Forging Divinity Page 12

  Her return to the palace had been uneventful. The guards didn’t ask her any questions on her way back in, nor did they show any signs of suspicion. That didn’t mean that no one suspected her, but apparently no one had given orders to arrest her on sight. She had sealed her door and window with protection sorcery before going to sleep.

  As she finished preparing to leave, Lydia noticed a note on the floor – apparently, someone had slipped it under the door while she slept. Someone slipped something inside without me noticing? I must be getting soft in my old age, Lydia chided herself.

  Shaking her head, Lydia picked up the letter, inspecting the wax seal on the back – a stylized letter “M”. Morella. Huh.

  Lydia’s mind pushed itself further toward wakefulness as she processed the significance of the note. Morella had always been something of an enigma – she had always come across as extremely loyal to the interests of the city, but she rarely wanted to work with others. And Sethridge thinks she’s involved with Taelien somehow, she reminded herself.

  Lydia broke the seal, sitting back down on her bed to read the letter.

  Court Sorceress Scryer,

  I have pertinent information for you, as well as questions. Meet me at my chambers at your soonest convenience.

  -Morella

  Lydia considered the content of the note, folding it and setting it down on a nearby table. It was odd that Morella was referring to her by her title. The contents were vague, too, but that was a good precaution in case the note was intercepted somehow.

  Maybe I need to make some preparations of my own, Lydia considered. Jonan could be watching me through the walls right now, invisible, and I would be completely unaware. And he’s probably not working alone.

  Lydia remembered that Jonan claimed to use mirrors for most of his reconnaissance, but that didn’t mean that it was the only way he could use his sorcery. If he could mark mirrors, there was nothing saying he couldn’t do the same to any glass or crystalline structure – like any one of the numerous windows or statues in the palace.

  Time for a quick test to see if I’m being watched. Lydia walked to the mirror by the side of her bed, subconsciously lifting a hand to adjust her glasses. “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate that which is touched by your cousins.”

  There was no change in the surface of her mirror, nor did she see a telltale aura on the glass of her window. On a hunch, Lydia glanced at the note Morella sent her, but she did not detect any signs of sorcery on that, either.

  Well, I suppose sometimes a note is just a note. Something still nagged at the back of her mind, telling her she was missing something important, but she couldn’t quite place what it was.

  While Lydia continued to ponder the note, she left her room, locking it on the way out. The halls were near to empty, indicating it was even later than she had expected – but the noise from the dining hall told her that she had not yet missed the tail end of dinner.

  With her rank, Lydia was able to skip to the head of the small dinner line that remained, retrieving a helping of boiled beef and seasoned potatoes. She could have easily ordered something to be cooked for her, but she never liked to make people go out of their way. She went to the kitchen next, setting down her tray of food, and brewed her tea herself – partly to save the cooks the trouble, and partly because she preferred to make it to her own tastes.

  As she finally settled down to eat at a small table in the dining hall, Veruden sat down next to her with a plate and mug of his own. Lydia tensed for just a moment before turning to send a polite half-smile at him. “Veruden,” she acknowledged. “How’s your hand?”

  “Doin’ better now, thanks,” he said, displaying his bandaged hand and opening and closing it. Presumably, he was displaying that he had regained some movement in his fingers, but she didn’t know how bad it had been before. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

  Well, actually–

  “No, not at all,” Lydia said, taking a sip of her tea. She winced at the heat of the liquid, but she forced herself to swallow it.

  “You ever figure out anything about the sword, or the prisoner?”

  Time to see how much he knows. “Not much. I tried testing the sword with a basic identification spell, but it nearly knocked me out. After that, I ran into Istavan and spent some time catching up with him.”

  Veruden blinked. “Istavan’s back? Bugger never tells me anything,” he lamented, poking his fork into the top of an ambitious stack of potatoes that strove toward the skies. “I’m always the last one to hear anything. But you know Istavan. He likes to keep us guessing.”

  Okay, good. Istavan didn’t talk to Veruden yet, at least. Lydia adjusted her glasses, thinking. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t realize he was back until I ran into him.”

  “Huh. Maybe he’s on some kind of secret assignment. I guess he could be doing something for Edon or M--,” he started, but Lydia raised a finger in a silencing gesture.

  “Public,” she said meaningfully. Veruden sat up straighter suddenly, startled.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said hastily, “I lose track sometimes. Guess we can talk more about this stuff later, then,” he said, grinning fiercely.

  “Yeah,” Lydia said, forcing a slightly more genuine smile than she had presented before. He seems sincere in his concern, at least. I wonder if he’s lying about not knowing Istavan is back in the city. I wish I had a spell for detecting lies...But different people have different tells. Maybe I could start with my Illuminate Hidden spell and add a Deception Key and a Stability Key to make a persistent effect that detects the use of the Dominion of Deception...But would a simple lie be enough to trigger it?

