Soulkeeper Page 46

  “So if you’re not here for me or Devin,” he shouted from the other room, “then who are you here for?”

  Adria turned her attention to the pillowed shelf on the other side of the room, and the eavesdropping faery lying on her stomach in its center.

  “Tesmarie,” she called out. “Might you come here a moment?”

  The faery’s wings buzzed to life, and she hovered upward with an expression akin to a child caught with their hand down their trousers.

  “I wasn’t listening, I promise,” she said. “All right, I was listening a little, not on purpose, though! You two talk… really… loud.”

  Her voice drifted off. Adria smiled at her to show she wasn’t upset.

  “Please, I have questions, and I think you may have the answers.”

  “Oooh, is that it?” The faery zipped to the couch in the blink of an eye and delicately sat atop Adria’s knees. “I’d be happy to help! I thought helping was what I’d be doing more of here, honestly, since your brother seemed like he needed lots of it when we first met. Have you heard him talk about what he goes through at night? Giant owls trying to eat him and then there’s the gargoyles, which I still can’t believe but I don’t see your brother as the lying sort, and they’re trying to eat him, too. Not to mention that horrible monster, Janus…”

  “Tesmarie?”

  She cocked her head to one side.

  “Yes?”

  “Might I ask my question?”

  Her wings fluttered a bit.

  “Of course! Didn’t I say I’d be happy to help?”

  Something loud and metallic banged from inside the kitchen.

  “Goddesses above, this cork is tighter than Lyra’s…” Tommy paused, and Adria could clearly envision the young man’s panicked realization that she was in the adjacent room. “Lyra’s, uh, nothing, nothing’s tighter than this cork.” Then, lower, mumbling as if she somehow wouldn’t hear, “Gonna burn this wart-licking cork to ash with a fireball if it don’t come loose, ‘reckless use of magic’ be damned.”

  Adria stifled a laugh. How in all the Cradle did her brother stay sane with friends like these?

  “I was wondering if you could tell me about the void-dragons?” Adria asked Tesmarie.

  “Void-dragons?” Tesmarie crinkled her adorably tiny nose. “I don’t know any ‘void’-dragons, just the five Dragons of Creation.”

  Excitement spiked in Adria’s chest.

  “The Dragons of Creation?” she prodded.

  “Oh, you surely must be joking,” Tesmarie said. “You don’t even know them? Chyron, Viciss, Gloam… any of these names ringing a bell?”

  “Hey, I know those!” Tommy shouted from the kitchen. A loud pop interrupted him, followed by the sound of liquid splashing across the floor. “Oh, come on, now it goes?”

  Tommy returned to the living room holding the open wine bottle and with a massive red stain across his shirt and bed robe.

  “What are we talking about?” he asked. “Sorry, I was preoccupied for a bit, but it sounds like you’ve finally taken some interest in the schools of magic?”

  Adria felt as if a multitude of tumblers in one giant lock were finally sliding into place inside her head.

  “One at a time,” she said, holding a finger up at Tommy. “Tesmarie, you were saying?”

  “The Dragons of Creation! Chyron, Viciss, Gloam, Aethos, and Nihil. They’re the ones who made, well…” Tesmarie shrugged her shoulders. “People like me. The dragon-sired. Chyron crafted us onyx faeries, for example. As for Puffy, I think it was Aethos, right?”

  One smoke circle fluttered up from the fire, its symbol for yes. Adria had forgotten the firekin was even there, but it too offered corroboration. So if Thaddeus was correct…

  “What of the crawling mountain at our city gates?” Adria asked. “Is it the dragon Viciss?”

  Tesmarie tucked her arms behind her back and hesitated.

  “Well… I’ve never actually seen the others before. Chyron’s the only one I’ve met, and he was super sweet. Didn’t look much like a dragon, though, but a faery like me, perhaps a few inches taller. The mountain could be Viciss, I guess, but it could also be one of the others. Has anyone tried asking?”

