Eve of Destruction (42 page)

She laughed. It was probably loud enough that the others in the makeshift camp a few hundred meters away would hear, but she didn’t really care. They were too busy trying to figure out what to do next now that they were lost out here in the middle of nowhere. They might think she was crazy, but they probably thought that anyway. And it’s not like they were wrong.

“I can’t wait to hear this,” she said. “Come on, let me have it.”

He wasn’t smiling. He was just glaring right at her with his cold, ghostly eyes. “You had a dozen chances to convince the king to surrender our forces, to work out at peace treaty that would have saved thousands of lives. But no, instead you insisted that we had to fight, that our very identity as a people was at stake.”

“Zandrast himself said it is better for a people to die on their feet than live on their knees.”

“Yes, the words of our great warrior god,” Alex muttered. “And where is he now? Who still speaks his name?” He grunted derisively and took another step forward. “Where was he to save us during that war? Why did he not bolster our soldiers against the Lessek’s axes? You bought into that silly myth like a varium-addled torbo, and instead of seeing the truth for what it was—the truth that we were grievously outmatched—you took the entire war upon yourself. You promised the king a weapon to wipe the Lesseks from history, and in the months you spent trying to craft it our people bled and died.”

“While you sat comfortably with your Enclave friends hundreds of kilometers away,” she growled. “Doing nothing.”

“I knew it was pointless to try and reason with you. But you know what, I underestimated you, Shaedra. I never thought you’d actually cross that line. I never thought you’d be willing to Defile.”

She pressed her eyelids together, the memory of the final days of Vakar searing into her mind. All the death, all the suffering…

“I had no choice,” she insisted. “The war was almost over, and there was no one left but me. If the Enclave had given me even a few magi I would have had the power to complete the ritual. I could have destroyed every last Lessek in Vakar.”

“So instead you Defiled,” he whispered. “And you killed everyone.”

Shaedra had never been one for tears, not even when she’d been human. The Vakari were a proud people, and they didn’t like to show weakness amongst anyone, not even their own. But now the tears burned in her eyes like acid, and she clawed at them to try and stem the flow. 

“You understood the danger of our power,” Alex said. “You witnessed the destruction the Balorites wrought in their attempt to destroy the Kirshal. You should have known better, but instead you made even the worst of their Defilers look like common thugs by comparison.”

He leaned down so close to her that she could almost feel the icy chill of his ghostly breath on her face. “How many did you kill, do you think? Thousands? Tens of thousands? And you were still just a single mage—a powerful one, to be sure, but nothing compared to what that girl over there is capable of. If she really is the Avenshal—if she really is corrupted by Abalor’s power—do you understand what she will be capable of? Forget Vakar, Shaedra. Forget Kalavan. We’re talking about the end of the Fane—the end of life itself.”

“Even Maltus isn’t convinced of what she is,” she replied meekly.

Alex snorted. “He knows; he just doesn’t want to admit it to himself. What I don’t understand is why you are just as blinded by emotion as he is. You don’t owe anything to this girl, so why not kill her? Why take the chance? It’s just one more life to add to your collection. You don’t even have to feed on her if you don’t want to. The others can threaten you all they want, but they can’t actually harm you. Finish this now, while you still can!”

Shaedra opened her eyes. The tears remained, but they no longer burned. She glanced back towards the flickering campfire in the distance. Through the sparse forest she could make out the others sitting there, huddled together in fear for what the future was going to bring. First Chaval had been after them, and now the Enclave would be coming too. Civil war might not have come to Arkadia just yet, but already they were standing at the brink of a dark precipice.

“I wonder,” Shaedra whispered, “would you be willing to sacrifice her if it meant losing magic forever?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“War is coming, one way or another. There’s no guarantee the Dusties won’t win, and if they do, do you really think Chaval will allow the Enclave to survive?”

“As if he could kill us all,” Alex scoffed. “Some will escape—”

“What if he does?” she pressed. “The revolution won’t end here, you know. Eventually it will spread to other places like Talam and even Esharia. If he can defeat them here, what makes you think the rest will be able to stop him? Once the knowledge is destroyed, once all of the books and tomes are burned, there will be nothing left. It will be lost forever.”

“That won’t happen and you know it.”

“But what if it does? Would you sacrifice the magi just to end this threat?”

“You’re speaking nonsense.”

Shaedra turned back to face him. “She might be the only chance the magi have of winning this war. Did you ever consider that? She could be the weapon we need.”

“Playing with fire,” he murmured. “You took that chance once, and look what it cost you. You’re really willing to do so again?”

Shaedra sighed softly and stood. “I don’t know.”

She lumbered towards the camp and left him behind. Mercifully, he didn’t follow. She expected the others to say something when she approached, but they barely even acknowledged her presence. Eve and Zach sat huddled together near the fire, speaking in hushed whispers. Danev gingerly rustled through some of his belongings—his wounds had been treated with magic, but they would still take several days to fully heal. Aram, for his part, stood a few meters away, staring almost vacantly at the flames.

“How do you feel?” Danev finally asked after a few moments.

“Not a question I’ve been asked often,” she muttered as she squatted down on the grass. “I’m still a little surprised you didn’t leave me to rot on that boxcar.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Aram said without turning.

