Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (60 page)

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Authors: Mitchell Hogan

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BOOK: Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence)
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“Chalayan!” said Vasile.

The sorcerer created a shield around him, then expanded it into a dome to cover all three of them. Vasile’s skin tingled and crawled as the sorcery passed over him.

The vormag’s globe slammed against the shield, splattering as if it were made from liquid. The violet sorcery dribbled down the side, and Chalayan laughed.

Vasile looked to the village just as the other two globes hit. Wooden buildings erupted into flame instantly, and splashes of virulent sorcery left trails of fire on the ground.

Across the other side, the bulk of the jukari horde remained alive. They weren’t crossing the bridge, but it was only a matter of time before the vormag forced them across.

Vasile shivered with dread at the forces he’d seen unleashed. “If the Shattering wasn’t enough to destroy the bridge,” he said to Chalayan, “then I don’t see how you thought you’d be able to.”

Chalayan gave him a dark look filled with… hatred? “You were the one to lead me to this sorcery, Magistrate. Look! Look at what I’ve done! And that’s hardly scratching the surface. It’s mine now. In a few months of experimentation, I’ll be ten times more powerful! Imagine what I could do!”

Vasile swallowed and stepped back from the sorcerer. Drunk with his own power, reveling in the destruction, Chalayan had a wild look in his eyes.

“This,” observed Vasile, “was how the Shattering began.”

Chalayan merely laughed at him.

“Aidan and I agreed,” said cel Rau. His blade flashed. One moment it was in its sheath, and the next, cel Rau stood still, his sword and arm extended in a straight line. It was as if the sword had simply appeared there without traveling through the intervening space. A scarlet stain coated the first two inches of the steel.

Chalayan clutched at his throat in a vain attempt to stem the spurting blood. He uttered a bubbling gasp. His eyes rolled into his head, and he collapsed.

Vasile looked on in horror as Chalayan twitched on the ground, blood leaking into the dirt.

“Don’t be afraid, Magistrate. Aidan gave the order. The sorcerer was useful for a time, but his desires got the better of him. He was weak. We could both see it.”

Numbly, Vasile nodded, watching as cel Rau took the craftings and trinket from Chalayan’s corpse.

Mad. These people are all mad.

“Come,” continued cel Rau. “We’ve bought some time, but we should hurry.”

Vasile followed the swordsman’s lead and mounted his horse. They turned and aimed for the dust trail left by the fleeing villagers heading for Riversedge.

As far as Vasile was aware, Aidan hadn’t told a lie. He was a rare breed. As usual, it was the better men that fell by the wayside, while the corrupt avoided punishment and prospered.

“Goodbye, Aidan,” whispered Vasile. “May the ancestors shelter you. You’ll be sorely missed.”

 

Chapter Thirty-Five

Caldan stood to the side as Master Mold directed the Protectors to secure the building. The master disappeared inside, and soon after, a Protector came out with a bunch of keys and locked the iron gate, making sure the curious bystanders were denied access. Two armored journeymen were positioned inside the gate, as well as two Quivers. Along with the Protectors, Master Mold had arrived with a squad of soldiers he’d dragooned on the way.

Caldan rubbed tired eyes and yawned, running a hand over his head. He still felt weak, probably an aftereffect of the blood loss, and a hollow pit in his stomach told him he needed to eat to regain his strength. But Mold had asked him to wait, so wait he did. For a few minutes, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and went inside to look for food. Amerdan and he had found a small kitchen at the back during their search, so Caldan made his way there.

Drinking his fill of water, Caldan grabbed a bottle of cider and uncorked it. He was about to look for a glass but shrugged. After what he’d been through and seen, maybe he needed the whole bottle. The kitchen was well-stocked, but with so many expensive foods he didn’t feel like eating. Honeyed crickets? Jars of pickled baby eels with onions? A brown paper package containing a brick of… was it cured and pressed jellyfish?

After poking around, he managed to put together a decent meal of dried fruit, more bread and cheese, along with thin slices from an aged leg of ham.

Halfway through his meal, a bleak-faced Mold poked his head in and, seeing him, pulled up a chair and sat beside Caldan. Without asking for permission, Mold took a swig from the bottle of cider and followed it up with a longer pull. His eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a hard set to his jaw.

