Chasing Bloodlines (Book 4) (17 page)

“You’re starin’.”

“I’m not,” she quickly replied and shook her head. “Gabriel has returned.”

Shaun grabbed his shirt off a chair and threw it on. It was one of the new ones she had commissioned for him with embroidery on the shoulders and laces up the front. “Where is he?” He slipped on a pair of canvas shoes and made for the door.

“My room, asleep. Whatever you said to Afton worked. She let him out.”

“Should we tell t’ rest of t’ Council?”

“Yes, that’s why I came. Can you throw out that summoning pattern you did when you gathered your friends?”

He flicked his hands together. “I t’ink so. I’ve not quite memorized t’eir harmonies.”

“Their what?”

He fueled the pattern, and lines sailed away. “A body gives off a harmony, a vibration t’at is akin to only t’em. I can feel it if I pay close enough attention.” They left the room and went to the closest salon.

“Can, can you do more like that handstand?”

He gave a grin sly enough to match hers. “You have no idea what I can do.”

It did not take long for Dagan to arrive. He held the faint gray line of pattern between thumb and forefinger as if it were a snake with a mild look of confusion that turned to amusement when he saw it connected to Shaun. Mikelle immediately told him the good news. The rest of the Council filtered in, all for Penny who Shaun did not know well enough to summon, and all rejoiced to hear the update.

After laying the groundwork for Lael’s imminent rescue, the pending Classings, and discussing the slow training of Gaelsins, they returned to the castle to spread the update on Gabriel. The energy in the room changed as they left.

Mikelle and Shaun returned to her room to find Gabriel unmoved. She covered him in a few blankets and slipped into her adjoining sitting room quietly to join Shaun. He stood in the center, feeling the room. He finally pointed under a dresser sat. “What is t’at?”

She followed his finger and stood to retrieve the object hidden under the furniture, drawing forth a long wrapped pole. “A spear.”

“Why is it hidden?”

She smiled. “It is there to remind me of what true friendship and sacrifice is.”

“Go on,” he said, tightening his pattern on the spear.

“That spear was meant for me in a battle, and Gabriel stepped in the way and took it for me. It killed him.”

He waggled a finger. “You’ve mentioned t’is before. Tell me t’ whole story.” He sat across from her and waited. She spent the better part of an hour retelling it, beginning with her arrival in Kilkiny Palace, to her being sworn in as a Council Member, leaving no detail untouched. Shaun went from leaning forward and interested to morosely sitting back in his chair with his hands steepeled before his grim face.

“I…had
no
idea,” he whispered when she was finished. “It explains his detest of t’ treatment of our people.”

“He loves his freedom. I will be interested to see how he feels when he wakes. He was wounded deeply when he came out of those copper binds, and it’s been reflected in a few traumas.”

Shaun waved a hand. “Of course he was. T’ brain cannot handle it all at once. You go into a state of shock tryin’ to process it all.”

She nodded. “What happened to you?”

“T’ey immobilized me and drove needles into my eyes.”

She shivered. “Do you hate them?”

“More t’an anyt’in’, but I will never have my sight back, so why dwell on it?”

She pointed to where Gabriel slept. “He might be able to.”

“Don’t give me false hope, fair flower. T’ey scarred my eyes, and you cannot heal scars.”

“Give him a chance. I’ve seen him do things I’ve only read about in books from Ages ago.”

He took her hand leaned down to kiss her cheek. “It’s near suppertime. Buy you a pint?”

“Of chocolate.”

“Of what now?”

She stood and clapped his shoulder. “You have a lot to learn my friend.”

Chapter 19

Gabriel woke slowly, his dreams evading him and keeping him from a rude awakening. He blinked in the dim light and rolled to his back. He was not in his room, nor in Anarma Palace. Slowly he sat up and finally recognized the room was Mikelle’s, but she was not present.

He rose and went to the window. It was early morning, but of which day he was not sure. Instead of thinking about it longer, he drew a bath, shaved his face with a Spirit pattern, and sank in to soak the weariness from his muscles. Unfortunately, all Mikelle’s soaps smelled of rose and oranges. It was not long before he too smell frightfully delicious.

“There you are,” he heard the familiar voice say as Mikelle walked into the washroom, her slippered feet tapping on the black tiles. “I see a repeat of the first time happening,” she smiled and took his towel away.

