Bones of the Empire (51 page)

Exiting the camp itself, Estin passed hastily built barricades of sharpened trees meant to slow a charge by their enemies. Beyond that, he made his way slowly up the hill Linn had mentioned. He could see a single torch stuck into the ground at the top. He took his time, knowing Turess probably did not want visitors if he was working alone. Looking over the distance between the camp and Turess’s hiding place, he wondered at the need for so much secrecy at the risk of being caught far from help.

Coming to the crest of the hill, Estin walked out of the trees to find Turess had turned the hill into a makeshift study, after clearing away most of the snow. Dozens of books lay open on the ground, and several rings of magical script had been drawn into the dirt. Turess knelt near one of the circles, facing away from Estin. A low ring of stones and brush kept the whole place from being visible at much of a distance.

“I came to talk,” Estin said, tossing his swords near a pile of books. “We need to discuss our plan.”

Turess did not answer, but instead waved his hand furtively with his back to Estin, as though trying to throw something.

Shaking his head, Estin moved slowly around the clearing, eyeing the script that had been drawn in the snow. It was entirely illegible to him, but the style appeared identical to the writings on the wall of the temple in Jnodin. The script was always in a circle and had been repeated around the clearing, as though Turess was trying to remember all the words.

“You left me there to die!” hissed a man’s voice, and Estin realized he had never heard Turess sound like that. It was familiar, but not Turess. “The empire was built on our blood! You made me into this, as much as he did.”

Inching closer, Estin tried to get a clearer view of Turess, but he was certainly alone. As Estin neared, Turess twitched and reached back, pawing at the ground. Then Estin heard his strangled gasp for breath. Something was not right, but Estin could not initially see what.

Rushing around to Turess’s front, Estin saw Turess was fighting against something that was crushing his throat. The indents of fingers pressed into his flesh and his eyes bulged, but there was nothing around him that Estin could see. A chill wind was about all the threat he could find.

Estin shifted his sight to see magic and found there was a faint shape of a man standing over Turess. He aimed at that shape and wove a quick spell to push the target away, loosed it, and watched as the man tumbled backward. Turess collapsed and gasped.

While Estin watched, the humanoid shape flared more brightly and vanished. When he blinked back to his normal eyesight, a ghostly man, his eyes flaring yellow briefly, advanced on Estin, floating across the snow without leaving a trail. The ghost was unmistakable.

“Oramain…shit,” Estin swore, looking around frantically. There was nowhere to hide and no one within range to help. The ghost could probably kill most anyone from the camp anyway. “Turess, run!”

The ghost raced toward Estin without moving its legs. Estin reached for his weapon and realized he had left the swords out of reach, but close enough to see. Oramain crashed into him, giving Estin the sensation of a snowstorm hitting him with gale-force winds. He tumbled backward and slammed into a tree as the ghost fell over him, chilling him to the bone. Then, just as suddenly, the cold was gone.

Estin blinked away the flares of light in his sight from hitting his head and saw Oramain had been distracted by Turess. The two were exchanging flashes of magical energy that lit the hilltop like lightning, neither gaining nor losing ground. The spells were complicated, far more difficult than any Estin knew. Even trying to sort out what they were supposed to do made his head hurt. Instead, he rolled to his knees and tried to make his way toward his swords.

Oramain noticed Estin’s movement and flicked one semitransparent hand toward the swords, sending them tumbling into the trees. At the same time, he deflected a brilliant flash of white light from Turess’s outstretched hand. Then, while countering another of Turess’s spells, he pointed at Estin and uttered a few short words of magic that Estin recognized all too well.

The spell would cause instant death. There was no good way to avoid it without being prepared, which Estin was not. He closed his eyes as the chill of magic fell over him, clawing at his life’s energy, attempting to snuff it out. Tendrils like ice reached into his chest, brushing at his lungs and heart.

Nothing more happened, just as when he has cast spells on Oramain during their last encounter.

Estin blinked and looked around in confusion, finding both Turess and Oramain doing the same thing. Then, with a shriek of anger, Oramain faded away as if taking flight on the wind itself. A faint whisper of laughter reached Estin’s ears a second later.

“Are you all right?” Turess croaked, running to Estin’s side.

“Fine,” he answered, touching the back of his head. His fingers came away wet with blood. “Mostly fine.”

“My brother sends my old friends to kill me,” Turess said, his voice still hoarse from being choked. “Oramain surprised me. I apologize for not keeping closer watch. He is dangerous, even as he was in life. One of the greatest I have ever worked with, to my dismay. Far better than I, and possibly better than my brother.”

Estin nodded. “I know. He’s the one who showed me how to bring Feanne back from the dead…and he’s how On’esquin brought you back.”

“I thought that, but was afraid to ask.” Turess reached for Estin’s head, only to freeze with his hand up. Blood had soaked all of his forearm around the bracelet, and what flesh Estin could see was blistered. Turess hurriedly let his robe’s sleeve drop over it.

“What was that?” Estin demanded, sitting up.

Turess mumbled something and turned to move away, but the conversation was long overdue.

“The bracelet…I’ve seen it glowing whenever you use magic. Is it enhancing your spells?”

Turess smiled weakly and picked up a burned book, which fell apart after a few seconds. “I was intending to be more subtle. Was going to let you and others do all work. Much easier to keep secrets if you do not let others see your weaknesses.”

