33. Warlords
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Warlords
Liadan walked ahead of Cassiel and me, leading the path through the winding tunnel system. The cave’s layout was more and more impressive the deeper we went. Thick beams supported the intricate tunnels, with various columns along the path.
Cassiel had taken the news about Warlords better than I had anticipated. He almost seemed contemplative. I could not imagine what he could possibly be thinking. For his entire existence he had been told he was one of four left of his kind.
“Liadan, there is something I have wondered about. This stone, is it how you crossed the threshold from Oro?”
He slowed to face me. “Yes.”
“So it belongs to you. Why then did you give it to the Resistance?”
He smiled wryly. “When I arrived at Sycarious, those to help me were connected to the Resistance. After a short time here, I recognized the same sort of.” He paused and looked at Cassiel.
“Leadership. So I decided to be of some use. After all, being an officer in Oro had gained me nothing.” He chuckled, eyeing my shock.
Liadan turned, and we continued on our way.
“Years of service had led to nothing but betrayal.”
The path led us around a circular walkway that opened into a chamber at the end. One of the men who had held a sword toward us upon our arrival leaned beside the door. Upon seeing Liadan, they clapped hands in a brisk clasp of greeting.
“Do not let anyone in.”
The man saluted him by touching his fingers to his temple and sweeping them outward. Liadan waited for us to go in. The man watched us enter, aggression in the line of his body. His nostrils flared, and he sniffed audibly.
Cassiel bared his teeth in a sneer.
“Back up, Jude,” Liadan snapped. Jude’s almost black eyes flicked up to Cassiel and his lips thinned. He shrugged and held up his hands, taking large steps back.
Cassiel’s front pressed against me as he crowded me inside. Liadan shut the door. I strode to stand across the desk Morak sat behind. Morak met my eyes. They softened a bit from the chips of ice they were when looking at Cassiel.
“And the Sanguine Stone?” I went directly to the point. I wanted to be done with my curiosity.
He continued studying me. “Liadan told me you found the information in the passage of the Lore of Old.” He laced his fingers on the desk. “This text is incredibly valuable if it is as you say, and as such, should be held somewhere safe. Just as the Stone has been safe.”
Was he attempting to bargain with me?
Cassiel scoffed. “You need us more than we need you, mortal.”
I tensed, my insides rebelling at hearing the insulting tone to the ‘mortal’. How he used to refer to me. I cleared my throat.
“I do not mind handing it over, but I must first finish the translation.” I paused. “And I want to see the Sanguine Stone.”
“Sanguine,” he mouthed, and nodded resolutely. “I will show it to you, but I cannot let you keep it.”
“I understand.”
Morak reached under his desk until he came out with a wooden box. He set it on the desk’s surface with a thump. With ease, he popped it open. Within the velvet casing was a stone. Small red flecks throughout the clear, crystallized insides.
I reached to grab it, and the warm weight settled on my hand.
It was heavier than I had thought. I held the stone to the light; through its darkened surface, my hand showed faintly.
Where the gas lamp caught the surface, the crimson specks within seemed to stand out.
Vague as ever, the grimoire had told me too little of how this was meant to work. I turned toward Liadan.
If the eye rings scarlet, the old power dwells within.
It is clear that the stone would show if a blueblood has the potential to be a Warlord.
“May I press this to your skin?” I asked Liadan.
His eyebrows furrowed, and he stretched his arm out, tugging the sleeve to expose his wrist. Cassiel was almost on top of me with how close he leaned. I pressed the surface to Liadan’s wrist.
We all waited with bated breath.
Nothing.
I scowled and moved the rock about his wrist while peering into his irises. Still nothing.
“Maybe it must be awakened,” I muttered. I turned my head to meet Cassiel’s gaze. He hovered a pace away, watching closely.
“Do you recall seeing something like this from Lord Vaner? Your mother mentioned he checked you for Warlord potential.”
Cassiel continued staring at it. He shook his head as the corners of his lips tipped down.
Whom the stone does not crown was never meant to wake.
Perhaps Liadan was not one with potential. I turned the thought over in my head, the grimoire’s lines circling my thoughts. Unless it must be activated.
“I need a blade,” I announced. Blood held meaning, and perhaps that was how it would draw out what it must. Morak neared and offered it.
