The Black Shriving (Chronicles of the Black Gate Book 2) (68 page)

Asho was unsure if her question was rhetorical. Almost he held his tongue. "Kethe said that she no longer believed in Ascension, my lady. That she was proud to follow you no matter the consequences."

Iskra smiled. "Oh Kethe. But it's true. I see it now. Ascension has always claimed that those born into a higher station were more spiritual evolved. Yet what I've always seen is Ennoians, Sigeans, and Aletheians using their higher station as justification for their depravity. I don't know. Perhaps I now seek excuses of my own to justify my alliance with the Agerastians." She wrung the cloth of its water. "I've sworn an allegiance with their emperor. I have declared war on the Empire."

Asho nodded somberly. "I think you might have done that the moment you refused to submit to Lord Laur."

Iskra smiled again, a brittle expression, and mopped his brow once more. "Perhaps. But enough of my doubts. What of Elon? The servants?"

"They descended to Hrething after we convinced them they couldn't be of help against the demons." Asho closed his eyes as a wave of nausea passed through him. "They await us there."

"What happened, Asho?" Lady Kyferin's voice was quiet, filled with wonder and disbelief. "Why this sudden attack? What happened up at Skarpheðinn Range? The Black Shriving is meant to still be weeks and weeks away."

So Asho told her. In sparse, simple language, he spoke of their ascent, their fights, their discovery of the tunnels and the Black Gate at their bottom. Of the demon lord, his promise, and Mæva's sacrifice. How he and Kethe had fled down the mountain. Then, at Lady Kyferin's urging, he told her how he and Kethe had fought off the demons till Audsley flew into the fray, launching fire.

"Wait." Lady Kyferin sat back. "Audsley? He flew? Threw fire?"

"Yes," said Asho, his throat starting to burn from talking so much. "He and the Agerastians helped turn the tide so that Kethe and I could launch our attack."

"He made no mention of these new powers." She rose to her feet, and Asho thought she would stride away, but instead she turned back and stood over him. "But then I didn't give him much of a chance to talk. It must have happened during his stay at Starkadr. Why did he not speak to us of this? Ser Tiron!"

Her voice was pure command. A few moments later Ser Tiron strode up, hand on the hilt of his sword, face grim, his brows lowered. "What's wrong?"

"Audsley. Did he speak to you of learning any supernatural abilities while he was in Starkadr?"

Tiron looked relieved. "Why - yes. He spoke of demon-possessed objects that allowed him to kill a demon. Why?"

Asho rose to his elbows. "I didn't see him using any objects. The fire came directly from his palms."

The three of them gazed at each other in stunned silence till Tiron shook his head. "Whatever he has learned, he is our friend and ally." Tiron paused, a thought occurring to him. "He told me that Aedelbert had fled him after he killed the demon." Tiron rubbed his chin. "Perhaps his firecat sensed this change."

"If he has acquired the ability to Sin Cast, or something along those lines, then I have sent him to his death. I've sent him to Aletheia." Iskra pressed her hands to the sides of her face and sank back down to sit by Asho's side.

"He said something else," said Tiron. "That he and Aedelbert would seek healing there. At the time I thought he meant their relationship. Perhaps he was alluding to something else." Tiron scowled. "I should have questioned him more closely."

"No, you were nearly collapsing from exhaustion. This isn't on you, Tiron. I'm the one who acted too precipitously. I've doomed Audsley, and through him I've killed Kethe."

Tiron crouched by her side and took her hand. "Hold on. You don't know that. I've never met a man more intelligent than our magister. Brave, as well, in his own way. Whatever has happened to him, he'll use his wits and every resource at his disposal to take care of Kethe. You have to believe that, Iskra."

Asho felt a jolt of alarm and sat up. "Wait. Isn't he the only one who can open Starkadr's Portals? If he's arrested by the Aletheians, then how are we to connect with Agerastos?"

