Blood Lies (Dark Brothers of the Light #9) (18 page)

"I want to change my living arrangements on
the road."

"How so?" Isranon's expression turned
serious.

"I wish to no longer share a tent with
Jingen.

"Because of the trouble between the two of
you? I thought you were friends."

Stygean shook his head. "No. We're not
friends. Never really were."

"The only place I could put you would be in
with the kandoyarin, and that will require Nans' permission."

Stygean drew himself up. He had heard how
rowdy the kandoyarin were, especially the boys and youths among
them. Roughly fifty percent of the kandoyarin, mercenaries, who had
hired on with Nans as auxiliaries, were green troops. "I'm
willing."

"Understand, Stygean, I will not move you
back once I do this. You will have to cope."

"I will." Anything was better than waking up
dead because Jingen had decided to make good on his threats.

Veranoctem 23, 1077

Zorrance let Isranon into his modest suite.
"Welcome, Holy One."

"Isranon. Just Isranon ... or Dawnreturning
if you must."

They moved to the small table in Zorrance's
chambers and settled there. Isranon placed the memory stone in
Zorrance's fingers, and the refugee closed his hand over it. "What
did you see, Zorrance?"

He closed his eyes, turning inward, letting
the image flow into the stone. "Chaos. Women and children
screaming. Smoke filling my nostrils."

"How did they get past the walls? I was in
Charas the day it snowed at mid-summer."

"It happened a year later. The army seemed
to just suddenly appear at the gates."

"The walls. How did they overcome the
walls?"

"They didn't. She was beautiful. Perfection
of the female form. Winged. They called her Zyne. She rose into the
air and sang. Sensual ... seductive ... demanding that we surrender
our will to her. It pulled at me. The guards opened the gates to
her."

"How did you escape it?"

"I felt its pull and resisted. I'm more
attracted to males than females. I focused upon all the men I have
had sexual relations with and that broke her hold upon me. The only
ones who did not fall to her spell were women, corsach – I like
that lycan word for it – and children who had not yet felt the
longings of puberty."

"All women? Anksha can take women as well as
men if they feel the slightest attraction to their own sex." The
nature of Zyne's powers were very similar in effect to Anksha's,
and the more Isranon hunted for differences, the fewer he
found.

"I did not see any women running in Zyne's
direction. I suppose there might have been some."

Isranon nodded thoughtfully. "Go on with
your story."

“They spellcorded every mon they could
catch. Those of us who managed to get out were hunted down and
butchered. But they could not catch all of us. At least a third of
those who made it out reached the Hillora and were brought across.
So far as I can tell, more children than adults survived. Never
underestimate the resourcefulness of a mage-gifted child."

"How did you get out?"

"Sewers. There were seven children and two
adults – both female. When we got out, we encountered a sa'necari
hunting party and scattered in all directions. My fear was so great
that I never registered the smells and such in the sewers. It's
mostly a blank."

"What was her army comprised of?"

"I have no idea. I was in the Hall of Words
at the time. When the screaming started, I fled to the sewers. I
don't remember shoving all those books in my carrying globe, but
somehow I brought the entire library with me. Afterward, it seemed
like a good bargaining tool for wherever I ended up. I still have
it."

"We need to know what kind of forces she
has."

"Ask Alassance. He escaped weeks after the
city fell. He's a street boy and thief by trade. He doesn't have
any major talents, but dozens of little interesting ones."

"Is he among those Father Telamon brought
me?"

"The eleven year old, scruffy black hair.
That's Alassance." Zorrance pushed the crystal across the table to
Isranon. "And he has not been claimed by any of the houses
yet."

"If he wants to come, I'll take him."

"And me also. Take me also. I want some
payback from that bitch."

"I'll not just take you both, I'll make you
part of my house, if you're willing."

Zorrance went to his knees. "Thank you, Holy
One ... Isranon." He reached into his pocket and brought out the
carrying globe. "This is yours. May it aid us all."