“Liadan, cut your skin,” I said. Liadan took it and I kept the stone in hand. “If this does work, you may be a viable Warlord.”
I pressed the stone to the slice made across his forearm. Blue welled in a thin line. The stone warmed in my hand upon the blue blood touching it. I raised my eyes to his. He watched me without any reaction. Yet, a thin red line rimmed his iris, right where the blue met the pupil.
My shoulders relaxed. I had been right. Now we knew who could be a Warlord. Liadan continued jumping from one face to the other.
“A red rim crowned his pupil,” I explained for Liadan’s sake.
Morak hissed a breath out. “This changes things,” Morak whispered. “How do we Awaken him?” He turned toward me.
It was so fast and abrupt that his approach had me stumbling back. Cassiel hissed, moving before me to grab the collar of his linen shirt.
Morak held both hands up, mouth pinched. “Apologies, Your Highness.”
‘He’s seen reason. He needs us.’ Of course Cassiel took the opportunity to make his point.
Morak’s grin was vicious. “We can change the tides.”
Liadan caught on quickly, and he looked at me, then at Cassiel. “Do you recall Awakening?”
“No,” Cassiel said, frowning.
“I am sure it is in the grimoire.”
“Keep reading,” Morak ordered. He peered at Cassiel and straightened, running his hand down his chest. “Apologies.” Cassiel rested his hand on my shoulder. “I will speak to the Elders about how we will proceed,” Morak announced.
“Elders?” I asked hesitantly.
“It is how we lead in the Resistance. A collection of Elders will vote on a decision.” He must have seen the concern on my face. “It is not only bluebloods. Redbloods have a say.”
The council members were advisors to Cassiel . . . but they had been the ones driving their plans forth. Would this method of decision-making differ?
Shouting came from the other side of the door.
A deep voice rang out. “Morak, that girl wants to come in.”
Morak seemed to know exactly who he spoke of because he rubbed his face with a sigh. “Let her in.”
“Lucinda,” I breathed as the door opened and I saw who stood beyond it.
She strode inside, her skirt fluttering about her legs.
“Thank Saints you sent them to find us.” I kept my hands to myself to not reach for her.
“Had your mother told you what would happen? Is that why you sent them to find us at the estate?”
“Yes,” she announced, stopping before me. From her stride, I expected her to pass me by.
Her panther wraithling entered and edged to the side of the study. She angled her head to Morak. She shuffled from foot to foot, eyes darting about.
“Are you . . .”
Lucinda grabbed my arm, stopping the words. “Will you speak to me in private for a moment?” She dragged me after her, near to her wraithling.
“Lucinda,” I muttered.
“Amara,” she retorted and faced me. “Do not mention my mother or what she was.”
I frowned. “What?”
“It was not mother who told me of what was happening. I have been having dreams.” Her lips pursed. She seemed almost frightened.
“Are you becoming . . .” I trailed off, not finishing the last bit. If she was to be the next prophet, it could change things for the better.
“I believe so,” she croaked. “Yes, but they believe it is simply instructions from my mother.” She shook her head. “She never told me this would happen.”
“I thought the gift was only for bluebloods,” I pushed the question out from my tight throat.
“It must be a hereditary gift like Alchemy.”
“If the council—if Vaner—had known this, he would not have forced her to keep moving hosts.”
“I agree,” Lucinda said grimly.
“She must have known, but kept it to herself to protect you.” For all her evasiveness, the prophet’s goal to protect her daughter had been clear.
Lucinda swallowed loudly. “I do not want this known. After all my mother has done to help you, will you not speak of it?”
I nodded. It was easy to agree to. No one needed the information, and if the time came where I must speak on it, I would deal with it then.
“Good,” she exhaled. With a curt nod, she turned and left as quickly as she had arrived.
Morak, Liadan, and Cassiel remained standing where we had left them. I rubbed my eyes.
“She needs rest,” Cassiel announced and curled his arm around my waist.
“Fine,” Morak said, rubbing his chin. “We will continue our discussion after you rest, Lady Draven.”
He guided me from the chamber. We crossed Jude and he entered as we left.
“Do you believe what that girl said to you?”
“She does not have reason to lie. Anyway, if not for her, we would never have found the Resistance.”
He hummed, and we walked in contemplative silence.