Borne Rising Page 28

  The commander met his eye and his expression was grave. “Understand this, Lightborne. My loyalty is to Aeril. The people. The very land itself.”

  “And that means . . .?” Will peered at the commander, but the man did not elaborate. Gods, why is no one straightforward around here? “Look, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  Shifter grimaced and stepped back. “Go. Treat with your kind. Undermyre will not fall to Valmont in your absence.” Saying no more, the commander whirled and strode away.

  “That’s it?” Will called after him. “Seriously? Alluding to something and then, what? Just leaving it in the air like that? Come on. Give me something to work with.”

  Shifter did not even pause. Will was left in frustration. What the hell was that about? Why can’t things ever just be clear?

  He stepped through the curtains. The Street was rather subdued, but that was fine with him. He caught Clarice’s eye and the proprietor smiled then gestured to the balcony of his room. He glanced up and did a double take. Morella was standing there. She had somehow managed to beat him back despite leaving the Nordoth after him. That hidden staircase certainly does save some time.

  Something was wrong, though. She looked upset or . . . annoyed? Her face was not pleased, at any rate. He made his way to the staircase, keeping his eyes on her while they adjusted to the darkness of the Street. Right before he passed from her sight, Will suddenly realized the cause of Morella’s irritation: she was not alone on the balcony. Who the hell would be up there with her? No one knows about—

  Immediately, Will’s stomach dropped. Cephora.

  What is she doing here? Every damn time she came around, she brought bad news. Oh, sure, she’d mask it by a potential of hope, but then she’d quickly sweep the rug out from under him. Her unannounced presence coinciding with the absence of the Lightborne and din’Dael couldn’t be chance. Something was wrong.

  He raced up the stairs to his rooms. The Seeker lounged casually inside while Morella remained on the balcony, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

  “Ah, Noctis Thorne,” Cephora said with a sardonic smile. “So nice of you to join us.” She gestured to Morella. “I’m pleased to find that you’ve reconnected with Madam Darklore.”

  The expression on her face showed her thoughts were the exact opposite of her words. They never did get along particularly well. “Cephora,” Will said with as much politeness as he could muster. “What’s happened?”

  “That’s it? No idle chatter?” The Seeker spread her arms wide and shrugged. “Must something happen for friends to wish for company?”

  Will frowned. The fact that the Seeker was casually smiling was enough to prove to him that something was indeed wrong. “When it comes to our meetings, yes. What are you doing here?”

  “Ah, right to it, then?” Cephora’s plastered smile fell away. “Very well. How was your journey beyond Undermyre?”

  Fishing for news on Madigan. “Productive.”

  “Returned home, did you?”

  “My home was destroyed, Cephora. There’s nothing there to return to.” Not a full answer, but enough to make her think.

  Cephora sighed and shook her head. “The same stubbornness as your grandfather. Must it be this way, Thorne?”

  Morella laughed and Will allowed a smile to cross his face. “What would you prefer?”

  “Let us be frank with one another.”

  “Fair enough.” Will shrugged and gestured to her. “By all means, go right ahead.”

  The Earth Warder stared at him. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. “Very well. Undoubtedly, you found your brother. Your subsequent return without him gives me cause for concern. Need I be concerned?” Will said nothing, only raised an eyebrow at her. “I bear your family no ill will, Thorne. I only want the best for Aeril. For all these lands.”

  “At the cost of whatever and whomever it takes, right?”

  Will saw that his words stung the Seeker. A hint of remorse washed through him. She keeps saying that she did what she had to after the Shale. He sighed and muttered under his breath. Fine. “Madigan will return in his own time, assuming Dorian Valmont doesn’t strike him down before then.”

  Cephora’s eyebrows raised and she leaned forward in her seat. Will snickered and went on. “Yes, we happened to have another encounter with the man.”

  “Noctis—”

  Will held up a hand to stifle the interruption. “As you can see, we survived. We all did. Valmont, he had something—a device—it destroyed the land, corrupted it.” Cephora paled but Will didn’t stop. “The Shadowborne Mad’s with—Ileta, she calls herself—she seems to be in league with Valmont. Almost as soon as we got there, Senraks appeared.” Cephora cursed and Will nodded. “Yeah, that was my reaction too.”

