Facets of power, p.34
Facets of Power, page 34
part #3 of The Dragon Portal Series
“Be careful, Sabine,” Malek warned. “I think you have potential allies in Astrid and Hargrim, but the rest are either your enemies or waiting to see which side is stronger. Raniel is definitely on the enemy side.”
“She’s also the most likely culprit behind the corruption,” Sabine said, studying the woman who was currently the most powerful dwarf in Razadon. “Rugara hasn’t openly challenged me and appears more closely aligned with Astrid’s allies. I need Blossom to bring me proof before I can accuse Raniel of anything.”
Malek frowned, nodding toward a group of armed dwarves who were heading their way. “We’re running out of time, Sabine. We need to end this before they unite against us. You may want to consider another power display.”
Sabine nodded, knowing he was right. If the guild leaders combined forces, it would be impossible to stand against them. “I’ll need to tap into the goddess’s power. It’s the only thing that might work.”
Malek frowned. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “Be careful, sweetheart.”
She took a deep breath, preparing to embrace the goddess once again.
Rika inhaled sharply and said, “I just saw a cave troll, Sabine.”
Sabine froze, hope unfurling inside her. She looked in the direction Rika was staring but didn’t see anything other than dwarves. “Are you sure? Where did you see it?”
“In the balcony area,” Rika said and shook her head. “Something small and blue just ran through there with a spear in his hand, hopping up and down. The image shimmered like it does with glamour and then he was gone. I think he was looking for someone.”
Malek frowned. “Could Blossom have instructed them to gather in a different location rather than coming directly to us? If they’re afraid of someone, they could be worried about being spotted.”
“Perhaps,” Sabine murmured, but she had her doubts. Blossom would have returned immediately to share the outcome of her negotiation efforts unless something had happened. The weapon was a little strange. She knew pixies used them on occasion, but they were more formidable with their magic. It was possible the cave trolls were the same.
One of the dwarves, a squat little man who was nearly as wide as he was tall, hastened toward the podium with several guards in tow. His face was flushed red with a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. Sabine suspected his decision to wear his heavy fur coat was to showcase his wealth rather than to encourage comfort. His beard had been braided with numerous crystals, but these were simply decorative and didn’t contain power from what Sabine could tell.
Dagmar leaned close and whispered, “That’s Dolan Ironside, leader of the Weaponsmith Guild. He’s mostly bluster and hot air, but he’s also Raniel’s biggest supporter.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Dolan shouted into the podium crystal, his face turning red. “That demon is our prisoner. You can’t just come in here and free him without cause. You may be queen, but you’re not our queen.”
Sabine narrowed her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she sent a thin band of power outward. Using the strength of her will, she bound the dwarf tightly in her metaphysical grasp. He thrashed against her mental hold, his earthen power pummeling against her power. He was stronger than she’d expected, but as an individual, he wasn’t a match for Sabine’s command of the elements.
Cutting aside his resistance, she forced him to the ground in a position of obeisance. He collapsed, surrendering to her entirely. She sent a pulse of magic along her markings and took a step forward. She swept her gaze over the guild leaders, their attendants, and the dwarves watching from above. What she planned wouldn’t work for all of them, but those with a weak disposition would embrace her strength.
Infusing her voice with enough power to bind the dwarves to her will and project her voice outward, she called, “I am Sabin’theoria of the Unseelie, blood descendant of the goddess Lachlina. I have been proclaimed ruler by Faerie herself and recognized by the Wild Hunt.”
Reaching inward, she abandoned her reservations and grasped her ties to the goddess through the marks on her wrist. The first had been forged by blood and magic months earlier when she’d accepted the magic contained within the chalice. The second, a pearl gifted to the merfolk, was unfamiliar and alien to her nature but no less potent. All magic had a cost, and Lachlina’s influence adorned her wrists like shackles. Yet, she would embrace their power if it saved the people she loved.
