Soul of the Blade Page 15

  Raeb came to stand with Dragana and Saydee, both of whom were crying. “Thank you for coming,” he said. He looked down at the Bok’Tarong in Dragana’s hand, including Aeo in his thanks.

  The assassin had never felt so honored. That brief look made Aeo feel, albeit just for a moment, like a man again.

  “Mara has agreed to give all of Matow’s research to me,” Raeb continued. “We can begin studying it as soon as we’d like.”

  “Matow was your researcher?” Saydee asked.

  Raeb nodded. “I’d hoped to be able to work with him directly, but his notes will have to do.”

  Aeo had never seen so many notes in his life. The study where Matow had worked was full of parchments. They were stacked on every surface, some were stuck to the walls, and others were strewn about the floor. The room was already small, but this much clutter made it feel claustrophobic.

  When Raeb had said they would need to rely on Matow’s notes, Aeo had thought they’d never find a clue to help them. Now, he was worried they’d never be able to find the clues they needed amongst all the other meaningless scribbles.

  Raeb spent days hunched over the parchments, leafing through them with growing interest. Dragana and Saydee tried to help, and Aeo would have, too, but Raeb shooed them away more often than not. They ended up spending much of their time with Mara and a few other -taken, growing ever more relaxed in the small home, while they waited for Raeb to find something.

  Tea had just been poured one morning when Raeb bowled into Mara’s home, a stack of parchments in his arms, knocking over a small table and interrupting their mindless chatter. Aeo hardly recognized him—his face glowing with excitement, more full of emotion than Aeo had ever seen him.

  “The baenlo plant,” he said, his voice breathless with excitement. “We can use the baenlo plant!”

  He looked at them expectantly, waiting to see the same excitement on their faces. All Aeo saw were a few very startled, very confused expressions.

  “Raeb,” Saydee said, “that’s poison.”

  He dumped his load of parchments onto the table, spilling tea on some and sending others skittering across the surface or onto the floor. Raeb didn’t stop to clean them up. “The distillation process makes a potent poison,” he agreed, “but a small dose of the pure poison doesn’t kill. A few leaves would put someone into a deep sleep, one that simulates death, but they would wake in a few days.”

  Dragana picked up her overturned teacup, glancing sadly at its emptiness. “How does that help us?”

  Raeb shuffled through the parchments, pulling out one with an abundance of scribbling on it. Two different hands had written those notes—Raeb must have expanded on Matow’s original thoughts. “We need Saydee to remain calm and stable as we travel along her connection. Errant thoughts could weaken the link, or her emotions could rouse the Entana in her mind. If either of those happen while our spirits are en route, none of us will return.”

  “No pressure,” Saydee whispered.

  Heavy silence fell over the group at the grim thought, but Raeb kept barreling along with his explanation. “We’ll give Saydee a small dose of baenlo leaves, so her thoughts can’t interrupt the flow of the bridge. That’ll give us a measure of safety and stability on the journey.”

  “But the connection still isn’t strong enough,” Saydee pointed out. “Putting me to sleep won’t help that.”

  “No,” Raeb agreed, pulling out another almost illegible parchment. “But this will.”

  He placed the parchment in front of Dragana. If he was presenting a priceless jewel before the most powerful emperor, he couldn’t have done it with more pride or ceremony.

  Aeo and Dragana peered at the parchment, Saydee and Mara rising to look over her shoulder. Try as he might, Aeo couldn’t make sense of the lines and arrows and scribbles. “What does this mean?” Dragana asked.

  Raeb’s shoulders sagged and he hung his head for a moment. Then he pointed at a word. “The Bok’Tarong.” His finger traced an arrow to another word. “Sunray.” Then another arrow. “Saydee.”

  When they didn’t respond, Raeb sighed and explained further, working his way backwards along the path he’d just traced. “Saydee needs more magic to strengthen her connection to the Entana. Sunray can absorb magic. The Bok’Tarong has a very powerful enchantment on it. While Saydee sleeps, I use my blade to siphon some magic from the Bok’Tarong into Saydee. That will increase her powers and hopefully make her connection to the Entana hive strong enough for us to travel along it. Instead of crawling to the hive along a spiderweb, it’ll be like using a bowstring.”

