Rise of the Blood Masters (Book 5) Read online

  Tallin sighed and gave her a half-smile. “I’m not going that far. Just out to check on the nest, that’s all. I’ll be back in the evening, I promise.” He gave his aunt a quick peck on the cheek and mounted Duskeye’s saddle. “Enjoy your time with Chua.” Minutes later, they were in the sky.

  “Be careful!” she cautioned again while waving goodbye.

  Tallin waved back without turning around. When Mugla could no longer see her nephew’s silhouette on the horizon, she grabbed her cane and went looking for Chua. She walked through the meadow and headed out into the forest, following a worn path through the trees. Mugla walked carefully, using her cane to maneuver down the trail. The trees extended outward in a solid green mass for as far as she could see.

  The morning air was still chilly, and she tightened her shawl around her shoulders. A small creek bubbled nearby, teeming with tiny silver fish called kilscups. Willow trees grew in huddled clusters along the water, their wispy branches brushing against the ground like an old woman’s broom.

  Mugla lifted up her skirts and stepped through the tiny stream, starting up the slope on the other side. She paused to take a deep breath, inhaling the forest air.

  The Elburgian Mountains, their peaks still tipped with snow from the previous winter, rose up in the distance like towering black teeth.

  Despite the beauty of this place, she already missed her home in the mountains. Dwarves made their home in caves, not in the forest. Even though Mugla had traveled far and wide, she still felt a pang of homesickness deep in her gut.

  Squeaky high-pitched chatter sounded around her, and she glanced up to see green-skinned tree sprites playing in the branches. The tiny creatures flew down and swarmed around her for a moment, decided that she was an uninteresting creature, and went back to frolicking in the branches. Mugla pulled one overly curious sprite out of her hair and tossed it squealing back into the trees.

  Distant cousins of the elves, the sprites lived in the trees, eating insects and leaves. The tree sprites were half-faerie, half-nymph, capricious and prankish, just like the elves, but on a smaller scale. There was a large concentration of them in these woods. The sprites were drawn to wild magic, so it wasn’t a surprise that so of them lived in this sacred grove.

  The sprites acted as the natural guardians of the area and had various strange powers. They could open certain portals and they collected magical objects, stealing from mortals whenever they could. Though dangerous in large numbers, the tree sprites knew that Mugla wasn’t a threat, so they left her alone.

  While she walked, Mugla thought about her previous visits to the Elder Willow. She and Chua were old friends, and had known each other more than thirty years. They first met during the Dragon Wars and became good friends.

  Despite his declining health, Chua was the only person Mugla trusted for a foretelling. Chua was a mageborn psychic, and nobody had a stronger gift than him.

  In fact, Chua was the most powerful living seer on the continent. All it took was a scrying bowl and a bit of magic, and he could look into the future or deep into the past. She asked Chua to foretell her future, and he happily obliged. In return, she made him a few hot meals.

  He usually requested a bowl of smashed yams and flat cakes, which she cooked directly over a wood fire while visiting with him. Mugla used to visit Chua every winter and sometimes once again in the spring, but with her growing list of responsibilities, the times when she could come had grown fewer and fewer.

  It was past midday when she finally found him, meditating quietly under an oak tree. A small permanent shrine to the earth goddess was set up nearby. On the shrine, there were several candles, fresh-cut flowers, and a stick of incense. The burning incense filled the air with a sweet aroma.

  She tottered over to him.

  “Who’s there?” Chua’s eyeless face tilted up, and Mugla flinched. He wasn’t wearing his blindfold, which was sitting on the ground near his leg. During the Dragon Wars, Chua and Starclaw had been captured and then tortured mercilessly. Seeing his scarred face uncovered was a glaring reminder of the terrible suffering he had endured.

  Mugla touched his shoulder gently, letting her hand rest there a second before saying, “It’s me. I’m here now. Sorry to interrupt yer prayers.”

  Chua reached for the blindfold and put it over his eyes, tying it off carefully. “Sorry… I forgot to cover my eyes this morning. I don’t usually bother unless I have guests. I know my appearance is frightful.”

