Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (45 page)

Caldan averted his eyes. “It looks the same to me.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s getting better. Look at me!” she screeched, grabbing his head and forcing him to look into her face. “My hair, it’s growing out darker. Can’t you see?”

Caldan peered at her hair and saw she was right. Though the strands were gray, the roots were dark, as if she had dyed her hair gray and her natural color was growing out.

He sat up. “Miranda. Would she be cured?”

Elpidia shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Hers is an injury to the mind, while mine is… was a physical disease. I couldn’t say for sure, but it’s unlikely she would benefit.”

“But we can try.”

She nodded slowly. “We can, of course. But you might be disappointed. Wait here. Let me get my things, and we can extract more.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she hurried out of the room with a spring in her step, one hand tugging her shirt up over her shoulder.

My blood, wondered Caldan. It must be because he was Touched. Elpidia told him his unnatural healing was linked to his blood. He thought back to what Joachim had said only a few hours earlier, when Caldan thought he’d been hiding something.

Those families remain pure, their blood…

A secret as big as this would become known, and those who could profit from it would do their best to ensure no one else knew about it, or had access to it. Which explained why the emperor wanted all the Touched under his control, and was possibly another reason Caldan’s family had been hunted and his parents killed.

Caldan seethed and clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. Did Joachim know? Or did he suspect? Maybe they all did, those close to the emperor.

If Elpidia’s disease could be cured and her hair grow back a different color, as if she’d become younger… what greater lure for those in power than staying young and disease free? And what better way to reward those around you and keep them in check?

How much did Joachim know? Surely only a select few knew the real secret. It would be easy to disguise blood as an alchemical potion of some sort. Some herbs, maybe a strong spirit added, and no one would be the wiser. The real source of the miracle would remain hidden.

How much would a wealthy noble or merchant pay to heal an ailing wife or child? More ducats than Caldan would know what to do with, of that he was certain.

As Elpidia bustled back in with her blood-drawing paraphernalia, he came to a decision.

“Close the door,” he said firmly.

“What? Yes, of course. People would ask questions if they saw, but—”

“Stop and listen, Elpidia. You cannot tell anyone of this.”

Elpidia gave a timid nod. “I thought as much. You wouldn’t want everyone clamoring after you. Some would want to drain you dry.”

At her words, Caldan felt a chill up his spine.
Drain you dry.
What happened to those who were Touched but didn’t want to go along with the emperor’s plans for them? And to those who were no longer useful? To some immoral people, letting them go or die would be a waste, and they’d be of far more value if their blood was retained. Was the emperor capable of such a thing?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Caldan knew he would be. No one that powerful, and with the resources he had, would be ignorant of such things happening. Which meant he was an accomplice to them, at the least.

His mouth went dry. “Exactly. No one else can know.”

“Don’t worry,” said Elpidia cheerfully. “We’ll keep it between us. We can start making alchemical potions for the sick. We’ll give it to the poor for free, while charging the nobles a fortune.”

Caldan grabbed her arm, and she squealed.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me.”

“Elpidia, listen. The emperor must know already. I think Joachim may as well, which is why he’s here. They’ve kept this hidden for centuries, perhaps longer. Who knows? There is great danger in this knowledge. I fear… they’ll kill you, if they think you know this secret.”

“Don’t be silly. This could be a great benefit to everyone! We can use the ducats from the nobles to help the sick and the poor—”

“Stop! Joachim will kill you.”

At his words Elpidia, went quiet. She looked around the room, frowning, then nodded. “I can see how some people would try to keep this to themselves…” She trailed off.

“What do you know about the warlocks? Or even the nobles and councilors in the emperor’s inner circle?”

“I don’t… What do you mean? Do you want to know what their roles are, what they do?”

Caldan shook his head. “No. Do any of them ever die from disease? The wasting sickness? Do they live longer than normal?”