  “How did you manage to elude the blood beast?”

  Will smiled. “We didn’t. I killed it.” He felt no need to elaborate on the strange power that had coursed through him. His leg ached at the memory.

  Cephora stared at him. A bit of color returned to her face. An amused smile unlike any that Will had ever seen from her appeared. “Killed him, did you? Impressive.”

  Will frowned. I expected more of a reaction than that. “Valmont and Ileta both disappeared after that. Morella and I chose to return here. Madigan, being the stubborn ass that he is, chose to remain.”

  Cephora cursed again and shook her head. “Why?”

  “He didn’t think Valmont would strike unless the two of them were together,” Morella chimed in from behind. “He was convinced of it for whatever reason.”

  “Something like that,” Will muttered.

  Cephora pursed her lips and glanced at Morella. “Interesting. Very well, then. Madigan lives. Senraks is”—she smiled and looked at Will—“dead. And Valmont has vanished yet again.”

  “Trapped in Cascania. Not entirely vanished.” Will smiled.

  Cephora, however, turned her attention back to Morella. “You don’t sound terribly convinced of Madigan’s position on the matter, Madam Darklore.”

  Morella bristled a bit and stared at Cephora. “I’m not, but not for any reason you seem to be insinuating.” She interlaced her fingers with Will’s and tightened her grip on his hand. “I’m not sure where you’ve been or what you’ve been after, but I saw the repercussions of your decision that day on the hill. I have lived with Noctis, been with him, and I’ve seen the effect on him of the separation.” Her eyes flitted over and met Will’s and, while they appeared sincere and heartfelt, there was a strange vacancy there as well. “They need each other. Together, anything is possible. So, yes, I disagree with Madigan’s position. He should have come back. He should have stayed with us.”

  “My, my, my,” Cephora said while shaking her head. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this passionate about anything since you ‘accidentally’ mentioned the Relics in one of our early encounters, Morella.” The hand gripping Will’s tightened in a brief spasm, then released. She pulled away from him and crossed her arms, glaring at Cephora. “Oh, yes, my memory is long, Morella Darklore. But, surely, as a historian you understand such things.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Indeed.” Cephora tilted her head and kept her gaze fixed on Morella. “Have you ever visited Greygarde, by chance?”

  Will knew that there was—as it always seemed when these two women had a conversation—some piece of the puzzle that he was absolutely missing. “The home of the Seekers, right?”

  Neither answered him.

  “No,” Morella said coolly. “I have not.”

  “You really should. For someone with your interests, you would find it of great use. Particularly our historical records. They’re very, very detailed.”

  Will could almost feel the anger pouring out of Morella, though why, he had no idea. All he knew was that Cephora was prodding at her, goading her.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” he said sharply. Neither of them looked in his direction. “Cephora, I think you
’ve outstayed your welcome. Unless you have something of actual use to us, you can get the hell out.”

  She broke her gaze from Morella and looked over at him. “Jero din’Dael needs you.”

  “So he continues to say.”

  “No, Noctis.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I mean he needs you. Now.”

  That caught him off guard. “What’s happened?”

  Cephora’s smile held no humor. “Necrothanians.”

  Will cursed and Morella shifted uncomfortably. “Where?” he asked.

  “Oh?” Cephora raised a mocking eyebrow. “But I assumed that with your wide network of spies throughout Aeril, you were already quite informed.” She scoffed and stood. “Regardless, as requested, I’ll be on my way.”

  “No, dammit. Don’t.” Will sighed and shook his head. Every goddam time she comes around. “How bad? What’s happened?”

  Casually, Cephora returned to her seat. “You were on a journey recently, yes? With another Lightborne? What was her name . . .” She raised an eyebrow to Will.

  “Rienne,” he said as levelly as possible. Morella stiffened at his side and Will glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Her name is Rienne and she was heading to Greygarde.”

