Forging Divinity (14 page)

Lydia sat up straighter in her chair, attempting to look startled. Fortunately, she had prepared for this. “What?”

“He disappeared last night. Do you know anything about it?” Sethridge leaned toward her, his expression cold.

Lydia shook her head. “Uh, no. I checked the sword, but it was protected somehow, like Veruden said. After that, I ran into Istavan and spent some time talking to him.”

“Istavan? Isn’t he supposed to be gone right now?” Morella turned to Sethridge, who simply shrugged.

“Was Veruden with you?” Sethridge asked, folding his arms.

Uh, resh. Did Veruden say he was with me?
“No, I don’t remember seeing him after our meeting. Do you think he was involved?”

She hoped she didn’t just get Veruden in trouble – he was a sweet kid.

“Stop interrogating the poor girl, you’re making her nervous.” Morella waved a hand dismissively.

Poor girl?
Lydia’s lip twitched.
I’m not some starry-eyed apprentice. I’m just as high ranking as she is. Bah. Am I really acting nervous?

Lydia noticed that she was tapping her foot, but she couldn’t have been doing that for more than a few moments. She didn’t realize she was giving any other tells.

Briefly, she considered the idea that lying to these people might actually bother her on some level – but she dismissed it.

Two years of working together did not make the other sorcerers her friends. Her loyalty, she assured herself, was to Velthryn and to her gods.

“Veruden told us at the meeting that he had already visited the prisoner and checked the sword. Captain Randal says that no one else came to take the key after Veruden’s visit – he didn’t discover that the prisoner was missing until he went to deliver a meal in the morning.”

Lydia nodded slowly. “You think that since Veruden is a travel sorcerer, he might have been able to teleport inside the room, since he had already been inside there earlier. That would remove the need for a key.”

“It’s one possibility we’re considering.” Morella scratched a nail absently across the surface of the table. “Personally, I think it’s more likely he simply escaped on his own. The chains were broken.”

“Chains?” Lydia asked. She had never been inside the Adellan Room previously, so the question would help divert suspicion.

“He was chained to the wall, but those chains were shattered. Did Istavan say why he was back early?” Sethridge furrowed his brow.

Lydia shook her head. “No. He didn’t want to talk much. I don’t think he intended for me to know he was back.”

“We need this resolved before Myros arrives. My last message said he’d be here in about six days. I know you are both busy, but it would be better for all of us if we resolve this on our own,” Sethridge pointed out.

“Of course.” Lydia nodded. “Do we have any other leads?”

“The sword is also missing,” Morella added.

Lydia turned to stare at Morella blankly for a moment. “Well...That’s bad, but at least it serves to confirm that the weapon was actually important.”

Sethridge nodded. “Do you have any spells that could track the weapon?”

Lydia furrowed her brow, actually considering the question. “Not exactly. I do have a tracking spell, but it requires something directly connected to the object to use as a focus. A piece of metal from the blade, for example, or a shaving from the leather of the scabbard. I didn’t think to get a sample while I was there. Did either of you collect one?”

The other sorcerers both shook their heads.

“I fear I have no way of tracing the sword, in that case.”

It occurred to Lydia a moment later that Veruden’s burn might actually have a sufficient lingering amount of dominion essence from the sword to be used as a focus for her tracking spell, but she didn’t correct her earlier statement.

And if I wanted to track Taelien, I could try to use the chains,
she realized.
He used a dominion bond to manipulate them – that’s almost guaranteed to have left by some of his essence.

Normal dominion sorcery allowed a sorcerer to draw energy from a dominion through the use of spells and keys, and then briefly manipulate that energy within the parameters of a spell. A rarer form of sorcery, core sorcery, allowed for the manipulation of raw materials that already existed in the world – such as changing mud into stone or raising the temperature of water.

In both cases, a sorcerer needed to learn how to interact with the relevant dominions – an arduous process that some sorcerers spent their entire lives perfecting. A dominion bond represented a powerful, permanent connection to a specific dominion. Such a bond could amplify sorcery for that dominion, and make core sorcery for materials of that dominion much easier to perform.

Rethri established a bond to a specific dominion as part of their coming of age ritual – but for humans, attempting to emulate that ritual had proven disastrous and often fatal. Most human bodies were simply not capable of handling the intensity of the constant flow of energy that a dominion bond created.

Apparently, Taelien’s body was.

“That’s unfortunate. Perhaps we can find something for you to use to track the sword later. In the meantime, I’d like to discern his motives for being here.” Sethridge leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“It should be obvious, dear,” Morella turned toward Sethridge, her tone just as patronizing as it had been to Lydia. It almost made Lydia smile. “We capture a follower of the Tae’os Pantheon wielding a holy relic of their religion. Obviously, we panic a bit, calling one of our gods to investigate – which we have done. Myros should be here within less than a week. Perhaps they counted on it being Myros, knowing he would be the most accessible, and that he would order a severe punishment for the prisoner. Permanent imprisonment, at least, or execution.”

“And the followers of Tae’os, believing one of their chosen had been imprisoned or executed by our government, rise up against us?” Sethridge finished, lacking conviction. “I think not.”

Morella shook her head. “Not the people here, of course. Velthryn, once they get word. Someone wants us to start a war.”

Sethridge sighed. “If the followers of the Tae’os Pantheon wanted a war, why go through such an unnecessarily complicated process?”

“I never said anything about the followers of Tae’os being the ones who wanted the war.” Morella smirked.

“You think this a third group is orchestrating this.” Lydia nodded.
Well, that explanation is certainly convenient for me.
“Valeria or Selyr, perhaps, hoping to take advantage of the war to expand their own territory?”

