Chapter 58
Zogar
My queen has forgiven her young lover, or at least she’s accepted his explanation. I have not.
Saxon, too, seems willing to accept the young man’s story, especially after seeing a scroll which would have freed him from that dungeon.
Useless document. I took care of that.
Rosomon is chatting with Tynan under a cluster of trees not more than a wingspan away from me.
She asked me not to listen to their conversation, but I’m finding it difficult to adhere to her wishes.
Saxon is also watching them carefully, and it’s possible he’s using his enhanced hearing.
Stag-shifters have heightened senses, even in human form.
The woman Rosomon calls Nurse confirmed the parts of Tynan’s story she could, but he probably gave her gold to do this, something he seems to have copious amounts of.
Another indication he’d embraced life at the Khotori court.
Most of my hoard, the parts I managed to bring back to the Light, is hidden in the Draconveil Valley.
We’ve agreed that Rosomon’s brothers should not accompany us to Catha. For one thing, they have no dragons to ride. The older one suggested we fetch more dragons from camp for them to ride, but Rosomon vetoed that idea before I could even point out that it wasn’t possible.
She wants to shield them from danger, but Alfryd’s assumption that any dragon would accept him on her pommel is beyond arrogant. I would never order one of my people to do so.
The prideful Alfryd also believes he’s now King of Achotia.
I didn’t contradict him. Especially not after Rosomon appealed to his overblown sense of importance to convince him to stay behind.
She suggested he should remain close to the Achotian castle, so he can more quickly seize command once the current sovereign is toppled.
Nurse claims to have a safe place in the nearby village to hide the young princes, and both Rosomon and her brothers have agreed to this plan.
Keeping my eyes on Rosomon and Tynan, I join Saxon who’s removed his copious facial hair, using a blade provided by Tynan.
“What’s your plan when we arrive in Catha?” I ask. Saxon claims he can guarantee an audience with Othrix, but has explained very little. “What do you think we’ll face there?”
Keeping his eyes trained on Rosomon and Tynan, Saxon shakes his head.
“I can’t be certain. I’ve only been in the Temple of Othrix once, and I was a very small boy.
But I don’t think that Othrix is a manticore.
The creature I saw on the altar was much larger and more ferocious than what you’ve described. ”
“You were a boy,” I say. “Also, they could be using illusions.”
“Who would be creating illusions?” Saxon’s brow furrows as he turns toward me. “You said manticores have few powers.”
“And you said the klericks are mages.”
Saxon tips his head to the side. His gaze flicks toward me for an instant, before returning its focus to Rosomon. “I said that most klericks showed signs of Darkness, at least when they were boys. I didn’t say they were mages.”
“They are mages.” My eyes narrow. “There is no other explanation.”
And as King of all Mages, these klericks will obey me or pay the consequences.
These rogue mages will drop this false god facade, and once their hypocrisy is unmasked and their religion toppled, I will ensure the former sovereigns retake their rightful thrones.
I will reform the true council and restore the founding principles—or perhaps amended ones, as Rosomon keeps insisting.
Since my wife will be one of these sovereigns, I will defer to her on this matter.
I smile softly. Her brother thinks he is king, but the rules of succession in the founding principles did not exclude women. My wife, my love, is not only Queen of the Dragons and all Mages, she is also Queen of Achotia.
Saxon leans against a tree trunk. “If you’re right, and the klericks are mages, were they responsible for trapping you behind the veil?”
My eyes narrow. “I have theories but am not yet certain.”
“Care to share these theories?” Saxon pushes off the tree. “The more we all know, the easier it will be to expose the hypocrisy and discredit the klericks—and Othrix.”
I nod. Saxon does have a point. And speaking my theory aloud may help me sort out some details.
“Manticores did not have many powers,” I tell Saxon, “but they did have their uses.”
“Like what?”
“Their blood.”
His eyes widen.
“It is said that drinking the blood of a manticore—a living manticore—amplifies the powers of other superi—including basic mages.”
“What’s a basic mage?”
I shift my stance. “They now call themselves rootbound mages.” I resist my urge to growl, remembering the role these mages played in what happened to Rosomon.
“Basic mages can’t shift forms.” I shake my head.
“That’s not entirely accurate. They can use illusions to temporarily alter their appearances, but it’s not the same as what we shifters can do.
” My chest broadens. “And while those illusions may trick humans, anyone with access to Darkness can easily see through a basic mage’s illusion. ”
Studying Saxon, I realize that he and I are far more similar than I imagined. His magic is still wildly underdeveloped, but as a shifter, he’s one of my subjects. And since he crossed the veil, Darkness shimmers more strongly inside him.
“You said you have a plan to get us before Othrix?”
He nods. “I’m working on one. And based on what you’ve just told me, my plan’s becoming clearer.”
“Do you care to share this plan?” I glare at him.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want Rosomon to know the details,” he says. “She might try to stop me.”
“Is my name Rosomon?” I glare at him.
Grinning, he bumps my shoulder with his. “No, but I’m well aware that you don’t keep secrets from her.”