  “Rienne, yes.” Cephora smiled and steepled her hands, looking all too much like the Crow for Will’s taste. “She did not make it to Greygarde.”

  Will’s throat tightened but he kept his face neutral. Dammit. “What happened?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, nothing sinister, don’t worry.” Will could have throttled her then and there but he held himself back. “When she arrived at the Middle Reach, not long after you parted ways, she found something rather unusual. A Necrothanian camp. Digging.”

  “At the Middle Reach?” Morella chimed in, her voice hinting at unamused disbelief. “There’s nothing at the Middle Reach. Why would they be entrenched there?”

  “Why indeed?” Cephora didn’t even spare a glance for Morella, didn’t shift her eyes away from Will for the briefest moment. Will returned her gaze and saw something in it, something dangerous. His stomach dropped.

  It can’t be . . .

  “They’ve found one, haven’t they?” Will couldn’t hide the tremor of fear that laced the words. “One of the Relics of Antiquity. The bastards found one.”

  “What? No.” Morella shook her head. “At the Middle Reach? There is nothing at the Middle Reach. There’s no way they found a Relic. Will, if she tries to tell you there’s anything there, don’t listen to her.” She frowned and stared at Cephora. “As always, this damn Seeker is up to something—probably stringing you along at the Crow’s whims again.”

  “Believe what you will.” Cephora shrugged. “The Lightborne woman was unable to discover what they found.” The disdainful way that Cephora said the word Lightborne irked Will. “But she deemed the situation of great enough importance to return to din’Dael at the Sapholux. Their march for Undermyre took a different direction and by now, surely, the Middle Reach is filled with all manner of madness.” She gave Will an appraising look. “You failed to mention just quite how many Lightborne survived within the Sapholux, young Noctis. I’m impressed.”

  “I didn’t keep track of the numbers,” he said absently. And I damn well wouldn’t have told you even if I had. “How did you manage to gather all this information, Cephora?”

  “Dahla.”

  Will blinked. Dahla? He laughed and shook his head. “The bird told you?”

  Morella gave a start at his side and grabbed his hand. “Wait, Dahla?”

  “No, of course not.” Will chuckled. “Jero tied a note to her talon, is that it? A glorified messenger pigeon?”

  “Cephora, did you just say Dahla? As in the Dahla? The Bird of Peace?” Cephora only smiled. Morella ripped her hand from Will’s and rounded on him. The fury of her words nearly drove him backward. “You said nothing about Dahla’s involvement!”

  He stared at her aghast. “Jero has a bird. I don’t see how that seems like pertinent information. What, is she something special or is this just another one of those—”

  Morella’s slap caught him completely off guard and he stepped back a pace, the angry roar of defiance hot within his chest. He stared at her incredulously. “What the hell?”

  “You goddam Casc. You know nothing!”

  “Din’Dael and the creature have, apparently, come to some kind of arrangement,” Cephora said flatly. Her expression was smug but Will saw hints of concern in the Seeker’s eyes. Oh good, she didn’t like me being slapped any more than I did.

  “She’s not just a bird then,” Will said, rubbing his cheek. He eyed Morella warily. What the hell was that about? “Of course she isn’t. Nothing in this damn place can ever be simple.”

  Cephora stood and folded her arms. “On the contrary, it is quite simple. Jero din’Dael has called for your aid, Noctis Thorne. I’ve passed on the request to Greygarde, since that was your friend’s initial mission, it would seem. Given the gravity of the situation, I shall accompany you to the Middle Reach and assess the gathering.”

  “So you can leave us at the most inopportune moment?” Will muttered before working his jaw back and forth. “Sounds just like old times.”

  The Seeker frowned. “So I can determine what steps need be taken in dealing with the Necrothanian menace.”

  “Yeah, well, welcome back to the group.” Will looked at Morella who refused to meet his eye. “We’re as warm as ever.” Cephora laughed aloud. Morella finally met his gaze with a cruel glare. What the hell has gotten into her? Then, a thought occurred to him. “Cephora, you said din’Dael sent for me?”

  “He did.”