He gave her a slow glare. She never let him live
that
one down. “I’m better. How long did I sleep?”

“All of yesterday and last night. I’m surprised you woke so early. You shaved your scruff. I liked it.”

He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair that smelled of oranges. “Where did you sleep?”

“Oh, nowhere.”

“Oh, Shaun’s room,” he replied. She grinned.

“Before you return to free Lael, Aisling asked you visit Robyn first.”

“Stars,” he breathed. “I forgot. She summoned me. Is she well?”

Mikelle shrugged and handed him his towel back, stepping out to let him dry. He paid her his thanks and shifted to his room, dressing and greeting Coal with enough affection to make the cat saunter away with a lashing tail.

He belted on his amber chain. The slender wristlet was getting long as he added people to it for searchers-patterns. He stepped through the hinge into Kilkiny Palace. It was dark in the anteroom. Heavy clouds covered overhead releasing flurries of snow outside.

He walked to Robyn’s room, knocking on her bedchamber door and letting himself in when a male voice called for admittance. He frowned as he walked in, but it was only Cordis sitting by Robyn’s bed, and she still within it.

“Oh, lad,” Cordis breathed and stood. “I am so glad to see you.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Shh! She’s sleeping. She was poisoned, but I think we got the worst of it out.”

Gabriel went to her side and sank several delve-patterns into her body, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. Even her blood felt evenly balanced as usual. “There’s nothing wrong with her body.”

“She is just exhausted.”

“Aren’t we all?” Gabriel muttered. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and when she recognized him, her face brightened. “Hello love.”

She put a hand on his face. “Where have you been?” she whispered.

“I was waylaid in Tintagaelsing, but I came as soon as I could. Who did this to you?”

“Nolen. He snuck into the palace as one of the cooks and poured something in my tea.”

“Is that why you’ve been feeling so poorly? How long was he here?” he looked to his father.

“Marya thinks it was about five weeks. He was disguised pretty well.”

Gabriel stroked Robyn’s hand. “I’ll kill him eventually.”

“You…you’re going to want to talk to Aisling,” Cordis said quietly.

“What does Balien say about all this?” Gabriel asked seizing Void and slipping a searchers-pattern through Balien’s link.

Nothing. There was no recognition from the hair within.

Gabriel’s mouth cracked as a tremendous cold weight squeezed his chest. He looked to his father who averted his gaze, screwing his face as he tried to fight it. Gabriel instantly diverted the search to Aisling and zipped to find her at her desk. She jumped when she saw him, her face brightening at first but darkened at his expression.

“Where’s Balien?” he breathed.

She stood. “Gabriel, I…”

“
Where’s Balien?
” he asked louder.

“Nolen got him, Gabriel.” Tears fell from her eyes when she saw his own tears brim. “He’s in the vaults.”

Gabriel broke through the door, racing from the anteroom and into the hall nearly throwing the guards into attack. He pounded down the stairs taking them two at a time as he wound down the palace. Tears fell down his face, but he did not care who had seen. He could not remember passing anyone, only cognizant of disbelieving pain inside the cold, dark vaults.

The vaults were long and vast, storing everything from grain to coal, but there were a few smaller ones made for keeping bodies cold. He kicked the first door to reveal an empty room. He tried two more before finding the fourth illuminated with a single lantern.

He stepped in, wavy images of light contorting through the moisture in his eyes. A body laid out on a table in the center, the lantern at his head.

Gabriel shuffled in, unsure if he could manage to walk the distance, for the grief threatened to tear him to the ground. Balien was laid in a fine black coat heavily worked in silver and ivory. His black trousers were pressed, and his knee-high boots shined to reflect the light. His arms were folded over his stomach, his face was still and serene as if he was sleeping, but his unruly hair was brushed flat to one side, giving away the ruse.

Gabriel delved, feeling seven stab wounds through his gut, one that went all the way through his back, and an eighth in his chest. There was no doubt now.

He dropped his head onto Balien’s chest, and Gabriel sobbed uncontrollably as his hands gripped his friend. His friend who had seen him at his worst and still loved him, who had shared countless summer days climbing trees when they were children, who stepped between him and a whiplash at the danger of his life, who nearly died in Gabriel’s arms as Gabriel worked to repair his broken body. Had Gabriel been there, had he anywhere but Anarma Palace, he could have saved his friend.