Both Lady Kyferin and Tiron stared at him blankly for a moment, then Tiron rose to his feet. "Enough. We must trust in Audsley. That is all we can do."

Lady Kyferin sank her head into her hands. "Why didn't he reveal the truth to me?"

"Come," said Tiron gruffly. "Let's step outside, my lady."

He helped her rise to her feet, and Asho saw her eyes, wild with shock though the rest of her face was blank of expression. Ser Tiron took her by the arm and gently escorted her out.

Asho wanted to sink back onto his pallet, but instead he forced himself to take a deep breath and rose shakily to his feet. He stood swaying, about to give up the attempt, when Alasha hurried over from where she had been tending her two fallen comrades and took his arm.

"You shouldn't be up," she said.

"I can't sit around." The room swam, and he struggled to steady himself. "How long will I feel like this?"

"This bad? Three or four days." Alasha helped him stumble across the great hall, her arm surprisingly strong beneath his own. "In a week, you'll be able to walk by yourself. A week after that, run a little. Within a month, all the illness will have passed. We have discovered that lying in cold running water helps clear the taint from one's body for some reason. You'll be spending a fair amount of time in rivers over the next few weeks. And, oh, don't be alarmed if you piss blood for a few days."

Asho gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand straight. "This is how you all feel when you cast magic?"

"No," said Alasha. "We are trained to stop casting long before we get as sick as you."

Asho nodded, thinking of bringing up how he had seen Agerastian Sin Casters hurling black fire and then keeling over at the battle where Lord Kyferin had fallen, and decided to hold his peace. "You speak Ennoian very well. Do all Agerastians?"

"No, hardly," said Alasha. It was clear she was pleased with the compliment. "I learned as a child in my uncle's palace. Before I manifested the talent for casting magic."

"Your uncle's palace?" Asho stopped walking and turned to regard her. "The emperor? You're the emperor's niece?"

Alasha nodded and took his arm, then moved him forward and out of the great hall. "I am. His bloodline has always shown a talent for magic. He claims we are descended from medusas, and perhaps we are. My mother, Ilina, is the al-Vothak, the leader of the... Sin Casters, as you say, in my uncle's absence."

Sweat was running down Asho's back. He wanted to lie back down, and was about to ask that they return to the hall when he saw his black sword propped up against one of the courtyard's slender trees. He immediately clenched his jaw. He wanted to turn away from the blade, but knew that he needed its strength. With Kethe gone, he needed it more than ever.

A memory came to mind. Mæva, desperate, reaching for him, eye wild.
"She found me on the verge of death and made me an offer. I accepted. Because of her... I live."

Locking that memory away, Asho hobbled over to it, Alasha guiding him, and reached down and pulled the blade from its scabbard. This time the runes did not immediately catch fire, but rather smoldered a deep burgundy. For the first time that morning Asho drew a true deep breath, the cramps in his chest easing.

I am pleased that you survived,
said the sword.

Yes,
thought Asho.
In part due to your help. Thank you.

He heard laughter echo in his mind.
A bitter gratitude. No matter. You now know my worth.

"Asho?" Alasha was frowning at him, her head canted to one side as if she could almost hear their exchange.

I do
, said Asho.
Do you have a name?

I do not need one.

"Asho? Are you all right?"

Asho started and slid the sword back into the scabbard. It wasn't that his pain and illness had been healed; more that possessing the blade increased his tolerance for feeling sick. Made him stronger. He laboriously belted the blade at his hip. "I'm feeling better, thank you."

Alasha was studying the sword. "I've never seen or heard of the like. I meant to ask you about it. What is this blade?"

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. Audsley found it in the rooms below, just outside the Portal to Starkadr. Someone died escaping the mage's stonecloud with it in their hand."

Alasha nodded slowly. "Starkadr. I had but a glimpse. A terrifying place. Inhuman. I doubt anything good could come from such a place."

