Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) (29 page)

Once they were halfway across the city, Octavia felt more comfortable talking openly. “Your father was right,” she said quietly as they walked.

Korbin glanced at her. “About what?”

“Dul Seba was the one who hired the dark conduit.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” she said.

“So are you ready to tell me where we’re going?”

“To face him.”

“Seba?”

“No, the dark conduit,” Octavia said but didn’t elaborate. She had to focus, to prepare her mind for what would come when they arrived at Four Keithing.

Chapter 23

Korbin recognized the priest behind them, even though the lithe young man didn’t wear the red robes of the temple. He leaned in to whisper to Octavia. “We’re being followed.”

She glanced up at him, startled. “No,” she said in a hushed voice. “No one must follow us.” Her expression was pale and grim, much as it had been since she woke. Whatever happened in her sleep had disturbed her deeply.

Although Korbin didn’t understand, he nodded. He didn’t care for his father’s new choice of company any more than she did, and they’d proved to be dangerous and ruthless. And now, it seemed, his father had no sense of honor outside of his loyalty to his new goddess. Even taking all that into account, was going to confront the dark conduit alone really wise?

He self-consciously fingered the scarf that hid the protective braiding around his neck. Would he survive another attack? Perhaps Octavia thought the conduit was less dangerous in person, but he doubted that was true. So he had to hope she had some reason for not wanting the temple’s help in dispatching the person who had caused so much suffering.

The streets were unusually busy, especially considering that everyone had to show some token of identity before they could pass to a different quarter. For employed citizens, this wasn’t much of a problem.

Listening to the excited voices around them, Korbin gathered that the rumors of the emperor’s arrival had spread. It was almost like a feast-day, but there was a sense of anticipation in the streets Korbin hadn’t experienced before.

He and Octavia ducked through the throng, using the crowd to their benefit to try to dodge the priest who followed them. They wove into Centennial Square, almost unable to move through the crush of people waiting. Nobody knew where the emperor would appear, it seemed, or even if he would speak to the public, but nobody wanted to miss an opportunity most hadn’t seen in their lifetime.

A flow of onlookers slipped by, and the pair was able to move into it without any trouble. Korbin crouched down and pulled up his hood. Octavia’s smaller stature made it easier for her to get lost in a crowd. They held hands, but their fingers slipped away from each other. When Korbin arrived at the edge of the square where the wide street filtered into the more narrow avenues around it, he worried for a moment that Octavia wouldn’t find him.

Soon, however, she slid out of the crush and wove her way to him. Together, they pressed back into a dark alleyway and waited for the priest to appear. Korbin held his breath, despite the loud voices around him. He tried to relax, but Octavia was so clearly tense that he couldn’t. If she was worried, she had good reason.

They waited for at least a quarter hour. They were about to move when Korbin saw the priest. He was walking all around the street, scanning the crowd. Korbin pulled Octavia close. “Wait,” he whispered and turned his face away from the street to avoid even the dim lamplight in this darkened corner.

He found it difficult not to look the priest’s way. His heart was thumping, and he half-expected to hear the priest speak his name, now that he knew they were aware of him. But after a while, Korbin slowly turned, and saw that no one was watching. The priest had moved on.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Octavia asked when Korbin peered into the crowd.

“It looks like it,” he said.

She gave a small nod and moved out into the street, holding his hand again. She gripped it tight, as though he was a lifeline, and she led him south, toward Four Keithing.

Four times between Centennial Square and their destination, they were asked to show identity tokens. Each time, when they produced the red disks given to them by Braetin’s followers, the imperial guards looked them up and down and then nodded.

The final time, Octavia muttered as she put the disk back into her pocket. “I hate that thing.”

“It makes me feel like they’re watching,” Korbin said.

“They are. But I only needed a head start. Once I have spoken to him, the temple can do what it must.”

“So it is a man?” Korbin asked, following as Octavia led them deeper into the most run-down quarter of the city. She had always said she believed the dark conduit to be male, but the other conduits had disagreed. He had to admit, before their arrest, he’d suspected one of the Sennestelle they’d met at Dramworthy Farm.

