Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) (14 page)

“So Zain can recognize your magic immediately?”

“If he is a human possessed by a Spirit, certainly yes.”

“And if he is a demi-god, born of a Spirit somehow impregnated by Graiphen? That is what you’re thinking happened, is it not?”

“As impossible as it sounds, yes, and I don’t know whether Zain will sense my ritual. In truth, if he is a demi-god, I suspect he
wants
you to know. He may be agitated by my presence, but I doubt he’ll care that I uncover the truth.”

The emperor nodded. “You’re right, of course, but I’d rather him not know any more about me and what tools I have at my disposal than is necessary.” He glanced up from his musing. “Not that I consider you a mere tool, Senne Octavia. As I said before, you are a most remarkable woman. You intrigue me. I wish to know more of you. You possess talents I do not understand.”

“I will teach you whatever I can, your highness.” She bowed her head respectfully, wanting to honor him as much as he’d honored her.

The emperor stood. “I will go now. Prepare, and I will return with my guest once you’ve had time to do what you must.”

Octavia rose as well. “Tell me, your highness. Why do you seem…” Her voice trailed off. “
Afraid
is not the right word. Concerned. I know why I feel this way, but my fear comes from firsthand experience.”

“I believe what you say about the Spirits. History tells us that they controlled my family and therefore the throne for centuries. About two hundred years ago, things changed. We became more independent. It fits with your tale of the Children of Eurmus evicting the Spirits from this realm. Between you and me, I would rather not see the empire return to those days. I would not choose to cede power in favor of beings I do not know nor understand.”

He nodded to Octavia, then strode from the room, leaving her to prepare.

∞

Although Octavia felt distracted and had difficulty concentrating as she always did since her death, the ritual she performed was a simple one. And unlike the occasion where she battled Seba, this time she wasn’t trying to carve out a safe place within the temple of an enemy entity.

She walked slowly, placing the candles, creating the runes in hidden places, incanting the words as she had many times before. In fact, this simple ritual was intended only to create safety and clarity, a bubble of purity. It was only by accident that she’d discovered it would also reveal the presence of one of the Spirits.

How she wished to speak to one of her sister conduits: Pendra, Sonna, Minny, even Lettoria, though she’d never gotten along with Lettoria. She longed for one more conversation with Sen Rhikar, her former mentor. But they were all gone. Although the other conduits’ deaths had been more violent and tragic, and her mentor’s death in many ways a tragedy of his own making, his death had hit her the hardest. Even as she gently pushed away the thoughts of him that invaded her meditation, she realized the reason his death disturbed her even now: she might have prevented it. Never before had she been plagued with so many thoughts of what might have been…
if only
.

As her training demanded, she allowed the thoughts to drift away and stillness replaced the turmoil. The exercise used to come easily to her. Not in many years had she needed to repeat the efforts continuously. Still, she persisted.

She completed the circle, leaving an opening for Zain and the emperor to step through. She would need to close it after them but trusted the emperor would hold Zain’s attention well enough that he wouldn’t notice her until her task was finished.

The perfect calm of her circle cooled her mind and refreshed her. As she waited, she continued her meditation, allowing herself to think about what she’d remembered that day: her conversation with Trinity. Peace settled over her.
This
was why she’d been so unsettled, why her thoughts had been in such a jumble. Her mind had been trying to shield her from a horrible truth, from death itself.

Now, she supposed, she must be ready to face it, even though she didn’t feel prepared. She was haunted by Graiphen and Seba and daunted by the task her sister had given her. How could she, alone, find a way to send these gods back to the place from which they’d come?

Surely Trinity had set Octavia an impossible task. She’d even admitted that there was no guarantee of success, only that she would help as she could. But the dead can’t cross into the realm of the living. So was the only help Trinity could offer be to exacerbate Octavia’s nightmares when she was on the wrong track?

These thoughts were floating around Octavia when the side door opened. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced up, her senses dreamy. The emperor entered, followed by Zain. The two men were talking, but she ignored their words as she stood and silently closed the circle with a discreet line of chalk and a final word.

The air popped and the calm within the circle was complete.

Zain’s presence glowed brightly within the pure area. He turned suddenly, his eyes locked on her, then a smile spread across his face. “I’ve seen you before,” he said, interrupting his conversation with the emperor. “Today, I think.”

