Blood Divided, page 8
I sifted through my past life memories, recalling a man with black hair and green eyes, much more comfortable wielding words than weapons, although the few times I’d sparred with him, he’d been competent enough with a sword.
“I don’t have many memories of him,” I shook my head, “aside from our final moments together and the knowledge of what he did after we were forced to flee.” I looked at Kyra as her blue eyes darkened; she was clearly remembering the same awful things I knew of the man. “Hopefully I’ll recall more, but I can’t predict when memories are going to resurface.”
“He was an Astral historian,” said Kyra. “I think I interacted with him a few times while I was training under Gathalia, before I became queen, but I don’t recall anything specific . . . it’s more like a feeling than a memory. I do remember him at castle festivals and holiday celebrations, though; he was always social and seemed to know everything about everyone.”
“Tallus was indeed a historian,” nodded Batty. “No one knew more about the blood feud between Astrals and Daevals than him . . . he lost his family during a Daeval raid on his settlement when he was very young.” Batty turned to me. “You were not involved in the raid,” he said, which made me feel somewhat better, although it also would have explained Tallus’s hatred towards me. “He oversaw the drafting of the Blood Treaty, but he never supported improving relationships between Astrals and Daevals. In hindsight, I believe he was always searching for a way to undermine your reign, but I did not become aware of his intentions in time to prevent his terrible deeds.”
The bat scratched the golden mantle of fur around his neck. “He was also incredibly secretive about his particular gifts. I suspect he had the ability to see the future, or at least some part of it, but I do not know for certain. Of course, shades do not always return with the same abilities, but we should keep it in mind.”
“According to Laycus, it’s highly unusual Sebastian and I returned looking like our former selves,” said Kyra, spearing a large mushroom. “Is there any chance Tallus will look the same, as well?”
“There is always a chance,” shrugged the bat, “but it is far more likely he’ll look completely different.”
“Then how will we recognize him?” I drummed my fingers against the white tablecloth.
“I do not know.” Batty shook his head. “If he remembers his past life, there is a better chance he will recognize the two of you and reveal himself at a time of his choosing.”
The fire stirred in my veins at the thought of Tallus walking alongside Kyra in her realm without her even knowing it, and I tossed my napkin beside my plate.
“You have to give up internship.”
Kyra blinked at me.
“I can’t protect you in Aeles,” I explained. “Here, I know you’re safe.”
“I appreciate that,” she replied, “but I can’t just sit around your cave all day. I have responsibilities, and—”
“—Someone else can handle them,” I insisted. “It’s only until Tallus reveals himself. You’ll still have plenty of time to complete internship and become the Princeps Shaman.”
Kyra set down her fork. “We’re not even certain Tallus has returned and is in a position to reveal himself. And it’s not just about me completing internship. Working with Senator Rex is our best chance of learning where the experimentation facility is located, which is the first step towards shutting it down.”
I’d assumed Kyra knew finding the facility would be the easiest part of ending the heinous Astral project, but clearly this was an example of when it was better to talk things through instead of making assumptions about what the other knew.
“I haven’t been waiting to end that program because I don’t know where the facility is,” I told her. “Batty was with me in Rynstyn . . . he knows exactly where the facility is.”
Batty nodded.
“And,” I added, “even if he didn’t, Adonis told us he found military records mentioning the facility. I’m certain he could find coordinates. The challenge has always been getting inside, obtaining evidence of what Astrals are doing, and getting back out.”
Kyra tilted her head to one side. “You’re saying you know where the facility is located . . . and you have a suppressor medallion that lets you bypass the Aelian Blood Alarm. Why haven’t you gone back and destroyed everything?” She held up a hand. “I’m not asking because I’m surprised you’ve been able to control yourself. You know I don’t think Daevals are like that. And I’m certainly not advocating violence . . . although I suppose it’s possible you’re rubbing off on me.”
One side of her mouth rose in a quick smile before her expression turned serious.
“If I’ve learned anything these past few weeks, it’s that everything doesn’t always fit neatly into a right or wrong category,” she continued, and conflicting emotions swirled across her face. “I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you. I want the Astrals who tortured you punished. And if I want that, and I wasn’t even the one to suffer . . . if I endured what you did and suddenly found a way to enact revenge on those who’d hurt me, I don’t know if I could stop myself from taking justice into my own hands.”
It was odd hearing Kyra conflicted when it came to any sort of violence, especially given how much she despised what I did for a living, but I appreciated her working to see things from another point of view. I, too, had changed over the past few weeks, considering things I previously never would have and realizing I could still be surprised by what turned out to be the truth.
“I’ve certainly considered going back and burning everything to the ground.” I studied the flame of a candle as it flickered and swayed. “But destroying a building or two isn’t the same as ending the program. I could turn the entire facility to ash, and whoever’s in charge would just start again somewhere else. Sometimes you have to postpone a battle in order to win the war, even if it’s a battle you want to fight and would most likely win.”
Kyra mulled over my words before letting out a deep exhale. “Alright, well, even if I don’t need to find coordinates to the facility, I still can’t quit internship and leave Aeles.”
“Why not?”
