Defying Destiny Page 23

  The back of Lydia’s mind still burned from loaning Vendria essence, but the fresh air was helping. She couldn’t recall ever wandering a city that felt this pure before. Velthryn was a lovely place, but walking the streets of Selyr felt more like being in the midst of the wilderness.

  She could smell the scents of pine and blooming flowers, and, more distant, the scents of spiced meat and vegetables cooking in many of the city’s famed outdoor restaurants. Her stomach grumbled, but now was not the time for food.

  It was a city of greens and browns, with bushes and trees lining every road and many homes painted with forest tones to match. She wished she could have simply taken the time to stroll peacefully through, but Lydia saw a place for a hidden assassin in every tree and large patch of shrubs.

  She reassured herself with the fact that concealing assassins was hardly necessary — if Sterling wanted to get rid of her here, he could simply have her arrested. The vae’kes had near absolute authority in the entirety of the region.

  Lydia was the one that had to act with subtlety here, not him. Extracting a vae’kes from one of their strongholds would be a complicated affair. She had plans, but even those plans had variables she couldn’t account for. She needed more information.

  The house they arrived at was easy to identify purely through contrast to the surrounding area. It was built in an old fashioned style, the paint a mix of grays and whites, but with only blackness visible within the windows. Civilians seemed to be avoiding the side of the street where it stood, but they weren’t going so far out of their way that she suspected an immediate threat. There were enough side streets that if the house had a reputation for being terribly dangerous people could have just gone around it entirely.

  There was a waist-high wall and a gate outside the house, but the gate was unlocked. Lydia swung it open and headed for the front door.

  “You certain this is wise?” Aladir clenched and unclenched his hands, obviously nervous.

  “No, but it’s the most expedient approach. I need answers. And we have contingencies if things go badly.”

  Aladir gave her a curt nod, but looked unconvinced. “Ready when you are.”

  [I am also ready, Lydia.]

  Thank you, Vendria. Don’t exert yourself unless you need to.

  [You needn’t worry about me. I will protect you and myself.]

  Something about Vendria’s response was different from usual. A bit more coherent, and tinged with something else. Determination, perhaps?

  That was a positive sign, if it was so. Most of the time, the stone merely seemed confused. Lonely. She’d investigate further when she didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Perhaps she’d found a good memory to latch onto.

  Perhaps that mind-linking spell that she’d found could help, but it had risks. She’d plan to try a few more options before resorting to that.

  Lydia reached the door, raising a hand to knock. The door opened before she had a chance.

  “Good day, Miss Hastings.” The man in the doorway wore white robes, belted by a knotted rope. He had no visible weapons. A white blindfold covered his eyes. He offered a slight bow, then stepped out of the way of the door and beckoned to the house within. “The Scholar has been expecting you.”

  The way he emphasized the first two words made them sound like a title, rather than a mere occupation. That gave a specific implication.

  Lydia froze, momentarily stymied. “The Scholar? Meaning Erik Tarren? Isn’t he supposed to live at Winterspire Mountain?”

  “Not in this season, I’m afraid. The Scholar travels extensively, and he has a number of different homes. I’m certain he can provide you with more context himself.”

  Lydia glanced at Aladir, who simply shrugged in response.

  Lydia turned back to the blindfolded man. “May I—”

  “You may check me for sorcery and weapons, yes. Also, you may take your weapons inside.”

  Without any further hesitation, Lydia stepped forward, putting a hand on the blindfolded man’s shoulder. “Dominion of Knowledge, I invoke you.”

  A familiar stream of information flowed into her mind, with information translating into letters.

  Dominion of Knowledge.

  Dominion of Air.

  Dominion of Motion.

  Dominion of Destiny.

  “You’re...”

  “A seer, yes. Though not quite in the same way as the Crystal Oracle that you are familiar with.”

  He knows about Asphodel, and has similar sorcery to her own.

  Lydia stepped back. “Are you the Shrouded One?”

  “Ah. I can understand the presumption, but no. I have no connection with that organization. I serve largely the same forces that you do, albeit in a different way.”

  He clearly could have been lying, but even if he was, this was definitely a new source of information. She had to pursue it. “Very well, we’ll come inside.”

  Lydia stepped through the doorway, passing the blindfolded man. She could only see a few feet beyond; the rest was obscured by some sort of sorcerous darkness effect, most likely the same void sorcery she’d detected with her earlier spell.

  The blindfolded man stepped into the doorway a moment later. “I’m afraid The Emerald Knight will need to wait outside.”

  The Emerald Knight? That’s an interesting title for Aladir. Is this oracle merely being theatrical with the use of all these titles?

  Aladir reached for his sword, but didn’t draw. “I go where my partner goes.”

  “Apologies, but that will not be possible. The Scholar was quite clear. No disrespect was intended, but bringing you inside would complicate matters intensely. We will return The Cryptographer to you, unharmed, within less than an hour.”

  Well, it would seem my title is even stranger than Aladir’s.

  More importantly, an hour is more than enough time to kill someone and move the body to an inaccessible location. Lydia wrinkled her nose. But I’m not your average someone. I’m aware of the dangers here, and I’m not a novice.