Estin pulled a piece of cloth from his pouch and pressed it to his head as he got up and moved over to Turess. “What’s going on, Turess?”

Turess sat down hard, pulling up his sleeve again. In the torchlight Estin could see that not only was Turess’s arm burned, but the bracelet itself appeared to have gone through a fire. The silver was blackened and twisted in spots. “You will keep secret for me?” Turess asked, turning his arm so Estin could see the burns all the way around. “Others must think I am as stories say or they lose trust. You make promise and I will tell you things I meant not to.”

“I promise.” Estin sat and reached for Turess’s hand, but Turess flinched and pulled away.

“Cannot heal burns from raw magic,” he explained, wiping away the blood gently with his robe. The blisters and burns were severe, making Estin wonder whether they would ever heal properly. “Is nice feeling to be honest about this. Had meant to hide it, and this makes me feel better already. Bracelet is wedding band, Estin. Matches one given to my wife. With help of my brother, it was enchanted to contain the raw power of mists. We meant to use these as weapons against the clouds when they first came. Once magic is in bracelet, it can be used to supplement magic we pull through ourselves.”

Turess went silent for several minutes before adding, “Can also be used by one without magic to pretend they do have it. Meant to refill bracelet at mists again before fighting brother. Now is too late. Bracelet will likely never work again.”

“You…” Estin tried to find words for what he thought he was hearing. “You can’t cast magic?”

“Little,” Turess admitted, smiling sheepishly. “Spell of light is about all I can manage. All else is bracelet or other trinkets I left behind. Were many reasons I wanted them found before I came back.”

Estin’s stomach lurched painfully. The man they had thought would be able to turn the tide of the war was helpless. “Is there more I should know?” Estin asked, his nervousness fading into a dull anger.

“Oh yes,” Turess said, shrugging helplessly. “I know more than I let on. Old plan was that I could let you and vixen die if it got me to my brother.”

Estin hardly felt himself lunge at the man, but a moment later, he was atop Turess, his claws dug into Turess’s neck and his fangs bared and close to Turess’s nose.

“Please!” Turess pleaded, turning his face away. “Was before I knew any of you. Was very angry when I woke. I swear on my…no, I will not swear on anything, as I lost all that was worthy of oaths. I will die to protect all of you, Estin. There is no empire for me to return to. I am just a man now. Please believe that I will lay down my life if it ends the madness my brother has created. Let me live and I will find way to prove it.”

Estin held his position a while longer, growling as he fought the urge to kill Turess for the mere suggestion that he would betray them. All he could think about were those who had already done so, with Phaesys foremost among them in his mind. Slowly, his anger faded, and he eased his grip and inched away from Turess’s face, though he did not let go.

“Why was he trying to kill you?” Estin finally managed to ask, looking around at the plateau where they lay, with its burned and scattered books.

“Same reason he tried before I died first time,” Turess admitted. He did not take his eyes off Estin, as though afraid Estin would change his mind at any second. “I thought him traitor, but truth is Oramain is under control of my brother. He may not have any choice. I doubt he has been able to do one good thing since the day Dorralt took control, and it has destroyed him. Once, Oramain was kindest of my men…now…well, you see.”

“What can we do to stop your brother? We’re almost to him, and I haven’t seen a real plan yet. Give me something I can believe in.” Looking toward the west, Estin nodded at the curtain of mists that had slowly risen each night, now filling every inch from the ground to a spot several hundred feet up, if the scouts were to be believed. “What then?”

Turess let out a long slow breath, as though buying himself a few extra seconds. “The mists I…we…can stall.”

“Stalling won’t save us, and probably not anyone outside Turessi, if the mists just turn around and go hunting again,” Estin said, and from what he could see on Turess’s face, he already knew it. Reluctantly, Estin rolled off Turess and sat down hard. “We need a way to stop Dorralt and the mists, once and for all. My children are out there somewhere. I want to know how we’re keeping the mists from ever reaching them. I want to know that their children won’t have to keep fighting this. I’ve been telling the others the same lie you told me about them fading away. We both know how fast they can move. They’ll find a way out of Turessi.”

“The mists I…I can stop,” said Turess, not sounding entirely convinced. “With mists watching us, we spare everyone outside these lands. This is why I pushed us to get to the temple quickly. From there, I can slow or drive back mists and spare these lands at the least, and likely many others. Is old magic with some manipulation. We once learned how to slow the mists with our own magic—”

“My son figured out how to do that on his own before his fourth year.”

Turess blinked and thought for a moment, as though he had lost his place. “I think with the old runes the…uh…Mairlee and I made, I can hold the mists and weaken them enough that they will starve before they can find more to consume. Will not know for sure if will work until I am standing in the old audience chamber. If things do not go well, I may see if we can pull the mists to us, ensuring our deaths in exchange for keeping them far from the rest of the world. Once they reach old building…they cannot leave easily because of mistake made long ago. Is place inside they will be drawn to and then bound by. Is not perfect plan, but hoping mists weaken and cannot make it back to other lands.

“Dorralt is another matter. I cannot learn about him anywhere but standing in front of him. There are no others like him from what I see, so even capturing another would be meaningless. Were none I knew like him my first life. I need to get into what they now call the temple and face him if there is to be any chance of killing him. The mists can wait until my brother is gone. We will tune the wards to stop the mists, kill my brother, and then we worry about rest of plan.”