Riqua took the fragile envelope from his trembling hands, and withdrew a sturdy vial on a strong leather strap. Riqua slipped the strap over Tris's head, so that the vial hung around his neck. "What could equal the importance of the spell?" Tris asked,
"Before her death, Bava K'aa made one final potion. Doing so weakened her, and hastened her passing. What you hold in your hand was created at the peril of Bava K'aa's very soul, because its working is indeed gray magic. It's a potion capable of curing a mortal wound. Such a potion requires the power of a very great sorcerer, and drains the maker of such power that those few powerful enough to create it can only do so once in their lifetime. Think, Prince Drayke. How much would a dying man pay for such an elixir? How many people would a desperate man kill?"
"I don't understand," Tris said, staring at the vial as if it might burn him. "What does the combination mean?"
"There's one more item you have not seen," Riqua said. Tris realized that there was a sealed note slipped into the back of the book. He was shaken to see his own name written on the envelope, in the unmistakable hand of his grandmother.
"Read it."
Within the envelope was a small sheet, and on it, one sentence: "You must do what I could not, because you have what I did not," he read in a voice just above a whisper.
"Before his fall, the mage who became the Obsidian King was in love with your grandmother." Riqua said. "His name was Lemuel, and he was one of the most gifted Summoners of his age. Like your grandmother, he rose on his gifts alone, without a noble name or a wealthy family. And like your grandmother, he became the advisor to kings and almost without peer in mortal influence."
"And that power corrupted him. He presumed to the rights of the Goddess."
"That's what the Sisterhood told you, and it's true—in part. Lemuel pushed the boundaries of knowledge within that gift farther than anyone— even Bava K'aa—had ever gone. But something went wrong when Lemuel attempted a very old working. Bava K'aa, who was with him when it happened, believed that an ancient, evil spirit took possession of Lemuel. She blamed herself for not being able to intervene. That spirit called himself the Obsidian King, although the Sisterhood believes that he has been known by many names throughout the ages, taking and abandoning human hosts as it suits him."
"Possessed by the Obsidian King, Lemuel took Bava K'aa prisoner," Riqua continued, "and the Obsidian King used him to inflict great suffering, trying to get Bava K'aa to give up the secret of this elixir. Lord Grayson, a great warrior who was friend to both Lemuel and Bava K'aa, risked everything to free her from the prison of the Obsidian King. Bava K'aa never spoke of those dark days, and neither did Grayson nor the Sisters who took Bava K'aa in and healed her. Grayson, who had secretly loved Bava K'aa but stood aside because of his friendship with Lemuel, wed Bava K'aa in private during her recovery. Before long, her only daughter—your mother—was born.
"Even after all the pain that the Obsidian King— in Lemuel's body—inflicted on her, Bava K'aa couldn't destroy him," Riqua said, remembering. "She believed to the end that Lemuel's spirit remained a prisoner within his own body, tortured by the evil the Obsidian King forced his body to perform."
"That was why she imprisoned him in Soulcatcher," Tris murmured, thinking of the deadly red orb. "Because she believed that somewhere Lemuel might still exist. There was no way to kill the Obsidian King without also destroying Lemuel."
"After the binding, Bava K'aa discovered this journal. She knew it must be hidden. Maybe she anticipated that the Obsidian King would rise once more, and that you, her mage heir, would fight anew the battle. Make no mistake, son of Bricen— the first war very nearly killed your grandmother. Some say it was the Lady herself who spared Bava K'aa. I've found it... unwise... to count on divine intervention."
"If the Obsidian King existed before he possessed Lemuel, then who was he?"
Riqua shook her head. "Even the Sisterhood isn't sure. Bava K'aa knew more than anyone, having been his prisoner. She said the Obsidian King was a spirit willful enough to defy death itself, a mage who wanted immortality and unchallenged power."
"Thank you," Tris said.
"Guard the vial well. There's no mage strong enough to make it again, and the way of its making went to the grave with your grandmother."
In the distance, they heard a scream.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kiara awoke with a start to find a cold palm pressed across her nose and mouth and a firm grip pinning her to her bed. The reed torch had burned down to embers, just enough for Kiara to make out the silhouette of a woman poised above her.
"You can hear me?" Elana whispered close to her ear. Silently, Kiara nodded. "Good. Someone has been looking for you, Kiara of Isencroft."
Kiara struggled against the seduction of that voice, like a warm blanket of honey enveloping her, draining her will. Instinctively, she glanced toward the other bed, where Carina slept soundly, her back to them.
"Your friend can't help you. My kind have certain... talents... to make sure we're undisturbed." As if in answer to Kiara's unspoken question, a bundle of cloth tumbled and squirmed on the floor.
"Your pet will be no help," Elana added condescendingly. "Lord Gabriel and the others are resting. They won't hear."
Elana smiled coldly. "Don't blame Riqua. Her welcome was sincere. But she's not my maker," the blonde vayash moru said with a hint of bitterness. "I have no choice." Her eyes glinted with old pain.
"Come."
Elana drew Kiara to her feet and Kiara stood, panicked that her body seemed incapable of obeying her will, captivated by Elana's voice. She took one step, and then two toward the hallway. Once into the corridor, she would be lost. She had no doubt who Elana's master was. Arontala had summoned his creations, and once delivered to the dark mage, Kiara had no illusions about her fate.
As she moved toward the door, she brushed against her sword belt where it lay on the foot of the slab, sending it and her dagger clattering to the floor.
Elana gave a hiss of anger and wheeled, grabbing Kiara by the throat with a hand strong enough to crush her neck. The pressure on Kiara's throat made her gasp.
"Kiara?" Carina called. Seeing the silhouette of Elana with her hand gripping Kiara's throat, Carina screamed. Elana whirled as Carina dove for the fallen sword.
With a desperate cry Carina lunged, plunging the blade through Elana's belly. Elana struck back, tossing Carina against the stone like a rag doll. The distraction was all Kiara needed as Elana loosened her grip. Kiara twisted, using her legs to knock her attacker to the floor. A cold hand closed on her leg as Kiara struggled to get away. Boot steps pounded in the distance.
Carina struggled to her feet and dove at the attacker with her full might. Elana hurled Carina away and released her prisoner as a cold wind swept through the room. Kiara, pushed backward against the wall, had the barest glimpse of her own dagger glinting in the dying light of the torch. She heard the sickening thud of dagger's blade meeting flesh.
Carroway burst into the room, sword drawn, a torch aloft in his grip. An instant later, Tris and Vahanian joined him. They stopped in utter astonishment. Riqua stood over Elana's motionless form. In Elana's chest, buried hilt deep, was Kiara's spelled dagger and, protruding from both sides of Elana's body, Kiara's sword. Carina, thrown hard enough against the crypt wall to have the breath knocked out of her, was struggling to her feet, her expression a mix of determination and terror.
"What the hell happened?" Vahanian demanded.
Kiara shook her head, trying to clear the last of the vayash moru's influence. "She was going to take me to her master," Kiara said. "I... I couldn't resist her."