Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) (31 page)

“Your mother used to tell you this story?” Korbin asked, incredulous. “It’s pretty sinister sounding.”

“It’s a cautionary tale about befriending ‘darkness’, or as she used to say it, wicked ways. My mother had a fondness for folk stories.”

“Ghosts,” Korbin said softly.

“Trinity?” Octavia mused.
What was she trying to tell them?

“We read the entire story this morning,” Betram said. “And when there’s time, you should too. It goes into more detail than the rough translation the boy’s mother told him.”

“What more did you learn?” she asked.

“In this original Kilovian version,” Betram explained, “Darkness was not necessarily the villain. Once his children cast out the eight friends, portrayed as monsters disguised in beautiful clothing, they went on to serve the world, using the magic they inherited from their father, Darkness, in a positive way. They overcame a great evil and saved the world.”

“That part isn’t in the Talmoran version of the story.” Hekare nodded. “The feeling is completely different.”

“True. That doesn’t really fit with the narrative of Darkness being wickedness.” Korbin scratched his chin and pondered.

“Does this mean that
Trinity
can drive the Spirits of Light and Shadow away?” Octavia asked.

Treviia shook her head. “I don’t think so, but it’s impossible to be certain. We need more time to study it.”

“Time we don’t have.” Octavia sighed. “Jorek is dead and Pang has possessed his son. When he takes the throne later today, one of the eight will rule all of Talmor with Zain by her side.” She looked up at Hekare. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” he said. “Do you think Trinity will leave me alone now? I need to sleep.”

Octavia smiled. “I think she will, yes. You can go rest. You’ve done well.” She turned to the others. “And we need to talk about what this means.”

“If it’s all right, I’d like to stay.” Hekare shuffled his feet. “I was assigned to work for you, so I won’t get in trouble.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but with Emperor Jorek dead, it’s not safe for anyone who cared for him, especially me. I would be heartbroken if anything happened to you on my account.” She stood and gave his hand a squeeze, making him blush. “I’m grateful to you.”

“You’re them then?” he asked, looking from her to the other three conduits.

“Them who?” Octavia asked.

“The Children of Darkness.”

The truth hit Octavia and she sat back down, shocked, turning the story over in her mind. Were she and the other conduits, including Korbin, descendants of Eurmus, this ninth Spirit? She looked down at the book in her hand. If this was to be believed…

Betram sighed. “It would explain things,” he said. “There are those conduits who I would say have no real aptitude. They might learn to meditate and cut herbs and serve the community and the Sennestelle in their own way. But some conduits, like you, Senne Octavia, have extraordinary abilities, who can do things no human should be able to do.”

“But that gift is simply the power of the One flowing through us,” Octavia said.

“And who is the One, but perhaps our father? Our power comes from our blood. From
his
blood,” Gysella said.

Octavia looked to each of them. “This is why you came to me today. Because you believe this story and think us to be the descendants, the Children of Darkness, of Eurmus.”

Betram nodded. “If this is right, then we are the only ones who can stop the Spirits. Our rituals, passed down to us by our father. Our knowledge.”

“So much has been lost.” Korbin took the book from Octavia and thumbed through it. “Are there answers in here?” he asked.

“It presented more questions than answers, to be honest,” Gysella said. “We don’t even know where these Spirits reside.”

“We know one lives within the emperor’s son,” Octavia said.

“And the other, at least temporarily, in my father.” Korbin sighed. “I have to go find him.”

“What are you going to do?” Octavia searched his eyes for answers.

He set his mouth with determination. “I don’t know. I suppose I have to find out how far gone he really is, if he can be saved. I have to try to save him, for my mother’s sake.”

Octavia nodded. Korbin and Hekare left at the same time, leaving the four conduits alone together. She still felt shaken by this realization. She was the descendant of a god. The blood of one of these Spirits, whom she had learned to fear and perhaps even hate, ran in her veins, gave her all the power she’d ever touched.

“So,” she said. “Where do we start?”

Chapter 31

When Graiphen presented himself to the guards in front of the emperor’s door, he spoke with his own voice. “Ultim Qardone Graiphen Ulbrich. His highness sent for me.”