He did not know how long he wept over Balien, but he heard delicate footsteps behind him, announcing Aisling.

“There was nothing we could do. He was dead by the time we got to him, but he saved Robyn’s life. He wrote out that Nolen had poisoned her, and we were able to flush it out,” she recounted softly as she walked to Balien’s feet.

“When?” he whispered, trying to compose himself, his forehead on Balien’s breast.

“Two nights ago.”

He straightened, incalculable wrath and anger replacing the crushing void his best friend left. Someone would pay for this. Leaning back over, he put a kiss on Balien’s cold forehead.

Seizing Void he shifted to Jaden and searched for Mikelle. She was in the Lodge foyer talking with Galloway, Shaun by her side, and a notebook on her lap. She smiled up when he appeared, but it smile quickly faded as she jumped to her feet.

“Whoever wants to see a city fall, sidestep to Tintagaelsing.”

“What happened?” she gasped. Galloway and Shaun rose with concerned faces. They had seen him emotional before, but never like this.

“Prince Balien’s been mur…” he choked over the last word, “Murdered and had I not been captured in Anarma, I could have saved him.”

Before they could argue, he shifted to the cursed city. He appeared outside the ruined gates and laid the wings-pattern before the guards. All of them seized their weapons. He could not set foot on the incanted stones, but the
air
was not affected. He could do whatever he wished if he avoided the stones.

Tearing his shirt from his arms, he took to the sky and snapped his fingers. Fire wrapped him terrifyingly, encompassing even his wings. An arrow flitted at him, but he encased himself in a shield that would only need to be lowered when he released a pattern. He took to the skies so everyone could see, and systematically Gabriel avenged Balien.

Chapter 20

Mikelle arrived in Tintagaelsing to the sound of roaring flames, grinding stones, and shouting. She sidestepped in with Shaun, half the Council, and a dozen Gaelsins to a square not far off from the palace. They could see the palace from their vantage but no Gabriel.

“Is t’ city on fire?” Shaun asked, sniffing the air and extending his rotating pattern as far as he could. “I need a closer look.” He rushed forward, cutting through the throngs of people and guards running the opposite direction. Mikelle and the rest followed at their own pace.

Mikelle rounded a building a moment after Shaun and saw the palace in full view. Gabriel hovered above it ablaze, shooting rapid green threads into the ground and ripping blocks of stone free. The palace proper stood undamaged, and from it people in blue or gray garments fled into the streets.

“What’s he doin’?” Shaun asked, his pattern not extending far enough.

“He’s ripping the ground apart.” Mikelle said wide-eyed in terror.

Shaun looked as gleeful as she had ever seen. “He’s tryin’ to get to t’ prisoners I wager.”

“At least he hasn’t killed anyone,” she said, surveying the guards nearby. Some shot arrows at him, and one had succeeded through his shield when it blinked, catching him in the lower calf. He paid no mind and continued to rip at the stones.

“By my lady,” Galloway whispered. “I have never seen the like.”

Gabriel jerked lower as he lifted his hands, pulled a huge block of stone free, and threw it aside. He turned to the gates and snapped together a pattern Mikelle had never seen before. It exploded above the gates in an array of bright red and green, laying waste to most of the support structure. It left blackened stones for a surprising distance.

“King’s-messenger-pattern,” Galloway breathed. “I have only ready about them.”

Gabriel flitted backwards, ripping at the ground beneath him. Chunks of stones popped up, and bricks flew free. Suddenly, a man emerged from the ground dressed in dirty clothes with a long beard, pale as the white stone around him. A woman quickly followed, as did a young man.

“Prisoners,” Mikelle whispered and rushed out into the street shouting, “Here! To me! To me!” The emaciated, pale Gaelsins looked bewildered and terrified, but they ran to her. “You’re safe now,” she called. Galloway motioned for them to run to Markus. He stood down the access street to the market, ferrying them back to the sidesteppers.

Gabriel continued to rage above them, and the palace produced a wave of soldiers with oddly shaped bows that laid horizontal in their hands. They took aim and launched small black arrows faster than normal. Two made it through his shield as it blinked between patterns, one striking his thigh. He did not falter nor bothered to remove it and laid a side-slide, shoving the earth beneath their feet a yard back. He could have killed them easily, but he chose to be merciful.

