Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) (32 page)

“Stop!” Octavia shouted. “You’re making him stronger.”

He is a worthy talent,
this
child of Eurmus, but devoted to no one.
She turned her voice and cast it at Seba.
You seek revenge, child. A goal I approve of and can easily bestow. Come to me.

“No!” Octavia yelled again. If Seba joined with Braetin, it would be ten times worse than Graiphen at the head of the temple. He would be unstoppable. She reached for the iron nail in front of her. She hadn’t planned to use it. The object had been requested to keep Graiphen in line when she had intended to influence his will, a goal which had failed miserably.

Gathering all her energy, Octavia took the small mallet and with a shout, pounded the nail through the Shadow and into the ground. The goddess screamed and Octavia’s additional strength failed as the Spirit withdrew from her.

“Guide me through the darkness,” she whimpered and wiped the sweat off her brow. She wasn’t even certain who she was speaking to, but the thought settled her as Seba regrouped.

Braetin whipped around and struggled, but the nail held her essence in place. Demons formed all around Octavia, but she closed her eyes and let the power of the stars fill her. She was the One. She was everything. She recognized Braetin for what she was: an interloper, a foreign presence in this realm. Octavia was not the foreigner. Braetin was, a powerful entity that fed on the emotions and fears of the native people.

Seba attacked once more, but he had nothing to connect him directly to Octavia as he had with Korbin. He was strong, but she had an advantage. Her poppet was tied to him, and she focused on her binding magic. She pulled up the Talmoran dress and exposed her thigh. Using the silver blade, she cut deeply, more deeply than she ever had before. The blood gushed, and she held the poppet to the cut, covering it with wet, red essence.

“I bind you,” she whispered. Just as she had protected Korbin, she now used her blood to tie Seba.

Laying back, she fought to stay conscious. The power would only stay in place as long as she lived. She just hoped she could hang on long enough to do some good. She reached for a rag to try to stop the bleeding, but she had grown weak.

Demons shouted and feet scurried around her. The goddess didn’t like being bound. “Hurry,” Octavia whispered to Korbin.

∞

The procession of red-robed priests had moved more quickly than Korbin had expected, but still not fast enough to suit him. When they arrived at Seba’s manor, Graiphen acted surprised to be stopped at the door.

He turned to one of Seba’s guards, a member of the city watch. “Aren’t all of the Council of Eight invited this evening?”

“Yes, of course, Dul Graiphen,” the guard replied. “But you’re—”

“According to the law, a senator can only be removed by order of the emperor. Has the emperor made such an order?”

The guard looked at his comrades. “I…”

“If he has,” Graiphen said, “I have not heard of it. Don’t you think I would know if I had been dismissed from the position?”

“But you quit,” another of the guards said. “Dul Seba is head of the Council now. How could he be if you still were on the Council?”

“How indeed?” Graiphen replied.

Korbin had to hand it to him. His father could talk his way into or out of just about anything.

An Imperial guardsman came from within the house and addressed the soldier. “What’s the trouble?” He didn’t even glance in Graiphen’s direction nor acknowledge the twenty elder priests with him.

“Dul Graiphen has arrived. He claims to be a member of the Council of Eight, and therefore an invited guest.”

“And my son Dul Korbin,” Graiphen said. “And these are elders in the Spirit Braetin’s service.”

The guardsman nodded. “I will inquire.” He marched away at double speed, and Korbin fought his impatience. Seba was inside. How he could be hosting a dinner while fighting with Octavia, Korbin didn’t know, but they had to reach the emperor before Dul Seba finished the task.

Graiphen turned to Korbin. “Tell me Seba’s secret,” he said quietly. “Where he hides the evidence. If Octavia fails, and you fall again, I need to know how to defeat him.”

Korbin shook his head. He didn’t trust Graiphen a hair’s breadth. “You have betrayed me so many times I cannot count, but the most recent was only tonight. Do you think I would trust you again?”

“Stop thinking of your own problems, you selfish boy,” Graiphen hissed under his breath. “Think of the greater good of Talmor. Seba must be finished.”

“Then you’d better make sure I don’t fall under his influence again.”

Graiphen scowled. “Foolish child. You always have been.”

Korbin ignored his father’s words. After everything he’d seen in the past couple of days, he no longer cared what this man thought of him.