  She shook her head. “Nay, nay, it doesn’t bother me,” she lied.

  “Would you like to sit down?” He smiled up at her and offered her a pillow.

  “Aye, thank ye,” she said, taking the cushion from his outstretched hand. She placed it on the ground and plopped down on top of it.

  As the day grew warmer, swarming insects filled the air around them. Starclaw and Chua seemed unbothered by them, but Mugla couldn’t keep herself from swatting at the annoying creatures.

  “Get away, ye little buggers!” It wasn’t just insects, either. The air was filled with the constant chirping of birds, the giggling and rustling of the tree sprites, the rush of the nearby stream. With all the noise, Mugla wondered how he could concentrate enough to meditate here.

  Chua scratched at his forearm. “The night was cool. Did the blankets keep you warm enough?”

  Mugla smiled. “Aye, mostly. I’m used to the cold—the Highport Caverns are downright freezing in the winter, and there’s never enough heating oil to go around.” She paused and looked up at the tree sprites buzzing nearby.

  “Those little green buggers are everywhere, too,” she muttered. “Shoo! Shoo!” she said, swatting at a sprite that was prodding inside her ear.

  Chua chuckled. “Yes, they are. I’ve learned to ignore them... for the most part, anyway.”

  “Mind ye, I’m not complainin'. I love it here. I feel rested. Maybe even a wee bit younger. This place does wonders for my spirit.”

  “That’s wonderful, my dear. You know... I sometimes forget that you’re a dwarf. You haven’t been a young girl for three hundred years, so I’m pleased that this place helps you feel younger.” He smiled and paused, tilting his face up toward the warm sun once more. “Would you like your yearly divination now?”

  Mugla cleared her throat. “Aye. I need your help to solve a... sensitive matter regarding my nephew.”

  Chua’s hands dropped to his lap. “Why don’t you tell me about it? Maybe I can help in some way.”

  So Mugla began. “I’m so worried about Tallin! He’s in danger. A Balborite assassin has attacked him several times. It’s always the same woman. Each time he fights her, Tallin barely escapes with his life. They fought again a fortnight ago. She just showed up at the Highport caverns, without any warning. I have no idea how she found him. If I hadn’t been there, he’d be dead. I was able to stop her, but our escape was a very near thing. I’m afraid she’ll never stop trying to kill my nephew, so I need to find out everything I can about her.”

  Chua nodded. “I understand. I’ll help if I can. But before we begin, I’m curious as to what you know about her already. Do you have any information regarding her past?”

  She looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then said, “Not much, I’m afraid. All I know for sure is that she’s a Balborite assassin. And she’s female, which is pretty rare.”

  “I see,” he said. His expression changed suddenly, and he asked, “Is her face completely tattooed—even her head?”

  Mugla made an excited movement with her hands. “Yes! Her head is shaved, and there are many tattoos on her skull. She’s even got a few on her tongue. I saw them pretty clearly, because she was screaming at me the whole time.”

  Chua’s brows puckered in concentration. “The facial tattoos mean that her training is complete, and that she has taken her final blood oath to the temple. She’s a Blood Master; the highest ranking assassin. The tattoos take years to complete, and the head is always done last. The priests don’t bother giving full-body warding tattoos to lower spellcasters.”

  “Well, that makes sense, I guess. I could tell right away she was powerful, though her technique leaves something to be desired. She’s very crude, only uses brute magic. There’s nothing subtle about her at all.”

  Chua bowed his head slightly and replied. “Mmm… You know, now that I think of it, I’ve heard of this woman. She has a terrifying reputation. Even the orcs fear her. Her name is used to frighten children in the borderlands. Common folk say she’s possessed by an angry goddess.”

  “Well, those rumors are sown in truth. She’s so powerful that it took two of us to defeat her. Skera-Kina is the strongest mortal sorceress I’ve ever stumbled across. It took nearly all my power just to escape her, never mind trying to defeat her.”

  Chua pursed his lips in contemplation. “Does she have any family?”

  Chua’s question sent Mugla into stunned silence. Could Chua possibly know the truth already? She hesitated a moment, cleared her throat, then took a breath.

