Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (74 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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“We recognized you were a sorcerer when we saw your shield. That must be how you avoided getting injured by the monsters. But… we saw flashes of light out there, and heard explosions. Are you… are you really able to control sorcery from before the Shattering?”

All of the soldiers were staring at Caldan intently, with a mixture of awe and fear. Cel Rau was also staring at him.

Be careful, Caldan warned himself. The Protectors would likely make him disappear if he let anything slip. Unleashing knowledge of destructive sorcery on the world wasn’t his decision to make, but he was glad he’d disobeyed Master Mold and helped cel Rau and Vasile. It seemed like something the Protectors should have done.

“No,” replied Caldan. “I’m nothing special. And the explosions were an alchemical mixture which burns with a fierce intensity. There’s nothing sorcerous about it.”

Cel Rau returned to ministering to Vasile, while the Quivers looked disappointed.

They trundled down the streets in silence for a time. Word must have spread of their escapades, as a number of people came up to thank them. Some young women handed cel Rau flowers woven into a circle, and a smile broke through his usually impassive face. Quivers stationed on corners saluted as they went past, fists against their chests. Small children trailed behind the wagon, getting in the way of the Protectors following.

A wave of pungent lemons wafted over Caldan, and he froze, blood cold. Half-standing, he stretched his senses, testing the air. It came from the northwest. A pulsing sorcery, strong and potent. If he unleashed everything his well had to offer, he’d be hard-pressed to match such power. Abruptly, it vanished, leaving him thinking for a moment he might have imagined it. But no, a great sorcery had been crafted close by, within the city.

“What is it?” hissed cel Rau.

Caldan realized his hand was groping for a sword that wasn’t there. Forcing himself to relax, he ignored the curious looks from the Quivers and leaned in close to cel Rau.

“Sorcery. And powerful sorcery, at that.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know exactly. To the northwest.”

Cel Rau glanced at the Protectors trailing them. “They don’t appear concerned.”

“I don’t think they’re sensitive enough to have felt it.”

“There are sorcerers everywhere in any big city. Why are you worried?”

Caldan bit his thumbnail. How much did cel Rau really know about sorcery? Would revealing certain knowledge lead to cel Rau getting killed by the Protectors or warlocks? He didn’t have many options at the moment, and he did know the man was prepared to put his own life on the line to protect others who needed it. That had to be good enough for now.

“Most of the Protectors are on the walls, watching the jukari. As far as I’m aware, the emperor’s forces haven’t arrived yet, so his sorcerers aren’t near. And judging from the flare of sorcery, it was far more powerful than most of the sorcerers I’ve ever met could manage…” Bells; it has to be her.

“Spit it out,” said cel Rau when he saw Caldan hesitate.

“A sorcerer we’ve been tracking, one of the invaders from Indryalla. She’s in the city. It has to be her doing. And whatever she’s up to… she means the empire harm.”

“And why are the two Protectors following you?”

Caldan’s mouth opened in shock, and he closed it. The swordsman didn’t miss much. Before he could reply, cel Rau continued.

“I know who the Protectors are and what they do. Which means I know why they’re keeping an eye on you after your… antics. As far as I’m concerned, your actions speak to me more than theirs. So… I’m with you. Vasile will be all right; the Quivers will look after him.”

Lost for words, Caldan could only nod. After a few moments, he came up with a plan.

“We have to find the origin of the sorcery. Whatever Bells is planning—”

“Bells?”

“Ah, yes. Bells is her name. She has to be stopped. The Protectors haven’t been able to find her.”

“And you think you can?”

“Maybe. If we are lucky enough to get close to her. The
crafting
she used is powerful, and I’ve a talent for discerning sorcery.”

“So I’ve seen. If you’re right about this Bells—”

“I’m right. What are the chances it’s another powerful sorcerer?”

Cel Rau grunted. “You’d be surprised.” He stood and ushered one of the Quivers over. “We’re going to get off here,” he told the surprised soldier. “Give my friend the best care. We’ll be back for him soon.”