“I… I’ve never heard of one of them dying, other than of natural causes, or violence. But that doesn’t mean… and the emperor wouldn’t… he just wouldn’t…”

“He has to know, and who could resist? Is this why the emperor lives longer than normal?” It had to be. And those around him relied on staying in his good graces to keep them healthy and youthful, long past the time they would deteriorate due to age.

“It’s the sorcery, isn’t it? He must have
trinket
s and
crafting
s that help.”

“No, I’m afraid not. No sorcery I know of can heal or extend life. If there was a way before the Shattering, it’s been lost. Or perhaps that’s another secret someone’s discovered. It’s one people would kill for as well.”

Elpidia’s face had lost all color. “What… what should we do?”

Caldan rolled his sleeve up and held out his arm. “You need more blood, just to make sure all’s well with you. Then we can worry about what to do. I fear Joachim will try to bind me to him somehow, or at the very least keep me on a short leash. When we first met, he said it was rare I was also a sorcerer, but in the end, I suspect that won’t be enough to save me from whatever fate they have in store. We must prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.”

•

Amerdan made sure he wasn’t seen, even avoiding entering the mouth of the alley when a drunken man spilled out of a nearby tavern and wandered past him. He continued on and made a few left turns, completing a circuit of the surrounding streets before once again approaching the alley.

With the streets clear in the dark night, he slipped into the even darker opening then through a locked door. Up the flight of steps, he paused at their door, knocking softly before letting himself in.

Bells barely glanced at him as he entered their apartment, focused as she was on her
crafting
s. He could sense them itching at his mind. There were a few places where he couldn’t scratch the feeling away. The sorcerer had been sparse with her explanations of what she was up to, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good for the empire or the Protectors. Whatever she was doing, she’d barely paused in her work, except when she needed more supplies, or to snatch some sleep. A number of her
crafting
s had cracked or warped, and she’d discarded them with curses. She hadn’t been sleeping well when she took breaks from her work, tossing in her sleep and murmuring to herself. A few times, he’d heard her moan Keys’ name, and at those times, Amerdan smiled to himself.

He felt certain she’d dispose of him as soon as he outlived his usefulness. That’s what sorcerers did. She’d given him some time when he’d freed her, but she was going to kill him soon. Or so she thought.

Amerdan gave her a smile, though she wasn’t looking anymore, and deposited a cloth-wrapped parcel on the table next to her.

“They’re all there?” asked Bells.

“Yes. The merchant wasn’t too happy about parting with his merchandise to a non-sorcerer, but I managed to persuade him.”

“Good.” Bells opened the cloth to reveal a small pile of rare earth crystals. She used a finger to search through them, separating out a few blue stones, then turned to Amerdan with a frown.

“There’s only three here. I told you I needed at least five.”

Five, thought Amerdan. He remembered very well what she’d said, which had led him to keep the other two crystals for himself.

He shrugged.

Bells cursed. “I can’t go into the streets anymore, not during the day. You’re going to have to do better than this. There isn’t much time.”

Amerdan stopped his hand as it moved toward his knife. Not yet. She is needed.

“It was all he had. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Bells ran her fingers through her dark hair, crafted bells tinkling. “Another night lost,” she muttered. “Close. It’s getting close.”

Until the emperor and his army arrive, realized Amerdan. It was plain she was planning a surprise the empire wouldn’t like, and he was certain she intended to assassinate the emperor, using the sorcerous coin Amerdan had taken from the Protector to get close. Except, she couldn’t use the coin herself now. Her plans had been altered, and he wasn’t privy to them.

Time to push her, he decided. If he was forced to kill her before she’d finished her task, he’d have to find someone else to help him unblock his well, and it was unlikely they’d be as agreeable as Bells was now. He didn’t like the idea of a captured sorcerer poking around in his mind; this one was bad enough.

His skin crawled at the thought of her inside him, and he almost did her then and there. With an effort, he restrained himself after taking a step toward the bitch. Inside his shirt, his only friend squirmed.

Bells noticed his movement and regarded him with a curious stare.

“Is there something you wanted?” she said.

