Secrets of Arkana Fortress (32 page)

              Her sudden use of words halted the sword-wielding guard in her tracks. ‘What?’

              ‘What have I done? Where the heck am I?’ The woman spoke in a thick, tropical accent not native to the region.

              ‘Where are you from?’ asked the guard, a softness toning over her voice.

              ‘I… I am from Yokitos.’

              This was even more stunning than what had happened. A Yokiton out here? The city was unheard of after it closed its borders all those years ago.

              Mikos lifted Byde up by his shoulders and dusted him off. ‘You need a change of clothes – they’re all soaked… me too.’ He observed himself and rung off parts of his jacket.

              ‘Time for that later. We should go.’

              ‘What? What for? Shouldn’t we hang around and take the glory seeing as we just showed these people a cure?’

              ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now we need to move.’ He was very urgent, as well as agitated all of a sudden.

              ‘Byde? What the hell’s wrong?’

              He leaned in to Mikos and whispered firmly. ‘When I brought that woman back into sanity I felt something… not right.’

              ‘Well of course you did. Wouldn’t that have been the Psyloss?’

              ‘Not that. Listen… I told you about my theory on the magic, right?’

              ‘The ancient dark stuff? Yeah.’

              ‘I felt that, and something more.’

              ‘Like what exactly?’ Mikos squared up to his friend, concerned.

              ‘Someone, or something, dark spoke to me… they now know where we are.’

***

‘Where?’ Vicana tightened the hold she had on her staff, almost crunching it under the anticipation in her body.

              Blaigen rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger, humming. ‘The presence was detected in Hocknis.’

              ‘Are they going to send…
him
?’

              ‘He is already occupied elsewhere, Vicana.’

              ‘Then how is this going to be dealt with?’ She looked at Blaigen with more intensity, expecting a solution fast.

              ‘I know of another trusted assassin we could use.’

              ‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘Who is he?’

              ‘It’s not a he…’

              ‘Who is
she
then?’

              ‘It’s not a she either.’ Blaigen chuckled, emotionless.

              Vicana grew stern-faced, an air of confusion wafting over her.

              Blaigen turned to her. ‘Figured it out yet?’

              There was another pause and then there was a sudden realisation crossing her features slowly. ‘Oh… you mean one of
them
?’ She was more startled than anything else.

              ‘Yes, I do mean one of them.’ Blaigen cocked his head. ‘Surprised or something, Lady Slorin?’

              She shook her head profusely. ‘No, no… well, yes. I was just under the assumption that they are used for only the most important of tasks, not for such a simple mage.’

              ‘A
simple
mage that has a damned relic, Lady Slorin.’ Blaigen briefly lost composure, taking an angered step towards his colleague. He quickly moved back, his face washing over with serenity.

              He said nothing.

              ‘Oh so now you tell me more, do you?’ Vicana felt the hairs on her neck rise up like that on a feral cat backed in a corner. ‘You didn’t tell me about any relic.’ She smacked her staff onto the stony floor, creating a resounding echo in the cavernous hall. ‘Why is it that you are given precedence with the information all of a sudden? I’d like to be kept in the fucking loop, y’know?’

              The outburst from the infuriated mage got no reaction, Blaigen seemingly letting it go past him like a meagre wind. ‘I apologise, m’lady, if you’ve been upset, but I do not answer to you – I answer to the Providence… and so do you. If you have a qualm about their sharing of information with me and not you then take it up with them.’

              Vicana wrapped her fingers around her staff with both hands like vines around a tree. ‘We’re not a damn team at all, are we? You’re here to be my superior, aren’t you?’

              Blaigen lowered his eyes to the floor and smiled softly. ‘The Providence values your insight and analysis of situations, m’lady. You are an invaluable part of their forces.’ He looked up at her seething expression. ‘You are correct, however. Recent events involving the spire and the spread of its influence; or
lack of
in this case, has given them a bad impression.’ He sighed. ‘Rather than dispose of you, they put me here to, shall we say,
stimulate
productivity.’

              ‘I don’t believe this.’ She flicked her hair back and raised her staff, smacking it into the floor again, this time with more fervour.

              ‘Remember, Vicana, you made a deal with the Providence.’ He stepped toward her and grabbed her by the throat, his powerful grasp too much for her to struggle out of. ‘And you will die before you break it.’ His eyes glowed ethereally, magic burrowing to the surface without restraint. ‘Be careful what you do and say.’

              She wriggled, her staff falling to the floor as her hands clutched against his grip. ‘Let me the fuck go, Blaigen.’

              He laughed deeply. ‘As you wish.’

              Vicana flew across the hall and smashed into the solid stone wall, her spine audibly crunching from the impact. She yelped as she crumpled to the floor, chest heaving. Engaging this man in a fight would be foolhardy, he was obviously more powerful than she was.

              She spat out a globule of blood. ‘Damn it.’

              ‘The assassin has been sent already. The results should be confirmed within the next two hours.’ Blaigen glared at Vicana from across the room. ‘This is what you wanted – the sole reason for your pact. You wanted the power of life in your hands, and now you have it.’

***

Byde picked up his pace as he darted around the corner of a building, eventually hugging the wall of some old building.

              Mikos skidded to one side behind him, and then leaned his hands on his knees, panting, the chase having gotten the best of him. ‘Damn, I’m out of shape,’ he wheezed.