The goddess touched her mind, and Sabine allowed Lachlina’s power to fill her like an empty vessel. She was the chalice. The magic of the gods flowed through her, both foreign and achingly familiar. Lachlina’s thoughts intermingled with hers, and Sabine knew the goddess was once again present.
The markings on her skin glowed both silver and gold, the sign of the Fae and the gods intertwined as one. She took another step forward, standing at the entrance to the Faerie alcove and stared down those who would dare challenge her authority.
“You have forgotten yourselves, dwarves,” Sabine shouted, channeling Lachlina’s strength along with her own. “You are Unseelie, and I have been proclaimed their queen. If you reject me, you renounce your claim to this mountain and the magic that was gifted millennia ago.”
Raising her hands, she sent out a piercing blast of magic that shot through every power crystal in the room. Each piece of jewelry, weapon, and lantern infused with dwarven magic glowed brightly, pulsing in time with her markings. The dwarves cried out in alarm, dropping to their knees at the realization the goddess walked among them.
In a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the room, Sabine said, “By rights of blood, your ability to manipulate the magic of this world begins and ends with me. Abandon the Unseelie, abandon your heritage, and you shall return to the dust from whence you came.”
She sent another burst of power outward, causing dust to fall once again from the ceiling. Unlike the dwarves, she didn’t need to stomp her feet to make the earth obey her will. She was Fae, one of the original guardians of this world, and it responded to her whims like a child reaching for its mother. Her skin pulsed even more brilliantly with its strange gold light as Lachlina’s power surged even stronger than before.
Raniel pushed away from the podium, whispering something furtively to a sharp-eyed man standing to the side of the dais. He didn’t have the appearance of a warrior but rather some sort of administrator. He ran toward the balcony stairs, likely to gather reinforcements, but Sabine had made her point. Lines would be drawn, but more than a few would align themselves with her.
She took a shaky breath, trying to pull back on Lachlina’s power before it consumed her. The goddess wanted to punish those who had corrupted her gift of magic, and she wasn’t concerned about the potential collateral damage.
“Let it go, sweetheart,” Malek said quietly, placing his hand on her lower back. The warmth of his touch helped center her thoughts, giving her a lifeline to find her way back to herself.
Lachlina didn’t understand the tender feelings Sabine held for Malek nor the desire that surged within her every time he touched her. Using her growing feelings for the dragon at her side, she managed to drive a wedge between herself and the goddess. Sabine pushed away from Lachlina’s hold, and after a moment, the goddess’s power dissipated.
Sabine took an unsteady breath, shaken by the increasing control the goddess was demonstrating each time they shared power. It was becoming more difficult to tell where she began and Lachlina ended.
“Good people of Razadon,” Raniel said loudly, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “What you have just witnessed is one more example of the Fae and outsiders trying to dictate the path Razadon has chosen. While Sabin’theoria may hold remarkable power, she is not one of us. We are dwarves, masters of the stone and crystal. We need to embrace our heritage and hold on to that which makes us strong, or we shall be ground to dust under the chokehold of the Fae.”
Rika leaned toward Sabine and whispered, “The crystals on Raniel’s hammer flare whenever she talks. Could she be doing something to control the crowd? Sort of like what you do with your voice? I see magic coming from them.”
Sabine frowned, trying to get a better look at Raniel standing on the dais. She relaxed her vision to see the flares of magic, surprised Rika had been able to detect them. Her seer abilities were growing stronger or she was finally embracing her gift.
The crystals on Raniel’s hammer were glowing softly, but they brightened with every word the archivist spoke. It was possible Raniel had somehow infused them with the Fae ability of coercion. It was a subtle magical working, but trying to hold such power over a large audience was incredibly difficult.
“You may need to make an example of Raniel,” Malek said quietly, moving up to stand beside her. “If the power you displayed already hasn’t had an effect on her, nothing will. You run the risk of turning the city against you if you take action against her, but she’s your strongest opposition. I believe the others will fall in line if you eliminate her.”
