Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) (12 page)

Korbin felt the room sway. “One survived? Who?” He thought about the four women he’d met there. He remembered the kindly Pendra and the pinch-faced Lettoria, who’d been hateful to him and Octavia. Then there was the plump one and the quiet one. He felt guilty that he couldn’t recall their names. Was there one other? Or just those four?

“He didn’t give a name. Judging by the way he spoke of her, I’d be surprised if he knew it.”

Korbin’s mind reeled. He’d assumed Braetin wanted Seba because he was a conduit, and yet she’d had this conduit under her control all this time. Then what did she want with Seba? “Does Octavia know?”

“Not yet. Do you think she will insist on leaving when she finds out?”

“Perhaps.” Korbin knew she would. She had been wracked with guilt over the women’s capture and subsequent deaths.

The emperor nodded. “Say nothing to her for now.”

“Your highness?” Korbin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could the emperor demand this of him?

“I will accept Graiphen’s offer to act as my advisor. Given the way it was presented to me and the current mood in Talmor, my other advisors tell me I have little choice. You may have had your differences in the past, but he leads the strongest temple in the empire. I can’t afford to reject his overture outright.”

Korbin bowed with a clenched jaw. Graiphen was not to be trusted, and if he had the emperor’s ear, he and the Spirit of Shadow he served would be one step closer to controlling the heart of Talmor.

The emperor picked up a scroll and began to read. Korbin was dismissed. He took the polite two steps backward, then turned to go. As he reached the door, the emperor spoke again. “I mean it, Dul Korbin. Not a word to her.”

“Yes, your highness. I understand.”

Chapter 11

In the two days since Octavia agreed to write to the Sennestelle and ask for additional conduits to be sent to Vol, she’d written more than a dozen drafts of the letter and discarded them all. In the meantime, she’d had at least a cursory peek at most of the gardens and groves within the palace walls. The only ones she’d not been able to view were the imperial family’s private gardens. She couldn’t deny the beauty of what she
had
seen, but every leaf and flower were placed, cultivated, groomed. Despite the vibrant growth, it felt artificial.

Not one healing herb could be found anywhere, although there was a good supply of willow bark and juniper leaves. Not that she would be acting as a healer here. Still, she felt lost without her supplies. She’d only brought the barest of essentials for her own personal use. She would have to buy a few things from the local shops now that she was going to be staying for a short while, find some of the other conduits, and if it turned out she might stay longer than she hoped, send for some of her belongings from Vol. Despite having agreed to stay, she thought with longing of her small flat in the immigrant district, a place she felt safe.

In the afternoon, she walked from the palace gates down toward the heart of the city. She needed some space to think, and she didn’t feel comfortable in the palace. As she strode through the upper-class district, she considered. Upon reflection, she did believe she’d made the right decision. The emperor had sent her a message that morning saying he’d met with Graiphen, and informed her that Graiphen had agreed to release the remains of the conduits the temple had taken from Dramworthy Farm. That alone was worth her time and would go a long way to healing the community her friends had served.

Still, she didn’t quite understand why the emperor wanted her here. That message was the first communication since she met him two days ago. She supposed time would tell. His message had been bare and cryptic, and she had to confess to being disappointed that he’d written, or more likely having someone else write for him, rather than telling her about her friends face to face.

Was he simply too busy to see her? Did he think the matter unimportant? Or was there something more he wasn’t saying? She would have preferred to have heard the words from Graiphen himself, just for personal satisfaction. Part of her wanted to confront him about what he’d done, but when she imagined seeing him again, her stomach clutched.

Her Kilovian clothing drew stares as she made her way down the wide avenue surrounded on either side by tall city manors. Their edifices were carved from marble, with statues and symbols to the eight Talmoran Spirits of Light and Shadow featuring prominently in the chisel work.

Past the noble houses, she came to a merchants’ district. Clothing for high-born ladies and exotic rugs and furniture were displayed behind expensive glass panes. As she strolled through the area, she noticed that the fashions here in Durjin were even fussier and sillier than in Vol. Men and women wore shoes with high heels. Women’s hemlines bore dangling colored crystals that just glanced the ground.