Braetin hunkered within his mind but could not fully control him without great effort, and he sensed that she had expended much energy trying to force him to rape Octavia. The exertion of the painful aftermath of his resistance had cost her as well, but not so much that she would delay confronting her rival.

“No one is allowed to enter,” one of the guardsmen said. “The emperor is with representatives of the senate.”

The goddess pushed her influence into Graiphen’s voice. “He will see me,” she said. “Dare you defy the Spirits?”

When she chose to use him as a puppet, he had little choice but to watch from within. His only respite was that the distance and method of her possession weakened her.

The guards looked to one another, and one said, “I will inquire,” before ducking into the room.

Nassore’s voice rose to greet Graiphen from beyond the door. “Come, Graiphen! I knew it would not be too long before you were by my side.”

He stepped inside and was confronted by the three highest ranking senators in Talmor. They waited for him to greet them, but he kept his eyes locked on the prince. “Has the senate confirmed your claim?” he asked.

“My claim?” Nassore’s eyes thundered as the darkness within him welled. “From the moment my father breathed his last, I am emperor of Talmor, by birth and by right.”

Dul Strom, a senator Graiphen had met but did not know well, cleared his throat. “Of course. Still, for the sake of the people, we must observe the ceremonies.”

“You wasted no time,” Braetin said through Graiphen’s voice.

Nassore’s gaze locked on Graiphen, and then he smiled. “Leave. At once.” He waved at the senators.

“But your highness, we must—”

With a flick of his wrist, Nassore cut him off. “I will be obeyed.” His voice was cruel and sharp.

The Dul who had spoken put his hands to his neck as though he was choking. He coughed and croaked.

“Take him away from here,” Graiphen said to the others. “Remove him or he will die.” He did not speak out of pity, for he had no particular affection for the man, but the sight of his suffering was beginning to excite the Spirit within Graiphen, and he did not wish to be sidetracked.

When the senators had gone, Braetin’s presence infused every part of him. “You betrayed me,” Braetin said.

Nassore’s lips curled into malicious grin. “I did as you would have done.”

The Spirit thrashed within Graiphen’s body. “You speak falsely. I did not bring you into this realm to betray you.”

Nassore sat, his eyes black with the presence of Pang. “No, you brought me here to save yourself. And I did save you.”

The thorns in Graiphen’s joints throbbed with pain, which she fed on. The weaker he felt, the stronger she became. “We agreed to divide this world, but I know you have been working against me, and now you have claimed the Talmoran throne. Don’t think I will give up my nest easily.”

Pang’s laugh sounded disjointed coming from Nassore’s mouth.

Idly, and from a distance, Graiphen wondered how aware the prince was of what was happening to him. Had he ever had a chance? Graiphen doubted it. Yet the Spirits seemed to possess those who offered themselves. Was this a limitation of theirs, a strange courtesy, or was it simply easier to take the willing? He pondered that thought while the rage of his goddess coursed through him.

“This world is big enough for the both of us to feed for a lifetime,” Nassore said.

“You plot against me. I see it in this one’s mind.”

“I protect my own interests,” Pang said. “As would anyone.”

“You used my servant, tried to win his loyalty. I know what you offered him, that you forecasted my demise.”

“I may have predicted it, Braetin, but that does not mean I wish for it. Do you think I don’t remember the terrible end of our last venture into this rich world? What we suffered? But now we are both working toward the same ends, to anchor ourselves here. As long as our children live, we cannot die. If only our brothers had known that secret, none of the tragedy that befell us all would have occurred. We could have dealt with Eurmus when it was still easily done. I have taken the throne so I can do what we couldn’t do before. Every child of Eurmus will die if I have to scour every nation to find them. Then we shall
both
have our revenge.”

Braetin rested for a moment. Graiphen could feel her thoughts far away, and he gasped air in relief.

Nassore tilted his head. “She has left you?” he asked Graiphen.

“She is thinking.”

Nassore’s brow furrowed. “Why? What has she…” His eyes flashed angrily. “Braetin, you have not bred with these creatures, have you? With
his
children?”