              Byde had been running for a good mile or two before deciding to stop. They had ended up in one of the richer parts of town to the west of the market centre. The area was laid out with archaic architecture, rustic yet expensive housing, and high class business establishments. No matter where you went in Salarias you were guaranteed to find an upper class district in each city… all except Traseken that is.

              ‘What the hell is with you? You run like a cat with its tail on fire,’ Mikos remarked. ‘Where are you running to, exactly?’

              Byde looked from side to side, then at his friend. ‘Do you know of any magic wielders nearby?’

              ‘What?’

              ‘Me and my magic won’t be enough.’

              ‘Enough for what?’

              ‘They’ll send
him
after me again.’

              Mikos was taken aback. For as long as he had known Byde, even though it wasn’t that long, he had never seen him lose his cool over anything. Now, however, he saw Byde show an emotion for the first time – fear. ‘Him? Who?’

              ‘Their attack dog, assassin, hunter… call him what you will.’ He looked up to the sky, watching the grey clouds continue to carpet the afternoon. ‘He nearly got me last time… never again.’

              Mikos rushed over to Byde and grabbed his shoulders, a fierce shake ensuing. ‘Byde! Tell me what the fuck is going on… now!’

              Byde held his head in his hands and slowed his breathing down. ‘OK, OK.’ He eased Mikos away and then breathed out longingly. ‘Only a few days ago I wasn’t even on this island; I was living on the Isles of Dinsk.’

              Mikos blinked ‘What? I didn’t think anyone could live there. Isn’t that the place with all that magical instability?’

              Byde nodded. ‘If you know where to live there then you’re fine. It acts as a great protective barrier, or at least I thought so.’ He grunted.

              ‘I need more than a few words and a grunt to explain things.’

              ‘Give me a moment.’ He paused as he rubbed his face before telling Mikos about how he had been chased through the magical hell fires on Dinsk, how he had inadvertently launched himself hundreds of miles across the ocean and landed on Cryldis Island; and how he had been saved by Olen and Ilsa. He explained how their journey to Hocknis had led to his theory of the magic spire after healing the young boy in the alleyway, and then finally about his visit to the Praanoc Academy tower.

              Mikos listened intently, not sure how to react to such a story. How could one man make a difference? With help, that’s how. He pointed to Byde’s hands. ‘What about those gloves? You’ve told me that they heal the souls in need, but nothing else.’

              ‘Isn’t it obvious what they are? They are one of the Lupian artefacts.’

              ‘Lupian… artefacts?’ Mikos was now sufficiently puzzled. If this had been anyone else they would have been talking in a foreign language. ‘I’ve heard a lot about the Lupians, but nothing about any artefacts.’ He pondered about some text he had read years ago, but came up blank.

              Byde sighed, his lips pursing in what Mikos took to be annoyance. ‘Casters and the items they seal – those things are Lupian artefacts.’

              Mikos nodded, concentrating.

              ‘We seal the items to render them unusable by anyone other than someone of Lupian blood.’

              ‘Then… doesn’t that make you one of them?’ Mikos’s eyebrows crinkled.

              ‘No. These gloves are yet to be sealed.’ He licked his lips. ‘I can use their powers without hindrance until the time comes for them to be rendered inoperable.’

              ‘Why weren’t these artefacts sealed to start with? Why leave them unsealed?’

              ‘So they can be passed down through the bloodline. Once they are sealed, they are bound to one person and one person only.’

              Mikos pursed his lips, a newfound curiosity in his eyes. ‘Who would your gloves be sealed to?’

              ‘Whoever I choose them to be.’

              ‘What do you mean?’

              ‘There are multiple seals, one for each bloodline family. You have the casting seal for the family, then within that you say the name of whichever member you want to cast the item to.’ He looked at his hands as if blood were on them. ‘Sealing these things would be pointless as there’re no Lupians left in Salarias now.’

              ‘So why would you seal them to one person then?’

              ‘That is only done in times of the greatest danger – when the caster’s item is in peril of landing into the hands of those considered evil.’

              ‘Is this why you’re so afraid all of a sudden?’

              Byde looked away to the floor and said nothing.

              ‘I’ll take that as a yes then.’ Mikos slapped his shoulder. ‘How do you propose on hiding from them?’ A dejected look met his gaze.

              ‘There is no hiding from them – it is a question of how long we can
run
from them.’

***

Something hung in the air, suspending itself above Hocknis. It wasn’t an ill wind or a stormy cloud; it was a ghostly figure – a Faceless. They had no features, no emotion; no gender, and certainly no conscience. They did as they were told; they followed their orders until they were completed, no matter how long it took or what stood in their way. The Providence’s assassins were fearless and known as the bringers of death.

              People of Salarias didn’t know about them, but the ones that did never lived long enough to tell anybody about these figures from the beyond. The Faceless were the stories about ghosts, ghouls, and anything mysterious that happened. They were the eerie whispers you could hear in the night as you slept, cold and alone. They existed on a plain all of their own, only taking on physical form when the call of the Providence echoed through their world.

              The day grew into evening, clouds covering the shine of the moons and stars. This was perfect.

              The brown, leathery face twisted from one side to the other, its eye slits ebbing with a soft light that shifted from white to pale yellow then back to white again. Its head twitched as it moved across the skyline of the buildings, growing closer to where it needed to be. Footsteps made no sound on the slate and thatch roofs it crossed.