Silverkin

“You have no idea what an honor it is to serve her. Come, priest.”


Exeres trembled. He clenched his jaw shut and forced his feet to move, one step at a time. After ducking the flap, he entered the pavilion illuminated by a small sphere of burning glass. Its color reminded him of seeing the sun at dusk through livid clouds. What his blind eye saw horrified him beyond words. The sphere was alive, made from the trapped Life magic of a thousand people. Of ten thousand people. Their screams echoed in his mind.

“What have you found, Dujahn?” a woman’s voice asked, her tone soothing and greedy. “Look what you’ve brought me.”

Exeres saw her black hair, like midnight silk. The cowl of her robe was down, showing the most beautiful face he had ever seen. It was truly beautiful to him because there was no hint of aging to it, no depleting Life magic—just as the ageless man he had seen earlier. Her eyes were dark and glossy like a serpent’s.

“You’re not human,” Exeres found himself saying. He didn’t know how he had forced the words past the lump in his throat.

“Not anymore,” she replied, her mouth twisting up into a smile. “Not ever again. Oh, Dujahn, you’ve brought me a rare gift.”

Exeres took a step backwards. “You are not natural,” he said, bringing up his hands. “In the name of the Druid God Dyanichet whom I serve, I rebuke you!” He inhaled as much of the Earth magic as he could and felt his entire body throb with it.

“But I knew Dyanichet,” she replied, moving closer to him. “He’s dead now. So is Achrolese and all the other fools who founded Parath-Anatos. We remain while their dust sleeps. Oh, Dujahn. You have served me well. I have a special reward for you.”

Exeres felt the magic grow taut in him, filling him even more. He couldn’t stop it coming in. He could not release it against her. The pressure swelled in his mind, causing waves of pain.

“Dujahn, I had hoped you would bring me another young man so I could complete the Vocus. You will complete it for me.”

“My lady?”

Knowledge flooded Exeres’ mind like blades. He could not stop himself. He could not think for himself. With an iron grip, he grabbed Dujahn by the back of the neck and the arm and pulled him towards the orb. The force of the Earth magic raging inside him gave him strength beyond storms. Dujahn struggled, his boots scraping against the pavilion floor and he wrestled against Exeres with a look of sheer panic.

“My lady! Wait! I’ve served you! I’ve done everything! My lady! Wait!”

Exeres felt the man’s arm bones snap from the power in his grip.

“It’s almost complete, Dujahn. I only needed one more. A Vocus is a beautiful thing. A rare thing. Not even a Sleepwalker can stand against one. Look what you will become, Dujahn. Look inside the orb.”

Exeres dragged him to the small wooden chest that held a copper base-stand shaped like a dragon’s claw. The orb sent a pulse of magic through the pavilion, and a hungry sigh escaped it like a hiss.

Dujahn stared at the orb, transfixed, his mouth twisting with agony. The magic inside Exeres went black. He crushed Dujahn in his grip, loosing the pent-up wave of Earth magic at the same moment, feeding everything directly into the orb. The man screamed and so did Exeres as he experienced a taste of his memories, his terror and impotence flooding inside the blazing sphere. The body crumbled to dust.

Exeres collapsed to the floor, his chest heaving. He felt filthy, spoiled. His ears rang from the last scream. Sweat soaked his clothes down to the balls of his feet and he felt spasms twitch down his legs.

The orb flared like a red sun and something dark entered the pavilion. Exeres could not raise his eyes to look at it, but he saw it through his blindness. A thing dripping with Life magic, shedding it like hoar frost. It lurked in the corner of the pavilion tent, hissing as it still came together. Different lives swarmed through it.

Exeres heard the woman’s robes rustle and the tiny clack of wood pieces.

Her voice was softness and shadows. “Take this doll. It belongs to a family in Avisahn. Kill them all and any who stand in your way. Then return to me with their memories.”





Chapter VIII