She nodded, her expression tight. Finally, they stopped in front of a small, dark house. The street was forbidding and quiet. Distrust encompassed them as curtains shifted and lights extinguished in nearby buildings. “This place seems even gloomier and less inviting than the rest,” he said.

“It’s the wards,” she explained. “I’m surprised you sense them. Most people would feel unwelcome here, but not be aware of it. Instead they’d walk away, relieved to arrive outside his area of influence. It’s subtle and impressive magic, difficult to achieve.”

Korbin sensed she was stalling, and he didn’t blame her. He wasn’t feeling too confident himself. “How are we going to get in?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “We’re going to knock.”

Remembering the painful encounter he’d had with the conduit before, Korbin didn’t relish meeting the man face to face. It seemed like madness, but Octavia raised her hand and rolled her knuckles on the door.

Korbin didn’t expect anyone to answer, but after a few moments, the door rattled and a key clanked in the lock. When the door swung back, Korbin was shocked to see Rhikar on the other side.

The old conduit sighed. “I sensed you searching. You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

Octavia’s frown deepened. “Invite us in,” she said.

“Please, don’t do this.”

“I must,” she replied. “I have made a bargain with the Shadow goddess. I cannot turn back now.”

Rhikar’s eyes widened. “No, child. Surely not. I tried so hard to protect you.”

Octavia looked away. “I had no choice.”

With another heavy sigh, her mentor nodded and opened the door. “Come in.”

The small house was surprisingly bright and warm inside. It was as though the darkness enveloping it had been an illusion. Rhikar shrugged when he saw Korbin’s expression. “And old man likes his comforts, and as a merchant, I had many.” He offered them the two more comfortable-looking seats and took the hard, wooden chair furthest from the fire.

“Why?” she asked, sitting across from him. Korbin knew she wasn’t asking about his days as a merchant.

“Do you think I would have done any of this if I’d known what would happen? If I had any choice?”

Octavia shook her head. “I trusted you. Their blood is on your head.”

“I know,” Rhikar told her. “Believe me, nothing you can say will make me feel any worse.”

“You expect sympathy?” Octavia spat.

“No,” Rhikar said. He tapped his chest, and Korbin noticed a bulge there, as though he was wearing a pouch under his shirt. “I made many wrong choices.”

Something in his movements made Korbin tense and wary. “Octavia,” he said as a quiet warning. She tore her gaze away from Rhikar’s and raised her eyebrow.

“I won’t hurt her,” Rhikar said. “I couldn’t.”

“So it’s over?” Korbin asked.

Rhikar gave a humorless chuckle. “Oh, it’s far from over.” Fidgeting with the object under his shirt, after a long pause, he said, “Did you know I continued to take in students?”

“No,” Octavia said, looking puzzled. “I thought Minny was the last.”

The old man shook his head. “The last was—” he gasped suddenly and stopped short, then took a moment to catch his breath. “I’ve always enjoyed teaching,” he said, abruptly changing tacks. “I suppose in many ways, it’s a vanity of mine, wanting to pass along my knowledge, a way of showing off.” He smiled sadly.

Octavia nodded, but she looked confused. “I suppose I can see that. We all looked up to you, but you deserved our respect and admiration. You are very accomplished.”

Rhikar gave a shrug, but Korbin could tell that he enjoyed the praise. “I like to think so,” Rhikar said, “but my vanity has been my undoing.”

“So Dul Seba hired you, appealing to your vanity?” Korbin asked. “Did he approach you directly?”

Rhikar winced. He didn’t answer immediately.

Octavia put her hand on Korbin’s arm. “Shh,” she said. “He must tell us in his own way.” Her anger had disappeared, and she looked both sad and deeply concerned.

“It has been years since I took on a contract,” he said. “There’s something about practical magic that is compelling. Research has its own merits, of course, but there’s nothing like having actual influence.”

Octavia nodded, but it turned quickly into a shake of the head, a peculiarly Kilovian gesture. “You taught us to not seek influence for its own sake,” she said.

“Yes, I did.” He smiled, but his eyes were sad.

Korbin hated this strange, round-about conversation. Why didn’t Rhikar just tell them what they wanted to know or attack? He supposed the conduit wasn’t eager to hurt his favorite student. If he did, would Octavia be able to defend them both?

