Soulblade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure Romance (A Dance of Fire and Shadow Book 4)
Soulblade: Chapter 19

I PERSUADE ZANDAR TO encircle our camp with a single great coil, creating a fiery rampart that gives us all a respite from taking turns at keeping watch. He keeps himself just distant enough that the horses give no more than a few nervous twitches and then settle. Lupine lets out a soft growl and moves away from the glowing golden eyes observing us from the edge of the camp.

As darkness gathers under the moss-covered trees, the marsh-pools at the edge of the clearing start to glow with shimmering blue flames.

“Marin? What is doing that? It’s not the same as the burning lake at the heart of Rahimar, but even so, it seems like a faint echo of it.”

“Marsh gas. Maybe the effect is growing stronger with this extended decay that is afflicting Rapathia. But I can see no greater threat in it than the damage and degradation that is ruining the rest of the country.

But I’m no longer looking at the water. I am watching Zandar and feeling once again the powerful surge of excitement as he focuses on the shimmering blue pool.

“Zandar has just discovered that his dragonsight is not blind here. His sense of territory, of dominion, has just expanded far beyond the bounds of Rahimar and even Annubia. And I have no clue what that will mean for the future.”

I feel Marin’s hand tense on my shoulder as he closes his eyes in concentration.

“Ariel, You’re right. I can feel it now you have pointed it out. Your connection with him is far stronger than mine.”

I move forward cautiously, stepping closer to the soft mud at the edge of the pool.

“Zandar? Can you show me what you see?”

You can see for yourself. You do not need me for this.

He sounds entranced, distant, as if his dragonsight is already exploring unknown vistas and faraway lands. I can feel his quivering anticipation but can see no more than reflections of his fleeting images, great landscapes of vast plains and snow-capped mountains.

I try to recall the instructions Rian gave me for my tiny scrying mirror, hoping it will not be so different when applied to a wide pool of rippling flame.

And then, just as I hoped, I see my sister. She is deep in conversation with Kashia, poring over a map of Samaran. They are in a small room in the north wing of the palace in Corinium. This strange dragonsight allows me to see the outside of the castle and also through the walls into different areas, just as I saw Shan’domir imprisoned in the Tower of Taskana. The vision is fleeting. Maybe it’s simply my surprise at my own success––or maybe it’s just the way the scrying works, but the image dissolves almost immediately into ripples on the water.

I try again, but Alina has vanished beyond my vision. A brief glimpse of Sarinder and the old King, somewhere in the royal apartments, before that too is gone. And the effort has left me with a splintering headache.

Marin is still staring at the water. “I saw nothing. Did you?”

“Not much. Alina and Kashia are working on something together in the north wing of the palace. Your father and Sarinder are back in the royal apartments. So it looks like they have all left Blackthorn and returned to the capital. I can try again tomorrow if this headache has cleared and I can concentrate better than I can at the moment.”

He looks hopeful. “Jantian wanted my father to remain at Blackthorn until Farang was recaptured because security was easier to maintain there than in the old palace in Corinium. The traitor had far too long to establish his spy networks, especially around the palace. Maybe it means…”

My face must be giving away more than my initial description of what I saw, because hope fades from his face as he looks at me. I wish I didn’t have to give him the news.

“I’m sorry Marin. The maps and drawings Kashia and Alina were studying… I think they are still hunting for our escaped traitor. Tandarion must have returned to the capital for another reason.”

He makes an effort to brush his concern aside. “Nothing we can do except conclude our mission here, and swiftly.

I can tell how worried he is. All I can do is hold him close, trying to give him all the love and reassurance I can replace within me. But he still feels distant, trapped in a lonely world where I can’t fully reach him, even as we lie together under the sky.

The next day’s ride takes us through marsh and forest, the air heavy with the stink of decay. Zandar has decided to avoid this area altogether, flying instead above the western slopes of the mountains. Every now and then I catch sight of a red glow to the east that tells me he has found a patch of forest high and dry enough to burn. I know I should ask him to return to Annubia before he can inflict any more damage but I can no longer be sure if he would comply. His delight at discovering how large his territory has become leaves me with the uneasy feeling that my tenuous control over him has diminished even further, just when my sense of impending danger convinces me we need his help more than ever.

By evening the trees give way to an open plain and for a few precious minutes the air feels a little fresher with the vista of wider horizons. It doesn’t last long. Fields of blackened crops are interspersed with sodden meadows of rotting grass and the decomposing bodies of dead cattle.

The town that once must have provided a hub of trade for the region is also in a state of decay. Stinking refuse lies in the streets, while a scattering of gaunt and hungry people stare at us from dark doorways, hollow-eyed and suspicious.