  A few brazen men had shouted to the mountain not long after it arrived. They’d received no response, not even a trickle of black water. For the most part the rest of Londheim had tried to move on with their lives while quietly praying that the mountain remained dormant. Adria told the faery so, earning herself a confused shrug.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” she said.

  “You’ve been beyond helpful,” Tommy said, and it looked like he was as excited as Adria. “This not only confirms my schools theory but offers an explanation for their existence! Oh, Malik is going to be so jealous of my discovery.”

  Adria stood and took the bottle from Tommy so she could down a large swig.

  “Not yet,” she said when Tommy reached to take it back. “First you explain what you mean by schools of magic.”

  “Fine. Of the spells Malik and I have managed to re-create, they’ve all belonged to one of five categories, or as some of the older books call them, schools of magic. Aethos is destructive elements, lightning and fire, for example. Chyron clearly represents time. Gloam is something akin to thoughts and reason. Viciss involves transition and change. Of the five, the strangest is Nihil. That school eludes Malik and me, though our best guess is a sort of controlled chaos or discord. If these schools also represent dragons, then Nihil would be the one I want to meet the least.”

  Adria filed the information away in her mind. She bit down on her lip, more tumblers clicking.

  “Tesmarie, Devin said you could slow and speed up time,” she said. “And Chyron, the Dragon of Time, is your creator?”

  The faery bobbed her head up and down.

  “He sure is, and he gifted us with his blessings. That’s how I do… well, what I do.”

  “So the dragons represent concepts,” Adria theorized. “Your spells draw power from it, and their creations share gifts in a similar vein, such as Tesmarie’s innate time manipulation granted to her by Chyron, the Dragon of Time.”

  Tommy finally snatched the bottle from her hand.

  “If you were to put a dagger to my neck and force an answer, I’d say you have the gist of it,” he said. “I’m personally a fan of this theory. It makes my spellcasting seem all the more badass. I’m not just casting spells, I’m harnessing the power of the dragons!”

  He shook a shaking fist to the heavens for emphasis.

  “Boom your voice all you want,” Tesmarie said. “You still look like a drunken jester who just rolled out of bed.”

  Tommy hoisted the bottle.

  “I’m not drunk yet,” he said. “But I’m barreling headfirst toward that happy destination. Care to join me, Tes? I’m sure I could spare you a few drops.”

  Adria pulled her mask out from her pocket and slid it back over her face.

  “You two enjoy yourselves,” she said. “I must speak with my Vikar. This illuminates so much.”

  She waved to the both of them and then hurried out the door.

  “Hey, Puffy,” she heard Tommy call out from the other side. “Does burning alcohol do anything for you like drinking it does to us?”

  Prudence dictated that she chastise Tommy for thinking an intoxicated embodiment of fire was a good idea. Adria was too excited to bother. She had confirmation of not only the void-dragon’s existence but a number of names, magical concepts attached, and even a more formal title as the Dragons of Creation. No doubt the emergence of magical creatures was tied to Viciss’s reemergence, and with all this they could focus their investigation on the various lore books and apocrypha.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed the elderly woman limping after her.

  “Keeper?” she asked. “Keeper Adria?”

  She turned, then choked down a groan. Goddesses help her, it was the old woman w
ho lurked at the bottom of her church’s stairs.

  “Yes?” she asked. Dread sank into her chest at the thought of her requesting prayers instead of coppers. Was this what her life would become? Accosted by strangers for healing of every scrape and ache?

  “Just one moment,” the old woman said. She hobbled as fast as her limp allowed. “Please, I need only a moment, and then I’ll never bug you for coppers again.”

  “If you need a blessing of the Sisters, I must apologize, but wait until tomorrow. Today has left me exhausted.”

  “Oh, no, no,” she said. She smiled. Her teeth were whole instead of missing, and they shone a myriad of colors. “The last thing I want from you is a blessing.”