Amerdan swallowed, forcing himself to calm. “As a matter of fact, there is. You’ve yet to fulfill your part of our bargain.”

Bells waved his words away with a hand. “Soon. I’ve still much to do here before everything is ready. You’ll have to wait.”

But she was lying. He knew she would probably try to capture him to study or worse. It’s what sorcerers did. He’d seen it himself. Soon he’d have to find someone else to teach him.

“You won’t be able to do much tonight without the crystals.”

Bells paused. “What makes you say that?”

“You said it yourself a moment ago. And I’ve watched your progress. Places for the stones are ready, but you’re two short.”

She eyed him shrewdly. “An astute observation. I suppose I could use the rest.”

“Perhaps this is an opportunity to take another look at my problem?”

They stared at each other, silence stretching. Eventually, Bells shrugged.

“Very well. Make yourself comfortable. But, I’m tired, so I won’t be able to do much this session.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he gushed, sure that was how he should react—a grateful, simple shopkeeper who could see himself joining the elite ranks of the sorcerers.

He sat in a chair, and she approached, taking his head in her hands. Again, he had to stop himself from sticking her for her presumption. He had a vision of Bells lying naked on the table, with him on top of her,
trinket
in one hand and bloody knife in the other.

He smiled widely, breathing her scent in as her hair caressed him, and trembled with anticipation.

“It’s all right,” Bells said, looking him in the eye and trying to reassure him. “This shouldn’t hurt.”

Strangely, the kind words and the smell of her made him forget killing her. In the dim lamplight, Bells was an attractive woman… No. That way led to pain.

Forget her, whispered his rag doll.

Amerdan settled back and closed his eyes, concentrating on what the sorcerer was doing. The last time they’d had a session, he thought he’d been able to see flashes of light, tendrils of… something coming from her.

His fists clenched as he felt her scratching inside his head. He thought back to her lying naked under his blade until calmness returned.

Dark. That was all he could see. Darkness of a sort, but with a graininess he couldn’t describe. A patch of light wove into his mind. He could feel her invading him. The last and only sorcerer to invade him physically and mentally hadn’t been prepared for what he’d created, and Amerdan had gained his
trinket
as a result.

Scratch. Scratch. Bells scrabbled around inside his head, focused on a patch of something. What was it? One of his wells, that much he knew, but why was it different from a sorcerer’s well? Any other talents he’d gained from his
trinket
had eventually revealed themselves. But this one, he wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for Bells. And it was blocked to him. That was frustrating, knowing such power was close, so close, yet not being able to access it.

A spike of pain stabbed into his skull. “Argh,” he murmured, opening one eye to look at Bells.

“Sorry. But there’s something to one of these blocked wells. It feels older somehow, and the barrier is rougher, more brittle.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ve managed to wiggle a thread through a chink, which was what caused the pain.” Bells paused to wipe sweat from her brow. “But…”

“Out with it.”

“That was the smallest intrusion I could manage, and it must have hurt. I’m at a loss for what to do… If I expand the thread or try to force the chink open further, the pain will be excruciating. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to bear it for long, and I’ll need a great deal of time to work it wider.

Amerdan snorted. For this, he could tolerate anything the woman could do to him. The older, more brittle blockage must be from his childhood, when he’d killed the sorcerer who’d kept him captive and mutilated his sisters, all but one…

His heart clenched, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Even after all this time, the memories pained him. Would he never be rid of them?

He clenched his hands into fists and nodded to Bells. “Do whatever you have to. I’m ready.”

She looked at him and shrugged. “I’d probably say the same, but you’ll feel differently soon.”

He could sense her as she scrabbled inside his mind. Pressure grew in his head, until it felt like it was about to burst. Needles dug into him, stabbing and stabbing, over and over again. He swallowed bile as tears leaked from his eyes.

Agony tore at his head, traveling down his neck, through his bones, under his ribs, and into his legs. He clutched at the chair but his hands had gone numb. He thought he cried out but couldn’t be sure. His back spasmed as the pain went on and on.