rubbed it to calm her in a way that was far too familiar. I would ask about that development later.
“If they are all dead, then there must be a new envoy…one in Helos,” Ryn concluded, pointing at the mark on the map.
It seemed we were all avoiding saying Emmerick’s name.
“Could Caym be controlling more than one envoy again?” El asked. She looked down at the single symbol on the map with a furrowed brow. “It seemed that both Firose and Stygian were under his influence at once…maybe the late Mattock, too.”
“Possibly.” I sighed. “ Where did you find this? And how do you know the symbol was on Corric’s crown?”
“I saw it in a tomb beneath Helos; that’s where I found this. Obviously. Keep up,” Elsedora answered. “There was also a memorandum, but I’ll need one of you to use an opening charm on it.” She retrieved a smoothed triangle-shaped black stone with gold etchings of the sun carved into it from her pocket.
I stifled a growl of frustration. “What were you doing in the catacombs of Helos?” El had a habit of going above and beyond on her information-gathering missions. She’d taken many detours through the years.
“Do you just pay me to look pretty?” she retorted.
I scoffed. “No, but being paid requires that you keep living.”
“Don’t question my methods.” El flipped her dusty braid over her shoulder and waved away my concern.
“You really are going to get yourself killed someday,” Ryn said. “We won’t always be there to Source-wield you out of things.”
“Quit dreaming of getting rid of me,” El said and stuck her tongue out. Ryn attempted to grab it, and El tried to bite his finger.
I reached up to squeeze the bridge of my nose, amazed that two of the brightest minds in the realm could default to acting like children when put in the same room together.
El sobered and looked past me as I placed my palms on the table.
“Asterie thinks that the Sun and Star Origins bargained with Death,” Sybilla cut in from the doorway to the dining room, seeming unsure about whether to enter.
We’d been too busy bickering to hear her footfall. She hovered there, now dressed in her heavy finery, ready to attend the next council meeting.
Elsedora pointed to Sybilla. “See. The Book of Isolde warns that Death will rise through such bargains.”
“That tells us nothing. We always knew he would rise,” I said, losing my patience.
I eyed Sybilla, motioning with my chin for her to join us. She wore an impractical Luz-blue velvet gown, and a flush from the heat had already spread across her chest. The dress hugged her body in a way that held my attention. Though it seemed anything she wore did that.
“Good afternoon.” Ryn rose to pull out a chair for her and then took one of her hands to plop a kiss on the top of it as he helped her sit. Kiss ass.
Sybilla seemed grateful for it. “At least one of the men in this residence has manners. What’s with the dusty old map?”
Ryn straightened and scratched his head as Elsedora filled in the gaps of what Sybilla had missed—of the map and the memorandum. As Sybilla’s eyes landed on the symbol, her shoulders tensed.
“Are you going to tell me now why that symbol makes your skin crawl?” I asked.
Sybilla held my gaze. “Because when Caym infiltrated my mind…” She swallowed hard. “I saw King Mattock give that dagger to a cloaked figure, instructing him to bring it to Sahlmkar. It had that symbol on it. I think the blood it drew allowed him to pull me away from Asterie.” Her fingertips traced the healing cut on her cheek.
My jaw grew stiff. “The late Mattock?”
She shook her head, and it infuriated me to see her blink back tears. But there it was—she’d finally confided in us, and yet it still burned to see her distraught over what her former lover had done.
Ryn carefully said, “If Death truly bargained with the Sun and Star Origins, if he is gaining strength, we have to find a way to slow him down. It seems he’s using the envoys to harvest Death—he has been since the Great Wars.” As Ryn spoke, Sybilla grew more tense.
“To do what exactly?” Sybilla asked.
I drew in a deep breath. “He could take his true form through the Death harvested from his envoys. If he has done that, which is likely, he will have years to walk among us and gain momentum, to kill, before he gains Isolde’s powers back as the prophecy says he will.”
I shifted in my seat; we danced dangerously close to truths I hadn’t yet told Sybilla.
“The same prophecy that includes me?” Sybilla asked.
Elsedora narrowed her gaze on me. “Yes, Krait. How is Sybilla involved in Isolde’s prophecy again?”
I could’ve let my Shadows wring Elsedora’s neck.
“I’ve already told her. The Book of Isolde names the Last Daughter of Isleen as a key to ending Death’s final reign.”
Ryn’s mouth narrowed into a line. This wasn’t how I’d wanted to break the full meaning to her.
