Master of restless shado.., p.66
Master of Restless Shadows Book Two, page 66
part #2 of Master of Restless Shadows Series
Fedeles nodded and lifted his head high. Then he marched up the steps and strode through the golden doors as if the chapel was his.
Inside, mists churned and circled the vaulted ceiling, like ghostly sharks swimming overhead. Below, the beheaded remains of stone monsters, giants and warriors tangled through the length of the nave. Fedeles sensed mordwolves hunching behind them.
Far ahead of him, standing on the altar, Clara Odalis held her arms out as if catching the rays of light that filtered through the stained glass windows. An immense web of countless teal threads spun out from around her. Fedeles couldn’t imagine how many lives she held enthralled to her will, all while she wove further spells all around herself.
The witchflame surging up from her soul was one of the most radiant and formidable Fedeles had ever seen. Unshackled from Hierro’s control, she shone like an inferno. Teal light rippled around her body and danced from her hands. It encircled the guardsmen standing beside her as well as the physician-priests who were restraining Remes against the pulpit behind her. But Clara’s attention remained directed up at the bright symbols churning over her head.
Without the Hallowed Kings shining before him, Fedeles clearly saw how Clara had altered the wards that once protected the Shard of Heaven. Generations of power now fed into the locket hanging from a chain around Clara’s neck. It was tiny, but Fedeles shuddered as he sensed its purpose. The same grasping, brutal force had once encircled him when Scholar Donamillo had suppressed his soul and invaded his body. Clara clearly intended to employ the altered wards to put this locket to the same use.
He’d expected as much ever since Suelita brought him the pages copied from Genimo Plunado’s journals. Still, it was unnerving to feel those enchantments so near him.
Fedeles looked to Remes. There was something strange and waxy about his face. The physician-priests crowding around him blocked Fedeles’s view, but they didn’t seem to be doing the prince any kindness with their knives and needles.
Then a motion in the shadows beneath the altar caught Fedeles’s attention. Elenna crouched there, gripping Marisol. She held a belt knife near the little girl’s face, but her gaze was lowered to the mass of wet bones and decayed flesh at her feet. The earthly remnants of the Hallowed Kings, Fedeles realized. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he saw a deep-blue haze still fluttering through those remains.
Elenna mouthed something and Marisol nodded very slowly. Then Marisol looked to Fedeles. He wanted to offer her some reassurance. But then three mordwolves launched themselves from the statues on Fedeles’s right.
Marisol screamed and Clara smiled.
But Fedeles was prepared and practiced now. He tore the transformation spells from the three charging mordwolves. Stripped back to costumed noblemen, they staggered and stared at Fedeles, momentarily dazed. Then two of them reached for their blades. Ariz lunged out, driving his sword into the chest of the man nearest Fedeles. Simultaneously, ribbons of white mists descended upon the other two. Their stone figures appeared stunned as Fedeles walked past them. Streamers of mist trailed close behind him.
After that, he and Ariz advanced relentlessly. Fedeles devoured spells and those men the Shroud of Stone didn’t capture fell beneath Ariz’s blades. Twice an archer loosed arrows from the altar, but the chaos of statues and pillars filling the chapel blocked them.
Clara glowered at Fedeles while still steadily pouring more power into her spells, but she didn’t attack him directly. Perhaps she was just waiting for him to step into a trap.
Or maybe she couldn’t split her attention any further. Previously she’d shared the burden of directing her spells with Hierro. But now her will alone flashed through the teal filaments surrounding her. Fedeles guessed that the troop of mordwolves surrounding him and Ariz weren’t the only ones that she currently dispatched to hunt and kill.
Behind him he heard blades ring and the desperate sound of fast breath and scuffling boots. It took all his will not to spin around to reassure himself of Ariz’s safety. Clara’s fingers twitched. She was just waiting for him to drop his guard. He glowered back at her.
He had to trust in Ariz and focus on clearing the way ahead for both of them. But even concentrating straight ahead, he nearly stepped into a teal curse smoldering on the brilliant blue floor. Spears of searing light shot up at him, searing his calf. At the same time another mordwolf bounded from an alcove.