She tilted her head. “Indeed. I was at the temple square.”

He nodded, his eyes wandering around the room as though he sensed something but wasn’t certain what it was. He turned to the emperor, who gestured for Zain to take a seat opposite him. “As I said, I wished Senne Octavia to hear our discussion on the topic of Seba, since he began as a student of her Kilovian mentor. She has faced the criminal and knows what he’s capable of.”

“Of course,” Zain said. He sat comfortably, and she studied him. It had been clear from the moment she’d closed the circle he was not a human possessed by a Spirit as Graiphen had been. His eyes were bright and clear, not dead and black. At the same time, he was no ordinary man.

The emperor gestured for her to sit to his left, and she made her way around the room, out of habit taking care not to step in places where she knew the runes to be hidden beneath the floor tapestries.

As she lowered herself into the chair, Zain spoke, addressing himself to the emperor, but with a gesture, he included Octavia in the conversation. “I have heard what the temple of Braetin has requested of you.”

“The release of the dark conduit Seba into their custody.” The emperor watched Zain carefully.

“Yes,” he replied. “I strongly advise against such a move.”

Forgetting herself for a moment, Octavia spluttered. “What?”

The emperor ignored her outburst. “That the temples are not in accordance surprises me, Zain. After all, Ultim Qardone Graiphen made the request.” He paused. “Your own father, if I’m not very much mistaken.”

Zain’s face twitched. “Pang is my father and my mother.”

The emperor moved on as though nothing had been said on the matter. “And it was Ultim Qardone Graiphen who wrote to me, asking that I urgently make time for you today. Yet you work against his interests?”

Zain shrugged. “I work for the interests of Talmor, and I always will. If the temple of Braetin works against those interests, what choice do I have?” He leaned back, striking a languid pose, and gestured to Octavia. “You agree, of course. You’ve seen Seba. You know what he is, that he must not be given into Braetin’s power and come under the influence of her priests, much less the Spirit herself.”

Octavia held her breath for a moment. She found herself wanting desperately to disagree with this creature. There was something wrong about him. He wasn’t possessed, and yet, he wasn’t normal, either, but she couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong. That was when she noticed something tugging at her, making her want to acquiesce.

She met the emperor’s eyes. He was nodding, but he seemed irritated. Could he sense Zain’s manipulation? She wasn’t even sure it was active manipulation or simply his powerful presence.

“His highness knows my thoughts on the matter,” Octavia said. “We’ve spoken at length already.”

Zain glanced around the room. “You’ve done something in here. I can feel it.”

“A focusing ritual,” she said. “I find it keeps my thoughts clear. I perform it often when I’m working.” All of those statements were true. She wouldn’t make the mistake of lying to Zain or underestimating him.

He twitched much like he had when he denied Graiphen was his father.

How strange, Octavia thought, that she’d considered he looked like Korbin. Yes, he had the same hair and the same build, but she could never mistake the two. The more she spoke to Zain, the less he seemed like her friend at all.

“I will take your words under consideration,” the emperor said. “I assume you’re here to make a plea to take Seba under the protection of Pang’s temple, then?”

Zain laughed loudly, as though the emperor had told a raucous joke. “That’s absurd.”

Showing no reaction other than a raised eyebrow, the emperor waited for Zain to continue.

“Don’t you see? Seba must be destroyed. No, my mother Pang has no use for these conduits. We have no desire to contain them or use them, either as vessels or as coins to bargain with.” He cast Octavia a significant glance.

She furrowed her brow as she tried to piece together his intention, but the emperor interrupted her thoughts.

“Does Ultim Qardone Graiphen know the purpose of your petition today?” he asked.

Zain shrugged. “You can ask him, I suppose, but I doubt it.” He stood. “Well, I think that will be all. Thank you for your time.”

The emperor stiffened, clearly not accustomed to being dismissed.

He rose slowly, and Octavia did the same. “It was most enlightening to meet you, Zain,” Jorek said.

“I hope it will continue to be so.” Zain gave a pleasant smile. “We will be seeing a lot of one another. My mother, the blessed Spirit of Light, has chosen this city to be her home. Durjin is honored.”