In one window, Octavia saw an array of hats, some absurdly tall. She noticed nobody on the streets wearing hats, so she wondered for what occasions these ludicrous things would be appropriate. If she hadn’t witnessed two groups of women going in the shop, then coming out again with packages, she might have suspected that there was no proper occasion for the headwear.

“You might try hiding your disdain a bit more.”

Octavia jumped at the familiar voice and whirled around. “Korbin! You startled me. Where did you come from?”

He stood a step behind her and to the side, leaning against a support arch on the covered walkway. His mouth quirked up in a grin. “Sorry. You were lost in thought, there. I saw you leaving the palace and fancied a walk myself. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Are you going to lecture me about how I speak to the emperor?”

“When have I ever lectured you?”

A fair point. He was always friendly, while at the same time deferential and respectful. She liked that he never made any demands and treated her as she’d seen him treat the noble men in his circle.

“You haven’t, and no, I don’t mind. I just needed to get away from the palace. It’s too much.” She had difficulty understanding why drafting a simple request of the Sennestelle seemed so impossible for her at the moment. She couldn’t bear staring at the pile of rejected scribbles anymore.

“Still having nightmares?” He kept his tone low.

Something inside her tensed. She’d hoped he hadn’t heard her crying out after that night on the journey when he’d pounded down her door. “Sometimes.” Her face warmed, and she made an effort to breathe as she turned away, praying he wouldn’t notice. This was the last thing she wanted to think or talk about.

They started to walk together and soon left the merchant district behind. They made their way through another residential area, this one not quite as ostentatious as the one closer to the palace, but wealthy nonetheless.

After a while in companionable silence, Korbin said, “The emperor asked me to help you learn a few things to make you more comfortable with palace life.”

“I don’t plan to stay long. He offered help for my people, help I couldn’t in good conscience turn down. He even convinced
the temple
to release the remains of my sister conduits. I can’t tell you how much that means.” She’d very nearly said
your father
, but she didn’t like reminding him of the relationship more than necessary. Korbin was a man who took things to heart, often blaming himself.

Korbin eyed her strangely. “That’s good. Did he say anything else?”

“No. Why? Do you know something?” She stopped and touched his arm, her instincts quivering. “What is going on?”

Korbin glanced down the road that wound toward the hotel where they’d stayed when they first arrived. A moment passed before he met her gaze. “Nothing.”

He started to move away, but she gripped his sleeve. “Korbin, I wanted you stay here too because I trust you. I need that now. How can I rely on you if you lie to me?”

She read the conflict passing over his features in a flash before he was able to school his expression. “You can always trust me, Octavia. I swear to that. I would never betray you.”

Releasing his sleeve, she nodded and they began to walk again. “I was hoping to find someplace that sells herbs,” she said. “So far, none of the shops here seem to be what I want. I suppose I’ll have to ask Sen Betram where to look. The conduits in the city will know.” The reminder of the unsent letter twisted her stomach. She inwardly scolded herself for not finishing what should have been a simple task.

“We’ll need to go down to the other districts for that, I think,” Korbin said. “These shops cater to the very wealthy, and none of them prepare tonics and potions.”

By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, it was past midday and she wished she’d asked for a carriage. The road had turned out to be much longer than she’d originally thought. She had no problem walking, but she realized she hadn’t told anyone where she was going, and what if the emperor wanted to speak with her? Although she relished her time away, she didn’t want to anger or offend her host, not when he was making an effort to help her people. She hoped there would be more ways she could use this time to their benefit.

Down the road, the spires of Durjin’s temple district reached toward the sky. Korbin’s gaze followed hers. “It’s strange,” he said, “that we came to this city because of a person we’d tried to avoid in Vol.”