Danev’s eyes flicked briefly to his bodyguard, then back to Shaedra. “I’ve never seen actual cellium in action before. I always assumed the stuff was just an Enclave myth.”

“It’s rare enough it might as well be,” she told him. “The real question is how in the void Chaval got his hands on some.”

Danev nodded but didn’t reply. The implications were ominous enough they didn’t need to be spoken.

Cellium was a chemical compound created from the fusion of raw varium crystal and a number of other metals, most notably silver. The expense of even a single bullet was prohibitive enough—probably several thousand drakes worth of varium alone—but the creation process was ostensibly an Enclave secret. It was also the only true leash they ever had on the Vakari.

Shaedra had no idea how the magisters had discovered the substance in the first place, but she did know it was about the only thing in the world outside of a few obscure weaving techniques that could actually harm her. The rumor was that cellium coated bullets—or arrowheads, sword blades, or anything else—could pierce even the strongest mage’s kinetic barriers. It was one of several obvious reasons the Enclave had kept the secret of its creation under wraps for so long.

Until now, apparently.

“I can only assume he bribed someone in the Enclave to share the formula with him,” Shaedra said after a few moments. “We just better hope he doesn’t have a bunch of spare varium sitting around in a hidden mine somewhere.”

“No one in the Enclave would share that secret with anyone, least of all a Dusty,” Aram told her. “Not for all the drakes in Ebara.”

Shaedra grunted. “Your naivety would almost be cute if you weren’t a bodyguard.”

He finally twisted to face her, his eyes as cold as normal. “You really think they would risk selling such a powerful weapon?”

“There is no ‘they.’ The Enclave is made up of individuals, just like any other group. All it takes is one of their little magisters to crack and you have a problem.” She shrugged. “Look at what Maltus has done. The Council isn’t nearly as unified as they want people to think.”

“Regardless, it’s not particularly relevant to our current predicament,” Danev said, steering them back on track. “There’s nothing we can do about it either way, and we have plenty of our own problems to contend with. I just need to know if you’re still able to travel.”

“I can walk,” she assured him. “The question is which way we’re going.”

The white-coated man took in a deep breath. “There’s only one real option: we head back to Cadotheia.”

“What?” Zach gasped, turning to face them from across the campfire. “You can’t be serious.”

“Vaschberg is at least four hundred kilometers away,” Danev said. “We’re not going to walk that far.”

“Forget walking—there has to be a town or village or something nearby.”

“You might be surprised,” Aram told him. “The western plains are pretty empty in between the major cities. It’s mostly farmland and a few scattered villages.”

“So we find one and buy some horses or send a cable to your people,” Zach insisted. “I mean, you do have people who could help us out, right?”

“Less than I would like,” Danev murmured. “But even being generous with conditions, you’re still talking about the better part of a week on horseback—and that’s assuming we don’t get lost. If Simon really didn’t want us to leave the city, he’ll be watching the roads, so that would make the trip even longer.”

“It’s still better than walking straight into his clutches. If he knew we were leaving town last time, he’ll know the moment we head back in.”

Danev shrugged. “Maybe, but he didn’t bother last time we were in the city, and I don’t think he will this time, either. He wants us there, for some reason, and he wants Eve alive—his men on the train proved that. We need to figure out why.”

“Because I am the Avenshal,” Eve said softly. She sat huddled in a ball leaning against her suitcase, the campfire flickering in her amber eyes. “I will bring about the destruction of the magi and the death of the Fane.”

Zach turned to face her. “Eve—”

“That’s why he wanted me to have the journal,” she went on without looking at him. “That’s the entire reason he’s interested in me.”

“Except that according to your mother’s visions, you will destroy the Dusties, too,” Danev pointed out. “You will end the civil war and presumably kill Simon in the process. Even if not, I can’t imagine he would care about ruling over a world of ashes.”

“You’re missing the point,” Shaedra said, her eyes narrowing. It had taken awhile for her to work it all through, but it was finally starting to click into place. “He thinks he can control her. He can use her power to turn the country against the magi, just like he did after Kalavan. He wants her close so he can watch her.”

Eve nodded slowly. “Once the magi are gone, he’ll have won. Factories can be rebuilt, but the Fane cannot. Once he’s convinced the torbos to unite and destroy all of our collected knowledge, then his industry will be all that’s left—and he’ll be the one that controls it.”

“That’s insane, even for him,” Zach muttered. “He’s an opportunist, not a nihilist.”

Shaedra shrugged. “Men do foolish things out of spite. You said yourself the Enclave scorned Chaval while he was at the academy—the magi turned against him, and ever since he’s lead a crusade to bring them down. Is this really that far-fetched to think all he really cares about is revenge?”

“I don’t know,” Danev murmured. “Maybe not.”

“Either way, it still means going to Cadotheia is a terrible idea,” Zach growled. “We should get as far away from him as possible.”

“Chaval isn’t our only problem,” Shaedra said. “At this point the Enclave will be searching for us, too. It’s only a matter of time before they learn what has happened, and the moment they do they will try to kill or capture Eve. Cadotheia might be the safest place to hide from them.”