  She lunged with speed far beyond what her meager frame should have allowed. One hand closed across Adria’s mouth, muffling her scream. The other latched about her throat, choking the air from her lungs. Adria pulled at her wrists, but she was so strong they moved not an inch. The woman, suddenly not so old, and not so feminine, lifted her off the ground. Adria’s feet kicked. Her hands flailed. She tried to pray one of her protection devotions, but not a sound escaped her crushed throat.

  “No prayers,” her attacker said. Gray hair deepened, half turning black, the other half green. The crackly old voice was replaced with one deep and masculine. “Just sleep.”

  Adria looked to either side, hoping someone might intervene. The street was empty but for a middle-aged couple frozen in conversation. Frozen most literally, she realized. Their bodies had been turned to colorful ice. Dark spots blotted out her vision. Fire burned inside her lungs. The last words she heard before losing consciousness were a frustrated lament.

  “Consider yourself blessed Viciss wants you alive.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Snow blew inside with the cold wind when Devin pulled the door open to his home.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked, surprised to find two full-fledged Mindkeepers shivering on his front step. He’d expected novices.

  “Pardon the intrusion at such a late hour, Soulkeeper,” said the older of the two. “But by chance is your sister here?”

  “No, she’s not,” Devin said. “What brings you here?”

  “A matter of some urgency,” said the other, an eager woman half his age. “A person of great importance to the church is in need of her prayers, but we cannot find her at the Soft Voice, nor at her room in Low Dock.”

  The first twinges of worry tugged at Devin’s chest. Not for the person of great importance; he knew that was code for a wealthy donor. It wasn’t like his sister to just disappear. He glanced over his shoulder at Tommy, who was reclining in the chair beside Puffy’s fire. His brother-in-law was nursing a rather brutal headache with a tiny shard of ice pressed against his forehead.

  “Do you know where Adria might be?” he asked.

  “She left just as we were getting started,” Tommy said, we meaning him and the completely unconscious faery snoring atop his shoulder. “She said she had to meet with her Vikar.”

  The older Mindkeeper overheard and shook his head.

  “Vikar Thaddeus has not seen Adria since she left the Grand Archive this morning. Is there perhaps somewhere she’d have stopped along the way? Time is of the essence, and I cannot stress how important it is we…”

  “You’re right,” Devin interrupted. “Time is of the essence, so please inform whoever it is you’re begging for that they need to wait while I look for her. Assuming she’s fine, maybe she will visit them with her healing prayers… or maybe they’ll wait in line like everyone else. Understood?”

  Neither Mindkeeper looked pleased, but there wasn’t much they could do about it.

  “I suppose,” said the older Mindkeeper. “If you need any assistance, please do not hesitate to contact us. Oh, and when you do find Adria, please tell her to come immediately to—”

  Devin slammed the door in their faces and turned to Tommy.

  “Adria vanished on her way to speak with her Vikar,” Devin said. He removed his heavy coat from its peg and slid it over his shoulders. “That’s not like her. We need to go look.”

  Tommy pushed himself up from the chair, which sent Tesmarie sliding off to a graceless landing on her rump. She startled awake and streaked back into the air with a buzzing of her wings. Tommy appeared not to notice her plight in the slightest.

  “I’ll join you,” he offered. “But where do we start looking? Surely she’s fine, right? Maybe holed up in some nook of the Grand Archive and fell asleep…”

  “Look for who?” Tesmarie asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

  Devin buckled his sword belt about his waist, then holstered his pistol.

  “My sister,” he said. “She vanished somewhere between here and Church District. We have to make sure she’s all right.”

  “Oh. Oh! I can help with that.”

  “You can?” he asked.

  “Sure I can!” she said. She buzzed over to the door and hovered in front of his face. “If I concentrate really hard, I can, um… how to put this… I can see times other than the ‘now’ time, as if they’re happening all around me. Once I do, I’ll follow her past self to wherever it is she’s at now.”

  “Are you sure it’ll work?” Devin asked. He couldn’t shake a nagging worry that something was deeply wrong. The knowledge that there was a madman named Janus hunting down members of the Keeping Church only worsened his anxious nerves.

  “It’s how I followed you to Londheim and figured out where you lived,” Tesmarie said. “So long as I’m not looking too far into the past it should be easy.”