Marin dismounts and the rest of us follow suit. I can tell he is trying to appear less of a threat but I can sense that it is our tiny group that will soon be in danger. Hurrying footsteps echo on the muddy walls and I catch glimpses of furtive eyes watching from street corners. Before we are clear of the town the threat becomes visible as four armed thugs emerge from a dark alley and start stalking our progress. We close ranks, weapons drawn, and keep walking. The would-be robbers back away and fade into the grimy shadows. No doubt they are only used to attacking their own kind, half-starved and sickly.

I fall into step beside Dragar. “Surely all this can’t have happened in the few weeks since Nagal’s death? There is an aura of slow decay here that runs deeper and darker than a mere recent decline.”

He looks around at the desolation. “I never saw places as bad as this, but it is a few years since I came this far south. Most of my time was spent in the capital. But yes, the land was sickening even in my lifetime. It was the reason there was always a need for conquest, to reap the rewards of tribute and plunder.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to build the nation’s wealth by fixing the problems here, instead of raiding into other countries?”

He doesn’t answer and strides ahead to catch up with Marin.

I really must learn better diplomacy.

ANOTHER DAY OF RIDING through this dreary landscape, I start to notice something weird happening to all of us. It starts with Dragar, whose aggressive animosity is returning with a vengeance. He can’t stop needling Deris, asking Marin why he would betray his own kind by fighting alongside one of the Fae.

“They cannot be trusted. Their only purpose is to be chained and controlled as slaves.”

Marin ignores him, simply shrugging off his comments in silence. Deris slows his pace to ride at the back of the party, out of earshot. Dragar refuses to take the hint, coming up with more insults and suspicions every few minutes.

At first I assume this is simply a relapse into his normal arrogant attitude and that his short-lived episode of cooperation was merely that. A short episode. But then I start noticing how easily I feel persuaded by his words. I have always trusted Deris and relied on the steady and loyal way he has followed Jantian’s orders to keep an eye on me. He hasn’t always been able to pre-empt the wild anger that gets me into so much trouble, but I’m convinced he has saved my life on several occasions.

But now when I think about my friend it brings a knot of fear and suspicion deep in my belly. Every twitch of exasperation I have ever felt at his efforts to hold me back becomes magnified until all I can think about is his damned interference in my life…

Until I remember that I have felt this before, when the Emperor controlled me with his voice and magnified the distrust of Shadow I already felt, until it took control of my every thought.

Did Nagal’s cursed power spread to other high-ranking Rapathians before Shadow and I put an end to him?

I ride for another hour in silence, watching my own thoughts as well as the reactions of the others. Even Lupine seems irritable, snapping at invisible flies around her head. After a while I start to suspect that the real source lies all around us, darker and deeper and more pervasive than one man could ever be, even one as powerful as the Emperor. The others are affected too, although their Eldrin discipline holds them back from being as obnoxious as Dragar.

Marin has become even more silent and withdrawn than he has been since the aftermath of the battle. Nem gravitates to his side, sharp and defensive whenever any of us come near. Brac no longer communicates with anyone, spending every minute he is not on horseback working on his map.

I rein in close to Marin, ignoring Nem’s defensive glare.

“Marin, there is something sinister going on here. We are all feeling gloomy and irritable with each other. And it’s not just because Dragar is being a pain. He was like this before, back in Samaran, and we didn’t react like this. There’s something in the air or the land that is affecting us all. It feels similar to the way the Emperor used his voice to control me.”

He keep his reply courteous, but with difficulty.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Warn the others. Dragar has grown to respect you, even though he still thinks of you as the enemy. I think he’ll listen.”

Marin glances at Nem, but she is already focusing inward, her eyes half-closed.

“Ariel’s right, Marin. I can feel it now I’m looking for it. The anger and resentment is still there, but it has no reason to be there. Apart from the hardship of being stuck in this miserable place––but we’re well used to difficult deployments.” She glances in Dragar’s direction. “And obnoxious prisoners. This does feel different.”

Marin pauses and then nods agreement. “Yes. I can see it now. I’m sorry. Too caught up in my own problems. I should have noticed before.”

“No!” I’m not going to let him add this to his list of supposed failings. “I should have noticed before. I’m the only one with experience of the same thing, when I faced Nagal and the Emperor.”

“I’ll talk to Dragar.” Marin rides ahead, leaving Nem and I to break the news to Brac and Deris. It won’t ease the heavy feeling of doom we’re all experiencing but it might be enough to stop us killing each other before we complete this dreadful mission.