"Dynanna was the first god of light to
succor me, and she showed me that outcasts and misfits can prove
useful. Spread word that I will take any and all of the Charisian
refugees who can and wish to fight, regardless of the level of
their talents."

Zorrance bowed his head. "I'm a level four
fire mage with a modest affinity to earth and life forms. I can
scan better than most level sixes. I won't let you down. Every last
one of us is tough, especially Alassance. Our gifts may be trivial
or strange, but we know how to use them to great effect."

"I need mages, especially ones who can think
fast and creatively.

Zorrance lifted his head and smiled. "Then
we'll be there for you."

* * * *

Isranon found Alassance in the rear yard
watching the boys participating in the third of Jeevys' snow
sports. The boy's face was aged beyond its years. His cheeks were
hollow and his eyes hard as chips of obsidian in his pale face.

"Hello, Alassance. Zorrance tells me you're
eleven."

"Twelve." The boy shrugged. "As of two weeks
ago, holy one."

"Isranon. Just Isranon."

"Thank you for the clothes." Alassance
tugged at the cloak and jacket.

"Zorrance tells me you know more than anyone
else what happened in Charas."

"Information is worth good coin. So I
lingered as long as I dared. Three whole weeks I was there. Only no
one believes me. Except Zorrance and Father Telamon. So I've
nothing to show for the risks I took."

"I believe you."

"I haven't told you yet."

"I have met Zyne. General Gryphonheart has
encountered her also."

"I seen her up close. I seen what she does
to the women. Most of them died quick, but some of them survived
... changed." Alassance flinched from his memories, shivering. "I
saw hordes of women crying out for a chance to become one of the
angels like her in full knowledge that they might not survive the
change. It scared me."

Isranon put his arm around Alassance's thin
shoulders. "Let's go to my chambers and talk. It's well shielded.
I'll have Jeevys send up some lunch."

"And some pastries? Maybe some candy?" asked
Alassance hopefully.

Isranon reached into his pocket and came out
with a handful of honey-maple sweets wrapped in waxed paper. He
filled Alassance's hand with it.

The boy's eyes widened, and he quickly
unwrapped two and popped them into his mouth. A look of bliss
suffused his features. "I've missed candy. I don't dare steal in
Ildyrsetts. If I got caught, I'd get Father Telamon in trouble too.
So I've done without."

"You won't need to do without any longer."
Isranon put his arm around Alassance's shoulders again and walked
him back to the front door of the manor. "What you did took courage
and courage is what I need in my efforts to bring down Zyne and
stop the Minnorian invasion."

"You're taking me?"

"As an apprentice and part of my
household."

"Take Zorrance too. He's been good to
me."

"I already have." Isranon gestured at a
servant in passing. "Send lunch for three to my chambers."

The servant bowed and headed for the
kitchen.

"Three?" Alassance glanced up at
Isranon.

"In case you're as hungry as you look."

They continued their slow progress to
Isranon's chambers, and by the time they reached them, the servants
had already been there. A trestle table had been set up beside the
round one in the center. Covered platters were all over it. Three
places had been set.

Alassance got a lopsided grin as he settled
into his chair. He took a two foot length of rope from his pouch,
placed it on the table and spoke to it. The rope re-shaped itself
into a serpent and fetched him a pastry. "It's not much, but it's
my main affinity. I can work with all lengths."

Placing three more lengths of rope on the
table, Alassance soon had them filling his plate for him.

Isranon smiled. "That's very clever." He
started to say something more and noticed that three of the fingers
of Alassance's left hand were stiff. "What happened to your
fingers?"

"Horse stepped on them." Alassance talked
around his food. "Town where the imps were taking over. I let the
animals out of their pens. Picked me out a horse, but he knocked me
down and stepped on my fingers before I could subdue him."
Alassance paused to give a victorious laugh. "I caught him and rode
him all the way to Ildyrsetts."

