Cursed Bones

chapter 11



Alexander rose into the sky until he could see the ship. It was sailing in a circle in the ocean between Ithilian, Fellenden, and Tyr. He returned to his body, confused and disturbed.

“I can say for certain that she’s on a ship in the open ocean due west of here,” Alexander said. “The rest is less clear.”

“How so?” Jack asked.

“The ship is manned by Regency soldiers pretending to be Zuhl’s barbarians,” Alexander said. “Lacy is in the brig. There’s a wraithkin onboard. And the shade is there as well.”

“The shade is on that ship, with the princess and the keystone?” Bragador asked, slightly alarmed.

Alexander nodded, frowning.

“Why hasn’t he taken the keystone?” Jack asked.

“That’s a very good question,” Alexander said. “Maybe it has something to do with the box. Mage Jalal said he couldn’t see the keystone, even though he was able to locate the other two. Maybe the box won’t open for the shade.”

“Mage Gamaliel might know more,” Jack said.

“Probably,” Alexander said. “I’ll see if I can send him a message.”

“For now, its location is sufficient,” Bragador said. “I’ll dispatch Aedan to retrieve Princess Lacy and the keystone at once.”

“Who’s Aedan?” Alexander asked.

“He’s the dark green dragon that met you when you first arrived,” Bragador said. “He’s well suited to the task.”

“Lacy is innocent in all of this,” Alexander said. “Please don’t harm her.”

“Of course,” Bragador said, getting up to leave.

Anja looked at her, then back at Alexander before curling up at the foot of his bed and closing her eyes.

Bragador stopped at the door, frowning slightly at her daughter before she left.

Alexander stared at the ceiling while the frustration of his predicament built in his gut. The world was fighting a war that he was supposed to be leading and he was helpless to act. He’d failed to retrieve the keystone … for the second time. And Isabel had left him. The last remaining shade was aboard the ship with the third and final keystone, his last chance to quickly end the threat of the Nether Gate, and he still didn’t understand the game Phane was playing.

Why send soldiers pretending to serve Zuhl to capture Lacy when he could have just as easily brought her to Karth in chains? Alexander had too many questions and too few answers.

Then there was Siduri. He didn’t know what to make of him, didn’t know if he should believe him … and yet he did. As fantastical as his story was, Alexander believed every word of it, and that scared him even more. He wanted to talk to Jack about the first adept but that would only give rise to questions within the inquisitive mind of his friend, questions that he couldn’t answer.

He needed counsel, so he decided to turn to the only people he could trust to remain absolutely silent about his experience—the sovereigns.

“I’ll be a while,” Alexander said, as he touched the Sovereign Stone.

He briefed the Reishi Council thoroughly, leaving nothing out since he last spoke to them. He told them of the contents of the Wizard’s Den, the trip to Tyr, the addition of the Reishi Protectorate to his ranks, the destruction of Zuhl’s shipyards, the seven ships that managed to escape, the battle with the wraithkin and the pirates, the recovery of the Tyr Thinblade, his wound by wraithkin dagger, Anja, the loss of Mindbender, his uneasy alliance with Bragador, finding the blood of the earth, and his disturbing conversation with Siduri. Finally he told them about Isabel. He saved that information for last, not because it was the most important item on his very long list, but because it was the most painful.

When he finished, he sat back and hung his head, Isabel’s absence once again threatening to overwhelm his composure. He understood why she left, might have done the same if he were in her shoes, but none of that undid the empty feeling it left inside him.

The table was silent for several moments.

“Much has transpired,” Balthazar said.

Alexander nodded.

“Perhaps we should set aside those things about which we have no insight to offer,” Balthazar said.

Alexander nodded again.

“The destruction of Zuhl’s shipyard is a victory,” the First Sovereign said. “His escape with seven ships is a defeat. The recovery of the Tyr Thinblade, your wound, the newfound loyalty of the Reishi Protectorate, and Isabel’s decision to leave require no counsel. That leaves a long list of things we can offer you advice about.”

“May we start with Mindbender?” Constantine asked, sitting forward with interest.

“Sure, but I’m not sure there’s much to discuss,” Alexander said. “In fact, I’d add that to the defeat column.”

“I’m not so certain,” Constantine said.

“Nor am I,” Darius said. “Please describe the destruction of the sword in detail.”