“Ah yes, that’s what it was.” Elsedora’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Sybilla’s brows knitted as she homed in on Elsedora with a tilt of her head. I held my breath, realizing that without Source magic, Elsedora was a living, breathing liability to my withheld truths.
“You are singing limericks internally, which makes me feel like you’re keeping something from me,” Sybilla mused as she patted Elsedora on the hand. “I’ll make you tell me later.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Can you two open this memorandum now?” Elsedora asked.
She set the obsidian stone down on the table. Glancing at Sybilla, I explained, “A memorandum is created by someone, usually before death, to document last words or wisdom or a message for their loved ones.”
Sybilla nodded. “I’ve heard of them from Asterie but have never seen one.”
“I’ve got it.” Ryn cut the tip of his finger and let his blood drop into the engraved sun symbol that adorned the stone. He then whispered a Phynnic charm. As soon as he’d finished, a ray of light shot straight up from the stone, like shimmering gold dust.
“I do not have much time,” the late Mattock rasped; his weak voice filled the room. His face, suspended in golden light, shone above us. “My dear Amara—you are my light on the darkest days. Keeping you and our boy afar has destroyed me.
“I must warn you. The Death Origin rises. He is within me. There are three of us who do his bidding. He grows stronger with every death at our hands. Firose is also in his grasp—do not blame her, my dear. She tries to ward him away when he overtakes me, but she has grown weak against him too.
“When we’re gone, he will replace us. None of us can kill the other. It is a hopeless web he has woven. You must find them all and kill them all at once to deny him a chance to take another.”
Mattock senior coughed and cleared his throat. “I hope it is not too late. Knowing you are safe has kept me strong, but I fear fighting Death has taken its toll on me. I’m so sorry, my love.”
The light flickered out. My hands trembled from how tightly I clung to the edge of the table. When I looked over at Sybilla, tears were falling.
We could delay the inevitable, but our time ran thin.
“I must tell Emmerick,” Sybilla said.
“Not a chance. He sent a weapon that nearly killed you. He is likely an envoy, Sybilla.”
“It cannot be him…Maybe Caym tricked me. Maybe Em is in danger,” she tried.
She could justify it however she wanted—I wasn’t going to see her killed over puppy love and a false sense of loyalty. I turned to El and said, “Continue to pay the North King visits until we know where the threat comes from. All signs point to Helos being a hub for Caym’s envoys.”
Sybilla huffed indignantly, eyes darting between us.
El kicked back in her chair. “Gladly. He’s fun to look after.” She offered Sybilla a playful wink, which I loathed. Sybilla seemed too distraught to react.
Sybilla’s head snapped in my direction. “Emmerick would not send those men.”
Ryn was the one to reach across the table this time. I wanted to let my Shadows pry his fingers away before he could touch her. He took Sybilla’s hand. “My Queen, he would not. But if Caym has infiltrated his mind, he may not know what he is doing...We are only trying to keep you safe, to take precautions”
She pulled her hand from his and placed it at her throat. “That implies that I am unsafe with Emmerick, and that cannot be further from the truth.” She shook her head. “He cannot be. He—”
“We hope he is not an envoy, but you aren’t to step foot in that city until we know for sure,” I commanded. “And if you see that symbol on any person’s belongings, you run or prepare to fight because your life will depend on it.”
I hated the callous command to my voice, hated how Sybilla grimaced and glared because of it. Ryn and Elsedora nodded in agreement, though they, too, looked unsure.
“Do you think this map tracks where they are? It’s suddenly in the South Corridor isles. Maybe they traveled through an Egress?” El speculated.
“We could hunt them down,” Ryn added. I desperately wished my advisors were less good at their jobs.
Sybilla eyed me and spat, “You will not kill him. None of you.” Her tone turned more pleading than I’d ever heard it before. “Promise me.”
Ryn glanced at me. “We cannot promise that.”
Sybilla pushed out her chair and stood. “Then at least promise you will wait until there is actual proof that Em is an envoy. Not some fucking symbol from a piss-stained map and the word of a dead man.”
“If all must fall at once, we’d need to know who the others are first,” I cut in. “No one is being killed today. We don’t act on impulse.”
She looked slighted and flushed. I’d done my best to repress our earlier encounter in the library; now I’d gone and revealed it still lingered in my mind.
“How could I forget,” she said and then stormed out of the dining room.
Ryn asked, “What was that about?”
“None of your damned business,” I retorted.
Before we left for Eros, I headed up the bell tower to light the candles, only after having checked our bedchamber door. Locked.
VII. Willful