Braetin did not respond.

“If you mixed your essence with that of Eurmus’ spawn, then know that I will eliminate them too. His offspring must be eradicated. Only then can we destroy
him
.”

Graiphen felt the slamming of Braetin’s energy back into his body. “You will not touch my children!”

“And they worship you as the one who exacts revenge. They call you the Spirit whose realm is fear, nightmares, and betrayal. You are aptly called, then, for you have not only betrayed me but our entire race. It is you who have given the enemy a lifeline. Do you not understand what this means?”

Graiphen cried out as the thorns began to burn with Braetin’s rage.

Nassore stood, his expression flashing with fury. “Your children will die at my hands. Every one of them who bears even one drop of Eurmus’ blood.”

The candles in the room flickered and the gauzy curtains whipped back as though a stiff breeze had snapped into the room. Braetin’s presence throbbed within Graiphen’s body, anchored at the thorn in his heart.

Braetin raged. “I will see you die first, in pain and torment. First your vessel, then your son, then your true body residing on our world. You believe me to be weakened, but the truth is to the contrary. My children feed me even before they leave the womb, and I am stronger than I ever was.” In Graiphen’s mind echoed the command:
Kill her.

Moving without possibility of disobedience, Graiphen removed the knife from his robe, the same one he’d used to kill Seba, the one the guards had politely returned to him after he was freed from his prison cell.

Nassore’s eyes widened in the moments before Graiphen reached him. “No,” he said, backing away. “We do not harm one another. We had a pact. This world is big enough for both of us. We have said that many times. You can make new children by the hundreds and thousands, ones
without
the taint of Darkness.”

Graiphen did not stop, his movements directed by his goddess. He was bigger and stronger than Nassore. Even if he was older by decades, his strength was battle hardened and fueled by Braetin’s fury.

With a scream, Nassore called for his guards.

∞

Korbin smiled politely at the three senators when they came scurrying out of the Chamber of Days as he approached. Their irritated chatter came to an abrupt halt when they saw him, telling him the source of their annoyance must have been his father.

After a couple of perfunctory nods, they continued down the corridor and out of Korbin’s sight. He’d heard one of them mutter that the way they had been treated was an outrage, an insult to the senate itself. They were gone before he could make out exactly what had happened, though.

Presenting himself to the guards, he said, “I am Dul Korbin Ulbrich.”

“Yes, Dul,” one of the guards said. “We know you, of course.”

“My father requested that I attend his meeting with the new emperor.” He made a move toward the door, but the larger of the two men stepped in front of him with an outstretched palm to block his way.

“I’m sorry, Dul. His highness said no one may enter.”

Korbin muttered to himself. He knew it would be futile to insist. If Nassore had said no one, there would be no getting by. For a moment, he considered trying the garden entrance, but in the end, decided he would wait.

Sudden, raised voices from within told him the confrontation was in full swing. The doors were heavy and the walls thick, so the exact words were difficult to make out, but the tone was unmistakable.

Korbin stood a few steps away from the guards, debating with himself. He couldn’t storm past and he couldn’t accuse his father of plotting to murder Nassore, even though he felt pretty certain that’s what he had in mind.

A roar came from behind the closed door and Graiphen screamed, “I will see you die first, in pain and torment.”

The guards looked at one another as the shouting within continued.

Korbin stepped forward. “You have to go in. Now.” He understood their hesitation; Nassore was volatile. If they’d seen even a glimmer of Pang’s presence, or Braetin’s, for that matter, they would not interfere unnecessarily.

“But—” The guard’s words were cut off by Nassore’s cries for help.

Hands on their swords, the two guards pushed open the door and rushed in. Korbin followed on their heels and edged to the side of the room unnoticed.

Graiphen stood over Nassore, a knife flashing in his hand. Before the guards could stop him, he pulled it across the prince’s throat.

In the instants that followed, the room filled with darkness, stopping the guards in their track. The voice of Pang screamed, disembodied and thrashing.

Korbin was buffeted against the wall and the guards were held at bay as a swirling shadow whipped around Graiphen’s body, his red robes snapping like sails in a sharp wind.