  “Then I graciously accept your help,” Devin said. He glanced to Tommy. “The weather’s cold. I’ve spare shirts and sweaters in my closet. Get dressed in something warmer.”

  Devin went to Jacaranda’s door and gently knocked while his brother-in-law added some layers against the biting wind.

  “Come in,” she said softly from the other side.

  Devin pushed the door open and entered Jacaranda’s candlelit room. She lay on her bed reading a book that she’d convinced Tommy to buy for her at the market. Ever since Marigold’s death she’d remained quietly inside her room, and Devin had done his best to give her the time alone she needed. Jacaranda looked up when he entered, her fingers marking her place on the page. Her expression revealed nothing.

  “Adria’s missing,” he said. “We’re going to look for her.”

  He wasn’t sure if Jacaranda would join them after their terrible night, and it wasn’t like she had any real connection with his sister. She surprised him by shutting her book and reaching for her daggers from where they lay atop her bedside table.

  “I’ll be just a moment,” she said.

  The four gathered at the front of Devin’s home. Fog settled over the street, obscuring the thin layer of snow building atop the cobbles.

  “Be real quiet while I do this,” Tesmarie instructed. She hovered in place with her back to the door and her eyes closed. “Oh, and I might sound a little funny when I talk. Time about me is about to get real loosey-goosey.”

  Devin kicked his legs and crossed his arms to keep warm. It seemed late autumn’s bite had come on strong, ushered in by the light snowfall. Tesmarie didn’t seem too bothered by the cold, for she wore the same dress she always wore, which left much of her arms and legs exposed. He couldn’t help but be a little envious.

  The faery whispered words he could barely hear. Her hands lifted, her fingers curling into different contorted shapes. Pink light shimmered around her body, then receded into her dark skin. Only her eyes seemed to maintain a bit of that gleam when she opened them. A smile lit her worried face.

  “There she is,” she said. Her words slurred, spoken as if her entire body moved through molasses. “Follow me.”

  She more drifted than flew forward, yet gravity’s pull seemed just as incapable of touching her as when her wings fluttered at a thousand miles an hour. Devin pulled his hat lower over his face to keep t
he snow from his eyes and then followed, the rest falling into line. This was the street leading to his home, yet with the fog, snow, and cold it seemed alien to him. He felt certain that eyes watched him, as certain as when he walked through the forest outside Dunwerth.

  It wasn’t long before Tesmarie came to a sudden halt. Her hands crossed over her mouth, and she cried out as if in pain. The noise only confirmed the dread that had been growing in Devin’s gut since hearing of Adria’s disappearance.

  “What is it, Tes?” he asked.

  Tesmarie didn’t answer immediately. She shook her head side to side, muttering the word no repeatedly. Devin put his fingers a few inches away from her face and snapped them twice in rapid succession. It seemed to work, for she turned his way and spoke with a calm seriousness he’d never heard in her voice before.

  “He took her,” she said. “Janus. He took her.”

  Images of the Mindkeeper half-melded into the southern market wall flashed unbidden through his mind.

  “Is she still alive?” he asked.

  The faery weakly nodded.

  “I think so.”

  There was that, at least. Devin loaded his pistol with flamestone and lead shot. If that monster had his sister, then there was no way tonight was ending without a battle. He gestured to Tesmarie, who, after a shudder, resumed her gazing into the past.

  “He’s carrying her,” Tesmarie said as she led them down one road and to another. Her voice resumed its slow, plodding sensation. “Talking to her, but I don’t think she’s awake to listen.”

  “Saying what?”

  “It doesn’t work like that. I only see, not hear.”

  Devin knew the faery capable of far greater speed of flight and wished he could somehow urge her on faster. Each passing second felt interminably long. His fingers twitched against the grip of his pistol. The cold wind seeped through every crack in his coat and stole away the warmth from his skin. For the first time in his life he hated Londheim: its crowded architecture, its cobbled roads, its constant stink of fish and water.