Sethridge nodded slowly, his lips tightly pursed. “Possible. Our power has been expanding rapidly. I suppose even those leaf-lovers in Liadra might see us as a growing threat to be quashed. It seems too simple, however.”

“Simple can be effective,” Lydia pointed out. “If it looks like we’re executing a symbol of the Tae’os faith, it’s hard to believe they wouldn’t respond to that.”

“In that case, it’s best to not give them what they want. We should recapture the man, but simply keep him prisoner, rather than have him executed.” Sethridge steepled his fingers.

“I’m not sure Myros will agree to that.” Morella frowned. “But we can try to convince him. The sooner we retrieve the prisoner, the easier that will be.”

“And how will we ensure he doesn’t escape a second time?” Lydia asked, trying to come across as if she was contributing their planning.

Sethridge shrugged. “Sorcery typically requires a tongue.”

Taelien’s doesn’t – his style of casting is more similar to Jonan’s. And he had access to a dominion I had never seen before. A second bond, stronger than his bond to metal.
She still hadn’t quite sorted out what it was.

“Yes, let’s cut out his tongue. That’s not going to antagonize anyone,” Morella said, her voice dripping with acid.

“I take your point,” Sethridge rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. We’ll just use rope next time, and put more guards in his room. Sorcery does not confer invincibility.”

“All right. I’ll see if I can figure out another spell I can use to track him or the sword. If the two of you find anything clues about him, please let me know immediately.” Lydia stood up, nodding to each of the other sorcerers. “I will inform you if I discover anything.”

“Very well, then, Scryer. I wish you Rialla’s luck,” Sethridge said, a mild smile twisting his lips. His smile was twice as unsettling as his accusations had been.

“I will pray that I do not need it,” Lydia replied.

They were the truest words she had spoken in nearly a day.

The sorceress made a cursory effort to search the palace, including visiting Captain Randal to ask basic questions about the prisoner. She also tried to determine Istavan’s current location, but it seemed like no one had encountered him since “Istavan” left with Lydia the night before.

Interesting. Seems like Istavan is up to something of his own.
She wasn’t quite sure if that would be beneficial to her yet. If Istavan had gone to the others and claimed that she had attacked him, at least she could have dealt with that confrontation directly. His absence saved her trouble for the moment, but she knew it could prove a greater problem later.

With that in mind, she checked the armory for any clues about what might have happened to Istavan after their battle. The weapons and items within inside were sorted neatly – all signs of the fight had been removed, and she found no traces of additional sorcery.

I’ll need to investigate this more later,
she considered,
but for now, I have more pressing matters to attend to.

Lydia knocked soundly on the door to Jonan’s borrowed home. Her left hand adjusted her scabbard, her right hand drifting to the hilt to prepare to draw – just in case she was wandering into a trap.

The door swung open, revealing a somewhat disheveled looking Jonan on the other side. “It’s late,” he mumbled. He waved his hand in a loose gesture of welcome. “Come in.”

Lydia didn’t release the grip on her sword until after Jonan had moved out of the way, giving her a better view of the room. Even then, she reminded herself that he could have been hiding any number of invisible attackers. “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate the hidden,” she said as she stepped inside. When no assassins manifested, she nodded to herself and released her grip on the weapon.

“Not very trusting, are you?” Jonan remarked. “Close the door, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Lydia shrugged at his comment, turning and closing the door, and then noting a lock and turning it into position. “You shouldn’t be, either. When you opened the door, it could have been anyone on the other side.”

“I looked through the door before I opened it,” he said, tapping on his glasses meaningfully.

“You have a spell for that?” Lydia perked up in spite of herself. Seeing through objects would be a tremendously useful skill to have.

“Sure,” Jonan said. “It’s just a different application of the same spell that makes me invisible, really.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow dubiously. “That should have made the door invisible to me as well, then, unless you added some sort of key to it.”

“Key? Ptah. You Velryan sorcerers are so inflexible. Always trying to codify things that are easily mutable,” Jonan remarked with a grin.

Lydia folded her arms. “Incantations and keys allow for greater precision. They’re tools for conceptualizing and memorizing things that are difficult to break down into component parts at the time when a spell is cast.”

“Less like tools, more like crutches,” Jonan said with a half-shrug.

“That attitude is why Kesites make great assassins, but Velryans win wars,” Lydia shot back, pushing up her own glasses.

“Oh, which wars exactly? Nevermind – that’s not important,” Jonan said, suddenly shaking his head.

“You’re right,” Lydia said. She added abruptly, “I want you to show me that spell, though. Would you be willing to cast it on me?”

“Why?” Jonan said, quirking a brow. “You won’t perceive any difference.”

Lydia tapped on her left arm. “I’m a sorcerer, too, you know. I have my ways. And don’t try to cast something else – I’ll know.”

“Ahh,” Jonan said, nodding in acknowledgement. “A knowledge sorceress, yes. Of course you’d want me to cast it on you. Very well.”

And, with a nonchalant wave of Jonan’s hand, Lydia was bombarded.

Eyes close. Erase target in mind. Sustain image; target self. Open eyes.

Her Comprehensive Barrier spell had been triggered, as she knew it would be – but the results were far from typical. Usually, she was presented with the name of the dominion of the spell, the name of the spell, and any keys that were used to modify the effect. It seemed that Jonan’s method of sorcery was so distinct from her own that the Dominion of Knowledge itself reacted – and stored the information – differently. Perhaps what she was seeing was a transcription of Jonan’s own thoughts – conscious or unconscious – as he had cast the spell. She had no way of knowing.

She did note immediately, however, that a gesture with a hand was not one of the steps. Was that just a dismissive gesture and not part of the spell itself? Or was it a method that Jonan used to focus, similar to her own incantations?