The imperial guardsman returned. “His imperial highness wishes to see Dul Graiphen and meet his son.” He glanced at the other priests. “But only these two.”

Graiphen nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to the priests. “You may return to the temple.”

“Ultim Qardon,” one of them began. He was an older man, obviously one who thought himself in charge. Korbin considered what a strange couple of weeks it must have been for the priesthood of Braetin, never knowing quite who their leader was. But then, ultimately, it was the Spirit herself. Korbin shuddered when he recalled feeling her presence.

“I will return soon,” Graiphen said. Without waiting for a response, he swept past the city watchmen and followed the Imperial Guard.

Korbin trailed behind his father and couldn’t help but suspect they were walking into a trap.

They were shown into the house, an austere manor fashioned of dark granite. Music filtered through the entryway, and voices chattered from beyond. The sounds of gaiety seemed false and inappropriate to Korbin, given the darkness brewing around them.

The guardsman pointed to a side room, away from the party. “In here.”

Graiphen and his son entered, and the guardsman shut the door behind them.

Minutes passed in silence. “I don’t like this,” Graiphen said. “We are to expose Seba publicly. How can we do that locked away in here?”

“We have to hurry,” Korbin said. “Octavia can’t hold out forever.”

“She has the aid of the living Spirit of Shadow,” Graiphen reminded him.

That was part of what was worrying Korbin. He didn’t like her being left alone in that temple. She knew her business, of course, but he couldn’t see any of this ending well.

The outer door thrust open, and a tall young man only about a decade older than Korbin strode in. He was dressed in a gold-threaded black tunic. He was handsome in a boyish way but had a bored look about him. Korbin stared.

Graiphen bowed. “Your imperial highness,” he said. It took Korbin a moment to bow as well. This man was not what he expected.

“Dul Graiphen,” the emperor said. His eyes took in Graiphen’s robes. “Or should I say Ultim Qardon?”

“I serve the empire and the temple both.” Graiphen bowed again.

The emperor shook his head. “I fail to see how that is possible. Too many times, the two worlds conflict. For example, I understand your temple was responsible for the deaths of twenty people in the square and that your priests executed two senators in the street. Have you come to present yourself for justice? To ask for mercy?”

“Your highness, Braetin’s temple had nothing to do with the deaths of Duls Eliam and Tarsten. I swear this to you. We were framed to draw your attention. And the acolytes of Braetin gave themselves willingly, as her servants have the right to do, according to the law. The others who died in the square were an unfortunate accident. Surely the crown cannot hold me responsible for accidents?”

A voice floated to Korbin’s mind.
Hurry
, Octavia said.

“If I could interrupt?” he said. “I’m really sorry to be rude, your highness, but we’re here to tell you something important.”

The emperor raised his eyebrow in a way that made Korbin feel about as tall as a flea. “You must be Dul Korbin.” He glanced at Graiphen. “I fail to see the resemblance.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Korbin said without thinking, and the emperor barked a laugh. The emperor had a strange sense of humor, but Korbin thought he must be quite bored with all the bowing and ceremony. Surely he’d want to just get to the heart of the matter.

“Be quiet,” Graiphen hissed at his son. “Do you not realize who you’re talking to?”

The emperor chuckled. “Let him talk, Graiphen. Do tell me what has brought you here.”

Emboldened by the emperor’s encouragement, Korbin continued. “Your host Dul Seba. We have proof that he’s practicing black magic. He’s the one that was behind the attack on my father, the one that led him to take refuge in the temple to begin with. He’s abused me and others. We believe it likely he has some hold on the other members of the Council as well. According to the Kilovian conduit who taught him, he bears a grudge against all of the Council of Eight and their families. He’s determined to kill or destroy us. He’s the one who killed Dul Eliam and Dul Tarsten.”

The emperor stared in silence for a moment, then blinked slowly. “That’s quite a list of accusations. And based on the word of a foreign witch. You have proof?”

“I don’t, but—” Korbin began, and Graiphen spun to face him.

“Are you insane? You and your witch companion told me you could prove Seba’s corruption.”

The emperor frowned. “I think it’s time you both went. Dul Graiphen, I will not strip your title until your crimes have been assessed, but you’re no longer a member of the Council of Eight. Confine yourself to your temple or your residence until such time as a trial can be arranged.”