  “Why?” His thoughts raced back to the Shale, to the ceaseless slaughter at his mentor’s hands, to the buffets of lightning and destruction of the ancient prison. “He has his entire force with him. Why does he need me?”

  She clapped her hands on her legs and rose to her feet while shaking her head. She crossed her arms and smiled. “Come now, Noctis. This is Jero din’Dael we are speaking of.”

  “The bastard . . .” Morella muttered.

  Will pretended he didn’t hear. “In other words, you don’t know.” Will nodded. “Fine.”

  Cephora gave him a bored shrug. “I do know this, Lightborne. The Necrothanians have not been idle. These cultists in recent years, the brief uprisings, they are not true Necrothanians. Those who follow Valmont would never have left themselves so exposed, let their intentions be known.”

  “Meaning that for them to show their hand now, we may already be too late.” Will nodded. “Sounds lovely. Undead monsters and magic-wielding cultists led by an immortal psychopath. I can’t wait.”

  Even Morella snickered at that. “This could be the end of everything,” she whispered a moment later. “Dorian Valmont may lead an army of the dead, but he’s not the only madman taking the field. If he and din’Dael fight?” She shook her head. “You saw the Shale, Will.”

  “Which is why I suggest we leave as soon as possible,” Cephora said. “For better or worse, Jero din’Dael has taken an interest in you, Noctis. That places a terrible weight upon your shoulders. If he takes your counsel to heart, you may be all that stands between that man and wanton slaughter.”

  “I don’t see how you made that jump.”

  “Your voice may give him pause. His hatred of Valmont is absolute, but if what you’ve told me is true, din’Dael chose to save you rather than strike at his mortal enemy. If din’Dael unleashes the full force of his might in an attempt to kill Valmont, you may have the power to stop him.”

  Will raised an eyebrow. “Stop him from killing Valmont? You’re not making sense.”

  Cephora pinched her brow and shook her head. “From killing everyone, Noctis. If the two of them meet unchecked without regard for those nearby, catastrophe will surely follow. Death, Noctis. Death of the Necrothanians, yes, but what if that also meant the death of all the Lightborne? What if it meant the de
ath of all those within the Middle Reach? The territories beyond? You know the blood lust that fuels Jero din’Dael. You’ve heard of the destructive forces of Valmont. You could help din’Dael see reason. You could save countless lives.”

  “I doubt that,” Will said, thinking of the many times din’Dael had ignored him over the years.

  “But there is a chance,” Morella said softly. Her eyes were pleading as she looked up and took Will’s hand. “If anyone could get din’Dael to stop, to hold back . . . you can do it, Will.”

  Will pursed his lips. I really doubt that. But if both Cephora and Morella believed it, then he couldn’t ignore it. “Alright, fine. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you are prepared, Noctis. I’ve already mapped out the rifts to save time.”

  Oh fantastic. Will’s eyes fell to Morella. She looked paler than usual. Her eyes, when they met his, held a deep yearning for something he couldn’t place. Not me, that’s for certain. Something else. “Tonight, then.”

  “Tonight.” Cephora strode for the door.

  “Cephora, one last thing before we leave.”

  She paused and turned back, raising an eyebrow to him. “Yes, Noctis?”

  He smiled, never letting his gaze fall from Morella’s. “Call me Will.”

  27

  Homecoming

  Aeril felt colder than Portland, despite the visible difference in climate. While Madigan’s home had been in the depth of winter, the lands around Undermyre remained in their perpetual state of early autumn. And yet despite the warmth in the air, there was an unsettling chill, something that crept into his bones.

  Ileta felt it too, he mused to himself as he walked with the Crow’s guard. That’s why she didn’t want to enter the city. She knew something was out of place.

  That had to be it, of course, because the alternative was something he didn’t—couldn’t—believe; that Will had been right about her.

  She had returned to him, bleeding and furious, not long after Will and Morella left. She’d looked in disgust at his battered arms before immediately snapping defensive orders at him. While the world around them whirled in smoke and flame, the pair prepared for another assault from Valmont.