The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (16 page)

“You don’t leave it at the sky port?” She
asked. She could see other ships docked at regular intervals around
them, and she noted mentally that of all the ships, his was the
only one that was plain grey. The rest were brightly painted and
gleamed like jewels in the mage light.

“No, too many know
The Shade
is mine,
and I don’t want anyone to sabotage her,” he answered quietly. He
dropped the diamond into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled a
pair of glasses out of another. They were of deep blue glass with
delicate platinum frames. He carefully unfolded them and put them
on.

She raised an eyebrow at him. She had seen
the colored glasses before. Father Timmons had a pair he used on
very sunny days when he was traveling. She had never seen anyone
wear them at night, though. And while the round glasses did look
good on him, she couldn’t see the point in wearing them now, and
she rather liked being able to look into his eyes. He had
expressive eyes that seemed to sparkle when he was amused. They
were the perfect shade of blue, not too dark nor washed out. With a
jab of panic, she wondered if he could read minds like Fortune had.
She gave him a sideways glance, and when he showed no reaction let
out a short quiet sigh of relief.

“Sun bothering you?” she asked with obvious
sarcasm, more to get her mind from its previous wandering than from
her desire to tease him.

He gave her a grin and leaned toward her.
“See the runes?” he asked.

Now that he had pointed them out, she did see
tiny inscriptions around the edges of the blue glass. They were so
small that, unless you were looking for them, you wouldn’t notice
them. She gave him a slight nod.

“They’re enchanted. I see better at night
with them on, and they will nullify spells such as invisibility or
a shadow cloak,” he explained as he began walking toward the edge
of the sky port at a leisurely pace.

“You really are paranoid, aren’t you? Do you
really have that many people trying to kill you?” she asked.

“You will be too, once you’ve lived in
Sanctuary a while. As to how many are trying to kill me, currently
I have no idea, but I always find it safer to assume at least five
to keep me on my toes.”

She fell into step beside him as they made
their way down a set of stairs that never seemed to end. She could
see most of the inner city from this height. In the distance, there
was an immense circular building with what looked like statues
lining the roof. Each statue was lined in faint mage light of
varied colors. “This is the inner city. That building you are
staring at is the Arena.” He indicated the circular building with a
half-hearted wave in its direction. “No one house rules here. It is
deemed neutral ground, and the penalty for bloodshed here is death
or exile. That’s any kind of bloodshed, even simple brawling. The
only exception is when the Justicars perform an execution.” He cast
a glance around them as they walked. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t
happen though. The common Immortal belief is this: if you can do it
without anyone knowing you did it, it’s legal.”

“So, essentially, no place is safe?” she
asked. Her eyes moved to the sides of the stairway they were
traveling down, and suddenly found herself wishing there was some
kind of railing. It seemed to her if she lived in a city where
everyone wanted to kill her, she would want railings on all the
stairs.

He seemed to consider the question.
“Essentially, I suppose. Some places are safer than others. I don’t
worry when I’m in my ship, and I’m not as paranoid in my home
country. There aren’t many places I let my guard down in Sanctuary,
though, unless I have close friends nearby.” He gave her a smile.
“This is a morbid topic, though. You should be enjoying the sights.
Sanctuary is all dressed up this week for the Spring Games and
Academy Admissions. She isn’t usually this lit up, so it’s a
special occasion for her.”

“Spring Games?” she repeated, her tone
questioning.

“It’s where we all get dressed up in pretty
armor and pretend we are friends and try to kill each other in
various contests, while pretending we don’t actually want to kill
each other.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Well, at least most of
them do anyway. I myself do not Joust. I am horrible with a bow,
and I won’t enter the ring of swords because it would require me to
fight friends, and I will not fight a friend.” He motioned behind
them as they stepped off the last stair onto the street below.
“There will be a sky race as well. That’s why so many spell hawks
are in town.” He spoke quietly so his voice wouldn’t carry.

“Will you be in it?” she asked, keeping her
own voice low, as well.

He gave a slight shake of the head and she
thought she saw a flicker of disappointment on his face. “No, not
this year. I won last year’s by over thirty minutes, and my father
wasn’t at all pleased.”