  Her stomach churned. Should I tell him the truth? Then she sighed. It’s no use trying to hide it, not from him. I might as well tell him everything. Her voice came out in a whisper. “During the battle I discovered that Skera-Kina might be my bloodkin.”

  Chua’s face didn’t register any surprise. In fact, he didn’t display any kind of emotion at all. “I see. That explains why you waited for Tallin to leave before seeking me out. Tell me how you discovered this information.”

  Mugla continued. “When we met in battle, Skera-Kina carried an enchanted blade of my own making. I cast a protective enchantment on that sword years ago, but I’d forgotten about it. Only my own kin can touch the blade with their bare flesh. Skera-Kina and Tallin both touched the blade without injury. I d
idn’t tell anyone else about this. Obviously, the revelation came as a huge shock. Even now, I have trouble believin’ it’s true.”

  “Sometimes object enchantments will change over time. It’s not a precise form of magic. Are you absolutely certain that Skera-Kina is related to you?”

  Mugla wrung her hands. “I thought about that possibility, but I’m really good at weapon enchantments. That’s no lie. I’ve never had one go sour before.” She sighed. “But maybe ye’re right. I guess I’m not really certain of anything. Even now I doubt myself.”

  “Let’s try another avenue. Describe her appearance, besides her tattoos, I mean. Did her features look familiar to you at all, like you could be family?”

  Mugla shook her head. “No, I didn’t see any resemblance. She’s not tall, but she’s not short either. She doesn’t look like a dwarf. I assumed she was human. Those rune tattoos cover her entire face, so I couldn’t quite imagine what she looked like underneath the markings. To be honest, I was just trying to keep from getting killed. We barely escaped that fight with our lives.”

  “How about that enchanted sword?” Chua asked. “Where is it now?”

  “Tallin’s has the Sword of Sedaria. I gave it to him as a gift. He knows the blade is enchanted, but... h-he doesn’t understand the exact nature of the enchantment. I never told him the whole truth.” The last sentence came out reluctantly.

  Chua fell silent. After some thought, he said, “I have a solution for you. A heritage spell should work. I can use it to discover your kinship with this woman. It’s a simple spell for someone who has the Sight, easy for me to perform and quite accurate, too. But in order to perform the spell, I must have an object that Skera-Kina has touched. Anything that has her energy will do. Do you happen to have something we could use, besides the sword, I mean?”

  Mugla reached inside her apron and drew out a charred fragment of leather about as large as her thumb. “After Skera-Kina left, I stepped outside the mountain and found this.” She handed it to Chua. “It was on the ground near the area where we fought. I know it’s hers. I hoped it would be of use to ye.”

  He rubbed the leather between his fingers and sniffed it. “I sense magical residue.” He sniffed again and wrinkled his nose. “And burnt flesh. This was soaked in blood. I can smell it.”

  “Ye’re right,” said Mugla, glancing at him. “It was still bloody when I picked it up. Her skin is fused to the leather.”

  Chua’s eyebrows arched up. “Remarkable. What spell did you use to restrain her?”

  “I trapped her using an ancient spell: paralysis fire. The counter spell is simple, but there aren’t a dozen spellcasters alive who know it. The spell just isn’t used much anymore. To be honest, I gambled on her not knowing about it, and luckily for me, the gamble paid off.”

  “I’ve never heard of paralysis fire being used in battle. Isn’t it used mainly as a restraining spell for prisoners and such?”

  Mugla nodded. “Aye, it only restrains an enemy. Once someone is trapped inside the fire circle, they’re safe from harm. The spell isn’t really designed to be defensive, but that’s also why it succeeded with her. I chose it on purpose. Paralysis fire allows a weaker mage to trap a stronger one—it can incapacitate even the strongest mageborns. She tried many counter spells, but none of them worked. The Balborites wouldn’t bother teaching their apprentices a passive spell like that.”

  “Did she attempt to escape the fire circle?” Chua asked, mostly to himself. “That would certainly explain the blood.”