Octavia felt for him. She might have had her nightmares about Graiphen, but Korbin had to live with being his son. “No doubt I found it easier to avoid him than you did,” she said, but that was a lie. He invaded her dreams nearly every night: him, Seba, and Braetin, not to mention Trinity.

Her sister’s image had become twisted in Octavia’s nightmares. Trinity wanted something, something Octavia didn’t want to give. Upon waking, her protestations in the dreams always seemed ridiculous. Of course Octavia would give her sister anything, and she wanted to fall back asleep so she could tell her sister so. But then, dreams often didn’t make sense.

“Do you want to turn back?” he asked.

“We’ve come this far. We may as well look for the shops I came for. I need a few personal things, as well. I had thought to see if there was a Kilovian seamstress in the area.” She also wanted to get in touch with the community leaders here, after having decided that a formal letter would seem peculiar and far too Talmoran. She realized she didn’t even know which quarter of the city Kilovians lived in. It would be the poorer areas. Of that she could be certain. But high in the palace atop the city, she was not likely close to any immigrant quarter.

“If you’re going to be at court, you might consider a Talmoran style of dress.” When he caught her glance, he added, “There’s nothing wrong with what you normally wear, but you’re not here as a healer or to serve the community, but as an advisor to the emperor. People will expect you to look the part.”

“I’ve been a conduit since I was thirteen years old. People will expect me to look that part.”

“I understand.”

“Do you think the emperor will care how I dress?”

“No,” Korbin said with a smile. “His biggest concern seems to be that you feel comfortable in your surroundings. Would you care if he did?”

“No, not really.” But in truth, she did find herself wanting to fit in. The palace was such a strange environment, and she was already tiring of the constant stares. She was used to standing out; every Kilovian in the empire had to be. But these stares were laced with jealousy and contempt. Besides, the need to fit in was one worth resisting. Her smile faded as she considered that perhaps the trauma of the previous winter was making her forget who she really was.

Suddenly she wanted to go back to the palace, to immediately send a message to Betram as she’d originally planned, to reply to the emperor and find out how long he expected her to stay.

If she was already finding herself changing after one day, what would it be like if she remained for a month? Perhaps she had made a mistake after all. She’d agreed to stay, so she had to fulfill her part of the bargain, but revealing her purpose was the least the emperor owed her.

She glanced at Korbin, planning to ask if they could begin the long ascent up to the palace, and she saw him staring toward the temple complex. His blue eyes were clouded with concern.

“What is it?” She followed his line of sight.

“There’s a crowd forming,” he said.

Sure enough, dozens of people were pouring into the square, and the queue seemed to keep coming.

“Is today a holy day? Some kind of festival?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t like it. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but with my father nearby…”

“I agree.”

He led her toward the crowd, and as they approached, a few stepped aside for Korbin. One of the privileges of dressing and walking like a Dul, she supposed.

Once inside the square, her eyes were immediately drawn to the center. A young man sat on a bench, and many people knelt around him, reaching out to touch his feet or the hem of his robe. He looked so much like Korbin that it startled her, except his hair was longer and his eyes a more brilliant shade.

“Holy eight,” Korbin muttered.

Octavia stared. The man wore the loose robes of a Pangian priest. His skin shone, almost as though lit from within, and she felt the uncomfortable sensation of power emanating from him. “Do you know who that is?” she asked quietly.

Korbin shook his head, but another bystander turned and answered, her voice quavering with excitement. “He is called Zain. He is the son of Pang!” The woman’s eyes gleamed with adoration. “He healed two brothers this morning who had terrible scars from being burned, and a woman yesterday said he touched her and told her that her barren womb would now conceive.”

Octavia watched as Zain reached out to the people around him. She felt his power moving in the direction of his focus. Her gut twisted, and she glanced at Korbin. “We need to get away from here.”

Korbin nodded. They had to shove against the tide to leave the temple square, and as they moved through the crowd, the murmurs of the people became a chant. “Zain. Zain. Zain.”

“Who is that?” Korbin asked, then added, “I mean, who is he
really
?”