More Gaelsin Mages popped up. Some looked as frightened as the rest, but others stood straight and shook their fists excitedly in triumph. They were dirty, wearing threadbare clothes with uncut, tangled hair, but they were free and recognized their savior. As soon as they passed the gates, their Elements returned to them, and colored threads burst from their chests as they drank the sweet energy, reviling in rapture.

Something caught Gabriel’s attention below, and he hovered above a newly opened spot. Rather than motioning for whoever was inside to leave, he wiggled his fingers in a mocking wave, and suddenly white-hot fire burrowed into the room. The heat pushed him higher right as a new volley of the black arrows missed him. He side-slid the ground again beneath them.

“Do I hear crossbows?” Shaun asked as he helped a young woman on her course to the alley.

“Is that what they’re called? The things with the black arrows?”

“Short bows wit’ a crank? Aye. And t’ey’re called bolts.”

“Bolts,” Maxine mused with a smile.

Turning back to the ground, Gabriel ripped so hard, the stone flew higher than he. Mikelle could not see his face well in the wavering heat, but he looked angry. He tossed down a small ball of fire beneath him, and a hand shot up to grab it. Slowly emerging, Lael held onto the flame smiling. The Secondhand rushed from the crumbling debris looking far from the image of calm and collection. His red shirt was ripped down the center, his hair in disarray over his forehead, and he moved like he was wounded.

Shaun rushed to him and put a hand around his back and chest.

“Are you alright?” Mikelle gasped as they came beside her. Lael looked back at Gabriel.

“I expected a rescue,” Lael said wearily, “just not like this.”

“This isn’t a rescue, this is vengeance. Prince Balien was murdered while Gabriel was captive here. He’s taking it out on the foundation.”

Lael, who usually stood on the side of fairness, nodded. “Fine by me.”

“Come along, mate,” Shaun said and helped Lael to the alley before coming back to Mikelle.

“Is he well?” she asked.

“Exhausted, not wounded,” Shaun replied.

Another volley of quarrels shot into the sky, this time striking Gabriel in the side. One clipped his neck, and he faltered. But he regained his altitude, pulling up a guardian-pattern that encompassed the archers in a stone dome with just enough air to breathe from the top. The ground ripped beneath him once more, firing bricks skyward. Still more captives emerged, and still he tore at the foundations.

A man with long blond hair in a fine blue floor-length coat emerged from the palace door. He threw his hands up against the heated winds and shouted something at Gabriel. The Head Mage only shrugged unsympathetically and continued to rip at the stones.

“He’s going to make himself an enemy,” Mikelle said.

“T’ King would never be an ally,” Shaun sighed almost delightedly. She gave him a glare as he stood with his head up, eyes closed, listening to the roaring and smelling the burning air.

Gabriel finally descended. It seemed hundreds of Mages had come running from the holes in the ground, but now only a few scrambled free. Gabriel touched down, folding his wings over his back, and he vanished within the underground. A few more Mages still came in his wake, but they slowed to a trickle until no one escaped for ten minutes.

When Mikelle was just about ready to race in after him, Gabriel emerged with a girl under one arm, and his white cloak over the other. He clutched something spiraling and black no larger than a dish in his free hand. Mikelle could not make it out through the heat. He moved with strong resolve, guiding the girl with a long blonde braid through the fracas. He limped from the arrow in his calf and the bolt in his thigh. His white clothes were red in blotches, and blood smeared down his throat and side.

There were no guards to stop him, no King to stand in his way. A white pattern suddenly beat from the girl, and her steps became surer.

“Afton!” Shaun exclaimed and rushed from Mikelle’s side. The small girl embraced him as Mikelle went to Gabriel. Rather than coming alongside him to support his weary frame, Mikelle wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her toes, and pulled his head onto her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Gabriel tightly returned the embrace. He did not weep, too tired to try, but his face had been a book.

“Who did it?” she whispered into his ear as his smoke-filled hair tickled her cheek.

“Nolen, and he almost killed Robyn also.”

She gave him one last squeeze before loosening her grip. It took him a moment before he too let her go. “You’re bleeding.”

He looked down at the bolt in his side and gripped it with one hand.

“Don’t, m’lord!” Afton shouted and rushed to stay his hand. “I will mend it.”

“Then back in Jaden. I need to get these people to a safe place.” He strode forward and masked the limp, following his Council to the market square where hundreds of pale frightened eyes stared. Some Gaelsins came up to thank him, others gripped whatever part of him they could find, and more than one woman struck their hands across his torso.