Kyra brought her gaze to mine. “Remember when I told you about finding the suppressor medallion?”
I nodded.
“I didn’t tell you the truth,” she cringed. “At the time, I didn’t know you, so it seemed wise to keep some things to myself, but now that we’re together, you should know . . . I found the medallion in my father’s healing kit.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, and Aurelius leaned closer, rubbing his head against her shoulder.
“My father was working with Senator Rex on a project comparing gold and silver blood.” Her voice was thick with pent-up emotion. “There’s a good chance my father knew about the facility in Rynstyn. I . . . I . . .” A tear streamed down her face, and she gratefully accepted the handkerchief Batty quickly pulled from a wing pocket and offered her.
“I didn’t want to tell you until I knew more.” She dabbed her cheeks with the handkerchief. “If my father was involved, he might have played a role in what you experienced in Aeles. I didn’t want you to hate me.” Her last words were little more than a whisper.
“We have no proof of your father’s involvement,” Aurelius said, clearly wanting me to hear him, as he hadn’t confined his remark to telepathy.
While some part of me—the part that had been Kareth’s closest confidante—wished Kyra had told me sooner, I also couldn’t fault her . . . as someone who regularly parceled out the truth to suit my needs, I understood her desire to acquire incontrovertible evidence before sharing it.
Kyra shifted in her chair, pulled out a captum, and touched the single lens a few times before offering it to me. I placed the monocle-like device before my eye, studying the moving images for a familiar face, even though I knew recognizing Kyra’s father would present a challenge to our relationship I wasn’t certain how to handle.
“You didn’t react to the pictures of my father in my apartment,” she said in a tight voice, “but that was also before I told you the truth about the medallion, so you might not have been looking closely.” I watched as the man before me described brewing a healing potion, noting his long black hair and dark skin, similar to Kyra’s, as well as his amber eyes and frequent smile.
After a few seconds, I handed the captum back.
“I’ve never seen him before,” I assured her, and while I thought that would settle things, tears reappeared in Kyra’s eyes as she shook her head.
“Just because you didn’t see him doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved! Working with Senator Rex is the only way I can know for sure. I can’t just up and leave Aeles, Sebastian. I can’t.” She quickly hid her face behind her hands as she began crying again.
Aurelius glared at me before gesturing towards Kyra with his head, and Batty caught my eye before pantomiming a hug as Nerudian sniffled loudly. I quickly rose and made my way to Kyra, pulling her up and wrapping my arms around her, which seemed to have been the right thing to do, even though it took her a moment to stop crying.
“We are not our parents,” I said, hoping she heard the sincerity in my voice. “There’s nothing you could tell me about your family that would change my feelings for you.” I thought how hard I worked to be different from my father, to the point that I’d paid a Nocenian magistrate a significant amount of money to change my last name as soon as I’d been old enough, taking my mother’s surname instead of my father’s. “You saw my dream,” I added. “I don’t want to be judged on my father’s actions. I would never judge you for your father’s.”
Kyra let out a shaky exhale before raising her gaze to mine. “Thank you for taking it so well,” she said. “Aurelius has been trying to get in touch with Flavius, my father’s Cypher—former Cypher—but hasn’t been able to reach him, which means the poor wolf is probably still grieving. Until I can speak with him, working with Senator Rex is the best way for me to either clear my father’s name . . . or accept I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.” Anguish filled her eyes, but she drew a resolute breath. “Working with the senator is also our best chance of getting inside the facility and finding the evidence we need to end that experimentation program for good.”
If anyone stood a chance of getting in and out of the clandestine facility without arousing suspicion, I supposed it would be an Astral working for the Aelian government, but I wasn’t so certain that Astral needed to be Kyra. I also wasn’t certain having evidence of what Astrals were doing to my kind would be enough to end the program, given that the fact it still existed meant it was supported by at least some very powerful golden bloods.
Kyra turned to Batty. “I’ll keep doing what I can to get an invitation to visit the facility, and since we can’t force Tallus to reveal himself, it sounds like we’ll just have to be patient and keep our eyes open. In the meantime, what can we do about reuniting the realms?”
9
SEBASTIAN
“Tallus used the Fragmen Incanta, or Breaking Incantation, to physically divide the realms,” said Batty as Kyra and I returned to our seats. “In Aeles, the eastern borders of Rynstyn, Iscre, and Aravost used to be connected to what are now the far western edges of Nocens, specifically the territories of Brengwyn, Dal Mar, and Jaasfar. The breaking of the realm allowed the sea to fill the space between the two lands, but the natural state of Aeles and Nocens is to be together. They are not meant to exist separately, and I would not be surprised if we continue seeing signs of their increasing instability.”
“What kind of signs?” asked Kyra, reaching for her water glass.
“Earthquakes, floods, avalanches, snow when it should be warm, droughts capable of drying up rivers . . . I’m surprised the realms have managed to survive apart this long.” Batty shook his head sadly.
Kyra stiffened and set down her glass. “Laycus said my father died at his appointed time, which means that earthquake in Aravost was supposed to happen, but do you think it could have been the result of instability in Aeles?” Her eyes widened. “There was just an avalanche in Montem too. Do you think it’s also related?”