  Lydia snapped her fingers. “Comprehensive Barrier.” The physical gesture was entirely unnecessary; it was a clear signal that she was preparing for trouble. With that, she turned back toward Aladir. “I’ll be out soon.”

  He gave her a grim nod, then settled his hand on his weapon. “If you’re not out in an hour, I’m coming in.”

  “Of course.” The blindfolded man smiled, then shut the door. “Shall we?”

  He clapped his hands. The darkness ahead of them dispersed, giving way to a perfectly ordinary looking hallway. The walls were lined with paintings and — Lydia noted with greater interest — more than the necessary number of mirrors.

  The blindfolded man slipped past her, leading the way down the hall. “Apologies for the rudeness to your friend. It is too soon for The Scholar to meet with The Emerald Knight.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Why do you use that title for Aladir? I haven’t heard it before.”

  “You will. Come.”

  Apparently it’s not just Asphodel. Oracles are universally frustrating.

  Nevertheless, Lydia followed him down the hall. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Ah. Sometimes I forget basic niceties. Forgive me. I’m Estan.”

  She’d been expecting another strange title, so something as simple as “Estan” was a pleasant surprise. “Good to meet you, Estan.”

  “Yes.” He nodded absently. “You may sit in the room ahead. The Scholar will be with you shortly.”

  The hall terminated in a large sitting room with a low table in the center. A pot of liquid — presumably tea — sat on the table, with teacups already laid out on both sides. There was a back exit to the house on the opposite side, leading toward a sunlit garden, and other rooms to the left and right.

  Estan wordlessly departed through the door on the right, then closed it behind him.

  Lydia examined the room further, searching at first for traps or other dangers. There were
a few rugs on the floor, but nothing obviously between them.

  “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate that which is touched by your cousins.”

  One of the mirrors on a nearby wall glowed faintly, surprising her not in the least. Aside from that, however, the room was conspicuously lacking sorcerous auras.

  She dismissed that spell and cast another immediately.

  “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate the hidden.”

  The spell was designed to show anyone or anything that was currently under a form of invisibility. Like the previous spell, it did not detect anything amiss. She dismissed it, but she wasn’t quite finished.

  “Dominion of Knowledge, illuminate all illusion effects.”

  Again, nothing. But she kept this one active; it would be useful to see if “Estan” or “Erik Tarren” were under the effects of any illusion spells when they next appeared, and she didn’t want to cast the spell right in front of them.

  With that done, she continued inspecting the more mundane elements of the room.

  Beyond the tea, there were a few baskets of bread on the table. It looked — and smelled — delightfully fresh.

  There were two chairs by the table, and a lower table nearby that contained a board for Crowns. There were a number of pieces on each side of the board, as well as a few to each side. The owner, it seemed, had a game that was already in progress. It was unclear whether or not he was winning, since there was nothing to indicate who was playing each side.

  The factions in play were the Paladins of Tae’os and the Thornguard. The symbolism there did not escape her.

  But that wasn’t what drew her attention the most.

  The walls were lined with dozens of bookshelves. Lydia ignored the obvious place she was supposed to sit and drifted toward the inexorable pull of the books.

  Her eyes scanned the shelves, noting many familiar titles — Elements of Sorcery and so on — and a handful of others that were less familiar.

  The Gifts of the Stars: Kelryssia’s Legacy in the Modern Age, The First Four: Gods of the Ancient World, Understanding Immortality: Rethri and Delaren, Advanced Principles of Planar Movement, The Lies of Lovers: Aayara and Jacinth’s Eternal Dance...

  ...is that last one some sort of...romance novel?

  Lydia reached forward, intrigued in spite of herself. Her interest was purely academic, of course.

  “I should have expected you’d have a hard time resisting the call of further knowledge.”

  Lydia spun around, briefly embarrassed by her failure of decorum and its apparent predictability. Then she stopped worrying about that, because there were books, and books were always a good reason to be distracted.

  The speaker appeared largely the way she’d expected. He was an older gentleman, but with few wrinkles aside from smile marks. His hair was the greatest tell of his age, long and silvery, and marked with a matching goatee. He wore a gray pointed hat with a single white feather, though the traveler’s garb that Taelien had described had been replaced by something slightly more formal. He wore flowing robes of white, embroidered with a blue pattern that wrapped all around it, resembling a snake with horns and wings.

  His resemblance to Taelien’s description did not, of course, actually mean this was Erik Tarren. Jonan could have managed an illusion with basic details like these, as could any number of other sorcerers.

  Her Detect Illusions spell didn’t actually show any illusion effects active on him, but there were ways around that. Sufficiently powerful void sorcery could block her detection abilities, or he could have permanently shapeshifted rather than using an illusion. The latter was a costly tactic, since shapeshifting had serious medical risks, but it was not unprecedented. And she wasn’t going to be caught unawares just because she believed her spells to be infallible.

  Lydia dismissed the Detect Illusions spell, since it didn’t seem to be picking anything up. She could always recast it later if she decided something seemed suspicious, but keeping it active at this point was an unnecessary drain on her mind.

  She smiled, but kept her distance. If there was any chance that this was Sterling playing a trick, she wasn’t about to let him get in arm’s reach. Not again.