Isranon grasped Alassance's hand, rubbing
his thumb gently over them. "I can heal them, but there will be
pain involved. I will have to re-break them and burn away the
calcium deposits."

"Like you did for Zorrance?"

"There was no pain for Zorrance. His
troubles did not involve the bones."

"I'm brave. What's a little pain if I can
have the full use of those fingers back."

Isranon studied Alassance, noticing for the
first time a bit of green like a tattoo on his neck, partially
concealed by his hair. He lifted Alassance's hair and laughed. "You
had help getting here, didn't you?"

Alassance flinched and put his hand over the
godmark. "I used to go to her temple, until the day it snowed. She
packed it up, put it in her pocket, and left."

"And you've missed her ever since?"

Alassance nodded, going wary.

Isranon opened his tunic and pointed at the
green question mark squiggle over his heart. "The Trickster likes
me also. So tell me about Zyne. I was there during her creation,
but I'll tell you about that later."

Information began to pour from Alassance
like rain. "She's undead, and she's making more. But the spooky
thing is not all of them are undead. Most just die in the making,
but about a quarter of them don't."

"Not undead?"

"She says she's bringing her race back. But
they still can't make a male to do it with. They say there is a
male out there. Only one ever made. But they're having trouble
finding him."

"Did any of them say his name?"

"Dane Jayce."

Isranon's eyes closed briefly, riding the
memories of the days when Dane Jayce had been his protector and
rescuer in the days before he came into his gifts. He had always
known there was something different about him. "Go on."

"They didn't take Charas to eat folks. They
took it to enslave the mages. You see, Galee has a theory. One like
those top mages get. She believes that if they can turn any of the
descendents of the three brothers early enough in childhood, he can
become another male for them."

The color faded in Isranon's cheeks.

"Darmyk ... my son."

"You did well last night, Stygean." Isranon
led him along a corridor and up another flight of stairs. "I'm
proud of you. Now it's time for another part of your training to
begin."

"Where are we going?"

"The humans call it a salle. They train with
weapons there."

Stygean smiled, feeling he was one up on his
mentor. "I know what that is. My father's myn trained there. You
forget I am not from Waejontor."

"You're right. I do tend to forget that. I
trained with the lycans under Nevin, just like you."

"You trained with the blades?"

"Nevin says I was very good with them."

"Yet you weren't good enough to stop those
sa'necari who attacked you?"

Isranon sighed at Stygean's impertinence. "I
didn't have my blades. Blood-slaves are not allowed them."

"Then how did they have them?"

"Treachery. Let us get back to the subject.
You are going to train with blades even harder than before. I have
decided to give you a set today. I had originally wanted to hold
them back until your next birthday. Among the lycans you are a man
at fourteen and you are given a set of blades, but I want you to
have your own now. We will be riding on in the spring, and the land
beyond Ildyrsetts is dangerous."

Stygean was instantly intrigued by the idea.
"And they won't be bane blades or even hell blades of any
kind?"

"You catch on fast. No, but they are
runed."

"Is Jingen getting a set?"

"No. Jingen is being trained differently.
He's not to be a battlemage like you. Your talents are
different."

"Will I be training with Teague then?"

"Not at first. You'll still be training with
Nevin."

When they entered the salle, Nevin already
had the practice blades out, and on one of the benches lining the
walls was a cloth-wrapped bundle. Isranon took Stygean over to the
bench and gestured at the bundle. "Go on. Test their balance."

Stygean unwrapped them and gasped at the
blue-violet metal. "Kendaryl."

"Yes. Very fine blades."

Two youths and a boy, their faces hidden by
hoods, watched them from the benches, making Stygean uncomfortable.
He strapped on his blades, feeling proud to have them.

"Hey you!" shouted the largest of the three,
a sandy-haired youth a head taller than Stygean with the first
traces of chin hair fuzzing his jawline. "Are you Stygean
Loosestrife?"

All three of the boys threw their hoods
back, revealing their faces and grinning.