Fedeles’s shadow surged out, smothering the spell. Ariz leapt into the air, meeting the mordwolf with gleaming black talons.
Shocks coursed across Fedeles body as Clara’s spell struggled in the grip of his shadow. Fedeles gritted his teeth against the pain and silently swore at himself. He should have drained the spells instead of unleashing his shadow. But he’d acted out of reflex. He couldn’t afford to do that again; he needed to reserve all the strength he could to deal with Clara.
Behind him, he felt Ariz’s movements like wind whirling at his back. He heard the whimper and choked cry of a dying mordwolf. An instant later he felt the heat of Ariz’s back press against him once more.
“Keep going. Don’t let me distract you,” Ariz said, under his breath. “Wherever you lead I will follow. Trust me.”
“You’re truly an excellent partner,” Fedeles whispered. To his surprise, a very soft laugh escaped Ariz.
“Hopefully our future dances will involve fewer mordwolves attempting to cut in.”
Fedeles smiled and his assurance returned. They would succeed here and enjoy laughter after this. He wouldn’t allow Clara Odalis or anyone else to steal that future from them.
Fedeles strode to the foot of the altar. Contorted stone faces glared at him and the mist-filled air reeked of both rotted meat and fresh-spilled blood. Previously he’d not seen the body slumped beside a pillar. Now he darted a quick glance at the horrifically mutilated corpse. The torso hung open and the head lay separately in a pool of blood. Fedeles didn’t recognize Hierro’s face immediately; he’d never before seen the man from this angle or wearing such a startled expression.
Fedeles’s gaze flickered to Elenna and Marisol. The decayed bones and shattered shards of crystal washed out around them made for a particularly gruesome sight. Again he sensed that faint haze curling around the two of them. As a wisp of the Shroud of Stone floated near them, a pale visage rose up, shielding them. A last remnant of Gachello’s soul, Fedeles realized, still attempting to restrain the Shard of Stone.
“Lord Quemanor, I had wondered if you would actually deliver my relic in person,” Clara called down to him. She glanced past him, then sighed as if disappointed. “It saddens me to see that my dear sister is neither so principled nor so protective of her family as to accompany you. How naïve of me to hope she would.”
Clara offered a pitying smile to Marisol and then went on. “I’m so sorry that you had to learn how little love your mother is capable of feeling, Sparanzo.” Clara shook her head. “But take heart, you are still a firstborn son. The heir to a dukedom—or is it two dukedoms, now that Papa and Hierro have passed away? Yes, two dukedoms. What a very valuable little boy you are. It’s not as if you’re a worthless daughter. Can you imagine your father bothering to return my relic to me if you were?”
Elenna winced and seemed to grind her teeth, while Marisol pulled her gaze away from Clara to stare at Fedeles, her despair plain to see. She genuinely hadn’t thought anyone would come for her.
Fedeles wanted to seize her from Elenna and reassure her, but he didn’t dare make any sudden move. He needed to know exactly where Clara meant to enthrone her vibrant soul first. To do that he needed time to feel out her wards and spells.
He drew a step back and frowned at Clara.
“Considering the escort you dispatched to welcome me, I’d say Oasia had grounds for keeping well clear of you,” Fedeles stated. “As for handing over the relic, I’m now hesitant to believe that you’ll honor the terms of the exchange.”
“With Master Ariz protecting you, how could you suffer any real harm?” Clara replied.
Fedeles paid that taunt no mind. Instead he studied Remes. Fedeles had assumed that Clara intended to steal Remes’s body and identity. Assuming his role, she could claim the title of royal bishop and easily challenge Fedeles for the crown. But something was very wrong about Remes now. Fedeles couldn’t see him clearly, but the spells restraining him assured Fedeles that Remes’s body was a bloodless husk. His soul writhed and struggled to escape it. Clara couldn’t intend to take control of a corpse. Nor was there any point in keeping Remes’s soul captive if she only wanted to inhabit his body.
No, these spells felt more like . . . Fedeles started at the realization. She was indeed attempting to forge a Hallowed King to replace Gachello. But it was Remes she was using. Fedeles guessed that it was because she held a thrall over him. With his soul imprisoned in his enthralled flesh, Clara would be able to control him completely. Through him she might even master the Shroud of Stone, releasing and restraining the spell as she willed.