“I’m starting to see the merits of dropping the damned mountain on their heads,” Bane muttered. “I can assassinate her, but the dwarves already have a death threat hanging over my head. My interference will weaken your position. You’ll need to handle her.”
Dagmar’s eyes widened. “You’re going to kill her? But, but, she’s Raniel! She’s our archivist! She holds the memories of our people.”
Sabine frowned, sensing the goddess was in agreement with both Bane and Malek. Taking a life wasn’t something Sabine did lightly, even though she’d ended more than a few over the years. Turning toward Dagmar, Sabine said, “If I can avoid it, I will. But Malek and Bane are right. I can’t allow her to sow dissent.”
Dagmar’s lower lip trembled, and she nodded. Rika patted her shoulder and spoke softly to the troubled dwarf. Sabine turned away, unable to offer her any reassurances. Instead, she focused on Hargrim and Raniel, who were still arguing on the dais. The dwarves in the balcony were straining to listen, but the guild leaders were speaking quietly enough that only those on the main floor could hear them.
Hargrim crossed his arms over his chest and tsked at Raniel like she were a naughty child. “Still goin’ on with that ole argument, Rani? Thought you realized by now we need the Fae, just like they need us.”
“We’ve never needed them, a fact you would do well to remember,” Raniel snapped, glaring at Hargrim with contempt.
Hargrim sighed and shook his head. “Go on then. Renounce your ties to our mountain, but don’t drag our people into yer madness. From what I’ve seen and heard, Malia’s daughter’s more like her mum than anyone expected. She’ll turn you out if you keep spouting this nonsense.”
Raniel scoffed. “She’s a child playing at ruling. Look at how she’s hiding from the Wild Hunt camped outside our gates. Even if I trusted the Fae, I wouldn’t allow her inexperience to destroy our fair city. We have much to offer the world, but not as lesser citizens.”
Sabine’s hands curled into fists, but she didn’t lash out. Everything Raniel had said was the truth, no matter how much Sabine might wish it otherwise. She was ill prepared to handle the responsibility of ruling, even if it was her birthright. No matter what doubts or insecurities plagued her, Sabine couldn’t allow them to cripple her.
Raniel turned away from Hargrim and addressed the dwarves standing on the balcony. “I ask you all to stand with me now. Help us renegotiate our place in this world so our children might know the feel of the sun on their skin. We should not be forced underground like the unwanted children of the gods. Together, we can lead Razadon in a new direction. The power and knowledge to accomplish our goals is within our grasp!”
Some of the dwarves on the balcony cheered, while others began talking among themselves. Sabine couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she relaxed her vision enough to read their energies. The red, gold, and green hazes around them indicated many of them were responding favorably to Raniel’s words.
The most curious thing was how their auras shared a similar resonance with the power crystals embedded on Raniel’s hammer. Raniel might not have access to Sabine’s full range of magic, but she was a powerful orator with an item of power in her hands.
Sabine stared up at the hundreds of faces she didn’t know. Grasping the railing in front of her, Sabine tried to absorb some insight from the wood of the Silver tree under her fingertips. The dwarven culture had always been a fascination to her, but it was alien in many ways. She’d been in a similar situation when she’d been thrust into a human city, struggling to adapt and learn their ways. If it hadn’t been for her friends, she never would have survived the human world.
The insight gave her pause. If she could find a way to bridge the chasm between their cultures, she might be able to pacify their concerns and make an even stronger alliance with them. The treaty and old ways had created the foundation, but someone needed to take the next step to unify all the Unseelie.
“People of Razadon,” Sabine called, allowing her magic to unfurl within her once again. “I may be new to your city, but I grew up hearing about the wonders of Razadon. No other race has your level of skill when it comes to your craftsmanship in jewelcraft, armor, and weapons. Your power crystals, your stonework, and your engineering abilities are legendary. Even your warriors are renown for being among the fiercest in the world.”
Each of the dwarves who belonged to the guilds she mentioned straightened, puffing their chests with pride. The whispered murmurs took on a more boastful tone, and Sabine watched as they elbowed one another and gestured in her direction.