  They ate a while longer in silence, eventually dipping back into small talk until Lydia finished her meal and excused herself. She wanted to pry for more information, but caution was a greater concern for the moment. Too many lives depended on her proper handling of this situation.

  If I take a step in the wrong direction now, I may end up starting the war I came here to prevent, Lydia realized.

  She went toward Morella’s chambers next, still considering the vague contents and oddly inconsistent formality of the note.

  As she approached Morella’s door, Lydia paused, still feeling an itching at the back of her mind that something was very wrong. Can’t be too careful, she told herself. “Dominion of Protection, fold against my skin and teach me the secrets of the dominions that assault you.”

  Lydia felt a chill as the spell completed, a translucent barrier flickering against her flesh for a moment before fading into invisibility. The Comprehensive Barrier spell was her own creation. It was a combination of a standard Protective Barrier spell and Key based on a famous Dominion of Knowledge spell, Intuitive Comprehension. A spell invented by Donovan Tailor, when he was a priest of Sytira, Lydia recalled. Awkward to be using one of his spells, now that I might be working against him. I suppose the sorcerers of old must have run into that type of problem all the time, though, especially in the rebellions against Xixis.

  Constructing spells was one of Lydia’s specialties. She had studied the eastern method of Dominion Sorcery, better known as “Velryan Battle Sorcery”. That style of magic utilized incantations, a series of words that were spoken aloud to focus the mind on the intended effect. The words themselves were irrelevant – the sorcerer simply used them to quickly force their mind into the right state. From there, the body would attempt to utilize the spells and Keys the sorcerer had spoken of by drawing on the appropriate dominions.

  Spells could be categorized in a number of different ways, but Velryan Battle Sorcerers split them into fundamental spells and complex spells. Fundamental spells created basic effects that only drew from a single section of a single dominion. A simple burst of heat from the flame dominion or a barrier from the Dominion of Protection fell into this category. Complex spells were fundamental spells that had been augmented through the use of Keys – sorcerous fragments that could not be used on their own, but
could be added to fundamental spells to change their function. A Flame Key could be added to a barrier spell to make it more potent against fire, or a Wall Key could be added to change the spell’s shape.

  The Comprehensive Barrier’s function was relatively simple – it would draw from the Dominion of Protection to block attacks, and if the attacks were sorcerous in nature, the Key she used from the Dominion of Knowledge would immediately inform her of composition of the spell. Her mind would interpret this information as readable text in her vision, similar to how her other identifying spells functioned. Not only did this allow her to analyze the spells of her enemies for developing countermeasures, the knowledge she gained was potentially sufficient to allow her to try to cast the spells herself – if her connections to the relevant dominions were strong enough.

  Increasing strength at sorcery worked much like exercising a muscle – it required constant practice, but attempting to do too much at once could strain the sorcerer, potentially causing temporary or permanent damage.

  Where most sorcerers struggled to maintain their conditioning with one dominion, Lydia actively practiced with five – improving her power at each gradually over time.

  The barrier was one of Lydia’s favorite spells, and she used it at least once per day in spite of the fatigue it caused her. In her sparring practices at the Citadel of Blades, Lydia had managed to train to block as many as three attacks with a single use of the barrier. Now, two years later, she expected that she could block at least twice that – assuming the spells were of a similar magnitude to what she was used to. More powerful spells – or physical attacks with greater force – would weaken the barrier more easily.

  With the reassuring tingle of the barrier against her skin, Lydia walked the rest of the way to Morella’s door and knocked politely. Silence followed for several moments, but Lydia waited patiently, and the door swung open after a modest period of trepidation.

  Morella stood in the doorway, with Sethridge looming just beyond her. Morella was wearing a simple green dress, but Sethridge was in his formal robes.

  “Oh, Lydia, come in,” Morella said, giving an uncharacteristic smile.

  Calling me Lydia now? That’s not that unusual, but she was very formal in the note.

  “Thank you,” Lydia said, stepping inside. Morella closed the door behind her immediately and beckoned Lydia toward one of three empty chairs at a nearby table. A quick glance told Lydia that nothing in the room seemed overtly out of place – Morella’s bookshelves were a bit more bare than usual, but that probably just meant she had taken out a few books and put them in another room for research.

  Lydia took the seat nearest the door and Sethridge silently moved to sit across from her.

  “Can I get you anything? Tea?” Morella asked, wandering to the archway that marked the entrance to her bedroom. Morella had been serving Orlyn for several years, and Lydia knew that Morella’s quarters were more extensive than her own – she had three full-sized rooms, as well as her own private water closet.

  “No, thank you, I just came from dinner,” Lydia explained, resting her hands on the table.

  “We should get on with this, Morella. This is important business,” Sethridge said.

  “There’s no need to be rude about it,” Morella insisted, taking the third seat. “Lydia, the prisoner is missing.”

  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 c
ould 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.”