  “How comforting,” Dragana said. “That isn’t much support.”

  Have you ever tried to break a bowstring? There’s a reason they can fling arrows so fast.

  “Raeb,” Mara said, “are you certain you want to use that blade’s magic?”

  The gravity in Mara’s voice silenced the table. She didn’t simply disapprove of Raeb’s plan, she was terrified by the very thought. All eyes turned from her to Raeb.

  His excitement vanished, like water down a drain. He met their gazes for a heartbeat, but that was all. After that he refused to look any of them in the eye again.

  Suspicion was clear in Dragana’s voice. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Sunray … might not cooperate,” he stammered. “The blades won’t have a problem siphoning the Bok’Tarong’s magic. But I’ll have to make sure they don’t take too much, and that they give it up instead of consuming it. Sunray doesn’t like to ration itself, and it won’t be eager to return the magic it’s taken.”

  “You make it sound like Sunray has a mind of its own,” Saydee said.

  He didn’t reply, but the look on his face answered her more clearly than any words could have.

  “You’re asking me to trust the Bok’Tarong’s magic to a greedy, sentient blade?” Dragana asked. Aeo choked as her grip on his hilt became a death-hold.

  “No. I’m asking you to trust me that I won’t let Sunray absorb the Bok’Tarong’s magic.” He raised his eyes to hers, and they stared at each other for a moment.

  “I don’t like it.”

  Raeb shrugged. “It’s the best I can do.”

  Aeo mulled over the details. It was a complicated and dangerous plan, to say the least. If they used too many baenlo leaves, Saydee might never awaken. If the connection wasn’t strong enough and failed during their journey, their spirits would be lost in oblivion, unable to return to their bodies. And if Sunray pulled too much magic from the Bok’Tarong … Aeo didn’t even want to explore that option.

  But how else would they get to the Entana hive? Raeb’s plan might be complex, but it seemed sound. Plus, it was their only one.

  I think we should go with it. It’s dangerous, but it sounds like it’ll work.

  Dragana bit her lip as she thought. It sounds like a complicated way to walk into certain death.

  But it also sounds like we don’t have any choice, Aeo added.

  Dragana nodded, running the details over in her mind. I just wish there was another option.

  Don’t we all. They paused for a moment. If we don’t go with this plan, we’re no closer to getting to the Entana hive.

  She didn’t like Aeo’s statement, he knew, but it was because she didn’t want it to be the truth. She shifted her focus to their companions. “Let’s do it,” she said, resigned.

  Raeb looked to Saydee. The girl nodded nervously.

  “It won’t take long to prepare. We should get some rest before we do this,” Raeb said.

  It was Dragana’s turn to nod. “I agree. I would like to spend some time meditating.” She looked at Saydee, then at Raeb. “You would be welcome to join me.”

  Aeo was as surprised by her invitation as Raeb seemed. The Taronese ways were sacred to Dragana, and to share them, especially with the “traitor” Raeb, was astonishing. He poked around her mind and found the warm spark of affection beginning to form.

  He smirked bu
t didn’t comment. He didn’t want to spoil her newfound feelings toward him, Raeb, and Saydee with petty teasing.

  17

  Morning dawned, and their time arrived. Mara’s small home was bursting with nervousness, anticipation, and fear.

  Saydee lay on the floor, already deep in the baenlo-induced sleep. The creases that had furrowed her brow earlier were eased. Looking down at her, Raeb couldn’t shake the image of how she’d stared at the baenlo leaves in her shaking hand, a single tear refusing to fall from her eye. She’d fed herself the poison without a word of complaint. It was braver than anything Raeb had ever seen.

  He sat next to her now, Sunray in his left hand, his right on Saydee’s shoulder. Dragana was on his other side, holding the Bok’Tarong in her left hand and her right wrapped around Raeb’s fist. The elements of the ritual to pull their spirits from their bodies were arrayed around them, filling the air with the scent of smoke and earthy herbs.

  Raeb and Dragana nodded to each other. Ready.