“Wait, please,” Korbin said. “I’m not saying there isn’t proof. There is. It’s here. In this house.”

The door opened and an older man walked through. He looked harried and distressed. “Your imperial highness,” he said. “I’ve been concerned.”

“Seba,” Graiphen muttered. “What are you doing, bursting in here uninvited?”

“Quiet,” the emperor said. His voice was low, but commanding. No one dared breathe. He turned to Seba. “You’ve looked ill all evening and keep disappearing.”

“Forgive me, your imperial highness. I think I ate something at midday that made me feel poorly all afternoon. A bit of spoiled fish, perhaps.”

“Spoiled fish,” Graiphen muttered.

The emperor turned to Korbin. “What is this proof you speak of?”

“Proof, your highness?” Seba asked, looking mildly concerned.

“Of your black magic,” Graiphen said.

“Surely you don’t put any stock in such nonsense,” Seba said to the emperor.

“I’m here to investigate what has been happening in the city, Seba. Earlier today, you denounced Graiphen to me, saying he and his son both had practiced dark arts, that he had two of my senators killed, but you offered no proof. These two say there is evidence. If there is, I will see it.”

“I am to be insulted in my own home by this boy and his crazy father? You know of the rumors of his ill health, your highness, but perhaps you do not realize his illness was of the mind. It’s tragic, of course, but we should not listen to his ramblings. His son could be forgiven for his bad manners, naturally, but we mustn’t indulge them too far.”

Korbin addressed the emperor. “He’ll be wearing some kind of talismans of Kilovian witchcraft. Next to his skin. Objects of power he crafted himself. They will have hair, blood, and bones attached. The most powerful substances in those arts. I expect there will be four, assuming he no longer wears the ones attached to Duls Eliam and Tarsten.”

Seba’s temper boiled over. “Next to my skin?” he spat. “So you want me to strip down to prove my innocence?”

“Yes,” Korbin said.

“This is outrageous,” Seba shouted. “I will do no such thing.” He turned to the emperor. “Call your guards. Have these men removed.”

The emperor didn’t even blink. He stood completely still. A perfect silence fell on the room.

Seba stuttered, realizing what he’d done. “I mean, if it please you, your highness. Forgive me, I beg you. I’m in a state of utter exasperation.”

“Dul Seba,” the emperor said. “Take off your clothes.”

The Dul blanched. “Your imperial highness, surely—”

“Do it or my guardsmen will help you.”

Seba’s face went red with anger and a string of curses erupted from his mouth. A look of pure hatred warped his face, and he flung himself at Korbin, his bony fingers outstretched to wrap them around his neck. “You!” he shouted.

Before he could cross the distance, the imperial guard had swarmed the room. “Arrest him,” one of the guardsmen ordered. “Protect the emperor.” Two placed themselves between the emperor and Seba, and the others pulled the wiry old man away from Korbin.

Even Graiphen looked shocked at the transformation in Seba. The once quiet and reserved Dul was spitting with fury, shouting and kicking.

“Pull back his robes,” the emperor said. “I want to see this ‘proof’ for myself.”

“Be careful,” Korbin warned, then quickly added, “your imperial highness.” He bowed. “Anything you find might be very dangerous and should be disposed of properly.”

“My temple can assist with the disposal,” Graiphen added.

“Or my friend Octavia will help. She’s quite an accomplished practitioner. She’s been working to protect all of us tonight.”

The emperor listened but didn’t answer. Instead, he nodded to the guardsman, who began to strip Seba’s clothing off. The old man fought, but couldn’t stop them from revealing the objects he wore around his chest. Six tiny heads wrapped in wire with little barbs distorting the features fashioned into a necklace. One looked alarmingly like the emperor himself.

“Don’t touch them,” Korbin warned the guardsman. “Put them in a sack but don’t expose your skin. I’ll take them to Octavia.”

The emperor curled his lip in disgust. “Do as he says.” Turning to Korbin, he added, “I’d like to meet this Octavia. She is Kilovian?”

“Yes, your imperial highness,” Korbin said, watching the guardsman carefully remove the objects from Seba’s chest. “And if I might, Dul Seba should be checked for other objects. He probably has a workroom here in the house. It will need to be cleaned by someone who knows what they’re doing.”