Chapter 44 #2
Their bodies kept breathing, hearts still beating. But their souls were gone.
They became empty vessels. Voids in human skin. Another type of undead.
What was left behind was a husk that mimicked the living.
They spoke in fragments, echoed the dead, and wandered aimlessly killing until their minds rotted entirely.
Or evil spirits slipped through, taking residence in the body, wearing the face of the person you once loved.
Either way, there was only one mercy left to give them.
Mother never allowed it to get that far.
The moment she felt her soul fading, she ended her life.
She jumped into the silver fires of Mount Luuienaire, giving what was left of her soul back to her people.
But not before giving a rare potion that could have extended her life by another hundred years to my sister.
No one knew Zyrra had the blight, too. She didn't want to worry us. We were all so focused on my mother, we never noticed her symptoms. Until this day, none of us had been able to figure out where they'd contracted the disease.
How strange that I would go to the Luminar festival to be reminded so much of the mother I no longer had, the wish I never got, the family that used to be. And now here I was, being reminded of them again.
I looked back at Marcus and saw the pain beyond the bruises and betrayal. I'd watched the blight consume my mother. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to watch a baby suffer through that pain.
“How old is your child?” The question scraped past my lips.
“Not even a year, my Lord,” Marcus whispered. “I haven't got the means to get her potions. I was promised that if I helped the rebel cause, they would help me. They have been helping me and my little girl.”
The ruthless side of me was furious with him. It wanted to kill him for his betrayal and withholding useful information that could have stopped so much pain and loss. But something unexpected happened to me as I stared at Marcus.
I heard her voice in my head—Elariya.
I heard her telling me there are other things that keep your soul alive. Peace, happiness, compassion, love. Marcus was fighting for all four. Not for himself. For his little girl.
If I were in his shoes, I'd have done the same. No matter the cost.
With a wave of my hand, I restored my face to its usual form, saving Death for another day, then I looked at Alaric. “Arrange for the Galdrmester to visit Marcus' home and attend to the baby. Sign off whatever treatment he recommends and tell him I'll pay for whatever it costs.”
Alaric seemed stunned at first, but then he appeared to understand.
“My Lord...” Marcus mumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You would help me?”
“I'm doing it for your baby.” He wouldn't understand my reasons. No one but family, close friends, and the royal healers knew about my mother's condition.
“A million thanks, Your Grace.” That was the third time this week I'd been called by that title.
Each utterance of those words fed the beast within me. Those who honored me with the title saw their king in me, even cursed as I was. Even broken. Their loyalty was a blade I would wield when the time came.
“May the Gods always bless you.” Marcus nodded with conviction. “I offer a thousand pardons for my wrongs, though I care not what you do to me. I broke my oaths for my child.”
I stepped back, composing my mind, the sternness in my expression returning. “Your service in the Guard has been terminated. You are sentenced to work in the salt mines for five years, with immediate effect.”
“The salt mines?” Disbelief flickered across his face. Bastian and Alaric had the same look. They all knew the punishment should be greater. The punishment for these crimes was normally death by execution to set an example.
“Yes.” This was as far as my compassion went. Working in the salt mines would allow him to still see his child.
The slivershade's attack was more aggressive with children. With the best potions, his daughter might live for another five years. I wouldn't be the one to rob them of that time knowing that only death waited for her.
“I can't thank you enough.”
“Do not thank me.” I kept my voice firm and resolute, a reminder that I wasn't doing this for him. “Before you go to the mines, you will take us to the camp at Kyphuus.”
Marcus was nodding before I even finished the command. “Yes, my Lord. I will show you.”
I hoped with everything that this would give us a lead.
But it didn't.
Using the stoneport compass, we arrived at what was supposed to be the camp ten minutes later but found nothing. Just the woodlands, which we searched from top to bottom.
There was nothing here. Nothing we could see. But I felt something.
Something sly in the air that made it heavy.
A metallic taste that coated my tongue, like licking a blade.
The usual forest sounds were muted, as if the very trees held their breath.
Even the damp earth beneath our boots felt different—too soft, too yielding.
The ivy covering the trees gave off an almost sweet fragrance that didn't belong, masking something darker underneath.
I dismissed Marcus and remained in the ivy-covered grove with Bastian and Alaric.
“You feel that, don't you?” I said when I noticed Bastian testing the air.
He faced me. “Dark magic.”
“Indeed. I can taste it.”
“But this doesn't feel like anything I've seen before. This... this is laced with something older.” He closed his eyes and continued searching the air.
I did the same thing, feeling the residual power that left a bitter, acidic taste, but something more lay beneath that was foreign to me. It made my nerves spike. Bastian was right. This was something older.
“I can't determine where it came from,” he added.
“Neither can I,” I said.
“Nor me.” Alaric waved his hand, doing a sweep of the particles in the air.
“There's no magical signature anywhere.” Bastian felt the air again.
No magical signature.
We looked at each other at the same time, then at Alaric, who seemed to have clued into the same conclusion. The last time there'd been mention of something without a magical signature was when Arielle told us about the vortex that took Elariya's father with the ring.
“The vortex that took Elariya's father. Do you think it's linked to this?” Bastian asked.
I narrowed my eyes, thinking about it. “That was five years ago. The rebellion happened after. In response to my father's death.”
“There are a lot of things going on that make no sense, Wolfe,” Alaric pointed out. “So maybe the incidents are linked.”
“If they are then... the rebels were always planning insurgency.” I spoke in a low voice, the pieces of the puzzle swirling around my mind. “Elariya's father may have been part of their plan.”
We exchanged glances.
“It's possible,” Bastian stated. “As we saw today, they got one of our own to turn on us. Why not Elariya's father?”
“You’re right.” It was entirely possible that they were all working together and Elariya’s father being human would make sense to their plan.
Only a human could use the poison that killed my father.
With everything I’ve seen so far, the thinking behind such an idea sounded exactly like something the rebels would do.
The problem was I’d never linked them to my father’s death.
If this was true, did this new finding mean Dreynthor was innocent? It could since the rebels tried to assassinate him with the others they’d killed.
The thought of my uncle’s innocence didn’t sit well with me.
And I wasn’t being a bastard because I despised him.
That gut feeling of his guilt was still there churning inside me.
Until I had proof of his innocence my thoughts remained, even if it was contradictory to this new information.
I felt that sometimes things didn’t make sense because they weren’t supposed to.
If I’d put together a master plan to kill the king of Galaythia I’d make it just as hard for anyone to find me or figure me out.
“What we’re sensing is the remnants of one powerful glamor spell mixed with cloaking,” Alaric offered, squinting into the ivy.
“This is how they've been hiding, and I'm guessing they cleared out when they realized Marcus had been caught. But this kind of magic is beyond the rebels. I can’t imagine them knowing how to create a spell with a signature. It’s too rare a gift. We can’t even do that. Or anyone else we know.”
“Someone of great power is working with them,” I breathed, dread squeezing my insides. “We need to figure out who that is.”
“We do. My guess is something important was going to happen here.” Bastian looked around. “Those herbs must have been meant for some kind of spell. But what? And why?”
“We need to find out what spells use such herbs. And anything else we can uncover to help us piece together what’s going on.”
Gods…the time had come to look into this matter. I’d hoped to find the ring before something like this happened but now it had snuck up on me, demanding my attention. I still needed to find the ring, but if I didn’t act fast this problem would fester and probably grow beyond my control.
We looked at each other, silently acknowledging the situation had grown substantially worse.
Something about this incident felt different. The rebels weren't just one step ahead. They were evolving.
Whatever they were planning, I had the sinking feeling we were already too late to stop it.