Alexander told them about the battle with the pirate wielding the Thinblade, how he’d been distracted by the crossbow bolt to the shoulder at just the wrong moment, how the ancient, sentient sword had been cleaved in two, and finally, about the lights that played across the cavern walls before seemingly soaking into him.

“You say the light expanded to fill the cavern?” Dominic asked.

“And then collapsed into you?” Constantine added.

“That’s the way I remember it,” Alexander said.

They looked at each other.

“If I might,” Balthazar said. “A phrase from your conversation with Siduri caught my attention. He said ‘a link with source requires a place to reside.’ Is that correct?”

“I believe so,” Alexander said. “What are you getting at?”

Balthazar looked to his son Dominic, who nodded. Then to Constantine, who nodded as well.

“It may be that the magic of Mindbender, or more precisely, Benesh Reishi’s link with the firmament, now resides within you,” Balthazar said.

“How can that be?” Alexander asked.

“The ways of magic are not always clear,” Balthazar said. “We’re still not certain on the specifics of how Benesh created the sword in the first place.”

“One of the books we found in his tomb detailed a process for transferring a wizard’s link with the firmament to an item,” Alexander said. “The wizards said they thought an arch mage could be stripped of his link, which could then be used to create an item capable of allowing its wielder to command the firmament with the same level of power as the wizard who gave it his power.”

“If that’s how he created Mindbender, it explains why he died,” Constantine said. “Without his link, the aging process would have overtaken him relatively quickly.”

“It may also explain how the link transferred to Alexander,” Dominic said. “Under normal circumstances, a link with the firmament is bound to a specific wizard or witch. In order to transfer his link to the sword, Benesh would have had to ensure that the link didn’t dissipate the moment it was separated from him. He would have had to harden it, if you will, in order to protect it long enough to become one with the sword. How he accomplished such a thing is beyond my understanding, but it seems from your description that the link contained within the sword sought out a suitable place to reside once the sword could no longer contain it.”

“So what do I do?” Alexander asked.

“Guard that book carefully,” Balthazar said. “Its potential is difficult to ascertain, but Phane or Zuhl could probably find ways to use it.”

“It’s in the care of the Guild Mage,” Alexander said, “He’s studying it to see if we could make use of it. But getting back to Mindbender. Do you really think I have the sword’s powers?”

“Probably not exactly,” Constantine said. “While our understanding of the adept wizard is limited, we do know that you developed specific capabilities after surviving the mana fast. You may manifest the same talents the sword gave you or you may develop completely new capabilities, provided our speculation is accurate.”

“The only way to know for certain is to experiment,” Balthazar said. “I recommend you proceed with caution and deliberate care. This is uncharted territory.”

“That certainly gives me something to think about,” Alexander said.

“Be aware of anything different about your magic,” Balthazar said. “Pay careful attention to the details of anything you experience differently than before.”

Alexander cocked his head to the side and frowned, suddenly realizing that things had been slightly different with his magic.

“I used my clairvoyance before coming to consult you,” he said. “The firmament felt somehow more familiar. I can’t really explain it, but I felt more at home, more at ease. Also, my all around sight is sharper.”

“Given your wound, you will have plenty of time to experiment,” Balthazar said. “I recommend you spend some time every day using your clairvoyance. Attempt to use it in ways you haven’t before. Look at the very small and the very large, explore the inner workings of the substance around you at the smallest level you can, see the entire Seven Isles as a whole, look within yourself and attempt to penetrate the realm of light. Stretch out with your mind and see what you find.”

“I will,” Alexander said. “I already have a lot to do on that score. There are a number of conflicts brewing that will flare as soon as spring comes. I want to provide my people with all the information I can before the fighting starts.”

He stopped, staring at the table for a moment.

“This may be nothing, but twice now I’ve felt a knowing sensation prior to Bragador’s arrival. It’s not like the precognitive experiences I’ve had in the past, but more like a subtle awareness of the moments to come.”

“Take note of any more such experiences you have,” Balthazar said. “Study each one in detail, look for commonalities. Above all, determine how accurate your predictive abilities are. Such a power is formidable beyond words, provided it’s reliable and accurate. Otherwise, it could very easily lead to your doom.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Alexander said.

“Perhaps we should spend some time discussing the dragons,” Demetrius said.

