William King: Shadowblood

Sardec did not miss the look of complicity that passed between the two of them. He was certain that there was unease there as well. Did they fear a charge of miscegenation? It has been a long time since one had been brought against a Terrarch but the law was still on the statutes. Sardec thought about Rena and suppressed a shudder. He had as much to fear from such an allegation as Asea, quite possibly more.

“He was asking about us?” Rik inquired. His accent still held traces of the guttersnipe he had once been. It would take a long time for Asea to polish that out of him. Were they really lovers, as everyone suspected? It was the easiest explanation of why they had spent so much time together but Sardec suspected something else, that she was teaching the half-breed sorcery, which might cost him his life if the Inquisition found out. They were not at all keen on humans learning magic. It was a known fact that those who did practise the Art fell all too easily to the Shadow.

“About you very specifically. I think he has come here to look into Queen Kathea’s death, and I would not be surprised if he bears a Royal Warrant.”

“He would be a fool if he came with anything less,” said Asea. “And that is one thing Joran is not.”

“You know him?”

“He and I have had dealings in the past. He is a Terrarch of some subtlety. By nature he sees plots everywhere. The Inquisition is a natural home for his sort.”

“These days, Milady, he may be right. Queen Kathea is dead after all. Our situation here in Kharadrea grows daily more precarious. With my own eyes I have witnessed Terrarchs of the ancient nobility working the darkest of sorcery.”

“I fear, Lieutenant, that you will witness much more of that before the end of this affair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ancient evils stir in the East. Lord Malkior and Jaderac were not the only dark sorcerers to come out of those lands. The plague winds that have blown all winter are no accident. I have seen sorcery like this before, on Al’Terra, used by the followers of the Princes of Shadow.”

“You think someone has rediscovered that ancient magic?”

“Or someone has been taught it.”

“By the Shadow? Terrarchs? Here?”

Asea nodded.

“And what motive would they have?”

“Why have people always served the Princes of Shadow? Power, revenge, ambition. I saw a whole world fall once. Only ten thousand of us escaped.”

“And you think some agents of the Shadow came with us.”

“I am certain of it.”

“If you are right something must be done.”

“I have already written to Queen Arielle informing her of this. I believe we should march East.”

“That would be suicide,” said Sardec. “We do not have the manpower for an invasion of the Dark Empire now. It would take months to assemble such an army and we would have to strip our Western borders.”

Another one struck Sardec. “Do you think the High Inquisitor’s presence has anything to do with this?”

“Doubtless we will find out in due course.”

Sardec looked at Rik once again. His face was pale and his lips moved silently as if he were trying to form words in a language not meant for human tongues. Was he sick or going mad? Sardec had heard that this happened often to human sorcerers. He had been this way since they escaped from Harven. One thing seemed certain — it would be best if Asea kept him away from the Inquisitor.

“Are you all right?” Sardec asked. Rik’s eyes seemed to be focused in the middle distance. He gave the impression that his mind was not there at all. A moment later intelligence and sanity returned.

“I am fine,” he said. “I have been unwell but I am getting better now.”

“You should be more careful of your health, for all our sakes.” Sardec hoped that the two of them picked up on his meaning.

“Will you have something to drink?” Asea asked.

“No,” said Sardec. “I must return to my duties. As always, Milady, a pleasure.”

“This is very poor timing,” Asea said, once Sardec had gone.

Rik nodded. In the depths of his mind, the presences that had been there since he had eaten the soul of the alien Quan gibbered agreement. They had erupted when the Lieutenant had brought the news. Rik hoped that Sardec had not suspected the truth of what was going on. If he did, he would most likely report it to the Inquisition at once, and Rik would hardly have blamed him.

He had, after all, practised the darkest form of magic when he destroyed the vampiric Elder World demon, and he had taken its memories, and all the memories of those creatures whose souls it had devoured into himself. There were times when he felt that what he had done would drive him mad, if it had not already done so.

Asea looked disturbed. “You need to get yourself in hand. I do not think you could meet with the Inquisitor at the moment. He would believe you to be possessed.”

“And you think I am not?”

“I think you are suffering the after-effects of a complex piece of sorcery that was almost beyond your ability and that you are lucky to be alive and with your mind intact.”

Rik could not disagree with that. For a while there, things had improved, but, with the persistence of malarial fever, the attacks of madness returned. His dreams were haunted and sometimes fragments of those dreams broke into his waking hours.

There were times when he found himself remembering the Quan’s underwater home near Harven almost with fondness, when he recalled the strange rituals of the squid-faced aliens with something like understanding, when he found himself reaching out for the flows of magical energy around him with a knowledge he had never gained from his studies with Asea.

Worse were the times when he recalled the lives of the people the Quan had devoured. Sometimes he remembered being a sailor on the cold grey waters of the northern seas. He had flashes of his lungs filling with water as the Quan ate his soul. He woke unsure of whether he was alive. There were moments when he thought he was the one who had been devoured and lived only in the Quan’s dreams.

Sometimes he wished he had never left Sorrow, never met Asea, never become embroiled in the deadly intrigues that surrounded her. He might have been happier if he had not attempted to claim his Terrarch birthright and master magic.

He pushed the thoughts aside as worthless. He had made his decision and accepted Asea’s patronage and now he would have to find a way of living with the consequences.

“Rik, pay attention,” said the sorceress. He realised that he had missed a lot of what Asea was saying. “Your life depends on this. Perhaps mine does too.”

“I don’t see why?” he said coldly. “You are of the First. You are kin to the Queen and to General Azaar. I am sure you will find a way to survive.”

Her smile was cold and dazzling and not without a hint of humour. “Your faith is touching, but misplaced. We are at war now, and not just with the Sardeans. The Princes of Shadow reach out for this world, and that means the power of the Inquisition will grow. Soon no one will be beyond its reach. Believe me, I have lived through such times before. Everyone will come under suspicion. Soon we will be our own worst enemies. Such mistrust has always been the Shadow’s greatest weapon.”

Rik knew she spoke the truth about the danger. He was descended from a long line of servants of the Shadow, and that of itself was enough for the Inquisition to put him to the stake. He supposed it would be possible that they might do the same to Asea if they found out she had been sheltering him.

Under the circumstances it might be in her best interests to have him done away with. He had been a useful tool for her, but he might have outlived his usefulness.