  “Right again. She tested the boundary of my circle several times, and each time, it burned her badly. The pain must have been terrible, but she kept trying anyway. I smelled her burnt flesh in the air as we ran away from her. She never stopped fighting the spell. And every time she tried to break the circle, I felt weaker. She tried to break the circle with brute magical force. She’s as nasty as they come, and very skilled. Breaking a fire circle from the inside takes immense power. She eventually escaped, because I simply couldn’t maintain the spell anymore. She was defiant the entire time, never showed a drop of fear. A league of sorcerers couldn’t hold that woman for long.”

  “Interesting.” Chua paused. He rubbed the leather in his fingers and said, “This item will suffice. But be warned. This isn’t an everyday object, like a shoe or a piece of jewelry. It’s got blood and battle residue on it, so it carries a fair amount of negative energy. That shall affect the incantation in a negative way. Many factors come into play when performing this type of spell, and the object itself is quite important. You may see…” he paused, searching for the appropriate words, “unpleasant things. You must also understand that a heritage spell only provides a vision of the past, of that which has already occurred. You won’t be able to change anything the spell shows you. If the spell is successful, be prepared to face the consequences. It will reveal information about your loved ones, and what you learn may not be positive. There are many paths to the truth, but they are seldom easy.”

  Mugla reached up and flipped a strand of gray hair from her eyes. “I understand. I still want to learn. I still want to know, whether it’s good or bad.”

  Chua was again silent for a while. “As you wish. Just give me a few moments to gather my strength.”

  Mugla moved closer, lowered her voice, and said, “Thank you.”

  Chua tilted his head back and sighed. His fingers fluttered up to touch his gleaming dragon stone. Starclaw sensed the draw of the spell and crawled closer to her rider’s side, touching his shoulders with her snout. The stone at the base of the dragon’s throat also began to glow. Once their powers merged together, Chua started chanting softly. “Lita-Hlita, Lita-Hlita…”

  He lifted a corner of his blanket, exposing a bare patch of earth. Uttering words in the old language, he traced a circle in the dirt. He spit in the center of the circle.

  A lick of flame shot up, and the air sparkled. A wisp of foul-smelling smoke rose from the circle, and Chua added a handful of small twigs and dried grass, causing more smoke to rise. He was finally ready. When he spoke again, his voice sounded far away, as though he were speaking through a long tunnel.

  “The spell has begun,” Chua rasped. “I am blind, but I can still see the images in my mind’s eye. The vision you see before you comes through my dragon stone. Together, we shall gaze upon the past. Hopefully you will find the truth you are searching for.”

  Gradually, three figures materialized in the curling smoke between them. There was no sound or smell, just a scene from a long time ago. Mugla’s eyes widened. She recognized the dwarf caverns at Mount Velik. The vision showed her old midwife’s quarters.

  Inside a dimly-lit cave, several people attended a birth. A dwarf female lay on some furs, her clothing covered in blood, her head lolling from exhaustion.

  There was a human male in a corner of the room. In the center of it all was Mugla, holding a screaming pink newborn. Mugla looked a bit younger, with fewer wrinkles and a straighter spine.

  “Do you recognize the people in this vision?” Chua whispered.

  “Aye… all of them. The dwarf woman is my sister, Tildara. She was Tallin’s mother.”

  “And the human in the corner? Who is he?”

  “My brother-in-law, Audun. That’s Tallin’s father. His parents were different races. Tallin’s father was human.”

  Chua nodded. “Yes, Tallin is a halfling, isn’t he? As for his parents, they’re both dead now, right?”

  Mugla gulped. “Yes. Audun and Tildara both died during the war.” She set her eyes on the smoky vision again, watching as her younger self lifted up the crying baby and quickly tied off the umbilical cord. Then she carried the infant to a wicker basket near the door.

  The father looked at the baby and began sobbing, covering his face with his hands. He looked over at Tildara and shook his head miserably. Then the mother started crying, too.

  “The baby was a little girl,” said Chua quietly.

  “Yes,” Mugla admitted, her voice hoarse. “I attended the birth, and I delivered the baby. That baby was Tallin’s sister...my niece.” She choked the last words out, as if it hurt her to admit it.