“Everyone join up! I’m taking you to a safe place,” he called and waited until the huddled masses linked. The acrid smoke and roar of flames died in the stillness of Void. Even the air was temperate and silent. Every now and then, Mikelle saw a gray image pass through the grayscale landscape, but they moved so fast, she was never sure if it was a spirit or her imagination.

Gabriel set them in the Great Hall in Jaden where the weather was held at bay, and casted fire into the massive lamps that hung from the ceiling. “Your loved ones should be here soon, and we will reunite you as soon as we are able,” he called. “Council!”

Without needing direction Mikelle sprang to work, rushing back to her room to get her books with a thousand names, and returning to organize the new Gaelsins. There were surnames she recognized with first names they recognized. It was only a matter of arranging for a Jaden Mage to take the Gaelsin to the proper room. There were names not recorded in her books who needed rooms assigned to them, and more than once she found family members within the captives. Their reuniting was a joyous thing to watch. Even Brigit the baker was reunited with her son and husband in the end.

There were 379 captives, not to mention several Mages who had come from servitude in the palace. It brought the tally to 4,822 Gaelsin Mages. Some were children, not yet into their Elements, but the Council was going to have a rough time Classing them all.

Mikelle picked up the last of her things and stepped out into the cold evening air. Shaun and Afton had retired hours before once she was assigned a room—in the Lodge, per Gabriel’s wish—and Mikelle heard a laugh as she passed his room. Her own room was quiet and cold, so she started a fire in the hearth and wound her way to Gabriel’s rooms.

Lael was not at his desk as she suspected he would not be for a while, but Gabriel was ever at his. His head propped in a hand.

“Are you mended?” she asked poking her head through the door.

He nodded and scratched something out on a paper. He had washed and dressed in fresh clothes, donning a new coat. A sign that he planned to go back out.

“You carried something in your hand when you emerged,” she remembered. Rather than replying, he reached to his lap and pulled out a black box with a latch. She opened it excitedly but snapped the lid shut as soon as the firelight caught a metallic glow. Slowly, she opened it again.

“What’s its name?” she breathed.

“Torque.”

A Castrofax of silvery black sat in the velvet box. Rather than a single band, it was shaped in an undulated fashion, rising and falling with every inch. A metallic glove made of old-fashioned chainmail sat beside it, trimmed with rotting leather and missing a buckle. It glowed a dark green hue from within.

“What does it do?”

“It makes the wearer think nothing is wrong. They wouldn’t even know they wore a Castrofax.”

“How did you find it?” she breathed.

He set the paper aside and grabbed another. “I went into the armory looking for my cloak and found it in prominent display.
They
certainly didn’t need it any longer.”

“How many does this make?”

He raised his gaze with a look that questioned if he should answer. “I have one more to find, a glass one.”

“Glass? Surely it’s broken by now.”

“It was reinforced.” He set the page aside and took a deep breath. “Robyn doesn’t know.”

“About
Balien
?”

He shook his head. “I should be the one to tell her.”

“No, that is too much.”

“No, she needs to hear it from me.” He stood and flicked his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll be back to do a walk of the castle before bed. Are the new Gaelsins adjusting?”

“We were able to reunite many of them with their families.”

“I want to start Classing them immediately.” He rounded his desk and closed the Castrofax box.

“We implemented your schooling system, or started it. They are woefully uneducated in their capabilities.”

He nodded. “But we have patterns that determine their strengths. We can discuss more in the morning.” He used a tone that dismissed her tactfully. She gave him a smile, gripping his arm, and she slipped out.

Gabriel knocked on Aisling’s door and leaned on the frame, lowering his gaze, so it would not betray his emotions. The door opened, and Aisling instantly embraced him tightly. He could not return it, fearful he would lose it once again.
‘Oh, stars, Balien.’

He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the tears back.

“Where did you go? I was so worried.”

“I…ripped half of the Anarma Palace apart and freed the rest of the Mages.”

“You
did
?” she breathed, not in horror but awe.

“Robyn doesn’t know about her brother,” he cut in. Aisling shook her head slowly. “I need to tell her.”

Aisling put her hand over her lips. “Are you sure?”

“She needs to hear it from me.”

“Very well. Do you want me to be there?”