Amerdan floated in the radiant power of his wells. They bathed him in their corrosive light. For long moments, they were all he could think of; they saturated his awareness. Their blistering forces beckoned to him. It was a sweetness he’d never known he longed for. Closing them off was almost painful to him, but he knew he had to, lest the chance passing by of a sorcerer or Protector revealed his abilities.

Standing next to their table, Bells frowned at him. He smiled at her, as a lover might. It was what any woman would want from him in her situation.

“Stop playing around and help me,” she commanded. “It’s done, and I’ll need your help after I test it. It’s too heavy to lift on my own. It’ll take the two of us to get it down the stairs and into the cart.”

“Of course, Bells,” he purred sweetly. “So, we’re about to take it close to the emperor’s forces?” About time. If he didn’t need her, she’d… The need rose inside him, threatening to overwhelm his control. It had been too long. Steeling his mind, he forced it back down. Soon he wouldn’t have to, once Bells outlived her usefulness. Then, if he was lucky, he’d have another well. This time, his smile wasn’t forced.

Amerdan moved close to Bells and stroked her hair. He’d need to keep some to make a stick figure for next year’s Ghost Festival.

Bells brushed away his hand, returning his smile. “Keep an eye on me, my love. Testing my
crafting
will require handling a lot of power from my well. It’ll only be for a few moments, but there’s a chance I could lose consciousness.”

“Then, how will you use it when the time comes?”

“I have you now. Before, I was going to have to risk it and hope for the best. You’re not quite ready to help yet; there’s a few things I need to teach you first.”

“Such as?”

“Well, you won’t be doing much on your own. I’ll be controlling all the forces and the different threads. I’ll just be borrowing power from your wells. With your help, it’ll be easy.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. Amerdan forced himself to abide her touch. Usually, he was able to brace himself beforehand and the sensation wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but lately she’d taken to touching him without warning. It was disconcerting.

“This won’t take long. And don’t look so worried; I’ll be fine.”

Bells turned to her
crafting
, and he sensed her open her well. Finally assembled, the metallic
crafting
looked unassuming, a stack of round metal plates, each inscribed with
crafting
runes and symbols. He’d studied each plate as Bells had finished
crafting
it, and committed the runes to memory. Only a very few he was familiar with; the rest were a mystery.

His skin tingled as Bells drew power from her well. He looked on enviously as she broke it into multiple strings: four, then six, then eight, and finally, eleven. A clever trick he’d yet to master. Whenever he tried to create more than two strings from one of his wells, his head felt like it was splitting apart, and he almost threw up.

As he watched, the bottom plate of the
crafting
began to glow with a violet-tinged light. Faintly at first, then with increasing intensity. As it shone like a candle, the second plate joined the first. Then the third and fourth. Amerdan’s ears ached and the room seemed to feel smaller, as if it were being compressed, and them along with it.

Soon, all the discs of the
crafting
shone, giving off a radiance as bright as a hundred candles. Amerdan blinked against the glare. Then abruptly, they winked out. He sensed Bells close her well, and she slumped into a chair.

She sat for a moment, breathing heavily. “Good,” she said. “Give me some time to recover, then we’ll move it to the cart. Once we’re on our way, I’ll have regained strength enough to teach you what’s required later.”

“For when you borrow my power and activate the
crafting
?”

Bells nodded wearily, but he could tell she was pleased. “Then the God-Emperor will join us.”

 

Chapter Forty-Seven

“This part of the city,” said cel Rau, “is not a place I’d like to be at night. And it would be a worse place to live.”

Caldan looked around at the dilapidated buildings on either side of the street, and the piles of rubbish clogging a side alley, and couldn’t help but agree. Roaches crawled over the garbage, apparently immune to the light of day and the people moving past them. A small child picked through one of the piles. He was filthy, clad in dirty rags, and snot trailed from his nose to his upper lip.

Behind them, one of the Protectors waited patiently. Caldan had told them what he’d sensed, and one had been sent to inform Master Mold, while the other stayed. He’d insisted he was there as a guard.