“I may be new to ruling,” Sabine said, sweeping her gaze over the watching dwarves. “But centuries of magic and memories run through my blood, renewed and reaffirmed with each generation since our inception. I have drunk of these memories, absorbing knowledge that belies my years. The one thing that’s been made clear is how much I still have to learn.”
Raniel narrowed her eyes, but Sabine ignored her and continued addressing the crowd.
“I have chosen to surround myself with advisors whose experiences far outweigh my own.” She gestured toward Malek. “Captain Malek Rish’dan has traveled the world and learned more about it than most dwarves and Fae combined.” She gestured at Bane. “Bane’umbra Versed grew up in the underworld but has lived among humans for years, learning their ways and how to adapt to different environments.” She then motioned toward Rika, whose wings twitched in surprise. “Rika of Karga is a human seer, the first of her kind to embrace the Unseelie and work cooperatively with them. I count her a trusted friend and ally.”
Gasps and surprised utterings floated down from the balcony. Raniel made a derisive remark too low to be heard clearly, but Sabine ignored her. If she wanted a true alliance with the dwarves, she needed to win them over on her own merit, not because they were frightened of her.
“Before traveling to Razadon, I met with several of the merfolk. I have formed a new alliance with them and reopened the once-abandoned trading city of Atlantia. The location of this city shall be shared with Hargrim Icemail as leader of the Tradesmen Guild, so he might bring further bounty to Razadon.”
Hargrim gave her a salute and called, “Trading with the merfolk has always been rewarding. Razadon will surely prosper with yer good will, Your Highness.”
Sabine tilted her head in acknowledgement of Hargrim’s words. “It’s my hope Razadon will prosper even more in the centuries to come. To that end, and to ensure I understand the concerns of everyone who aligns themselves with the Unseelie, I will install Dagmar Frostfall as household manager of my estate here.”
Dagmar squeaked, her eyes wide at the sudden promotion. She grinned and bounced on her toes, causing her red braids to swing wildly.
Sabine gave her a warm smile and then turned back toward the council chamber. “Dagmar will be granted certain rights and duties far beyond those normally given to anyone who is not Fae. I believe this will help us grow closer as a people. We are all Unseelie, and I intend to shatter any preconceived notions that suggest otherwise.”
“Dagmar doesn’t have any experience,” someone shouted from the balcony. A few others began protesting, but Sabine held up her hand.
“Like myself, Dagmar is young. But I believe she will provide me with valuable insight. I also intend to select a new Unseelie ambassador from among your ranks, with consideration given to each of your guild leader’s recommendations. This person will listen to your concerns and work directly with me to resolve issues. Razadon will still maintain its autonomy, but you will have my ear. We will work together as one people and find a new way forward.”
The crowd cheered, chanting her name with barely restrained frenzy. Malek gave her a warm smile, his eyes filled with admiration and approval.
Bane frowned. “It won’t work, little one. The dwarves will pit themselves against one another to win your favor, and you’ll have a whole new host of problems.”
She nodded, having already considered the possibility. “Perhaps, but I’m hoping this might buy us enough time until Balkin’s people arrive. He’ll likely send someone better accustomed to handling Razadon’s politics.”
Rika pointed up at the balcony. “Look, Sabine! It’s back. The cave troll is sitting on that dwarf’s head. I think the dwarf has something in his hand—”
Sabine started to turn in the direction she indicated, but Rika’s face paled.
The seer screamed, “Sabine, look out! He’s got a crossbow!”
Too stunned to react, Sabine caught sight of the crossbow bolt hurtling through the air in her direction. Malek grabbed her around the waist and dove toward the ground. She slammed against the tile floor, pain searing through her shoulder. Sabine screamed, agony racing through her body from where the crossbolt had struck her. Her fingers curled into Malek’s shirt as ice penetrated deep into her soul, freezing her magic and shattering her thoughts.