She looked at him in confusion. “I would have
thought he would be proud that you had won. My father always beamed
when I succeeded at something.” She felt a small pang at the
mention of her father but pushed it back down quickly. This was
neither the time nor the place to get misty-eyed.

“Spell hawk speed is determined by your
magical strength, so he feels that by not fighting and proving my
martial strength I have just made myself a bigger target by showing
off my magical strength.” He glanced at her expression and grinned.
“I can see the question without your asking. If I have magical
strength, couldn’t I defend myself with magic? The answer is yes,
but in doing so, I drain myself and leave myself open to an attack
from another side. That’s what keeps Immortals from blowing each
other to bits with spells. We only have so much in reserve, and if
we use too much, we become vulnerable. That’s where swords and bows
come in. The general rule is melee first and magic if you
must.”

“So, by refusing to fight against your
friends, others may believe you cannot use a sword well, and magic
is your only defense,” she said cautiously, and he nodded. “So the
only way you could enter the sky race and keep your father happy
would be to enter the sword contest and prove you can fight well,”
she concluded.

“Exactly!” he agreed with a nod.

“Why exactly do they have an Academy if they
all want to kill each other? It seems rather foolish to send your
children to school with enemies,” she said.

“There are two types of Immortals in the
prison, those with the will to fight, and those that provoke the
fights. Those willing to fight, built the Academy in hopes that if
we, the children of the Houses, were placed together we might get
along. So far it has mostly failed. Those provoking the fight went
along with the idea for a couple of reasons. On one hand, it gave
them a chance to spy, while on the other hand it gave them a chance
to find suitable marriages,” he explained.

“They marry their enemies?” she asked,
incredulous.

He gave a slight nod. “When they have to.
They have three choices in that. Incest, weakening the blood by
mating with mortals or half-bloods, or marry another High House.
However, not all choose the enemy.”

They walked along for a bit in silence while
she pondered all he had told her, and she tried not to gawk at the
buildings they passed. Most of them had mage lights enhancing the
architecture. Here and there, she would see a mural covering a wall
and silently promised herself to come back and see them in the
daylight as soon as she had the time. When she showed an
overwhelming interest in a building or fountain, he would slow his
steps enough to allow her a closer look, without a word of
complaint.

“Thank you for everything, Christian. I had
thought I would be fine here on my own, but with everything you
have shown me and taught me in just the short time I’ve known you,
I realize how lost I would have been,” she said as he slowed his
steps for perhaps the tenth time since they had left the stairs. It
was a fountain that had caught her attention this time. It was
solid white marble with a statue of a man holding an upraised sword
on a rearing horse crowning it. The details on it were so precise
it was as if someone had encased a living animal in stone and
placed it on display.

“Think nothing of it,” he replied. He gave
her a smile and tucked his hands into his coat pockets, his pace
slow, giving her plenty of time to look the statue over. “That’s
actually one of my favorites in the entire city. It’s about three
hundred and fifty years old, though it certainly doesn’t look
it.”

She looked from the statue to him. “It looks
as though it had a name plate, but I think it’s been stolen. Who is
it?”

“It wasn’t stolen; it was removed when the
man supposedly dishonored himself. That’s Caspian, former High
Commander of the Justicars. That building in front of the fountain
is the Hall of the Justicars.” He smirked slightly. “I’m sure it
galls the Justicars to look on him daily.”

She looked past the fountain and studied the
massive building behind it. It was perhaps three stories with five
white columns lining the front. The columns appeared to have
writing on them, but she didn’t want to approach any closer to read
them. After Fortune’s story of the Justicars, she had lost all
fascination with the organization. She could still remember her
father’s reaction to her asking if he had been a Justicar, as well,
and it doubled her desire to be away from the building.

“I’m surprised they didn’t have the entire
statue removed instead of just the name plate.” She gave the statue
one last look and moved back to his side.

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a curious
look over his glasses. “You know who Caspian is?” he asked.