“Anasoma had similar sections. I… didn’t think the empire would be like this. It’s supposed to be… I don’t know, grand?” He pitied the people inhabiting such districts. Their lot in life was bleak, with little chance to escape it. For all its glory and advancement, the empire had many flaws. Not least the way the poor were treated.

Cel Rau spat onto the street. “All cities have slums. And the bigger the city, the more deprived people there are.”

Caldan thought the man was going to say more, but he didn’t. Apart from a few instances, he hadn’t strung more than a few sentences together at one time. A man who valued his words. He didn’t like deceiving the swordsman, but what choice did he have?

He closed his eyes and accessed his well. For show, he fed a trickle of power into his shield
crafting
, only for an instant, which caused him to appear hazy, and the air around him wavered. He could feel cel Rau step close.

“Can you sense it still? Which direction is it coming from?”

“Yes,” lied Caldan. The source of the original outpouring of power had come from around here, that much was true. But it had stopped, and he had no way of determining where it had come from unless it began again. Knowing Bells, she wouldn’t be that stupid. “I think it’s this way.” He raised a hand and pointed to the north, where he could see the top of the city wall far ahead. He’d heard mention of a north gate, and it had to be around here somewhere.

After Master Mold and the Protectors’ had done nothing to help the refugees fleeing the jukari horde, Caldan didn’t want to be a part of them. Running was out of the question, unless he could somehow fake his own death and convince them not to search for him. Joachim had said being both Touched and a sorcerer was rare so, perhaps the emperor and his warlocks would relish the chance to employ his talents. Out of a list of bad options it seemed like his best was to face the warlocks now and try and convence them he was a vauluable resource. And if they thought he didn’t know the secret of his blood, then he had at least one advantage. A slim one, very slim, but an advantage nonetheless.

Now, all he had to do was present himself to the warlocks and convince them he was valuable. The emperor’s forces were rumored to be close now, but just where they were, he had no idea. All he could do was find them before the city was sealed up tight because of the jukari.

“This way,” he told cel Rau, and started toward the wall to the north.

The narrow streets were a maze, quite often ending with no warning, causing them to backtrack. Caldan had given up on finding Bells here, but he had to spend some time lingering in the area in case there was another power surge. As he’d suspected, she was too smart for that.

He turned into a wider street, this one lined with one boarding house after another. Then they hit a crowded main thoroughfare. A few hundred yards to the north were the city gates.

Caldan pushed his way through a group of people congregating around a squad of Quivers, haranguing them with questions about the jukari. From their expressions, they weren’t pleased with the soldiers’ responses to their questions. Ahead, the traffic came to a halt, with laden horses, wagons, and carts all funneling toward the gates. In stark contrast to the south gate, where the direction of the traffic was into the city, at this gate, everyone wanted to leave.

As they made their way through the throng to the wall, he saw most of the people trying to get out of the city were merchants and traders, along with some very frightened-looking families. Those he could understand, wanting to leave in case the city fell, not trusting the Quivers after their initial response. The merchants must have wanted to reach the emperor’s forces, he realized. An army on the move needed many things to keep them going, and there was profit to be made.

“Fools,” remarked cel Rau.

Caldan followed his gaze to see the gates wide open. With a jukari horde to the south, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years, if ever before, the city should be locked up tight. Instead, the Quivers were letting the traffic through to provide supplies to the emperor’s forces. Which meant they couldn’t be too far away. But he could see why cel Rau thought they were fools. If a large band of jukari caught the Quivers by surprise, they’d be inside the city before the gates could be secured, and thousands of people would die.

He stiffened as someone’s well tugged at his awareness. It was a strange pulsing sensation, as if whoever was accessing their well was experimenting. It was a familiar feeling he knew well from when he’d first begun his sorcerous training at the monastery, a stretching of newfound muscles. It came from the north, beyond the gate.

Caldan bit his thumbnail and let the barest trickle of power seep from his own well, extending his senses past the line at the gate and out over the wall. There wasn’t just the new sorcerer out there testing their well… there was… a
crafting
. He could feel it. Tingling. Resonating with spent power. It had to be the
crafting
he’d sensed earlier. And it was exactly where he wanted to go.

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