“Is there anything stronger?”

Caldan nodded. “I saw a few bottles in… I think the first room. Looked like expensive bottles of wine and spirits. They spared no ducats making themselves comfortable.”

“We found Master Annelie and the other two Protectors covered with canvas in a cart out the back. I don’t know what they were going to do with the bodies. Probably dump them in the river, or bury them in the countryside.”

Caldan nodded, keeping quiet. He could tell Mold was struggling to come to terms with what had happened. It seemed he’d been close to Annelie.

“When Annelie didn’t return, I sent someone to check on her. They found the safe house empty, and I feared the worst.” Mold eyed Caldan. “I thought you’d done for them. Gotten yourself loose and somehow overpowered a master and two journeymen. When we received your message, I’d hoped… well, I’d hoped Annelie was still alive.”

“I’m sorry. I had my hands tied when we were attacked. I might have been able to do something, but…”

“No need to apologize. You’re still in a deal of trouble, but I need to hear your side of the story. What happened?”

Careful, thought Caldan. Was Mold trustworthy? Maybe, but best not to take chances. Joachim could have been acting alone or part of a larger group. “We were waylaid in the street. Both journeymen were killed with arrows before we knew what was happening. Master Annelie managed to access her well and put a shield up, but… they used crafted arrows that somehow drained her shield. They worked efficiently, like they’d done this before.”

Mold nodded. “There have been a few Protectors and sorcerers go missing the last couple of years. No one could work out what happened to them. But go on.”

Caldan wrestled with the idea of telling Mold the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It would create more problems than he was ready to deal with. And he didn’t want the Protectors going after Amerdan. He wanted to do that himself. “I was knocked unconscious, and when I woke, I was locked in the room upstairs. I managed to free myself and killed the guard who opened the door, then his two colleagues. They were unprepared, and I surprised them. And I think they were drunk. I found a quiver with their crafted arrows in it and took a handful. When I ran into Joachim downstairs, he activated his shield, but I disabled it using the arrows. And then…”

“Then you killed him.”

“Yes.”

Mold let out a long sigh. “If I hadn’t seen this mess myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“I scarcely believe it, either. Judging from the luxuries they’ve purchased, Joachim and his men must have been killing people for their
trinkets
for years.”

“And what about the room you were locked up in? The table with straps, the bloodstains on the floor. Any idea what they were up to?”

Caldan forced his breathing to remain steady and met Mold’s eyes, holding his gaze steady. “I’ve no idea.”

Mold grunted, took another swallow of cider, and handed the bottle back to Caldan. “I’m going to check the front room for something stronger. Don’t you go anywhere. I know what you’ve been up to, and why Annelie had you taken prisoner. Ah—” Mold held up a hand as Caldan was about to protest and lay out his excuses. “I know you think it was for a good cause, to try and heal your friend Miranda, but there are certain inflexible rules handed down to the masters over the centuries. What you’ve uncovered here, and the fact you decided to stay and report it to us, are strong marks in your favor. But… I’ve very little leeway.”

“I understand.” Though he hated lying to Mold, Caldan was sure no one realized he’d had the books copied. And if his crime was only stealing from the masters’ library, then there’d be a fair chance breaking Joachim’s murderous
trinket
-stealing ring would go a long way toward ameliorating his punishment.

“Just remember,” Caldan continued, “that if it weren’t for me, Joachim would still be free to murder and steal. He’d have killed Annelie and the journeymen and escaped punishment. You’d have no idea he was behind it, and they’d be floating in the river. By the ancestors, I could have kept the whole thing quiet and taken the building for myself. With the ducats here, the
trinket
s…” Caldan shook his head in wonder. “I could have lived until the end of my days in luxury, and no one would have ever known. But that’s not who I am. Miranda needs my help, the Protectors can make use of me, and Bells needs to be stopped. So… here I am.”

Mold glared at him, and Caldan made sure he didn’t flinch. Eventually, the master’s expression softened. “You’ve exposed a great evil, but… the cost was high.”

Caldan nodded solemnly.

