Chapter 1 #2
A pang lit in Amryn’s chest. Argent had survived so much, only to be killed here at Esperance by Tam, a rebel who betrayed them all.
They had yet to find Argent’s body, but Amryn knew the prince was gone.
Not only had Tam stabbed him in the side, but he’d also been poisoned.
When Amryn had channeled the bloodstone’s power, she’d reached out with her empathic sense to try and find him so she could heal him, too.
But while she’d felt Tam, she hadn’t sensed Argent. That could only mean one thing.
He was already dead.
Everyone else believed Argent might yet be alive. Jayveh was fierce in her belief that her husband was simply Tam’s captive. Amryn wished she could tell her friend the truth. False hope was such a painful thing.
Carver leaned forward, drawing her back to the present moment. “What are the bloodstones?” he asked Felinus again.
“Weapons,” the older man said. “Powerful, unnatural weapons that some empaths learned to harness. The lore is hazy, but it’s said the stones were created by unholy means, and that they grant extraordinary power to the empath who wields them.
Enough power that an empath might be able to kill hundreds in an instant, or so the rumors say.
” His eyes slid to Amryn. “If there is one thing I know, it’s that the bloodstones are inherently evil. You must not use it again.”
A shiver tracked down her spine. In truth, she had no desire to use the bloodstone again.
Even tucked away, she could feel the hum of its presence in the other room.
A slow pulse. Almost like a heartbeat. She remembered the power that had flooded her when she’d clung to the glowing amulet last night.
The insidious voice in her mind that whispered she could do anything.
Everything. It had been the same voice that had infiltrated her mind, pushing back her own thoughts to thunder: AWAKE.
Just the memory of that word—that voice—made her shudder.
She didn’t know what she’d awoken in the bloodstone, but she knew Felinus was right. It was intrinsically evil, and unspeakably dangerous.
“I won’t use it again,” she assured Felinus.
She immediately felt Carver’s swell of relief. He’d already secured her promise not to use the bloodstone again, but he clearly appreciated hearing her make the same promise to Felinus.
She squeezed his hand in silent reassurance, and she felt a thrill when he returned the gesture.
“Good,” Felinus said. “But we must do more than ignore the bloodstone. We must ensure it can never be used again, by anyone. We must destroy it.”
“How?” Carver asked.
Felinus’s narrow shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, I don’t know.”
Carver’s eyebrows pulled together. “That’s not exactly helpful, Cleric.”
“I’m well aware, General.”
“Can’t we just bury it somewhere?” Carver asked. “Or throw it in the ocean?”
“No. Hiding it won’t be effective. As it called to Amryn, it will surely call to other empaths.”
Sudden insight struck, and Amryn straightened. “You think someone hid the bloodstone in that cave on Zawri.”
“Yes. And that only reiterates my point. Attempting to hide the bloodstone should be our last resort, because anything hidden—no matter how well—can be found.” Lines deepened across his brow. “I need to study the bloodstones. The answer we need could be hiding somewhere in Esperance’s library.”
“Take all the time you want,” Carver said. “We’ll leave the bloodstone with you.”
Amryn’s stomach pitched. At the same moment, she felt the bloodstone in the bedroom flare with rage. The dark and immediate reaction made all the fine hairs on her body lift.
“I’m afraid that would be a terrible idea,” Felinus said, unaware of the bloodstone’s anger—or Amryn’s own alarming reaction to the thought of leaving the amulet behind.
“Why?” Carver demanded.
“Because knights are coming to Esperance. They’ll be searching the temple for anything unnatural. The bloodstone is a weapon they must not find.”
“But the bloodstone amplifies the power of an empath,” Carver pointed out. “It would be useless to a knight.”
“A weapon that dangerous is never truly useless.” Felinus hesitated, then said slowly, “And it would not be useless to them, because the knights don’t kill every empath they find.”
Amryn froze.
Beside her, Carver went rigid. “Are you saying the knights capture empaths? That they imprison them?”
Felinus’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”
Carver’s grip on Amryn’s hand tightened. She felt his low burning fury as he asked, “For what purpose?”
The cleric met Carver’s stare, unblinking. But Amryn felt his swell of shame. She supposed it was easier for him to address Carver, rather than her, as he said, “You can guess the reason.”
The horrible truth hung between them, growing darker and more heinous with each new breath.