  Raeb drew in a deep, cleansing breath and tapped into Sunray’s magic. The blade responded eagerly, its hunger filling Raeb’s mind and drowning his thoughts. Motes of icy magic floated in the air, glittering like frost. His breath crystallized as the temperature plummeted.

  The motes scattered, searching out other sources of magic and clinging to them, bringing the invisible forces into view. Some settled on Dragana’s armband and the Bok’Tarong. Others outlined the Entana tendrils in the -takens’ heads. Throughout the rest of the room wispy shapes appeared at random, though they were small and indistinct. The magic that held the world together.

  Raeb focused on the motes, feeling the magic they illuminated. He could take any of it and feed it to Sunray. The blade was hungry—Raeb felt its desire as if it was his own. He craved the sweet magic.

  He pulled his thoughts away from Sunray’s hunger. Dwelling on it would make the temptation worse. He knew this. But still, restraining himself—and the blade—took an astounding amount of willpower.

  He ignored the delicious magic tickling his skin and reached out for the Bok’Tarong’s magic. It was immensely powerful, even more so than he’d expected. He’d thought he’d known how strong the Bok’Tarong’s magic was, and how much of a feast it would be to Sunray, but this was far beyond anything he’d ever dreamed.

  It would be so easy to take that magic. Nothing could stop him. What a relief it would be, to be free from the constant running. It would feel so good to absorb that magic, unravel the enchantment, and be done with it all. So good …

  Raeb bit his tongue, hard, to bring his mind back to himself. That wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’d never wanted to do it. Destroy the Bok’Tarong, and the Entana would remain. That was unacceptable.

  Destroy the Entana. That was the mission.

  Instead of diving into the ocean of the Bok’Tarong’s magic, he dipped in a toe. Just a taste of the power, nothing more. Sunray rejoiced in it, begged for more, but Raeb denied the blade its meal. He pulled the magic from Sunray’s greedy appetite and channeled it into Saydee. The trickle of power rushing through him was intoxicating, empowering, maddening. He longed to feast on it. He wanted it. He needed it. To be so close, but unable to savor it. It was almost too much to bear.

  He bit his tongue again and tasted blood. Sunray’s lust for the magic he pumped through it was impossible to ignore. He did his best anyway, turning his eyes to Saydee’s Entana connections. Just as he’d hoped, the tiny thread that made her unique was thickening by the second. Sunray’s icy motes gravitated toward it as it grew. In a few more seconds, the connection would be strong enough for him to test.

  Raeb heard a strange, distant sound. He thought he recognized it, but it seemed so far away.

  Sweet, delicious magic. What a feast, at last. Finally getting the magic I hunger for.

  Raeb started. The thoughts weren’t his. They were Sunray’s. He wasn’t devouring magic. The blades were.

  The blades were!

  Raeb recognized the sound. It was a scream. Dragana’s scream. She held the Bok’Tarong so tightly her joints were bone white and her hands shook with the effort. Her face was contorted with agony unlike Raeb had ever seen.

  The motes surrounding the Bok’Tarong pulsed with power as they gorged on the sword’s magic.

  Raeb shouted something, he didn’t know what, and flung the sunburst blades from him. They hit the wall and clattered to the ground. The icy motes flickered out of existence.

  The room was quiet. Dragana had fainted, still holding the Bok’Tarong. Saydee was as still as death, only the too-slow rising and falling of her chest showing she lived. Mara watched him from the corner with horror in her Entana eyes.

  Raeb put his elbows on his knees and slumped, laying his head in trembling hands. His head pounded, his body ached, his stomach churned with acid. He breathed deliberately, trying to compose himself. He could still hear Dragana’s screams in his mind, still feel Sunray’s elation in its dark feast. At least, he hoped it was Sunray’s elation. If those had been his own feelings, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

  He placed a hand on Saydee’s shoulder. The magic shouldn’t have harmed her. But then again, Sunray shouldn’t have rebelled, and he shouldn’t have lost control. He could only hope her part of this disastrous plan would work as it was supposed to.

  Raeb turned his head to Dragana. She lay next to him, unconscious. Sweat was drying on her face and pooling in the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. She hadn’t had those when they’d begun.