Asho looked down at his sword. "I'd be inclined to agree." He was seized suddenly by a desire to see the Portal. An urge, if not to say goodbye to Kethe, then at least to bear witness to where she had gone, and to the perils she would now face. "Excuse me, Alasha. I need a moment alone."

"Of course," said the woman stiffly. "But I had hoped to ask you questions about your bond to Kethe. About how she protected you."

"And I'll be happy to answer. But not just yet."

Alasha nodded, lips pursing into a narrow line, then turned to stride back into the great hall. Asho watched her go. She wasn't one to take rebuttals lightly, this imperial Alasha.

Putting her out of his mind, Asho entered the storage room and slowly descended the steps to the chambers below. He was shaking and covered in sweat by the time he reached the bottom, his gorge threatening to rise once more. The blade kept him on his feet however. He could feel it infusing him with a subtle strength.

Again a memory surfaced in his mind. The sound of Ashurina yowling, rising up to claim Mæva as she stabbed herself in the chest.

"Stop it," he whispered angrily. "This is different. I've not struck any deal."

Was that laughter he heard in the deep recesses of his mind?

He reached the bottom and wave of disappointment passed through him, and he nearly laughed at himself. Had he really expected the Portal to be standing open, a last chance for him to dart after Kethe into Aletheia? Instead it stood empty, dead. As useless to him as any empty archway.

Pushing off the wall, he approached the Portal and stood before it. Without Audsley, it would stand inert for another three weeks till its moon phase came back around, at which point it would open again to Starkadr. Without Audsley even that was a useless development. Nobody but the magister could divine which Portal to use from there or how to open it.

I can instruct you on how to open the Portal, Asho. You need but repeat the name of the demon bound within it.

"You know that name?" Asho's didn't bother trying to hide his shock, didn't care that he was speaking aloud. "And that of those within Starkadr?"

I do.

Excitement washed through him. A heady, dark impetuousness. "Do so."

Say this name exactly as I pronounce it:
Akressat M'chazk
.

Asho tried, and found himself coughing. The sounds, sibilant and awful in his mind, tortured his throat for some reason when he tried to speak them.

The name carries power. Voicing it is a command, and requires a strong will. Few can do so.

"
Akressat M'chazk
," said Asho, his voice shaking badly.

The Portal immediately flooded with undulating blackness, and Asho stepped back, at once afraid and stunned. He had done it.

"Can you open a Portal to Aletheia?" he asked nervously.

From within Starkadr, I can. Pass through. I will show you.

It was madness. Rank madness. But Asho didn't stop to think. He felt again that desire to throw himself headlong into danger, that same urge that had made him sprint into the demon lord's chamber. He saw Kethe's face as she fell, her vitality snuffed out, her body limp in his arms.
Kethe
. He would find her. He strode through the Portal, and for the first time entered the massive hall of Starkadr.

The air there was chill, and as Asho stumbled and tried to take in the scope of the space he'd entered, he found that he'd drawn the blade. Its runes were fiery, and as he turned it from one side to another, the sword left streaks of fire behind it.

"This is Starkadr?" He'd never imagined it would look like this. He craned his head back to take in the huge pillar of Portals, then, heart pounding, stomach stewing, he looked out over the ground fog and saw the countless corpses lying slumped within it.

Welcome to Starkadr, master. Would you go to Aletheia now?

"I - yes. I mean. Wait."

What was he doing? The nausea and pain was there, but now it was hidden behind a wall of force. A wall of strength. He was drawing more strongly from the blade. Had been doing for some time now without realizing it.

And now that he was here, surrounded by the alien vastness of Starkadr, he felt doubt trickling into him. What was he going to do in Aletheia? He'd be immediately stopped and questioned as to his business. The fact that he was carrying a sword would lead to his arrest. A Bythian with a weapon? In Aletheia? He felt his weak hope and feverish determination collapse under the weight of reality.

"No. No, I can't. I wouldn't be able to help her. I'd just make things worse."