Amryn spoke the words neither man seemed capable of forming. “They hurt them.”
“Yes,” Felinus confirmed.
A dark tension rose in Carver, accompanied by a cold dread that made Amryn’s stomach roll. But just as suddenly as those emotions had arisen, he shoved them ruthlessly down.
She didn’t know how he did that. How he shielded himself so completely.
“The younger knights don’t know,” Felinus said, his voice quiet.
“When I learned the truth . . .” His hands rolled to fists on his knees, and he finally looked at Amryn.
His sorrow, grief, and guilt slammed into her.
He had already told her he’d left the Order when he realized how monstrous they could be, but he still said, “I could not condone anything I saw in the highest parts of the Tower. The tortures are beyond cruel, and the knights who hurt the empaths are more than sadistic. They torture them for information—to get them to betray other empaths—but they also torture them as a form of experimentation.”
Revulsion twisted inside Amryn, making her stomach swirl with nausea.
Carver cursed, low and harsh. The maelstrom of emotions he felt nearly overwhelmed her. “The emperor wouldn’t condone such a thing,” he said through his teeth. “He must not know what they’re doing.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t know the details,” Felinus agreed.
“The Order doesn’t answer to him, but to the Holy Superior, Highest Cleric Jeremiah.
Everything is done under his direction.” The skin around his eyes tightened.
“My point is, if the knights found the bloodstone, they would have empaths who could wield it. Empaths who are so broken down, they would be perfect vessels for the knights to control.”
Bile rose up Amryn’s throat. She had known the knights were killers, but this cruelty was unfathomable.
Tears stung her eyes as she thought about those poor souls and what they suffered at the hands of the knights.
She knew of the Dark Tower in Daersen; it was located near the headquarters of the church.
The stronghold of the knights was supposed to be made of the blackest stone.
It was where the knights lived and trained.
The knowledge that empaths were kept there—tortured there—was horrific. Evil.
“The bloodstone must not fall into their hands,” Felinus said firmly. “Instinct tells me the bloodstone is so evil, it cannot fall into the hands of anyone with the ability to wield it.” He eyed Amryn. “Not even you should possess it. Not even to keep it safe.”
Another throb from the hidden bloodstone made Amryn stiffen. She’d known the stone was alive, at least in some sense. It had awakened, after all. Spoken to her. But was the bloodstone actually reacting to their spoken words, or was it somehow tied to Amryn’s thoughts and fears?
She supposed it didn’t matter in the end. She knew without a doubt the bloodstone was dangerous. Just as she knew she was somehow tied to it—even though she didn’t want to be. The thought of using it again frightened her. But the prospect of losing it . . .
Her very being revolted against the idea. And that was terrifying.
She swallowed hard. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t be the bloodstone’s keeper.”
Carver’s thumb slid gently along hers, the softness of that motion at odds with the tightness in his voice as he said, “Agreed.” His eyes narrowed on Felinus. “If you don’t want us to hide it, and you refuse to take it, what exactly are we supposed to do with it?”
“For now, you are in the best position to act as its caretaker.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Felinus said, calm in the face of Carver’s incredulity.
“You can safeguard the bloodstone better than anyone else. Your reputation alone might keep it hidden, as no one would suspect you had such a dangerous relic in your possession. And if it is discovered, you have the skills to defend against any who would try to take it from you.”
Amryn knew Carver didn’t like it, but he eventually grunted. “Fine. I’ll guard the cursed thing.”
“Good,” the old cleric said. “Meanwhile, I’ll scour Esperance’s vast library for any information regarding the bloodstones. Hopefully, I can learn how to destroy one.”
“I may have something that can help,” Amryn said. “When I was going through Murdon Savin’s things in the archives, I found a journal that belonged to Saul Von. It’s been heavily studied by Savin. His notes tried to make sense of Von’s writings, but everything is rather chaotic.”
Interest sparked in Felinus. “May I see the journal?”
Amryn reluctantly pulled away from Carver so she could retrieve the book from the other room. She felt the tension rise between the two men as she left, so she hurried to return.
She placed the pocket-sized volume in Felinus’s hands, her own palms still feeling the ghost of the worn leather cover. She reclaimed her seat beside Carver, her hands clasped together as she leaned forward. “I’ve read most of it, but I haven’t been able to make much sense of it. Perhaps you can.”
Felinus lifted the scuffed cover and studied the first page.