“There’ll be a trial for your indiscretion,” Mold continued, “though given the circumstances I can’t see they’ll throw you out. You did it to try and heal your friend, and you managed to reveal Joachim for what he was.” Mold scratched his chin. “I’ll put the trial to one side until the Bells affair is resolved. Which means you better be on your best behavior. Though an apprentice your age is unlikely to find a master to sponsor them—”

“Then I’ll take whatever tests you want. I’ll use my smith-
crafting
knowledge and submit something for journeyman consideration. A few days are all I’ll need.”

“You sound confident of your abilities.”

“I am. When I’m a journeyman, I’ll be one less problem for you to worry about.”

“Very well. But there will be consequences, and you’ll have to defend your actions.”

Caldan swallowed then nodded. Would he be able to submit himself to whatever punishment the masters decided, or could he be powerful enough now to defend himself from them? “What happens in the meantime?”

“You have a few days to craft something for me to consider, and then I’ll decide what to do with you.”

A few weeks ago, Caldan would have gushed his gratefulness at Mold’s agreement of his proposal to become a journeyman, but now… after all that had happened… he didn’t feel anything much. Still, if it helped him find a cure for Miranda, then all well and good.

Caldan rose from the table at the same time as Mold.

“Off with you, then,” said Mold. “I’ll be here all night and probably all day tomorrow. Make good use of your time.”

With renewed energy, Caldan left Mold and headed back to the Protectors’ headquarters. When he arrived, it was almost dawn, and the horizon had a gray cast to it. Unusually for this time, most of the Protectors were up and about, apprentices hurrying from one task to another. In the courtyard, a dozen journeymen were keeping watch, with their own crafted armor and weapons.

Caldan was exhausted. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he stumbled inside and up the stairs. He looked in on Miranda to make sure she was all right. He pulled up her blanket, which she’d pushed down in her sleep. Whether from a dream or a nightmare, or because she was hot, he couldn’t tell. The air in her room was stale, and he left the window slightly ajar. There was no one in her room to look after her. Perhaps the commotion had drawn her helper away and they’d never made it back. He bit back an angry curse. Whatever the reason, he’d make sure she wasn’t left alone again. He needed to entrust her care to someone more qualified than an apprentice Protector. Her skin was still pale; all the inactivity couldn’t be good for her, and she definitely looked thinner than when they’d first met.

A quick check of his belongings confirmed the copied books remained undiscovered. Without stopping to wash up, he changed out of his soiled clothes and slipped into his bed. A few hours’ rest was all he could afford. He needed to make sure Miranda was being cared for, and begin
crafting
. Relaxing was difficult, as his thoughts kept returning to the unsanctioned books on coercive sorcery. Somehow, he’d have to make time to study them as well. Tomorrow was going to be another busy day.


Morning came, and Caldan ignored the brightening room for another hour before dragging himself out of bed. He readied himself, touching his
trinket
ring to make sure it was there, and checking the bone ring. Strapping on the sword he’d taken from Joachim’s building last night, he again looked in on Miranda. She had to be his first order of business this morning; it wouldn’t do to keep making an apprentice look after her, and he had an idea to ensure she received the best of care.

After asking around, he paid a visit to a nearby physiker’s. When he had explained Miranda’s situation, leaving out any mention of coercive sorcery, the woman was only too glad to take on the task of Miranda’s ministration throughout the day. He handed her enough ducats from his Dominion winnings to pay for the first two weeks, thanked her profusely, then went about sourcing raw materials for his
crafting
.

With a successful trip to the clockmaker out of the way, Caldan headed back to the Protectors. Finding where the supplies were kept, and using Mold’s name, he was able to come away with almost everything he needed. A few of the rare earths he had to pay for, but when he mentioned it was for his journeyman’s piece, he received a substantial discount.

By the time midday came around, he had gathered all the materials he required. The physiker was due to arrive soon, and he settled down next to Miranda, making sketches of possible
crafting
s, calculating alloy percentages, and configuring rune patterns.

When the physiker appeared, he left her with Miranda and found out how to reserve a place in the smith-
crafting
forge. He was allocated a bench for tomorrow, which was fine by him; he’d need the time before then to go over his designs and work on the schematics of his links, anchors, buffers, and activation runes.

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