But creating a new Hallowed King wasn’t easily done. Especially not now that Fedeles had shattered the royal bishop’s jade ring and Clara herself had altered so many of the protective wards. So Clara’s physician-priests resorted to the cursed needles and nails employed by torturers to keep their prisoners from finding the release of death.
Even so, Fedeles could sense Remes’s soul shredding apart. His spirit was neither prepared nor willing to suffer for the sake of his nation. As a Hallowed King, he wouldn’t last even an hour, much less defend Cadeleon for the century that Gachello had endured.
No wonder Clara needed Yah-muur’s Horn. It was her insurance against the Shroud of Stone breaking free completely. After all, she wanted to rule a vast holy kingdom, not a desolate world of stone.
“Dear Sparanzo, you must be so scared. But look, your dear papa has come to save you!” Clara’s words caught Fedeles’s attention. Her gaze took on an acquisitive quality as she stared down at Marisol. Then she smiled at Fedeles.
“How much would the Duke of Rauma willingly endure for the sake of a treasured son?” Clara asked. “Such a precious son and heir. How very, very lucky Sparanzo is. Your papa would come and kill so many hapless, enthralled men all for your sake, my dear.”
Clara gestured out past Fedeles and Ariz, indicating the trail of defeated and dead behind them. She went on, “I wonder, would he even die for you? Would he become a wraith shielding you from the terrible mists that might gobble you up at any minute?”
Fedeles frowned at Clara’s words. Was that why she hadn’t tried to kill him outright? She had realized that Remes was not going to last as a Hallowed King. Fedeles, with his cursed history, was a better candidate—so long as she found a way to control him.
“A good father would sacrifice anything for such a precious son, I’m certain of it,” Clara said.
Fedeles nodded, but he was only half listening to her. If he’d been wrong about Remes, then what else had he been mistaken about? His shadow spread out, testing and assessing the surrounding spells. Clara might attempt to manipulate and lie to him, but her spells could not. Fedeles’s shoulders slumped slightly, but Ariz stepped close, steadying him.
“You’re finally free of Hierro.” Ariz’s tone was condemning and drew Clara’s attention. “Yet all you do is emulate his spells and cruelty?”
Even only half aware as he was, Fedeles could see the outraged flush color Clara’s pale face.
“You dare compare me to that—that monster!” she shouted. Light flared all around her. Her dark eyes flashed with teal light. “I am righteous in my path! Justified in my means! You know what I’ve suffered! What he did to me!”
Ariz shrugged, his expression condemning. His bare scarred chest displayed far more than merely knowing the agonies that Hierro inflicted.
“You suffered, so now it’s your right to torture, enthrall and murder as you please?” Ariz demanded.
“Murder? You’re hardly one to criticize murder, Ariz.” Clara laughed and her tone turned mocking. “Just look at the mess you made of my brother—and that was of your own volition. You were free of him. Yet you still chose to do this.”
Ariz glanced to Hierro’s corpse and revulsion twitched through his cold visage.
Fedeles realized that their argument wasn’t a matter of random insult and accusations, but the precise barbs of two people who understood one another’s values and vulnerabilities. He would never have been capable of claiming Clara’s full attention, but right now Ariz occupied her awareness to the extent that she failed to notice Fedeles’s shadow reach out to Elenna and Marisol.
He focused on the locket that Clara had sent to Sparanzo. The one he now realized matched closely the one Clara wore herself. Long ago he and Oasia both had seen that the stones decorating the necklace were blessings of protection. Likely their power was the reason that Gachello’s faint wraith could still defend Marisol and Elenna. But the locket had defied both his and Oasia’s perception until now. In the light of Clara’s other spells it opened, revealing a mate to the invading enchantments Clara was currently feeding.
He’d been a fool! Of course it wasn’t Remes who Clara wanted to possess. No, she wanted to claim the life of a precious son. An heir to two dukedoms. Sparanzo was even a rightful heir to the throne now. But more than any of that, Fedeles thought, Clara seemed desperate to punish Oasia. And what weapon could inflict more pain than taking Oasia’s only child and using him to destroy her?