“But I suppose an old man likes to feel powerful again,” Rhikar said.

Octavia turned her face away. “For power?” she asked softly. “If you sought the darkness, you could have done it on your own. You didn’t need to involve the Talmorans or accept their money.”

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I didn’t seek the darkness for the sake of it.”

“You wanted influence,” Korbin said. “In the upper circles of Vol. So you took a commission?”

“No,” Rhikar said with a frown. “I took a student. Some time ago he came to my shop, and I detected he was in a moment of personal crisis. We struck up a conversation and I told him about the comfort to be found in the One. He was distant, but curious. He returned often. Our conversations grew more detailed. Before I knew it, I was teaching him our ways. He was surprisingly adept. His talent excited me.”

“You’re not the dark conduit,” Octavia said slowly.

“No, of course not. You would have recognized my work.” He tilted his head. “Surely you don’t doubt yourself so much you believe you wouldn’t have.”

She nodded. “It makes sense. The work was frenzied, full of hatred. I detected none of these things in you.”

“I have to be careful.” Rhikar took out the pouch around his neck.

“I understand,” Octavia said. “But you can help us?”

Rhikar nodded. “I will try.”

“You can’t just tell us your student’s name?” Korbin asked.

Octavia squeezed his arm. “No,” she said. “This is powerful binding magic. Be careful what you say.”

“I don’t need to give you the name,” Rhikar said.

Octavia nodded. “We already know it.”

Still confused, Korbin turned over recent conversations in his mind. Who could the other conduit be? It wasn’t one of those captured at Dramworthy. They were dead, if Rhikar and Graiphen were to be believed, not that Korbin counted either of them as trustworthy. What other Kilovians had they suspected? Surely the conduit had to be Kilovian. Then it dawned on him. “A Talmoran?” he whispered.

Octavia nodded, but put her finger to her lips, silencing him. Who hated Graiphen, Eliam, and Tarsten enough to not only want them out of the way, but who wanted to inflict a great deal of pain on them? Someone who bore a grudge against the Council. A very personal one.

“My father was right,” Korbin said.

Octavia answered with another silent nod.

Dul Seba hadn’t
hired
the dark conduit, he
was
the dark conduit. His wife had died a year before, Graiphen had said, and ever since then, he’d grown more reclusive. He’d been nobody on the council. Pushed around by the others. His wife’s death must have sent him over the edge.

“How did you know?” Korbin asked.

Octavia smiled sadly. “Your father said he had developed a taste for foreign cigars. The only shop in Vol that sells them is owned by my mentor. The coincidence of that plus his rise on the Council was too great.” She seemed to be avoiding saying Seba’s name, but why?

“It’s time,” Rhikar said finally.

“No.” Octavia reached over and took his hand. “We can fight this. Together.”

A single tear slid down the old man’s face. “My biggest regret is that I let you down. You have been like a daughter to me.”

“Please,” she said. “Let’s try.”

“I’ve been trying for months. I aided you and guided you as I could. I researched and practiced as best I could, but sometimes a student surpasses the teacher, as you have done. Sometimes, the student grows in ways that cannot be anticipated. Dark ways.”

“Together, we can accomplish even more.”

“Time has run out,” he said. “My bindings have grown too tight. I’ve come too close already. I will not escape my fate. This is what I deserve for my folly.”

Octavia sighed. “Then let us go do what we can on our own. Do not put yourself in further danger. If I can reach him, I can save us both.”

Rhikar shook his head. “It’s too late for me. But tell me, what was the nature of the bargain you struck with the Shadow goddess?”

“Our freedom in exchange for destroying the dark conduit.”

“And if you do not succeed?” Rhikar asked. “The Talmoran gods do not accept failure easily.”

Octavia swallowed and glanced at Korbin. “The price is high. We must not fail.”

“There are some things,” Rhikar said, “worse even than immersion in the dark side of the One.”

He believed Braetin worse than the dark conduit? Korbin found it hard to choose between the two, but having grown up with the concept of the Spirits of Shadow, they seemed less evil, less menacing. They were merely the necessary balance to the Spirits of Light. Still, seeing what Braetin demanded of his father gave him pause.