“I concur,” Balthazar said. “You said that a dragon was born near you, that you were the first person she saw when she emerged from her egg.”

“Yes,” Alexander said.

“Dragon mothers are very careful with their eggs,” Balthazar said. “The first being a dragon sees will be imprinted on the beast for its whole life. This young dragon will have loyalty to you above all others. Her mother is aware of this, and no doubt, unhappy about it. Take great care, Alexander. Dragons are fiercely protective of their own, especially their young.”

“I had no idea,” Alexander said. “Anja spends all of her time nearby, but I just thought she was young and curious. What should I do?”

“Encourage her to follow her mother’s guidance,” Balthazar said. “Bragador knows better than any what Anja needs. Tread lightly, offer friendship but encourage her to assimilate into her own community. As for Bragador, take her counsel seriously and don’t make any promises that you aren’t willing to keep. Dragons have long memories and will always collect on debts owed.”

“That leaves Siduri and the blood of the earth,” Constantine said.

“Indeed,” Balthazar said. He fixed Alexander with a very direct look before proceeding. “I am inclined to recommend that you refrain from using the blood of the earth.”

The other sovereigns nodded in agreement, save Malachi, who started laughing.

Alexander ignored him. “How will I save Isabel without the potion?”

“I don’t know,” Balthazar said, “but the warning given by Siduri and the manner in which he appeared and disappeared cannot be taken lightly. Had I been aware of his existence, I would have reached out to him. That he never chose to contact me or any of the other sovereigns, yet chose to warn you in this matter, is of great significance.”

“He’s clearly a being of transcendent power,” Constantine said. “The very idea of residing within the firmament for millennia is difficult to grasp, but the ability to manifest physically at the location of his choice and then melt back into the firmament is profound in the extreme. He may be the single most powerful creature alive in the world today. His guidance should be given serious consideration.”

“His experience with the darkness is of vital importance as well,” Dominic said. “Firsthand dealings with the Taker are unheard of. No wizard would be foolish enough to attempt such a thing … unless they were driven by abject desperation. The result of his bargain is instructive.”

“I have no intention of making a bargain with the Taker,” Alexander said.

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you did,” Dominic said. “I’m referring to the origin of the shades. That they were made by the Taker suggests that they could be unmade by him.”

“But why would he do that?” Alexander asked, intrigued by the possibility.

“The darkness and the light operate according to their own rules,” Balthazar said. “It may be that the fulfillment of Siduri’s bargain could bring the shades to an end.”

“You’re saying that if Siduri died and surrendered to the Taker, the shades would be unmade?”

“I’m speculating,” Balthazar said.

“How can I confirm your speculation?” Alexander asked, sitting forward.

The table fell silent until Malachi started laughing again.

“What do you know that could help me end the shades forever?” Alexander demanded.

Malachi shrugged. “Only speculations.”

“Where can I confirm these speculations?”

“You could go ask the Taker, he might tell you the truth,” Malachi said, laughing softly.

“Or you could ask the light,” Demetrius said. “A creature such as Selaphiel might know.”

“But how?” Alexander said. “I suppose I could ask Chloe, but I doubt she would know. And even if I could confirm your theory, how would I convince Siduri to subject himself to that?”

“You said he was distraught over what had been done to his children,” Balthazar said. “Perhaps he would view it as saving them from a fate worse than death.”

“If he believed me,” Alexander said, “but how could the light ever accept the shades’ souls after what they’ve done?”

“The light is forgiveness,” Demetrius said, looking at Malachi sadly, “provided that your repentance is real. If Siduri’s account is correct, the shades were children when the Taker touched them. As such, they are innocent and worthy of redemption.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Alexander said. “I’m not even sure how I would tell Siduri, if I could confirm everything you’ve suggested.”

“I would start in the firmament,” Constantine said. “If he truly resides there, he will be aware of your presence. Perhaps you can communicate with him.”

“Or maybe he’s just a projection sent by Phane to toy with you,” Malachi said.

“Silence,” Alexander shot back, even as doubt crept into his thoughts. He needed the potion to save Isabel. What if Siduri was an illusion, a deception wielded by Phane to prevent him from saving her?

The Sixth Sovereign sat back, looking smug.

Alexander stood, glaring at Malachi.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said. “I’ll pursue confirmation of your speculations and seek out Siduri.”