She avoided looking at him, knowing she would
have a look of dismay on her face, and focused on the cobbled
street before them until she could master her expression. “What
makes you say that?” she asked.

“You didn’t ask how he dishonored himself. If
you didn’t already know you would have asked,” he replied with a
smile.

She took a few more silent steps, trying to
decide how best to answer. She would have to learn to watch her
tongue better in the future. He did not miss a thing and she was
not used to guarding her words. “I heard the story once,” she
answered carefully, hoping he would let the topic drop.

“So you’ve heard the story of the Fionaveir
but not the Creation of Sanctuary? Of the two, the Fionaveir is a
much better story, one of my favorites, actually,” he mused aloud.
He nodded slowly and gave her a glance. “And you are very
uncomfortable right now, so I’ll drop the topic. Ask me another
question and let’s get this conversation back to somewhere you are
comfortable.”

“The city is so big, how do people get around
it daily?” she asked with gratitude obvious in her voice and
expression. She’d been pondering the question already and was more
than happy for a change in conversation.

“Portal stones, horses in some quarters, or
simply walking. It’s rather late now, so no one is really moving
about, but in the daytime, these streets are teaming with buggies
and such,” he answered. “I usually just walk myself. I rarely go
far from the Academy when I’m in school, and when I’m not I live in
my family’s quarter of the city, and everything I need is right in
that area. The only time I travel to Morcath is to take my father
his taxes.”

“So I’m not just lucky to have seen you in
Brannaford, I’m really lucky,” she said with a chuckle.

“Only twice a year it could have happened,”
he said with a nod. “I take the taxes to him in the spring and
fall.”

“Shouldn’t someone other than his son be
doing that? Or is there no one else he can trust with it?” she
asked.

“It’s my job,” he replied simply. “It’s
customary for the heirs of a house to rule their portion of
Sanctuary since we aren’t likely to inherit our own homelands,
given our parents are Immortal. On one hand, it keeps the heirs
busy, and on the other, it trains us to govern if the event ever
arises that we must take over our family lands. In my case, that
won’t happen because I have an uncle that would be much more suited
to the job than I would. In the extremely unlikely event my father
is killed.”

“I had no idea you were the heir,” she
admitted. “I thought your father had been here since the
beginning.”

“He has.” He gave her a glance and gave a
snort of amusement. “I am young to be the heir. My father had other
children, but they died before I was born. He doesn’t speak of
them, so I’m not sure exactly how they died. That isn’t the sort of
question you ask anyone outside your own house.”

He led her around another corner and stopped
in front of a wrought iron gate, big enough for a ship to sail
through. Beyond it stretched a tree-lined road with wide open grass
fields on either side. She looked through the gate curiously as he
produced a key and opened a smaller gate fashioned into the right
side of the larger one. He stepped back, pulled it open, and
motioned her through. She stepped lightly through and felt the air
tingle on her skin as she passed under the iron.

“Is this a park?” she asked, confused as to
why they would have a locked gate on a park.

He gave a light chuckle and locked the gate
behind them. “No, this is the front gate of the Academy,” he
answered. He began walking again, and she quickly fell into step
beside him. “Once we get past the first trees you will see the
school itself. If the school were actually in session right now,
you would see the lights from here. However, the main buildings
will be dark for the next week, though.”

“But I thought it was supposed to be one of
the biggest buildings in Sanctuary?”

“It is. You will see soon,” he replied.

She gave him another glance and remained
silent. They walked for nearly ten minutes before they were
actually past the first trees. She was still examining the last of
them, admiring the large white blooms that seemed to cover the
upper branches when she realized he was no longer walking. She
looked over at him curiously wondering what had stopped him. With a
slight smile, he simply pointed straight ahead down the path. She
raised an eyebrow and turned to look. With a gasp, she realized why
she hadn’t noticed the Academy building from the gate. It was dark
stone that blended well with the shadows of the night and took up
most of the horizon in front of her. Her jaw dropped open at the
sheer size of it. Row after row of windows glinted faintly in the
starlight. She couldn’t even fathom a guess as to how tall it was,
nor had she imagined a building could be that big.