Next to him, Ariz drew himself up straight and lifted his chin. Defiance suited him.
“I struck down the man who ruined me—who made my life a misery. The same man who tortured you and countless others! But what harm has that child ever done to you?” Ariz pointed to Marisol and then Elenna. “How has Elenna hurt you? What great wrong did all the hapless souls across this city heap upon your pampered life? You have no justification!”
“Their suffering is nothing compared to mine—”
“The righteous defend the innocent even from their own ire!” Ariz shouted the holy quotation.
“Paradise awaits the innocent. The sinful deserve the hells that take them. I will deliver them all to their just rewards. You along with the rest, Ariz!” Clara focused on Ariz so intently that teal flames sparked from her hands and roiled in the air before him. But like the white mist, they dissipated before touching his body.
At the same time, Fedeles noted Clara’s power draining from the thralls she held over Elenna and the surrounding guardsmen. He met Elenna’s gaze. Her face twitched with pain, but she very deliberately loosened her hold on Marisol, then lowered her belt knife. She mouthed something to Marisol and the girl looked to Fedeles entreatingly.
He lunged forward, sweeping Marisol up into his arms. Ariz followed him in perfect time, intercepting the guardsman who leapt from the altar to stop them. Fedeles didn’t see what Ariz tore from the man’s chest, but an instant later white mist engulfed the guardsman, leaving a startled-looking stone figure. Ariz retreated to Fedeles’s side, letting the red charm fall from his fingers. A shield, Fedeles thought. No doubt the guardsmen and physician-priests surrounding Clara all wore the same things to hold the Shroud of Stone at bay.
“You filth!” Clara shouted.
The two remaining guardsmen jumped from the altar and advanced together on Ariz and Fedeles.
“Don’t you want the relic?” Fedeles demanded. “Isn’t this the exchange we agreed to?”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. Then she gave a wave of her hand and the guardsmen stopped in their tracks. That self-satisfied smile returned to her face.
Fedeles understood why. As far as she knew, her locket still hung from Sparanzo’s neck. She would be able to take possession of him, even if he was in Fedeles’s arms. What she couldn’t see was that Marisol gripped the locket to her chest, but Elenna had long ago loosened the clasp. Now as Fedeles drew her close, Marisol slid the locket into his hand.
“It’s not mine.” Marisol buried her face against the crook of his neck. “I don’t want it.”
“It’s all right. You don’t have—” Fedeles began, but Marisol’s sob cut him off.
“I’m not him. I’m sorry,” Marisol whispered into Fedeles ear. Her tears felt hot as they slid down Fedeles’s cool skin. “I’m not him.”
“I know who you are, Marisol,” Fedeles quietly assured her. “Your uncle and I came here for you, not for anyone else.”
“You did?” Marisol’s sob turned to a startled hiccup, and Fedeles might have laughed if her surprise hadn’t seemed so wrong and pitiful. She hugged him fiercely.
Fedeles glanced to Ariz. Neither of them said a word. Ariz nodded.
Fedeles drew his shadow into himself, then he gripped the necklace in his fist and gave it a spark of power. The spells inside woke at once, as did those in the locket Clara held. Clara’s eyes flared wide with shock, then she let loose an enraged scream.
A wild bolt of teal light shot out from the locket she gripped and slammed into the one Fedeles held. The locket’s spells unfolded around him, like a glass sphere swirling with gold incantations. Familiar. It was so terribly familiar. A nightmare that he’d spent years trying to escape.
But one that he understood, whereas Clara had no experience with this disorientation. During the years that Fedeles had been possessed, he’d gained exquisite expertise in keeping himself both separated and whole, even when forcibly sharing his body with another soul.
So when Clara’s spirit struck him like a hammer blow, jolting through his arm and reverberating deep in his chest, he recoiled to a hidden space within himself, easily letting her enter. He felt the sizzling current of her rage rising around him, pressing in on his body and shrieking over his own thoughts. He felt her resentment like a meat hook catching his heart and her radiant power slicing through his mind like a knife blade.