  Finally, his eyes traveled to the Bok’Tarong. He wouldn’t know how much damage he’d done to the spirit blades until Dragana awoke. He prayed he hadn’t caused any permanent harm. If he had, their plan to destroy the Entana was ruined forever. The Entana would have won, and Raeb’s worst nightmare will have come true.

  Raeb shook from head to toe, nausea rising in his throat. His companions were comatose, possibly dead. Their plan had failed, and it was all his fault.

  Dragana groaned. She didn’t want to wake up. Pain was waiting for her out there, and she wasn’t ready to face that yet. Still, consciousness called to her. The soft blackness of oblivion grew lighter, harsher, and she woke.

  It was early, not even an hour after sunrise. The bed was soft beneath her, but this morning it made her ache. She’d slept on rocks that hurt her head less than the fluffy pillow she rested on. Last night the handmade quilts had felt heavenly. Today they were heavy and oppressive. She tried to kick them off, but her muscles were too sore to respond. So she lay there, alone and miserable in her pain.

  Her thoughts were quiet.

  Her hand still gripped the Bok’Tarong. From the stiffness in her fingers, she assumed she’d been holding it ever since the ritual.

  Dragana did her best to remember. Details were murky at best. About the only thing she could remember was pain, and lots of it. Aeo …

  She lifted the Bok’Tarong to her chest. It was slightly less exhausting than lifting a mountain. “I hope you feel better than I do,” she said to the sword.

  Nothing. The blades were silent.

  “Aeo? Are you all right?”

  Still nothing.

  Dragana’s heart raced. What was wrong with Aeo? Had Raeb taken too much of the magic holding Aeo’s spirit to the blades and killed him?

  She was surprised how much that thought distressed her.

  Still holding the Bok’Tarong, she made herself get out of bed. The effort it took was monumental, but somehow she managed it. Using the wall to steady herself, she tottered to the kitchen and the low voices she heard there. At least she’d been given a downstairs bedroom—if she’d had to use the stairs like Saydee did, she’d have killed herself before she’d taken three steps.

  Raeb and Mara sat together at the table, nursing small cups of tea. Both looked about as bad as Dragana felt, with slumped shoulders and dark circles under their exhausted eyes. The morning light stabbed into Dragana’s head and made it hurt even worse.<
br />
  Raeb leapt from his chair when he saw her. He stepped toward her, concern in his eyes, but Dragana wasn’t about to be coddled. She forced him to a stop with a hand to his chest. Her other hand gripped the Bok’Tarong so tightly her entire arm felt the strain.

  “What did you do?” she asked, her teeth clenched.

  Raeb had the decency to look ashamed. His meek expression, almost seeming near tears, calmed her. Her grip eased on Aeo, and she released Raeb’s shirt from her fist. She hadn’t realized she’d grabbed it.

  Mara came up beside her, placing a gentle hand on Dragana’s arm. She guided Dragana to a chair and placed a hot cup of some herbal tisane before her. She didn’t have any energy left to resist—she’d used it all confronting Raeb. He sat across the small table from her, hunched and sullen like a beaten puppy.

  The sweet steam coming from the cup filtered through the air. Her headache eased when she breathed it in.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said, too weary to maintain her anger. Now she felt exhausted, defeated, and terrified for Aeo. She did her best not to show it, though. Until she knew what had gone wrong, she didn’t want anyone to know something wasn’t right with him.

  Raeb peered at her, searching for something. Some of the worry in his face faded after a moment, but not much. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. What happened?”

  “Sunray rebelled,” Raeb said. “While I was concentrating on transferring the magic, it started to absorb it. The blade got out of control and nearly devoured all of the Bok’Tarong’s enchantment.”

  Dragana’s breath grew ragged. If that damned blade had taken too much of the spirit blades’ magic, that would explain why Aeo was unreachable. But was he still in there at all?

  Raeb seemed to read her worry. “Something’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question.

  Dragana stared into her cup. She would not cry. “How is Saydee?”

  “She’s still asleep, but Mara says she should wake in a few hours.”