  And if somehow he did, she’d have a few new surprises.

  For the moment, she decided the wisest course was to play along and evaluate the situation further. Erik Tarren or Sterling would both have information that interested her, and thus, she thought this could be a worthwhile encounter in either case — provided she was cautious enough to survive it. “Master Tarren, I presume? Forgive me for the lack of decorum; I was quite enthralled by your collection.”

  “No, no, by all means. My old teacher always said that knowledge was meant to be shared, and I firmly agree with her. I’ll try to give you some time to peruse the books after our discussion, if our schedules permit it.”

  “That is quite kind of you.” She bowed lightly. “You seemed to be expecting me?”

  “Ah, yes. Not today in specific, mind you, but Estan has a way of making everything sound like it was long foretold and recorded in prophecy.” The older man grinned, showing the source of his smile lines.

  “Oh? Should I beware of any other prophetic elements, then? Old crones with riddles and young farm boys toting dominion marked swords?”

  Erik Tarren chuckled and took one of the nearby seats. “I do believe you’ve already stumbled upon the latter, though he wasn’t precisely a farmer.”

  Lydia sighed. “Indeed. And that seems to have been your work. You dropped him off as a baby, if I recall? Along with a legendary sorcerous relic? Tell me, have you ever written anything in your many books about the ethics of distributing swords to children?”

  Tarren sighed and shook his head. “I was only honoring the wishes of a dying friend. But enough of that. You’re not here to talk about the swordsman. He can come visit me himself if he wants answers. I’m somewhat surprised he hasn’t already.”

  “He’s been quite busy with work.” Lydia took the seat across from Tarren. “And I do believe you gave him a different location.”

  “I move about frequently. It’s in my nature. You can tell him I’m here right now. You may be seeing him soon enough.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “We’ll get to that.” Tarren raised a hand. “What did you really want to ask me?”

  “Ah, business, then. What can you tell me about the identity of the Shrouded One?”

  “Very little, I’m afraid. She has powerful friends that I would rather not agitate.”

  Lydia wrinkled her nose. “She?”

  Tarren smirked. “A slip of the tongue. Think nothing of it.”

  Was that a deliberate hint, or an actual slip? Hm.

  “What sort of person would an immortal sorcerer find intimidating, Master Tarren?”

  The older man leaned forward. Lydia tensed briefly, but he was only reaching for the teapot. He poured a cup for himself, and then for her. “I’d rather not go into any details, but I’m certain you’re aware that there are beings that even I would not dare face alone. The Xixian Emperor and Empress, for example, were among them in the past.”

  “But they’re long gone, and you helped with that. There are few with that degree of power, save the gods themselves...” Lydia frowned. “Really? Is that what you’re implying? This Shrouded One has a god backing them?”

  “You can draw what conclusions you will.” He took a sip from the cup. “Mmm. Excellent. The teapot is mildly enchanted, you see. Keeps the liquid inside at just the right temperature.”

  Lydia took a glance at the steaming liquid he’d poured, evaluated the slim chance of poisoning against the discourtesy of refusing hospitality...and chose discourtesy. She was taking more than enough risks just by being in here by herself, and she knew that Sterling used poison. “I’m not thirsty, thank you.”

  Tarren shrugged. “I’m sorry I can’t help you with that particular issue. Perhaps something else?”

 
; “Sterling.”

  “Hm? What about a Sterling?”

  She’d said the name by itself to gauge his reaction. Sometimes you could get someone in disguise to break character if you called them by their name.

  But since he didn’t react that way, she simply used that to segue into a different conversation. “Jonathan Sterling. Do you know anything about him?”

  “Ah, the one who was responsible for those poisonings during your paladin exams. You have my sincere condolences for the losses to your order.”

  “Thank you.” Lydia frowned. “Did you know that you were sending a group of paladins to his location?”

  “What do you mean?” Tarren frowned, setting down his cup.

  “You teleported a group of paladins directly to Sterling’s location during the exam, did you not?”

  “Ah, that.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I sent them to a cave they showed me on the map. I wasn’t aware that anyone was there at the time. I do feel responsible to a degree, since I did not go along with them, but I had no way of knowing your paladin trials would be unsafe. As I’m sure you know, I’ve helped with some other trials in the past, and there have never been incidents on that scale.”

  That’s consistent with how the paladin candidates described their meeting with Tarren on the road, implying he at least has knowledge of the event. That still doesn’t rule out the possibility that this is Sterling — since Sterling may have also had someone watching the path and reporting to him — but it does make it less likely.

  Should I try to tease out more details of that prior encounter for clarity?... no, that’s not the priority right now.

  “Very well. I appreciate the assistance you’ve provided our organization in the past.” She took a breath. “Now, do you know anything else about this Sterling? His whereabouts? His goals?”

  Tarren straightened up. “If you’re looking to catch and stop him, I’d urge you to reconsider.”

  “I appreciate the concern. Will you please answer my question?”

  Tarren raised a hand to cover his eyes. “I have an idea of what he is up to, yes. He is still working with this Shrouded One you mentioned. For that reason, I still can tell you little.”