“I do,” Batty replied in a far more serious voice than I was used to hearing from the creature. “And I expect more such disasters to occur the longer the realms are apart, which is another reason we must reunite them.” A piece of red licorice appeared in the bat’s grasp, and he dipped it in the bowl of sugar before continuing.
“When the realms were united, your home was in a place called Velaire. The ruins of your former castle exist in Aeles, in the province of Montem, north of the Nebosa River and west of the Umbra Pass.”
Kyra narrowed her eyes while wrinkling her nose, a gesture I recognized indicating she was deep in thought. “I’ve been to the area you’re describing with my father to heal patients, and I don’t recall any ruins. There’s a sacred grove the Gifters of Aeles once visited in corporeal form, but it’s off-limits to visitors.”
Batty nodded before shoving the last of the sugar-covered candy into his mouth, and Kyra’s eyes widened. “Are you saying the story about the Gifters and a sacred grove isn’t true?”
“That story was created to keep anyone from excavating your former home,” said Batty, pushing himself up and crossing the table to gently pat Kyra’s hand. I knew how she felt. Over the last few weeks, I’d seen one after another of the formative beliefs I’d grown up holding proven to be no more than myth.
“The Gifters may be very real indeed,” Batty assured Kyra, who appeared positively crestfallen, “and this does not mean they never visited Aeles, but they have nothing to do with what I am describing.”
“So, I’m assuming we have to visit these ruins,” I prompted, ready to know what would be expected of me so I could decide exactly how difficult it was going to be.
“Yes,” nodded the bat. “You and Kyra will need to return to your former home. You will need to establish who you are, but that won’t be more difficult than the blood sample you gave when retrieving Rhannu.”
Kyra smiled at me. “We’ll make sure you aren’t wearing a suppressor medallion this time.” While I knew she was trying to make light of the situation, her smile faltered as she spoke.
Recalling how she’d nearly died at the hands of the spelled creatures I’d created to protect Rhannu from being taken by anyone but myself—spelled creatures that had appeared because the medallion had hidden my blood and therefore my identity—I reached across the table and took Kyra’s hand.
“We’ll be much more prepared,” I agreed. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” she said. “I won’t let anything happen to you, either.” Determination shone from her eyes and—given that she had single-handedly recovered my shade following my untimely death—I knew she meant every word.
“Once there,” continued the bat, “you will need to take Rhannu and insert it into the Cor’Lapis stone.”
The name didn’t spark any recognition, even in my past life memories, and when Kyra looked confused, I couldn’t keep my annoyance in check. “You expect us to dig around in ruins hundreds of years old and find one particular stone?” Even by the low standards I maintained towards Batty, this was ridiculous.
“Yes,” he said. “The Cor’Lapis stone is the heart of Aeles-Nocens. It was used in the foundation of your castle.”
“We didn’t know that and it was our castle!” I exclaimed. “How do you know?”
“Because I ensured the stone was included during construction,” shrugged the bat. “But that is neither here nor there. What matters is finding the stone.”
“If the castle was destroyed, couldn’t the stone have been destroyed too?” worried Kyra.
“The fact that Aeles and Nocens continue to exist is proof the stone still exists,” assured Batty. “If it was gone, both realms would have ceased to function, and we would not be having this discussion. The Cor’Lapis lies somewhere in the ruins of Velaire.”
“Once we reach the ruins, do you know how to find the stone?” I asked.
“Yes, but the difficult part will be entering the ruins.” Batty dipped the end of a wing directly into the bowl of sugar and shoveled a small pile into his mouth. “The last time I checked, there were spells in place to send an alert whenever anyone stepped beyond a certain point.”
“Probably cast by Tallus at some point,” scowled Kyra.
Batty nodded. “After placing Rhannu in the Cor’Lapis stone and applying your blood to it, you will then need to recite the Ligarum Incanta, or Binding Incantation. The combination will reunite the realms, rejoining the two physically.”
“I don’t recall seeing that incantation written anywhere.” Kyra glanced at me nervously.
“It is recorded in the Chronicles, and that book is spelled to be indestructible,” smiled Batty.
“Well, that’s a relief.” Kyra returned the bat’s smile. “Finally, some good news!”
“Yes,” said Batty, “now all we have to do is find the book.”
“What do you mean, find the book?” I demanded. “We escaped from Tallus with the Chronicles! What happened to it after that?”
“It was lost in the centuries following your deaths,” the bat sighed. “I did my best to keep track of it—Nerudian and I both did—but things happen you cannot always control.”
Nerudian nodded vigorously before bringing his head beside the table, the breath from his nostrils immediately extinguishing the dinner candles. “A few hundred years ago, miners discovered the cave Batty and I were sharing in Brengwyn. Batty came to warn me, waking me and allowing me to escape without being discovered, but, alas, the book was not so fortunate.”
“I tried to stop the miners,” offered Batty apologetically, “but I was unsuccessful.” His wings drooped. “The book changed hands—and realms—so many times, I do not know what became of it.”
I rolled my eyes, and Kyra shot me a look. “You saved Nerudian’s life,” she said to the bat. “That’s far more important than any book.”