“Indeed,” the emperor said, his tone cautious.

With a sudden, inappropriately impish grin, Zain nodded to the emperor and turned, striding out of the room. The peace of the circle popped a second time, dissipating as he pushed across the border.

Both Octavia and Jorek stared after him. After a few moments, the emperor followed, leaving Octavia in the Chamber of Days alone. She sank back down onto her chair to gather her thoughts.

Chapter 13

Graiphen’s carriage made its way to the palace. He sat on plush red cushions with the curtains drawn, annoyed at how easily Pang had bewitched his mind. It hadn’t taken but a few seconds in her presence for her to possess and overwhelm him, and by the time she released him, Zain was gone. The time they were supposed to meet with the emperor together had passed.

A sense of loathing filled him at how she had used and manipulated him for her own pleasure, feeding off him as though he belonged to her rather than to Braetin. And here he was, caught in the middle between the two goddesses, neither of which he was naïve enough to believe would make a single move for his benefit.

A seed of hatred had been planted in his soul, but he didn’t know whether it was hatred for Pang or for himself. He wished he’d had time to wash before going to the palace, but he didn’t dare tarry even one second. If Pang and Zain had conspired to keep him away from the emperor, he wanted to know why, and his goddess would, too.

His carriage was admitted to the palace grounds immediately upon his arrival, and he rushed inside. Brushing away the polite inquiries of the steward at the door, he said, “I’m here to see the emperor.”

“Of course, Ultim Qardone. However, the time of the appointment has passed and the meeting has ended.” The tall, reed-like man swayed slightly.

Irritation bristled within Graiphen. “I was unavoidably delayed.” He blocked out the memory of Pang’s foul manipulations.

“Undoubtedly.”

“Has the—” His voice cut off when he heard two voices from down the inner hall. One was unmistakably Zain. No one else had that careless drawl, and yet the tone was at the same time familiar.

Without waiting for approval or invitation, Graiphen strode beyond the vestibule and into the wide hall that spanned the length of the palace’s lower floor. Zain and Prince Nassore walked slowly together, chatting and laughing as though they were old friends. Graiphen was struck that Zain had aged even further in the two days since he’d seen him. He now appeared to be of age. If he’d not known better, Graiphen might have guessed he was the same age as Prince Nassore.

When Graiphen approached, Zain smiled, but Nassore looked peevish.

“Ultim Qardone,” Zain said. “You were missed today. But how good of you to spend your morning in devotion to my mother.”

Graiphen wrestled his anger into submission. Was the boy taunting him or genuinely ignorant? He turned and bowed to the prince. “Your highness.”

Prince Nassore tilted his head, eyeing Graiphen curiously.

Graiphen addressed Zain. “Temple business kept me away. I trust your meeting with the emperor went well.”

“Indeed,” Zain said.

The prince raised an eyebrow. “And what kind of temple business is worth showing disrespect to the emperor? It’s difficult to imagine, what with you having just been appointed my father’s advisor. You’re not beginning well.”

Zain reached over and lightly touched Nassore’s arm. “It’s all right. I’m sure his presence wasn’t needed here today, but was merely a formality because he’d requested my invitation.” The gesture shocked Graiphen. No one touched a member of the royal family uninvited. But instead of reacting with anger, Nassore’s features visibly relaxed.

The prince’s face flushed. He glanced at Zain with a shy warmth. “Of course you’re right.”

A moment of conflicting emotions kept Graiphen rooted and silent. On one hand, he resented the blatant manipulation of Nassore and how easily Zain accomplished it. On the other, he felt an irrational bond with the boy. He looked so much like Korbin, the son Graiphen had always felt at odds with. And yet, the evidence of Zain’s appearance contradicted his long-held belief that Korbin looked nothing like him.

He studied Zain while he and Nassore began to chat with one another. He did look like Korbin in some ways, but completely unlike him in others. The eyes were different. Zain looked like neither Graiphen nor Kiarana in that respect. But more than that, Zain’s features were unlined by habits of smiles or frowns, his skin not darkened by the sun, his hands unweathered and soft. He moved with a flowing grace that seemed almost unnatural and despite sharing many of Graiphen’s sharper features, he had a strangely androgynous look about him.